Temple Emanu-El

Sermon: Jews In Sports
Rabbi Jonathan Miller
Temple Emanu-El
Birmingham, Alabama
July 27, 2007, Parashat Vetchanan Shabbat Nahamu

I never realized who prescient I am. If only I could work such magic on the stock market or in purchasing lottery tickets, I would be a billionaire. When confronted by the priest of Bethel (not the synagogue up the street but the altar in ancient Israel), Amos said to Amaziah, "I am not a prophet or the son of a prophet, I am a sheep herder and a tender of sycamore figs." He really was a prophet and he continued by saying, "but the Lord took me away from following the flock, and the Lord said to me, 'Go, prophesy to My people Israel. . . ." So I am not a prophet or the son of a prophet. I am just a small town rabbi trying to keep my head above water. Now why do I share with you about my powers of clairvoyance?

It is because I announced the topic of sermon, well in advance, "Jews in Sports" (Cantor said, "Yippie, this will be a short sermon!") not realizing that during these lazy days of July that all the world would be abuzz over sports stories. Barry Bonds, the steriodial home run hitter is poised to break Hank Aarons all time home run record of 755 home runs. The Tour de France is throwing out its bike riders left and right, and sending them off the circuit and perhaps to jail for doping on the sly. Tim Donaghy, the notorious NBA referee, is being investigated for fixing games to conform to the bets he placed on professional basketball games. And dear Michael Vick from the Atlanta Falcons doesn't get enough opportunity to settle his testosterone on the football field avoiding 350 pound defensive line behemoths and 280 pound linebackers who want to deck him every time he stands behind his center. He needs to raise and breed dogs that fight and kill each other as a form of entertainment and to earn a few bucks for spending money.

And little did I know that the Commissioner of the NBA, a lawyer named David Stern, is Jewish. Oy does he have tsuris! And little did I know that Atlanta Falcon owner Arthur Blank is Jewish. Oy, my head hurts just thinking about him. Sports is not a place for a nice Jewish boy. It is rough and tumble out there. We should be in more sheltered and gentle vocations, like politics, finance and the rabbinate, where one is loved and admired each and every day (just ask Scooter Libby and Michael Milken).

But tonight's subject is "Jews in Sports". I could talk tonight about Red Aurbach, Rod Carew, Hank Greenberg, (from our own congregation Sam Tenenbaum-aka the Great Kaiser and South Eastern Conference Commissioner Mike Slive,) and of course Sandy Koufax, who refused to pitch for the Los Angeles Dodgers during the World Series on Yom Kippur, and who is reportedly a fifth cousin to my wife, and a sixth cousin to my children. We never invited him here to join us for the Bar Mitzvahs. I could talk about Olympic Swimmer Mark Spitz, my former temple member from Los Angeles, or Mel Allen from the Yankees, or Sarah Hughes, the Olympic Gold Medal figure skater. I could also mention Jack the Kid Berg, the English world champion junior welterweight boxer--Hall of Famer, who wore a Star of David on his trunks; Anna Sipos, the 21 time Hungarian Table Tennis champion; or Leonid Zhabotinsky, the Soviet heavyweigth two time olympic and world championship weight lifter. You know of them all, of course. And that is what you would expect of me. Even though I am going to talk tonight about Jews in sports, I am not going to mention David Stern or Arthur Blank or Mark Spitz or Sandy Koufax or Jack the Kid Berg or Leonid Zhabotinsky. Instead I want to talk about our kids, Sam and Emily and Rebecca and Daniel and Aaron and Jennifer. I want to talk about the inordinate significance that sports seems to play for our young kids and their parents.

We had an interesting discussion on one of my rabbinic listserves. A colleague of mine was bemoaning the fact that so many of her kids are dropping out of religious school or missing Shabbat services or programming because of children's sports programs.
Soccer, little league, basketball and football, are the main culprits. But there is also swimming and lacrosse and dance team and fencing and cheerleading and gymnastics and cross-country and wrestling and track and golf and biking and tennis and hockey and crew and karate to compete against Jewish activities for the young folks and their families. And there are high school teams for both boys and girls, and recreation leagues and travel teams and all-star teams. And each one of these teams has a coach who is paid or volunteers his or her precious time. And darn it, if the coach is going to be there, he or she is going to insist that the kids will be there. And the kids who don't show up will be booted from the team or will have an inordinate amount of on-the-bench time.
And so the kids say to the parents how important the sports are, and the parents say "Yes indeed, this is very important", and the kids drop away from the Temple's social, religious and educational programs.

