“FIVE QUESTIONS IN SEARCH OF AN ANSWER”
PART FOUR –
“What In The Name of God?”
Yom Kippur 5765
September 25, 2004






Rabbi Edward Paul Cohn
Temple Sinai
New Orleans, Louisiana




    Have you noticed how people seem to divide into two types?  There are the math-science folks, and then there are the history-language folks.  I don’t mind telling you that for me, that round the clock obscure cable channel, you know, the one where there is a lady eagerly working out algebraic equations on a blackboard for an invisible audience, for me, that’s about as close to a description of hell as I’ve every seen!  Michaelangelo’s portrayal of suffering in the “Last Judgment” is a cinch compared with the useless pursuit of "X = who cares?"  So you know where I fall on that choice of preference between math/science and history/language.

    This Holy Day, I want to begin with a bit of history.  But I don’t want to scare you math-science folks.  This will be painless.  Don’t panic.  There will be no pop quizzes on dates.  But suppose I told you that an historian Robert Heilbroner, has actually managed to divide all of human history into just three periods.  What’s more, he’s assigned to each one of them a descriptive word in time— a one-word summation which alerts us to that periods’ essential nature- good or ill.  Listen to this.
  
I

    He says from theoretical year zero to 1600’s is the first period, and the word in time for that period is “RESIGNATION.”  Mind you, not that that time was an unrelieved dark ages, for there was exciting exploration and Shakespeare after all, but generally there was the expectation that what was, would be.  The fundamental basic structures of society and culture would remain.  Such was the attitude.

II

    Next says Heilbroner came the second period, the 1700’s to the 1950’s, characterized by the word OPTIMISM.  Here was the Enlightenment, the Industrial Revolution, Darwinism, the Social Gospel and any number of scientific and philosophic expectations of progress.  But you say to me, rabbi, what about those two World Wars and the Holocaust and Hiroshima?  Optimism?

    Yes, remember “The War to End All Wars”?  Remember the Russian Revolutions, that for some intelligentsia would represent the birth of Communism and a sign of future hope?  There was the League of Nations?  American Nuclear supremacy, the birth of NATO, the United Nations Charter.  Our own Reform Judaism is a product of this period with it’s concept of the Messianic Age:  everyday and in every way, we’re getting better.  In this period were the Herzl Zionist congresses, the birth of the Jewish state— yes, Optimism out of despair.

III
   
    Resignation, Optimism, and now the third: 1950’s To The Present.  The historian searches for these years and the only one to fill the bill seems to be ANXIETY.  We live as W.H. Auden insists, in “The Age of Anxiety” or as the Irish playwright dubbed it: “The Morning After Optimism.”

    Now the fact of terrorism has exploded upon our collective vocabularies as no one could have ever imagined.  Crises in democracies, uncertain economies, nihilism, massacres, prison tortures, ethnic cleansing— all of these create a period of severe discouragement.  Jake Barzun wrote a book titled:  From Dawn To Decadence.  That sums it up for many— disillusionment— anxiety

    So now, here’s your Yom Kippur day assignment.  I want you to look, with all I have said so far as prelude, I want you to go ahead and fire up your search engines for a word which is a summation for now.

    It should be big enough, encompassing enough to describe this perilous moment in which we find ourselves, belying an awareness of its danger and its possibility.  What word would you choose?  There are great scholars, educated and thoughtful people present here right now. Think!  What word-label should we choose to describe our current situation- filled so often as it is with violence and irrationality? 
     And now you know of course, I have my own suggestion ready to offer.  You’d be astonished if I didn’t! I would choose to call this the AGE OF INCOHERENCE.

 In all the universe, there has never before been such an extraordinary level of communication technology— instantaneous messaging around an increasingly shrinking, but explosive globe.  Yet, religious fanaticism, as cruel and heartless as ever witnessed, has reasserted itself and hence we fail to connect with one another.  THE AGE OF INCOHERENCE!

    We may listen, but we often do not hear.  We are triumphant in our wireless world, but where earnest human hearts are concerned, we find ourselves out of range, roaming, and disconnected.  What, in the name of God, is going on?  And are we able to rescue ourselves?

    In his forward to his newly published essays, Bill Moyers brings us right to the point.  Says Moyers:

Civilization, . . . is not a natural act; it is, rather a veneer of civility stretched across primal human appetites. . . . civilization has to be willed and practiced.  Otherwise, society is a war of all against all, powered by individual cunning in the pursuit of wealth and power.  . . . the web of cooperation is under siege.

    My dear friends, as Jews this is the day when all pretenses are shed, all masks are dropped, and on Yom Kippur we dare not forget that we sin against God when we sin against ourselves— the family of humankind.

