What a week it has been. For those twenty-two families, whose loved ones were killed when a suicide bomber detonated his explosives at 10:30 PM on Monday evening in the foyer of the Manchester Arena; for the more than one hundred individuals injured, many of them critically, and their families; in a moment of terrifying destruction, their lives changed forever.^[1] Our hearts go out to them all. And we stand together with the courageous and defiant people of Manchester, of all ethnicities and religions, who stand in solidarity with one another and refuse to be terrorised and divided by the nihilistic absolutist ideology that drives young people like Salman Abedi to crush their own capacity for love and compassion, and their own will to live, and kill their fellow human beings so wantonly and indiscriminately.

Of course, none of this is new. These devastating acts of violence fuelled by the same or similar ideology are being perpetrated across the world all the time. And while this phenomenon has proliferated since 9/11, it did not begin with the terrorist attacks of that infamous day. Just think of the decades-long conflict in Somalia and Ethiopia, to take just one example.^[2] But, of course, when such an attack happens here in Britain, and when, like the assaults on July 7, 2005, it is perpetrated by a young person born and brought up in this country,^[3] we can’t simply confine the event to another distant domain far away from our everyday lives. Indeed, it is the very fact that such an attack erupts so horrifically in the midst of our everyday lives that is so terrifying. What could be more everyday than people travelling to and from work on the tube and bus networks, than commuters and tourists walking across Westminster Bridge, than young people attending a concert of their beloved pop idol.

For the past five days, the news and social media has been dominated with the bomb attack in Manchester. Rather than rehearse the main issues and concerns, I would like to approach the sense of horror we feel from another angle by reminding us of a very different incident that took place on Wednesday in the early hours of the morning, when a lorry on the M6 ploughed into a car, killing the five people in it.^[4] Road accidents, train and plane crashes – and on a more modest scale, a tragic domestic accident that sometimes takes place in the midst of a DIY task, or a massive heart attack or brain haemorrhage that kills instantly – all of these different incidents come out of nowhere, destroying people’s lives and the lives of their loved ones forever.

Going about our daily lives is a potentially lethal business. So, what to do? How should we, how do we respond to the awareness that our lives could end or be permanently disfigured at any moment? Some people choose, simply, not to think about it on the basis that we cannot control events that haven’t happened yet. This is a sensible strategy. Others, like to take a rationalistic approach and calculate the probability of a sudden devastating event happening to them or their loved ones on the basis of how infrequent such events are when put in the context of 63 million people in Britain going about their lives every day. This is also a very sensible strategy. Some people, tend to fatalism: ‘If your number is up, it’s up.’ Others, who do step out each day in the awareness of its potential dangers, find it hard to keep anxiety at bay. Some are quite frankly, terrorised by the way in which 24/7 news coverage and social media tends to become obsessively focused with gruesome events.

Life is a wilderness, with potential hazards at every turn. Each one of us is challenged to navigate a way through. This week we turn to the fourth book of the Torah, known in English as, ‘Numbers’. Its Hebrew name, B’midbar, comes from the first word that distinguishes it from all others. The first verse begins: Va-y’dabbeir Adonai el-Moshe – ‘The Eternal One spoke to Moses’ – a phrase repeated thousands of times in the Torah – and continues: b’midbar Sinai – ‘in the wilderness of Sinai’. So: Numbers/B’midbar. The two names tell us different things about the book. On the one hand, it is concerned with the organisation of the people for their journey to the land beyond the River Jordan. On the other hand, the narrative is located in the wilderness. And, significantly, the two dimensions of the book can only be understood in relation to another. It is because the rabble of ex-slaves, were confronted with the challenge of trekking through the wilderness, that it was necessary to organise them into military-type units for their journey. But as it turned out, the unfolding story reveals that the chaos of an unmapped terrain soon overwhelmed all attempts at order, as the people mumbled and grumbled, becoming an unruly mass of rebels.^[5]

It is not easy to keep the wilderness at bay. And yet, each one of us knows that unless we are going to confine ourselves indoors, preferably in a bungalow, preferably one without any gas or electrical appliances, and without any potential trip-hazards – that is, in an empty shell – we must find a way of living in the wilderness. For over six weeks, Jews across the world have been counting the omer each day in acknowledgement of the priestly practice in Temple times, when the priest would wave an omer, a sheaf of grain, from the Shabbat during Pesach for a period of seven weeks.^[6] The rabbinic sages who took responsibility for reconstructing Jewish life after the destruction of the Temple by the Romans in 70 CE, began counting the omer on the second day of Pesach in order to establish a fixed date for the festival that fell on the fiftieth day, the festival of Shavuot, ‘Weeks’. Today is the forty-sixth day of the omer. In May 2004, during a walk through a wood after heavy rainfall, conscious that it was the omer period marking the first journey of our newly-liberated ancestors, as I navigated the obstacles in my path, it seemed to me that my trek was a metaphor for my life’s journey. As it happens, I don’t like walking through woods. I much prefer to be on the top of the hills surveying the landscape. It feels safer being above it all – and it’s easier to work out where I’m going… Anyway, after the walk, I wrote this poem:

The endless journey / no pathways / just a tangle of weeds / and stinging nettles / stumps and burrows / ambushing my feet. / Treading gingerly / wincing as I stumble / no alternative / except to move on / I press ahead / no destination beckoning / just the lashes of the past / at my back / driving me ‘away from here / always away from here / away from here’.^[7] / But there is no escape / despite my zeal and haste / the old familiar terrain / stalking me relentlessly / every footfall that doesn’t slip / finding its twin / congealed in the mud / And yet / going round and round again / I keep stepping out / still hoping / I’ll reach the turning / that leads to Another Country.^[8]

Today, thousands of people are gathering in Rabin Square in Tel Aviv for a demonstration this evening. Organised by Shalom Achshav, ‘Peace Now’, they will be protesting against against fifty years of Israel’s occupation of the Palestinian territories, following the Six-Day War that began on June 5, 1967. The demonstration is a protest – and it is also a declaration of hope: ‘Two States, One Hope’ is the rallying cry.^[9] Even after decades of conflict, of wars and terror attacks, hundreds of thousands of Israelis and Palestinians refuse to give up hope; even those bereaved and injured on both sides, whose lives have been devastated by violence refuse to give up hope. Those Israelis and Palestinians who continue to keep faith with hope offer inspiration to us at this time – in the aftermath of the Manchester bomb, and as we approach the general election on June 8. We do not know what lies ahead and we cannot control the future. But in the face of terror, and in defiance of those determined to sow hatred and division, we can be equally determined to stand together in a spirit of solidarity and hope.

