Let Them Build Me a Sanctuary: Shabbat of Solidarity, Courage and Unity after Pittsburgh

Jews of all backgrounds, together with our friends of all faiths stand united as one, in reclaiming our sanctuaries, to make them true sanctuaries once again: places of refuge, tranquility, peace and harmony. We stand up for love, we stand up for peace, we stand up for justice and peace and friendship for all. We reject hate, we reject anti-semitism, we reject racism, discrimination and fear and violence. We pledge to work together to make our broken world whole.

Welcome to all who have joined us here this evening: Framingham Mayor Yvonne Spicer, our Massachusetts State Representative Jack Lewis, our own TBA member and Framingham City School Committee Chair, Adam Freudberg – all who are here from our city and state leadership community, our friends from our Interfaith community, our Temple Beth Am family, all of our guests from near and far – all of you who have gathered together for our Musical Shabbat of solidarity, unity and pride, commemoration and healing.

This weekend, across North America, we gather together in our synagogue sanctuaries as one people, no matter our religious affiliation – or lack thereof, no matter our political affiliation, no matter our race, our gender, our sexual orientation, no matter our national origin.

We gather together in compassion, community and courage. We stand shoulder to shoulder in this sacred space on this sacred Shabbat to show that we are one united people with one heart, we stand united for love, we stand united for peace and justice and equality for all. We stand united against anti-semitism, we stand united against racism, against injustice of any type. We stand united in our pledge that together we will work to make our broken world whole.

We hope our encounters with the Divine this evening and with each other will lift us up, will inspire us to be better people, will elevate our every day actions and help us to see the Divine spark in one another.

There is a story that the rabbi’s of the Talmud tell: Rabbi Yitzchak Meir Alter, the Gerer Rabbi, noticed that one of his students had seemed emotionally absent from the community for awhile. So one day, after the morning prayer service, he questioned the young man: “How is your neighbor, Moshe doing?” Rabbi Yitzchak asked? ‘I…I’m not sure…Is Moshe not well? Is there something I should know?” “the rabbi paused before he replied softly with great sadness?” “You live right next door to Moshe, You see him every day. Your children go to the same school. You pray under the same roof. You pray from the same book. You serve the same God. You study the same Torah. And you’re telling me you don’t know how Moshe is? You don’t know whether he needs help or advice, comfort or compassion? How can that possibly be?!”

This my friends, is the very essence of life: to share in each other’s life, not to leave one another alone – either in sorrow or in joy.

Since the horrific events last Saturday at Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh, we, the Jewish community, have felt so embraced by all of our neighbors and friends in the most heartwarming, loving and compassionate manner. These acts of friendship, outreach and compassion are proof that goodness and kindness are stronger than hatred, anti-semitism and violence. We know that we are stronger together. We know that together we can work to educate ourselves and our children to eliminate ignorance, to break down barriers of hatred, to eliminate the scourge of hatred and xenophopia so that anti-Semitism and racism will no longer afflict this beautiful country we call home.

We can work together to eliminate the plague of gun violence which has afflicted our country too many times in too many schools and too many houses of worship and too many ordinary places, so that we do not have to worry about our children returning home safely from school every day, or we do not have to worry about making a trip to the grocery store or the post office or going to synagogue or church or the mosque or any where at all. Each and every one of us deserves to live in a world that is safe, that is beautiful, where we are free to just: BE. And to LIVE our every day lives.

Tonight, during our Shabbat service, our Sabbath service , we prayed – as we do every week, to help us understand God’s oneness, for freedom, for wholeness, for peace. And at the end of the service, we will sing the prayer “Alaynu” – which hearkens to a time in the future when all will be perfect in the world, when all will be right, when hatred will be gone and “nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall there be war any more.” Our prayers will be meaningless however, unless we dosomething to bring them to fruition: how will we make freedom’s bell ring out? What will we do to ensure that wholeness and peace will prosper in our world? How can we, as an interfaith community of faith help other’s understand that all of us pray to the same one God?

The great humanitarian, social activist, and Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel said, “There may be times when we are powerless to prevent injustice, but there must never be a time when we fail to protest.” People of faith have a particular responsibility to speak out. And there is no better time to call ourselves to action now – on Shabbat. A day that hearkens to a time of hope for a better world, when each and every one of will have done all we can to eradicate all that is wrong and to make a better tomorrow.

The mystics of old, known as the Kabbalists, liked to say that Shabbat is a taste of this time to come, a taste of this time of perfect peace, when we all live in harmony, when we all welcome each other with “Shalom, salaam, peace be unto you.” As the well-known poet Ahad Ha-Am said, “Shabbat is a sanctuary, an island in time.” A time where we all feel embraced, welcomed and safe from life’s storms. Last week, 11 Jews gathered in their sanctuary: a place that was supposed to be that place of tranquility, that place of peace. They came to celebrate and observe that Shabbat refuge, their Shabbat safe-haven, their “island in time.” And instead, their lives ended in a torrent of bullets and hatred, violence and pain. Shabbat was desecrated, Shabbat was violated for the Jewish community of Tree of Life Synagogue and life was changed for the good people of Pittsbugh and for the Jewish communities in North America.

