Rosh Hashanah 5786 (2025) Sermon
In the musical Hamilton, Alexander Hamilton’s character becomes politicized in the pursuit of democracy while schmoozing in a tavern. Captured by the song “My Shot” Hamilton, along with other Revolutionary figures, rap about their dreams of the future of the US, from equal representation to abolitionism. The characters are united by their shared visions of democracy. The choice by Lin-Manuel Miranda for this scene to occur in a bar, a public place, illustrates how democracy’s teachings unfold in every place where people gather.
If a tavern worked for Hamilton, then Temple Tiferet Shalom is the place we should contemplate the great morals and teachings of American democracy. We are part of a great heritage of American Judaism where some of democracy's most powerful and influential moments occurred in the synagogue. Our history embeds democratic progress within our sanctuaries.The Touro synagogue in Newport, RI hosted George Washington in 1790 on his inaugural trip as the newly elected president of the US. During his stop in Newport, Washington gave a simple yet notable sermon to the Jewish community of America. In it, he said:
It is now no more that toleration is spoken of as if it were the indulgence of one class of people that another enjoyed the exercise of their inherent natural rights. For, happily, the Government of the United States, which gives to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance, requires only that they who live under its protection should demean themselves as good citizens in giving it on all occasions their effectual support.[1]
While this speech is often understood as the endorsement of American religious freedom and tolerance, Washington also calls upon every member of the congregation to uphold the values of democracy on all occasions. By the people, for the people is not a hypothetical motto. It happens anywhere that we the people gather, including the בית כנסת this house of meeting where we gather to pray, reflect, and share a meal.
As Rabbi Michael Holtzman understands,
synagogues were established precisely to facilitate the fulfillment of public mitzvot [...] To re-establish religion’s role as democracy’s ballast, we must do so in public, [...] And the synagogue is the ideal place where that can happen.[2]
Washington's speech opened a door where the project of American democracy could and would be fulfilled, not only in the halls of government, but also in the pews of the faithful.
For centuries, it is within these walls that the American Jewish community animated the tenets of democracy. Our prophets shouted it in the streets. Our sages debated it in the study hall. And we enrich it within the synagogue. From the ordination of Rabbi Sally Priesand in 1972, the first American woman ordained as a rabbi, on the illustrious bimah of the Plum St Temple in Cincinnati to The Temple down in Atlanta bombed by the KKK in 1958 for hosting desegregation meetings during the civil rights movement, the American synagogue advances our most sacred ideals.
Nina Mogilnik, blogger on contemporary American Jewish experiences, states that democracy is intended to inspire us to pursue policies aligned with [...] Jewish values [...] a tradition that is radical, critical, complicated, and honest. If none of these ingredients can be found in our religious spaces, what is the point of it all?[3] I agree with Mogilnik that in the places where Judaism thrived, political and social commentaries were equally intertwined. We cannot afford to see ourselves as a-political, separate from the social-political workings of our nation. If we all care about the future of American democracy, then conversations around the future of our commonwealth must also occur here.
We are called to defend Washington's promise that on all occasions, in every location, we act as citizens and patriots to uphold the foundation of our country. As an American Jewish community, the ideals enshrined in our Constitution are as sacred as our Torah. We are called to embrace the values of democracy that we find sacred whenever we gather in the Temple. Eric Liu, CEO of the nonprofit organization, Citizen University, while a staunch atheist himself, elevates the wisdom embedded within faith traditions that strengthens the foundation of democracy. He understands that:
“Over the millennia, major faiths have figured out something about how to help people find meaning and belonging, how to interpret text and to reckon with the gap between our ideals and our reality, how to sustain hope and heart in the sea of cynicism and hate.”[4]
The framework of Judaism is our toolbox to promote democracy. Let us lean into and embrace what already comes naturally to us. The values of democracy are the values we emulate every day.
We begin by celebrating the freedom and autonomy to gather in our sacred spaces. This is a gift that we shouldn't take for granted. Some synagogues are empty out of fear or apathy. Some were forced to shutter their doors. But not here in Peabody. We speak with our feet by filling our sacred home. The fact that we can be here today and celebrate the new year is a testament and reflection of the fulfillment of the American promise.
While the synagogue is sustained by affiliation, democracy is upheld through mindful stewardship. According to Timothy Snyder, an expert in the collapse of 20th c. European nations into tyranny,
“one element of freedom is the choice of associates, and one defense of freedom is the activity of groups to sustain their members. This is why we should engage in activities that are of interest to us.”[5]
The biggest threat to democracy is indifference. We cannot abdicate our interests to those in Washington or Beacon Hill. It needs to be cultivated and cared for by all those who desire to live by it. As citizens, we have the obligation to ensure that our country adheres to its founding principles: that we all have access to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. So in a way, your membership and affiliation is an act of democracy, supporting the right for anyone to gather in the sanctuary that offers them comfort and support. Whether attending the magic of the high holy days fulfills your spiritual needs or this building becomes your center for mahjong on Wednesdays, you choose to be here. By being here this morning you manifest your certain unalienable right, endowed by our Creator, namely the ability to thrive as a Jewish community.
