Ways of Looking at Suffering - It's Not Just About You

In the run-up to Rosh Hashanah, I’m sharing reflections inspired by Scott Samuelson’s Seven Ways of Looking at Pointless Suffering. Previous posts are [here - http://rabbionanarrowbridge.blogspot.com/search?q=seven+pointless+suffering]. I’ve been hugely touched by members who have shared their appreciation for these reflections. Thank you.

Actually, for this reflection, I need the full title of the work, “Seven Ways of Looking at Pointless Suffering: What Philosophy Can Tell Us About the Hardest Mystery of All.” I’m not opposed to philosophy. In fact, I quite like it. But the biggest failing in Samuelson’s, generally excellent, book is a classic philosophical failing - a religious book would get this one quite right.

Philosophy books tend to over-value thinking about things, and sometimes it’s more important to do something. Judaism places a greater emphasis on observance of Mitzvot than mental states perhaps for two reasons; one being that an over-emphasis on thinking can become solipsistic - we can lose ourselves in the consideration of our private grief. The other being that doing something for others is, perhaps, the best way of losing sight of our own pain.

‘Tzedekah Ma’avirin Et Roah HaGezerah’ we’ll pray on Monday - ‘charity draws out evil from the decree.’ Suffering is eased by doing things for other people, it’s a curious but glorious oxymoron - the more we give away, the richer we feel. One of the remarkable demands in Judaism is the demand that everyone, even the poorest, need to make financial charitable contributions. There is no-one spared the call to care for others. We feel more joy through bringing joy to the lives of others than serving our own ends. Similarly, we ameliorate our own grief by looking out for others’ suffering. The religious command to consider others is, again, one only rarely heard in the philosophical realm. There are greater, and there are fewer experiences of suffering we all carry. This year, set off the experiences of suffering by doing something for someone else.

Shabbat Shalom,

Shannah Tovah

Rabbi Jeremy

Do We Have to Feed Everyone Who is Hungry?

I'm seeing more beggars on the streets, sitting outside supermarkets on scraps of cardboard, waving paper cups at me as I walk by. And the situation here is nothing compared to the influx of strangers in elsewhere in Europe. We are struggling - us liberal Westerners. We are struggling to live up to the demands of our souls, the demands of every articulation of human rights. We are struggling to know how to make this situation improve. We are struggling to protect our own interests as strangers make their own calls on resources we perceived as 'ours.' And we are struggling to understand the security implications of so many arrivals from Muslim countries. That goes for the entire British community. As Jews, in addition, we are struggling to work out whether we side principally with the indigenous who can advocate for self-protection or the outsider for whom a welcome for other outsiders is a necessary part of what makes this a society in which we wish to live.

The Talmud (Gittin 61) states there is an obligation to assist the non-Jewish poor along with the Jewish poor because of 'darkei shalom - the ways of peace,' but, tantalisingly, it's very difficult to penetrate the inner meaning of this term. On the one hand darkei shalom could be a moral charge, a command to lift all humanity from the grip of suffering and poverty. On the other hand darkei shalom could be a utilitarian piece of advice, be nice to the non-Jews so they won't hate you back. If the obligation to act for the sake of darkei shalom is moral then whether we like or trust these new hungry strangers we are obligated to open our wallets and our hearts. But if the obligation is utilitarian, if this is just political advice, then we can weigh up the pros and cons of today's challenges with cool calculation.

Sifting through the great Rabbinic commentators of our tradition it's hard to understand which stance is more normative. Maimonides in Hilchot Melachim suggests two Biblical prooftexts for the obligation to take care of the non-Jewish poor for reasons of darkei shalom, 'God is good to all in God's mercy,' and 'Her ways are of gentleness and all her paths are of peace.' This seems to be a vote in favour of a universal Jewish morality. But elsewhere in his great legal code (Hilchot Avodah Zarah), we read that darkei shalom obligations only apply 'when Israel is exiled among the nations,' and when Israel has 'the upper hand over the nations' not only do these obligations not apply, but one doesn't even tolerate an idolater to walk the streets. That suggests the driving force behind the principle of darkei shalom is solely the avoidance of enmity. Elsewhere - in commenting on the obligation to stand in honour of the funeral procession of a non-Jew (another obligation imposed, in the Talmud, because of darkei shalom) it seems that Joseph Caro sides with the universalists and the Bach sides with the utilitarians. It is complex.

