RABBI ROSENBERG'S HIGH HOLIDAY
SERMONS
2006/5767
Now
that we are 5 years out from the catastrophe of 9/11 we are in a
position to
reflect back and draw lessons from that horrific event. The element of
surprise
and the extent of loss of civilian lives as well as utter destruction
were
unprecedented on these shores. The pathological nature of the
perpetrators and
the bizarre though effective strategy of crashing our own airplanes,
filled
with innocent civilians into the World Trade Center and Pentagon
transformed
what would have been a glorious day into our worst nightmare.
I
suspect we would still be haunted by the depths of depravity to which
human
beings could sink, were it not for the counter balancing incredible
stories of
heroism that transformed this tragedy into a triumph of the human
spirit.
Unlikely heroes discovered courage and fortitude they had no idea they
possessed. Due to cell phones the passengers on Flight 93 became aware
of their
doomed destiny. They said their sad good byes to loved ones, then
realizing
they were headed to our nation’s capital to blow up the White House or Capitol, they said, “Let’s roll,” and
stormed the terrorists, sacrificing their lives
that others would live.
I
could go on for hours but I won’t, recounting acts of heroism that took
place
at the World Trade Center. I’m glad that film maker, Oliver Stone in
his movie
tribute to New York’s finest: police and fire fighters focused on just
two
heroes. It is easier to comprehend. No one could have been prepared for
something like this. When a group of Port Authority security guards
arrived at
the World Trade Center, John McLoughlin asked who from the group would
join him
to try to save lives. There was a pregnant pause. Chances were they
wouldn’t
come out. Several stepped up, as if they were stating, “Hineni, you can
count
on me.” Shortly after they entered, the buildings collapsed burying
2,700+
innocent people.
John
McLoughlin and his colleague Will Jimeno were pinned under concrete,
steel and
debris, not to mention pervasive dust and fires burning around them.
For
several days they were fading, but holding on to hope. They knew there
would be
rescuers 90 feet above. In an interview with Newsweek Magazine, Will
Jimeno
confided, “I knew if I fell asleep I’d be dead, but it was ok, “I had
made my
peace with God.”
“I
had made my peace with God.” How many of us could say that, and mean
it? Here
was a man who clearly committed himself to a career in which he was
called on
to risk his life to help others. When tested, he replied, “Hineni,” so
to
speak. In what ways have we been tested? How did we respond? What do we
need to
do to make our peace with God?
These
Yamin Noraim, Days of Awe, challenge us
to review our actions, our
attitudes, our lives. And where we have gone astray from the charted
course,
there is still time to make amends, to engage in genuine teshuvah, to
right the
course. Unetaneh tokef, in tomorrow’s liturgy, more than any other
prayer, jars
us from our moral lethargy. It not only speaks to where we’ve been, it
imagines
where we are destined. And our fates aren’t always pretty. It asks,
“Who will
live and who will die…. Who will be tranquil and who troubled?” In
other words
who will be at peace with God? The prophet Isaiah put it this way. “In
quietness and confidence shall be your strength.” Unetaneh tokef
concludes
encouraging us to influence the upcoming chapter in our lives for good
through
teshuva, tefilah and tzedaka. You can
check off tefilah, prayer. You’re here
tonight.
Life
is frighteningly tenuous. No doubt you heard several months ago about
David
Sharp, the fellow on an expedition to climb Mt. Everest. He fell near
the top,
broke his leg and lie there barely breathing the thin air. Sharp was
slightly
conscious, shivering violently, his teeth clenched, his nose turned a
deep
black. 40 other climbers stopped, considered helping, but feared they’d
never
make it to the top or back down, and went on. He was for all intents
and
purposes left for dead. Eventually, sherpas brought him down, and
shortly
thereafter, David Sharp was declared dead.
Are
there people we have left suffering by the side of the road, as we
continued
our journey? Perhaps, there are specific individuals that come to your
mind. If
not, as a community we all recall Bill Walsh, the homeless man who
froze to
death here in Waterford, about 3 miles from here. When funds ran out
and the
winter shelter was closed last March, Walsh went into the woods behind
Stop and
Shop. May he rest in peace.
Life
is precarious. Last spring a group of college students in Indiana
perished when
a semi truck crossed the median and collided with their van.. One girl
survived. Heavily bandaged and in a coma, she was mistaken for another
girl who
resembled her blond hair and blue eyes. Would you believe it took
several weeks
before the correct identity was made? The survivor, Whitney Clark, has recovered. In fact, she is back at
Taylor University. I can only imagine the confused joy of her parents,
who held
a funeral for what they thought was their daughter. And, I cannot begin
to
imagine the grotesque pain of the bereaved parents who thought their
daughter
had survived. Unetaneh tokef reminds us that we know not who will live
and who
will die.
Will
Jimeno, after being retrieved from Ground Zero, spent several months
that were
touch and go in the hospital. His family was called in more that once
to say
their good byes. Thankfully, today he has recovered considerably.
It
makes us wonder, if we knew that we might lose a loved one in an
untimely
fashion how would we act differently? An unknown author composed these
words:
If
I knew it would be the last time that I’d see you
fall asleep, I would tuck you in more tightly and pray the Lord, your
soul to
keep.
