Personal Freedom is Not What is Most Important in Judaism

And from the day on which you bring the sheaf of elevation offering- the day after the sabbath- you shall count off seven weeks.  They must be complete:  you must count until the day after the seventh week- fifty week- fifty days; then you shall bring an offering of new grain to the Lord.  (Lev. 23:15-16)

Perhaps you recognize that this passage about counting refers to counting the Omer, the period of days between the 2^nd day of Pesach and Shavuot.  When we’ve been gathering here remotely, we’ve been counting the Omer together.  When we finally get to Shavuot which falls on May 29^th and 30^th , we will take note of its connection to the anniversary of the giving of the Torah at Mount Sinai.  This counting is significant because it reminds us that the release from oppression we experienced was not complete until we acquired liberty at Sinai.  As Rabbi Jonathan Sacks wrote, “Freedom begins with the exodus but it reaches fulfillment in the acceptance of a code of conduct, the Torah, freely offered by G-d, freely accepted by the people.”

Judaism reflects deeply on freedom.  Personal freedom in Judaism is not what is most important at all.  Judaism recognizes first and foremost that we are social beings, who need one another, depend on one another.  Torah reminds us that force is not the best way to nurture cooperation.  Trust is a much stronger way to have an individual consider another’s interests in the same way that he/she considers his or her own interest.  For us Jews, trust is cemented in a brit, a covenant with G-d, a pledge taken to agree to a code of duties to each other and to G-d as the sovereign power in the Universe.  In the words of Rabbi Sacks, “What an extraordinary idea of freedom this is.  It depends, for its success not on power, but on moral obligation.  Needless to say it places a greater burden on the educated conscience than any other political system, and therefore requires unique institutions.  It needs constant education.  The people must know the law; they must hand it on to their children.”

The counting that refers back to those early years of our religious civilization found its culmination in the wilderness, a place of desolation and emptiness.  Yet, it became an emptiness filled with meaning once the Torah was given to us.  It was in the emptiness of the wilderness that we learned that freedom from tyranny was only the beginning.  Liberty depends on a “shared moral code, and on the education of new generations to internalize its values.” 

So of course,that leads me to thinking about our own particular situation of counting during this pandemic, counting our days of physical distancing, counting our days of staying home, and wondering how many more days will we need to change our patterns of living until the end is in sight.  It makes me interested in focusing on the thoughts that are going through our heads while experiencing the emptiness of our days.  It makes think about the issue of exercising our personal freedom vs our moral obligations to act for the greater good.   So many of the lessons of the Omer leading up to Shavuot actually appear to relate to our own experiences not just those of our ancestors 3000+ years ago.

As we’re counting days, for me the bigger question becomes, how do we make each day count?  When we emerge from this period of time, when the counting finally ends, how do we hope to envision ourselves, our community, our world?  Hopefully we are each using this period of time in our own “wilderness” as a fertile ground for growth and change.  Would anyone be willing to share how you hope to envision our community at the end of this period of time or how you are using this time for growth?`

Shabbat Shalom.