[This sermon was introduced by Patty Larkin's ballad "Me." Perhaps someday I will learn how to upload a sound file to this blog, if indeed possible. In the meantime, feel free to seek the song out on iTunes. It is readily available]
It sometimes feels as though we are
swimming in a sea of “me”s and “I”s. In a large sense, it’s a mess of our own
glorious creation. Of our own remarkable
achievements: the rise and success of “me” -- the individual.
Since the dawn of modernity and the revolutionary
French vision of the rights of the individual and citizen, a vision that finds
parallel expression in our own country’s Declaration of Independence and Bill
of Rights, the individual has reigned supreme.
We know the inherent truth to this reality; it’s what makes folk singer
and master guitarist Patty Larkin’s presentation “me, me, me,…I,I,I” so darn
entertaining. We recognize the sentiment
– in others and in ourselves.
In the late 18th century, when the
concept of the natural and inalienable rights of the individual -- of course, in the context of the 18th
century, these were the rights of white men, but allow me to anachronistically
project the success of the suffragist and civil rights movements back into
history for a moment so that we can extend the intended “rights of men” to all
individuals – - when these rights of the individual were first discussed, it
was done so as a broad vision presented by legal theorists and philosophers of
the time not entirely as a practical reality.
It is perhaps difficult for those of us raised
on the tenants of these modern concepts to comprehend a world where the notion
of a human being having natural rights to property, liberty, and life (let
alone health insurance) was far from an assumption but rather a theoretical
and ideal vision, one that we learned had to be legislated repeatedly
throughout history in order to truly extend these rights of humankind to all
individuals. We’ve learned the vision
wasn’t so easy to implement. Indeed, we
are still working on that. Please vote
in November!
The Reform movement is grounded in the
natural rights of the individual. No
longer are the decisions of a central governing body of Rabbis, the ancient and
revered Talmudic sages, or even a local chief rabbi, legally binding. An individual was, according to even the first
generation of German reformers, first and foremost, a citizen of the state; and,
individual autonomy slowly began to trump communal concerns particularly in
matters of religion.
By philosopher Eugene Borowitz’ mid-twentieth
century Centenary Perspective on Reform Judaism, individual autonomy had
become, as it remains today, firmly the last say in all religious decisions
among Reform (and arguably, as I discussed a few years ago, all American) Jews.
Religious affiliation and observance is
no longer mandated from outside sources. It is a choice of the individual.
Individual autonomy, this right to choose for
oneself, however, requires individual responsibility – and not just to the
individual. It is not an every man or
woman for his/her self centered ideology.
It requires individual responsibility towards the community and world as
well. I believe that we’ve mastered responsibility
to ourselves as individuals. We can all
sing along with Patty Larkin. We’ve lost sight of our responsibility as Jews.
The last measures of Patty Larkin’s
satirical song “me” cleverly and playfully highlight the distortion that occurs
in the world when the focus is solely and too heavily on the individual. “I’m not talking about him or her or them, no
way,” she rants; but, the “me” in the center ultimately gets lost. The intense focus on the “me” becomes a rhythmic scat, compelling on the surface, but all that’s left is a distorted
syllable. Is it English, is it French, or is it simply nonsense?
Too much focus on the “me” can lead to
incomprehensible behavior, incomprehensible behavior that ultimately has the
power of destroying the fabric of our community. An example by way of an incident that
occurred this past July, in South Florida. A 21-yr old life guard was fired from his job. Be clear, he didn’t fail at guarding human
life. He was actually fired for doing just that, for rescuing,
for saving the life of a drowning man.
Problem was, the man he saved was drowning beyond his “designated guard zone.” His employer, The Life Guard Service, explained
to reporters that the guard was fired because of the risk of “liability issues”
– in other words, the fear of legal exposure caused this "life guard" service company to limit its life saving services.
They put their “me,” their concerns for self preservation – in this case
financial -- before a human life that needed saving.
Now, I admit that my understanding of the
nuances of litigation risk and insurance boundaries is probably naïve, but it
seems to me that the behavior of this Life Guard Service is doing far more to
harm human life than guard it in their desire to protect themselves from
litigation. And the human being who
acted responsibly to save a life, who acted out of a sense of individual and
moral autonomy to go beyond his official zone, no longer gets to guard life.
