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…

I-a) As old man once said, realistically, that he doesn't fear death – but he does fear dying i.e. the event of death is not so frightening in itself as the feeling that there is nothing beyond. b) This points to the desire for immortality – of prophecy self now future לא אמות כי אחי' c) These ways: II – First way: a) children – name is carried on. b) יעקב אבינו לא מת... וכי בכדי ספדו ספדנייא וחנטו חנטייא, וקברו קברייא... מקיש הוא לזרעו, מה זרעו בחיים אף הוא בחיים (תענית צ"ה ע"ב) c) i.e. they carry his name, ∴ immortality. III. Second way a) not only children – they can perpetuate name, but not to parents'

1. Sin is not congenital (anti-Christian), it is acquired ברוך אתה בבואך, ברוך אתה בצאתם – כשם שביאתך לעולם בלא חטא כך יציאתך מן העולם בלי חטא. 2. Sin is a sickness or disease. Rambam refers to sin as חלי נפש. Talmud refers to it as temporary insanity – אם אדם חוטא אא"כ נכנסה בו רוח שטות. (Then there's some פסול much as רפאני ה' כי חטאתי – look it up). 3. The sinner, therefore, is not doomed meritably, but has to be "cured". In Haftorah from Isaiah, 2 ways of dealing with sinner as mentioned. One:

(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…

Perhaps the most devastating comment ever made on the nature of Man’s whole life and all his so-called accomplishments, is contained in the words we recite after the ונתנה תוקף prayer: אדם יסודו מעפר וסופו לעפר, בנפשו יביא לחמו משול כחרס הנשבר, כחציר יבש, וכחציץ נובל, כצל עובר, וכענן כלה, וכרוח נושבת, וכאבק פורח, וכחלום יעוף. “Man’s origin is dust, and his end is also in dust. He earns his livelihood at the risk of his life. He is like fragile earthenware, like a fading flower, like the passing shadow, like dissipating clouds and blowing winds and floating dust and a transient dream.”Yes, Man’s life is like all these things, and especially – woe unto him – like a passing shadow. For a young man who today worships may next year lie mangled on a cold, bloody battlefield. The mature head of a household who today is substantial and assured of financial security for himself, his wife, and his children, may next year be driven to seek “relief.” The man, woman and child who today is in the best of health, may soon be victimized by crippling paralysis, by dreaded heart disease, by terrorizing cancer. The world which today laughs and cries and goes about its usual business may next year be only a dim memory in the grim mushroom-cloud of atomic or hydrogen destruction. May G-d forbid such things to happen. But such things do happen. For all of Life is k’tzeil oveir – like a passing shadow – nothing more.But does that mean that Man must abandon himself to hopelessness? Is Man to despair because his life is so short, so insecure, and insubstantial? If life is only a passing shadow, does that therefore mean that man can do nothing about it or with it, that it is meaningless?Our Sages were quick to point out that such is not the case. For while Life is a shadow, it is still up to us to decide what kind of shadows our lives are going to be. For a shadow, insubstantial and immaterial though it be, does have constructive uses. For the weary traveler on a hot, dusty summer road, a …

