Sermon – Elu v’Elu

Now that I have a blog, I finally have a way to try to get some real feedback on my sermons! I’ll make one posting for each of three sermons I gave during the High Holy Days, including a link to the sermon itself. Please – comment and discuss away!

By the way, this one is, to me, incomplete. I say in the sermon, and I’ve said elsewhere, that I think that this is one of those Big Ideas in Judaism. One day, God willing, I’ll be able to make a book out of this. Think of this sermon as a kind of abstract, if you will…

Yom Kippur – Elu v’Elu – The Words of the Living God

Sermon – A Sanctuary From the Storm

Now that I have a blog, I finally have a way to try to get some real feedback on my sermons! I’ll make one posting for each of three sermons I gave during the High Holy Days, including a link to the sermon itself. Please – comment and discuss away!

Next up, Kol Nidrei – A Sanctuary From the Storm

Sermon – The Shofar and Reform Judaism

Now that I have a blog, I finally have a way to try to get some real feedback on my sermons! I’ll make one posting for each of three sermons I gave during the High Holy Days, including a link to the sermon itself. Please – comment and discuss away!

First up, Rosh Hashana morning – The Shofar and Reform Judaism.

What's wrong with being ridiculous?

I recently posted a short item about some twisted Rabbinic logic. Ben Bucholtz (a congregant) posted a comment which I think deserves an response (well, a couple of responses, actually – one on why not to waste a prayer, and one on why not to worry about being ridiculous), and since it’s longish, and potentially interesting to others, I thought I’d put it up as a new entry. First, his comment:

In my humble opinion, the entire discussion is ridiculous. I followed the link and read the referenced article and I'm even more amazed that this question seems to have been debated for centuries. To me, this is a tremendous waste of intellectual energy. Should we say this prayer or not? Oh no, we may waste a prayer. Come on. How can the answer to this make us better Jews or better human beings? Why not spend this time and energy on thinking about how we can improve ourselves, how we can help our community, or how we can make some small contribution to making the world a better place? How does puzzling over this question get us any closer to the "Truth" as you eloquently described in your Rosh Hashanah sermon? On the other hand, after the Yom Kippur morning sermon, I am trying to see merit in the other side of this discussion.

Wasting a prayer

So, first let me address the issue of “wasting a prayer.” I was aware, in the original posting, that I was glossing over a larger idea, and I’m glad that Ben picked up on it (and, so, gave me an excuse to respond). Traditionally, it is very important to not waste a blessing – for example, we’d never say haMotzi (the blessing over bread) and then not eat bread. Similarly, we never say a blessing which has already been said – it’s also improper to repeat haMotzi in the middle of a meal. Why?

As always, there are lots of reasons, but I think that most of them come down to paying attention to our words, and treating some words as special, or even sacred. Blessings inherently invoke God, and we don’t want to abuse God - not because God cares, but because how we act towards God affects how we view God. So, saying a blessing that isn’t needed is, in its own way, acting dismissively towards God. Rabbis, Philosophers and Cognitive Scientists all agree* – how we use our words very much affects how we see our world. Being very careful with our use of blessings, and with our use of God, can have a profound affect on our own outlook.

* now there’s a phrase you don’t see every day

By the way, when I was studying this in Rabbinical School, I made a practice of not saying “God Bless You” when someone sneezes. I usually use “Gezundheit” or “LaBriyut,” as a way to avoid using “bless” in a silly situation. Not that I think it’s sinful to say “God Bless You,” it’s just become one of my little, ongoing reminders to think carefully about how we use words like “God” and “bless.” I continue this practice to this day, and I have to say, it’s one of those little practices which means a lot to me. It’s amazing to me how often I actually think about this issue, albeit usually quickly and in a cursory way, when someone sneezes!

So, I’d say that worrying about “wasting a blessing” is potentially very useful, theologically speaking.

Go ahead…be ridiculous

But, that brings me to what may be a very different point. The “useless” argument. We shouldn’t bother with this or that topic, because they are “useless.” They are, in Ben’s words, a waste of intellectual energy. To that, I humbly reply, so what?

One of my favorite ways to take a mental break at work is to read a few baseball blogs. I especially love the ones from an analytical, statistics-based perspective. Why? Well, partially, it’s just because I do. Call it a quirk. Why do some people like Jazz and some don’t? Romance novels? Gardening? It’s just a matter of taste. Reading about baseball is a hobby. I enjoy it. Following the twisted logic of halachic reasoning is a hobby. I enjoy it. It often isn’t useful to my life (although, I frequently get good teaching/preaching material from it), but the thing itself is, to me, fun.

