Who by Lack of Insurance, Who by Pre-existing Conditions…

 

By Rabbi Michele Brand Medwin

 

Erev Rosh Hashanah, 5770

 

 

 

Did you hear the story of the Jewish mother? She had two sons.  One of her son’s was very ambitious and wanted to use his ambition to make the world a better place.  He ran for mayor of his town and won.  When his term was over, he ran for senator of the state and won.  When that term was over he ran for president of the United States, and, low and behold, he won - The first Jewish president!   At inauguration day, the president’s mother was being interviewed by the press.   “Well Mrs. Cohen, how does it feel.  Your son is the first Jewish president of the United States.“ She paused for a moment and then replied, “Well that is very nice, but you should meet my other son – HE’s a DOCTOR!

 

Jewish doctors and healing have always been an important part of our tradition.    Maimonides, one of Judaism’s most respected rabbi’s and commentators was also a physician.

 

Take a moment to look at page 87 in our prayer books.  There are two prayers that are part of our every day morning liturgy. The bottom prayer is a prayer for the soul, which you might expect in a prayer book.  But the top prayer is a prayer for the physical body.  Blessed is our Eternal God… who has made out bodies with wisdom.  I affectionately refer to this prayer as the “Bathroom” prayer.  The translation you have there is a poetic interpretation.  This is the real translation: Thank you God that all my openings that are suppose to be open are open, and all the openings that are suppose to be closed are closed because if they weren’t, I would not be able to exist and stand here before You.

 

And each Friday night, after we read from the Torah we recite the following prayer asking for healing of our loved ones:

 

Mi Shebarach Avotainu v’imoteinu,

May the one who blessed our ancestors… bless and heal those who are ill.

 

Now we are modern Jews, and we don’t believe that prayer and blessing alone can heal a person.  Prayers for healing are important, but most of the time they won’t work without the addition medical treatment. If, as Jews, we pray for the sick at each service, what then is our obligation to ensure that those we pray for have access, not only to spiritual healing, but also to resources that can physically heal them.  With all the media attention over the past few months, it is hard not to know, that there are many people in this country who do not have access to such resources.

 

 

During both High Holy Day morning services we read the Unetaneh Tokef Prayer.

 

B’rosh Hashanah yikateivun…. u-v’yom kippur yei-chateimun

 

On Rosh Hashanah it is written, On Yom Kippur it is sealed

How many shall pass on, how many shall come to be

Who shall see ripe age and who shall not…

 

And then it goes on to offer a long list of possibilities…

Who by fire and who by water,

Who by sword and who by beast

Who shall be tranquil and who shall be troubled

Who shall be poor and who shall be rich

 

And this year perhaps we need to add to the list –

Who by lack of insurance, and who by pre-existing conditions…..

Who shall remain sick, and who shall be healed

 

Health Care reform is portrayed in the media as a Republican or a Democratic issue.  But for us, sitting here in shul as we begin the Ten Days of Repentence, is not a political issue but a Jewish issue. Judaism has much to say about health care. 

 

We read in the book of Exodus[1], if one person injures another in a fight, the assailant must heal him. Based on this verse, The Talmud teaches -  One should not live in a town that does not have a doctor.  Nachmonides  also comments on this verse.  He says this is to teach us that people should not say the Holy One struck him with illness and is the one to heal.  Rather we, as human beings, are commanded to heal each other.

 

In Deuteronomy we come across a different situation.[2] It says, “One who finds lost property – He shall return it to him.”  The word for “It” in Hebrew is the same word for “Him” so the verse can also be read, “He shall return him to himself”.   Maimonides says,  “From this we learn it is required to return a person’s body to him– that is – to save a person’s life. Maimonides interprets this to mean that providing medical care is commanded in the Torah.

 

In the Shulchan Aruch, a Jewish law book, Joseph Caro says, “The Torah gives permission to the physician to heal; moreover this is a religious precept and is included in the mitzvah category of pikuah nefesh, saving a life.[3]  And saving a life supersedes almost every other commandment.

 

 

In our society, because health care is so costly, in order to have access to health care, you need to have some kind of health care coverage.  We have all heard stories in the media about people with health insurance issues, but I wanted to make it more personal, so I did an informal survey of members of the Temple. Some pointed out the incredibly high costs, $12-$15,000 a year, for people who are self-employed. They also expressed the concern of sky rocketing health insurance costs, increasing exponentially every year.

 

I heard of a relative who became disabled and was unable to work so she lost her health insurance.  Then she was unable to get health insurance on her own due to her pre-existing medical condition.

 

So we have similar stories to tell along with the rest of the country.  Interestingly, though, these are stories from only 7 people, and only two were affected personally.  The rest shared stories of others they knew.  With all the fuss in the media, I wondered why I hadn’t heard from more people.  I know that my request for feedback from you was sent through e-mail and Friday night services, and some of you don’t have e-mail and some of you don’t come to Friday night services, but the conclusion I came to is that most of us in this congregation do have health insurance coverage and are generally satisfied with what we have.  So if we are fine, why should this be an issue worthy of our time, especially tonight?

 

I think it is important to repeat that this is a Jewish issue - that Judaism teaches that life is not just about us personally but also about how we care for others.  Even if we have access to medical care, it is still our religious obligation to see that others do too.  This is not a new issue.  This has gone one for millennia.

 

There is a story in the Babylonian Talmud[4]– about Abba the blood letter .  (which was considered good medical care in those days.)  He had a place outside his office to place coins in to pay for his service. That way, those who could, would place coins in the container, those who couldn’t pay, could come in and sit without being ashamed.

 

In Deuteronomy we are told: When you reap the harvest in your field and overlook a sheaf in the field, do not turn back to get it; it shall go to the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow—in order that the Eternal your God may bless you in all your undertakings[5]

 

Why this group?  These are individuals in need, who can’t provide for themselves.  We are told that those who can provide for themselves are still responsible to see that those who can’t, are provided for.

 

The Shulchan Aruch expands on this concept of helping the sick : There are those who say that the commandment to build and support a synagogue takes precedent over the commandment to give charity to the poor, but the commandment to give money to the sick takes precedence over the commandment to build a synagogue. [6]  Those who are poor and sick and unable to care for themselves, need to be taken care of by us.

 

Yes, there are different ways to do this, and we may not all agree on the best way to solve the crisis, but we do need to agree that there IS a crisis and it MUST be addressed.  To do this we need to have a rational debate based on facts, not fear mongering and lies. It is a disgrace that town hall meetings erupt in such belligerent behavior.  And it is a disgrace that scare tactics spreading false information are being used for political gain.

 

Let me share with you a quote from a well-known politician regarding the government getting involved with health care.

