blogs/rabbi-huberman

God Does Not Want Killing! 

Millenials and a Call for Renewal

It is a sad fact that often some of the most heinous crimes committed around the world are perpetrated by those with references to God on their lips.

Often, the last words uttered by an Islamic terrorist before claiming the lives of innocents are "God is great."

It is not unheard of for Christian radicals to take the lives of medical professionals based on the justification that these acts are committed "in the name of God."

Judaism has not been immune from this. The life of one of Israel's greatest heroes, Prime Minister Yitzchak Rabin (z'l), was erased by Yigal Amir, who at his trial defended his action based "on religious grounds."

It has not been lost on today's millennial generation that so much death, injury and destruction around the world, has been undertaken "in the name of God."

As Rabbi Sharon Brous noted at a recent conference, many Millennials often observe religion as a force used to justify disharmony, division, arrogance, intolerance, and, at its worst, murder.

Millennials correctly insist that religion should be based on positive values: love, harmony, sharing, support, healing and spirituality.

And we wonder why so many Jewish Millennials are reluctant to align with organized religion, fixed ritual, convention and structure.

The Torah itself provides us with many clues and examples which justify this position. We are told repeatedly that God does require our praises, platitudes-or acts of destruction. God just wants us to get along.

Take this week's Parashah titled Vayera ("And God appeared"). We are told that soon after Abraham's circumcision, God appeared to Abraham near Hebron as he recovered under a cluster of trees.

But then something remarkable happens. Three men suddenly appear before Abraham. These men will eventually foretell the birth of a miraculous son to Abraham and Sarah.

At that moment, Abraham has an important decision to make. He can continue sitting in the presence of God, or he can attend to the well-being of his three hungry, thirty and tired visitors.

Abraham chooses humanity.

It's an amazing theme repeated many times in Torah. We are told on numerous occasions that God does require our physical sacrifices - whether than be the presentations of animals on an alter - or our prayers and platitudes. Rather, God wants us, with concern and humility, to attend to our fellow human beings.

The perfect example of this comes on Yom Kippur, as we sit in our pews - without food, tapping our hearts, confessing sins. But then we are directed to an additional reading from the Book of Isaiah which delivers a clarifying commentary from God.

God tell us that it's not so much starvation, self-affliction, and "bowing our heads like a bulrush" which is required on Yom Kippur. Rather, God, speaking through Isaiah, says it's more important to "share your bread with the hungry, take the poor into your home and, when you see the naked, clothe them." (Isaiah 56:7.)

Elsewhere in Torah, the message is repeated. God does not need sweet smells, beautiful voices, or words of praise. What kind of just God would that be?

Rather, says God, what is expected of us is only to "do justice, love goodness, and walk humbly with your God." (Micah 6:8)

Why didn't we learn that on the first day of Hebrew school? Why don't rabbis and cantors learn that on the first day of seminary?

Why is it that the world is so full of those who judge, demean, dictate, and commit crimes against humanity?

Rather, we believe that God wants us to serve within a divine partnership, to heal a broken world. Judaism holds that while the physical component of the world has been created, there is still so much work to do perfecting the loving essence of families, friendships, communities and nations.

There too many in this world who claim they possesses the inside track on what God wants for the world. They are misguided.

Our millennial generation, among many others, is telling us that as long as religion persists as a fixed, judgmental, destructive force in this world, they will be reluctant to engage with it in traditional ways.

Rather synagogues and other institutions need to create alternatives. This entry point may come through engagement in social action projects, efforts to sustain our planet, or as we experienced during the recent election, in rejecting outdated structures and systems.

As Rabbi Brous commented last July, it's time for us "to re-affirm the core commitments of Judaism.

"Judaism is not designed to be pareve, polite, and predictable. It is designed to be a radical revolutionary agent of love and healing in the world."

Indeed, Judaism can serve as loving voice within a world of hate and intolerance, too often fueled by religion. It begins with one act of kindness at time.

This week's Parashah reminds us that God does not need servitude, as much as care and kindness among human beings.

As the Talmud notes, "the Torah begins with kindness and ends with kindness."

It's time that religion and Torah began seeing eye to eye. It's time we began listening to Judaism's new voices. For they are committed to the love and social justice which exist at the core of Judaism.

For it is not curators of the museum which we need.

Rather, Judaism requires creators of a refreshed and loving future.

Shabbat Shalom, v'kol tuv (with all goodness).

 Rabbi Irwin Huberman