Zarei HaKehilah; Seeds of the Community

‫שנה טובה‬

Shana Tova

Zarei HaKehilah Seeds of the Community A COLLECTION OF ROSH HASHANA ESSAYS WRITTEN BY MEMBERS OF THE RAMAZ COMMUNITY

RESPONSIBILITY FOR ALL - TODAY and YESTERDAY

By Rabbi Haskel Lookstein ‘49 Principal, Grandparent, and Parent of Alumni, Ramaz

My revered teacher, Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, of blessed

memory, gave two interesting answers to a perennial question: “Why do we confess to sins which we have never committed?”

Look at the ashamnu confessional. Have we actually acted treacherously, robbed, been violent, persecuted, etc.? We have certainly not been perfect but we haven’t been that bad. Why, therefore, are we confessing sins that we have never committed?

The Rav’s first answer is that we do not confess for ourselves and our behavior alone. We also confess for the sins of all the Jews in our generation who may have been guilty of one sin or another in the series of transgressions in the ashmanu and al chet listings.

The Rav’s second answer is that we do not confess for our own generation alone. We take responsibility for all the sins of all the generations. That is why the confessional service throughout the days of selichot and Yom Kippur begins with the words aval anachnu va’avoteinu chatanu – for we and our forefathers have surely sinned. When we confess, just as when we rejoice or celebrate, we do so with all the prior generations in mind. In the penitential season, today and yesterday are inextricably united.

This provides a new perspective on the Talmud’s statement (Shavuot, 39a) kol Yisrael areivin zeh ba-zeh – all of Israel are responsible for one another – for our day and for all the yesterdays, because, literally, we are all mixed in together.

The word areivut means not only “responsible,” but also “mixed together.”

We are all, as it were, in the same boat.

This is one of the most important principles in the concept of Jewish community. We are not separate human beings, nor are we, in fact, separate generations. Every Jew is responsible for every other Jew today and yesterday, not only out of concern for the other’s physical well-being, but also out of concern for his or her moral, ethical, and spiritual well-being. This is so because we are all mixed in together. Whatever happens to one affects us all.

May we have occasion this year to help each other in every way: with love and support, with encouragement and sympathy, and, yes, with helping our community as individuals and collectively, to reach our moral, ethical, and spiritual potential.

L’shana tova tikateivu v’teichateimu

PEW-ISH, JEW-ISH, SOCIAL ORTHODOXY, and the POWER of COMMUNITY

By Paul Shaviv Head of School, Ramaz

Rosh Hashana is the “Community Festival” par excellence. It

is often noticed that the central prayers of the machzor are all phrased in the plural; many of the themes of our prayers reflect on the collective, whether it be the community or humanity as a whole. It is therefore an appropriate time for us to think about the place and power of the “community” as a component of the cluster of beliefs, identities, and attachments that make up our Jewishness.

Around this time last year, the Pew report assailed us with a battery of statistics on Jews and their diverse ways.

Broadly speaking, it portrayed an assimilating, intermarrying Jewish community of weakening commitment to many of the values and practices that we (Modern Orthodox - only 3%!) value. It also showed a polarity, with the intensively Orthodox community growing, especially in the New York area. Some of the data generated skepticism (“1% of Ultra-Orthodox Jews have Christmas trees”). But overall, it showed a community whose Jewishness, most of all, was strongest in simply “hanging out” with each other. It was a sort of neural affinity group.

Then just a few weeks back came Ramaz parent and KJ member Jay Lefkowitz with his “Social Orthodoxy” manifesto. He argued that for him and many others, even within observant Orthodoxy, the glue that kept us together was the motivating power of community and continuity, leading to a pattern of highly agreeable, emotionally and spiritually-rewarding behavior of strong Jewish content.

A constant concern voiced about Jewish schools is their lack of spirituality – a notoriously difficult word to define, and one rarely found strung together with the word “teenager.” But looking around Ramaz (and other Jewish schools), I see something else – the overwhelming, and very, very strong “power of community;” hundreds of young people enjoying “hanging out” with each other. Don’t discount the strength, importance, or community promise that this represents – because for youngsters, “belonging” is sometimes as emotionally important as “believing.”

