blogs/rabbi-huberman

Parashat: Acharei Mot

Which Goat are We?

Following a B’nai Mitzvah, I usually invite visitors to join me on the bimah, to ask questions and to comment on the service.

This provides an opportunity for guests and others to discuss prayers, rituals, and the weekly Torah portion.

It was always a positive exchange—until one Shabbat several years ago when I found myself being confronted by a visitor.

“This Prayer for our Country that you read,” the guest said. “What right do you have to offer your political opinion? Stick to religion.”

The person quoted the offending paragraph, and then stormed off.

I immediately opened my prayer book to page 148 and reread the passage in question:

“Creator of all flesh, bless the inhabitants of our country with Your spirit. May citizens of all races and creeds forge a common bond in true harmony to banish hatred and bigotry, and to safeguard the ideals and free institutions that are the pride and glory of our country.”

That prayer—or a version of it—has been recited in synagogues since the 14^th Century.

It was instituted, in part, to publicly reinforce that the local Jewish community supported the government and its head of state—just in case non-Jewish spies were monitoring.

It is also based on the concept that it is better to stand with a government, even when it is flawed, than to consider the alternative.

Two thousand years ago, Rabbi Chanina taught, “Pray for the welfare of the government, for were it not for the fear it inspires, every man would swallow his neighbor alive.” (Pirkei Avot 3:2)

The Book of Jeremiah shares the idea that even when Jews are in exile, “seek the welfare of the city to which I have exiled you and pray to the LORD in its behalf; for in its prosperity, you shall prosper.” (Jeremiah 29:7)

On that Saturday morning, I realized that it was not the prayer which had changed—rather how one person had personally interpreted it based on the prevalent political landscape.

This week’s Torah portion inspires us to consider this issue, as it introduces the commandment of “the two goats.”

The High Priest, as part of the Yom Kippur ritual, would choose two unblemished goats of which one would be deemed the sinful, or “negative,” and the other virtuous, or “positive.”

The community’s collective sins would be spiritually transferred to the “scapegoat,” which would be released into the wilderness, never to be heard from again.

The second goat, representing all the good within the community, was sacrificed to God.

And the nation would enter the new year with a clean slate.

I am currently in Calgary, Canada attending the Bat Mitzvah of a student I’ve been teaching on Zoom, whose mother I taught 27 years ago. It is a true blessing.

As Miriam and I reflected upon the message she would share tomorrow in synagogue, we began discussing which goat she would choose for life, as a young person on the cusp of adulthood.

We agreed that these days, many have become entrenched in the negative. “The world is a bad place.” “Antisemitism will never be alleviated.” “War is a fact of life.”

Like the Prayer for our Country, Torah and Judaism have remained consistent over the centuries, but from time to time, humanity shifts in its interpretation.

So, good or bad—which goat represents today’s truth?

As Miriam noted in her Bat Mitzvah speech, the negative goat represents the cynicism, pessimism, suspicion and mistrust.

But within each of us there exists a good goat representing friendship, trust, optimism and goodness.  She will declare to tomorrow that she will embrace “the good goat within.”

Indeed, this week’s parashah, in part, inspires us to reflect upon “the goat we have become.”

As Miriam and I finalized her Bat Mitzvah speech, we pondered which goat will ultimately win the battle.

I answered by adapting a tradition First Nations teaching which concludes, “It will be the goat that you feed.”

The Torah guides us this week toward a very simple choice as we engage with the world around us: Through our study, our actions and our advocacy, we can choose to turn "descent" into "ascent."

Like so many role models—Abraham, Ruth and Queen Esther in particular—we can choose to become upstanders, rather than bystanders.

Many ancient stories tell of the Sages asking the Elijah the Prophet when the Messiah will come.

Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi said to Elijah: “The Messiah lied to me, as he said to me: I am coming today, and he did not come.” Elijah responded that what he really said is: ‘He will come today, if you will hear my voice.’” (Psalms 95:7).

Let us be like the Sages of our tradition and the Miriams of today. For the pendulum will eventually swing back to goodness.

Jewish tradition teaches that at times it may appear easier to throw our hands up, choose blame and walk in the wilderness with the scapegoat.

It is much harder to open our hearts and choose optimism, positivity and trust—that path closer to God.

Indeed, if we are to survive, we must ultimately feed the better goat within—the goat of goodness, hopefulness and peace.

For ultimately, we have no choice.

Shabbat Shalom, v’kol tuv

Rabbi Irwin Huberman