FOR WHOM THE SHOFAR TOLLS
No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each 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 if a manor of thine own
Or of thine friend's were.
Each man's death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.[1]
Entire of itself.
Each 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 if a manor of thine own
Or of thine friend's were.
Each man's death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.[1]
As we gather
together to celebrate the New Year and prepare ourselves for the awe-filled day
of Yom Kippur, we reflect on our personal journeys for this past year. We may not use a bell, but our shofar blast
reminds us to use these next ten days to ask forgiveness from those we have
wronged, to take stock of the ways we have missed the mark, and to plot a new
path forward – we continue the important struggle to improve upon the vessel of
humanity that we each one of us calls “me.”
However, leaving our reflection at
this personal, individual level renders us incomplete for the year to
come. As John Donne’s 17th
century poem reminds us, no person is an island, unless of course you’re Paul
Simon. And while the work on the self is
very important, failing to simultaneously place ourselves in the greater
context of our society can lead us to being just as impenetrable and obtuse as
a rock. We are moved by our cultural milieu, the events and happenings of our
world shape our lives and often demand a response from us.
It is incredible how much has
happened in our world since the last time we gathered together to celebrate a
new year. So, I invite you to journey with me a bit – I’ve put together a quick
scan of 5772 – on the local, national, and international levels to help us to link
our personal reflections to our society, as a whole.
Not long after our High Holy Days last year, in October, we
learned of the improbable return of Gilad Shalit, Israeli hostage, to his
parents after more than 5 years of uncertainty as to whether or not he was
still alive. The Israeli government
released over 1,000 Palestinian prisoners who were captured for a wide range of
offenses, including terrorist activity that killed Israeli citizens. Due to the
perseverance of international advocacy, hope, and the Jewish value of pikuach nefesh, preserving life; conditions
arose that allowed Mr. Shalit to come home be sent on a new assignment – one that
brought him to Miami this past winter to observe and report on the NBA Finals
for an Israeli newspaper.
In November we witnessed the tragic crumbling of the legacy
of Joe Paterno, now infamous former
football coach of the Penn State Nittany Lions, whose loyalty to a football
program prompted him and others in positions of power to stand idly by,
enabling numerous youths to be victimized.
Then came December.
After 8 ½ years, there was war no more in Iraq.
Meanwhile, locally, the Town of Cary worked with members of the
Jewish community – some of whom are here with us today – to host a community
Chanukah festival. The gathering of
thousands gave each of us in attendance a renewed sense of acceptance here in
our area and pride in our local Jewish community.
If we fast-forward to February, news broke of the row that
was caused when the Susan G. Komen foundation for breast cancer research
announced it would cut funds for the Planned Parenthood organization. This news sparked such an outrage by many
supporters of the philanthropy that the foundation reversed its course.
Also, we learned that members of the Mormon Church had posthumously
baptized prominent Jewish figures, such as Anne Frank and Jewish journalist
Daniel Pearl. The church responded to outrage with a declaration that it would eliminate
“unauthorized” baptisms.
Then in March we heard of the tragic shooting at a Jewish
school in Toulouse, France, which left four people dead, including the school’s
rabbi and his two children. This incident
as well as a rash of shootings in Toulouse in the days prior all targeted
minorities, occurring in the midst of a flare up of nationalistic political
rhetoric in the midst of a campaign season in France. [2] Unfortunately, later in the summer we saw a
similar prejudicial shooting closer to home as a gunman opened fire in a Sikh
Temple in Wisconsin.
Fortunately, April gave us another reason to join together
and strengthen the bonds of our community in an incredible gala, celebrating 100
years of Temple Beth Or. We honored our
Jewish vaule of l’dor va-dor – from
generation to generation. What an
uplifting evening!
May followed, bringing a key statewide election in which Amendment
One was approved, narrowly defining marriage between one man and one woman as
the only legal domestic union recognized by the state. We’ll revisit this a little later.
