Tazria - Metzora
April 23, 2004
Rabbi Gary S. Creditor
Temple Beth-El
Richmond, Virginia

I have two separate places to begin this sermon. My first beginning:

A. I have driven downtown Richmond in recent months and wistfully looked at the demolition underway along Broad Street . Having grown up near Newark , New Jersey , I had some sense of the decay of inner cities and their physical destruction, which left ruined, and unihabitated buildings. I hope that the razing of these buildings will augur a rebirth for the center of our city. Yet I look at the corner where Woolworth's once stood with a different feeling. Here was a place in history. In February of 1960, with the country more attentive to the political campaigns of Richard Nixon and John Kennedy, began a movement that would contribute to the changing of the face of America . Starting in Greensboro , North Carolina and reaching Richmond in that springtime were a series of sit-ins at the counters of Woolworth to advance the cause of integration. Somehow I wish they had saved something of that corner. This was part of history; part of a long chain of events that changed America , not only for African-Americans, but for Asians, Moslems and for us Jews too. In particular it is incumbent for us to take note that next month will be fifty years since the Supreme Court's Brown v. Board of Education Decision that "segregation denies the Negro children the equal protection of the laws guaranteed by the 14th Amendment." Not living in the South at the time I cannot even begin to imagine the feeling of the radical shift of social paradigm that it caused then. I do know that we are still living in its aftermath.

B. Where are we fifty years later since the Supreme Court decision, forty-four years since the sit-in at Woolworth? On one hand the paradigm of America as the "melting pot," that by some mysterious process most would become the same, except for some who could never be included, has fortunately yielded to a new model - the patchwork quilt, something like Joseph's coat of many colors. We are equal despite, or especially with our differences. The different groups that make up this country can joyfully and loyally maintain their distinctiveness, of belief, dress, cuisine, and language, instead of sublimating and obliterating their differences, or being excluded. It is a blessing to America to be a panorama of differences. We each can proudly be whom we were born to be, Jews, too. The schools, the malls and the ballparks, are more an array of color, appearance and sounds than the founders of America could have ever imagined. In a short time, the amalgam of the minorities will be the majority.

C. Yet it is clear that America is still struggling to integrate its groups and to construct a clear vision of this country. In the aftermath of 9/11 we had to work exceedingly hard to insure the safety of the Moslem community. A population that had worked hard at quietly making its place suddenly had the spotlight focused on them. I note that there was a recent article about presenting forms in both English and Spanish, a very delicate matter, as the Hispanic population grows rapidly in metropolitan areas like Richmond . Economic opportunity and social amenities like education draw them here. We almost didn't buy our house, for in the covenant of Malvern Gardens there is still a clause that says that my house "can't be sold to Negroes." I was told that while the clause is illegal and non-operative, they just didn't print new forms yet, by 1993. There are still no African-Americans living in my part of town in 2004. And we would be fooling ourselves if we did not admit that the movie "The Passion of the Christ" has given us pause and deep-seated concern about our place in the American scheme of things. We may look, speak and eat like the rest of the population. But we are in synagogue and not in church. Our symbol can be the Magen David or the Menorah, but it is not the Cross. Is this a "Christian Nation," or do we remove "under God" from the Pledge of Allegiance? The negative presentation in the front section of the Times-Dispatch, on NPR and ABC News for example, of Israel in her righteous self-defense, throws us into turmoil, anger and dismay. The disaster of Iraq is not far from our front door. The struggle for the identity of America , who it should be and what it should do, for whom it should care, and how much, to be global or parochial, is deep rooted and far from over. In this context, as Jews, it is incumbent upon us to affirm our particular identity with pride, vigor and commitment, and struggle for our rightful place at the table. Otherwise our place will be abdicated. We will be absorbed and disappear. If that would happen, America would be deprived of our voice and our distinct message. We would betray our historic destiny, and deny our people in Israel and elsewhere the support we can and must provide them.

