In Biblical times Shavuot marked the time that farmers in ancient Israel would begin to bring bikkurim, first fruits. They were brought in special baskets, as part of a clearly defined ritual which included recitation of an encapsulated version of the history of the Israelites up to the moment of bringing the offering.
We spend much of Shavuot talking about the giving of the Torah, which is just fine. But today I want to speak about bikkurim – first fruits, offerings. Who brings, and how they bring, has implications for us today, implications that are political and spiritual, implications that tell us a great deal about how we should apply Torah to live.
The ancient rabbis, in dealing with the bringing of these offerings, dealt with all kinds of situations. What if the person bringing was a convert? What if the person bringing didn’t know how to recite the history? What if the person bringing was too poor to afford a nice basket?
Their responses to these situations were sometimes progressive even by today's standards and sometimes not so much. But their willingness to consider enlarging the pool of those who brought offerings inspires me this morning to offer a public meditation on what we should be doing, for everyone’s benefit, to maximize the scope of who brings offerings and how, in multiple settings, from the most local to the most universal.
On Pesach we ask four questions. On Shavuot I'd like to offer three recommendations.
First, we need to as open as possible in how we define a worthwhile offering. William Deresieowitz wrote a book called “Excellent Sheep” in which he bemoaned how top universities are recruiting very smart students who don’t think sufficiently in critical, independent ways. Far more pernicious than this has been the empowerment of alt-right racists who boast of white supremacy and want to suppress racial and ethnic diversity.
The active suppression of diversity, coupled with a failure to reward originality, is a frightening combination.
In order to foster the kind of diversity of race, ethnicity and perspective that truly makes America great, we need to take steps to ensure – from preschool to university and way beyond – that divergent, funky offerings are encouraged and celebrated.
John Stuart Mill, one of the intellectual architects of modern liberalism, talked about how important it is for a society to have eccentrics. People need to feel comfortable to be who they are, to say what they feel. The more eccentrics, the healthier a society, he believed. Here’s what he wrote in "On Liberty" in 1859:
"Eccentricity has always abounded when and where strength of character has abounded; and the amount of eccentricity in a society has generally been proportional to the amount of genius, mental vigour, and moral courage which it contained. That so few now dare to be eccentric, marks the chief danger of the time." (From "On Liberty" in John Stuart Mill: A Selection of His Works, p. 86)
Mill maintained that people need to feel free to express themselves. The more lively an exchange of ideas you have, the greater the benefit to society.
He felt that the pressure to conform, which he observed around him, was dangerous to society.
What should we say now when hate crimes based on race, religion, ethnicity and sexuality are increasing? What should we say now when entire groups of people are being vilified for failing to conform to a certain white Christian ideal?
With the example of the ancient Israelites, who were told to channel their collective recollection of persecution to help sensitize them to the vulnerability of others; in the spirit of the ancient rabbis who imagined, and tried to accommodate, a whole range of people bringing offerings; with the inspiration of modern thinkers like Mill who championed diversity and downright eccentricity as essential to a thriving society, I urge us to encourage and celebrate a wide range of offerings, so long as those offerings don’t impinge upon the offerings of others. Which is also classic Mill and I agree.
And all American Jews, in my opinion, should agree. As I said months ago, Jews are uniquely positioned to influence the contemporary American conversation. We are vulnerable enough to know the difference and strong enough to make a difference. מאת כל איש אשר ידבנו לבו Me'et kol ish asher yidvenu libo – in keeping with the broad appeal to the ancient Israelites to contribute to the sanctuary, let's widen the range of the offerings that we accept and celebrate.
Second recommendation. We have to actively remove whatever prevents the emergence of the widest possible range of offerings.
Mitch Landrieu, mayor of New Orleans, recently gave an inspirational speech. The occasion for the speech was the removal of several of the remaining statues of confederacy leaders such as Robert E Lee. After saying that we cannot ignore that racism is central to the confederacy cause, he said the following:
"Another friend asked me to consider these four monuments from the perspective of an African American mother or father trying to explain to their fifth grade daughter who Robert E. Lee is and why he stands atop of our beautiful city. Can you do it? Can you look into that young girl’s eyes and convince her that Robert E. Lee is there to encourage her? Do you think she will feel inspired and hopeful by that story? Do these monuments help her see a future with limitless potential? Have you ever thought that if her potential is limited, yours and mine are too?"
Whatever impediments stand in anyone's way, stand in everyone's way. Whatever prevents anyone – regardless of race, ethnicity, gender, sexuality – from sharing his or her bikkurim/offerings most fully, prevents all of us from realizing our potential.
