Welcome, dear friends! It is such a blessing to be together on this very special occasion, a celebration nearly a century in the making. Today we complete one chapter of our congregational story, begin a new one, and sanctify the time and space in between.
As we do, we acknowledge with love and reverence our ancestors, who founded our kehillah kedoshah, our holy congregation, and who built this beit el, this House of God, as a space for them and their posterity – all of us – to cultivate community, to learn Torah, and to serve God and humanity.
And we also acknowledge that the place upon which this Temple now stands is the homeland of the Powhatan people, who lived here for thousands of years before, during, and since the European colonization and conquest; and that this land, which was bought or taken from the Powhatan people, was also subsequently cultivated by enslaved people from Africa and their descendants, who remain uncompensated for generations of subjugation.
Remaining true to our purpose as a people who was ourselves once enslaved, who remain frequently persecuted, and who are called to build a loving and just world, we affirm today both the cracks in our foundation, as well the magnificent edifice our ancestors built upon it, for which we and our descendants are charged to care and cultivate.
We gather today to celebrate our present, envision our future, and reflect on our past.
This past year alone has been, to say the least, an eventful one for our congregation, our community, and our world – at turns extraordinary, tumultuous, and emotionally and spiritually challenging to navigate. Yet for me, an unbridled bright spot has been our Prophets Reading Group, a book club of sorts in which we read and discuss the books of the biblical prophets. The conversations have been deep and enriching, and it has provided us wonderful opportunities to engage with some of the most powerful teachings of our tradition – including books and texts many of us had never before encountered, or at least didn’t know well.
One such book was Zechariah. Considered one of the minor prophets, Zechariah prophesied in the late 6th century BCE. About half a century before Zechariah came onto the scene, the Babylonian empire had conquered the kingdom of Judah, laid waste to Jerusalem, destroyed the Temple, and deported the Jewish survivors to Babylon. However, in 539 BCE, the Persian emperor Cyrus overtook the Babylonians; and the next year – miraculously, some might say – he did something that just two generations prior would have seemed utterly unthinkable: he issued a decree permitting the Jewish exiles to return to Jerusalem and rebuild the Temple. Zechariah was among those who led this restoration of Zion, and his prophecies are particularly focused on championing the project of rebuilding the Temple.
In this respect, there is much in Zechariah that parallels our own recent history at Temple Beth-El, and therefore also that might serve as instructive for this moment and beyond. Well before we formally began this project, many of us knew that we needed to redevelop our nearly century-old facilities – which had not undergone any significant renovations in many decades – to match the vision, and meet the changing needs, of a purpose-driven, dynamic, 21st century congregation. Needless to say, there were many obstacles to overcome, and a great deal of hard and sometimes frustrating work involved, in moving this project from dream to reality. Many of us worried whether we would be able to raise the money; or whether too much, or not enough, would change.
Similarly, Zechariah describes the challenges that were faced by those who returned to Zion, particularly with respect to rebuilding the Jerusalem Temple -- from financial constraints to periods of hostility from Persian officials. It turns out that when the Babylonians destroyed the Temple, they really left a mess. Just clearing the site of debris and feral wildlife was a daunting task. Consequently, as time went by, and the construction lagged, the people grew pessimistic about their capacity to successfully complete the work, which threatened to derail the project altogether.
How did Zechariah respond to these concerns? We might have expected him to leap into fundraising mode, launching a major pledge drive, or perhaps go door to door to secure the necessary resources. Or he could have gone into project management mode, tracking down the best prices and most capable contractors. In other words, he could have focused on addressing the physicality, the mechanics, of the project.
Instead, Zechariah responded in a surprising yet profound way, declaring “lo v’hayyil, v’lo v’khoah, ki im b’ruhi – amar Adonai Tzeva’ot / Not by might, and not by power, but by My spirit, said the Infinite.” This is perhaps the most famous line in Zechariah’s entire book. And it is a prominent part of our Zechariah stained glass window, just to my left, where you can clearly see the Hebrew word “b’ruhi / by My spirit,” emblazoned in gold letters. Given where I sit and stand on the bimah, I have spent more time looking at this Zechariah window over these past 10 years than any of our others. Yet even I have puzzled over what Zechariah meant, and why this was the message he delivered.
