| Rosh
Hashanah I - 2006
Here is a condensed High Holiday story from Israeli Nobel
Prize Laureate, Shmuel Yosef Agnon.
"There was a rooster that lived with a Jew. The rooster made an easy living and
lacked for nothing. Nonetheless,
he was troubled and worried and never a smile would you catch on his face. When the month of Elul came round at
the end of the summer, his troubles were doubled, and he'd never crow without
bursting into tears. Now a mouse
lived there as well. The mouse
asked the rooster, "choicest of poultry, why do you sorrow so? You always have sustenance and a
dwelling, yet you are grieved and terrified and quivering and crestfallen
"
"
All the good things of your speech are as nothing
to me when I see the master of the house taking his prayer book in hand. And why? By reason of a certain prayer; when he reads this prayer on
the appointed eve of Atonement he takes a rooster, whirls it about his head,
saying, 'This rooster shall go to death,' and hands it over to the
slaughterer. Of me did Jeremiah
lament, 'I am the rooster that has seen affliction.'
Said the mouse to the rooster,
'If you set your trust
in me, I shall deliver you from the pitfalls of Mankind,
.' Said the rooster, 'And how can you
deliver me from the hand of a Human?'
Said the mouse, 'Have you never heard in all your days
what my father did to the lion who was bound and captive among Mankind? Father gnawed the ropes and freed the
lion. What father did for the king
of beasts, I can do for you, strongest of birds.'
.
Said the rooster to himself, 'Let the miracle come
whence it will,'
and to the mouse he said, 'And how will you act to
deliver me?'
Said the mouse, 'Choicest of poultry, the days of the
Night Prayers of Penitence, [the Selihot] that precede the New Year do approach, when people
arise and go early to the synagogue.
I shall go and eat up the prayer book so that not so much as a single
letter shall be left.'
Said the rooster, 'For Your salvation have I hoped, O
Lord!' And when the nights of the
Prayers of Penitence came round, the household all went off to the synagogue
and left the house without a human being.
Out came the mouse from his hole to eat the prayer book, and thereupon,
the cat on the watch fell upon the mouse and consumed him."
What's your immediate reaction? Shock? Disgust? Disappointment? Poor mouse? Poor rooster? Or
is it amusement? Does Agnon, or any author, care about
your feelings? I suspect every
writer does.
In an essay on "Stories and Feelings," author Bill
Johnson wrote: "Many stories are a journey of feeling for a story's
audience. As characters overcome
or pass through various obstacles to get what they want, they pass through
stages of feeling, and readers who identify with these characters or become
invested in what happens to them, share these feelings.
This makes a story different from real life, where
many people struggle to access their true feelings, feel a need to take drugs
to mute or control their feelings, or feel unable to express or experience
feelings."
And more than just writers care about your feelings. Neuro-psychologists
are examining the human brain to locate the exact source of our emotions. Therapists of all kinds are also
interested. Gunborg Palme, a certified psychologist and psychotherapist, defines
gestalt therapy as follows. "The
fundamental idea in gestalt therapy is to experience oneself as intensively as
possible, live in the present, act instead of theorizing, experience feelings
as directly as possible and take responsibility for ones actions and symptoms
so that one can function as a person where feelings, physical impressions,
thoughts and actions are connected."
This morning's Torah reading also deals with feelings,
if not in an obvious way in the text, then surely in the midrash. In old age, Abraham and Sarah finally
give birth to a son, Isaac. The
midrash, our ancient collection of homiletical interpretation, records. "The birth of Isaac was a happy event, and not in the house
of Abraham alone. The whole world
rejoiced, for God remembered all barren women at the same time as Sarah. They all bore children. And all the blind were made to see, all
the lame were made whole, the dumb were made to speak, and the mad were
restored to reason. And still a
greater miracle happened: on the day of Isaac's birth the sun shone with such
splendor as had not been seen since the fall of human beings, and as will shine
again only in the future world."
That does make for a pretty happy day.
