Lessons of Thanksgiving

Throughout our history, the Jewish People has always championed causes of religious pluralism and a reverence for the rule of law, whether for Jewish law or the legal systems of the countries in which we have resided. The holiday of Thanksgiving serves as a foundational narrative for both the value of religious pluralism and the creation of the greatest legislation enacting the freedoms of religious practice that have ever been known to humanity; for those of the United States of America.

Thanksgiving is unique among our country's national holidays. Its roots are found neither in the ritual traditions of the Christian faith nor in the events or personalities of our country’s national history. In this sense, Thanksgiving is indeed reflective of a formative, pre-American narrative. It is a root-narrative shared alike by every migrant group that escaped persecution and coercion elsewhere to seek freedom. All Americans can derive important lessons about the freedoms we cherish from the story of Thanksgiving.

The first lesson is that laws are an expression of human experience, at least as much so as they may create the context for our future experience. We often imagine that our laws themselves protect our freedom. But, the Pilgrims flight from the religious persecution and coercion of Europe, in search of an opportunity to practice their faith freely, reminds all Americans that our underlying historical narratives of persecution and liberation are at the heart of all legislation that guarantee our freedom. Therefore, one important lesson of Thanksgiving, intuitive to the Pilgrims and transformed into legal codification by our nation’s founders, is that it is only to the extent that we remember our stories of liberation as Americans that we are likely to protect the laws that, in turn, protect our freedoms. No law stands forever unless it is reaffirmed; unless we remind ourselves of its purposes. Our legal protection does not depend upon the law itself, but rather upon our acute awareness of our collective national narrative, beginning with those who preceded the birth of our nation and inspired its great, new vision of freedom.

The second important lesson of Thanksgiving relates to the essential social contract that is implicit in American citizenship. This social contract must reflect an uncompromising commitment to religious pluralism in our society. There are two principles that must always comprise America’s pluralistic social contract: (1) Every faith community deserves its freedom of religious belief and practice in our country; (2) Likewise, all faith traditions must champion the value, practice, and legal tradition that protects religious freedom in America in order to ensure that any of us continues to enjoy the blessings of such freedom in our country.

As Americans of any faith, we must always remember that the social contract of religious pluralism requires of us not only to defend the freedoms afforded our own and other faith communities but also to demand of ourselves and of others that we and they do the same. There is an assumed “legal consideration” among all parties to the American pluralistic social contract whose enduring existence cannot be assured without our equal pursuit and implementation of both of these important components.

Thanksgiving is a festival of gratitude. In the Jewish tradition, we refer to this value as hakarat ha-tov – literally “the acknowledgment of the good” bestowed upon us by our Creator and/or by our fellow human beings. To be grateful, however, is not simply to feel a feeling or to recall with symbolic ritual a sense of gratitude dating back to the past and even felt sentimentally or substantially in the present. It is vital that we remain committed to the religious freedom enjoyed by all faith communities and committed to laws by our nation’s founders; it is equally important that we insist that such commitment is shared by all other faith communities - and their leaders, in word and in deed. Along with the retelling of the American story, from the period prior to our nation’s birth and onward, nuanced and broad adherence to both principles of the social contract of religious pluralism will ensure that our freedoms endure.  In this regard, to be vigilant is to grateful.

Rabbi Isaac Jeret is the spiritual leader of Congregation Ner Tamid of South Bay, located at 5721 Crestridge Rd., in Rancho Palos Verdes. To learn more about the synagogue's extensive children's and adult programming, or to attend religious services, please consult Ner Tamid's website, www.nertamid.com, or call (310)377-6986.

CHALLENGING OUR SPIRITUAL BASIC ASSUMPTIONS

by Rabbi Isaac Jeret

What is the purpose of a spiritual engagement? What is the value of belonging to a religious community? Whatever our religious affiliation, and even if we are only marginally connected, these questions can be helpful to ask of ourselves. Think of it this way, whether we have reason to go the doctor frequently or not (hopefully not), we should try our very best not to forgo an annual check-up, if we can help it; whether we belong to a faith community or not, we can stand only to benefit from asking ourselves:  Why might one belong? What is a spiritual endeavor in a religious communal context all about in its essence?

