Shabbat Service Central Reform Temple
May 10, 2024
The Rev. Pamela L. Werntz
May 10, 2024
The Rev. Pamela L. Werntz
Shabbat - Kedoshim
Leviticus 19:18 “You will love your neighbor as yourself. I am God.” (Parashat Kedoshim)
Shabbat Shalom! Rabbi Shire, thank you for inviting me to speak to you all. It’s always a joy to be with you as you welcome the Sabbath. When I preach at Emmanuel Church services I always begin with a version of this prayer, O God of holiness, grant us the strength, the wisdom and the courage to seek always and everywhere after truth, come when it may, and cost what it
will.
Members of Central Reform Temple, you already know this, but since there are some Christians listening in to my words this evening, I want to start with the reminder that the center of the Jewish faith is the Torah. And the center of the Torah is Leviticus. And the center of Leviticus is chapter 19, verse 18. This verse, which is part of the Torah portion for this Sabbath
is the point of it all: “V’ahávta l’re’écha k’mocha aní **.” “You will love your neighbor as yourself. I am God.” As Jesus, the Rabbi from Nazareth learned, probably from the school of Rabbi Hillel, all of the law and the prophets can be summed up by loving God and loving one’s neighbor as oneself. Tragically, many Christians believe that this was Jesus’ religious
innovation.
Some of you might remember the program that Emmanuel Center hosted a dozen years ago when The Jewish Annotated New Testament was published. The Jewish Annotated New Testament was the first edition of the Christian Testament to put these writings in the Jewish context of their authors and audiences with commentary and text notes all written by Jewish
scholars. We called our program “Corrective Lenses.” Our guest speakers were Larry Wills, then professor at Episcopal Divinity School, and Pheme Perkins, Professor of Theology at Boston College. In the question and answer period that followed their remarks, a member of the audience approached the microphone to ask if there was anything that Jesus taught that was
original to him. They thought for a long time, looking at each other for facial expression clues and then both said at the same time, “no.”
Sometimes Christians try to argue that Jesus’ teaching of what we call “the Golden Rule,” is more universal and inclusive than Leviticus 19:18, but first, that ignores the commandment in verse 34, which describes loving strangers and foreigners in the land as yourself, and second, I don’t know why Christians would want to try to make the commandment harder when we don’t even love our kinspeople and neighbors very well. Some ask, “What about loving our enemies?” The scriptures reply, “Start with the ones who are nearest to you. Then work your way out through the circles of relationship until all are one as God is one.” You will not deny your neighbor what you want for yourself. Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel taught that, “Morally speaking, there is no limit to the concern one must feel for the suffering of human beings, that indifference to evil is worse than evil itself, [and] that in a free society, some are guilty, but all are responsible.” Religiously speaking, Michael Curry, the Episcopal Church’s presiding bishop often says, “If it’s not about love, it’s not about God.” That is true for all of us. I want to note something about the grammar of this verse about loving one’s neighbor as oneself. (I learned just enough Biblical Hebrew in two semesters of study to be dangerous, so if I’ve got this wrong, please tell me after the service!) Leviticus 19:18 is not a regulation as much as it is a teaching, and a description of a hoped-for future. The verb tense of v’ahávta (or, “you will love) is imperfect (because of that fantastic reversing vav), indicating ongoing or incomplete action. Grammatically, the verb “love” is not in a command form. The sense of these words is something like this. God is saying, “when you remember that I am God,’ (in other words) “when you have no other gods before me, here’s how you will behave; here’s how it will look. When you remember I am God (and you are not God), you will be loving your neighbor as yourself.”
By the way, that answers, for me anyway, the question of what if I don’t love myself? The answer is you will when you stop bowing down to false gods. Just listen to how different it sounds, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” vs. “When (and whenever) you remember I am God, you will be loving your neighbor as yourself.” This is a statement of God’s hope for God’s people. This is God’s dream of how it will be with us.
What are the false gods that we are being called to put aside? In this country, I’d name a Hollywood definition of beauty, fame, and self-absorbed pleasure. I’d add power, wealth, Christian nationalism, white supremacy, mass-incarceration, and all sorts of weaponized aggression. “When (and whenever) we remember that God is God, and all these things are not God, we will be loving our neighbor as ourself.”
