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Welcome to Kolot, the podcast of The Ark Synagogue, a bold, experiential and caring Progressive Jewish community in Northwood, London.
Through sermons, reflections and conversations from across our community, Kolot explores Jewish life, learning and values in the world we live in today. Rooted in tradition and open to new perspectives, these episodes bring together voices that inspire thought, connection and belonging.
Whether you are Jewish, exploring Judaism, or simply looking for meaningful reflection, you are warmly welcome.
To learn more about The Ark Synagogue, visit arksynagogue.org.
In the Mishnah (Pirkei Avot 4:13) we read:
Rabbi Shimon said: There are three crowns: the crown of Torah, the crown of priesthood, and the crown of royalty, but the crown of a good name supersedes them all.
And in this morning’s parashah (Numbers 3:12–13) we heard:
I hereby take the Levites from among the Israelites in place of all the male first-born, the first issue of the womb among the Israelites: the Levites shall be Mine.
For every such first-born is Mine: at the time that I smote every [male] first-born in the land of Egypt, I consecrated every first-born in Israel, human and animal, to Myself, to be Mine, God’s.
This is a section of Torah that is wonderfully progressive. From the universal notion of the importance of the firstborn in the first noted Israelite societies — the firstborn being devoted to God’s service — the Torah shifts to a tribe that was unsullied by the Golden Calf incident. As Rabbanit Alissa Thomas-Newborn notes:
In choosing the Levites, God makes a remarkable statement … It’s not inherited, but earned … God has rejected the primacy of the firstborns — a primacy that every society was built on. This is a countercultural value that the Torah brings to the moral stage of history. By shifting leadership from the firstborns because of their involvement in the sin of the golden calf, God communicates that leadership must be merited and cherished as a privilege — one that also can be lost.
Today, of course, our understanding continues to develop and every one of us has the opportunity to serve God. Our good standing is not due to fate, birth or heredity, but to our deeds.
This week I experienced two, I think complementary, thoughts. The first was provided by Matthew Gould, an Ark Synagogue member who went to Kadimah Summer School, and the first Jewish Ambassador to Israel, having also served in Manila, Islamabad and as acting Ambassador in Iran, amongst many other positions. Presented and interviewed by our own Rabbi Lea, he stated that there was little point chatting to well-meaning moderate people like we might consider ourselves. Rather, protagonists — people who want to effect change — need to engage in difficult conversations with those they fundamentally disagree with.
And on the Unholy podcast, the idea was explored that real engagement is not necessarily to agree or even to like another, but to hear and meet another human being who has hopes and dreams, who hurts and fears. Featured were Maoz Inon, whose parents were murdered on 7 October, and Aziz Abu Sarah, whose brother — the person who raised Aziz — was tortured in an Israeli prison and subsequently died during the First Intifada. Their friendship and optimism are encapsulated in the New York Times bestselling book, The Future is Peace.
The book has not been published in Arabic or Hebrew, but Inon and Abu Sarah are symbolic of a growing movement of those who refute antagonism in favour of relationship. They sit with one another’s narratives, experience and feel life together, acknowledging each other’s humanity and rights. Imagining the end of conflict, which Maoz is certain of, he merely asks how many will be killed before that time.
Complementary ways of thinking from those who seek to live life by their words and deeds.
These approaches share the very real desire to live in relationship with others, and the understanding that causing harm to others does not lead to reconciliation.
This week we will have found that being closed to others, flag-waving, is not a path to reconciliation. Yesterday was Yom Yerushalayim, Jerusalem Day, an official occasion to celebrate the reunification of Jerusalem after the Six Day War. The day has been hijacked by ultra-nationalists and the kind of messianic fervour held by other religions at other times in history has seen our People massacred, violated and pillaged. Now marked mainly by right-wing religious nationalists as the Flag March, it is a cover for, at best, the kinds of behaviour, rhetoric, abuse and damage that we hope today our British police and justice system will prosecute as hate crimes in marches organised by the far right and those purporting to be pro-Palestinian in London. There will be many flags waved, a lot of shouting and no listening to another voice.
