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Click here. Rabbi Karp's Sermons ... EREV ROSH HASHANAH
2003 Tonight, I wish to break from tradition. I know that might sound funny coming from a rabbi on erev Rosh Hashanah, but in any event, that is what I want to do. The tradition I want to break from is the tradition of delivering a formal sermon on this, the first night of our High Holy Day season. I know that this disappoints you greatly, but please try to restrain your tears. Tonight, I want to do something different - at least different for the High Holy Days. I want us to hold a discussion; a dialogue. Now during the course of the year, there are several Shabbat evenings when we forego the formal sermon and engage in dialogue. But we have never done this at the High Holy Days; at the full gathering of the clan, and I think it is about time. I have to tell you, personally I prefer our Shabbat discussion sessions to my sermons, and it is not because they constitute any less preparation on my part, for they don’t. I have to prepare myself - not to speak - but rather to listen and to comment and respond in an informed fashion. And what makes them tougher is that in writing a sermon, I know what I am going to say; I am in control. But in a discussion, the control is in your hands, and I have to follow your lead, even when it takes us down paths of which I am uncertain. No, discussions are no less work for me, but I prefer them anyway. Why? Because as much as I like writing sermons; as much as I like pontificating and hearing the authoritative sound of my own voice, I have always found the sermon format to be seriously lacking; lacking in give-&-take. Sermons are one way communications. They come from me and they go to you. Sometimes you pick something up from them. Sometimes you don’t. And as for me, the only thing that I gain from my sermons are the opportunities for personal reflection and study that their preparation requires of me. But real learning is not a one way affair. It is bi-directional. Real learning comes from interpersonal encounter and dialogue. It comes from people sharing and teaching each other; where the lines between teacher and student become excitingly blurred. Socrates understood this. Plato understood this. And guess what? So did the rabbis. Our greatest text of learning, the Talmud, is all about dialogue and discussion. It is all about individuals sharing with each other their intellectual and emotional struggles over countless topics, both weighty and light. This is what I would like for us to do tonight. For tonight’s topic, I have decided that we should go back to basics. The question is “Why Do We Come Here?” What does being Jewish mean to us? Actually, this is the second time that some of us will be holding this discussion. For tonight’s discussion is based upon a similar discussion that we held in this very sanctuary last December 20th, during a Friday night service. Notice the date - December 20th - another time of year when being Jewish seems to rise in our consciousness. In any event, we held this discussion and it was really quite revealing. And when it was over I could not help but think how neat it would be to hold it again, when the entire congregation was present, and not just our Shabbat regulars. Now to some of you, “What Does Being Jewish Mean To Me?” might sound like a trite or a contrived topic. But it is not. It is an important one for us to explore. It is important for you to explore. It is important for the congregation to explore. For the fact of the matter is - and we all know this - we have been abundantly blessed. We live in such a wonderful country that our lives are comfortable and the fact that we are Jewish has not been something which has brought us to personal harm. Being Jewish is not something which is often, or even rarely, thrown in our faces. As a result of our comfort, we find it very easy to take being Jewish for granted. However, when we take something for granted, we tend to lose our focus on its meaning. We know we are Jews, but we are not always quite sure what that means to us - not because we are uninformed but rather because we do not give it much thought. Yet here we are, coming together as Jews for this Jewish moment. But how can we derive much benefit from experiencing such a Jewish moment unless we have some sort of clear understanding of what Jewish moments mean for us; what they have to offer us; what that Jewish part of us is that receives nurture and suckle from such moments; what we are looking for, what we are expecting to derive, from these moments? It is hard. At best, it is hard. The bottom line is that Judaism cannot effectively offer us much benefit unless we have a handle on what it means for us personally to be a Jew and what benefit we seek from it. And as a congregation, this dialogue is vitally important to us. This synagogue - every synagogue - is in the business of promoting Jewish life. It is in the business of enhancing the Jewish lives of its membership. But guess what? We can’t do our job if we do not know where you are at, Jewishly. The members of our board, the members of our various committees, the Cantor, myself, we are all like blind men and women groping in the dark, reaching out, striking out, trying to find our way into your Jewish hearts, stumbling for the paths to your Jewish souls. In order for us to be able to work on enhancing your Jewish lives, we need to know what Jewish living means to you. We have to start our labors from where you are at, and hopefully, if we are successful, bring you meaningfully further along the path. Trust me. Synagogue life is better when it is less of a guessing game. So now, I turn the floor over to you. You have come here, as Jews, in observance of Rosh Hashanah. But what does that mean to you? Why come? What is it about Judaism that touches you enough to give up this Friday night to be here in this sanctuary? One more thing. It has been our experience that such discussion can run either very short - if no one has something to say- and that makes for an earlier evening - or they can run very long - which has its own great benefits but also significant drawbacks. To that end, I have requested that our President, Craig Mekow, serve as our timekeeper. I have asked him to start the clock at the beginning of these remarks and to stop it 25 minutes later (which is short for a Rosh Hashanah sermon). If, at that time, you really want to continue the dialogue, we will add another 5 minutes. Now who is going to be first? |