As you know, this past week was the observance of Yom HaShoah, a day of remembrance for the at least 6 million Jews and 6 million gentiles who died in the Holocaust at the hands of the Nazis. Speaking about Yom HaShoah, Rabbi Brad Artson describes three aspects of what “Never Again” means. First, commitment to knowing what happened, because
we can’t remember what we don’t know. Second, it means elevating the way the Holocaust happened specifically to Jews because, as he says, “anti-Semitism is a distinctive hatred that must be called out and resisted.” And third, Never Again has an external aspect, looking out to all people who are victimized and suffering, “to identify with their humanity and to reach out in their saving.”
The other night I attended a forum sponsored by The Boston Workers Circle and the Islamic Council of New England, called, “A Lasting Peace: What will it Take?” In his opening reflection, Rabbi Aryeh Cohen reminded us that violence can never lead to peace, it only leads to intermission before the next war. People who engage in violence typically defend the use of violence for self-defense and security, while dehumanizing their opponents. But nobody has everlearned not to be violent through violence. Data show that non-violence leads to better outcomes. He admonished us to remember that when you’re in a hole and you want to get out of it, the first step is to stop digging.
In the Christian scripture, the Letter of James is a sermon based on Leviticus 19:12-18. One of the famous lines from that sermon is “Be doers of the Word and not hearers only.” In other words, religion and ethical behavior cannot rightly be separated, according to both Jewish and Christian teaching. The task of coming into right-relationship with our neighbors and with the Holy One is endless, but as Mishnah sage, Rabbi Tarfon said, “Do not avoid an undertaking that has no limit or a task that cannot be completed. It is like the case of one who was hired to take water from the sea and pour it out on the land…the pursuit of the unattainable can be a means of fulfillment.”
This time between Passover and Pentecost, the time of counting the Omer, is a time ripe with potential for inner growth anticipating and preparing to receive the gift of Torah, much like the Christian season of Lent is a time anticipating and preparing to receive the gift of Love that is stronger than death. Both are times to claim our heritage as children of the Holy One and get in touch with our own receptivity for the goodness of God before all else, because God knows the world needs us to do that work. “When (and whenever) we remember that God is God, we will be loving our neighbor as ourselves.” That is how it will be.
Shabbat Shalom! Rabbi Shire, thank you for inviting me to speak to you all. It’s always a joy to be with you as you welcome the Sabbath. When I preach at Emmanuel Church services I always begin with a version of this prayer, O God of holiness, grant us the strength, the wisdom and the courage to seek always and everywhere after truth, come when it may, and cost what it
will.
Members of Central Reform Temple, you already know this, but since there are some Christians listening in to my words this evening, I want to start with the reminder that the center of the Jewish faith is the Torah. And the center of the Torah is Leviticus. And the center of Leviticus is chapter 19, verse 18. This verse, which is part of the Torah portion for this Sabbath
is the point of it all: “V’ahávta l’re’écha k’mocha aní **.” “You will love your neighbor as yourself. I am God.” As Jesus, the Rabbi from Nazareth learned, probably from the school of Rabbi Hillel, all of the law and the prophets can be summed up by loving God and loving one’s neighbor as oneself. Tragically, many Christians believe that this was Jesus’ religious
innovation.
Some of you might remember the program that Emmanuel Center hosted a dozen years ago when The Jewish Annotated New Testament was published. The Jewish Annotated New Testament was the first edition of the Christian Testament to put these writings in the Jewish context of their authors and audiences with commentary and text notes all written by Jewish
scholars. We called our program “Corrective Lenses.” Our guest speakers were Larry Wills, then professor at Episcopal Divinity School, and Pheme Perkins, Professor of Theology at Boston College. In the question and answer period that followed their remarks, a member of the audience approached the microphone to ask if there was anything that Jesus taught that was
original to him. They thought for a long time, looking at each other for facial expression clues and then both said at the same time, “no.”