May we all draw spiritual and social sustenance from coming together as families and community, in faith and in peoplehood, in the coming year.

Shanah tovah!

ACCOUNTABILITY and SELF-RENEWAL

By Rabbi Tavi Koslowe Head of Lower School, Ramaz

There is a fascinating debate among the Rabbis of the late

1st century regarding the significance of Rosh Hashana.

Rebbi Eliezer suggests that Rosh Hashana coincides with the day that God created Adam and Chava, whereas Rebbi Yehoshua believes that the creation of humanity took place in the Hebrew month of Nissan, not Tishrei. What is the essence of this argument, as it is certainly not one based on observable facts?

Rabbi Meyer Twersky, grandson of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, suggests a beautiful explanation. The Hebrew month of Tishrei is the month of accountability. It is when the Jewish nation takes out their ledger and, in a very introspective manner, holds themselves accountable for every action that they are responsible for.

Rebbi Eliezer’s suggestion that Man was created in Tishrei is therefore an indication that, in his opinion, the very essence of humanity is to be accountable.

Nissan, in contrast, is chronologically bound to the season of spring which inspires the world’s renewal. Just as the lifeless vegetation which surrounds us all winter long is given new life and new opportunity in Nissan, Rebbi Yehoshua’s suggestion that Man was created in Nissan is a statement that the essence of humanity is the capacity for self-renewal. That, regardless of what hardships we have endured throughout the “winter” of our lives, Man is forever able to turn his direction and begin afresh.

It is this same journey from the ideal world of accountability to the pragmatic world of self-renewal which defines the Aseret Yemei Teshuva, the Ten Days of Repentance. The period begins with a day entirely devoted to judgment, without any mention or calling upon God’s mercy, and only concludes with a day of repentance that it is meant to inspire our ability to renew ourselves once again. Ultimately, we depend on the interdependency of the “Tishrei Jew” and the “Nissan Jew.” Without Tishrei, man would undoubtedly sell himself short, and rely too easily on Divine mercy to excuse his shortcomings. Likewise, without Nissan, man would inevitably be overwhelmed and depressed at his necessary failures towards achieving perfect accountability.

It is only through the appreciation and acceptance of both the ideal and the pragmatic, that we can accept our own religious journeys as well as the collective journey of our community.

12 WINDOWS

By Rabbi Yosef Albo Director of Sephardi Programming, Ramaz Upper School

The singularity of the Days of Awe expresses itself primarily through

an emphasis on praying. Furthermore, what makes these holidays outstanding is the level of unmatched participation by Jews across the spectrum of observance. Beginning on Rosh Hashana and reaching a climactic moment on Yom Kippur, one can feel the unity and diversity of our nation as we stand in solitude side by side, in one room, observant and non-observant alike. Why is it that this unity expresses itself specifically in prayer?

The Talmud1 teaches us that when one sees 600,000 Jews gathered together they should recite the blessing of ‫ברוך חכם הר זים‬ – “Blessed is He who discerns secrets.” We bless God when we observe such a gathering because of the wondrous recognition that just as no two faces are similar, so too, no two intellects are alike - and yet God knows the thoughts, motivations, and intentions of every human being2. The Talmud uses the number 600,000 as a reference to the Jewish nation that received the Torah at Mount Sinai3. The one Torah, composed by He who discerns secrets, is God’s way of speaking to every single person in every generation.

Prayer is the medium by which we speak with God. As limited and unique creations we have multiple ways and forms of praying. It is for this reason that the mystics tell us that there are 12 windows in heaven4. Each tribe, personality type, and zodiac has its own unique path into heaven. Each prayer enters through its own window, yet united and received by one God.

The ideal structure of a synagogue, which is a physical reflection of the heavenly house of God, should also have 12 windows5. Perhaps this is because prayer is meant to be experienced in a singular room that contains multiple personalities and types, united by the function of praying, each ascending to heaven through its own designated window.

