Hello blog readers.  I know it’s been an age…

I did a sermon this past Friday evening on the subject of Tisha B’Av.  It’s the summer, so attendance at worship has been light.  We’ve seen about 25-30 on average at services.  This Friday, however, was the start of the London Olympics, with opening ceremonies due to commence at the same time as services.  We had 10 in attendance.  So, even though Tisha B’Av has come and gone for this year, I thought I’d share my sermon with you.  Enjoy.

 

(Sermon originally delivered at Temple Beth Torah 7/27/2012)

This weekend, Jews all over the world will observe the holiday of Tisha B’av. Tisha B’Av, which literally means the 9th day of the month of Av, is a fast day, and a national day of Jewish mourning. Both the First and Second Temples in Jerusalem were destroyed on the 9th of Av – 655 years apart. The holiday primarily recalls those terrible events, but our tradition also teaches that many of the worst tragedies in Jewish history, both ancient and more modern took place on that day. According to the Mishnah, the twelve spies sent by Moses to seek out the land of Canaan gave their fearful report on Tisha B’Av during Biblical times, The Romans crushed Bar Kochba’s revolt, destroyed the city of Betar and killed over 100,000 Jews on Tisha B’Av in the year 132. History also reveals that the first crusade began on August 15, 1096 – Tisha B’Av, Jews were expelled from England on July 25, 1290 – Tisha B’av, Jews were expelled from Spain on July 31, 1492 – Tisha B’av. World War I broke out on August 1, 1914 – Tisha B’Av and on the eve of Tisha B’Av in 1942 the mass deportation began of Jews from the Warsaw Ghetto to Treblinka began.

512px-Wailing_Wall_Jerusalem_Victor_Grigas_2011_-1-50By Victorgrigas (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0 via Wikimedia Commons]

Because the main focus of the holiday has been on the destruction of the Temples, its observance has fallen out of favor among liberal Jews – both Reform and to some degree, Conservative. Ismar Schorsch, former chancellor of the Conservative Jewish Theological Seminary said that Tisha B’Av has no appeal to the modern Jew who “no longer prays for the restoration of the sacrificial cult in Jerusalem.” He felt that the day’s modern meaning came from looking at the more recent national disasters that we also mark on that day.

We learn from the Talmud (Tractate Yoma) that the reason that the second Temple was destroyed was “Sinat Chinam” – baseless hatred. And baseless hatred is also behind many of the other tragedies that we mark on this day. It seems to me that perhaps the most meaningful way for liberal Jews to think about this holiday is through the lens of the damage caused by humanity’s tendency towards acts of baseless hatred. We see Sinat Chinam in acts of terror such as the tragic ones that we all heard about last week in Bulgaria and in Aurora, but we also see it on a less violent and less obvious scale in our day to day lives.

Earlier this week, I was listening to the podcast, “Freakonomics,” and the host was talking about how our political affiliations can be almost tribal (about 33:50 into the episode), that we often side with a political party, ascribing to their point of view without even fully researching or understanding everything that we say that we agree with. Political affiliation as tribal? A fascinating idea.

How do tribal affiliations make us behave? I think there are two primary feelings that come out of being a part of a tribe – pride and fear. I often get emails from congregants with lists or videos that talk about the great accomplishments of Jews over the centuries. The things that we, as a people, have managed to do that others have not. These are examples of our tribal pride and, to be honest, they always make me a little uncomfortable. A history of Jews in science, sports, or music makes us proud. A similar history that talked about the genetic or cultural advantages of being Christian, African American, or heaven forbid, white, would make us very wary indeed!

Tribal affiliations also make us feel fear and anxiety. We worry about “the other, “and about our persecution. As Jews we fear anti-semitism. As a liberal, I hear about “the war against women,” and countless other things we have to fear from the right. Conservatives too seem to have a great deal to fear from the other side of the aisle – their rights and liberties will be taken away, government will rule their lives, they will be taxed into poverty.

Both our fear and our pride make us want to close our minds and our ears to the other. Have you ever watched a “news” or talk show where political pundits are supposed to be “debating” an issue? Almost invariably they talk over one another to such an extent that the listener can not absorb any piece of the argument from either side. It’s better that way anyway, if we don’t agree with it, we probably don’t want to hear it. This sample is a little dated, but I think it illustrates my point perfectly.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oSqsBfBCW7k]

I would not ordinarily think of myself as the kind of person who would not want to hear an argument that I don’t agree with. I believe that I am open minded, that I like to hear all sides of an issue before deciding how I feel about it. To some extent that is true. I do usually research an issue before I formulate an opinion (though I will admit that some of that research will be done on websites that agree with my political affiliations.) I do try to read both sides of the story, though. Once I have decided my stance, it is hard for me to not only revisit the issue, but even frankly, to listen to the other side.

I have this friend on Facebook. We aren’t really friends. We’re colleagues – but Facebook makes no distinctions. We are polar opposites politically and he posts about politics ALL the time. And my blood pressure goes up with each and every posting. I’ve considered “unfriending” him. I’ve thought about blocking his posts. It is the mere fact that I have pondered these things that illustrates my point. It is hard for me to tolerate this person from another political tribe in my friendship circle. His arguments make me angry. And I am sure the reverse is true. Unfortunately for him, I think most of his “friends” are members of my political tribe.

Is it different face to face? Unfortunately, no. A political discussion between friends at a recent barbeque that I attended almost necessitated the calling of the police. One of the people refused to let the other even finish his side of the argument before talking, yelling, standing and towering over, and then almost physically assaulting. And over what? They disagreed politically? Really?

One of the most brilliant things about our American political system is its innate balance. A president has no real power without congress. Congress is elected by majorities in all of the states. The far left and far right are balanced (we hope) through this system. Real work can only happen when politicians put aside, as much as possible, their “tribal affiliations,” and work for the greater good, listening to what one another has to say and working for balance.

The watchword of our faith is Sh’ma – Listen. It’s a harder thing to do than most of us know, but it is the doorway to peace. When we really hear one another, we can disagree, but it’s harder to hate because you can see the humanity in the face of the other. This means being patient enough to hear their entire argument, and being willing in the end to say, “we agree to disagree.” Our tradition teaches that when we argue for the sake of heaven, the presence of G-d dwells between us.

The Temple was destroyed for Sinat Chinam – baseless hatred – a feeling that can only come about with eyes and ears closed. This year as we mark Tisha B’Av let us resolve to bring the essence of Judaism, that listening, into our relationships and our politics. We can mark Tisha B’Av best by donating to organizations that work tirelessly for peace, and dialogue, and by engaging in that work ourselves.

Shabbat shalom.