Sinai, Sacred Text & Two Tanachim
Erev Rosh Hashanah 5776 - September 13, 2015
In the small shtetl of Kock - known to most as Kotzk, north of Lublin, Poland, a small Jewish community was established in the 17th century. This was the long time home of the great Rabbi Menahem Mendl of Kotzk - the Kotzker Rebbe. There are so many great lessons our tradition has gained form the Kotzker Rebbe’s legacy. We learned that while the dwelling place of God is throughout the world, his teachings enlightened us to know that God truly dwells wherever we let God in. From his teachings we recognize so much of our role…that while God may take care of our souls, it is upon us to care for our bodies and our world.
In the shtetl of Kotzk, Jews embraced his teachings, they took upon themselves the heritage of the Hasidim. In the decades leading up to the Second World War, many of the Jews of Kotzk recognized that their future was becoming more and more grim. They began dispersing, seeking family connections abroad - fleeing Europe. There is a tale of one family, whose name has been lost to history, but their tale remains strong. The patriarch of the family had decided to remain in Kotzk and face whatever reality came his way. As part of his decision, he commissioned two beautiful Tanachim, Jewish Bibles, to be printed and bound with a beautiful ornate cover. Their bindings were identical, complete with stones inlaid, silver etchings and adornments hinting at the beauty of the story and teachings of our People held within their pages. This man called his two granddaughters to his home as they were readying to leave for America. As they had done many times before, the three of them sat and studied Torah together. While many were learned Jews in Kotzk, it was new and progressive to engage daughters and granddaughters in the study of Torah, yet, this man understood the power of learning and the potential of our story - its value to everyone.
This particular morning, they studied the story of our ancestor Abram. They began with the story of Lech Lecha - Go Forth. The twelfth chapter of Genesis when Abram hears the call and heads out on the sojourn that began our story…that eventually leads us here to this moment. They engaged in exploring the moment with Abram and Sarai become Abraham and Sarah. That transition when they become the progenitors of our great tradition, Our People - Am Israel - The People of Israel.
At the end of their time together, the grandfather excused himself for a moment, saying he had something for them to carry along…to treasure upon their new lives in America. Both granddaughters had been married and one already had a young child. Their beloved Zeyde returned with the two Tanachim, the two Bibles. He unveiled them and displayed them to his granddaughters and to the obvious awe and wonder on their faces. He explained that his purpose was to ensure they treasured learning, stories and Torah in their new lives equal to and beyond the treasures shown on their covers, their bindings. He hoped and prayed they would instill in future generations the importance of Judaism.
As they concluded their study in tears, emotional at what was sure to be their final goodbye, they embraced and the two woman walked to their homes arm in arm sharing their anxieties and hopes about the days and years ahead. They committed to stay together as long as life would allow. A few months later, they both arrived in the New Country. One settled in Chicago and the other with the young child in Milwaukee…nearby to one another and close enough to even share family simchas. As the years passed they instilled in their own children the importance of Torah, of Judaism and of leading good lives. Some time after the two women had died, their great grandsons were preparing for their Bar Mitzvah celebrations. The two tanachim had been passed through the generations, each family embracing Torah in their own ways and treasuring these possessions. Upon the occasion of their upcoming Bar Mitzvahs, the two grandsons, these cousins, were given as gifts the tanachim by their grandparents. Their families decided they would study their portions from these gifts together. As they sat together, they opened their Tanachim and one boy was wowed by the yellowed, but beautifully intact pages. He could easily see some pages were read heavily through the years and others barely touched, but the binding was well broken in. His cousin began to open his Tanach, realizing the binding had barely, if ever, been stretched. As he opened it, many of the pages had withered almost completely away…to dust. Its fragility was apparent from a lack of use…. It had been treasured too much, kept only in safe keeping, barely if ever read, studied or used. Its lack of use had made it illegible.
The great sage of the Mishnah, and probably the one with the most fun name, Rabbi Ben Bag Bag taught us: Turn it and turn it for everything is in. Reflect on it and grow old and gray with it. Don’t turn from it, for nothing is better than it.” In this teaching, we recognize our tradition’s way of valuing study, and in particular the study of Torah. It is a story, a collection of teachings that guide our way. While many of the laws and commands may have become outmoded through the years, they remain the backbone and foundation of our Jewish tradition.
Our Torah, our Tanach, and our sacred text, the teachings of our rabbis and tradition, are amazing, sacred and beautiful. The study and engagement with our story, and its teachings, first and foremost is the task of being Jewish. We do this in so many ways. We engage when we join in Torah study, in the formal way. And ask any of our regular Torah studiers - it can been quite a lively time! Yet, that is not the only way. When our parents teach us to honor them - they are teaching Torah. When we engage in Social Justice, we are sharing what we have learned and inspiring others to Torah. By being stewards to our world, we live and learn the principles of Torah. Being Jewish, engaging with Torah is participating in an age old conversation and activity, one that spans generations. When we consider the views of Spinoza, Maimonides, Shimon bar Yochai, our own Shabbat school and Sunday school teachers, and so many others, we are living that dialogue. We do this with all those before us at our side, on our shoulders, or us on theirs, we hold them and their ideas and ideals in our minds, our memories and within our hearts and souls. That is the meaning of Torah study…of what it means to be Jewish today and in every generation.
