Rosh Hashanah 5783 Day II – Beth Israel Sermon

by | Sep 28, 2022 | Hillel Ontario, Jewish Holiday | 0 comments

 

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה, יְיָ אֱלֹהֵינוּ, מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, שֶׁהֶחֱיָנוּ וְקִיְּמָנוּ וְהִגִּיעָנוּ לַזְּמַן הַזֶּה.

Blessed are You, HaShem our God, Sovereign of all, who has kept us alive, sustained us, and brought us to this season.

When I was thinking about what I would talk to you all about today, one thing I kept coming back to was a sense of both familiarity but also of “newness”.

These feelings permeate everything at this time of year in general… Rosh Hashanah always feels both familiar and new. Who knows what the year will bring? Yet the same melodies each year remind us that we’ve been here before.

But the more I thought about it, the more I realised… that this year in particular I’m seeing familiarity and also newness everywhere I turn.

Each time I set foot in this building I feel the sense of familiarity and also newness and I’m sure many of you do too. Familiarity because I was privileged to grow up in a wonderful community in London that inspired much of my initial commitment to my Jewish practice and while Beth Israel is not that shul, it exudes the same values that have made both this shul and that shul second homes to me.

More familiarity and newness.

I’m moving into a new house next week! So that’s new! But it’s literally next door… and that’s familiar!

I don’t know about you but I’m still getting used to being fully in person again. My work as the Hillel Director in Kingston is similar to that which I did prior to the pandemic but it is also new and different. I’m sure many of you feel as I do… we must get used to the fact that some things simply will never go back to how they were before.

One area of my work that I encounter more frequently than I would like is something that will be familiar to us all but never fails to feel like a brand new punch in the gut.

The late Chief Rabbi of the United Kingdom, Lord Jonathan Sacks, of blessed memory, famously described Antisemitism as being like a virus. It’s “how it has survived for so long”, he said, “by mutating”.

So in the Middle Ages, Jews were persecuted because of our religion. In the 19th and 20th centuries we were reviled because of our supposed racial identity. Today, Jews are attacked because of the existence of our nation state, Israel. And denying Israel’s right to exist is undoubtedly a new antisemitism.

And just as antisemitism has mutated, so has its legitimisation. Each time, as the persecution descended into barbarity, the persecutors reached for the highest form of justification available.

In the Middle Ages, it was religion. In post-Enlightenment Europe it was science: the so called scientific study of race and this is still where we see the most violent forms of antisemitism on the right coming from.

Today’s day and age has given us the emergence of a new antisemitism from the far left, where the politics of inclusion are perniciously inverted to intentionally exclude Jews.

The noted academic and current US Special Envoy for Countering Antisemitism, Deborah Lipstadt said in her book “Denial: Holocaust History on Trial” that “in an Internet age it is, at first glance, democratic to say that everyone is entitled to their own opinion. That is surely true. It is however a fatal step to then claim that all opinions are equal. Some opinions are backed by fact. Others are not. And those which are not backed by fact are worth considerably less than those which are.”

On campus it’s probably fair to say that I work at one of the coal fires of antisemitism. In the past few years, at Queen’s, we’ve seen white-supremacist graffiti including swastikas daubed on campus and also repeatedly seen groups on campus wade into middle eastern politics in ways that clearly cross the line into antisemitism.

But while Antisemitism is coming at us from both the extreme right and left, it is that from the extreme left which is routinely excused, ignored and justified by those who claim to value equity. And this seems to happen time and time again… especially on campus.

Now it’s always important for me to note that we are lucky at Queen’s. But for a few rare though particularly egregious examples, compared to some other campuses in Canada and around the world, we have it pretty good, most of the time.

Of course the real reason that antisemitism, in particular, on campus concerns us so greatly is because we generally understand campus to be a microcosm of wider society. A university is meant to be a true melting pot, bringing the best and brightest together to think deeply, learn and raise the collective consciousness of humanity; where we’re supposed to learn the things we need to create the lives we want for ourselves. The conversations that happen on campus often feel like a litmus test for where society is headed.

And if the best and brightest can’t seem to get a handle of the rampant Jew-hatred that seems to be everywhere right now in the academy… how can we expect the rest of the world to understand it?

What I want to talk about today is how I’m approaching this challenge, as a Hillel professional,,, and maybe this will be helpful in your own thinking as well…

One of the first questions Jewish students ask us when they encounter Hillel is “what is ‘Hillel’? what does the word mean?”. Hillel bears the name of the noted talmudist, Hillel the Elder, who lived approximately 2000 years ago in both Babylon and Eretz Yisrael. Hillel was noted for his maxims and proverbs that still inspire us to this day.

One of his most famous sayings was:

“If I am not for myself, who will be for me?
And if I am only for myself alone, what am I?
And if not now, when?”
― Hillel the Elder

I view this quote, which comes from Pirkei Avot (Ethics of the Ancestors) Chapter 1, as the imperative of our time. Here we have Hillel providing us a blueprint for the continued strength of the Jewish people. A simple roadmap for how we can ensure our continued perseverance in the face of those who would seek to harm us. The whole quote can really be summed up in three principles:

Pride. Accompliceship. Action.