Ultimately, I side with the moralists, partly because of my deepest conviction that the image of God resides in all of humanity, and partly because of the deep belief that our redemption from slavery has to stand for more than our narrowest sense of self-interest. Our journey from bondage to freedom cannot be secured when others are left in darkness.

These are mighty - and eminently Seder-night-suitable - questions. They are questions about how we understand ourselves as Jews living in twenty-first century Britain. I hope their discussion can enrich your engagement with this most special part of our journey through the Jewish year. I hope you will side with me, with the moralists. And I hope that your intellectual engagement will drive a practical, and equally a financial, commitment to be involved in the bettering of the lives of today's strangers. In particular I am delighted to commend the work of World Jewish Relief supporting both impoverished Jewish communities and non-Jewish refugee communities in our name, and for the sake of darkei shalom. Please look at their web site and consider supporting their important work.

Our actions and charitable gifts won't solve the problems of the hungry, but it will allow us to utter the words, 'may all who are hungry come and eat,' with a degree of honesty and the sense of pride we should feel at the Seder night.

2nd Day RH Sermon - Tzedakah and This Community

Yesterday I spoke about Israel and relationships.

Today I want to talk about this country, this community and Tzedakah

The good news is I’m not after your money.

Giving away money is tremendously important but Tzedakah is mistranslated as charitable financial giving. It means more than that.

Nor is Tzedakah to be equated with acts of loving kindness - doing nice things for people who need our help is also important, but it’s also not Tzedakah.

 

Pursuing Tzedakah means we must participate in the creation of a just society.

 

And the Bible takes the command to pursue Tzedakah so seriously we’re commanded to do something about it twice in one verse.

Tzedek Tzedek Tirdof demands the Torah

Justice, justice you shall pursue

Why the double use of the term Tzedek, wouldn’t it have been enough to hear the call once?

I wonder if it has something to do with the way Tzedakah makes a sort of land-grab at our lives. It’s a pushy term.

Teshuvah, Tefilah are both so private, so internal, but Tzedakah stretches its tentacles outwards beyond our own lives and into the society we live in.

 

This has been a general election year and I’ve had three experiences, this year, where as a Jew, a Rabbi, I’ve been invited to become part of the national debate; three invitations to engage with the issue of Tzedakah in the public sphere.

 

I was invited to Number 10 Downing Street earlier this year, along with a bunch of other Rabbis and Jewish communal leaders to celebrate the launch of UJIA’s myfund initiative.

The idea behind myfund is that teenagers, and those preparing for a Bar or Bat Mitzvah, should study a curriculum on Jewish attitudes to justice, charitable giving, chose a project to support and then for every pound they raise to give away UJIA will match them pound for pound.

It’s such a novel – and I think brilliant – idea that the Browns invited a bunch of Jews to tea to talk about it.

 

I had the honour of taking part in a pre-General Election hustings attended by the then Prime Minister and the current Prime Minister and Deputy Prime Minister. I was one of the co-chairs as Citizens UK put Messrs Cameron, Clegg and Brown through their paces on their commitments to justice; justice for refugees, justice for the low-waged, justice for those unable to afford a home. You may have seen the coverage.

 

I’ve even been invited to meet with UN General Secretary Ban Ki-Moon at a meeting at Windsor Castle in the run up to the ultimately terribly disappointing Copenhagen Round. And while, in part, averting ecological disaster will require us learning how to depend less carbon - in global terms, thinking about the Environment is an issue of justice.

