Coming Home

Yom Kippur Morning Sermon

October 6, 2003

Rabbi Anthony D. Holz

As I mentioned last night, there is value in exploring our ongoing connection with Israel. Yesterday I touched on our emotional ties, our hopes and fears regarding the Jewish state and its current difficulties, and the necessity of our having a larger perspective. This morning our focus shifts.

Part of the reason why we Jews have an ongoing emotional connection with the land of Israel, is because we have family and friends there, and their welfare is of ongoing concern to us. But at least a good part of the reason why the land fascinates us is symbolic.  Let me explain.

The themes of exile and redemption are very much part of our Jewish consciousness. So, for instance, the great Jewish holiday of Passover retains its hold over our Jewish attention and affections not so much because it tells the history of our ancestors then and there; rather, it excites our affection because it deals symbolically with the journey to freedom which each one of us undertakes throughout our lives, a journey which clearly has not yet reached a Messianic conclusion.

Now we know that the Zionists among us have clearly understood the phrase “Next year in Jerusalem” to mean a wish that next year we should all be in the physical city that is located in the Judean hills.

But a very traditional and alternative religious perspective is that the phrase expresses a wish that next year every one of us should be in the spiritual or ideal Jerusalem, that heavenly place where we are free of all our limitations. In the long history of our people, there clearly is both a Jewish national and a Jewish religious perspective, a physical and a spiritual dimension to the great saga of exile and redemption.

In truth, the Jewish community has long recognized two varieties of exile: physical exile from the land, and spiritual exile from our own authentic selves.  Every person has a sense of who he or she is. As a result, for us to falsely claim beliefs and values as our own, to give lip service to what we do not really think and feel, to have to constantly pretend, to live a lie is profoundly disturbing for any individual.

The biblical Genesis narrative tells us that Adam (or human kind) had to leave the Garden of Eden (or pleasure, in the Hebrew) as a result of acquiring knowledge.  In the process of our growing up and living in the modern world, each one of us learns new perspectives, fresh ways of looking at the world, perspectives which for many of us undermine long-held views and opinions, and too frequently rob our lives of pleasure. This existential or spiritual exile is at least as painful for us as if we had become exiled from our physical homeland.

Yet, with the love and care of supporting family and friends, in a Jewish community which accepts us in our individuality, it is possible for each one of us to find acceptance and a sense of real worth, and with it a renewed pleasure in our lives.

To be able to live one’s life with an inner feeling of balance and wholeness is an achievement beyond price. And a religious community or congregation that helps individuals bring such order to personal chaos, such meaning to painful confusion, has real value.

It follows that in a world where we are all fallible, communities need to be very careful not to impose but to welcome, not to make unfair demands but to affirm. For a community to ask individuals to pretend to beliefs and values which are not their own, helps no one.

So, for instance, when a Jewish person marries someone who is not Jewish, it is a great mistake to insist that the non-Jewish partner must convert. That is why as a rabbi I will provide a Jewish marriage for a couple where only one partner is Jewish. Conversion is a highly personal decision which should never be made under pressure.

Sadly, however, not everyone in the Jewish community sees things this way. Nurturing individuals and helping people live their own Jewish lives as individuals and as families are not always priorities in the larger Charleston Jewish world.  When children of the members of Kahal Kadosh Beth Elohim attend any of the other Jewish schools in town, the Jewishness of our children is  too often questioned. Leaders of other Charleston synagogues do not accept our converts as Jews; and if Jewish men marry such converts or women who are not Jewish, the other synagogues refuse to accept their children as Jews, even if they have been raised as Jews and lived their lives as involved, committed members of the Jewish community.  This questioning of who we are may evoke a variety of emotions from mild irritation to severe distress.