 

“American people, if you put it to them about socialized medicine and gave them a chance to choose, would unhesitatingly vote against it. And if you don't do this, and if I don't do it, one of these days, you and I are going to spend our sunset years telling our children, and our children's children, what it once was like in America when men were free.”

Who do you think said this and when?

It was said in 1961 by Ronald Reagan as the country was debating the introduction of Medicare legislation.  Then President Kennedy sent a message to congress recommending health insurance for the elderly under Social Security.  It took four more years under President Johnson for that bill to be signed.

I would imagine that one of the reasons many members of our congregation have health care coverage is because of the average age of the congregation.  How many of you have Medicare?  If this was 1961, two-thirds of you who are over 65 years of age would have no hospital insurance.  Imagine where you would be today, if members of congress listened to Reagan and refused to adopt the Medicare Health Plan. 

Just as you have health care covered, so is it our obligation as Jews to find ways for everyone to have access to health care. We need to find a way to put politics aside so we can move in the right direction for everyone in this country.  It is our task to weed through all the information that is being thrust at us, so we can make intelligent, informed decisions about the issues. It is important to let your voices be heard.   Contact your legislators and share your thoughts. We cannot let this be tabled for a later time. 

 

If you would like some information, I have made copies of a handouts called, “A Guide to the Health Care Reform Debate,”  provided by the Religious Action Center jointly with PICO - People Improving Communities through Organizing. They are outside on the bench. Feel free to take a copy and to help you become informed about the issues. Don’t let the scare tactics overshadow the true goals of the proposed legislation. As we are a people of action, the last page of the handout provides suggestions for things you can do.

 

 

Maimonides[7] teaches us, “Health and wholeness of the body are among the ways of God.  For it is impossible that one can understand or know anything of the knowledge of the creator when one is ill.  Therefore one must distance oneself from anything that is harmful to the body and conduct oneself  in ways that create health and wellness.”

 

A failure to promote health when we have the ability to do so, impedes our chances of achieving our full spiritual and personal potential.  Just as we do for ourselves so should we do for others.  For we all created in the image of God and are all worthy of the care needed to keep our bodies healthy.

 

Most of the list in theUnetaneh Tokef  prayer is in God’s hands.

Who by lack of insurance and who by pre-existing conditions, is in ours.

 

 

As Rabbi Eric Yoffie, president of the Reform movement,  said in his sermon at the San Diego Biennial two years ago “… the health insurance situation in this country is a disaster. If we continue to tolerate it, we will lose our humanity, and no matter our other accomplishments, we will have failed as a people and a nation. So let us work to change it, piece by piece and child by child—until no cry for help goes unheard. Only in this way can we honor the image of God in every human being.”

 

End with singing Mi sheberach – Lisa Levine

 

  

 How Do You Spell Success?

 

By Rabbi Michele Brand Medwin

 

Rosh Hashanah Day 5770

 

-Four yachts including a 56 foot pleasure craft

-three luxury cars

- a penthouse apartment in Manhattan

- a home in Montauk

- 3 Palm Beach Properties

 

One year ago, we would have defined such a person as being very successful.  Today, the owner of all this, sits in a federal prison for the rest of his life, not able to use any of it.  One year ago, Bernard Madoff was in the prime of his life, the envy of all who knew him.   And now he is an embarrassment to himself, his family, his country, and his fellow Jews.  And he has ruined the lives of so many who trusted him.

 

A year ago, if I asked you to define a successful person, you probably would immediate think of someone who had made a great deal of money and had lots of “stuff” to show for it - someone like Bernard Madoff.  Why he even “helped” charities by investing their money for them. 

 

We often define others by what they have –

“He’s the one that drives that fancy car.”

“They’re the ones that live in that huge mansion.”

“He easily makes a salary of well over six figures – and the bonuses he takes home…”

“Oh they travel all over the world on vacation.”

More significantly though, we often define ourselves by what we have, compared to them. The Talmud reminds us: Bad neighbors count a man’s income but not his expenses.[1]

In the early 1990’s there was a popular TV show called “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.”  We were given tours of huge mansions, custom yachts, and privately owned Garden of Eden type islands.  It was so American to look upon such people as role models, to be envious of them, as they became a source of inspiration for us to emulate.  And so we pursued the American dream, buying and borrowing, and buying more and borrowing more. 

 

But we could not live like that forever.  Eventually it caught up with us.  All that changed last year, as the U.S. economy took a nosedive.  Suddenly, many people who were once considered successful because of all they possessed, lost those things that defined them as successful – their job, their savings, their home, their status, and their self-respect.  All that they valued, was suddenly gone.

 

But what is it that we should truly value?  There is a New Yorker cartoon that shows  parents and children sitting around the dinner table having a serious conversation.  The father says to the kids, “We have less money now.  We can’t buy all the things we used to buy.  So, we are going to have to downsize.  I am going to have to let some of you go.” 

 

As hard as this recession has been for many, maybe there is a silver lining in these dark storm clouds.  The new economic reality has forced us to reevaluate our priorities.  It has forced us to ask, “Is our self-worth and perception of success connected to dollar figures or to some other means of measurement?” We have been given the opportunity to truly ask ourselves, “Of all the things that we have, including family and friends, what do we really need?  What is really important to us, and what can we live without?

 

In light of the past year, how SHOULD we define success?

The dictionary offers this definition: The attainment of profit or the gaining of wealth. That is how we have defined success for way too many years.  But at what cost?  Selfish CEO’s made millions off the backs of their workers, without concern for their workers lives or their needs.  Lenders deceived families into buying homes they could not afford, so the lenders could make a profit as they bundled and resold their mortgages, leaving behind shattered dreams and desperate families forced into homelessness.

 

Jewish tradition understood the temptations that money can bring.  Raba, a Talmudic rabbi, reminds us: When man is led before the Holy One for final Judgment in Heaven, the first question God will ask is, “Were you honest in your business dealings?”[2]

Of all questions – why would God ask you this first?  Not, did you pray enough, not did you keep Shabbat, but were you honest in business.  Raba explains that if you are not honest in your business dealings, can you be trusted to be honest in other relationships? If you are not honest with others, can you be honest with yourself? If you are not faithful with others, can your faith in God be trusted?

 

The dictionary offers another definition of success– the accomplishment of an aim or goal.  If we focus on this definition of success rather than “gaining wealth,” what are the goals we should strive to accomplish?  Have we been lured into reaching for the wrong goals?

The Torah teaches us what our goals in life should be.  In Lev. 26:4 we read, “I will grant your rains in their season, so that the earth shall yield its produce and the trees of the field their fruit.”  Yes, the sign of success in biblical days is having fields filled with abundant food to eat. And yes, you need to work the land. But that is not enough. How do you get the rain you need for such a success?  The previous verse tells us under what circumstances God will provide that rain:  Only “If you follow My laws and faithfully observe My commandments.” There are many ways to obtain wealth and success, but that which we obtain by following the ethical teachings of Torah, are the ones that are the most valuable, and the  most meaningful.

