The Keter
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In my hand is a copy of the reconstructed Keter. The original, in the Israel Museum, is as close as one can get to the giving of Torah at Mount Sinai. I have asked our Haftorah readers to have this copy present as they chant the prophetic portions on the coming holidays.
Because, as I suggested, the story of the Keter has far greater significance than the fate of a single manuscript. Embedded in this story is the DNA of our people; it goes directly to the heart of what this evening, our people, and our faith are all about. The journey of our most sacred text coming at last to our ancient homeland after centuries of being passed from hand to hand, scribe to scribe, generation to generation – a sacred trust never forsaken. The Keter has survived the dispersion of our people, going from place to place, when we were challenged as minorities, often persecuted, in foreign lands. But in these lands also came opportunity. The creativity, leadership and scholarship of rabbis like Maimonides enabled our faith to transcend the vicissitudes of any one context. Our law, our ritual, our philosophy, our culture, our art took form in this two-thousand-year Diaspora, returning to Israel only in the middle of the last century.
But that return, we know, was not complete. Because like the Keter, we the Jewish people are missing a full third of who we are. If you want a population study that really hurts, think of six million Jews in America and another six million in Israel. To be Jewish today means to live with the searing awareness of what has been lost. Centers of learning, of culture, of business; people religious and secular, rich and poor, holy men and hucksters, old and young, and all their descendants – never to be. The hasidic master the Baal Shem Tov once taught that the Jewish people are like a Torah scroll in that if even one letter is missing, the kashrut of the entire scroll is in question. So what, I ask you, does it mean if a full 40% of our people and their descendants are missing from the project of Jewish life? These are heavy questions in my mind, questions we will confront in the days to come.
In all its ups and downs, its tragedies and fragmented remains, the Keter represents the indomitable spirit of the Jewish people. Because from the ashes it has found a home. Because on November 29, 1947, when the UN voted in the partition plan and Israel was declared a state the following year, thousands of years of diaspora existence came crashing to an end. Holding this book, I hear the words of the psalmist, Hazorim b’dimah, b’rinah yiktzoru, that which was sown in tears will be reaped with joy. This book is a survivor; it represents a triumph of the human will, a story of rebirth, a return to Zion – the modern, living, breathing miraculous modern State of Israel. The folio pages of diaspora Jewry, scattered around the world, must forever feel the gravitational tug of Jerusalem, and Jerusalem itself must be considered incomplete unless attached to the dispersed pages around the world.
There are many more lessons to be had, but the final image I offer is not about the Jewish people, but about the Jewish person – you. If there is one image associated with Rosh Hashanah, one constant graphic, visual image, it is that of a book. L’shanah tovah tikateivu we say to each other. “May you be inscribed in the book for a good year.” B’sefer hayyim b’rakhah v’shalom, we chant. “In the book of life for blessing and peace.” We return this evening from the sojourn of the year gone by, some pages blotted, some with mistakes and some missing. We run our fingers over the folio pages, gently peeling them apart, fixing the dog-eared corners. As in the Keter, we search for what is missing and we aspire to restore ourselves to our best, original and God-given condition. Tonight and in the days ahead, we are each people of the book – the books of our lives. We are the copy editors, the restorers, the interpreters and yes, tonight we are also the authors, ready to draft the next chapters. In the days ahead may we be up to the sacred task extended to us and may we all – each and every one of us – be inscribed in book of life for a year of health, happiness and peace.