So we have to identify what's standing in the way. Regarding gender, for example – what is the impact of the fact that leadership roles in our national government are filled almost exclusively by males? In a Jewish context – what's the impact on our boys and girls when they get to Israel and discover that there is discrimination against those who want to pray in an egalitarian fashion? Or, closer to home, what's the impact on our boys and girls of seeing artwork up on the walls of our synagogue that features almost exclusively bearded men engaged in Jewish activities?
We should take a close look at whatever impediments, subtle and not-so-subtle, regarding gender and other issues, are preventing everyone from creating and offering their precious bikkurim.
Last suggestion. We should recognize that offerings often take time to be received.
I would suggest that we think of bikkurim, offerings, the way that we think of time-release capsules. They don't necessarily impact us immediately.
These moments before yizkor, before we ask God to recall our loved ones, before we take a few moments to focus intentionally on their lives, are moments when we can think about the time-release of whatever offerings our loved ones gave us during their lifetimes.
They may have taught us plenty through word or example but that doesn't mean that we were necessarily ready to learn it at the time.
Their offerings get released little by little as we are prepared to receive them.
I'll give a small example from my life which relates to the theme I've been discussing.
My sisters and I are very different from each other – different personalities, different approaches to Jewish observance, different career paths.
Our parents, who were not what I would call "laid back," somehow conveyed through their own example that it's important, when it comes to children, to be supportive even if they land in a whole variety of places you might not have anticipated or even hoped.
When I was on the receiving end I probably didn't think about it very much.
Now that I'm on the giving end – as a rabbi and as a parent – I think about it all the time.
This offering of theirs to us is increasingly welcome as we continue to observe and love and support a new generation.
Please consider that whatever insight or perspective your loved ones offered you during their lifetimes might take time to marinate, or blossom, or time-release or whatever image you prefer.
In the tradition of our rabbis who by and large tried to widen the scope of who would bring offerings; in the tradition of progressive voices on both sides of the ocean who believed and continue to believe that by widening the other's potential we also widen our own, I urge us to commit, as an intentional, spiritual, political act, to the full range and power of the offerings that our brothers and sisters are gracious and courageous enough to present.
Let's make room for the conventional and the eccentric.
Let's confront whatever is preventing the full range of offerings from being nurtured, presented, acknowledged and accepted.
Let's open our minds and hearts to the offerings of those who came before us as they continue to be revealed to us.
In this way, חג הבכורים hag habikkurim, the holiday of first offerings, enables מתן תורתינו matan torahtenu, the giving of Torah that actually makes life better.
Shared with the Temple Israel of Great Neck community before Yizkor on Shavuot 5777, June 1, 2017
We spend much of Shavuot talking about the giving of the Torah, which is just fine. But today I want to speak about bikkurim – first fruits, offerings. Who brings, and how they bring, has implications for us today, implications that are political and spiritual, implications that tell us a great deal about how we should apply Torah to live.
The ancient rabbis, in dealing with the bringing of these offerings, dealt with all kinds of situations. What if the person bringing was a convert? What if the person bringing didn’t know how to recite the history? What if the person bringing was too poor to afford a nice basket?
Their responses to these situations were sometimes progressive even by today's standards and sometimes not so much. But their willingness to consider enlarging the pool of those who brought offerings inspires me this morning to offer a public meditation on what we should be doing, for everyone’s benefit, to maximize the scope of who brings offerings and how, in multiple settings, from the most local to the most universal.
On Pesach we ask four questions. On Shavuot I'd like to offer three recommendations.
First, we need to as open as possible in how we define a worthwhile offering. William Deresieowitz wrote a book called “Excellent Sheep” in which he bemoaned how top universities are recruiting very smart students who don’t think sufficiently in critical, independent ways. Far more pernicious than this has been the empowerment of alt-right racists who boast of white supremacy and want to suppress racial and ethnic diversity.
The active suppression of diversity, coupled with a failure to reward originality, is a frightening combination.
In order to foster the kind of diversity of race, ethnicity and perspective that truly makes America great, we need to take steps to ensure – from preschool to university and way beyond – that divergent, funky offerings are encouraged and celebrated.
John Stuart Mill, one of the intellectual architects of modern liberalism, talked about how important it is for a society to have eccentrics. People need to feel comfortable to be who they are, to say what they feel. The more eccentrics, the healthier a society, he believed. Here’s what he wrote in "On Liberty" in 1859:
"Eccentricity has always abounded when and where strength of character has abounded; and the amount of eccentricity in a society has generally been proportional to the amount of genius, mental vigour, and moral courage which it contained. That so few now dare to be eccentric, marks the chief danger of the time." (From "On Liberty" in John Stuart Mill: A Selection of His Works, p. 86)
Mill maintained that people need to feel free to express themselves. The more lively an exchange of ideas you have, the greater the benefit to society.
He felt that the pressure to conform, which he observed around him, was dangerous to society.