 

We are reminded of what is truly valuable each morning in our daily prayers.

 

These are things that have limitless value,

Of which you enjoy its benefits in this world

But get back the principal in the world to come:

 

They are:
honoring one’s mother and father

Engaging in deeds of compassion

Dealing graciously with guests

Visiting the sick

Accompanying the dead for burial

And making peace among people.[3]

 

The prayer mentions benefits and principal, but it isn’t talking bout investment banking and stock market portfolios.  It is talking about how we treat other people. 

 

So how do we deal with the current economic crisis?  With stock values way below previous gains, unemployment still high, home foreclosures continuing, college graduates as well as middle-aged laid off workers unable to find work, how do we cope!  Often… it is in the midst of a crisis that we begin to do some real soul searching.  We are forced to take time to reevaluate our lives and our actions.  We can look at the past year, not as a nightmare, but as an opportunity to reevaluate what is really important in our lives.

 

Think of an occasion in your life when you truly felt happy and content.  Was it because you had a lot of money or purchased some yearned for acquisition, only to realize that a few days or weeks later, the joy wore off and you were searching for the next bigger and better item to buy?

 

One of the happiest years of my life was when I was living with my family in Jerusalem, during the first year of rabbinical school.  While I looked forward to starting on this new journey in my life, I didn’t think through the financial repercussions which took us years and years to recover from.  Steve took an unpaid leave of absence from work.  I was using student loans to pay for tuition, and we took money out of our retirement account, paying the penalty for early withdrawal, to live on for the year.  Not only that, we gave up an entire year of income.   We had to count every penny – or more accurately, each shekel.  The four of us lived in a small apartment.  Utilities were very expensive - so we washed dishes by hand rather than use the dishwasher.  We took very short showers because hot water was so precious.  And we huddled around small heaters rather than turn on the central heat.  We had very little money for entertainment or eating out.  When my kids wanted to buy something, I often had to say, “No, we just don’t have enough money.”  Sounds like a real hardship, yet, that was one of the most special years of our lives.  We didn’t have a car so we walked everywhere.  That led to wonderful discussions and conversations.  We learned that being together as a family, spending quality time together, was more valuable than anything money could buy. I was almost sorry to see the year end, knowing that we would once again have an income, and it would be harder to say, “No” to buying what we wanted, but didn’t really need.

 

 

Yes, its nice to have money, but money can distort your perception of reality.  It is very easy to lured into a false sense of self-satisfaction and pride in your assets when everything is going well financially.  Moses was well aware of this human temptation.  As the Israelites were about to enter the Promised Land, a land flowing with milk and honey, a land that would offer them so much more than they ever had in Egypt or in the wilderness – Moses was afraid that, lured by all the riches of the new land, they would forget where their prosperity came from.  And he lectured them:

 

“ Remember the long way that the Eternal your God has made you travel in the wilderness these past forty years, that God might test you by hardships to learn what was in your hearts: whether you would keep God’s commandments or not.[4]

 

“For the Eternal your God is bringing you into a good land.. a land where you may eat food without stint, where you will lack nothing; a land whose rocks are iron and from whose hills you can mine copper. [5]

 

“When you have eaten your fill, and have built fine houses to live in, and your herds and flocks have multiplied, and your silver and gold have increased, and everything you own has prospered, beware lest your heart grow haughty and you forget the Eternal your God— and you say to yourselves, “My own power and the might of my own hand have won this wealth for me.”  Remember that it is Eternal One who gives you the power to get wealth.  [6]

 

Have we, as Americans, living in a land of plenty, grown too haughty. Have we forgotten what our responsibilities and purpose in life should be?  Even if individually, you have continued to do mitzvot, and used your money for righteous purposes, we are all still guilty for allowing our society to perpetuate such lusting after money as the soul/sole measure of success. When we recite the confessional prayers on Yom Kippur, they are in the plural.

“For the sins that WE have committed.” To live in community means taking responsibility for the actions of the community.

 

In business schools it was taught that the bottom line for success was the profit and loss statement implying that how you got there was up to you.  The book of Proverbs has some different business teachings.  It reminds us that to acquire the discipline for success, you also need righteousness and justice along with equity.[7]  Righteousness and justice - these are words that were rarely, if ever, mentioned around board room tables. “

 

What type of success are they talking about here?  Perhaps some of it is monetary, but I read this as understanding success to mean a person who is able to do is right in the world, even at the expense of attaining monetary riches.  Proverbs says, “He who strives to do good and kind deeds attains life, success, and honor.” [8]  Honor is a word lacking in so many of the news reports of corporations and businesses.

 

Yes, it is easy to be tempted by the excitement of what wealth will bring.  Proverbs understood the human psyche. We are reminded not to be seduced by others who tempt us away from doing what is right.

 

“ My son, if sinners entice you, do not yield; If they say, ‘Come, Let us lie in wait for the innocent . We shall obtain every precious treasure; We shall fill our homes with loot. Throw in your lot with us; We shall all have a common purse.’

My son, do not set out with them; Keep your feet from their path.

For their feet run to evil; They hurry to shed blood. They lie in wait for their own lives. Such is the fate of all who pursue unjust gain; It takes the life of its possessor.“[9]

 

 

Instead of being lured after more and more, perhaps there is a different model to consider.

About a month ago Steve and I went to a wedding out of town.  The daughter of friends of ours was getting married. Now I have been to many weddings as a rabbi.  But this was a very different wedding.  The couple is committed to the environment and they live very simply – composting, recycling, using bicycles to get around instead of cars.  They are active members of a bicycling community.  So for the wedding, all the guests met at their apartment with their bicycles.  The “processional” was a bicycle parade riding to a public park that was about a mile away, where the wedding took place.  The members of the wedding party were “driven” to the park in pedicabs – a vehicle with a seat for two, driven by a bicycle in front, that uses human power rather than gas.   The party was back at their apartment, in the courtyard, rather than at a fancy hotel.   

 

While we were there the bride gave us a tour of their home.  It was a very small one room apartment on the top floor of this cooperative they lived in.  The groom took out a large ladder for those of us who wanted to climb up and look through the open sky light to see the “green” roof they were building.  The bride was in the kitchen sharing with us her fantasy of being able to live in this very small apartment and diving the room with a wall when they had a baby, implying that having a big house is so wasteful.

 

My first reaction was, I could never live like that.  But as the party went on, and I saw them with their wonderful community of cyclers and their simpler lifestyle, I couldn’t help but reflect – maybe they are the ones that have it right.  Maybe they should be our role models rather than the other way around.

