Bridging the Gaps

Sermon given Rosh Hashanah Morning, September 27, 2003, by Rabbi Samuel M. Stahl


It is so good to be home again. I am grateful to Rabbi Block for affording me this great privilege and treasured opportunity to deliver the sermon on this Rosh Hashanah morning. As some of you know, Lynn and I have done a considerable amount of traveling since my retirement. But one extended trip stands out as the highlight.

We just spent a most glorious summer at the remarkable Chautauqua Institution in upstate New York For nine weeks, every day, from early morning until late at night, our schedule was packed with lectures, concerts, plays, operas, and classes on a wide variety of topics, both academic and practical. Someone once called Chautauqua an “Adult Brain Camp.”

Numerous Temple congregants have visited Chautauqua for a week or more. Some of our congregants even own homes there. One estimate is that 17% per cent of the property owners of Chautauqua are Jewish. This figure is surprising, because, before 1960, Jews were barred from buying real estate there.

Chautauqua was founded as a retreat center for Methodist Sunday School teachers in 1874, the same year as the founding of Temple Beth-El. Yet, for almost a century, Chautauqua discriminated against Jews and other minorities.

Today, everything is radically different. Chautauqua, in its mission statement, continues to emphasize religion and is still officially a Christian organization. Yet it is pluralistic in its Christianity. It is open to all other expressions of faith.

Since 1960, an active Jewish congregation flourishes as part of Chautauqua's religious life. It draws a large attendance to its weekly Shabbat services and Sunday evening and Tuesday afternoon programs. Furthermore, rabbis and other experts on Judaism have lectured at Chautauqua for at least 30 years.

A few years ago, Chautauqua began the Abrahamic Initiative, to explore the wisdom of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, the three faiths derived from our forefather, Abraham. This summer, a husband and wife team of Sufi mystics, as well as another couple who were Sikh mystics and an avant garde rabbi from New Mexico, offered special meditation sessions.

Dr. Joan Brown Campbell is the head of Chautauqua's Department of Religion and a world-renowned religious leader in her own right. Prior to assuming this position, she was the executive head of the National Council of Churches. When she invited me to serve as Theologian-in-Residence, I was immensely honored. I was only the second person to hold this position, the first being Karen Armstrong, the noted historian of religions and a prolific author.

Quite frankly, I was hesitant to accept the title of Theologian-in-Residence, since I am far from an expert in theology. I would have preferred the designation of Rabbi-in-Residence. Yet Dr. Campbell urged me to be the Theologian-in-Residence. She wanted to emphasize that I was to be a resource and an ambassador to all the religious communities at Chautauqua, and not just to the Jewish population there.

My experience at Chautauqua this past summer was one of the most rewarding of my entire personal and professional life. Since the time I was ordained a rabbi in 1967, I have devoted my energies to building open and sturdy bridges between religious communities. Yet this summer's happenings pried open my soul and mind to even newer and broader dimensions of thinking and relating to people who are not Jewish.

The central lesson I learned at Chautuaqua this past summer is that we must confront the ugly phenomenon of anti-Semitism with realism, rather than paranoia. Many of the Jews at Chautauqua grew up at a time, when anti-Semitism in this country was rife They remember street urchins' tormenting them as they walked home from school with the taunts of: “Christ killer.”

Some of the most academically qualified among them were rejected for admission to Harvard, Yale, Princeton and other Ivy League universities, which admitted only a tiny number of Jews to their freshmen classes. Some physicians still feel the sting of their rejections from numerous medical schools.

Alan Dershowitz reflected on his own brush with anti-Jewish discrimination in the work place. He wrote: “When I was growing up, when I became a teacher at Harvard Law School, no matter how good a student a Jew was, no matter how high he ranked in his class, he couldn't get a job at a Wall Street law firm. I was turned down by 33 out of 34 of these firms. Only one even gave me an interview.”

Jews not only faced rejection in their job searches. They also couldn't join country clubs nor buy homes in neighborhoods they desired, because Jews were not wanted. Chautauqua's policies against Jews were typical of the genteel anti-Semitism that poisoned our country until about four decades ago.

Such humiliation naturally creates a defensive positive. Some Jews at Chautauqua, who otherwise bask in its cultural brilliance, still suspect that every non-Jew down deep hates Jews. They wait for every sign to prove their thesis to be correct. They take seriously the disgraceful adage on which some of us were unfortunately raised: “Scratch a goy and you'll find an anti-Semite.”

I believe that this is an overreaction. The reality is that, unfortunately, even in places where they are few to no Jews, we will find anti-Semitism. It is a regrettable part of the human condition. In Europe, attacks on Jews are becoming more and more rampant. Synagogue burnings, Jewish cemetery desecrations, boycotts of Israel, and bans on the production of kosher meat have become commonplace. In Great Britain alone, incidents of anti-Semitism have increased 400% since the Second Intifada in Israel began three years ago. Similar horrifying statistics have been uncovered in France, Belgium and Germany.

Yet, in the United States, I am convinced that anti-Semitism is at an all time low. One of my colleagues has asserted that “American Jews are the luckiest Jews in history.” We live in a country and at a time that offer far more freedom, opportunity, and security than Jews have ever known.

Now let me be clear. I am not naïve enough to predict that it can never happen here. However, I firmly believe that it is highly unlikely. We are less than 3% of the total population of the United States. Nonetheless, because of our myriad accomplishments and our success, we American Jews are now part of the mainstream population, In spite of our tiny numbers, we are no longer classified as a minority.

Today, a Jew can live anywhere, work anywhere, and belong anywhere. A few years ago, the presidents of Harvard, Yale and Princeton were Jews. Jews occupy a disproportionate number of seats in Congress and the Supreme Court. When a government official even makes statement that contains even an innuendo against Jews, the general public rises up to condemn that official.