Of course, that is easier said than done. Each one of us has to find our own way of living in the wilderness and navigating its terrors. The challenge before all of us is to live, truly live, fully and deeply, with all the vitality we can muster, with a sense of hopefulness and our antennae alert, both, to the dangers of life, and also to its abundant blessings and joys. One of these blessings is the blessing of community. Community creates a context of meaning and purpose for our lives. Our ancestors, who wandered in the wilderness for forty years knew this. Every generation of our people since has known this. The people of Manchester, made up of a plurality of ethnicities and religions, have demonstrated during this past week what being a community means to them. We know this: the congregation of Brighton and Hove Progressive Synagogue; rejoicing week after week in our rainbow community of diverse individuals and families with different backgrounds, life situations and circumstances. There are no words of comfort that can in any way ameliorate the excruciating pain of those bereaved and injured by that bomb on Monday night. But acts of compassion and solidarity, the building of bonds of community, can enable people over time to find the courage and strength they need to carry on. May we all find the courage and the strength we need to embrace life and one another and to continue our journeys, wherever they may lead. And let us say: Amen.

Rabbi Elli Tikvah Sarah

Brighton and Hove Progressive Synagogue

Shabbat B’midbar

27^th May 2017 / 2^nd Sivan 5777

1. http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-manchester-40010124 ↑
2. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ethiopian%E2%80%93Somali_conflict ↑
3. http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-33253598 ↑
4. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2017/may/24/five-dead-in-motorway-crash-on-m6-near-stoke-on-trent ↑
5. The narratives of grumbling and rebellion begin in the third portion, B’ha’a lot’cha (Numbers 11 and 12), and continue in Sh’lach L’cha (Numbers 13 and 14), and Korach (Numbers 16 and 17). ↑
6. Emor, Leviticus 23: 9-16). ↑
7. A quotation from Franz Kafka. See: http://www.kafka.org/index.php?aid=172 ↑
8. Another Country is the title of a book by James Baldwin – my favourite author, when I was a teenager. It was first published in 1962 and was published as a ‘Penguin Classic’ in 2001. ↑
9. http://peacenow.org.il/en/two-states-one-hope ↑

We are what we eat! A soundbite – please excuse the pun – but very true.

During the last few decades, obesity has become a growing problem in the more prosperous nations across the world – not least, here in Britain. For quite a long time, the over-consumption of fatty foods was seen as the main problem. More recently, with comparative studies showing that those who live around the Mediterranean, whose diet includes high levels of olive oil, are much healthier than people here in Britain, the government has taken steps to legislate for a reduction in levels of sugar in manufactured foods and drinks. While it has become clear that consuming the right types of fat is very good for us, eating too much sugar is most definitely very bad.

At the same time that levels of obesity have been steadily increasing, in particular, among the poorer sections of the population, a preoccupation with healthy eating has become more evident amongst those with more disposable income. So, quite apart from the increasing identification of food allergies, in particular, concerning wheat and gluten, and aside from those who spend their lives perpetually dieting, more and more people are adopting new so-called ‘healthy eating’ programmes.

And then there is ethical eating. Levels of vegetarianism – Including amongst children – have increased enormously in recent years as people have become more concerned about animal welfare. And even amongst those who are not completely vegetarian, meat is forming a less predominant part of many people’s diets. Further, for those who can afford it, increasing numbers of those who continue to eat meat, as well as those who continue to consume fish, will only eat animal products that are organic and free-range. Of course, in addition to our concerns about other creatures, there are Fairtrade considerations that focus on supporting poorer countries that are dependent on a single crop, like bananas, coffee and chocolate. At the same time, and somewhat in conflict with this particular ethical commitment, there is also increasing concern to buy local and seasonal in order to avoid contributing to the problem of too much air-traffic criss-crossing the globe.

There was a time, when keeping kashrut, the Jewish dietary laws, set one apart from everyone else. Nowadays, when invited to a meal at someone’s house, one is bound to be asked about dietary requirements on the assumption that everyone is following one form of dietary regime or another.

Nevertheless, kashrut – from the root, Kaf Shin Reish to be ‘fit’ – remains a very distinctive dietary system. This is because the rationale for it is completely different from the rationale for any other form of diet. In the last section of this week’s Torah portion, Sh’mini, in Leviticus chapter 11, we read about living creatures that may and may not be eaten. They fall into categories: animals that, both, chew the cud and have a cloven hoof may be eaten, but those which have neither of these characteristics, or, only one of them, may not. And so, while the camel chews the cud, it does not have a cloven hoof, so is prohibited. Equally, the pig which has a cloven hoof but does not chew the cud is forbidden. Concerning those creatures that live in the waters, only those that have fins and scales may be eaten; not those that crawl on the seabed. All wild birds are prohibited. All creatures that go around on four paws are also proscribed. All creatures that swarm and crawl on the ground may not be eaten. Creatures that swarm and go around in all fours, but have jointed legs, enabling them to leap may be eaten – which makes locusts and crickets kosher.

In order to understand the regulations concerning which creatures may and may not be eaten we have to look at them in the context of the Book of Leviticus as a whole. From the outset, this third book of the Torah is preoccupied with the sacred. The Hebrew root, Kuf Dalet Shin, from which we derive words such as the noun, kodesh, ‘holiness’, the adjective, kadosh, ‘sacred’ or ‘holy’, and the post-biblical noun, kiddush, the sanctification ritual involving the fruit of the vine, means that which is set apart. And so, in Leviticus, the tribe of Levi is set apart from the other Israelite tribes to perform the service of the sanctuary, and amongst the Levites, the family of Aaron and his sons is set apart for their role as priests. Most importantly, the people Israel is set apart from the other peoples to serve the Eternal One. As we read in the Torah portion, Acharei Mot, at the beginning of Leviticus 18 (:1-5):

And the Eternal spoke to Moses, saying: / Speak to the Israelites, and say to them: / I am the Eternal your God. / The ways of the land of Egypt, where you dwelt, you shall not practice; nor the ways of the land of Canaan, where I am bringing you; neither shall you walk in their statutes. /My laws you shall practice, and My statutes you shall keep, to walk in them: I am the Eternal your God. / You shall therefore keep my statutes and my laws, which when the human being – ha-adam – does them, he shall live by them: I am the Eternal

According to the Torah, the Eternal One who is the Creator of the world and all its creatures, including ha-adam, the human being, has entered into a covenant with a particular people amongst humanity, a covenant based on the premise that this people will serve God – rather than serve other gods and follow the ways of other peoples.