    Isaiah’s penetrating challenge fills this sacred moment with self-accusation.  We are no different from our Jewish brothers and sisters of 2800 years ago to whom Isaiah was speaking eye to eye.  Like them, we too are certain of our piety and take for granted our moral eminence.   But the prophet’s words still assail us, penetrating through our own religious hypocrisy:

They seek Me daily, as though eager to learn My ways, as if they were a people that does what is right, and has not forsaken the way of its God.

    By no means do I believe that Isaiah’s chastisement in the name of God was applicable only for the Jewish people, then or now.  Abraham Joshua Heschel used to insist that:

No religion is an island.  We are all involved with one another.  Spiritual betrayal on the part of one affects the faith of all.

    And so our question this sacred day is of infinite import:  “What, in the name of God?”  We may never know precisely what was in the hearts of those 19 men who hijacked the four planes on that Tuesday in September three years ago, but the five page letter left by their ringleader, Muhammad Atta, revealed a religious world view which sanctions any level of horror under the guise of religious faith.

    “What, in the name of God?”  It is obvious that today anything goes, as aberrant permutations of religious ideologies sanction the use of indiscriminate violence.  No one is exempt!

    Religious fanaticism is the central factor in the escalation of violence and evil around this world of ours.  Look, one has only to review the headlines in our daily papers:  We can begin with this week’s beheadings— and go on to—

•    Hindus and Muslims on the brink of war in Kashmir.
•    Muslim Civil War a constant factor in Iraq.
•    Serbian Christians to stand trial for atrocities against Bosnian Muslims.
•    Palestinians killed by Jewish settlers in the occupied territories.
•    Muslim suicide bomber kills a Jewish family of five.
•    Murder trial begins for Fundamentalist Christian minister in abortion doctor case.
•    Remember the U.S. Lt. General William Boykin, who preached in 23 churches gloating over his defeat of a Somalian Muslim war lord.  “I knew that my God was bigger than his.  I knew that my God was a real God, and his was an idol.”

In a recent column, Tom Friedman asked, what do the Iraqi Shiite extremists and the extremist Israeli settlers have in common?  Answer:  tragically more than one would think.  Says Friedman:

Both movements combine religious messianism, and a willingness to sacrifice their followers and others for absolutist visions, along with a certain disdain for man-made laws, as opposed to those from God.

    Do you know, that in a recent New York Times Magazine article Ariel Sharon told the reporter, and here I quote directly: 

All my life, I defended Jews, and suddenly I find myself, you know, being defended against Jews,

    Here is an Israeli Prime Minister who fears for his own life.  Not from wild-eyed Palestinian extremists, but from fanatic Jewish settlers who believe that their own elected leader is thwarting the divine will of God; that they must own and occupy this certain square mile of the Holy Land.

    We do well to recall that our Torah records that the very first murder in human history occurred during a religious act:  Cain killed his brother Abel.  Their offerings were of different content, and from this rivalry for God’s favor, violence and death ensued.  Hence a tragedy was born and has been played out, again and again, far beyond the pages of scripture between Jews and Christians, Muslims and Jews, and Christians and Muslims.  As it was, so it still remains— everyone is offered the chance to kill or to be killed in the name of someone’s God.

See, I have set before you life and death, the blessing and the curse. 
Therefore choose life, that you and your children may live.


    That, my dear friends, is the perpetual choice confronting humankind.  And yet, as the cartoon “theologian” Pogo once said of us:

We have faults we haven’t even used yet.  Yes, too often we choose poorly.

    “Your money or your life!” said the thief on one dark night to a priest who was returning home to his rectory.  But as the priest reached his hand into his pocket, the thief caught a glimpse of his ecclesiastical collar.

I see you are a priest.  That’s ok.  You can go then.
   
    Surprised at this unexpected show of piety, the priest, trying to reciprocate this saving gesture, offered the armed man all that he had:  a candy bar.  To which the robber replied.

No thank you, Father, I don’t eat candy during Lent.

    Do you see the absurdity of those of any religious faith who major in minors:  that fellow who would rob a victim, but wouldn’t eat a candy bar during Lent?  Or those who pride themselves on reverently fasting all day today, but whose follow-up behavior tomorrow will be entirely untouched by the powerful message of T’Shuvah- repentance which permeates the sacred day.

