Remarks at the Solidarity Vigil at the Denver Islamic Center Following the Shooting in New Zealand

Our God and God of all Humanity. 

We come here today to express our grief in the aftermath of the tragic and horrific act of terror that took place less than 48 hours ago in Christchurch, NZ. 

Our hearts are broken as we think about the violence and hatred that stole away the lives of at least 50 precious souls who did nothing other than come to a sacred house of prayer to worship on their holiest day.  We grieve with their spouses and parents, their children, family and friends who will have to deal  with this senseless act of violence and terror for the rest of their lives. 

For Members of the Jewish community, today is also a holy day. We have come here-some who have walked long distances in observance of the Shabbat- because we know the pain, the fear, the anguish of being targeted. 

Four and a half months ago, our synagogue- Temple Emanuel- was filled to overflowing - just as this holy Mazjid is also filled- with people of every faith, skin color and creed. The aftermath of the tragedy in Pittsburgh-showed members of the Jewish community that we are bound together with our sisters and brothers in the Muslim, Christian, Hindu, Sikh, Buddhist and every other religious tradition in solidarity as we confront the evil of racism and intolerance. 

We pray that the God of Abraham and Ishmael, of Moses and Muhammad (Peace be upon him), of Jesus and Buddha of everyone who sees the holiness implanted with all humanity might inspire every human heart with compassion and determination to end our potential for hurt and see the good within all of us. 

We come together in peace. 

We come together in love. 

We pray that our next gathering will not be the result of violence- but a promise of hope.

‏עושה שלום בימרומיו, הוא יעשה שלום עלינו ועל כל יושבי תבל. 

May the One who makes peace in places far beyond our understanding, send peace to us and all humankind -and let us say, amen.

Thoughts on Representative Omar’s AIPAC Comments.

Representative Ilhan Omar (D-MN) recently was caught up in a firestorm of controversy when she tweeted remarks that were critical of AIPAC and the State of Israel. That is her right to do. And yet, many people (including me) believe that she crossed a line when she insinuated that AIPAC “buys” elected official with donations and that we need to “follow the Benjamins” to understand the Israel Lobby's considerable clout in Washington. This was not the first time that the Minnesota Congresswoman has been called out for controversial anti-Israel and potentially anti-Semitic comments. Social media sites have been flooded with both denunciations and defenses of her words.

While I do not share Ms. Omar’s positions in regard to Israel and AIPAC, I will defend her right to criticize. But in this case, she has gone too far. Her use of medieval anti-Semitic canards about Jews, money and dual loyalty have no place in US political discourse and are a great source of concern to me and many others in the American Jewish Community. 

To her credit, Rep Omar – after being rebuked from both sides of the political aisle - has offered an apology for her insensitivity and stated that she is grateful to those who pointed out the history of the bigoted tropes she referenced in her hurtful tweets. I have many friends in Minnesota who are leaders of the Jewish community and, up until this point, have tolerated her and believe that she is not an enemy. They are looking forward to a frank and intense dialogue in the wake of her insensitive  comments and subsequent apology. I look forward to hearing more from them about her desire and ability to learn and grow.

Current political conflagrations aside, the Omar controversy and the massive response it has generated has exposed ugliness from multiple sources. The growing anti-Semitism from the Far Left has been well documented. The disturbing convergence of intersectionality and anti-Israel rhetoric has made it difficult for those who are both proud Zionists and supporters of a centrist or center-left agenda to find their place. The recent calls for BDS[i], coupled with attacks on Israel, Zionism, and Jewish supporters at protest rallies around the country have instilled a sense of unease among many Jews who feel that their support of a just, Democratic and secure Jewish State is not welcome by their former peers. In addition, a new generation of young Jews are disillusioned by what they perceive to be out-dated knee-jerk support of Israel. Their anger and apathy are perfect targets for anti-Zionist propaganda.