Sometimes Christians try to argue that Jesus’ teaching of what we call “the Golden Rule,” is more universal and inclusive than Leviticus 19:18, but first, that ignores the commandment in verse 34, which describes loving strangers and foreigners in the land as yourself, and second, I don’t know why Christians would want to try to make the commandment harder when we don’t even love our kinspeople and neighbors very well. Some ask, “What about loving our enemies?” The scriptures reply, “Start with the ones who are nearest to you. Then work your way out through the circles of relationship until all are one as God is one.” You will not deny your neighbor what you want for yourself. Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel taught that, “Morally speaking, there is no limit to the concern one must feel for the suffering of human beings, that indifference to evil is worse than evil itself, [and] that in a free society, some are guilty, but all are responsible.” Religiously speaking, Michael Curry, the Episcopal Church’s presiding bishop often says, “If it’s not about love, it’s not about God.” That is true for all of us. I want to note something about the grammar of this verse about loving one’s neighbor as oneself. (I learned just enough Biblical Hebrew in two semesters of study to be dangerous, so if I’ve got this wrong, please tell me after the service!) Leviticus 19:18 is not a regulation as much as it is a teaching, and a description of a hoped-for future. The verb tense of v’ahávta (or, “you will love) is imperfect (because of that fantastic reversing vav), indicating ongoing or incomplete action. Grammatically, the verb “love” is not in a command form. The sense of these words is something like this. God is saying, “when you remember that I am God,’ (in other words) “when you have no other gods before me, here’s how you will behave; here’s how it will look. When you remember I am God (and you are not God), you will be loving your neighbor as yourself.”
By the way, that answers, for me anyway, the question of what if I don’t love myself? The answer is you will when you stop bowing down to false gods. Just listen to how different it sounds, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” vs. “When (and whenever) you remember I am God, you will be loving your neighbor as yourself.” This is a statement of God’s hope for God’s people. This is God’s dream of how it will be with us.
What are the false gods that we are being called to put aside? In this country, I’d name a Hollywood definition of beauty, fame, and self-absorbed pleasure. I’d add power, wealth, Christian nationalism, white supremacy, mass-incarceration, and all sorts of weaponized aggression. “When (and whenever) we remember that God is God, and all these things are not God, we will be loving our neighbor as ourself.”
As you know, this past week was the observance of Yom HaShoah, a day of remembrance for the at least 6 million Jews and 6 million gentiles who died in the Holocaust at the hands of the Nazis. Speaking about Yom HaShoah, Rabbi Brad Artson describes three aspects of what “Never Again” means. First, commitment to knowing what happened, because
we can’t remember what we don’t know. Second, it means elevating the way the Holocaust happened specifically to Jews because, as he says, “anti-Semitism is a distinctive hatred that must be called out and resisted.” And third, Never Again has an external aspect, looking out to all people who are victimized and suffering, “to identify with their humanity and to reach out in their saving.”
The other night I attended a forum sponsored by The Boston Workers Circle and the Islamic Council of New England, called, “A Lasting Peace: What will it Take?” In his opening reflection, Rabbi Aryeh Cohen reminded us that violence can never lead to peace, it only leads to intermission before the next war. People who engage in violence typically defend the use of violence for self-defense and security, while dehumanizing their opponents. But nobody has everlearned not to be violent through violence. Data show that non-violence leads to better outcomes. He admonished us to remember that when you’re in a hole and you want to get out of it, the first step is to stop digging.
In the Christian scripture, the Letter of James is a sermon based on Leviticus 19:12-18. One of the famous lines from that sermon is “Be doers of the Word and not hearers only.” In other words, religion and ethical behavior cannot rightly be separated, according to both Jewish and Christian teaching. The task of coming into right-relationship with our neighbors and with the Holy One is endless, but as Mishnah sage, Rabbi Tarfon said, “Do not avoid an undertaking that has no limit or a task that cannot be completed. It is like the case of one who was hired to take water from the sea and pour it out on the land…the pursuit of the unattainable can be a means of fulfillment.”