Now that we are here, we need to schmooze. You might think, well, this is obvious, of course we should talk to each other. But we all know that talking to one another isn't always expected or invited. We pass by people all day long: at the supermarket. at the playground. at the post office and yes, here at the temple. How many people do we actually talk to? Not just a silent nod or a soft smile, but a true conversion. In his study of the places where we gather outside the home, school, and work,Ray Oldenberg notes that “Nothing more clearly indicates a third place than that talk there is good; that it is lively, scintillating, colorful, and engaging.”[6]
The places we feel most at home are the ones where the talk is good. My favorite coffee shop in Wakefield, Rise and Shine, is where I can get my schmooze on. The baristas and owners know to tell me that the restaurant next door is going out of business because the owners raised the rent; they ask (even though they already know) if my son will have a blueberry muffin while I get a coffee, black and iced; and we can laugh over my coffee mug which says: Coffee, coffee, you shall pursue. When I go there, I know I’m gonna have an engaging conversation with someone who will impact my day. I feel seen and heard when I am there. It is schmoozing at its best. It is democracy in action.
We can foster the same feeling here. It’s why I firmly believe the most important ritual we do on Shabbat is the oneg afterward. It's in these moments that we are able to celebrate the art of the schmooze. When we talk with other people, we become aware of the uniqueness and similarities of all of our lives. Parker Palmer, activist for deepening the spiritual side of democracy, notes that we “become more compassionate towards democracy's diversity as [we] become more compassionate to the diversity within [our] own ranks.”[7] When we are aware and celebrate our differences and respect each other as friends, we are primed to see each other as human beings playing the same game instead of opponents we are trying to outmaneuver.
Like democracy, the responsibility of schmoozing rests upon all of our shoulders. It might seem inconsequential, but these social cohesions are the strongest building blocks of democracy and TTS. As we envision how synagogues will remain relevant in the 21st century, we must be navigating, debating, and answering the most pressing questions before us as an American Jewish community.We need to listen and trust the still, small voice within us and know that we have the extraordinary ability to create vibrant communities that are a part of the beautiful tapestry of American democracy.
Democracy doesn’t happen in the flashes of history. It is a routine we establish that keeps us living our values of liberty. We will heed the words of our prophet Jeremiah:
וְדִרְשׁוּ אֶת־שְׁלוֹם הָעִיר אֲשֶׁר הִגְלֵיתִי אֶתְכֶם שָׁמָּה וְהִתְפַּלְלוּ בַעֲדָהּ אֶל־יְהֹוָה כִּי בִשְׁלוֹמָהּ יִהְיֶה לָכֶם שָׁלוֹם
And seek the welfare of the city to which I have exiled you and pray to Adonai on its behalf; for in its prosperity you shall prosper.[8]
And we will also heed the words of the Gettysburg Address
that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth”[9]
Both of these are words of Torah. Both of these are calls to the American Jewish community. Both are sacred tenets we strive to uplift here at 489 Lowell St.
Most importantly, democracy inspires us to always pursue progress and growth. To me, this is the very essence of Judaism, especially around the holiday season. We come here to refine our souls to be better versions of ourselves. We need to continue living the forms of democracy within the synagogue that embolden our cohesion and strengthen our commitments towards the greater good. This is what it means to be an active citizen and a patriot to our ideals. Snyder defines a patriot as someone who “has universal values, standards by which he judges his nation, always wishing it well - wishing that it would do better.”[10] A patriot is someone invested in the growth of their country. I love Snyder’s definition because he lays a framework that is both aspirational and inspirational. It sets the bar high for what we can achieve. But also allows for exponential growth, responding to the times and the needs of the people.Patriotism is not blind loyalty. Rather, it’s holding ourselves and those around us to the morals we consider sacred.
And so, my fellow congregants: ask not what your Temple can do for you. Ask what you can do for your Temple, for your community, for your country, by being a proud, relentless defender of democracy.
[1] Washington’s Letter to Newport
[2] Rabbi Michael G. Holzman https://www.sourcesjournal.org/articles,/can-synagogues-revitalize-american-democracy
[3] Nina Mogilnik https://blogs.timesofisrael.com/politics-in-synagogue-amen-to-that/
[4] Found in We Need to Build by Eboo Patel
[5] Timothy Snyder On Tyranny “Contribute to good causes”
[6] the great good place 26
[7] Healing the Heart of Democracy
[8] Jeremiah 29:7
[9] Gettysburg Address
[10] Timothy Snyder On Tyranny: “Be a patriot ”