If
I knew it would be the last time, I could spare an
extra minute or two to stop and say “I love you,” instead of assuming,
you
would know I do.
There
will always be another day to say “I love
you’s.”
But
just in case I might be wrong, and today is all I
get, I’d like to say how much I love you and I hope we never forget,
Tomorrow
is not promised to anyone, young or old alike, And today may be the
last chance
you get to hold your loved ones tight.”
And
what if we found out that our precious days were numbered? I am not all
that
familiar with Country and Western music, but every now and then a C
& W
song captures my attention. Often the words come from the singer’s
heart and go
directly to ours. Such was the case for me when I first heard Tim
McGraw’s
uplifting message. “Live Like You Were Dying.” It is especially
meaningful knowing
that Tim’s father was former New York Mets relief pitcher Tug McGraw
who died
way before his time. I won’t sing, but permit me to share some of the
lyrics:
He
said, I was in my early forties
With
a lot of life before me
When
a moment came that stopped me on a dime
And
I spent most of the next days
Looking
at the x-rays
And
talking ‘bout the options, talking
‘bout
sweet time
And
I asked him when it sank in
That
this might really be the end
How’s
it hit ya’ when you get that kind of news.
Man,
what’d you do (he said)
I
went sky diving. I went Rocky Mountain climbing.
I
went two point seven seconds on a bull named
Fumanchu.
And
I loved deeper and I spoke sweeter
And
I gave forgiveness I’d been denying.
And
he said one day I hope you get a chance
To
live like you were dying.
In
living life to its fullest, we also need to set aside time for causes
we hold
dear. A legacy is not the result of one action. It is the outcome of a
lifetime
of worthy acts. The Reverend Martin Luther King Jr., was shot down at
age 39,
in his prime. He left as large a legacy as anyone. And he left us this
bit of
advice. “Our lives begin to end the day we are silent about things that
matter.”
Humans
have yearned for immortality ever since Adam and Eve are said to have
lost it
due to their dessert choice. Someone commented, “It wasn’t the apple in
the
tree, but the pair on the ground that brought on their expulsion from
the
garden. To their credit, once on their own, Adam and Eve discovered the
satisfaction that comes from working by the sweat of their brow. They
knew both
the pleasures and challenges of family life. In time, they joined
deceased son
Abel and learned the meaning of the soul’s life eternal.
What
awaits us beyond our purviews? Here are 10 questions God won’t be
asking you:
“1.
God won’t ask what kind of car you drove;
God will
ask how many people you drove who didn’t have
transportation.
2.
God won’t ask the size of your house,
God will
ask how many people you welcomed into your home.
3.
God won’t ask about the clothes you had in your
closet,
God will
ask how many you helped to clothe.
4.
God won’t ask what your highest salary was,
God will
ask if you compromised your character to obtain it and whether you
shared with
those less fortunate..
5.
God won’t ask what your job title was,
God will
ask if you performed your job to the best of your
ability.
6.
God won’t ask how many friends you had,
God will
ask how many people to whom you were a friend.
7.
God won’t ask in what neighborhood you lived,
God will ask
how you treated your neighbors.
8.
God won’t care about the color of your skin,
God will
care about the content of your character.”
9.
God won’t ask how much overtime you worked,
God will
ask if you were there for and with your family.
10.
God won’t ask what you did when others were
watching,
God will
know what you did when they weren’t."
Rosh
Hashanah ushers in a new year. Now is the time to demonstrate our
gratitude for
this precious gift of time. May we use it wisely, living life to its
fullest,
loving our family and friends, caring about those in need, and this
year may we
all be at peace with God.
Amen
Israel, What Went
Wrong? Getting it Right!
For
Jews today is the 1st
day of the year 5767. For Muslims today
is the first day of the holy month of Ramadan. The more I learn about
authentic
Islam, the more I realize its resemblance to Judaism.
Yet, the more I come to understand radical Muslims, those
sometimes referred to as Islamists or Jihadists, or the misnomer
Islamo-fascists, I see in those proponents of terror the antithesis of
Judaism—and Islam.
In
light of current
conflicts it is ironic that Jews and Muslims share a common progenitor,
Avraham
Avinu, Abraham, Ibrahim, our mutual forefather. Our Orthodox and
Conservative
coreligionists read in the torah today how Avraham sent his first born,
Ishmael, into the wilderness along with Ishmael’s mother, Hagar. Tomorrow, they will read the Akeda, the
Binding of Isaac, which we read today.
Did you know that the Quran tells the story of Ibrahim binding
Ishmael? Incidentally, Islamic
tradition holds that Ishmael with the help of Ibrahim went on to Mecca
and
there set up the Kaaba Stone, to which devout Muslims make a hajj, a
pilgrimage.
One
clear difference between
Judaism and Islam can be found in the etymologies of the names Israel
and
Islam. You may recall when Jacob
survived his wrestling match with a so-called angel, he was renamed
“Yisrael,”
one who strives with the divine and prevails. A Muslim, on the other
hand is
one who “submits” to God’s will and achieves salaam.
