The tension between generations continues. It was embodied in this Cat Stevens /Yusef Islam music, Father & Son, that resonated so deeply for me them and now.
“There is a better place, a promised land…There is no way we get from here to there except by joining hands, marching together.” (Mishkan Tefillah, p.39)
June 19th is celebrated in American history as the date when the slaves were freed (it actually was the day when Union Troops entered Texas to enforce the final ending of slavery on June 19, 1865, three years after Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation of Sept 22, 1862). Juneteenth, as it is known, remains an aspiration. Today, in this special moment in time we find so much of America is still unfulfilled; Ideals yet to be achieved, dreams yet to realized. America was the Promised Land for so many, but the promise is a work in progress, a distant goal for far too many.
On this Juneteenth let us affirm our commitment to make this special place one that extends ideals of equal justice, liberty, and equality to everyone. It is a long road ahead, but it is a journey worth traveling.
Find a group that promotes our sacred values such as the ADL, the ACLU, the Innocence Project, Repairers of the Breach, and support them. Learn how to help create the changes to make our society juster and fairer for all. Celebrate Freedom on Juneteenth and every day thereafter.
Like so many, I am frustrated. In large measure, I am frustrated with myself. It is me who needs the work. Privilege, whiteness, racist and similar words or phrases can be jingoistic, masquerading in a cloak of empathy. They really have no weight until I confront who I am with honesty and vulnerability. I have struggled with what I can only describe as our own hypocrisy; far too often we preach and we teach, but we do not fully live the Jewish values we espouse. How could this not be at the forefront of everything I do for as long as I have been doing it? What took me so long, why now? I think back at those interesting words at the beginning of Exodus: And God heard their cry and remembered the Covenant God made. What took God so long? There were 400 years of suffering and oppression. What took God so long?
It does not assuage my guilt to take solace in the human time it took God. Despite knowing I cannot change the past, I struggle with how I affect the future. This only adds to the frustration of knowing I have not done enough to bring us farther along. And do I really believe in what I proclaim?
Do I have the fortitude and courage to look deep within and grapple with who I am and what I must do to change? Only then will I be whole enough to join in the battle that our society and humanity as a whole must wage to create the world I profess to believe in. Will I cross over or find contentment on this side in my narrow but for the most part comfortable space.
We have had opportunities before. We have moved forward, slowly, haltingly, stumbling often one step forward and two steps back. In actuality, we have lived with the opportunities to make change continuously. What makes this moment different? Will I be like Nachshon, wading deliberately into the unknown Sea of Reeds or be one of those longing for the land of Goshen, that narrow harsh place, whose evils are known but tempered by our thoughts of powerlessness?
Prescriptions are being bandied about. Some might be curative and others little more than a bandage. Everywhere there are now lists of things proposing changes ostensibly serving to right society’s wrongs. How could these lists be created so quickly? Seeing these in the immediate aftermath of George Floyd’s murder makes me wonder if the answers been known all along. This would imply either the problem is not that complicated or we did not have the strength to enact these prescriptions. We need to ask ourselves which it is. Or is the problem so deep and thorny as to render it all but impossible to unravel? And we have left the status quo because we are overwhelmed at the enormity of the issue. At this moment in time are we willing to find out? Will this time different from all of the other times? Am I up to the challenge?
We still believe that there is a better place, a promised land, and the way there is through the wilderness. There is no way for us to get from here to there, except by joining hands, marching together. (Mishkan Tefillah, adapted)
If you can, be at the rally in New York this Sunday to express solidarity as a first step toward achieving the values that are at the center of Judaism and America. Together as the Jewish community of the United States with all others of goodwill, we will overcome forces of hatred and bigotry. There is much work to be done and miles to go before we sleep. Together we can get there.
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
By Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
The Priestly Blessing is a message of hope in a troubled world. We have long wondered about the Priestly Blessing being placed in Parshat Naso. Many have posited it was out of place, belonging instead in Leviticus (9:22) when Aaron is told to bless the people. But I believe it is placed here purposefully as a message of assurance, to make sure we understand how important we are to each other and to the Almighty.