Most often, the responses I receive to these questions center on the themes of comfort and escape. We bring comfort to those with whom we share spiritual fellowship and we are comforted when we are in need. In the spirit and harmonious melodies of worship, in the warmth of our sanctuaries, we can escape the demands, tumult, and burdens of daily life, recalibrating toward greater spiritual equalibrium.

To be sure, these are authentic and vital elements of all spiritual striving. These are among the finest qualities -- timeless values -- of religious engagement. However, the Judeo-Christian heritage demands more of us, and extends even broader opportunity to us, than comfort and escape alone. Had it not done so historically, Western religion would have offered the world nothing in the way of the revolutionary alternative that spawned Western civilization, distinguishing itself progressively from the repetitive narrowness of the pagan cultures that preceded it. Consider the following.

The Torah -- The Five Books of Moses -- offers two renditions of God’s Revelation at Sinai. The first is in real time, recording in the Book of Exodus the events as we are told that they unfolded. The second is found in the Book of Deuteronomy, as Moses revisited the occurrences throughout the Jewish People’s desert-journey toward the Promised Land.  In each instance, among the Ten Commandments uttered aloud, one finds the precept to observe the Sabbath.

Quite remarkably, the reason given for Sabbath observance differs in each recounting.  In Exodus, the Sabbath is to be remembered, for God sanctified the seventh day and rested upon it, having completed the creation of the world. A universal purpose is ascribed to the Sabbath. It was intended to return us all to Eden, to a time and place when, at most, one family existed in the entire world; no distinctions existed between spiritual pathways, only a singular wholeness awaited humanity’s acknowledgment and sacred celebration.

In Deuteronomy, the Sabbath is to be observed as a day of rest, for the Jewish People had been slaves in Egypt with no such opportunity. Here, a more particular purpose is ascribed to the Sabbath. Having been denied liberty as slaves, a sacred day of rest was to have been, at once, a communal and personal Jewish experience of spiritual and practical sovereignty -- every week, for all of time.

But, the reasons ascribed seem, at first glance, to be confused. The generation leaving Egypt had known slavery. Surely, they could more easily have related to a Sabbath celebrating personal and communal sovereignty.  And, the generation entering the Promised Land had no recollection of Egypt at all.  Surely, having been protected by God’s cloud of glory and fed by God’s mana while traveling through the desert they could more easily have related to a Sabbath celebrating God’s creative and sustaining capacity -- an appreciation of the source of all wholeness, a more universal disposition toward the Sabbath.

The message is simple, perhaps, but instructive. The generation that experienced slavery in Egypt  was challenged to stretch beyond its own traumatic experience, beyond the world's brokenness, to find a contrary truth in the wholeness of God’s world. The generation that knew only of the God’s sheltering comfort was required to consider its historical past as slaves so that it might know to protect its presumed sovereignty.

If we today, the heirs of a Judeo-Christian heritage that has changed the world, are to continue to revolutionize the world toward the better, then, as each of the generations above, we must be open to the sacred messages and purposes of our traditions that challenge our spiritual basic assumptions.  Our spiritual and religious experience should not merely confirm what we know already to be true; rather, it should stretch us toward greater insight and capacity to understand and then to act meaningfully and decisively in service of the world's betterment.  Ultimately, even the comfort and escape that we seek and lend will depend upon and reflect the depth of our spiritual character, as we challenge ourselves -- as two ancient generations of the Jewish People did so long ago.

Rabbi Isaac Jeret is the spiritual leader of Congregation Ner Tamid of South Bay. For information regarding Membership, Religious Services, Adult Classes, Pre-School, and Religious School, contact the synagogue’s office (310) 377-6986 or www.nertamid.com.

