Post by Rabbi Neil on Aug 4, 2023 15:58:02 GMT
What is the role of a religious leader? Even within the Jewish tradition, we have had a number of different examples of leadership. Perhaps the first kind of Jewish leadership is that of Abraham, a complex character indeed. Abraham goes to war when his family are in danger, he argues with God in order to save the righteous in Sodom and Gomorrah, he runs out of his tent to greet guests even though he is in great pain and, perhaps most memorably, he takes his son up a mountain to sacrifice him because God tells him to. Not exactly the role-model father, after all, he also sends away his other son Ishmael into the desert, Abraham’s leadership of the early inklings of Israelite people is one of strength and compassion.
Of course, it is really Moses where Jewish leadership becomes most apparent, because it is under his leadership that the Jewish people leaves Egypt and spends many years forming their own group identity. They are not an easy bunch of people. They complain, they actually want to go back to a worse place, but Moses speaks in absolutes – this way is right, that way is wrong. He lays down the law because he has direct communication with God, and the assumption is that God only wants one path of behaviour. When the people go astray, Moses is the first to rebuke them, and then remind them and remind them of what they did. This week’s sidrah is a perfect example of this. There’s a small image in my mind of the people gathered around Moses and one person at the back asking what he’s saying, and another saying “You remember when we misbehaved and complained? He’s reminding us of that.” The first person shakes their head in frustration at Moses, and then leaves.
And I imagine this is because the model of Jewish leadership has changed from this. Of course, it’s worth bearing in mind the priesthood was a model of leadership in which the people had virtually no participation or comment. With Moses the people could at least complain, but with the priests the people were just observers.
The concept of the Rabbi also underwent significant change over the years. When first realised, a Rabbi was someone who was purely a teacher, particularly interpretation of Scripture. The Rabbis also helped make sense of a disturbing world of social and economic unpredictability. As Jewish communities scattered around the world, Rabbis became arbiters of tradition and the world in which the Jewish communities found themselves. They started writing response to questions that had been sent from other countries.
And now, what is a Rabbi? Well, I’ve now been a Rabbi at this community for nine years, and I’m still struggling to answer this properly. There are some similarities, and some differences, to previous examples of Jewish leadership.
For example, a modern-day Rabbi is still expected to be knowledgeable about Judaism so that they can answer questions on any Jewish topic. If they don’t know the answer, then the assumption is that they have a reliable enough library so that they can find out. But even that has changed somewhat since the Information Revolution has meant that more and more information can be beamed directly into people’s homes. More and more people ask, “Why bother asking the Rabbi when I can just go online to find the answer?”
Interestingly, in earlier times, Rabbinic spirituality was largely about performing mitzvot, since Chassidism breathed life into Jewish spirituality, Rabbinics has included much in the way of spiritual discourse. Today, this is needed more than ever, with modern, secular life being entirely antithetical to anything but the tritest expressions of spirituality. In fact, even more challenging to the Rabbinic endeavour is that so often people want their religion in simplified forms that fit in with their lives – Judaism for Dummies, Kabbalah with Yehudah Berg and Madonna, or rituals that are quickly performed without caring what they mean (like the couple that called on a Friday wanting a chuppah on Sunday using an Orthodox Ketubah because they didn’t care what the words on the Ketubah meant).
Organized religion, including Judaism, faces some very serious challenges today, and the Rabbi needs to make people aware of that. But how? Should the Rabbi stand on the Bimah and act like a Priest – fulfilling mitzvot so that other people observe and participate by reciting similar words at the same time? I guess in part the answer is yes. But in some sense the role of the ancient Priest actually developed into the role of the Cantor.
So, should the Rabbi be teaching Judaism, even when the findings are uncomfortable to the community of learners? Yes, definitely. This perhaps today is one of the most important roles, considering the ever-increasing void of Jewish knowledge. Should a Rabbi stand in front of a community and lambaste its members like Moses? Probably not, although there is clearly a time when a Rabbi needs to fight like Abraham for what he or she believes is the absolute right thing to do. Nowadays, though, there is much more to consider. The Rabbi (just like the Cantor) is also seen as a pastoral presence, helping those in pain through difficult times. And the Rabbi is also an ambassador of Judaism to external communities.
