From the Rabbi
Rabbi Robert L. Wolkoff
Previous Messages
“The Super Bowl of Life”
Dear Members and Friends,
Two months ago, I went to a football game — for the first time. Someone donated two tickets to the silent auction at our Journal Dinner-Dance, and my friend, Father Roy, won the tickets and invited me to join him. It was his first time as well. I had been to baseball games before, and even though the stadiums are shaped differently, here too, it was hard to ignore the massiveness of this arena. It was as though we were sitting at the ancient Roman Coliseum, watching gladiators in combat. It was a cold day but fairly sunny, and it seemed as though only a few of the 80,000 seats at MetLife Stadium were empty. It was the New York Giants vs. the Carolina Panthers. Yes, that historic game!
After a quick stop at the kosher hotdog stand, we were ready to take our seats. The black guy behind the counter was the only one at the stand not wearing a yarmulke so I assumed he was not Jewish. It didn’t prevent him from telling me with a perfect Yiddish accent, “They’ll be davening Mincha at half time.” When half time arrived and a third of the audience left without returning, it was not because they all went to daven Mincha, but because the score was 35-7 Panthers, who were undefeated the whole season. No one sensible thought the Giants stood a chance; nevertheless, hard-core lovers of the game were going to stick it out to the end.
At that point, we were deeply involved in the experience, not so much in the game but in a conversation about the game. As clergy, we are aware that houses of worship in America consistently struggle with declining attendance, and we were in awe of the huge crowd at the arena. What is it that makes all these people leave their houses on Sunday — a day of rest — deal with heavy traffic and parking issues, and pay a good amount of money to sit outside in the cold? All of this, just to watch a competition over a ball? There must be something more. Conversely, what are we missing in synagogues and churches?
In the recent movie Concussion, Dr. Bennet Omalu, the pathologist who kept finding brain damage in football players, was warned by his colleague not to make waves because “The NFL owns a day of the week — the same day that church used to own. Now it’s theirs!” The thousands who attended the game that day chose it over church. And the same can be said about the synagogue on Shabbat.
While we were having our philosophical discussion, somehow the Giants made a comeback. With a minute and 46 seconds left, they scored another touchdown and tied the game at 35-35. Wow, we are now jumping up and down and cheering for the Giants, hardly believing that the game actually pulled us in. I felt like a person who comes to synagogue or a class for the first time, out of curiosity, and by the end of the service or class is fully engaged. But still, the NFL and other secular activities seem to win the day. Perhaps we should look at ourselves.
In the opening of his book, God in Search of Man, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, acknowledged this disparity in 1955 when he wrote:
“It is customary to blame secular science and anti-religious philosophy for the eclipse of religion in modern society. It would be more honest to blame religion for its own defeats. Religion declined not because it was refuted, but because it became irrelevant, dull, oppressive, insipid. When faith is completely replaced by creed, worship by discipline, love by habit; when the crisis of today is ignored because of the splendor of the past; when faith becomes an heirloom rather than a living fountain; when religion speaks only in the name of authority rather than with the voice of compassion — its message becomes meaningless.”
The issues Rabbi Heschel pointed out essentially remove religious experience from the houses of worship. By avoiding vibrant and relevant discussions, those who attend services become spectators rather than participants. If we perceive people in the pews the same as those in the bleachers, we will continue to lose. If religious services become merely a show, then, of course modern day Roman-like arenas with gladiators are a lot more impressive.
Fortunately, at Tifereth Israel, we make a point to stay vibrant and relevant through energetic discussions, and we further engage with our neighboring houses of worship. We all understand that we are not spectators, but the main players in the Super Bowl of Life.
God bless, and please join us,
—Rabbi Gadi Capela
“Seeing it Coming”
Dear members and friends,
As we experience the season of winter and snow and drift into occasional hibernation, let’s hope it won’t be too challenging this year. It is interesting that at this same time of hibernation, Jews are celebrating Tu Bishvat, the “birthday” of trees. Of all possible seasons, our tradition chooses to celebrate the regeneration of life in nature when it seems to be moribund. But that’s the beauty of it, according to the Zohar, the main book of Kaballah (in Vayishlach), which says that winter is the time when we can learn about the ultimate resurrection of the dead. In winter, the trees lose their leaves and look lifeless, but then, what seems to be dry wood flowers again.
Along with millions of others, I was saddened to hear about the recent passing of David Bowie, who has contributed many of the soundtracks of our lives for many years. When I lived in New York, every morning on my way to the subway, I would pass by the Essex House, where he lived. Sometimes I would see him standing alone, unassuming, perhaps waiting for a driver. I never thought about it too much until now, when his death juxtaposes with the Torah readings about Pharaoh and his stubbornness. What is the connection? Let me explain.
Pharaoh represents extreme denial; he does not think he is subject to the same rules of mortality as everyone else and, as a result, he cannot see that the end is coming. With every plague God thrusts upon Egypt, Pharaoh’s courtiers advise him to face reality, to admit he is not invincible. God wanted the Biblical Pharaoh, or any other “Pharaohs” living among us, to show humility, to face our humanity and our mortality. Pharaoh’s persistent refusal to admit to forces greater than himself brought about his and Egypt’s ultimate demise.
