"Vayelchu Shneihem Yachdav - Walking Together"

Rosh Hashanah 5766, Second Day

Rabbi Joshua Heller
Congregation B’nai Torah
rabbi@bnaitorah.org

This morning we read the story of the Akedah, the binding of Isaac. A modern take on that story, which is, itself, a classic: Abraham bought himself a fancy new computer. he was showing it to Isaac one day. "Look at all the wonderful programs it has on it. And look at the fancy flat LCD screen..."

Isaac was impressed, but a little concerned..."But dad, I don't think your computer has enough memory."

Abraham said "Don't worry son; the Lord will provide the RAM."

The room is very clearly divided into people who got that joke and people who didn't, and possible a third category- people whose sense of humor is more refined than mine. But it does make you think, what remarkable changes have taken place in our lifetimes. When I gave my first high holiday sermon, 15 years ago, that joke was hysterical. When my father started in the pulpit, 35 years ago, it was inconceivable that you would have a computer in your own house.
When my grandfather started in the pulpit - it was still within the realm of possibility that you would have an actual Ram in the house. And believe me, if it left microchips- that was not a good thing.

Nerdy humor aside, the story of the Akeidah, the binding of Isaac, is among the most haunting in the entire Torah. Yesterday I spoke of it as a trial of faith, as a measure of God's testing, assessing Abraham. Today, I want to address it from a different perspective, from the perspective of family dynamics, of the very human emotions and relationships. There are two key phrases that tie together this story- "Hinenni" -here I am- and "Vayelchu Shneihem Yachdav." the two of them walked together. And I believe that the lessons we learn are essential for us as individuals, in our own families, and for our synagogue family. This being the second day of a weekday Rosh Hashanah, this is the smallest crowd you are going to see for any high holiday sermon here at B'nai Torah. Therefore, I'm speaking to “preach to the choir” so to speak, speaking to "just us"- the insider, addressing our own spiritual growth as individuals, and as a synagogue.

When you read the story of Abraham - he is a man whose most important focus is Jewish continuity, the history of his family, which is our family. His entire focus in life is finding an heir, a successor. He and Sarah are infertile. When he gives up on having his on child, he searches for someone who can take on that role. First, he hopes that Lot, his nephew will serve to continue the Jewish nation- but he goes off to Sodom. Then, Abraham wonders if Eliezer, his faithful servant, will inherit his legacy, but he too is not worthy. Then, Ishmael is born from Hagar, his maidservant, and surrogate mother. Ishmael is not all he's cracked up to be, and it would seem all hope is lost, for Sarah is almost 90 years old. Then, at long last, Isaac is born- the great white hope.

Parallel this with the life of our own congregation. We have a wonderful and sacred tradition, and we are deeply concerned with how, and to whome we will pass on that tradition. For some of us, that concern is literal- for our own children who come after us. How will we ensure that we have Jewish grandchildren? Will there be someone who calls us Bubbe or Zayde, or, if you are of that bent, Saba and Savta? For others, the concern is more broad- how will we look to a spiritual heritage which goes beyond the genetic: will we be dod and doda- aunt and uncle?

And I will tell you, when I arrived here, things were not great on that front. There were only 16 kids in our entire hebrew school. Ok, we said, a lot of kids are in day school. Well, it turns out it really was that bad- there were only two third graders in the entire synagogue, day school and religious school combined. We can appreciate the joy that Abraham felt of welcoming just one more child.

And indeed, welcome we did. We had over 20 brisses and namings in our B’nai Torah family this past year, and I have another three in this ten day span. Wendy and I did our part, but it was clearly a group effort. There is a story about a catholic priest who gets into a New York city cab. The cabbie, not being familiar with Christian practice, asks why he is wearing a special collar. “Because I am a father” he responds. The Cabbie says- A father. Aha, I am a father of six children. How many are you the father of? “A flock of hundreds” the padre responds. “Perhaps instead of a special collar, you should have a special pair of pants!”

