Call to Worship
This morning is the first in our new sermon series which Michael and I have dubbed: “The Challenge of Religious Pluralism – The Big Answers.”
We’ve selected 8 major religions for study – Judaism, Islam, Native Religions, Christianity, Hinduism, Buddhism, Taoism, and concluding with Unitarian Universalism. One each month.
Each religion has given the world “Big Answers” to the ultimate “Big Questions” of life. -- Last year, in our first sermon series, we tackled the Big Questions. The only answer we, UUs came up with, ultimately, is – “To question is the answer.” But, other religions provide their flock with some wonderfully woven answers to give life meaning and purpose. Michael and I, in our sermons, will look at some of those Big Answers and suggest how these concepts may have meaning for Unitarian Universalists.
Each month, members will meet in their Covenant Groups and ponder the material offered about the different religions, and try to make some personal sense of it for their own lives. If you’re not in a Covenant Group, we encourage you to consider it seriously. There are sign-up sheets in the Fellowship Hall today.
Also, we’ve planned a series of speakers on some of the religions included in the series. You’ve got an insert in your Order of Service today that tells you all about that.
So, now, let us launch into the Big Answers and see what a treasure trove they might be for us liberal, free thinking, rational, independent rebels. See? We told you it was going to be a challenge!
I now Call us to Worship with these words:
Here in the space between us and the world
lies human meaning.
Into the vast uncertainty we call.
The echoes make our music,
sharp equations which can hold the stars,
and marvelous mythologies we trust.
This may be all we need
so llift our love against indifference and pain.
Here in the space between us and each other
lies the future
of the fragment of the universe
which is our own.-Raymond J. Baughan
Meditation
Deep in ourselves resides the religious impulse. Out of the passions of our clay it rises. We have religion when we stop deluding ourselves that we are self-sufficient, self-sustaining, or self-derived. We have religion when we hold some hope beyond the present, some self-respect beyond our failures. We have religion when our hearts are capable of leaping up at beauty, when our nerves are edged by some dream in the heart. We have religion when we have an abiding gratitude for all that we have received. We have religion when we look upon people with all their failings and still find in them good; when we look beyond people to the grandeur in nature and to the purpose in our own heart. We have religion when we have done all that we can, and then in confidence entrust ourselves to the life that is larger than our own.
-Ralph N. Helverson (#654 in UU Hymnal)
“This I Believe…”
Personal Statements by Gerry Stevens-Kittner and Abe Gelbein
Gerry:
I’m Gerry Stevens-Kittner. I’m a Member of the church, and I’m a new member of the Board of Trustees this year.
By conventional standards, I haven’t been a “practicing Jew” for over 25 years. I rarely attend synagogue, I don’t observe the Jewish dietary laws, and I go to work on even the most holy of Jewish holidays. By all the usual measures, and certainly according to my parents, I am a lost member of the tribe.
Yet, in so many ways, both small and large, I am Jewish through and through. I thought I made a choice three decades ago not to be Jewish anymore, but, in retrospect, that choice was not entirely available to me.
I was raised in a warm and loving Orthodox Jewish home in Queens, New York. by parents who were born in America but raised by Polish/Russian immigrants. Indeed my mother’s mother, who spoke Yiddish and very little English, lived with us throughout my childhood. We attended a small and ancient Temple where it seemed to me the average age of the men was at least 90. Women attended but they didn’t count towards the minimum of ten people you needed to make a minyan, to validate the service, and they sat in a separate section of the Temple, with a low wall dividing the men from the women. Women were never allowed up on the dais.
The men who surrounded me each Friday evening, and Saturday and Sunday mornings had white bushy beards and unkempt hair, their suits were dark, ill fitting and had a stale smell. They prayed in stooped-over stances, rocking back and forth as they mumbled rapidly and inaudibly. They could race through a dozen pages of Hebrew in what seemed like a minute, leading me to wonder whether they were really reading the words or pretending.