Then, this past July, we could not help being lifted up by Jewish
gymnast, Aly Rasiman, earning a gold medal for her gymnastics floor routine performed
to the song, Hava Nagilah. While Aly twirled with grace, we proudly
witnessed international crowds raucously clapping to OUR melody, the one we embrace
in most of our own cultural celebrations.
Her victorious display of pride in her heritage was rendered that much
sweeter in the backdrop of the International Olympic Committee’s decision not
to publicly honor the Israeli victims of a terrorist attack at the Olympics 40
years prior.
Overall, we know that our economy is not as strong as we’d
like it to be and the political rhetoric a bit too strong. We’ve seen an upswing in liberty across much
of the Middle East, but it has come with a cost of violence. Whether or not freedom truly will ring
remains a chapter yet to be written.
I’m sure that I left out a few events here and there – I don’t
want to keep us here until Yom Kippur. But
it has been quite a year. We look at
these stories – reasons to celebrate, juxtaposed with those events that have invoked
moral outrage. These are our stories – the legacy of the time in which we
are living.
As we reflect
on these stories, an interesting trend emerges.
In a number of these chronicled events, we have seen the impact of individuals
coming together to take a stand. Whether
collective action took as long as the captivity of Gilad Shalit or the couple
of days that it took for the Susan G. Komen Foundation to reassess their
decisions, people all across our society, just like you and me, stood up for their
values and shaped the threads of our societal stories. Rather than passively
allowing the status quo to mold us into an acceptance of a new reality – one
that in some cases may have run counter to our own values – some refused to malleably
contort and instead pushed back, creating a new outcome.
When we look at the ways that these events
in our world have unfolded, we cannot help but see that we have a
responsibility to our world. Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel taught that, we each
have to make a decision: We cannot remain in a vacuum – unless we proactively
shine the light of our values onto the world, it is invaded by darkness. Our tradition constantly urges us to look
after those who are most vulnerable in our society – the orphan, the widow, the
poor. Look around - there are too many
who are vulnerable all around us – those whose ability to fully participate in
our society are threatened, because of economics, because of sexual
orientation, because of gender or race or religion. Though Rabbi Heschel was a
leading figure in the ‘60s, during the civil rights movement in our country,
make no mistake – the need to stand up for human rights is just as real today
in order to protect the rights we have – the rights of women, the rights of the
poor and disadvantaged, the rights of religious minorities everywhere including
those of Jews. Rabbi Heschel’s words still
ring true for us today: “This is no time for neutrality. [As Jews, we] cannot
remain aloof or indifferent.”[3] We have to care.
We must become moved movers. We must allow our visceral reactions to the
opportunities and injustices we see around us to bubble inside and stir our kishkes, just as the prophet Jeremiah
did. Even when he tried not to share his
prophetic words on how society should change, they burned like fire in his
belly until he let them out for all to hear.
Of all times of the year, this is the time to let our passions ignite. Elie
Wiesel has taught – “The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.
The opposite of beauty is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of
faith is not heresy, it's indifference.[4] To
create a society of beauty and love, we cannot throw our hands in the air in
defeat at the paralyzingly large stories that come at us in the news every
day. We have a responsibility to care,
to act.
Here at TBO, our social
action committee is dedicated to continuing to shape the world around us in
5773. Starting now, we can do our part
to curb hunger around us, locally, by filling the bags at your seats with food
and returning them by Yom Kippur. During
Sukkot (the first week of October), we will be working with the Raleigh Tribe
to build a Sukkah at Moore Square. We will even have a
Jewish Fall Festival Shabbat service downtown in our Sukkah – October 5th. And all that week, we need your help in going
downtown to feed those in need, upholding the one of the ideals of the holiday –
distributing our bounty to the hungry.
At the end of October, we will be
ramping up our annual Mitzvah Day with ways for folks of all ages to pray with
our feet for the day, addressing some of the needs that surround us. We hope that everyone in our congregation
will come and help shape our local community.
By the end of the High Holy Days, a signup sheet with all the various
projects will be available on the TBO website. Our hope is that these projects
will just be the start of a year of shaping the world around us, as our social
action committee is committed to responding from our Jewish values on other
important social issues from human trafficking to immigration to healthy eating
to a social action trip to Guatemala.