The Far Right has also been strengthened by the tone set from the highest offices in our land. Racist language is commonplace. Islamophobia is rampant. Careless and incendiary missives on social media have emboldened angry bigots. When immigrants and Muslims are demonized, the Jews are never far behind. The horrific tragedy of the slaughter at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh can be directly traced to a feeling of empowerment by those who, until recently, have lived in the shadows of society. It is both ironic and frightening that the language of the Far Right and the Extreme Left is eerily similar when it comes to demonizing both Zionism, the Jewish people and all who don’t fit into a pre-conceived notion of a White Christian America that does not exist.

In regard to criticizing the State of Israel, let me be very clear. There are many reasons to be upset about the current Israeli government. Prime Minister Netanyahu has used fear-mongering, protectionism and racist tactics to hold on to power. His Far-Right coalition partners have demonized Liberal Judaism and alienated many in the American Jewish Community. In addition, his apparent abandonment of the Peace Process in favor of isolating and ignoring the Palestinian people’s legitimate desire for a homeland has led to increased tensions, conflict and war. 

But that is only half of the complex equation of the modern State of Israel. The Jewish State faces multiple relentless foes who are determined to destroy her through any means possible. Over the past 71 years, Israel has had no choice but to defend herself – and she has paid dearly in lives lost and ruined. Peace seems far away from the realm of possibility. As a result, the Israeli Left is a shadow of its former self. It is easy for me to be critical from my position of safety and comfort in Denver, CO. It is quite another thing to live every day with the awareness that it is only through military power and strategic alliances – particularly with the United States – that Israel can survive.

In this era of sound-bite diplomacy, it is vitally important for all of us to look deeply at how we are both manipulated by and participate in the usage of salacious and provocative language. There are times – such as the case of Rep. Omar – when we must speak out and condemn blatant falsehoods. But, as I have learned over the years, it is as – if not more important to teach – by words and deeds – our values of inclusivity, social justice and Tikkun[ii].

It is my prayer that Rep Omar and the critics on both the Right and the Left might attempt to learn more about the complexity of the Middle East before they condemn. In this way, the suffering on all sides might be lessened.

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[i] Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions (against Israel).

[ii] Repairing the world.

Searching For God in the Legislature - Opening Prayer at the CO State House - February 7, 2019

Our God and God of all people:

God of the rich and God of the poor.
God of the haves and God of the hopeless.
God of the frightened and God of the fearless.
God of our certainties and God of our doubts…..
Throughout the Centuries men and women have sought your presence.  They have asked:   Where are You, God?
Some of us can find You in our churches, synagogues, mosques and Temples.
Some of us can feel Your presence in our sacred halls of governance.
Some of us catch glimpses of Your caring in the flotsam and jetsam of our daily lives:

·        in the faces of our loved ones

·        in the beauty of art and music

·        in the ever-changing majesty of the mountains that stir us with reflections of both immanence and transcendence

·        in the hopes of those who have sent these elected officials to sit in these assigned seats

·        Even in the scribbled margins of the pages stacked neatly on these desks.....You are here - now…If we but look with intention

You are present in moments of supreme Joy.
We long for You in times of shock and sorrow
We find You in our certainty and even in our doubts
Some of us ask if You are necessary.

·        Some deny Your existence – and yet live lives filled with meaning, purpose and value.

·        And others claim to know You intimately – to represent You - but whose actions and prejudices make a mockery of Your holiness.

Throughout history, we have looked to You to provide hope, courage and compassion for all Your creatures.
On this day of deliberation, we pray that those who seek meaning and purpose in their lives and through their work will find you in the potential to make a difference in their actions.
At this moment filled with possibility, may Your presence guide even those who do not seek You.
We pray that you might be present to those who labor on behalf of our community.
We pray that You might be found in the relationships that are forged within these chambers.
Thank you for all Your blessings.
AMEN.

Remarks at the first "Faithful Tuesday" at the Colorado State Capital

Yesterday, I spoke at the first of what will be weekly gatherings at the Colorado State Capital.  Entitled "Faithful Tuesdays," these will consist of leaders of Colorado Faith Communities coming together to pray for, advocate on behalf of and address vitally important imbalances in our State. This interfaith effort is sponsored by a wide variety of faith organizations and communities.  Here is what I said about the issue of creating a "Moral Economy."  
For more information about "Faithful Tuesdays," click here.