To me, they were the embodiment of wisdom, solemnity and righteousness. I wanted to be wise, solemn, and righteous as well. But I was a kid, and my knees knocked relentlessly as I sat through hours upon hours of the most tedious Hebrew prayers in the stuffy, un-air-conditioned sanctuary. The part I liked the most about synagogue was the singing. And my favorite part of all was when the Torah was returned to the ark and the whole congregation got to sing this very beautiful, melancholy, prayerful homage to god’s grace and wisdom as embodied in the ancient scrolls of the Torah. On the rare occasions that I get to sing that melody, I still get choked up.
As I got older, I was increasingly discomfited by the pridefulness and insularity of Jews. The notion that we were the chosen people never rang true for me. The persecution complex that my mother and father still wear as a badge of honor seems paranoid and self-defeating. Whenever my parents and many other Jews I know speak of goys and shiksas, i.e., non-Jews, it’s always with a sense of superiority. Intermarriage is treated with the utmost hostility. There is an undeniable strain of racism that fortifies the Jewish people.
Today, I proudly identify myself as a Unitarian Universalist, and I dearly love this church, its members and our values. But I am undeniably Jewish. I know what bialys are, and I know lox as lox, not as smoked salmon. A disproportionate number of my friends are Jewish, and I have an unmistakable comfort level with them. My conversation is sprinkled with Yiddish words, like when I complement someone by calling him or her a “mensch,” (a person of common sense and good nature), or when I describe a situation as “fakokta,” (really screwed up), or when I describe an arduous trip as a real “schlep.” When Shawn Green hits a home run for the Dodgers, or when the Israeli tennis player, aptly named Elena Smashnova, wins a tournament as she did last week, I feel prideful. When another terrorist bomb kills Israelis, I silently weep, and when the Israelis retaliate in ways that anger the world, I recoil and hope that Sharon has not gone too far. I experienced almost a dizzying sense of identification as I moved through the Holocaust museum that I had to periodically duck into restrooms to compose myself.
Judaism has been the basis for both a painful alienation from my parents, and a wonderfully rich foundation for my life. This church and this community has allowed me to embrace the nobility and beauty of my Jewish heritage while affirming and enhancing my personal beliefs in the inherent worth and dignity of all Humankind. And, although I cringe every time I say that I’m going to “church,” now I get choked up whenever we rise together and sing “Spirit of Life.”
Abe:
I’m Abe Gelbein – a UU since 1966 and a member of UUCA since 1991. I was born in Brooklyn, NY in 1934. My mother was American and my father a Russian immigrant. I was number five of a still growing orthodox Jewish family. Two more sons followed for a total of seven boys and one girl. Home life was meager and chaotic during the depression years and the war years. Mom kept a kosher home. She lit candles for the Sabbath and my father occasionally attended synagogue on Saturday. He seemed to be working most of the time. But we always observed the High Holy Days and I looked forward to them especially when they landed on school days and we were allowed to stay home from school.
At age eight I auditioned and was hired as a boy alto in a professional Jewish choir. Sang with the choir for four years until my voice began to change. Sang at many weddings, High Holy Day services, and in one Jewish theater production. Pay was 50 cents a wedding and several dollars for the Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur services.
According to Jewish tradition, at age 13 you transition from child to responsible man. The transition ceremony is called a Bar Mitzvah that’s celebrated as part of a particular Sabbath service depending on your birth date. The candidate reads selected passages directly from the torah scroll in a stylized sing-song fashion. I studied with a Rabbi for several months to learn my part. Everything was ready. My father arranged for the ceremony in the local synagogue. My mother and sister made preparations for a feast for family and friends. Day of my Bar Mitzvah I fall ill. I’m running a high fever. Doctor is called in the wee hours of the night – those days doctors still made house calls. I plead with the doctor, Mom, and Pop to let me get out of bed to do my thing. I tell them that when I’m finished I promise to climb right back into bed. They agree and I perform. I remember sweating profusely. When it was all over my fever was gone and I felt fine. At the time, at least, I thought it was a miracle.
