Monday, September 25, 2017

Rosh HaShanah Morning 5778 - The Divine Nature of Creating

A version of this sermon was delivered Rosh HaShanah morning 5778 at Temple Emanu-El of East Meadow

            Before there was anything, there was God, a few angels, and a huge swirling glob of rocks and water with no place to go.  The angels asked God, “Why don’t you clean up this mess?”
            So, God collected rocks from the huge swirling glob and put them together in clumps and said: “Some of these clumps of rocks will be planets, and some will be stars, and some of these rocks will be…just rocks.”
            Then God collected water from the huge swirling glob and put it together in pools of water and said: “Some of these pools of water will be oceans, and some will become clouds, and some of this water will be…just water.”
            Then the angels said: “Well God, it’s neater now, but is it finished?” And God answered…
“Nope!”
On some of the rocks God placed growing things, and creeping things, and things that only God knows what they are, and when God had done all this, the angels asked God, “Is the world finished now?”  And God answered…
“Nope!”
God made a man and a woman from some of the water and dust and said to them: “I am tired now.  Please finish up the world for me…really, it’s almost done.”  But the man and the woman said: “We can’t finish the world alone!  You have the plans and we are too little!”
“You are big enough,” God answered them. “But, I agree to this.  If you keep trying to finish the world, I will be your partner.”
“The man and the woman asked: “What’s a partner?”  And God answered…
“A partner is someone you work with on a big thing that neither of you can do alone. If you have a partner, it means that you can never give up, because your partner is depending on you.  On the days you think I am not doing enough and on the days I think you are not doing enough, even on those days, we are still partners and we must not stop trying to finish the world.  That’s the deal.”  And they all agreed to that deal.
Then the angels asked God, “Is the world finished yet?”  And God answered…
“I don’t know.  Go ask my partners.”[1]


In this telling of the creation story, God makes a point to emphasize that creation is not done, and that humanity is God’s partner, tasked with creation.  Rosh Hashanah commemorates the creation of the world, the reason why our Torah reading for the second day is the story of creation from the first chapter of Genesis.  A little later our choir will end our Shofar Service with the words of Hayom Harat Olam: this is the day of the world’s birth.  Our ancestors did the math in the Torah, adding up all the dates of birth and lifespans, and they determined that this year is the 5778th year since the world’s creation.  Perhaps we would have expected that in almost 6000 years, we’d be done, but this last year has taught us that creation is still awaiting perfection and that creation’s perfection still waits on us and our actions.  We are indeed partners in divine action.  And the angels are still asking if we’re done yet.
The Torah starts with a bang!  God’s first action is creation.  Bereishit Bara Elohim.  In the beginning, God created.  We understand God’s role to be primarily, or at least initially, that of creator, forming something of value and importance out of the primordial wild and waste, the tuhu vavohu.  We recognize this and praise God for it.
This morning, as every morning, we read the prayer Baruch She’amar, which begins: Baruch she’amar v’hayah ha’olam / praised be the One who spoke and the world came to be.  Every morning we thank God and praise God for the act of creation.  We recognize the unique ability that God has to speak creation into being. 
As humans, our words are indeed powerful, but not powerful enough to create worlds or beings.  As humans we are called to try to emulate God, we are created in God’s image, but we don’t have the divine tools.  We have our hands, our hearts, and our brains.  The closest thing we have to a divine tool is our voice; and its role, though not one of creation, is important.  When God is done with creation, God takes a moment, gazes over God’s handiwork, takes a divine breath, and recognizes that what God had created was not just good, but very good, and ultimately worthy of blessing, when God blesses Shabbat.  Our voices have the ability to bless and praise, but it’s our hands and our minds which have the divine creative impulse within them.
A year ago, as our congregation was deliberating our future, I described our place as in the wilderness, a place of uncertainty between where we’ve been and where we’re going.  The wilderness, though scary, is a place of great creativity.  This year, as many, but certainly not all, of the questions about our community’s future have been answered, we find ourselves moving closer to the border of the Promised Land, though not yet arrived.  And we are now given the opportunity to determine what our new community will be, so that we will arrive next year, on Jerusalem Avenue.
Our voices have been heard, so now it is time to put our hands and minds to work.  Let us, in this New Year, channel our divinely given charge of creation toward the establishment of our new community with divine impetus and skill, with a determination that everyone has something to contribute, with an eye toward seizing the opportunity presented to us, with the charge to make space for others, and with a sense that new doesn’t mean getting rid of the old. 

