Mina's Musings: Yom Kippur 2015

Yom Kippur, Idh al Adha, and Loving One Another

Boker tov, g’mar hatimah tovah, tzom kal, and as I said in my sermon last night, happy Yom Kippur to each of you.  Indeed, last night I spoke about the fact that while Yom Kippur, our day of Atonement, is the most potent and powerful and even fearful day on the calendar, it is a day that the rabbis have also always seen as one of great joy.  As such Jews around the world today are participating in a solemn yet joyous religious observance.  And through a trick of the lunar calendar, Idh al Adha, known as the Greater Idh, the second most important festival on the Muslim calendar, begins this evening.  The overlapping of Greater Idh and Yom Kippur won’t take place again until the year 2046.

Because of the overlap, and with questions of Islam, Muslims, and refugees from Muslim countries and war zones in the news, I thought I’d take this opportunity to do a little reflection with you on a midrash that bears direct relationship to Idh, Rosh Hashanah, and Yom Kippur itself. Before we get to the midrash though, what is Idh al Adha?  It is a festival observed as a public holiday in Muslim countries.  Its observance includes sacrificing a sheep or goat, praying, gathering with family, visiting friends, exchanging food and gifts and giving food and money to the poor.  And what does it celebrate?  The submission of Ibrahim’s will to Allah as he was asked to sacrifice Ismail, and then was stopped by an angel who had him sacrifice a ram in Ismail’s place.

I hope the story sounds familiar.  It is the Muslim version of the story from the Torah we read last week on the second day of Rosh Hashanah as God asked Abraham to sacrifice Isaac.  In the Torah as you know, Abraham lifted the knife to sacrifice Isaac only to be stopped by an angel who had him substitute a ram in Isaac’s place.  Henceforth, whenever we sound the shofar, God is merciful to us as He remembers Isaac’s near sacrifice.  The story and the holiday of Idh al Adha sound similar to Rosh Hashanah. For students of comparative religion this makes sense.  After all, Islam, like Christianity, is in many ways a daughter religion of Judaism. Even those who do not like such terminology acknowledge the tremendous influence ancient Jewish tradition had on the foundational stories of both Christianity and Islam.

Today there are members of both religious groups who see Judaism and Islam as enemy religions, and our peoples as doomed to fighting one another eternally.  It has been, some say, this way since the Jews of Medina were tricked and killed by Mohammed’s supporters 1,400 years ago.  Others add that it will continue this way until the messiah comes.  But it did not, does not, have to be this way.

In the Torah, Isaac, our patriarch, and Ishmael, Muslims patriarch, were brothers.  As their descendants, Jews and Muslims are therefore like cousins.  On the first day of Rosh Hashanah each year we Jews read the story of how, based on Sarah’s observance of Ishmael’s interactions with Isaac, Abraham exiled Ishmael.  On the second day of Rosh Hashanah we read the story of the Akedah, Isaac’s binding on the altar.  Both of Abraham’s sons were traumatized by Abraham’s interactions with them.  The Torah tells us that after their traumatic incidents neither Ishmael nor Isaac sees their father again during his life.  Moreover the two brothers come together only after Abraham’s death to bury him.

However, as rabbinic Jews we are blessed not only with stories of the Torah, but the many midrashim of the rabbis over the millennia.  The midrash I share today is from a ninth-century collection called Pirkei de-Rabi Eliezer.  This makes it 2,000 years after the story of Ishmael in the Torah and 300 years after the start of Islam.  The background is that in the Torah we learn that after Ishmael was exiled from Abraham’s tent, he dwelt in the wilderness of Paran and his mother found him a wife from among the daughters of Egypt.  The Torah doesn’t tell us anything about Ishmael and his wife other than that he became the father of many sons.  Our midrash – a rabbinic story about a story in the Torah - fills in the blanks. Here we go.

Ishmael dwelt in Paran and his wife was named Ayesha.  Three years after exiling Ishmael, Abraham felt compelled to visit him.  Sarah agreed that he could go, but only after he promised that he wouldn’t descend from the camel when he got to Ishmael’s tent.  So Abraham went, and when he arrived at Ishmael’s tent, Ayesha was there.  Abraham asked Ayesha where Ishmael was.  When she said he wasn’t there, Abraham asked her to give him bread and a little water before he continued his journey.  She said “I have neither bread nor water.”  In response, Abraham told her, “When Ishmael comes home, tell him this story and say to him:  A certain old man came from the land of Canaan to see you and he said, “Exchange the threshold of your house for it is not good for you.”  When Ishmael came home, Ayesha told him the story.  Ishmael understood that Abraham didn’t approve of Ayesha so he divorced her and sent word to his mother Hagar.  Hagar sent him a new bride named Fatimah.  After another three years Abraham again came to visit Ishmael, having agreed once again not to descend from his camel.  When he came to Ishmael’s tent at midday he saw Fatimah.  He asked her where Ishmael was and she said that he was with the camels in the desert.  Abraham then asked Fatimah for a little bread and water.  Fatimah fetched it and gave it to him.  Abraham arose and prayed before the Kadosh Baruch Hu, the Holy One Blessed be He on behalf of his son, and thereupon Ishmael’s house was filled with all good things of the various blessings.  When Ishmael came home, Fatimah told him what had happened, and Ishmael knew that his father’s love was still extended to him, as it is said, “Like a father pities his sons.” (Ps. 103:18)