By and large, it is fairly clear that Orthodox and Conservative Jewish leaders reject our conversions, question our marriages and in general view Reform Judaism as the next step for Jews who are in the process of becoming Christian. And yet, whenever Orthodox or Conservative Jews falls in love with someone from outside of the Jewish community, they inevitably turn to a synagogue such as KKBE to provide a wedding and help meet their needs. And, when traditional Jews wish to be cremated rather than buried, again only Reform Judaism can provide this service. There would seem to be a sizable gap between what the official leaders often say and what the people do. This is surely not a constructive tendency.

In a free society when no one has to be a member of a religious community, does it not seem counter-productive for leaders to push members away and to ask those who remain to pretend to be who they are not? Should any part of the Jewish community ask fellow members to deny who they are and to live in spiritual exile? Is it surprising then that many Jews simply decide to leave and that the latest census shows evidence of Jewish decline?

Other problematic areas which much of the Jewish community ignores at its peril are ongoing restrictions regarding the role and involvement of women, and the denial if not outright rejection, of individuals and couples who are gay or lesbian.

As an example of the life-affirming role that a congregation can play in the lives of individuals and families, let me read to you some thoughts expressed by Rabbi Amy Bernstein, the current rabbi of my previous congregation, Temple Israel in Duluth, Minnesota.  Rabbi Bernstein, who is lesbian and lives openly with her partner, is expecting her first baby.  In the Temple Israel congregational bulletin that I received on Friday, she writes: 

          “It is difficult to believe that the month of my delivery is already here.  Even though I’ve had nine months to prepare for the coming of a child, the changes that will mean in my personal and family life, and all of the coverage issues related to my maternity leave, I somehow still can’t quite grasp that it’s here.  I cannot begin to tell all of you how much your love and support has meant to me throughout this pregnancy.  Your care and concern, your loving scolding of me when you thought I was doing too much, your acceptance and celebration of our ‘alternative family’ all indicate your integrity and readiness to live your liberal Jewish values in ways that have made this the most meaningful experience of my life.  I feel so blessed that we will continue to share our joy with you as, with God’s help, we welcome our daughter to the world.  I am scheduled for surgery on October 14^th at 7:30 a.m. and ask that you send your prayers and healing energy our way that morning.  We really do believe that thought, prayer, and intention is energy, and that energy brings with it real potential for healing.  We are counting on you to welcome our child into the Jewish people at a baby naming service that we are planning for November 23^rd, the Sunday before Thanksgiving…I go into this delivery confident of your good wishes and grateful beyond measure for all of them.  You have performed the sacred task of walking me through so much loss—I’m honored to have you walking beside me now through this truly awesome and holy time of becoming a mother.  My family is blessed to be part of this community and we feel so lucky to have you as our extended family.  May this year be filled with joyous beginnings for us all and may it be the beginning of a time of peace for all the peoples of this earth.”

As the rabbi of Kahal Kadosh Beth Elohim, I do not claim that we in this congregation or in any other congregation are perfect or that we know all the answers. But, as liberal Jews, we deny that Judaism is a “One size fits all” religion.  Recognizing the complexity that this involves, we affirm personal authenticity and the rights of every Jewish person to come home, and we seek a larger community where all can leave behind them the restrictions, intolerance and bigotry of the outside world and know that they have a legitimate and welcomed place.

On Passover we wish each other “Next year in Jerusalem.” On Yom Kippur, as we seek to return to true and authentic ways, we work at reclaiming our spiritual patrimony, that ideal Jerusalem where no one has to pretend and everyone finds meaning and wholeness.

Ours is a very imperfect world. But ours is not a world without hope. Whether we are talking about the physical land of Israel, or the spiritual community of Israel, “If you will it, it is no dream.” If we wish for a more tolerant and peaceful world, and are willing to put in the time and effort, we will achieve this, no matter the obstacles. On this Day of Atonement at the beginning of a new Jewish year, let this be our choice and our greatest aspiration. May the house of Israel, whether in the land of Israel or in the congregations that make up spiritual Israel, may we all move into a better, more accepting, more personally fulfilling and more peaceful world. Amen.