Thursday, March 25, 2010

What It Means to Be a Pastor/Preacher/Teacher/Rabbi

What It Means to Be a Pastor/Preacher/Teacher/Rabbi

Rabbi Gary S. Creditor

March 21, 2008

 

I begin these remarks by stating that there is a clear ruling by the I.R.S. concerning what those in the pulpit can say that risk their synagogue/church loosing their tax-exempt status. While some might flaunt that or skirt its edges, I have always followed the Jewish practice of observing a buffer zone so as never to infringe and risk violating and endangering the welfare of my shul.

 

My next statement is that there is no way that I can frame my feelings about this week's speech by Senator Barack Obama concerning his minister Reverend Jeremiah Wright nor his statements within the contexts of a sermon. Despite Purim and all my other work as your Rabbi, this week I have followed the speech and the ongoing analysis that will influence voters in the remaining primaries, and, should he become the national candidate, influence the rest of us in the November election. My Rabbinic network alone lit up like the proverbial "Christmas Tree." My colleagues have dissected the speech like a Biblical and Talmudic commentary with much depth and perception. I am still digesting their wisdom. I also follow national commentators such as Charles Krauthammer, and recommend that you read on the widest scale. Just search the Web.

 

I want to share a few moments about being a preacher. It was the one aspect of the Rabbinate that scared me the most.

What do you say?

Why do you say it?

How do you say it?

Does anybody care about what you are saying?

Will they like me after I have said it?

How accurate do I have to be, or can I get away with hyperbole and rhetoric?

Should I be controversial and say it anyway, just to light their fire?

We all respond to these questions in our own ways. Some of us patterned ourselves after the Rabbis we grew up with or who were our mentors in school. I have saved every sermon I have ever delivered. It would be an interesting read.

 

I don't know if the adjectives "most," "some," or "many" apply to how many of my colleagues preach from a written text. I nearly always do. It means that I have shaped these words to say exactly what I want to say. It keeps me focused. It allows me to delete, cut and paste, or insert to make this as finished a product as I possibly can. I 'commune with my keyboard.' On the other hand, I practice the art of reading a text and talking to you. It inhibits off-the-cuff, spontaneous, and impulsive comments. It restrains passionate outbreaks unless they were preplanned into the text. Because I prepare sermons by writing them, printing them, reading them and revising them, I try to put myself in your place as if I was hearing someone else deliver them and then decide, is that what I want to say and how I want to say it? Rabbis' sermons are quite different from African-American preaching. Sometimes I thunder and even hit the lectern. Most times I desire to teach, to illuminate, to share insights and attitudes. I gave up yelling and telling people what to do a long time ago. I still hope to influence people in their thoughts and behaviors, but rather from a posture of reason, learning, values that come from our tradition rather than banging on the pulpit.

 

In writing sermons I hope people will agree with me. Even if not, you can still like me. I would like that. But I don't think of that question when I write sermons. I think of my feelings on the subject. I think about our Jewish treasure-house of wisdom. I think of whom we are and what we could do about the matter, or who we could become, or how we can contribute to society, to the Jewish people, to Israel. My scolding has been couched in my teaching and pointing a direction. I gave up "shreiking gevalt" because it was only a good exercise, maybe it let me vent, but didn't change anything, didn't make anybody change anything. Since teaching is the original calling of the Rabbi and not preaching, my style evolved into that form and format. I do watch an occasional Sunday church service on TV and note that my preaching is very distant from that of my colleagues in the African-American churches, as well as from the evangelical minister of any color.

 

But after sermons that have related to any controversial issue, people have never ceased to let me know their views, especially if they disagreed. I have never inhibited anyone from saying what was on their mind. I have missed many an oneg Shabbat or Kiddush because someone wanted to bend my ear. Maybe it will happen again tonight?

 

What I have always tried to do was to be accurate.

If I have accused, I did so on firm foundation.

If I didn't like something, I could support my reasoning.

I have been careful of what I have said because I knew that I could influence people to do or not do something. My words have consequences and repercussions.

 I review my words because I know that I can be quoted and while I know the game of 'telephone' at least I could control first transmission.

I have criticized the United States. It happens every day in the newspaper.

            But I do it responsibly.

I have been very careful about criticizing Israel, maybe not as much as I feel about a particular policy, because I feared that my comments could be lifted out of context and misconstrued and misused.

I have been careful, particularly careful of how I speak about Christians and Christianity, Muslims and Islam because that is what is proper by Jewish standards, and I wish them to speak respectfully about us and our faith. It is a dialogue, even when it is preaching. There is a respectful way to say the truth, as I see it. I can disagree with honor and dignity.

 

So tonight I have not banged on the lectern. I have not thundered against Reverend Jeremiah Wright. I have not infringed on our tax-exempt status concerning endorsing a political candidate. I can just say that the Reverend didn't write his sermons by my standards, if he wrote them at all. He didn't help his people by railing at other ethnic or religious groups. He didn't review his words for accuracy. And while they don't have Kiddush and oneg in church, Senator Obama could have found the time to personally and verbally disagree with his minister. I don't think that he had to leave his church. He didn't have to turn his back on his minister. But he could have argued with him. He could have made an appointment and met with him. That was a mistake. I can't reconcile swearing in as an official of this country, from the most local to the highest national level and not stand up to accusations against this country that are factually and historically wrong. I expect ministers, priests, rabbis to check their facts, even twice, before proclaiming it as the truth.

 

I acknowledge that each community is different.

                       Each community has its own needs.

                       Each community has its own agenda.

                        Each minister has his/her own style.

                        Each minister comes from his/her own background.

But every congregant/parishioner brings their full acumen to the pew.

                        Every listener brings their sense of right and wrong.

                        Every worshiper brings their knowledge to the service.

No one is excused.

No one gets a pass.

Not from one side of the lectern or the other.

 

We are a partnership of learners, of seekers, of those in search of God and His path.

Our task is to improve the world, make society better and make us better human beings,

while walking humbly with our God.

 

Shabbat Shalom.

 


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