This is Not an Israel Sermon

Yom Kippur 5784

As I begin my remarks this Yom Kippur morning, there is one thing I want you to know: this is not a sermon about Israel.

But I want to share with you an eye-opening conversation about Israel this summer, when I was at Camp Havaya, an amazing Reconstructionist Jewish summer camp in the Poconos.  I was privileged to serve as faculty there for a week in July, so, along with getting to enjoy camp life and seeing my kids be campers and make new friends, I led services and learning sessions for staff and campers of all ages.  

I decided I would lead some sessions on the situation in Israel, because a crucial vote on judicial reform was coming up in the Knesset, Israel’s parliament, and I felt it was important that the camp community, this amazing, idyllic bubble of Jewish life tucked away in the woods, consider their connection to Israel, another amazing expression of Jewish culture and ideals across the pond from them. 

I wanted to find out what these kids knew and felt about Israel, but I really had no clear expectations about how the conversation would go.  One session was with the oldest campers, and I have to say that I was so impressed with their thoughtfulness, and their level of care and knowledge of Israel.  No one asked, “How does this relate to us?” or, “Why are we discussing Israel?”  

The conversation included their counselors, many of whom happen to be Israeli.  Camp Havaya, like many North American Jewish camps, employs counselors, specialists and educators through the Jewish Agency for Israel. They participate fully in camp life, teach Israeli and Jewish culture, and serve as role models for campers and staff. In 2023, 1,500 Shlichim worked at 158 camps across North America.

These Israeli counselors, as you might expect, themselves have different views about what is unfolding in Israel.  They really helped me understand the complexities of the situation, and they gave me deeper insight as to why Israelis feel so deeply, one way or another, about what is going on.  One young man likened the problem to other challenges Israel has faced in the past, and said that he wasn’t worried that the judicial overhaul would have a lasting impact on Israel.  But most others disagreed.  One counselor, in response, stated definitely, “If this bill passes, we can kiss Israel as a democracy goodbye.”

Just so everyone is aware, ever since this current government formed in December 2022, there has been massive civil unrest in Israel.  Every week this year, at the conclusion of Shabbat, Israelis of all stripes have poured into the streets of every major city and many smaller ones, protesting the judicial overhaul the government is pushing.  Millions of people, from the religious to the secular, from activists and to those who never imagined they would attend a demonstration.  Every week, continuously, for 39 weeks.  

Many Israelis feel that this crucial vote, that passed in late July, which strips the Israeli Supreme Court of certain powers, is just a first step in removing key checks and balances in the government, and would pave the way for the governing coalition — the most conservative and nationalist in Israel’s history — to create a more authoritarian and less pluralist society. The government and its supporters, on the other hand, say the change would enhance democracy by making elected lawmakers freer to enact what voters chose them to do. The dispute reflects a painful schism in Israeli society; arguably Israel’s biggest domestic crisis in its history.

But I share this conversation at Camp Havaya with you because of what happened next.  One camper, herself about 15 years old, asked the Israeli counselor, “What can we do to support you?”  And he answered, “Just having this conversation is so important.  It shows that you care about what is happening in Israel.  Israelis often feel alone in the world.  Now I don’t feel so alone.”  He said it was important that American Jews keep talking about what is happening in Israel, whether it is just trying to understand the issues or speaking out more broadly.

So no, this sermon is not about Israel.  This sermon is about us – Am Yisrael, we, the people of Israel. There aren’t so many of us – about 7 million Jews in North America, another 7 million in Israel, and 1 million more worldwide.  Yet we are so divided!  Beyond the differences in language, culture, and religious practice, the ocean of misunderstanding around our values, our priorities, and our support for Israel is widening.  That’s part of why the camp shlichim program is so important.

I have been thinking a lot about Am Yisrael lately, especially after our beloved Rabbi Judy Abrahamson passed this summer.  She was an ardent supporter of Israel, the country, and she and Martin visited Israel as often as they could.  But I think she believed even more passionately in Am Yisrael.  She was a consummate teacher, mentor, friend – a builder of Am Yisrael in every way.  She would drop anything to help someone.  It wasn’t just because she was a nice person, or had a giant heart, which she did.  She saw it as her responsibility.  She lived by the principle Kol Yisrael arevim zeh ba’zeh. All of Israel is responsible for one another.  We are, more than a faith or religion, we Jews are a people who stand in solidarity with one another.

I want to also state emphatically that Am Yisrael also includes anyone who throws their lot in with the Jewish people, whether you were raised Jewish or not, or whether or not you converted.  You are a part of Am Yisrael if you count yourself as part of a Jewish family, if you stand with us during times of celebration or challenge.  

We, as a nation, are borderless and boundless. We may not live in Medinat Yisrael, the modern State of Israel, but we are part of its diverse people, and what happens in Israel affects Jews worldwide, for better or for worse.  