As people of faith we see the world from the prism of relationships.  This means that we believe the following:

·    We are created in the image of a benevolent creator

·    We have free will

·    We live in community

All of our lives are connected and, as a result:

·    We are responsible for one another

·    Our responsibility does not end at the doorsteps of our homes, our places of worship or the voting booth

Our lives are intertwined – regardless of faith, race, gender, sexuality, political affiliation or creed.  As such, we are obligated to work for a society that is just, moral and equitable.

·    To state that we are people of faith means that we are obligated to see the holiness in every person created in the image of God.

·    To state that we are people of faith means that we are compelled and commanded to speak out when we see injustice.

·    To state that we are people of faith means that we cannot be silent when we see inequities in housing, employment, wages, healthcare, childcare and a myriad of other ills that plague our cities, states and nation.

In the Book of Deuteronomy, Chapter 16, verse 20, we find the Divine injunction:  Tzedek Tzedek Tirdof – Justice, Justice shall you pursue.  In my tradition, the ancient Rabbis asked the question:  Why is the word for “Justice” repeated twice?  One of the answers is to remind us that are many kinds of justice that need to be addressed. Some issues are beyond our control.  That does not mean that we cannot and should not attempt to rectify them. Economic injustices are the easiest to address because they are both caused by humans and can be solved by just and fair laws, practices and righteous indignation. The concept of a Moral Economy means that we have a responsibility to create an economic system that not only provides for growth and sustenance, but that also ensures that no one is excluded from sharing in the bounty of our society.

We come here today, on this first “Faithful Tuesday” not to demand change – but to state that we are willing and dedicated partners with people of good faith. We will work together to shine a light on the imbalances in our society. We will also support all efforts to bring balance and equality to the Great State of Colorado.

We are commanded by our Creator to partner with the Divine and one another to bring about change. The responsibility for making a difference does not begin and end with our elected officials – each of us must do our part.

Mishpatim and the Death Penalty

Rabbi Joseph R. Black

Temple Emanuel – Denver, CO

February 1, 2019

In this weeks’ Torah portion, Mishpatim, we are presented with laws about everything from:

·        The treatment of slaves,

·        The return of lost property,

·        Civil penalties for disputes,

·        Festival observance

·        Conquering the Land of Canaan

·        Dietary Laws

·        Sacrifices

We also learn, for the first time, that the Death Penalty can be levied in cases of:

·        Pre-meditated murder,

·        Matricide or Patricide, Kidnapping,

·        Insulting a parent,

·        Allowing an ox to gore another person

·        Bestiality

Tonight, I want to talk about how we, as a nation, view punishment – in particular, Capital punishment – the Death Penalty

Since our State Legislature will soon be taking up a bill to abolish the Death Penalty, it is an appropriate time to look at the issues surrounding Capital Punishment.  Let’s take a moment and talk about the Penal system in general:   Why and how do we punish?  What are the goals of having a prison system?

• ·        Is it to protect society?
• ·        Is it to provide justice to the victims?
• ·        Is it to deter crime?

Each situation is different.  As such, our justice system provides us with a wide variety of tools and options:  from monetary fines to community service, to prison time, to the ultimate punishment – the death penalty.

Our constitution guarantees against “Cruel and unusual punishment” so the sentencing given to the guilty must not be excessive or out of the ordinary.

I am opposed to the death penalty.  I find it immoral, inhumane and dangerous.

5 years ago, Reverend Jim Ryan and I wrote an op-ed [i]in response to then Governor Hickenlooper’s decision to stay the execution of the notorious murderer, Nathan Dunlap. We said, in part:

For us, as men of God and leaders of our congregations of Colorado faithful, it is deeply troubling that our state may move forward with the execution of Nathan Dunlap. Our calling to serve God involves a responsibility to seek justice, and we must be especially mindful of our role in supporting the poor and the weak, while advocating for fairness for all. Despite his terrible crime and the suffering he caused, we pray that Mr. Dunlap will receive executive clemency and will serve his life in prison without the possibility of parole.

I am not opposed to just punishment, or tough standards for violent and murderous criminals.  I am opposed to the death penalty – not because of what it does to the guilty – but what it does to all of us – you and me – here today and throughout our nation.