 

What is going on?

 

Well I don’t think it has much to do with me or even the illustrious history of this community. Nor has there been a mass outbreak of Anglo philo-semitism. Our friends at CST tell us the anti-semitic attacks are at an all time high and, let us not forget, Nick Griffin and his despicable British National Party took over half a million votes in the General Election.

It has to be something else.

 

I want to share three lessons which I think can be learnt from this invitation onto the public stage and the concomitant calls that these lessons make on our lives in the year ahead.

 

Firstly

We, as Jews, have a contribution to make.

I want to take just one example of a distinctive Jewish contribution to one of the most important issues of our time – how should we function as a multi-cultural society. And how should the various cultures assimilate into one another.

We are, of course, proud multi-culturists, we’ve been a refugee community. To some extent we are.

When if comes to issues of how our society, should treat immigrants, refugees, economic migrants …. we have thousands of years of experience suggesting how awkward, different, potentially economically challenging newcomers should be included or what happens when they – we – are excluded.

This is our story.

I was at a training with the Community Organizing group Citizens UK when a sixteen year old Somali refugee – a Muslim from the East End – right round the corner from where my Grandfather lived – asked me if I minded him asking me a question.

He wanted to know why there were so many Jews in the media. That old canard. My hackles stood up, but I didn’t feel I could brush him off with the suggestion of his anti-Semitism, actually – coming from where he came from it seemed a reasonable question. I told him I didn’t know why so many Jews were in important positions in media, business, academia or the rest of it, but I did know that the parents or grandparents of these tycoons lived in the same streets as he did, in the same crummy tenements. Thy experienced the same racism, had the same economic disadvantages, the same difficulties in getting health care, education – actually greater disadvantages, but had worked their way out of the ghetto. We ended up having a conversation about learning English, study, family values and the things a person can learn sitting on the edges of a host community.

 

It could be economics, welfare, ecology, banking, crime any of the big issues facing us today. As Jews, I believe we have distinct insight, we have a contribution to make.

And I believe that society is interested.

 

The second reason I believe Jews are being welcomed to the top table has to do with a shift in the culture of political philosophy.

John Rawls, perhaps the greatest contemporary writer on justice suggested that if we wanted to know what a just society looked like we would have to erect a ‘veil of ignorance.’ You would have to imagine yourself behind the veil, in a place where you didn’t know if you would turn out male or female, black or white, rich or poor. In that ignorant space we would, Rawls thought, determine a truly fair society because we wouldn’t know how we would turn out once the veil was removed. It’s a mighty idea, but it’s been superseded by the mightier insight that suggests that because I am who I am, it makes no sense for me to imagine myself behind a veil of ignorance. I’m never going to think like a woman, a black person, a poor person, a disabled person, so it’s not particularly useful to pretend that I can.

Instead, say thinkers like Reith lecturer and Harvard Professor Michael Sandel, we need to acknowledge we are ‘situated selves’ – we judge society as fair or unfair because we are who we are, in my case male, middle class, white and Jewish. And if we want to create a just society we need proud and clear thinking representatives of the different constituent members in society.

We need women to be women, men to be men. We need black people to be black and rich people to be rich, poor people to be poor. And we need Jewish people to be Jewish. To work out what a just society needs, we need people to speak up and speak from their situation, not pretend they can transcend it.

 

I believe broader society, political society, is learning to respect the situation of its members, rather than impose on all of us that we enter the public sphere stripped of our selves. More to the point there is a recognition that we are truer to our selves because of our situation and that asking us to lose our situated nature makes us a fraud, a pretend normal person – and that’s not helpful to anyone.

Jews are no longer allowed to enter the public sphere (like Disraeli) on the condition that we reject our Jewishness.

Rather we are welcomed into the public sphere precisely because of our distinctiveness – our Jewishness.

 

We have a specifically Jewish contribution to make to creating a just society.

And we are being invited to make that contribution precisely because of our distinctiveness – our Jewishness.