This time between Passover and Pentecost, the time of counting the Omer, is a time ripe with potential for inner growth anticipating and preparing to receive the gift of Torah, much like the Christian season of Lent is a time anticipating and preparing to receive the gift of Love that is stronger than death. Both are times to claim our heritage as children of the Holy One and get in touch with our own receptivity for the goodness of God before all else, because God knows the world needs us to do that work. “When (and whenever) we remember that God is God, we will be loving our neighbor as ourselves.” That is how it will be.
Shabbat Service Central Reform Temple
December 9, 2022
The Rev. Pamela L. Werntz
December 9, 2022
The Rev. Pamela L. Werntz
Vayishlach
Genesis 32:27 “I will not let you go unless you bless me” (Parashat Vayishlach)
Shabbat Shalom! Rabbi Shire, thank you full! When I preach at Emmanuel Church services I always begin with a version of
this prayer, originally attributed to Phillips Brooks: O God of blessing, grant us the strength, the wisdom and the courage to seek always and everywhere after truth, come when it may, and cost what it will. (Amen)
In our celebration of our renewed covenant between Central Reform Temple and Emmanuel Church, that prayer seems particularly apt, because truth is costly, both in the sense of precious and dear, and in the sense of consequences and even sacrifice. We have certainly experienced the precious and dear qualities of our covenant relationship over the last few years, as well as consequences and sacrifice, and I believe we are all better for it.
Some of you will remember that it was after my 2018 sabbatical that we began to work on documenting the nature of the relationship between our two congregations. During that sabbatical, I had traveled to places that had experienced periods of time of interreligious cooperation, regard, or tolerance, and also periods of murderous rupture in those relationships. Joy and I started in Istanbul, then went to Vienna, and then to the Iberian Peninsula. It waswhen we landed in Vienna that we learned of the devastating news of the massacre at L’Simcha Congregation in Pittsburgh. Our first stop was the Jewish History museum and archaeological dig in the heart of Vienna, built over a medieval synagogue. Among the artifacts in the museum were documents testifying to the good relationships between Jews and Christians. Our next stop was the nearby Stadttempel. That temple, along with its extensive archives, was the only synagogue out of 93 Jewish houses of worship in Vienna to survive Kristalnacht. The Nazis desecrated the shul but did not burn it to the ground because of its proximity to the oldest Christian church in the city, the early 15th century Maria Am Gestad (Mary at the Shore). The Nazis didn’t want to risk the church catching fire because they knew that that would jeopardize the support of the local Christians. Our tour guide surmised that in a way, the church saved the synagogue and the synagogue saved the church. Joy and I heard that and said we have a similar story, albeit considerably less dramatic. I felt strongly, in that moment, that documenting our understanding of what our beautiful life together looks like, was urgent.
When we wrote our original covenant in 2019, it was a dream, a vision, a hope untested. I never imagined that it would be tested so soon, but it was, and our covenant held us when we might have otherwise come apart due to the hazards we have faced in the last three years.
What amazing timing that this is the week that the Torah portion is Vayishlach, which begins with the story of Jacob at the Jabbok. I see such strong connections between this story and our story, and I hope you will too. Jacob, you probably remember, was on his way home from a long time away. Jacob had been staying with Laban, the father of Leah and Rachel, for some twenty years. He wanted to return with his wives and children to the land of his birth.Notice that Jacob was facing his past to secure a future. But Jacob was terrified and anxious -- terrified that Esau might kill him because twice Jacob had cheated Esau and he had tricked their father. The story details Jacob’s strategies of planning his return. He sent messengers before he went to let Esau know he was on his way. The messengers returned and reported to Jacob that Esau was coming to meet him with 400 men. Jacob interpreted this as a threat, but I wonder if it was just Esau wanting to defend himself. After all, he’d been burned by Jacob before
Little did Esau know that Jacob planned for tribute offerings to appease Esau, while strategically dividing his family and flocks into two camps, so that if half perished, the other half would remain. Having sent them across the watershed, Jacob thought he was alone. And then Jacob encountered the Mystery(capital M) and a wrestling match ensued. In her blog, “This is Life as a Sacred Text,” Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg translates what Jacob was doing as “grappling.” I love how the word “grappling” takes us from literal and few, to figurative and widespread. Who among us has not grappled all night long at least once in our lives? Who among us has not sustained an injury from grappling all night long?
