Many
years ago,[i]
in the autumn of 1863, a horrible plague, a cholera (kaa-lir-uh) epidemic, ravaged
the Jewish community of Vilna. There was
not one house where someone did not lose a loved one. Rabbi Israel Salanter, the great sage of
Vilna, fretted as Yom Kippur approached.
Too many in the community were sick, weakened by this plague. What would happen to their health if they decided
to fast on Yom Kippur? He took counsel
with physicians and recognized quickly that something must be done.
As the
Yom Kippur morning service began, the great rabbi slowly approached the podium. His voice was weak but grew stronger and
louder by the minute. “Today is a holy
day of repentance and prayer, for the living and the dead, and of a plague that
has broken out, for how long, we do not know!
When trouble comes, each person must look at their deeds, but also at
their own body, flesh, and health. Each
of us shall live by God’s commandments, not die by them. There are times when one must turn aside from
the Law and by doing so, a whole community may be saved.”
The
entire congregation remained quiet, weeping.
“I am
eighty years old and I have never transgressed a mitzvah. But “choosing life,” this too is a mitzvah!” With strong resolve and defiance, the rabbi
called out: “Eat, Jews, eat! Go now and
eat!”
But not
one soul in the shul stirred, not one person moved from their seat!
“Shammas,
it must be done!” The shammas, the
synagogue attendant, entered the sanctuary with a cup of wine, challah, and some
cake. The great sage, Rabbi Israel
Salanter, made kiddish and motzi. Then,
in front of the entire congregation, on Yom Kippur morning, he ate and drank as
did the entire Jewish community of Vilna.
People
were scared, terrified about their health and yet no one wished to break their
fast on Yom Kippur. Rabbi Salanter gave
the community permission to eat. His
actions saved countless lives. He taught
that this was not a personal decision, for it is a communal obligation to
choose life.
Rabbi
Salanter believed staunchly in the commandment found in this morning’s Torah
reading, “I call heaven and earth to witness against you this day: I have put
before you life and death, blessing and curse.
Choose life – so that you and your children may live…”[ii]
As so
many of you know, our Jewish tradition teaches that the mitzvah of pikuach
nefesh, saving a life, supersedes each and every one of the other
commandments. We are required to do
everything in our power to save and support life.
I don’t
know about you, but I’ve been struggling over these last few years. It sure seems that American society devalues
life, disregards the health and safety of our neighbors, and does absolutely
nothing to protect life. American
society prioritizes personal needs, personal liberties, over the needs and welfare
of the entire community. Whether in reaction
to covid restrictions during the early days of the pandemic or the increase of
gun violence, I’ve become dismayed as our country blatantly disregards the
lives of those who are most vulnerable.
Just last
week, a member of our congregation watched helplessly as a lock-down occurred at
her child’s school. For hours she didn’t
hear any information at all. Can you imagine
waiting hours to learn about your child’s health and safety? And all of us bear witness to the continue rise
of gun deaths, as the scourge of violence effects every corner of our beloved
city.
Our American
society values the Second Amendment and the rights of gun owners over the
wellbeing of those in our broader community. This is an attack on our Jewish values. As Rabbi Fred Scherlinder Dobb teaches, “Like
Americanism, Judaism cherishes freedom, always yoked with responsibility. Emphasizing one’s freedom to shoot over
others’ freedom to live fails the test.
We must bring the prophetic, justice-seeking, lifesaving,
pro-reasonable-regulation Jewish perspective proudly to bear in the public
square.”[iii]
One group
who courageously and defiantly brought their voices to bear in the public
square were the teenagers at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland,
Florida.[iv] Cameron Kasky, Alfonso Calderon, X Gonzalez,
David Hogg, and dozens of other teens, joined together to create #NeverAgain
and the March for Our Lives. These teen
activists encouraged thousands to travel to Tallahassee and later to Washington
to become the largest youth led movement since the Vietnam War.
Their
actions spurred chapters across America allowing millions of voices to be heard. They registered thousands of new voters, increased
youth turnout at elections, and continue to work towards passing universal
background checks, assault weapons ban, and other laws to limit gun violence.
This
movement was led not by one person, but by an entire community. Dozens of teen leaders, parents, teachers,
youth and people of all ages, came together, a true grassroots movement. It’s reminiscent of our Torah reading this
morning, “You stand here this day, all of you, in the presence of Adonai your
God – your tribal heads, elders, and officials; every man, woman, and child of
Israel; and the stranger in the midst of your camp; from the one who cuts your
wood to the one who one draws your water – to enter into the covenant of Adonai
your God…”[v]
Our
Jewish tradition believes in communal solidarity. Today, on Yom Kippur and every day, we commit
a covenantal oath to each other and to all in our broader community. We must stand together: young and old, rich
and poor, elder to woodcutter, to choose life.
We have a responsibility for each other’s health and wellbeing. In our tradition we say: Kol Yisrael
Aravim Zeh be’zeh, that we must all take care of each other. that we must choose
life together!
And yet,
there is a perception in America of what it means to choose life or what it
means to be “pro-life.” This phrase “choose
life” might even seem foreign to you as a member of our liberal Jewish
community. I suspect that most of us do
not define ourselves as “pro-life.” Conservative
Christianity has coopted language that is truly at the heart of our
religion. As Jews, we are, and have
always been pro-life, for we are commanded to “choose life.” As a Jewish community, we define pro-life
differently.
