SERMON

SEDRA VAYESHEV, GEN. 37:1-40:23

HAFTARAH AMOS 2:6-3:8

23 DECEMBER 2005 - 22 KISLEV 5766

“SOCIAL ACTION”

Every week of the Jewish year our tradition designates a section of the Torah that we are supposed to read that week. That section, called either a parashah or a sedra, is read in the same sequence year after year, so that we read the entire Five Books of Moses over the course of each year. In Jewish congregations where the Torah is read on Shabbat, it is always the sedra that is read or chanted. And every sedra has an additional passage connected to it, either from one of the books of the Former or Latter Prophets or from another book of the Bible outside the first five books.  

This week, for example, the sedra is called “Vayeshev,” and it comes from the Book of Genesis, Chapter 37, where the narrative of the Torah turns its attention to the story of Joseph, the son of Isaac. The additional passage, (called Haftarah, meaning “additional,”) for this week is taken from the Book of Amos, one of the Israelite prophets.  

The Torah commentary we use here at Temple Israel was written by one of the great Jewish scholars of the 20^th century, Rabbi Gunther Plaut. At the beginning of each haftarah passage, Plaut offers a little context so that the reader can understand the intended connection between the Torah portion and the haftarah. “The origin of the custom of reading a portion of the prophets after the Torah reading is unknown. The most plausible suggestion (dating from not earlier than the 14^th century) is that the custom was instituted during the persecutions by Antiochus Epiphanes which preceded the Hasmonean revolt. According to this theory, when the reading of the Torah was proscribed, a substitute was found by reading a corresponding portion from the Prophets; and the custom was retained after the decree was repealed.”¹  

For this week’s haftarah Plaut writes: “Amos was a Judean shepherd and tree farmer who lived in the eighth century B.C.E. and was the first of our literary prophets. His strong emphasis on social concerns made him a favorite of the Reform movement, which saw its own social impulse as a re-creation of Amos’ spirit.  

Amos castigates his contemporaries for their exploitation of the poor, for their ruthless pursuit of monetary gain. This denunciation provides a ready parallel to the sedra which tells the story of Joseph who was sold by his brothers for twenty pieces of silver.”²  

One of the most significant differences between Reform and Orthodox Judaism is the Reform Movement’s focus and emphasis on social justice and social action. Where Orthodoxy tends to focus its energy and concerns on living a life of mitzvah, the focus of Orthodoxy is usually on ritual observance and adherence to Jewish law. For Reform Jews, whose connection to Jewish law and ritual practice was minimized early on, the focus in a life of mitzvah turned to ways in which to bring Jewish tradition to bear in terms of making the world a better place in which to live, not only for individual Jews and the Jewish community, but for everyone else as well. Thus the concept of “enlightened self-interest” was born: if things improve for everyone, the thinking goes, then they will certainly improve for Jews as well, since we are part of “everyone.”  

This kind of typical Reform thinking could not have been exemplified better than it was last month. While 18 of us from Temple Israel were traipsing around Israel and Jordan for two weeks last month, almost 5000 other Reform Jews were in Houston , Texas , attending the Union for Reform Judaism’s Biennial Convention. In the time since that convention, word has gotten around about some of the resolutions passed by the delegates there. In particular, one resolution has received national attention and has generated considerable controversy. That resolution addressed the issues of the ongoing war in Iraq , support for American troops, the Bush Administration’s strategy for prosecuting a successful conclusion of the war, and the Administration’s thoughts on the beginning of the withdrawal of our troops from the war and the region.  

That a vast majority of the more than 2000 eligible voters at the convention overwhelmingly passed the resolution might seem to be important. But its importance has been overshadowed by those who disagreed vocally and visibly with the vote that was taken, especially by the Republican Jewish Coalition, an organization that recently took out a full-page ad in the New York Times to disagree publicly with the convention’s vote. Among the people who expressed their disappointment that the Union for Reform Judaism would pass such a resolution were those who declared that the Union should concern itself with religious matters, not with political matters.

 That expression of disappointment says a great deal more about the ones expressing it than about the issues under discussion. It suggests that they are unaware of the history of the Reform Movement, going back to before the beginning of the 20^th century. From its beginning in Germany and Ukraine, the Reform Movement has differentiated itself from the rest of organized Judaism by its outspoken expression of what it calls “prophetic Judaism,” tracing those roots all the way back to the very prophet Amos whose words comprise the haftarah we read this very week.  