Avraham had no compunction challenging Adoni.
When God confided his plan to destroy the
sinners of Sodom and Gamorah, Avraham defended the innocent. “Will you sweep away the innocent along with
the guilty?...Shall not the Judge of all the earth deal justly?”
Lest
we presume Avraham to
be a pacifist, we can note that earlier when his nephew Lot was
kidnapped along
with other local leaders, Avraham rallied the troops and liberated his
kin and
his peers.
Avraham
is a complex
character. In the Akeda in his zeal to
demonstrate loyalty to God, Avraham “submits” readily nearly
sacrificing his
precious son Isaac. A writer of modern
midrash, Lori Ubell, imagines Sarah sensing tzuros, seeks to save her
family. Ubell suggests that Sarah
arrived at the mountain top just in time.
The voice of the angel was, Ubell surmises, none other than the
voice of
Sarah, “Avraham, Avraham…do not raise your hand against the boy, or do
anything
to harm him!”
Life
is sacred! Abrahamic religions, be it
Judaism,
Christianity or Islam, affirms this.
Yet, in our zeal we can lose sight of life’s sanctity
inadvertently
hurting others, and in turn hurting ourselves.
Rosh Hashanah is Yom Hadin, Day of Judgment.
It is a time for brutal honesty as we scrutinize the past
year.
War,
that mysterious human
need to fight others, once again has reared its ugly head
This past summer our Israeli sisters and
brothers, yet again were engaged in battle, the 10th
milchama in
less than 6 decades. This was unlike
any conflict Israel had faced. The foes
were not Palestinians, nor were they a neighboring nation.
Hezbollah, the so-called Party of God, is
comprised of fundamentalist Shiite Muslims who have taken over Southern
Lebanon. To their credit, they provide
many human services such as schools and clinics, and have
democratically
elected representatives in the Lebanese Parliament.
To their discredit, they are a pawn of Iran and ideologically
desire to erase Israel from the map.
Mind
you Israel totally
vacated Lebanon 6 years ago. Sheik
Hassan Nasrallah, the charismatic Hezbollah demagogue, now admits his
error in
sending his guerilla troops into Israel July 12th. He never expected, he now confides, that
Israel would retaliate for Hezbollah killing 8 members of the Israel
Defense
Forces and kidnapping Ehud Goldwasser and Eldad Regev.
Israelis had had it with Hezbollah. 6
years of shelling the Galilee had been
chipping away at Israeli savlanut, patience.
The killing and kidnapping were the last straw.
Israelis
were unified to
rescue the kidnapees and while they were at it to crush or at least
disarm
Hezbollah. After all they have less
than a thousand guerillas. Now that the
cease fire has been signed and the dust has settled, the fallout is
disturbing:
Who
won? There are no winners in wars, only
survivors. In this season of cheshbon
hanefesh, soul searching Israelis of all political persuasions are
asking, “Ma
kara, wha’ happened?”
In
previous battles Israel
possessed superior trained forces, armaments and military leadership. The positive outcomes were predictable. But here, neither objective: retrieving the
kidnapped nor disarming Hezbollah occurred.
Maybe, Judah Macabee could have warned, “In a battle between a
conventional army and a guerilla one, the smart money is on the
guerillas.”
Especially
when they don’t
play by the rules. You may have seen
the comic circulating on the internet.
Two soldiers with baby carriages are pointing machine guns at
each other. The difference is that the
Israeli is
infront of the carriage, while the Hezbollah guerilla is behind it. With guerillas and their weapons embedded in
schools, hospitals and apartment building, Israel faced a moral dilemma. WWJD?
What would Judaism have us do?
We can hear Avraham’s conscience asking, “Would you sweep away
the
innocent along with the guilty?”
In
Deuteronomy Chapter 20 we
find Laws of Warfare. The torah teaches
that non-combatants be permitted to leave the arena of war. Israel dropped leaflets over sites
designated to be bombed. May fled,
including the guerillas. Unfortunately,
far too many civilians remained. Hence,
disgustingly high numbers of children and women as collateral damage.
Hezbollah
is not a nation
and therefore has not pledged to abide by the Geneva conventions. But they claim to be devout Muslims. They should know that indiscriminate
targeting of non-combatants such as the residents of the Galilee, is
forbidden
by shariah, Islamic law. Likewise,
suicide bombers, perpetrators of the 9/11catastrophe, and indeed those
Muslims
who even condone these atrocities have committed not only crimes
against
humanity, but have demeaned the noble values that are truly fundamental
to
Islam.
It
concerns me that there
are those in the Jewish community who would excuse the devastation in
Lebanon. I am concerned that the
Rabbinic Council of America, the voice of modern Orthodox rabbinate in
the US,
released this statement, “Because Hezbollah puts Israeli men and women
at
extraordinary risk of life through unconscionably using their own
civilians,
hospitals, and mosques as human shields, we believe that Judaism would
neither
require not permit a Jewish soldier to sacrifice himself in order to
save
deliberately endangered enemy civilians.”
Can you hear Avraham plea, “Will you sweep away the innocent
along with
the guilty?”
