Go Up Already! A Reflection for Parahsat Devarim, 25 July 2015

Jews dance in Uman, Ukraine

When one is called to the Torah to pronounce the blessing in conjunction with the public reading of the text, it is referred to as an Aliyah, meaning an ascent.  In America, one typically uses the Hebrew word when referring to the experience, as in:  I went to synagogue on Shabbat, and I had an Aliyah.  For some reason, here in Australia it is referred to as simply, ‘a call-up’ as in:  I was in shul and was given a call-up.  I don’t know why the difference in nomenclature.  But the term Aliyah, ascent, denotes that one has truly ascended in spiritual terms, in being invited to bless the Torah in front of the community.  It is indeed an honour to be asked to perform this vital function.

          As you may know, Aliyah also refers to when a Jew immigrates to the State of Israel.  It is considered an ascent spiritually, but in other ways as well, to move from exile to the Jewish homeland.  It is in the written Torah where we see this use of the word.  The use of the verb alah, ascend, meaning to go to Israel.  The use of the noun, aliyah, referring to the act of ascent.  And the use of the noun, oleh or olah, meaning the one who ascends.  We find the word in all its forms, in today’s Torah reading from Parashat Devarim.

          Even secular Jews and Israelis, who might not focus on the spiritual side of obeying G-d’s command to go up, use the terms freely.  It is commonly recognised among Jews, that to go to live in Israel represents an uplifting.  This is of course, most pronounced when the Jew in moving to Israel, is leaving a place of persecution or exclusion.  But it even applies when the Jew is leaving one of the safe havens of the West to live in Israel.  Most Jews who make Aliyah from, say America, Canada or Australia, don’t think they’re going to physical safety:  usually the opposite!  But they see their move to Israel, which often comes only after a prolonged period of decision and preparation, as a journey toward greater self-fulfillment as a Jew. 

Ze’ev Chafets is an American Jew who made Aliyah years ago as a young adult and who has become an internationally-noted author and journalist.  Chafets wrote years ago, that in moving to Israel as a young, secular Jew he found it so wonderful to be in a place where it felt ‘normal’ to be a young secular Jew.

          (Chafets was actually a Reform Jew.  In fact, in his youth he was the national president of NFTY, the Reform Movement’s National Federation of Temple Youth.  Some years later in writing about his Aliyah experience he would see it as something he’d experienced as a secular Jew.  But that’s another sermon, for another day…)

           So even for the a-religious, and for the Jew not escaping to safety, there is still an element of ‘ascent’ in moving to Israel.  Likewise, when a Jew leaves Israel to live abroad, he is often said to make yeridah, descent, and is referred to as a yored, one who has descended.

          But the purpose of this reflection this morning is not to arm-twist you into the notion of moving to Israel.  This, despite that my son, Eyal has just done that very thing and that Clara and I are very proud of him.  Oh, I don’t want to discourage you from thinking about Aliyah…G-d forbid!  But, my purpose is to ask you to consider the very idea of ascent, or uplifting, and wonder why we don’t try harder to achieve that state.

          If you saw the Simon Schama miniseries The Story of the Jews, you saw a wild scene of Hassidic Jews celebrating in the town of Uman, in Ukraine.  It is the burial place of Rebbe Nachman, one of the most revered of the Hassidic masters.  If you search on YouTube, you can find many more videos of the celebrations there.  Just the other day, I watched one such video with the students in one of my classes and mused over the contrast between the unbridled and unselfconscious joy that the Jews there were expressing through their dancing.  That, and the dour looks I usually face when I try to get Jews here and elsewhere, dancing on Simchat Torah.  I’m not trying to get every Jew to be a Hassid.  But I think every Jew can, and should find joy in their Jewish observance and life.  But it’s a hard sell.

          We find it difficult to bring joy to our Jewish lives, because we find it difficult to bring joy to our lives, period.  So many of the people I encounter every day, Jewish or otherwise, are constantly oppressed by their lives.  I don’t mean just that they’re going through a rough time at any given moment.  Life is, after all, a succession of alternating highs and lows.  Clara and I, and our children, no less than any of you reading or hearing these words, have experienced success and failure.  Triumph and tragedy.  Moments of joy and sadness.  Sadness is an absolutely unavoidable part of life.  We are given occasions of sadness for a specific, very important reason.  In reality, most of the sadness in our lives is of our own making, the result of our own decisions and actions.  We are given them, so that we will learn to transcend them.  And we transcend them by approaching life in a spirit of Aliyah, of always ascending, of lifting ourselves up and looking towards ever greater, more joyful experiences.  We are not given sadness so that it will rule our very lives, that it will become the theme of our existence.  That it will oppress us and lead to addictions and mental illness.  We are given sadness and setbacks to enable us to learn to overcome them.  To take lemons and make lemonade.  To experience the triumph of ascent, of lifting ourselves out of our funk and moving on.

          I know far too many people who don’t even seem to want to lift themselves out of their funk.  Who seem to relish it.  Who chew it over and analyse it endlessly.  Who make it the very theme of their lives.  I’m not trying to minimize the effects of depression and other mental illnesses, to toss them off as a lack of will.  But in all reality, a lack of will to overcome the sadness of our lives, is something that I see again and again…and again.  It takes people who have experienced the kinds of setbacks that should be expected in life, and causes them to descend into their own prison of depression.

          In this week’s Torah reading we read Moses’ rebuke of the people Israel.  He recounts the journey that the people had undertaken in the wilderness.  And how he sent ahead spies, to look over the Land of Israel and report back.  And how the spies, ten of the twelve, brought back an evil report which killed the spirit of the people.  And he rebuked them.  You did not wish to ascend!  (Deuteronomy 1.26) They did not wish to lift themselves up.  Instead, they were content to cower in their tents and speculate that G-d hated them.

          In reading these words this week, I wasn’t thinking so much about ascent in terms of Aliyah, moving to Israel.  This despite my own family experience of last week.  Rather, I was thinking of those Jews in Uman, and of the joy they are able to experience and express.  And the contrast to what I see in so many of my fellow Jews, here and elsewhere.  In so many of my fellow citizens, period.

          And I want to say this:  ascend from your bitterness, from your disappointments and failures.  Accept them as the consequences of living.  But don’t let them become the theme of your life.  Make your own theme.  And make it a theme of joy.  Even when you feel that there’s a weight on your back that you’re unable to lift.  Lift up your back anyway.  Feel the joy that comes with triumph over sadness.  And dance.  Shabbat shalom.