More than any other aspect of our worship of God, it is prayer that has the power to unite us. The vulnerability of praying and our dependency on the one and only God that can send us our salvation can bring us together despite our differences.

If people were to hover over the buildings of RAMAZ, they would hear myriad prayers, each traveling through their own window to our father in heaven: Sephardi and Ashkenazi Minyanim, students from every possible background Judaism has to offer, all united in one location. The nurturing of a united community happens first and foremost in prayer. The unity that is experienced by most only on the High Holidays continues to live within the walls of RAMAZ all year round.

1 Brachot 58a 2 Maharsha (ad loc) 3 Likutei Amarim Tanya, Authors Foreword (see footnote 5 ad loc) 4 Chid”a, Avodat Hakodesh, Kesher Gadol 12.9 5 Zohar Pikudei 251.a and Bet Yosef Orach Hachaim 90

TISHREI TIME

By Rabbi Kenny Schiowitz Chair of Talmud Department, Ramaz Upper School

Rosh Hashana (1 Tishrei), the alleged Jewish New Year,

in fact shares this distinction with the month of Nissan.

The birth of the Jewish People occurred on the holiday of Pesach, situated in the center of Nissan, and for this reason this month is distinguished as the “the first of the months of the year” (Shmot 12:2). Thus, the New Year of Rosh Hashana is described as “the first day of the seventh month” (Bamidbar 29:1).

The contrast between these two “New Years” is also expressed in the dedications of the Tabernacle and Temple.

When King Solomon built the First Temple, the construction was completed during the month of Mar Cheshvan (1 Melachim 6:38). Nevertheless, the dedication of the Temple was delayed for 11 months until the holiday of Sukkot in the month of Tishrei (1 Melachim 8:65). The Midrash (Yolkut Shimoni 6:184) suggests that this was done in order to parallel a similar delay in the dedication of the Tabernacle. Moshe completed that construction in the month of Kislev, but nevertheless waited three months until the beginning of Nissan to dedicate it (Shmot 40:2). However, the Midrash fails to explain why the Temple’s dedication was delayed so much longer. Why did Solomon wait 11 months for Tishrei, and not simply until Nissan?

The month of Nissan represents the birth of the Jewish People who were formed as a nation and charged with our particular mission. The Tabernacles then became the focus of our religious worship and the home for the presence of God that travelled with the Jewish People throughout the desert. While Solomon’s Temple was to replace this Tabernacle, he had a slightly different vision. He wanted the Temple to serve not only the Jewish People, but to become “a house of prayer for all of the nations” (Isaiah 56:7). Thus he waited for Sukkot in Tishrei to initiate this Temple, because this time represents the universal relationship between God and humanity. Tishre is the month of the creation of the world, the month when “all creatures are judged” and the month when 70 sacrifices are offered on behalf of the 70 nations of the world (on Sukkot). Thus, on Rosh Hashana the Jewish People coronate God as the God of the entire world and beseech His mercy to grant us all a year of blessing and peace.

BUILDING COMMUNAL BONDS THROUGH COMPETITION

By Dr. Marjorie Lehman Ramaz Parent

Having recently taught mYoma 2:1, I entered the Ramaz

Upper School to attend the final simulated school night of my son’s high school career. While running from one classroom to another, this mishnah was reverberating in my mind. mYoma 2:1 narrates the story of priests competing with one another to perform what seems to be no more than general housekeeping, that is, the removal of ash from the altar following the burning of a sacrifice. Acting on a commandment found in Vayikra 6:3, the mishnah ritualizes this act of competition, informing us that the priest who ascended the ramp of the altar first, merited the opportunity to perform this rite. Unfortunately, this system became dangerous as one priest physically pushed another aside, vying for the chance to maneuver himself into a more prominent position within his community of priests and possibly with God. While the victim here merely received a broken leg, other versions of this story in the Talmudim inform us that one priest went so far as to stab another while trying to outrun him.

