A New Thing

Sermon on Shabbat Tetzaveh/Zachor

by Rabbi Samuel M. Cohon

Last night I participated in the annual Celebration of Prayer put on by the Northwest T ucson Multi-Faith Fellowship.  Since we were out of the country when this service was planned and I wasn’t there for the meetings that planned it, I admit that when I saw the theme chosen for that service, I was a little surprised, even taken aback.  It was “A New Thing.”  A new thing.  Hmmm.  Now, often our Multi-Faith services for this wonderful, supportive group of clergy and congregants have focused on topics one might expect: Thanksgiving, Gratitude, Peace, Creation, and so on.  Those are, relatively speaking, easy topics for a rabbi to reflect upon, to pray, to sing.  But just what kind of theme was “A New Thing” supposed to represent?  New things can be good, of course, even wonderful.  But new things can also be, well, bad, damaging, harmful, can’t they?  What are they besides new? 

I began by looking at the passage quoted in our service flier and used to speak to the theme, taken from the great prophet Second Isaiah in the Tanakh, the Hebrew Bible, and I looked at the context of that quotation.  In Chapter 43 of Isaiah, Yeshayahu, it reads:

הִנְנִ֨י עֹשֶׂ֤ה חֲדָשָׁה֙ עַתָּ֣ה תִצְמָ֔ח הֲל֖וֹא תֵּדָע֑וּהָ אַ֣ף אָשִׂ֤ים בַּמִּדְבָּר֙ דֶּ֔רֶךְ בִּישִׁמ֖וֹן נְהָרֽוֹת׃

I am about to do something new;
Even now it shall come to pass,
Suddenly you shall perceive it:
I will make a road through the wilderness
And rivers in the desert.

תְּכַבְּדֵ֙נִי֙ חַיַּ֣ת הַשָּׂדֶ֔ה תַּנִּ֖ים וּבְנ֣וֹת יַעֲנָ֑ה כִּֽי־נָתַ֨תִּי בַמִּדְבָּ֜ר מַ֗יִם נְהָרוֹת֙ בִּֽישִׁימֹ֔ן לְהַשְׁק֖וֹת עַמִּ֥י בְחִירִֽי׃

The wild beasts shall honor Me,
Jackals and ostriches,
For I provide water in the wilderness,
Rivers in the desert,
To give drink to My chosen people,

Naturally, I immediately looked at the weather report for in Tucson and discovered that indeed, after the driest winter on record in Pima County rain was coming today!  Clearly, that indeed, after all this dry weather and drought, seems like a very new thing.  “Water in the wilderness, Rivers in the desert, To give drink to My chosen people.”  Lovely!

What also came to mind shortly after that was two beautiful passages from the Psalms that we sing Friday night in our Kabbalat Shabbat, the Psalms that that welcome the coming of the Sabbath.  First, from Psalm 96:

שִׁ֣ירוּ לַ֭יהֹוָה שִׁ֣יר חָדָ֑שׁ שִׁ֥ירוּ לַ֝יהֹוָ֗ה כׇּל־הָאָֽרֶץ׃

Sing to the LORD a new song,
sing to the LORD, all the earth.

שִׁ֣ירוּ לַ֭יהֹוָה בָּרְכ֣וּ שְׁמ֑וֹ בַּשְּׂר֥וּ מִיּֽוֹם־לְ֝י֗וֹם יְשׁוּעָתֽוֹ׃

Sing to the LORD, bless His name,
proclaim His victory day after day.

סַפְּר֣וּ בַגּוֹיִ֣ם כְּבוֹד֑וֹ בְּכׇל־הָ֝עַמִּ֗ים נִפְלְאוֹתָֽיו׃

Tell of His glory among the nations,
His wondrous deeds, among all peoples.

And then, from Psalm 98, also part of our liturgy, our prayers on Friday night:

מִזְמ֡וֹר שִׁ֤ירוּ לַיהֹוָ֨ה ׀ שִׁ֣יר חָ֭דָשׁ כִּֽי־נִפְלָא֣וֹת עָשָׂ֑ה הוֹשִׁיעָה־לּ֥וֹ יְ֝מִינ֗וֹ וּזְר֥וֹעַ קׇדְשֽׁוֹ׃

A psalm.  Sing to the LORD a new song,
for He has worked wonders;
His right hand, His holy arm,
has won Him victory.

הוֹדִ֣יעַ יְ֭הֹוָה יְשׁוּעָת֑וֹ לְעֵינֵ֥י הַ֝גּוֹיִ֗ם גִּלָּ֥ה צִדְקָתֽוֹ׃

The LORD has manifested His victory,
has displayed His triumph in the sight of the nations.

זָ֘כַ֤ר חַסְדּ֨וֹ ׀ וֶ֥אֱֽמוּנָתוֹ֮ לְבֵ֢ית יִשְׂרָ֫אֵ֥ל רָא֥וּ כׇל־אַפְסֵי־אָ֑רֶץ אֵ֝֗ת יְשׁוּעַ֥ת אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ׃

He was mindful of His steadfast love and faithfulness toward the house of Israel;
all the ends of the earth beheld the victory of our God.