 

Now, I am not advocating that we run to get rid of everything we have.  I do enjoy my three bedroom house with study and family room, with a two care garage where I keep my hybrid car and SUV.  And I cannot live without my power book computer and my Blackberry.

 

They say things happen for a reason.  As I was working on this sermon, I was having problems syncing my Blackberry to my computer.  I was loosing important data.  But you can only communicate with the software company by e-mail.  There is no phone support.  So as I was writing this sermon, I kept listening for a ding to tell me that an e-mail had arrived from technical support.   I would write a little of the sermon, hear the ding, respond with another e-mail, write a little more, hear another ding and respond again.  It was getting frustrating not being able to find the cause of my problem.  I began to wonder if I should take my own advice from this sermon.  If I used a paper calendar, I wouldn’t be having this distraction during my precious high holy day prep time!

 

I finally got my technical problem fixed.  After hours of e-mailing back and forth to the same technician, I sent a final e-mail of thanks and explained that I was a rabbi and how ironic it was that I was working on this sermon about learning to be happy with less. His reply was, “Electronic gadgets teach sermons themselves by nature of their existence, they teach us patience don't they? Or maybe they just try us and we have to learn the patience on our own.”

 

We CAN learn to do with less, and we may even find that we are happier and more content for it.  If we eat out less, that means we spend more time at home with family.  (Although my mother taught me an important lesson .  When we go to a restaurant, she points out all the employees there and says, “Look at all these people who wouldn’t have a job if I didn’t eat out.”)

 

Maybe you didn’t go on a fancy vacation this year, like you have in previous years.  While it is nice to go to fancy hotels, there is a benefit to staying in simpler accommodations.  Steve and I usually spend a week camping in the summer.  We enjoy getting back to basics and living the simple life, if only for a week.  But even more importantly, when we get home, I truly appreciate the little things in my home that I forget to appreciate.  When I come back from a stay at a fancy hotel, I am sad to realize that this fancy life style is only temporary and it is a reminder when I get home, of all that I don’t have.  When I come back from camping, my house seems like a mansion.

 

The economic issues involved here go beyond our own personal ability to appreciate what we have.  It involves an unhealthy approach to obtaining all that you can. That has been fueled by society.  We are constantly bombarded by ads that remind us that our house isn’t big enough, our car isn’t fast enough, and our jewelry is not gaudy enough. Have you heard the expression, “Who ever dies with the most toys, wins.”  Only in American would they come up with such an expression.  But what do they really win?   You can’t take it with you. The second commandment tells us, “You shall have no other gods besides Me. You shall not bow down to them or serve them. [10]Our society has turned the acquiring of wealth into a religion, worshipping money and things.  Mansions, yachts, and luxury cars have become our gods. 

 

I am getting quite concerned about the future of our country.  I usually am an optimistic person, but I am beginning to fear that our country will no longer be the great country it was.  When you look at great empires that have come and gone, after they achieved their greatness they lost perspective on what is really important.  Greed, cheating, mistreating others, stealing, - all the things they needed to obtain and keep their wealth, brought them all down. 

 

 

The rabbis of the Talmud ask –

“Who are the guardians of a city? ”Is it the soldiers and warriors with their guns and ammunition? No, their answer is: “The teachers of Bible and Mishnah.”  (Yerushalmi  Hagigah 2)

 

The sages remind us that if the leaders of a community forget the importance of following and requiring morals and ethical teachings of their people, no amount of physical power can sustain them. I fear that if we continue on this path, we will be following the foot steps of those great empires of the past who are only known through history books.

 

As of now – the economy is slowly turning around.  But I hope we as individuals, and well as our nation, have learned some valuable lessons from this past year.   It is my prayer and hope that, even as the economy recovers, we don’t go back to the way we were before the economy turned sour.   That, as the stock market continues to climb to previous levels, that we don’t go back to taking what we have for granted.  That we remember to keep in perspective all that is truly valuable and important in our lives and in society.  And that we keep ethics and morals in the forefront of our economic decisions.

 

The TALMUD asks us:  “Who is rich? “ And answers, “One who is content with his lot.”[11]

 

How do you see yourself?

What enriches your life?

Are you rich?

Are you content with what you have?

 

May God grant us the ability to find our path towards contentment, doing mitzvot, with a life enriched with family and friends, and maybe a little “stuff.”

 

Amen

 

 

******

 

I’m not Religious, But…!

By Rabbi Michele Brand Medwin

Kol Nidre 5770

 

 

Suppose we had a visitor from another planet.  He was a social scientist from an advanced civilization who came to earth to learn about the religions of earthlings.  He wanted you to help him find a religious Jew.  What description would you give him?

 

Would you tell him to look for someone in a black hat?

Someone with a beard and peyous?

 

And if he asked you what a religious Jew does –

 

Would you say:

 

            He keeps kosher

            Davens three times a day

Puts on tefillin

            Doesn’t drive or use electricity on Shabbat

            Studies Jewish texts all day long, every day

            Is only allowed to have sex with his wife certain weeks of the month

 

And If the visitor wanted to see what a religious Jewish worship service was like would you send him over to Landfield or to one of the shuls in the bungalow colonies?  You certainly wouldn’t take him here to Temple Sholom.  After all, we’re “not religious.”  We are only Reform Jews.

 

There is an interesting phenomenon that I have noticed since I have been the rabbi here in Monticello.  There is a phrase that I often hear people say in discussions with me as a rabbi.   And to be honest, when I hear it, it really gets me upset.  Yes, I have heard this phrase before, in other places, but not nearly as often as I hear it in this community.  People often feel the need to preface what they are about to tell me in regards to some religious topic by saying…

           

“I’m not religious, but…”    or       “I’m just a Reform Jew.”

 

It is said in a very apologetic tone.  Jews in our Temple Sholom community always seem to be apologizing for not being religious enough, not being Jewish enough. 

 

I first became aware of this phenomenon when I asked our confirmation students to write an essay on what being Jewish meant to them.  Along with their long lists of all the things they did in their lives that were Jewish, there was a recurring undertone of, “but I am only a Reform Jew.” In effect, apologizing for not being more like the Orthodox.  Yet, here were students who were so committed to Judaism that they studied beyond their Bar Mitzvah to learn more about what their religion had to offer them. 

 

But it is not just these students.  Once I became sensitized to it, I began noticing that phrase more and more often in my conversations with adults.  And specifically with adults who were taking my adult education classes.  Again, a group of Jews who are so committed to Judaism that they make Jewish learning a priority in their lives.  Yet they offer to me, “I’m not religious, but…”  and then they proceed to share with me something Jewish that they do.

