It is with a certain amount of trepidation that I enter the pulpit this morning to talk to you about our Jewish belief in Resurrection – a matter of life and death. I say with “trepidation” because I am fully aware of the fact that to the sophisticated modern mind, one of the most difficult religious concepts which it is asked to accept is that of resurrection. But this morning is especially appropriate to discuss this fundamental belief. It is appropriate because in the Piyutt we recited this morning, we reaffirmed our faith in resurrection. It is appropriate because we are now congregating to memorialize the dead. It is appropriate because any of Maimonides’ 13 Principles of Faith is always appropriate. And, my friends, if I cannot succeed in “selling” resurrection to you, I hope that I can at least succeed in explaining it and its significance to you.There are three significant questions which we should answer in a discussion of this sort. They are:What is the significance of the belief in resurrection?Why is the Jew inclined to this belief?When will this phenomenon of resurrection take place?If we can answer these three questions satisfactorily, then we might perhaps be inclined to accept this uniquely Jewish precept, or, at the very least, to treat it with sympathy, respect, and solicitude.What is the significance of this faith? The Jew has never been blind to the realities of life. He recognizes the patent fact that there is much evil in this world of ours. He makes no attempt to negate or overlook these evils, because he has so often had to bear the brunt of them. He knows the tragedy of illness: a diseased child, an ailing adolescent, a man in his prime ruined by a bad heart, a frame of a human being wasting away painfully because of malignant growth, a family reduced to poverty because of their number has succumbed to a disease.He knows the evil called hunger: the emaciated form of a two-year old with bulging eyes and bloated stomach, the hunger which caus…

The story is told of an American Army unit which fought near Paris during the Second World War. Preparations were accomplished in the most thorough fashion. Battalion “D” was as ready as it ever would be. The men were trained, armed to the teeth, and assured of more than enough air and artillery support. As Zero Hour approached, the men’s confidence increased, and they felt sure that their objective would be achieved within three days. The actual story, however, was different. For two days later, Battalion “D” was in full and ignominious retreat. The mission was a failure. When an investigation was later made, it was discovered that the defeat was due to the fact that a key man, who was a scout, going ahead of the others, had forgotten his compass, and as a result, he lost his way. And when you lose your way in the thick of battle, no amount of preparation can pull through. The moral of the story, my friends, is that in every major battle in life, the most important preparations are those of the map and the compass. You have got to know what you are looking for and where you are going. And more so is this time of the great battles for freedom. On this Passover Day, we celebrate the liberation of Israel from the House of Slavery, and the Freedom G-d granted to us, as we draw new encouragement and inspiration to ever strengthen ourselves in all of Life’s fights for Freedom, we must remember to take along our compass, to know just what we want to achieve; for “Freedom” as such is an abstraction. We must reduce it to its basic elements if it is to be ours.And I would say that the compass we Jews take along with us in our great quests for Freedom has three dials, each directing us to a great goal in this fight. These three are the three most fundamental elements of our Passover Observance – Pesach, Matzoh, Marror. Perhaps we could offer a formula for what they represent – the three T’s: Time, Tenacity, and Tactic.The first of these is Pesach, the special Passover sacrif…

It is with a certain amount of trepidation that I enter the pulpit this morning to talk to you about the Jewish meaning of Resurrection – a matter of life and death. I say with “trepidation” because I am fully aware of the fact that the sophisticated modern mind finds it difficult to accept the religious concept of Techiyas Ha’meisim, or the resurrection of the dead. But this morning is especially appropriate for a discussion of this sort. It is appropriate because our Rabbis saw profuse references to Resurrection in the Passover Bible Reading of the Song of Moses. It is appropriate because we are preparing for a time when we are all together, which requires some clarification as to the role of Life and Death in Judaism. And, finally, it is appropriate because any of Maimonide’s 13 Principles of Faith is always appropriate. And, my friends, if I cannot succeed in “selling” resurrection to you, I hope that I can at least succeed in explaining it and its significance to you.

