To
My Dear Students,
A
Rabbi was invited to Shabbat dinner at the home
of a congregant. In the course of conversation,
the congregant asked the Rabbi what he was going
to preach that evening. The Rabbi replied
that he was considering speaking about Shabbat
observance.
"You
can't do that, Rabbi," retorted the congregant.
"Most of our members do not observe Shabbat
and you should not offend them."
"Well,"
said the Rabbi, "perhaps I will speak about
the importance of respecting parents, not committing
adultery, and the importance of the family in
our tradition."
"But
Rabbi," said the congregant, "don't
you know that many of our congregants' family
life leaves much to be desired?"
"All
right," said the Rabbi, "I will preach
about morality."
"You
can't do that Rabbi. Some of our members
are known to have their ethical weaknesses and
they will think you are singling them out."
"I
see your point," said the Rabbi. "Perhaps
I should speak about social justice."
"Impossible
Rabbi, we don't want to make waves over the controversial
issues. You don't want to get involved in
politics."
"Perhaps,"
said the Rabbi, "you would be kind enough
to suggest a topic for my sermon?"
"That's
simple, Rabbi. Why don't you just talk about
the Ten Commandments?"
This
story is directed at anyone who would strip Judaism
of its positive and specific demands. The
dark humor lies in the fact that there is no such
thing as a Judaism that is divorced from actual
practice. There is no word in classical
Hebrew for "religion," as though religion
was a separate category. Torah is to govern
everything we do. The Ten Commandments,
which we read in this week's Portion, are to guide
us in the living room, the board room, the class
room, the market place, while we work and while
we play, when we lie down and when we rise up,
when we sit in our home and when we walk by the
way.
Judaism
is a way of life.
Shabbat
Shalom,
Your
Rabbi
|
