(Courtesy of Rabbi Eitan Cooper)
Rabbi Eitan Cooper
Sukkot
This week marks the 60th anniversary of the 1965 World Series between the Los Angeles Dodgers and the Minnesota Twins. And while this fact is not relevant to most, it is significant for one reason: Sandy Koufax, the star pitcher on the Los Angeles Dodgers, whose nickname was the “Left Arm of God,” chose not to play on Oct. 6, the first game of the series.
That day, of course, was Yom Kippur.
Many are familiar with Sandy’s choice and attach a particular significance and weight to this moment in American Jewish history. Many even frame Sandy’s absence from the game in religious terms, referring to it as a fulfillment of the mitzvah of “Kiddush Hashem” (sanctification of God’s name).
Most commentaries associate this commandment with moments of intense sacrifice for our religion — whether it be dying or risking our lives or our reputations for the sake of our beliefs. On Yom Kippur, we read 10 such accounts — the “Eleh Ezkerah” section of the machzor, which describes the harrowing and tragic experience of 10 rabbis who were killed by the Romans because of their determination to teach and learn Torah. We can draw inspiration from many other famous “Kiddush Hashem” moments throughout Jewish history, and Sandy Koufax’s choice, while not one in which he was risking his life, is often seen as a prime example. Someone who was able to so proudly and confidently embrace his Jewish identity in such a public way certainly deserves religious recognition.
Pitcher Sandy Koufax. (Courtesy of Bell Brands via Wikimedia Commons)
In actuality, Sandy’s choice, albeit historic, was not actually a choice. Instead of agonizing over whether he should or should not pitch, Koufax considered playing on Yom Kippur a nonstarter. He told ESPN in the year 2000, “There was no hard decision for me. … It was just a thing of respect. I wasn’t trying to make a statement, and I had no idea that it would impact that many people.”
If a “Kiddush Hashem” decision is meant to be an intentional and brave act or a bold religious decision, can we still understand Sandy’s “no hard decision,” in which he did not want to make any statement, as a Kiddush Hashem?
The Torah reading for the first two days of Sukkot (read this year on Tuesday, Oct. 7, and Wednesday, Oct. 8) offers us an insight into this question. Immediately before describing the nature of the holidays (the main reason we read this section of the Torah on Sukkot), we read another set of verses: “You shall not profane My holy name, that I may be sanctified in the midst of the Israelite people — I the LORD who sanctify you.” (Leviticus 22:32)
These verses are one of the main biblical references to the mitzvah of sanctifying God’s name. Why is it that our rabbis chose to include this section in the Torah reading for Sukkot? The Netziv, Rav Naftali Zvi Yehuda Berlin (19th century, Lithuania), teaches that fulfilling the mitzvah of Kiddush Hashem can be accomplished by anyone — in more modest ways than we might assume. He writes, “the commandment here is understood as referring to the obligation to pray during the festivals — just as, according to the Sages, one is obligated to pray every day … on the festivals, when everyone gathered in Jerusalem, they could sanctify God’s name together publicly.”
The Netziv teaches that sanctifying God’s name need not be dramatic — it can happen when Jews simply come together in holy moments of tefillah (prayer). Sandy Koufax’s decision not to pitch on Yom Kippur was just that: not an act of defiance, but of quiet integrity. He didn’t set out to make a statement; he simply lived his values. And that is the essence of Kiddush Hashem — not necessarily to make holiness visible through bold sacrifice but through the natural, steady rhythm of life.
Eitan Cooper is the associate rabbi at Beth Sholom Congregation and Talmud Torah in Potomac, Maryland.
