Chazans and Israel
Sermon Parshat Tazria 5784
Rabbi Samuel M. Cohon, Congregation Beit Simcha, Tucson, AZ
A chazan, as you may know, is a cantor, the shliach tzibur, the person entrusted with leading the community in prayer. I am, of course, both a rabbi and a chazan, a member of both the Central Conference of American Rabbis and the Cantors Assembly, the two oldest existent professional organizations for rabbis and cantors, respectively, in America, and so I may have a unique perspective on the role of the chazan in the leadership of Jews.
The role of the chazan actually may predate that of the rabbi, since in antiquity those who led prayers had to be expert in text and tune as well as articulation. Most congregants probably did not have siddurim, prayerbooks to follow the prayers, or chumashim, Torah texts. Books were handwritten, expensive and likely hard to come by, so the chazan’s chanting was the way that Jews could speak to God using the beautiful language of our liturgy, and could learn the text of Torah. The word chazan likely is derived from the Hebrew word chazah, to show, as in the one who shows the way. And of course, chazanim, cantors, were supposed to have pleasant voices, even excellent ones, in order to make the prayers soar up to God.
Which reminds me of a classic story. It seems that one Shabbat Palestinian terrorists take over a synagogue, and then hold the rabbi, the chazan and the president hostage. They tell the three, “We are going to kill you, you vile Zionists. But before we execute you, we are going to grant each of you a final request.”
The Palestinian terrorists turn first to the rabbi and they say, “What’s your final request?” And he says, “I have this amazing sermon I was going to preach, the best one I’ve ever written. I’d like to deliver it before you kill me.” The terrorists say, “How long will it take?” And the rabbi answers, “One hour.” So they say, “OK, you can deliver your sermon and then we’ll shoot you.”
They next turn to the chazan and they ask him, “What’s your final request?” And he says, “I have this incredible ma’ariv evening service I’ve always wanted to chant. It’s the most extraordinary Jewish music ever, and I’d like to sing it.” And the terrorists say, “How long will it take?” And the chazan answers, “Two hours.” So they say, “OK, you can sing your service and then we’ll shoot you.”
The terrorists then turn to the president of the synagogue and they ask him, “What’s your final request?” And the president says, “Shoot me first.”
I realize this is particularly dark humor this year, when we have seen Israeli hostages held for more than six months now in and under Gaza, and we don’t even know how many of them remain alive, or if they will be freed during the coming Pesach, the Festival of Freedom. Still, in good times and especially in bad times, we Jews have always responded to persecution, pogrom and tragedy with our own brand of sardonic humor.
This extemporanea about chazanim is provoked by a little exploration I did concerning attitudes towards Israel today among world Jewry, both in America and in other parts of the Diaspora, and it comes from two articles written by people with the last name of Chazan. And while these are not new articles—perhaps because they are not new articles—they have much to show us about how we can and should respond to questions about our support for Israel today.
Over twenty years ago Professor Barry Chazan, then Professor of Education at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem wrote a challenging article about the Diaspora’s relationship with Israel (Struggling for Israel in The Sovereign and Situated Self, 2003). The context of his article was the rapid downturn of engagement with Israel in synagogues and Jewish communities worldwide that began with the Second Intifada of 2000 and which ended with the building of the separation barrier between the West Bank and Israel.
He began his article with this challenge: “We have lost the authentic narrative of Israel in the lives of the Jewish people.” He said that in the melee of politics, opposition to the policies of a particular Israeli government, horror at the effects of the struggle between radical Palestinian terrorists and the State of Israel and the risk of disdain from our neighbors who are not connected to Israel, or who do not support Israeli actions or policies, we have failed to teach and pass on to our future generations the continuation of the centuries old link between Erets Yisrael, the land of Israel, and Jewish culture, Jewish civilization and Jewish religion. Israel, Chazan said, is an indispensable element of being Jewish and of Jewish peoplehood.
Of course he was right, and ahead of his time. Connection to Israel in the is as indispensable an element of being Jewish as is connection to Shabbat, to Jewish festivals, to our Jewish texts, to our responsibility for Tikkun Olam, the improvement of the world in our lifetime, to caring for others and all that we understand as the Mitzvot, our Jewish duties. Caring about and supporting Israel is not optional.