I know that yesterday, Rabbi Dinner
spoke of the importance of Shabbat, of resting.
Now, here I am, saying, “Take action.”
It’s confusing. But as Rabbi
Dinner said last night in the name of Rabbi Heschel, Shabbat is not for the
rest of the week, but rather the rest of the week is for Shabbat. When Shabbat is merely a respite, a chance to
escape the rigors of our world that we wish to not think about, Shabbat becomes
a tool for the rest of the week. The
true restorative power of Shabbat rest does not come from a George Costanzan
“SERENITY NOW!” Instead, when we use
our week to reach beyond ourselves, to impact our society and our community,
then our week serves Shabbat. The peace
we earn is one of wholeness, pride in the participation of creation – this kind
of rest is saturated with meaning and contentment, allowing us to more easily
find that which is tov, which is good
in our world, despite all its flaws.
It is important to keep
in mind that not all of our efforts will fully shape the world as we hope it to
be. This past year, our community
stepped forward to fight intolerance and injustice, as Temple Beth Or took a
stand opposing the Amendment One that constitutionally limited the rights of a
minority group based on the vote of a majority. Could we have done more? Always.
Did we win the day?
Unfortunately, we did not. But
this is what it means to walk our values, or as Rabbi Heschel would say, to
pray with our feet. We lifted our
prayers of caring for those who are vulnerable in our society, and put them
into action. At this time of reflection
and renewal, we can look back not with regret, but rather with the peace that
comes from knowing that we stood true to our Reform Jewish values. We must balance our vigor to shape our world with the
perspective and patience that Rabbi Tarfon teaches in the Talmud, Lo Alecha Hamlacha Ligmor - It is not
our job to complete the task, nor is it our job to desist from it.[5] Let us not get
bogged down in the struggle and what was lost – rather, let us recapture the
momentum of our passion from this past year and refocus it where we can
continue to make a difference.
Therefore, let us use these High Holy Days to revisit the
various events of this past year – to allow ourselves to be moved by what has
happened around us. Some moments may
have been uplifting times of connection that brought us meaning, that we may
wish to recapture in the year to come.
Others may have aroused in us a moral indignation that we cannot easily
hold inside. On Yom Kippur, we will
stand side-by-side with our family and friends, our community, declaring –
ASHAMNU, BAGADNU – WE have sinned, We have transgressed – not I, WE. Our prayers demand that we tie our fate to
one another and that we work to pull ourselves and one another out of the
pitfalls of our year.
As we strive to learn from the year that has passed and make
this next year even better, may we each remember that the work we do on the
self is only complete when it allows us to become shapers of our world. By taking action in our world, we too are
moved. This cycle will allow us to create
the space for rest, for Shabbat, and an appreciation for what will be tov within 5773. Returning to my opening poem, with apologies
to John Donne and any poetic structuralists who may be here today, a modified
version might offer guidance in how to make 5773 a Shanah Tovah:
Remember – no person is
an island,
Complete in oneself.
Each is a piece of our
society,
A part of the main.
When one of us is swept
under the sea of injustice,
We are all less.
Just as if an entire
race or gender were dehumanized.
As well as if the house
I own
Or that of my friend’s
were lost to the perils of our economy.
Each person’s needless
suffering diminishes me.
For I am involved in
humankind.
Therefore, send not to
know
For whom the shofar
calls.
It calls for thee.
Rosh Hashanah Sermon 5773 by Rabbi Ari Margolis, delivered at Temple Beth Or - please email rabbimargolis@gmail.com if you wish to cite material
[1]
John Donne, 17th Century English Poet. “Meditation XVII,” from Devotions upon Emergent Occasions, 1623
[2]
http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2012/mar/19/toulouse-shootings-race-religion-murder-france
[3]
Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, “No Time for Neutrality” in Moral Grandeur and Spiritual Audacity: Essays. New York: Farrar,
Straus and Giroux, 1996. p. 75
[5]
Pirkei Avot 2:21