Let us create with divine impetus and skill:

In the middle of the wilderness, the people are commanded to create.  God calls to Moses and requests that the people build God a sanctuary so that God may dwell among them.  In order to make this happen, God singles out one man, among the many Israelites, to be the foreman of the divine building project.  This man’s name is Bezalel, and he takes up the mantle of overseeing creation of a house for the people to communicate with the divine.  The Torah tells us:
See, the Eternal has singled out by name Bezalel, son of Uri son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah.  God has endowed him with a divine spirit of skill, ability, and knowledge in every kind of craft and has inspired him to make designs for work in gold, silver, and copper, to cut stones for setting and to carve wood—to work in every kind of designer’s craft, and to give directions. He and Oholiab son of Ahisamach of the tribe of Dan have been endowed with the skill to do any work.[2]

Bezalel is singled out, but also partnered with Oholiab.  Oholiab is often forgotten in this story, First, because God singles out Bezalel first, and second because Bezalel has a school of art and design named after him in Jerusalem.  Each of them, and both of them, are filled with what the Torah calls chochmat lev.  While this is translated simply as skill, the literal translation is the wisdom of the heart.  The skills Bezalel and Oholiab have are divinely inspired, and a combination of both wisdom and soul, heart and head together.[3] 
            The rabbinic tradition reinforces this point about Bezalel.  In the Talmud,[4] we read of Bezalel:
In the moment that the Holy One of Blessing said to Moses: Say to Bezalel: make for me a Mishkan, an ark, and vessels. Moses went and switched the order, and he said to [Bezalel]: make an ark, vessels, and a Mishkan. [Bezalel] said to him, our teacher, it is the custom of everyone that [first] one builds a house, and afterwards [one] places inside vessels, and you are saying, make for me an ark, vessels, and a Mishkan. Where do I place the vessels that I am making?

In this moment, Bezalel recognizes an incongruity in Moses’ instructions.  Something doesn’t add up.  When he asks Moses what he’s supposed to do with the vessels, he’s asking Moses the purpose for all that he is asked to construct.  He wants to know the why.  He wants to understand deeply, in his heart as well as in his mind, so that he can build and create with intentionality, with kavannah
            Moses responds to Bezalel’s retort with words that amount to a blessing: “Perhaps you were in the shadow of God.”  Here, the Talmud makes a point of emphasizing the meaning in Bezalel’s name.  Shéma betzel el hayyita.  Betzel-el, in the shadow of God.
If, as a community, we make our choices with intentionality and purpose, if we ask the right questions, and seek the purpose.  If we focus on the why and use the skill of our mind as well as the skill of our heart, we will be blessed to do so in the shadow of God.  We will be blessed to create with divine impetus and skill.

Let us be determined as well that everyone has something to contribute to this creative project:

Bezalel gets the accolades, and deservedly so.  But even before God singles out Bezalel in the book of Exodus, we read: “the Israelites, all the men and women whose hearts moved them to bring anything for the work that the Eternal, through Moses, had commanded to be done, brought it as a freewill offering to the Eternal.”  But it’s not just that they brought the gold and the precious stones and the skins and the yarn and the wood, the materials commanded for the building.  It’s that everyone who wanted to be a part of the creation was invited to be.  Everyone whose heart moved them to join in the act of creating a home for God was welcomed to participate.  Big tent Judaism in the service of building a big tent for God. 
We read that the women who were skilled in spinning, spun yarn, and then brought it.  Everyone’s skill set was put to use.  Everyone who could do, did.  Everyone, men and women, helped to create the beautiful house for the Eternal, because they knew that it was also a house for them.  A place where they could reach for the sublime and find the answers to life’s most difficult questions.  A place where their connection to heaven was made manifest.  A place where God would dwell among them.  A place where they could create community and pass traditions on to their children.
Bezalel may have been imbued with a divine skill, but he was only given two hands, like the rest of us.  He needed everyone’s help to accomplish the task.  He needed everyone to give of their time and their effort, in addition to their donations.  It was the first capital campaign in history, but it has an important lesson to teach, because it wasn’t a passive campaign.  It asked people to participate and made space for everyone.  It asked of people to express their talent for everyone’s benefit. 
Everyone in our community has been asked to be a part of this creation, with your skills and your hearts.  Each of us has our own skills we can add.  If we choose to use them, and choose to give of our talents, we will be blessed to create a place where God will surely dwell among us.

Let us work to seize the opportunity given to us to build something to the glory of God:

The building of the Mishkan in the book of Exodus is the first of the two great building projects dedicated to God described in the Bible.  The other is the Temple in Jerusalem built by Solomon in the book of Kings.  David, Solomon’s father, was not allowed to build the Temple for God because even though he was the king of Israel and established Jerusalem as the capitol, his sins of the heart and body render him unfit in God’s eyes.  So it is left to his son, Solomon the wise, to establish God’s permanent abode atop Mount Moriah, that same mountain where Abraham brings Isaac, that same mountain where Adam and Eve find refuge after exile from Eden.
In the book of Kings, Solomon’s building of the Temple comes about not only by divine command.  We read of Solomon corresponding with Hiram, the King of Tyre, in modern day Lebanaon:
You know that my father David could not build a house for the name of the Eternal his God because of the enemies that encompassed him, until the Eternal had placed them under the soles of his feet.  But now the Eternal my God has given me respite all around; there is no adversary and no mischance.  And so I propose to build a house for the name of the Eternal my God, as the Eternal promised my father David, saying, ‘Your son, whom I will set on your throne in your place, shall build the house for My name.’[5]

Solomon, as any good son would, tries to clean up his father’s reputation by commenting that it was David’s enemies, not his dalliances, which caused a delay in the building project for God.  Solomon then goes on to tell King Hiram that it is his idea to begin construction now.  “I propose,” he says, “hineini omer.”  The Hineini here is important, because it is most often used as the marker of a response to God.  When God calls to Abraham twice in our reading this morning, once with the command to sacrifice his son, and once with the command to stay his hand, Abraham responds both times with the word, Hineini.  When God calls to Jacob, Moses, and Isaiah, each of them respond with Hineini.  Here I am, but also with an implied sense of being ready to do what God has commanded. 
            In Solomon’s case, there is no call from God to build as there was in the desert to Moses.  Solomon looks around, sees the peace he has been able to establish after his father’s wars, and the wealth he has begun to amass due to his expanding empire, and he determines for himself that he is ready to do God’s work in building the Temple.  It is only after Solomon finishes building the Temple that God’s voice is heard.  “The word of the Eternal came to Solomon: With regard to this House you are building, if you follow My laws and observe My rules and faithfully keep My commandments, I will fulfill for you the promise that I gave to your father David.  I will abide among the children of Israel, and I will never forsake My people Israel.”[6]
            Solomon takes it upon himself to look around at the situation and determine that the time is right to begin construction.  The time has come to create a house for God.  It is only after Solomon takes the initiative himself that God recommits to the covenant with the people Israel.
            We have looked around.  We have determined that the time is now and the time is right to commit to a new project to create a house for God and a house for our community.  By devoting ourselves to that task, by taking the initiative, we will make an opportunity for God’s presence to dwell with us, and be blessed to find our covenant with God reaffirmed.