My father died when I was almost seventeen. I’m aware that after his death I began to slip away from practicing my Jewish faith. My mother was not strong enough to provide the anchor. I lived with my mother and two younger siblings. Rest of the family was dispersed. All my energies went into school and work. I had fond memories of my religious experience. I believed in and practiced Jewish ethical values but apparently had no need to celebrate my religious heritage. I was becoming a secular Jew.
Joan and I were married in 1958. Eve was born in ’63 and Martha in ’65. We purchased our first home in Plainfield, NJ in 1965. At that time we both agreed that maybe it was time for us to renew our relationship with organized Judaism. So we joined the local Reform Temple. It was through the Social Responsibility Committee of the Temple that we became acquainted with the Plainfield Unitarian Society. Joan will tell you the story of how and why we decided to visit this UU Church. I liked what the Minister had to say, people were warm and inviting, church social concerns outreach was relevant to the time and community, I loved the choir music, and UU ethical values were in harmony with my Judaic ethical values. After that first visit I knew where and how I wanted to continue my spiritual journey. I didn’t abandon my Jewish heritage. Rather I added to it.
Sermon – Judaism; Living in Covenant
Rev. Joan Gelbein
Shema yisroel adonai elohenu, adonai echod
[Choir sings the Shema right after Rev. Gelbein]
Hear O Israel,
The Lord Our God, the Lord is One
Familiar words from my past…
And you shall love the Lord, your God,
with all your heart, with all your might,
with all your soul.
And these words which I command you this day,
shall be upon your heart that you may remember,
do all my commandments
and be holy unto your God.
There were only two times in my life I was an observing Jew. Each experience graced me with a personal revelation.
The first time consisted of four summers when my parents sent me to live-away camp. The camp, located in Port Jervis, New York, was called Cejwin, run by a Conservative Jewish organization in New York City that my Father found out about. They sponsored a summer camp for Jewish children, and Dad signed me up the summer I was 12. I returned to Cejwin as a camper for four consecutive summers.
I loved it! We practiced Judaism. The food was kosher. The Sabbath was observed, and it was the heart of the week. I learned Jewish stories, songs, and dances. I was a happy camper!
The Revelation it afforded me was that I, for the first time, understood something about being Jewish. I claimed a newly understood Jewish identity. I knew I was Jewish, of course, but in our non-observant home I didn’t know much else about it. I think my Dad had some deep and serious questions about the existence of God, but he would never share them. He went to Temple on High Holy Days and fasted all day on Yom Kippur. My Mother liked the idea of God, but she was definitely a free spirit! She followed Astrology, was interested in the Rosicrucians, read Sigmund Freud, and followed Adele Davis’ ideas on healthy eating.
My next attempt at practicing my religion came a few years after Abe and I were married, with two very young daughters, and living in our first purchased house – in Plainfield, New Jersey. The Reform Temple was only a few blocks away from us, and we decided to join. During that first, and our only, year as official members of a temple, my second revelation occurred.
At the start, we enjoyed coming to Friday evening services, and attended pretty regularly. But, as the year progressed both of us were becoming uncomfortable. I realized that I was an agnostic and could make no relationship with the Jewish God. I didn’t want to pray. I didn’t want to stand every time the ark of the Torah was opened and the Shema was sung. That congregation seemed to me, at the time, so insular, so focused on Israel, and uninvolved in the major racism issues painfully current in Plainfield.
We became friendly with one of Abe’s colleagues at work. They were Unitarians. We were very drawn to their values as they shared them with us. One September Sunday morning in 1966, we drove, in our VW Microbus, to the First Unitarian Society of Plainfield, to attend a service. No god, very liberal, a sermon that didn’t sound like a sermon, lots of social action. We joined the church that day.