Ours is a society in which violence is becoming so commonplace that the threshold for events which shock, which give us pause, which cause us to cry out in horror at the inhumanity of humanity is constantly on the rise.

Murder is commonplace - both on our streets, in our homes, and in our prisons. 

The death penalty, some might argue, is a deterrent -  a way to show that we are in control of the most dangerous elements in our society.  It is not.

The death penalty, some might argue, is the ultimate form of justice and punishment at our disposal.  It is not.

You see, I do not understand how one act of violence can possibly be a moral punishment for another act of violence.

We live in a violent society.  Everywhere we look  in the media – in the newspapers, on television,  on the internet we are confronted with evidence of human brutality.  This violence is reinforced through the ways that we entertain ourselves – the films, television shows, books and video games that grow more violent every day.

Compounding this phenomenon is the fact there is very little left today that is shocking.

Rabbi Harold Kushner writes the following:

"Once, there was magic and a sense of mystery in our lives.  Once (in our childhood and in the childhood of the human race) there were places that were unlike all other places, and moments in time that were different from ordinary time.  They added color, texture, and excitement to our lives.  But today no place is off limits to human ingenuity.  WE have become so good at unraveling mysteries that few things still mystify us, and in the process we may have become the people to whom the late philosopher Joseph Campbell addressed this warning:  'When you get to be older and the concerns of the day have been attended to, and you turn to the inner life - well, if you don't know where it is or what it is, you'll be sorry.'

We have largely lost the capacity for reverence, the sense of awe that comes from realizing how much greater God is than we are.  We have lost it, paradoxically, because the twentieth century teaches us both how great we are and how small we are."^[1]

We have become immune not only to the beauty and wonder that surrounds us, but also to the ugliness and evil that, unfortunately, pervade our everyday lives.   It is not our “…capacity for reverence…”  that is being lost, but our ability to be shocked as well.

The fact that the United States of America is the only Democratic country in which Capital Punishment is permitted……

The fact that other nations that share our penchant for ultimate vengance include Bangladesh, Botswana, China, Egypt, Iran, Iraq, , Jordon, Kuwait, Libya, North Korea, Malaysia, Morocco, , Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Singapore, Sudan, Syria, Thailand, Tunisia, United Arab Emirates, United States, Vietnam and Yemen…..

The fact that over half of those on death row are people of color, though they represent only 20% of the country’s population……

The fact that nearly half of those executed in the last two decades have been people of color, with blacks alone accounting for 38%. All told, 82% have been put to death for the murder of a white person. Only 3% were white people who had been convicted of killing people of African, Asian or Hispanic descent…...

These facts should give us pause…….And yet – they don’t.  We don’t even think about them.  We turn aside from the injustice of our current system in order to ignore our current reality in favor of a belief that Capital punishment somehow brings us justice, closure, deterrence….

My friends, the truth is that the death penalty is legally sanctioned murder - nothing more and nothing less.

There are those who may argue that the Bible does not prohibit Capital Punishment.  This is true - to a point.   And yet, as Judaism has evolved over the centuries, we have also developed a reticence to  impose the death penalty.  The Rabbis of old  made it practically impossible to impose the death penalty.  In the 70 year history of the State of Israel only one person has ever been executed by a court of law - Adolph Eichman - the architect of Hitler’s Final Solution and even that execution was hotly debated within the courts and around the kitchen tables of every citizen in the Jewish State.

For me, the central issue is truly none of the above.   For me the issue of Capital punishment revolves not around how we see the most evil elements of society - but how we perceive ourselves. Are we going to allow our fear of crime, our desire for vengeance, our BOTTOM LINE mentality to govern how we conduct ourselves?  Capital punishment is a quick fix - it may be popular with the voters – it may make some of us feel good - or politicians look good as they get tough on crime  - but ultimately, I believe that it lessens our own humanity when we take the life of another person.

Those who have committed atrocities need to be punished.  They cannot be a part of a civilized society.  But, I firmly believe, one of the prices of being “civilized” is taking on a responsibility to act in a way that is consistent with our own internal holiness.

