Keeping Things Real & Sh’mot
I’m officially a rabbi now!!!
Just last night I got back from Colorado where the ordination ceremony took place!
What I experienced there goes beyond words. That’s how wonderful it was.
But I can tell you that we sang and danced.
And received so many blessings, I can’t even count them.
I led Friday night Kabbalat Shabbat, and the energy was so strong, my hands were vibrating.
Sunday I spoke at the ordination ceremony.
I feel like my speech summed up my life, my upbringing, and my Jewish journey.
I feel similarly about the beginning of Exodus; it sums up the Jewish journey, and the Jewish people.
This first Parsha is the beginning of our enslavement, but it’s also the beginning of liberation.
It’s about resistance through feigning helplessness, hiding, speaking up or remaining silent.
It’s about hope, fear, doubt, lack of belief in oneself and others—and God.
It’s about being sent, turning away, and turning towards.
It’s about infighting, defending, running away, returning.
It’s about very real things.
Here’s my speech (which you can read here, or find on my Facebook page):
“I like keeping things real, and here’s something real:
“Our Torah is homophobic, xenophobic, misogynistic, patriarchal, sexist.
“The God of our Torah: violent, short-tempered, punishing, male, reigning plagues upon a people he claims to be his ‘Am Segula,’ his treasured people.
“Our forefathers and mothers: liars, cheats, schemers.
“And we’re done with the patriarchy, right?
“If hearing all this makes you uncomfortable, it shouldn’t. Because our forefathers–and I do mean fathers—gave us permission to challenge and argue with Torah. And with God.
“Moses, Abraham, the daughters of Tzlofchad, argue with God–and God listens–sometimes.
“We are Yisrael, God-wrestlers.
“Our tradition expects it.
“But let’s be real; our tradition, and in some communities still, gives permission to only some, and only so far.
“For this reason, for my parents, it was shameful to be ‘religious.’
“‘Spirituality? What’s that?’ ‘Why can’t you just be culturally Jewish and bring the values of Judaism into politics?’
“They did that.
“Yes. And they both died in despair.
“But they were right that a world that erased the tapestry of cultures and languages, one dominated by American consumerist culture, was a world devoid of beauty.
“What they didn’t know about was the beauty of Judaism and how it figured into that tapestry.
“They only knew Torah as a story of liberation.
“They didn’t know that its flawed characters reflect our own character, and that they give us a chance to work on ourselves.
“They didn’t know that the stories of these flawed characters taught our ancestors about endurance, and gave them strength to get through.
“They didn’t know about our mystical tradition, of black fire and white light.
"They didn’t know that the Divine Flow that flows from Eden is always available, never ceasing, through our Torah.
“They didn’t know that individual words with the same consonants but different vowels could mean something totally different: that river can mean light–or maybe they’re the same thing.
“And when I feel overwhelmed by the despair in the world today, and I dream of escaping to a mountaintop and living out my days in peace and tranquility, chanting my time away, I remember the climate crisis, and the fact that there is no safe place to escape to.
“And then I turn to my Jewish practice and Torah, to my flawed inheritance, for guidance, uplifting and hope. And I remember my passion for bringing this to other people, because there is no escaping.
“And I remember my Jewish obligation to engage with the world, this world, now, to make things better for future generations, for my own children. I remember my obligation to take care of them. I remember my Jewish obligation to be positive and hopeful. Because if I lose hope, how can they remain hopeful?
“We can appreciate the changes that have happened over the generations, and the more recent tradition of bringing more progressive voices into Torah interpretation.
“And we can continue to co-create a renewed Judaism that includes everyone, and new ways of being that builds on the endurance of our ancestors.
“I think my parents would understand now.”
May we have and continue to build on the endurance of our ancestors, whatever tradition they come from.
And say Amen.