This connection is not and cannot be conditional on how Israel acts at a particular time in history. Our Bible, particularly our Haftarah portions, continually document how Israel under various kings acted dreadfully – in Elijah’s time it was King Ahab supporting the prophets of Baal to bring the Israelite people into idolotary; in Isaiah’s day he describes a society where the rights of the stranger, the widow and the orphan are trampled upon by a falsely pious wealthy few. The prophet Amos says that people in power in Israel who would sell the needy for a pair of shoes. Jeremiah lavishes some of the most beautiful poetic imagery in the history of literature to describe how thoroughly rotten the Israelites are acting both in embracing idolatry and cheating the poor and hungry. None of these great prophets said “Since you disagree with some of Israel’s actions you should stop supporting the right of the Jewish people to live in the land.” They all advocated a continuing connection with Israel and a profound duty to improve her.
Another Professor Chazan – Naomi Chazan, then President of the New Israel Fund—also weighed in. At a conference of the European Union for Progressive Judaism she said that “the most patriotic thing you can do as a Jew is to fight for a decent and just Israel.”
Our link with Israel – cultural, religious, and peoplehood based, is so central to Jewish identity that it cannot be conditional on us fully approving how Israel acts.
The first Chazan here, Professor Barry Chazan set out six ways in which we can ensure that we here in the Diaspora and our children will build our span in the bridge to Israel for now and the future. Mind you, he said all of this more than 20 years ago. I only wish the world Jewish community had fully listened and acted on these principles with the full weight of its resources beginning two decades ago.
First, he said, we should teach our core Jewish texts with Israel intertwined. Part of our Torah portion today, Tazria, is about a house built in the Land of Israel which is rotting but can be fixed. Our Torah texts will continue for most of the rest of this Jewish year with the introductory words “when you come into the land of Israel” – they are here to establish values which will make the Jewish nation and our relationship to it sacred, unique, holy.
Second, we should not dumb down our engagement with Israel – rather in what we do in our Diaspora communities we should emphasize the realities of the contemporary State of Israel with all of its confusions. As Naomi Chazan says, “We have to distinguish between dissenters and destroyers”. In the debate over judicial reform last year in Israel hundreds of thousands of Israelis came out to peacefully protest the Netanyahu government’s attempt at a judicial coup, to defend democracy in Israel. These, our brothers and sisters were not destroying Israel – they were seeking to preserve a central, nearly sacred aspect of our Jewish State for the present and the future. But when Israel was attacked in the horrific atrocities of October 7th they all rallied to the support of the only Jewish nation on the planet, and did so with great energy, devotion and passion.
Most Israelis have no use for their Prime Minister now—but they support their nation and its right to exist. So must we, too, and do so with passion but with intelligence, that supremely Jewish quality.
Third, Barry Chazan recommends we must use the Hebrew language. This is our unique possession by which we best express Jewish ideas and, spoken, written in, sung in, it conveys the culture and civilization of our people better than you could ever do in English.
Fourth we must create multiple Israel experiences throughout the year – chances to celebrate, times to learn, opportunities to enjoy Israeli food, music, film, art – just woven into what it means to be a Jew anywhere in the world in 2024, as we seek to do at Beit Simcha in every way that we can.
Fifth, Barry Chazan says, make sure that there is plenty of access to Israelis as he writes “we should use real human beings. One of the best texts we have in teaching Israel is real Israelis. …. By giving the Jewish people access to all kinds of Israelis, we are offering them an opportunity to view Israel as the diverse textbook of Jewishness that it is.”
Finally, we should go to Israel, even at times of great challenge—perhaps especially at times of its greatest challenges. Israel changes rapidly and only by seeing with your own eyes can you experience the potential for our Jewish state, see its struggles, experience how it is to live just a few miles from a place where there are people who have continually tried to destroy your country, experience the determination of Israelis who campaign for co-existence, find yourself right in the middle of the debate about how Israel will be.
Mind you, these ideas are not new. But at time of supreme difficulty for Israel, when the enemies of the existence of a Jewish state are emboldened everywhere, it is of utmost importance that we play our important part in affirming the central role that Israel plays in our own Jewish identities.
Even when we disagree with its government, or that government’s actions. The modern State of Israel is the fulfillment of a dream, yes, im tirtzu ein zo Aggadah, if you will it, it is no dream; but it is also reality that must lie close to our hearts. Our support for it should neither falter nor flag, even while we disagree with some of its actions.
And may the Land of Israel again soon know peace.