 

When the Orthodox community suddenly descends upon the Catskills each year on Memorial Day week-end, it is a visual reminder of who we are NOT as Jews.  It has become so much a part of the Jewish psyche in this community, that you may not even be aware how often you apologize for who you are as a Jew.  When you say, “I am not religious, but…you are saying, in effect, that I am not a good enough Jew, that I am ashamed of how I am Jewish and I really should be more “religious.”  There is a subconscious feeling that “They are the REAL Jews.”  Me, well I was born Jewish, but…I’m not religious.”

 

You have known me now for over four years.  You know, that I rarely, if ever have gotten angry or said outright, “You are wrong.”   But today I am angry.  And I am going out on a limb to say, STOP APOLOGIZING.  I don’t want to hear anyone ever say to me again, “I am not religious, but…..” Today, I would like to propose to you, a new definition of what “being religious” means so you won’t have to say any longer, “I am not religious but…” 

 

How would our ancestors define “religious.”   Well, lets look at the Torah.  How many times do you think the word “religious” shows up in the Torah? Guess what?  it doesn’t show up at all.  Neither Abraham, nor Isaac, nor Jacob nor Moses were called “religious” in the Torah.

 

Yes, the Torah, particularly Leviticus, is filled with detailed directions on how to make sacrifices to God.  I suppose you could call these  “religious acts.”

 

The bull shall be slaughtered before Adonai; and Aaron’s sons, the priests, shall offer the blood, dashing the blood against all sides of the altar …The burnt offering shall be flayed and cut up into sections…and Aaron’s sons, the priests, shall lay out the sections, with the head and the suet, on the wood ... Its entrails and legs shall be washed with water, and the priest shall turn the whole into smoke on the altar as a burnt offering, an offering by fire of pleasing odor to God.  (Lev. 1:5-9)

 

What was the point of these Biblical sacrifices?  The Hebrew  word for sacrifice is L’karev, which means to draw close.  The purpose for offering sacrifices to God was to draw one closer to God.  But that wasn’t where it was suppose to stop.  Why should we get closer to God?  So we know what God wants us to do.  God created us for a purpose.  The Torah teaches us what the purpose is.  The Torah is our instruction book for how God wants us to behave.  But in order to be able to know what God expects of us, we have to be open to connecting to God.  In Biblical days, that was through sacrifice.  Today it is through ritual.  BUT…Ritual itself is not the end, it is a means to the end.  It is a way to feel closer to God, so we have the desire to fulfill what God wants us to do.

 

The Torah makes it very clear what God wants of us:

 

And now, O Israel, what does the ETERNAL your God demand of you? Only this: to revere ADONAI your God, to walk only in God’s paths, to love God, and to serve God with all your heart and soul, keeping God’s commandments and laws, which I enjoin upon you today, for your good…For God shows no favor and takes no bribe, but upholds the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and befriends the stranger, providing him with food and clothing.— You too must befriend the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt. (Deut. 10:12-19)

 

It is not the sacrifice itself that is important, but that in performing the sacrifice you are connected to God and reminded of the ethical and moral mitzvot God expects you to carry out.  In fact, in the book of Isaiah, God expresses great disgust at the “religious” sacrifices of the Israelites.

 “What need have I of all your sacrifices?” Says ADONAI. “I am sated with burnt offerings of rams, And suet of fatlings, And blood of bulls; And I have no delight In lambs and he-goats.  That you come to appear before Me— Who asked that of you? Trample My courts no more; Bringing offerings is futile, Incense is offensive to Me. New moon and Sabbath, Proclaiming solemn words, Assemblies with wickedness, I cannot abide. Your celebrations of new moons and holidays Fill Me with loathing; They are become a burden to Me, I cannot endure them.

And when you lift up your hands, I will turn My eyes away from you; Though you pray at length, I will not listen. Your hands are stained with crime— Wash yourselves clean; Put your evil doings away from My sight. Cease to do evil;

Learn to do good. Devote yourselves to justice; Aid the wronged. Uphold the rights of the orphan; Defend the cause of the widow.   (Isaiah 1:11-17)

 

God, himself, is frustrated with our people’s devotion to ritual, while having no regard for their own ethical behavior.  I was once working with a young woman who was studying with me towards conversion.  She was engaged to a secular Jewish man who had been arrested for white collar crimes and was spending time in a jail near here, where some Orthodox Jews are incarcerated. When she went to visit her fiancé, she would see these Orthodox men with their peyous and beards, who were in jail with her fiance. She said she was confused.  As a potential convert she didn’t want to say anything negative about Jews.  But there was something she couldn’t understand.  If these men were so “religious”, why were they in jail?  The most observant Jew, who does all the rituals “religiously,” but takes money from charitable organizations and make promises of investments that only end up lining his own pockets.  Is he really “religious?”  If you wear t’fillin and peyous and are in shul for every shabbos and never turn on a light or drive a car on shabbos, but launder money and sell organs from human bodies, are you really “religious?”

 

It is traditional on Yom Kippur to fast.  And I would imagine that many in the sanctuary tonight are planning to fast.   But what is the reason for fasting? - Our Haftarah reading for tomorrow morning is a conversation between Jews who have fasted but felt they have gotten nothing in return from God.  They question God -

 “Why, when we fasted, did You not see? When we starved our bodies, did You pay no heed?” (Is. 58:3)

 

And God replies,

 

Because on your fast day You see to your business And oppress all your laborers!  Because you fast in strife and contention, And you strike with a wicked fist!... Is such the fast I desire, A day for men to starve their bodies? Is it bowing the head like a bulrush And lying in sackcloth and ashes? Do you call that a fast, A day when God is favorable?

 

No, this is the fast I desire: To unlock fetters of wickedness,To let the oppressed go free; It is to share your bread with the hungry, And to take the wretched poor into your home; When you see the naked, to clothe him, And not to ignore your own kin. (Is. 58:4-7)

 

Ritual for the sake of ritual is not what God wants.  God wants you to be aware of the needs of others and to reach out to them. 

 

Just because you don’t do all the rituals that the Orthodox do are you any less religious?

 

How many of you have reached out to help some one in need?

Who here has donated food and clothing to those who have none?

Who here has volunteered your time to a service organization?

Who has visited someone who was sick?

Who has worked to pass on their morals and ethics to their children?

Who here has been honest in their business dealings?

Who here has been kind to a stranger?

Who here has spoken out when they saw an injustice being done?
Who recycles and works towards cleaning up the environment?

Who has reached out to family members and treated them kindly?

Who has contacted a congressman or senator to support legislation that helps others?

Who here has given tzedakah or helped to raise money for a charity?

 

If you have done some of the things on this list, then I suggest that you are more religious than the New Jersey rabbis arrested over the summer, carted away in hand cuffs, with their black hats and peyous blowing in the wind.

