Rabbi Harold M. Schulweis Sermons

We have benedictions for all occasions – on seeing the ocean, a rainbow, the blossoming of trees, and Talmudic sages prescribe a special benediction on seeing an assembly of Jews.

“Blessed is He who discerns secrets, for the mind of each is different from the other as is the face of each different from the other.”

It is a blessing over diversity in the world, different minds, different perceptions, different judgments. It is the benediction over Jewish pluralism.

I was raised in a Yiddishist, Zionist household, educated at a Yiddish schule, a Talmud Torah, a Yeshiva high school and college, and a conservative Jewish Theological Seminary. In this sense, I was born a pluralist. Some of my best friends are Jews.

Two strong-willed Jewish males, both born in Poland – one in a shtetl, Czechonov; the other in Warsaw. My Zayde Avraham, and my father Moshe – shaped my Jewish philosophy and temper.

On Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kipper, my Zayde took complete control of me. He took me to the shul and kept me in the shul, without respite. When the other kids left the service during the reading of the Torah to play in the corridor of the synagogue, I remained seated next to my Zayde, silent and motionless – not because of my piety, but because of Zayde’s long legs. His were wrapped tightly around my own legs so that I would not be tempted to leave the synagogue for any self-declared recess. I was Isaac bound by Abraham to the altar, and with no angel to intercede. I remained riveted to Zayde, constrained by his grip, but grateful for his attention.

Once, toward the end of the service, I felt Zayde’s huge tallis draped over my head so that I could not see the elders, the Kohanim, mount the bimah, stretch out their hands, join them together, spread their fingers in the shape of the Hebrew letter “sheen,” and chant the priestly benedictions. This was a time before Spock and Star Trek. I did not expect the dark shadows from the tallis covering, but I learned later that this ritual was based on a folklore. IF anyone looked at the duchanan of the priests, he could lose his sight. The incident left me with horror at the possibility of becoming sightless, and gratitude for my Zayde’s intervention. I learned from this that why and what the ritual is is sometimes less important than with whom it is performed.

In later years, I was troubled by some of the prayers in the machzor, particularly the “Al Chet” which read:

“Because of our sins, we were exiled from our land, and because of the destruction of the Temple by the hand that was sent into Thy holy sanctuary, we cannot not perform our duties.”

Whose hand destroyed the Temple ? It must be Nebuchadnezzar, whose army destroyed the First Temple in 586 B.C.E., and exiled the Jews to Babylon. Or, it may be the hand of the Roman emperors and procurators, who destroyed the Second Temple and expelled Israel in 70 C.E. In any event, why should Jews be punished for the villainous conquerors from Babylon and Rome? That’s not fair. I thought not to recite that prayer.

But the truth of the matter is, that it wasn’t the prayer that bothered me.

It was the pin that upset me. A few weeks before Rosh Hashanah, my parents took me to Zayde’s home. I was dressed in a new suit, and on the lapel of my jacket, my father had pinned a pin that spelled “Zion.” When my Zayde saw the pin, he grew infuriated and tore it off my lapel. He said that he would be ashamed to have his shul chaverim see his grandson wearing a Zionist symbol. My Zayde was not a Satmer Hassid (the Satmer were and are the largest Hassidic sect in the world, and regard Zionists as apostates, heretics). To this day, the Ultra-Orthodox in Israel will not serve in the Israel Defense Forces or pay taxes to the government, or celebrate Israel’s Day of Independence.

Weeks later, I asked Zayde why he was so upset by the pin, and he answered by opening up the Talmud to the tractate Talmud Katuboth, (page 111a) where God demanded Jews after the destruction of the Temple, to take the following binding oaths.

1. Israel, the Jewish people, shall not collectively attempt to reconquer the land from which they were exiled by God’s judgment and Israel’s sin.
2. Israel shall not rebel against the nations of the world.
3. Idolatrous nations shall not oppress Israel too much.

It was the pin, more than the oaths, that made me understand the tensions between Zayde’s Jewish world view and that of my father.

I have thought of those oaths often. What did the oaths call for? It was the pledge of a defeated people, tormented, humiliated and made homeless.

What counsel do you continue to give a people, who over two thousand years have lived with fear of expulsion and persecution? The oaths, much like Moses’ counsel to the refugee tribes that escaped from Egypt and now in the desert were surrounded by pursuing Egyptian chariots one side, and a threatening Red Sea on the other. Moses, understanding the slave mentality of the Jews who escaped from Egypt, told them – “Stand still. Don’t resist. Wait. God will do battle for you.” In short, the oaths shaped the character of passivity, quietism and dependence that characterized homeless Jews.