It
is blasphemous when some
Islamic clerics, imams and mullahs fan the flames of hatred and
violence. One would hope that strong,
influential
Muslim spiritual leaders would preach salaam and engage in true jihad,
not holy
war, but struggle with the forces that encourage us to hate and hurt.
In
our Bible it was
commanded that before the Israelite army could engage in warfare, the
priests
needed to read to the assembled troops the rules of what was ethically
permitted in warfare and what was prohibited.
That interaction between religion and the military created the
foundation of what later became known as “just war theory.”
Rabbi
Mark Warshovsky,
Hebrew Union College Talmud professor, elucidates these principles of
the just
war:
Leonard
Fein is perhaps the
most astute analyst of the American Jewish scene. He
observed, “There are two kinds of Jews. One
wants an Israel which is militarily
strong, capable of defending itself and strong enough to defeat any
enemy, an
Israel that is tough enough to do what has to be done for its survival. The other wants an Israel which is a beacon
of justice and righteousness, which affirms the humanity of all, friend
and
enemy, which prides itself on its civility and its compassion.” Fein thinks that most of us are both kinds
of Jews and he hopes that it stays that way.
Harry
Danziger, President of
the Central Conference of American Rabbis, adds, “I hope that we will
not have
become so caught up in the justified concern for Israel’s safety that
we can no
longer feel the anguish of Lebanese civilians who have been killed or
wounded
or bereaved in what is called ‘collateral damage.’
And I hope that we will not have become so troubled by the
innocent deaths caused by Israel’s actions that we forget that Israel
acted to
protect its own citizens from a terrorist organization and its
state-sponsors,
enemies openly committed to the destruction of Jews and the Jewish
state.”
We
can understand the
frustrations of Israelis demanding an investigation into what went
wrong. Long hours in poorly ventilated
shelters
frayed nerves of Galilean civilians. Have
the invincible Israeli Defense Forces discovered their Achilles heal? Were Prime Minister Ehud Olmert and Defense
Minister Amir Peretz, insufficiently militarily savvy for the job? Should the air strategy have been replaced
by ground troops? Did Israel suffer in
the PR war by taking out Lebanese infrastructure along with residential
targets?
We
know that Nasrallah
regretted provoking this confrontation.
I wonder if Olmert similarly has second thoughts about
retaliating. In a conference call with
rabbis the other
day I heard Olmert express relief that at least the Lebanese army and
international forces now patrol southern Lebanon, and the katyushas no
longer
are being launched.
We
stand at the dawn of a
new year. We reflect back on the
unpredictable circumstances of 5766.
Who could have imagined:
That
following Israel’s
withdrawal, the Gazans would choose to lob rockets on Israeli
settlements
rather than develop their land.
That
Prime Minister Ariel
Sharon would slip into a coma, and be missed as a centrist seeking
peace.
That
Palestinians would hold
democratic elections and select the radical Hamas, who don’t even
recognize
Israel, over Fatah, the party of the late Yasir Arafat, now perceived
as too
moderate by the people.
And
that war would emerge on
Israel’s border with Lebanon.
We
know not what 5767 will
bring. Kohelet stated, “There is a time
for war and a time for peace.” We are
tired of war. Let there be peace!
Avraham engaged in battle to free Lot, his nephew and surrogate son. Avraham also was a model for
reconciliation. When his shepherds
quarreled with Lot’s shepherds, he sought a peaceful win-win solution. There is enough land for everyone.
May
5767 be a time for
healing. May Ehud Goldwasser, Eldad
Regev and Gilad Shalit, who was kidnapped to Gaza, come home safely. May we be agents of the rebuilding
process. I am delighted that Temple
Emanu-El is giving $3,500 to Israel relief.
I encourage all of us to give generously to the Israel Emergency
Campaign of the Jewish Federation of Eastern Connecticut and the Israel
Emergency Fund of our Union for Reform Judaism. Also,
may we all be knowledgeable advocates for Israel’s cause.
And while we do this, may we realize that Palestinians deserve to live
in dignity,
with in a viable state of their own.
And may the Palestinian people come to live in dignity and
security in
their own country.
The
Machzor offers us an
outline for helping write the next chapter of life:
May
these pave the way to
shalom for us, our families, our community, this country, for Israel
and for
the entire world.
Amen!
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Babylonian Exile,
Now Why are We Fighting?
Imagine,
there is a world
out in space which is an exact duplicate of our own.
It is populated by women and men, boys and girls, much like
ourselves. They too reflect the rich
human diversity of races, religions and nations.
They
differ from us in only
one respect. They don’t have
weapons. No bombs or bombers, no ak47s
or m16s. Not even a bullet.
With no need for warfare, they devote an
enormous amount of energy and resources to human welfare, caring for
people in
need. As a result, over 60% of national
budgets are used to feed the hungry, shelter the homeless, care for the
environment, and train people for more productive lives. And billions
of
dollars are used to conquer disease.
Cancer and Aids are but a distant memory. And
you should see the well equipped schools. Teachers
have been complaining that they are
paid too much.
Curiously,
with all this
money available for taking care of the poor, for protecting the
environment,
for medical research and treatment, and for outstanding education for
all,
there just doesn’t seem to be a need for charity.