Let us make space for others:

            We know that not everything will be the same.  Many elements of what we have come to know and love about Temple Emanu-El may change.  Much will most likely stay the same, but we also must look with honesty at the reality of what it means to bring two congregations together.  It means bringing together two sets of customs, two sets of expectations, two distinct histories, two traditions, and two groups of people.  In many cases there can and should be room for both.  But in order to make room for both, we have to take a cue from God.
            Before there was anything, there was God.  The Kabbalists teach that in order for God to create the world, God had to make space, since there was only God, and God filled all space.  This process of withdrawal is called tzimtzum, contraction, making space, and it is a necessary part of creation.  Creation cannot come to be without it.  “How did God create the world?  Like a person taking a deep breath and holding it, so that the small contains the large.”[7]  “Before the creation of the world, the Eternal God withdrew itself into its essence…it left an empty space within its essence in which it could emanate and create.”[8]
            For God to create the world, God has to make space.  God takes a deep breath in…holds it…forever.  It is in that void, in the space that used to be filled with God’s essence, that God creates.  God has to make room.  God has to clear away some of God, give up some of what God had always been.  God gave that up for us.  God made space for us, for the earth, for the universe to be.  In order to create, God had to give.
            We will no doubt be asked to compromise, and make space for traditions, customs, and ideas which are new, unfamiliar, and possibly even uncomfortable, for both sides.  But if we remember the divine contraction, the divine making of space, the tzimtzum, we can try to emulate the divine way and make room to create something new and worthy of blessing.

New doesn’t have to mean getting rid of the old:

            When Moses goes up to the mountain of God a second time, after the Golden Calf, after he throws down the tablets of the law and shatters them, he is given two new tablets.  But, unlike the first set, these are not etched by God.  They are etched by Moses.  The second time, God tells him, the work is up to you.  You were handed something, but now you have to create.  Moses transcribes the Ten Commandments onto two new tablets and descends from the mountain with them in his hands, as he had done 40 days earlier.
            When the time comes to place the tablets in the Ark of the Covenant, the gold covered box, carried by the priests, and upon which God’s presence was said to dwell, there was a choice to be made.  Moses had before him two sets of tablets.  One, shiny, new, etched by his own hand.  Another set, shattered, broken, a remnant from an earlier encounter with God.  Moses decides that both sets belong in the Ark.  The new and the old have a place.  Each set of tablets has holiness.  Each set of tablets has within it the word of God, the breath of God, the presence of God.  There is room in the Ark for both.
            When we come together as a new, merged community, we will make space for both sets of tablets.  Those that are a remnant of what was, and those that represent the new direction.  There is a place for both, and both deserve to be preserved and revered.  When we make space for both sets of tablets, we will be blessed to have completed the creation of a new community devoted to God, built upon the foundation that was laid by our forebears.

            In this next year, we have a special opportunity to channel our internal divine impulse in the service of creation of a new community.  It will take a lot of work and effort from all of us, and everyone is invited to participate.  If we channel the divine skills we have been given, if we ensure that everyone has a role and a contribution, if we seize the opportunity afforded to us, if we work to make space for others, and if we work to bring the best of the past with us, we will no doubt be successful.  We will be successful such that a year from now, when we gather together on Rosh Hashanah 5779 we will be blessed to look back at the work that we have created, declare that it is very good, and find cause to take a divine breath, and bless all that we have created.

Kein Yehi Ratzon.

Shanah Tovah!



[1] From: Does God Have a Big Toe?
[2] Exodus 35:30-35
[3] Thanks, Rabbi Jillian Cameron for this teaching about Bezalel
[4] Berachot 55a
[5] 1 Kings 5: 17-19
[6] 1 Kings 6:11-12
[7] Matt, Daniel.  The Essential Kabbalah,  p 92
[8] Ibid. 93

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