“A New Zionsim”: Think Globally, Thrive Locally

 

As the missiles and rockets were dropping this summer throughout the north of Israel, I felt compelled to address this crisis here with our congregation.  After all, the worldwide Jewish community was swept into a collective concern for the State of Israel and its future.  Now, over a month since the major fighting has stopped, what’s left for me to say?  Besides ongoing words of prayer, support, and encouragement, expressions of sadness, hope, and detached analysis, what can I say to this congregation on this Rosh HaShanah that can resonate in a meaningful way?  What I would like to do is to focus on some aspects of Zionism that I believe are not only relevant to current events but even more so to Jewish life here in our own neighborhood, on the other side of the world from the heart of our people’s historical and spiritual roots.  What do we do from here to combat the feelings of helplessness as we watch from afar?  How can we make a real impact on the survival and flourishing of the Jewish State?

 

These questions led me, through the back door, to another sermon I wanted to give—and it didn’t take long before I realized that the two topics were in fact one, unified by a creative understanding of Zionism.  This talk about Zionism will be unconventional in a few ways: First, because I will not address the current politics or even the modern political history of the Jewish State; next, because I will avoid what many people associate with a classical Zionist perspective—the dismissal of hope for any future in the Diaspora, the urging of everyone to make aliyah, the insistence that active support for Israel must always trump any other activity or cause within our own Jewish community; and finally—and this is closely related to my second point—this talk will be different because what I really want to focus on—my “other” sermon idea—is us and the wonderful things we are accomplishing here at Temple Ami Shalom. 

 

In terms of veering from “classical Zionism,” it is worth sharing the words of Professor Arnold Eisen, the incoming Chancellor of the Conservative Movement’s Jewish Theological Seminary (JTS) in New York, and Professor Michael Rosenak.  Eisen and Rosenak, in citing a 1955 book, A New Zionism, by Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan, the founder of the Reconstructionist Movemement, describe what they say “should perhaps be called the credo of American Zionism, namely that the Jewish State exists in order to help the Jewish people become”—and here they quote Kaplan—‘a fit instrument of this-worldly salvation for every Jew, wherever he resides.’”  This perspective encompasses the views of Cultural Zionism, which emphasized using the Land of Israel as the global center for revitalizing Judaism—through Hebrew language, Jewish ideas, ethics, spiritual life, the arts, and other aspects of Jewish culture.  Originally, this still meant that the most authentic expression of Jewish culture would be that which flourished inside the Land of Israel.  For Solomon Schechter, one of the founders of Conservative Judaism in America, the flourishing center would enable Jews to live full religious lives throughout the Diaspora.  Kaplan’s view—shared by other great American Jews such as Louis Brandeis—goes even further, emphasizing the fundamental importance of strong Diaspora communities in dialogue and ongoing mutual support with the Jewish communities of Israel.  A symbiotic relationship is the model at work here, with the Land of Israel and the Diaspora serving as the 2 entities.  Kaplan’s original logo for his vision of a reconstructed approach to Judaism actually consisted of a wheel, in which Israel was the hub, and the Diaspora communities branched out as the spokes.  Israel is thus a unifying force—a dynamic and primary means—helping to meet the ends of a revived Judaism. 

 

Now, as a Zionist, I do believe that there is nothing better for affecting one’s emotional or spiritual attitude towards Israel than an actual visit to the land itself.  One of my dreams for the not-so-distant future for Ami Shalom—and I know the board shares this wish—is to organize a mission to Israel so that some, if not many, of us can have this life-changing experience.  I know that we won’t all be able to go, and none of us can be there right now, but there’s a wonderful idea I remember learning in Jerusalem from my teacher Rabbi Arieh Strikovsky.  We were reading some beautiful Talmudic passages that emphasize the importance of synagogue life, and Arieh offered this very lovely vision.  He said that whenever we in the Diaspora walk into a synagogue, it is as if we have stepped into an embassy of Eretz Yisrael, an extension of Israeli soil itself.  To put it more vividly, the synagogue serves as a portal that transports us instantaneously back to the place where it all began, where our people first experienced that sense of comfort, unity, closeness with God.  So, as we are gathered here tonight on Rosh HaShanah in our synagogue, we have also stepped into Tziyon, into the big tent of Zionism that has Jerusalem and the Land of Israel at its center but that stretches out to include all of us as well.

