Rabbi Marc E. Berkson — Yom Kippur Morning — 5766
“SHEMA KOLEINU- HEAR OUR VOICE”
Yom Kippur Morning—5766
God, truth be told, is not something we are comfortable talking about. Children are so much more at ease talking about God than we are. They can ask the most important theological questions like “Who made God?” or “Why doesn’t God do great miracles anymore?” or “Where do I go after I die?” And when their questions become too uncomfortable for us, we simply say, “Go ask the rabbi,” as if I am some kind of expert.
That discomfort comes, in part, I would suggest, because even though we have grown up, our conception of God remains as it was when we were children. In all honesty, how do you picture God? I am not looking for hands—I am simply asking you to picture God in your minds. For many of us, perhaps most of us, God remains a male character of a certain old age, a white man with a flowing white beard, sitting on a throne in some kind of regal robe. When I talk about this to our kids in Kabbalat Torah, I tell them that I used to think God was the insomniac on the Hills Brothers coffee cans. Yet more. For we still desperately hope that this God in His wisdom will, if we are good, bestow goodness upon us and, if they are bad, make sure that they will be punished. I know, I know. I have described Santa Claus. But, for so many of us, if we cannot have this God, then we are not sure if, as Professor Gene Borowitz once put it, we want any God at all.
Still, we have come here today. Surely we are not all believers. And I am also sure that we did not come to talk about God—for we are not all theologians. Yet we have come, bearing our fears and our hopes. Perhaps we have come because of those fears and hopes. Somehow we want to give them voice. And we do so not by talking about God, but by talking to the God we hope is real.
A friend of Rabbi Harold Schulweis of Valley Beth Shalom in Encino, California, insisted that all Jews offered the same prayer, just in different dialects. “Shema Yisrael, Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai Ehad,” offered the traditional Jew. “Shema Yisrael, I deny Eloheinu, I deny Ehad,” offered the atheist. And the agnostic, “Shema Yisrael, I dunno Eloheinu, I dunno Ehad.” But most of us are neither atheists nor agnostics; we are, almost all of us, seekers, yearning to believe, yearning to be at one with the One. So we come this day not to talk about God; rather, we are here to talk to God, with words to God to bridge that chasm as best we can, to make the “ineffable expressible” as best we can, to not sin with our silence. And the verses we read this past Shabbat from the prophet Hosea make clear our task: “Return, O Israel, to the Eternal your God,/ For you have fallen because of your sin./ K’khu imachem d’varim, Take with you words/ v’shuvu el Adonai, And return to the Eternal.”
It is Yom Kippur once again and, once again, we are here. With our fears and our hopes, the words we turn to are the words in these books. It can be hard, I know. The language may be foreign; the concepts, at times, even more so. With al chet, we have once more confessed our sins. Then, trembling, we take words and cry out, “Shema koleinu, Adonai Eloheinu, Hear our voice, we say, O Eternal our God.” To the God of which we are not fully sure, we implore, “Hear our voice, listen to us.” Notes Rabbi Janet Marder, former president of the Central Conference of American Rabbis, “our tradition—our difficult, stubborn, beloved old tradition—does not say—take theology. It does not say–take a Jewishly authentic God-concept. It does not say–take a clear and coherent philosophy of prayer. It doesn’t even say–take with you faith. Instead it says, take words, use words, to connect with the Most High. Take these imperfect instruments of communication, and say them with all the passion you can muster. Take your doubts and your hesitations and your profound embarrassment and put them into the words, as well. Bring it all to the synagogue. Bring it all to your prayers.”
Do not sin against God by silence. Take words. For what matters to God, according to the Vilna Gaon, and what will come to matter to us, is that we are calling out, we are in search, seeking the One Who needs us, a lover with whom we long to be. Speak the words, know their power, know they will bridge that gap between us and God. The words of Shema koleinu continue: hus v’rhem aleinu, vkabel b’rahamim uvratzon et tefilateinu; Hear our voice, Eternal, Our God, have compassion upon us and with that compassion, accept our prayer.” In saying the words, we also say that the exact words are not what matter most. We do not need God to hear our exact words; rather, we yearn for God to hear, through the words, our voices expressing our fears, our hopes, our repentance, our yearning. Look at the words in translation back on page 279 from last night. “Do not cast us away from Your presence, do not remove Your holy spirit. Do not cast us away when we are old; as our strength diminishes, do not abandon us. Do not be far from us.” Don’t leave us, we implore. Don’t abandon us when we get old. Take care of us. We do not want to live and die alone, abandoned, at best watched over by strangers. Renew our days as in the past—make it like it was in the good old days. We are not sure—but we build the bridge. For somehow, some way, saying the words makes them real.