All religious traditions teach that one day humanity will be judged.  I believe that our judgment  will not merely revolve around how we treated the best elements of our society – but how we treated the worst elements of our society.  There is evil in the world.  There are predators and murderers among us who deserve to be separated and cut off from society.  For some there can be no rehabilitation.  And yet, the price we pay for living in a civilized, moral society, is living with the fact that we cannot totally eliminate this evil.  But we can assert that we – as a society will not allow ourselves to stoop to their level.  We will not allow ourselves to become murderers as well.

In the book of Genesis we learn that we are all created in the Image of God.  There is a spark of holiness inside every human being. All life is holy - even that of the most damaged and evil members of our society. When we take a life - whether that life has committed murder or not - we are diminishing the image of God.  Yes, the murderer has done the same - but the fact that we claim to be a moral society calls us to rise above our desire for vengeance and understand that one act of murder does not make up for another.

Killing human beings can never be justified as a just punishment for who are we to act in God’s stead?

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     ^[1]Kushner, Harold.  Who Needs God. p.51

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[i] Here is the text:  https://rabbijoeblack.blogspot.com/2013/05/denver-post-op-ed-in-opposition-to.html

Remarks at 2018 Interfaith Thanksgiving Service 11-22-18. Temple Emanuel - Denver, CO

Dear Friends:

Happy Thanksgiving!

I want to begin my remarks this morning with a very old story that many of you have probably heard….. but just in case you haven’t, it’s worth repeating.

There once was a Jewish man who was shipwrecked on a desert island for 10 years. One day, as he gazed out into the horizon, he saw a ship heading his way. He quickly built a bonfire to signal his location. Luckily, his signal was seen, and the ship sent out a rescue party.

The Captain of the ship himself accompanied the rescuers and the man greeted him with great joy. “Before we leave the island,” he asked his rescuer, “would you like a tour of the city I built?”  “Of course,” said the captain and he was amazed when he saw all that the man had created.

“Here is my home,” he said – pointing to a beautiful ranch complete with driveway and immaculately shaped hedges.

“Amazing!’ said the captain.

“And here is the school. And the power plant. And the Gym and the grocery store…”

The marooned man showed the ship captain beautiful building after beautiful building. When they came to the center of the town, the man turned to the tallest and most beautiful structure of them all. “Here,” he said, “is the most important building of all:  My synagogue!”

It truly was a wonder to behold. It had stained glass windows and gorgeous stonework. There was a large religious school and a beautifully landscaped lawn. There was even a cellphone tower in the parking lot.

“This is unbelievable!” said the captain. “But what is that building across the street?” – pointing to a smaller, but no less impressive edifice with a Jewish Star adorning the portico.

“That?” said the shipwrecked man with a tone of disdain.  “That is the Synagogue that I would never set foot inside of!”

 I’ve actually heard that joke told about a Methodist and a Presbyterian as well….but no matter. It rings true. There’s something about human nature that craves and eventually creates conflict – even when there is no logical rationale for doing so. We tend to find ways to isolate the “others” in our lives.

In Jewish tradition, each week we read a portion of scripture – starting in the book of Genesis and moving through Deuteronomy. Jews all over the world read the portion – regardless of where they live or how they worship.
When we finish reading the last of the books – when Moses dies at the edge of the promised land, we immediately begin reading about the Creation of the world. There is no pause, no break – because learning never ends.

This week’s Torah portion from the Book of Genesis is called Vayishlach. It begins with the story of how Jacob prepares to meet his brother, Esau and wrestles with a mysterious stranger until daybreak. He emerges victorious, but limping from his battle.  He is given a new name, Israel – meaning the one who struggles with God.

But before Jacob encounters the stranger, he says the following prayer:

Genesis 32:11  “I am unworthy of all of the kindnesses you have so steadfastly shown to your servant.  With my staff alone I have crossed the Jordan, and now I have become two camps.”

Two camps. Interesting choice of words, no? This could refer to the fact that Jacob, in preparation for confronting his estranged brother, Esau, has literally divided his family and possessions in two - just in case Esau attacks one camp – at the very least, the other can survive.