So, what has all this got to do with food? Clearly, as we read in parashat Sh’mini, certain creatures that share characteristics in common are set apart for consumption. By following the dietary rules, Jewish people are set apart from others. This is particularly evident in the post-biblical development of the laws of kashrut, where, in addition to the foods themselves, the utensils and dishes they are served in are also set apart. In the first law code in the Torah, Mishpatim, at Exodus 23 (:18), we find the prohibition against boiling a kid in its mother’s milk, which is later repeated in the second version of the dietary laws set out in parashat R’eih, in Deuteronomy 14 (:13). Reflecting, perhaps, an ethical concern for the bond between mother and offspring, this rule was later interpreted as a proscription against eating meat products together with milk products, entailing the use of separate dishes for milk and meat. Curiously, fish with fins and scales that produce eggs and do not suckle their young may be eaten with milk products, but chickens that also produce eggs and do not suckle their young are treated as meat – and as with meat, the blood, which, according to the Torah, may not be eaten, ^[1] is drained away by the method of sh’chitah, ritual slaughter.^[2]

Given that eating is an activity we do more frequently than anything else, the impact of the observance of the laws of kashrut on our relationships with other people and other peoples is profound. Of course, as long as the majority of Jews were forced to live in segregated areas – ghettos – the fact that we followed distinct dietary regulations did not have repercussions for our relationship with others. During the course of the 19^th century, in the process of emancipation, as Jews were liberated from a segregated existence, they were presented with a new challenge: how to live as Jews in the world alongside others. Some Jewish communities chose to continue to live apart, and still largely do so to this day. Some, influenced by the ‘Jewish Enlightenment’ movement, the haskalah, which arose in Germany in the 18^th century, made the decision to lives as Jews ‘at home’ and citizens of the countries where they resided ‘in the street’.^[3] The rise of Progressive Judaism in the early 1800s in Germany was another response to changing social and political circumstances.^[4] Valuing the newly-found autonomy of the individual, the principal distinctive marker of the post-feudal world, Progressive Judaism – which encompasses particular ‘Reform’ and ‘Liberal’ manifestations – has refrained from dictating what Jews should and should not do in their own homes and in their own personal lives. It follows from this that the kashrut policy of progressive synagogues, like BHPS, is confined to our own premises. In this regard, it’s worth noting that this shul avoids the milk-meat issue completely by having a kitchen in which only permitted fish and vegetarian foods are prepared. But just as important, we invite people to bring these foods into the synagogue, and are not concerned with the utensils with which they are prepared at home, or whether or not the home concerned keeps the dietary laws. A progressive approach to kashrut, which encompasses contemporary ethical eating considerations, involves balancing the importance of expressing our unique identity as the Jewish people through our approach to food, with the value of connecting with others, and so, it also includes being able to eat in the homes of those who are not Jewish, and going out for a meal in a restaurant of any description. Fortunately, nowadays, as I mentioned earlier, anyone inviting someone to their home for a meal routinely asks them what they do and don’t eat, and many restaurants now serve a variety of dishes, encompassing vegetarian, vegan and gluten-free options.

I’ve mentioned the impact of the emancipation of the Jews of Europe in the 19^th century. But of course, in the midst of the 20^th century, the rise of Nazism suckered by centuries of anti-Jewish hatred in Christian Europe had an impact on Jewish existence of an entirely different kind. Tomorrow evening, Jewish communities across the world will gather to observe Yom Ha-Sho’ah, the day set aside by resolution of the K’nesset, the Israeli parliament, on 12 April 1951, for the commemoration of the extermination of six million Jews and the annihilation of tens of thousands of Jewish communities across Europe.^[5] We continue to live in the shadow of the Sho’ah. The harrowing and devastating events of those twelve long-short years of Nazi rule frame our existence as Jews today. For some Jews, retreat from being Jewish, and a rejection of being ‘different’ seems the only safe and sane option. Sadly, such a response may be seen to give Hitler a ‘posthumous victory’^[6]; there is no need for anyone to attempt to wipe us out, if we are prepared to disappear of our own accord. At the other end of the spectrum, there are those Jews, who choose to live exclusively within the Jewish world, limiting their circle of compassion and concern to the Jewish people. Among the myriad responses in between these two extremes, Progressive Judaism invites us to claim and express our Jewishness with pride, while connecting to others and celebrating our shared humanity. One of the ways we can do this is through a progressive Jewish approach to kashrut. May we be proud of our difference, our unique identity, so that we continue to live as Jews and also eager to engage with others, and participate fully as Jews in the life of the world. And let us say: Amen.

Rabbi Elli Tikvah Sarah

Brighton and Hove Progressive Synagogue

Shabbat Sh’mini

22^nd April 2017 / 26^th Nisan 5777

1. Because the ‘being’ – nefesh – of the animal is identified with the blood. See: Genesis 9:4 – also: Leviticus 7:26-27 and Lev. 17: 10-14. The fat – chelev – that surrounds the liver and vital organs also may not be eaten: Lev. 7:23-25. ↑
2. Sh’chitah – from the Hebrew root: Shin Chet Tet to ‘slaughter – is the Jewish method of ritual slaughter, involving the slitting of the animal’s throat with a sharp knife. Any animal that dies of itself and is n’veilah – a ‘carcass’ – and, consequently, ‘torn’ – t’reifah – may not be eaten. See: Lev. 7:24, 17:15, 22:8 and Exodus 22:12. ↑
3. In his article, ‘Haskalah. Be a Jew at home and a man in the street’, Rabbi Louis Jacobs mentions the mid-19^th century Russian maskil, that is ‘enlightenment’ thinker, Judah Leib Gordon, who proclaimed ‘the Haskalah ideal: “Be a Jew at homeand a man outside it.”’ http://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/haskalah/ See also: http://jewishencyclopedia.com/articles/7318-haskalah ↑
4. The most comprehensive account of the development of Progressive Judaism may be found in Response to Modernity. A History of the Reform Movement in Judaism by Michael A. Meyer (Oxford University Press, 1988). ↑
5. The Hebrew date of Yom Ha-Sho’ah is 27 Nisan. For more information, see: https://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/yom-ha-shoah-holocaust-memorial-day ↑
6. The Jewish philosophe Emil L. Fackenheim, articulated an additional commandment post-Sho’ah: ‘the authentic Jew of today is forbidden to hand Hitler yet another posthumous victory.’ See: The Jewish Return Into History. Reflections in the Age of Auschwitz and a New Jerusalem (Schocken Books, New York, p. 22). ↑

On Wednesday afternoon, three people were killed and 40 were injured, some of them seriously, when a terrorist ploughed the car he was driving into pedestrians on Westminster Bridge, and then went on to stab a police officer on duty at the Houses of Parliament.^[1] Sadly, one of the critically injured has since died. Just as on Thursday, refusing to be terrorised, Londoners continued to go about the business of their daily lives, so remembering the dead and injured and the bereaved families in our prayers, today I would like us to focus on the ordinary business of celebrating Shabbat together as a congregation.

So, what are we doing here this morning – and every Shabbat morning? I’m not asking, ‘why are we here?’ – a more complex question, with as many answers as there are individuals sharing this moment. There are at least three possible responses to the question about what we’re doing here: We are meeting together; we are praying; we are engaging in the Shabbat morning service. The first possible response doesn’t explain exactly what we are doing. The second, may not reflect the experience of everyone; praying is primarily a personal matter. The third possible response is more precise: we are engaging in the Shabbat morning service.

Now, it seems appropriate to ask the ‘why’ question: why are we doing this? Of course, there will be personal responses, like, ‘because I enjoy it’, or, ‘because this is how I spend most Shabbat mornings’. How might we frame our collective response? We are here participating in the Shabbat morning service because the synagogue organises weekly Shabbat services, and always has done since its inception in 1935 – indeed, at this particular address, 6 Lansdowne Road for the past 80 years.

