Dear Friends,
Every Thursday, for the past
14 years, I have been honored to deliver the opening prayer at the Colorado House
of Reresentattives at the State Capital.
Walking into that historic building underneath the golden dome takes me
back to an earlier time. In addition to
the strict security measures in place, There are protocols and rules about
dress, behavior and civility. Certain
areas are off-limits and these restrictions are strictly enforced.
Visitors can enter the
chamber only when accompanied by an official. There are areas for the public
and places that are off limits for visitors. In many ways, parts of that chamber
have an extra level of sanctity – only the elected are allowed to be there. And
that actually feels right – giving the process of legislating an aura of
mystery and holiness
Now I know that adage about
those who like sausage should never watch it being made also applies to
politics – and, in the 14 years that I have been serving as a House Chaplain I
have witnessed a lot of chaos and ugliness - believe me! At the same time, I also have felt the presence of something else –
something filled with awe, tradition and sanctity. The rules rules and rituals of the state
capital help to ensure that the sometimes messy and sometimes ugly process of creating
legislation is held to a high standard.
In this weeks torah portion,
Pekude – we conclude the book of Exodus with the formal dedication of
the Mishkan.
WE read: (Exodus
40:34‑8)
The cloud covered the tent of meeting, and the
presence of God filled the Mishkan/sanctuary. Moses could not enter the tent of
meeting, because the cloud had settled on it and the presence of God filled the
mishkan. When the cloud lifted from the Mishkan, the Israelites would set out
on their various journeys; but if the cloud did not lift, they would not set
out until it did lift. For the cloud of God was over the Mishkan by day, and
fire would appear in it by night, in the view of all the house of Israel throughout
their journeys."
As I thought about these
dual images of the House floor and the dedication of the Mishkan, I realized
that they something in common: they both
dealt with being prevented from entering hallowed space.
·
In the Capital – you cannot enter the Senate or House Chambers
unless you are given permission
·
In the Mishkan – even Moses and Aaron could not enter if God was present - as represented by the pillars of both fire and clouds.
Now I’m not saying that this
is wrong or improper. On the
contrary. These institutions, by
definition, are unique and holy BECAUSE of the limitations placed upon them.
There are times when it is
vitally important to restrict access to places and position. But there are also times when restrictions
are not only inappropriate, but they are also immoral – especially when they
are used to deny basic human and civil rights to members of society based on
criteria such as race, gender, religion, political affiliation, immigration
status, or sexual orientation.
As Jews, we know all too
well the implications of such restrictions.
Most of us are not old enough to remember the feeling of being excluded
from certain neighborhoods, organizations or Universities because of the fact
that we are Jews – but the truth is, we are not talking about ancient history. Exclusionary covenants, racist organizations, and denials of rights should be a relic of a dangerous and shameful period in our history. But unfortunately, they are
alive and well – sometimes under the radar, and, increasingly in plain sight.
I cannot tell you how many
times I – and every member of our clergy team – during the past three months -
have been approached by members of our congregation and others who are experiencing fear and insecurity as they watch powerful leaders of our government
taking steps to deny them basic rights. Whether they are LGBTQ+, immigrants, government
employees, educators, medical professionals or those dependent on Medicare, Medicaid or social security, the ramped-up rhetoric of exclusion and
condemnation coming from the current administration is alarming.
Now the rhetoric we see around
combatting anti-Semitism is problematic.
On the one hand, it’s hard to protest against efforts to seemingly
protect Jews – especially those on college campuses – from anti-Semitic and
anti-Zionist attacks. On the other hand, combatting Jew hatred by
limiting the rights of others seems incongruous and antithetical to our Jewish
values. I fear that Jews are being used as pawns to further an agenda of
intolerance and persecution. History has taught us that our people never fare
well in these types of environments.
A few weeks ago, someone
came into my office whom I had never met before and asked if I could help them
make Aliyah to Israel. I asked them if
they had ever been to Israel. No – they hadn’t.
I asked why they wanted to make such a radical change in their lives. The answer was chilling. The person who sat
in my office was a transgender woman who had a Jewish mother. She had never been involved in the Jewish community and was
functionally illiterate in terms of Jewish history, tradition or culture – but
she knew that, under the current Law of Return, she could become an Israeli
citizen. She was afraid for herself and her (non-Jewish) partner. She felt that
it was safer for them both – as a trans people– to move to a country that was
in the middle of a war – than to stay here in the United States and face
whatever new laws and policies that may be introduced.
The draconian and dangerous pronouncements
of this government increasingly seem to be based on exclusion, fear mongering, revenge,
and attempts to control how we think, speak, love and interact with one another.
Overnight, we are moving from a society where the values of caring and social responsibility
- here and around the world - are being torn down and replaced by intolerance
and persecution. It is rapidly becoming clear that, for those who do not fit a
narrow definition of proper beliefs and behaviors, there is little room for acceptance.
My friends – this is
antithetical to all that we, as Jews, believe and practice. I say these words – not from a political
perspective, but, rather in light of the Jewish values and principles that
underpin our faith and are the backbone of Judaism and Temple Emanuel. A few
weeks ago, our clergy team presented a matrix
of Jewish values around which we would try to decide when, how and in what
forums we would comment on current events.
Here is a link to that document. (Click HERE.) Judaism teaches us that every person – no
matter who they are, where they come from, who they love or how they love –
even when we disagree – is created in the image of God and is sacred.
This concept is antithetical
to so many of the recent actions of this government and, I must share with you
– I am very worried.
In Pekude, we
conclude the book of Exodus. The Mishkan is erected and God’s presence dwells
among the people. One of the key figures
in the story of the creation of the Mishkan is Bezalel – the chief architect
and builder of this sacred structure. Bezalel has a very important pedigree. He
is lifted up by both God and Moses and comes from the tribe of Judah – the most
prosperous and important of all of the 12 tribes.
But there is another figure who also was essential to the creation of the Mishkan. Rabbi Andy Gordon – from Baltimore – writes how
“…the Torah also mentions another individual, almost equally
important to this project, Oholiab, son of Ahisamach, from the tribe of Dan.
The tribe of Dan is the smallest, least powerful and least respected tribe. Why
would the Torah recommend Oholiab to be by Bezalel’s side throughout this
endeavor? Why does the Torah make such a point of mentioning that Oholiab comes
from the smallest and least powerful tribe?
Our rabbis teach that
exceptional talent is not restricted to one group of people. Indeed, God’s
insistence on bringing a person from the largest and smallest tribes serves as
a reminder that all should be involved, not just the powerful or the
prosperous. More importantly, we should not let our assumptions get in the way
of our work. We must say goodbye to all our stereotypes, so that all are able
to prove themselves by the talents they possess[i].”
As our nation continues on a
pathway of exclusion and persecution, it is incumbent upon us to push back and
let our voices be heard on behalf of those who are being pushed to the margins
and excluded. Those who are working to end equality and inclusion see
themselves as being like Moses and Aaron – the only ones with access to the most
sacred of spaces. This is not who we are. This is not who we can become.
Shabbat shalom.