And, this may somewhat contradict what I just said, but it occurs to me that both of these pastimes (baseball analysis and halacha) are, to some degree, analysis for its own sake. Thinking for its own sake. Kind of like mental calisthenics. I do these things for some of the same reasons people do Sudoku, I guess – just a way to stretch the brain a bit, with nothing serious at stake to raise the tension. So, even if the content isn’t meaningful, that doesn’t mean that the activity is useless, or ridiculous.

I’ve noticed that, particularly in religion, people often use the “don’t waste your time on that; there are more valuable things to be doing” argument. I think it’s a false dichotomy. Of course, making the world a better place is more valuable than thinking about the importance of wasting a blessing. But, who says we have to choose? I can use one to relax, so I’m ready to do the other. I read silly mystery novels when my brain is tired, so I can read Heschel when it’s not. And so on.

By the way, if you’re interested, Rob Neyer is kind of the Dean of analytical bloggers, and Joe Posnanski is just brilliant. Good places to start.

Truth

One of my favorite topics is uncertainty, and the ambiguous nature of truth. I’ve spoken about it a number of times, written about a few times in this blog (although not recently, I think) and so on. I am, in fact, trying to finish up a Yom Kippur sermon on this very topic (it’s my first attempt to really speak systematically about this idea, which I believe to be utterly fundamental. It’s making me think that maybe, someday, I’ll actually be able to follow through on my threat to write a book about it). When trying to find a few last pieces, I came across the following:

I believe that ideas such as absolute certitude, absolute exactness, final truth, etc.  are figments of the imagination which should not be admissible in any field of science…  This loosening of thinking seems to me to be the greatest blessing which modern science has given to us.  For the belief in a single truth and in being the possessor thereof is the root cause of all evil in the world.

Max Born, Nobel Prize laureate in Physics, 1954

 

It is the certainty that they possess the truth that makes men cruel.

Anatole France, Noble Prize laureate in literature, 1921

 

Believe those who seek the truth, doubt those who find it.

Andre Gide, Noble Prize laureate in literature, 1947

Video Killed the Rabbi Star

I hate seeing myself on video. I know that’s not exactly unique, but it’s true. But, when the JCC/Federation asked me to participate in their new “From the Bima” video series, I had to say “yes.” I had to, in part, because I love and support the JCC/Federation. But, I also think that if the Jewish Communal world doesn’t figure out how to leverage technology, and soon, we’re going to be digging ourselves a very, very deep hole!

So, my entry is now up on their website. I urge you to view it for two reasons:

1. the teaching, while a bit too complex for me to do justice to in the minute I was allotted (and, yes, I am aware that I spoke for more than a minute. But no one tells a Rabbi to speak for a minute and then really expects him to do so, right?), is a really beautiful teaching that I just recently came across. It adds a spiritual dimension to the Kol Nidrei prayer that I hadn’t considered before, which promises to make hearing that prayer much more meaningful to me, this year.
2. Someone at the J is tracking how many hits the various Rabbis get, and wouldn’t it be cool if I get more than anyone else? I mean, I know that these things aren’t important, but throw me a bone. I’m never going to actually be famous. But, I can be the most famous Tampa-based-Internet Rabbi. So, that would be something.

So, click on the video, and view it. Enjoy the teaching; I certainly loved learning it. And, then, have your friends click on it, too. You learn. I receive glory. Everyone wins.

Gamar Chatima Tova – may you be sealed in the Book of Life.

Rabbinic logic

I just came across an example of rabbinic logic.  I can't decide if it's brilliant, or ridiculous.  As a side note, it's interesting how often that's the case.

So, the question is whether to recite shechechiyanu (that’s the prayer we say when we experience something new, or when we reach a regular milestone, such as a holiday) on the second day of Rosh Hashana.

Because I'm still working on my High Holy Day sermons, I'm not going to take the time to explain all the details, but you can find them here. The summary of the conundrum is that the second day of the holiday is, according to some authorities, actually an extension of the first day.  In other words, there aren’t two days of Rosh Hashana, but rather one, extra-long day. So, whether or not to recite the prayer would depend on whether or not the second day is in fact a new day, which isn't clear. And, it's important to know, that, traditionally, it's very important not to "waste" a blessing. We're not supposed to say a blessing, unless we absolutely need to.  So, how do we know what to do in this case?

The solution?  Easy!  Put something special, like a piece of fruit you haven't eaten this year, on the table. Then, say the blessing.  If it turns out that we're supposed to say the blessing for the holiday, then we did so.  If, however, it turns out that we weren't supposed to say it for the holiday, then we can say we said it for the fruit.  Either way, we're kosher.

So, faithful readers: what say you?  A brilliant way around a religious conundrum?  Or, an example of what's wrong with religious ritual?  Or, both?

And now, back to those sermons…