But, of course, this synagogue is not alone. Jewish congregations across the country and around the world, of all denominations, hold Shabbat morning services. And while all these thousands of synagogues follow a similar order of service, each denomination produces its own prayer book – known as a siddur, the rabbinic Hebrew word for ‘order’ – reflecting its own cultural milieu, theological perspective and values. But each denomination does not simply have its own siddur for all time. Even Orthodox denominations that are less responsive to social change bring out a new edition of their siddur once in a while. In the case of Liberal Judaism here in Britain, since the movement was founded in 1902, a new siddur has been published every 25 to 30 years to ensure that the content of our services meets ‘the needs of the age,’ as Lily Montagu, one of the founders of Liberal Judaism, put it back in 1899. ^[2]

The siddur we are using today, Siddur Lev Chadash, meaning, ‘prayer book of a new heart’, heralded a major departure from previous Liberal prayer books, when it was published in 1995. On the one hand, it was more traditional than previous incarnations, adopting the traditional structure of Jewish services, and including more Hebrew. On the other hand, it was more radical, using an inclusive gender translation throughout; that is, language that does not speak, either, of God, or of our people, past and present, in exclusive male gender terms. So, gone were the references to God as ‘He’, a ‘father’ and a ‘king’, and to our ancestors, as our ‘fathers’.

But times continue to change and Siddur Lev Chadash no longer feels so up-to-date. So, the process has begun within the Liberal Judaism rabbinic conference towards producing a new siddur. For the first time, the siddur will be co-edited by two women rabbis, Lea Mulstein, Associate Rabbi of Northwood and Pinner Liberal Synagogue, and me. That in itself marks a new milestone. Further, the rabbinic conference siddur group has agreed some crucial innovations, most significantly, that the entire Hebrew text will be transliterated, the transliteration most likely to appear directly to the left of the Hebrew, with the English translation next to it. For many years, it was felt that the inclusion of transliteration would mean that people would be disinclined to make the effort to learn to read Hebrew. The current feeling is that the more familiar non-Hebrew readers are with reciting the Hebrew, the more likely they are to want to learn to read it. Another important change is that the English translation of the prayers will avoid archaic language – and so, for example, the word ‘blessing’ will be used instead of ‘benediction.’ We are also paying attention to the rubrics to ensure that they are less prescriptive. And so, for example options for standing and sitting will be introduced, and italics and musical signs will be omitted, so at any given service, congregations may choose which passages they will recite together and which ones they will sing.

At the moment, we are in the process of preparing a draft of the Shabbat morning service, with a view to circulating it to congregations in January 2018, for use on a monthly basis throughout that year. In this way, congregations will have a chance to get used to it before offering feedback. Meanwhile, we will get to work on the Erev Shabbat liturgy.

I’ve told you a little about the new siddur, which we hope will be published around 2022, but I still haven’t addressed the deeper question of what we are doing when we participate in the Shabbat morning service: what is actually going on when we recite ancient prayers, albeit edited and presented with new settings and translations? One way of beginning to address that question is to take a step back from our preoccupation with the service, and look at what the Torah has to say about the building of the mishkan, the tabernacle in the wilderness. For the past four weeks, following the account of the Revelation of the Eternal at Mount Sinai, each successive parashah (portion) has included material about the construction of the sacred tent in the wilderness, which is variously referred to as mikdash, a ‘sanctuary’, ohel mo’eid, a ‘tent of meeting’, and mishkan, a ‘dwelling’, usually translated as ‘tabernacle’. Let us remind ourselves of the reason given for this sacred dwelling-place. We read in the opening verses of parashat T’rumah:^[3]

V’asu li mikdash, v’shakhanti b’tokham

Let them make Me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them.

Let’s take a moment to reflect on the import of this verse. The dramatic scene of Revelation concludes with Moses ascending the mountain and disappearing into the cloud. As we read in the closing verses of parashat Mishpatim:^[4]

Then Moses went up into the mountain, and cloud covered the mountain. / And the glory of the Eternal dwelt upon Mount Sinai, and the cloud covered it six days; and on the seventh day God called to Moses out of the midst of the cloud. / The appearance of the glory of the Eternal was like devouring fire on the top of the mountain in the eyes of the Israelites. / Moses entered into the midst of the cloud, and went up into the mountain; Moses was on the mountain 40 days and 40 nights.

It’s an evocative description, which turns on one particular phrase: ‘And the glory of the Eternal dwelt upon Mount Sinai’ – Va-yishkon k’vod Adonai al-har Sinai. Throughout the narrative of Revelation, the top of the mountain is the dwelling-place of the mysterious, elusive, ineffable, and yet commanding Eternal One. Nothing surprising about that. Where else would you expect a mysterious presence to reside if not on the top of a mountain wreathed in cloud – which is why where the Torah takes us next seems so remarkable. I repeat: V’asu li mikdash, v’shakhanti b’tokham – ‘Let them make Me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them.’ As long as the Eternal exists only in relation to the Eternal then it makes sense to describe that Eternal aloneness as utterly apart, above and beyond the arena of human endeavour. This state of utter aloneness is beautifully described at the beginning of Adon Olam, the song usually sung at the end of the Shabbat morning service: Adon olam asher malakh, b’terem kol y’tzir nivra – literally: ‘Eternal Lord who reigned alone before every form was created.’ By contrast, when we read the opening verses of the Torah, in parashat B’reishit, it becomes apparent from the narrative that as soon as the Eternal engaged in the work of creation, the lone reign of the Eternal came to an end. From then onwards, the Eternal existed in relation to the Earth and everything on it, and set about trying to establish a reliable relationship with humanity. And so, we read in the third parashah, Lekh L’kha, that after a couple of failed attempts at relating with humanity as a whole – the tales of the flood and the tower of Babel related in parashat No’ach^[5] – the Eternal sent out a call.^[6] The response to that call came from Abraham and Sarah,^[7] and so began the story of the ancestors of the Israelites and their journeys with the Eternal.

The Eternal exists in the nexus of relationships formed when people create community. From a Jewish perspective, the context of community is paramount – which brings me back to what we are doing here today, to this Shabbat morning service. The prayer book that preceded Siddur Lev Chadash was called ‘Service of the Heart, published in 1967. Centuries after the descendants of the Israelites entered the land beyond the Jordan (c. 1250 BCE), the mobile mishkan was replaced by the first Temple in Jerusalem built by King Solomon (c. 970 BCE), with sacrifices offered by the priests on behalf of the people as a service to the Eternal. When the second – and last – Temple was destroyed by the Romans in 70 CE, avodah, the ‘service’ of the Eternal in the form of animal sacrifice came to be replaced by what the early rabbis called avodat ha-lev, ‘service of the heart’– that is, ‘prayer’^[8] – not personal prayer, but rather, liturgy, the framework of communal prayer. So, when we engage as a congregation in a Shabbat morning service, or in any one of the three services daily services, or a festival service, as we build and rebuild our relationships with one another as a community, we also enable and reinforce the relationship of the community with the Eternal.