This was the largest anti-semitic attack in the history of our country. Anti-semitism is one of the oldest types of racism and hatreds in our world. We are one of the smallest minorities – we make up .02 percent of the population. And studies show that anti-Semitism is an indicator of many other kinds of radicalism. We must work together to wipe out and denounce anti-semitism, overt or covert, no matter where it comes from. We must work together to make our country a sanctuary of refuge for all peoples, no matter their religion, no matter their ethnic identity, no matter what we look like or where we come from.

So how do we embrace the notion of “sanctuary” tonight with the events of the past week lingering on our minds? How can we feel secure in our world knowing that the concept of “sanctuary” is an ideal we have not yet achieved? How can we make our religious homes a place of welcoming and safe haven for all who choose to walk in our doors? In Exodus 25, God tells the Israelites, build Me a sanctuary, that I may dwell among you. God does not dwell in the sanctuary, rather, the sanctuary becomes a vehicle for bringing people together. God’s presence – God’s sanctuary – dwells within the relationships between the people.

I know that as a faith leader in the public realm, I walk a fine balance: I minister to those whose thoughts and feelings fall on all sides of the political and social spectrums. At times, I must keep my personal feelings and ideas to myself in order to respond pastorally to my entire congregations.

Yet, at times, as a religious leader, there is a moral imperative to speak out, to share the prophetic voices from our religious teachings, to heed the call of my faith traditions.

Now is the time to speak out, because our notion of “sanctuary” is at risk. Now is the time to act. Now is the time for our community to come together and unite across every political, religious, or social divide. We must remember that in our American “Pledge of Allegiance,” we make an oath that our democratic republic promises to be a place of “liberty and justice for all.”

For centuries people have come to the United States seeking a life of freedom, opportunity, and peace. Each of our faith traditions shares a conviction in the full humanity of every person. We believe that to be human is to be created in the image of the divine we call by many names: among them God, Allah, Spirit. When we fail to see the divine in one another, we diminish our own humanity. The biblical imperative to “love your neighbor” knows no religious, political or national boundaries, and our common interest in security is only undermined when we allow fear to dismantle the very principles of our democracy.

Across North America, Interfaith clergy communities meet regularly to share, learn and be supportive of each other, just as our Framingham Interfaith Clergy Community, does here in MetroWest. We celebrate both our commonalities and our differences, because together we demonstrate the beautiful fabric that is our community and our nation. That support, friendship and dialogue turns into action at a time like this: this past week, hundreds of Interfaith groups across North America gathered together in solidarity and commemoration at vigils to mourn the 11 people murdered at Tree of Life Synagogue and to pray for healing for those who were injured; and so many more of you are gathering at synagogue during this special #ShowUpforShabbat this weekend. Your presence this Shabbat is so meaningful to us, because it reinforces the notion of friendship and support and the notion of “love your neighbor” as well as what it means to create “sanctuary.” No matter your religion, each of our Scriptures calls upon us “love your neighbor as yourself” and “to welcome both the neighbor and the stranger, just as we have been welcomed.

Yes my friends, it is us – you and I together who brings God’s presence into the Sanctuary, for God’s presence is found inside you and inside me, when we look deep into each other’s eyes, getting to know each other’s hearts, joining hands, marching together, for the sake of a better world, a sanctuary of peace, freedom, justice and goodness, for all men, women and children. You and I together will bring the true meaning of sanctuary back into our sanctuaries and homes, schools and streets, and yes – even into the very fabric of this great United States of America.

The Koran teaches: “We have made you into nations and tribes, so that you might come to know one another.” And in our Jewish tradition, we recited in our prayerbook,Mishkan T’filah, this evening “There is no way to get from here to there except by joining hands and marching together.”

So now I would like to ask you to “join hands and march together” with me and my community on the journey we will begin tonight and going forward into the future, a journey of hope and action, a journey of community, courage and justice for all: “put out your right hand like this, put out your left hand like that, and hold the hands of the person next to you. Feel the loving strength in those hands. We teach that these are the hands of God holding you tight, holding you up… It doesn’t matter what religion you, or if have no religion.. but by your very presence tonight, the world shines a little brighter, with a little more hope.” (hand-holding idea paraphrased from Rabbi Paul Kipnes, Congregation Or Ami, Calabassas, CA) (End by singing “Sanctuary” in English and Hebrew – Shaker Hymn/Exodus 25 and Jewish liturgy)

O God prepare me

to be a sanctuary

pure and holy

tried and and true.

With thanksgiving, I’ll be a living

sanctuary for you.

V’asu li, mikdash (let them make Me a sanctuary)

V’shachanti b’tocham (and I will dwell within them)

V’anach’nu n’varech Ya (and we will bless your Holy name)

Mei-atah v’ad olam. (now and forever