I
suppose people could take
up collections for armaments, or hold fundraisers for tanks, missiles
and
bombs, but why bother. Isn’t it a shame
though, they never will know the glory of war.
This
Space Fantasy was
conceived by the rabbi of my youth, Rabbi David Polish, alav hashalom.
It makes
us wonder, what is the matter with us humans that at any one time there
are a
dozen devastating wars plaguing our planet?
And in a normal lifespan, we Americans hardly go for a decade of
peace,
that is 7 or more opportunities to kill or be killed in one’s life. The ‘80’s were a dormant period, but in 1983
we did get to flex our muscles against that bully Grenada.
Didn’t our parents tell us that it is not
nice to hit others?
The
enemy is invariably
demonized as evil incarnate. And so we protect ourselves and our
friends, by
getting them before they get us. Funny, we don’t sleep any better, even
when we
do what we feel is necessary. The elder
statesman of Israel, Vice Prime Minister Shimon Peres, once reflected,
“Our
enemy is not a religion or a people. Our
enemy is war and hatred and bloodshed.”
In
the Book of Ecclesiastes,
the somewhat cynical Kohelet observed, “For everything there is a
season, a
time for every experience under heaven:
A time to be born and a time to die,…a time for loving and a
time for
hating, a time for war and a time for peace.”
Meanwhile, the Psalmist charged, “Seek peace and pursue it!” I would like to think that our passion for
shalom expressed so eloquently in torah, midrash, talmud and liturgy
has
impacted our psyches and we have become the people for whom manhood is
marked
not by striving to be a macho man, but a mentch, a gentleman, a gentle
man, or
woman.
One
would like to think that
as civilization progresses and we discover the means to drive cars, fly
planes,
create radio, television, computers, ipods and cell phones, humans
would
likewise find ways to resolve conflict other than by taking innocent
lives. And yet the last century belies
that notion. What we call World War I was supposed to be the war to end
all
wars. And yet, a couple of decades
later cataclysmic, world wide war was once more reared its ugly head.
WWII
demonstrates even to
the pacifist that Kohelet was right, “There is a time for war.” It is a last resort, it is for
self-defense, it is when the likes of Hitler and Nazi Germany pose a
threat not
just to Jews, but to humankind. I am proud that my father Leo
Rosenberg, alav
hashalom, served as a marine in WWII. Ironically, he was one of the
gentlest
men I’ve known.
Recently,
I saw the movie
Jarhead, which portrays marines in the first Gulf War, Operation Desert
Storm. It is an alarming but riveting
film about the discipline, loyalty, violence and moxie in Marine life.
A
neophyte being hazed is tricked into believing that his bunkmates have
branded
USMC on him. He is left confused, when
they
say, “You don’t get it that easy. You have to earn it.”
During the chaos and brutality of a battle
scene, the Staff Sergeant confides in one of his privates, “I could
have taken
a job with a fat salary with my brother, but there is no way, that I
would ever
miss this action. I live for it. I love it.”
Later two snipers are sent to take out two enemy leaders in a
tower. They have been trained for just
this moment. They have the enemy in
their sites, the rush of adrenalin is running through them, they are
about to
shoot, when soldiers from another outfit pull rank and choose to
explode the
tower. The two snipers return to their
colleagues, to find that they are celebrating for the war has just
ended. The
snipers though are in a funk. They are
dejected because they didn’t get to kill the enemy.
It is one thing for Osama Bin Laden to relish in the taking of
human life, but aren’t we better than that?
This
summer I saw another
film, a documentary called, Why We Fight, the winner of the 2005
Sundance Film
Festival. It begins with President
Dwight David Eisenhower’s final message to the country.
What would the Commander in Chief, the
former Chief of the Allied Troops during WWII have to say?
He coined an expression we have come to know
well. He warned our society to be wary
of the intertwining of “the military industrial complex.”
And he had never heard of Halliburton, Vice
President Cheney’s former company that gets so many no-bid contracts.
No wonder
Cheney’s net worth went from $1 million to $60 in 5 years with the firm. Nor did Ike imagine that the Defense Budget
would be ¾ of a trillion dollars. The
US spends more on defense than the rest of all the other countries put
together. And you know what, it doesn’t
make us any safer.
We
just observed the 5th
anniversary of 9/11. The question I
heard people asking was, “Are we safer today?”
I know this: Just after 9/11 other than a few insane Islamic
extremists,
outcasts in their own countries, the world stood with us. After 9/11 a
million
people stood in solidarity with the United States, in Teheran, Iran. That is the emes. And
now with their meshugener Prime Minister Mahmoud Ahmadinejad
saber rattling, doubting the Holocaust, aspiring for nuclear power and
threatening to wipe Israel off the map, we are truly af tzuros.
Pursuing
Al Qaida in
Afghanistan seems to have been a worthy, although not entirely
successful
venture. However, polls are demonstrating that a majority of Americans
are now
questioning the sagacity of entering Iraq.
Clearly Sadam Hussein had nothing to do with 9/11. Nor did he have Weapons of Mass Destruction.