This week’s parashah is a double portion, Va-yakheil-P’kudei, which concludes the Book of Exodus with a description of the setting up of the mishkan, following its completion, on the first day of the first month of the second year of the journey in the wilderness. The account closes with the words: ‘So Moses finished the work.’ – Va-y’khal Moshe et-ha-m’lakhah ^[9]– mirroring the language used to describe how the Eternal ‘finished’ the work of creation.^[10] Martin Buber draws our attention to seven correspondences between the first narrative of creation and the account of the building of the mishkan.^[11] As God created the world and everything in it, so it is our task to create community.

But that’s not all. The last four verses of the Book of Exodus echo the verses I quoted earlier from the end of the narrative of Revelation about the Eternal dwelling on Mount Sinai – only the location has shifted:^[12]

The cloud covered the tent of meeting, and the glory of the Eternal filled the tabernacle. /Then Moses was not able to enter into the tent of meeting, because the cloud dwelt upon it, and the glory of the Eternal filled the tabernacle. / Whenever the cloud was taken up over the tabernacle, the Israelites journeyed on their journeys. / But if the cloud was not taken up, then they did not journey until the day it was taken up. / The cloud of the Eternal was upon the tabernacle by day, and there was fire within it by night, in the sight of all the house of Israel, throughout all their journeys.

Just as the concluding verses of the tale of Revelation tell us that the Eternal dwelt in cloud and fire on the top of Mount Sinai, so as the Book of Exodus closes we have a vision of the Eternal, whose palpable nearness is signalled by ‘the cloud’ – he’anan – that ‘dwelt’ on the tabernacle by day and the ‘fire’ – eish – that burned within it at night. The Eternal: a mystery, and yet, a presence, residing in the midst of the community, and journeying and resting with the people, whose community-building efforts have brought the Eternal down from the fathomless heights into their lives. Every time we consciously gather together as a community, reinforcing our bonds with one another, we also invite the Eternal to dwell in our midst. May the ineffable presence of the Eternal give us strength and courage, hope and purpose on all our journeys through the wilderness of Life. And let us say: Amen.

Rabbi Elli Tikvah Sarah

Brighton and Hove Progressive Synagogue

Shabbat Va-yakheil-P’kudei

25^th March 2017 / 27^th Adar 5777

1. 22.03.17. See: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/live/uk-39355505 ↑
2. The Jewish Quarterly Review, 1899. ↑
3. T’rumah, Exodus 25:8 ↑
4. Mishpatim, Ex. 24:15-18 ↑
5. No’ach, Genesis 6:9-9:17; 111-9. ↑
6. Lekh L’kha, Gen. 12:1. ↑
7. Gen. 12:4-5. ↑
8. See: quotation from the Talmud in the inside cover of the 1967 prayer book:Talmud Bavli, Ta’anit 2a. ↑
9. P’kudei, Exodus 40:33. ↑
10. B’reishit, Genesis 2:1-2. ↑
11. See Studies in Shemot – Exodus by Nehama Leibowitz. WZO, 1983, pp.497-481. ↑
12. P’kudei, Exodus 40: 34-37. ↑

There has been a lot in the news recently about law. As soon as he got into office, President Trump started signing a series of ‘executive orders’ to put his campaign promises into practice. The executive order that has hit the headlines concerns the banning of any immigration from seven predominantly Muslim countries.^[1] More of that in a moment. But first, what is a presidential executive order? A website providing information from the US government explains that: ‘A presidential executive order is a directive issued to federal agencies, department heads, or other federal employees by the President of the United States… Thirty days after being published in the Federal register, executive orders take effect. While they do bypass the U.S. Congress and the standard legislative law-making process, no part of an executive order may direct agencies to conduct illegal or unconstitutional activities.’^[2] ‘President George Washington issued the first executive order in 1789. Since then, all U.S. presidents have issued executive orders…’ Apparently, President Franklin D Roosevelt signed 3522.^[3]

So, a presidential executive order cannot contravene the American constitution. The particular executive order in question, while banning the entry for 90 days of people from Iran, Iraq, Libya, Somalia, Sudan, Syria and Yemen, also blocked the entry of all refugees to the United States for 120 days, and barred Syrian refugees indefinitely. In a disturbing irony lost on President Trump, he issued this particular executive order on Friday, 27 January – the anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz by the Red Army in 1945, and designated as National Holocaust Memorial Day in Britain. The next day, the New York Times reported – and I quote: ‘A federal judge in Brooklyn came to the aid of scores of refugees and others who were trapped at airports across the United States on Saturday after an executive order signed by President Trump, which sought to keep many foreigners from entering the country, led to chaotic scenes across the globe. The judge’s ruling blocked part of the president’s actions, preventing the government from deporting some arrivals who found themselves ensnared by the presidential order. But it stopped short of letting them into the country or issuing a broader ruling on the constitutionality of Mr. Trump’s actions…’^[4]

The legal challenges have continued. That very same day the American Civil Liberties Union, quoting the Supreme Court, argued that Trump’s executive order, ‘violates “the clearest command of the Establishment clause” [of the American constitution]’, which states that ‘one religious denomination cannot be officially preferred over another’.^[5] For nearly 100 years, the American Civil Liberties Union has been , as its website puts it, ‘our nation’s guardian of liberty, working in courts, legislatures, and communities to defend and preserve the individual rights and liberties that the constitution and the laws of the United States guarantee everyone in this country.’^[6] By identifying President Trump’s executive order banning immigration from predominantly Muslim countries as unconstitutional, the ACLU is demonstrating that its concern for human rights extends beyond the rights of US citizens. Indeed, since the executive order was issued, the ACLU has been taking up the cases of individual plaintiffs, who have been detained by the US government and threatened with deportation even though they have valid visas to enter the United States, arguing that – and I quote: ‘Their continued detention based only on the executive order violates their fifth Amendment procedural and substantive due process rights as well as US immigration statutes.’^[7]

Isn’t the law marvelous – that is, as long as the legal system in question protects human rights. Hopefully, Trump’s excesses will be curtailed by the American constitution. Meanwhile, here in Britain, the triggering of article 50, and with it, the two-year process of disengagement from the European Union, threatens to involve abandoning a swathe of EU laws related to employment rights. These laws include: paid holidays, equal treatment for part-time workers, rights for new mothers, 18 weeks’ parental leave, equal pay for equal work, limits on how long an employee can be forced to work, employers’ responsibility to keep workers informed, health and safety, workers’ protection if the employer is bought out – and last but by no means least: protection from discrimination on the grounds of religion, sexuality, gender reassignment status, belief, and age. Prior to EU legislation, the UK only enacted laws for race and gender discrimination.^[8] Let’s hope that given the most practical approach to disengagement from the EU is likely to involve as a first step, incorporating EU law into UK law, there is a chance that a majority in the House of Commons will ensure that all employment rights are retained.

