Rosh Hashanah marks the New Year and represents new beginnings. Really, there have been many new beginnings in Jewish history, particularly in the last two or three centuries. The rise of Chasidism in the 18th century, the Reform movement beginning in the 19th century, Zionism in the late 19th century, and Reconstructionism in the mid-20th century. Today, here at V’ahavtah, we’re part of another new beginning for our Jewish family.
In today’s Torah portion, we learn about Abraham and his family, who were (at the time) the first and only Jewish people. Understandably, it was crucially important for Abraham to have descendents so that monotheism would continue after his death. Abraham was married to Sarah, but Sarah was unable to have children. So, in a move that was common for the time period, but that today we recognize as deeply coercive, Sarah offered her maidservant, Hagar, to Abraham so that he could have a son to continue his mission and his family line.
The Rosh Hashanah Torah portion begins with Sarah, who was 90 years old, miraculously giving birth to Isaac. Now there were two boys running around Abraham’s tents, Hagar’s son Ishmael and Sarah’s son Isaac. When Sarah saw the two boys interacting, she became distressed. Which child would Abraham favor? Due to her fears, she told Abraham to “Cast out that maidservant and her son, for the son of that woman shall not share in the inheritance with my son Isaac.”
Abraham was distressed, but then God told him to listen to Sarah and that everything would be ok for both of his children. So Abraham packed up some bread and water, gave them to Hagar, and sent her and their son Ishmael into the wilderness. Once their bread and water ran out, they cried in pain over their fate. They were alone with nobody to turn to for help. Only God heard their cries.
Then “An angel of God called to Hagar: ‘Fear not, for God has heeded the cry of the boy where he is. Come, lift up the boy and hold him by the hand, for I will make a great nation of him.’ Then God opened Hagar’s eyes and she saw a well of water.”
Just like Hagar and Ishmael, many of us are finding ourselves in exile, in the wilderness, alienated from Jewish institutions and our own Jewish identities. Whether you’re a lifelong anti-Zionist or your eyes have been opened to Israel’s atrocities over the last 3 years, we all despair at the lack of humanity, compassion, and accountability of our co-religionists. But just as Hagar’s story doesn’t end with exile and sadness, ours doesn’t need to either. We can draw inspiration from Hagar and Ishmael, whose story began with exile, but continued with a life-giving well and the promise of becoming a great nation.
Many of us are here today because we feel a sense of exile from Jewish institutions, or from friends and family, solely because we understand Israel differently. While many Jews still see Israel as “the Jewish homeland,” or “the only democracy in the Middle East,” or “the fulfillment of God’s promise to Abraham,” we want nothing to do with settler colonialism, ethnic cleansing, or the idea that might makes right. Here at V’ahavtah, we are building a new well, a new life-giving source to reinvigorate Judaism. We are building an anti-Zionist, diasporic, Liberatory Judaism that is a meaningful alternative to the ethnosupremacy and racism of Zionism. If you don’t identify as anti-Zionist, you’re still welcome in this community. Anti-Zionism means different things to different people, and our community exists in the ever-growing tent of Judaism beyond Zionism. By embracing anti-Zionism explicitly, we build trust with our Palestinian partners and all other oppressed people with whom we stand in solidarity. Ironically, anti-Zionism is a purer expression of Jewish values than Zionism. Let me explain.
One of the reasons that the Bible is the most widely-read book in the history of humanity is because it expresses ethics and wisdom that can revitalize us and help us grow into the best versions of ourselves. The Book of Proverbs teaches that the Torah “is the tree of life…its paths are paths of comfort and all its ways are peace.” Jewish Scriptures, including both the Torah and the Talmud, have stood the test of time because they contain so many wise teachings that are still applicable and worth embracing.
The Torah offers mitzvahs, commandments like tzedek, tzedek tirdof, justice, justice you shall pursue; v’ahavtah l’rayacha camocha, you shall love your neighbor as yourself, don’t kill, don’t steal, don’t stand idly by the blood of your neighbor. The Torah also contains beautiful ideas like b’tzelem Elohim, that every human being bears the divine image; gerim hayitem, remember that you were strangers. These ancient Jewish values are the opposite of Zionism’s militarism, apartheid, and genocide.
Zionism has corrupted our religion so deeply over the last century that our spiritual home no longer feels like home. We’re like Hagar in the wilderness – unclear about where we’re going, but painfully aware that we can no longer remain where we had been. Just as God’s messenger opened Hagar’s eyes and offered hope and new possibilities, that’s precisely our task at V’ahavtah – we are building a new well, we’re helping to chart a new path forward for Jewish life. We’re creating a Jewish community for people who feel spiritually homeless. A community where you don’t have to worry about offending people because you believe in equality, peace, and justice. A diasporic vision of Judaism where our safety does not require anyone’s death or displacement. We find safety through solidarity. We believe that none of us will be safe and free until all of humanity is safe and free. Together, and with a growing network of other new institutions, we are building a new alternative to Zionist Judaism.
The traditional Rosh Hashanah liturgy repeats the phrase, Hayom Haras Olam, today the world is conceived. New possibilities are being born. Like the Zionists, we know our history of antisemitism, persecution, and being told we don’t belong. The fundamental difference between Zionist Judaism and Liberatory Judaism is that the former leads to militarism and nationalism, whereas we, the Liberatory Jews, pursue safety through solidarity.
Since 1948, and especially over the last 3 years, we’ve seen the destructive power of Zionist ideology, and we’re showing both Jews and non-Jews that there is another way to do Judaism that is life-giving, that also draws deeply from Jewish tradition. In our Torah portion, Ishmael’s crying awakens G-d’s compassion and brings help to Hagar and her son. In contrast, many Jewish communities in America have responded to the cries of children in Gaza and the West Bank by sending money and aid to the troops causing their suffering.
The Torah teaches over and over that we must remember that we were once strangers in the land of Egypt. That reminder of vulnerability is supposed to make us more compassionate. Our experience of fear is supposed to teach us to build a world in which fewer people have to live in fear. Israel has perverted that ancient message. Together, let’s reclaim our religion. Let’s build a well, not a wall. Instead of checkpoints and settler violence, we’ll build a Judaism rooted in love, justice, dignity, and safety for all.
Rosh Hashanah invites us to imagine the world as it could be. Hayom haras olam. Today, a world is born. And today, we can feel our own Judaism being reborn, as well. May it be a good year of growth and new possibilities, sweetened by more justice and more peace than the year we’re leaving behind. Shana tova u’mesukah.