The significance of Shemini Atzeret, the "last days" of this long Sukkot festival, was explained by our Rabbis by means of an interesting and quaint story. G-d to Israel: Kashah alai p’ridatchem... hisa’akvu me’at. "Parting" brings to mind another scene, a scene which is touching and full of pathos. For if parting is, as Shakespeare would have it, "such sweet sorrow," we realize that it entails more sorrow than sweetness. Such a sorrowful scene, not unmixed with the sweetness of sympathy and tenderness, took place between the Prophet Elijah and his student, who was to him more like a son than a stranger — Elisha. Elisha turns to Elijah after *esheqah na l’avi u’l’imi va’eilchah acharecha*. And then the time comes when they must part, when Elijah, tired after a life of wandering and battling for the supremacy of the Word of G-d, must respond to the Heavenly Call which summons him to retire from life in a whirlwind. And here Elisha, young and still frightened of the horrendous tasks that face a prophet, must see his beloved teacher — indeed, the man who was his father (*avi, avi*) — leave this life.Elijah espies the anxiety in the eyes of his beloved Elisha and says: *She’al ma e’eseh lach b’terem elakach mei’imach*, “Tell me, my son, what can I do for you now, as I am being taken away from you and leaving you on your own?” And Elisha, looking in adoration and love at his departing older friend, summons up all the emotion in his frail frame and cries, with the true spirit of a prophet: *Vihi na pi shnayim b’ruchacha eilai*, “Master, let me have twice your spirit.” And Elijah answers him, saying: *Hiksheita lish’ol*, “You have made a difficult request, but *im tireh oti lukach mei’itach, yehi lecha kein*,” “if you can see me after I am gone, then your request is granted.”How strange, is it not, that young Elisha should ask for twice the spirit of Elijah? Would he not have been satisfied with accomplishing what his teacher did? Why did Elisha feel he needed *pi shnayim…

Despite the gaiety and joy which attaches to this Shmini-Atzeret-Simchat Torah period, the pathetic figure of Moses dominates the theme of this holiday. In Zot Haberachah, the last sidra of the Torah which we read during this holiday, we meet up with Moses as he prepares to die. And Moses, despite the loftiness of his prophecy, the heights of his spirit and the nobleness of his whole life, is essentially a warm and profoundly human being. He wanted to live. He found it difficult to reconcile himself with God’s notice that he would die here, overlooking the Land of Israel, and that he would not live to set foot in it. And how he begged God for just a bit more, for just that bit of nachas to be able to feel this Promised Land under the soles of his feet! If not alive, let them take my ashes there. If not as leader, let me enter as an ordinary Jew. And God says, No, my son, veshamah lo ta’avor, you cannot enter it, neither as leader, nor alive, nor even dead (Sifri, Yalkut Shimoni). And then the pathos and beauty of this scene are made even greater as our rabbis picture Moses, acting under Divine command, writing the last words of the Torah, and writing – not with ink but with his own tears – the words vayamat sham Mosheh, “And Moses died there,” there, on the eastern bank of the Jordan, and buried there, there on the eastern bank of the Jordan, and not in the beloved, Promised Land.Now our rabbis, when reading and studying this portion which we have just described, made some very interesting remarks which are somewhat astonishing. Darash Reb Samlai: Torah techilatah gemillat chasadim vesofah gemillat chasadim. Techilatah, dikhtiv ‘vayaas Hashem Elokim laadam ule’ishto ktonet or vayalbishem’; vesofah, dikhtiv ‘vayikbor oto bagai’ (Sotah 14a). The Torah begins with an act of kindness and charity on the part of God and ends with the same. The beginning act of Divine generosity is where God makes clothing for Adam and Eve, and dresses them, after their sin. And the final…

Yom Tov is an occasion of Simchah, hence a supreme exercise in full living; Yizkor is a memorial prayer, hence opportunity think of the end of life; and Yizkor on Yom Tov is the time to discuss relationship life to death; better, what is meaning, if any, of death, and what can living learn from its harsh, grievous consequences? The meaning of death for those who remain living must be approached by us, who are religious Jews, from Torah point of view. And that Torah attitude comes as an affirmative answer to the question: Is death just? Those who lost dear… have had that agonizing question pierce hearts: where is the justice…? And Torah says, Yes, as grievous, as terrible, as painful as it is, it is not only inevitable but just… tzidduk ha’din…Why does Judaism… just? Because it posits as one of its first principles: baalus ha’Shem… we are His kinyanim, acquisitions…to our way of thinking, life itself is not ours as a gift, but only a trust, something to watch and guard but which belongs to G-d…. byadcha afkid ruchi…Essentially, this was the reason for makkos, which led to the Exodus… Pesach… Taught Pharaoh – and all people – Nile not yours, Egypt not yours, own bodies… life itself…This idea is expressed in all its stark, even beautiful, simplicity in the famous story Bruriah and R. Meir… pikadon… ha’Shem nassan v’ha’Shem lakach y’hi ahem ha’Shem m’vorach…But surely the picture Bruriah painted was less simple than all that. Did not R. Meir know what every schoolboy reads Bible knows?... No, if we want to understand the depth of her remarks, we must visualize more dramatically the metaphor of Bruriah, see its sharpness and subtleness, the nuances of psychology, and the play of emotions.I believe that Bruriah told the story in more of the following manner:... (JB interpretation emphasize… thought pikadon really matanah… so children)Death is tragic, but just – and becomes bearable when we realize that those closest to us never belonged to us, were merely trust entrusted…