This week’s Torah portion, Mishpatim, which begins at Exodus chapter 21, is largely taken up with detailing mishpatim, ‘laws’; specifically, laws related to slavery, injury, property, and moral behaviour. It is telling that directly following the account of Divine Revelation at Mount Sinai described in last week’s parashah, Yitro, which includes Aseret Ha-Dibbrot, the ‘Ten Utterances’ better known as the ‘Ten Commandments’,^[9] the editors of the Torah inserted a code of law. Even more telling, this insertion turns out to be an interruption, with Mishpatim concluding by returning to the Sinai narrative. We learn that after relating all the words of the Eternal to the people, Moses read Seifer Ha-B’rit, the Book of the Covenant aloud, gaining their consent, before once again, climbing up the mountain.^[10]

The word ‘revelation’ in a religious context refers to the mysterious phenomenon by which the Divine communicates to the human. And yet, in a Jewish context, mystery very quickly gives way to the material. It’s not just that it’s impossible to describe a mystery – the burning bush, that is not consumed by the flames,^[11] the smoking mountain, shuddering with thunder and streaked by lightning.^[12] From a Jewish perspective, the Eternal One breaks into our lives for a very particular concrete purpose: in order to instruct us about how to live as a community and as a society. Apart from the compelling narrative that extends from two accounts of creation through the end of forty years of wilderness wandering, the Torah is packed full of laws that are by definition intended to compel our behaviour and structure and regulate our lives from birth to death, from day to day, week to week, month to month, year to year. Not surprisingly, the laws we find in Mishpatim and in the other legal codes of the Torah, reflect the ancient Near Eastern context in which they were formulated, with its patriarchal social mores – hence, Mishpatim opens by relating the laws concerning ownership of Hebrew slaves.^[13] On the other hand, the Torah’s legal codes also include laws specifically related to social justice and ethical conduct that transcend time and space. And so, for example, Mishpatim includes this series of rules:^[14]

You shall not subvert the rights of your needy in their disputes. / Keep far from a false charge; do not bring death on those who are innocent and in the right, for I will not acquit the wrongdoer. / Do not take bribes, for bribes blind the clear-sighted and upset the pleas of those who are in the right. / You shall not oppress a stranger, for you know the inner-being – nefesh – of the stranger, having yourselves been strangers in the land of Egypt / Six years you shall sow your land and gather in its yield; but in the seventh you shall let it rest and lie fallow. Let the needy among your people eat of it, and what they leave let the wild beasts eat. You shall do the same with your vineyards and your olive groves. / Six days you shall do your work, but on the seventh you shall cease in order that your ox and your ass may rest, and your servant and stranger may be refreshed – v’yinafeish.

Progressive Judaism, a generic term for all the movements affiliated to the World Union of Progressive Judaism,^[15] including Liberal Judaism, has a questioning relationship to the edifice of Jewish law, halakhah, first devised by the rabbinic sages, who drew on the legislation found in the Torah to construct a framework for Jewish life after the destruction of the Temple by the Romans in 70 CE.^[16] For Progressive Judaism, the traditions we have inherited, ‘have a vote, but not a veto,’^[17] and individuals are empowered to make ‘informed choices’ about how to live their lives as Jews.^[18] Nevertheless, apart from maintaining a host of Jewish rites in a communal context – not least those associated with Shabbat and the festivals – Progressive Judaism also subscribes to the basic premise of Jewish teaching that what we do matters more than what we think and believe, and that it is our responsibility to engage with our inheritance to meet the needs of Jewish life today. As the Liberal Judaism website puts it:^[19]

Liberal Judaism affirms the dynamic, developing character of our Jewish religious tradition. Questing and questioning, Liberal Judaism is an authentic and modern form of Judaism, rooted in a deep and meaningful engagement with Jewish texts, values, culture and history. We are a movement with a sense of purpose, engaged in community life, study, spirituality and social action. We believe in personal freedom and responsibility and the shared and collective bonds that unite us as Jews and members of humanity.

This Shabbat is designated as Shabbat Sh’kalim because in addition to the weekly portion, we also read a passage at the beginning of parashat Ki Tissa, Exodus chapter 30,^[20] which describes the census taken of males aged 20 years and over, that is, those eligible for military service, which involved each man giving a half shekel for the upkeep of the sanctuary as an atonement offering. Given that there hasn’t been a sacred place in Jewish life for nearly 2000 years, this poll tax has no contemporary relevance. However, demonstrating what it means to have a ‘meaningful engagement with Jewish texts’, for several years now the Friends of Progressive Judaism, have reconfigured Shabbat Sh’kalim as an opportunity to fundraise in support of fledgling and developing progressive congregations, in particular, in Eastern Europe.^[21] Progressive Judaism, Liberal Judaism never stands still.

Mishpatim tells us that when Moses read read Seifer Ha-B’rit, the Book of the Covenant to the people, they responded: na’aseh v’nishma, ‘we will do and we will listen.’^[22] From a progressive Jewish perspective, as we reflect on the teachings we have received in the context of our lives today, we might say nishma v’na’aseh, ‘we will listen and we will do.’^[23] Nevertheless, action remains at the heart of our Liberal Jewish engagement at all levels – at home, in the synagogue, and in the wider society. Currently, the focus of much engagement across the Jewish community here in Britain centres on ensuring that British law, specifically immigration legislation, responds to the desperate need of those fleeing persecution and conflict in search of refuge. Just this past week, prompted by JCORE’s ‘let the children in’ campaign^[24], I posted letters to local MPs and the Leader of Brighton and Hove City Council, composed by a group of us here at BHPS, calling on them to urge the government to fully implement the Dubs amendment to the Immigration Act,^[25] which committed the government to take around 3000 of the 90,000 loan child refugees in European countries. So far, just 350 children have been brought into the UK. Meanwhile, closer to home, our weekly collection of toiletries and non-perishable foods for local refugees supported by Brighton Voices in Exile continues to meet an urgent need.

No doubt, the reason why Jews have always been disproportionately involved in social justice campaigns is because within Jewish teaching ethical values are codified into law and so linked directly to practice – as demonstrated in the legal code we find in Mishpatim. May we feel inspired by that powerful recipe for action to do what we can to help to resolve the urgent human rights issues of our day. And let us say: Amen.

