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HASHANAH MORNING SERVICE 2004 As we do every Rosh Hashanah, let us consider this morning’s Torah portion. The rabbis of the Midrash and the Torah commentators loved to focus on the smallest of details in the text. Whenever they found an inconsistency or a gap in information, they reveled in it. You see, for the ancient rabbis, the Torah taught as much by what it didn’t say as by what it did. Today’s text is no different. There is missing information, and points that are unclear, and the rabbis could not let them go without some comment. I would like to turn our attention to Abraham’s companions on his journey. Of course, there was Isaac. But aside from Isaac there were also those two other young men. Abraham instructed them to accompany him and Isaac. But when they got to Mount Moriah, he abandoned them, requiring that they stay at the foot of the mountain with the donkey. Who were these two young men? Why did Abraham bring them along? Why did he abandon them? First, let me share what some of the rabbis had to say. Who were these men? The commentators seem to all agree that they must have been Ishmael, Abraham’s other son, and Eliezer, Abraham’s servant. Why these two? Perhaps because these are the only men, other than Isaac, that the Torah deemed worthy of mentioning as being part of Abraham’s camp. These were Abraham’s two closest companions. Later, it would be Eliezer who Abraham would send to Haran to seek a suitable wife for Isaac. And as for Ishmael, while it is true that at Sarah’s bidding, Abraham did expel him and his mother, Hagar, from the camp, it would seem that Abraham did maintain some relationship with him, for when Abraham died, it was Ishmael who joined Isaac in burying their father. The rabbis of the Midrash enjoyed fantasizing on the nature of that relationship. In fact, there is one Midrash that Abraham would regularly visit Ishmael’s and Hagar’s camp. However, Sarah, being jealous of Hagar, would insist that when Abraham visited his son, he was not permitted to get off his camel, thereby limiting physical contact with Hagar, his former concubine. What did the rabbis say about why Abraham decided to bring Ishmael and Eliezer along on this journey? After all, what purpose did they serve? Obviously, Abraham did not want them to participate in the sacrifice. Nor did he need them to carry anything, for when they got to Mount Moriah, Abraham and Isaac were perfectly capable of carrying up the mountain everything they needed. Did Abraham need them to watch the donkey at the bottom of the mountain? Why? Could he have not just tied it to a tree or a rock and leave enough food and water to sustain it until he returned? After all, we are talking about the wilderness here - not midtown Manhattan. What were the chances that someone would come along and steal it? Both Rashi and PIRKE de RABBI ELIEZER offer an interesting explanation. They claim that since Abraham was a man of importance, it would have been inappropriate for him to travel anywhere unescorted, or even to be left alone. Therefore Abraham needed two escorts so that, if one of them had to go to the bathroom, there would still be one remaining. And finally, what did the rabbis say about why Abraham had these two men travel all the way on their three day journey to Mount Moriah but then, once there, leave them behind as he and Isaac ascended the mountain alone? Midrash Genesis Rabba tells a story that other commentators, including Rashi, repeat. According to this text, when Abraham looked up and saw whatever sign it was that God used to signify that Mount Moriah was the place, he turned to Isaac and the two men and asked if they saw what he saw. Isaac said “yes,” but the two others said they saw nothing. With that, Abraham said to the companions, “The donkey sees nothing and you see nothing. Therefore stay here by yourselves with the donkey.” In other words, they were not spiritually attuned enough to complete the journey. However, the 16th century Italian commentator, Sforno, saw it another way. He claimed that Abraham left them behind because he feared that they might try to stop him from sacrificing Isaac. Now that we see what some of the rabbis had to say, let me try to reconstruct the story with another understanding of the events. For you see, things really haven’t changed that much from Abraham’s time to our own. Whether or not we realize it, this story of Abraham and his two companions is actually a story about community - about what defines a community, how a community is supposed to function, and what can happen when a community fails to function. Who were these two companions? I agree with the commentators. They were probably Ishmael and Eliezer, the two men, other than Isaac, to whom Abraham felt closest. But what is important isn’t so much who they were as individuals but rather, what they represented. Ishmael and Eliezer represented Abraham’s community. They represented all those who were, so to speak, part of Abraham’s camp. These were the people who were closest to Abraham. They were close to Abraham not only because they physically lived with him, but more importantly, because they shared so much in common with him, especially when it came to beliefs and values. That which drew them together also set them apart from the world around them. That is what a community is. A community is a group of people who are tied to each other because of what they share in common. That which they share makes them