And yet, for all the joy at his birth, Isaac throws a wrench into the works- we read yesterday Ishmael is so jealous of this new kid. We read that he was Metzachek. This word has a double meaning- it means taunting or teasing, but it is very close to Isaac’s Hebrew name “Metzachek.” He’s acting like Isaac- competing for attention. Jealousy among siblings is to be expected, the older vs the younger.

This is a phenomenon in our larger world. Our society pits the generations against each other. What does it mean to be 50 years old, and suddenly be replaced by someone half your age? What does it mean to have scored the big hit, and replaced someone twice your age, and then be replaced by somebody in India? We see the tension in entertainment, in marketing- the 25-34 demographic is so highly coveted. Not because we have so much money to spend, but because we are so gullible as to how they spend it. Movies are segmented by age group. So are TV shows, advertising, music. We live in a world where, increasingly, parents and children live hundreds, thousands of miles apart, but even when they live around the corner, live in different worlds. We have different vocabulary, different priorities and life expectations.

Here, too, at B’nai torah, accomodating the next generation is not easy. At a recent board meeting, there was a complaint from a board member who I have the utmost respect for, that there were kids jumping on the sofa on Shabbat during kiddush. In the spirit of the season, on Caleb's behalf, I apologize.

It's not just my kids- our Hebrew school has doubled in size since last year. When you look at our synagogue- we've had just over 80 new families join in the last 15 months, most of them either with children, or young married couples, and there are at least another 20 families who are here with tickets whom I hope not to scare off. If you look around you, 1/5 of the people in this room were not here two years ago, 20% didn't hear Cantor Markovitz last time they were here. Babysitting and youth services were sold out by the deadline last week, and so, just hours before the holiday, we were wracking our brains- where will we put all of these children?, Trying to accommodate families that waited until the last minute to join. It meant moving furniture - opening up rooms in the building that haven't been used for that purpose in years. I have to give credit to volunteer Carol Sherwinter, to Director of Family Life and Education Programming Tara Johnson, to Don Kaye our executive director, to our maintenance staff - who bent over backward to squeeze in as many as they did.

But it shows us that this exciting growth also presents a challenge and an opportunity. Doubling the number of kids in some age groups is awe-inspiring, but also scary. How do we integrate this new excitement, this new spirit, into our own spirituality? How do we make sure that we remain one congregation? How do we become what we are meant to be without losing sight of what we've always been?

I think the answer lies in balancing two concepts in our reading today "hineni" – “here I am” “vayelchu shneihem yachdav" “the two of them walked together.

Of course, you know the outline of the story- Abraham is commanded to send Ishmael away into the desert, and offer Isaac as a sacrifice on the top of Mt. Moriah. I suppose that is an alternative to hiring more babysitters.

When God comes to Abraham and asks him to offer Isaac, his response, before God says anything else, is Hinneni. To give you a sense of the word Hinneni: in the mystical tradition, the performance of a Mitzvah is preceded by a brief statement indicating one's intent to do so. "Hinneni Muchan Umezuman" "I hereby observe the Mitzvah of thanking God for this meal." “I will observe the Mitzvah of Tefillin, of Tzitzit"... And the word that is used is that very same Hinneni. It implies “here I am: I’m present, I'm all ears!” Abraham will say it a total of three times over the course of the story.

The second time, he says it to Isaac as they are walking up the mountain. Abraham is carrying the knife and the fire- everything dangerous, and Isaac is carrying the wood. You could see it as very devious- don't give Isaac anything he could fight back with- or tender- protective until the last. I imagine Andy Griffth and Opie on the way to the fishin' hole in Mayberry. Except they are hunting ‘gators, and Opie is going to be the bait. There is a very brief, but so piquant dialogue, bookended with description- the text describes them as “Vayelchu sheneihem yachdav”- the two of them walk together. One with agonizing purpose, the other with heartbreaking innocence. Isaac asks: "Father.." He could be asking anything, any of the questions that a kid is wont to ask on a long trip: "are we there yet?" But Abraham anticipates the question; Abraham responds again to his son with the same word he used to respond to God "Hinneni- I am here for you, I am present, I am clear in my intent."