הָרִ֣יעוּ לַ֭יהֹוָה כׇּל־הָאָ֑רֶץ פִּצְח֖וּ וְרַנְּנ֣וּ וְזַמֵּֽרוּ׃

Raise a shout to the LORD, all the earth,
break into joyous songs of praise!

Clearly, a song to praise God in all God’s glory and majesty, in the beauty of God’s holiness, in the splendor of God’s unshakeable love for us.  But what exactly is really new about this?  After all, these passages come from a book that is, at least, 2300 years old, and most people think the Psalms go back much further than that.  So these passages were new when the earth was a lot younger, right?  What precisely can we claim represents true novelty, something new, in these wonderful sentiments?

But then I thought of a favorite passage on newness from perhaps the most challenging of all the prophets of the Hebrew Bible, Ezekiel, truly a wild man of God.  He predicts that God will say:

Ezekiel 36:24-28

וְלָקַחְתִּ֤י אֶתְכֶם֙ מִן־הַגּוֹיִ֔ם וְקִבַּצְתִּ֥י אֶתְכֶ֖ם מִכׇּל־הָאֲרָצ֑וֹת וְהֵבֵאתִ֥י אֶתְכֶ֖ם אֶל־אַדְמַתְכֶֽם׃

I will take you from among the nations and gather you from all the countries, and I will bring you back to your own land.

וְזָרַקְתִּ֧י עֲלֵיכֶ֛ם מַ֥יִם טְהוֹרִ֖ים וּטְהַרְתֶּ֑ם מִכֹּ֧ל טֻמְאוֹתֵיכֶ֛ם וּמִכׇּל־גִּלּ֥וּלֵיכֶ֖ם אֲטַהֵ֥ר אֶתְכֶֽם׃

I will sprinkle pure water upon you, and you shall be purified: I will purify you from all your defilement [and from all your fetishes.]

וְנָתַתִּ֤י לָכֶם֙ לֵ֣ב חָדָ֔שׁ וְר֥וּחַ חֲדָשָׁ֖ה אֶתֵּ֣ן בְּקִרְבְּכֶ֑ם וַהֲסִ֨רֹתִ֜י אֶת־לֵ֤ב הָאֶ֙בֶן֙ מִבְּשַׂרְכֶ֔ם וְנָתַתִּ֥י לָכֶ֖ם לֵ֥ב בָּשָֽׂר׃

And I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit into you: I will remove the heart of stone from your body and give you a heart of flesh;

וְאֶת־רוּחִ֖י אֶתֵּ֣ן בְּקִרְבְּכֶ֑ם וְעָשִׂ֗יתִי אֵ֤ת אֲשֶׁר־בְּחֻקַּי֙ תֵּלֵ֔כוּ וּמִשְׁפָּטַ֥י תִּשְׁמְר֖וּ וַעֲשִׂיתֶֽם׃

and I will put My spirit into you. Thus I will cause you to follow My laws and faithfully to observe My rules.

וִישַׁבְתֶּ֣ם בָּאָ֔רֶץ אֲשֶׁ֥ר נָתַ֖תִּי לַאֲבֹֽתֵיכֶ֑ם וִהְיִ֤יתֶם לִי֙ לְעָ֔ם וְאָ֣נֹכִ֔י אֶהְיֶ֥ה לָכֶ֖ם לֵאלֹהִֽים׃

Then you shall dwell in the land that I gave to your ancestors, and you shall be My people and I will be your God.

Now that might just be a message we need to hear today, and to hear it anew.  Ezekiel was prophesying almost 2600 years ago in Babylonia, in today’s Iraq, telling the Jews in their exile that things would change in a new way—but first, that they would have to change, and become, in a way, new people.

It was a terrible time then, after the Destruction of the First Temple and our forcible exile by the waters of Babylon.  There was great distress, and mourning, and loss, and there must have been great anger and resentment, too.  It would have been easy in that time of depression and enormous hostility, of chaos and rampant distrust, to give up, to surrender, to give in to hatred in their hearts.  Yet Ezekiel, wild, crazy Ezekiel, insisted instead that the Israelites, the Jews, must find ways to open their hearts anew, to renew their spirits.  That newness, that novelty, that fresh gift of heart and spirit would allow them to rebuild their lives, to overcome oppression and distress and rise to rebuild their temple and their homeland, to renew their land and nation and their lives in ways that were good, virtuous, moral, true, and positive.

Perhaps that can be a lesson for all of us now: that we must renew our hearts and our own spirits, rise to the challenge of our own time, and overcome anger and hate with commitment and dedication to what is right and good and true, and what we know to be right and good and true and honest and positive.

I think this lesson is especially important on Shabbat Zachor, the Sabbath of remembrance before Purim.  On this Shabbat we remember the teaching of our tradition: that evil aggressors cannot be pacified by appeasement.  That unprovoked attackers must be punished.  That the purveyors of wickedness, of lies and dishonest dealings need to be stopped with all force necessary, and as quickly as humanly possible.  And that standing up for the right is a Jewish requirement of faith.

In a time of confusion and chaos, faith matters—but so, too, does commitment to work for what is good and valuable, to face challenges to our way of life and our beliefs with courage and fortitude, with honesty and decency and profound dedication and commitment.  Ken Yehi Ratson: May this prove to be our will; for if we can do this, then God will surely bless us with what is not only new but also very urgently needed now.