EREV ROSH HASHANAH 5767 SERMON AT EDINBURGH LIBERAL JEWISH COMMUNITY

LIVING WITH UNCERTAINTY

Shanah Tovah oom’tukah: A Good and a Sweet Year; Ramadhan kareem v’mubarak: A Holy and Blessed Ramadhan.

It is rare to be able to recite such a dual greeting two years running but for technical calendrical reasons it is possible to do so. The Muslim calendar is wholly lunar (unlike the Jewish one which is a hybrid creature of both moon and sun) and thus Ramadhan moves around the solar year. I am no mathematician and, therefore, cannot work out why this is the second year running that Ramadhan has coincided with the Rosh HaShanah weekend but, as millions of Jews either return to shul to begin the traditional second day or have returned from their Liberal tashlich ritual, elsewhere on the globe in millions of homes and mosques more than a billion Muslims will gather to prepare for the fast of Ramadhan. Although I am sure the coincidence has happened countless times before, as we reflect on the past year and look to the coming one, the poignancy of the coincidence is obvious.

Before I come to my theme permit me just to reflect on where I am. For seventeen of the last eighteen years now has been a moment for me to reflect on the past year and in so doing lay out the themes of a series of sermons to my own congregants at the Kingston Liberal Synagogue. Last Rosh Hashanah I assisted Rabbi Andrew Goldstein at Northwood & Pinner Liberal Synagogue, one of Liberal Judaism’s largest constituents. This year I am honoured and delighted to be at Edinburgh Liberal Jewish Community which when the Officers hear my plans will soon be one of the largest…

As I look back over the past year, so many themes emerge. If we look to the Middle East, the birthplace of our great faith, Judaism, and of Islam, we might reflect on the recent Israel/Lebanon conflict (and I was in Northern Israel during ‘the final push’) and its likely impact on the peace process; if we look to Europe we might consider the progress of Liberal Judaism in Germany (where only last week in Dresden I was privileged to share in the first ordination ceremony since the Nazis closed the Hochschule in 1942) or the possibility of the accession of Turkey to the European Union; and, if we came closer to home to our own community, I guess, since this is my first visit to Edinburgh, I could be forgiven for some reflections on the future of Liberal Judaism under its newish Chief Executive.

All possible themes for tonight which might or might not capture your interest but I was actually struck by a comment of my friend and colleague, Rabbi Mark Winer of the West London Synagogue who reminded me that in the twentieth century more men and women have lost their lives in the cause of religion or, as I choose to describe it, in the causes of religious bigotry or foolish certainty! Of course, religion is tied with politics, personal envy and national pride, and, just as religion promotes so many of the decent human values, so is it used to give a smokescreen for each and every grubby motive.

Is the current dispute between the Pope and Islamic scholars a religious one? Is Wednesday’s contretemps between Home Secretary, John Reid, and his hecklers a religious dialogue? Was the kidnapping of Israeli soldiers by Hezbollah and the resulting incursion into Lebanon by the Israeli Defence Forces in origin a religious conflict?

Whether religious or not there certainly is an impact on our daily lives. As I returned from Israel new restrictions on hand luggage had been announced for British airports; as my eighteen year old daughter, Emma, prepared to leave London for a year of study in Israel I was asked whether I would let her go. I do not have a lot in say in what she does but she is arguably as safe in Jerusalem as she is travelling on the London tube network or crossing the road in rush hour Manchester. Truth to be told, our hold on life is fragile – perhaps it always was so but modern media enables us to confront that fact each moment of the day.

For our Biblical ancestors the world was an uncertain place. The fear of flood –and the attempt to overcome it- is evident in the story of Noah. The fear of disease, both that which attacked people and that which took hold of our buildings, is demonstrated in the Book of Leviticus. Perhaps the fear of rapacious gods resulted in the Hebrew concept of monotheism itself, and if you were an Ishmael or an Isaac in the Book of Genesis perhaps you might be uncertain of the love of your father, our hero Abraham. Traditionally on the first day of Rosh Hashanah Ishmael’s expulsion is read and on the second Isaac’s binding. Keeping only a single day and for very good reasons the Liberal tradition recommends the Binding although the new machzor reintroduced the Ishmael story as an alternative reading, to my great delight.

Nevertheless it fascinates me that, apart from the common origin in Abraham, Judaism and the Arab people which became synonymous with Islam should discover their antecedents in stories, each of which appears to turn upside down the certainty of expectation. In Ishmael’s case he was for a number of years Abraham’s only son, and, although the Torah text does not tells, what can Ishmael have felt as his father sent him away into the inhospitable desert? We might ask a similar question of Isaac as he is bound and placed on an altar.

It seems to me that if we reflect on the events of last year and look to the coming year, it is in terms of our relations with the Muslim community that, in spite of the inevitable difficulties, we must try harder. We must do so for pragmatic, historical, ideological and, perhaps a rarely used word in Liberal circles, messianic reasons.

Let us first look simply at the numbers. There are some two billion Christians in the world and the number is rising. There are some one and a quarter billion Muslims in the globe and the number is rising. There are perhaps some fourteen million Jews in the world, a figure that is certainly not rising. The largest number of Jews (some five million) in a single nation state now lives in the State of Israel, alongside nearly a million Muslim (Israeli Arabs), never mind that Muslims make up the overwhelming majorities of the populations to Israel’s northern, eastern and southern borders.

