Off the coast of India is an island where the inhabitants have lived relatively undisturbed for generations. They are hunter-gatherers, they speak a language that is not comprehensible to anyone else, and they have had almost no encounters with the rest of the world. The island was in the news recently. It seems a young Christian missionary came to the island, tried to teach Bible, and it didn’t end well for him. You can find the details in the media if you’d like.
A few days ago I told our third and fourth graders about the island, leaving out what happened to the man who visited, and I asked them, was there every a time when the Jewish community as a whole lived completely apart from other types of people? I wanted them to think about Jewish history and if Jews as a whole were ever as isolated from outside influences as the people on this island near India have been.
One said - yes, when we were in Egypt. And I said, it’s true that the Israelites lived in a separate area, called Goshen, but did we have anything to do with Egyptians and other people? And the student said, “Yeah I guess we did.”
If you think about it, you will probably agree that Jews have never lived in complete isolation from other people. Wherever we lived, we have been exposed to other cultures including: Egyptian, Persian, Greek, Roman, French, Spanish, American.
Hanukkah begins tomorrow night. The part of the story about Hanukkah that interests me the most has to do with the way our ancestors handled a different culture, in this case Greek culture. There was a whole range of response to Greek culture - some said, we don’t want any part of it and they tried to isolate themselves. Some changed their names, adopted Greek culture, and barely remained connected to Jewish tradition. Some found a way to do both - to adopt the best practices of the Greeks but to find a way to stay true to Jewish tradition. Call it tradition and change, call it creative adaptation.
I’m going to call it living as a Jew in the world.
And I’m going to ask us to think about ourselves in the United States in 2018. What do we do to figure out how to live in this world as a Jew? How much of American culture to adopt? Which aspects of being Jewish are non-negotiable. Meaning - I dress American, I eat American foods, I listen to American music. But I also do x, y and z as a Jew and I won’t give those up and I don’t want my children and grandchildren to give those up. What is our x, y and z? Do we have limits? Is everything up for grabs?
I want to share 2 stories.
The first has to do with how we live in the world as Jews when it comes to ritual. This past Monday I started my class in Jewish short stories. One of the stories we read, by Ayelet Tsabari, is called Brit Milah. It tells the story of a Jewish woman in her late 60’s who was born in Yemen, came to Israel and raised her family there. Her daughter moved to Canada, married a man one of whose parents is Jewish, and had a boy. At the beginning of the story, the grandmother is visiting her daughter, son-in-law and brand new grandson in Toronto a month after the baby was born.
At a key moment in the story, the grandmother is changing the baby’s diaper and notices that the baby has not been circumcised. She confronts her daughter. The daughter says that she and her husband discussed it and they decided not to circumcise the child, that friends of theirs with whom they have weekly Shabbat dinner have made the same decision. The grandmother is appalled. She refuses to hold the baby. The daughter says, mom, you’re not so religious, and it turns out, the baby’s grandmother has moved away from some of the observance with which she was raised. But the grandmother says, “this is different.”
I won’t tell you how the story ends. But I share the story with you because each one of us figures out our own choices, where we push and where we pull, and what crosses the line. And then the question is, what choices do our children and grandchildren and nieces and nephews make based on what have they seen us do and based on other influences in their lives? I share the story because I think it raises the issues and the dynamics that we all face as we decide how we are going to be Jewish in the world, knowing that the choices we make will affect the choices that others make, including those in subsequent generations.
The second story has to do with how we live in the world as Jews when it comes to ethics. There’s a synagogue in Westchester that tried, unsuccessfully, to arrange for asylum for their undocumented custodian who, as a small child, came to the US with his family following significant persecution. The rabbi, Aaron Brusso, worked in our Youth House years ago and the cantor, Randy Herman, worked here as well.
Here are the recent events: The custodian, Armando Rojas, was deported this past February. Rabbi Brusso and Armando’s son went to Tijuana to bring Armando across the border as an asylum seeker, following US law and protocol. Two of Armando’s extended family members have recently been killed in Mexico and Armando requested asylum on the grounds that he was afraid to go back to Mexico. Just recently his request was denied in a courtroom up near Buffalo, meaning that he will be sent back even as his wife and two children, who were born in US, remain behind.