Was he a tyrannical dictator? Yes. Did
he deserve to be deposed? Perhaps, but
at what cost. And I am not talking
about the 100’s of Billions of dollars spent.
Nearly the same number of Americans who perished in 9/11 has
come back
in body bags. We have placed some of
our bravest young men and women in harm’s way.
Have we rebuilt the cities? The villages? The infrastructure? Hardly.
Are we bringing them democracy?
Or have we unintentionally launched a civil war where the
morgues could
no longer handle the dozens killed each day, nor can the hospitals
treat the
civilians caught in the middle of the fray.
Are
we safer today? The National Intelligence
Estimate concluded
unequivolcally that the war in Iraq increased the threat of global
terrorism. This is the consensus of all
16 US federal intelligence agencies.
At
the Biennial of our Union
for Reform Judaism this past year, our movement overwhelmingly passed a
resolution calling for the administration to establish an exit strategy. A poll by the American Jewish Committee
found that 70% of American Jews oppose the war in Iraq and only 28%
back
it.
That
is not to say that we
don’t support our troops. On the
contrary, we cherish their courage and value their lives. Our soldiers,
enlistees, reserves, National Guard serve under the most challenging of
conditions. They are spread thin and doing double deployments. I can only imagine what it is like to be in
120 degree heat, being shot at by suicide insurgents.
I am not surprised that some of them snapped.
Still, we have zero tolerance for the Abu
Ghraib shenanigans and the raping and killing of innocent civilians. These, thankfully, are the exceptions. However, the administration wants
presidential leeway in interrogating terrorist suspects.
Congress just eliminated mutilation and rape
as acceptable torture, now there is an oxymoron. I’m
curious, what is acceptable torture?
We
want the rest of our
troops home, where they belong. Kudos
to our Social Action Committee for sending care packages to American
soldiers
serving in Iraq and Afghanistan.
So
how will we extricate
ourselves from this quagmire?
Certainly, we can’t cut and run, as it were, but neither can we
stay the
course if that means indefinitely maintaining the disastrous status quo. For sure, the Iraqi fledgling government
will have to step up and demonstrate support of its people, and their
troops
and police will have to create real stability.
Comic
George Carlin quips,
“I don’t believe there is any problem in the country, no matter how
tough it
is, that Americans, when they roll up their sleeves, can’t completely
ignore.” No, the majority of Americans
are feeling, “Enough is enough.” This
war already is longer than our war with the Nazis in WWII.
Even a mentch like Joe Lieberman I hope
understands now that people in his party and for that matter in both
parties
are yearning for real solutions in a timely fashion.
Some
of us are products of
the ‘60’s and the music of war protests still stirs our souls. Others are advocates of non-violence. We all have seen the results of Mehatma
Gandhi, the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr. and Nelson Mandela. On another Sept. 11, in 1906, a century ago,
Gandhi led 3000 Indians on a rally in which they proclaimed that they
were
willing to go to jail, rather than carry id’s that marked them as
inferior,
based on their birth. Martin Luther
King reflected the words of the prophet Zechariah, “Not by might, nor
by power,
but by God’s spirit” will we prevail when he led marches singing, “We
shall
overcome.” Nelson Mandela was willing to suffer 27 years in prison to
see the
fall of apartheid in South Africa.
Rosh
Hashanah marks the
beginning of a new year. This is a time of cheshbon hanefesh, of
introspection,
of taking inventory, or figuring out strategies to make amends and
improve our
lives and our world. Teshuvah means
getting back on track. Returning to walking in God’s ways.
I
pray from the depths of my
heart that 5767 will be a year of hope, a time when we begin to end the
scourge
of war, a time to seek peace and pursue it.
I
conclude with the words of
Argentinean songwriter Leon Gieco:
All
I ask of God is that I
not be indifferent to suffering
That
parched death doesn’t
find me empty and alone without having done enough.
All
I ask of God is that I
not be indifferent to war.
It’s
a great monster that
treads hard on the poor innocence of the people.
Amen
Teshuvah,
Learning from Mistakes
Ladies and gentlemen this is your pilot speaking. I have
bad news and good news. The bad news is that I’m afraid the radio
compass on
our plane is inoperative. I’m not certain which direction we are
heading. The
good news though is that we are making excellent time.
These
Yamim Noraim Days of Awe, are the time for us to
pause from the hectic pace of life and get our moral compasses
operative so we
get back on the right route. We call this teshuvah, often translated as
repentance, but literally meaning, “turning around.” A sign in front of
a
church had it right when it proclaimed, “If you are headed in the wrong
direction, God allows u-turns.”
Doing an about face is not as easy as it may sound.
Ancient Chinese proverb says, “The journey of 1,000 miles begins with
the first
step.” Similarly, when a Chasidic rebbe was asked, “How far is it from
East to
West?” He replied, “Not far at all, it is just a matter of turning
around.” One
small motion, but it isn’t always easy to do.
The first step of teshuvah is realizing we were going the
wrong way. This may mean overcoming rationalization and justification
for
wrongful behavior. We humans are quite adept at being in deep denial.