(A) Introduce self (B) As we gather here to memorialize dear departed relatives and reverence their memories, we do so in a spirit of joy and thanksgiving. (1) As Americans - first messages of Peace wafted towards us on the gentle breezes of oncoming Spring. We thank G-d for that. (2) As Jews - reversal of Russian anti-semitism, first ray of light in what threatened to be horrible nightmare. We thank G-d for that. (3) As Individuals - lived to enjoy another holiday. We thank G-d for that. (4) As Sons and Daughters - come here to pay our respects and devotions to the Sanctuary of Faith and Devotion in which our parents ministered, we do so also in a spirit of thanksgiving. If there be a tear, it is not the tear of misery, rather the tear of mellow happiness and exalted sentiment. For Yizkor is not a Death-Service. It is affirmation that Life continues beyond the Grave, that as long as the children live and as long as they worship the same G-d, so long do the parents partake of Life Eternal. When we say UTEHAI NISHMASAM TSERURAH BI'TSROR HA'CHAYIM, May their souls be bound up in the bond of Life, it is our expression of Faith that in joy and happiness, their heart can rob the grave of its victory, and the soul can rob Death of its sting. As long as we live and remember, they live. We thank G-d for that.C. How are we going to express these thanks? Are mere words sufficient? King David asked that question in Hallel: MAH ASHIV LASHEM KOL TAGMULOTEI ALAI, How can I repay the Lord for all his benefits towards me? Three answers.KOS YESHUA ESSA. I will lift the cup of salvation. Celebrate. Kiddush. L'CHAYIM. Express happiness in the usual way. Alright, we do so frequently in this synagogue too. But there must be more than that.UVISHEIM HASHEM EKRA, I will call upon the Name of the Lord. Prayer, Study, Education. WSJC invites you to do so—all year, for three times a year is far from enough. Shul open every day. Hebrew School, Senior League (gym, lecture hall) & others co…

Many of the ceremonies we perform at the Seder table were included in our Passover Ritual primarily to encourage the asking of questions. And yet one of the most provoking of questions concerns not any specific positive performance, but rather a strange and disappointing omission. There is one name that should be on our lips throughout the Seder, one personality about whom the whole Festival should be built, and yet he is not there. Why, we wonder, have the Children of Israel, in the course of the past 3,500 years, forgotten the one man who made Passover possible: Moses? In our Haggadah, we mention the Patriarch Jacob. We mention his evil uncle, Laban. We mention the villain of the story, Pharaoh. But we have absolutely nothing to say about the true Hero of the Exodus, who molded a conglomeration of Semitic slave-tribes into a Chosen People and led them from slavery to Freedom. Is this not a kind of treachery on our part? Is this not disloyalty to the greatest Jew who ever lived? Is this not, worst of all, sheer ingratitude And the answer to that question is a resounding “NO.” It is not treachery or neglect or disloyalty or ingratitude. It is a reflection of the Torah’s outlook on all of life, and a profound expression of ageless Jewish thought on the question of Man’s relationship to G-d. And that attitude and philosophy is: G-d, and not man, redeems. Only G-d, and not man, can save. Man is the tool of G-d, the means by which G-d directs the course of History. But it is G-d’s wish, G-d’s deed, G-d’s victory. Men delude themselves when they believe, whilst playing the games of diplomacy and power politics, that it is they who vanquish and wield power and determine the fate of nations. No, only in G-d does the ultimate power of defining the destinies of nations lie. Humans merely do His bidding.This belief that political, physical, and material power rests in G-d and is merely conferred upon men as messengers of the Almighty, does not apply only to tyrants and despo…

