Anthology honors 2 local rabbis’ High Holy Day words

Rabbi Stephen Pearce of San Francisco's Congregation Emanu-El spends about 15 to 20 hours preparing his High Holy Day sermons.

It shows. His sermon was selected by a panel of rabbis as one of the best High Holy Day sermons of 5759 in the book "Living Words."

Pearce, along with another area Reform rabbi, Richard Litvak of Temple Beth El in Aptos, were among 16 rabbis from across the nation whose inspiring words were chosen for publication. The 12-member selection panel included Rabbi Stuart Kelman, spiritual leader of the Conservative Congregation Netivot Shalom in Berkeley.

"I was really happy to be included," Litvak said. "There are lots of excellent and creative sermonizers in the rabbinate. I always try to learn what others have to offer and I'm glad to contribute to others."

Litvak's talk, titled "The Mezuzah: Something to Reach for Every Day," combines the meaning behind placing the Sh'ma inside the mezuzah with steps toward living a peaceful life.

Serenity is achieved, Litvak writes, by taking a step back from moments of anger or fear to "witness our thoughts and feelings. Removing ourselves from the situation can help us to transform confrontation to respectful communication."

Pearce's sermon, titled "What Happens If We Never Meet," combs Jewish history to find a series of internal conflicts that still plague contemporary religious life. He calls for "a buffer zone" between ardent spiritualists and entrenched secularists.

"If a buffer zone existed between two hard-line positions, then Jews would have a common ground, a meeting place where they could speak of their differences with civility and not with angst and argument," he writes.

Although cited for having written one of last year's best sermons, Pearce doesn't plan to bask in the honor or slack off in his future writing. There's no time, he said.

When a congregant asked him what he reads for pleasure, Pearce responded, "I never read for pleasure. I'm always reading with eye towards writing a sermon."

He added, "Even when the High Holy Days are over, I'm thinking of what to do next year. It's so high-profile an occasion and people are looking for something extraordinary."

Sermon-writing, however, is an art that seems to be fading, Pearce bemoaned. He hears of many rabbis who jot down their High Holy Day speeches in haste just days in advance. Some end up ad-libbing and drag through their speeches with enough repetition "to beat the topic to death."

Consequently, the power -- and the influence -- of the sermon has waned significantly in the last few decades, Pearce said.

The sermon "is not what it was in 1940, when someone like Rabbi Stephen Wise could fill the Town Hall in New York City to standing-room only."

Although the sermon remains the centerpiece of many congregations' services, Litvak said its diminished importance may be caused by the growing interest in "other mediums of education and inspiration, [such as] textual study."

Nonetheless, Litvak puts a high value on a great sermon. At its best, he said, it "inspires people to find connection between Judaism and real life."

Pearce agrees. "People come to services because [the sermon] is important to them. They want to be respected with a message that challenges them. We should respect that and not pass off something that's drivel."

At Emanu-El, where he is senior rabbi, Pearce hands out copies of his sermon on the High Holy Days so everyone can follow.

The best kind of sermon, he said, hooks people by the heart and convinces them to take action.

In one of Pearce's High Holy Day sermons, he called on the congregants to engage in more mitzvot. The audience listened and then acted.

They brainstormed and decided to start a small organic farm. Now, several congregants regularly tend nearly an acre of land in Emanu-El's cemetery plot in Colma and drop off fresh vegetables at a food bank.

"I'm always looking for something in a sermon that people can take away with them," Pearce said. "It's the greatest compliment to have someone quote something you said years ago from the pulpit."

Litvak also wants to spur people to change their lives. In one High Holy Day sermon, he spoke about reconciliation. At the end of the service, two people who had been at odds both personally and in business matters approached each other. They embraced.

"It was very satisfying to know that I had contributed to their reconciliation," Litvak said.