Why Voting Matters - Rosh Hashanah Day 2 Sermon

For a moment, I want you to put yourself in the place of God. You have just freed the Jewish people from Egypt and they have begun wandering in the desert, only a short while into their forty-year journey from the shores of Egyptian slavery to the banks of the promised land. You have just given a command that you want them to build you a home for you, a Divine palace, called the Tabernacle, or Mishkan in Hebrew, where you will visit with your people, accepting their sacrifices and hearing their prayers. It will be your dwelling place on earth, a place where the transcendent can become imminent.  

So who will build this wonderous Tabernacle? 

According to our ancient Rabbis, before God appoints someone, God asks Moses for advice: 

“I’ve found a man” God says, “an artistan, who is wise, skilled, and has a heart open to teaching others. His name is Betzalel. Should I choose him as the architect the Mishkan?” 

Moses is surprised by God’s question. Who is he that God should ask him? “Ruler of the Universe” Moses answers, “if he’s worthy before you, then how could he not be worthy before me.” 

God pauses and then answers Moses. “Even so, why don’t we ask [ask the people first]. They will help us decide” (Talmud, Berachot 55a).  

From this story, our Rabbis spun a lesson, a leader cannot be chosen until first, the community is consulted. 

The message of the story is profound: even God, who knows in all God’s divine omniscience who should build the Mishkan, knows that a leader only matters if he or she has been ordained by the people they lead. God’s choice matters less than ours. 

I can’t help but think about the power of this story at this time of year, standing only a few short weeks from perhaps the most consequential election of my lifetime. In November, we will travel to the voting booth, emboldened by our ethical ideals and sense of purpose.  

Over the course of time, I’ve come to understand the many reasons to vote. Voting matters. For as much advocacy as each of us do, for as many town halls, protests, organizing meetings we attend, no action can make up for having an unsympathetic ear sitting across the table from us.  

Yet, I have a confession to make. I didn’t vote until I was well into my twenties. I turned 18 while at Tufts University, and as a college Freshman, I couldn’t get may act together to request an absentee ballot from Rhode Island. When I realized I missed the deadline, I decided it wasn’t worth driving home. Two years later, I got the chance to choose whether to re-elect George Bush or choose John Kerry. I watched every debate that year, but never cast my vote, even while having strong preferences for who to choose. 

For years I floated around, paying attention to electoral politics without adding my voice. It wasn’t my parent’s fault. I have fond memories of going to vote with them after work. We would stand on long lines together and I would walk in astonished that my transformed elementary school cafeteria was so full of people I didn’t know. It took me until I was 24, with the candidacy of Barak Obama to finally galvanize me enough to cast my ballot. 

Today, I vote in every election possible. I vote as much for local politicians as I do for the bigger profile national races. True the presidency matters, but so does the Essex Country freeholders, who can decide the future of our county jail system and the school board who can decide on what funds are used to help children and families with special needs. But when I think back to those years without civic engagement I’m somewhat embarrassed, and frankly a little baffled. 

But I know I’m not alone. 

In the last presidential election, roughly 43 percent eligible voters stayed home, not casting a ballot of any sort.1 For young people this number skyrocketed. 68 percent of eligible 18-25 year-olds sat out the election. Other groups also struggled below the national average. I don’t need to give all the numbers, but it’s clear that black and latinx voters, less educated voters, and poorer voters are much less likely to cast a ballot.  

There are many reasons for these numbers. For some, voting is not as easy as it should be. Some states disenfranchise voters with difficult ID laws. Employers don’t give breaks for workers to find the time to vote. Early voting, though growing in popularity is still not the norm. There are places in this country where voter intimidation is tolerated and where voters are routinely purged from the roles. Some locals have reduced the number of polling places leading to oppressively long lines, and aging voting infrastructure means that voting machines will break down and malfunction.  

This year, with vote by mail in many states, these systemic issues will only be brought more to the forefront, especially with cuts to the postal service and the political firestorm surrounding it. 