“If I am not for myself, who will be for me?”

Pride.

Rav Kook, the first chief rabbi of mandatory Palestine, used to say “For the Eternal People, it’s never a long journey, and the important thing is not to be afraid!” We are the inheritors of 3500 years of Jewish memory. Our people have faced down hate, discrimination, displacement, expulsion, genocide and so much more. Every single person who is Jewish today, is Jewish either because someone who came before them made the decision to live, or they themselves chose to be Jewish and to live a proud Jewish life. To say no to assimilation. To proclaim “Am Yisrael Chai”!

If we are not the loudest champions of our rights, who can we expect to stand up for us?! The first principle we focus on is the amplification of Jewish pride. Just last week Queen’s Hillel held Jewish Experience Week (JEW) on campus. A campaign all about sharing how incredible the Jewish community is at Queen’s and beyond. These sorts of initiatives are designed to help Jewish students feel more comfortable expressing their Jewishness publicly. One of the results of antisemitism is that we often seek to conceal ourselves and hide ourselves away for protection. I strongly believe that this is the wrong approach. It’s time to turn up the volume on Jewish life… to be loud AND proud about our Jewishness in the public square!

“And if I am only for myself, what am I?”

Accompliceship.

Antisemitism doesn’t exist in a vacuum and those who discriminate against one group rarely limit themselves to that one group.

We need accomplices to work with us to fight antisemitism and we need to partner with others. Relational Advocacy is a model of activism pioneered by The David Project – which eventually morphed into Hillel International’s Israel Action Center, which has now become the Hillel U Center for Community Outreach.

Relational Advocacy empowers student leaders to build mutually beneficial and enduring partnerships with diverse organisations so that the Jewish community is integrated and valued on campus. Much of the decisions made on campuses that affect the Jewish community take place within the democratic structures of student government and due to the current campus climate it is impossible for Jewish advocacy to happen successfully without allies.

When we build broad coalitions with student government, clubs and communities, we are better positioned to respond when the wellbeing of Jewish students is threatened on campus.

Being an ally is considered one of the first steps in equity and social justice work. The term ‘accomplice’ encompasses allyship but goes beyond advocacy. An accomplice uses their privilege to challenge existing conditions at the risk of their own comfort and well-being. This is why we at Hillel cultivate relationships with student leaders on campus who can become both allies and accomplices to the fight against antisemitism.

The same principle applies beyond campus. Living in Kingston I imagine many of us have predominantly non-Jewish social networks. How many of us have actually spoken to our non-Jewish friends about the alarming rise in Antisemitism?

“And if not now, when?”

Action.

And if you haven’t spoken about this issue publicly before… maybe it’s time to?

First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a socialist.
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

Antisemitism has always been a problem, that’s why it’s familiar remember! But it also consistently re-invents itself… the newness!

Now is the time for us to stand up and act. We may think it can’t get much worse but history has shown us time and time again that temporary comfort doesn’t guarantee safety in the long run. It is up to us. We can’t wait. The risk is too great for us not to!

At Rosh Hashanah we have an annual opportunity for new beginnings. It’s a time for growth, reflection and fresh starts.

Our sages teach us that we live in a broken world and this is one reason why Judaism is far more concerned with this world than the next. We don’t know what the world to come will be like but we do know how we experience this one.

The principle of Tikun Olam – healing the world – is one that all of us are obligated to. Each of us doing our own bit to bring the fractured pieces of the world back together to form a new, beautiful mosaic.

May we all merit to experience only good things this year.
May we have the courage to have pride in our identities.
May we have the humility to both know when to ask for help and to show up for others when they need us.
And may we have the strength to persevere, even when the task seems great.

Rabbi Tarfon “You are not expected to complete the task, but neither are you free to avoid it.”
הוּא הָיָה אוֹמֵר, לֹא עָלֶיךָ הַמְּלָאכָה לִגְמֹר, וְלֹא אַתָּה בֶן חוֹרִין לִבָּטֵל מִמֶּנָּה

Wishing you all L’Shana Tova u’Metukah, a happy and sweet new year!

