Letters from the Rabbi's Desk

December 2024

My heart is heavy for the hostages, their families, friends, communities that are still waiting for their return. My heart is heavy for the mourning of so many innocent lives lost both Israeli, Palestinian, and Lebanese, and the utter devastation and destruction wrought by war. My heart is heavy for the politics of divisiveness that have torn at Israel’s democracy long before October 7th and are now with over a year of war continue to erode the bonds within Israeli society. My heart aches for new generations of innocence lost and for a future that feels further from resolution and peace. My heart aches for Israel and many Jews worldwide that feel there no where we are safe, where we are not outcast, and where we have a rightful seat at the table. My heart aches to see the physical, emotional, and spiritual toll on my family and friends who are sending their children to war, living under mortal threats from missiles, drones, and terror attacks daily. My heart aches to see a land and its people whose potential for economic, technological, spiritual, and academic success is being stunted by those who wish to take it backwards. My heart aches from the creeping doubts about whether we are living in the interregnum between the 3rd Commonwealth of Israel’s existence or the precipice of impending disaster, destruction, and exile. Finally (although I am sure there are more), my heart aches because an aliyat ha’aretz (going up to Israel) should be a spiritual ascent filled with joy, holiness, and love and not done with such a heavy heart.

I will be back before Hanukkah and our final Centennial Celebration both of which fill me with hope and joy. May our collective light and God’s steadfast love, heal and dispel the darkness.

B’todah rabbah (With deep gratitude),

Rabbi Singer

 

Reprint from May 2018
Al haDavash v’al haOketz - Honey and Thorns: Deepening the love between American & Israeli Jews

            There is an old adage that says, “Love is blind.” It is based on the common experience of when a couple first falls in love, and each sees their partner as perfect. Foibles and idiosyncrasies are often overlooked in order to move the relationship forward because it is so young, fresh, and romantic.  However, as the relationship deepens and becomes more serious, it reaches the end of the honeymoon phase, and a more mature and honest love hopefully takes hold. Each partner in the relationship can be honest about who they and their partner truly are. They learn to acknowledge, cope with, and even embrace each others’ human imperfections. I believe this type of mature love is desperately needed in the relationship between American diaspora Jewry and the State of Israel.

            For my grandparent’s generation, the State of Israel was an unquestionable miracle. They worked to build the State of Israel with unwavering support in both money and political capital after it sprang forth from the horrific tragedy of the Shoah (Holocaust), which saw the destruction of European Jewry. From the JNF to Hadassah and AIPAC, we as American Jews were active participants in the fate and destiny of our ancestral homeland. We could vicariously be Zionist pioneers, turning the desert into forests, and also be protectors of this safe haven for Jews seeking new lives who were gathering from around the world. Israel was the underdog, who, against the odds, turned back the Arab armies time after time.

            This perspective on Israel’s founding miracle climaxed in the 1967 Six Day War, when not only did Israel win a war in six days, but also reclaimed Jerusalem and the Temple Mount. Even the Peace and Love generation couldn’t help but get wrapped up in the euphoria of Israel’s triumph. Israel became a badge of honor for American Jews who began to make the pilgrimage to see firsthand the dream of Israel become a reality. The heroism and derring-do of Israel’s defenders (including capturing Eichmann and the rescue at Entebbe) mingled with the sadness of the 1972 Munich Olympics, the Islamic Revolution in Iran, and the entanglement of the civil war in Lebanon. Israel was an important source of Jewish pride and identity even as many American Jews began to pull away from observance and synagogue life. No longer would we be victims at the hands of others. Our history, identity, and future was now guaranteed in the strength of Israel.

            But something fundamentally flawed was allowed to seep into the psyches of some in the American and Israeli communities. From the Diaspora side, love of Israel meant believing that Israel had to be perfect. Israel was routinely placed on the highest of pedestals in American Jewish thinking, either to counteract the deep vitriol and anti-Semitism of the world or as a panacea for the decline of American Jewish religious affiliation and identity. As a natural reaction to the “Zionism = Racism” scourge that permeated (and still permeates) much of the world’s opinion, American Jewry closed ranks around Israel. In Israel, there grew a sense that American Jews were good for money (checkbook Zionists), but were “too delicate” or uncommitted to move to Israel in large numbers and fulfill the true Zionist imperative, to literally serve and build the State of Israel. What right then should the Diaspora have in commenting about Israeli policy and life? Diaspora Jews were not there and therefore had no skin in the game.

            Over time, both of these perspectives have damaged the love relationship between the State of Israel and American diaspora Jewry, serving to drive a wedge between them. I believe American Jews need to learn that Israel is not and does not have to be perfect for us to love her! Family is family — period! There are times when Israel fails to do what is right. When it fails to live up to the highest ideals of Jewish ethics and, just like every country on the face of the Earth, it has both good and not so good leaders and moments in its history. Life is complicated, and choices are often weighed between differing ethical values. Also, in the realpolitik of a nation state, compromise and imperfection are inherent. Mistakes are part of being human. In a mature, loving relationship, loving the other is not contingent on perfection or agreeing with each other all the time, but instead on the deep ties and connections of journeying through life together. However, when the myth of Israeli perfection burst, the American Jewish community and our educational system could not find the way to teach, let alone talk about, a more mature love of Israel. Instead, it developed a bunker mentality, pitting any critique of Israel as being a betrayal of Israel and our love for her. Silence was enforced for fear of hurting Israel, leading American Jews away from Israel, or giving succor to the anti-Semites hiding behind an anti-Israel/anti-Zionist facade.

            Yet, the need for Israel to be perfect, and the fear of talking about the real problems in Israeli society and the hard choices it faces for security and survival have become a taboo that I believe has come back to hurt us. As in any relationship, communication and dialogue are critical aspects of a healthy relationship. Israel has become a third rail not to be touched. Insults, condemnations, and accusations of disloyalty have shut down important debate among those who love Israel and want Israel to thrive and succeed. The result is that far too many younger American Jews have a totally unrealistic view of Israel to both extremes. Either Israel has to be perfect, or Israel is always wrong. The narrative has become black or white. This lack of mature love of Israel has not only driven away nuance, but has driven American Jews away from Israel. It has made us weaker in our defense against the truly heinous Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions (BDS) movement gripping college campuses and supported by Israel’s true enemies. American liberal values, which many Jews believe in (and are taught in religious school), are being used as a bludgeon to challenge young Jews to choose falsely between Israel and what they believe to be morally right.

            Further, on the Israeli side, there are many Israelis who do not understand American Jews or American Judaism. They fight and die for Israel, joining the IDF before going to college. They grow up very fast, face real danger, and cannot relate to American students coming on a ten day Birthright trip to sightsee, party, and sometimes dabble in an often superficial Jewish (religious?) experience. Even the most secular of Israelis too often have come to believe that the clock is ticking on American Jewry. They cannot understand how and why the Diaspora should matter and are often taught little about American Jewish life and its pluralistic approach to our Jewish faith. Most of their textbooks and education leave this out completely. They do not understand why the vast majority of American Jews get bent out of shape about issues of religious pluralism, and are hurt when their deep Jewish beliefs are not recognized by the only Jewish state in the world.

            I believe that for the love of Israel and the Diaspora, we must begin to heal this rift and devote ourselves to a more mature, robust, and honest love. Again, Israel does not need to be perfect to warrant our love and highest support. We should celebrate the miracle of Israel and her remarkable achievements. In just 70 years, Israel’s art, poetry, music, technology, culture, science, medicine, and democracy are the envy of the world — a light unto the nations! Yet, income inequality, racial tension, religious intolerance, the African refugee crisis, and especially the Palestinian dilemma (which has created an internal threat to Israel’s survival as a Jewish democratic state) cannot be whitewashed or ignored. Israel’s enemies like Iran, Hezbollah, Hamas and others are a real and immediate danger, but in the long run, so too is losing a future generation of American Jewish support of Israel.

            Likewise, there are real problems in American Jewish life (assimilation, the cost of Jewish life/education, shrinking demographics, etc.), but the solution is neither to write us off as lost or deny our stake in the fate of the Jewish state. American Jewish life is dynamic, creative, and vibrant with much to teach and share. Here, a Jew, in a free society, can choose to express his or her Judaism in many different ways and among many different streams and still work together with others to build a strong Jewish community.

            Both Israel and America are worthy of our deepest love, blood, sweat, and tears, not because they are perfect, but because despite the ups and downs, we are family. We both are striving to make ourselves and the dreams we were founded on become reality. This type of love requires a new mature, reality-based understanding and education about our two Jewish communities. Relational bridges must be built, strengthened, and renewed in order to keep our Jewish American/Israeli family strong. Not only are our fates intertwined and dependent upon one another, but the very wholeness of our hearts as Am Yisrael is as well. As the Naomi Shemer song Al Kol Eyleh reminds us, Jewish life is about acknowledging both the “honey and the thorns,” and in doing so love is not diminished but instead becomes more appreciated and deeper. It is time for American/Israeli love to grow up. After all, our tradition teaches that the number 70 is a special number representing the diverse facets and interpretations (shevim panim) of God’s Torah, which serves to grow and enrich our people and tradition. Love, too, has many facets and dimensions worthy of our best efforts and devotion. May God bless the State of Israel on her 70th birthday! Together we raise our voices to toast — Am Yisrael Chai!

 

ARCHIVES

November 2024

The Thanksgiving Table: The Necessity of Conversations

After the fall of the  Second Temple, the Rabbis did something spiritually audacious and pragmatic, they taught that some of the Divine presence which filled the Temple (Beit HaMikdash) entered into the homes of every Jew - particularly around the dining room table. They would term this the “Mikdash Me’at” or the “Small Temple/Sanctuary.” (Note: The synagogue and study hall were also referred to a mikdash me’at as well) This was a revolutionary and powerful idea because it meant that no matter where Jews would gather to break bread together, celebrate holidays together, and make time to be in conversation together, there was the presence of God’s holiness in that place. The Shulchan (the Showbread Table) in the Temple now became the shulchan or the kitchen or dining room table where our bodies were nourished with good food and our souls were nourished with family, friends, and guests. The table became the central point of the home. It was the place where after a long day of school or work, families would come together to check-in, talk about what is happening in their lives or about the world around them. It is no wonder that for the Rabbis, the innovation of the Passover Seder, the weekly Shabbat kiddush over wine, and the Grace After Meals (Birkat HaMazon) became important parts of Jewish ritual practice. For all of the importance of the food and drink, it was also the “Torah” and meaningful conversations around the table that may mattered more. These conversations were and are still vital to sustaining and strengthening our relationships with God and with each other.

