Not coincidentally, considering what I do for a living, I have given a d’rash on Shabbat Shekalim three times now: once as a president of a synagogue; once at a fund raising conference for Jewish communal workers; and now here at my new synagogue. On those and this Shabbat Shekalim, I don’t pitch for money; I don’t pitch for you to contribute your gold rings and silver candlesticks so we can melt them down to make a new breastplate for our high priest to wear; nor do I pitch for silver bells so we can sew them on the bottoms of our high priests robes for Rosh Hashanah . . . although I would like to sometime. This time around for Shabbat Shekalim, I talk about Shekels and taxation and covenants; and what membership in a synagogue means. So lend me your shekels….I mean your ears and your imagination for a few minutes.
We live in an age of Shekels. Everything appears to be measured in shekels. We celebrate with food and wine when we have more shekels than we thought we had. Bonuses are better when they are given in shekels rather than in turkeys or bottles of wine. Indeed, I feel a bit better when I make a little more money than I need, don’t you? And my feeling correlates with the shekels I earned. I often take on a special project in order to get more shekels so I can do more things like buy a new CD of Messaien’s organ works. And at income tax time, we measure our own economic growth and feelings of well being in terms of how many more shekels we managed to amass this past year compared to the year before. There’s a catch, though, at tax time we hunker down and ponder ways to reduce the percentage of our shekels we owe in taxes. Being a law-abiding citizen, I hand over the required number of shekels to the IRS. Amassing shekels can get us high but the current methods of taxation and tax obligations can be a downer. Ah…life with shekels.
The six little verses we heard in the special maftir for this Shabbat describe a different life with shekels, a rarefied one. Those verses describe a flat-tax system associated with census taking with redemption given as a receipt. One half-shekel was collected from everyone. No exceptions. No adjustments. Presumably you either paid or you were out. Your half-shekel was your obligation to help construct the mishkan and support the work done in it. In that Age of Shekalim, the act of being counted and paying your tax was redemptive: I imagine I would have felt relieved because now I belonged to the Israelite wandering gang and could be proud that I paid my share and became a builder of the mishkan and a participant in the community. My life had significance and I could come to have my sins removed at that mishkan. Yes, I have to go to battle occasionally but I know God is on my side.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful to experience that earlier redemption and that feeling of pride when we hand over our half-shekel? We can create our own Age of Shekalim, here in this mishkan, in this synagogue. Having the desire to be part of the Netivot enterprise and to belong to this singular community entails paying your half-shekel – which today at Netivot is computed to be worth $2085 by one calculator, or $1250 by another, or $1170 by a third, all depending. It’s all a half-a-shekel. Paying your half-shekel to Netivot gives you ownership in the Netivot community and all that it does and all that it stands for. Affiliation at this synagogue is different from affiliation at, say, a Jewish Community Center. Both offer services; both endeavor to satisfy your special needs. But only your synagogue makes you an owner.
The covenantal relationship between the Israelites and wandering community when Moses conducted the first census and tax collection is similar to the one you made with Netivot Shalom when you became a member.
How is that? The Israelite got redeemed. What do we get? You get ownership in a synagogue community - special and holy place: a place to daven; a place for special communal prayer; a community to witness certain important moments in our lives; a synagogue community remembers our dead; educates our children; our holy community is where we channel our Tzedakah; where we receive counsel; it’s a place to go to make and meet with friends; a place to cook and a eat and to play ping-pong; where we learn from teachers and visitors; engage in dialogue and debate on pressing social and political issues; our holy community reaches out to those less able to take care of themselves whether here in town, or across the seas; when I belong to a synagogue I know I will be cared for when I am in need; it’s a place to have visions; a place to experiment with new ways of communing with the holy around us.
That’s one-half of the half-shekel covenant. A covenant is a two sided agreement. What does the synagogue expect of you? What’s your part of the deal? Maybe you thought that all you have to do is pay your tax and take your seat. Unfortunately for you I won’t let you off so easily. Here’s why: At Sinai, we shouted Na-aseh V’nishma after we heard the law. We will do according to whatever we heard! The operable word for the Israelites in that covenant was “do.” And it is that same word that informs your role as a partner in the Netivot covenant. Luckily the Netivot “law” – its Minhag of how and what we do -- is a little less full of imperatives and punishments than Sinai’s Torah. So what do you have to do?
You can greet people at services; you can serve on the Board; you can tutor children; you can cook for a kiddush; you can organize a Purim Bash or be a Hagbah; you can stamp envelopes or build a gate to our play area; you can participate in discussions about who we are and where we are going; and you can baby sit; you can be treasurer of a building campaign working tirelessly for 6 or more years; or you can hang pictures on the wall to beautify the interiors. You can perform last rites or set up chairs for a Shiva Minyan.
Here’s my message: whatever it is that you like about this place; whatever it is about its offerings to its members and community, you can do something to make it happen to make it better. I’ll rephrase that to make it stronger: Your part in the Netivot covenant, your continuing obligation is that if you are able to, you must do something to make things happen or to make them be better. It can a big event like planning Queen E’s Night Club; or it can be something personal and quiet like organizing the books in the library or cooking something for the family with their first newborn child. If you see something that needs help, it’s not enough to point it out to someone for someone else to do; if you are able to, you must take steps to do it; if you learn we are short of shekels, start talking to people about it and ask to help to work to make the situation better. You are an owner. And if you are unable to do things, then your obligation is to be with us and increase our strength in numbers.
We are a holy community: a k’hilah kadosha. We are holy because all of us who belong to this synagogue participate in a covenant that is a reflection of the of the original Sinai Covenant and the first census-tax taking; we commit ourselves to a holy relationship when we become owners of Netivot Shalom and we understand our holy obligation of L-asot devarim: of doing what is needed to make the community better. If you decide to participate in a covenant both side in the agreement must do what is expected. The result is good for both: the synagogue is better for what you do and you experience that profound feeling we have when are aware that we are proud that everything looks good at the synagogue and things seem to be working well and serving everyone. When you have that feeling: that is your receipt for paying your half-shekel to this holy community.