 

There is a distinction between being a good Jew and being a religious Jew.  They overlap but are not necessarily identical.

 

This doesn’t mean that I feel all ritual is useless.  Ritual can be very meaningful.  Early Reform Jews focused solely on “good deed” mitzvot at the expense of the ritual mitzvot. With time, we have realized that many of the Jewish rituals can be quite meaningful and we have brought some of them back.  Rituals can serve to connect us to other Jews.  And they can connect us to God. When we say blessings, it reminds us that God is part of what we do.  And it reminds us what God expects of us.  And Jewish ritual is what ties our ethical and moral deeds to being Jewish.

 

Franz Rosenzweig was an influential German Jewish philospher living in the early 1900’s.  He came from an assimilated Jewish family with little attachment to Judaism or Jewish life. A cousin who had become a Christian urged Rosenzweig to take the same step. Rosenzweig felt that if he was to be converted to Christianity he ought to do so as a Jew, moving, as he saw it at the time, from a lower to a higher form of religion. So he began to learn more about Judaism.

 

While contemplating his conversion, he attended an Orthodox synagogue in Berlin on Yom Kippur. There he was so profoundly overcome by the devotion of the worshippers as they sought forgiveness from the God of their fathers that he realized there was no need for him to find his salvation outside his ancestral faith.   As Rozenzweig learned more and more about Judaism he thought that one day he might become a fully observant Jew, but believed in the gradual approach, taking on rituals slowly so that they made their impact by “ringing a bell” for him. Rosenzweig’s answer to someone who asked him whether he wore tefillin  was “Not yet.”[1]

 

Not yet…..

 

As Jews we should never stop growing intellectually or spiritually.  Are there Jewish rituals that you don’t do now, that you might want to try, that could be meaningful– to help you connect to the Jewish people, to God, and to your sense of “religious obligation” to do good deed mitzvot.  Ritual by itself is empty and meaningless.  It is only when rituals inspire us to do what God has created us to do, that we can be called “religious” Jews.

 

At the beginning of the sermon, I asked you how you would describe a religious Jew to a visitor from another civilization. This is what I would say to him.  You cannot tell who is religious or not, just by looking at them.  Some religious Jews wear black hats and beards, but there are so many more who wear… (Point to the congregation, and describe what people are wearing.)  To determine if someone is a religious Jew you have to look past their outward appearance and find a way to look into their heart.  What is in their heart will tell you if they are truly religious or not.

 

Look into your heart then,  and not at  your clothing or hair, and tell me, are you a “religious” Jew? 

 

So you have been forewarned.  It is not good to get the rabbi angry.  No more apologies.  I don’t EVER want to hear anyone from the Temple Sholom community tell me that the are “not religious.”  And if I do hear you say it I am going to make you wear this hat and this beard.  If that is what you need to say, ”I am a religious Jew.”

---

[1] Myjewishlearning.com

 

What Happens After I Die?

By Rabbi Michele Medwin

Yom K ippur Day 5770

 

 

“Left us”

“Eternal rest”

“Dearly departed”

 “No longer with us”

“Passed away”

 

It is so hard to just say it, to say the word, “dead.”  Because we are afraid - afraid of dying and afraid of our loved ones dying.   And it is our natural instinct is to run away from the things we fear.  But as much as we don’t want to talk about it, the subject of death is hard to avoid in our High Holy Day liturgy.  We have our Yizkor memorial service later on this afternoon, and at each morning service, as we did earlier this morning, we read the Unetaneh Tokef  prayer:

 

B’rosh Hashanah yikateivun u-v’yom kippur yeichateimun

Mi yichiyeh u-mi yamut

 

Let us proclaim the sacred power of this day.

It is awe-inspiring and full of dread.

On Rosh Hashanah it is written

And on Yom Kippur it is sealed,

Who shall live and who shall die.

 

Today, as hard as it may be for some of you, I am asking you to face your fears along with me, and not run from the word death.  No matter what your theology is, you can’t help but be affected by the words of the Unetaneh Tokef  prayer.  It asks us to face our own mortality and reminds us that our loved ones are but lent to us as a gift we should not take for granted. 

 

This has been a particularly difficult year for our congregation.  Each Friday night, before we recite Kaddish, I read the list of names of congregants and family members who have died during the past year.  For such a small congregation, this list has become quite long.  There have been many funerals, and I have stood by many graves alongside many of you, as we have laid loved ones in the ground for their final rest.  As we fulfill the mitzvah of placing soil on the coffin, and the reality of death hits us, we can’t help but wonder, is that all there is?  When a person dies, is that the end of their existence?  What happens AFTER death?

 

This question is one that I have been seeking answers to for over forty years.

When I was eleven years old, I brushed upon death personally for the first time.  A classmate and friend of mine, had been playing stickball with some friends.  A freak accident occurred.  She got hit in the chest with the bat and died instantly.  When my mother heard the news and shared it with me, she offered to go with me to the funeral.  My friend was Roman Catholic.  I remember walking into this huge church having to stretch my neck way back to be able to see the top of the ceiling.  I was feeling uncomfortable in such a foreign place, but thankful that I could be there for my friend.  My mother and I sat near the back. I don’t remember much of the service but I do remember the priest saying how my friend was in a better place.  She was with God.   While his words were meant to comfort, they puzzled me.  Could death be a better place than life?  And what did my religion say in such circumstances? 

 

A few weeks later, I left to spend the summer at a Jewish overnight camp in Great Barrington, Massachusetts.  I sought out different rabbis that were working there to find answers to my questions about death.  None of them were very helpful.  The best they could come up with was, “Jews don’t worry about the afterlife,” or “We are more concerned with how we live our lives here on earth.”  While that made sense if you were looking for a guide to daily living, it certainly was not very comforting to me regarding the loss of my friend.

 

So what does Judaism have to say about our existence AFTER death? In my quest for answers I have learned thatthere is a wealth of ideas and beliefs as part of our Jewish tradition. What I would like to do this morning, is offer you different ways Jewish thinkers through the millennia have approached this question.  We fear death because we fear the unknown. Perhaps sone of these explanations might resonate with you and help to lessen your fears about death, even if  just a little.

 

The Torah does not elaborate much on what happens after death because the main function of the Torah is to provide us with guidelines on how to live our lives each day. There is a reference in Genesis to a place called Sheol where a person goes when he dies, but there is no explanation of what Sheol is like and what happens there.

 

The Torah talks about death by what is apparent to us. The only factual proof we have about what happens when we die comes from observing bodies that have been dead for a while. The Torah makes a logical conclusion based on our observations. It says, “God formed man from the dust of the earth^[1] … Dust you are, and to dust you shall return.”^[2] The Torah cannot perceive of man living beyond death because, after the Garden of Eden incident, only God does that.