It is true that not all of these table talk moments have good outcomes. Sometimes conversations could be hurtful or contentious. Sometimes what was shared was painful and heartbreaking. Yet, the opportunity to be in conversation is still valuable and in my opinion a necessity. Further, I acknowledge that the pace of our activities, the time we allot to eating meals, and technological distractions are making it harder to sit down, slow down, and talk with one another. We may also be losing some of the key skills (like truly listening, storytelling, attention span, etc.) to do so. But, without being able to be in authentic conversation with each other we too often talk past each other, don’t fully understand each other, and lose out on meaningful and consequential conversations we need to be able to have for our relationships to deepen and flourish.

 This is also true on the larger communal scale as well. Neighbors make neighborhoods and neighborhoods make villages we live in, and those villages shape our societies. We are interconnected and therefore responsible and accountable. It should not come as a surprise that some of the toxicity of our current political divisions are due to the fact that we do not talk and listen to those whose fears, anxieties, ideas, and values differ from our own. Not matter their virility, sound bites, Tik Toks, and tweets do not leave space for meaningful conversation, veracity, and intimate human connection.

Of course this has made the Thanksgiving table one that is fraught with landmines of topics too hot to touch or even family and friends disinvited to celebrate together. Yuval Noah Harari, a brilliant Israeli historian, points out that our democracy was founded on having conversations with each other in taverns, the public square, the newspaper, and people’s homes. From the halls of Congress, to the local town hall, to the kitchen table, Americans would discuss, debate, and yes, find compromise in the messy negotiation of how we are to live civilly together. Can we understand each others stories, needs, aspirations? Can we listen to different approaches to tackling difficult issues and challenges? Both on the macro and micro levels of our relationships as human beings, we need human connection through conversation. Around the table, is one place where our personal stories are told, values expressed, and in Jewish thought and practice the sacred shared together.

So this Thanksgiving, may we give thanks for the many blessings that God has bestowed on us and our nation. May we take the time to talk to one another, share stories, laugh, eat, and even debate ideas and issues respectfully together. May we not make Thanksgiving the only time we seek to strengthen our table talk and prioritize time and skills for meaningful conversations with each other. In this way may our mikdash me’at our tables and homes be worthy of holiness of the Divine Presence.

ARCHIVES

September 2024

The Gift of Elul

When we think of getting a gift there is a sense of excitement and joy. Whether there is fancy wrapping paper or a simple envelope - receiving a gift no matter its expense or size reflects that someone was thinking of us and wanted to share something special with us. I believe the month of Elul is such a gift - a loving gift from God. For a whole month we get to hear the blast of the shofar calling to us. It is a spiritual journey that opens for us doors of opportunity for self-reflection, recounting of our past year, and new insights into the direction we would like our lives to go. On Facebook and other social media platforms, at certain times of the year there are curated memories with photos that pop-up to remind us of events, people, places, and experiences in our lives over the year(s). Sometimes it is fun to be reminded of these memories and hard to believe how fast time flies. Other times, it is difficult and bitter sweet to see the photos of family and friends who have journeyed on or the nostalgia for different times and moments of our lives. While Facebook memories may appear random, the month of Elul is deliberate and requires effort from us. Like clockwork, our Jewish tradition sets the month of Elul (which is the 6th month of the Jewish calendar) as the time to gather all of spiritual receipts over that past year. In a process known as cheshbon hanefesh (spiritual accounting) we attempt to look back and ask ourselves the deepest questions:

How have I changed this year? 
What am I thankful for? 
What am I regretful of?   
What are the things I am sad about?
What are the things I am looking forward to?
How have I grown intellectually, spiritually, socially?
What obstacles and challenges am I dealing with?
How am I seeking to own them and get beyond them or cope with them?
Have I told the people I love how much they mean to me?
How have I shared my love with others? In what ways have I hurt others or myself?
In what ways have I helped others and myself?

During the month of Elul we ponder these questions and many more. We begin to make the mental (and/or physical) list of how we spent another year of God’s gift of life. This requires space, time, and sincerity. Through the tekiah, shevarim, and teruah - the shofar calls out to us to wake up and take stock of our lives. Its sounds have the ability to shatter the defensive walls we put up inside ourselves either to forget, ignore, or hide from the choices we have made or the repair, healing, and forgiveness that we are in need of.

I am not sure that left up to my own devices, that I would want or make the time to go through this reflection and introspection. That is why, Elul is such a gift. In the Midrash, our Sages teach that the word Elul (Aleph Lamed Vav Lamed) contains a hidden acronym to a verse in the Song of Songs - “Ani L’Dodi V’Dodi Li - I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.” Like the lovers in the Song of Song, the Sages imagine that God is searching for us and seeking our return in love. We first however must grapple with the choices and parts of ourselves that keep us distant from God and likewise the feelings and issues that distance God from us. The highest level of teshuvah (Return/Repentance) and the healing and forgiveness it brings cannot take place without the honest reflection and soul searching that the month of Elul gifts us. So much so that in the Sephardic tradition, each day of the month is accompanied by liturgical additions known as selichot, which are penitential prayers/poems meant to spur us towards cheshbon hanefesh (spiritual accounting) and the process of teshuvah. In the Ashkenazi tradition we gather together at midnight after the last Shabbat before Rosh HaShanah to recite selichot (this year on September 28th at 8pm - Temple Beth El). 

How fast the seasons change and the days of our lives pass. The gift of the month of Elul, makes us stop to take a breath and reflect. If we do not like the direction of our life, we can choose to recalibrate and change. If we haven’t acknowledged the blessings we have been given - we can say, “Thank you!” If we are in need of healing and compassion, we can ready our hearts too. May we use these days of Elul wisely as we look forward to to greeting the new year of 5785 together.

August 2024

If I forget thee, O Jerusalem… The Power of Collective Grief

A sweltering long sunny summer day is the perfect time for a full Yom Kippur length fast, right?! No water, no shower, no fun allowed. Yes, Tisha B’Av (9th of Av) observance is always a difficult sell for a vast majority of Jews. It has even been suggested that since the rebirth of the State of Israel and its opportunity to return from Diaspora, that Tisha B’Av or at least some of its strictures be annulled. And yet, I believe there is something extremely important that Tisha B’Av offers us that no other Jewish holiday captures - an outlet and expression of our collective grief. True, Yom HaShoah is certainly a hard and difficult remembrance of the unbearable murder and torture of our people at the hands of the Nazis and their supporters but the hateful antisemitism that fueled the Shoah did not start in 1930’s Europe. From Pharaoh’s order to murder every Jewish baby boy (Pesach), to Haman’s plot to murder all of the Jews of Persia (Purim), to Antiochus Epiphanes IV’s tyrannical war to wipe out Judaism (Hanukkah) - some of our most terrifying and darkest moments have holidays associated with them. However in each of those cases - God saved us and we prevailed. Yet, what about the Crusades, the Spanish Inquisition, the countless pogroms, and expulsions? How do we remember and mark the tragedies that have befallen our people throughout the centuries? And maybe more spiritually resonant, how do we create the heart space necessary to hold so much collective suffering, pain, and grief without abandoning hope and faith? Answer: Tisha B’Av.

The Book of Lamentations (Eicha) is a poetic outpouring of the Jewish soul. It lays bare the horror and tragedy of the fall of Jerusalem in 586 _BCE even giving voice to the city herself. On Tisha B’Av, we recall the loss of the 1^st Temple and our exile for 70 years to Assyria (later Bablyonia & Persia) and following the 2^nd Temple’s destruction by the Romans in 70_CE  the 2,000 year loss of our ability to control our fate and destiny as a free people in our own land. A people, faith, and nation tempest tossed, wandering, and exiled but none the less resilient and hopeful - dreaming of our return to Zion. Tisha B’Av is a Jewish “barbaric yawlp” of our suffering and pain. Just as we mourn for loved ones who have passed away, on Tisha B’Av we refrain from bathing, cutting our hair, wearing jewelry or adornments (even tefillin), eating meat, drinking alcohol, and any activities which bring us joy. Instead we sing dirges (kinot), sit on the ground (or close to it), and yes, fast. We don’t do these rituals only as individuals but as a community - one big Jewish family. We do not call for a “Day of Rage” at what has befallen us but instead observe a day of remembrance, repentance, tears, and in the end healing & hope. As the last line of Eicha reminds us “Chadesh yameinu k’kedem” - renew our days as in days of old.

This year the rituals of Tisha B’Av feel even more necessary - evil and hatred has once again swept over our people: 1,200 murdered, over a hundred still held captive, tens of thousands displaced, and the heartrending suffering of so so many. The merciless purveyors of death on October 7th turned a day of joy (Simchat Torah) into mourning. But Simchat Torah will still be a day of joy, therefore it is on Tisha B’Av that we collect and focus all of our mourning and grief as generations have done before. One day, for us all together, to allow the darkness and pain that may be present in our history and our hearts the freedom of full, open, and shared expression. In unity, we support each other.

 I fully acknowledge that Tisha B’Av is difficult physically, theologically, and emotionally. So I wish to suggest a range of meaningful observances: 1) Come to our evening service on Monday night August 12th, 2) Remove jewelry and leather, 3) Don’t shave or get a haircut for a few weeks leading up to Tisha B’Av (traditionally 3 weeks), 4) Eat and drink only the minimum you need for your health (which is the same for Yom Kippur), 5) Study a book of Jewish history, 6) Read stories about the lives of those who were murdered or captured on October 7th, 7) Donate and/or volunteer to alleviate someone else’s suffering or pain. (Examples: Magen David Adom, HIAS, Hatzalah, etc.) I would venture to say that Tisha B’Av is no one’s favorite Jewish holiday and yet I believe its importance in expressing our collective grief is still vital today. We are bound together by our past, present, and future. Our hearts break together, our prayers ascend to the Heavens together, and we will resiliently forge our future together. Therefore, If I forget thee, O Jerusalem… Wishing you a meaningful Tisha B’Av observance...

June 2024

Finding the Beauty in Mitzvot - Hiddur Mitzvah

There is a concept in Jewish tradition called hiddur mitzvah - literally to beautify a commandment. At first it seems a little strange - a commandment after all is an obligatory and covenantal action or behavior which we as Jews can either fulfill or not. Furthermore, as long as I have fulfilled the minimum requirements of a mitzvah does my kavannah (intentionality) really matter? For example, when fulfilling the mitzvah of giving tzedakah does it make a difference if I gave money to someone in need begrudgingly with a sour disposition or with a smile? Mitzvot again after all are proscribed and if accomplished - that should be the end - mitzvah points earned! But of course the Sages are undeterred and have other ideas in mind.

The origins of this idea began with a Midrash around the verse of the Song of the Sea, “This is my God and I will glorify Him (anveihu), the Lord of my father and I will raise Him up.”.” (Exodus 15:2) Rabbi Ishmael is troubled. Is it possible for human beings to add glory to God? After all, ALL glory is already God’s! Instead Rabbi Ishmael teaches that the verse means, I shall glorify God in the way I perform mitzvot. I shall prepare before God a beautiful lulav, a beautiful sukkah, beautiful tzitzit, and beautiful tefillin.” [Midrash Mechilta, Shirata, Chapter 3, ed. Lauterbach, p. 25.]

