Rosh Hashanah and the Sermon on the Amount

This is a chock-full Sunday morning. Today we lift up two major themes essential to the life of our religious community. One is the Jewish High Holidays, which are personally important to many of us who have ties to Jewish tradition, as well as to Unitarian Universalism generally, which holds dear its roots in the Judeo-Christian tradition. The other major theme is the annual canvass: our church’s pledge drive, when we ask the members and friends of this beloved community to give as much as we all can to help us live and thrive in the coming year. Either topic is enough for its own sermon… or book. But upon reflection, some ties between the two become apparent, as ties almost always do become apparent between almost any two things, given enough time to reflect. (That’s part of why living a life that includes time for reflection is so valuable; everything is in relation when you think about it: the sky and the sea, the past and the future, a rock and a tree, me and George W. Bush… we are all connected and it’s good to remember that.)

So, in that spirit, the Jewish High Holidays began two days ago with Rosh Hashanah on Friday evening, the first of the Hebrew calendar’s month of Tishrei. These holidays herald the Jewish new year, and a call to renew our connection to life, responsibility, repentance, forgiveness, inspiration and commitment. Followed by the Ten Days of Penitence, the holiday concludes with Yom Kippur, when people are most focused on restoring their sense of participation in an experience of living that is meaningful, spiritual, and most important of all: right, living in the best way they know how.

R. Irving Greenberg writes: “Judaism is a religion of life against death. Death negates redemption; it is the end of growth, of freedom. Death is so contradictory of liberation that a Talmudic sage exempts the mourner preparing for the funeral from the daily requirement of… remembering the Exodus… Judaism’s general response to the fact of death is to fight back. Life is given the highest priority. The physician is commanded to heal. Even partial triumphs—a sickness cured, some months of life snatched from the domain of death—constitute a fulfillment of the command. When someone dies, the mourner steps forward and, through the recitation of the Kaddish, testifies that this family has not yielded to the crushing defeat… . The one notable exception to the arm’s-length treatment of death is… the High Holy Days. During this cluster of days, the tradition deliberately concentrates the individual’s attention on death.” (The Jewish Way, p. 184).

Each year here at UUCSS we mark the high holidays and explore some aspect of them. And death is by no means the only or even the most important theme during these holidays. Judgment, Mercy, Forgiveness, these too are crucial. But this year, the element that seems most significant to me is that relationship between death and renewal, between facing the end and renewing our courage and commitment to living as fully as we may. Because this is how we stay alive, by encountering death. When we are brought into a true sense of our relationship to death—by an illness of our own or someone we know or love, by a story, by a near escape, by another’s tragedy, by attending funerals and memorial services—in myriad ways we are exposed to death, reminded of its immanence and our own vulnerability. Judaism holds that we are challenged in three ways by this aspect of the new year. (TJW, p. 185) Our mortality challenges us to fight against death in life, and the death of the soul: stagnation and routine, by continually exploring life and thus renewing the vitality of our souls. Our mortality challenges us also to accept it as one of the realities around us, so that we are in true relation with them, living a life grounded in actuality and truth. And third, in reflecting on life and death, we contemplate also creation and hope: the possibilities and challenges of life. “What is life worth? What has been accomplished? By what merit do I still stand?” (TJW, p. 185) Being honest with ourselves and our loved ones and our faith in this way, we may all equip ourselves to live more fully in the new year.

Those are considerations not only for each of us, but also for our congregation as a whole. UUCSS, a few years ago, was in a bad way. People were unhappy and unfulfilled, unsatisfied with the ministry of the church and at odds with each other over what to do about it. Dark times like that can easily be enough to end a congregation and make no mistake, a lot of people here were afraid for the very life of this church. The past few years have been years of recovery, of treatment, of faithful care and healing. It is a testament to the extraordinary spirit and devotion that flourishes in this community that this church is still here to bear witness to its history, growing and thriving, and living fully into its future. And the result of these years of recovery is apparent all around us. This church has faced and lived through much pain and suffering, and we have survived and the future is spread before us like a banquet - like a blessing. And so we are faced also as a congregation with those essential questions, especially relevant at the time of our canvass: What is our life together as a church worth? What has been accomplished? By what merit do we still stand, and stand together?