What should we say now when hate crimes based on race, religion, ethnicity and sexuality are increasing? What should we say now when entire groups of people are being vilified for failing to conform to a certain white Christian ideal?
With the example of the ancient Israelites, who were told to channel their collective recollection of persecution to help sensitize them to the vulnerability of others; in the spirit of the ancient rabbis who imagined, and tried to accommodate, a whole range of people bringing offerings; with the inspiration of modern thinkers like Mill who championed diversity and downright eccentricity as essential to a thriving society, I urge us to encourage and celebrate a wide range of offerings, so long as those offerings don’t impinge upon the offerings of others. Which is also classic Mill and I agree.
And all American Jews, in my opinion, should agree. As I said months ago, Jews are uniquely positioned to influence the contemporary American conversation. We are vulnerable enough to know the difference and strong enough to make a difference. מאת כל איש אשר ידבנו לבו Me'et kol ish asher yidvenu libo – in keeping with the broad appeal to the ancient Israelites to contribute to the sanctuary, let's widen the range of the offerings that we accept and celebrate.
Second recommendation. We have to actively remove whatever prevents the emergence of the widest possible range of offerings.
Mitch Landrieu, mayor of New Orleans, recently gave an inspirational speech. The occasion for the speech was the removal of several of the remaining statues of confederacy leaders such as Robert E Lee. After saying that we cannot ignore that racism is central to the confederacy cause, he said the following:
"Another friend asked me to consider these four monuments from the perspective of an African American mother or father trying to explain to their fifth grade daughter who Robert E. Lee is and why he stands atop of our beautiful city. Can you do it? Can you look into that young girl’s eyes and convince her that Robert E. Lee is there to encourage her? Do you think she will feel inspired and hopeful by that story? Do these monuments help her see a future with limitless potential? Have you ever thought that if her potential is limited, yours and mine are too?"
Whatever impediments stand in anyone's way, stand in everyone's way. Whatever prevents anyone – regardless of race, ethnicity, gender, sexuality – from sharing his or her bikkurim/offerings most fully, prevents all of us from realizing our potential.
So we have to identify what's standing in the way. Regarding gender, for example – what is the impact of the fact that leadership roles in our national government are filled almost exclusively by males? In a Jewish context – what's the impact on our boys and girls when they get to Israel and discover that there is discrimination against those who want to pray in an egalitarian fashion? Or, closer to home, what's the impact on our boys and girls of seeing artwork up on the walls of our synagogue that features almost exclusively bearded men engaged in Jewish activities?
We should take a close look at whatever impediments, subtle and not-so-subtle, regarding gender and other issues, are preventing everyone from creating and offering their precious bikkurim.
Last suggestion. We should recognize that offerings often take time to be received.
I would suggest that we think of bikkurim, offerings, the way that we think of time-release capsules. They don't necessarily impact us immediately.
These moments before yizkor, before we ask God to recall our loved ones, before we take a few moments to focus intentionally on their lives, are moments when we can think about the time-release of whatever offerings our loved ones gave us during their lifetimes.
They may have taught us plenty through word or example but that doesn't mean that we were necessarily ready to learn it at the time.
Their offerings get released little by little as we are prepared to receive them.
I'll give a small example from my life which relates to the theme I've been discussing.
My sisters and I are very different from each other – different personalities, different approaches to Jewish observance, different career paths.
Our parents, who were not what I would call "laid back," somehow conveyed through their own example that it's important, when it comes to children, to be supportive even if they land in a whole variety of places you might not have anticipated or even hoped.
When I was on the receiving end I probably didn't think about it very much.
Now that I'm on the giving end – as a rabbi and as a parent – I think about it all the time.
This offering of theirs to us is increasingly welcome as we continue to observe and love and support a new generation.
Please consider that whatever insight or perspective your loved ones offered you during their lifetimes might take time to marinate, or blossom, or time-release or whatever image you prefer.
In the tradition of our rabbis who by and large tried to widen the scope of who would bring offerings; in the tradition of progressive voices on both sides of the ocean who believed and continue to believe that by widening the other's potential we also widen our own, I urge us to commit, as an intentional, spiritual, political act, to the full range and power of the offerings that our brothers and sisters are gracious and courageous enough to present.
Let's make room for the conventional and the eccentric.
Let's confront whatever is preventing the full range of offerings from being nurtured, presented, acknowledged and accepted.
Let's open our minds and hearts to the offerings of those who came before us as they continue to be revealed to us.
In this way, חג הבכורים hag habikkurim, the holiday of first offerings, enables מתן תורתינו matan torahtenu, the giving of Torah that actually makes life better.
Shared with the Temple Israel of Great Neck community before Yizkor on Shavuot 5777, June 1, 2017
No comments:
Post a Comment