But it also can be interpreted as an example of Jacob’s success. In other words, what Jacob is saying, in essence, is: “God, when I started out on this journey – all I had was my walking stick. Now look at me:  successful, wealthy, with a large family and entourage.” And yet – as prosperous and blessed as he is, he still needs to confront his past. He awaits his brother Esau whom he has not seen since he cheated him out of his birthright. Jacob, at the height of his success, still struggles with the division that is both within him and around him.

This is an important concept for us to consider – not only at this Thanksgiving service – but also at a moment when we, as a nation, like Jacob, are so bitterly divided. I cannot recall another time in my adult life when the passions that are inflamed by our differences have cause so much anger, bitterness and division.

Divisiveness and conflict are not all bad – they are a part of human nature. Researchers have shown that conflict can be an important part of creativity and productivity. And yet, if not held in check, those same creative forces that propel us forward can also be dangerous and destructive. I firmly believe that recent rhetoric from our highest elected officials has fanned the flames of hatred and racism that lie just beneath the surface of society – waiting for an opportunity to break forth. This was especially evident in the lead up to and aftermath of our midterm elections.

Three and a half weeks ago, at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh, a gunman opened fire on worshippers at a Saturday morning service. One day before Pittsburgh, a lone gunman opened fire at African American patrons of a Grocery store in Jeffersontown Kentucky after he was unable to access a local black church. Countless other shootings motivated by hatred and bigotry have taken place in our nation. And we do nothing. The death and destruction that these events have caused are byproducts of our divisions.  Words that not so long ago would have been instantly condemned by every decent sector of our nation are ignored or, even worse, amplified by the angry rhetoric of those who cynically manipulate fear to further their political or personal goals.

And today we come together – celebrating a festival whose message is the antithesis of hatred. Thanksgiving is a time for focusing on the blessings that we, as a nation and as individuals have received during the past year.

Giving Thanks is essential – but it’s not enough. It’s too easy to share a feast and put words to those things for which we are thankful, but if our words of appreciation are not accompanied by meaningful action, we abdicate our responsibility, as people created in the image of God, to bring godliness into the world. In times of darkness, we need to shine the light on the fearmongering, hypocrisy and bigotry that manifests itself in the chaos of divisiveness.

In the aftermath of the Tree of Life synagogue shootings, our community joined with thousands of other communities across our nation– and indeed around the world - as we convened in a solidarity vigil – here in our sanctuary. Just as we sit here today – from multiple faith traditions, every inch of space in this sacred place was filled. Over 3,000 souls spilled into the aisles, and stood against the walls.  Many of you were here. You filled our hallways and our overflow social hall seats when there was no more room. Jews, Muslims, Christians, Sikhs, Mormons, members of the LGBTQ community, elected officials, police officers and firefighters, people of multiple genders, ages, economic and political backgrounds came here because they  - YOU - needed to be here.  We wanted – desperately – not only to show solidarity with Pittsburgh and every other place where violence and ugliness reared their heads – but to be present with others who were as shocked, frightened and yes, angry as we were. Even though we all came from different backgrounds, we were all united in our determination to not allow hatred to define us; and to find the holiness – the godliness that is implanted within all of us.

The most important lesson that we can take home with us on this Thanksgiving is to strive to see that holiness – that godliness - in every person we meet – even in those with whom we disagree. We must embrace our differences – not be threatened by them. This is our sacred task at this most quintessential of American holidays: to celebrate and dedicate our actions so that we can inoculate ourselves from the evil that threatens to infiltrate into our daily discourse. If we leave this service feeling thankful – that is good, but not good enough. For thanks without acknowledgement of the need to make change is empty. May our prayers and fellowship propel us to see the holiness and the ugliness that surrounds us on all sides.

I want to conclude with a song that I wrote a few years ago. As you will recall, Moses ascends Mt. Sinai and encounters a bush that is burning but is not consumed. Our rabbis asked a question:  How did Moses know that the bush was not being consumed?  He had to stare at it for a long time before he could see that he was in the presence of a miracle. The text in Exodus says that Moses “turned aside to look at this marvel.” The act of turning – of looking for holiness in ourselves, our surroundings and those around us – is the best way for us to give thanks and see God’s presence all around us. And when holiness cannot be found – we are tasked with working to perfect this all too imperfect world in which we are blessed to live.

