Jewish Post, Indianapolis, Marion County, 22 February 1989 — Page 36

February 22,1989 Page National 8

What makes me part

This is a sermon delivered by Rabbi Jack Segal to his Congregation Beth Yeshurun in Houston. It was mailed to the children of the congregations at universities as part of a regular series whereby he keeps in contact with students of congregants on campuses nationwide. By RABBI JACK SEGAL A little more than a week ago, just before Yom Kippur, I received a long distance phone call from a young woman living in Tennessee. She said, "Rabbi Segal, do you remember me? Do you recognize my voice?" I hesitated, but I had to be honest. I said, "No." She then said, "I didn't think you would remember me. You converted me to Judaism 11 years ago. Of course you couldn't remember me. You haven't seen me in 11 years and you haven't heard my voice in 11 years." "However, I have a problem and I wonder if you could help me. We have belonged to the Conservative synagogue here for quite a number of years, but recently our rabbi left for another city and a new rabbi came to our synagogue. The new rabbi is totally and completely different from our former rabbi. We had a very dose and warm relationship with our former rabbi, but the new rabbi is like an iceberg near Greenland in regard to us. It is impossible to get dose to him. 'Therefore, one day my husband and I decided that it was time for a change. We definitely did not want to become Reform. That was too liberal for us. We love Jewish ritual and tradition and we could not find it in the Reform congregation. So we decided to join the Orthodox synagogue. We really enjoyed the traditions, the rituals, and the customs that we found there—and we were especially happy that the rabbi at the Orthodox synagogue befriended us. "However, just before Rosh Hashanah, the rabbi met with us and told us that I had a problem. He told us that he had learned that I had been converted to Judaism, and that you. Rabbi Segal, had converted me to Judaism. He stated that he knew that you, Rabbi Segal, are a Conservative rabbi. He then said that Conservative Judaism was not considered a valid alternative of Judaism for Orthodox Jews. To Orthodox Judaism there was only one valid and bona fide Judaism — and that was Orthodox Judaism. He said that even though you. Rabbi Segal, may have performed all the rituals that Orthodox rabbis would normally perform in a conversion, still, your conversion was not considered genuine or authentic by Orthodox Judaism — because you were a Conservative rabbi. Your actions were not considered "actions." Consequently, he informed me that I was still not a Jew and I still had to be converted to Judaism if I wanted to be a Jew." "Rabbi, I am confused. For 11 years I thought I was a Jew, I acted as a Jew, I prayed to God as a Jew, I went to a synagogue every Shabbat as a Jew, I raised my children as Jews, and I kept kosher as a Jew. But now I am being told that I am not a Jew." 'Tell me, Rabbi Segal, what should I do?" My friends, I do not want to go right now into the details of my advice to this warm-hearted woman; however, I personally feel that too much emphasis has been placed in recent years on the technicalities of becoming a Jew while we have almost totally ignored and shrugged off the obligations of a Jew to remain a Jew. Fifteen hundred years ago the Talmud stated (Yebamoth 79a): "Sheloshahseemanim yesh b'oomah zu, ha-rachamanim, v'ha-bai'shanim, v’gomlay chasadim ... Kol she'yesh bo sheloshah seemanim halalu ra'ooi I'he-dabek ba-oomah zu," 'The Jewish people are characterized by

three dimensions. They are compassionate, modest, and they do acts of loving-kindness. All those who possess these three characteristics may truly consider themselves as part of the Jewish people." Fifteen hundred years ago this rabbi said: "Of course there is a special ritual to be performed to become a Jew, but more important than that fleeting and momentary ritual is the lifestyle one accepts for himself for the years to come." First, he said, a Jew has to demonstrate the characteristic of rachamanim, being compassionate. The Torah says (Exodus 22:20), "V'ger lo toneh," "Do not wrong or oppress even a stranger. [Always be compassionate to all] because you were strangers in the land of Egypt [and you know how you wanted people to be compassionate toward you.]" There is a school in England where they even attempt to teach the students how to be compassionate. One day a year is called "Blind Day." The night before Blind D til freshmen studvn.ls — who are about 14 years of age — r tided. The next morning, each teenager awakens as if he is x, k* cannot see anything. He needs other students, upper classmen, to help him about, to guide him, to direct him, to steer him, and to counsel him. Through this method he is taught what it is really like to be blind, how important it is to be helped by others, and how important it is to help others. So, too, in this school there are also days designated as "Deaf Day," "Lame Day," and "No Speaking Day." This school demands much more from its students than merely high grades in chemistry, physics, and mathematics. This school also demands from the students compassion and understanding, tenderness and warmheartedness. Yes, the students of this school may not be Jewish, but this is the way all Jews should act. There is a story told about President William McKinley, the 25th president of the United States who was our president toward the end of the 19th century. During his administration, he had to make a choice between two equally competent men for a high diplomatic post. It was almost impossible for him to arrive at a decision. But then, an incident occurred that helped him make up his mind. One stormy night, McKinley boarded a streetcar and took the only available seat left. Shortly afterwards, a washerwoman with a large basket of clothes climbed aboard. Not a single person rose to give her a seat. One of the two candidates McKinley was considering for that important position was sitting nearby; however, his head was deeply immersed in a newspaper. McKinley noticed that as the woman passed him, he merely put his face deeper into his newspaper. He obviously did not want to see her plight. McKinley arose from his seat, took the woman's basket from her arms, and led her to his seat. That candidate never looked up from his newspaper. The next day McKinley dictated a letter to the other candidate informing him that he had been chosen. McKinley said to a friend, 'To be a member of my staff you've got to indicate a special characteristic — compassion." My friends, almost 1,400 years before President McKinley was born, and 1500 years before that school in England introduced its "Blind Day," a rabbi wrote in the Talmud, "If you really want to be a Jew you must be compassionate. Otherwise, you are only an artificial and ersatz Jew — but not a genuine Jew." The second characteristic of a Jew is "Baishanim” — modesty. To me, that word is evaporating and disappearing as quickly as