Rabbi Elli Tikvah Sarah

Brighton and Hove Progressive Synagogue

Shabbat Mishpatim

5^th February 2017 / 29^th Sh’vat 5777

1. https://www.nytimes.com/2017/01/27/us/politics/trump-syrian-refugees.html ↑
2. http://usgovinfo.about.com/od/thepresidentandcabinet/a/Presidential-Executive-Orders.htm ↑
3. Ibid. ↑
4. https://www.nytimes.com/2017/01/28/us/refugees-detained-at-us-airports-prompting-legal-challenges-to-trumps-immigration-order.html?_r=0 ↑
5. https://www.aclu.org/blog/speak-freely/well-see-you-court-why-trumps-executive-order-refugees-violates-establishment ↑
6. https://www.aclu.org/about-aclu ↑
7. Counsel for the plaintiffs in one particular case, Darweesh vs. Trump, includes alongside the American Civil Liberties Union, the International Refugee Assistance Project at the Urban Justice Center, the National Immigration Law Center, Yale Law School’s Jerome N. Frank Legal Services Organization and the firm Kilpatrick Townsend & Stockton. https://www.aclu.org/cases/darweesh-v-trump ↑
8. http://strongerunions.org/2016/02/25/10-workers-rights-brexit-would-risk/ ↑
9. Exodus 20:1-14. ↑
10. Ex. 24:1-18. ↑
11. Ex. 3:2-3. ↑
12. Ex. 19:16-19. ↑
13. Ex. 21: 1-11. ↑
14. Ex. 23: 6-12. ↑
15. http://wupj.org/ ↑
16. The first code of rabbinic law is the Mishnah, edited c. 200 CE. ↑
17. http://www.jewishrecon.org/resource/who-reconstructionist-jew ↑
18. ‘Informed choice’ has been the catch phrase of Liberal Judaism. See my Compelling Commitments: A New Approach to Living as a Liberal Jew (Liberal Judaism, London, 2007). Another version of this paper is published in my book, Trouble-Making Judaism, chapter 10, ‘Compelling Commitments and the Impulse for Engagement’ (David Paul Books, London, 2012). ↑
19. http://www.liberaljudaism.org/who-we-are/what-is-liberal-judaism/ ↑
20. Ex. 30:: 11-16 ↑
21. http://www.fpjie.org.uk/shabbat-shekalim-2017/ ↑
22. Exodus 24:7. ↑
23. See publications cited in note 15 above. ↑
24. http://www.jcore.org.uk/let-the-children-in ↑
25. For details of the ‘let the children in’ campaign, see: Http://www.jcore.org.uk/let-the-children-in Lord Alfred Dubs, who drafted the amendment to the Immigration Act came to Britain on the kindertransport, which brought 10,000 young, mostly Jewish, refugees to Britain from Germany and Czechoslovakia in the late 1930s. ↑

A ‘Reality TV’ star has become President of the United States. Is it a joke? When ‘President Trump’ was featured on ‘The Simpsons’ in the year 2000 the spectre was supposed to make us laugh – and perhaps also, to make us think… In an episode, entitled, ‘Bart to the Future’, Bart Simpson is subjected to a scary vision of his life 30 years on, when he is a failed musician, no one wants to hear, and Donald Trump has become President of the United States. Can we ever know what the future holds? Sometimes, absurdities can become realities. CBS News reminded everyone about the episode the morning after Donald Trump declared victory in the Presidential election.^[1] So now, we are not laughing – perhaps because we know that ‘Reality TV’ is for the most part, ‘Fantasy TV’, and Donald Trump is a fantasist, who is now occupying the most powerful political office on the planet. ‘America first’? Donald Trump first. The question is, what will it take for him to feel he has satisfied his megalomania? Is a megalomaniac ever satisfied?

Trump does not appear to be an ideologue, he is far too self-centred to have a vision that is more than a reflection of his own vanity. But he has tapped into the discontent and real suffering of millions of Americans, left behind by globalisation, and managed to persuade them that he is their champion, their saviour. Whether or not he does fulfil any of his promises to the people of the discarded ‘rustbelt’ and to the rural poor, Trump has achieved in their adulation exactly what his ego requires: to be the star of the greatest show on earth – which is probably why he was so determined to promote ‘alternative facts’ about the turnout at his inauguration. Of course, despite the pictures to the contrary, despite the empty viewing stands, as he and his hapless wife, Melania, processed through the streets, in Trump’s view, his inauguration attracted the highest number of attendees in US history.^[2]

If this was really all there was to the election of Donald J Trump as 45^th President of the United States, perhaps it would simply provide a nauseating comment on the dire state of political discourse that such a narcissist, with no experience of public service, could assume the Presidency. But, of course, President Trump is not alone. He has surrounded himself with people of strong convictions, who seem to be committed to a very narrow vision of America – not least, Vice President Mike Pence, an evangelical Christian, who would re-impose the hetero-normative family ideal on the nation, repeal hard-won LGBT rights, and make abortion a crime once again. And then, let us not forget that the narcissist fantasist is also a successful billionaire businessman, a wheeler-dealer, who is used to getting his own way, and make no mistake, he means business. He has already issued several executive orders to demonstrate his determination to put his campaign promises into practice – which have included an indefinite ban on Syrian refugees entering the country.^[3]

So, although a gift to comedians and cartoonists and late-night TV show hosts, President Trump also poses a threat to the people of the United States, and possibly to the entire world. Perhaps, ‘America first’ nationalism is just a game to Donald Trump, a way of keeping his supporters happy – after all, he only got to be a billionaire by engaging in global capitalism; a crucial ‘fact’ that they seem to have missed. But whether or not he means it, Trump has incited and aroused nationalistic and racist sentiments amongst those who need someone to blame, and boosted the nationalist and racist elements that already exist in American society – like the Ku Klux Klan.

Sounds familiar? Yesterday, was National Holocaust Memorial Day, first instituted by the Labour government in 2001.^[4] The date was carefully chosen: the anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz by the Red Army on 27 January 1945. One of the main purposes of the day is, of course, remembrance of the Sho’ah, so that we never forget the Nazi programme to annihilate the Jews of Europe, and in order that we also remember the other groups targeted by Nazi Aryan policy, in particular, the Roma, homosexuals, the disabled, and political opponents. But just as important, the commemoration of the Holocaust each year also highlights genocides perpetrated since 1945, and is supposed to remind us of the need to be vigilant to ensure that we do everything we can to prevent further incarnations of Nazism in the future.^[5] Of course, Trump is not a new Hitler, and it is doubtful that his xenophobia will be translated into genocide – although he relishes the prospect of torturing terrorist suspects^[6] and often speaks of ‘annihilating’ ISIS.^[7] Moreover, the circumstances in which Hitler rose to power, won a democratic election and became Chancellor of Germany in 1933 are not the same circumstances that led to the election of Donald Trump as President of the United States. Nevertheless, there is a striking parallel. Ultimately, as was the case with Hitler in Germany, Trump’s ability to woo those who felt marginalised and left behind, determined the outcome of the election. Without the electoral college votes of former Democratic states like Pennsylvania and Michigan^[8], where as Trump put it in his inaugural address, there are ‘rusted-out factories scattered like tombstones across the landscape’^[9], he would not have been elected to the office of President. That millions of people in the richest and most powerful nation on earth do not benefit from that prosperity and have been abandoned is a shocking indictment on that society and the much professed ‘American dream’.

