5770 Yom Kippur Sermon
by Faith Schuster
Good morning and good yontif.
One of the things that made me want to speak to you on this holy day was an article I saw a while ago in the New York Times announcing a new entry in the American Doll collection, an 18-inch doll named Rebecca Rubin, advertised as a Jewish-American doll. The question that immediately came to my mind was –“What makes the doll Jewish?” What distinctive visual characteristics constitute a Jewish girl’s appearance? Aside from Jewish accessories that one could buy along with the doll (a Shabbat set and a Chanukah menorah), there was nothing that made the doll obviously “Jewish,” which started me thinking about what it is that makes up a unique Jewish identity. Obviously (to me, at least) it is not recognizable physical appearance, since Jews come in all shapes and sizes and colors.
I think that our Jewish identity rests on our Jewish heritage, traditions, customs. Jewish identity develops in a Jewish home with a mezuzah on the door, candle-lighting on Shabbat, family celebrations of holidays, matzah and challah, fasting and feasting, and so on. But this more or less private Jewish identity in the home is only the beginning. I believe Jewish identity develops and strengthens in community. I believe that going to shul and being a part of a Jewish congregation is what makes us “feel Jewish,” even if we don’t necessarily “look Jewish” (whatever that means). I certainly know that we can be Jewish without belonging to a synagogue, but I also know that my own Jewish life and identity has been enriched by participating in a Jewish community…by going to shul!
To let you know I’m not the only one who thinks that, I’d like to share with you some words from an article titled “On Going to Synagogue,” by Dr. George Goodman, from the May Commentary magazine, Dr. Goodman writes that he did not attend synagogue for almost forty years, from the time he identified himself as “a free-thinking adolescent” until his mid-fifties when he lost his father and realized he was missing something. “Overwhelmed by memories of my late father,” Dr. Goodman wrote, “I rediscovered the place that tangibly linked me to him—the synagogue. Now I attend services because, whether or not I believe in God, I believe in Judaism. I believe in Judaism with absolute and unshakable conviction, and in the importance of bearing witness to this religion, to its rituals and to the people who keep faith with it.”
He goes on to say that he does not attend services expecting to be entertained, distracted, or calmed, nor to have an instant meaningful experience. He says that he holds high expectations of himself when he is at services, not of the rabbi or the liturgy. He doesn’t expect the synagogue services to change to meet his individual needs; rather, he attends services because he has changed and he finds meaning in the familiarity of the liturgy and the ritual, and especially of what he calls “the prayers in our music that have been the prayers in our music for thousands of years.”
He is not looking for something new and catchy in services; instead, he says, “the liturgy, ritual, and music gave me a path back to Judaism.” He comments on how user-friendly the siddur is, with its transliterations and translations of the Hebrew, and he says that “we learn to sing and pray in Hebrew the same way we learn to do everything else—by trial and error and many repetitions. Practice does not make perfect but it makes it better.”
For me, it is the “prayers in music” that I hear in the shul that make me feel Jewish. I know I could read the prayer book at home and I could recite the prayers alone, but my identity as a Jew comes alive in the synagogue, singing the prayers with the congregation, however out-of-tune and off-key my voice is (and those of you who sit near me know just how off-key that is!) Like Dr. Goodman, I may be skeptical about God and my faith may waver at times, but going to shul and being a part of a congregation reinforces and strengthens my identity as a Jew.
I attend services not just for myself, but also because I want the children in our community to see me, an adult, attending services (without being forced to!)—because I want them to grow up and have children who will see them attending services. I attend services because I want to be with other Jews here and now, and also because I want to believe that there will be people attending services long after I am gone. Being a member of a synagogue allows me to feel like a part of a long line that remembers and honors those who came before. Being a member also helps me to believe that the line will continue into the future and that our successors will remember us as we remember those who came before us.
Two weeks ago we read Nitzavim, a portion from Deuteronomy (29:9-14) which was also the Torah reading today, in which Moses tells the Israelites:
You stand this day, all of you, before the Eternal your God—you tribal heads, you elders, and you officials, all the men of Israel, you children, you women, even the stranger within your camp, from woodchopper to water drawer—to enter into the covenant of the Eternal your God, which the Eternal your God is concluding with you this day…not with you alone, but both with those who are standing here with us this day…and with those who are not with us here this day.
These are words of inclusiveness and community. They refer to every member of our community regardless of age, gender, or station in life, even including generations past and the countless generations yet to come. Judaism’s promise of inclusion draws us into the arms of our community.
In this portion, Moses tells Joshua and the people to “be strong and resolute.” Knowing that we are a part of a community, something larger than ourselves, helps us to be strong and resolute as we journey through life. I read an article from The New Jersey Jewish News of September 23rd which reported that, in a recent survey of American religious affiliation, the fastest-growing group consists of people who describe themselves as having no affiliation or being atheist, agnostic, or “secular.” The article goes on to say “This data correlates with the troubling decline in Jewish organizational affiliation and synagogue attendance…the general secularization of society makes it easy and attractive to drift away from organized religion. That’s the reality and challenge of American-Jewish life.
The Jewish people have always included believers, skeptics, mystics and rationalists, do-ers and watchers … yet in previous eras there was a greater sense of peoplehood … that bonded Jews and their institutions.” If you care about the Jewish people and institutions, whether you are an atheist, an agnostic, or secular, the article goes on to say, “there is a place for you in Judaism, believe it or not.”
There’s a page on the BAJC website that asks two questions:
“Why become a member?” and “What is the right time to join?” If
I haven’t already answered those questions, let me quote from the
website: The answer to the first question, in part, is: “If you want
to have a synagogue and a congregation available at a moment
when you need it, then you will want to support it with your
membership so it will be there for you.” And the short answer to
the second question is: “It is always the right time to belong!"
There are many reasons to become a member of a synagogue. I
think that members find fulfillment and pleasure through
participating in community events. We find connections to our
heritage through the times we spend together. Membership fosters lasting friendships, stimulating learning, meaningful worship, and
the peace that comes with finding a spiritual home.
And, since we’re here in Brattleboro, where we like to “think
globally and act locally,” membership provides a way of actively
supporting Jewish continuity in the world, not just here in southern
Vermont.
Hillel, a first-century Jewish sage, said “Do not separate yourself
from the community…” I hope those of you who are members will
continue to be a part of our Jewish community, and I hope those of
you who are not yet members will be inspired to join a Jewish
congregation soon.
I’ll close with a sonnet by Dan Nichols and Rabbi Michael
Moskowitz, called “Kehilah Kedoshah” (translation: Holy
Community)
Each one of us must play a part
Each one of us must heed the call
Each one of us must seek the truth
Each one of us is a part of it all.
Each one of us must remember the pain
Each one of us must find the joy…
Each one of us must start to hear
Each one of us must sing the song
Each one of us must do the work
Each one of us must right the wrong
Each one of us must build the home
Each one of us must hold the hope…
It’s how we help, it’s how we give
It’s how we pray, it’s how we heal, it’s how we live.
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