D. A second beginning:
This Shabbat is the double Torah portion of Tazria and Meztorah. It talks about matters should as childbirth, body fluids, and body afflictions incorrectly called leprosy, as well as contamination of garments and buildings. While difficult and a bit esoteric, I find the subjects illuminating, instructive and applicable.

E. It is clear from the laws concerning childbirth and other body fluids that, as my colleague Rabbi David Greenstein wrote in the Jerusalem Report on this sedra, Judaism clearly believes that "the boundaries of our bodies are never secure. They are permeable. They are susceptible to penetration, leakage and hemorrhage. What is outside may move inside and what is inside may come out." God in the Torah teaches us that our bodies are never static. They are ever changing. We do not have real control over the process. Yet we are identified as who we were and who we are while not sure who we will be. Yet in all our manifestations, male - female, old - young, ill - healthy, we are holy. All parts of us are sacred, the parts that are inside and the parts that are outside, whether the newborn baby or any of our fluids. While it is simple to say that some things are outside the membrane of our skin and other things are inside, we are really not so separated. The lines of distinction are blurred. What is in me now will be outside in an instant, like the air in my lungs. In a moment I will exhale and then inhale, and take in what is now outside. I am, we are, the totality of all of this.

F. I find this teaching useful in constructing my vision of America , particularly from my sensitivity of being a Jew, a minority that is no longer legally classified as a minority, yet sometimes feeling very much a minority.

G. I apply this teaching to say that America , country and all its citizens are holy, sacred in our ever constantly changing state. We must be mindful that all citizens are holy and thus deserve respect and their appropriate place in the fabric of America . We will never be sure of whom we will be. Immigration and economics constantly change the landscape. We are challenged to maintain our distinctive and different ways while creating a society that accepts a common foundation of justice, equity, and fairness. While the details will remain difficult - who will be taken aside in airports for inspection, which will live where, who will get into college, who will get the job, who will get a scholarship - the vision of and for America must remain evident and indisputable. If the pictures of the signers of the Declaration of Independence or of the Constitution were taken today, they would be vastly different from the originals. The streams of immigration that have redefined America will never be reversed. Each group has brought its unique contribution to create our country. Perhaps particularly as Jews we need to be mindful that we have our own special uniqueness and thus should be strong in our identity, confident in our content, and secure enough to present it in the public domain. It is good to be different. We make America better by being different. In the same context, we must never shy away from advocating that in which we truly believe, from political issues to a safe and secure Israel . I am never afraid to be recognized as a Jew by wearing a kippah, in the malls, at The Diamond, or walking down the street. Tazria-Metzorah teaches me, us to be mindful and work for the welfare of all members of society, the "ins" and the "outs," the different and the opposites, for the separations are transient. The Torah teaches us to work hard and diligently at being Jews, and also work hard to improve our community, regardless of which part of the city we live in, or in which county.

Conclusion
In a leap of imagination I wonder about the Rabbi who will stand on the bemah fifty years from now on this same Shabbat, with this Torah portion:
What America will he or she see?
How will the constituent minorities interact, compliment and enhance each other and the totality of our polity?
What will the city of Richmond be like? What will the counties be like?
To what congregation will they preach?
What will be the size, context, and dynamism of the Jewish community?
We will be united as synagogues despite differences, together with the Federation and other constituent agencies as a strong Jewish community?
Will he/she see from this pulpit Jews of different colors and other ethnic origins?
Will the adults and children reflect different religious beginnings that found their way to this sanctuary as the doorway to a meaningful spiritual, religious life?
Will the greater community sense the overriding kedushah - holiness in its parts and in its transitions?
Will it have the sense as Americans and as Jews, in the diversity that is both, to be living in a continuum and be enriched personally and thus enrich the community by living in our differences?
I wonder.

This difficult and even obtuse Torah portion of Tazria-Metzora directs us to look deeper into the reality of whom we are and who we can be. It commands us to look at the holiness of our ever-changing selves, ever-changing community and country, and to see the holiness in us all. May the vision for America and for the Jewish community affirm our integrity, our differences and our unity.

Amen.