Rosh HaShannah, 5772, Margee Burch
Rosh HaShannah
Sep 29, 2011 / 1 Tishrei, 5772
Margee Burch
Jews Like Justice and Milking Cows
L'shana tova.
If you have spent any time around advocates in the Jewish community, you’ve probably heard the quote, “justice, justice you shall pursue” only a few hundred times. Talking about access to healthcare? Deuteronomy chapter 16, verse 20. How about access to fresh fruits and vegetables? Deuteronomy 16:20. Working toward peace in the Middle East? Want equal and fair pay? Organizing milking cows so they can strike if their contract does not include vacation, sick time, and a 40 hour work week? You guessed it, Deuteronomy chapter 16, verse 20.
But the Torah quote did not originate from Jewish community brochures and websites, for it was already a major tenant of traditional Jewish practice before advocacy organizations thought to use it. You’ll find it, among other places, in the Amidah that we said this morning. It is a popular phrase in part because it so eloquently captures Jewish thought on justice. And at the same time, it’s pretty ambiguous. Because, what exactly is justice? What are you supposed to be pursuing?
You know when your parent or significant other asks you to do the dishes, and they’re the dishes so you don’t really want to? You go to the sink, see the dishes and do them. But you know there’s a cup in the living room, because you left it there, but since they asked you to do the dishes, not search the house to find all the dishes, you leave the cup? Yeah, that’s not justice.
That’s actually un-justice, unjust you might say. It doesn’t have to be doing something wrong; it’s simply taking a shortcut around what is right. By not getting that cup, you disrespected the essence of the request, thus disrespecting the person who asked you to do the dishes. It is taught that the entire Torah is for the sake of the ways of shalom, of peace. The Torah helps guide us in our path to create fulfilling relationships in and outside of our homes and communities, and help repair the world we live in.
It’s why so many different causes can be linked to that Deuteronomy phrase. We have many chances to create peace, to improve our relationships, and our community every day, and those choices can really add up in a year. We do some things, and don’t do others, and are left with some un-done deeds, some misdeeds, some good deeds and some bad ones too. Maybe some thoughtful deeds that were only thought, and the opportunity slipped by.
Alright, the other person doesn’t know you left the cup in the living room. But you feel guilty, or maybe you know somewhere deep inside that it wasn’t the best choice. And it feels a little silly to apologize, because you’d first have to admit you knew about it, and then you have to tell them you ignored part of what they wanted. It’s scary to out yourself like that – they might get angry or, maybe even worse, think you’re a total freak for apologizing for something that didn’t happen.
And even more humbling and scary is when we DO do something hurtful. You can never undo what you have done, so why even try? I’ll tell you why- because of justice, because of that Deuteronomy phrase. Because it’s your job, no matter the circumstance, to make a better community.
In these next ten days, it is an opportunity to say to yourself, to HaShem, and maybe even to your parent or significant other that you’re going to make the future better and you’re sorry for leaving the cup in the living room and you’re going to try really hard to bring the cup to the kitchen next time.
As we celebrate the universe’s birthday, because this is the reason for today’s holiday, it’s a reminder that we are just a small speck, one earth among many planets, one person among billions. Yet, as we consider what we have done in this past year, it’s also a reminder that it does not matter how small we are, our actions matter greatly. It’s why it’s so important to honor one another and stand up and say that we can improve. We are part of an interconnected web, and it is vital we help maintain our community’s spiritual health by keeping ourselves happy, healthy, and open to the miracle that is life. We are surrounded by people who care for us, and we must care for them in turn. Thus it is important for us to nurture these relationships and nurture ourselves. During this morning’s Amidah, we said:
Remember us for good
Respond to us with blessing
Redeem us with life
This plea to G-d is also a reminder that we are perpetrators of blessed deeds. Fate imagines our destiny, but we shape it. It is how we remember and respond to ourselves and our lives that give us the power to change the severity of our destinies. We are responsible for how we react to life, if we see days as blessings or misgivings, and the choices that we make throughout the day.
Because life is unpredictable. Yes, there’s work, there’s school, and the weekends. But what infuses our lives with spectacular awe is that we don’t know what tomorrow brings. Or even tonight. Despite all our planning, tonight an oven will die right before guests arrive for dinner, a baby will learn to crawl for the first time, 30 seconds before the video camera can capture it. People die and babies are born, but our path is determined not just by these events, but how we react to them.
Rosh Hashanah’s Torah portion is not Genesis, is not recounting the creation of the world, a reading that would be extremely fitting since today is the universe’s birthday. Today’s Torah portion instead reminds us of the essence and flavor of the holiday: that we are simply human, life is unpredictable, and perspective matters.
As we all know, blessings take their sweet time, and that could not be truer for Sarah, who at 90 was finally blessed with a child. Baby Isaac joins the family and Sarah asks Abraham to banish Hagar and their son Ishmael to the unforgiving desert to make room for the new kid. This is such a problematic moment in the text. As many parents in this room can attest, blended families can happily co-exist under the same roof. Yet, it’s this frayed moment, a moment that splits apart a family, and begins something new, it’s this moment that is the crux of life.
Beginnings and endings are often the same undefined moment. Where you find your beginning and ending is how you define the path you take. If you end the story at Hagar’s banishment and Ishmael’s cries, what hope is there for humanity? What about the future nation that will inspire religious thought and contemplative lives? But if you only look at the nation that is to come from Hagar’s womb, then where is the compassion for a baby almost dead in the desert, and a mother who has to watch him cry?
Is Hagar and Ishmael’s banishment a blessing or Sarah and Abraham’s mistake? Questions like these are the essence of humanity, what make our lives so precious. We must balance our perspectives so we can live lives full of justice, full of compassion, mercy, and blessings we bestow upon ourselves and others.
Justice is the world in balance, recognition that we are part of an interconnected web of humanity and must depend and trust one another. We are only in control of our actions, but empowered to create a just world, a world of overachieving do-gooders who help to end hunger, abolish slavery, and open their homes to orphans, widows, and the homeless among us. You needn’t work in the organic food movement or help secure milking cow contracts to be a part of a movement toward justice. Justice is often just a small choice that you make every day. It’s putting the cup in the kitchen, giving tzedakah, and being committed to a vision where the world is perfect. For you and I, with all of our flaws, we are part of the Divine cosmos and have the power to influence our destinies and the destiny of the world, by simply pursuing justice.
L’shana tova.