Because living fully is not a piece of cake. Particularly, living fully as a Unitarian Universalist is not a piece of cake. A close friend and national UU lay leader, Jerry Davidoff, had these words to say recently at our large UU congregation, South Church in Portsmouth, NH. Though they are for another congregation and their canvass, they rang so true to me when I heard about them that I asked his permission to share them with you. Jerry said:

“Choice is freedom. It is what freedom is all about. Choice. I remember, searingly, a time when I was in therapy for a depression. The psychiatrist asked me what I’d do with my life if money were not a factor. Choice! I pondered it painfully—maybe even obsessed over it—for weeks. It is without doubt the dirtiest question I’ve ever been asked. Imagine unrestricted choice. A dirty question; an opportunity for heresy.

It isn’t easy being a Unitarian Universalist. No one makes the decisions for us. No one tells us what to think. Not in Portsmouth. Not in Indianapolis, or San Diego or in Seattle or in Boston. Our inner senses of responsibility, perhaps of propriety, guided by our loves sand our learnings, all affect that choice. The choices are not always evident. And sometimes we are even unwise, sometimes even wrong. It isn’t easy being a Unitarian Universalist.

We seek answers. But the process of seeking answers is itself often rewarding. The parable is told of the lady shopping in the yards goods department in the historic original Filene’s basement in Boston, and asking the clerk for fifty yards of chiffon. “I want to make a nightie,” said the customer “That’s a lot of chiffon, for a nightie” remarked the salesperson. “I’m afraid you don’t understand,” said the customer, “my husband’s a Unitarian. He’d rather seek than find.”

Elaine Pagels is a distinguished professor at Princeton Theological Seminary, and a prolific, and readable author. John Buchanan, editor and publisher of Christian Century, writing this summer of Pagels’ book Beyond Belief, reported that:

“When her young son was diagnosed with what proved to be a terminal illness, Pagels found herself standing in the back of a church and deciding she needed to be there. Despite a lifetime struggle with church doctrine, she recognized that "here was a place to weep without imposing tears upon a child, in a heterogeneous community that had gathered to sing, to celebrate, to acknowledge common needs, and to deal with what we cannot control or imagine.”

What a statement of a church’s true business. For me it describes much of why I go to church. Does it do that for you?

And yet. And yet. Perfection does elude us. If there were notches in my cane for each time I’ve said to myself, and maybe even to (my wife) Denny, “I’m never going to that damned church again,” my cane would be a toothpick.

And yet. And yet. When my church was conducting a survey in connection with a successful canvass, the survey questionnaire asked what events or activities were the most effective in eliciting a generous contribution: the Fellowship Dinner? A distinguished guest speaker? Testimonials of fellow members? The minister’s canvass sermon? The Canvass brochure? Personal contact from a canvasser?

I sent an email in response: “None of the above. I pledge because it is my church. I pledge if the sermon is bad, if the Board is wrong, if the choir is flat, if the coffee is cold. It’s my church. I need it and it needs me.”

Some years ago that distinguished Unitarian Universalist cleric Jack Mendelsohn wrote that there are great congregations and great ministers. What was, and is, so remarkable, he wrote, is that each creates the other.

I quote scripture this Sunday afternoon. From Matthew, book 5, these familiar lines:
- You are the salt of the earth: but if the salt has lost its savor, how shall it be salted? It is afterward good for nothing but to be cast out, and to be trodden under foot. You are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hid.

The story is told of Max Goldberg who attended his synagogue with unremitting regularity and devotion. Every Sabbath, both Friday evening and on Saturday, he asked God that he be allowed to win the lottery.

One Friday, in desperation and frustration, he screamed, “God, is it too much to ask. I come to synagogue regularly. I praise you. I try to live by your commandments. I live a life of prayer and study. IS IT TOO MUCH TO ASK THAT YOU—JUST ONCE—LET ME WIN THE LOTTERY.”

A deep, resonant, overwhelming voice shook the foundations of the synagogue. “Goldberg, give me a break,” thundered the voice. “Buy a ticket.”

Jerry concludes with words I have adapted because his message is also my own to you:

“You the leaders of the Unitarian Universalist Church of Silver Spring. You have bought tickets, and you have a won. What a prize. You have come through a dark night and a challenge to your very life and you have emerged the stronger for it, with the best result of all: your remarkable church. Vibrant. Full of activity. Redolent of commitment. An example of what a congregation can and should be. By being a great congregation, UUCSS has brought to flower my ministry and our shared ministry together. Our relationship is mutual, and enviable. You are the salt of the earth. You who are here today are the ones who give that salt its savor. You are much to be congratulated. You are becoming a city on the hill, flush with vitality, filled with capacity and gifts and sacredness and meaning.

Keep buying those tickets. For as we each need this church, and UUCSS needs each of us, so too the future needs us and what we are becoming. It is an honor to be among you.”

Amen.