The Talmud (Shabbat 133b) in discussing how a brit milah (ritual circumcision) can be done on Shabbat further elaborates. “It was taught in a Baraita with regard to this verse: The Sages interpreted anveihu (glorify Him) homiletically as linguistically related to beauty (Hebrew root: nun, aleph, hey), and interpreted the verse: Beautify yourself before Him in mitzvot. Even if one fulfills the mitzvah by performing it simply, it is nonetheless proper to perform the mitzvah as beautifully as possible.” I know what you are thinking - YES! even a bris should be done by a skilled mohel/mohelet and be beautifully performed.

The Baraita continues, “Make before Him a beautiful sukkah, a beautiful lulav, a beautiful shofar, beautiful tzitzit, beautiful parchment for a Torah scroll, and write in it in His name in beautiful ink, with a beautiful quill by an expert scribe, and wrap the scroll in beautiful silk fabric. Abba Shaul says: Ve’anveihu (glorify Him) should be interpreted as if it were written in two words: Ani vaHu, me and Him [God]. Be similar, as it were, to God, the Almighty: Just as God is compassionate and merciful, so too should you be compassionate and merciful.

Midrash Rabbah on the Song of Songs reinforces this idea with poetic beauty:

“Behold, you are beautiful, my love; behold, you are beautiful; your eyes are like doves” (Song of Songs 1:15).

Behold you are beautiful in mitzvot, behold you are beautiful in acts of kindness. Behold you are beautiful in positive commandments, behold you are beautiful in negative commandments. Behold you are beautiful in mitzvot of the house, in distributing terumah and tithes, behold you are beautiful in mitzvot of the field, in gleanings, forgotten sheaves, produce in the corner of the field, the tithe of the poor, and ownerless property. Behold you are beautiful regarding diverse kinds, behold you are beautiful regarding a cloak with tzitzit. Behold you are beautiful regarding planting, behold you are beautiful regarding orla, behold you are beautiful regarding fruit of the fourth year. Behold you are beautiful regarding circumcision, behold you are beautiful regarding uncovering. Behold you are beautiful in prayer, behold you are beautiful in the reciting of Shema. Behold you are beautiful regarding mezuzah, behold you are fair regarding phylacteries. Behold you are fair regarding sukkah, behold you are beautiful regarding the lulav and the etrog. Behold you are beautiful regarding repentance, behold you are beautiful regarding ma’asim tovim (good deeds). Behold you are beautiful in this world, behold you are beautiful in the World to Come.

And so our Sages created a new framework for Jewish living with the concept of hiddur mitzvah as a motivating core concept. Not only should we have beautiful ritual objects in our homes and synagogue but we should also act in beautiful ways towards each other. In other words to answer the tzedakah case earlier - Yes! How we fulfill the mitzvah of giving tzedakah matters. When we show kindness, compassion, and preserve human dignity - we bring glory to God and beautify ourselves and those around us.  In doing so we raise up the performance of mitzvot to a higher ethical and spiritual level and bring more creativity, joy, and possibility to enrich our lives.

As we celebrate receiving the Torah on Shavuot and renewing our commitment to the performance of mitzvot - May we do them with beauty, kindness, intentionality, and love; thereby bringing praise, honor, and glory to our Creator and to all of God’s creation.

Chag Sameach! - A Joyous Shavuot holiday!

 

May 2024

Ha Tickvah - The Hope

As I write this article, Shabbat has ended and over 300 missiles & drones have been launched by Iran towards Israel. Like many of you, I have reached out to my family living in Israel and am grateful to God that they are all safe. Over the past seven months we have endured the horrors of the Hamas attack on October 7th, the unbearable grief of the loss of 1,200 murdered men, women, and children, 200+ soldiers killed in action defending Israel, holding the pain and anguish of our people still held hostage in Gaza and their distraught families, and the rising hate and deligitimitization of Israel both worldwide and right here at home.

Still for me, one of the hardest aspects of these tragedies is not that our enemies would seek to hurt and destroy us (which sadly has been a part of our people’s long history) but the ignorance and actions of those of our own people who have joined with our enemies in their denial of Israel’s right to exist and even call for its destruction. I will leave the debate open about the overlap between anti-Zionism and anti-Semitism but instead I wish to focus this column on why I believe Zionism is an integral and inseparable part of our Jewish identity and Judaism itself. In this, I offer a commentary to -  HaTikvah - The Hope, which is Israel’s National Anthem - using the text from both from the original poem (below in red) and its current iteration (below in blue).

Naftali Herz Imber wrote the poem, “Tikvateinu” in 1878 in Austrian Galicia. It consisted of nine stanzas and included our ancient connection to the land as well as the responsibility of Jews everywhere to maintain our hope in returning to the Land of Israel. Imber wove religious references and language into the poem which would not be lost on Jewish readers.

(Original poem)

Our hope is not yet lost,
The ancient hope,
To return to the land of our fathers;
The city where David encamped.

As long as in his heart within,
A soul of a Jew still yearns,
And onwards towards the ends of the east,
His eye still looks towards Zion.

(Current song)

As long as in the heart, within,
The Jewish soul yearns,                                                  כל עוד בלבב פנימה , נפש יהודי הומיה,

The first line of the song reflects that as long as there are Jews left in the world the determination and hope of the Jewish people for redemption and return remains alive. This theme will be repeated in the last stanza. Imber understands that our yearning is so deep that it is a part of what Jewish souls ache for. Further it dispels the idea that Zionism was a new, novel concept born in the 1800’s with Herzl and the formation of the World Zionist Congress. Instead, this idea was always a part of us, our people’s story, and our faith. The hope for the return to the Promised Land and the restoration of Jewish worship and independence has been a feature of Jewish faith and practice since our time as slaves in Egypt, the 1st Exile in 586 _BCE through the Roman conquest and Great Diaspora, and until this very day. No matter where our people resided outside the Land we always held Israel as our homeland and the center of our religious and spiritual world. We not only pray for this (and face Jerusalem when doing so) but central to Jewish belief is the sanctity and uniqueness of the Land of Israel. For example, only certain mitzvot (Commandments) such as shmitah (7 year cycle of rest for the land), can be fulfilled in the Land of Israel. Finally, there was always a continuous Jewish presence in the Land of Israel even under the most difficult conditions throughout our history. We were not new to the Land nor its history and we lay no claim on any other place as our rightful national home. I believe this is inclusive and consistent with protecting the rights of others living in Israel and the possibility of peace with the Palestinians. But I unequivocally reject the false and specious belief that we, as Jews, have no claim to our homeland or the right to our own self-determination as an independent nation. This would deny and make a mockery of God’s promise to Abraham, the over 600+ mentions of Jerusalem in the TaNaKh (Hebrew Bible), the archeology of many thousands of years of Jewish life in the Land, the language and literature of Hebrew from ancient to modern day, and the fact that there are more Jews living in Israel than in any other single place in the world.

As long as tears from our eyes
Flow like benevolent rain,
And throngs of our countrymen
Still pay homage at the graves of our fathers.

As long as our precious Wall
Appears before our eyes,
And over the destruction of our Temple
An eye still wells up with tears.

As long as the waters of the Jordan
In fullness swell its banks,
And down to the Sea of Galilee
With tumultuous noise fall.

As long as on the barren highways
The humbled city-gates mark,
And among the ruins of Jerusalem
A daughter of Zion still cries.

As long as pure tears
Flow from the eye of a daughter of my nation
And to mourn for Zion at the watch of night
She still rises in the middle of the nights.

ולפאתי מזרח, קדימה, עין לציון צופי;

And towards the ends of the east,
[The Jewish] eye gazes toward Zion;

In the original poem the middle 7 stanzas all begin with, ,”As long as כל עוד”. This is important because it connects both the history and places within Israel to the continuing connective actions of our people. For instance in four of the stanzas the imagery of eyes crying for: the Wailing Wall, over the destruction of the Temple, and the ruins of Jerusalem are pictured. The idea that we must never forget Zion & Jerusalem has continuously been expressed and central throughout Jewish practice. Some examples include: breaking a glass at a wedding, to leaving a part of our homes unfinished/incomplete, to observing fast days around the history of the destruction of Israel and Jerusalem including Tisha B’Av, to saying L’Shanah Haba’ah B’Yerushaliyim (Next Year in Jerusalem) at the Passover Seder, to name a few. Israel embodies not only the origins of our history but as Imber reflects the present moment of our lives as a people and faith. Yes, we still mourn for Zion and Jerusalem (words we continue to recite in comforting mourners) and feel the losses and suffering in Israel today. The lives of our brothers and sisters in the Land are not separate from our own but a part of our collective present and future. We are intimately tied in fate together. In my opinion, it is a dangerous fallacy to believe that Judaism and our very lives would not be torn apart should our enemies succeed. (May it be God’s will, they don’t!!!)

(Original poem)

As long as the feeling of love of nation
Throbs in the heart of a Jew,
We can still hope even today
That a wrathful God may have mercy on us.

Hear, oh my brothers in the lands of exile,
The voice of one of our visionaries,
[Who declares] that only with the very last Jew,
Only there is the end of our hope!

 

 התקוה בת שנות אלפים,,עוד לא אבדה תקותינ

Our hope is not yet lost,
The hope of two thousand years,

 

להיות עם חפשי בארצנו, ארץ ציון וירושלים.

To be a free nation in our own land,
The land of Zion and Jerusalem.

Here Imber is specific about where the focus of our yearning lies - not to the nations we may find ourselves sojourning in but instead toward our homeland - to Zion and Jerusalem. The bonds which connect us to each other and the Land are those of love. And yes, we can and do love even that which is not perfect. This is vitally important - as we should all work to improve, change, and strive to better ourselves and Israel (America too). But, this desire comes first and foremost from a place of love. For example, God loves and forgives us even knowing we continually make mistakes, or we love our spouses, partners, children, and friends even though they are not perfect and reciprocally knowing that we are not perfect. Yes, we can disagree. Yes, freedom with all of its complexity is messy. But we must work to build up love as one of our highest motivating values or we will lose ourselves and the relationships that are the root of our past, present, and future.

Zionism is the dream of Jewish indigenous people returning to our land as a free people, connected once again to our history, sacred places, language, culture, and faith. Guided by our best values and with dignity for all of its residents, with God’s love and blessing, we will be able to build our own future. This is a hope that remains even unto the last of us, as long as we hold onto it and refuse to give it up. Herein lies the critical factor - that we - as Jewish people - not only never forget but that we continue to believe that we can/should/need/have the right to be a free people in our homeland, the Land of Israel. We must renew this sacred commitment and continue to work towards this eternal hope.