During simulated school night, imagining all of the students running through the halls, I thought about how many run to outdistance their classmates, wishing for prominence, wishing to stand out above the others, endangering friendships. I wondered about the extent to which competition threatens the community and at what level this occurs. The mishnah’s response was to change the system so that priests drew lots. After all, fair is fair. Let’s be democratic.

But, is that what we want? To eliminate competition altogether? Doesn’t each of us have a natural competitive edge? The rabbis teach us that, indeed, certain types of competition generate communal ties. For example, in bTa’anit 7a, Rav Chamah said in the name of Rabbi Chanina: What is the meaning of, “As iron sharpens iron [so a man sharpens the wit of his friend]” (Proverbs 27:17)? This teaches that just as an iron [blade] sharpens another so too, two Torah scholars sharpen each other while [debating] halakhah.” The rabbis encourage us to compete with one another to enhance the knowledge of our friends, not to outdo them, but to transform them into better and more Torah knowledgeable human beings.

Bringing out the best in another person by interacting in a competitive way, can bring out the best in us and, in turn, enable us to build stronger communal bonds. As we approach Rosh Hashana, I hope that we can put our competitive wills only to positive use, improving our community and one another.

COMMUNITY JUDGEMENT

By Beckie Cohen ‘16 Junior, Ramaz Upper School

It is written in Zichronot, God judges us as a community, not just as individuals.“‫”ואתה דורש מעשה כולם‬, “And you [God] analyze the deeds of them all.” The Rav reminded us of the time we did not stick together and act appropriately in a unified manner, the Holocaust.

Previously, when people attempted to annihilate the Jewish people, we pulled together as a community and with God’s help we survived.

During Operation Protective Edge, I was in Israel working at Camp Koby, with kids who lost someone in their family, mostly from terrorism. Even in a bomb shelter filled with terror victims, we never lost faith in our nation, the IDF, and God. One morning, we visited Yad Va’shem. It was my third trip to Yad Va’shem, although my first since working with the campers and during wartime. Never was the lesson of the importance of community more vivid.

As we approach the new year, 5775, with peace in Israel still in our hopes, we must remain united as a community. The Torah reminds us that God is not looking at just one day:

‫להיך בה מרשית השנה ועד‬-‫ תמיד עיני ה׳ א‬:‫להיך דורש אתה‬-‫ארץ אשר ה׳ א‬ (‫יב‬:‫ )דברים יא‬.‫אחרית שנה‬ God is watching over us and judging us throughout the land from the beginning until the year’s end. We must focus on not falling apart. Now more than ever we need to remember “‫”עם אחד בלב אחד‬, one nation, one heart.

‫שנה טובה‬

HAYOM HARAT OLAM - TODAY MARKS the BIRTH of HUMANITY

By Dr. Rachel Pear ‘94 Ramaz Alumna living in Jerusalem, Israel

When was the dawn of humankind? Sources in the Talmud

and midrash say God created humankind in one day—on the 1st of Tishrei, but paleoanthropologists have discovered that humans evolved over the past 4 million years. How can we make sense of these two seemingly very different versions of the dawn of humanity?

According to Rabbi Soloveitchik, in The Emergence of Ethical Man, the dawn of humankind is not marked by a biological threshold, but rather by the onset of a relationship with God. R. Soloveitchik argued that tzelem elokim, the Divine image within humanity, was not a result of creation or evolution but rather of revelation.

The process of attaining the Divine image, as explained by R. Soloveitchik, had two stages: the first entailed God enabling human beings to become aware of their biological drives and desires; and the second entailed God informing humankind of the need to sometimes go against their drives and desires in order to achieve a moral act.

So while the Rav stresses that there is a community of all of nature, what he terms the plant-animal-human continuum, he stated that another kind of community—the moral community—began with tzelem elokim.

Therefore the link made by the Talmud and midrash between the dawn of humanity and the 1st of Tishrei is crucial, not because of its literal calendrical significance, but because of the essential hermeneutical connection between the advent of the moral community and Rosh Hashana—the day each Jew must measure how we have lived up to the challenge of tzelem elokim.

Ktiva v’chatima tova!

‫שנה טובה‬

Shana Tova

POWER OF COMMUNITY