Adonai, who may sojourn in Your tent, who may dwell on Your holy mountain? One who lives without blame, who does what is right, and in one’s heart acknowledges the truth; whose tongue is not given to evil; who has never done harm to his fellow, or borne reproach for [acts toward] one’s neighbor; for whom a contemptible person is abhorrent, but who honors those who fear Adonai; who stands by an oath even to harm; who has never lent money at interest, or accepted a bribe against the innocent. One who acts thus shall never be shaken. (15:1-5)

I often read this Psalm at funerals. As I consider the qualities of the life of the deceased and listen to the family speak about their loved one and reframe my thoughts and their words into a eulogy, it seems that the good qualities in this Psalm apply to virtually every one of them. I know this is not likely. Were I to be completely objective, I would not use this Psalm. Why do I use it? Because when we have experienced the loss of someone significant in our lives, we want there to be some quality or qualities that made their life worth living and their memory worth remembering. We should be relatively honest in how we recall and speak of the deceased, but we should also try to remember their positive values and way they influenced us. We don’t speak ill of the dead.

On top of this, however, I have found by sitting with so many families after a death that it is always possible to find qualities that bring a smile to the face of their relatives. It should give us hope. For all the mistakes we made during our lifetimes, the vast majority of us do more good than harm.

I also read this Psalm, I think, because to do so gives the survivors and other guests at the funeral something to live up to. When I am at a funeral (and listening, rather than speaking), I am thinking about how I might emulate the positive qualities of the deceased. Psalm 15 reminds us of the power and importance of living with truth and integrity.

Jewish holidays like Hanukkah, Purim, and Passover remind us of the courage and integrity of our ancestors who proudly lived Jewish lives under adverse conditions – it is thanks to them that we may celebrate our freedom from oppression. We might also consider the importance of honestly giving thanks for what we have, even as we are aware that we don’t have everything we might want.

The fool thinks, “There is no God.” (14:1)

This is not the kind of language that I would have used. Fool is a strong, aggressive, word and I think we have too much aggressive language in our contemporary society. Too many people use name calling rather than trying to understand and  appreciate the position of the “fool” with whom they disagree. Rather than disparaging the atheist, ask what there is to admire about his or her set of beliefs.

NPR’s “Talk of the Nation” aired a series in 2014 examining different beliefs in the afterlife. One person interviewed was an atheist named Samuel Sheffler who published a book on “Death and the Afterlife.” I quoted from an op-ed he wrote for the New York ties in October before Yizkor on Shemini Atzeret. His position is that the fact that we know that after we die people will live on is the single most critical factor in giving us the motivation to live meaningful lives. For proof, he invites us to engage in the following thought experiment. If we knew for an absolute certainty that the world will come to an end shortly after we die – imagine that an asteroid will wipe out all life – how many of us would live the same lives that we have lived. How many of us would have children? How many of us would build wealth to give to museums, synagogues, or other charitable organizations? How many of us would do research to find a cure for cancer, write great works of literature, or create beautiful works of art – if we knew that virtually no one would enjoy or benefit from our work?

The claim, “There is no God” is also a challenge to the image of God as the old man with the white beard watching and exercising minute control over everything that happens to us. Rabbi Brad Artson (or maybe it was Rabbi David Wolpe) told a story once of a conversation he had with an atheist. The atheist claimed that believe in God was ridiculous and reason demanded that one be an atheist, and the rabbi asked to atheist to describe God and why precisely he could not believe. After listening to the atheist’s description of God, which very much resembled the description that a religious person might give, the rabbi said, “You know, I don’t believe in that God either.” He then went on to describe a much more sophisticated view of God.

Thank God for the questions of the atheist!

How long will You hide Your face from me? (13:2)

What happens when God hides God’s face from the individual or from the world? Deuteronomy 31:17 suggests that when God’s face is hidden, we lose God’s protection from the evils and troubles that surround us in the world. When God’s face is hidden, we are vulnerable. In a contrasting image, the Priestly blessing, Birkat Kohanim, promises that God’s face will “shine upon us and be gracious to us” and God will “Lift up God’s face to us and grant us Shalom, peace, wholeness.” (Numbers 6:25-26). The Priestly blessing suggests that when God’s face is given to us, we have protection.

There are so many different ways that we can be killed or injured … If I were to start thinking about all of the random ways that I could get hurt or killed while driving a car down the highway I would become paralyzed and unable to drive. If I were to start thinking about how easy it would be for a driver to become distracted and drift over a couple feet onto the shoulder of Michigan street when I am walking home from shul, I would be afraid to walk. At any given moment a tree could fall down, a piece of concrete could fall from a bridge, a gas line could leak and explode, or a heretofore unknown flaw in my biological or genetic makeup could reach a critical point and strike me with a fatal condition.

I live my life consciously unaware of all of these things, certain that I will be protected from them (until I am not). I am grateful for my ability to be naive and unaware and see God’s face surrounding me and protecting me.

“… the pious are no more; the faithful have vanished …” (12:2)

Taking a stand on an issue is not always a pleasant experience, especially when social networks make everything that we say or do liable to become the subject of public scrutiny. Anonymous critics harshly pick at those whose positions are based on moral principles. When we take a stand which upholds traditional religious values, we may find ourselves at odds with contemporary society’s values. It is an uncomfortable place to stand, and we might feel alone and isolated.

But there are those, such as members of Topeka’s Westboro Baptist Church, who claim to base themselves on religious principles yet behave atrociously, demonstrating against churches and military funerals and others with signs proclaiming “God hates fags.” While I believe with all my heart that one can be in a same sex relationship consistent with Torah principles, I understand and respect those whose religious teachings and understanding of Leviticus hold differently. I have no tolerance, however, for those who claim piety but treat gay and lesbian couples (and those who support such unions) with open hatred.

Authentic piety demands more than adherence to a code of belief. It asks us to adhere to a code of behavior based on the principle of “love your neighbor” that recognizes the essential humanity of every person. It asks us to be humble and faithful enough to realize that as human beings, we too have flaws and inconsistencies; that we too fail at times, and that we are not infallible. When we take a position on an issue, we ought to also have the humility to realize that those who disagree with us may also be taking a principled position.