Am Yisrael Chai!

 

APRIL 2024

Why This Year’s Seder is Different from Other Years

            When I sat down to write this month’s bulletin message I found myself getting deeply emotional. It was not that I haven’t lived through challenging times both personal and communal before - Sept. 11th, my mother’s passing, the Pandemic, etc. but something feels really different in this moment of life and the history that is unfolding before us. Passover will mark the first major holiday since the Shemini Atzeret/Simchat Torah (October 7th) massacre. This year when families gather together to celebrate the Feast of Freedom, so many chairs will be empty around seder tables whether to lives lost or those still in bondage. The pain and the anguish are real. Israel is at war, 1,200+ Israelis murdered, over 250+ soldiers killed in action, 4000+ rockets, miles of terror tunnels linked to hospitals, schools, and homes. Jews around the world including right here at home under siege by anti-semitism which had already been on a meteoric rise since 2016 and now compounded by the war. Added to this is the horrible loss of civilian life in Gaza, as Palestinians with no where to go are caught between Hamas’s sadistic aims and the war to rid the world of Hamas'evil. But even enumerating all of these facts with their emotional weight still doesn’t get at the deeper existential questions in which I find myself asking this year.

1. Is this the end of the Golden Age of American Judaism? (as per Franklin Foer’s Atlantic article) What does this mean for us and for our children/grandchildren?
2. What will it take for us to feel safe? Here / in Israel / the world. What is the psychological cost? The spiritual cost?
3. How do we better teach our children/grandchildren about the deep interconnection between our religious values, our history, and Zionism?
4. How what happens to the largest community of our people (living freely in Israel) impacts Jews around the world and how what happens in the Diaspora impacts Israel?           

I am sure there are many more questions that could be asked. For me one of the beautiful aspects of the Passover seder is the asking of questions combined with the telling of our past story, the acknowledgement of our present story, and the hope for our future story yet to be written. As we sit down to our tables this year - whether explicitly or not - I feel each of us needs to ask, “Why is this year is different from other years?” I believe there is power in raising up questions even when we do not have all the answers. It becomes an open invitation for people to add their stories, thoughts, and questions. It may even bring us closer together in seeking ways we can each do our part in the ongoing process of God’s ultimate redemption and the dream of peace.

Chag Kasher v’Sameach! May you have a zissen Pesach!

Rabbi Michael Singer

 --NOTE:  My colleague Rabbi Joshua Kulp (Conservative Yeshiva in Jerusalem). came across the following while preparing for some teaching on Pesah.  It is a Haggadah from Kibbutz Beeri, 1961.  The translation is beneath it.

Translation: How different this night is from all other nights? For on all other nights our settlements were subject to siege and surrounding us were enemies calling for our destruction. Tonight we dwell safely in our homes, and our settlements are flourishing.

How different this night is from all other nights? On all other nights we would prepare the festival of our freedom while subject to the mercy of foreign rulers. Now we are free in our land of freedom, the State of Israel.

 

 

 

 

 

MARCH 2024

Purim: A Lesson in Transforming Hard Memories into Meaningful Purpose

When we think deeply about the story of Purim it is hard not to be confronted by Jewish history with its memories of antisemitism persecutions, blood libels, pogroms, and the Shoah. Throughout our history we all too often celebrated this holiday while living in the midst of the viciousness and dehumanization of antisemitism.  Once again we are in the midst of a tidal wave of hate. A denial of our history, our right to live and worship in peace, and the scapegoats of twisted conspiracies and libels. Yet, when we look at the last chapter of Megillat Esther we uncover a secret to Jewish resilience. Instead of merely celebrating the downfall of our enemies (which is certainly there) we also find a means to transform our pain and suffering into the lessening of others pain and suffering. In essence the secret is: taking our collective experience (our memories), internalizing them into a wellspring of empathy for others, and then working hard for a better future.

The Megillah commands us to give gifts to the poor (matanot l’evyonim) and share mishloach manot (at least 2 baked/food items with friends and strangers). Now I know you are tempted to say, “Well of course Rabbi! Aren’t most holidays: They tried to kill us, they failed, let’s eat!” but what I find extraordinary is that while we are commanded in the seudat Purim (festive meal of Purim), we are particularly commanded to celebrate by sharing what we have with others. With these acts our Jewish tradition transforms hate and antisemitism which diminish the human spirit and the image of God into lifting up the human spirit and sanctifying the Divine through caring for the most vulnerable. Further we turn the anguish and pain we feel under oppression and its concomitant human suffering into acts of loving-kindness, compassion, and healing. We transform our hard and difficult memories into meaningful purpose.

No, we will not naively wish away or erase the hate, bigotry, antisemitism, and all of the other isms which debase the sanctity of human beings and continue to bring us and others suffering in this world. But, what we can do is to fight back against them by taking our experiences and using them to raise up human dignity with love, respect, and sacred honor. We are not powerless, nor will we stand by and cede this world to evil schemers and their malevolent followers. Our stubborn moral courage (ometz lev) is a bane to those who seek to diminish and destroy us and the vision of a free and just world. And while we have every right to turn our backs on the legions of people whose moral compass is shamefully askew (being polite), instead we continue to hallow God’s name by sharing our blessings with others and working to care for the most vulnerable in our society. Our response has been and continues to be - tireless advocates for human dignity, believers in love and life, and eternal caretakers of the flames of Divine/human hope & redemption.

So as we celebrate Purim by cheering for Esther and Mordechai and booing Haman, may we use our collective and individual memories as fuel to continue our sacred work in building a better world together.

Chag Purim Sameach!

February 2024

10 Idlers: The Necessity of Community

One of the blessings of sitting together on Shabbat studying Talmud is the magical way the text comes alive in our discussions and through our questions. Time and time again the debates and discussions from 180 _BCE to 500 _CE (Tannaitic & Amoraic eras) and the lessons and questions they raise (both answered and unanswered) shed light on our own time and personal/communal lives. In one particular discussion our Brith Sholom Talmud learner’s read that a place cannot be considered a “city” - no matter how large the population - unless there are 10 idlers (read: retirees) who come to the synagogue and devote themselves to the needs of the community. (Megillah 5a) Why is this particular factor so important as the determinate of “city” designation status? The discussion in the Talmud centers around which day Purim should fall and the Megillah can be read in cities versus villages - the 14th or 15th of Adar*. However the deeper meaning of this metric is in itself profound. While we think of cities generally by the metric of population, our Sages think instead of the level of engagement people have in the life of community. In essence, we are not defined merely as individuals floating around in a geographical area but at our best a connected “beloved” community working together.

I believe this wisdom is central to many of the challenges we are facing as Jews and as Americans today. We have learned for years and especially during the pandemic that no matter how “connected” we are technologically - people need physical community. Study after study has shown that our children (and adults) feel more lonely and isolated despite social media and electronic connectivity. Playing together, negotiating social experiences with others, developing relationships with neighbors, and regularly attending religious worship all help widen the network of people we engage with, deepen our connections, and support our bodies, minds, and souls. Far too many live in the echo chambers of specific media channels/sites, have too few meaningful relationships with those who are different from them, or have forgotten how to respectfully and compassionately have civil conversations - let alone work together with people  who come with different life experiences, opinions, and needs. Additionally, communities contain members in various points of their lives. For some, it may be the ability to devote more time to the needs of the community and for others it may be the need for more of the community’s support. Either way, there is a place for everyone to be engaged. The centrality of belonging to community is a fundamental acknowledgment that we are social beings who depend and need one another.

Community spaces, like Brith Sholom provide necessary opportunities for people to feel that no matter what - they belong and are loved for who they are. It is a sacred space that allows people to connect across differences - whether that be age, financial/social status, political opinion, and yes, even religious levels of observance. Sacred communities can be messy but that is the fertile holy ground for learning how to live with each other. Recognizing that when you are engaged in community - you are part of the family - loved, needed, and connected with something larger and greater than ourselves. We need more spaces open to developing deep relationships, supporting each other, building shared purpose while encouraging healthy dialogue, debate, and in the end constructive collaboration and compromise.

In fact, when we feel secure, loved, and connected there is greater space in our hearts to be openminded, be willing to work on behalf of community (both small and large), and acknowledge the holiness and worth of ourselves and others. As we continue our Brith Sholom Centennial celebration -  our sacred community is needed more than ever. I believe each of us needs the care, strength, love, and support that this community can provide. Also, I believe that we need a place where our engagement, contributions, and diversity of talents can be used for something positive in the world, impactful, and deeply appreciated. The Sages of the Talmud recognized the necessity of community for the wellbeing of our individual souls and the soul of our society.

•Note: This year there are 2 months of Adar. Stay tuned next month (Adar II) for Purim!

January 2024

Never the Less We Will Celebrate - L’Chaim!
When we think of superpowers, we tend to imagine super strength, speed, reflexes, and the ability to fly to name just a few. But for our Jewish people what comes to my mind is moral courage - ometz lev (Literally: Strength of Heart). The moral courage to have faced centuries of antisemitic persecution, exile, and death while still affirming our faith in God and in life itself. Whether it is celebrating holidays, life-cycle events, and community milestones - our people have shown a resilience, defiance, and moral courage to withstand the abyss of humanity’s depravity and evil.

In all of these centuries, we have not stopped singing God’s praise in Hallel, welcoming the stranger, celebrating new love under the chuppah, or writing new chapters of living Torah. We have contributed to every community of humanity we have been allowed to flourish in and we have gathered the belongings we could carry on our backs when we were forced to leave. I believe that if God did not bless us somehow with this extraordinary gift of ometz lev, we would have been counted among the civilizations and faiths that have become extinct, a footnote in human history for academic interest. Yet, we are very much alive! And we will continue to celebrate all of God’s blessings that everyday make our lives precious and meaningful.

Each morning we recite Psalm 30 which is both a plea of need for God’s mercy and help, a reminder of God’s saving power, and a call for us to fulfill our mission to praise, labor, and love.

“…Hear me, Lord. Be gracious, be my help.

You turned my mourning into dancing.

You changed my sackcloth into robes of joy

that I might sing Your praise unceasingly,

that I might thank You, Lord my God, forever.”

 

We Jews are united in a common destiny. We stand firm in the midst of the rising darkness of antisemitism not seen in generations. Our hearts are broken as we mourn with our brothers and sisters in Israel (Jew & non-Jew) at the evil perpetrated against us. But we will not stop singing, we will not stop celebrating, we will not stop dancing, and we will not stop living as Jews.

As we kick-off Brith Sholom’s centennial celebration this month - we have traveled as a community through many ups and downs together. In each generation there were moments of darkness, challenges, and distress but there were also countless moments of blessing, joy, growth, connection, and love. What we as Congregation Brith Sholom collectively possess is the ometz lev of a Jewish people who continues to raise a glass to Life! - L’Chaim!