I often ask B’nai Mitzvah students what makes Torah special. After all, it is considered so special we read it and read it again each year. We move at the end of this High Holy Day season back to the beginning to start again. Many talk about the novels they love and books they read again and again, we can all remember that in recent memory the Harry Potter generation! The conversations circle and circle the original question, why is it that the text and scripture of our Jewish tradition is held to a different level, given this special place. Ultimately, the discussion settles in a similar place each time. We hone in on the reality that as far back in their families as most of them can discern, their parents, grandparents, great-grandparents - their ancestors have read, and re-read this same text. That they link themselves in the shalshelet hakabbalah - the chain of tradition each time we scroll through the Torah.
Once we establish what makes it different, in marketing terms - the Torah’s point of difference is the simple fact and reality of its longevity, the next question becomes understanding what this means for us today. It has this status simply because of its treasured position. So much of this is attributed to its origins…which ultimately raises another round of questions. These are often explored with Bar and Bat Mitzvah students, but this time the parents and even grandparents begin to weigh in. Recently, our own Torah study group began this debate. I say began, because by no stretch of the imagination will we resolve or conclude this part of the discussion.
Our Jewish tradition ascribes the level of revelation to our text, the teachings of Judaism. It was revealed after all on Mt. Sinai upon our people’s exit from Egypt. The experience of the Exodus was not just about changing our situation from slavery to freedom, it was also, we learn, about the freedom to learn and study, to explore and debate this story of our people, the mitzvot - the commandments of our Torah. At first glance, this places Torah at one specific moment in time. It situates the experience of the ink on the parchment as an act of words written…in the past. But, as most things within Judaism, it cannot be that simple. Each Spring we celebrate that moment at Sinai, when we celebrate the holiday of Shavuot. Jewish tradition, from all walks of belief and practice, consider this holiday Zeman Matan Torah - the Time of the Giving of Torah. What is fascinating about this name is that it is the “Giving” of Torah and not the “Time Torah Was Given or Received.” It is not only in the past. Revelation is always ongoing.
How can a text, that is the same each time we read and chant it, be something that is ongoing? Well, we can listen again to Rabbi Ben Bag Bag’s words for insight. He is teaching us that revelation happens every time we “turn it and turn it again.” It occurs when one embraces the text as Divine in origin. It happens when another questions the missing rewards of the mitzvot. We find something revealed when we understand Torah and our text as something written by our ancestors, by human beings. Torah is our people’s memory of our experience and the blueprint for our constantly unfolding story as a people.
On Rosh Hashanah, we engage in what I think of as the most ancient form of a leadership summit. Whether in business, non-profit, education or government, leaders work hard to express vision, mission and setting goals. So many of us here, in our own professional circles, engage at regular intervals, in expressing, stating and re-stating all of these guiding principles. Companies have yearly retreats to ensure they are adhering to their goals. Teachers, at this season, return to their classrooms and re-establish their ground rules with peers, with administrators and certainly with students. Whatever the setting, staying focused, creating shared vision and agreements are paramount to attaining success and efficiency.
Rosh Hashanah is truly not that different. In the book of Nehemiah we learn about this ancient practice and tradition:
“All the people gathered themselves together as one man into the broad place that was before the water gate; and they spoke unto Ezra the scribe to bring the book of the Law of Moses, which the LORD had commanded to Israel. And Ezra the priest brought the Law before the congregation, both men and women, and all that could hear with understanding, upon the first day of the seventh month [Rosh Hashanah]. And he read therein before the broad place that was before the water gate from early morning until midday, in the presence of the men and the women, and of those that could understand; and the ears of all the people were attentive unto the book of the Law.”
This was the space and time to re-engage, to commit to the constant unfolding of our story. Ezra and Nehemiah gave the people the opportunity to stand as one, re-connect and re-affirm the covenant of what it means to be part of this people.
So if this is the moment, what is it that Torah gives in return for us treasuring it? What can we consider this re-affirmation to be about? For some of us it may be one of the three traditional concepts of Rosh Hashanah: God as Creator, God as Ruler and/or God as Judge. Yet, for others it is our responsibility to the tradition, to our ancestors who gave us the gift of Torah and must carry that forward. And even for others still, it is the task of learning, gaining perspective and turning Torah until we see it anew each time.
What does Torah mean for us today? Is it the treasured possession, the one held only in safe keeping whose binding is rarely if ever stretched? The one that withers away, and atrophies form lack of use? Or, is our Torah the one that is yellowed, a bit tattered, maybe missing a few of its in-laid jewels and stones, but one still legible? Legible so that we can continue exploring and elaborating on its meaning and import.
Torah means instruction. On Rosh Hashanah, and throughout the year, we are to question not the origins of this amazing and beautiful text, not whether or not we adhere to its commands - to the letter, but more so about our re-affirmation of that covenant, that bond among the Jewish people. To continually contribute to our story - being part of the mishpacha - the family of the Jewish people. To turn the words of Torah again and again to ensure the lessons of our past and that they may continually inform our lives.
In 5776 may we commit to ensure our Judaism is not the one so guarded it becomes dried out, unusable and disintegrated, but may our Judaism be the one that is supple, loved…and used.
Shanah Tova U’Mitukah
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