Rabbi Michael Strassfeld

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Yom Kippur 2010

Rabbi Michael Strassfeld

I want tocontinue with the themes from my Rosh ha-shana talk about some of the challenges facing us as Jews living in the 21st century.How do we live in an open society? How do we live in a world without ghetto walls? While some Jews reject modernity, this is not the path of liberal Judaism. One way to frame the challenge of modernity is how do we foster the particular (Judaism) while embracing the universal?

The last 300 years of Jewish history have seen a variety of attempts to respond to modernity. For many Jews it meant leaving Judaism behind to embrace this new world. I find it depressing to list all of the important thinkers of modernity who were born Jewish but then basically left the Jewish community. Freud, Marx, Levi-Strauss---imagine what a Judaism could have been like with their contributions. For others it meant rejecting Judaism as a religion while embracing one of the new “isms”of modernity in a Jewishcultural or political way—like socialism in the Bund, nationalism in Zionism, ethnic culturewith Yiddish. With the exception of Zionism, all of those attempts have failed to survive into the 21st century. While there have been a variety of religious responses reflected in their names, reform, conservative, Reconstructionist, renewal,I think, for the most part they have not fully grasped the nature of the challenge they faced. One could argue that Kaplan succeeded the best, in part because he approached these questions from a sociological perspective and therefore was more responsive to the needs of the Jews of his time. He suggested a new theological vision of God that was more in tune with American Jews. He embraced America, appreciating that we live in two civilizations. He stated this not reluctantly but enthusiastically. He looked to America to contribute to Judaism. Thus he viewed with approval the emerging role of women in America and sought to integrate it to Judaism, in his ground-breaking innovation of the first Bat Mitzvah, held in this very synagogue in 1922. Kaplan's vision of a non-supernational version of Judaism that stressed peoplehood, Zionism and culturewhile embracing America and modernity spoke to Jews in his time, so much so that some scholars have argued that most American Jews of the 20th century were Reconstructionists in belief and approach even if they had never heard of the movement.

But while Kaplan was responding to the needs of the Jews in his time, he was not simply affirming what they were doing. He was articulating a vision in response to those needs. What if we look at American Jews today? What are their needs? How are they practicing Judaism?

Toward the end of the 19th century, Isaac Mayer Wise, the leader of the Reform movement coined the term Minhag America. I would like to use that term---Minhag America which literally means the custom of American Jewry to describe the emerging practice of liberal American Jewry. This is a practice shaped not by rabbis or Jewish leaders but by the Jewish people. Here are some examples that apply to virtually all liberal Jews and to their rabbis as well.

Most liberal Jews, even those who observed Kashrut, will eat cooked food in a non-kosher restaurant.Why? In order to be able to eat with non-Jewish friends and in order to enjoy the variety of restaurant options. For the same reason, almost all liberal Jews will drink any wine (provided it is good); disregarding labels indicating the wine is kosher. Lastly, most liberal Jews ignore the laws relating to sexual intimacy, rejecting the notion that sex only belongs in the confines of marriage. This has to do with a different sense of the place of sexuality in a person's life.

While more traditionally minded Jews might not eat seafood or meat in these restaurants or might use kosher wine for Shabbat meals, this does not change the fact that liberal Jews disregard important aspects of the Jewish tradition on a regular basis and are relatively unbothered by doing so. Lest one point out that all my examples have to do with physical pleasure—food, wine, and sex, I would suggest inclusivity as a different kind of example e.g. the role of women and gays/lesbians in Jewish life.

I am using the term Minhag America as a way to describe how Jews practice, balancing the universal values with traditional Jewish values. It is minhag—custom because it is not based on halakha. The Conservative movement's law committee has never written a decision allowing the eating of cooked vegetarian food in restaurants or pre-marital sex. It is why the Conservative movement is struggling with whether to continue to define itself as a halakhic movement or to embrace a different self-definition.

Just as Kaplan proposed a vision for a new Judaism, based on the new realities Jews faced here in America in the 20th Century, we need nothing less. Our time needs more than a description of Minhag America. We need to do more than just accommodate to or embrace American/universal values; we need to promote Jewish values to make Judaism a valued and intrinsic aspect of the lives of Jews.

How do we in our time live in two civilizations---the Jewish and the American or perhaps the Jewish and the global?