The 17th century philosopher Baruch Spinoza, in his Tractatus characterized Jews as “effeminate spirits.’ The vows spelled out a theology of defeat. There is no punishment without sin, and the exile was God’s punishment for the sins of Israel. Obedience without protest was the proper posture of Jewish piety.

I asked myself over and over again, do I believe that? Do I believe that we Jews deserved the contempt of the persecutors? And if Titus, Trajan, Vespasian, and other Roman emperors and procurators were guilty, why is our defeat judged or justified as punishment? Were all the villains God’s rod with which to hurt Israel – Pharoah, Haman, Hitler, Stalin…?

But if I didn’t believe in that, why should I nevertheless pray my disbelief? Do I have a right not to recite what was written by Moses? By what right could I?

Months later I chanced upon a remarkable Talmudic discussion that surprised me for its searing integrity. In the Talmud Yoma, page 69, Moses addresses God as:

“God great, mighty, and awesome.” The Talmud goes on to declare that the Prophet Jeremiah, before the destruction of the first Temple in 6th century BCE, protested, “Heathens are spread over all the Temple. Our people are on the verge of desolation. Where then is God’s might?” And so Jeremiah deliberately deleted the attribute of “might” from the virtues of God.

The Talmud continues: Then came Daniel who witnessed Jews languishing in Babylonian captivity. He asked, “Where is God’s awesomeness?” So he deliberately deleted “awe” from God’s attributes.

The rabbis in the Talmud are shocked. How can prophets such as Jeremiah and Daniel omit from their prayers divine attributes that are inscribed in the Torah, and revealed to Moses?

The rabbis answered, “They – Jeremiah and Daniel -- did so because ‘Truth is God’s seal.’” You can’t pray over what you think to be false. You can’t praise God for his “might” and “awe” when God’s children are murdered and massacred, and his people made homeless. To praise god for what he’s not is sycophancy. Better muteness than mendacity.

In short, the rabbis felt that to lie about the attributes of God is to violate the third commandment of the ten. “You shall not use the name of God in vain.” That doesn’t mean “Don’t write the name of God or Lord, but “G–d” or “L–rd.” That’s trivializing the commandment which means don’t wrap corrupted shrouds God’s tallis.

Questions beget questions. The more I thought of the issue of sin and punishment, and the more I studied the bible, the more surprised I was at the boldness and courage of the prophets to refuse to acquiesce to the indictments of God against our people. But why did Zayde not hear or teach the dignity of the Book of Job, or the Psalms or the Prophets?

I read with surprise and pride that spirited section from the book of Psalms (Chapter 44): “We have heard … our fathers have told us the deeds You performed in their days.” Yet, You, God, have rejected us. You have scattered us. You have sold Your people. You have made them a laughingstock . . . yet we have not forgotten You, or been false to Your covenant. It was for Your sake that we are slain all day long.

“God, rouse Yourself! Why do You sleep? Awake. Do not reject us. Why do You hide Your face? Arise.”

This is not Zayde’s oath of compliance or acquiescence or appeasement or passivity. This is the firm voice of protest against God’s apparent neutrality. This is the defiant tone unparalleled in world religions. Would the Son of God speak that way to the Father in Heaven? Would Mohammad challenge Allah in this way? This kind of protest that is uniquely Jewish and that runs throughout the Bible.

Remember, early in the career of Abraham, the first Jew, Abraham learns that God means to destroy the cities of Sodom and Gomorah. God feels compelled to inform Abraham of God’s motivation, intention, and purpose. God must reason with Abraham, must negotiate. Because Abraham the Jew is not a robotic follower. Once God reveals to Abraham that he, God, God of tzedakah and mishpat -- justice and righteousness -- is fair and truthful. With that knowledge Abraham confronts God with a firm, moral voice that resonates and reverberates throughout Judaism and through Judaism to civilization. Abraham’s moral courage is inscribed { suddenly? compellingly?} into Jewish conscience. Abraham in Judaism is never chastised for questioning God or king or prophet. Jewish moral heroism confronts God in God’s name for God’s sake. God must be God. God must be just and righteous else Abraham will not lead and Israel ought not follow blindly.

“Shall the Judge of the world not act justly? God forbid that you punish the good people with the same whip with which you punish evil predators.”

This is to my mind the underlying heroic moral character of Judaism. The elevation of the human being to address God without fear of recrimination or intimidation is no eccentric isolated passage.

Open the book of the prophet Habakkuk, chapter 1: “How long, oh lord, must I cry for help but You do not listen; when I cry ‘violence’ you do not save?”

Why do the wicked live at ease?

