Drashot

Read Rabbi Dean’s High Holiday Sermons:

2015 Erev Rosh Hashanah Sermon — Reconciliation

2015 Morning Rosh Hashanah Sermon — Refugees

2015 Kol Nidre Sermon — Loss and Redemption

2015 Yom Kippur Sermon — Answer the Call

Read Rabbi Dean’s High Holiday Sermons:
Erev Rosh Hashanah sermon
Morning Rosh Hashanah sermon
Kol Nidre sermon
Yom Kippur sermon

Judaism is a religion of teleological history. The Jewish people have been on a collective journey, beginning with Exodus from Egypt, continuing through the present day, and moving toward a time in the future when the world will be redeemed and justice, mercy and equality will define human relations. Each of us in each generation is a link in that chain. This week’s Torah portion reminds us of our beginnings. “You shall then recite as follows before the Lord your God: ‘My father was a fugitive Aramean. He went down to Egypt with meager numbers and sojourned there; but there he became a great and very populous nation. The Egyptians dealt harshly with us and oppressed us; they imposed heavy labor upon us. We cried to the Lord, the God of our fathers, and the Lord heard our plea and saw our plight, our misery, and our oppression. The Lord freed us from Egypt by a mighty hand, by an outstretched arm and awesome power, and by signs and portents. He brought us to this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey.’” This is the Jewish “master story” in a nutshell. We were once enslaved. With God’s help we were redeemed and enjoyed the fruits of freedom. This is also our mission in life as Jews, to help bring the blessings of freedom and redemption to the world. In our generation, indeed in every generation, we are commanded to live and act in a way that all mankind can be redeemed.  This is our burden and our blessing.

What is a society’s obligation to the poor and needy? The Torah seems clear, “You shall not subvert the rights of the stranger or the fatherless; you shall not take a widow’s garment in pawn. Remember that you were a slave in Egypt and that the Lord your God redeemed you from there; therefore do I enjoin you to observe this commandment. When you reap the harvest in your field and overlook a sheaf in the field, do not turn back to get it; it shall go to the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow — in order that the Lord your God may bless you in all your undertakings. When you beat down the fruit of your olive trees, do not go over them again; that shall go to the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow. When you gather the grapes of your vineyard, do not pick it over again; that shall go to the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow. Always remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt; therefore do I enjoin you to observe this commandment.” (Deuteronomy 24:17-22) Our Torah seems clear, whether loaning money or providing support, we are obligated to help the poor. Judaism assumes that our experience of Egyptian slavery will give us a special empathy for the needy and God expects us to act on that empathy and help the poor and the neediest among us.

For Judaism, society must be founded on justice (tzedekin Hebrew). Our word for giving money istzedakah.It does not mean charity, although that is how it is often translated. Charity comes from the Latin word caritas, which comes from the word for heart, cor, and means altruistic love. Charity is connected to the heart and giving charity is based on how we feel. Buttzedakahis based on the divine call to make the world more just. Thus we are obligated to give money to help the poor. That is how we create a more just society. In this week’s Torah portion we read, “Justice, justice shall you pursue, that you may thrive and occupy the land that the Lord your God is giving you.” Our rabbis wondered why the word justice is repeated twice. They answered that this teaches us that justice must be applied fairly to all whether it is to our advantage or our disadvantage; personal interest or gain can play no part. A society that treats all its members with justice will grow and thrive because everyone will feel they have a fair chance to succeed. A society that treats some of its members better than others will ultimately collapse as resentment and mistrust cause the bonds of social solidarity to erode.

Judaism forbids idolatry, as we read this week, “If there appears among you a prophet or a dream-diviner and he gives you a sign or a portent, saying, “Let us follow and worship another god” … do not “heed the words of that prophet or that dream-diviner. For the Lord your God is testing you to see whether you really love the Lord your God with all your heart and soul.” What does it mean to worship false gods? We can answer this question by exploring what it means to worship God. The simplest answer is the one given by Hillel to the Roman soldier who asked Hillel to explain the Torah while standing on one foot. Hillel answered, “Whatever is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor. That is the whole Torah.” We worship God when we treat our neighbors, and by extension our families and communities, with kindness, respect and empathy. We worship idols when we care more about ourselves than we do others, when we care more about material success than moral integrity, and when we ignore the needs of others. Hillel’s last words to the Roman were, “now go and learn.” Let us learn true service by studying Torah and serving the needs of others.

In Judaism words matter. After all, God created the universe through speech. God spoke and the universe came into existence. So what we say is important. We spent this year studying the Talmud’s rules regulating speech and learned how much the rabbis wanted us to avoid hurting other people through speech.  This week, at the beginning of our Torah portion we read, “If a man makes a vow to the Lord or takes an oath imposing an obligation on himself, he shall not break his pledge; he must carry out all that has crossed his lips.” (Numbers 30:3) To the authors of the Bible and our rabbis spoken words were facts; they changed reality. So they took vows seriously. They encouraged people not to make vows, but if someone made a vow they were obligated to keep it up. Their word was their bond. In our society today we debase speech. We hide our meaning and our intentions behind vague and confusing words. Perhaps we would all be better off if we said what we meant and meant what we said… and paused and weighed our words before we spoke.