We are grateful to God for having created so many incredible people whose lives were and are linked together in the history of our Holy congregation. Ours is both a story of a particular Jewish community but also a testament of a worldwide Jewish people that is vibrant, filled with heart, dedicated to the performance of Mitzvot, and looking to the future with faith, love, and hope. We will rise up together - to sing with full hearts the Shehechiyanu blessing in gratitude for reaching 100 years as a Brith Sholom community and looking forward to the next hundred!

December 2023

Something Worth Fighting For

The Book of Maccabees describes the hard fought 20 year war (167 - 141 BCE) for Jewish independence in great detail. There were sadly many lives lost including innocent men, women, and children. In fact, 4 out of the 5 famous sons of Matitiyahu (Mattathias) did not live to see the end of the war. Indeed all war is horrible and comes at tremendous loss and sacrifice. But, for our people what they were fighting for meant something even greater - the preservation and survival of our Jewish faith and to live as a free people in our homeland. This was not a war of choice - it was a war of necessity, a just war. Today we recall the heroism of the Maccabees who with God’s help overcame seemingly insurmountable odds to free us from the tyranny of Antiochus and his allies - the holiday of Hanukkah.

When the holiday first came into being it was mostly a military celebration tied to the Hasmonean dynasty (beginning with Shimon the last remaining of Mattitiyahu’s sons). It was only later that the Rabbis of the Mishnah reimagined the holiday as a religious one - connecting the rededication of the Temple in Jerusalem with both the story of the miracle of the golden Menorah and creation of the home based ritual of lighting a hanukkiah. The Rabbis (no fans of the Hasmonean dynasty) sought to connect God’s saving power to the establishment of the 2nd Jewish Commonwealth and emphasized the spiritual aspects of the holiday. Light to dispel the darkness (both literally and figuratively), freedom over tyranny, and hope over despair. Maoz Tzur (Rock of Ages).

Today our people are once again engaged in fighting for our right to exist. This war is taking place physically in Israel but also throughout the world. Hamas’s brutality was not only to murder Israelis in cold blood, take men, women, and children as hostages, but to make a point that Israel has no right to exist and that Jews will never be safe in Israel or anywhere. The timing was not a coincidence. Israel and Saudi Arabia were on the verge of establishing open diplomatic relations which could have changed the Middle East. Iran needing to bolster the delegitimization of Israel, used its proxy Hamas and Hezbollah to carry out its aim. This idea is further echoed in the heart of the anti-Zionist movement which seeks to undermine any claim of our people to the Land of Israel. We are cast as “colonizers”, “oppressors”, “genocidal”, “occupiers”, and “aparthiedists.” Hamas and its anti-Zionist supporters believe that “resistance by any means” is morally permissible because Israel has no legitimate right to exist and by extension neither do Jews. Those who chant, “From the River to the Sea” knowingly or ignorantly are reinforcing the idea that there is no place on the face of the Earth that Jews can live free and independent - the determiners of our own destiny and a nation among nations. Archeology be damned. History rewritten. Disinformation the new truth.

Against this stands the armed forces of Israel - the IDF. Made up of women and men who are Israel’s citizens - Jew, Christian, Muslim, Baha’i, and Druze. 360,000 reservists who left their jobs, fields, homes, schools, and families. They fight for their parents, grandparents, sisters, brothers, children, spouses, and for all of the people of Israel. They fight to root out the evil which left unchecked and undeterred attacks the innocent, has taken hostages, and holds its own people hostage to a cynical belief that hate and fear will destroy Israel. Rather then building a possible model of a successful Palestinian state they built terror tunnels, rocket factories, and the misery of their own people to fuel more terrorists. Both Israelis, Jews, and all human beings around the world can both mourn the loss of innocent Palestinians and those lost on October 7th. The loss of God’s children is a loss to all who have humanity.

The IDF is not in this fight alone. We are also part of the efforts to defend Israel’s right to  exist and our rights as Jews around the world. When speaking with our sister synagogue (Chemdat Yamim) in Kiryat Bialik they said the support they needed most was for us to tell Israel’s story. To be a moral voice in the world for our people and to explain to others who may be misinformed or ignorant of the truth - why Israel is fighting and what it is fighting for. Additionally, we have stood in the last six years amongst a vicious tide of antisemitism that has both shocked us and forced us to make difficult security changes to our everyday lives. Beginning more than a decade ago in Europe the rise of antisemitism has not only reached American shores but has now reached levels unthinkable in our history. From left to right - antisemitic ideas have spread like wildfire over social media and have become sadly ingrained and normalized globally.

We are not helpless in this fight. The power of gathering together was deeply felt at the March in Washington last week where 290,000 people gathered to show our support for Israel, to demand the return of the hostages, and against antisemitism. But a march is not the only thing we can do. We must continue to speak out, talk to our neighbors, demand safety for our college students, and continue to advocated for the release of the hostages. By kindling the hanukkiah, we keep the light of faith and hope alive. We will be undaunted in the practice of our Jewish tradition, refusing to give in to fear. When we give presents and getl let us also contribute to the efforts of Israeli and Jewish organizations that reflect our values. (Magen David Adom, Masorti, ADL, Jewish Federation, etc.)

I leave you with one final thought. I was recently asked two questions - 1) When do you think the war will end? 2) When will we be able to return to the days of going to the synagogue without needing a guard? To these questions I have no specific dates - but I do have an answer. It is one that has been passed through the centuries, a hope and vision for us and the world - “they shall beat their swords into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks. Nation shall not take up sword against nation; they shall never again know war.” (Isaiah 2:4) And “Everyone will sit under their own vine and under their own fig tree, and no one will make them afraid, for the Lord Almighty has spoken.” (Micah 4:4)  To this may we all say, Bimharah v’yameinu (quickly in our days) and Amen!

Chag Orim Sameach! Happy Hanukkah!

 

November 2023

Shulchan Aruch - The Set Table

As I write this article approximately 1,400 men, women and children - young and old - brutally murdered in their homes and communities - all of the Jewish people mourn. We cannot even begin to process the enormity of the loss and heartbreak. Children orphaned with one 13 year old saying Kaddish for his whole family. While for others, an entire family laid to rest by neighbors and friends. As the days pass, the stories of each of these precious neshamot (souls) will be told. Entire worlds destroyed by vile hate and evil. There is both much to be said and much to leave in the silence of grief about this terrible moment. But, it is the 222 hostages held by Hamas in Gaza that I wish to focus on here.

Throughout our long history, Jews have been kidnapped and held prisoner by our enemies. The first recorded incident appears early in the Torah when Abraham’s nephew Lot is taken captive. Abraham leads a small group of warriors to free Lot from captivity. In an interesting textual anomaly - the verse changes Lot’s status from nephew to brother. “And he brought back all the goods, and also brought back his brother Lot, and his goods, and the women also, and the people.” (Genesis 14:16) I believe this teaches that no matter the relationship to those held hostage - they become our brothers and sisters. Abraham’s actions remind us that we do whatever we can to free our family.

Over the centuries to follow, Jewish law wrestles with the implications of paying ransom for pidyon shvuy’im (redemption of captives). On the one hand, the community leadership rightly fears that if the price of redeeming captives is too high - it might encourage our enemies to take more captives. On the other hand, the Rabbis place the redeeming of captives as one of the highest mitzvot, even greater than building a synagogue or caring for the poor. They apply numerous Commandments from the Torah in connection of redeeming captives. As Maimonides teaches:

            “The redemption of captives held for ransom takes precedence over sustaining the poor

           and clothing them. You do not find a mitzvah greater than the redemption of

            captives, for captivity is in the same category as famine, drought, or exposure, and one

            stands in danger to one's life. One who averts his eyes from redeeming [the captive]

            transgresses [the commandment], (Deut. 15:7) Do not harden your heart and shut your  

            hand, and (Lev. 19:16) Do not stand upon the blood of your neighbor, and (Lev. 25:53)   

            He shall not rule ruthlessly over him in your sight, and nullifies the commandment (Deut.

            15:8) You must open your hand, and the commandment, (Lev. 25:36) Let him live by

            your side as your kinsman, and (Lev. 19:18) Love your fellow as yourself, and (Proverbs

            24:11) If you refrained from rescuing those taken off to death, [those condemned to

            slaughter--if you say, "We knew nothing of it," surely He who fathoms hearts will

            discern], and many such sayings. You cannot find a greater mitzvah than the

            redemption of captives.”     (Mishnah Torah, Gifts to the Poor 8:10)

The State of Israel has also lived by these moral teachings - redeeming Gilad Shalit in 2011, an Israeli soldier held by Hamas for 5 years for over 1,000 Palestinian prisoners. It was a difficult and gut wrenching choice - one Jew for so many prisoners (some with blood on their hands). But the message is also clear to the families of Israel - each Israeli life is priceless (Jew, Druze, Christian, Muslim, etc). We stand for the sanctity of life. As the Talmud teaches, “To save a life, is as if you save a whole world.”

Now we face an even greater calamity - 222 Israelis (and others) held captive by Hamas in Gaza. What should Israel do? How do we free them? How do we wage war against the evil of Hamas while they use them and their own people as human shields? I like many of you have no easy answers. It is one terrible choice vs. another terrible choice. However, there is one thing I feel is within our capacity to do - Not Remain Silent or Indifferent. Beginning in Tel Aviv and since replicated around the world there are Shabbat tables set with 200+ seats and the pictures/names of those who are held prisoner by Hamas in Gaza. The tables are set with plates, napkins, glasses, sippy-cups, Kiddush wine, challot, flowers, and candles representing the empty seats around Israeli tables. A set table is called shulchan aruch in Hebrew. It is also the name of the primary code of Jewish law compiled by Rabbi Joseph Karo in 1563. Why? Because a set table is the focal point of every Jewish home. It is the manifestation of the mikdash ma’at, the little Holy Temple, where God’s presence joins with families to celebrate the vibrancy of Jewish life. From Shabbat dinners to Passover seders, from a place of learning Torah, to meals of condolence - for Judaism the table is a place of honor, love, and sacredness. The image below of a shulchan aruch that is empty of its family is heart wrenching but an important symbol of the brokenness we as Jews feel without all of our family together. The world is often quick to equivocate, diminish Jewish suffering, and paint us in demeaning and dehumanizing ways. Yet, no country would stand by as its citizens are murdered, taken captive, and with its cities under rocket attack. Seeing the set table is a way to remind the world and us of the human lives that are at stake and the evil against whom we fight. The families of the hostages will not relent, nor should we - until each is reunited with their families and returned home we pray in ”refuat hanefesh v’refuat haguf -health of body and spirit.”

