CHAYA SARAH 5779
BECAUSE THEY WERE JEWS

November 1, 2018
23 Cheshvan 5779

Sarah died in Kiryat Arba, now Hebron and Abraham proceeded to mourn for Sarah and to bewail her (Genesis 23:3).

There's one more Angel in Heaven, there's one more star in the sky (from the score of Joseph and His Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat).

One more angel in the sky is a solo by one of the brothers as he informs Jacob of the purported death of his beloved son, Joseph. This Shabbat when we read of the death and burial of Sarah we mourn the actual and tragic murder of eleven Jews. The late Uri Zvi Greenberg, an Israeli poet, described and decried the terrible fate of the Jews in the Holocaust. Over and again he lamented that they were murdered and annihilated "because they were Jews."

Because they were Jews! American Jews are collectively part of the mainstream. We are free to worship as we will and feel secure and safe. We are well aware of the fringe groups spouting their hateful antisemitism, but we console ourselves that this is but a small minority. Last Shabbat our sense of security was shaken if not shattered.

What are some takeaways from this horrible disaster? The tragedy reinforces what we already knew: even in America there are people who hate Jews. They range from those who rail against us in social media platforms to those who take up arms to harm and even to murder us.

It seems inevitable that American Jewry will replicate what has is the norm in many European countries where police and even military personnel guard synagogues, Jewish centers, and Jewish schools. Their presence is a constant reminder that there are enemies lurking outside our gates. Many of our Synagogues, Day Schools and JCCs already have security guards in place, and it is highly likely that these measures will be intensified.

There is, of course, the concern that this heightened security will feed into a siege mentality with the feelings of vulnerability fostering more anxiety and fear. We are rightfully concerned that many will be hesitant to assemble in our synagogues and other Jewish venues and parents will now be reluctant to educate their children in Jewish Day Schools and Synagogue nursery schools. These legitimate concerns are high on our agenda as we deal with the aftermath of the Pittsburgh massacre.

America, thankfully, is not Europe of the 30's and 40's when so many turned a blind eye to the ongoing murder of Jews because they were Jews. In democratic America antisemitism is not government policy. Our collective grief is thus somewhat assuaged by the widespread demonstrations and many vigils. As a community we have found strength from the expression of concern and support from all corners of the Gentile community, both religious and political.

May this strength that flows to us by our American coreligionists intensify our determination not to be deterred from walking into the doors of our Synagogues, schools and institutions.

At this moment of mourning for the eleven martyrs in Pittsburgh, we join hands with the majority of Americans who profess and demonstrate goodwill not only toward Jews but toward one another, and this is what really makes America great.

May they rest in peace.

From the holy city of Jerusalem my best wishes for a Shabbat Shalom u'Mevorach, a Shabbat have peace and blessing.

Rabbi Arnold M Goodman


VAYERA 5779
KNOCKING AT THE GOLDEN DOOR

October 25, 2018
18 Cheshvan 5779

Visualize the scenario described in the opening verses of this week's Torah portion. Abraham is sitting at the side of his tent when God appears before him. Almost immediately he becomes aware of three men (at this point he did not realize they were angels) standing before him. He then says, "My Lord, if I have found favor in thy sight, pass not away, I pray from thy (Thy) servant" (Genesis 18:3).

To whom was Abraham directing his question, to the men before him or to God? A Midrash contends that he was speaking to God, asking Him to wait while he (Abraham) tends to the needs of these wayfarers. The Midrash then concludes that welcoming the stranger (hachnasat orchim) takes precedence over standing before God.

Abraham in our tradition is not only the first monotheist; he is also the model of reaching out to strangers who come before him. His rationale was simple: the needs of the stranger must be tended to immediately.

As Jews, we are sensitive to the plight of the wanderer. During our history we knocked on many doors seeking succor and shelter. Three of my Israeli grandchildren were recently in Savannah and were surprised to learn that the first Jews disembarked there in 1733. This, as we know, was at the beginning of the long stream of Jews, at first, from Central Europe and then, from Eastern Europe, who were welcomed in America and laid the foundation of our contemporary American Jewish community.

The United States has always been a destination for refugees from lands where they were burdened by poverty and oppression. They were, and are, drawn to America where they hope to create a new life for themselves and their families and be able to live in dignity and security. These were the dreams of my grandparents who landed in Ellis Island at the start of the 20th century. These were the hopes of the many forbears of today's Americans.

It's to our credit that refugees arriving at our border are granted temporary sanctuary until their casees can be brought before Immigration judges who hear the specifics of each petitioner and determine whether he or she receives a temporary visa or be deported.

The xenophobic knee jerk reaction to reject outsiders is currently a sad reality in contemporary America. The current caravan of Central American migrants heading towards our border is providing a powerful context for demonizing strangers who knock at our door as potential terrorists, dangerous criminals or seeking to squeeze as many benefits as possible from our government agencies.

The Midrash affirms that those who truly seek to be in God's presence must show benevolence toward the stranger. It is a source of pride that many churches, synagogues and mosques continue to provide sanctuary and support for the strangers, the refugees who knock at their doors. In so doing, they have demonstrated the depth and breadth of their religious commitment and moral sensitivity.

The challenge before contemporary America is whether Emma Lazarus' immortal words, placed on the base of the Statue of Liberty, continue to resonate within us:

"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

From the holy city of Jerusalem, my best wishes for a Shabbat Shalom u'Mevorach, a Shabbat have peace and blessing.

Rabbi Arnold M Goodman