“The Joke That Came Alive Before My Very Eyes Right Here in Temple Beth El!” Peter H. Grumbacher, Interim Rabbi August 25, 2023 A geniza is where Hebrew books, manuscripts and other papers were kept. Some were later buried. The oldest geniza is found in Cairo; when discovered in 1864 it was found to hold 280,000 Jewish manuscript fragments dating from 870 to the 19th century. There’s a joke that’s so old it was found in the Cairo geniza. OK, it’s not that old but it was around when I began rabbinical school in 1967, so surely it was around before that. But as no other joke, this one came alive during my very first Shabbat evening service. I couldn’t believe it! And it was right before my very eyes. So here’s the joke (and note: I use the fictional name Schleplowitz in the same way as many use Joe Schmo or Mary Jones)… Rabbi Schleplowitz was the new rabbi at Congregation Rodef Kesef. He was a great scholar, only 29 years old, but he was totally baffled by what he saw during his first Shabbat service. Everything was fine until the Sh’ma. Just before the cantor and congregation were about to sing the Sh’ma, half the people stood and the other half remained seated. And then they started yelling at each other. No one in the congregation really understood what was going on so the president suggested that Rabbi Schleplowitz visit Rabbi Lefkowitz, the Rabbi Emeritus, who was living in the Kutz Home. He was old but totally with it. Rabbi Schleplowitz knocked, came into the room when invited and introduced himself to Rabbi Lefkowitz. They had a pleasant chat and then the young whippersnapper told the Emeritus the story. “Rabbi,” he began, “what’s the tradition? Half the people stand for the Sh’ma and half the people stay seated.” The rabbi shook his head in recognition of the problem, but he didn’t answer. Then Rabbi Schleplowitz said, “And not only that, Rabbi, but at that very moment everybody starts screaming at each other.” “THAT’S the tradition!” shouted the Emeritus. OK, so you didn’t scream at each other but half stood and half sat. Suzy and I were in Rabbi Camp the beginning of the month. We find the same thing happening without the screaming. Traditional colleagues remain seated after the Bar’chu while Reform rabbis stand through the Sh’ma. Regardless of our theology, we all stand for the Bar’chu but as I said, some take their seats afterwards and some remain standing through the Sh’ma. It looks like a calliope. Up and down and up and down. It’s hefkeirut; it’s a balagan, best translated as chaos and confusion! Why does it happen only with the Sh’ma? Reform has always referred to it as the “Watchword of our Faith.” We give it honor. There is no catechism in Judaism, beliefs that are recited like a grocery list. The Oneness of God is our only foundation of faith. And so while Reform views it as a sacred sentence as it were, a declaration of declarations, adherents of other branches of Judaism have a virtual hohum attitude about the Sh’ma. That is to say, we are not asking that One God for anything: it’s not a petition. We’re not offering praise as a b’racha would; it’s not a blessing. It’s not emblazoned on a flag to which we have to show respect. It’s a statement, pure and simple! But while it may be pure, an affirmation of how we view our God, it’s not all that simple. In a sense it truly is complicated. If we take a look at all the possibilities of what it means you’ll see that it’s not that simple. We say Sh’ma Yisrael, Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai Echad. “Hear, O Israel, Adonai is our God, Adonai is One.” Or perhaps it should read, “Adonai is unique.” When you say “One” you’re implying there are no other deities to whom we pay respect, but is Adonai the only deity? God is One for our People; God is unique among our People. But very soon after we proclaim that “Watchword of our Faith,” we read something that might be conflicting. In the Mee kamokha, Mee kamokha ba’eilim Adonai,” and that translates, “Who is like you, Adonai, among the gods that are worshipped.” For heaven’s sake, let’s make up our minds. We say God is One and then we say “…gods that are worshipped”? There’s nothing contradictory. We view God as universal, Eloheinu melech ha-olam, “…our God, Sovereign of the Universe.” But Adonai wasn’t always universal. Indeed that juxtaposition of the Sh’ma and the Mee Kamokha teaches an important lesson in history. We say Sh’ma Yisrael…” and in this case Yisrael is literally “Israel,” the territory. No, not the modern Jewish State; rather the home of the Israelites. The surrounding Peoples had their own deities and we acknowledged them…“the gods that are worshipped.” So, our ancestors are in their land, and in their land it is the One God Adonai who is worshipped. But then history does a number on us. We are exiled. Babylonia has not destroyed our People; Babylonia has taken us from our land into their territory; and in their territory they worship “other gods.” It’s a dilemma. Do we take Adonai with us or do we forsake Adonai the One God for those of our conquerors? We Jews have been remarkable in our ability to deal with what is in front of us. Just think with respect to another historical moment…Rome destroys the Holy Temple the second time and what happens? As my great history teacher Dr. Ellis Rivkin taught. “On Monday we have a Temple and on Thursday we have a synagogue!” No more sacrifices; now we have prayer. We adapt so well. Well, the same is true beforehand. Like a magician waves his wand to make a rabbit appear or disappear, our ancestors said, “Poof, so on Monday God is territorial and on Thursday God is universal. God is everywhere, God is everywhere!” I don’t know about you but I’m convinced I’m talking about this whole matter in 2023 because we’ve been able to adapt in such a phenomenal manner. To me – ok, I’m a rabbi – it’s mindblowing! But if I asked you to interpret Sh’ma Yisrael, perhaps you would not have considered the point I just made. Perhaps you would have said the proclamation of God’s Oneness is for us to heed as the People Israel. In fact most Jews believe that, and it makes perfectly good sense. But let me throw out another interpretation. Did you ever notice in your siddur how the sentence after the Sh’ma is in smaller print than the Sh’ma itself? The Reform prayerbooks only recently changed the font to a different size, the first line from the second. Did you ever notice also that the Sh’ma is recited or sung out loud and the next line, Baruch shem k’vod malchuto l‘olam va-ed, “Blessed is God’s glorious kingdom forever and ever,” is virtually silent? Well, there’s a reason for those liturgical phenomena. If you think about it, what else can Yisrael/Israel be? (Pause) Remember, at a certain point in his life Jacob’s name was changed to Israel. The Torah text is very dramatic as to how this happened. Jacob struggles with an angelic being (and that itself is a teaching opportunity which I’ll forgo right now), gets the alien in a hammerlock (that’s my interpretation), and demands that his name be changed. The angel complies. There’s a chain of tradition: Abraham to Isaac to Jacob with of course their wives, our matriarchs, included in newer editions of the siddur. Sometimes when you read about their lives, their escapades, you might think there’s weakness in the links of the chain. You might think so. But Jacob is concerned that after his death his children will not continue that chain (that sounds far too familiar nowadays). Jacob/Israel is on his deathbed. He is surrounded by his sons. The midrash tells us that Jacob just cannot die. He has to be assured before his last breath that what his grandfather and father have striven so hard to maintain – and now Jacob himself – will not have been in vain. And so, his sons say to him, “Sh’ma Yisrael…” listen Israel, listen dad, “Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai echad.” Adonai is our God as Adonai has always been your God and grandpa’s God and great-grandpa’s God.” And with those soothing words, with his last breath the old man states, Baruch shem k’vod… “Blessed is God’s glorious kingdom forever and ever.” The curtain falls: Israel is dead. And that’s why that second sentence is in smaller font. We Jews are good at adapting our theology, and truth be told, we’re also really good at creating stories to reflect the essence of that which we believe. So as far as I’m concerned, while I would hope you’d remain standing from the Bar’chu through the Sh’ma, do whatever makes you comfortable, whatever your tradition tells you. But for heaven’s sake, don’t scream at each other. I’ll just have to ask you to leave.