But Abraham's joy in the Torah reading and in the
midrash is short lived. Soon, there are conflicts between Isaac and Ishmael, and
Sarah insists that Ishmael and his mother, Hagar, must be sent away into the
desert. The midrash reports. "Of all the trials Abraham had to
undergo, [and the Torah records ten trials], none was so hard to bear as this,
for it grieved Abraham sorely to separate himself from his son,
[Ishmael]."
Our feelings play an important role in other verses of
the Torah and in passages chosen for inclusion in our liturgy. Among the most prominent is the ve-ahavta, the paragraph that follows the shema in the morning and evening services and,
traditionally, is recited as we go to sleep. "And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart,
with all your soul and all your might."
Notice the order – "with all your heart" is first. The Art Scroll Siddur commentary notes: (Pg. 92) "The Mishnah (Berachot 9:5) explains that one should serve God
with all one's emotions . . ." And
as if to emphasize that emotions and feelings come first, the ve-ahavta paragraph goes on to say: "Let these matters that I
command you today be upon your
heart and you shall teach them
diligently to your children."
First, we love God, then His words must be in our hearts – we must
feel them – and if we do, then we will teach them to our children. Perhaps that is the real problem
of the American Jewish community today.
We don't love God, we do not have any feeling for His words, they are
neither a source of joy or meaning, awe or comfort, and as a result, our lack
of passion for God and Torah and tradition is what we teach children. The few hours of Religious School teach
knowledge, but where will the next generation learn to feel, especially to feel
for the state and people of Israel?
At least twice, if not more often, we teach the
subject, or is it really the distant object, of Israel to the children in our
Religious School. We teach them
the history of modern Israel and to understand its culture, people and
achievements. But I wonder if we
succeed in teaching them to feel for Israel. And as the rockets were falling this summer in Haifa and
other cities of northern Israel, what did you all feel? In fact, what do you feel whenever
Israel is in the headlines? Do you
feel pride in the accomplishments of the Jewish state? Do you fear for its safety and survival? Or do you feel embarrassed by its
policies? Are you even angry that
Jews defend themselves in a way that draws the criticism of much of the
world? What do you feel?
Especially, if you are young, a child, a teenager, a college student, a
young professional, even a middle aged adult, what do you feel for Israel? I am more confident about the feelings
of an older generation. They were
born when there was no state of Israel.
Zionism was clear in those days.
Jews worked to make a Jewish state a reality. The horrors of the Holocaust in the wake of a history filled
with exiles, ghettos and pogroms provided a clear vision and mandate for a
Jewish state. But I was already
born a few months after the state of Israel was declared. For nearly sixty years, Israel has been
reality, not a dream; a nation more than a vision. What do the middle aged and young Jews of today feel and
what will they teach their children or grandchildren to feel about Israel?
I do not want to confuse this question with
fundraising goals. Not that Israel
cannot use our support, it can of course.
Not only because of the war this past summer, but also as a result of
the endemic poverty as well. The
September 8, 2006 edition of the Forward (Pg. 4) reported. "In fact, the costs of war are only
exacerbating a longstanding clash over Israel's economic direction. [Prime Minister] Olmert's coalition
uncomfortably straddles the political debate kindled by rising inequality and
years of conservative economic policies.
The government's official annual poverty report, issued just last week
[the first week of September] by the National Insurance Institute, showed that
despite strong economic growth, the ranks of the poor grew yet again last year
reaching more than 1.6 million Israelis, a quarter of the population. The number of children below the
poverty line rose from 23% in 1998 to 35% in 2005, reportedly the highest
proportion in the West." Such news
leaves me feeling confused and sad.
We all should feel embarrassed by it. But it is not my focus this morning.
Nor do I want to confuse feeling for Israel with its
prospects for peace. I have no
idea what Hamas or Hezbollah, Syria or Iran, nor even the United States is planning
for Israel in the near or distant future.