 

And thirdly this.

To my grandparents this was axiomatic.

To my parents’ generation this is still largely practiced.

In the past Jews would ignore what went on in the society around us in the hope that society would ignore us.

‘Keep your head down’ was the motto.

The tale was told of the entirely Jewish jury who, after weeks of deliberating the case of some non-Jew were asked by the judge if they agreed on a verdict.

‘We have, your honour,’ said the foreman,

‘So what is your verdict?’

‘Your honour,’ responded the foreman, ‘we’ve decided we should not mix in.’

 

But this is just not a sense I feel from the younger generation.

I spoke a little about this yesterday, younger Jews want out of the ghetto of pursuing self-interest to the exclusion of all else. We no longer want to judge every agenda from the limited perspective of how it impacts on the Jews.

Of course we need to support our own, our own Shuls and care agencies, but that’s not enough.

Our tradition teaches that we have obligations towards the poor, the ill and the dead of the non-Jews as well as the Jews because – and the Hebrew term is, I think tremendously important – because of Darkei Shalom.^[1]

The term is usually translated as the ‘ways of peace.’

But peace doesn’t convey the true sense of the word Shalom.

Shalom means a sense of completeness.

When we care about the needy around us, when we care about the justice of the society in which we, and our fellows, live. We build a more cohesive shalem society for us all.

It is not a zero sum game.

The more justice there is in society, the better it is for us, as Jews, as citizens.

 

• We have a specifically Jewish contribution to make to creating a just society.
• And we are being invited to make that contribution precisely because of our distinctiveness – our Jewishness.
• And the more we become involved in creating that broader, more just society, the better it will be for us, as Jews and members of that broader society.

 

These three insights make three calls on us.

 

Firstly

If we have a contribution to make to the issues of justice that surround us we have to understand and demonstrate that insight in our day to day actions.

If we feel that our understanding of Shabbat is a useful counter-voice to the all consuming power of market forces, we need to observe Shabbat.

If we feel that our understanding of what it means to be a refugee gives us a useful voice to share with today’s refugees, we need to volunteer our time, support the work in this community of the Separated Child Foundation or Citizens UK.

We must know our tradition and we must live the values of our tradition with integrity. Otherwise we risk forgetting what we should hold most dear, we risk becoming a fraud.

We should never risk becoming a fraud.

 

Secondly, if we are welcomed to contribute to the creation of a just society because of our situated Jewishness we need to take care that we retain our distinctiveness. To those of you who struggled to justify taking a ‘second day off’ to stand with us this Rosh Hashanah morning, I salute you.

To those of you who order your way around a restaurant menu because you don’t eat meat out, I salute you.

To those of you who explain to your demanding employers that you need to leave work on Friday evenings, I salute you.

Because it is through these myriad of small actions that we retain and strengthen our distinctiveness – it is through our acts of Jewish engagement and involvement that we are true to our situation – less a pretend normal person.

We must guard our distinctiveness.

We must be proud to be situated.

 

And, thirdly, we must ‘mix in.’ We must do something just.

I’ve spoken a number of times of the work of Citizens UK. They are the organisation behind the end of child detention of refugees, the campaign for a living wage and other important initiatives creating safe streets, opposing sex-shops and more.

I’ve never encountered an organisation that better understands the values of situated selves. I’ve never encountered an organisation so genuinely open to the contributions of its members.

And I don’t think I have ever encountered an organisation that is as powerful and capable of creating the just society I want to live in.

Of the 150 member organisations of London Citizens – the Churches, Mosques, Residents Associations, Schools and the like there are no Synagogues. We should be members, frankly we should be the first Synagogue to join up.

If you are interested in this work, or other justice work in or beyond this community, please let me know.

 

The pursuit of Justice requires us to live out the values of our tradition.

It requires us to be situated, distinct and proud of who we are and where we come from.

And it requires us to act Justly in creating a broader more just society.