We also recognize, as Am Yisrael, that Eretz Yisrael, the ancient land of Israel, is our spiritual homeland.  Eretz Yisrael is the Israel of the Bible, and it’s the Israel we yearn for in our prayers. Eretz Yisrael is distinct from Medinat Yisrael even though they share much of the same physical territory. Medinat Yisrael is the modern state of Israel, including its government, while Eretz Yisrael is thousands of years old, the land of Abraham and King David, the prophets, and the Holy Temple and its priestly caste.  Eretz Yisrael is our holy land, just as Yom Kippur is our holiest day.  

On Yom Kippur, in biblical times, the high priest would make expiation, meaning a holy reparation, for all of Am Yisrael. He would enter the holiest place in the Temple, known as the Holy of Holies, and utter God’s most holy name.  So you can picture it – all the holiest parts of the world coming together to heal and strengthen that sacred connection between God and the world.

So this is why I come to you, on this most holy day, to suggest that we make a repair.  We need to heal this divide within Am Yisrael.  We need to figure out how to talk about Israel. And that is going to make a lot of people here, including myself, uncomfortable. 

You know the saying – two Jews, three opinions.  We have very strong opinions and deep feelings about Israel.  One congregant told me, “I am liberal on just about every issue, but when it comes to Israel, I am more conservative and protective about Israel.”  She is not alone in that sentiment.  When we talk about Israel, we risk being at odds with one another about something most holy and precious to us that goes to the core of our identity as Jews.

Some of you have shared with me that you feel that you don’t know enough about Israel to have an opinion.  Some of you may feel angry about the choices of the Israeli government today.  Still others feel uncomfortable voicing an opinion because we don’t live in Israel – we only see the headlines, we don’t experience the day-to-day joys and challenges of life in Israel. 

Many of us feel that Israel needs more defending and championing than it gets, especially considering what an absolute miracle it is that the modern State of Israel even exists and thrives as it does. Sadly, it is so often vilified in the press, on college campuses, and social media, and that Israel has become a soft target for antisemites. 

Well, I have many good things to say about Israel – an incredibly beautiful and holy homeland for world Jewry, a deeply rich and dynamic cultural center of Jewish life, and a place where I’ve been blessed to live four times in my lifetime, and to visit a few times more. I am excited to visit Israel again this winter, God willing, with my family.  But I am not someone who thinks that Israel can do no wrong.  

The State of Israel was created with certain ideals that in many ways it strives and fails to live up to.  Israel’s Declaration of Independence proclaims that it shall “be based on freedom, justice and peace as envisaged by the prophets of Israel; it will ensure complete equality of social and political rights to all its inhabitants irrespective of religion, race or sex; it will guarantee freedom of religion, conscience, language, education and culture; it will safeguard the Holy Places of all religions,” and more. We as Am Yisrael need to hold Medinat Yisrael to that promise. 

As Rabbi Beth Kalish shared with her congregation recently, “Israeli democracy is not perfect. Palestinian citizens of Israel live within the democratic structure of the state, but face systemic discrimination. Mizrachi Jews, whose families immigrated to Israel from other Middle Eastern countries, are still disadvantaged in Israeli society compared to Ashkenazi Jews, and Ethiopian Jews are the victims of racism. There is economic inequality in Israel, as well as sexism, bigotry, xenophobia, and religious extremism. And… Palestinians who live in the West Bank under Israeli occupation, who are not citizens of Israel, live without democratic rights and face indignities and suffering that we cannot continue to ignore. Standing for democracy in Israel should not mean working for a return to the prior status quo, but working instead toward a fuller expression of Israeli democracy.” 

And I agree. Much like the United States, another country I love, I offer my criticisms and opinions because I believe in it and I care about its people and its place in this world.  

As countries go, Israel is very young. Some of us here can remember when Israel, surrounded by enemies, was fighting for its survival as a fledgling nation.  Israel’s army and infrastructure have developed amazingly since those early years, with the help of the American Jewish community and the American government.  As its economy stabilized, our concern centered on Israel’s safety and security.  Do you know it has been exactly 50 years since the Yom Kippur War, and 30 years last week since the Oslo Accords were signed?  

Back in 1993, it was a lot easier to talk about Israel.  It was a time of optimism and hope for peace. Imagine, an Israeli prime minister and a Palestinian leader shaking hands on the White House lawn!

But all that feeling came crashing down when that same prime minister, Yitzkhak Rabin, was assassinated on November 4, 1995, after a peace rally.  That was one of the moments that I remember exactly where I was when I heard.  And his killer was a fellow Israeli, a religious zealot who some called a hero.  

Reflecting on that moment, and the one Israel is facing now, I can say that it is extremism and divisions within our own people, not external attacks, that are our greatest threats to Israel’s existence  

Israel’s president, Isaac Herzog, has warned that the current schism could lead to civil war.  This controversial bill has set off such chaos and pain because it is rooted in a far deeper rift among competing sections of Israeli society about what it means to be a Jewish state. Yedidia Stern, a law professor who was involved in last-minute efforts to broker a compromise between the opposition and the ruling coalition, told the NYTimes, “This is a symbol or manifestation of a major, deeper lack of trust between parts of Israeli society.” He described Israel as a country of four tribes: religious nationalists, ultra-Orthodox Jews, secular Jews and Arabs — the first two of which are now in power. Though allies, they do not share an identical agenda but collectively form a growing right-wing bloc that poses a challenge to the social groups that have long dominated Israel.