Rabbi Brusso wrote the following in an article in which he described the lack of transparency that he witnessed surrounding the recent court case:
“For months we have been trying to tell his story to an immigration-enforcement system and asylum process not interested in hearing it. His family is being broken apart, his fears are going unheard, and he has spent months in detention. All of this has happened with grudging responsiveness and a stunning lack of transparency from our government.”
Rabbi Brusso then described the responsiveness of the community:
“In contrast to that indifference, our community of more than 500 families responded with love by bringing Armando’s family weekly meals, hiring an attorney, and calling the family daily. We didn’t hesitate to send two delegations to the border to walk Armando to a port of entry so he could seek asylum. We didn’t think twice about driving his teenage son to visit him in detention, where he has been for the past five months.”
I’m not sharing this story right now in order to enter into a debate about immigration, though such a debate is critically necessary and, like many people, I have strong views about how and why we should advocate for immigration reform. I’m sharing the story now because it shows how a community strongly, fiercely, compassionately, demonstrated how a Jew should live in the world when it come to ethical behavior.
If our children and grandchildren and nieces and nephews are watching us to see what are our priorities, what are our red lines, when it comes to rituals like how we celebrate, what we eat and how we pray, they are surely watching us to see, what are our priorities, what are our red lines, when it comes to how we treat other human beings.
Joseph, son of Jacob and Rachel, did not live in isolation from the rest of the world. To the contrary - he was fully entrenched in Egypt, the most advanced civilization of the time. He had an Egyptian name, he dressed and probably even walked like an Egyptian. His story, of how to navigate, how to channel the rituals and ethics of his people, how to embrace surrounding culture but not forget what it means to be a child of Israel, is our story.
When I said to the third and fourth graders, we Jews are part of the world, we don’t live on an island - of course a bunch of hands went up and a few students said, “actually we live on Long Island, Rabbi Stecker.”
And I explained to them what I meant, and of course you know what I mean. We don’t live in isolation.
We live very much connected to the world around us. And so, with Hanukkah upon us, the holiday of identity and dedication and personal and communal light - I ask us to consider the following:
Even as we dress like Americans and work like Americans and entertain ourselves like Americans, what are the practices and the values, the rituals and the ethics, that we will hold on to as Jews because that’s who we are, because that’s who we are meant to be, because that’s who the world needs us to be?
Let’s think about all of that. In addition to wanting to do what’s right in the moment, we should also remember that generations already born and as yet unborn are watching.
Originally delivered at Temple Israel of Great Neck on December 1, 2018
Joseph in Egypt
A few days ago I told our third and fourth graders about the island, leaving out what happened to the man who visited, and I asked them, was there every a time when the Jewish community as a whole lived completely apart from other types of people? I wanted them to think about Jewish history and if Jews as a whole were ever as isolated from outside influences as the people on this island near India have been.
One said - yes, when we were in Egypt. And I said, it’s true that the Israelites lived in a separate area, called Goshen, but did we have anything to do with Egyptians and other people? And the student said, “Yeah I guess we did.”
If you think about it, you will probably agree that Jews have never lived in complete isolation from other people. Wherever we lived, we have been exposed to other cultures including: Egyptian, Persian, Greek, Roman, French, Spanish, American.
Hanukkah begins tomorrow night. The part of the story about Hanukkah that interests me the most has to do with the way our ancestors handled a different culture, in this case Greek culture. There was a whole range of response to Greek culture - some said, we don’t want any part of it and they tried to isolate themselves. Some changed their names, adopted Greek culture, and barely remained connected to Jewish tradition. Some found a way to do both - to adopt the best practices of the Greeks but to find a way to stay true to Jewish tradition. Call it tradition and change, call it creative adaptation.
I’m going to call it living as a Jew in the world.
And I’m going to ask us to think about ourselves in the United States in 2018. What do we do to figure out how to live in this world as a Jew? How much of American culture to adopt? Which aspects of being Jewish are non-negotiable. Meaning - I dress American, I eat American foods, I listen to American music. But I also do x, y and z as a Jew and I won’t give those up and I don’t want my children and grandchildren to give those up. What is our x, y and z? Do we have limits? Is everything up for grabs?
I want to share 2 stories.
The first has to do with how we live in the world as Jews when it comes to ritual. This past Monday I started my class in Jewish short stories. One of the stories we read, by Ayelet Tsabari, is called Brit Milah. It tells the story of a Jewish woman in her late 60’s who was born in Yemen, came to Israel and raised her family there. Her daughter moved to Canada, married a man one of whose parents is Jewish, and had a boy. At the beginning of the story, the grandmother is visiting her daughter, son-in-law and brand new grandson in Toronto a month after the baby was born.
