Practicing Judaism
Rosh Ha-Shanah 5784 sermon
Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman
September 16, 2023
I was recently asked by a young man, how does one practice Judaism.
I admit the question caught me a bit off guard. It sounds simple enough, but the answer can be very complicated—and not very easy to respond to 'al regel achat, “while standing on one foot,” as the Hebrew saying goes.
How does one practice Judaism? Do we mean practice as in exercise—constant repetition and refinement, the way we practice a musical instrument or a dedicated sport? Or more like the implementation of what we had studied: the practice of law, for example, or family medicine?
The answer, of course, is a combination of both.
Judaism is greater than the sum of its parts. In Pirkei Avot, a collection of rabbinic teachings and sayings from the 1st and 2nd centuries, Rabbi Simeon the Righteous teaches that the Jewish world stands on three principles: Torah study, the Sacred Service, and acts of righteousness. These three don’t exist independently, however. They are intertwined, one leading to the other and back again. We study the texts and at the same time begin to fulfill the Commandments. And as we observe our rituals and traditions, so we also aim to get better and more consistent at performing them. We may practice by repetition the unfamiliar shapes and sounds of the Hebrew aleph-bet, but at the same time we seek fresh meaning and purpose, in ancient prayers that were formulated thousands of years ago.
Children first learn by repeating what they hear; then they start asking questions. Growing older, our quest for understanding never ends. Every Torah story we study raises questions: Is the world really 5784 years old as tradition tells us? And why did God rest on the seventh day of creation? Why would God—the all-mighty force behind all Creation—need to rest anyway? Why didn’t Abraham tell Sarah that God ordered him to sacrifice their son, Isaac? And, really, what did happen to the dinosaurs? Shouldn’t they be part of the story of Creation? Did they miss the boat when Noah mustered all the other animals on earth into his ark?
The answers that we uncover become lessons that accompany us throughout life—not only to be stored away, but also to become part of the way we practice our faith.
Living a Jewish life means constant dialogue—with God, with ancient and contemporary rabbis and teachers, but mostly, among ourselves. We try to participate in Jewish life—to practice our Judaism—as members of communities and congregations. At our homes, in nature, or, more commonly, in the beit-knesset, the synagogue, we have always found a place to come together. It is here that we gather to worship and study, to celebrate our customs and traditions, and to mark the passage of time. It is here that we come to observe Shabbat and the holidays. Here we discuss events that affect us as a community and as a people.
While our lives as American Jews may take us on diverse paths, it is in our synagogues that we find others who believe as we do, who share similar experiences and traditions. We come here to make and sustain friendships, to educate our children, to find strength and encouragement when challenges beset us. The synagogue is indeed a house of prayer, but in the larger picture it’s also so much more: It is the heart and hearth of our people, the tent of meeting where, through active participation, we keep Jewish history alive and make sure it continues into the future.
Practicing Judaism also means becoming involved with our brethren in the Land of Israel and elsewhere in the world—to deepen our own identity while also doing whatever we can to maintain and support the nation and culture that we are a part of, that affects us in countless ways and gives us so much more in return.
Long ago, our people accepted a challenge. Along all our paths, wherever we make our homes, Judaism does more than simply identify us as a people. Judaism presents us with a mission that extends beyond the walls of our homes and sanctuaries. Our care and concern must never be limited only to ourselves. Rather, we must always also be aware of the needs of the world around us. Our faith calls on us to help all Creation. We are commanded to free the captive—the falsely imprisoned; to remove the chains of those who are shackled by poverty, prejudice and tyranny. It is a mitzvah—a holy commandment—to feed the hungry and care for the sick and needy. And as caretakers of the world, it becomes our duty to repair our mismanaged planet and restore—or at least conserve—its squandered resources.
To practice Judaism means to pursue justice, and to bring solace and comfort to people and places where the terrors of war have caused homelessness, poverty and misery. That is the meaning of the third anchor in the teaching of Simeon the Righteous: g’millut chasadim, acts loving-kindness. On bumper stickers and social media we are often urged to engage in “random acts of kindness.” The ancient Rabbi Simeon would have taken issue with this concept. His idea of practicing Judaism would have us go beyond random, to make kindness our regular practice.
And no other Jewish holiday iterates this message as vividly as Rosh Ha-Shanah.
Rosh Ha-Shanah is unlike any other holiday in our calendar. Rather than commemorating a singular event in Jewish history, Rosh Ha-Shanah marks the Anniversary of all Creation. Its message to us is that we—the Jewish People—have a role to play in the ongoing work of Creation. Our choices and deeds make a difference not only in our own lives, but also in the life of the universe. Rosh Ha-Shanah is a reminder to put our lives in order, to sort out what’s important and of lasting value, from those habits and customs that serve only to distract us from our primary duties and tasks.
At Rosh Ha-Shanah services we rededicate ourselves to those purposes and ethics that we accepted at Sinai nearly four thousand years ago. And in return, we find our own faith reinforced, even—and perhaps especially—during troubling times and circumstances.
Yet at the same time, we must not forget that our sacred communities are sustained by the generosity, service and dedication of volunteers. Just as the Tent of Meeting in the Sinai Wilderness was built through the contribution and volunteering of the entire nation of Israelites, so by answering the call to participate in any way that we can, we take our place among those who have built and maintained synagogues since that time.
There are many opportunities to serve a congregation: from setup to cleanup; from planning social events to creating beautiful rituals; from contributing to a meal train to visiting someone who is sick, or giving them a ride to or from a doctor’s appointment. We perform a mitzvah when we volunteer time and knowledge to help make our services available online to housebound families and individuals. These are just some of the opportunities for service and participation that are calling and awaiting your response. By responding hineni, “here I am,” you not only enrich your own life, but you also contribute to the ongoing life and story of the Jewish people.
So this is the answer I would like to give the individual who asked me how to practice Judaism: We pray, we study, we act. To be Jewish is to be part of an ancient people whose culture and traditions go back hundreds and thousands of years and are as diverse and beautiful as the colors of a rainbow. We join our fate and faith with our people when we engage in the study of our sacred texts; when we observe rituals that bring light and meaning into our lives; when we become active in the Jewish community; and when we put into daily practice the values, ethics and morals that our faith teaches us.
May our worship this morning serve to remind us of our ideals and inspire us to continue working toward them. May our prayers and petitions find their path to the Source of all life and blessing. And may we all be inscribed in the Book of Life for a year of joy, health, love and peace. L’shana tova tikatveu. Amen.
© 2023 by Boaz D. Heilman
No comments:
Post a Comment