No man is an island entire of itself; every man
is a piece of the continent, a part of the main;
if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe
is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as
well as any manner of thy friends or of thine
own were; any man’s death diminishes me,
because I am involved in mankind.
And therefore never send to know for whom
the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
John Donne
Last night we were exhorted that “We are One.” I am always grateful to spend time with Pastor Nat Edmond. He is, bar none, the best preacher I have ever heard. Last night was no exception. Not only are we one, all created in the image of G-d, that alone would be enough, but African Americans and Jews have a similar history. We have worked together for decades. We have been partners to create a more just society. For all of us. Because we are all created b’tzelem elohim, in the image of G-d.
He is right. We have work to do. Lots of work. To create the type of society that we read about in Leviticus. My professor Dr. Rabbi Nehemia Polen used to explain the Book of Leviticus, which we begin to read today, as a reset button. It was G-d’s attempt to get the Israelites to draw close to G-d. To live with G-d. To bond with G-d. To be one with G-d. To repeat, to recreate the experience of the Israelites standing on the shores of the sea and the foot of Mount Sinai. Leviticus is all about sacrifice. Offerings. That’s how we draw close to G-d. The root of the word, sacrifice, Avodah, is the same as the word for work—Avodah. Make no mistake. Serving G-d is work. Hard work. Sacrifice. Creating the kind of society that G-d demands in Leviticus, is work. It is work to “Be holy, for I the Lord, your G-d am holy.
That work entails feeding the hungry, housing the homeless, clothing the naked. That work is the work of our community garden and our participation in Elgin Cooperative Ministry’s Soup Kettles. That work includes making sure that we welcome the widow, the orphan, the stranger, the most marginalized amongst us. That work means making sure that there is a seat at the table for everyone. Sometimes it means making that table longer. That work means making sure that the justice system is fair, neither favoring the rich or showing deference to the poor. That work means paying the wages of the laborer on time, every time. It is all in the book we are beginning today.
That lesson comes straight out of the Book of Leviticus, from the Holiness Code, Kedoshim, which commands us that we must “Love our neighbor as ourselves.” That’s why after Charleston, I called Pastor E. We had a long discussion about safety and security that day. That’s why yesterday I reached out to every Muslim leader I know. It is part of being in the covenant. It is part of doing G-d’s work. It is part of being one.
But we have another lesson today, also. Today is Shabbat Zachor, the Shabbat before Purim. We read three difficult verses. Today we are to remember not to forget—that is strong language, Amalek, to blot out Amalek’s name, to completely and utterly destroy him.
King Saul lost his kingship when he didn’t obey. When he had the opportunity to wipe out the King of the Amalekites, to kill the King of the Amalekites, he hesitated and he spared him.
Who were the Amalekites and why is the punishment so harsh? The Amalekites attacked the rear guard, the women, children and elderly—the most vulnerable, when the Israelites were fleeing Egypt.
There are many ways to look at this text. It is Judaism after all. Rabbi Irwin Huberman, my colleague in New York, asks this question:
“What were the elderly, the physically and mentally challenged, single mothers and parentless children doing back there alone in the first place?” There is a fine line here-and we must take care not to blame the victims for their own tragedy-but let us consider, as members of a civilized society, “What is the responsibility of the strong and healthy to ensure that the weak and defenseless among us are protected?”
This is not to blame the victims but instead an opportunity to look at our responsibility and accountability. To the widow, the orphan, the stranger, to those with disabilities, who may not move as fast as the rest of the group, to those who are different, who may not look like us or talk like us, to those struggling with mental illness or substance abuse or….or….This is part of being in the covenant too! All are welcome here.
We read this portion this week because it is just before Purim. You see, Purim celebrates the victory of the Jews, of Queen Esther, over the wicked Haman—a descendent of Amalek. In every generation, we are to see that there is an Amalek. Some even see Hitler as an Amalek.
Yossi Klein Halevi wrote an important article detailing the fact that there are two kinds of Jews. Purim Jews and Passover Jews. I have talked about this before. I thought he had found the description of my own home. You see, Simon hates Purim. I always thought it was the chaos that ensues, but he posted an important article about the underside of the Purim story published by the Reform Movement. https://reformjudaism.org/jewish-holidays/purim/adult-look-less-savory-truths-purim?fbclid=IwAR1dqGhgOTRqbGSCBhLbw1YH69CcpX22lUlU0B77rRJkAhUW5_oi6I-Nc0k
Simon loves Passover. The food, the language, the expanded time to sit at dinner and discuss the issues of the day.
Yossi is teaching something different. Some Jews get the message of Purim—the world is a scary place. They are always out to get us. There are always Amalekitse. Be afraid. Be very afraid. And then there are Passover Jews, those who believe that we have to welcome the widow the orphan the strangers because we were strangers in the land of Egypt. We know what it is to be a slave.
I think there is a third way. I have said we need to have both philosophies at the same time. It is a both/and. A balancing act.
It is clear to me that we live in scary times. The events in Oak Creek, WI make that clear. The events in Charleston make that clear. The events in Charlottesville make that clear. The events in Pittsburgh make that clear. Sadly, and yet again, the events in Christchurch make that much more real.