Most interpreters understand Zechariah to mean that physical effort alone would be insufficient to complete the project of rebuilding the Temple. While he doesn’t deny the importance of material considerations, he emphasizes the necessity of cultivating a certain spiritual orientation to motivate, direct, and sustain the work.
The folks most involved in leading our Building for the Next 90 project – Benita, Mike, Frances, as well as myself and our staff – intuited the prophet’s message: We knew from the get-go that, in order to move the the congregation beyond stasis and resignation, we had to compellingly and continuously articulate the what and why of the vision, and persuasively and persistently offer a sense of confidence and hopefulness that attaining that vision was within our reach. In other words, completing this project wasn’t just a technical task, but also, importantly, a spiritual one. Might and power was of course necessary in order to solve construction challenges, but it was ultimately not enough to get us to the finish line. We also had to draw upon the spirit of perseverance and resilience; fortitude and courage; passion, patience, and faith.
Yet the spirit required for a project like this has another important dimension. Biblical scholar Michael Fishbane argues that, in using the term ruhi, God’s spirit, Zechariah was likely referencing the words of an earlier and better known prophet, Isaiah. We can therefore best understand what Zechariah meant by looking at the way his predecessor used the phrase.
In chapter 11 of Isaiah, the prophet defines “ruah Adonai / the spirit of the Infinite” (11:2) as that which results in perfect justice – a world free from want, discrimination, and oppression, where all are honored as equals, resources are distributed fairly, and judgment is perfect. Moreover, according to Isaiah, the same divine spirit that leads to social justice will, in turn, result in social harmony. The prophet’s vision is actually depicted in the First Isaiah window, just to my right – a peaceful world, rooted in equity, where “the wolf will dwell with the lamb” (11:6). To live by God’s spirit, then, means to pursue justice; and by pursuing justice, we repair the world.
Later in his book, Zechariah echoes this message for his contemporaries, proclaiming that, ultimately, what will make the project of rebuilding the Temple succeed is if it is animated by, and contributes to, a passion for pursuing a just society. After all, he reminded them, the Temple was destroyed in the first place because the people had defied God’s repeated calls to champion the cause of the poor and the oppressed, to build a society rooted in human dignity and strengthened through justice (7:8-14).
Zechariah warns his people not to make the same mistake their ancestors did, causing, in his words, “a delightful land to be turned into a desolation” by failing to pursue a just society (7:14). This time around, Zechariah proclaims, take care to “adjudicate true justice; deal lovingly and compassionately with one another. Do not oppress the widow, the orphan, the stranger, or the poor.” Think only of helping – commit to caring for – one another. “Not by might, and not by power, but by My spirit” – the Temple cannot be built, and will not endure, unless the work is rooted in and leads to a commitment to justice.
Just like Zechariah’s audience, we have mustered the strength and power to build this building. It wasn’t easy, and we overcame the odds, and many obstacles, to accomplish it. We are right to be proud of what we have done, to thank those who worked tirelessly to help us realize our dreams, and to celebrate this magnificent milestone.
But what Zechariah also reminds us is that this isn’t the full picture of success. The construction isn’t fully done. We must also think about the spirit of what this building represents, the deeper purpose for why we built it. For this project to be truly successful, we must take care to think about more than merely how we fundraise, house ourselves, and maintain a building.
Never forget that our ancestors who originally built this sanctuary decorated it with an extraordinary series of stained glass windows depicting imagery and ideas from the prophets. Through them, our ancestors were reminding us, their descendants, that time spent in our sanctuary is meant to be a foundation for what we must do outside of it: caring for those in need, advancing justice, and repairing the world.
And we best honor that legacy by embracing the same spirit:
As we worked relentlessly to build this house for our congregation, we must work just as relentlessly to house the homeless in our community.
As we worked tirelessly to raise the funds for this building, we must work just as tirelessly to raise up those brought low by oppressive inequities.
As we work unceasingly to sustain this structure, we must work just as unceasingly to dismantle our society’s structural injustices.
If we embrace this spirit, and live into this calling, we will help bring about the day when “the wolf will dwell with the lamb,” when “the leopard will lie down with the kid; the calf, the beast of prey, and the fatling together, with a child to herd them”; that great day when “justice will flow like water, and righteousness like an unfailing stream” (Amos 5:24), when “nation will not take up sword against nation, and they will never again know war” (Isaiah 2:4).
So may it be God’s will. Amen.
Temple Beth-El
Richmond, VA
May 19, 2024
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