Author: Rabbi Aaron Bergman

This last Thursday night I had my first and likely last experience singing in a Broadway type musical. I was the guest opening singer in a delightful local production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. I somehow managed to remember a fairly large number of the right lyrics and did not trip over and fall on one of the children, which would have been extremely awkward, especially on opening night.

The show itself and this production in particular is very entertaining and fast paced. The songs are good and everything moves nicely to an upbeat conclusion. What gets lost in the show is that there are some really bad people who are involved in the Joseph story.

I do not just mean the brothers who throw Joseph in a pit. That is certainly bad enough. I was thinking more about the Midianites to whom the brothers sell Joseph. The Midianites were not merely merchants. They were in the slave trade, as well, and could care not less about the humanity of their cargo. They could have used, “We will be your brother’s keeper” as their business motto.

The Book of Genesis warns against having any contact with them because of their lack of morality.

It is fascinating, then, that when Moses, in the Book of Exodus, leaves Pharaoh’s palace, the only home he ever knew, and flees into the wilderness, lost and alone, The people in he runs into are Midianites. He rescues some of them from a bad situation, but ultimately they save him. He marries a Midianite woman. His children are half Midianite. His most trusted advisor, the man who really teaches him about leadership and selflessness, is his father-in-law Yitro, a Midianite priest.

The Torah is teaching us that our family history does not have to be our destiny. We can recreated ourselves to be the kind of person we want to be. We may have very difficult and challenging people in our past. We may have painful memories of things they did, maybe even to us. It does not mean that we are destined to relive and perpetuate those things.

Every morning in our prayers we remind ourselves that our souls are pure. Our souls cannot be damaged or made unclean. We have the potential to rise above the difficult aspects of our past. This does not mean we need to make a complete break with our past, or that we should. I hope we all have positive and loving memories of our past.

I want us to be able to face the past with compassion, and get on with the kind of lives that would make us happier, without hearing those negative voices or thoughts from our history.

This Monday is Martin Luther King, Jr. day, which I am thrilled that we observe as a nation. He understood that history is not destiny. This is a quote from his I Have a Dream speech.

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

Dr. King understood that you had to believe in the potential for the children of your enemy to transcend their past and become better people.

True freedom and liberation begins with the realization that we can honor what is best of the past, but we do not have to be slaves to it. We can recognize that God created us already free.

If you were to ask most characters in the Torah that we think of as Jews whether they were Jews, they would have no idea what you were talking about. They may have thought of themselves as Hebrews or Israelites, but certainly not Jews. That word does not appear until toward the end of the Hebrew Bible when Mordechai is called a Jew. That story occurs at least a fifteen hundred years after Abraham.

Why, then, are we are called Jews? The simple answer is that at the end of our last period of independence before the rise of the modern State of Israel, the part of the promised land we lived in was called Judea, which was named after Judah, one of Jacob’s children. For the rest of our history we have retained the name Jew, a descendant of Judah.

The biblical Judah, though familiar, is not very well known among Jews. He is not as famous as Moses or David. He is not even the most famous Judah. That would be Judah Maccabbee.

Why aren’t we the Mosesites or Davidites?

Judah does something very powerful and courageous. His father had sent him and his brothers to get food, because there was a famine in Canaan. Pharoah wants something in return. He wants Judah’s youngest brother as a hostage.

Judah begs the vice-chancellor of Egypt, the second to Pharaoh, for the life Benjamin. He does so not just to spare Benjamin, but his father Jacob, too. Under normal circumstances this would be admirable, but expected. These were not normal circumstances.

Judah probably has no great love for Benjamin. Benjamin is the new favorite of Jacob once Joseph disappeared. Judah also knows his father does not love him, or at least care much about him. Every family has its issues, but this family in particular had problems that would never resolve.

There is no advantage to Judah in pleading for his brother’s life. In fact there was a disadvantage. He was putting his own life on the line, even though he knew his father would not appreciate it. Judah could have saved himself and begun a new life in Egypt. Nonetheless he spoke up.

We know this story has a happy ending and that Joseph reveals as the person Judah was talking to. Judah had no reason to think that would happen.

Judah does the right thing simply because it was the right thing, even though he had nothing to gain and much to lose, even though he did these things on behalf of those he did not love and who did not love him.

He put aside his anger and frustrations and fears. This is genuine compassion. It is the absolute core of what it means to be Jewish.