And the rest, they say is history.
My second revelation was that my Jewish identity expanded into a whole new religious and spiritual dimension. The world opened up. It was possible to re-define myself as I chose.
I guess there was a third revelation that took place in seminary. I wasn’t a Practicing Jew then; I was a Unitarian Universalist. From 1979 to 1981, I was a candidate for the UU ministry, studying for my Master of Divinity Degree at the Theological School of Drew University in Madison, New Jersey. In that Methodist seminary, while in “Old Testament” class, as they called it, I found my Jewish roots. In the pages of the Bible, as we studied them, I began to understand Judaism and to hear the voices of my family of origin. I had the sense that I really knew those people, and I embraced them as my own.
That was an emotional homecoming. I didn’t even think of leaving Unitarian Universalism, but my grounding as a Jew with a particular tradition and heritage became firm, and, finally, comfortable.
I had to experience what it means to be a Jew as a youth. I had to search for my own faith as a young adult, and I had to honor and affirm my Jewish roots as a mature adult. Perhaps we all go through similar developmental stages in our spiritual journeys.
Judaism is primarily, though not exclusively, a religion. Many Jews reject the religious components of their identity but still remain loyal to Jewish ideals and aspirations. They are linked to a Jewish past and future not by faith in a Deity, but by their attachments to the Jewish people. Being part of the Jewish people is where Judaism begins.
But it doesn’t end there because Jewish people can’t be fully understood without reference to their religion.
And, their religion can’t be fully understood without becoming acquainted with “The Covenant.” The Covenant, made with their one – and only one - God, Yahweh, is the pivot of this religion. If the Covenant is taken away, the religion would falter into a sea-change; its basic identity gone.
Simply put, the Covenant is an agreement between God and the Jewish people. The requirements of the Covenant are fully explained in the frst five books of the Hebrew Scriptures, which the Jews call “The Torah.”
By the way, many Jews are uncomfortable about their Bible being referred to as the “Old” testament. That implies the supercession of Christianity. It suggests that the “New” Testament is the updated, newer model of last century’s religion. To Jews, their testament isn’t the old one, it’s the only one. The expressions often used, instead, are Hebrew Scriptures or just Bible.
The Torah was given to the Jews by the Jewish God, Yahweh, through his Prophet Moses, during the Exodus from Egypt. The God of the Jews intervened in History, brought the Hebrews out of bondage and entered into Covenant with them as his “chosen people.”
The Covenant stipulates that God will protect and prosper the Jewish people if they in return will observe the statutes and the injunctions which God commands. Violation of the commandments results in punishment.
That “Chosen People” label hasn’t, and still doesn’t, sit too well with others, and with many Jews as well. Early on it was conceived of as a special responsibillity rather than one of special privilege. It is understood as a Covenant in which God and the Jewish people are partners in building a better world, and, as some feel, if Israel fails, all creation inevitably suffers. (An interesting view in the light of current events.)
In Judaism, if you are born a Jew, you are born into the binding Covenant. As a Jew, you may renounce the obligations, even deny the deity, but, still, you are a Jew. The Covenant continues. Judaism is, therefore, an essentially Eternal Covenant. It is an irrevocable agreement that binds every Jew to God and to every generation of his and her people, past, present, and future.
However, as basic as the concept may be to a clear understanding of Jewish religion, I need to tell you that the Covenant has never been a static notion either in its development or in its perception at any particular period.
Let me fill you in on some of the Jewish theology that is based in the conception of the Covenant. Being people of the Covenant, the Jews traditionally looked for and found meaning---
They found meaning … in Monotheism: That there is one God is the foundation of Jewish belief, and was quite new when introduced to the ancient world. As was written in Deuteronomy - Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One.”
… in a God-created universe: The Jewish belief that the world is God-created gave them a constructive premise. They never despaired of life itself. Meaning was always waiting to be won.