(By the way, the same phenomenon is happening in the non-Jewish world. Christian and Muslim kids are also on all these teams, and have the same coaches and the same buy in from the parents. And that is the reason that the kids don't go to church nearly as much, or why there are church leagues, or Christian athletic associations-because they are going to where the kids are because the kids aren't coming so much to them.
And there sure are a heck of a lot more of them than there are of us, so usually the games are not scheduled during Church time.)

Anyway, the rabbi in the posting gave the skewed perspective on life that only a rabbi can give. Trust me, friends, the rabbi's perspective is the only true perspective. The rabbi looks back from behind the coffin and sums up a person's life as he or she lived it and how the person is remembered by loved ones and the community at large. And this rabbi said, "I almost never speak about the deceased's athletic accomplishments. I never say, 'This man was once a second string wide receiver on the JV team in the tenth grade.' Instead, I always speak about the person's faith, learning, and contributions to his family, the Jewish community and Jewish values." So folks, it appears that we as a society are not raising our children with the end in mind.

So I began to think. What is going on in our culture that has elevated childrens' athletic activities to its now sacrosanct status? Surely things have changed since I was a kid, when we would go outside, play games of touch football or stickball in the schoolyard. And nobody but the truly athletically gifted boys would play in anything beyond the weekend little league. I have thought through four reasons for this shift in attitude over the past 40 years.

Working moms. Two thirds of moms work full time outside the home, and some need to work two jobs to make ends meet. The idea of Mrs. Cleaver being home to meet Beaver after school doesn't jibe with the way people live today. Moms and dads need to have a safe place for the kids to be. Hanging out in the neighborhood, without the watchful eye of parents, can lead to trouble. Get the kid playing sports. At least it is safe.

The atomization of neighborhoods. Most people don't know their neighbors nearly as much as we used to when we grew up. Sheriff Andy Taylor of Mayberry would let his son Opie run around Mayberry without a worry.
They lived in a community. Today, community is much harder to find. People lead atomized lives. We create virtual communities on the internet of people who have never met each other. But children and their parents find their ready sense of community on the team or in the stands. And without teams, community can be a little hard to find.

There is an increasing competitiveness in our zero-sum society. We are made of winners and losers and its not good to be a loser. And we compete and compete and compete all the way up the ladder until someone on top of us knocks us off. The competition to be in the top rung of whatever it is, to be accepted into the big name top 10 US News and World report university so you can land the job with the work your tail off law firm or accounting firm or medical fellowship or private equity group is intense. And we see that the ability to compete on the athletic field will give our children a leg up in being competitive. And only people who win are happy. (As a rabbi, I can attest to you that winning and happiness do not always go hand in hand.)

The all important question: We have begun to teach ourselves to define others and ourselves in terms of what we do. "So tell me about your son or your daughter. He is a forward left wing soccer player.
She is a cheerleader. He is a straight A student.
She is point guard on the basketball team. He pole vaults. She throws the javelin." I don't really care about these accomplishments. I want instead to hear, "He is kind. She is nice. He works hard and has friends. She takes care of poor people. He is spiritual. She is loving. Isn't this the way that God sees us, and isn't this the way that we see the people we love and the people who matter. We are not what we do. We are who we are, and that is plenty enough.

And the only place where "who you are" matters more than "what you do" is the synagogue or the church or the mosque or the temple.

This week's Torah portion shares some familiar
instruction: You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your might. Take to heart these instructions with which I charge you this day. Teach them to your children.
Recite them when you stay at home and when you are away, when you lie down and when you rise up.

The Torah says nothing about kicking a ball or swinging a club or shooting a basket, as fun as these activities are, to be the measure of one's worth.
Instead it speaks to us of our ability to listen to God and observe His commandments. At the end of the day, that will be the true measure of our joy.
Remember the end, and how we hope to be remembered by those left behind, and let's live a little more towards that goal.

Shabbat Shalom

Jonathan Miller

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