Second Day of Rosh Hashanah - The Cry of the Stranger

Many of you are aware that I began the New Year with an accident. My daughter Meira was driving for the first time as a licensed driver when we were rear-ended by another teenage driver on Spring Mill Road. I spent most of that Sunday in the emergency room of St. Vincent Hospital. It was a very difficult day for us as ironically, it was also the first anniversary of Ilene's death on the secular calendar. My immediate concern was how were my daughters going to get to school in the morning since I normally drive them to high school before seven o'clock. Luckily, someone offered my daughters a ride - but they had to leave the house very early in the morning. In all the rush and confusion of the accident, one of my daughters left an assignment on the dining room table. When she told her teacher about her predicament, the teacher said. "You get a zero for your assignment." I called the teacher and explained that my family had been in an accident and that I was a widower raising four daughters and that the accident occurred on the first anniversary of my wife's death. The teacher responded, "Well, I don't know what it's like to walk in your shoes, but I have policies. I can't change my policies."

On the first day of Rosh Hashanah, we read the story of the passionate cry of the stranger. We tell the story of Hagar, the Egyptian slave-wife of Abraham. Her very name means, "the stranger" - from the Hebrew word "ger". Hagar is a lowly concubine, thrust out of the tent of Abraham because of the jealousy of Sarah. Hagar wanders in the desert with her son Ishmael, crying for help. This episode is the very first time in the Bible that a messenger from God, an angel, appears to intercede on a human's behalf. Ironically, it is a downtrodden slave, a woman, a non-Israelite who moves God to intervene. Ultimately, it is God who hears her call. God shows her a well of water that lies in the distance. Because of God's compassion, Hagar and Ishmael survived their abandonment in the wilderness. Rosh Hashanah calls us to remember the stranger.

Jewish legend tells us that the great sin of Sodom, the city whose name is synonymous with Evil, was cruelty to strangers. The midrash shares that when a visitor sought lodging in Sodom - if he was tall, he was placed in a short bed. On the other hand, if he was short, his legs were stretched to fill a large bed. For our tradition, cruelty to strangers was the hallmark of the evil personality.

On the other hand, kindness to strangers was the measure of the tsaddik, the righteous individual. The Torah shares with us that Abraham was conversing with God when three messengers came to his tent. Abraham took leave of God in order to entertain the visitors. Hospitality to the travelers took precedence over encountering the Shekhinah, the Divine presence.

"Remember the stranger because you were strangers in the land of Egypt." The experience of isolation, alienation, and estrangement in Egypt is the source of the ethical impulse in Judaism. Show kindness to the orphan and the widow - because you were strangers in the land of Egypt. Be compassionate to the poor - because you were an alien yourself. Be fair to those in your borders because you were slaves to Pharaoh. Love of the stranger is the imperative of our tradition.

Sadly, we, as Jews, know all too well what it is to be homeless. During the nineteen thirties, when Hitler rose to power in Europe, he first attempted to export German Jews to other countries. The Evian Conference on Jewish Emigration showed that sadly, that the world was not interested in offering any Jews refuge. Only the Dominican Republic was receptive to receiving any of our European brothers and sisters. The United States would not change in its immigration policies. When Eleanor Roosevelt suggested that some Jewish children be provided asylum in the United States, her proposal was vehemently opposed. Canada, a vast, under-populated country made her policy clear. "None is too many." England passed the White Paper curtailing Jewish immigration into Palestine, where the Yishuv, the Jewish community of the Land of Israel, would have welcomed them with open arms. In every generation, the eternal question of Cain is asked again, "Am I my brother's keeper?" Sadly, all too often in human history, the answer has been, "No.".

Of course, this is why Israel is committed to granting refuge to any Jewish person in the world - whatever their age, their place of origin, or their socio-economic status. Israel has provided a home for the isolated Jews of Yemen, the worldly Jews of Germany, the cultured Jews of Russia, and religious Jews from everywhere. Israel is the only country in history to bring Africans to its borders not as slaves, but as proud, free citizens. Israel continues to absorb the Falas Mura - the secret Jews of Ethiopia - into its population. Israel realized that the human capital of its immigrants was its greatest potential. As the New Year begins, Israel has announced that it has almost seven million citizens - including its 1.4 million citizens who are Palestinian Israelis. This year, 120,000 Israelis were born. Israel has a per capita income of $19,000 - higher than Portugal, Spain, and New Zealand. Israel brought in the elderly, the sick, and the disabled Israel only has one goal for its citizens - that they might live in shalom, in peace.