Key To Peace

KEY TO PEACE

By Rabbi Isaac Jeret

Commentary on Parashat Lech Lecha

October 28, 2009

Reprinted from: THE JEWISH JOURNAL OF LOS ANGELES

In most instances, families relocate due to a measure of dissatisfaction with where they live currently and a degree of hope for where they might arrive. The Torah portion of Lech-Lecha presents the beginning of the epic Israel-bound family journey of the Jewish people. It is distinct in various respects from all other family relocations recorded in the Book of Genesis or elsewhere in the Torah. A journey that continues still today, it retains central purposes that date back to Abraham’s formative travels even as its unfolding, historic itinerary inspires travelogue entries and reflective commentary with each passing day of the Jewish present.

A comparison of all other family relocations in the Book of Genesis to Abraham’s formative journey to Israel reveals its uniqueness. The departure of Adam and Eve from Eden was at least as much about leaving Eden as arriving elsewhere. The builders of the Tower of Babel were scattered from the Babylonian region of Shinar rather than being sent anywhere else in particular. Noah fled the flood. Abraham’s, Jacob’s, Joseph’s and Jacob’s other sons’ journeys beyond what would come to be known as the land of Israel were initiated due to mortal dangers they faced living in Canaan.

However, Abraham’s journey to Canaan is not presented in the Torah as an escape from anywhere, for any reason. Its purpose is identified solely with the merits and blessings associated with its commanded destination.

To ensure that Abraham, his descendants and all who would later read this story understood the unique purpose of Abraham’s relocation-journey and its enduring implications, God pronounced to Abraham that his descendants’ destiny would be bound inextricably and forever to the special land to which God would guide him and that great blessing would accompany this bond. To ensure that the precise territory constituting the Israel that would exist was just as unambiguous, God articulated the territory’s borders and had Abraham walk the entire land.

Ever since, the Jewish people have been bound to the land of Israel as heirs to God’s promises and blessings to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and their families. Jews have lived in Israel, with a continuous presence, for at least 2,500 years, possibly dating back as far as the time of Joshua. And, the Israel in which Jews have resided throughout most of this period — the same Israel promised biblically to our forbears — includes Jerusalem, Hebron, Bethlehem, Jericho, Nablus and Ramallah, areas assumed by many to constitute the heart of a future Palestinian state.

Any honest broker of peace between the State of Israel and her Arab neighbors must acknowledge publicly a fundamental historical truth and require Arab and Muslim leaders to do the same, for most Israelis to feel that their claim to Israel is affirmed and that their security is an overriding concern. This fact and its implications derive from Abraham’s formative journey and were ignored by President Obama in his Cairo speech and since then.

The land of Israel promised biblically to the Jews and inhabited by Jews more so than anyone else since then includes Jerusalem, Judea and Samaria as much as Tel Aviv, Haifa and Eilat. Consequently, the Holocaust and violence prior to it may have been why many Jews fled Europe, and it might have been why most nations voted in 1947 to allow for a Jewish state, but it constitutes neither the reason nor the purpose underlying the historic Jewish return to Israel. Jews didn’t happen upon Israel in 1948, settling for a location that seemed easy and safe. Rather, those who returned home to Israel, before or after the Holocaust, did so despite the significant challenges they knew awaited them.

Public recognition of the historic and continual Jewish claim to the entire land of Israel by President Obama and, following his lead, by Arab and Muslim leaders genuinely seeking peace with Israel is a prerequisite, both theoretically and practically, to any final agreement in which Arab and Muslim leaders would accept a permanent and Jewish State of Israel, regardless of its final borders. It would acknowledge that what constitutes “occupied territories” for Israel’s enemies are “disputed territories” to most Israelis. In truth, given that Israel “occupied” Judea and Samaria in a defensive 1967 war aimed at destroying the Jewish state, referring to them as “disputed” rather than simply annexing them should seem generous on Israel’s part.

Arab and Muslim leaders could join with Israel’s leaders in a mutual recognition of historical claims rather than denying Israel’s right to exist. Israel would be invited to give away land that is rightfully its own rather than returning it, as though anyone lay greater claim to it, in exchange for an enduring peace.

An honest accounting of history may be the key to determining whether there exist today authentic voices of compromise among Arab and Muslim leaders and whether Israel should see fit to forgo its historic and legitimate claim to any portion of its land, at this juncture, in pursuit of peace. President Obama can turn this key.