(YouTube Link:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R9v8TE-jCfQ)

The God In Me

Words and Music ©

Rabbi Joe Black – 2018

Moses on a mountain saw a bush that was all aflame

He turned aside to look then he heard God call his name

It wasn’t till he took the time for turning that he could see that the bush was burning

And that was when he found his destiny

We all need to learn to turn around ,just so we can see

The wonders that lay in our path, the God in you, the God in me

Huddled on a freeway ramp with a battered cardboard sign

She’s hungry, scared and homeless she hasn’t got a dime

The drivers in their cloistered cars pretend that they don’t see

They’re too afraid to turn their head and feel her misery

We all need to take the time to turn our heads and see

The ugliness that’s in our path, the God in you, the God in me

We turn away - We turn within

We hate to lose - We have to win

But if you turn - Turn  to see

The God in you  -The God in me.

We're always in a hurry can't afford to waste the time

Our heads are filled with worry we see every missed deadline

The rewards of all our labor we believe will set us free

When working is our passion we can forsake our family

We all need to learn to take the time to turn around and see

The loving that is in our lives, the God in you, the God in me

Solidarity Shabbat After the Pittsburgh Tragedy

Parashat Chaye Sarah

Rabbi Joseph R. Black, Temple Emanuel – Denver, CO

November 2, 2018

Where were you last Saturday?

How did you hear about the tragic events that took place in Pittsburgh?

I was sitting in our Chapel, celebrating the Bat Mitzvah of a wonderful young girl when my Apple Watch started to buzz frantically with texts from colleagues, family members and concerned congregants. I normally do not respond to text messages in the middle of a service – unless I am texting our Executive Director Steve Stark to tell him that it’s too hot or too cold in the chapel….  This time I stepped out and looked at the news.

When I saw that there was a mass shooting at a Synagogue, my blood ran cold. While the final tally of destruction had not yet been posted at that time, it was clear that what was taking place was going to be horrific and life-changing for the American Jewish community.  During the service, I briefly shared what news I had learned to those present. When we took out the Shoah Scroll and told the story of its journey from Kolin, to a warehouse in Prague, to the Westminster Synagogue in London, England, and eventually here to Temple Emanuel – where it was placed in the very ark that where it began– and ended up as the spiritual center or our congregation – the raw emotions that I was experiencing were shared by everyone in our chapel.

And so now we sit – one week later – after so many things have transpired: here in our community and around the country. In a little more than 24 hours after news of the shooting reached us, our community rallied and together with the ADL, Jewish Colorado and the Rocky Mountain Rabbinical Council, we put together a Solidarity Vigil in which over 3,000 souls came together in this sanctuary – and overflowing into our foyer and Social Hall. To see representatives from the Christian, Muslim and Sikh communities joining together on our Bema - along with the leadership of our city and State and Federal government and law enforcement was overwhelming. The tears that flowed, the powerful words that were shared, the anger angst and love combined with grief that filled our sacred space provided a necessary space and time to process and express our feelings. In the days following the Vigil, we have received hundreds of calls, letters, flowers, emails and visits from well-wishers from multiple communities who wanted to show their love and support to the Jewish people. Truly, this is a time of both horror and wonder as we have witnessed both the worst and the best of humanity coming together at one and the same time.

Even though the last of the funerals for the victims of this shooting was today, Jews around the world have been mourning since we received word of this horror. In Jewish tradition, after 7 days of mourning, we symbolically rise from our mourning and conclude Shiva. This Shabbat, we join with synagogues around the world as we come together in our grief and solidarity to remember our dead, recite the mourner’s kaddish and look ahead to the future.

As I thought about what I might say tonight at this service, I looked into this week’s Torah portion, Chaye Sarah. 

Like many portions in the book of Genesis, Chaye Sarah has multiple stories that are woven into the narrative.   It begins with the death of Sarah and ends with the death of Abraham.  Abraham purchases the cave of Machpelah in Hebron.  He then sends his servant to Canaan to find a wife for Isaac. At the end of the parasha, Abraham dies.  