After 19 years in the Rabbinate, I have come to believe that a Rabbi is partially like a mirror, a means to help people reflect on themselves – their spirituality, their relationship to others, to the world, and to Judaism. But a Rabbi cannot just be a reflection because otherwise they stand for nothing other than what is in front of them. Tomorrow morning, Dom will reflect rather wonderfully on why Moses’ retelling of the people’s journey is different in Deuteronomy to what actually happened, and part of the reason, I would suggest, is that a leader cannot be simply a mirror, they have to stand for something. This summer, as temperature records are broken all across the world, as democracy risks crumbling both here and abroad, as civil rights are stripped from individuals around the globe, as corporations consolidate their power by removing it from the masses, I do wonder if especially now a Rabbi needs to be a proactive voice pushing the people, just as Moses had to fight the people to push them toward Canaan. “Mah Adonai elohecha sho’el mei’imach, what does the Eternal your God ask of you?” asks this week’s Torah portion. There has to be some form of ask, some assumption of action and I think the reflection from the Rabbi also has to be accompanied by a question – “Nu? What now?”
I actually love the fact that this question is asked just before the start of the month of Elul, the period of introspection before the High Holy Days. What does the Eternal your God ask of you? Demand of you? The sidrah of Ekev suggests an answer – “only that you fear the Eternal your God, and live in a way that pleases God, and love God and serve God with all your heart and soul.” But what does that mean for each person? Perhaps there is where the reflection is most helpful.
So, with my now nineteen years of the Rabbinate and Dom’s exploration tomorrow of Moses’ leadership, we are faced with what it means to fear God, to love God, and to serve God with all our heart and soul, and what it means to lead in the presence of God. One sizeable difference between Moses’ leadership and that of modern Rabbis – other than the fact that God doesn’t talk directly to Me (as far as I know, anyway!) – is dialogue. Moses excoriates and the people complain. Their model of dialogue is not a healthy one. Ours is framed differently, we learn and grow from each other, all of us bringing our differing expertise into the journey of our community and the Jewish people. I would say that today’s dialogue is far more complicated and far richer than that of Moses and the Israelites.
So, let us celebrate our dialogue of continual mutual growth and of sustenance. May my Rabbinate continue to be our Rabbinate, may my growth be our growth. May we seek together what it is that God asks of us. May we reflect the strengths of each other. May we ask of each other only what is possible, but let us fully ask of each other everything that is possible. And let us all plan for the future of our community together, and let us say, Amen.
Of course, it is really Moses where Jewish leadership becomes most apparent, because it is under his leadership that the Jewish people leaves Egypt and spends many years forming their own group identity. They are not an easy bunch of people. They complain, they actually want to go back to a worse place, but Moses speaks in absolutes – this way is right, that way is wrong. He lays down the law because he has direct communication with God, and the assumption is that God only wants one path of behaviour. When the people go astray, Moses is the first to rebuke them, and then remind them and remind them of what they did. This week’s sidrah is a perfect example of this. There’s a small image in my mind of the people gathered around Moses and one person at the back asking what he’s saying, and another saying “You remember when we misbehaved and complained? He’s reminding us of that.” The first person shakes their head in frustration at Moses, and then leaves.
And I imagine this is because the model of Jewish leadership has changed from this. Of course, it’s worth bearing in mind the priesthood was a model of leadership in which the people had virtually no participation or comment. With Moses the people could at least complain, but with the priests the people were just observers.
The concept of the Rabbi also underwent significant change over the years. When first realised, a Rabbi was someone who was purely a teacher, particularly interpretation of Scripture. The Rabbis also helped make sense of a disturbing world of social and economic unpredictability. As Jewish communities scattered around the world, Rabbis became arbiters of tradition and the world in which the Jewish communities found themselves. They started writing response to questions that had been sent from other countries.
And now, what is a Rabbi? Well, I’ve now been a Rabbi at this community for nine years, and I’m still struggling to answer this properly. There are some similarities, and some differences, to previous examples of Jewish leadership.
For example, a modern-day Rabbi is still expected to be knowledgeable about Judaism so that they can answer questions on any Jewish topic. If they don’t know the answer, then the assumption is that they have a reliable enough library so that they can find out. But even that has changed somewhat since the Information Revolution has meant that more and more information can be beamed directly into people’s homes. More and more people ask, “Why bother asking the Rabbi when I can just go online to find the answer?”