Remorse, the 2nd
teshuvah step, likewise is not a given. Pope Benedict XVI discovered
his regret
that Muslims were so upset over his citing a 14th century
Byzantine
emperor who admonished Islam for adding hate and violence to
pre-existing
religions. Muslims clearly did not consider that an apology. To many of
them it
appeared he regretted being caught.
Pete Rose was expelled from baseball for gambling on
games. He recently signed hundreds of
baseballs, “I’m sorry, Pete Rose.” By the way he is selling them for $1,000 a
piece. Sorry, Pete, try again.
Mel Gibson on the other hand was obsequious when he
apologized to Jews for going into an anti-Semitic rant when he was
arrested for
driving under the influence. We Jews already knew that Gibson’s passion
was anti-Semitism
and alcohol, an ugly combination. Let us give him the benefit of the
doubt that
he is remorseful, and that his apology, teshuvah step 3, is sincere.
That
brings him to the final step and the most challenging: when presented
with
opportunities to recommit the offense, to resist the urge.
How are we doing on our own teshuvah? We too may have
bouts of justification and denial, but we also thankfully possess a
conscience
that makes us feel uneasy and guilty when we do wrong. We may fool some
of the
people, but in our kishkes, we know when we transgressed. I read that
psychologists tell us that up to 70% of all self-talk, our minds at
work, is
negative. In other words, you tell yourself the things you can’t do,
shouldn’t
try, aren’t good enough at, or do poorly. Sometimes we may beat up on
ourselves
too much. Proverbs 23:7 states, “As one thinks in one’s heart, so one
is.” It
is ok to be aware of our limitations and mistakes, but a good self
image
confidently considers those problems as challenges to work on.
An
unknown author offers us these Lessons of Failure:
Failure
does not mean I’m a failure;
It
does mean I have not yet succeeded.
Failure
does not mean I have accomplished nothing;
It
does mean I have learned something.
Failure
does not mean I have been a fool;
It
does mean I had enough faith to experiment.
Failure
does not mean I am inferior;
It
does mean I am not perfect.
Failure
does not mean I have wasted my life;
It
does mean that I have an excuse to start over.
Failure
does not mean that I should give up:
It
does mean that I should try harder.
Failure
does not mean that I will never make it;
It
does mean that I need more practice.
After ascending
the
mountain, the spiritual seekers asked the guru, “How do we become
wise?” There
was a long pause. Then the teacher replied, “Good choices.” “But
teacher, how
do we make good choices?” “Experience,”
answered the wise one. “And how do we get experience?” Smiled the guru,
“Bad
choices.”
Wise people know
the growth
that comes from challenges even when we do not succeed:
Appearances can
be
deceiving. There are instances that might seem to indicate tzuros, but
in the
end could be a mechiah. Consider this story:
The only
survivor of a shipwreck
washed up on a small, uninhabited island. He prayed feverishly for God
to
rescue him, and every day he scanned the horizon for help, but none
seemed
forthcoming. Exhausted, he eventually managed to build a little hut out
of
driftwood to protect him from the elements, and to store his few
possessions.
But then one day, after scavenging for food, he arrived home to find
his little
hut in flames, the smoke rolling up to the sky. The worst had happened;
everything was lost. He was stung with grief and anger. “God, how could
you do
this to me!” he cried. Early the next day, however, he was awakened by
the
sound of a ship that was approaching the island. It had come to rescue
him. “We
saw your smoke signal,” they replied.
A couple of
weeks ago a
newborn was abducted by a woman who had just miscarried. The birth
parents were
praying that their little girl would be returned unharmed. Television
news
flashed pictures of the adorable baby with the strawberry colored
birthmark on
her forehead.
Meanwhile, the
sister-in-law
of the woman who falsely claimed to be the mother, noticed makeup on
the baby’s
forehead. When she rubbed it off, the strawberry birthmark appeared.
The child
was returned, and you might say, “saved by her birthmark.”
That which makes
us unique
and special should be cherished. Senator George Allen of Virginia, a
practicing
Christian, was asked by a reporter if it were true that his mother was
Jewish.
He denied it several times, and later claimed he had only recently
learned that
his mother’s family was a prominent Sephardic Jewish family in Tunisia.
I guess the Sephardic or the Tunisian
vote is not that large in Virginia.
Allen has more serious problems.
Apparently, he is fond of using the “N” word.
Yom Kippur for
all of us is
a time to be brutally honest. Where have we been? What have we done?
How can we
improve? When we sow an action, we reap a habit, when we sow a habit,
we reap a
character, when we sow a character, we reap a destiny.
I want to
conclude this
sermon with a guided imagery, inspired by one created by Tamar Frankiel
and
Judy Greenfield:
Imagine that you
are taking
a leisurely walk on an Indian Summer day much like today. Although
there is a
soft breeze, the warmth of the autumn sun feels comforting. Your eyes
take in
the vibrant array of fall colors in the diverse trees. You sit down on
a large
rock next to a reflecting pool. You take a long look at your image and
wonder
how others see you, and how God sees you.
Gently ask,
“Have I in
anyway harmed myself? Damaged my honor or self esteem? Have I injured
in any
way family or friends? Have I done it accidentally or willfully?
