By the time Shabbat begins the temperature will be well below freezing and roads are expected to be covered in patches of black ice. So while we were looking forward to returning to in-person worship this evening, out of an abundance of caution, we have decided to keep services fully on Zoom for one more week.
We look forward to seeing you in the sanctuary next Friday… and to coming together this evening to welcome Shabbat and learn from our special Shabbat scholar.
Dear Friends,
There is an unusual aspect to the fall holidays that is often overlooked. At the end of Sukkot, just days after our day of atonement of Yom Kippur, there is a commemoration known as Shmini Atzeret, the Eighth Day of Assembly. During services that morning many Jews take their lulav and etrog and, as they walk around the sanctuary in a hakafah—parading around the sanctuary—strike the ritual items on the ground. This ritual, odd as it may be, is a symbolic way to “beat away our sins and transgressions.”
What is most striking about this is not the ritual itself, odd as it may be. No, what is most striking about this ritual is its proximity to Yom Kippur. Just days earlier, an entire day was spent in reflection and atonement. With Neila, the closing service of Yom Kippur, we are spiritually “reborn.” Cleansed of our missteps, we are finally ready to begin the New Year. And yet, just days later, we are called upon to ritually shed our transgressions. In other words, there is an assumption that, in the days between Yom Kippur and Shmini Atzeret, we have yet again “missed the mark.”
Each of us, Judaism teaches through the juxtaposition of Yom Kippur and Shmini Atzeret, is imperfect. And, despite our best intentions, we make mistakes. But those mistakes aren’t scarlet letters we will carry forever, because teshuvah—repentance—atonement and forgiveness are available to us at all times, not just on Yom Kippur.
Whether or not we are perfect is not the measure of our character according to Judaism. None of us is. Instead, the measure of our character is found in our willingness to recognize when our actions or words may be hurtful to others and then take the steps to repair the damage we may have inadvertently done. Moreover, because none of us is perfect, we are called upon to open our hearts to those who may have hurt us and allow them the space to make amends.
As many have pointed out, Whoopi Goldberg’s comments on The View earlier this week were uninformed, inaccurate and hurtful. But they were not malicious. They reflect the fact that, as many have written, Judaism defies today’s “categories.” As Yair Rosenberg notes in the Atlantic :
“Goldberg is not an anti-Semite, but she was confused—and understandably so. In my experience, mistakes like hers often happen because well-meaning people have trouble fitting Jews into their usual boxes. They don’t know how to define Jews, and so they resort to their own frames of reference, like “race” or “religion,” and project them onto the Jewish experience. But Jewish identity doesn’t conform to Western categories, despite centuries of attempts by society to shoehorn it in. This makes sense, because Judaism predates Western categories. It’s not quite a religion, because one can be Jewish regardless of observance or specific belief. (Einstein, for example, was proudly Jewish but not religiously observant.) But it’s also not quite a race, because people can convert in! It’s not merely a culture or an ethnicity, because that leaves out all the religious components. And it’s not simply a nationality, because although Jews do have a homeland and many identify as part of a nation, others do not.
Instead, Judaism is an amalgam of all these things—more like a family (into which one can be adopted) than a sectarian Western faith tradition—and so there’s no great way to classify it in English. A lot of confusion results from attempts to reduce this complexity to something more palatable for contemporary conceptions.”
But while Goldberg’s comments were inaccurate, they revealed a blindspot, not an antisemitic worldview. And she immediately took steps, cumbersome as they were at times, to educate herself and to do teshuvah, to make amends. Yet, despite the efforts she was making, she was kicked off the show for two weeks. That response is, I would argue, anathema to the very essence of Judaism… no matter how you define it.
Sadly, this is just one example of a society that is becoming more like Pharaoh than Moses. There is a hardening of our hearts and a willingness to judge others by their worst moments. And it is wrong. When people are vilified for one misstep or are fired or forced to resign because of a social media post from years before, we don’t make society better. We make it more callous.
I’m not speaking about people who are intentionally malicious or hurtful. None of this applies when the intent is to cause harm. But there needs to be space for us to recover from missteps. Because if there isn’t, all of us will find ourselves under attack at some point.
As our tradition teaches, even during the few days between Yom Kippur and Shmini Atzeret, we will make mistakes. Because that’s what humans do. So let’s not judge each other by our worst moments. Let’s create the space for us to learn and grow. And that begins with hearts that are open to the imperfect humanity of others.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Daniel Cohen