Because we have felt that sense of alienation and rejection, we Jews must remember others. It is noteworthy that American Jewish organizations have taken a leadership role in the crisis in Darfrur, in the Sudan. Several hundred thousand individuals have died in the crossfire of the Sudanese Civil War. Jewish organizations will not be silent in the face of genocide, no matter where or how it occurs. Our rabbis learn this beautiful lesson from the stork. The Hebrew word for "stork" is "hassida", which means kindly and merciful. However, our sages noted that the stork is not a kosher bird. Our rabbis ask, "Why?" They responded that the stork's kindness is only for its own kind, not for other species. It has a limited understanding of compassion. Although our sages realized that charity begins at home, they felt it must extend to all of humanity. They expressed this concept as "mipnei darchei shalom" - to promote peace between Israel and the nations. They recommended that we should consider the needs of the poor of all people.

I must share with you have moved I have been by our congregation's response to the devastation caused by Hurricanes Katrina and Rita. When Stacey Bunes learned that her co-worker was one of the evacuees from New Orleans and had returned to Indianapolis, she immediately began a clothing drive at Shaarey Tefilla. Our Sisterhood graciously responded and we made a significant contribution to the evacuees at the Fairgrounds. This past week, Rabbi Aaron Spiegel from the Indianapolis Center for Congregations shared with me that two members from the Baton Rouge, Louisiana Jewish community would be attending a fall conference at the Center for Congregations. The conference called Sacred Spaces is about constructing a new congregation. We at Shaarey Tefilla have attended this conference as we initiate the development of our new home. However, the Jews of Baton Rouge have no choice. Hurricane Rita destroyed their synagogue. They are attending a conference in Indianapolis because they have to start over from scratch. Rabbi Spiegel asked if the Jewish community of Indianapolis would extend themselves to the Baton Rouge people for four days. Immediately, ten members from our congregation offered food, lodging, and transportation. I must tell you that Rabbi Spiegel was overwhelmed by our generosity - which I might add, was the most generous offer that he received from any institution in the Indianapolis Jewish Community. Assisting others begins on an intimate personal level. If we can make a difference in the life of one person or one community, we will have made an incredible impact. We recall that wonderful quote from the Talmud, "The person who save one life is as though that person saved an entire world." Every person is worth an entire world since we are all children of the first person, Adam. Every person is a unique individual with special gifts and talents.

Our goal at Shaarey Tefilla has always been to make everyone feel that our congregation is their second home. Most of our members use that beautiful Yiddish word "heimeshe" to describe who we are. We are the synagogue that feels like home. Let us embody the beautiful words of Isaiah. These are the words that were uttered when I first entered rabbinical school 25 years ago - I am an antique, I officially belong to AARP, although I have no intentions of retiring. "Shalom, shalom larahok v'lakarov". Peace, peace to those who are distant and those who are near. Our president has phrased it simply each week on the announcements. Bring a friend to shul. If you don't know someone, go over and introduce yourself.

Of course, we are most proud of our members whose live revolves about our congregation. They are here for services - week in and week out. They are the pillars of the minyan. They serve on our board of directors. They work on our committees. They are the incredible workers of our Sisterhood.

However, I know that there may be many of us - for one reason or another - have sometimes felt alienated from the synagogue, from our fellow Jews, and from the Jewish community. Let us embrace the mitzvah of "keruv" - of drawing close those who feel that they have been abandoned and neglected. We are very proud of the educational program we have created for our students - not only of Sunday religious education, but also of student-led services and family education experiences. Right now, our students are leading services at both Hooverwood and Park Regency. What better way to teach our students to care about the infirm and the elderly than to have them lead services on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. We know that our congregation embraces those who are new to this city as well as to those who are rooted here for many generations. We reach out to those who have chosen Judaism as their personal faith as well as those who have diverse families. Shaarey Tefilla has always been there for our friends who have confronted profound illness and loss in their lives - I know this personally and I am extremely grateful for it. There is no greater isolation than confronting with profound illness and loss. Let us always be there for our friends in need. Our goal has always been to create a spiritual community of concern and support. Let us never treat each other as strangers. "Kol Yisrael arevim zeh bazeh." All Israel is one fellowship.

I ask all of you - especially our newcomers and our new members, to help us to build a kehilla kedosha, a sacred community of prayer, study, and fellowship. Please think about committing yourself to one of our services on a regular basis - whether it be on Shabbat evening or Shabbat morning. Help us with our minyan on Monday night at the synagogue or Wednesday night at Hooverwood. We are grateful for our new Sunday morning minyan with bagels and lox brunch. We want to continue to build our educational programs for our students and our adults. Remember that a synagogue is much more than a building, it is each and everyone of us creating a community.

Ultimately, God heard the voice of Hagar and made her realize that a well of water was within her vision. The alienated, estranged woman survived the ordeal of the wilderness. Fortunately, although my car was totaled, no one in my family was injured. After discussing it with a few people at North Central High School, I think I made my point that compassion to others is the most important lesson. No student deserves a zero when they have a difficult personal situation. Oddly enough, this lesson was obvious to my bank officer at Banc One in Broad Ripple. I had to have a notarized form for my dead car. When I told her I was in an accident, she gave me a big hug and said - as only an African-American mother can - "Baby, are you all right?" This is what we must do as we embrace the New Year - embrace one another - especially the stranger within our midst.