As part of that conversation at Camp Havaya, one Israeli counselor shared that, shortly before he was due to come to the US for camp, he was arrested after attending one of these demonstrations. He shared that the police were more violent than was warranted. He did not get into details in front of the campers, but he said that he feared that because of an increased sense of division and anger in the country, that there was less restraint in how the police were responding to the opposition.  He pointed to the recent unprecedented level of settler attacks and abject violence on Arab villages in the West Bank.

These kinds of reports may make us uncomfortable, defensive, or angry.  After all, he is just one voice, right?  But that voice is naming a certain basic lack of trust, and that you will hear echoed from people from every political persuasion in Israel.  How do you rebuild from that?  

We need to listen to the pain of Israelis – not to offer advice, or criticism, but to listen and support.  They are the other half of the beating heart that is Am Yisrael.  This is a sacred opportunity to heal and come together.

Unfortunately, the American Jewish community doesn’t have a great history in that department. We have avoided having those hard conversations about Israel – about Palestinians, its security situation, the Occupation.  “American Jews have not developed the muscle that we now need to respond to this regime,” as Rabbi Sharon Brous, a Conservative rabbi who serves the community called IKAR in Los Angeles, put it.   So now, we’re not sure exactly what to do.

In February, thee Israeli journalists Matti Friedman, Yossi Klein Halevi and Daniel Gordis, who often interpret and defend Israel’s actions for a mainstream, more conservative Zionist audience, wrote an unprecedented open letter in The Times of Israel pleading for American Jews to get involved before it’s too late, saying: “The changes afoot will have dire consequences for the solidarity of Israel’s society… None of us is an alarmist. But this is a moment for alarm.”

We need to exercise the Israel muscle, if not for the sake of Medinat Yisrael, but for the sake of Am Yisrael.  Because what happens in Israel directly impacts Jews worldwide.  You can see it, tragically, in the rise of anti-semitism, which is well documented by the Anti-Defamation League and other organizations.  Am Yisrael is stronger when Medinat Israel is secure and at peace.  When Israel is weaker, more isolated and vulnerable, regardless of who you might say is to blame, the diaspora Jewish community is more vulnerable as well.

We have sinned.  Al chet she’chatanu lifanecha.  We have turned the other way.  We have remained silent.  We have claimed helplessness.  We have played the blame game.  We have stated we have no partner for peace when in truth we ourselves never sought out a partner. We have gotten defensive, and we have not bothered to hear the other side of the story.  We have disengaged, we have not visited Israel, nor have we reached out to Israelis to offer our support.  We have not educated ourselves or our children, and we have not faced uncomfortable truths about Israel’s history and its present circumstances. 

And, I have sinned.  As your rabbi, I haven’t pushed us to have difficult conversations as well as I could have. Why?  Because it’s hard and tricky and emotional.  And, because I haven’t wanted to risk hurting any of you and causing discomfort or shame. 

But, you know, a little shame isn’t so bad! The feeling of shame, or boosha, is a wake up call to our conscience. Rabbi Angela Buchdahl recently gave a Rosh haShana sermon about this very topic, teaching that, “We feel [shame] when we recognize we are not living up to our ideals. And, if you take the Hebrew root letters of Boosha: Bet-Vav-Shin, and reverse them, they spell SHUV – RETURN.” We certainly need to move beyond shame in order to truly make a change. 

If American Jews don’t figure out how to champion the ideals that Israel represents and how to lovingly hold Israel accountable to them, then do we know how to respond to criticisms about Israel from outside the Jewish community, or to anti-Semitic threats?  

It doesn’t matter where in the political spectrum you are, or whether you approve of the current Israeli government or not. They are doing what they are doing in your name, in the name of all of the Israels. We need to reclaim our moral voice with regard to Israel.

As liberal American Jews, we have a lot of power when it comes to Israel, but we aren’t used to flexing it.  We can voice our concern to American Jewish organizations that speak on our behalf, like our local Federation, AIPAC, JStreet, and the Jewish Council for Public Affairs.  

We also need to support organizations in Israel that support our values – pluralism, democracy, diversity, equal rights, and human rights.  This is not a time to be silent or remain neutral.

Most of all, don’t give up. The situation is complicated, but stay engaged, ask questions, begin conversations, invite speakers. And when the discussion becomes heated, get quiet and listen.

We are all responsible for one another, Kol Yisrael arevim ze bazeh. This is stated in the Talmud, Tractate Shevuot 39a, in a discussion of the domino effect of sin. If one Jew sees another Jew at the verge of sinning, they have an obligation to step in and help. This phrase is the basis of the notion of communal responsibility in Jewish law. 

We are inextricably connected, in challenging but also beautiful ways.  THe nation of Israel is not defined by its land or geographic boundaries – it is defined by its people.  

Today our people are scattered throughout the world.  But, on Yom Kippur, when we remember our Temple and the High Priest making atonement for all of us, we return to the knowledge that we are one people, Am Yisrael, each of us imperfect, but together whole.

Gmar chatima tova – may we be sealed for goodness in the New Year.