Being
“pro-life” in a Jewish context means valuing all life and protecting the health
of all people, especially the life of the pregnant person. From the Torah until today, our rabbis have taught that
the life of the pregnant person is prioritized over that of the fetus; for the
fetus in Jewish law is not yet a life. In
the Babylonian Talmud, we learn that the fetus is merely fluid until day
40. After forty days, the fetus becomes
a physical part of the pregnant person’s body.
It is not until the head emerges during childbirth that our tradition
believes that the fetus becomes a person.[vi]
This
is not just a liberal perspective, from Reform to Orthodox, Jewish tradition
believes a pregnant person’s life is sacrosanct. This summer the Orthodox Union, representing Modern
Orthodox synagogues came out with this statement, “[The] same mandate to
preserve life requires us to be concerned for the life of the mother. Jewish
law prioritizes the life of the pregnant mother over the life of the fetus such
that where the pregnancy critically endangers the physical health or mental health
of the mother, an abortion may be authorized, if not mandated, by Halacha and
should be available to all women irrespective of their economic status. Legislation and court rulings-federally or in
any state-that absolutely ban abortion without regard for the health of the mother
would literally limit our ability to live our lives in accordance with our
responsibility to preserve life.”[vii]
Our Jewish community came together this summer to speak as one around the issue of Abortion. Even still, it is difficult to speak openly about the need for an abortion and to share our stories publicly. That’s why I am in awe of the bravery of Rabbi Rachel Pass who last year shared in an editorial of her decision to have an abortion while in rabbinical school. Rabbi Pass learned just after Rosh Hashanah in her second year of school that she had accidentally conceived. As she shares, “I chose life when I left Literary Artistry of the Bible early on a Thursday afternoon to walk the few short blocks from Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion’s New York campus to the Margaret Sanger Planned Parenthood on Bleecker Street. I took the first pill in a quiet office, sitting across from a doctor who looked just like me… There is nothing more sacred than the right to live one’s life as one chooses – and to choose life, and to choose blessing. In having an abortion, I chose my life.”[viii]
As a Jewish community, we “choose life” when
we care for the life and health of the pregnant person. As Rabbi Rachel Pass shares: “As Jews, if
anyone, ever again, tries to argue that abortion restrictions are justified
under the prerogative of religious freedom, we can explain that our religious freedom demands
that we have access to abortion care when it is needed and wanted.”
It's hard to push back against American
society and the religious fervor of conservative Christianity or rightwing
political opinions. And yet, we are
required to stand up and “choose life.”
Rabbi Shefa Gold teaches that “Choosing, means being able to… stand
against the flow of mainstream culture, and to stand for values that are
positively counter-cultural…”[ix]
That’s what we Jews do! We stand up against mainstream culture and
proudly proclaim that our Jewish values demand that we take care of the most
vulnerable.
That’s what happened, some 250 years ago when
a cholera plague ravaged the Jewish community of Vilna. The great Rabbi Israel Salanter stood upon a
bima, like this one, recited kiddish and motzi, and in act of defiance ate and drank
on Yom Kippur. So many were already sick
and would be weakened if they fasted.
That day, Rabbi Salater’s actions, and the community’s actions, saved countless
lives.
On this Yom Kippur, we too must stand together. As our society crumbles, as our nation devalues
life and fails to take care of the most vulnerable, we must act. As gun violence increases, as our Supreme
Court, and our state governments all over this country make it easier to subvert
our religious values and ignore the health and wellbeing of a pregnant person,
we must act. It is time to stand firm as
did Rabbi Salanter, to be as brave as Rabbi Pass, and to be as defiant as the
teenagers of Parkland. Life is precious,
life is vulnerable, life is fleeing, on this day of Yom Kippur, we must
remember that it is life that matters most.
“I have put before you life and death, blessing and curse. Choose life – so that you and your
children may live…” May we reclaim the
meaning of what it means to be pro-life.
May we stand firm in our Jewish values that the communal needs must supersede
personal liberties. May we do all that
we can, to end violence, to protect the vulnerable, and to take care of those
who are pregnant. May we always, may we
always, “choose life.” Amen.
[i]
There are many different versions told of this story. Some scholars believe that Rabbi Salanter did
eat on Yom Kippur, others believe he just encouraged those who were weak to
eat. Still others, believe that the
day’s service was shortened and that the Rabbi encouraged congregants to remain
outdoors in the fresh air. Different
versions are told by David Frischmann, Three Who Ate (http://fullonlinebook.com/poems/three-who-ate/lpbc.html)
published in 1911. Louis Ginzberg
also shared more of this story in Students, Scholars, and Saints (p.
184-185) https://archive.org/details/studentsscholars028068mbp/page/n195/mode/2up?q=jacob
and much more information can be found here as well: https://www.talmudology.com/jeremybrownmdgmailcom/2020/2/18/berachot-50-the-three-who-ate-on-yom-kippur-for-feb-22
[ii] Deuteronomy
30:19
[iv] https://www.newyorker.com/news/news-desk/how-the-survivors-of-parkland-began-the-never-again-movement
[v]
Deuteronomy 29:9-11
[vi] Babylonian
Talmud, Yevamot 69b; Babylonian Talmud, Gittin 23b; Mishnah, Ohalot 7:6
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