sermons

Connection

We have examined quite a few different reasons to be Jewish over the last week and a half, and this morning we come to the last, and probably most important. Even more important that finding a source of ethics or spirituality, even more important than giving us a sense of joy in the world and in our lives, being a Jew means that we are not alone. We are connected to others like us throughout the world and throughout the ages.

This is perhaps the most powerful answer to the question, why be Jewish. We are Jewish because by being Jewish we are connected. From the first moments of our story in the Torah we read that God realizes “it is not good for Man to be alone.” Certainly we understand this from a perspective of marriage, but it is also a basic truth our human existence. We need to be a part of something. Anyone who has taken a basic psychology class knows what happens with subjects that are separated off from all contact. We read about the recluse and hermit and say to ourselves that is just not normal.

The desire to be a part of the group runs deep, and people will do a great deal and expend much effort to call themselves a member. Take fraternities and sororities. Now I have nothing against the Greek System, so no need to take offence, but look at the lengths to which people will go to be a part of something. When I was at UCSD, one of my roommates was a member of a rather elite fraternity, and every pledge season we would have one of the cleanest apartments in the building as my roommate would casually invite the pledges over to clean. And they would come and clean our bathroom and kitchen and floor all because they wanted to be a part of something.

It is who we are. We need to be connected. So where do we go to find that sense of belonging and connection that we are so looking for? Well, as we have discussed, sometimes we look elsewhere, but we have had a place to turn to for two thousand years—and we don’t even have to clean the bathroom to get in.

Our heritage connects us to our past. To all of the generations that came before us. We are of the same stock as Abraham and Moses as Rabbi Akiva and Rambam, as Brandeis and Einstein. They are our family and we share in their accomplishments. We look at what our people have given to the world and can be proud to be a part of that group.

We have passed down a tradition that leaves a mark as it goes from one generation to the next. That is why the ceremony we do here at Beth Am during B’nai Mitzvah is so powerful. We are looking at the chain of generations as we pass the Torah down from one to the next. As I stand on the bimah with the family, I wonder who is standing there with us. What types of people fill the ranks before those there on that day and what did they have to pass on to the next generations.

We are not only connected through lineage, but also through language. There are three languages that can be called Jewish: Hebrew, Yiddish, and Ladino (which is a mixture of Spanish and Hebrew), but only one, Hebrew, that is universally Jewish. It does not matter where one lives, we have a common tongue.

I remember visiting Hungary with my family and we went to the Doheny St. synagogue. Although my mother speaks Hungarian, I never learned, but that did not stop me from being able to speak with the shames that took care of the shul. And more importantly to convince him that we were in fact Jews. He did not quite believe us when we were speaking English or Hungarian, but as soon as I switched to Hebrew, the door literally opened for us.

It does not matter where in the world we are; we have that connection through our language. I have been in countries where I did not understand the rabbi’s sermon—well I’ve in America and did not understand it either—but in all the places I’ve been I have been able to daven with other people. We may not be able to discuss the weather or politics, but we can say Shema together, and in doing so establish a connection that goes far deeper than anything so superficial as politics.

We are connected to our past through a shared history. Beginning in the Torah we share a common story that links us together. The fact that I live here in San Diego and others live in Europe, Latin America or Israel is merely a chapter in the same story. We are all ultimately responding to the same forces and similar situations. Even though we celebrate differently the theme is still there.

Last night I spoke about Passover. The way in which it is celebrated is one of the most differentiated aspects of Jewish tradition. Do we eat corn, or do we not? Do we add in a special cup for Miriam or an orange on the Seder plate? We each celebrate in our own way, but ask why and the answer is always the same: because we, all of us, were slaves in Egypt and God took us out with an outstretched arm and mighty hand.

We are connected to our past through a bond with the land of Israel. The story we all look to begins and end there. We have fought for it, bled for it, prayed for it and died for it, and through it we are all linked. Israel is the home to which children who have gone off on their own can always return. It gives us our sense of security, and even if we don’t always agree with the decisions made there, it is still our home.

We are connected to our past through a sense of tradition. Whether through nostalgia or belief, we take comfort in doing things the way our ancestors did. We never really liked those hard matza balls, but we make them the same way because, that is the way we have always had them. There is a comfort in that and a connection to those who came before us. That is why Tevye, from Fiddler on the Roof, held on so long to tradition in the face of change and realized that he could only go so far. At a certain point we are no longer who we were, and the connection is lost.

But Tevye’s goal was not only to preserve tradition for himself. Rather he was trying to do so for the future. He recognized that without being able to give that connection to our children and those who follow, we are lost. And so Judaism connects us not only to the past, but also to what is to come.

Much of what we do today as Jews is to preserve the future. We educate our children, build buildings, and provide structure so that those who come after us will have something here. So that they will not have to begin again but can stand on the shoulders of those who come before them and reach higher heights.

We give them the same tools that we ourselves use to connect to the past: Language, History, Israel, Traditions. And we hope. We hope that they will find a way to make that connection, that they will find a way to bridge the gap between past and future.

My friends, we do not need to hope. What we need to do is to create that bridge, and we do it right now in the present. We do it by finding a way ourselves to connect so that our children have something on which to model themselves. We do it by recognizing that we have a home in Judaism and here at Beth Am that we can turn to for joy, help and learning.

We take the time to learn the prayers so that when our children begin to do so they have someone to do it with. We can begin to make the language of Judaism our own again, even if it has been a while.

We take pride in our history and who we are, so that when those who come after us are faced with the realities of life they too will be able to find comfort and connection in their heritage.

We form a bond with the land of Israel that far exceeds politics and bloodshed. That takes us back to the first time God said to Abraham, Lekh Lekha, get up and go for yourself and see the land that you have been given.

This year the UJF is running a mission trip to Israel at the end of April and May. I will be on that trip and I invite you to join me, especially if you have never been there before. Let me show you where we come from and why we are so connected to the Land of our ancestors.

But most of all we make that bridge by building a Jewish community with a foundation of traditions that will be the link through time. A place to come and learn, to pray, to see other Jews, and through our traditions make a link between one family and another and between one person and another.

This is that community, and the people you see sitting around you are family. At times I have members come up to me and tell me that they do not recognize the faces any more. We have grown out of the tire store and into a much larger group of people. But look around and you’ll see that we have all made Beth Am a home and a place to connect, and that in turn connects us.

We began on the first night of Rosh Hashanah with a story. It was about a man who went looking for his dream in far away place, only to find out that what he was looking for was actually in his own home all the time.

Over these Holy Days we have dug and examined our own back yard and found indeed that there is a great treasure, but it is not one that we can simply dig up and spend. It is instead a treasure that grows ever more beautiful and abundant the more we tend to it. It is the seeds for a rich crop that we together must care for, water, and harvest, and that will provide a fruit that is far sweeter and richer than any we can imagine.

May this year bring us an abundant crop, and we find the wisdom and passion to tend to it and care for it so that it will continue to yield its fruit for time to come.

I wish you a g’mar hatima tovah, and a sweet new year.