 

October 2023

Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav and the Sukkah of Joy & Hope

You may or may not have seen recently in the news, that thousands of Breslover Chasidim petitioned the government of Ukraine to be allowed to travel from Israel (and around the world) to Uman. Each year they travel to the grave of Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav for Rosh HaShanah and immerse themselves in the spiritual legacy of one of Chasidism’s most revered rebbes. It is all too easy to ridicule and think they are completely meshuggah to enter into a war zone. Yet it is amidst the horrific and tragic war on Ukraine by Russia, that these chasidim focus their spiritual hearts towards a world that can remade whole again. From sorrow to joy, from hate to love, and from brokenness to peace. As Rabbi Nachman taught, “If you believe that you can damage, then believe that you can fix…Gevalt!!! Never give up hope.” (Lekutei Moharan) Rabbi Nachman keenly understood the need for joy and hope against the backdrop of our sometimes hard and fragile world.

As we enter the holiday of Sukkot and its themes of hospitality, thanksgiving, and peace, may we too focus our spiritual energy on tikkun olam - healing our broken world. May we be strengthened in the knowledge that God has given us the tools and blessings necessary to bring joy, love, and peace into our lives. It is now up to us to act with determined courage and resilience to use the blessings for God’s sacred purpose. And so join me in adding Rabbi Nachman’s Prayer for Peace into your Sukkat Shlomecha (Sukkah of Peace).

May it be Your will,
Holy One, our God, our ancestors’ God,
that you erase war and bloodshed from the world
and in its place draw down
a great and glorious peace
so that nation shall not lift up sword against nation
neither shall they learn war any more.

Rather, may all the inhabitants of the earth
recognize and deeply know
this great truth:
that we have not come into this world
for strife and division
nor for hatred and rage, 
nor provocation and bloodshed.

We have come here only
to encounter You,
eternally blessed One.

And so,
we ask your compassion upon us;
raise up, by us, what is written:

I shall place peace upon the earth
and you shall lie down safe and undisturbed
and I shall banish evil beasts from the earth
and the sword shall not pass through your land.
but let justice come in waves like water
and righteousness flow like a river,
for the earth shall be full
of the knowledge of the Holy One
as the waters cover the sea.

So may it be.
And we say:
Amen.

(Translation by Rabbi Deborah Silver.  The quotations are: Leviticus 26:6, Amos 5:24 and Isaiah 11:9)

Moadim L’Simchah – A joyous and meaningful Sukkot!

September 2023

God’s Relentless Hope in Us Yom Kippur

O Lord, if you took into account all of our failings and sins who could stand before you? There is no one who is blameless and yet in Your love and mercy you have shown us a path to forgiveness, self-growth, and redemp􀀁on. Becoming perfect is not our goal as we are instead challenged to become the very best of ourselves in the limited years You give us. You have never lost the eternal flame of hope in us and now call each of us to find the inner courage to turn back to the path of righteousness and life - to change for the be􀀂er. Thank you for giving us an opportunity to begin again on this Yom Kippur. (A medita􀀁on prayer of my own)

While this may not come as a shock to those who have heard me teach about Yom Kippur - I be-lieve that Yom Kippur is a solemn yet extremely joyous holiday. It is solemn in that each of us as individu-als and together as a community acknowledge our failings and sins with humility and remorse. We beat our chests in contri􀀁on and publicly and privately enumerate our misdeeds. Some􀀁mes these are uninten-􀀁onal (b’shogeig) missteps and mistakes and other 􀀁mes made with our full knowledge and inten􀀁on (b’mayzid).  The solemnity of Yom Kippur requires honest soul searching into the parts of ourselves which have led us to ac􀀁ons we now regret. We stand accountable for the choices we make and we stand toge-ther as a community in support of one another as we seek atonement.  

And/also, Yom Kippur is joyous as it embodies the idea that God forgives. Our tradi􀀁on teaches that God does not desire the death of the sinner but instead teshuvah - our return back to God, back to life. Yom Kippur is a celebra􀀁on of God’s eternal hope in us - if you will a cheerleader, roo􀀁ng for team humanity to live up to the poten􀀁al God knows we possess. This is why, despite all reason and logic, God’s love and compassion overwhelm God’s strict jus􀀁ce resul􀀁ng in a clean slate, a new beginning, a precious opportunity to remake ourselves, our lives, and our world. 

I fully acknowledge that the process of teshuvah when taken seriously is not easy. It is hard to break with bad habits. It is hard to be honest with ourselves about our flaws and sins. It is hard even when we want to change to actually change. And yes, it is hard to forgive others and ourselves especially when there is real hurt. And yet, as the “King of Pop”, Michael Jackson (who wrestled his own demons) once sang: 

I'm star􀀁ng with the man in the mirror 
I'm asking him to change his ways 
And no message could have been any clearer If you wanna make the world a be􀀂er place Take a look at yourself and then make a change

The Yamim Noraim (Days of Awe) are God’s gi􀀃 of hope in us that we can change for the be􀀂er.   “On Rosh HaShanah it is wri􀀂en, and on Yom Kippur it is sealed.” May God’s mercy on Yom Kippur set us free to pursue the best of ourselves filled with the joy of being forgiven and once again returning to the paths of righteousness, love, and peace.   G’mar Cha􀀁mah Tovah – May you be completely sealed for a happy, healthy, and sweet New Year!

August 2023

Indiana Jones and the Quest for Teshuvah
(Note: Possible Movie Spoilers below)

             From the very first Indiana Jones movie, Raiders of the Lost Ark, I was hooked. Uncovering ancient artifacts, punching Nazis, pithy humor, pursuit of love, punching Nazis (I know I am repeating this but…), solving ancient puzzles, constant danger, chase scenes, romance, and the hero in the end victorious. Yet, there was something deeper in the last Indiana Jones movie: The Dial of Destiny that touched me. Yes, the iconic John Williams theme music was still there, as were the quest for ancient artifacts, punching Nazis, etc… but what struck me was that the deeper theme was about grappling with change and teshuvah.

            Without giving too much away, we find Indiana Jones in 1969 as a man out of time who is wrestling with changes in himself as an older man (Harrison Ford is 80), retirement from Hunter College, the music, protests, and moon landing to name just a few. Yet, even deeper is Indiana Jones’s grappling with the scars of his past. The impacts of choices made, relationships neglected, promises unkept, and enough regrets to fill an ark. In the midst of this internal crisis, Indiana Jones is thrust into saving his goddaughter and the world by stopping a Nazi scientist (used by the U.S. government for his rocketry) from finding an ancient time machine to alter the history of WWII. It is here that I believe the movie writers find a stroke of genius. Is the answer to life’s trials and tribulations, our mistakes, our pain, and our losses to go back in time? Is history meant to be changed or at its core are we meant to change, seek forgiveness and grow?

            For the Nazi scientist and at first for Indiana Jones as well, the prospect of undoing the past, correcting the “mistakes”, would make their lives and the world “better”. The Nazi scientist never grows to accept that the world and he must change. That time moves forward whether we want it to or not. That our frailty, mortality, and imperfections are some of the fundamental aspects of our humanity. Therefore, he never engages in a process of admitting his own mistakes and sins, seeking forgiveness and repentance, and as a result never does the hard work of teshuvah leading to transformation and redemption.

            Indiana Jones eventually however comes face to face with his own failings and admits them out loud. Along the way he encounters past friends and family who help him along the journey. He feels regret and grief but he also picks himself up to try to make amends by doing what is good and right. Even still the power of avoidance of loss and regret almost overtakes our hero whose greatest doubt is whether he is worthy of forgiveness, love, and peace. (I won’t give away the ending)

            As we enter the month of Elul our tradition asks us to look back at the last year and indeed reflect on our lives. It recognizes that we often carry with us the mistakes, failings, and scars from the choices we have made. It is a burden that when combined with the heartbreak and losses of life could have us replaying the past over and over instead of changing and living in the present. Our faith challenges us to step forward into life, to take an accounting of the past but with an eye to the future. We cannot use a time machine to avert our destiny but instead must take ownership of it by growing and changing, by bettering ourselves, and seeking the grace, forgiveness, and love of others, of ourselves, and God. No the journey of teshuvah is not an easy one, nor does life leave us unscarred, but we are blessed too with the power of forgiveness, love, and the opportunity to grow and change no matter our age. In my opinion the movie could have been titled: Indiana Jones and the Quest for Teshuvah.

            May the month of Elul and the blasts of the shofar each day inspire each of us on our life’s adventure toward teshuvah and change and towards forgiveness, peace, and love.

 

June 2023

Blessed to Be in the Middle -- Jewish Tradition and Modernity

            One of the classic tensions we face as Jews is trying to live in two worlds. The world of our Tradition, exemplified by the wealth of Torah and Jewish law, prayers, and customs - which are deeply rooted and passed down to us for millennia; and the world of Modernity, exemplified by the larger culture, technologies, and society where we find ourselves. This is not a new phenomena but instead a wrestling of conscience and behavior that every Jewish community throughout the ages has faced. Historically, Jewish communities have navigated between three responses to these competing worlds: 1) Resistance (ie.Walling themselves off), 2) Accommodation (Adapting and melding from each world together), and 3) Assimilation (Giving up usually on Tradition in favor of fitting into the larger society/times). It should be noted that sometimes the choice of an individual or community depended on external forces - particularly oppression and anti-Semitism which limited access to the larger society.

            A look around the Jewish world today can be telling. Some Jewish communities like the Hareidim or Ultra-Orthodox generally shun modernity and secular culture as best they can and live in close-knit groups and enclaves. On the other extreme, there are some Jews whose only connection to Jewish life may be gastronomical or personal through self-identification but without either religious or communal engagement. This is exacerbated by ignorance of the wealth of Torah, Jewish Tradition, and its values or the through ignorance of all that science, secular scholarship, and the gifts Modernity have to offer. Finally, there is the tricky middle ground of accommodation. Navigating how to incorporate Jewish values, identity, and living while balancing being part of the larger social and cultural world. This accommodational perspective often takes the very best from the larger society and culture and gives it a new Jewish twist or connects it with a previous Jewish value or tradition. There is a back-and-forth conversation and interplay between Tradition and Change and between Tradition and Modernity. From Yeshiva University’s motto: Torah u’Mada (Jewish learning & secular learning) to the Conservative Movement’s belief in Tradition and Change - these centrist views since they compromises are less clear and delineated. They therefore are inherently filled with tension between the two worlds. How much to compromise? How much to hold on to Tradition? Which values and ideas should we conserve and which to change? 

            I believe this tension and its corresponding conversation/dialogue is both necessary and what lies at the heart of Conservative Judaism. While I recognize that either extreme is easier (to Resist/Wall off or to Assimilate) for me there is holiness in the wrestling, growth, and creative integration of them both. We can love both our Tradition and the larger world. In fact, I believe we are continuing down the path the classical Rabbis envisioned when they created a Talmudic tradition of dynamic Torah. It is a tradition that reflects each generations additions, commentaries, and customs while also taking into account the changing places, times, and needs of the Jewish community. It is a tradition that seeks to understand God’s revelation and what it means for us today while being rooted in our history and timeless values. I also believe that it would be stagnating for our Tradition to be insular, locked only into knowledge, ideas and practices within ourselves. Yet just as poor for if we remove ourselves from the life of our world, its diverse peoples/cultures, and scientific and academic achievements. We were given Torah to be a “light unto the nations,” not to cloister it away and suffocate it into irrelevance.

