Atem nitzavim kulchem….Today, all of you, all of us stand. Or maybe we sit, if we need to.

What does that mean that we all stand?

All of us have varying abilities. Today we pause to spotlight those people with differing ability, all of whom stood together to hear Moses’ farewell address. The men, the women and children, the stranger in our gate, the wood choppers and water drawers. Everyone.

We are told, “You shall not curse the deaf, nor put a stumbling block before the blind.” (Lev 19:14). We know that Jacob limped for the rest of his life after his all night wrestling. We know that Isaac was never the same after his trip up the mountain when he was nearly sacrificed. We know that Moses was a man of slow speech.

Pirke Avot teaches something important when dealing with various kinds of students: “There are four types of student. One who is quick to understand and quick to forget–his flaw cancels his virtue. One who is slow to understand and slow to forget–his virtue cancels his flaw. One who is quick to understand and slow to forget–his is a good portion. One who is slow to understand and quick to forget–his is a bad portion.”

It also teaches that “there are four types among those who attend the study hall. One who goes but does nothing–has gained the rewards of going. One who does [study] but does not go to the study hall–has gained the rewards of doing. One who goes and does, is a chasid, a righteous one. One who neither goes nor does, is wicked.”

Also,” there are four types among those who sit before the sages: the sponge, the funnel, the strainer and the sieve. The sponge absorbs all. The funnel takes in at one end and lets it out the other. The strainer rejects the wine and retains the sediment. The sieve rejects the coarse flour and retains the fine flour.” (Chapter 5, Pirke Avot)

The rabbis knew that there were different learning styles! Now you teachers who are here already know that some of us are visual learners, some are auditory, some are logical, some are physical, some are verbal. Some of us are social and learn better in a group. Some of us learn better as individuals. Some pick things up seemingly instantaneously by osmosis and some have to really wrestle with a text, turn it over and over again and make it our own.

For most of us, the research shows that we can only retain about seven things in our “working memory”. That is why telephone numbers used to only be seven numbers. Before they added area codes and before we all had cell phones with programmed numbers! We also know from research that it takes 10,000 hours of practice in something to really become successful. Whether that is being a professional athlete, a professional dancer, a cellist from the symphony orchestra or just reading Torah.

For me reading Torah is a struggle. It takes practice and hard work. In college, after turning in a paper that eventually won a national award I was diagnosed as dyslexic. There had been a typo on every page. Only I didn’t see them. My professor, being kind, told me to go to the learning center and be tested, retype the paper and he would regrade it and then submit it. Until then I had been called lazy. I would understand math concepts and copy the problem off the board wrong and get the wrong answer. I never could spell well in any language. After I went to the Learning Center and had a real diagnosis, I was able to learn about accommodations—I paid a typist and a proofreader. Touch tone phones and their musical notes helped with telephone numbers. And thank G-d for spell check!

But chanting Torah that goes from right to left, in a different alphabet, has no vowels, and an additional musical notation system that requires reading above and below the consonants, that remained hard! I am one of the lucky ones. I found the right people who could help and ultimately it hasn’t held me back from my access to Judaism or from leading a successful life.

Others are not so lucky. In Andover, half of the students in my religious school had learning plans in their public schools. Several of them had been to other synagogues first. Two families had severely disabled children. One was severely autistic; the other had Downs Syndrome. Both had been turned away from synagogues because the educational director felt that they could not accommodate them. Besides these children would never have a Bar or Bat Mitzvah. Not true. There is a very important movie, Praying with Lior that addresses a child with Downs Syndrome who does go on to have his Bar Mitzvah. It is a touching and poignant movie, one that we should all watch because it teaches us much about the nature of prayer, about a boy’s relationship with G-d, about how he can, in fact, lead his congregation.

My dean, Dr. Ora Horn Prouser wrote a book, Esau’s Blessing, How the Bible Embraces Those with Special Needs. In the process of studying the Bible in depth, she became convinced that many of our Biblical ancestors had some limiting ability. The first one she examines is Esau who she believes had ADHD. Once building her case effectively, Ora goes on to ask the question, “How does it affect our reading to view Esau as having symptoms of ADHD? Clearly we are able to explain Esau’s impulsive behavior, the ease with which he is distracted, and his desire to be active in the out-of-doors. We can imagine that the very characteristics for which he is reviled in later literature may be the result of a neurological condition…we should view the Bible not as a model for proper approaches to ADHD, but as a cautionary tale about the improper approach. It is a reading to sensitize us so that today’s Esaus may be spared  “a very great and bitter cry.”

In her book she goes on to outline similar issues with Isaac and mental retardation, Joseph and giftedness, Moses and speech disorders, Miriam and gender education. Samson and Conduct Disorders, Mephiboshet and Jacob and how to deal with physical disabilities and some Biblical personalities and depression. It is a wonderful book. For families dealing with any of these issues, it gives them role models. They don’t feel so isolated and alone. In her conclusion she focuses on blindness. Two of our patriarchs go blind with old age. She points out that “lack of sight does not mean lack of insight. Blindness, a physical disability, is no indication of mental or spiritual weakness. Thus the commandment to protect the blind is not motivated by pity for the disabled and it is not meant to imply that the blind person is a burden to society. Rather, it prescribes the kindness we are expected to show to those who need extra consideration.”

How do we do that as a congregation? It means we welcome everyone, even those with differing needs, especially those with differing abilities. It means we make the bimah accessible or as we are doing this morning, bringing the mike and the Torah down so that people have access to it. It means that our sound system needs to work and that maybe I need to print copies of sermons in advance so people who have a hard time hearing can hear what I say. It means that we partner with Keshet, an organization that provides programs like the one Ted Frisch enjoys. They will be coming to CKI later this fall to help our parents and our teachers understand learning styles so that we can maximize our ability to help students, kids or adults, of all abilities, not just those we label special needs.  The mission of Keshet is as “the premier provider of educational, recreational, vocational and social programs for individuals with intellectual disabilities operating according to traditional Jewish values.  Our mission is to enhance independence and integration to optimize personal potential.” That’s what we a synagogue for all—to enhance independence and integration. That is what embracing diversity is about.

We are told that we are all created b’tzelm elohim, in the image of G-d. Like today’s parsha, that means all of us, men, women children, the leaders among us and the woodchoppers and waterdrawers, the aged, infirm, those who can learn lots and those who struggle, those who can hear or can see and those who cannot. All of us are a part of G-d’s creation and all of us are worthy of respect. Marian Wright Edelman of the Children’s Defense Fund had it right this week, she said in her back to school, beginning of the new year message:

“You see a lot of teachers judge and stigmatize their students based on where they come from. A lot of my teachers thought that since I was from the South End of Louisville and I grew up in Section 8 housing that I wasn’t capable of doing all the things that I did, and the first time that I really felt like I was someone, it was the first time my fifth grade teacher actually pulled me to the side and said, ‘What can I do for you to help you as a student?’ And I ask my students that now. I pull them to the side and I say, ‘What can I do as an adult to help you?’. . . I feel like every time I talk to someone, I should instill something in them, and I want that in return. And that happens just through treating people with love.” The answer is simple, then, really. It is about treating people with love. That’s it.

Atem nitzavim kulchem. We all stood (or maybe if we needed to sat). Choose life that you may live. Today we choose life and Judaism—for everyone, of all abilities.