This is an incredible story.  It tells us that our patriarch Abraham, who quickly obeyed God and exiled Ishmael, was in fact, a man conflicted.  He was torn by his faith to God, his commitment to his wife Sarah, and the love he felt for his son.  He longed to see Ishmael.  Sarah agreed to his request, but with a harsh request of her own.  Should Abraham see Ishmael, he wasn’t allowed to descend from the camel, which means he couldn’t embrace him even after so many years.

The story has many implications for our relationships - with members of our family, our fellow Jews, God, and non-Jews.  Concerning this Rabbi Jacob Schacter once wrote:  “There are tensions, sometimes, within families, between children and parents, and between parents and children; between husbands and wives and between wives and husbands; between brothers and sisters and between sisters and brothers.  The relationship may not be now what it once may have been.  But the Midrash teaches:  Get on your donkey and ride out into the desert to re-establish contact.  Do not wait until the funeral because we know that by then it will be too late.”  That is a profound message for Yom Kippur.   Over the past ten days we have all been busy reconciling with those we have hurt.  But do not fear.  Tonight when Yom Kippur is over, there is still time for reconciliation. There is time for reconciliation and healing as long as you and the one you hurt are alive.  The opportunity is not dependent on Yom Kippur but rather on us and our willingness to get on our donkey and reach out.

The midrash however is about more than our nuclear family. It is about our Jewish family.  It tells us that we should never give up on one another. It teaches us that even if we disagree fundamentally with each other, we must try to help one another, pray for one another, even love one another.   A couple weeks ago I saw something that disturbed me greatly.  A rabbi who I do not know was publicly attacked and shamed on a Facebook page for rabbis when she posted something about the Iran deal that others did not like.  The words that some of the rabbis used to attack her were shocking.    As I watched it play out I thought, “What is the point of complaining about anti-Semitism or Israel’s possible destruction by a murderous regime, if we Jews are already busy destroying one another? What kind of Judaism and Jewish ethics are we fighting for if while we are safe here in the US we hurt one another?”

This goes beyond attacking one another for our politics.  It goes right to the heart of our Jewish beliefs.  Sunday I was blessed to teach my first Confirmation class of the year.  I told my students that one of the things they’d learn this year was how to answer the inevitable questions:  “What do Jews believe about x, y, & z.”  I told them that there are usually multiple answers to such questions. This goes all the way back to the way the rabbis argued in the Talmud.  Hillel said this, Shammaid said that.  It is who we are as Jews.  Therefore we must encourage each other in our differences of opinions – and sometimes behaviors.  Each of our Jewish paths is different.  But as long as a Jew stays on the path, is learning, working to incorporate Jewish behaviors into their lives, and most importantly sees themselves as one of the tribe, it doesn’t matter what shul they go to, whether they call themselves Reform, Conservative, post-denominational, whatever.  They are our brothers and sisters, and we are bidden to treat them as such.

But back to the midrash.   It teaches us about our relationship with God this Yom Kippur day.  In the story Abraham loves and forgives Ishmael even though he is elsewhere accused of adultery, idolatry, and murder, the three most heinous sins according to our tradition.  He also prays for him and asks God to send blessings down on him.  And guess what?  God listens and blesses Ishmael.  If that’s the case then we should certainly have faith that God will most certainly love and forgive us despite OUR sins – which I am going to assume – hopefully correctly - are less severe than Ishmael’s!

Finally, our midrash tells us a little bit about our relationship with our cousins in religion.  It tells us that while in the end Ishmael left the path of Jewish tradition, he was still given God’s blessing.  We too must acknowledge that there are many paths to God.  Though Judaism is most definitely the best option for Jews – and those who want to join us, it isn’t for everyone.  Other religions have legitimate value for their adherents.  If Abraham prayed for Ishmael and wanted him to be safe, happy, and good, then we can do the same for his descendants.  Indeed we SHOULD pray that Ishmael’s descendants bring good into the world, that they live in safety, that those around them live safely as well, that the joy they feel on Idh fill their hearts tonight and throughout the year and that joy in turn fills them with brotherly love for all of humanity. 

How much better would the world be if the descendants of Isaac and the descendants of Ishmael could ALL learn to pray for one another.  And so I conclude this morning with the words of a song you all know - Hiney Mah Tov u’Mah Na’im Shevet Achim Gam Yachad – how good it is when brothers and sisters dwell in peace together.  Let us pray for the time when we dwell in peace together – Jew to Jew, Jew to Christian, Muslim, Hindu, Sikh, Bahai, atheist, and more, and let us bring that peace forward into the world.  G’mar hatimah Tovah.