Getting back to the late Mr. Bowie, it seems he was well aware of his humanity and his mortality. The lyrics and video of “Lazarus” and other songs in his last album, Blackstar, seem to be self-eulogizing, his way of admitting and dealing with his looming death. (Lazarus of Bethany is the man Jesus brought back to life four days after he died. Jesus refers to Lazarus as “asleep,” saying he would be waking up.) Unlike Pharaoh, Bowie recognized the end of his life and prepared for it spiritually, believing in life after death, just as the trees wake up after winter. Perhaps this makes it easier for us to deal with our own mortality. We have to learn to see it coming.
Happy Tu Bishvat and rejuvenating hibernation,
—Rabbi Gadi Capela
“Reconciliation”
Dear members and friends,
Rabbi Gadi kindles the Hanukkah candles at the 10th anniversary celebration of Project Genesis.
Even though I’m writing this message on the shortest day of the year, it doesn’t feel dark. Perhaps the reason is the presence of many lights, both physical and spiritual. As the lights of Hanukkah slowly disappeared, the lights of Christmas on many houses and in yards began to glow.
On Saturday night, Dec. 12, we celebrated Project Genesis’ 10th anniversary with an event called “Between the Lights.” Project Genesis is a Jewish-Christian monthly learning program I have been teaching with Christian clergy, where both faiths are invited to learn about the common roots of their beliefs and heritage, building bridges between the two communities. We were happily surprised to discover that on the very same week the Catholic Church released a long document, confirming its Nostra Aetate (in our time) — the document that ushered in a profound and positive change within the church toward Judaism 50 years ago, in the aftermath of the Holocaust.
The Vatican’s Commission For Religious Relations With The Jews’ document included the following paragraph: “Another important goal of Jewish-Catholic dialogue consists of jointly combatting all manifestations of ethnic discrimination against Jews and all forms of anti-Semitism. History teaches us where even the slightest perceptible form of anti-Semitism can lead: the human tragedy of the Shoah in which two-thirds of European Jewry was annihilated. Both faith traditions are called upon to maintain an unceasing vigilance and sensitivity in the social sphere as well.”
In response, a few dozen Orthodox rabbis wrote a document affirming Judaism’s connection to Christianity. Their letter states: “After nearly two millennia of mutual hostility and alienation, we Orthodox rabbis who lead communities, institutions and seminaries in Israel, the United States and Europe, recognize the historic opportunity now before us. We seek to do the will of our Father in Heaven by accepting the hand offered to us by our Christian brothers and sisters. Jews and Christians must work together as partners to address the moral challenges of our era.
The Dec. 12 event, held in the auditorium at Peconic Landing, was well attended by regulars and guests.(Photos by Steve Benthal)
“The Shoah ended 70 years ago. It was the warped climax to centuries of disrespect, oppression and rejection of Jews and the consequent enmity that developed between Jews and Christians. In retrospect, it is clear that the failure to break through this contempt and engage in constructive dialogue for the good of humankind weakened resistance to the evil forces of anti-Semitism that engulfed the world in murder and genocide… As did Maimonides and Yehudah Halevi, we acknowledge that Christianity is neither an accident nor an error, but the willed divine outcome and gift to the nations. In separating Judaism and Christianity, G-d willed a separation between partners with significant theological differences, not a separation between enemies…”
Now that the Catholic Church has acknowledged the eternal covenant between G-d and Israel, we Jews can acknowledge the ongoing constructive validity of Christianity as our partner in world redemption, without any fear that this will be exploited for missionary purposes. As stated by the Chief Rabbinate of Israel’s Bilateral Commission with the Holy See under the leadership of Rabbi Shear Yashuv Cohen, “We are no longer enemies, but unequivocal partners in articulating the essential moral values for the survival and welfare of humanity… Neither of us can achieve G-d’s mission in this world alone.”
This idea of reconciliation corresponds to our Shabbat Torah reading — “Vayigash” (approached). The reunion of Joseph and his brothers in Egypt begins when Judah approaches the Egyptian vizier, not knowing it is actually his brother Joseph, whom he had arranged to be cast out of the family more than 20 years earlier. Judah confesses his responsibility to the vizier (Joseph), who is so moved by the honesty and sincerity of Judah’s emotional plea for the release of his brother Benjamin that he cannot stay indifferent. Joseph reveals himself to his brothers and allows them to approach him further, until they are close enough to kiss and cry. For the first time in more than two decades, they speak to each other.
Like Joseph and his brothers, the Catholic Church and the Jewish people have taken steps to reconcile with one side approaching the other. Rabbi Cohen reminds us that we, too, have a responsibility to supplement the light in the world through other means, and to partner with others to help God in the project of creation.
May January be the door to ultimate reconciliation and peace for all. Happy 2016.
—Rabbi Gadi Capela
Links to the statements by the Catholic Church and the Orthodox rabbis:
http://www.news.va/en/news/vatican-issues-new-document-on-christian-jewish-di
http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/orthodox-rabbinic-statement-on-christianity/
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