 

The first reference to someone living on after death is mentioned in regard to King Saul, who needed to speak to the dead prophet Samuel.  King Saul was fleeing from the Philistines.  When God did not answer his pleas for help he went to visit a woman who could consult with the dead.  He asked her to bring up the spirit of Samuel, so he could get advice from the one who had appointed him king. And the woman said to Saul, ‘I see a divine being coming up from the earth.’ ‘What does he look like?’ Saul asked.  ‘It is an old man coming up,’ she said, ‘and he is wrapped in a robe.’  Then Saul knew that it was Samuel; and he bowed low in homage with his face to the ground.  And what did Samuel’s spirit say to Saul, ‘Why have you disturbed me and brought me up?’^[3]

 

From this story we learn of the belief that you could summon the soul of a departed person, but it was not something one should do often, because they were not happy about being called forth and disturbed from the other world.  Life in that “other world” was pleasant and not a place you wanted to leave once you got there.

 

The concept of a soul that continues to exist beyond our physical death is reflected Eccelsiastes.  It says, “The dust returns to earth as it was, the spirit returns to God, who gave it.”  A funeral reading in the Reform Rabbi’s manual expands on this verse in by adding to it - It is only the house of the spirit which we now lay within the earth; the spirit itself cannot die.^[4]

 

The belief in a soul living on beyond the death of the body became more prominent during the Second Temple period.  Living under Roman rule was very difficult.  Good people were suffering.  The Torah promised the Jews that “If you follow God’s laws and faithfully observe God’s commandments, … God will grant peace in the land, and you shall lie down untroubled by anyone.” Since the Torah was the word of God, and had to be true, the Rabbis of the Talmudic period surmised that perhaps the reward for following God’s commandments didn’t always come in this world, but certainly would come in the World to Come, which they called Olam Haba.  They said, “Even though death appears to be the end in our limited human understanding, there is more to death than we can comprehend.  We, as human beings, see death as a punishment, but instead, one who dies moves on to a more peaceful existence.   The Talmud tells us “The souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, and no torment will ever touch them.  In the eyes of the foolish they seem to be gone, and their departure was thought to be an affliction, and their going from us to be their destruction, but they are at peace.” ^[5]

 

The Rabbis saw the Olam Haba as the ultimate reward for those who lived a righteous life.  They believed that after death the soul joined God and finally got to understand what God was all about.  They said, “In the World to Come our souls will enjoy blissful delight in their attainment of knowledge of the truly essential nature of God…The soul is forever involved with the existence of God the Creator, who is the cause and source of its existence and its eventual goal.”^[6]

 

What The Rabbis couldn’t always agree on, was what the Olam Haba was like.  Many agreed that we could not know or imagine what that world would be like.  “As for the World to Come, No eye has seen them, O God, but You, who act for those who trust in You.”^[7]  Even Moses, the one who knew God better than anyone else, did not learn the answer to this question.  The Midrash tells us,“All Israel assembled by Moses and said to him, ‘Our master, Moses, tell us what goodness the Holy One, Blessed be God, will give us in the world to come.’  He replied to them, ‘I do not know.  What I can tell you, happy are you for what is prepared for you.’”^[8]

 

Some Talmudic Rabbis did attempt to describe how they imagined the Olam Haba to be. Some of your ideas might mesh with what the Rabbis envisioned, but others probably would not.  One rabbi imagined being able to study Torah all day long, every day.  Not your dream? If you were to pick three things from this world that you could still have in the Olam Haba, what would they be? Here is what another rabbi offered.  “Three things: Shabbat, sunshine and sex are central in this world as well as in the world to come.” ^[9] Another description includes lots of food – would you expect differently from Jews? “In the World to Come the Holy One will prepare a banquet for the righteous in the Garden of Eden.”^[10]  My ideal would be if you could eat all that food and not gain weight.

 

Yet, as with all things Jewish, the Rabbis didn’t always agree.  Here is a contrasting view.  “In the world to come there is neither eating nor drinking, no procreation or business transactions, no envy or hatred or rivalry; but the righteous will sit enthroned, their crowns on their heads, enjoying the luster of the Shechinah (the kabbalisitic name for God which is associated with warmth and nurturing).^[11]  What could be more of a reward than to enjoy God’s embracing company for eternity? 

 

The Rabbis also believe that in the Olam Haba you would be reunited with your loved ones who died before you.  “It happened that an old man who resided in Tzipori lost his son. Rabbi Yose ben Chalafta went to pay him a visit; and on seeing him, he sat down and smiled.  The bereaved father asked, ‘Why do you smile?’  He answered, ‘We trust in the God of Heaven that you will again see your son in the World to Come.’” ^[12]

 

Kabbalah, Jewish Mysticism, expands on this idea, saying that your loved ones will come to you upon your death, and bring you to the next stage of your existence personally. “At the hour of a man’s departure from this world, his parents and relatives gather round him, and he sees them and recognizes them, and likewise all with whom he associated in this world, and they accompany his soul to the place where it is to abide.”^[13]

 

Now, you may say that these thousand year old teachings, are just that, old and out-dated theories and beliefs.  But if you have done any reading about modern day “Near Death Experiences,” this may sound quite familiar to you.  People today who have technically died and been brought back to life often report seeing deceased family members calling them to join them.  They also recall feeling quite at peace and being upset when they realized they had to return to their bodies.  And lastly they often report seeing a bright, warm, welcoming light that is different than any light they could describe on earth.  Kabbalah, long before any modern near death experience reports, describes the Holy One as divine light, in just this way.

 

How many of you thought that Judaism didn’t believe in an afterlife and had so much to say about it? The rabbinic concept of the World to Come was played down and de-emphasized over the last thousand years.  Part of it had to do with the rise of Christianity.  Jesus’ resurrection and the concept of Heaven and Hell was so strongly connected to Christianity, that Jews minimized such teachings to differentiate us from them.  And, if we focused too heavily on the next life, we may fail to live our current life to its fullest potential.

 

Also, with the enlightenment of the 17^th and 18^th centuries, more and more people were learning math and science, where they were taught to think logically and to prove facts.  Belief in an improvable afterlife became harder for many modern Jews to grasp.  And so they rejected rabbinic teachings of the afterlife and searched for more modern ways of talking about our “immortality” that didn’t involve supernatural occurrences.  Milton Steinberg, a conservative rabbi who died in 1950, explained it this way. “Man transcends death in many altogether natural ways.  He may be immortal biologically, through his children; in thought, through the survival of his memory; in influence, by virtue of the continuance of his personality as a force among those who come after him.”^[14]

 

We iterate this belief in an often read funeral prayer.

 

In the rising of the sun and in its going down, we remember them…

So long as we live, they too shall live,

for they are now a part of us, as we remember them. 