On Rosh ha-shana, I described the transition from biblical Judaism to rabbinic Judaism. Let me suggest tonight that, like the radical change from Biblical Judaism to rabbinic Judaism, we may have come to an end of rabbinic Judaism. Back then when the rabbis were formulating rabbinic Judaism they were able to maintain much of the past—most importantly the Torah text. Perhaps that is why the rabbis instituted the weekly public reading of the Torah text—toensure its familiarity to everyone. Yet the rabbis also left major elements behind even as they created whole new categories in Judaism. If we are at asimilar moment, what might be a post-rabbinic Judaism? I posited that a contemporary Judaism would help us live lives enriched with meaning. What would be some new or reconstructed elements in Judaism to help give form and substance to such a vision?

I want to focus on two key aspects of rabbinic Judaism---the system of obligation related to mitzvot and the rabbinic understanding ofprayer. Rabbinic Judaism is based on the notion that the Torah contains 613 mitzvot commanded by God. There are a number of discussions in rabbinic Judaism about the nature of these mitzvot and their observance. Much of the Talmud and subsequent texts relate to the question of how you fulfill a specific mitzvah. Here’s an example. I am supposed to eat matzah. What is a matzah made up of? How much do I eat? When? What is the definition of eating? There are pages and pages on questions like these. One important issue with all the mitzvot is whether you need intention to fulfill the mitzvah. For example, do you need to be thinking about what you are doing when lighting Hanukah candles or eating matzah. The basic answer is while it is better to have intention; you do fulfill the mitzvah even if your mind is elsewhere. Rabbinic Judaism decided that doing the mitzvah/the act was the essential thing—everything else was gravy.
Here is where my first break with rabbinic Judaism comes, where I believe we are post-rabbinic. In the 21st century, I believe that the opposite istrue, that kavana/intention is the essential aspect of Jewish practice. Why? Because Judaism is about life and how we live that life makes all the difference in the world. I can help you grudgingly or open heartedly. I can acquiesce reluctantly or with grace. Doing the right thing from a place of anger leaves me angry and most frequently leaves the other person angry or annoyed as well. Of course, acts make a difference. Money given to tzedakah can make a difference to someone in need no matter how it is given. There is a bottom line. Obviously as well, just having good intentions but not acting on them is pretty meaningless as well. I meant to call you when I heard the news about your brother is just not the same as making that call in a timely way when it is most needed. It is never either/or. But in the balancing of principles, it is time we raised kavana/intention to a more important place. In rabbinic Judaism behaving was more important than believing or belonging. For Reform Judaism, believing was more important than behaving. For Kaplan belonging was more important than behaving or believing. I want to suggest “being” is now the center of our Judaism—that is how to “be” in the world. I want to suggest that “being” will affect behavior not in doing it the "right way" but because “being” in a certain way makes us better people and thus better Jews.

It also frees us from being judgmental about how it was done—he didn't light the Hanukah candles the right way. Maybe the important thing is he seemed to be really into it. Intention leads to action. Intention leads to caring and compassion. It is less likely to lead to rote ritual. The purpose of doing the mitzvah is not the doing but the impact on me and my being as well as those around me. Kavana is not just its narrowest definition—what I was thinking when I performed a mitzvah or recited the liturgy. Kavana is the intentionality of my life. Was I aware or asleep? Did I strive to live up to my best intentions or did I take the easier road? What was my kavana when I told my co-worker about what someone else in the office did? Was my intention to give her useful information or just negative gossip about a co-worker? What was my intention when I complimented my friend on the way she looks? Did I really mean it? Was I just trying to be nice? Was I trying to curry favor? Each of those is a different intention for the same act.

Intention includes larger modes of being such as gratitude. Did I express gratitude to those at home or at the office? Did I feel grateful to the universe for this beautiful day? Judaism has a gratitude practice. It is called reciting blessings/berakhot. It is a good example of how this new understanding of mitzvot and kavana can be practiced. The tradition has a specific formula that is to be recited particularly before we partake of various kinds of food. There are also blessings for certain natural occurrenceslike. lightning or thunder. Yet with any system there are plenty of moments that do not have a prescribed berakha; for example, on hearing birds singing in the morning or feeling cool air after a thunderstorm on a humid day. The intention of the tradition is to encourage us to be grateful. Over time it became specific to saying these words and no other, at these moments and no other. There is even a halakhic concept of saying a blessing in vain that is saying a blessing that is not authorizedwhich is forbidden.

What if instead the traditional blessings were just examples of what saying blessings were all about? What if your day was punctuated by moments of gratitude—sometimes at traditional moments—thanks for this lunch but at untraditional moments as well. Thanks for these clothes that help make me feel good about myself. Thanks for having such a good friend who I can have fun with. I could imagine that each of us might have one or two things that you are particularly grateful for on a regular basis.For example:

What if your practice was to be thankful for each day your arthritis wasn't bad and you recited a blessing of your own composition expressing gratitude to God or the universe or just simply I am grateful this day that my hands can move with ease. Let me use them to better enjoy this day and to lend the world a helping hand even in small ways.