There is no point in my speculating. Nor do I want you to focus on all the intellectual
reasons that we have learned and taught about the modern state of Israel. We surely know after the Holocaust, if
not before, the need for Jews to have a safe haven that will take them in at a
moment's notice. Since the modern
state has been formed, Jews from Arab countries, Jews from the former Soviet
Union, Jews from Ethiopia, Jews
from South America and even Jews from certain countries in Europe have needed
Israel as a safe haven. We know
that Israel protects us all. This
year we observed the thirtieth anniversary of the dramatic rescue in Entebbe. And if you do not recognize that
reference, it speaks volumes about both knowledge and feelings.
Nor do I want to confuse feeling for Israel with
perfection, either for Israel's current policies or past ones, especially as it
relates to the Palestinians.
Mistakes, tragic errors of judgment and action have been made. In the twentieth century, we bought land
from absentee landowners at the expense of local Arab workers, we drove local
Arabs off land and we conquered land – none of it ideal, some of it a
necessity. But have the
Palestinians made mistakes too?
Obviously, they continue to fulfill the old vision of Abba Eban: "they
never miss an opportunity to miss an opportunity." We do not have time this morning to look at the whole
history, so just a brief comment on the last year. In the September 10, 2006 edition of the New York Daily
News, (Pg. 30) there is an Associated Press article entitled: "Gaza
rebirth goes up in flames." "Just
a year ago, Gazans were euphoric with dreams of a renaissance that would turn
their squalid, overpopulated patch of land into an oasis on the Mediterranean.
Now Gaza is facing disaster.
'We are in the worst situation since 1967,'
the year Israel took control of Gaza, economist Omar Shaban said.
Palestinians and international officials insist the blame lies everywhere.
The Palestinians never properly planned for their newfound freedom. They isolated themselves by electing
Hamas, while militants continued to launch attacks on Israel from Gaza.
Minutes after the last Israeli soldier
pulled out of Gaza early on September 12, ominous signs emerged.
Security forces lost control as Palestinians ran
through the settlements, looting and torching greenhouses and buildings,
'We
cannot blame the occupation only .. we have to blame ourselves,' said Shaban,
the economist. 'There was no
master plan. There are no projects
going on.'" The mistakes and
tragedies continue, with destruction still more prevalent than construction.
So Israel's people and policies have not been and
probably will not be perfect.
Neither have, nor will, the Palestinian people nor their policies been
perfect. And we can be sure that
the people and policies of other Arab countries will also not be perfect. The key question for me today is how do
our young people, especially those on college and university campuses and
recent graduates, young professionals and young singles and marrieds feel about
imperfect Israel. Are they aware
that not only are many in the media biased against Israel, but also that the
internet is loaded with material that is prejudicial against Israel. On campuses and in offices you
will be challenged about Israel, both by those who want to see it destroyed and
by those who are simply under informed or misinformed. How do you respond? How will you respond? In the 2005 book, Stars of David:
Prominent Jews Talk About Being Jewish, actress Natalie Portman talks about
supporting Israel where she was born and lived until her family moved to Long
Island when she was three. "These
issues [about Israel] come up at parties and dinners with people who don't know
a lot, and as someone who was born in Israel, you're put in a position of
defending Israel because you know how much is at stake. It's become a much bigger part of my
identity in recent years because it's become an issue of survival." Do you feel what Natalie Portman feels?
I have heard many times about how the Jews of
Bethlehem came together spontaneously to the old Brith Sholom Community Center
on the south side when Israel was declared. What event involving Israel would bring us together
spontaneously today? What event
involving Israel would even bring us together with a lot of advanced notice and
a ton of announcements and advertising today?
Herman Wouk in his book This
is my God, wrote about Israel: "...the ancestral voice in our hearts...is
not imaginary or misleading. It is
the call of our deepest, truest, best selves....It is our immortality." A voice in our hearts – I
think that is a goal today, more than a reality. In my mind, I do not know exactly how to make others feel for
Israel. But in my gut, I think it
begins at home, like a love or learning or love of music or love of sports,
begins at home. I pray that this
year and in the coming years, we learn together how to make Jews feel Israel in
our hearts, lest we be like Agnon's mouse, a people and nation who looks to
help others, to always do "the right thing," but while doing so is consumed by
an enemy who carefully watches our every move, waiting for us to make a fatal
mistake.
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