Are our synagogues sufficiently inclusive?

Parashat Matot – Massei

Michael R. Mantell, Ph.D.

SAN DIEGO — When you walk into a synagogue, ok, lately when you “Zoom” your way into a synagogue, what do you feel? This week’s parashat, Matot and Massei, on the Shabbat that we bless the new month of Av, offers us some insight into this question.

When I enter a synagogue, I seek to feel an authentic connection, a well-anchored link and emotional stir to my spiritual and religious heritage and ancestry, as well as a sense of harmony, reception and attachment.  A home in which, regardless of how one gets there, unrelated to what kosher symbol one adheres to or rejects, notwithstanding what one wears, joy and sorrow are amiably shared in a genuine, heartfelt way.

Isn’t this what our ancestors were seeking for 40 years while wandering in the wilderness and as they stood at the shores of the River Jordan? As we recite the phrase, Chazak, chazak, v’nitchazeik, “Be strong, be strong, and let us strengthen one another,” our custom when we complete reading a Book of Torah, in this case the book of B’midbar, it’s clear that the Israelites were searching for a similar home.

Oh sure, we can discuss vows, the Midianite wars, the laws of inheritance, cities of refuge that are described in this week’s readings. But there is something particularly important these parashat speak to in our current times, that is, just what is our place of refuge, our promised land, our synagogue?

Do we make room for the well-meaning yet “different,” tribes of Reuben and Gad in our synagogues today? Recall that Reuben and Gad thought differently from Moses, asking for permission to settle on the east bank of the Jordan instead of going along with the rest of the Israelites entering Israel. And what was Moses’ response? “Moses said to the descendants of Gad and Reuben, ‘Shall your brethren go to war while you stay here?’”

And later Moses calls them a breed of sinners, “And behold, you have now risen in place of your fathers as a society of sinful people, to add to the wrathful anger of the Lord against Israel.” But these tribes, as Nachmanides and Abravenel teach, did not want to separate themselves as others pointed fingers and claimed. Indeed they promised to serve as shock-troops in the front of the attack and shared in the risks and dangers that all others in the battle shared. They were accepted into the fabric of the community, and permitted to settle on the east bank, outside of Israel. Moses eventually found a way to be inclusive, convivial, amenable and receptive. Are we?

Are the doors of our synagogues honestly and completely wide open, inclusively and warmly, genuinely accepting all on equal footing, even modern day “Reubens and Gads”? After all, who is perfect? Are we missing parts of our community today, indeed are we turning away members of our community, explicitly or implicitly, from our synagogues? Are our leaders learning from Matot – Massei and focusing on how to connect the disconnected, to become more embracing, more openhearted, and more unifying? We can become more like Moses and ultimately have unconditional acceptance for others, or more like the those who hold negative judgment in their hearts. The choice is ours. The future of our synagogues is in our hands and in our hearts. The lyrics of Yehuda’s “Kol Yisroel Chaverim” speak to the lesson in this week’s parashat:

“And when the winds of hatred blow
Please ask yourselves my friend
Have you done all that
You could have done today
V’ahavta L’reacha Kamocha
Kol Yisroel Chaverim…we are all one family, Kol Yisroel Chaverim.”

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Michael Mantell, Ph.D., prepares a weekly d’var Torah for Young Israel of San Diego, where he and his family worship. He may be contacted via michael.mantell@sdjewishworld.com