At a key moment in the story, the grandmother is changing the baby’s diaper and notices that the baby has not been circumcised. She confronts her daughter. The daughter says that she and her husband discussed it and they decided not to circumcise the child, that friends of theirs with whom they have weekly Shabbat dinner have made the same decision. The grandmother is appalled. She refuses to hold the baby. The daughter says, mom, you’re not so religious, and it turns out, the baby’s grandmother has moved away from some of the observance with which she was raised. But the grandmother says, “this is different.”
I won’t tell you how the story ends. But I share the story with you because each one of us figures out our own choices, where we push and where we pull, and what crosses the line. And then the question is, what choices do our children and grandchildren and nieces and nephews make based on what have they seen us do and based on other influences in their lives? I share the story because I think it raises the issues and the dynamics that we all face as we decide how we are going to be Jewish in the world, knowing that the choices we make will affect the choices that others make, including those in subsequent generations.
The second story has to do with how we live in the world as Jews when it comes to ethics. There’s a synagogue in Westchester that tried, unsuccessfully, to arrange for asylum for their undocumented custodian who, as a small child, came to the US with his family following significant persecution. The rabbi, Aaron Brusso, worked in our Youth House years ago and the cantor, Randy Herman, worked here as well.
Here are the recent events: The custodian, Armando Rojas, was deported this past February. Rabbi Brusso and Armando’s son went to Tijuana to bring Armando across the border as an asylum seeker, following US law and protocol. Two of Armando’s extended family members have recently been killed in Mexico and Armando requested asylum on the grounds that he was afraid to go back to Mexico. Just recently his request was denied in a courtroom up near Buffalo, meaning that he will be sent back even as his wife and two children, who were born in US, remain behind.
Rabbi Brusso wrote the following in an article in which he described the lack of transparency that he witnessed surrounding the recent court case:
“For months we have been trying to tell his story to an immigration-enforcement system and asylum process not interested in hearing it. His family is being broken apart, his fears are going unheard, and he has spent months in detention. All of this has happened with grudging responsiveness and a stunning lack of transparency from our government.”
Rabbi Brusso then described the responsiveness of the community:
“In contrast to that indifference, our community of more than 500 families responded with love by bringing Armando’s family weekly meals, hiring an attorney, and calling the family daily. We didn’t hesitate to send two delegations to the border to walk Armando to a port of entry so he could seek asylum. We didn’t think twice about driving his teenage son to visit him in detention, where he has been for the past five months.”
I’m not sharing this story right now in order to enter into a debate about immigration, though such a debate is critically necessary and, like many people, I have strong views about how and why we should advocate for immigration reform. I’m sharing the story now because it shows how a community strongly, fiercely, compassionately, demonstrated how a Jew should live in the world when it come to ethical behavior.
If our children and grandchildren and nieces and nephews are watching us to see what are our priorities, what are our red lines, when it comes to rituals like how we celebrate, what we eat and how we pray, they are surely watching us to see, what are our priorities, what are our red lines, when it comes to how we treat other human beings.
Joseph, son of Jacob and Rachel, did not live in isolation from the rest of the world. To the contrary - he was fully entrenched in Egypt, the most advanced civilization of the time. He had an Egyptian name, he dressed and probably even walked like an Egyptian. His story, of how to navigate, how to channel the rituals and ethics of his people, how to embrace surrounding culture but not forget what it means to be a child of Israel, is our story.
When I said to the third and fourth graders, we Jews are part of the world, we don’t live on an island - of course a bunch of hands went up and a few students said, “actually we live on Long Island, Rabbi Stecker.”
And I explained to them what I meant, and of course you know what I mean. We don’t live in isolation.
We live very much connected to the world around us. And so, with Hanukkah upon us, the holiday of identity and dedication and personal and communal light - I ask us to consider the following:
Even as we dress like Americans and work like Americans and entertain ourselves like Americans, what are the practices and the values, the rituals and the ethics, that we will hold on to as Jews because that’s who we are, because that’s who we are meant to be, because that’s who the world needs us to be?
Let’s think about all of that. In addition to wanting to do what’s right in the moment, we should also remember that generations already born and as yet unborn are watching.
Originally delivered at Temple Israel of Great Neck on December 1, 2018
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