All of which is to ask: how would your life be different if you were more consciously grateful for your blessings even as you struggled with the non-blessings, the disappointments and difficulties of your life?

But what is specifically Jewish about all this? Can't we live a life of intention without calling it kavana nor have a gratitude practice that is devoid of the berakha formula of barukh atah Adonai? Of course we can. Judaism does not have a monopoly on the truth. But let me suggest to you that the High Holidays themselves are a paradigm for living within the context of Judaism. Rosh ha-Shana and Yom Kippur are important holidays in the Jewish year and yet unlike all the other major festivals they do not celebrate a specific moment or event in the history or mythic history of the Jewish people. Rosh ha-shana celebrates the most universal moment—the creation of the world. There is nothing particularistic or Jewish about it. In fact one could argue that the story of creation as recounted in the Torah emphasizes that the creation of the world climaxes with the creation of human beings. Not Jews. Not people of any specific religion. On Rosh ha-shana we celebrate that moment, not the birth of the Jewish people.Rosh ha-Shana and the creation story of Genesis remind us that we are part of the universal condition. We are created and a cosmic moment later we are expelled from the Garden of Eden and become alienated wanderers across this planet. This is the basic metaphor of the human condition—existential aloneness.How do we reconnect to ourselves and to a sense of being connected to rather than being separate from the universe? God asks Eve and Adam ayekha? Where are you?

For some on this planet, they are too hungry to answer. But what about us? Mostly we don't bother answering. We are struggling to get by with the everyday tasks of living. We who live relatively comfortable existences speed up our lives to help escape that question. We can't hear it because we are on our cell phones, we try to be constantly unceasingly connected electronically but discover that much of that connection only exists in cyberspace not within the only hard drive that matters our hearts. Are you here? Are you present? Who answers hineni—here I am when the question of ayekha is finally heard.

And then comes Yom Kippur. If Rosh ha-shana marks the creation of the world; Yom Kippur commemorates no specific event. Why? Because Yom Kippur is the Jewish answer to the question of ayekha? Yom Kippur is the response to the shattering represented by the expulsion from Eden. For all the forbidden apples eaten, for all the promises not kept, for all the hurts we have caused deliberately and even those caused inadvertently just by living in this world, Yom Kippur is a time to reflect and return again "to who you are---to the land of the soul" The particular and the universal are summed up in these holidays. We celebrate creation the most universalist moment. We acknowledge that we are part of the human condition. Yet we do so in a particular Jewish way---the rest of the world is not celebrating the world's birthday party; only we, the Jewish people are invited.We have inherited from the past the Jewish people's response to that human condition. We express gratitude for our lives and then we engage in a process to make those lives better and truer to who we most deeply want to be—caring, compassionate and loving people. We do it with the words, customs, and music developed over centuries by those who came before us. And we continue to evolve with new understandings and new challenges. To keep the tradition alive we understand that newness is as important as maintaining the past. Every tune was new once. Even Kol Nidrei or untaneh tokef were once innovations.

For we are all particular. Each of us is unique—no one who is or who will ever be will be exactly the same as me. And yet I am like everyone who ever was and will be. I am part of the universal set of human beings. Judaism is one attempt among many that understands that the universal and the particular are part of everything. There is no such thing as being only universal or for that matter only particular.

There are times when it is appropriate to emphasize the past and the tradition. Sometimes, and I believe this is such a moment; we need to explore what needs to be changed and innovated. I have been talking about rebalancing between doing and intention to weigh more heavily on the intention or we might say the meaning side. I want to suggest one other area that is very much related to the notion of Judaism focusing on kavana/intention.

As I mentioned on Rosh ha-shana, rabbinic Judaism abandoned sacrifices and the accompanying cult for prayer and synagogues. In a post-rabbinic Judaism of today, I would like to posit that we have come to the end of prayer as a central aspect of Judaism. Let me explain. I am not saying this because there are a significant number of you that don't believe in God though that is a factor in my thinking about this. I am saying this because I think almost all liberal Jews (and a good number of Orthodox Jews) don't believe in a God that answers individual prayers. Even for those Jews who have a more traditional notion of God than Kaplan did, I don't think believe that if they pray hard or often enough that God will sometimes say yes. Like the notion of God rewarding and punishing individuals, the notion that God says yes even occasionally to me when I pray for a loved one who is sick contradicts my understanding of reality.