Naso contains a census of the Tribe of Gershon, the extraordinary stories of the Sotah, a test for the unfaithful wife, and the issues surrounding the intense vows of becoming a Nazirite. And only then do we read the Priestly Blessing; The three-line expansive blessing upon each of us that God protects us, is kind to us, and grants peace to us. It is actually the perfect response to the perplexing and difficult issues that preceded.
We are told we count. That was central in the previous Parsha, BeMidbar, and reiterated as the census to count the Gershonites. But then we are confronted with the Sotah and the Nazirite, as if to ask are there times when we do not count. We all struggle with life. We seek God’s blessings, we seek meaning, we seek good things, namely peace and a good life. But we find ourselves going off the rails. When this happens are we cut off from God’s blessing?
The Sotah is about accusations of infidelity. But in the absence of anything but circumstantial evidence, the magical test is administered by the Priest. The gravitas of this must be overwhelming. But even if a woman survived the test, would her husband fully welcome her home, without harboring some suspicions. Would trust ever be restored fully? Would others in the community maintain lingering doubts, rumors, and stories placing an indelible stain on the woman’s reputation?
Someone taking the vow of a Nazirite may do it for lofty purpose, but based on our understanding of the things that motivate such action, we see the wisdom of Gersonides’ analysis that, A person takes such a vow to silence the unhealthy turmoil inside a person arising from a physical desire that might lead one to sin. Does the person who needed to take the Nazirite vow feel rejuvenated or reborn when the vow is complete? Does the thing that required such focus continue to linger in their souls? Such impulses can extend beyond lust to other impulses that can plague us emotionally or spiritually.
The Priestly Blessing is deliberately and thoughtfully placed here to say we struggle and we continue to struggle. It comes at us from all angles. It is part of being human in a world that is often fraught and difficult. Each of us has a struggle, a demon, a bad action, a feeling of inadequacy. It is part of who we are as human beings.
The Priestly Blessing is a wish for wholeness, a wish for Peace in an unpeaceful world. The Priestly Blessing is a wish for Peace; it is our yearning that these struggles do not mire us in a life that feels dark or hopeless. It is the profound hope that God is there to love and protect us even when we feel we have strayed so far away that we are beyond the reach of even the Almighty’s loving protective wings of peace.
Hope remains. God is there. We are not alone.
May the Almighty Bless you and Protect you.
May the Almighty deal kindly and graciously with you.
May the Almighty bestow Divine favor upon you, granting you wholeness and peace.
Shabbat Shalom.
Rabbi David Levin is a second career rabbi. Trained at Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion, Rabbi Levin’s rabbinate focuses on outreach to seekers of meaning, bringing Jewish Wisdom to their life journey. Rabbi Levin’s work is trans-denominational, embracing and drawing knowledge from all aspects of Judaism. He is a member of the CCAR (Reform Rabbinical Association), OHALA (Renewal Rabbinical Association), NAJC (Neshama, Association of Jewish Chaplains), a Fellow of Rabbis Without Borders, serves on the regional board of NIF (New Israel Fund), and is a volunteer on the Disaster Spiritual Care Team of the American Red Cross.
Rabbi Levin currently teaches The Ethical Will Re-Imagined, as well as Mussar at the Jack M. Barrack Hebrew Academy, Introduction to Judaism for the URJ, “Kavod v’Nichum, Understanding Jewish end-of-life rituals”, and the acclaimed series “L’Chaim, Jewish Wisdom for the End of Life Journey” with two esteemed rabbinic colleagues. Rabbi Levin officiates in complex lifecycle events including non-traditional burial and work with interfaith couples. Rabbi David leads interfaith trips to Israel through the CLAL Stand and See project. Rabbi Levin is the organizer of Death Café of Greater Philadelphia