 

I never knew my Grandma Shirley.  She died at the age of 48, when I was only a month old.  She had a shorter life than most people, but her influence continues to this day.  Grandma Shirley taught my mother many things.  The one that stands out most vividly is this.  “You should always look for the good in people.  Regardless of what they are like, there is good in everyone.”  My mother approaches the world in this same way.  She makes friends with some people that no one else would consider being friends with.  My mother has passed this teaching on to me.  And I try to live my life according to my grandmother’s, and my mother’s teaching.  Hopefully I have passed that on to my children, and they will pass it on to their children, and to their children, …. Thus Grandma Shirley’s life is eternal.

 

Most of you know, that I was an optometrist before I became a rabbi.  My academic training was in science and math.  My scientific mind led me towards explanations of death such as that which Rabbi Steinberg offered.  But my experience as a rabbi has led me down a different path. Despite the rational approach to death that made logical sense, as I stood by the graves of people who did so much good in their lives, I still couldn’t help but wonder, “Is that all there is?”

 

Other modern rabbis also struggle with the contrast between older beliefs and more modern ones.  Rabbi Neil Gillman explains, “I minimize the popular notion that one’s immortality rests in the memories one leaves behind, in the impact of one’s life on friends, family, and community. This is a kind of immortality, and for many it is quite sufficient.  It is not sufficient for me. Judaism provides me with a doctrine of the afterlife that affirms that despite the influence on me of countless others, I remain a total distinct and individualized human being.  It is precisely this individualized existence that is most precious to God and that God will preserve for eternity.” ^[15]

 

When I first arrived at a congregation I was serving, I was told about a member who was dying of pancreatic cancer.  He had already outlived the predictions of his doctors.  He was in his early fifties, had a wonderful wife and two teenaged daughters, the youngest of which was soon to become a Bat Mitzvah.  As much as he tried, he did not make it to be with her on that day.  As I sat with his widow and friends, preparing for the funeral service, I heard such wonderful stories about him.  Everyone in the community loved him. His death left a great void in the lives of so many.  He had started a pain management clinic.  He spent his career helping people deal with chronic pain.  Yet he could no longer be there physically to help his family deal with the intense emotional pain of losing him so soon.  As I stood by his grave, and his coffin was lowered into the ground, it was then that my views of the afterlife began to change.  I couldn’t help thinking: Life just didn’t make sense if this man, who had so much more to offer the world and his family, who had been through so much suffering, suddenly just no longer existed.  There had to be more than this. Why bother going through life if we just end up as part of the soil? Logical explanations of death didn’t help to answer my questions.

 

In an ironic twist, sometimes the most rational understanding of what happens after someone dies, is not based in science or nature, but in the belief that there is something beyond the grave. It just doesn’t make sense that we live our lives and die, and that’s it.  It makes more sense that our life has a purpose that continues on past our death.  That sense of fairness is part of our human makeup.  We are expected to be just in our dealings with others, and so we expect God to be just in God’s dealings with us. Sometimes we need to open our hearts and minds to other ways of looking at situations that go beyond our rational explanations.  Just because we don’t have “proof” of the afterlife, doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist.  The following parable gives us insights into a way of understanding that worlds unknown to us can exist, even if we are not intellectually aware of them.

 

Twin brothers, fetuses in their mother's womb, enjoyed a carefree life. Their world was dark and warm and protected. These twins were alike in all aspects but one. One brother was a 'believer': The second brother, however, was a skeptic.  The months passed, suddenly things began to change – their once warm and comfortable environment was closing in on them. Labor had begun. The fetuses became aware of tremendous contractions and shifting in their little world. The skeptic recognized that “this is it.” His short but pleasant life was about to end. He felt the forces pressuring him to go down, but fought against them. He knew that outside the womb, a cruel death awaited, with no protective sack and no umbilical cord. Suddenly, he realized that his naive brother was giving in to the forces around them. He was sinking lower!

"Don't give up!" he cried, but his brother took no heed. "Where are you, my dear brother?" He shuddered as he heard his brother's screams from outside the womb. His poor brother had met his cruel fate. How naive he had been, with his foolish belief in a bigger, better world!

Then the skeptic felt the uterine muscles pushing him out, against his will, into the abyss. He screamed out in fear...

"Mazal Tov!" called out the doctor. "Two healthy baby boys!"^[16]

 

 

When the rabbis talked about Olam Haba, they talked about it in reference to righteous people.  So what about those who die who weren’t so good? What happens to them?  Do Jews believe in Hell?  The answer is:  Yes, and no. There really is no word in Jewish tradition for Hell, at least not the way Christians envision it, with the devil and eternal damnation and burning infernos.  In the Tanach there are a few references to a place called Gehenna.  This was the place that the pagans sacrificed their children to the god Molech and was considered an evil place.^[17]  This became the term used to describe where not-so-good people went after they died. According to the Rabbis, Gehenna was the place that the souls of evil people went to, to be judged, to repent, to atone for their sins, and to be purified before going to the Olam Haba.  There was no such thing as eternal damnation.  The longest that a soul would stay in Gehenna was twelve months, depending on how bad the soul was and how much purification it required.^[18]  This is where the custom of saying the mourner’s prayer, Kaddish, for one year comes from.  It was believed that saying Kaddish, which praises God, helped the soul to get out of Gehenna sooner, so it could rise up to be with God. 

 

There is a wonderful Midrash that perhaps best describes the Jewish concept of Heaven and Hell.  In both places there is a large banquet hall.  (Food again.) People are sitting on both sides of a very long table filled with all the food you can imagine.  And in both places, people’s arms are splinted at the elbows, so they cannot bend their arms.  In Hell, no one can eat, even though this glorious display of food is before them, because they can’t bend their arms to get the food from their hands into their mouths.  In Heaven, everyone is eating and rejoicing.  That is because each person gathers food in his hands and offers it to their neighbor.  In heaven people work together, helping each other.  In Hell, each person is for himself, and can’t see past his own needs to realize that by helping others, he can help himself.  When you are able to realize that only by helping someone else can you get your needs met, then you can leave Gehenna and go up to the Olam Haba.

 

No one really knows the truth. We do not have access to those who have died, to ask them directly.  We can only read what ideas other Jewish thinkers have brought to us, and then see which of these speak to us personally. They all try to answer the question - How can we make sense, or find meaning in the death of a loved one? Why are we created aware of our own mortality, and how do we live our lives based on this knowledge?  And while there are facts to explain the biological reasons someone dies, there are no factual answers to our spiritual questions of  “Why?”  We know this logically, yet we still search for understanding and meaning. It is my hope and prayer, that these Jewish teachings that I have shared with you today have helped to lessen your fears of death, and to accept death as part of the life that God has given us.