(1) In a few moments, we shall recite the Yizkor, in which we ask G-d to remember with compassion the souls of beloved, departed relatives. We shall mention by name those relatives with whom we today reassociate, and for whose remembrance we petition G-d. And the fact that we so do, that we invoke the memory of individual human beings long after they have passed from this earthly scene, that we remember them by name, that we recall the love and tenderness of our personal relationships with them, betrays a profound respect for the individuality of the human being. It betrays an attitude of reverence for the individual as individual, as a human being, as someone worthy and possessing dignity.This is, of course, a fundamental teaching of our Torah. Man is not just another animal, simply a highly developed mammal. He was created b’tzelem Elokim, in the Image of G-d. He has a soul – and that means that he has individuality, that each and every person is uniquely the bearer of a Divine spark. When we grant the Bible’s teaching that man is created in G-d’s image, then we understand R. Akiva’s exclamation, chaviv adam she’nivra b’tzelem – Beloved is man that he was created in the Divine image. Man – each and every one of us – becomes beloved, precious, indispensable, irreplaceable. In a word, what Judaism teaches is that man is not a “thing,” just another object. He is G-d-like, He is human. He is an individual. He is a “thou,” not an “it.” Chaviv adam – man is beloved of G-d.This would seem to be a perfectly obvious principle, a thesis that all accept. And yet it is unfortunately true that our world more often violates it than observes it. Our society, with its “groupism,” its emphasis on “adjustment” and conformity, has tended to submerge the individual man in the mass, and to blur the uniqueness of each individual. We have begun to lose our reverence for the human personality. Just look at some of the aspects of our daily life. We make a party and confide to a friend th…

Modern psychologists speak much of self-identification. The self-image that one entertains, the way a man pictures himself as if he were a third person, is of the most crucial significance in understanding the workings of man’s mind. Some psychologists recently devised a test by which to detect the underlying motif of a person’s personality. They approached a number of people and asked them for their immediate reaction to the question, “Who are you?” The answer is most revealing. For instance, the woman who says, “I am a woman,” or the man who says, “I am a man,” reveals a fundamental concern with his masculinity or her femininity. The one who answers, “I am so-and-so’s son,” or “so-and-so’s daughter,” reveals some kind of involvement, whether good or bad, with his parents. The Negro who answers, “I am Colored,” reveals a strong feeling of resentment for racial discrimination, just as the Southern White who answers, “I am White,” reveals a fraudulent superiority built on what is no doubt a deep feeling of inferiority. The man who answers, “I am a chemist,” is obviously concerned with his professional career, and the man who says, “I am an American,” is obviously more political minded. Self-identification, therefore, the image one holds of oneself is a clue to man’s basic, fundamental personality. And when we have defined for ourselves who we are and what we are in our own image, then we will have experienced a self-revelation. We will have gained some insight into our own selves. Then, when we really intimately know who we are in our own eyes, can we approach Almighty G-d and ask him to remember us – in that way.How interesting that in that amazing book of the Bible, which tradition has chosen to read on Yom Kippur afternoon, the Book of Jonah, we read of a startling incident – startling because it tells of a question which is unusually similar to the question these psychologists we have mentioned used in determining personalities.Recall that when Jonah first attem…