Sermon
at the AIPAC Shabbaton
I was honored to give the sermon at the at the AIPAC shabbaton last week and share with you my remarks, which are especially appropriate prior to Pesah. |
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I am sure that by now most of you have heard about the
biggest deal ever in Israel’s booming hi-tech industry. A few years ago
the popular GPS program developed in Israel - Waze was bought by Google for
$1.3 billion. Just two weeks ago in an even larger deal, Intel bought
an Israeli company, Mobileye, a global leader in the development of computer
mapping for advanced driver assistance and autonomous driving for $15
billion. Intel hopes its purchase will position it as a leader in the field
of autonomous vehicles. With all the hoopla and excitement over this deal and
self-driving vehicles many people do not realize that it really is not all
that new or that big a deal.
What most people do not know is that Israel had already
developed a self-driving car a number of years ago. The car was able to
understand and respond to verbal commands. If you wanted the car to go
to the right, all you had to do was say “Yemina”, and it would turn
right. To go to the left, you merely said, “smola”.
Since some of the engineers who worked on the car were
religious Jews, they programmed it so that in order to activate the car you
said, “Baruch HaShem” which of course means, “thank God.” And it would
go forward. And to stop it, you said, the same thing, only in Yiddish,
“Gottza Danken.”
Everything was going pretty well on the initial test
run until the driver got to a treacherous cliff. As the car was going
downhill it began to speed out of control and the driver panicked. He
could not remember the Yiddish command to get the car to stop. He
yelled out every Yiddish word he knew, and even a few curse words in
Yiddish. Nothing worked.
Finally, as the car was about to veer over a cliff, he
remembered what to say, and just in the nick of time, shouted, “Gotza Danken.”
Sure enough, the car stopped right at the edge of the cliff. Feeling
thankful and relieved, he sat back and prayerfully said, “Baruch HaShem.”
And that was the last we ever heard of self-driving
Israeli vehicle technology -- until now.
I assume you probably felt proud, when you heard about
the deal, as we all should and do whenever something like this comes out of
Israel showcasing the contribution Israel and our people are making to
technology and safer cars. Because at the end of the day, it really is
about Tikun Olam: the role Israel and the Jewish people play in making
the world a better place. The pride we feel extends beyond the advances
in the realms of science, technology, medicine, the arts, humanitarian aid
and other fields where Israel is the leader. It even extends now to the
world of sports, and more specifically, of all things, to baseball.
Although ranked in 41st
place in the World Baseball classic, (I think it was out of 42 teams, or
maybe it was out of 40), Israel’s baseball team beat the Netherlands, 3rd
ranked South Korea, 4th ranked Taiwan and perennial powerhouse
Cuba.
Following the surprising,
unpredictable and unanticipated success of Israel’s baseball team in the
World Baseball Classic some people commented that the last time Israel beat
that many countries in less than a week was in the Six Day War in 1967.
You’ve gotta love a team who shleps their mascot, the
“Mentsch on a Bench”, with them wherever they go; who paused to read the
megillah in the dugout on Purim; and whose players removed their blue and
white baseball caps with their emblem: a Star of David with an “I” in the
middle for Israel, and wore blue yarmulkes whenever HaTikvah, Israel’s
national anthem was played. The team cheer was “Give me an O – O. Give
me a Y – Y. What does it spell? Oy!”
The odds against Israel winning the
tournament were not very good. Bookmakers placed them as a 200 – 1
longshot. No wonder. Unlike the teams they were competing
against, not a single member of Team Israel was currently on a major league
roster. The team consisted of career minor leaguers and retired former major
league ball players. All Americans, each had just enough Jewish
heritage and connection to qualify to play for Team Israel.
What was it about an Israeli team of
non-Israelis that was so endearing and inspiring that it, like the Mobileye
deal evoked such a strong reaction and generated such an outpouring of Jewish
pride among Jews in America?
Elie Klein, an associate partner at
a pr and marketing firm in Israel summed it up. “While baseball fans
around the globe have taken notice of Team Israel due to their surprising
athletic prowess, Jews around the world — many of whom have never watched a
single inning of baseball are drawn to Team Israel out of deep Jewish
pride. Not because they are Israelis, but because they aren’t.
They are largely American Jews who have decided to wear uniforms emblazoned
with the Jewish star and don kippot during Hatikvah, to identify as Jews in a
public way.” Klein said, “Israel’s participation in the World Baseball
Classic is about so much more than baseball.”
As a result of their experience,
these guys, only two of whom actually hold Israeli passports, most of whom
until a trip in January had never been to Israel, and the majority of whom
had not even been practicing Jews -- now have not just an affinity for
Israel, but have rediscovered, or in many cases discovered their pride in
being Jewish, and in the process have evoked pride among us as well.
