this the text of my Shabbat sermon from 2/27/16 –
I have often been told by people over the years that their favorite moment in the service is the singing of ‘l’dor vador’ during the kedushah. I think one of the reasons for that – along with the beautiful music – is that people know what the phrase means – from generation to generation – and that idea is important to people, it is something they have lived in their lives and believe in. They know that they have received the tradition from their parents and grandparents, and one of the hopes they have is that they will see the tradition passed on to their children and one day grandchildren.
This sense of ‘generation to generation’ is not only about faith, we do it with many other things as well. Music is one example. I remember when Becky was pregnant with Tali, our first, I used to have her stand next to my stereo speakers with her stomach pointed towards the speaker and I would play Grateful Dead music, hoping that somehow through osmosis the baby would grow to love the music that is so important to me. We also do it with sports – how many young Baltimoreans are given a Ravens or Orioles jersey when they are babies, the parents and grandparents hoping that that will set the child on the path to being a passionate Baltimore sports fan. Of course we also hope to transmit certain values to our children, a sense of what is important, of what should be prioritized in life, perhaps an ethical code we hope they’ll use to navigate the world.
And we also, probably more today than ever, hope to give our children our political values. The way political discourse has become so polarized, I imagine there are quite a few Republicans in the room who would cringe if their children became Democrats, and vice versa. The problem with all of this, of course, is that for some reason it just doesn’t seem to work precisely the way that we as parents have planned. Go back to the music for a second – for all of that time Becky spent standing in front of that stereo that was blasting Grateful Dead music Tali basically has no interest in it. In terms of sports, even in Baltimore you can find the occasional Duke or Pittsburgh Steelers or Yankees fan, a young man or woman with just enough of an iconoclastic streak to buck the trends.
Maybe more than anything else it is the area of politics where our children will take, at least to us, an unexpected turn. It has been interesting to follow the debate taking place within feminist circles over the last number of weeks about the way younger women in the primary elections and caucuses have been voting for Bernie Sanders and not Hillary Clinton. This is making the older feminists crazy. It came to a head a couple of weeks ago when former Secretary of State Madeline Albright warned women around the country that, and this is a direct quote, “there is a special place in Hell for women who don’t help each other.” She has since apologized for the comment, but the fact that she made it in the first place shows you how frustrated the older generation of women is – or at least a segment of that generation – by the fact the their younger counterparts are supporting Bernie. And in large numbers! There are some statistics that show that more than %80 of women under thirty support Bernie, a 74 year old white man, and not Hillary Clinton, arguably one of the great feminist icons of our time.
This idea of the younger generation having its own mind is not exactly a new one. Some of you may remember the 60s and the incredible revolution that occurred with the college generation, the effects of which we still feel in today’s world. But I would push it back even farther than that, all the way to the Bible itself. In the Torah that younger generation is symbolized by the figure of Joshua, the loyal servant of both God and Moses. It is Joshua who is the field commander for the Israelites when they battle against Amalek, the quarterback on the field to Moses’ coach on top of the mountain. In this week’s Torah portion Joshua, who is patiently waiting at the foot of Mt. Sinai for Moses to return, calls out in alarm when he feels something has gone wrong in the Israelite camp. Later on, in the book of Numbers, we know that Joshua will lead the ill fated mission of the spies when they are sent to scout out the Promised Land, and although the spies lose their faith, Joshua manages to stay true. It is also Joshua who is filled with רוח חכמה – with the spirit of wisdom – in the very last verse of the Torah, when Moses dies and Joshua becomes the leader of Israel. And it is interesting to note that Joshua has his own eponymously named biblical book, something that even the great Moses does not achieve.
But my favorite story about Joshua is found in the 27th chapter of the Book of Numbers. It is in that chapter that God tells Moses that he will be dying soon, that he needs to begin to prepare the people for the next leader. And I’ve always loved Moses’ response – very canny – he simply says ‘ok, then let God appoint a new leader, someone who will be able to handle the people, do all the things I’ve been doing, take care of all the problems.’ It is almost like Moses is saying to God – ‘go ahead and try to find someone who can do what I do.’ In other words, you’ll never find anybody, you’ll have to keep me around whether you like it or not.
God doesn’t hesitate. ‘Joshua is right there Moses,’ God says. ‘Right next to you. Reach out your hand, וסמכת את ידך עליו – put your hand on him!’ And what is always striking to me about that passage is that Joshua was standing right in front of Moses, and had been for years. But Moses had no idea that Joshua had become his own person, with his own talents, his own leadership qualities, his own interests, his own life. And it wasn’t until God said ‘there is Joshua’ that Moses realized the next generation really was ready to take over, and to begin to do things their own way. Maybe Moses would agree with it, maybe he wouldn’t. Most likely some of it he wouldn’t like at all, and some he would probably feel quite proud of. But that wasn’t event the point. The point was Moses had to let go, and let Joshua do it in his own way.
We might say the same for our own children and grandchildren. We do our best to give them the tools they’ll need to live good lives and to be decent people, teaching them whatever we can in the relatively few years they spend living under our roofs. But somehow, right in front of our eyes, almost without our knowing it, they become adults, with their own thoughts, tastes in music, values, sports affiliations, ways of being and doing Jewish, and even with their own political ideas and loyalties. And if they don’t match with ours exactly, or even at all, our job at that point is to say so be it.
After all that is what we do our best to raise them to – to be thoughtful, independent individuals who will forge their own paths in every area of life. That can be challenging at times, but it seems to me it is something to be celebrated, something that means we’ve done our work well. May our children and grandchildren in turn do their work well, in their own time, and yes, in their own way.