We say the words; our voice must be heard. And it makes it so much easier—and so much more meaningful—to hear others offering the same words. We build the bridge together making the words real here in our community, in our congregation. “Take with you words, and return to the Eternal.”
150 years ago, Milwaukee’s first Jews gathered in worship. Believers, agnostics, atheists, seekers, we do not know. We do know that they gave birth to this congregation. And we do know that they, too, took words and cried out to God.—Shema koleinu—hear our voice. Their words were offered in German—we still have their first mahzor, their first prayerbook–but God, of course, understands all languages. B’ne Jeshurun and Emanu-El were to split for 58 years. Yet, guided by the first edition of The Union Prayerbook in 1894, their respective members would gather every Yom Kippur to take words and cry out to God—Shema Koleinu, hear our voice. Brought back together in this magnificent building, through several editions of The Union Prayerbook and then with Gates of Repentance, again we took words and cried out to God—Shema koleinu, hear our voice. In the process, Congregation Emanu-El B’ne Jeshurun has also given birth to just about every other congregation and Jewish organization in Milwaukee.
150 Yom Kippur Days—as we and our ancestors have taken words to make God’s presence real here in Milwaukee. This year, then, will be a year of celebration as we observe our sesquicentennial; this year will also be a year of adventure as we embark on our next 150. As we break our fasts tonight, consider…
…joining with Bob Jacobs and a growing contingent of families and kids a week from this Saturday evening to help build our sukkahmobile. Then join in a week from Sunday as it makes its rounds on a progressive dinner throughout the city and northern suburbs welcoming old friends and new friends into our congregation. You may also wish to join Bob and the sukkahmobile on the following Monday when the sukkahmobile will be on Marquette’s campus. Sukkot is our universal holiday.
… joining with Rick Conn and our Torah Writing committee as our congregation writes a new Torah scroll celebrating 150 years of telling and retelling our story as Jews.
… joining our Shabbat Morning Study Minyan where some 15-25 of us gather every Shabbat morning at 9 to read and learn about our story. One sin we surely do not commit is that of silence. We engage our Torah text as generations of commentators reflected in a variety of translations join our discussion. We have learned that every jot and every tittle and every space in Torah has meaning. In our six years—beginning with Genesis—we have reached the middle of Leviticus.
… joining with Cese Holland and our Worship Committee as we continue to seek God in public prayer. With their help and guidance, we have created a joyful and transformative worship experience unique in Milwaukee—not only at Torahpalooza: Shabbas with an Attitude, but every time we gather in our sacred space to pray. Would our founders have recognized our service? Surely not—but they would have recognized our commitment to community and our dedication to God. They surely would have understood the Worship Committee’s development of our congregational funeral plan.
… joining with our Cantor and our Choir to literally allow your voices to carry ours to God on the wings of song. Music, participatory music, brings us closer to each other and thereby closer to God.
… joining with Debbie Carter Berkson on our Social Action Committee and with Lew Friedland and Judy Lerner and Tikkun Ha-Ir as we find new ways to engage in the world around us doing all we can to make this imperfect world into the world God so desires.
… joining with Sherry Malmon and with Lisa Goldstein in Life Long Learning as we build a community of learners engaged in serious study beginning at birth and continuing throughout one’s life.
… joining with Audrey Keyes and Sacred Aging as together we find new celebrations and observances to commemorate and mark the transitions in life as we look to 120.
… joining with Mark Holland and Brotherhood as, with creative ideas and with the help and guidance of a North American Federation of Temple Brotherhood, we build bonds of friendship and fellowship within and outside of the congregation.
… joining with Karen Port and Cathy Marks to volunteer your services and with Estelle Felber to work with Ozerim, our group reaching out to those who are shut in.
…joining with Jim and Ruth Fromstein as they research and write the story of our first 150 years and with Fran Meyers and Sue Selig as they consider the best ways to celebrate in our 150th year.
…and consider joining with all who lead and serve this holy congregation as we begin the writing of our next 150 years.
Wrote the poet Ruth Brin:
Take words with you and return to the Lord.
Return, as the eagle flies, in a mounting spiral to its mountain nest, swift and sure.
Return, as the leaves in spring, renewed and beautiful.
Stretch out your arms to God and return,
like a child to her mother, to love and peace.
Shema koleinu, Adonai Eloheinu—Hear our voice, Eternal our God. And know that we will continue to take words to make Your presence real here in Milwaukee. That is our task as reflected in our name. For what else is Emanu-El, Immanu-el, than God is with us.