In this week’s Torah portion, Va-eira, we find the second instalment in the saga of the Exodus, in which Moses’ encounter with the Eternal at the burning bush in the wilderness is concluded and he returns to Egypt with his mission to persuade Pharaoh to free the Israelites from their bondage. A Shabbat sermon would not be complete without a connection being made with the parashah. And so, it is tempting to portray Trump as cast in the same mould as the Pharaoh, who ‘did not know Joseph’^[10] – and indeed, like Pharaoh, who saw the Israelites as a threat,^[11] Trump has demonised minorities, in particular, Mexicans, Hispanics in general, and Muslims, and is determined to execute policies to keep them out. But there is an important difference. Pharaoh did not have to make appeals for public support when he decided to kill all the firstborn Hebrew baby boys.^[12] Pharaoh was an autocrat, with absolute power, presiding over an autocracy. Like it or not, Trump has become President of the United States because he won a democratic election – and he won that election against the odds, even winning states that had previously voted Democrat, because he spoke directly to those who felt they had been ignored by previous administrations, Democrat and Republican. A special Channel 4 report the day before Trump’s inauguration was very telling. Matt Frei spoke to a miner in West Virginia, who voted for Trump although he had always voted Democrat in the past, who told him that Trump had been the first presidential candidate to visit them since JFK.^[13]

While linking Trump to Pharaoh may not get us very far in our efforts to make sense of the Trump phenomenon, our parashah has other important lessons to teach us, when we turn from the powerful to the powerless. After all, the message of Moses’ encounter with the Eternal at the burning bush is all about the slaves. At the beginning of this week’s portion, Va-eira, the Divine Revelation concludes with these promises of liberation:^[14]

“Therefore, say to the Israelites: ‘I am the Eternal, and I will bring you out from under the burdens of Egypt, and I will deliver you from their bondage, and I will redeem you with an outstretched arm, and with great judgements; / And I will take you to me for a people, and I will be to you a God, and you shall know that I am the Eternal your God, who brought you out from under the burdens of Egypt. / And then I will bring you into the land concerning which I lifted up my hand to give it to Abraham, to Isaac and to Jacob; and I will give it to you for a heritage: I am the Eternal.’”

Trump has also made promises. But the comparison here is not between the Divine and Trump – although, no doubt, Trump sees himself as a messiah-like figure. Moses, who unlike Trump, did not have the gift of the gab, who was modest and self-effacing and full of humility, has the task of conveying a powerful message to Pharaoh and to the slaves:^[15] A message that there is a power greater than material power, greater than the mightiest autocrat; a power that ignites and liberates the human spirit. Immediately after this stunning utterance, at the very next verse, we read: ‘Then Moses spoke thus to the Israelites; but they did not listen to Moses because of shortness of spirit – mi-kotzer ru’ach – and because of hard bondage – mei-avodah kashah.’^[16] Those words say all are that needs to be said about what it feels like to be oppressed. But, of course, that is not the end of the story. Ostensibly, Moses had been charged by the Eternal with the task of persuading Pharaoh to free the slaves: ‘Let My people go that they may serve Me’.^[17] However, ultimately, the slaves had to participate in their own liberation if they were to be free. And so, as we read in next week’s parashah, Bo, when it came to the final plague, the death of the firstborn, the only way the Israelites could be saved was by saving themselves – by taking the blood of a lamb and putting it on the doorposts and lintels of their houses, so that the Eternal would pass over their houses and their firstborn would not be killed; hence the inauguration of the Festival of ‘Passover’, Pesach, to celebrate the liberation.^[18]

The slaves went on a journey: a journey from kotzer ru’ach, ‘shortness of spirit’ to confidence; from hopelessness to readiness to be free. Only then, could they journey out of Egypt and through the wilderness to a land in which their descendants would serve the Eternal by establishing a just society. In the story of the Exodus, we are confronted with two visions of power: the self- interested, self-aggrandizing power of Pharaoh that is all about domination and control, and the power of the Divine that empowers the powerless. Living in a democracy and not an autocracy, like any demagogue of the modern age, including Hitler, Trump has appealed to the masses and has manipulated them in order to get hold of the reins of power. It looks like he has won. But meanwhile, there have been Moses figures and Miriams at work; ordinary people, inspired by the values of justice and equality, determined to defend and extend human rights, who reject nationalism and racism, sexism and homophobia.

Some people have dismissed the protest marches led by women that took place the day after Trump’s inauguration on the grounds that they had no discernible goals, and that all they could achieve was momentary publicity and a transitory ‘high’. But that response misses the point entirely. Demonstrating solidarity across races, religions and ethnicities, sexualities and genders, those demonstrations in Washington, where 500,000 people gathered, and in towns and cities across the United States and in many parts of the globe,^[19] conveyed a compelling message. A narcissistic megalomaniac will not improve the lives of the poor and discarded; only people working together can change the world. Perhaps, then in this sense only, Trump’s election has achieved something. By confounding expectations and challenging the political machinery of business as usual, Trump has sparked a reaction, which has reminded people of their responsibility for the society in which they live. May we yet see that sense of responsibility demonstrated by the American people – and by all peoples in every country across the Earth – in the coming year, so that policies fuelled by xenophobia and bigotry are contested. And may the new month of Sh’vat that begins today with its promise of new life as Tu Bishvat, the New Year for Trees approaches, inspire us with new hope as we face the challenges that lie ahead. And let us say: Amen.

Rabbi Elli Tikvah Sarah

Brighton and Hove Progressive Synagogue

Shabbat Va-eira

28^th January2017 / Rosh Chodesh Sh’vat 5777

1. http://www.cbsnews.com/news/this-episode-of-the-simpsons-predicted-a-president-trump/ ↑
2. http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/americas/donald-trump-inauguration-what-did-he-say-a7539831.html ↑
3. http://www.bbc.co.uk/newsround/38781496 ↑
4. http://hmd.org.uk/page/about-hmdt ↑
5. http://hmd.org.uk/ ↑
6. http://www.cbsnews.com/videos/trump-talks-torture-of-terrorism-suspects/ ↑
7. Trump has repeated this so many times that a ‘USA Politics Now poll’ on 21 November 2016, asked the question, ‘Do you support Trump annihilating ISIS?’ http://usapoliticsnow.com/live-poll-support-trump-annihilating-isis/ ↑
8. The other states that went Republican: Wisconsin, Iowa, Ohiohttp://www.bbc.co.uk/news/election-us-2016-37889032 ↑
9. https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/post-politics/wp/2017/01/20/donald-trumps-inaugural-address-full-text-as-prepared-for-delivery/?utm_term=.bf4123bc06f7 ↑
10. Sh’mot, Exodus 1:8. ↑
11. Ex. 1:9-11. ↑
12. Ex. 1:15. ↑
13. https://www.channel4.com/news/taking-trump-home-to-west-virginia 86% in West Virginia voted for Trump – the highest support for Trump in the election. West Virginia is the second poorest state in the Union. Presidential candidate, J.F. Kennedy visited in 1960. ↑
14. Ex. 6:6-8. ↑
15. Ex. 3:11; 4:1; 10. ↑
16. Ex. 6:9. ↑
17. Ex. 9:1 ↑
18. Ex. 12:1 ff. ↑
19. https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2017/jan/22/two-million-protest-against-trumps-inauguration-worldwide ↑