And yet, how can he say hinneni to both God and his son- how can he be present are ready to perform the will of each? The will of God is to schecht his son. The desire of his son is for life, to carry on the history of the Jewish people.
Isaac of course asks a very intelligent question. “Here is the wood for the offering, and the fire, where is the lamb?”

Abraham pushes him off “Elohim Yireh Lo haseh L’olah B’ni.”

A plain reading of the text would be: “The Lord will provide the ram for slaughtering, my son.”

However, that’s not the only way to read the verse. The midrash, cited by the classic commentator Rashi, explains that we have punctuated wrong.

“The Lord will provide. The Lamb for slaughter? My son.”

Abraham is spilling the beans- yes, Isaac, you are to be the sacrifice. From that point on, Rashi tells us, Isaac is in on it! He's not surprised when Abraham puts him on the altar. And yet, even so, “Vayelchu Shneihem Yachdav” this one to to bind, this one to be bound, this one to slaughter, this one to be slaughtered- but even that gave them common purpose.
and they walk together. "vayelchu sheneihem yachdav.”

And now we come to the 3rd hineni of the story.

Finally, Abraham binds Isaac on the altar, and just as he is about to slit the boy's throat, God's messenger cries out:

"Abraham, Abraham."

Why does the angel call out twice? Perhaps Abraham was so engrossed in the moment that even the angel could not get his attention. Or perhaps, the Angel called out Abraham's name twice because the were two sides of Abraham’s spirit which could barely co-exist in the same body- one saying "Hinneni- I am utterly responsible to my God" and the other saying "Hinneni- I am committed to being a loving father. Only an act of God, and a change of the divine command, could reunite these opposing wills within him. And indeed, Abraham responds with a single Hinenni- he understands he bears but one responsibility, that his responsibility to his son is indeed part of his responsibility to God.

We in B'nai Torah are going to be pulled in many directions in coming years, and we have to have the ability to say Hineni- here we are. We need to say Hineni to God- God- whatever you demand, here we are. We (and when I say we I include myself) need to deepen our spirituality and commitment in prayer, through the traditional liturgy and melodies. Through observance of mitzvot- shabbat, festivals, kashrut.

We need to be willing to make sacrifices to do God's will among our fellow-men. Earlier this year we said Hineni when hundreds of people showed up to host and welcome our guests from the gulf coast area.

We need to say Hineni to ourselves- we need to be able to listen to our own spiritual needs- to hear the still small voice that directs us from within.

At the same time, we need to say Hineni to each other- we need to recognize that we come from remarkably different backgrounds, different interests and needs, but we are one community. As I have gotten to know B'nai Torah, one of the things that I am proudest of is that we are such a big tent. The label on stationary says Conservative, but we transcend labels. The movement gives us direction, gives us connections, resources, but our goals are not limited to its confines. There are many people in our midst today who grew up worshipping at Beth Jacob, at "Southern Orthodox" synagogues in Savannah, Charleston and Birmingham. In Johannesburg and Capetown. There are people in our midst today who grew up going to Conservative and Reform synagogues. To NO synagogues. Who grew up going to church and have made Judaism their choice.

25 years ago this Passover, a group of people came together to found this synagogue. They knew that it was not going to be the same as the synagogues their parents went to, and indeed it could not be if it was to serve their spiritual needs. They faced challenges of building a building, of building a congregation and a community, and they succeeded remarkably in creating an environment that was wonderful and positive for their children. They built a synagogue of unique, if idiosyncratic compromises- mixed seating, orthodox prayerbook. Girls doing the haftorah, but not other parts of the service. We’re proud of our daily minyan, even if sometimes only 8 people come.