It's only when dawn is breaking that the Mystery says, “Let me go for dawn is breaking,” and Jacob says, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.” The Mystery asked Jacob to say his own name and then told Jacob that he would hence be known as Israel, (that is, God Grappler) because he had grappled with God and prevailed. We are to understand that the new name is the blessing. But it’s worth noting that from then on, Jacob, Israel, walked with a limp, no longer with proud strides,
but careful in his steps, slowed by his injury. You probably know that the rest of Jacob/Israel’s life was no cakewalk. And yet (this is jumping ahead a bit in the story), Rabbi Ruttenberg points out that much of the ending of Genesis is about “a central concern of Jacob’s: the giving of blessings…[he’s] finally able to become the kind of person who gives [blessings] rather than taking them, no matter the cost.”
It was in that grappling that the Holy one was urging, pushing, and pulling Jacob into a larger vision of himself, of what he could be and do. And we are all God-grapplers. Grappling with God leads us beyond ourselves, beyond the cautious or fearful limitations so carefully marked out for our lives.1 This is where our covenant comes inso powerfully. The covenant is a blessing our communities are giving to each other. With its renewal, we begin again by trusting the best intentions of one another, acknowledging that difficulties can and will arise!
I urge you to read or re-read the covenant document when you’ve got some time to savor it. Remember, that
even though the Temple and parish leadership are signatories, the covenant is not between the rabbi and the priest, not between the board and the vestry. Our covenant binds our whole communities. To borrow a Christian definition of sacrament, our covenant is an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace. But you know, you don’t need a covenant for a relationship that is merely transactional. You don’t need a covenant if there’s nothing worth wrestling or grappling with.
We are committed to facing the past and are faithfully working to secure a future. We have overcome hazards and we’re stronger together for it.
We won’t let go of the Mystery until we receive the blessing. And God willing, we will continue to be the kind of people who give blessings rather than taking them, no matter what! What a joy to be on this journey with you.
I’ll close with a blessing from my tradition from Saint Clare: Live without fear: your Creator has made you holy, has always protected you, and loves you as a mother. Go in peace to follow the good road and may God’s blessing be with you always.
_____________________
1 Thanks to Brother David Vryhof, SSJE for that idea.
Shabbat Shalom! Rabbi Shire, thank you full! When I preach at Emmanuel Church services I always begin with a version of
this prayer, originally attributed to Phillips Brooks: O God of blessing, grant us the strength, the wisdom and the courage to seek always and everywhere after truth, come when it may, and cost what it will. (Amen)
In our celebration of our renewed covenant between Central Reform Temple and Emmanuel Church, that prayer seems particularly apt, because truth is costly, both in the sense of precious and dear, and in the sense of consequences and even sacrifice. We have certainly experienced the precious and dear qualities of our covenant relationship over the last few years, as well as consequences and sacrifice, and I believe we are all better for it.
Some of you will remember that it was after my 2018 sabbatical that we began to work on documenting the nature of the relationship between our two congregations. During that sabbatical, I had traveled to places that had experienced periods of time of interreligious cooperation, regard, or tolerance, and also periods of murderous rupture in those relationships. Joy and I started in Istanbul, then went to Vienna, and then to the Iberian Peninsula. It waswhen we landed in Vienna that we learned of the devastating news of the massacre at L’Simcha Congregation in Pittsburgh. Our first stop was the Jewish History museum and archaeological dig in the heart of Vienna, built over a medieval synagogue. Among the artifacts in the museum were documents testifying to the good relationships between Jews and Christians. Our next stop was the nearby Stadttempel. That temple, along with its extensive archives, was the only synagogue out of 93 Jewish houses of worship in Vienna to survive Kristalnacht. The Nazis desecrated the shul but did not burn it to the ground because of its proximity to the oldest Christian church in the city, the early 15th century Maria Am Gestad (Mary at the Shore). The Nazis didn’t want to risk the church catching fire because they knew that that would jeopardize the support of the local Christians. Our tour guide surmised that in a way, the church saved the synagogue and the synagogue saved the church. Joy and I heard that and said we have a similar story, albeit considerably less dramatic. I felt strongly, in that moment, that documenting our understanding of what our beautiful life together looks like, was urgent.