… especially In history: -- because it is in history that God intervenes and makes his will known. History is the “theatre of God’s glory,” so nothing in history happens accidentally. This belief affects the Jews’ whole attitude towards the social order and collective life. It is a mandate for social justice in this life, in this time, in this world. God speaks in deeds, and wants his people to do the same to create a more just and righteous life on earth.
… in human existence: -- because they wanted to understand the human condition, the gift of freedom, and live to their potentials.
…in morality: -- Yahweh insists upon high standards of morality and righteousness, and, because of the contrast between divine possibilities and human weakness, the path opens for a strong social conscience. The Ten Commandments structure and make possible a social world. Judaism is an “Ethical Monotheism.”
The Jews found meaning in … justice: -- because of the foundation built by the Prophets of biblical time to follow the law of God. They taught that the future of any people depends in large part on the justice of its social order, and that individuals are responsible for the social structures of their society as well as for their direct personal dealings.
… in suffering: -- because the prophets taught that there was meaning to be found in their predicaments, by seeing them as God’s way of underscoring the demand for righteousness.
And … in revelation: – The Jewish God revealed himself first and foremost in actions, such as the decisive Exodus event. The Exodus allowed people to become overwhelmingly aware of God’s reality and character. God was experienced as an unanticipated power and love that forged a people into a nation.
Of course, the agonizing problem of the Holocaust event in the 2oth century, gave rise to questions of God’s righteousness and the meaning of a “Chosen People.” But, if, after the Holocaust, their understanding of God came into question, the Jews didn’t abandon each other – but forged stronger ties to other Jews, and to the State of Israel.
The Jewish Connection with Israel : – Thousands of years of History and understanding of their Covenant with God, made Jerusalem deeply significant to the Jews.
Huston Smith wrote in this wonderful book, The Religions of the World, about the Jewish connection to Israel.
He said that, “generally speaking, the four great sectors of Judaism that constitute its spiritual anatomy are faith, observance, culture, and nation. …[as for “nation,”] … it’s one of the paradoxes of Judaism that during the two thousand years in which it crossed every national boundary and had no habitation but human hearts, it retained its passion for the land of its birth. Prayers for their return to Zion figured in every public service and every private devotion.”
The Passover seder ends with a toast, “Next year in Jerusalem.”
An understanding of Jewish history and the Jewish people’s abiding passion for the land of Israel requires an appreciation for biblical events in the context of the Covenant, which bound the people to their sacred soil. Moses, Joshua, the Judges, kings and prophets all labored in the strong and enduring conviction that the destiny of their people was irretrievably tied to the Land of Israel. This parcel of earth became not only the home of the Jewish soul, but the focus of its aspirations. Once the roots have been planted they could never again be plucked out.
--Rabbi Howard Greenstein
In the Book of Psalms in the Hebrew Scriptures is this poignant longing:
If I forget you O Jerusalem, let my right hand wither!
Let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth,
If I do not remember you,
If I do not set Jerusalem above my highest joy. (Ps.137:5-6)
A fundamental issue for the Jewish community is whether that community is compatible any longer with the religious dimensions of the Covenant from which most Jews derive their inspiration as a people of God. The question is – will the Covenant be an Eternal Covenant, or will it have to modify and change?
With the advent of new “streams” of Judaism, the answer is “Yes.” The varying responses to the encounter of Jews with the modern world have produced Conservative Jews, Reform Jews, and the Reconstructionists. Their wish is to preserve Judaism as a “living” religion, through adaptations in faith and practice suitable to our current times.
Bringing this all back to us and to this moment of worship together, I want to ask you if you have ever made a conscious Covenant with one you hold most dear. Is there any relationship of trust you have experienced as dependable, that could become the base of a mutual covenant?