But now we face those same challenges again- how do we create a synagogue which was not exactly the synagogue of a generation ago, and in some ways is even more like that synagogue of 20 years ago than the one we remember from the last few years, but above all is able to balance a respect for the beauty and authenticity of our tradition, with the need to speak with the voice of history to a new generation.

Pity poor Abraham- he underwent such effort, he was willing to sacrifice what was to him the most important thing in the entire world, he heeded God's demand without protest, only to learn in fact that that was not what God wanted anymore. Why did God have to call Abraham's name twice... “Abraham! Abraham!”- because even harder than doing God's will, is recognizing when that which one has been doing, all this time, was right, was following God's will, but God's intent for the "end game" is different. God wanted Abraham to keep lowering the knife, but it was a different neck than Abraham had originally aimed for.

There are those of you who may hear today's sermon, and will panic "aha- the shoe has dropped" but in fact, you are mistaken- keep your shirt on. If you must pick a clothing metaphor - I'm throwing down the gauntlet. We need, together, to steer the synagogue into its next quarter century. It is my job to speak the language of halacha - the language of law, of what is permitted and what is forbidden. It is my job to speak in the language of inclusiveness- within the limits of the law, how can we broaden the flaps of our tent without pushing anyone out into the rain, and create a congregation which is truly open to the widest segment of the community while still standing for something.

Vayelchu Shneihem Yachdav.

We've grown and welcomed some wonderful new members to our B’nai Torah family, but we need to repeat our success, and our hospitality at the same level for years to come in order to assure our future. The most immediate challenge we face, and the one which must occupy us in the coming year, is accommodating the new members of our congregation- of integrating our newcomers into our physical plant, and our programming. Getting used to the pitter patter of little feet. The easiest part of the process in some ways will be the facilities- we just upgraded computer systems, and with the help of Alan Rubenstein, God really did provide the RAM. The easiest part will be opening up new rooms in our building. We must open new rooms in our hearts if we are truly to succeed.

We must learn to sharpen the skills on which this synagogue was built, of bridge building, of creative thought- of two-track and three-track thinking. We had an amazing stretch in August and most of September where we had as many as 200 people a night for Friday night - on the off weeks we had 60 or 70. It was a wonderful mix of generations. Part of that was due to our monthly blue-jean shabbat. Imagine - the rabbi changes pants and another 100 people show up!

This fall, we tried an experiment, having two services on a Friday night: a tot shabbat at 6:00, with adults at 6:30. We had over 160 people show up to tot Shabbat- something like 60 kids under 5. But the "adult" service was only about 30 people- the lowest in months. I learned that I can't be in two places at once. And I also learned that even as we must, from time to time create programs that serve the needs of our streams separately, that we must not allow any group or faction to feel that they are not being valued, their needs addressed, and we must be diligent in finding times and ways to bring them together.

Vayelchu shneihem yachdav.

We are climbing a sacred mountain together, in search of God's presence. We each come with concerns and fears: who will be bound on the altar when we reach the top? None of us need be sacrificed (not even the Rabbi!) we can all come down together. We've survived and thrived despite all the tsuris. I believe that what makes B'nai Torah special is bigger than any one program, any one person, any one practice. With the sanctuary opened up, we have the capacity to be a truly big tent (and indeed, a big tent is one of the options under consideration for where to put all these kids next year).
I stand before you saying Hineni - I'm here, I'm ready, I'm attentive. I can’t blame to be any saintlier than Abraham, but I'm willing to listen to all the voices in the synagogue. Young, old, new, longtime, insider, outsider. Within the limits of my commitment to the sanctity of the tradition, I want to work to bring all of us together. I hope that you will say Hineni with me.

If so, then "vayelchu shneihem yachdav"- travelling together we can do great things.

Shanah Tovah