Thou who Have

eyes too pure to behold evil, why do you countenance treachery and stand idly by?” Turn to the prophet Isaiah, chapter 63, who addresses the children of Israel iun this fashion: “Take ye no rest, and give God no rest. For the sake of Zion, I will not rest.” Man gives God no moral holiday. Innocent lives are at stake. People are being gassed. Infants writhe on the ground asphyxiated. Rouse Thyself. Better insomnia than indifference.

Or open the majestic Book of Job in the Bible, which portrays the dignity of man in a quarrel with God, a prayer which in Yiddish is called Krigen zich mit gott – quarrelling with God. As Jacob prevailed, Job prevails. For Job is a man of godliness, whose virtues are tested by God to see whether Job will retain his inner honesty and faith God even though Job will suffer the loss of his sons and daughters, the failure of his flock and the affliction of leprous disease. Job is comforted by his friends. The comforters insist that Job ought not complain about his lot, for God judges in truth and of course there is no punishment without sin. So Eliphaz, one of the friends of Job asserts, “Remember, Job, whoever perished being innocent? They that plow iniquity and sow iniquity reap the same.” If you suffer, it must mean that you have transgressed. So, accept your misfortune with reverent equanimity.

But Job will not be muted. He will not bow down before such an indictment. Job cries out to God, “I am a decent man. I am a good man. I will not feign guilt. Do not forget my life. And then Job recalls His virtues: “For when you heard me, then it blessed me, and Thy eyes saw me, it gave me witness unto me; I delivered the poor that cried, the fatherless also that had none to help him . . . I caused the widow’s heart to sing for joy. I was eyes to the blind and feet was I to the lame. I was father to the needy.” But Job’s friends continue to defend God conventionally as the righteous judge of Job’s transgression. Job is intransigent.

Now, in the last chapter of the Book of Job, God speaks consolingly to Job, and turns against Job’s friends and declares, “You have not spoken of Me the thing that is right as Job has.” Then God orders Job’s so-called comforters: “Take several bullocks and rams and sacrifice them. Make apology for your unfeeling defense of God on the back of Jobs’ lacerations. You comforters have poured salt on Job’s open sores. You think that you are defending God, but you insult a righteous man.

Listen to God’s chastisement of His defenders and Job’s comforters. “You have not spoken of Me the thing that is right as Job has. Bring sacrifices to apologize for your false defense of Me which is an offense to Job’s humanity.”

What do these subterranean voices signify? Why was I not taught those, the sacred moral audacity that did not muzzle the ethical sensibility of patriarchs, matriarchs, prophets and rabbis? Why was my father not taught the righteous indignities from the pulpit?

Do our own children and grandchildren know, study this pulsating robust Jewish ethical tradition? So precious in a world that is losing its moral compass? Or will this vital nerve be interred in the mausoleum of ingnorance?

The rabbi in the Talmud charged Job’s friends apologetics of God with “Onaat devarim” – verbal over-reaching or verbal over-belief.

They tell a story of one such teacher who was so “frum” that she answered every question anyone asked with the same answer: “Ha-Shem.” -- Why is the sky blue? “Ha-Shem.” Why did the tsunami hit Japan? “Ha-Shem.” Why the Holocaust? “Ha-Shem.”

One day, the teacher said, “Children, what has a bushy tail, scurries about in the summer, gathering nuts and berries to eat during winter days?” Bernie raised his hand, “I know, Teacher! The answer is “Ha-Shem. But it sure sounds like a squirrel….”

That is bad theology! When God or “Ha-Shem” is used to explain everything, it can be used to explain anything. Then “Ha-Shem” can be used to read the mind of Ha-Shem: The World Trade Center bombing was caused by those who favor abortion. Or oppose abortion. Or those who support immigrants, or oppose them; or those who plead for gun control or those who oppose gun control.

Then “Ha-Shem” becomes a way of putting your prejudice nto God’s will. If God is responsible for everything, you and I can justify our irresponsibility. It’s all God’s responsibility.

So, Ha-Shem becomes a cause for whatever reason you like, and you are off the hook. But God is on the hook for everything. We have made God the eternal scapegoat. With Job’s friends and theology we become God’s mind-readers. You dn’t have to argue, to give reasons for your position. Just say “Ha-Shem.” Who needs squirrels?

That’s not fair to God. That’s not fair to Zayde. That’s not fair to Papa.

I reserve Kol Nidre and Yom Kippur to hear Papa’s Jewish sentiment and Jewish faith. My purpose is to affect a reconciliation between two Jewish ideals. As it is written in the last sentence of the last Jewish prophet, Malachai, “Turn the heart of the father to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers.”

Zayde and Papa are good Jews. They do not understand each other. We cannot afford to lose either of them.