    I heard about a fellow who went off to Fenway Park in Boston to enjoy a Redsocks game.  Well, lo and behold, he caught a fly ball.  Now most folks would just take pleasure in taking it home as a souvenir, keep it as a memento or perhaps give the ball away to a child or grandchild.  But this guy’s delight gradually turned to shame and distress.  You ask why?  Well he was overcome with guilt for having kept this ball, which wasn’t really his.  In the end, he actually packed the ball in a box and sent it back to the Boston Redsocks with a letter of apology.  Well the management, to their credit, sent him a letter of reply acknowledging the return of the baseball.  But they closed their letter with this admonition:

Don’t be silly.  Put your conscience to better use.

    It seems to me, that that is exactly what this day calls us all to do.  And it is precisely what anyone who is religious ought to attempt.  To live, is to be continually summoned by whatever religion we embrace, to wrestle with the dark angel of our lesser nature, lest we misuse our faith.

    Some years ago, the great minister of New York’s Riverside Church, Dr. Harry Emerson Fosdick, was invited to preach at the University of Beirut.  He knew full well that invited for this festive occasion would be Buddists, Hindus, Jews and Muslims as well as Christians.  And Dr. Fosdick agonized over what message most needed to be offered.  And you know what he told that over flowing crowd on that memorable day?  He said, in the end, your life will come down to one question: 

What has your religion done for your character?

    In this world, where too often violent acts make us ask “What, in the name of God?” we wonder can we really live together?  Is it true as Jonathan Swift once observed, that we have “just enough religion to make us hate one another but not enough to make us love one another?”

    Well give ear to a word of comfort.  Says Britain’s Chief Rabbi, Jonathan Sacks, in his brilliant book, THE DIGNITY OF DIFFERENCE.

The greatest single antidote to violence is conversation, speaking our fears, listening to the fears of others, and in that sharing of vulnerabilities discovering a genesis of hope.

    Rabbi Sacks levels a challenge to us all.  He asks:

Can we see the presence of God in the face of a stranger, and can we hear the voice of God in a language,
in a faith tradition, in a culture which is not our own?


    As I read Rabbi Sack’s book, THE DIGNITY OF DIFFERENCE two realities occurred to me:

Number one:  You and I need to become increasingly learned about our own faith— at a deeper, maturer depth.  Have we even begun to discover the hopeful brilliance and sanity of Judaism’s message in our fragile world?  Of course we haven’t!  Temple Sinai University.

Number two:  We need to take that new appreciation and comfort level which is bound to accrue from our learning and study of our own tradition, and then open ourselves to the honest and often majestic differences, which separate us from one another.

    It’s long since time that we forget that idiocy about:  “We’re really all the same.”  We are not all the same.  Don’t you think faith is far more sophisticated than a DVD player or a cell phone?  Well I find that invariably, they operate differently from one another depending on the brand.  Truth is, Judaism, Christianity and Islam present very different ideas about the nature of God and our covenant with God.  Each of these faiths has a different take on human nature.  There are some irreconcilable differences between religious faiths.  Get over it!

    Judaism is 4000 years old.  Christianity 2000, Islam, 1500.  And yes we diverge in so many ways, but we all three are united by the commandment to protect the needy and to feed the hungry.

    Reverence, restraint, humility, a sense of limits, these are all essential to the religious imagination.  And shame on those of any faith who stand aside when people are murdered in the name of God or a sacred cause.  Their acts of indifference are blasphemy.

    This past June I attended a lecture by a distinguished scholar who is now completing a brand new translation of the Zohar.  It was a fascinating presentation, though I am not ordinarily intrigued with Jewish mysticism.  I’ll leave the Zohar to Madona – or Esther as she is currently called!  But this scholar referred to something important for us to consider today.  Have you ever heard of a water clock?  I hadn’t.  But it was a device referred to in the Zohar that was commonly employed by Jews, Christians and Muslims in the Middle Ages, because all three faiths have a mystical tradition which summons their adherents to awaken at midnight to offer prayers to God.  We Jews have our prayers at midnight.  And so do Christians and Muslims.

    This is how it works.  A weight on one side, a jar of water on the other.  The jar is designed with a crack to assure that its contents would leak at a carefully regulated rate.  And when the jar is finally empty of its water at the midnight hour, the weight will then drop and sound a bell, which will awaken the sleepy worshippers.

    I say we are all sleeping worshippers.  Of every denomination and creed on the face this earth, we have yet to wake up from our murderous slumber, and rise to our full moral height.  This is the message for Yom Kippur!

    God awaits our report for righteous duty when, as Dr. Fosdick answered, we demonstrate just how much our faith succeeds in shaping our character.  As my favorite poet, William Blake, envisions:

Then (says Blake) every man, of every clime, that prays in his distress,
prays to the human form divine, love, mercy, pity, peace. 
And all must love the human form, the heathen, Turk or Jew. 
Where mercy, love and pity dwell, there God is dwelling too.

                             
Amen.