When we wrote our original covenant in 2019, it was a dream, a vision, a hope untested. I never imagined that it would be tested so soon, but it was, and our covenant held us when we might have otherwise come apart due to the hazards we have faced in the last three years.
What amazing timing that this is the week that the Torah portion is Vayishlach, which begins with the story of Jacob at the Jabbok. I see such strong connections between this story and our story, and I hope you will too. Jacob, you probably remember, was on his way home from a long time away. Jacob had been staying with Laban, the father of Leah and Rachel, for some twenty years. He wanted to return with his wives and children to the land of his birth.Notice that Jacob was facing his past to secure a future. But Jacob was terrified and anxious -- terrified that Esau might kill him because twice Jacob had cheated Esau and he had tricked their father. The story details Jacob’s strategies of planning his return. He sent messengers before he went to let Esau know he was on his way. The messengers returned and reported to Jacob that Esau was coming to meet him with 400 men. Jacob interpreted this as a threat, but I wonder if it was just Esau wanting to defend himself. After all, he’d been burned by Jacob before
Little did Esau know that Jacob planned for tribute offerings to appease Esau, while strategically dividing his family and flocks into two camps, so that if half perished, the other half would remain. Having sent them across the watershed, Jacob thought he was alone. And then Jacob encountered the Mystery(capital M) and a wrestling match ensued. In her blog, “This is Life as a Sacred Text,” Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg translates what Jacob was doing as “grappling.” I love how the word “grappling” takes us from literal and few, to figurative and widespread. Who among us has not grappled all night long at least once in our lives? Who among us has not sustained an injury from grappling all night long?
It's only when dawn is breaking that the Mystery says, “Let me go for dawn is breaking,” and Jacob says, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.” The Mystery asked Jacob to say his own name and then told Jacob that he would hence be known as Israel, (that is, God Grappler) because he had grappled with God and prevailed. We are to understand that the new name is the blessing. But it’s worth noting that from then on, Jacob, Israel, walked with a limp, no longer with proud strides,
but careful in his steps, slowed by his injury. You probably know that the rest of Jacob/Israel’s life was no cakewalk. And yet (this is jumping ahead a bit in the story), Rabbi Ruttenberg points out that much of the ending of Genesis is about “a central concern of Jacob’s: the giving of blessings…[he’s] finally able to become the kind of person who gives [blessings] rather than taking them, no matter the cost.”
It was in that grappling that the Holy one was urging, pushing, and pulling Jacob into a larger vision of himself, of what he could be and do. And we are all God-grapplers. Grappling with God leads us beyond ourselves, beyond the cautious or fearful limitations so carefully marked out for our lives.1 This is where our covenant comes inso powerfully. The covenant is a blessing our communities are giving to each other. With its renewal, we begin again by trusting the best intentions of one another, acknowledging that difficulties can and will arise!
I urge you to read or re-read the covenant document when you’ve got some time to savor it. Remember, that
even though the Temple and parish leadership are signatories, the covenant is not between the rabbi and the priest, not between the board and the vestry. Our covenant binds our whole communities. To borrow a Christian definition of sacrament, our covenant is an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace. But you know, you don’t need a covenant for a relationship that is merely transactional. You don’t need a covenant if there’s nothing worth wrestling or grappling with.
We are committed to facing the past and are faithfully working to secure a future. We have overcome hazards and we’re stronger together for it.
We won’t let go of the Mystery until we receive the blessing. And God willing, we will continue to be the kind of people who give blessings rather than taking them, no matter what! What a joy to be on this journey with you.
I’ll close with a blessing from my tradition from Saint Clare: Live without fear: your Creator has made you holy, has always protected you, and loves you as a mother. Go in peace to follow the good road and may God’s blessing be with you always.
_____________________
1 Thanks to Brother David Vryhof, SSJE for that idea.
