Dear Members and Friends,

As we count each day of the Omer from Passover to Shavuot, we are reminded of an essential (if not the most important) Jewish concept — learning to separate and set aside. We count 49 days from Passover to Shavuot, separating and setting aside each day. After all, that’s how God created the world — separating light and darkness, water from water, and six days from the seventh. So being godly is to know how to separate. But can we take it too far? Separation is a hard concept for the modern ear to hear, mainly because it’s often associated with discrimination. So where do we draw the line?

We recently read Parashat Emor, which takes this idea far. “The Lord spoke to Moses, saying ‘Speak to Aaron and say: Any man of your offspring throughout the ages who has any defect shall not be qualified to offer the food of his God… No man who is blind, or lame, or has a limb too short or too long. No man who has a broken leg or a broken arm, or who is a hunchback, or a dwarf, or who has a growth in his eye, or who has a boil-scar, or scurvy, or crushed testes… He may eat of the food of his God… but he shall not enter behind the curtain or come near the alter, for he has a defect.’” (Leviticus 21:17-23)

This is extremely strict, no doubt — setting aside only a particular class of people, all perfect. One of the oddities here seems to be that the perfection speaks only to the physical side of the candidates and nothing regarding their mental or spiritual qualities. In an age of pluralism, this seems to go against our grain. However, we can still see many places where similar practice is maintained. For example, joining elite units in the military requires one to be in perfect shape, in many cases still only men. In many religious institutions, Jewish and others, only a particular group is qualified to serve in the house of God. I was also reminded of this separation on my visit to Vatican City a few months ago when I observed the Swiss Guards surrounding the plaza. The most diverse detail about them was the color of their uniforms. Otherwise, they all seem to fit a similar frame.

One of the ideas behind this religious restriction relates to the Kohanim — the priests — who are sacrificing on behalf of the people; similar to the sacrifices, they themselves have to be perfect. Being less than perfect may give people the impression that their sacrifices are not being channeled perfectly. Being less than perfect may even affect the priests themselves who, when they bring the sacrifices, are aware of their own imperfections. They would feel awkward and would not be able to serve appropriately.

But what if the world came to a time when people would not feel awkward about being short or tall, black or white, man or woman? There will always be places where some type of uniformity should be maintained. (Would the Rockettes be so spectacular if they were not uniform?) But where it can, this should change. Can it change in the House of God?

I am writing this message while attending the annual convention of the Rabbinical Assembly of Conservative Judaism, this year taking place in Manhattan. Last night, we honored the class of ‘66 — rabbis who have been serving for 50 years. Representing the class was Rabbi Joel Meyers, who gave a compelling speech.  On the stage behind him were sitting his distinguished classmates. All of them were pretty much the same age, pretty much all with facial hair and —you guessed right — they were also all men. My classmate Rabbi Dahlia Bernstein and I were quickly doing the math to determine when women would sit on that stage. If you are wondering, that will occur in 2035, 19 years from now; the first women were ordained in 1985.

1985The Torah does not contain punctuation. The difference between a Biblical verse and a grammatical sentence is that the former does not have a period. And there is a reason for that. It’s true that learning to separate is central to Jewish life and to living a holy life, but quoting a beautiful phrase: Let’s not put a period where God might have only intended for a comma. While Rabbi Meyers was speaking, I couldn’t avoid taking the photo accompanying this article. Equally as beautiful as his words were the faces of the little girls sitting on the stairs below wearing yarmulkes, looking up at him, looking up to their future.

Happy Lag BaOmer.

—Rabbi Gadi Capela

P.S. Look who I found at the convention…

friends

Good friends get together…

Rabbi Myron Fenster and his wife, Ricky, met up with Rabbi Gadi at the Rabbinical Assembly of Conservative Judaism convention. Rabbi Fenster served our congregation during the four-year interregnum prior to Rabbi Gadi’s arrival.