 

This leads me directly into my “other” sermon about the thriving of our congregation and to the connection back to Zionism:  I believe that when we strengthen our own Jewish community, we participate in the larger Zionist goal—of strengthening world Jewry and our ever-evolving Jewish civilization in all its manifestations.  I believe we should talk explicitly about our relationship to the land and the society that exists there, but even when we focus more provincially, we are advancing the general Zionist cause.  One way to phrase this would be to adapt the common slogan, “Think globally. / Act locally.”  “Think about global Jewish excellence—see yourself as part of something greater in terms of the Jewish people. / Help bring that excellence about by making your local Jewish community thrive.”  “Think Globally, Thrive Locally.”  Yes, support Israel.  But—and I believe this is what Kaplan was getting at—just as we don’t want to ignore Israel and focus only on our own issues, so too, if we abandon our efforts at local success—for a dynamic synagogue that provides meaningful and memorable Jewish experiences for all ages; that helps advance Jewish spirituality, education, and acts of kindness; that provides to all those seeking it the wisdom, comfort, stimulation, and feeling of belonging that are the hallmarks of our heritage—if we abandon our efforts at this kind of excellence here, then any vocal or passionate support for Israel is empty.  And when we do engage in these efforts with passionate conviction, then we are living out our Zionism; we are fulfilling the same goal towards which support of Israel is directed; we are responding to our concerns for Jewish survival—in the Land of Israel or anywhere; we are launching rockets of creative, transformative Jewish action into the social, cultural, and spiritual atmosphere—one of the most productive and lasting responses to Hamas or Hezbollah.  We are building our own little mini-Zion right here.

 

There’s an exciting linguistic bridge between these two ideas—Zionism and our local success.  It comes from the actual word “Tziyon,” Hebrew for Zion.  Although biblically, Tzion first appears in the Book of Samuel as a fortress of the Jebusites, captured by David and renamed the City of David, the word suggests “designated spot,” or “marked place”—something a fortress certainly would be.  The root letters—Tzaddi-Yud-Nun—are related to the word Tzeenah, a large shield.  A fortress is a shield that people inhabit, and would almost always be elevated—on a hill or mountain—to provide the best protection for its inhabitants.  Although I haven’t found any direct historical link, we can easily see a connection between the Shield of David, the magen david or Jewish star, as symbolic of Zion.  The Israeli flag certainly celebrates this connection.

 

The more accurate root meaning of Tzaddi-Yud-Nun (the root letters of Tziyon) is “to mark.”  L’tzayen is to mark or grade someone’s work or performance.  A tziyun is the score or grade one receives.  M’tzuyan means excellent—marked with distinction or greatness, standing out above the rest—as if high up on a hill, easily noticeable but not so easy to reach or conquer.  Basically the best tziyun (grade) to hope for.  Tziyon, then, Zion, is a sign or mark of greatness, of excellent achievement.  A symbol.  A logo.  A specific place, but more than that as well.  The story of Tziyon goes so much deeper than that Jebusite fortress.  It became the place designated by God where the Divine Presence would dwell—the chosen or marked location that would serve as the center for all Jewish life—ritual, spiritual, political, and social.  It stood for a profound encounter with holiness, the unifying of our people, and even as a microcosm of the entire world.  Midrash, Rabbinic legend, celebrates this chosen spot as an alternate paradise or Eden, specifically as the literal center of the earth, the very point from which the rest of the world grew.  It was like God’s seed—holding, in its nucleus, all the genetic information for everything that would follow.  This branching out from a shared center, like Kaplan’s hub of a wheel, is seen throughout the Bible, where Tziyon is used as a symbolic word for a series of concentric circles of holiness.  Depending on the context, Tziyon was the Holy of Holies—the location for concentrated, tangible holiness inside the Temple; it was the Temple, radiating a creative and transforming energy atop its mountain; it was the entire Temple Mount, an impenetrable source of safety and security, available to all those who earn distinction, who—according to Jeremiah—thoroughly amend their ways, who thoroughly do justice between a person and his neighbor; it was Jerusalem, the Holy City; eventually, especially after the various exiles our people, it was the entire “Promised” Land of Israel, the Holy Land.  Zion even became a short-hand for the People of Israel, all the Jewish People.  Into modern times, whether through the visual of the shield or just through the name itself, our people has used the shorthand Tziyon to encapsulate our story, our hopes, our values, our enduring strength, and our unity.  Zion is our logo:  In one word, we affirm that we are a distinctive or distinguished people that has maintained a deep connection to a distinguished locale, where distinct religious experiences occurred and divine encounters were believed to have taken place.  This is our legacy as Tziyon.