Make no mistake. This is important. Today. Again. Sadly. Anti-semitism and white supremacy are on the rise. Hate groups and hate crimes are on the rise. Globally. The FBI and organizations like the ADL and Southern Poverty Law Center have statistics to go with that statement. I have ordered two books this week. One by Rabbi Evan Moffic and one by Deborah Lipstadt, both on anti-semitism.
But the response to events like that—or bombs reigning down in Tel Aviv in Tel Aviv this week, is not to lash out. The danger of the Purim story, is its apparent license to kill. To blot out Haman and all the Amalikites.
In 1994 Dr. Baruch Goldstein walked into the Cave of the Patriarchs, into Machpella, on Purim. He killed 29 Muslims in prayer. The Israeli government of the time immediately condemned the massacre, and responded by arresting followers of Meir Kahane, and criminalized his Kach party.
This is important. Today. Again. As we approach the upcoming election in Israel, the current prime minister has embraced the descendents of the Kahanists. It seems it may be the only way he can preserve his fragile coalition. At what price? Have we become Purim Jews alone?
Words matter. We have an obligation as Jews to call out racism and anti-semitism, Islmaphobia and anti-gay sentiment wherever we hear it. From our friends in a casual joke, in our government, whether it is on the right or the left.
This week I received this statement of the Conservative Movement:
“Words matter. The Torah teaches that God created the world through words. We remember as much in the daily prayers, “Praised is the One who spoke and the world came to be.” The responsibility rests with the words we choose whether we build or destroy worlds. And how we respond to the words of others matter. Words matter everywhere in the ongoing work of creation. A week does not go by when we don’t hear from Jewish kids in local public schools who are bullied for being Jewish or about a political or religious leader who spews hate. Living with the trauma of anti-Semitism is part of our complicated reality. How we talk about that, without being offensive, is a struggle we navigate even within the Jewish community.”
It went on to decry the words of Representative Omar and to decry death threats against her. Both/and. I decry the spray painting of the poster in the Brooklyn subway with anti-semitic graffiti. I decry the sentiments that led to the mass murder in Christchurch. Both/and.
All of this is a balancing act. How do remain warm and welcoming and protect our members? How do we assess what is a real threat when there have only been 5 shootings at Jewish institutions in 20 years? You are more at risk driving home from shul than sitting in our pews.
And yet, on a morning like this, our anxiety rises. The answer is in having policies and procedures that are well thought out and detailed. In practicing and drilling. In being, as the Boy Scouts and Girls Scouts would say, “Be Prepared.” At CKI we are, to the best of our ability. We have a safety and security committee. We have had ALICE training, fire and tornado drills. And we have a well established, deep partnership with the Elgin Police Department.
When we think about Amalek this morning I offer you these words of another professor at Hebrew College, Nehama Leibowitz: “Evidently the criterion of God-fearingness (yirat Elohim, awe of God)…may be measured by the attitude of the subject to the weak and the stranger. Where the fear/awe of God is lacking, the stranger who is homeless in a foreign land is liable to be murdered…In this context, Amalek is condemned for killing the weak and smiting the feeble because “he feared not God.”. This is evidently the reason why we were commanded to blot out the memory of Amalek, since they came and fell upon the defenseless and weary without any pretext whatsoever… “Amalek” against whom the Almighty declared eternal war is not any more an ethnic or racial concept, but is the archetype of the wanton aggressor who smites the weak and defenseless in every generation.”
This morning, I want to remember, not to forget the words of my friend and Muslim leader, Kiran Asani, in yesterday’s Daily Herald, “Our faith has to be stronger than our fear. Not just on Friday. Not just today. But especially on Friday. And especially today.”
This morning, I want to remember not to forget the unsung heroes. Today, I want to remember not to forget, the first responders who rush in. To places like Pratt in Aurora or to the Tree of Life Synagogue. I want to remember not to forget Pastor Jeff, who stood outside with me at our own vigil after Pittsburgh. I want to remember not to forget how the Muslim community rose after Pittsburgh and my colleagues all over the country who rose yesterday and spent their Friday afternoons at mosques. I want to remember not to forget organizations like the Community Crisis Center and Ecker and Food for Greater Elgin who do the work day in and day out of taking care of the most vulnerable. I want to remember not to forget the words of my partner and my friend, Pastor Nat Edmond who exhorts us that we have work to do. Soon. After Shabbat.
My reading before Kaddish:
We are one.
Created in the image of the One G-d.
We are one.
We stand.
We stand for the Amidah, the standing prayer.
We stand for Kaddish, the prayer that praises G-d for life.
For all life
We recite these words, when we lie down and when we rise up.
We stand.
We stand with school children. In Columbine, Sandy Hook and Parkland.
In the United States, in Norway and Brazil.
We stand with those in Charlottesville.
We stand with those in a Siek temple in Wisconsin
In a black church in Charleston
In the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh.
We stand with a McHenry County Sheriff’s family.
We stand with the family of Decynthia Clements.
We are taught, “To save one life is to save the world.”
They are taught, “To save one life is to save the world.”
So we stand.
Still we stand.
Together.
Tonight
We stand with those in mosques around the world.
In Christchurch and in Elgin.
We are one.
We stand.
Together as one.