Far less dramatic but as compelling and
certainly closer to home is the state of our congregations. Prior to the modern period and the rise of the
“rights of the individual” Jewish identity, Jewish affiliation was imposed on the Jewish community. Jews were forced to pay for the right to live as chartered – often
heavily taxed - communities within the broader societies in which they lived. There was no choice,
no individual autonomy. They were not citizens
with natural rights to land ownership and liberty. Again, such concepts were still yet to enter serious ideological and political dialogue let alone practice.
In America, synagogue membership has never been
mandated. Members may feel that the
cost of synagogue membership is a burdensome tax – a heavy cost for various
services, some tangible and some less so; yet, unlike the pre-modern period, it
is entirely voluntary. Like the support
for any charitable non-profit organization in this country, the activation of
individual autonomy is required. It’s
your choice.
The flip side to this burden is that 1) there is
no government interference, but 2) there is also no
government support of the practice of Judaism.
This isn’t Israel where synagogues and their rabbis receive financial
subsidies by the government. This is
America where autonomy brings with it religious freedom and burden of
responsibility. There was a time in our not so distant American
Jewish history when joining a synagogue and supporting the Jewish community was
considered a privilege towards which many aspired. Jews
joined and supported congregations simply because it was a self-imposed choice. They expected it of themsleves as Jews, and
this expectation, this responsibility was valued as a freedom of being an
American Jew. Prioritizing the
expression of Jewish life, by choice, took precedence over many other needs of
the self, of the “me.”
Perhaps the understanding was clearer in the
past then today, even if unstated, that if we didn’t join and make the
synagogue a priority in our lives, it would cease to be there. Or maybe, Jews
were simply riding the increased wave of religious institutional affiliation
that swept through America in the WWII and post war era. Whatever the explanation for the success of
the synagogue in the mid- and late twentieth century, our grandparents and
parents understood that the individual often had to take a back seat to the
needs of the community in order to sustain that very community. The founders of this congregation, in
particular, who were generally far from being among the wealthiest strata of
Baltimore society, understood the need they were filling and the seeds that
they were planting. We might label their efforts a sacrifice, but in their
minds, they were fulfilling their responsibility as American Jews in creating a
place for the pursuit of Torah, worship, and acts of social justice. The
expense of the synagogue was a choice. At the same time, it wasn’t viewed as optional. It was a top priority.
There are no federal or state subsidies for
religious houses of worship in America (thank goodness for that hallmark of
religious freedom in this country), but that means if we don’t care about the
community enough to support it, it will, simply put, cease to exist. My fear, based on various demographic studies
both locally and nationally, and based on worship trends within our own congregation
and beyond our walls in our sister congregations, is that here in 21st
century America, the synagogue has become a responsibility that too few of us
care to shoulder. As Jews in America
today, we have few, if any, boundaries or limitations. We can join and participate in all of the
clubs and organizations to which our neighbors belong. Our individual interest in and our eagerness
to participate so fully in American society, and our being welcome to do so, is
something to be celebrated. It is a mark
of success, but this success may just be trumping our desire to maintain this
communal institution, the synagogue.
This Rosh Hashanah, I challenge you to convince me
otherwise.
In partnership with the lay leadership, I am
asking you to tell me why you are here: why you belong to Temple Emanuel, and
what you expect from us. This is your
opportunity to take the time to consider what the synagogue and affiliation
means to you.
By week’s end, you will be emailed a link to a
survey that I’d ask every adult member of your household to take. Hard copies are available if you’d prefer to
respond in that manner, and/or access to it online here at Temple Emanuel will
be provided if you if you don’t have online capabilities at your home. No matter how or where you choose to
participate, please know that it is entirely anonymous. The only way anyone
will know how you answer is if you choose to tell me. It will take only 10
minutes of your time, but the information you provide will be invaluable in
helping the leadership of this congregation plan for the future. It will also, I hope, give you the
opportunity to consider your role: involvement or non-involvement - in the
future of Jewish life in America and more specifically here in Baltimore and at
Temple Emanuel.
As we enter the New Year of 5773 together, please help me to understand
where the place of Torah, worship, and of Jewish community fits in among all of
the demands made upon your “me.”
Shana
tovah