I was thinking about this in regard to the morning blessings that we say every single day. They describe God’s attributes, such as freeing the bound, giving sight to the blind, returning dignity to those bowed over, guiding our steps, etc. These are all things we are supposed to emulate.

I finally noticed what isn’t there. Seeking vengeance against our enemies. Nurturing a grudge, no matter how righteous we are. Rebuking people we think have faults.

The list of kindnesses we are supposed to do each day are for both those we like and those we don’t.

Obviously we should defend ourselves if we are in danger, and showing kindness does not mean that we condone every behavior or put up with it when it is directed to us.

Judaism understands that hatred and jealousy only create more hatred and jealousy, and that anger, no matter how righteous, only creates more anger.

Judah said that when we make our decisions based on compassion and not ego, we can accomplish wonderful things that ultimately make our lives better.

Judah understood that Benjamin was not going to thank him for saving him. He knew his father would not give him any credit, but would just return to complaining about everything in the rest of his life that did not go well. He even knew that Joseph would never admit to being a brat who kind of deserved to get tossed in a pit.

Judah’s willingness to do the right things for others despite the difficulties it created for himself had a positive impact on his children. They become the tribe that survives. Their strength came from their compassion.

We are their descendants. We are still here as a people not just because of our allegiance to ritual, but because the core of our philosophy, our deepest understanding of what God wants, is the courage to do what is right for the whole world, not just ourselves. This is a critical idea that will help carry us into the future.

Calling ourselves Jews does not just mean that we belong to an ethnic or religious group, but that it is a mission statement for bringing sanity and calm into a world that really needs it.

      Everyone loves the first days of chanukah. Children are excited by what gifts they may get. Parents are excited that their children might appreciate the gifts they give. We can all eat just one more latke without guilt or heartburn. The lights, small as they are fill the room.
     The last days are another story. We can’t look a potato in the eye. The children know the good presents are over, or maybe they will get socks or school supplies. The thank yous to the parents have probably stopped, even if the perfect gift was given.
     This is precisely why the last days of chanukah are probably more important than the first. Let me explain. In the Talmud there is a debate over how many candles we should light each day. The school of Shammai says we start with eight, and then count downward. This way we would know how many days were left. The school of Hillel, which we follow in general, says that we start with one, and add each day. The idea is that we increase the amount of holiness over time, and not decrease it.
     This is a great metaphor for our lives. I feel bad for people who always so, “same old, same old”, or “been there, done that.” I feel worse for the people who have to live with them or listen to them. They are bored by just about everything.
     Judaism says that every moment of every day of our lives can be filled with holiness if we bring enthusiasm and appreciation for what we do. You may have eaten a thousand sandwiches, but you have never eaten the one you are about to have for lunch. That sandwich was made out of ingredients that will never occur again exactly that same way.
     This is only a way of thinking about things, and I chose the sandwich model because I am about to eat lunch, but you get the idea. If we say to ourselves each day that the world is newly created and that we have a chance to enjoy it in a way that no one before or after us could, then we will grow in appreciation for our lives, and not be bored by even the most mundane things.
     When you light those last chanukah candles, remember that we can increase the light, the holiness, in the world each day.

For most of Jewish history we were lived on pretty modest means. The average  meal was some kind of fried potato dish. Children played with little toys, usually a spinning top. The only light was a small candle.

We celebrate Chanukah by eating fried potatoes, playing with a top, all by candle light. Our celebration of Chanukah looks exactly the same as daily life over the last thousand years.

Why, then, is Chanukah such a big deal if we are doing something exactly the same as we would already be doing? On Passover we eat special foods. On Sukkot we spend time in a structure completely different from our house. There is no doubting that these are holidays. Chanukah, though, if no one told you it was a holiday, you may not know it was anything special.

I believe that is precisely the point. The real miracle of the Jewish people is ordinary people doing ordinary things under extraordinary circumstances. The story of the Maccabees was the struggle to live normal Jewish lives despite the efforts of our enemies. The Maccabees did not want to conquer the territories of the Assyrian Hellenists or take their possessions. They just wanted their daily lives back.

In the Warsaw ghetto during the Holocaust the Jews set up children’s theaters, and literary societies. Under horrifying conditions that would have broken the spirits of so many, the Jews of the ghetto went about their ordinary lives as best they could. They were determined to live as spiritually free human beings as long as they could.

Chanukah celebrates how miraculous it often is just to get through our day. There are so many challenges, whether the economy or illness or even the general anxieties of life. Chanukah is a reminder that every day is worth celebrating.