April 14, 2015

On Shabbat, the last day of Passover, we read the rules of Sh’mita. The reading began with the idea that we should give 10% of our assets to support the community.

“Set aside a tenth of all that your fields produce each year.” Deuteronomy 14:22.

This is radical stuff. Then it becomes even more radical as it tells us that every seven years we need a rest. We need release. This is definitely tied in the land and into Passover with its theme of Passover.

And it is relevant today. It felt like a bookend. Just before Passover began, a small group of us gathered to study, and I had chosen the rules of Sh’mita since this is a Sh’mita year in Israel. We carefully looked at all the Biblical references, about 15 of them. Ultimately Sh’mita is about how to organize a society after the “high” of walking through the Sea of Reeds and experiencing the miracle of freedom. How to organize a society after the “high” of receiving the 10 Commandments at Mount Sinai. And how quickly do those Israelites slip! They need these other laws. They need these practical how-tos. Not about how to approach the Divine. Not about how to see wonder but how to live together.

Because the Israelites, they kvetch. They complain. Almost from moment one. I told the story on Saturday from Rabbi Larry Kushner about Reuven and Shimon. No not my husband Simon. Reuven and Shimon are the Talmudic names attached to the ordinary guys. These two regular guys are walking through the Sea of Reeds. And they complain. They don’t see the miracle. All they see is the mud on their feet.

Then the Israelites complain that they are thirsty. That they want to go back to Egypt to eat onions and leeks. Really? Onions and leeks. I love them. But exchange freedom for slavery with onions and leeks? Not so fast.

So we studied the sh’mita laws, using a guide book, a source book that Hazon put together specifically for this year. http://hazon.org/shmita-project/educational-resources/shmita-sourcebook/

The first text is from Exodus and tells us that part of sh’mita is not gossiping. It is about protecting the needy. It is about a Shabbat for the land. Simply, as the people gathered told us, it tells us “Be a mensch” After the high of Sinai it teaches us how to live in community, the practicality of how to set up society. Not gossiping is a critically important rule for building a community. And it happens all too often. Even in communities that think they are warm and welcoming.

The next set of texts is from Leviticus 25. These are the core of the sh’mita rules. What we noticed is that what it teaches is the need to trust G-d. Trust G-d and you will be rewarded, even when the land lies fallow. G-d will provide. Like the manna. It is a gift. A continuing gift. You can eat the gift. You can and should share the gift. With the poor, the widow, the orphan, the stranger precisely (again) because we were strangers in Egypt. But you cannot store the gift.

This means we cannot worry about whether there is going to be enough. There is enough. Period. And since we are good Jews we come up with good questions. The land rests. The people rests. This frees us. It frees us up. The question becomes what do we do with that extra time. There is a responsibility that comes with freedom.

We learned that it is not a loss. It has something to do with security. Preparing a long time in advance. And again, it is not us doing it, it is G-d doing it.

So if we are called to trust and it is G-d that is providing, not necessarily we alone, how does that effect us today? How do we trust that people will really give gifts of their hearts? Freewill offerings?

We talked about our role in terms of nuclear disarmament and climate change. We need to take the long view. What does 25 years from now look like? What about 50?

What about our own congregation? What does 25 years from now look like? What about 50?

Let’s go back to that first text. What if we do give 10% or even just 2.5% to sustain the community? What if it is not called dues? What does it mean to be a member? These are the questions that Rabbi Kerry Olitzky and his son Rabbi Avi Olitzky wrestles with in their new book. Like the laws of sh’mita, this book has radical implications for setting up community in a synagogue.

One of the initial they use is a sh’mita text: “You should not appear before God empty-handed. Every person should give in accordance with how he [or she] has been blessed by God.” (Deuteronomy 16: 16b– 17) Gifts to the mishkan were gifts of the heart. But everybody gave. Something. At least a half-shekel. Nonetheless, Olitzky said, “We also want to change the way synagogue leaders and members think about dues, to drop the image of dues as a form of taxation— which few people actually enjoy paying— and to promote the notion that dues are an expression of philanthropy, giving from the heart, which has the potential to elevate the soul.”

Elevate the soul. That’s what we want. A way to connect with each other and with G-d. We don’t want to pay to pray, although we need someone, anyone to pay for the infrastructure so that we can pray.

We then had a discussion about why people come to synagogue. Some come because they need others—at least 10 in a minyan—to be fully religious. They agreed that group is getting smaller and smaller. Our own focus group study conducted before I came concluded that only 17% come for religious services. Some come because they want community. For them it is a chance to catch up and see friends. To share the news of the week. To rejoice and be comforted. Synagogue is a touchstone. A place that is warm and welcoming. A place that you can refocus. A place that provides moral guidance. A place you can learn.

Those ideals, that vision is not much different from Olitzky quoting Wolfson. He asks “Does my synagogue:

1. Change my life?
2. Strengthen my family?
3. Give me a community of friends to celebrate the ups and downs of my life?
4. Teach me how to use Jewish study and practice to enhance my life?
5. Connect me to both a sacred and a civic Jewish community in a significant way?
6. Give me a sense of belonging to the Jewish people?
7. Deepen my relationship with the State of Israel?
8. Lead me to do the work of repairing the world?
9. Help me to build a relationship with God, however I define God?”

Quite simply synagogues exist “to meet three basic human needs: the need to belong, the need to believe, and the need to become.”

At CKI we have figured that out. It matches our vision statement of lifelong learning, meaningful observance, embracing diversity and building community. Based on our conversation at services it still serves us well.

The trick is figuring out how to pay for that in equitable ways. This new book is a must read for every rabbi, every Jewish communal leader and every synagogue board member. I am ordering multiple copies.

Taking our vision and making it a reality, is the hard part. By studying the Biblical laws of Sh’mita and Olitzky’s book, I believe we can get there.