Interestingly, in earlier times, Rabbinic spirituality was largely about performing mitzvot, since Chassidism breathed life into Jewish spirituality, Rabbinics has included much in the way of spiritual discourse. Today, this is needed more than ever, with modern, secular life being entirely antithetical to anything but the tritest expressions of spirituality. In fact, even more challenging to the Rabbinic endeavour is that so often people want their religion in simplified forms that fit in with their lives – Judaism for Dummies, Kabbalah with Yehudah Berg and Madonna, or rituals that are quickly performed without caring what they mean (like the couple that called on a Friday wanting a chuppah on Sunday using an Orthodox Ketubah because they didn’t care what the words on the Ketubah meant).
Organized religion, including Judaism, faces some very serious challenges today, and the Rabbi needs to make people aware of that. But how? Should the Rabbi stand on the Bimah and act like a Priest – fulfilling mitzvot so that other people observe and participate by reciting similar words at the same time? I guess in part the answer is yes. But in some sense the role of the ancient Priest actually developed into the role of the Cantor.
So, should the Rabbi be teaching Judaism, even when the findings are uncomfortable to the community of learners? Yes, definitely. This perhaps today is one of the most important roles, considering the ever-increasing void of Jewish knowledge. Should a Rabbi stand in front of a community and lambaste its members like Moses? Probably not, although there is clearly a time when a Rabbi needs to fight like Abraham for what he or she believes is the absolute right thing to do. Nowadays, though, there is much more to consider. The Rabbi (just like the Cantor) is also seen as a pastoral presence, helping those in pain through difficult times. And the Rabbi is also an ambassador of Judaism to external communities.
After 19 years in the Rabbinate, I have come to believe that a Rabbi is partially like a mirror, a means to help people reflect on themselves – their spirituality, their relationship to others, to the world, and to Judaism. But a Rabbi cannot just be a reflection because otherwise they stand for nothing other than what is in front of them. Tomorrow morning, Dom will reflect rather wonderfully on why Moses’ retelling of the people’s journey is different in Deuteronomy to what actually happened, and part of the reason, I would suggest, is that a leader cannot be simply a mirror, they have to stand for something. This summer, as temperature records are broken all across the world, as democracy risks crumbling both here and abroad, as civil rights are stripped from individuals around the globe, as corporations consolidate their power by removing it from the masses, I do wonder if especially now a Rabbi needs to be a proactive voice pushing the people, just as Moses had to fight the people to push them toward Canaan. “Mah Adonai elohecha sho’el mei’imach, what does the Eternal your God ask of you?” asks this week’s Torah portion. There has to be some form of ask, some assumption of action and I think the reflection from the Rabbi also has to be accompanied by a question – “Nu? What now?”
I actually love the fact that this question is asked just before the start of the month of Elul, the period of introspection before the High Holy Days. What does the Eternal your God ask of you? Demand of you? The sidrah of Ekev suggests an answer – “only that you fear the Eternal your God, and live in a way that pleases God, and love God and serve God with all your heart and soul.” But what does that mean for each person? Perhaps there is where the reflection is most helpful.
So, with my now nineteen years of the Rabbinate and Dom’s exploration tomorrow of Moses’ leadership, we are faced with what it means to fear God, to love God, and to serve God with all our heart and soul, and what it means to lead in the presence of God. One sizeable difference between Moses’ leadership and that of modern Rabbis – other than the fact that God doesn’t talk directly to Me (as far as I know, anyway!) – is dialogue. Moses excoriates and the people complain. Their model of dialogue is not a healthy one. Ours is framed differently, we learn and grow from each other, all of us bringing our differing expertise into the journey of our community and the Jewish people. I would say that today’s dialogue is far more complicated and far richer than that of Moses and the Israelites.
So, let us celebrate our dialogue of continual mutual growth and of sustenance. May my Rabbinate continue to be our Rabbinate, may my growth be our growth. May we seek together what it is that God asks of us. May we reflect the strengths of each other. May we ask of each other only what is possible, but let us fully ask of each other everything that is possible. And let us all plan for the future of our community together, and let us say, Amen.