Parshat Naso

SERMON    Parshat Naso    June 6, 2025

Rabbi David Edleson     Temple Sinai     South Burlington, Vermont

L’DOR VADOR

Last week I talked about the connection between the celebration of freedom that is Passover and the celebration of Rule of Law that is Shavuot.   The holidays and their meanings are inextricably bound to one another, and that connection is structured into the Jewish year through what is a called the Counting of the Omer, the 49 days between the two holidays.

As is our tradition, in our Shabbat morning Torah studies since Passover, we have been reading a chapter of Pirkei Avot, or Sayings of our Founders.  It is a short tractate from the Mishnah that collects ethical sayings and life lessons from the early generations of rabbis.  Pirkei Avot is where so many of our favorite Jewish ethical sayings come from, like “If I am not for myself, who will be for me?”    

But perhaps the most important life lesson in Pirkei Avot is almost hidden.  It doesn’t read like an ethical or moral teaching at all.   Here it is:

משֶׁה קִבֵּל תּוֹרָה מִסִּינַי, וּמְסָרָהּ לִיהוֹשֻׁעַ, וִיהוֹשֻׁעַ לִזְקֵנִים, וּזְקֵנִים לִנְבִיאִים, וּנְבִיאִים מְסָרוּהָ לְאַנְשֵׁי כְנֶסֶת הַגְּדוֹלָה.

Moses received the Torah from Sinai and transmitted it to Joshua, and Joshua to the Elders, and the Elders to the Prophets, and the Prophets transmitted it to the Scholars of the Great Assembly.

Not the most exciting opening, perhaps, but hidden in plain sight is a profound lesson:  the need to pass on our traditions to the next generation.  This unbroken chain of tradition through the generations, in Hebrew, the Dorot,  is one of the great strengths of the Jewish people, and given our difficult history, it is, I think, a miracle that our tradition has not only been passed down through the generations but it has continued to deepen, to evolve, to adapt and to grow.  Each generation must make it their own and find a way to pass it on to the next one.  As anyone who has taught Hebrew School knows, this is not so easy to do. 

It also means that we have to choose what sort of Judaism we pass on to the next generation.  

Will it be a Judaism of fear and hiding?

Will it be a restrictive, oppressive Judaism that leaves little room for creativity?

Or will it be a joyful Judaism, rooted in a celebration of our peoplehood and our resilience as a community, one that is deeply spiritual but also fun and creative?  

Reform Judaism, at is best, is exactly that: a Judaism in which each generation is an integral part of not only passing it on but shaping it to meet the needs of the community and to reflect who we are in the time in which we live.

These last few years have not been easy ones for us in America.  We have had to admit that the fears our grandparents and great grandparents carried and warned us about were not just things of the past, but important wisdom from their lived experience.  Can you imagine what the past few years would be like without having a Jewish community to go to?  We should never take it for granted that synagogues like ours will always be here. 

We owe Bubbe an apology, sure, but we also honor Bubbe by taking her Judaism and making it live again, reviving our community and releasing Jewish creativity and innovation to make sure we are able to continue what Moses started when he passed his tradition to Joshua. 

In Pirkei Avot, the line immediately after that first one tells us to be sure to be deliberate in a judgments, to teach many students, and to make a fence around the Torah.  In other words, this is how we pass it down.

What is this fence around the Torah?   In legal terms, it means making sure we a careful not to violate any of the laws, but I have come to think that the real “fence around the Torah” is the Jewish community and the synagogue. 

We are what protect this tradition but also make breathe life into it so it lives and doesn’t fossilize. 

I tell all the people studying for conversion that Judaism is not for the solo practitioner.  While many of our most important rituals are done in our homes, for over 2000 years, the synagogue has been the heart of our people.   The Torah is our tree of life, but it is in the synagogue and the synagogue community that the Tree of Life is planted, nurtured, pruned, and fed.   The synagogue and the community that each one builds is the clearest expression of both Jewish solidarity and Jewish diversity. 

When I came to Temple Sinai, I said that I thought Burlington needed and deserved a vibrant joyful Reform temple.   Then, my first year was the shooting in Pittsburgh.  Since then, joy has been sometimes hard to find, but I believe more than ever that Burlington needs a vibrant joyful Reform community the embraces supports one another, and finds joy and meaning in the  celebration of Jewish life together.   These past few years that has also meant holding one another, crying together, and fighting back against growing antisemitism, and that too is important work.

In Pirkei Avot, Rabbi Hillel famously said, “Do not separate yourself from the community.”   That can be hard.  As I’ve said, community can be challenging because, well, people can be challenging, but Hillel was right.  Community for all its frustrations is the heart of Jewish life, and our biggest challenge is to pass it on to the next generation so they can shape it into what they need – not just Hebrew and b’nei mitzvah, but a sense of the centrality and importance of Jewish community.

To do that, we need to put our synagogue on a firm foundation, both in terms of resources, but also in terms of spiritual life, depth of Jewish knowledge, meaningful opportunities for our teens to deepen their connections to Jewish life.  We are working hard and deliberately toward all these goals, and I am so grateful for the people who worked for decades to build this synagogue and keep it going. 

Each generation must pick up the scroll of our tradition, dance with, and pass it to the next so they too can dance with us across generations and millenia of community.  We are taught that we all stood at Sinai, even those not yet born.  I like to think we not only stood there, but we made a big circle and danced.  In some mystical realm of Kabbala, we are all dancing together, under the tree of life, celebrating the divine joy of being Jewish together.

Shabbat Shalom

David