Israel can have that affect on Jews.
To qualify to play for a team one did not need to be a
citizen of the country one was playing for, but was required to be able to
qualify for citizenship in the country they were playing for. Since
they all had some connection through a Jewish parent, they were eligible for
Israeli citizenship under the right of return, and therefore qualified to play
for Israel’s team.
In many respects, the rules of the World Baseball
Classic reminded us of Herzl’s dream and affirmed the Zionist vision of
Israel as a center of the Jewish people, which is why Klein is right.
The phenomena is about much more than baseball. The fact that these
guys were eligible to play for the Jewish homeland, and then were cheered on
by Jews in America shows it’s about Israel and about its relationship with
the Jews of the Diaspora, and what it means to be a Jew.
This motley crew took on some of the
powerhouses and best teams in baseball and somehow against all odds, beat
some tough teams. It is a paradigm of Jewish history – a story of
perseverance, of optimism and determination, a story of David against
Goliath, of the Maccabees against the Greeks. It is the story of the
Jewish people. It is our story.
Just three weeks ago we celebrated the holiday of
Purim, and in two weeks, we will celebrate the holiday of
Passover. (Another great thing about being Jewish by the way –
you are never too far away from a Jewish holiday.)
On Purim, we celebrate the defeat of the archetype arch
anti-Semite, Haman who wanted to annihilate the Jews of Persia. The
holiday is especially joyous and festive because the outcome was the exact
opposite of what the wicked Haman wanted to accomplish. The holiday
celebrates the irony that he was the one hung on the very gallows he built to
exterminate the Jews. We do not merely celebrate our being saved, but
are commanded to remember what it is that he, as well as the Amalekites of
that time, and throughout history wanted to do to us. The Shabbat that
precedes Purim is called Shabbat Zachor, when we are implored to remember
that the world can be a cruel place.
The mood of the holiday a week away is very
different. On Passover we are also commanded to remember – to remember
that we were once slaves. The holiday is called zman herutenu, the time
of our freedom. We seek to reenact the experience of slavery and our
being liberated by reliving our ordeal, which is why we have such stringent
rules about what is permitted and what is forbidden.
A story is told about a king who reversed his father’s
order forcing the Jews to convert. The town’s rabbi was excited and
told his wife. “Bracheleh,” he exclaimed, “I have great news. The
new king has said we don’t have to be Christian anymore. We can go back
to being Jews.” His wife let out a sigh, expressing
disappointment. The husband was surprised and puzzled, and asked her
what was wrong. “This was the moment we have been dreaming of and
waiting for,” he told his wife. She said, “I know. I know.
I can’t be happier, but couldn’t he at least have waited a few more days,
until after Pesah
to allow us to be Jews again?!”
We are commanded to rigorously observe the rituals of
Pesah so we remember that we were once strangers in the land of Egypt.
We recall our humble origins so we will have compassion and empathy towards
others who experience oppression and alienation.
On both holidays the command is the same.
Zachor: Remember. On one we remember what the Amalekites did to us, and
on one we remember that we were once slaves in the land of Egypt. An
article Yossi Klein Halevi wrote a few years ago pointed out the contrast and
tension caused by the two different types of remembering.
The message of the command to remember on Passover is a
universalistic one, reminding us of our history so we will have compassion
and not be brutal towards others. The message of the command to
remember on Purim, however is to remember how the tribe of Amalek attacked us
without provocation while we were wandering in the desert. The essence
of the Zachor of Purim is - do not be naïve, for there are those who are out
to annihilate you.
In other words, on Purim we are commanded to remember
what others have done to us, whereas on Passover we are commanded to remember
what we should do for others. Which imperative, which zachor,
command to remember speaks to you?
In reality, both of these conflicting notions are
essential parts of who and what we are, and of how we should respond to the
world around us. It reflects the challenge facing us and our brothers
and sisters in Israel: the challenge of living in a hostile environment and
the need to be ever vigilant against threats which are real, while striving
to maintain humanity, decency, morality and compassion, even towards those
who are enemies.
We need both holidays and the symbolism captured by
both kinds of remembrance. Jewish history demands that we heed both of
these voices, conflicting as they may be – reflecting the universalistic and
the particularistic message of Judaism. It is when we recall both
aspects of our history that we have a sense of our identity and purpose, and
of what we should aspire to be. So let us back on our past and remember
our history and tribulations, and be inspired by the beauty of the nobility
of our heritage and its message to learn from our experience our obligation
to have compassion towards others.
Rabbi Stuart Weinblatt
March 25, 2017
Potomac, MD
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