kin, for that which they share is important, if not essential, to their own senses of self. As individuals, that which they share defines for each one of them, at least in part, who they are as people. As a group, those personally self-defining elements which they share in common, unite them into one entity of mutually affirming personalities. Yes, there may be differences between them as individuals, but the commonalities that bind them more than compensate for those differences. We are a community. A Jewish community. A Temple Emanuel community. Each of us are Jews, or we are married to Jews. In spite of the fact that our Jewishness sets us apart from our neighbors, in our own lives it is still such a significant part of how we define ourselves that we have been unwilling to ignore it or set it aside, making believe that it doesn’t exist. Yes, there are those who have done that. They have separated themselves from any attachment to a Jewish community. But we have not. Our common Jewish identity has been strong enough to bring us together into this sanctuary this morning, and into our membership in this formal Jewish communal organization; our congregation. For some, it has been so strong that it has brought them to varying levels of activity and participation in the life of this congregation. For others, simply belonging has been sufficient. Wherever we personally stand on that spectrum, still we have chosen to stand within the borders of this Jewish community. Why did Abraham bring Ishmael and Eliezer along on the journey to Moriah? Here I disagree with the rabbis. It was not because Abraham was so important that he needed an official entourage, but rather because Abraham was facing a terrible challenge and he could not bear facing it alone. Eliezer and Ishmael were his closest companions and he needed their emotional support. He could not, nor did he want to, stand alone. That is what healthy communities do; they stand by you in good times and in bad. The greatest power of a community is that it vanquishes loneliness. When you are part of a community, you need not stand alone. For Abraham, he needed such companionship in his time of crisis. But the companionship of community was never meant to be reserved just for times of crisis. That companionship is intended as an ongoing experience. Indeed, a community can only work effectively in times of crisis if at those times it is building upon a solid foundation of shared companionship established in times of light. Even the most empathetic of individuals can only identify superficially with the pain and suffering of a stranger. Those who are most readily there to stand by us in our trials are those with whom we have shared a history of working together, laughing together, praying together, and even debating together. The purpose of community is to enable us to share our lives, all our lives - the good and the bad, the dreams and the nightmares - with those to whom we are uniquely bonded. Ideally, that is what the life of our Temple community is supposed to be. We are drawn together because we are Jews living in the Quad Cities, and being Jewish is important enough to us to want to be a part of this community; to want to support this community, at least financially, if not with our time and energy as well. Yet the act of joining our congregation - any congregation - will only carry us to the entry, or to the fringe, of the communal experience. We profess that there is something about our innate selves which we share. Now, we have to share our lives as well. We have to connect with each other. We have to make of ourselves more than a name in a roster book and we have to do our part to discover the humanity of the people behind the other names in that book. Our community is only a community when the members of our community are interested in and willing to connect with each other. If one looks around this sanctuary, and sees mainly strangers, then we have a lot of work to do, for we have to transform strangers into friends, and if not friends, then healthy acquaintances. In the beginning of our worship services, we turn to the people who surround us and welcome each other with a warm handshake as we sing, “Hinei Mah Tov,” “How good and pleasant it is for us, as a kindred community, to come together in unity.” Ideally, we should arrive at the point where we can shake those hands and sing those words and really mean it. That is community. Being a community means being there for each other. Ishmael and Eliezer were there for Abraham. But before we can be there for each other, we have to start off by being there, period. We can never come to appreciate each other; we can never reach the point where we can nurture each other until we are willing to come in contact with each other; spend time with each other; have fun with each other; share projects with each other. If being Jewish is what defines us, and therefore defines our community, then also what defines us is that as Jews, and especially as Reform Jews, we all have certain goals we wish to see attained. For example, we wish to see a Reform Jewish community continue to exist in the Quad Cities. We wish to see our children grow up with positive Jewish self images and identities. We wish to see the safety assured and the rights secured of all Jews in our community, our nation, and in the world. We wish to see the Jewish people continue the heritage of serving as a force for humanity, decency, and justice in our world. If we indeed