Revelation
by Rabbi Stephen Howard
This morning we are
poised between Yom Hadin, the Day of Judgement, and Yom Kippur,
the Day of Atonement. Today is Shabbat Shuvah, Sabbath of Repentance.
We have explored three points of Franz Rosenzweig’s Star
of redemption. On Rosh Hashanah evening, we looked at the world,
especially over the past year. On Rosh Hashanah morning, we
looked at creation, and especially how we, as Liberal Jews,
might relate to the Creation story. Last night we looked at
God, and especially how we might relate to God. This morning
it is the turn of Rosenzweig’s fourth point, revelation.
In Hebrew, revelation is Matan Torah, the Giving of Torah.
But let’s not fall into the trap that anyone believes
that that was the beginning and end of it. Even the most orthodox
Jew believes that God continued revealing God’s will after
Sinai, directly through the prophets and indirectly through
the rabbis. Whether Haredi or Liberal, all Jews understand that
revelation is a continuous process.
There is a deep rift in the Jewish people and it is over the
issue of the revelation of the Written Torah, the five books
of Moses. For the Orthodox, God dictated the Torah to Moses
atop Mount Sinai. Moses wrote it down and it has been transmitted,
unchanged, from his time until now. The only exceptions being
the final verses of the Torah, telling of Moses' death, which,
to spare Moses' pain, God dictated to Joshua.
This understanding gives the Torah, for the Orthodox, an unshakeable
authority. The Torah is God’s will, direct, neither diluted
nor distorted. The rest of the history of torah in the wider
sense, is an ongoing attempt to define that will for every situation
of life in which Jews might find themselves. It is all very
well for the Torah to say, ‘Thou shalt not murder,’
but what exactly constitutes murder and how can it be proven?
It is all very well for the Torah to say, ‘You shall leave
the corners of your fields for the poor, the orphan and the
widow,’ but how much of the corner, and what of the poor
who live in towns, far from the fields?
Orthodox Judaism has developed a way of tackling these questions,
a framework that is called Halachah, literally, ‘the Way’.
How flexible that framework is, depends upon those rabbis involved
in adjudicating its decisions. At its best, Halachah expresses
heights of ethical understanding unsurpassed in any other society.
At its worst, it can be obscurantist and unfeeling, condemning
illegitimate children to punishments for which they have committed
no crime, condemning wives whose husbands refuse them religious
divorces, despite giving them civil divorces, to remaining unmarried
for the rest of their lives.
But living in the traditional halachic framework
does give you security and certainty, which many crave in
this world so devoid of either.
On the other side of the rift lies a very different understanding
of the Torah. We Liberal Jews accept the findings of modern
research, archaeological and literary, which indicates that
the Torah was not written all at one time. It was written and
edited over a very long period. Its oldest strands might be
more than four thousand years old. Its newest might by only
2,500 years old. That’s a span of 1,500 years. It was
the work of many authors, all of whom were both inspired by
a wish to express God’s will, and nevertheless embedded
in their own times and cultures.
This gives us a very different understanding of its authority.
It is not literally the word of God, and yet God’s will
is expressed through it, and, yes, through those who sought
to add to its understanding over the subsequent centuries. God’s
will comes to us through the Torah and through our tradition,
but not totally clearly, not without interference. We must continually
wrestle with the question, ‘Is this particular teaching
in the Torah or in our later tradition really God’s will,
or is it merely the transient product of its own time? Does
it stand the test of time? Does it stand the test of living
up to the best of torah? Does it stand up to the test of conscience?
The terrible thing is that in reaching any decision,
we may be wrong. The wonderful thing is that in making any
decision we are actively participating in the ongoing process
of revelation. We are joyfully accepting what is traditionally
called ‘the yoke of Torah’. We are accepting that
there is a God who is the Metzavveh, the One who commands,
and that we are Metzuvvim, those who are commanded. We are
not leaving the Torah up on the shelf because it has been
given but we have not received it, nor are we abdicating our
responsibility, and leaving it to others to tell us what to
do.