            Yet, for many in rabbinic and Jewish communal roles we fear assimilation and its impact on the quality and quantity of sustainable Jewish life. If we assimilate and forget who we are? - what a tremendous loss. What no tyrant or oppressor could do to us - we would inflict upon ourselves through indifference, neglect, and ignorance. To be absorbed by the ways of those around us without the wisdom and guidance of our Tradition to impact our lives and sanctify our days. As Ahad Ha’am famously taught, “It is not that the Jewish people has kept Shabbat, but that the Shabbat has kept the Jewish people.” It is not hard to see the Surgeon General of the United States warning about the growing “epidemic of loneliness” to understand that as the civil pillar of religious affiliation and the community it helps foster weakens - more people feel unmoored, purposeless, individualistic, and as consequence alone in the world.

            Facing both the extremes of resistance and assimilation, Conservative/Masorti Judaism and (I also believe Modern Orthodoxy) must not fail. This coming December (1st - 5th) the United Synagogue, Rabbinical Assembly, and the Cantors Assembly will be coming together for a convention (see below). I wish to encourage as many Brith Sholom families to participate. It will be a time to meet Conservative/Masorti Jews from around the world, learn together, pray together, and recommit ourselves to strengthening the middle path of living in both the world of Jewish Tradition & the world of modernity. In this endeavor we are not alone but part of a larger Movement committed to this path

Early-bird registration is now open for our 2023 Conservative/Masorti Shabbaton & Convening - T'nuah B'yahad: Building Our Movement Together! Join us from December 1st-5th, 2023 at the Baltimore Marriott Waterfront.

 

 

We will gather around our shared values with others who care about the future of Conservative/Masorti Judaism: rabbis, cantors, Jewish professionals, congregational leaders, synagogue members, Conservative/Masorti leaders, teens, young adults, and more!

At our Convening we will hear from scholars, experts, and professionals who will offer us tools for action, share our diverse perspectives and experiences, and work together to build our Conservative/Masorti Movement.

 

We will:

• LEARN models and approaches to take home and use to strengthen our own communities
• FEEL a sense of hope and enthusiasm for the future of our communities and the Conservative/Masorti movement as a whole
• DEEPEN our understanding of the value and role of the Conservative/Masorti movement for ourselves as individuals, as representatives of organizations and congregations, and in the broader world
• RENEW our investment in our home institutions

May 2023

A Dance of Words, Hearts, and Holiness: Celebrating our Adult B’nei Mitzvah

As we approach the celebration of another Adult B’nei Mitzvah Class (Parshat Emor May 6th) reading from the Torah, I am filled with both pride in their accomplishment and grateful for the beauty of a sacred ritual that sees the passing down of our most precious gift - Torah. Jewish tradition celebrates the re-enactment of the giving of the Torah by the chanting and the study of it each and every week. Here Jews are asked to sing the words of God’s revelation at Mt. Sinai and in doing so recommit themselves to the covenant of mitzvot which connects the Divine with the Jewish people.

For Adult B’nei Mitzvah students this is a two year process that begins by learning how to read the Hebrew language - starting for some with Aleph - Bet. Despite the difficulty in understanding Hebrew (and Biblical Hebrew at that) the language itself holds layers of particular meaning and nuance that no translation can fully capture. It was kept alive in the face of centuries of persecution and exile - an eternal link from one generation to the next. No matter where we as Jews ended up, the Hebrew of our sacred texts and prayers went with us.                      

Our Adult B’nei Mitzvah Class then learned the system of grammatical markings called te’amim (or trope) which gives each word and sentence of the Torah its proper accent and contextual meaning. After all, reading English without periods, commas, semi-colons can change the understanding of a sentence profoundly. (ie. Come, let’s eat Grandma! or Come let’s eat, Grandma.) The te’amim have a music that connects words or separates them (a rest) by degrees of varying strengths. This determines the sense of the sentence.

Together with the Hebrew what is created and re-created is a powerful dance of words that are meant to inscribe themselves on our hearts. For me there is added kedushah (Holiness) in bearing witness to the Midrash (on the plural use of the word kolot - voices) told about the revelation at Mt. Sinai - that when God spoke to the Jewish people in giving the Ten Commandments, each person heard God’s voice in their own voice. So when the Torah is chanted by people with different voices, life experiences, and unique souls - each one represents the miracle of the Holy One’s voice(s) again revealing the gift of Torah to the Jewish community by means of each and every Torah chanter.

Over the two years, we explored the spiritual meaning of the Siddur (Order of Prayers) including the Sh’ma and Amidah, studied the weekly Torah portion, and wrestled with questions of theology, Jewish practice, and the life-cycle. While each member of the class learned together, it is also a deeply personal journey of growth and introspection. It took dedication, perseverance, and a little bit of good humor to prepare for their special day. One is not a b’nei mitzvah but rather one becomes b’nei mitzvah. At its best, becoming b’nei mitzvah is a process of intentionality by which a Jew accepts upon themselves the Mitzvot (Commandments) and a lifetime of learning, spiritual growth, and connection to God, our people, and our tradition.

As we continue to count the Omer towards the celebration of Matan Torah (Giving of the Torah) on Shavuot, may this community be blessed to celebrate more b’nei mitzvah both teen and adult, welcome spiritual seekers on their journeys, increase our learning of Torah so that we may perform more mitzvot with kindness, generosity, and intentionality, thereby hallowing the name of God, who is the source of our strength and our blessings. “It is a tree of life to those who grasp it, and all of its supporters and happy.”

Mazel Tov to Roberta Kaplan, Izzy Studzienko, and Gale Maleskey on becoming B’nei Mitzvah!

April 2023

What ChatGPT Can Never Understand About The Seder and Why It Matters

This Passover Brought to You by ChatGPT? What A.I. Can Never Understand About The Seder and Why It Matters

It seems surreal for me to have to say that, “This CBS bulletin article was not written by ChatGPT” because more and more of what we may encounter online and over social media may be generated by Artificial Intelligence (A.I.) and not another human being. I have friends who are excited to bring to their seder - a ChatGPT telling of the Passover story. Sure, we have many types of haggadot and it is always fun to bring a new “voice” to the table when telling the story but I feel one key component will always be missing from the ChatGPT version - actual feeling & empathy. Whether it is a particular part of the story, a favorite song, eating the bitter herbs, or the people around the seder table - the heart of recalling the Exodus from Egypt is about connecting us emotionally to one another, recalling the horrors of slavery, and the miracle of God’s redemption and the promise/potential of freedom.

We are meant to internalize this story into our own life stories and see ourselves as going forth from Egypt. To succeed this process requires an emotional investment in human story-telling, the cuisine, seder guests, and overall human intentionality. The Rabbis of the Mishnah did not intend the Haggadah as a rote script but instead as a helpful users guide to spur the conversations around the seder table around deep questions of human experience. The process as well as the context matter. For example: What forms did oppression in Egypt look like? How are these forms still present in our world and lives? What does it mean to celebrate freedom? What does freedom mean for us? Or others who may not yet be free? How do we pass important values and core stories of our identity on to the next generation? How do we incorporate new perspectives and stories into tradition? What is God’s role in our lives and world? What are our human responsibilities for the state of our lives/world? Why should we feel pain/sadness for those that oppressed us? Can those that sin or commit evil ever be redeemed as well? How does welcoming the stranger, the poor, and those in need to our seder tables translate into our community at large? Are there miracles today and if so how do we acknowledge them? What are we grateful to God for? What are we stilling waiting/wanting from God? These example questions are only a small drop in the bucket of questions we can engage in around the seder table.

 Indeed the Haggadah gives multiple access points to eliciting questions from those around the table. Whether it is pointing at the seder plate, talking about different types of children, or removing wine/grape juice in remembrance of the plagues from our cup of joy. No matter how good ChatGPT and A.I. become they will unlikely ever feel the depths of our human experience. And this my friends is precisely what we each are commanded to do in order for the holiday of Passover to connect us to God, our history, and indeed our future. It is about engaging our very real Jewish souls. Yes, chicken soup with matzo balls is part of it!

ChatGPT and A.I. in general can mimic human output but the the 1’s and 0’s cannot replace the emotional and spiritual memories we create. Nor can the A.I. resolve the ethical levels of complexity in our story, the kavannah involved in reciting the blessings which acknowledge God’s presence, or connect the unique souls around the table into the tapestry of Jewish life. This is why, though it may be difficult and awkward at times, it is important that this story comes from us. The telling, questioning, debates and discussions are helpful to us as Jews and as human beings. It therefore must also be authentically ours. In an upcoming Adult Education series at CBS, Dr. George Diamond and I, hope to explore the ideas of Isaac Asimov, A.I. and Jewish Ethics. Yet, as we stand on the verge of Passover and an A.I. revolution there are many questions that we need to urgently ask and wrestle with as human beings. Around the seder table we reaffirm our basic humanity, God’s miracles, and our desire for a freer and better world for all.

Chag Kasher v’Sameach! A zissen Pesach to all.

March 2023

PURIM:  Fulfilling the Mitzvah of Joy

            There are five mitzvot that the Rabbis create regarding the holiday of Purim - 1) Hearing the Megillat Esther, 2) Having a feast, 3) Giving mishloach manot, 4) Gifts to those in need, and 5) To be joyous. Four of these mitzvot can be accomplished with relative ease and intentionality. Preparing the feast, going to the synagogue to hear the Megillah, baking or buying the goodies for mishloach manot, and even contributing and designating money, clothes, or food to those in need. Yet, the last mitzvah is complicated. We are commanded to be joyous. But, what if we just don’t feel in the celebratory mood? What if we are going through a difficult or challenging time in our lives? Can Jewish tradition really require us to be happy? Usually our tradition is highly understanding of a person’s emotional state. For example, a mourner does not enter the Kabbalat Shabbat service until after L’cha Dodi has been completed so as not to have to pretend to be joyous on Shabbat in the midst of their shiva period. And while the ideal performance of any positive mitzvah (the To Do’s) is supposed to be with kavanah (intentionality & spirit) the mitzvah still counts even if the kavanah is lacking. We can learn from this that God does not desire us to be fake or to feel something we don’t authentically feel. With regard to Purim and the mitzvah to be joyous however we are left with a dilemma.

