a sermon by Rabbi Gary M. Bretton-Granatoor
Congregation Shirat HaYam, Nantucket
Yom Kippur morning 5785
There is an old joke about a ship passing by an isolated island in the middle of the ocean. Upon closer inspection they see two people surviving on the beach. The captain detours to see if they need rescue. The captain meets the two survivors, who appear to be in good health even though they were shipwrecked for over a decade. The captain asks how they survive, and he is offered a tour of the island the two inhabited. As they pass one hut, the captain asks, what was that hut used for? One answers, “That’s my synagogue.” They continue the tour, and they approach another hut, the captain queries, “And that hut?” The second answers, “That’s my synagogue.” In the distance the captain notices a third hut. “And that hut?” The two answer at the same time, “Nobody goes to that synagogue.”
But on this island…. We have something unique. This is a congregation that has embraced all members regardless of their backgrounds, affiliations, personal religious and/or spiritual practices. For 43 years, Shirat HaYam has been the singular congregation on this island. In this pluralistic, diverse, and yet respectful community, can we do something difficult, but so necessary….
It is with great trepidation that I embark upon a thought experiment with you –
Can we begin to imagine the contours of a robust Zionism that will allow us to vision a realistic future of the Jewish state? And talk about it. And engage in respectful and supportive dialogue. Maybe even model this work for others.
The person credited with founding the Zionist movement was Theodor Herzl (1860–1904). His Zionism was “purely political in theory and practice: the Jews as a nation did not need a new culture, language, or concept of the messianic era, but only a national polity of their own, whose creation would solve the problem of anti-Semitism both for the Jews themselves and for Europe as a whole.” (Michael Stanislawski “Zionism: A Very Short Introduction”)
And after the land of our ancestors was conquered by Alexander the Great, it was conquered and ruled over by the Selucids, the Romans, Constantine, the Muslims… In 1517 it was taken over by the Ottomans, and four hundred years later by the British. In 1948, the United Nations partitioned the land into two nations, a Jewish State, and an Arab one, but the Arabs waged war against the nascent state, and in the first of many defensive wars, Israel won, expanded its borders, and declared its independence.
Most of us grew up with the vision of the pre-1967 Israel – a vision of a haven for Jews who witnessed the greatest tragedy of our people since the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 CE. A scrappy, beleaguered start-up nation living in a sea of enemy nations. Pictures would circulate of early kibbutznikim wearing funny hats, working the almost unworkable earth. Devising dripper systems to bring water to desert farms with little evaporation. And with few people and limited munitions, winning three defensive wars in 1948, 1956, and 1967. Surrounded by oppressive societies, creating a thriving democracy. In the wake of the Shoah, most non-Arab nations were accepting of this little country or ignored it completely.
All that changed in six days in June of 1967. In six days, Israel vanquished three enemy armies on three separate fronts, expanded its borders, and regained the Temple Mount. In six days, Israel went from being a little country to being a world super-power. And as such, much of the world took notice and most did so in a negative way.
Despite never having a reasonable partner to negotiate peace with its Arab population or surrounding nations, Israel was wholly held to account. Even when offered 97% of their actual demands, and Palestinian leadership rejected the offer, Israel was deemed at fault by most of the world.
Zionism, once simply the expression of national yearning of Jewish people to exist in peace in a land of their own, has become a label of derision in much of the world. Once a source of pride to most Jews across political and ideological differences, now there is a generational divide even within our Jewish community. Younger generations than mine and most of yours, grew up in a world where Israel was all-powerful, and asserted that power on the Palestinian population in ways that flew in the face of the values they originally learned from us. Social media memes, campus protests, partisan academics, intersectionality, and their own assessments, have led to many of the younger and emerging generations to see Zionism as discriminatory, unjust, or even racist. And the wider non-Jewish world has an equally repugnant view of Zionism, equating it with South African Apartheid.
But we need to reclaim Zionism and define it in ways in which many of us can agree.
In the early weeks of this past summer, there was controversy over how the events of October 7, and Zionism writ-large, would be taught and discussed in Jewish summer camps across North America. Rabbi Eric Yoffie, picking up this challenge, offered a working definition of Zionism that he thought should undergird the summer camp educational program (“How Should U.S. Jewish Summer Camps Teach About Israel Post-October 7?” July 1, 2024 published in HaAretz). Using the contours of his suggestion as a starting point, I wonder if many, if not most of us, would agree with these elements of a working definition. And if so, could we use these to engage with one another as we dream a better future for Israel, and the Jewish world.
First, our definition of Zionism should assert a belief in a Jewish and democratic Israel. Second, it should express an unshakeable love of Zion – the land of our history, ancestry, and constant longing. Third, it must affirm the need for Israeli power to defend our people and our land. Fourth, it must state a promise of individual equality and human rights for all citizens of the Jewish state. Fifth, it would support good faith efforts to resolve the impasse over the territories known by some as Judea/Samaria and by others as the West Bank. Sixth, it must recognize “both the spiritual implications and the political consequences of the fact that this small tract of land is the homeland of two peoples fated to live facing each other” (Gil Troy) and assert a commitment to finding a solution for Palestinian self-rule, recognizing reasonable Israeli concerns, so that Israelis and Palestinians can live securely and in peace. Seventh, it must reject ideologies that call for the mass expulsion or mistreatment of non-Israelis. And eighth, it must support efforts to eliminate the threats of Hamas, Hezbollah, and their Iranian sponsor, who engage in acts of genocidal murder against the Jewish people. (Thanks to Elliot Pollack for his helpful suggestions and insight).
Using this working definition of Zionism, can we engage in dialogue with one another in our community? How can we use this definition to create programs and opportunities for our members to engage with those around them, and closest to them, to dream a better Israel, and work towards that vision? Can we offer the emerging generations an opportunity to weigh in on our working definition and explore with them the possibility of embracing these ideas?
We need to start somewhere. For many of us, our Jewish identity is tied with the viability of Jewish nationalism. Even if we choose to live elsewhere, knowing that there is one place on earth where Jews can be the architects of our own destiny, is a comfort. Many Jews who escaped the death camps made their home there, as did those escaping Arab nations, as did those who suffered under the Soviet regime, or those who were derisively labeled Falashas, or those who simply wanted to live as Jews among Jews. Israel needs Jews who express a vision for the Israel that could be, that should be. And by engaging with one another here, and maybe beyond, we can help realize a robust haven for Jews, of Jews, and those who want to live among Jews, in a land of which we can be proud.