With whom or with what vital presence in your life, could you make a promise of fidelity, commitment, dedication? How will the object of your commitment provide you in kind? What are the promises you are willing to make? What challenges and comfort do you wish to receive? Where do you know your deepest devotion – what does it require of you, and you, of it?
Think of marriage. And I include Gay Commitment or Holy Union Ceremonies. The central piece in these ceremonies is the Exchange of Vows. Vows are promises made to one another. Vows are a Covenant that has the power to deepen and transform the individuals in a relationship.
Just yesterday I drove out to a family farm in the Northern Neck to officiate at a wedding ceremony for two young, new members of our church – Sarah Fox and Christian Dawson.
My remarks to them gave a true sense, I hope, of the process of Covenant into which they were entering. I share them with you because I believe that this, in spirit, is not so different than the Covenant made by the Hebrews with their God.
This is what I said –
We are gathered here to celebrate a marriage, a spiritual union that embodies love’s most profound possibilities.
Love is a quality of spirit and an attitude of the emotions, but a marriage is a life’s work, a spiritual art form. Therefore this is an occasion of both profound joy and great responsibility
To speak of marriage as a spiritual enterprise is to enter into it with an understanding of its transforming power. Because of it, inside of it, and in response to it, you will be changed most remarkably. And not necessarily or exclusively in the ways you had hoped for or imagined.
Your marriage will cause you to become not only who you wanted to be, but also the person whom you have no choice but to be.
In marriage you will be re-formed, for in choosing this particular person to love and make your whole life with, you are choosing to be affected.
This is a spiritual process because it deals with the deepest essence of your being and, ultimately, with your capacity to love.
This marriage may feel like a destination, a sweet safe place in which you can finally rest; but it is also an opportunity, the emotional and spiritual environment in which you can both develop to your highest brilliance. This is the time to fulfill not only the joys of your heart, but the possibilities of your life.
The best assignment I can give you today, in the lingering light of this religion of the Covenant, is to create, with another or others, a new mutual Covenant for a relationship you wish to grow. Covenant together in friendship, in love, in family ties, in purpose. Be clear about the requirements; what each will contribute and provide. And, then, live it together with commitment and wonder. Become authentic in the crucible of caring commitment; become the person whom you have no choice but to be.
Benediction
This is a prayer adapted from the Book of Numbers in the Bible. It is a Blessing in the Jewish spirit: (#711 in UU Hymnal)
May the Eternal bless you and protect you!
May the Eternal smile on you and favor you!
May the Eternal befriend you and prosper you!
Amen, SHALOM, and Blessed be!
_________________________________________________________________
Recommended Reading:
“The World’s Religions” by Huston Smith. (The Revised and Updated edition of The Religions of Man.) 1991, HarperCollins Publishers, Inc., San Francisco, CA and New York, NY.
“The Illustrated World’s Religions; A Guide to Our Wisdom Traditions” by Huston Smith. 1994, HarperSanFrancisco Dividion of HarperCollins Publishers, NY. (Large-size beautiful paperback.)
“Judaism – An Eternal Covenant” by Rabbi Howard R. Greenstein. 1983, Fortress Press, Philadelphia, PA.
Questions for Covenant Groups:
1. Have you ever made a conscious Covenant with one you hold most dear? Is there any relationship of trust you have experienced as dependable, that could become the base of a mutual covenant?
With whom or with what vital presence in your life, could you make a promise of fidelity, commitment, dedication? How will the object of your commitment provide you in kind?
What are the promises you are willing to make?
What challenges and comfort do you wish to receive?
Where do you know your deepest devotion – what does it require of you, and you, of it?
2. Read the Minister’s remarks from the Fox-Dawson Wedding Ceremony quoted on pages 11 and 12. Comment on them from the standpoint of your understanding of “Covenant.”
3. Discuss how this relates to the fact that you’re in a “Covenant Group. At your meeting, examine the groups’ Covenant and see if you may want to change it in any way in the light of your deeper conversation about the concept and practice of “Covenant.”
