Parshat D’varim
SERMON PARASHAT D’VARIM AUGUST 1, 2025
Rabbi David Edleson Temple Sinai South Burlington, Vermont
We are in the Hebrew month of Av, and this Saturday night and Sunday will be the 9th of Av, Tisha b’Av. Traditionally, it is a day of fasting and mourning that commemorates that begins as a yearly commemoration of the day Rome destroyed the Second Temple in Jerusalem, but that has come to be associated with the destruction of the first Temple, the Spanish Inquisition, and the Nazi’s final solution. It is traditional to gather late at night, and sing laments and chant the Book of Eicha, Lamentations. We have done that most years since I’ve been here.
But honestly, Reform Jews haven’t really embraced this day, in large part because we don’t so much mourn the loss of the temple and don’t want to go back to that form of Judaism. Indeed, much of what we call Judaism today emerges out of that very destruction and from the reaction of the early rabbis to that loss. Mourning the temple is not really our brand.
I also wonder if there shouldn’t be some statute of limitations on how many centuries we need to actively mourn this. I mean, there is remembering and there is staying stuck in grief and trauma. There is such a thing as moving on. Indeed, that is what forgiveness and t’shuvah are, and they are the center of the High Holy Days that are coming up.
But these past few years, I’ve come to think of Tisha b’Av as a day to remind us that tragedy is not a thing of some distant past, but something that comes unexpectedly, but dependably; something that is always behind us but also in front of us.
It certainly feels like we are living in a time when tragedy is swirling all around. The hunger in Gaza and the massive destruction there is profoundly tragic, and it’s doubly tragic that Israel, while not responsible for how it started, is responsible for how it is managing the war and food distribution.
And the Israeli government is to blame for another reason – because they are Jews. We know what it is like to be starved. And Peoplehood, if it is to have meaning, means worrying about the impact of our actions on the people as a whole. I believe we have an obligation to worry about how our actions and words impact our people there. But peoplehood is a two-way street. It also means they need to consider the impact of their choices on the Jews in the diaspora. Israeli far too often dismisses our concerns and the very significant impact it’s actions have on our own lives.
No I want to be clear, I don’t believe at all that Israel is responsible for the rise in antisemitism; I think that is a profound error of logic. Antisemitism is always there and not very deeply buried, and it emerges in times of disorientation and stress – not on Jews – but on non-Jews who then quickly find a way to blame Jews for their problems. That pattern has been around since the Pharoah.
But like it or note, protest or not, our fate is bound with the fate of the people of Israel. When Jews say we should sever ties with Israel because that makes us moral, they are knowingly or unknowingly falling into the trap that antisemitism has always provided. It is particularly sad when Jews fall for this. And if Israel is guilty of ignoring North American Jewry’s concerns and views, I don’t think it makes things right if we then ignore Israel’s. Peoplehood requires engagement and relationships.
One central aspect of this time of tragedy, whether on October 7, or in Gaza, or in Ukraine or Sudan or right here at home is the confusion, the not knowing what to do. The sense of powerlessness. The disorientation. And so much of it these days come from the flood of information that we swim in, especially when so much of that information is false, and the words being used are meant to manipulate not inform.
Our tradition believes in the power of words. Words according to our myths, created this world, and the words we use also create the worlds we live in. We are taught to be careful with words and deeply respectful. The book of the Torah we start reading this week is named DVARIM, which means ‘words.’ As human beings, words are what allow us to think, and words are how we assess and create reality.
These days, none of really know who to believe. News outlets we have trusted like the TIMES or NPR of the BBC have been blatantly biased and trafficked in obvious antisemitism. Jewish press also seems to avoid the facts that make us look bad, and the rest of the information around us seems more about manipulating us that informing us.
This indeed might be the greatest and longest lasting tragedy of this time. Our need for labels for everything, to divide the world into good guys and bad guys is destroying democracy, breaking up solidarity, and making it impossible to solve problems. It is a way of our avoiding the discomfort of living in the grey area. It is much more satisfying to be definite about things than to hold the contradictions and complexities. We see that everywhere.
The rabbis taught us that the Temple was destroyed on Tisha b’Av because of baseless hatred – sinat chinam -among the Jews. Instead of working together, we called each other names, wrapped our group in the cloak of moral beauty, and blamed the other side for all the problems instead of actually working on solutions.
This Sunday, we’ll be watching “We’ll Dance Again” and Emmy winning documentary about the massacre at the Nova Festival, which like what happened all those millenia ago, begins with a breech of a wall and the pouring of people to kill and destroy us. It is a documentary about what happened and it is made from archival footage. It is not an easy film to watch but it is a good reminded of what started this and why Hammas is a profoundly dangerous organization – not an idea. They are not for liberation of Palestinians and their actions make this painfully clear. That so many people confuse fanaticism and rape with resistance shows again that words are losing their meaning and when words lose their meaning, we are all in a deeper danger than we know.
The rabbis call gossip and rumor ‘’lashon hara’ or ‘evil speech.’ They point out that once false and accusatory words are said in public, you can’t take them back. We see this with pathetic retractions of false statements and misleading photos in the press. It is also true in our own words, so let us be thoughtful with our words. Let us be caring with our words and always ask yourself if the words you are using are meant to shine light on a situation, or to make you feel more certain and less confused. Let us you our words to shine light.
Shabbat shalom.
David