Many noble qualities have contributed to the historical cohesion and survival of the world Jewish community, despite its dispersion in exile over the face of the earth. Among these qualities, such as common religion, customs, traditions, ethnic similarity, language, home life, and so on, one stands out for its beauty, steadfastness, and its depth – ahavat yisroel, the love of one Jew for another. It is a bond, an affection, a love that transcends differences in color, language, social standing, local customs, and even opinions. It serves as the mortar for the world Jewish community, that undefinable something which always makes one Jew feel a sense of kinship with any other, which makes brothers of two men though one be fair and the other dark-skinned, though one speak only Arabic and the other only English, though one wear a hat and the other a turban and the third nothing at all.This Love of Israel is one of those enduring qualities of our people’s existence which our Rabbis found in their symbolic interpretation of that profound and sacred song we read this morning, the shir ha’shirim. Our Sages noticed that Solomon, in this holy and charming song, makes frequent reference to that fruit known as a nut. El ginas egoz yaradti, I went down to the nut-garden, says the lover in this religious poem. Why, they wondered, only this kind of garden and this kind of fruit? Since the entire poem is a symbolic dialogue between G-d and Israel, is there not something deeply significant in these words and in this metaphor? Yes, our Rabbis answered, there is a reason for this particular poetic image, for it is the symbol of Israel. Other fruits are soft-skinned, while the nut is a hard-shelled fruit. But other fruits, if placed in a basket, are such that if you remove one of them, the others are unaffected and unshaken. But take this hard-shelled nut, which seems so pugnacious and individualistic, and place them in a basket, and try to remove one of them – and the entire batch of…

As we take leave of the Passover Holiday, it behooves us to take one last look at the central theme of this all-important festival, the theme of Freedom and Slavery. Almost all our major religious events – including the Sabbath – are zecher le’yetzias mitzrayim, in some way a recapitulation of this theme of Freedom, and it is therefore, worth our while to reexamine it so that we can carry over its message from Passover, Freedom’s main religious expression, to the rest of the year.For the past week, we have been dealing with that word, Freedom, in its political sense (shiabud malchius).*Yetzias Mitzrayim*Medinat Yisrael*Free World vs Iron Curtain Countries Etc.While there is no doubt that the Freedom we celebrate does connote, to a very great extent, this concept of political independence, Freedom has a yet greater, nobler, and infinitely more sublime meaning which was expressed by Rabbi Kook, the Late Chief Rabbi of Israel in his commentary on the Siddur and Haggadah (Olat Reiyah).According to R. Kook, the difference between slave and freeman is more than one of social standing, more than a matter of government lordship or an employment relationship or enforced servitude. For a man to know if he is truly free or a slave, he must first know his INNER SELF. When he knows that inner self, when he has finally uncovered it from the morass of superficialities, then he must understand that true freedom means being true to that Inner Self, catering to it and pleasing only it, and not neglecting it while trying to please others. Living by this Inner Light, pleasing it, and gratifying it is Freedom; pleasing others and living only to please others is sheer Slavery.It is a definition that does justice to R. Kook’s worldwide reputation as a great Jewish thinker and perhaps the last of the genuine original mystics that we have had. It is, to be sure, a profound definition of Freedom that requires thinking, but it is an all-embracing one. And it includes the meaning of Freedom i…

We are here gathered this morning to participate in these Passover services of Shacharith, which also includes the Yizkor memorial. The very fact that we are here to worship a Living and Eternal G-d, and also to ask Him to remember the souls of dear departed relatives, is in itself an expression of an age-old Jewish belief – the immortality of the human soul. We pray to G-d Who is Eternal, and since He created man in His image, then man is immortal. We ask G-d to remember the soul – and therefore the soul must still exist. So that our presence here presumes our profound, though unarticulated, belief that man can achieve immortality. Though the body is perishable, the soul can live on.However, I feel sure that there is one question that must disturb many of us here this morning: Granted that immortality can be a fact. Obviously some people achieve it. No one will deny the immortality of a Moses or a Rabbi Akiva or a Maimonides. Rembrandt, Shakespeare, and Einstein, in their respective fields, have achieved this deathlessness. Dr. Jonas Salk is probably the latest in this galaxy of immortals.But that is true of people of world-wide fame, people of extraordinary ability and achievement, people of genius or power. What, however, of us common folk? What of those we memorialize this morning, and what of ourselves? Talented, perhaps, but genius? Well-liked, yes, but world-famous, no. People who are good, kind, but humble and modest and retiring — can they be said to be able to achieve immortality? Are they not swallowed up at once into this vast anonymous army of the dead, ultimately receding into eternal obscurity with the relentless passage of time? Can anyone achieve immortality?And the answer is that yes, anyone can achieve immortality. We can assure it for those we loved and are departed; we can assure it for ourselves. And the formula for the attainment of immortality by us common folk, unpretentious and unassuming, was given in symbolic form by a man who himself w…