One of the earliest and most famous of the early German Reform rabbis, Abraham Geiger, was arguably the first to use the term “prophetic Judaism” when talking about the new direction he thought Judaism should take at his time in history. "What [Abraham] Geiger preached from the pulpit and attempted to draw from all of [Judaism’]s classical texts was what he called "Prophetic Judaism." The message of Israel 's ancient Prophets, universalized beyond its original context, became for Geiger, as for the Reform movement, the most viable and important component of Judaism. The Prophets' concern for the poor and downtrodden, their contempt for ritual acts unaccompanied by social morality, and their vision of peace for all humanity -- these made Amos, Isaiah, Micah, and the others both timeless and contemporary. Their ideals and the faiths in the one God as their source, Geiger argued in his first Breslau sermon, were the eternal elements in Judaism. The vicissitudes of modern life could not shatter them. Customs and ceremonies would change: Israel itself in its external form would change. But the divine imperative to sanctify life would remain -- and so too, therefore, as a community of faith, would Israel ." (pp 95-96).³  

The reason I am telling you all of this is much simpler than anything else I have said so far tonight. From time I speak about issues of social justice from this pulpit. Usually the issues are relatively clear-cut for me, whether it be about public education, women’s rights, Israeli issues, gay or lesbian rights, the environment, whatever the topic du jour happens to be. In particular, this year I chose one of the most sacred days of the year, Yom Kippur morning, to speak out on something I considered important enough that I was willing to use that precious time to talk about something other than religion.  

Many people in the congregation expressed their thanks for my speaking out on something they thought was important enough to be addressed from the pulpit. But others expressed their disappointment that I would “talk politics” on such a spiritual day as Yom Kippur. The expression of gratitude was very welcome, since I always hesitate to speak about politics from the pulpit unless I think I absolutely must do so. And the expression of disappointment always makes me sad and uncomfortable, since I do not usually set out to upset or disappoint those who sit in our pews.  

I remember agonizing about that particular sermon because I wanted to be sure that those who heard it understood why and how it was a more Jewish sermon than many I had delivered, since it was clearly tied to the haftarah for Yom Kippur morning in ways that many sermons could not be. I remember how excited I was when I read Isaiah’s words castigating Jewish worshippers who complained that God didn’t seem to be responding to their prayers, saying that their prayers were not serious, their behavior was hypocritical, and their expectations were unrealistic. I compared Isaiah’s words to those of people I had heard who thought that if they went through the motions, that would be enough.  

The early Reform rabbis said the same thing, as does Amos in this week’s sedra. In a nutshell, Amos says that you can say all the right words, but if your actions do not speak both correctly and the same way your words speak, then you can expect not only to be disappointed by a lack of response from God, but worse.  

For me these words from the most passionate of our prophets carry a simple, straightforward message: one must not sit idly by when injustice is present, and one must base one’s actions on the words of our Torah. The words of our Torah are understood to be the words of God, and they are not to be taken lightly or ignored.

Reform Judaism made a critical break with Jewish tradition when it focused on social justice and social action as the living out of our prophetic tradition. Not once in the history of the Reform movement have we backtracked on that philosophy. Not once have we so much as even suggested that speaking out for social justice, especially from our pulpits, was anything other than a religious mandate.  

That is one of the reasons that those of us who attend Union biennials, whether regional or national, have come to expect our movement to be outspoken on political issues, and always from a place of solid progressive Jewish values. That is what the movement has always stood for, and it seems that it will continue to do so into the future. That is also one of the main reasons that I have been so proud to be a Reform Jew and a Reform rabbi. While other denominations of Judaism have either been silent or worse on contemporary issues, our movement has consistently struggled with issues such as the death penalty, stem cell research, the right to die, same-sex marriage, and so on, and it has consistently come down on the side that is honestly compassionate, pragmatic, moral, and humane. We have studied issues for years at a time, always in the context of both ancient and modern Jewish values, always applying our tradition’s values to the discussions we have, but never being held back simply because something was a tradition.  

To imagine that a Reform rabbi would not speak out about contemporary social issues from the pulpit would be to imagine a dereliction of duty to the Jewish community. While I want to say things from this pulpit that will bring comfort to the afflicted and hope to those who need it, I also feel compelled by my responsibilities as a rabbi to say things from this pulpit that will cause discomfort if necessary. This congregation did not engage me to be a rubber stamp of its former Conservative leanings. They engaged me to be a teacher and a preacher, among other things, and I believe that it is a solemn responsibility for me to be and do just that, whether everyone likes what I say or not.  

I believe that I have never discussed this issue from the pulpit, or even in the monthly Bulletin, so it is possible that there are those in the congregation who do not know the history of Reform Judaism well enough to understand that this is what our movement expects its leaders to do. Of course, there are few enough members of the congregation here on a regular Friday evening that more folks will miss this message than will hear it. But I will make every effort I can to teach as many of our members about this aspect of a Reform rabbi’s rabbinate as possible so that there will be fewer surprises in the future.  

I do not see myself as a prophet in the sense that our tradition defines prophets. But I do see myself as an interpreter of those prophets’ teachings. I see it as one of my tasks as a rabbi to present those interpretations as well as I can as often as I can to as many people as I can wherever I can, including this pulpit. And I will continue to do so as long as I have the breath and the passion to make it possible. I take seriously Reform Judaism’s challenge to live up to the expectations of the ancient prophets in every way I can. I only hope and pray that you will do so as well.

Amen.