Here is my sermon for tonight, at Congregation Beth Aaron in Billings, MT
Parshat Va’Yeira
Destruction.
Bravery
Questioning.
Daring.
Suspense.
Victory.
Any number of things could be characterized by these 5 adjectives. In particular, a story human destruction. Or a story of about war.
Destruction. Parshat Va’yeira is a patch-work quilters dream. It includes many patches, each flimsily sown together through description and people, with Abraham as the common thread throughout. One of these patches is the story of Sodom and (G)Amorah. God decides that the people of Sodom and (G)Amorah are evil beyond redemption, and so plans to kill all of them. God shares God’s plan with Abraham, who asks God to save the people, if Abraham can find 10 righteous people within the cities. Abraham cannot, so God follows through on God’s plan, killings all inhabitants of these two cities (save for Lot and his family). The cities are left smoking, which Abraham glimpses from a distance. Destruction like the biblical world had never seen before.
Bravery. I imagine this conversation between an officer and his troops. “Men, we head out at 0500 hours. Prepare yourselves to fight for your lives, to face scenes of despair, death and destruction such that you have never encountered before. Prepare to know that you might die. Prepare to fight Germany.” So might end the training exercises on 5 June 1944, the night before D-Day, in Normandy, France.
I imagine that night, men writing letters to their wives, their girlfriends, their parents. “I love you,” they wrote. “More than anything else I can say, I love you. Do not forget me. I might die tomorrow. I’m scared. But I love you.” How many letters that resemble this were found or sent to families after the fact, physical souvenirs of a deadly day.
D-Day was not an incredibly deadly landing operation, relatively speaking. But it was an invasion of power, of unity. It demonstrated the bravery of American soldiers, fighting overseas, many in their first war ever. Most importantly, it demonstrated strength and power. Especially the power of the survivors. The Veterans.
My question for us this evening is: how are these two stories connected?
Questioning. God begins by thinking to God’s self, not knowing if God needs to share God’s plans with Abraham (Gen 18:17). If God acts independently, destroying the people of Sodom and (G)Amorah without first engaging Abraham, are there any consequences (God recognizes that Abraham is becoming God’s partner and so God has to bring Abraham into the dialogue.)
Each and every officer has the same inner-dialogue, questioning whether or not the soldiers need to know what they are about to do, what they are about to encounter. Few soldiers knew the details of their mission on D-Day. Not until they were on the boats, about to land in Normandy, France, did they begin to understand. Even then, the officers only told the soldiers what they needed to know. The soldiers, in this case, are Abraham, while the officers are God. The officers don’t want to elicit push-back, they don’t want to intimidate or frighten the soldiers. The war needed to occur. There wasn’t time for discussion.
Daring. Once God tells Abraham the plan, as they look over into Sodom and (G)Amorah, Abraham begins to question. He says to God, “Hey God. I’ve got a problem with all this destruction. You say you want to destroy these two cities, but what’s the point? How can you do this? And besides, the people can’t be that bad, can they?”
God replies to him: “Abraham, my son, you haven’t seen as much as I have. These people have committed heavy sins and they must be punished.”
“But, God,” Abraham challenges. “How can you destroy the righteous, just people with these evil-doers? The good people didn’t do anything wrong! How can you, God, the Judge of the earth, not judge each person justly? You should save the righteous people.” (Gen 18:23, 25)
From there, God and Abraham negotiate, finally agreeing that if Abraham can find 10 righteous people in Sodom and (G)Amorah, God will not destroy the cities. Alas, these ten people cannot be found and so God destroys the cities, burning them to the ground. From here, we look forward to our soldiers, sitting in their boats on the shores of Normandy, knowing they are about to head into battle. Were our soldiers to be like Abraham, they would counter their officers’ instructions. The cacophony of “But wait, I can’t kill innocent people who get in my way?” “How long are we going to be fighting for?” and the small, voices whispering, “I’m scared” would rise up to a high crescendo. Instead, the boat turned silent after the officers’ commands. These soldiers are instilled with an understanding that when given a direct order, they must follow through on it, no questions asked.
Victory. Abraham fights back. Our soldiers were quietly accepting, even though their inner-dialogue might have been similar to Abraham’s. Each reaction is acceptable, especially given their circumstances. Both Abraham and the soldiers need to remember a quote from our tradition that reads, במקום שאין אנשים השתדל להיות איש (m. Avot 2:5). This means, in a place where there are no [righteous] people, rise up and attempt to be a [righteous] person. Abraham cannot give up on the values that God has attempted to instill in him up to this point. God wants Abraham to be a partner, which cannot occur unless God allows Abraham to actively voice opposition. Abraham has to be the righteous person that cannot be found in Sodom or (G)Amorah. He must stand up for what he believes in.
Our American war heroes, the people we will celebrate on November 11th, for Veteran’s Day, also demonstrate this Jewish aphorism. Our soldiers sit in the boats, about to land on the shores of Normandy; young men, unsure what they will meet once they step onto the sand. They are good people, determined to fight for their country. These soldiers, our soldiers, were willing to be the good people, the righteous ones. Even more so, they were drafted, yet they still fought valiantly and courageously. They are the ones who chose to fight for their country. Not just on D-Day, but throughout most of American history, the military has been a key method of displaying patriotism. That means our American war heroes are these righteous people, patriotic individuals actively supporting their home beliefs, even when others were unwilling to do so. They are the ones who choose to fight for their rights, who choose to uphold American values from their core.
Our soldiers are determined to be good people, attempting to bring peace to America and the American people, regardless of the stakes. Even more so, they fight with strength and pride, no matter their personal beliefs in the matter. In fact, our soldiers in their boats must have put aside their beliefs and come together as a collective, American troop. They strive to be those righteous people, to protect their country, to represent their country. They demonstrate another way to be righteous, by not pushing back, but by listening. By upholding a collective belief.
Abraham actively talked back to God. He contended with God and told God that he wanted to save the people. Our soldiers actively fought for their country, for America, while holding their tongues. My purpose is not to say who is correct in their actions: Abraham or the soldiers. Rather, I would like to suggest that both acted appropriately for their given circumstances. But I praise the soldiers today, for fighting for their country. They put their lives on the line and were willing to engage in battle, either on the front lines or as supporting individuals. There was a sacrifice here. They demonstrated a courage and bravery of a different sort from Abraham. There were high stakes and these individuals still went ahead and did their civic duty. These are our American heroes to whom we look up to today. These are the people we honor everyday, but especially on November 11, on Veteran’s Day.
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