TERUMAH/ ROSH CHODESH/ MISHPATIM 1st March 2025 LJS
In my 36 years as a rabbi, I cannot recall a time when we had such a busy and energetic Progressive rabbinate, busy not only with congregational life, but also on much wider issues. We have had recently a constant stream of our Liberal and Reform rabbis visiting Israel. There was one group last week, another in the last few days, going showing solidarity with our colleagues there, rejoicing with those who have been freed, mourning with those in grief, sympathising with how tough it is to be an Israeli right now, worn out by the constant roller coaster of emotions and the fear of further conflict.
But closer to home, here in the UK we have been busy with some good news: we have had the unexpected but welcome announcement of a new accord between Muslim and Jewish leaders, which has been followed by a very positive statement from United Syn Chief Rabbi Ephraim Mirvis, encouraging everyone to get involved at a local level. I have begun work on how this project could be enhanced by a historical and theological underpinning, emphasising the shared history of Judaism and Islam.
Finally, as you have been hearing from Rabbi Igor and Rabbi Alex recently, we have started to work on a theology for our new progressive movement. Our Liberal values are as important as ever, even more so as we live in an illiberal age. I have been part of a small group discussion, in which we started by acknowledging that there are many different ‘theologies and spiritualties held within the progressive Jewish community, based around what we call ethical monotheism’, a belief in one God sustained by Jewish ethical values. Our discussion acknowledged the impossibility of imposing a single (collective) theology on a future progressive Jewish community, but it was agreed that theology will remain an essential part of how we define the guiding principles of our Movement, and that a progressive theology is not something ‘abstract’ but something which enables a ‘progressive Jewish way of life’. Most importantly, one ambition of our theology is to identify a ‘common core’ of spirituality and ethics that we can cohere around.
If all this sounds interesting but vague on specifics, it certainly is, but I think the specifics are going to be strictly practical. As Rabbi Larry Hoffman puts it, our aim should be to transform synagogues into spiritual and moral centers for the twenty-first century by providing ongoing dialogue on the future of the Jewish community in general, and the evolving nature of synagogues in particular. Larry is exceptionally good at doing that himself, and one way he does that is by inspirational words of Torah. The last time I heard him in person was in this very synagogue, which he has visited many times over the years. So although I do not have a fraction of his brilliance, here are my words of Torah about building a Progressive Jewish theology.
When the people of Israel emerged from Egypt they were traumatised. They came close to death and escaped only by a miracle. They were led to Sinai where they accepted a really tough covenant because, as some of the midrashim have it, there was nothing else on offer. So when Moses disappeared up the mountain again and did not return, they built a golden calf and held a festival in its honour. Bizarrely, as I was writing this, my attention was drawn to a news story about a video on President Trump’s social media platform showing his imagined future for Gaza, with an imagined monumental golden statue of Trump himself. The golden calf has been trumped! In the Torah, and still today, our God does not want statues, but does require buildings, as Gaza requires homes. The benei Yisrael were not asked to build a calf or a monumental statue of Moses but to build a sanctuary, a place where God could be thought to dwell. The answer to near catastrophe, to trauma, is contributions / terumah. When you are homeless, you need to build homes. When you are spiritually adrift, God needs a home, a home inside us and a physical building too. The portable tent in the desert we read about this morning was the ancestor of every synagogue church and mosque in the world, a place where God was to be acknowledged, worshipped, thanked, beseeched and praised. The description is beautifully and yet ridiculously long, detailing the type and colours of the cloths, the measurements of every item and the materials required, the kind of craftspeople needed, and at the end the cost. But why so much detail that we have a month of readings about it?
For the coming dor hamidbar / the generation of the wilderness, the revelation at Sinai was not enough. The vision of the new covenantal religion was great but it did not satisfy on its own. A tangible symbol of God’s presence would be required to sustain them. We need that too. For them it was their tabernacle. For us it is our synagogues. But even this is not enough. The physical building is just the outside: building a new movement is from inside, from the heart. Like the mishkan, the sanctuary, it requires plans and people with specific skills, diverse people, like the diverse colours in our reading. The new movement will both sustain our visions, and illuminate our thinking like the menorah of old. When we enter the synagogue we can recognise in the symbols here the great psychological power of the ancient tabernacle. When the ark doors are open we stand as it were before God’s presence: here we take shelter under God’s wings: here too we hide in shame at times, for this is the storehouse of our deepest thoughts and most disturbing feelings. But we bring too an additional element: it is our inclusivity and openness which so often has been absent from modern Jewish history, within a conceptual framework that advocates for social and economic justice for all. The new movement, if successful, will bring light into our lives. What was new about that first menorah was that it joined lamps and a stand into a single object. The tavnit /blueprint for our new movement will bring the plans and ideas we contribute and set them on a single foundation, which we will call Progressive Judaism.
It was in 1926, that Lily Montagu sent out the invitations to the first conference of what was to be the World Union of Progressive Judaism, which took place here at this synagogue. Next year will be the centenary. The conference was opened by Claude Montefiore and the shabbat morning sermon was given by Rabbi Israel Mattuck. That conference of 100 delegates decided to set up a permanent organisation and chose the word Progressive as the umbrella term for the various movements. I am going to be a little bold for the LJS and say that I regard it as a messianic word. I know well that Liberal Judaism has abandoned belief in a personal messiah, but the notion of the time of the messiah, a just and peaceful world, is still an aim which we strive for, as our prayer book puts it (page 521) help us to perfect the world by bringing it under your unchallenged rule. However far away we may seem from that, every step along the path marks a little messianic progress. In Hebrew, progressive is mitkadem, from the root kuf-dalet-mem, the same root as in the summer camp, Kadima. Kedem means the east or in front, but it can also denote the past, as in the words we have just sung, chadesh yameinu k’kedem /renew our days as of old (Lamentations 5:21). The notion of ‘progress’ includes acknowledging the past, preserving the memories of our achievements, problems and hopes. Rabbi Howard Cooper once said that a Jew is someone who stands with one foot in the here and now, and one foot in eternity. We envision the future through our memories of the past which can help us overcome our fears and lessen our doubts. May we too bring our skills, our contributions, our piquant spicy ideas and our sparkling precious thoughts, and build our new movement together.