Sermon: Erev Rosh Hashanah (Rabbi Maurice Michaels)

Written by Writings & Sermons by others — 21 March 2015

About two months before the Olympic Games were due to start I was invited to talk about sport in Judaism for a programme that was being made for BBC local radio stations about faith and the Olympics.  One question I was asked was whether I thought that spending such a large amount of money on a sporting event could be justified ethically.  My response was that it would depend on what came afterwards, what – to use the buzzword – would be the legacy.  Now I must admit that having been raised in the East End of London and having lived most of my life on the east side of London, having seen the deterioration of that area over the decades to a state of dereliction in parts, having been a member of the Games’ Faith Community Outreach Team for a couple of years and having met on a few occasions with the Legacy company, I had in mind a physical, tangible legacy – housing, stadia, health and educational facilities, a new vibrant area for Londoners.

Now, after spending a substantial part of two months as a chaplain at the Olympics and Paralympics, my idea of legacy has changed.  Not that I’ve departed from my earlier views, but my outlook has significantly expanded.  This evening, as we enter a new year for the Jewish world, I want to look at what I think could be the legacy for British Jewry, a new phase for the Jewish community in the UK.  It’s in five parts, although as is usual in strategies there is some overlap.  Let’s start with sport.  There is a myth that Jews are unable to compete on the world arena and that has severely restricted parent’s views on the potential sporting ambitions of their children.  Certainly ‘my daughter, the volleyball player’ doesn’t have the same cachet as more traditional parental aspirations, but it shouldn’t mean that we discourage those who might be interested in taking up some form of sport.  Indeed, when we look at the incidence of obesity among children, the amount of time they spend in front of a computer or mobile phone, the sedentary nature of their lives, we should be actively encouraging them. And by the way, just to give lie to the myth, with the single exception of the 1998 winter Olympics, Jews have won medals in every Games since they restarted in 1896. Maccabi GB does a grand job, but it limits the opportunities to within the Jewish community, we should be looking for our youngsters to be competing nationally.  A new, more enlightened, view of sport is needed.

For me, the most unexpected outcome of the Games was how much I was inspired by the Paralympic athletes.  In my sporting naivete, I was totally unprepared for their amazing achievements.  And I know it’s not just my eyes that have been opened to the vast potential of people with disabilities.  The attitudes of many have been changed by the events of the past few weeks, but the legacy will only be achieved if that change is sustained.  As one person told me last week, ‘it’s okay to recognise what Ellie Simmonds can do in a pool and David Weir on the track, but what happens when I hold people up at the bus stop because it takes me a while to get on with my gammy leg?’ Torah teaches us that we have to be aware of and helpful to the vulnerable in society. It talks about the poor, the widow, the orphan and the stranger.  It refers to the blind, the deaf and the lame.  We need to extrapolate from that to all those who are disabled, in whatever way.  Again we know that JBD, Jewish Care, JAMI and others do a good job, but it cannot be left to them alone and even they need to review their approach to disabilities and look at not what a person can’t do, but what they can do. There is a need for all of us to highlight the positives of those with disabilities, whether of mind, body or spirit.

The third aspect of legacy, particularly from my perspective of the multi-faith chaplaincy team, was the easy and comfortable way in which the different faith groups were able to interact and work together.  We fully supported each other in every way possible, without impinging on our own passionately held beliefs.  But we also had quality time together in which we were able to explore and learn more about each other’s faith.  I have been involved in interfaith work for more than forty years – long before it was fashionable!  I’ve met with and talked with and participated with probably hundreds of Christians and Muslims and Hindus and Sikhs and the various other faith groups recognised in the UK; an especial friend is a Bahai’i lady and I was quite close to a Zoroastrian at one time.  But at the close of the event or activity or meeting there is never real time to sit and socialise, to discuss those things that we share and those where we differ, and why, to get to know each other as people.  At the Games we were all chaplains who just happened to be Jews or Muslims or whatever and I think in our relationships with people of other faiths in the future that should be our guiding light. Later this calendar year, we’ll be holding at Alyth a series of sessions with other faith groups and I shall attempt to incorporate that into the individual programmes.

It was quite amusing to see the Jewish Chronicle and the Jewish News competing with and trying to out-do each other with their coverage on the Israeli teams at the Games. And my impression was that there was an overwhelming support for the Israelis by British Jewry.  No-one asked whether they were Jews or Arabs, whether they lived in Tel Aviv or Latrun or on the West Bank, whether they were religious or secular, which political party they voted for or if they were in y’shivah or the IDF.  It was an unconditional support and it was a delight to see.  I’m neither sufficiently naive nor blind to the issues to suggest that the legacy of the Games could – or even should – be a return to the time when British Jewry’s support for Israel politically was also unconditional.  But it has made me stop and think a little about the nature of our attitude towards Israel at the political level and I think a change might be appropriate.  I and many of my colleagues have been following a line where we support so long as Israel lives up to our values system.  It’s difficult for me to say this, but within the current context of boycotts and delegitimisation, perhaps we have to be more concerned with Israel’s very survival and worry a little less about the ethics.  Of course we could – and should – remonstrate when Israeli Government actions fall short of what we would expect from a Jewish State, but in a way that doesn’t give ammunition to its enemies or fairweather friends.

Finally, there were real lessons for British Jewry and the way the different components work with each other.  The team of Jewish chaplains came from across the religious spectrum and we had absolutely no problems with inter-relating, nor did there seem to be a concern from orthodox rabbis about a reform rabbi leading the team.  The Jewish room of prayer had a table on which reform, liberal and orthodox Siddurim sat side by side.  We had a reading desk loaned by a liberal congregation, on which rested a Sefer Torah loaned by a s’fardi synagogue, brought to the Village by a chabad rabbi and read by a refom rabbi.  The Services were shared by the rabbis and attended by observant and non-observant Jews and occasionally non-Jews, men and women, without a m’chitzah and the roof didn’t fall in.  That spirit of mutual respect and cooperation, of pluralist inclusion, must become the norm if British Jewry is to have a a future in which it can genuinely perform its prophetic role of being a light to, a paradigm for, the other faiths in this country.

Am I looking for too much in this catalogue of legacy?  Perhaps, but the moment is right.  Rosh ha-Shanah is a time for demanding high expectations.  My prayer is that British Jewry is up to the challenge.