We like to emphasize these systemic failures because they give us a clear answer and a clear opponent. And they are a problem.   But for as many people who want to vote and can’t there are just as many, if not more, who don’t care enough to try or to push through that first obsticle. They might believe their vote doesn’t matter. They might not have found the “perfect” candidate. They might have had too many elections go the other way and feel that if they don’t engage, they won’t be disappointed. They might be so burnt out from trying to stay afloat in this world that they lack the bandwidth to do anything else, even to vote. 

But as we have seen, Judaism advocates strongly for civic engagement and sitting out an election is not an option. Someone’s failure to vote, whether due to their own will or the will of another is all of our problems. 

Take Jeremiah for example, in the midst of Babylonia exile he implored his community to put down roots, telling them to “seek the welfare of the city to which I have exiled you and pray to God in its behalf; for in its prosperity you shall prosper” (Jeremiah 29: 4-7). A millennium later Hillel famously warned that we should "not separate [ourselves] from the community” (Mishnah Pirkei Avot 2:4).  

But any “what,” needs a “why” to bolster it. Asking our peers to vote is not enough. We have to state the case for why they should. Any get out of the vote campaign, needs to explain why voting matters. It will not only help with the apathy and disillusionment that is keeping people from the polls, but it will bolster those of us who seek to change the systems of disenfranchisement that keep enthusiastic voters from participating.  

Since today is the second day of Rosh Hashanah and we usually have a discussion in leu of a sermon, I wanted to capture that spirit. In a few moments, hear from some members of our community why they vote and then, I’ll answer the question with my own thoughts, colored by my sense that Judaism wants me to engage. 

{INSERT VIDEOS OF CONGREGANTS} 

When I enter the voting booth, I enter with all my diverse identities. I vote as a father, for the future I want Lev and Amalia to grow up in. I vote as a son, hoping for a government that is compassionate to the needs of my grandparents and parents as they grow older. I vote as a neighbor, knowing that I must be an ally to those I pass on the street and I must take them into account as I vote.  

But I also vote as a Jew.  

I vote because I know what it means to be a minority, having seen governments good and bad for my people.  

I vote because as a student of history, I know how hard our ancestors fought for their first opportunity to vote, only a few hundred years ago in Napolonic France, and what citizenship meant to them.  

I vote because Jewish values don’t stop at the walls of our synagogue and that governments have similar obligations as individuals, to care for the other and make this world a little better. 

I vote because I agree with the Rabbi Chanina, the Deputy High Priest of old who says: Pray for the welfare of the government, for were it not for the fear of it, man would swallow his fellow alive. (Avot 3:2). And as a voter, I have the power to help decide the best approach to how we keep that order. 

I vote because I agree with our sages who say that our discourse should be “for the sake of heaven.” Politics should better us and bring us toward a brighter future, and there is no discourse more consequential and important than voting (Shulchan Aruch, Choshen Mishpat 163:1). 

Every one of us has the power to influence those who do not vote. If you are inspired, you can join our “get out the vote” committee, headed by our Past President, Ken Cohen.  

But more than anything, every one of us needs to be tireless advocates for voting. If you see a systematic problem that is keeping people from the polls, speak out. If you talk to someone who is wavering on adding their voice, remind them why it matters. Studies have shown that people vote because they see people they trust do the same. Don’t be shy about talking about it. This year, of all year, with so many hurdles, we all need to be reminded we should bother to jump them. 

It once happened that man who came before the Chazon Ish, one of the great legal authorities of the past century to explain that he didn’t have enough money to pay his taxes; therefore, he would not be allowed to vote in an upcoming election. Hearing the man’s dilemma, the Chazon Ish responded: “You should sell your tefillin [phylacteries], the holiest personal religious item we have and pay the taxes… tefillin, you can borrow from another, but the right to vote you cannot get from someone else.” 

Your opinion matters and every so often, we are blessed to be asked for it. Let’s make sure every single person gets to answer.