Pragmatism alone would lead us to seek to understand and indeed influence Islam. Where would we begin? Perhaps not at the traditional starting place of Abraham but with the experiences of his two sons, both of whom undergo a traumatic, unexpected, disconcerting episode in which their father appears to ‘offer’ each one of them at the call of the One, Omnipotent, All-seeing but unseen God. As I explored some commentaries on the Akedah my attention was drawn to this comment by the philosopher, Immanuel Kant (1724-1804):

It is quite certain that I ought not to kill my
innocent son, but I am not certain and I can
never become certain that you, the ‘you’
who is appearing to me, is God?

What a powerful thought for Jewish-Muslim dialogue. There are things which are certain and we can agree upon and there are other matters which must necessarily be matters of modesty and humility.

Thus Jews and Muslims can agree that the targeting of civilians going about their daily lives is wrong in all and every circumstance. There are no ifs or buts and no extenuating circumstances. Those who do so –in the name of any cause or faith- are no heroes or martyrs but the most selfish of individuals who carry out such barbarity for their own reward and in contravention of a basic principle of both Judaism and Islam: the value of each human life, created in the image of God. That is why I urged Liberal Jews to support the work of the Red Cross in Lebanon so that civilians could be evacuated and provided with temporary food and shelter.

There are other concepts common to both Judaism and Islam. The Talmudic concept dina malchuta dina: the law of the land is the law implies that, except in the extreme cases of denial of freedom of religion or the absence of a fair justice system, it is the responsibility of the Jew or the Muslim to be loyal to the community amongst whom she or he lives. That is why I was privileged to chair the afternoon session of the first ever Imams and Rabbis Conference convened by the Home Office.

Of course, there are more difficult issues. The role and status of woman is often seen as an Islamic issue but may perhaps be looked at as a cultural one. The existence of the State of Israel is sometimes perceived as an Islamic issue and may perhaps be understood as an Arab one with no bearing on the large numbers of Muslims from the sub-continent of Pakistan, Bangladesh, and India. That is why I am involved in a project to take prominent Muslims to Israel.

What of the unpleasant Quaranic texts about Jews? How do we balance them with the complimentary ones? And how do we ‘judge’ the Quran? On a single verse? In context? Taking an overall picture? Just think how we Jews bristle when we hear an uninformed Christian quote ‘An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth …’ to portray either Jews or the ‘God of the Old Testament’ as vengeful? Select a verse out of context and ignore how it has been understood in its adherents’ history and you can probably reinforce all your fears of the other and paint them in the worst possible light. That is why I am encouraging Jews and Muslims to study together.

Naive I may be and fraught with difficulty the venture may be but in the selections from Pirke Avot in Siddur Lev Chadash we find Rabbi Tarfon’s words:

Lo alecha ham’lachah ligmor v’lo atah ven chorin l’hibatel mimenah: You are not required to complete the work but neither are you at liberty to abstain from it Judaism has concepts of real value to bring to the Muslim Jewish dialogue. In its theology Judaism does not require others to be Jews in order to receive whatever reward awaits committed Jews. Thus the twelfth century philosopher Maimonides could declare in his commentary on the Mishnah that ‘The righteous of all peoples have a place in the World to Come.’ Perhaps the traditional distinction between aggadah and halachah might also be of use, and the whole tradition of Scriptural interpretation –including the Rabbis in their more liberal vein-might serve as a useful role model.

Moreover, Liberal Jews may have a unique role to play. First, Liberal Jews have a history of leadership in the work of inter-faith dialogue with the Christian world: the LJS was a co-founder of the oldest such dialogue group in England and for our modest numerical strength Liberal Jews make a vast contribution to the work of local CCJs including chairing four of its more successful branches in Herefordshire, Hillingdon, Lincolnshire and the Dittons (Surrey). Building on that work Liberal Jews across the country are engaging with local Muslims. Members of the Bristol & West Progressive Congregation are lead partners in a new Jewish/Islamic radio station; Rabbi David Hulbert of Bet Tikvah (Barkingside Progressive Synagogue) continues his award winning local inter-faith work; and I am sure your own foster rabbi (whom I was delighted to place with you) Mark Solomon has shared some of his work in this field.

To return to Immanuel Kant: who suggested a type of modesty or humility –nay, uncertainty - in each one of us when we thought we had encountered God. It is this lack of certainty, of fixedness which is a distinctive emphasis of Liberal Judaism and may in the end prove most useful in the Muslim/Jewish experience. Liberal Judaism acknowledges that Judaism, never mind religious expression as a whole, is dynamic, manifold, and so humanly fallible. It can, therefore live with diversity, a multiplicity of opinions, and the mystery of ultimate truth.

Above all Liberal Judaism affirms the universal hope of the Hebrew Prophets for a time in the future when men and women of all faiths and of none will live by opening sura of the Quran and the famous midrash that humanity has a common origin, a single creator and each part of it has the same value as any other part.

In Jewish tradition we learn elsewhere that Rosh Hashanah celebrates the birthday, the beginning, or the creation of the world. The Midrashist once asked, “Why did God create only one Adam and Eve? So that in the future no person could say to another ‘My ancestry is better than yours’.

May that be our mood and our mode of living as I wish you Shanah Tovah Oomtukah: A Year of Good and of Sweetness.

Rabbi Danny Rich 22 September 2006