 

And while I make no promise that living a life more infused by Tzedakah in this coming year will guarantee us a Gezerah Metukah – a sweet decree.

It will make the world sweeter for others, and that makes us more worthy of being inscribed for the year of health and happiness for which we all dream.

 

May it come to us all.

 

Shannah Tovah

 

---

^[1] Tosefta Gittin 3:13-14, TB Gittin 71a, Mishneh Sheviit 4:3, Rambam MT Hil Avel 14:12, Hil Matanot 1:9, etc.

Mitzvah Day is Coming

 

Four weeks ago I used these weekly words to offer a view of a series of New London events that I hoped would light up this dark time of year. From the Friday night dinner jointly hosted with Tzedek, to the Interfaith panel on Prayer, to last week’s talk with Reb Zalman I have been honoured and delighted to feel and share the sheer quality of our engagement, as a community, in such vibrant and important programming.

 

In the last week we started our major series of evening classes on Prayer. This Monday evening at 8pm, Stephen Cotsen will be teaching on the Kedushah. It is the highpoint of our prayers, both spiritually and musically and I know we have a treat in store. All are most welcome.

 

And then on Sunday we have Mitzvah Day. New London is joining well over 100 other Jewish communities and organisations volunteering and engaging in projects to improve the lot of those less fortunate. New London’s project grows out of our ancient commitment to the refugees – the stranger in our midst – for we were once strangers in a strange land. In more recent years our project has been influenced by our relationship with the Separated Child Foundation, founded to honour the memory of our member Ester Gluck z’tl.

 

We are asking for stuff; anything non-electrical or non-perishable that a refugee could use; clothes, tins, rice and pulses, nappies, phone cards …

You can bring donations in the morning or early afternoon.

And then be part of the packing and sorting from 12:30pm onwards.

 

I’m delighted we are involved in Mitzvah Day. I’m delighted we are supporting refugees communities. I just hope that we, as a community will take this opportunity to come, to bring and to volunteer.

 

Shabbat shalom,

 

Rabbi Jeremy

 

A Good TIme to Give

To my shame I won’t be giving a sermon on Tzedakah this Rosh Hashanah - Yom Kippur season.

I have my reasons, other things to speak on, but I’m not sure I could justify them before those who benefit from the support we provide to so many important causes.

 ‘Benefit’ is probably the wrong word. I’m not sure what I can say to those who need the support we could offer.

 

I received a honeycake in the run up to Rosh Hashanah. It came from a boy who will celebrate his bar mitzvah this year (sadly not at NLS). He was introduced to his now adopted parents through Norwood several years ago and as a social action project to celebrate his coming of age he has been baking honey cakes to raise money so a child who is under the care of Norwood can celebrate their bar mitzvah too.

www.norwood.org.uk

 

I attended a wedding recently where the kippot made available to guests had been sourced from a fair trade co-operative in Tamil Nadu. This was on top of their request that guests make a donation to the Jewish Council for Racial Equality.

www.fairtradekippot.org

www.jcore.org.uk

 

This is the way we should do tzedakah, this is the way we should give tzedakah; as a response to the passing moments of our own life. As the milestones tick past, we should be looking for opportunities to give, opportunities to lead others in giving. Those of you who are members of New London you will have received notice of our Kol Nidrei appeal where we are raising funds to support the work of the Synagogue and the UJIA and of course I feel most passionately about these charities.

But, at this time of year especially, my mail, both electronic and printed, is full of worthy causes, worthier causes than all but a minority of my own spending.

It’s a good time to give.

More than that, it is a lousy time to let slip by without giving, without responding to our obligation to acts of justice and righteousness, tzedek tzedek tirdof - tzedek tzedek tirdof – You shall pursue acts of righteousness.

 

With blessings to all for a good sealing, a good fast and a good year,

 

Rabbi Jeremy

 

A Neilah Sermon - Don't Forget the Horse

Too much thinking can prove problematic.

