Finding Freedom

August 29, 2008
Rabbi Seymour Rossel

In the sixth century BCE.,  the leaders of the Jewish people were living in exile in Babylonia. Some had been enslaved at first, but when the Babylonian empire passed into the hands of the Persian kings, most Jews were able to prosper. Many became landowners and some became wealthy. A few Jews even rose to levels of political importance, becoming advisers and cohorts of the king. The old priesthood of the First Temple found a new way of expressing their religious yearnings -- they formed a kind of new social class, calling themselves the Soferim or "scribes."

Many historians believe that whole sections of the Torah were reworked by these Soferim, so that when Ezra the Scribe arrived in Jerusalem, he was carrying a scroll that he called the Sefer Torah, the "Book of Instruction." We presume it was much shorter than what we have now. In fact, it could have been just a part of the Book of Deuteronomy. In any case, Ezra read the whole thing to the gathered crowd in Jerusalem while they stood and listened; and, since they spoke Aramaic and not Hebrew, there were expert translators by his side as he read, translating his words into Aramaic and adding explanations as they translated. For certain, we can be sure that the crowd did not stand long enough to read an entire scroll of the Torah as we know it. It was a far shorter book.

Yet, it was nowhere near as short as the Torah that, six hundred years before, Joshua had written on stones to be set up on a mountainside. That "Torah in stone" may have been little more than Moses' ten commandments. No doubt, the priests had been at work on a longer Torah for many years. One of my friends, Bible scholar Gary Rendsberg, believes that the books of Genesis, Exodus, and Numbers were first recorded in the time of David and Solomon. Many other scholars believe that the Torah evolved out of earlier sources and came together in the days of Hezekiah in the eighth century and in the time of his grandson Josiah in the seventh century.

It was Josiah who ordered that the Temple be cleaned and restored. And it was during this cleansing that a book was found. From the description of the book, it may have been the Book of Deuteronomy, or at least the covenant section which lists the blessings and the curses. Josiah took this discovery very seriously, and rededicated the kingdom and the Temple to the worship of the One God.

After two undistinguished kings, the young Josiah was adored by the people and loved by the priests. He was their Kennedy, their beloved and glamorous hope for the future of the Jewish way of life. And, like Kennedy, he was destined to an untimely death, falling to an archer's arrow as he stood on the hill of the fortress of Megiddo. The Hebrew for the hill of Megiddo is Har Megiddo, and the mention of Har Megiddo was like the mention of Dallas with regard to Kennedy. In fact, it still is, even though the Greek calls it Armaggedon, a single word for the Hebrew Har Megiddo. It stands for the end of all things. But to the Jews of old, it was the actual end of the glory days of the First Temple.

When the Persian kings Cyrus and Darius allowed the Jews to return to their own land, not that many Jews wanted to go. But there was a kind of Zionist movement led by the prophets who circulated among the Jews preaching that God had punished them, but now they would be restored. In this week's Haftarah portion for Re'eh, a prophet whose name we do not know and whose words came to be attached to the book of the prophet Isaiah -- tells the people that the time of punishment is over and the glory of restoration is coming. In this prophet's words, God

will lay red gems as your building stones and sapphires will be your foundations. [God]  will make your battlements of rubies, your gates of precious stones, the whole encircling wall will be of gems. And all your children shall be disciples of Adonai, and great shall be the happiness of your children; you shall be established through righteousness. You shall be safe from oppression and shall have no fear from ruin... (54:11-14).

The people in exile knew that this prophet was speaking in hyperbole, exaggerating the truth. No one really expected that the new Jerusalem would be built out of rubies and sapphires. The jewels were in the eye of the dreamers, those who sat by the rivers of Babylon and dreamt of Zion. But the words have a greater meaning for us today.

As we approach the High Holy Days, we ourselves are in exile. All of us need to be called to the alert. We need to see how we can make our future glisten bright. All year long, we have been drifting. Sometimes, though we are wonderful people, inspired people, we become lazy, indolent, and even nasty. If we have injured others, we know the High Holy Days will not provide forgiveness for that kind of injury. We need to seek out those we have hurt and apologize and make restitution. How can we come before God on Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur if we have unclean hands and a heart heavy with guilt? We are in exile and we must accept our punishment. We must make efforts that we have not made.

Now is the time to give to charities you supported in the past because they still count on you for support. You do not have to give a fortune, not unless you won the lottery. But you need to support those who rely on you and that goes beyond your family. Now is the time to make good on your synagogue pledge and make a new one for the coming year. And what if you find yourself light in the pocketbook, what if you cannot afford to be generous with your own funds? Then, you have to ask those around you to help your synagogue because it is your synagogue and it deserves support. You can sell ads for the Chai Lites newsletter. You can join a committee for one of our many fundraisers and help raise the funds that make up the shortfall. This synagogue makes us a community. It deserves your attention and it deserves your support.

From these walls the world can become a brighter place. Children can be taught in these rooms. You can come to worship and to remember your loved ones in this sanctuary. You can welcome the stranger and make a place for the homeless through the work of our community. But you can do nothing to make the world a better place by withholding. In the Jewish tradition, even a beggar who is entirely supported by the community is required to give tzedakah when the community comes calling.

Put aside your pride and turn the walls of the synagogue into sapphires and rubies. Make the walk up to the door a walk along gemstones and jewels. God promises that "you will be established through righteousness." What you give is supposed to be a sacrifice. It is supposed to feel like a sacrifice. It is supposed to cost you. Because if it does not feel like a sacrifice, if it does not cost you to give it, you are not doing all you can do. You are being less than Jewish. This is the time of the year that you must stretch yourself.

And I can honestly guarantee that what you give will come back to you in riches. You will be rewarded in spirit and maybe even in sustenance. You will be among those who hold their heads up high and say, "I keep this place open," and "I support the work of this place," and "I honor God by being a member of the Jewish people and a member of a loving Jewish community." And you will come to services on Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur as a free person, not a slave. Only a free person can be a caring member of the community. Only a free person can help others. Shake off your shackles and declare your independence. The holy days approach. Now is the time to find your freedom. And let us say: Amen.