            One way the Rabbis find a workaround is that they associate the drinking of wine with joy. By just pouring a glass of Pinot Grigio, the Rabbis believe you have fulfilled the mitzvah with a cup of joy (kos simkhah). As it says, “Wine gladdens the heart.” Unpacking this idea further, I really think what the Rabbis were thinking was that by immersing oneself in the trappings of the holiday could at the very least set a person up for a positive experience or temporary distraction from their doldrums. After all, dressing up in costumes, booing & grogging the wicked Haman, cheering for Mordechai & Esther, and imbibing drinks & eating delicious food can lift a person’s spirits. Laughter can be contagious. Often Jewish communities would employ musicians, puppeteers, magicians, and comics to entertain both the adults and children. Shpielen (plays and skits) would be performed and yes, “festive” beverages would flow providing a joyous escape for the community.

            Yet, maybe there is something else that goes even deeper. Some Jewish holidays can be observed alone. While not the ideal, Shabbat, Passover, Sukkot, etc. can minimally be observed. Purim however requires a connection to others. For example, the mitzvah is to hear the Megillah (and not to read it), or the giving of mishloach manot - which is meant to be a personal encounter. And while feasting and giving gifts to the poor can be fulfilled with a big meal and a tzedakah check - they too are meant to connect people together. From this I believe it is possible to derive that the joy which is commanded may not be an individual endeavor but a sense of communal joy and celebration even in the midst of individual sadness or anxiety. The profound decision to come out and join with the community on Purim therefore counts as an act of joy against despair. In essence, we may not feel like celebrating but we are with and count as part of the community as it celebrates.

            Finally, I think the underlying theme of the Purim holiday is meant as a challenge of faith for us. While God’s name does not appear in the Megillah, the holiday has been a source of hope and inspiration for our people despite our history. If we pause to think about all of the Jewish communities throughout our history who have been persecuted, exiled, and murdered, we would as Mordechai did - wear sackcloth and sit in ashes. Our eyes would run out of tears and our hearts would never cease to be broken. The story of Purim stands as a beacon of hope that the Jewish people and our faith will not go quietly into the night. As we sing, “When Adar enters our joy is doubled.” And while trite - “They tried to kill us, they failed, let’s eat!” rings true at least for Purim. For so many Jews throughout our history that we in the midst of suffering and loss - the holiday of Purim - was a safety value where the bad guys got their comeuppance. They could cheer for the heroes and boo the villains. Moreover, we could see the impact of difficult choices, bravery, and sacrifice that individuals could make which have the capacity to change the fate of all of us. We will not bow down or give up. We remain faithful and resilient despite our enemies best efforts to destroy us and our Jewish tradition. The mitzvah to be joyful therefore challenges us as individuals even when we do not feel it in our own lives at the moment. As difficult as it is, we shake our fist at the hurt, injustice, and loss while doing our best to look for healing and hope.

            My wish is that wherever you find yourself emotionally this Purim, that you know we have a community here at Brith Sholom that welcomes you, is here for you, and hopefully can add some sweetness and joy to your holiday and life.

Chag Purim Sameach!

February 2023

I am not sure when I first learned the song, “He’s Got The Whole World in His Hands” but I remember as a little kid really enjoying both the song and the hand gestures that went along with it. Sing with me:

He's got the whole world in His hands (x4)
He's got the itty bitty baby in His hands (x3)
He's got the whole world in His hands
He's got a-you and me brother in His hands (x3)
He's got the whole world in His hands

He's got a-you and me sister in His hands (x3)
He's got the whole world in His hands
He's got the whole world in His hands (x4)

Of course, I did not know until much later that this song came from the African-American spiritual tradition and can be seen through a Christological lens. For me however, the song always stirred feelings of God caring for everyone - a safety net of God’s love holding on to each of us and the world God created. That we are all a part of a much larger community of life and love that God has created and is constantly caring for and sustaining.      

But the rabbi in me can’t just leave the song at its peshat (simple meaning) but instead wants to look deeper. The question arises, “What are the implications if we believe the “whole world is in His hands?”” Therefore, I believe the song is more than a statement of belief about the nature of God’s world but a powerful challenge to us. It is a reminder to each of us that we should care for each other and for God’s world. The song while seemingly for children is instead also a message for adults - How are we acknowledging God in our world? and are we treating each other and it properly?

Jewish tradition asks these questions over and over and translates them into core aspects of Jewish practice, so we won’t forget. From the recitation of daily blessings (clothes the naked, straightens the bent, made us in God’s image, etc.), the weekly connection between Creation and Shabbat, and the many halachot (Jewish laws) about the care for animals and the protection of the environment. We even of course have a new year dedicated to the trees - Tu B’Shevat. But even with all of these reminders, we still stand on the brink of environmental disaster and bear witness every day to the struggle of our brothers, sisters, and itty-bitty babies to live in dignity.

 Imagine how different we would live if we allowed this truth to guide our individual and societal behavior. How might we reckon with our garbage which mucks up our rivers, lakes, and oceans? The strip mining of God’s mountains or the chemicals which pollute God’s air as well as our lungs? How might we react to the dire warning of our human impact on mass extinction and loss of biodiversity? How can we answer God about the hunger, homelessness, and despair that our fellow brothers and sisters experience every day while others live in absurd luxury using more resources than more than 90% of the world?

I am reminded of a powerful Talmudic teaching that uses the image of God’s arms holding the world instead of God’s hands.
It is taught in a baraita:
Rabbi Yosei says: Woe to them, the creations, who see and  know not what they see; who stand and know not upon what they stand.
He clarifies: Upon what does the earth stand? Upon pillars, as it is stated: “Who shakes the earth out of its place, and its pillars tremble” (Job 9:6).
These pillars are positioned upon water, as it is stated: “To Him Who spread forth the earth over the waters” (Psalms 136:6).
These waters stand upon mountains, as it is stated: “The waters stood above the mountains” (Psalms 104:6).
The mountains are upon the wind, as it is stated: “For behold He forms the mountains and creates the wind” (Amos 4:13).
The wind is upon a storm, as it is stated: “Stormy wind, fulfilling His word” (Psalms 148:8).
The storm hangs upon the arm of the Holy One, Blessed be He, as it is stated:
“And underneath are the everlasting arms” (Deuteronomy 33:27), which demonstrates that the entire world rests upon the arms of the Holy One, Blessed be He. (Talmud Chagigah 12b)

We see but either chose not to understand what we are seeing or just ignore what it is we see. “That’s the way the world works,” is a fallacy. We choose to let it be so. But, we can also make the difficult choice to change.

As with many traditional folk songs, over the years there are variations and additions to the lyrics of “He’s Got The Whole World…” When we add the ones below to the ones above I think we can paint a fuller picture. That the incredible world we have is an amazing gift from God that is worth caring for. Specifically, that the creatures, plants, and people God created are worth saving. And just because they are “in His hands” doesn’t mean we can shirk our responsibility. Instead what it means to love the Lord - means to love each other and all of God’s Creation. So sing it with me:

He's got the sun and the rain in his hands,
He's got the moon and the stars in his hands,
He's got the wind and the clouds in his hands,
He's got the whole world in his hands.

He's got the rivers and the mountains in his hands,
He's got the oceans and the seas in his hands,
He's got you and he's got me in his hands,
He's got the whole world in his hands.

January 2023

 

An Unbreakable Bond - Israel & Diaspora Jewry

A few years ago, I remember a colleague from Israel asking me if “America was okay?!” We were living through a tumultuous moment and there was great concern from her about what was taking place here. We were more divided, more uncivil and more unsure of our democracy and its future. Over the years, it has usually been we American Jews who have called to express concern and lend support to our Israeli brothers and sisters over the challenges they have faced. So frankly, it was quite a shock to hear from an Israeli colleague her deep concern for the fate of America and American Jewry. One thing, however, was clear - political parties and governments come and go, our societies take steps forward and sadly backward, there are wars, terror attacks and anti-Semitic incidents, but through it all, the bonds and love we have for each other remains unbreakable.

When people ask me, “Why?” I reply, because our fates are intertwined. Whether we live in Israel or in the Diaspora - we are bond together in a living Jewish community about which Jewish history has been and will be written. At its best, it is a relationship of love, mutual respect, and the value of Jewish unity and responsibility for one another. This bond is expressed in the Talmudic teaching, כל ישראל ערבים זה בזה – Kol Yisrael Arevim Zeh Bazeh -“All Israel is responsible for one another.” We are charged with caring for each other and supporting one another. This remains true even when we bitterly disagree - as what happens in Israel deeply effects us in the Diaspora and what happens here in the Diaspora deeply effects Israel.

Like many of you, I am an ardent Zionist with a deep love for our people and the Land of Israel. Israel is our homeland; it is where the Jewish people exercise political sovereignty over our destiny and has been at the heart of Jewish dreams and aspirations for thousands of years. That is why it is so painful to hear the rhetoric of some of the incoming members of Knesset. Their bigotry, homophobia, intolerance of differing Jewish traditions and religious expressions, autocratic tendencies, and violent threats against Arabs is shameful and desecrates the very Jewish tradition they cloak themselves in. They represent the antithesis of an Israel, that, at its best, is striving to further equality among all its citizens (Jewish or not), advancing towards a more pluralistic society, and honoring not only the rule of law and democracy but also the deep Torah values of welcoming the stranger and pursuing peace. Indeed, Israel is at its strongest when it lives up to the highest ethical and moral values enshrined in our Jewish tradition. This is also true of our own country. For America is strongest when it too lives up to our highest ideals and principles.

One thing remains clear to me - we cannot abandon our connection and our commitment to each other. Instead, we must increase our investment of resources and energy into those voices which reflect the best of Israel. For me, it is the work of the Masorti (Conservative) Movement in Israel (www.masorti.org) with its 50 congregations and its work on the issues of religious pluralism, democracy and civil rights. They are on the front lines with other partners like Women of the Wall (https://womenofthewall.org.il/), working for an Israel that recognizes the religious diversity of the Jewish people and welcomes all Jews no matter their denomination or affiliation to Judaism’s holiest site. Or partnering with ITIM “Passages” (https://www.itim.org.il/en/) - which is a leading advocacy organization working to build a Jewish and democratic Israel in which all Jews can lead full Jewish lives. Many of our most important agencies focus on both Israel and America with robust efforts in both places (JFNA, JNF, JAFI, etc.). So whether it is serving as a safe haven for refugees (www.HIAS.org) or working to tackle hunger (www.mazon.org) we work and advocate together.

As I have spoken and written about before - when you truly love someone, you love them despite their not being perfect. The same is true about loving Israel and loving America. We all have a lot that we can do to make our voices heard and continue the holy work of making Israel (and America) the best they can be. Therefore, we must continue to build the relationships, love and caring concern we have for Israel. We should never waiver especially as our Israeli family will need our support as they navigate what will most certainly be a pivotal point in Israel’s soon to be 75th year.

 

 

For archives from December of 2015 through January 2022, please click here…