There is even a problem with too much spiritual investigation.

 

A parable;

Told in the name of the eighteenth century master Reb Simchah Bunam.^[1]

A prince bought a pure-bred stallion and to protect him from thieves, locked him into a stable built of stone.

The stable gate was bolted and guarded by an armed watchman.

One evening the Prince was strolling past the stable and saw the guard was looking perplexed. 'Hey' he called to the guard, 'what's on your mind?'

'There is this question is bothering me,' said the guard, 'when you sink a nail into the wall, where does the mortar go?'

'An important question,' said the prince, 'you do well to think about it.'

And the Prince went to sleep.

But the Prince couldn't sleep and so, some time later, the Prince went out for another stroll and again passed the guard looking perplexed.

'What's on your mind this time?'

'There is another question that is bothering me; when you eat a bagel where does the hole go?'

'Another important question,' said the prince, 'you do well to think about it.'

And the Prince went back to sleep.

But yet again sleep would not come, so yet again, he went out and yet again passed the guard looking perplexed.

'What is on your mind this time?'

'I have another question.' Said the guard, 'I can see the stable and I can see the stone walls and the gate, but the horse - where is the horse?

 

This is the problem of spending too much time in spiritual retreat and intellectual engagement.

We forget that we are supposed to be looking after a horse.

With too much thinking and sitting around we can forget what we are supposed to do.

 

So let me offer one simple and concrete request for action, at this time, this time when the simple and the concrete are the messages we should be hearing and the commitments we should be making to ourselves and our God.

 

I want you to do something before you start to eat this evening.

Doing something before we start eating is a well attested Rabbinic tradition. The medakdekim – the precisely observant amongst us –go home and bang in the first nail of our succah before eating.^[2]

 

But I want to suggest something else.

I want to ask that we go home and write a cheque before we start to eat.

Ach, who does cheques anymore.

Go home, log on, make an on-line donation.

Wait, if you have to, in frustration and hunger for the computer to whirr into life before you allow yourself the luxury of moving on from pull of this day.

 

I've never, in honesty, understood why we call it a Kol Nidrei Appeal, who carries money around on Kol Nidrei?

And then you have a day of ashamnu and bsefer chayim and achat v'achat and before you know it we are stuffing our stomachs full of all the goodies we have done without these past twenty-something hours and then we fall asleep.

And tomorrow we get up and go to work.

If we only speak about giving on Kol Nidrei we leave ourselves too many opportunities to forget about the horse.

 

So let me speak about money tonight and ask for action tonight so there is less time to forget, less time to lose the momentary impulse we might feel to support charities facing, this year, the same ferocious economic climate in which we all find ourselves.

 

We have chosen, this year, our own Shul and the UJIA as the charities we would wish you to support most strongly.

New London Synagogue, your Jewish Community – you can't pull off a day like this without office staff, without a full time Chazan, without a year-round choir. That costs.

We have a conversion programme bursting at the seams, an influx of new young adult members, we've had fifteen baby-naming ceremonies since I have been here; parents and toddlers turning to us to help them find meaningful points of entry into Jewish life and community. We are taking our pastoral responsibilities more seriously.

It all costs.

This autumn we are launching our education programme, we want to return New London to its rightful place as the centre for the most important conversations in Anglo-Jewry, the most important conversations in the global search for a place to stand between the rival poles of rampant secularism and religious fundamentalism.

New London is uniquely placed to be that centre, this is a challenge we must rise to meet. And it is a challenge that costs.

 

And our second beneficiary

We ask for support for the UJIA with whom we are building a resource centre in the Galil, the north of Israel, a centre which will bear the name of our beloved founder Rabbi.

And aside from honouring the memory of Rabbi Dr Louis Jacobs zichrono livracha.

And aside from helping some of our least advantaged brothers and sisters in a troubled land we all treat as home,

Aside from all this, this resource centre is part of a bigger effort to ensure that the Galil becomes a place where young Jews can find education, employment and a future.

