(RNS) — Senator Joseph Lieberman has died at the age of 82. He served four terms in the Senate and was Al Gore’s running mate in his unsuccessful 2000 campaign for the presidency — the first Jewish candidate on the ticket of a major political party. The decision about his candidacy occurred within a few weeks of Rosh Hashanah, and, of course, I preached about it.
Therefore, an abridged version of that sermon.
I will always remember where I was when I heard Al Gore had chosen Senator Joseph Lieberman to be his vice-presidential candidate. I had just ridden my bike, and it was a hot day, and I was sweating profusely. Despite the heat, I remember the chill that went through me.
Many years ago, Yogi Berra heard that the Lord Mayor of Dublin, Robert Briscoe, was a Jew. His response was classic Yogi: “Only in America!”
Our past 60 days of unfettered delight could only have happened in America, and only now, in a maturing America. Who would have imagined it? A Jewish vice presidential candidate! Did we ever really expect to see this? In our wildest collective imaginations, did we ever expect to see thousands of people in a national arena chanting “Hadassah! Hadassah!” (Joe Lieberman’s wife) — and it was not at a Hadassah convention.
More than 60 years ago, the humorist Wallace Markfield said: “The time is coming when the wearing of a yarmulke and tallis will no longer be an impediment to the White House. Unless, of course, if the person wearing them happens to be Jewish.”
Joseph Lieberman proves that quip to be wrong. He is the first Jew to ascend to the heights of national power, in any Western country, who has not had to deny his Judaism.
In England, the father of Benjamin Disraeli had him baptized on his 13th birthday — when he should have been chanting his haftarah — in order to lubricate his entry into the upper reaches of British society. Disraeli became the prime minister of England. He was proud of his Jewish origins. But, that is precisely what they remained: origins.
In France, in 1954-1955, Pierre Mendes France briefly served as prime minister, but he had to downplay his Judaism in the process.
The era of “suppressed Jewishness” ended on Aug. 6, 2002, when Al Gore chose Joseph Lieberman. He is a traditional Jew who lives by the Jewish calendar and who lives by Jewish ideas. He is a model of what it means to be a Jew in the modern world.
We have entered a new era in American Jewish history — and I call it the Lieberman era. What does the Lieberman era mean to us as Jews?
There is a painting by a Jewish artist named Dennis Kardon. The painting is called “Lover’s Quarrel.” It shows the artist attached to his double as if they were Siamese twins. One likeness wears a baseball cap, and the other wears a yarmulke. If you look closely, you will see that there is a scar where those two selves are joined together.
What is the meaning of the Lieberman era? It means we can now erase that imagined scar where our Jewish selves and our secular selves are joined together — because those parts cry out for integration. They can be one and the same. There is no need to deny any aspect of our Judaism. We don’t have to choose either the ghetto or the world. We can have it all. We can be Jews and modern. We can tie our pieces together. As God is “echad,” the symbol of oneness, we can also be echad.
If one can be a serious Jew and enter public life and ascend to the very heights, then what does that say about us and about our children and about the messages we send?
Now, I hear some of the murmurings in our collective hearts. Some American Jews gulp and whisper to themselves that maybe Joseph Lieberman is a little “too Jewish.”
Have you ever noticed something about that phrase “too Jewish?” You’ve never heard a gentile say it! It’s our problem! One of our young members said to me: “You know, Rabbi, many parents worry about their kids becoming too Jewish. No one worries about them becoming too secular.”
It is time for us to worry. The Lieberman era of American Judaism means we must ask ourselves hard questions: What is our Judaism to us? What do we want Judaism to be for our children and for our grandchildren? Do we want a Judaism that is occasional and peripheral; a Judaism at the margins of our existences; a Judaism of dress up performances — or do we want a Judaism that is central and integral, a Judaism that is about life itself?
But it turns out that not only has Lieberman’s Jewishness made no difference to the American public … Lieberman’s Judaism has made a difference.
This is why. America is a deeply religious country. This is probably the most religious country of the West. Some 60% of Americans attend church every Sunday (don’t ask me about the statistics for Jews on Saturday). (In recent years, as of 2024, these statistics for church attendance have dropped.)
Americans respect religious people. Because Judaism is a religion, Americans respect Judaism — far more than we think. An assimilated Jew, a peripheral Jew, an apathetic Jew could not have achieved, in the American public imagination, what Joseph Lieberman has achieved. (My observation about Lieberman’s Judaism and Jewishness turned out to be accurate. His candidacy barely produced a blip of antisemitism).
And now, an outrageous question: Is it remotely possible that the Lieberman candidacy might be part of God’s plan for the Jewish people?
This is not a political endorsement. It is an endorsement of the very reason for Jewish existence in the world.
We Jews have a mission. We have a purpose. We have a job description. Back at Mount Sinai, God called our ancestors together and said: “You shall be to Me a kingdom of priests and a holy people.”
Look at what has happened during the Lieberman candidacy. It has been an educational experience for America. What do Americans find most interesting about Joseph Lieberman? Shabbat. Are not the pundits wondering aloud: How will he campaign on Shabbat? Would he attend an inauguration on Shabbat? What will he do? What won’t he do? (Subsequently, Sen. Lieberman wrote a book extolling the Jewish Sabbath.)
Because people are wondering how Joseph Lieberman will balance Shabbat with his duties, it has opened up a conversation in this country. It has begun to teach people how to sanctify time, to teach people how to sanctify life. Joe Lieberman has publicly borne witness to an aspect of holiness in the world.
The world needs that message. Desperately.
Do not forget Mordecai’s words to Esther: “It is possible that you have come to the palace for just this purpose.”
Postscript: Since the time of Joseph Lieberman’s candidacy, Senator Bernie Sanders has been a candidate for the presidential nomination. His Judaism and his Jewish identity is quite different from the Jewish face that Senator Lieberman offered to America, and to the world.
So, too, the aftermath of Oct. 7 — a startling rise in anti-Jewish sentiment, much of which has nothing to do with the war in Gaza — has led to a sobering re-assessment of the American Jewish future. Few have said it as eloquently and as comprehensively as Franklin Foer in a cover piece in The Atlantic.
But, despite it all, the career of Senator Joseph P. Lieberman was a deep source of pride for American Jews. He exemplified so much of what we are and what we aspire to be.
For that reason, he deserves his place in eternity.
May his memory be a blessing, and may God comfort his loved ones — and all of us— as well.