The very fact that we are gathered here this morning to worship a Living and Eternal God, and also to ask Him to remember the souls of dear departed relatives, is in itself an expression of an age-old Jewish belief – the Immortality of the human soul. We pray to God Who is Eternal, and since He created Man in His image, then Man is immortal. We ask God to remember the soul, and therefore, the soul must still exist before God; for if not, what is the use of remembering it? So that our presence here presumes our profound though unarticulated belief that Man can achieve immortality. Though the body is perishable, the soul can live on. However, I feel sure that there is one question that must disturb many of us. Granted that immortality can be a fact. Obviously, some people achieve it. No one will deny the immortality of a Moses or a Rabbi Akiva or a Maimonides. Rembrandt, Shakespeare, and Einstein, in their respective fields, have achieved this deathlessness. Dr. Jonas Salk is probably the latest star in this galaxy of Immortals. But that is true of people of worldwide fame, people of extraordinary ability and achievement, people of genius or power. What, however, of us common folk? What of those we memorialize this morning, and what of ourselves? – talented, perhaps, but not geniuses. Well-liked, yes, but world-famous, no. People who are good, kind, but largely undistinguished in the course of usual, uneventful lives. Can they be said to be able to achieve immortality? Are they not swallowed up at once into this vast, anonymous army of the dead, ultimately receding into eternal obscurity with the relentless passage of time? Can anyone achieve immortality?And the answer is yes, anyone can achieve immortality. We can assure it for those we loved and have departed. We can assure it for ourselves. And the formula for the attainment of immortality by us unpretentious and unassuming common folk, was given in symbolic form by a man who himself was certain of eternal reveren…

This holiday of Passover might rightly be called “The Festival of Questions.” All the ceremonials of the Seder are performed with an eye to provoking questions from our children. The Hagaddah is in answer to the Four Questions asked by the youngest child. The famous “Four Sons” are distinguished from each other by the nature of the questions they pose. The hymn Echad Mi Yodeia is in the form of a series of questions. A Festival of Questions indeed!Well, then, what are the questions we must learn? The Mah Nishtanah is the series of four questions which a child asks. What about the mature adult, he who would live a rich, meaningful, spiritual Jewish life? Here too, there are questions – but they must not only be verbalized. They must be lived. They must be asked by every fiber of our being; we must experience them to our innermost core, and our entire being must partake of those questions. They are questions that must be lived if we are to attain the spiritual insights, the religious maturity, and the wholeness of life which can be ours if we ask properly.One of these is: matzah zu sheanu ochlin al shum mah? – Why do we eat this Matzah? Those who know Hebrew well will recognize that the root for the word matzah means “to fight,” as in the verse shnei anashim ivrim mitzim… And with this understanding of the original root of the word – and there is a logical connection, too, for people fight others for their bread, just as milchamah is related to lechem – our question becomes: G-d, why must there always be war? Why can’t people learn to live in peace? Why is it that this world is filled with so much dissension and discord, so much strife and struggle? Why cannot the greatest war ever fought in history just evaporate after its conclusion instead of freezing into permanent hostility, into a “cold war?” Why must young lives ever be sacrificed on the altars of greed and hate? Why must an Israel, which so speaks and seeks peace, be swaddled in bloodshed, nursed in battle, a…