Last March, Congressman James Moran, of Virginia, charged that Jews were leading the United States into war with Iraq. Almost immediately after, the American people denounced him. Anti-Semitism is simply no longer tolerated in public life, as once was the case. And, of course, the nomination of Senator Joseph Lieberman as Vice-Presidential candidate should allay our anxieties, and we can now rejoice in the prominent place of Jews in the United States.

Jews today enjoy such a phenomenal popularity that even Yiddish expressions and Jewish culinary items have found their way into American culture. Even McDonald's now features ham and cheese on a bagel!

Furthermore, numerous official Christian church bodies once condoned anti-Semitism. For almost 2000 years, they taught that Jews killed Jesus. They also believed that Jews must convert to Christianity in order to be saved. Many immigrant Jews came to the United States from Eastern Europe with fear and trembling about Christianity. They would cross the street before passing a church. They would shield their eyes to avoid looking at priests and nuns. They did so, because the Christian hatred of the Jew in Russia, Poland, and neighboring lands, where they spent their formative years, was fierce.

Now the Church has rejected those dangerous beliefs. Since Vatican II in the mid-1960's, the Roman Catholic Church has essentially removed the decide charge. It has absolved Jews of crucifying Jesus. After hearing this news, the comedian, Mort Sahl, said that he had the best night's sleep in 2000 years.

According to Pope John Paul II, Jews need not become Roman Catholics to be saved. He has repeatedly proclaimed that Jews remain in a permanent covenant with God. They can connect with God through Torah rather than Jesus. The pope has also branded anti-Semitism as a sin.

Most national mainline Protestant church bodies have taken similar actions to foster healthy Christian-Jewish relations. In short, anti-Semitism has now moved out of the mainstream of American society to its fringes, where only extremist hate groups flourish.

Yet, some of us still harbor deep suspicions about the feelings of most American non-Jews. I am convinced that the vast majority have no negative feelings against us. Yet, something seems to hold us back from giving up these suspicions. It's almost as if these fears and anxieties about anti-Semitism, even if not based on reality, serve a vital need. Possibly we believe that these feelings keep us tied to Judaism. In the novel, American Pastoral, by Philip Roth, the central character says: “Once Jews ran away from oppression. Now they run away from no oppression.”

We have developed a religion of anti-anti-Semitism. We feel deeply Jewish, but have trouble with the religious part. To fuel and sustain our Jewish commitment, we keep our antennae up to detect even the most remote hint of anti-Semitism. Thus being Jewish means fighting anti-Semitism.

Rabbi Harold Schulweis dissects this mentality so perceptively: “The Jewish people for decades was held up by the walls of anti-Semitism. Anti-Semitism…kept Jews together. The most un-Jewish of Jews were reminded that they can not lose themselves because 'they (the Gentiles) won't let you'….Anti-semitism has long served as the rationale for Jewish identity and loyalty….”

However, anti-anti-Semitism will no longer serve as the viable Jewish way in the 21st century. This anti-anti Semitism, this Judaism of double negatives, will no longer inspire our children and grandchildren. Such a dour and pessimistic philosophy will turn them off. It's not enough. It is empty! They will not be scared or frightened into practicing Judaism. We must look for another way of sustaining Judaism. But how?

We need to see those outside of the Jewish community as our allies and not our adversaries. Most generally appreciate us as Jews and are hungry to learn more about Judaism. Note the huge number of church groups that visit our Temple week after week. They have no ulterior motive of hoping to convert us. Our dread of anti-Semitism has prevented us from listening to where they are and who they are.

We need to approach Christians and Muslims with the confidence that they, too, are children of God, that they, too, are Abraham's descendants, that they, too, want rewarding and secure lives in a world of peace for themselves and their children. Then we can begin to listen to them sensitively, without compromising our integrity and without paranoia.

Such was the transforming lesson I learned at Chautauqua. We need to initiate more interfaith dialogue with Christians and others, freely acknowledging our fundamental differences, while celebrating our many similarities. We need to continue inviting them to join us in projects for human betterment, like Mitzvah Day and Habitat for Humanity. With those outside the Jewish community, we share a mission to work toward the malkhut shamayim, the Kingdom of God, the Messianic Age, which is the message of Rosh Hashanah.

This morning, when we heard the Torah reading, most of us probably were so relieved to learn that Abraham did not plunge the knife into Isaac that we didn't listen carefully to next few verses. These verses represent the whole point of the story. God kept Isaac alive, not so that we could spend the next several millennia obsessing about anti-Semitism. Rather the Torah tells us “v'hitbarkhu v'zaraha kol goyei ha-aretz”- that it will be because of Isaac and his Jewish descendants that all the nations of the earth shall be blessed.

God wants Jews to be a blessing to the world. We must continue to give the world our precious gifts it desperately needs. Over the centuries, we Jews have instructed the world that all human beings are sacred and worthy of respect. We have been pioneers in the fields of social welfare, human dignity, and medical care. We have taught the world lessons of compassion and moderation. We have fought for one standard of justice, both for rich and poor. We have advocated universal education. We have insisted on accepting all people who are different as equals.

Mark Levenson, in a brief article in the Wall Street Journal, offers us the best rationale for remaining Jewish. It not to be preoccupied with anti-Semitism, but to remember that we have something vital and essential to impart to the world.

Here are his stirring words: “The future of the Jews matters because the world still needs Jews. The Jews' mission- tikkun olam, the repair of the world- is well under way, but not a reality. That many others…join the Jews in this mission is laudable. Working together, perhaps we can make this vision a reality.” May God give us the strength to realize this vision in the New Year. Amen.


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