For a Galil void of these things threatens the very soul of the State of Israel.

And that costs.

 

Go home and before you start eating support this. Support us. Support these.

 

Actually I don't even mind if you find a different charity to support.

I have a folder, in my office, with letters from a vast range of worthy organisations. Each asked me, asked us, to include them in our Kol Nidrei Appeal.

Each includes sometimes harrowing, sometimes moving accounts of the work they do and the even more extraordinary work they wish they could do.

And these letters haunt me. Let them haunt you.

 

British Friends of Neve-Shalom, Wahat al-Salaam

British Wizo

JAMI – The Jewish Association for the Mentally Ill

JAT, formerly the Jewish Aids Trust

Jewish Women's Aid

New Israel Fund

Nightingale House

Norwood

One Plus One Association of Immigrant Youth

The Ashdod Emergency Medical Centre

The Bar / Bat Mitzvah programme for Children with Special Needs run by the Masorti Movement in Israel

The Jewish Bereavement Counselling Service

The Jewish Council for Racial Equality

Tzedek

World Jewish Relief

It's not even the full list, I lost some letters.

Al cheit shechatati, for the sin I have committed ….

 

Hey, you could even give money to an organisation that has nothing to do with Jews at all.

That too would count.

You want to give money to cure cancer, care for the needy in this country or abroad, you want to give money to for any charitable purpose, that is fine.

 

Just do this.

Go home, write the cheque,

Before you feed your own needs - give.

Begin this Year with an act of generosity.

Now.

Before we forget or get distracted or overly satiated.

 

I know. It doesn't feel like a good time to giving money, we are all feeling a little spooked by the financial collapses out there.

So let me share some Torah to give us strength.

 

We all have to give, says the Talmud, אפי' עני המתפרנס מן הצדקה יעשה צדקה – even one who survives solely on charitable handouts has an obligation to perform acts of financial giving.^[3]

There is no level of financial destitution that absolves us of the need to support others.

 

And as for those of us in the blessed fortunate position of being a step or more away from destitution, let me offer this.

 

Rambam, in his laws of gifts to the needy, examines the obligation to leave the corners of the fields for the poor.

How much of a corner do you have to leave? He asks^[4]

There is, according to the Bible, no minimal amount.

According to the Bible you could leave a single sheaf and fulfil the obligation, but the Rabbis mandated that we must leave at least one sixtieth of our crop.

ומוסיף על האחד מששים

לפי גודל השדה

ולפי רוב העניים

ולפי ברכת הזרע,

And we add to that 1/60^th depending on the size of our field, the scale of poverty and the blessing of our crop's yield.

 

It's not a bad way to approach how much to give.

Regardless of the size of your field or the bounty of our harvest you have to leave a 60^th.

If our field is larger, we have to give more.

And if the needs of the poor are great, we have to give more.

If we are having a good year, we have to give more, maybe we are not having such a good year, but this is only one part of the equation. It must not be allowed to overshadow all else.

 

I'm going easy on us here. When it comes to tzedakah most Rabbis talk about the obligation to tithe – a tenth, but my sense is that tithing applies in a world free of taxation.

So it's a 1/60^th, plus.

 

For many of us it is not a great year, I'll accept that.

But the needs of the poor are definitely great, and may be increasing at a faster rate than our share portfolios are shrinking.

And for most of us our fields are still pretty large.

It's a 1/60^th plus.

 

Let me share one last text, before the gates close

There are four kinds of person, say the Rabbis of the Mishnah^[5]

One is the person who says,

שלי שלי ושלך שלך

 what is mine is mine and what is yours is yours - 

 

Some of the Rabbis say this is acceptable mediocrity, but yesh omrim – there are those that sheli sheli vshelcha shelcha is the way of Sodom.

There are those who say that the attitude

what is mine is mine and what is yours is yours -

Is the attitude of a city so evil it needed to be wiped from the face of the earth.