Be under no illusion. Our Liberal position is neither easy
nor comfortable. It is not easy because it insists that each
of us participates in the process of revelation. Liberal Judaism
does not mean that we can ‘pick and choose’ in a
lazy fashion what we do and what we don’t do. You can
be any kind of Jew and do that, Orthodox, Masorti, Reform, Liberal
or secular. Even the Ultra-orthodox pick and choose, only they
would prefer to believe that they don’t. Liberal Judaism,
at its best, means that, instead of leaving it to the authority
of tradition or the rabbis, we do what Arthur Waskow calls ‘God-Wrestling’,
fully engaging in exploring God’s will, God’s revelation.
It is not comfortable because it promises no certainties.
It does not tell us what to believe, but opens up many questions.
What do we believe? What moral and ethical principles should
we follow in our lives? How should we treat our fellow human
beings? How should we treat our world? What should we take from
the treasure house of Jewish traditions, customs and ceremonies,
to enhance our own Jewish lives? How should we respond to new
situations? How can we develop our ritual life to deepen and
sanctify it? What new Jewish possibilities can we develop?
The rift is theologically unbridgeable, be clear about that.
No compromise or fudge can make the Torah both the word of God
through Moses, and the work of unknown authors over 1,500 years.
But the rift is humanly bridgeable. There has always been pluralism
within Judaism; Judaism has never been monolithic. There has
never been a time in Jewish history when every Jew everywhere
believed exactly the same thing and followed the same laws and
customs. Belief varies, Halachah varies and customs vary. Today
is no different from any other time in our history. We need
not agree with each other, but we can respect each other. Liberal
Jews can respect orthodox Jews and their belief in the divine
and Mosaic origin of the Torah. Orthodoxy can respect us and
our belief in the human, though inspired, authorship of the
Torah. We can respect each other. In many ways, we can work
together, worship together and celebrate together. We can learn
together and play together. Let’s face it, there are very
few families of members of this congregation who do not have
orthodox relatives, and there are increasingly fewer orthodox
families that do not have Progressive relatives. We are the
same people in the same families.
Today is Shabbat Shuvah, the Sabbath of Repentance, poised
between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. During these ten days,
more than at any other time, we seek to find our way back to
God, and our relationship with God, according to Rosenzweig,
is one of revelation. It is central to the purpose of this season.
Whether we believe in the orthodox approach
or the Liberal approach, the most important thing is that
we engage in the process, however we understand it. The Metzavveh
cannot command, the Mitzvah cannot be a commandment, unless
we feel ourselves Metzuvvim, commanded. Only then do we have
a connection. Only then can we grope for a way back, to return
in teshuvah. Only then does this season become more than an
empty ritual occasion, chosen from the ‘pick and choose’
of Liberal Judaism. Only then can it become what it aspires
to be: a life-changing annual event in our lives.
Life-changing. As important as that. Life-changing. Revelation
is life-changing. The revelation relationship between God and
humanity is life-changing. We are not actors in a performance.
We are not spectators at a show. We are intimately involved
in the relationship between us and a God who gives our lives
meaning. We are told that by an act of love God made us in the
divine image, but by an even greater act of love, God revealed
to us that we are made in the divine image. That divine image,
not physical but spiritual, enables us to receive and resonate
to divine revelation. That image allowed the writers of the
Torah to express God’s revelation in that book. That image,
that spark of Godliness we all carry within us, and which we
have the free will to exercise or repress, allows us to be partners
in the act of creation.
Today we can try to sense that divine image
within us, and through it try to sense God’s never-ending
outpouring of revelation, and through that try to make our
first few faltering steps back in Teshuvah.
Hashivenu Adonai elecha venashuvah. Help us
to return to You, O God, then we shall return. Amen
Rabbi Stephen Howard is rabbi of Southgate Progressive
Synagogue
This sermon was given on Shabbat Shuvah 5764
– 4th October 2003
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