Watch the full congregation livestream here

___

Yos Tarshish
Director, Queen’s Hillel

Weekly D’var: Vayakhel-Pekudei

Weekly D’var: Vayakhel-Pekudei

This week’s double portion is Vayakhel-Pekudei, which concludes the book of Exodus. In these final chapters, the Israelites complete the construction of the Tabernacle, the portable sanctuary that they will use to worship God during their travels in the wilderness. The Israelites bring offerings of gold, silver, and other materials, and skilled craftsmen work diligently to create the Tabernacle, the Ark of the Covenant, and all the other sacred objects that will be used in their worship. One of the striking things about this section of the Torah is the emphasis on the importance of every individual’s contribution. The text describes how all the Israelites, regardless of their social status or wealth, were invited to contribute to the construction of the Tabernacle. Each person gave what they could, and their gifts were combined to create something truly magnificent. This emphasis on the importance of individual contributions is a reminder of the power of community. It is easy to feel overwhelmed by the challenges of the world and to believe that we as individuals cannot make a difference. But when we come together and combine our efforts, we can create something truly incredible. Whether it is a physical structure like the Tabernacle or a social movement or a charity organization, the power of collective action can accomplish amazing things. On a similar note, Hillel plays a vital role in the lives of many Jewish students, providing a community where they can connect with one another, celebrate their traditions, and explore their Jewish identities. Here in Guelph, we recently learned that we will need to find a new Hillel House. We are very optimistic that we will have a new home in the coming school year and, as such, are working hard to raise funds to help transform whatever space we find into a home that will better serve the needs of our community. March 20th begins our “Home is where Hillel is” fundraising campaign. As we reflect on the power of collective action in this week’s parsha, we are emboldened to dream big in reaching out to the wider community to reach our goals. We must also acknowledge our deep gratitude to all who have helped to make our current Hillel House the warm, welcoming, communal space that it has been for us. Let us remember the example of the Israelites in Vayakhel-Pekudei, who came together to build something truly magnificent. May we follow in their footsteps by working together to support and strengthen our communities.

Weekly D’var: Terumah

Weekly D’var: Terumah

This week’s parsha finds the Israelites in the desert being instructed to build the mishkan, along with all of the required gathering of gold, silver, acacia wood… the list goes on. Most of the parsha consists of directions for where things are to go, what they should be made of, and what they will be used for once the work is complete. The plans are meticulous, and the materials to be used spare no expense.

At this point in our story, we’re not so far removed from slavery in Egypt, so it may be an uncomfortable idea that we’re already being given instructions to build things at the behest of a new authority, but the positioning of this parsha is important here. The Isrealites have just finished building the golden calf, and been punished for doing so, but here God clearly sees that they were building something physical because they felt that something was missing. Even after witnessing a miracle, it’s hard to believe in something we can’t see. To build, is a way to “inscribe our faith” on the physical world. The building directions in this week’s parsha, give the people an outlet for their productive energy and a tangible way to express their faith that will ultimately benefit the community. In this way, despite the exacting demands in place for the mishkan, the work brings the community together as a people.

The materials required for the building of the mishkan are unlikely to be found in their desert surroundings, so the community must pool together what they have materially as well as their labour in order to complete this colossal endeavour. Having left Egypt in a hurry and camped out at Sinai waiting for the commandments, the people are no doubt scattered, tired, and feeling the strain of their sudden flight. They’re refugees from a people systematically removed from a shared identity, and they have yet to rediscover the cultural and material wealth that they have as a community. By asking them to pool what few belongings of value they may have as individuals, the building of the mishkan gives not only a tangible representation of their faith, but also of the wealth that they share as a people. It takes an entire people to raise a mishkan.

The golden calf was an empty symbol, it was a literal ‘scapegoat’ for them to relinquish their responsibility and control. It had no purpose aside from to be worshipped and so acted as an idol, the building of which demeaned the people who did so. It has that in common with the building forced on the Israelites as slaves in Egypt, when they weren’t allowed to be a cohesive people, and their work was intended to strip them of any identity they held.

The Mishkan is the opposite; once built it will act as a community hub in and around which people will practise worship as a routine, a habit, and a way of life. The parashah sums up this distinction clearly in Exodus 25:8, when God tells his people “וְעָ֥שׂוּ לִ֖י מִקְדָּ֑שׁ וְשָֽׁכַנְתִּ֖י בְּתוֹכָֽם” a line often translated as “build me a sanctuary and I will dwell among you” but the word “בְּתוֹכָֽם” can equally be translated as within rather than among. I like to read this line as describing how the work of building the mishkan, as a community, will unite the Jewish people and make God a part of each individual as well as a part of the community. The work of the mishkan is distinct from the work done in slavery because it is holy work, elevating work, and the kind of work that brings God among the people.

This distinction between demeaning work and elevating work is one I think about often outside of Torah study, especially with midterms season upon us. I spend a lot of hours studying for exams, and there are certainly days where it feels more like forced labour than work towards a meaningful goal, but it helps me to remember the “why”. For me, that’s the hope of being able to make meaningful change in the world, and understanding the beauty that exists in the structure of the universe on a larger scale, that’s what draws me to physics. It’s not about an exam grade, it’s about my awe at the wonder of what’s out there, and my belief in the communities I work in to find meaning and answers together. At some level, that’s not so different from religious faith, which may explain why there are so many Jewish physicists.

Ultimately, the nature of work and its virtues and detriments comes down to whether it’s in service to meaningful values or dead ends. Parashat Terumah asks us to direct our work so that we can be sure that we’re building a mishkan instead of a golden calf.

Ezri Wyman
Student, Queen’s Hillel

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