Rabbi Hannah Orden

When we hear the word ‘commandments,’ we usually think of the famous 10 commandments that we read in this week’s Torah portion:

“I am Adonai your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery.

“You shall have no other gods before me.

“You shall not make for yourself an image in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters below.  You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I, Adonai your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the parents to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me,  but showing love to a thousand generations of those who love me and keep my commandments.  “You shall not misuse the name of Adonai your God, for Adonai will not hold anyone guiltless who misuses his name.   “Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy.  Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to Adonai your God. On it you shall not do any work, neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your male or female servant, nor your animals, nor any foreigner residing in your towns.  For in six days Adonai made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but he rested on the seventh day. Therefore Adonai blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy. ² “Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land Adonai your God is giving you.  “You shall not murder.   “You shall not commit adultery.  “You shall not steal.   “You shall not give false testimony against your neighbor.  “You shall not covet your neighbor’s house. You shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, or his male or female servant, his ox or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor.”

But if we go back a few chapters to Exodus Chapter 12, we discover the very first commandment that God gives to the Israelites as a People.  This month shall be for you the first month…(Ex 12:2) The month that God is talking about is the month of Nissan, the month when we celebrate Passover, the commemoration or reenactment of the Exodus from Egypt.  One could interpret God’s words as a command to always remember the possibility of liberation, the possibility of transformation.

That interpretation of God’s first command makes even more sense in Hebrew.  As is often the case, we lose quite a bit in translation.  I have no idea what the derivation of the word ‘month’ is, but in Hebrew the word is chodesh from the same root as the verb l’chadesh, to renew or make new.  It’s easy to say where they got the idea of calling a month ‘‘newness’ because each month the moon reappears in the sky.  Even in English we call it the new moon.  And it also makes sense that the first month, this chodesh, this newness, should be in the month of Nissan, the month that celebrates our liberation from slavery to freedom, and the month that falls in springtime, when nature is reawakening.

This is God’s first command to us as a free people – Take note of this chodesh, this newness; pay attention to renewal, remember the possibility of transformation.

I have been thinking about this over the past two weeks since I was here.  It was a particularly eventful two weeks.  The shootings in Arizona were followed by the death of Debbie Friedman.  The burial of nine-year-old Christina Taylor Green, followed by the commemoration of the birthday of Martin Luther King.  At first glance, none of these events seems to point to renewal.  But, in fact, I believe they do.  At Shabbat services last Friday, the rabbi of our congregation spoke about Debbie Friedman’s contributions to Jewish life.  She mentioned that when Debbie began writing songs that combined the folk traditions of the 1960s and 70s with Jewish liturgy in both Hebrew and English, she was told that her music could never be accepted in synagogues!  Not only did Friedman go on to perform sold-out concerts at Carnegie hall, but her music has become so integral to our liturgy that the lyrics are printed in our new Reform prayer book.  This week I read in the Forward that last spring Friedman, who never had any formal musical training, was hired to train cantors at HUC-JIR in Los Angeles and was made an honorary member of the American Conference of Cantors.

This whole inspiring story reminded me of the celebration of first women rabbis that I attended in December.  All of these women were surrounded by teachers and fellow students who did not share their vision.  Yet, all of these pioneers heard God’s command – Pay attention to this chodesh, this possibility of newness and transformation.  All of them imagined something new that had never existed in the world, and those things came to be.

Christina Taylor-Green was the only girl on her Little League team, and she dreamed of becoming the first woman to play in the major leagues.  Christina was only nine years old when she died, but she too had a vision of something new in the world.

As did Martin Luther King.  His famous dream was a vision of transformation.  A dream that America could truly become a place of equality and justice for all our citizens.  Abraham Joshua Heschel introduced Dr. King to the Rabbinical Assembly where King spoke on March 25, l968, just a few weeks before he was assassinated.  Heschel said:
Where in America do we hear a voice like the voice of the prophets of Israel? Martin Luther King is a sign that God has not forsaken the United States of America….. Martin Luther King is a voice, a vision and a way.  I call upon every Jew to hearken to his voice, to share his vision, to follow his way.  The whole future of America will depend upon the impact and influence of Dr. King.

When our visionaries, our dreamers die too young, there is a tendency to feel defeated.   The loss is real.  The loss of a Christina Green or a Debbie Friedman or a Martin Luther King matters.  But it is also true that their dreams have a life of their own.  Their dreams, whether or not they are fulfilled in their lifetimes, have already created something new in the world.  They have created a vision, a possibility of transformation.

Rabbi Michael Lerner writes in his book Moses and the Revolutionary Community:

“In my interpretation of the Torah, idolatry consists of taking that which is and treating it as all that could be – worshipping the real without noticing that a key aspect of the real is its ability to be transformed into that which could be.”

“God’s name – yod-heh-vav-heh – is a provocative way of saying BE in the future tense because God is the Force that pulls us to move beyond what is to what ought to be.”

Jewish tradition includes the possibility of ultimate Redemption as we move toward a messianic age of peace and Justice.  But our tradition also points us to the path toward Redemption in the form of ongoing opportunities for renewal and transformation.  The Mishnah speaks of four ‘New Years’ – The first of Nissan is the new year for beginning the cycle of holidays each year; the first of Elul is the new year for tithing; the first of Tishrei (what we think of as Rosh Ha Shana) is the new year for determining the Sabbatical year when the land lies fallow every 7 years and the Jubilee year when all slaves are freed and all debts remitted every 50 years; and the 15^th of Shevat that we celebrate this week is the New Year of the Trees.  That’s a lot of new years!  In addition to four New Year celebrations, we also celebrate the new moon each month.  And in our morning liturgy we gratefully acknowledge the return of the sun each day with the words:

Ha m’chadesh b’chol yom tamid ma’asei b’reishit.

We bless God for renewing each day the ongoing miracle of Creation.

This evening we remember our dreamers and our visionaries, and we commit ourselves to be among those who fulfill God’s command to take note of this chodesh, this ongoing opportunity for transformation. Each year, each month, each day, the possibility is always there to create something new.