share these, and other, goals, then we truly become a community when we can come together to work toward their achievement. Not when we expect others to do the job for us, but when we do the job ourselves. When we all share in the work and bask in its rewards. That is what communities do. That is what healthy communities do. And you know what? When they do it, they feel great about it, they feel great about each other, and they feel great about themselves. If the story is all about community, and Ishmael and Eliezer represent Abraham’s supportive community, then why, at that most significant time - when Abraham was about to actually offer up Isaac as the required sacrifice - when Abraham probably needed the support of his community the most - why did he choose to leave them behind? Perhaps Sforno had some insight. Perhaps Abraham was afraid that even though he needed their support, they might interfere with his fulfilling his vision of what needed to be done. They might see it differently, and attempt to alter the final outcome. Therefore, as far as Abraham was concerned, they were better left behind, for if they did not see the matter his way, then like the donkey, they did not see it at all. If that be the case, then at that moment when Abraham left them at the foot of the mountain, Abraham forgot what it meant to be a member of a community. At that moment, Abraham caused his community to fail as a community, for he placed his personal vision above everything and everyone else. He closed his mind, he closed his heart, to the possibility that someone with another perspective might have something worthwhile to say; to the possibility that his mind could be changed for the betterment of all. Community is not about personal agenda. It is about cooperative living. However, cooperation is not synonymous with conformity. It does not mean that we have to surrender our opinions and perspectives. Not at all. A community cannot be a community without open discourse and debate. If the people are to have ownership in their community, then they must have a say in the direction of their community. But in the end, there comes a time when the talking is done and decisions need to be made; made through a democratic process and not imposed from on high. And once those decisions are made, for a community to survive, it must be ready to move on. The democracy of the process must be respected, for in democracy, you win some, you lose some. This is just the way it works. Enjoy your victories and accept your defeats. Otherwise, progress is brought to a screeching halt, with distrust and anger displacing respect and camaraderie. If the decisions democratically arrived at by the community are ones that you cannot in good conscience live with, and if you have energetically tried to impact those decisions but the majority was not receptive to your perspectives, then, of course you have the option to withdraw from the community. For healthy communities are not prisons. People can come and go as their please. It should go without saying that it is not the function of a community to drive people out, but sad to say, sometimes individuals and their community reach a parting of the way. Yet in a healthy community, every effort is extended, on both sides, to avoid that bitter outcome. Just as individual agendas must not strangle a community, the leadership of a community must make every effort to leave no member behind. Abraham here is a very poor role model. He went his own way, not caring what the members of his community thought or felt. He did not even bother to discuss the matter with them. Indeed, afraid that they would see things differently, he cut them off. Should Abraham have abandoned his vision in favor of whatever Ishmael and Eliezer told him. Not necessarily. If he believed in his vision, then it was his responsibility to bring Ishmael and Eliezer to the point where they could share that vision. Sometimes leaders have to be salesmen as well as visionaries. All that I have said holds true for our Temple community as well. One of the greatest strengths of our congregation is that it has always been a participatory democracy. Membership on almost every committee is open to any congregant who is interested. Our board meetings are open to the public. Any congregant can attend and participate in the discussion, though of course they can’t vote. And if you want to get on the Board, and vote, all you have to do is demonstrate an active interest in working for the congregation, and believe me, the Nominating Committee will find you. However, all this does not free each and every one of us from the responsibility of serving as watchdogs, jealously guarding the very character of how the business of our community is conducted. For a community will only remain a healthy one as long as its members strive to keep it so. Perhaps Ishmael and Eliezer should not have taken Abraham’s order to stay behind laying down. Perhaps they should have spoken up. For if they had, it may have been a very different story. Both Abraham and we have been graciously blessed; blessed by the existence of a community of loving, caring friends. While Abraham may have momentarily forgotten his blessings, let us never do so. Rather, let us drink deep from the wells of our community life. Let us ever grow in the joy of each others company. Let us revel in the companionship of those with whom we share so much in common. And let us join hands in the building of a greater future for us all. AMEN |