In the deepest
core of your
being, ask what makes you feel guilty or ashamed. Focus on just one
disappointment, or doubt or guilt. Name the feeling to yourself. For
example,
do you feel upset that you still occasionally smoke, or
know that you disappoint a relative because
you don’t make enough time for him or her. Know in your heart that you
are
essentially good, in fact very good. You are human, and to err is human.
Now look again
into the
pool. See your reflection washed with a shower of healing light.
Feeling
radiant, you say, “Rebono shel olam, Master of the Universe, help me
accept
myself and learn from my mistakes. I hereby forgive myself for whatever
I have done
to my body, my mind, my self-esteem, whether accidentally or on
purpose, that
blemished my divine image and in turn diminished Yours, O God. Hineni, here I am, renewed. Know that I will
try to do better to be the person I am meant to be.
Amen
In
a book entitled, Make Me An Instrument of Your Peace, Kent
Nerburn tells
about one night he’ll never forget. At the time he was a cab driver
doing the
night shift. He was responding to a 2:30 AM call in a quiet part of
town. The
building was dark except for a single light. He had assumed he was
there to
pick up some late night partiers or a workman heading to an early shift
at a
factory.
To
his surprise, a frail elderly woman came to the door. He noticed she
had a
suitcase so he went to help her. As he opened the door he noticed a
curious
sight. All the furniture was covered with sheets and in the corner was
a
cardboard box filled with photos and pictures.
Once
in the cab, she gave him a slip of paper with the address. She asked if
he
would drive by the old west side to get there. “That’s not the most
direct
way,” he commented. She replied, “Oh, I don’t mind. I’m in no hurry.
I’m on my
way to a hospice.” He reached over and shut off the meter. “What route
would
you like me to take?”
For
the next 2 hours, they drove through the city. First stop, her
childhood home,
then, the building where she and her husband lived as newlyweds. After
which
they stopped by the ballroom, where she and her husband often went
dancing.
They even paused in front of the building where she worked many years.
At the
first hint of dawn, she suddenly said, “I’m ready; we can go now to the
hospice.”
The
psalmist stated that the years of our lives are 3 score and 10 or by
reason of
strength four score. A recent study calculated average life spans by a
variety
of factors such as ethnicity, regional influences and life style. Truth
be told
we really don’t know how long we’ll live. What we do know is how we
choose to
live our lives and the impact that has.
In
the Bible Methusela, Noah’s zayde, is said to have lived to be 969.
Unfortunately, other than who he begat we know nothing about him.
Sometimes
lives are cut short due to disease or circumstance. Yet, some of these
people
leave a lasting legacy. Alexander the Great lived to be only 33, but he
conquered nearly all of the civilized world in his time. More recently,
the
Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr. was shot down at age 39 who knows what
he
might have gone on to accomplish. He would have been 77 today. Still,
his dream
and his legacy is very much alive. There is an old Yiddish proverb that
the
only truly dead people are those who have been entirely forgotten.
Last
night I spoke about the tragedy of war. Our inability to resolve
conflict
non-violently has led to and continues to lead to, countless deaths,
often of
civilians. This past summer as you know, Israel was engaged in battle
with
Hezbollah, radical Shiite guerrillas in Southern Lebanon. Nearly all
Israelis
initially favored attacking Hezbollah after they entered Israel on July
12 and
killed 8 soldiers and kidnapped 2. However, when the death toll,
especially of
civilians on both sides was rising, some Israelis began to speak out
for a
cease fire.
One
was the out spoken, articulate, respected
author David Grossman. Instead, the Israel Defense launched a
last-minute
offensive that cost the lives of 33 Israeli soldiers, including
ironically
Sergeant Uri Grossman, age 20, son of author David Grossman. When we
hear statistics
160 Israelis perished of which 118 were soldiers, or nearly 1000
Lebanese died,
nearly all civilians, the numbers are hard to grasp. But when we see
photos
with names, such as those who perished in Israel over the past 6 years
due to
the Intifada and the war in Lebanon, we are moved. They are so normal
looking-
no, beautiful. They could be our neighbor, our relative.
And
those Lebanese victims, likewise were someone’s family. It is grossly
unfair
anytime a person is denied a full life span. At the funeral for his
son, David
Grossman said, “I will not say anything now about the war in which you
were
killed. Our family has already lost this war. As for us we will gather
ourselves into our pain, surrounded by good friends, cloaked in great
love
which we feel from so many.”
Grossman
went on with words that speak to each of us, how we can find the
courage to
face loss and go on.
On
Saturday night at 2:40 am, our doorbell rang. On the intercom we were
told it
was someone form the Army, and as I went to open the door, I said to
myself –
that’s it, my life is over. But five hours later, when Michal and I
went into
Ruthie’s room (Uri’s sister) and we woke her up to tell her the
terrible news,
Ruthie cried, and then she said: But we’re going to live, aren’t we?
We’ll live
and we’ll go for walks like we did before; and I want to continue to
sing in
the choir. And let’s continue laughing as we always do. And I want to
learn to
play the guitar.” And we embraced her and said- we will live.
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