The most enlightened warned against such a conflation of religious extremism and nationalism already in the aftermath of the Six Day War. In her article in Haaretz, Esther Solomon writes:
“It should be noted that the narrative was never entirely consensual; there were already voices warning against being drunk with the ‘sweet intoxication of victory’, as Amos Elon wrote in Haaretz in June 1967. In an open letter a couple of months later, the far-left Matzpen group wrote that ‘Our right to defend ourselves against annihilation does not grant us the right to oppress others.’ Yeshayahu Leibowitz led the wider charge against ‘the conversion of the religion of Israel into a cover for Israeli nationalism.’”
So what is a Progressive Jewish approach to Yom Yerushalayim? Anna Kislanski, the CEO of our sister movement, the Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism (IMPJ), wrote:
“Today, we joined the Flower March through the streets of Jerusalem, and next week we will participate in the Interfaith March alongside fellow civil society organisations. Together with MARAM, the Council of Reform Rabbis in Israel, we also published a Jerusalem Day statement reflecting on the kind of Jerusalem we continue to work toward: one grounded in compassion, shared society, freedom of religion, and peace.”
One of the barriers to progression identified on the Unholy podcast episode was the concern that opportunities for Arabs and Jews, Israelis and Palestinians, and those from other backgrounds to mix were diminishing. One has to work hard to meet someone of a different identity, including intra-denominationally. This is so true of Israeli society and our own in the UK, where communities are increasingly ghettoised, emphasising the echo chamber of particular thought.
This Shabbat I offer two ways for you to engage with other people.
Tomorrow, Sunday 17 May, at 3 pm, join me and the Watford Interfaith Network at the Watford Peace Garden in Cassiobury Park for a vigil they have titled In Solidarity with the Jewish Community. This is a way to engage with a local interfaith community, a gateway into a wider range of community.
And financially, we invite you to support our twin congregation, Brit Olam in Israel, in their primary outreach work to the wider community. It may sound mundane, but beautifying their synagogue is no mean feat, as they are not supported by membership in the same way as we are in the UK. We have match funding to double your donation and enable the values of Progressive Judaism to be amplified. You can make a general donation by tapping our card reader today or, preferably, via our website.
Today we bring together congregants from different backgrounds, all celebrating life, identity and a sense of belonging in community. May we find the strength to bring ourselves to others and allow others into our lives.
Machar Chodesh — that tomorrow is a new moon — offers an opportunity for prayer for new beginnings, or at least a moment for small incremental changes towards getting to know each other again.
The Haftarah for Machar Chodesh (when the new moon falls on the following day) is 1 Samuel 20:18–42. Cantor Sarah Grabiner, in Prophetic Voices: Renewing and Reimagining Haftarah (ed. Rabbi Barbara Symons, CCAR Press, 2023), writes:
At first glance, there is one obvious reason to read this Haftarah the day before a new moon; it states, “tomorrow will be the new moon” …
However, with this opportunity to contemplate the lunar cycle and this biblical selection, what might we learn?
We begin in the midst of the beautiful and tumultuous tale of David and Jonathan. The text tells of how David will not appear at the next day’s feast. If we look up on this Shabbat, before the first sliver of the new moon, we see the darkest expanse. While David is missing from the table, the moon is absent from the sky.
We are aware of that which is lacking in our lives; that which is hidden in the darkness — relationships, opportunities and reconciliations. The new moon comes and goes, and David, the symbol of the messianic age of perfection and redemption, is still missing.
How much imperfection still fills the world in which we live?
By the end, Jonathan and David embrace in love. Whether we read this as a romance or as the love of loyal, devoted friends, the dark night before the new moon is brightened by the hope of an unlikely, precious relationship. Let us find new light waxing in this special Shabbat before Rosh Chodesh.
May we find our name known for good, our good standing not due to fate, birth or heredity, but to our deeds.