 

The attitude

 what is mine is mine and what is yours is yours - 

is an abdication of the notion that other people, other needs, impact upon me.

It is a sealing myself off from these other needs.

And we are back where we started, ten days ago when we began this magical journey.

Back at the sermon I gave on the first day of Rosh Hashanah, the sermon where I asked us to allow ourselves to be broken in upon, affected by those around us.^[6]

 

'What is mine is mine and what is yours is yours' will not do.

Even if we aren't feeling generous, even if we are scared for the value of our portfolio.

It's still 1/60^th plus.

 

We have some last moments of prayer together.

Before the gates close we should let our souls to be touched once more by this glorious liturgy.

We should reflect once more on our failings and our opportunities for improvement.

We should reflect once more on our mortality and the lives of those we have loved and lost.

And then we should go home.

And we should remember the horse.

And we should write out a cheque and only then eat.

And then, please God, we should be blessed to get on with a year of health, sweetness and joy.

 

Gemar Chatimah Tovah – may it come to us all.

---

^[1] Retold based on Elie Wiesel, Souls  on Fire p. 224

^[2] Rema OH 624:5

^[3] TB Gittin 7b

^[4] MT Matanot Levyanim 1:15

^[5] Avot 5:10

^[6] http://rabbionanarrowbridge.blogspot.com/2008/10/judaism-in-first-person-plural.html

Get Ready .... Go

These are my first High Holydays as Rabbi of New London and I am nervous and working hard to prepare for the days to come. But this sense of nervousness and this need for preparation has to be something we all share – you and I. Rosh Hashanah demands preparation. Even the prayers themselves have been in preparation this past month. A new Psalm has crept into the Evening and Morning prayers and, on weekdays, the blast of the Shofar heralds Rosh Hashanah’ approach. We are called upon to get ready.

 

Ready for what?

We need to be ready to stand before our Creator with the work of our lives in our hands; the moments of loving kindness, selfless service and commitment and the moments of selfish failure, greed and anger.

There’s a lot to stack up, in the ledgers of our existence; too much to rush into, straight off the street. We need to be in training. So let me offer two training methods. One requires your pocket, the other, as my American friends would say, the seat of your pants.

 

Sit.

Go somewhere the rush of the world doesn’t reach. Personally, I can’t recommend Synagogue highly enough. Come and sit and let the prayers wash over you, around you. It really doesn’t matter that they are in a foreign language. Use the liturgy to block out the noise of the everyday and allow the important relationships of your life to crystalise, hold you and move you. Allow the stillness to do its work. We are, in this day and age, terribly bad at sitting. We are, in this day and age, not so great at tending the important relationships of our life – our inter-personal relationships and our relationships with our Creator and our fragile Universe. So find a place to sit and reflect.

 

Secondly give something away.

There is a wonderful moment in Tony Hancock’s ‘Blood Donor’ where our hero, having just donated ‘nearly an armful’ of blood, whips out his little black book in which he has written all the financial gifts he has made to charity and enquires how much a pint should be worth. It’s a provocative suggestion, but our attachment to material things and personal possessions can indeed be measured with this sort of precision. Becoming generous with our material possessions promotes, with stark clarity, generosity of the soul. Rabbi Harold Kushner writes that, when asked, what a person should do to take a step towards greater spiritual seriousness, he always replies – give away more money than you think you can afford. We live in a delicate and battered world. There is so much that deserves out support; organisations that tend to the physical needs and those that tend to the needs of the soul. Members of New London will hear more about our Kol Nidrei Appeal. Other requests will tumble in, no doubt, through letterbox and e-mail in-box. Our acts of generosity don’t guarantee any great change of fortune in the year ahead, but I do promise this, they will make us kinder, better and more worthy of the grace and favour we seek.

 

Prepare well and we will merit what Josephine, Carmi, Harry and I wish for us all; a sweet, happy and healthy year, lshanah tovah.

 

Rabbi Jeremy