Our text reads as follows:

Genesis 25:8-10:  “Then Abraham passed on, and died in a good old age, an old man, and full of years; and was gathered to his people. And his sons Isaac and Ishmael buried him in the cave of Machpelah, in the field of Ephron the son of Zohar the Hittite, which is before Mamre; The field which Abraham purchased from the Hittites; there was Abraham buried, and Sarah his wife.”

One of the most remarkable aspects of this text is the fact that Isaac and Ishmael bury their father together.  If you recall, the last we have heard of Ishmael was when Abraham sent him and his mother, Hagar, out into the wilderness because Sarah did not want Ishmael to be a threat to Isaac and his eventual birthright.  Abraham had scarred Ishmael by casting him away.  He also had scarred Isaac by almost slaughtering him on Mt. Moriah.

Abraham’s death unites these two brothers.  They both understand pain.  They both understand loss.  They both realize that, no matter what events have taken place in their lives, they are bound together by a common task and purpose.

Isaac and Ishmael had cause to hate their father –and to hate each other.   The Midrash, in particular is filled with stories of their warfare.  Yet, at the end of our parasha they come together in peace in order to bury Abraham. They realize that, despite their history, they are linked together. In burying Abraham, they are also symbolically burying the past and moving ahead to the future.

If there is anything that we can learn from this horrible tragedy, it may be found in the outpouring of love and solidarity that we experienced on Sunday.  I truly believe that is a reflection of the best that our nation has to offer. So much of the language we are hearing is divisive; the politics of isolationism and victimization have taken a toll on our souls. Especially in the days leading up to November 6 – election day-  everyone is on edge. To see people from multiple communities coming together to show their love and support in the shadow of terror is both an affirmation of what we, as a nation are all about and a powerful reflection of how we, like Isaac and Ishmael, can rise up above our divisions in solidarity and celebrate the awareness that we are all created in the image of God.

Tonight is November 2th. In one week, November 9^th, 2018, we will be commemorating the 80^th Anniversary of Kristallnacht – the night of the Broken Glass.  Kristallnacht was the beginning of the end of European Jewry.

On that night, 80 years ago, Nazi thugs burned synagogues and destroyed Jewish businesses throughout Germany and Austria.  Jews were beaten publicly in the streets.  Men were rounded up and sent to concentration camps.  Hitler and his thugs waited to see what the reaction would be from world leaders.  The deafening silence that ensued in the shadow of terror was a clear sign to the Nazis that they had a green light to take whatever steps they wanted to rid the world of the “Jewish problem.”

My mother and her parents lived through Krystallnacht.  They were among the lucky ones.  One month later they were able to get a visa out of Germany and immigrate to the United States.

The memory of that night of terror is indelibly linked into the consciousness of our people. From the pain and horror of November 9th and the darkness and evil that it spawned, we have emerged - wounded, yet determined to honor the memory of those who perished in the Shoah and rebuild our lives, our people and our homeland.

Like Isaac and Ishmael – we were and are united by our grief and our loss.

If we can survive and thrive in the aftermath of that historical and spiritual darkness, how much the more so are we obligated to persevere in the shadow of the Tree of Life Synagogue massacre?

Let us have no illusions. The battle against evil is not over. The haters who have become emboldened in recent months will not disappear overnight. They will lie beneath the surface as they always have – waiting for the next opportunity to strike. We must remain vigilant and defiant. We know that though there are those who seek to use violence fear and intimidation to accomplish their ends – we, as a people and nation must never allow hatred to determine the path along which we walk together.

Now is a time to come together and find unity in our historical memory and the vision of a world that , while incomplete, awaits for each of us to use our talents, strengths and faith to perfect God’s Creation.

We owe it to ourselves.        

We owe it to the memory of those who are no longer with us

We owe it to our nation to move on from our divisions and focus on ways that we can work to perform the mitzvah of Tikkun Olam – of repairing our all too imperfect world.

Zichronam Livracha – may the memory of the righteous be for an eternal blessing. AMEN