 

M’tzuyan, excellent, is the grade we strive for here at Ami Shalom. … I first started playing in my head with these linguistic connections after I began reflecting on my wish—and the current fulfillment of it—to “get us on the map.”  We are making a name for ourselves.  We are highlighting what we do here to both our Jewish and non-Jewish neighbors so that everyone in the San Gabriel Valley will take note of us—recognize us as a place of serious and relevant learning, meaningful celebration, exciting community-building and partnership, and redemptive kindness.  I want us and our setting—this hill on which our campus sits—to be marked as a place of Torah, a place of holiness.  And this is happening.  Here, in our mini-Zion, we our fulfilling the words of the prophet Isaiah, “Ki mi’tziyon teitzei Torah”—“Out of Zion, Torah shall go forth.  So, I wish to celebrate tonight some of the Torah that is going forth from this Zion, our little embassy of the Land of Israel.

 

In addition to our long-standing, well-attended Saturday morning service, we now also have an exciting Friday night lineup that draws many new participants into our worship community.  First Fridays fill members’ homes for an evening of song-filled prayer, a delicious pot-luck dinner, and exciting Torah study.  On the second weekend of each month, we have “Shabbat for All,” starting with an evening service that features either a guest speaker or prayer-leading by Atid or religious school students; followed by Saturday morning options of our usual sanctuary service, a short children’s service for ages 2 and up, or “Davening 101,” a wonderful opportunity to walk through pieces of the service while learning the liturgy—its meaning and its performance—while asking questions and gaining greater comfort with the prayers and their structure.  This Shabbat morning culminates with all groups coming together for our kiddush lunch and participating in Nosh & D’rash, creative, interactive text-study during the meal.  We also have a core group of learners that gathers on other Saturday afternoons, following lunch, to read provocative essays on a variety of fascinating topics—engendering some wonderfully enlightening discussions.  Third Fridays provide two services, both with guitar accompaniment—first, an upbeat family service, and then “musical ma’ariv,” a relaxing and soulful way to refresh ourselves after a long week.  We also have “Friday Night 101” services, where we walk through the Friday night service with a focus on learning—and growing with—the material.  We have other adult education offerings, such as a crash-course introduction to reading Hebrew and, starting next month, an intensive Introduction to Judaism course that already has close to 20 enrolled students and that will serve as the means for bringing us several new dynamic and devoted members by preparing them for conversion.

 

Ami Shalom is increasingly becoming the site for many exciting community-wide events.  Recently, we have hosted the Federation’s end-of-summer picnic and concert, featuring Doug Cotler, right here in this sanctuary; and just this past Saturday night we filled this space again as we were entertained by Bernie Dean’s one-man rendition of “The Rothschilds,” followed by a spiritually evocative S’lichot service.  Next month, we will be hosting a community-wide event for the LA County Department of Child and Family Services that seeks to promote participation by members of the wide variety of religious groups in the much needed area of foster care and adoption.  Participating in this cause, for me, strikes an especially relevant cord, since it focuses on our concern for children, one of the vulnerable segments of society who also represent our future—for Judaism, and for society at large.  In fact, our involvement in this issue will serve as the basis for my talk on Sunday morning, when I will look at the Rosh HaShanah Torah readings and emphasize God’s concern for children and the questions that arise about what we do for our next generation.  I hope you’ll join us on Sunday to gain greater inspiration about the Jewish take on foster care, adoption, and care for our children in general.  And come back here again on Tuesday night, October 17, when the county will make its push for getting more people involved in their efforts that deal with these critical issues.  What an honor it is to be the site from which the community learns about these important problems and the ways we can all be part of the solution.  This truly is Torah going forth from our little Zion.  In November, we will host an evening of the Federation’s Jewish Book Festival, turning the spotlight to Rabbi Avner Weiss, a distinguished—excellent—scholar, who bridges the worlds of Jewish mysticism and modern psychotherapy.  This should be another amazing opportunity for Ami Shalom to say that through the programs that take place on this site, we enhance the relationship between an embrace of classical Jewish ideas, sources, and practices on the one hand, with—on the other hand—a meaningful and relevant engagement with the real-life concerns of our time, with the overarching goal of healing, of personal wellbeing and flourishing.  And as we celebrate that relationship as a community, we also flourish as a community.

 

Our emphasis on children can be seen in the thriving of our religious school, which has multiplied by nearly 4 times from last year.  We are growing.  We are excited to have welcomed several new families to our congregation in recent weeks and with the active and conscious publicity we are doing, we plan to attract even more.

 

How do we encapsulate this Torah that is vigorously going forth from our mini-Zion?  In our newest efforts at spreading the word about what we’re up to here, we have introduced a new logo of our own—a unique rendering of old symbols that highlight, quite literally, the light we emanate, the Torah we have to offer. 

 

In each morning’s service, at the end of the yotzer prayer, before the Sh’ma, we express the wish that God “shine a new light on Zion, and may we all speedily merit its light.”  May that light shine upon the original Zion of our history, and also upon the new Zion we create here as our contribution to a world-wide Jewish renaissance.