The Sound of Holiness 

When God, in creating,
Began to create,
Silence hovered over the face of the deep.
And God said,
T’kiah. T’ruah. T’kiah. 

Holiness has a sound.
Part swoosh of blood in the veins,
Part hum from the edge of the universe,
Part stillness, part vibration,
Part life entering a newborn,
Part life leaving the deceased,
Part dissonance, part resonance,
A sound that can only be heard
With the heart. 

When God, in creating,
Began to create,
God spoke in music,
Giving us the shofar
As a vessel to hold the divine voice,
And as an instrument
To summon awe and wonder,
So we might become,
In our own lives
And in the world,
T’kiah g’dolah. 

Alden Solovy

Do not separate yourself from the community, Today, we celebrate the birthday of the world.  

Five thousand seven hundred and eighty four years ago, the world was created. I am aware that our story of creation does not match our scientific understanding. Yet this story has much to teach us, even today.  

Perhaps this wasn’t the first creation. Maybe 974 worlds or perhaps a 1000 depending on which midrash you read and subscribe to. Perhaps G-d was angry. Perhaps G-d was looking for perfection. Perhaps, G-d created other things before G-d created this one. Perhaps G-d did not create alone. G-d said, “Let us make Adam in our image.”
Perhaps G-d didn’t want man to be alone. Already G-d was creating a community. 

On the sixth day, God saw all that God had made, and found it very good. And there was evening and there was morning, the sixth day. 

 But G-d didn’t just create man. Or man and woman. G-d created many things, a great variety of things. G-d and the world needed that diveristy. We still do. Yesterday we spoke about how diverse our small community is, and how still we are connected, part of one community. You all belong. Right here, right now. 

Today I thought I just wanted to teach you one text. This is the text, based on “Do Not Separate yourself from the community, the congregation as anyone who separates themselves will not see the congregation consoled.” Consoled might become the key word here.  

(4) “Do not separate yourself from the congregation”: but rather share in their troubles. As anyone who separates from the congregation will not see the congregation consoled (Taanit 11a). 

And it is taught in a baraita: A Torah scholar is not permitted to reside in any city that does not have these ten things: A court that has the authority to flog and punish transgressors; and a charity fund for which monies are collected by two people and distributed by three, as required by halakha. This leads to a requirement for another three people in the city. And a synagogue; and a bathhouse; and a public bathroom; a doctor; and a bloodletter; and a scribe [velavlar] to write sacred scrolls and necessary documents; and a ritual slaughterer; and a teacher of young children. With these additional requirements there are a minimum of 120 men who must be residents of the city. They said in the name of Rabbi Akiva: The city must also have varieties of fruit, because varieties of fruit illuminate the eyes. (Sanhedrin 17B;10 

All summer, as I prepared to teach about community, this text was my favorite text. 

We have most of those things. We have courts, both secular of the government and the ability to form a beit din, a court of rabbis, used here mostly for conversions. Thank you, Rabbi Gordon for being part of many of those. A rabbi’s discretionary fund that is used for a wide variety of needs for individuals and the community at large. A synagogue, right here. Access to the Community Mikveh in Wilmette, Doctors and dentists and so many health care professionals. Access to our sofer, scribe, And I am pleased to tell you that Sofer Neil Yerman is coming back with our Torah for Simchat Torah. Access to kosher food. So, so, much variety in kosher food. And at least 120 Jews, many more than that in fact.  

But I love this verse, According to Rabbi Akiva, a Jewish community also needs to have varieties of fruit, because varieties of fruit illuminate the eyes. This is the second day of Rosh Hashanah. In many Sephardic communities, especially Morocco, they host a Rosh Hashanah seder on the second night. Filled with symbolic foods, it really represents that idea of varieties of fruit (and vegetables) which are symbolic and illuminate the eyes.  

It is based on this verse from the Talmud: “A person should always be accustomed to seeing these on Rosh Hashanah: Squash, and fenugreek, leeks, and chard, and dates, as each of these grows quickly and serves as a positive omen for one’s actions during the coming year.” (Tractate Horyaot 12a) 

The exact order for this seder and even the varieties of symbolic foods may vary from community to community. For example, according to Rahel Musleah who wrote a delightful children’s version of this seder, Apples and Pomegrantes, Jews from Libya mix sugar and sesame seeds instead of using fenugreek or string beans. 

Each blessing over the simanim, signs or symbols, begins with “Yehi ratzon milfanecha Hashem eloheinu v’elohei avoteinu May it be Your will, God and God of our ancestors.” This is followed by a hope for something that will happen in the new year. 

Dates: The Hebrew word for dates, tamar, resembles the word for end, yitamu. Dates represent our desire for our enemies to end their hateful conquests. 

יString beans, fenugreek or beans: The Aramaic word for fenugreek, rubia, is similar to the Hebrew word yirbu, increase.  

יLeeks: In Aramaic, leeks are called karti; the Hebrew term for cutting off is karet. Leeks represent our hopes that our enemies will be “cut off.” 

Swiss chard or beets: Selek is the term for beets in both Hebrew and Aramaic, and it sounds like silek, or “depart.”  

Squash or gourd: The Aramaic word k’ra is reminiscent of the Hebrew words kriah (to tear) and kara (to proclaim/announce). The blessing recited before eating squash or gourd at the seder reflects this dual connection. 

 Pomegranate: In addition to being one of the seven species of Israel, pomegranates have a long history of being symbolic in Judaism. At the Rosh Hashanah seder, their many seeds represent the 613 mitzvot. The seeds can also symbolize the many blessings that we hope will manifest in the coming year. 

Apples dipped in honey: Apples eaten with honey represent our hopes for a sweet new year. 

Fish or sheep head: Rosh Hashanah literally translates as “head of the year,” which is reflected by putting a literal head on the table. I have also seen people use gifilte fish or Swedish Fish.  

Anyone eat red beans and rice for secular New Year’s? What about black eyed peas? It is a similar idea.  

In the back you will find all the “treats” for which you could say Shehechianu. Blessed are you, Lord our G-d, Ruller of the Universe, who has kept us alive and sustained us and enabled us to reach this very moment.  

In planning for this and thinking about the varieties of fruit that make a community, an entire world so wonderful I hear echos of Louis Armstrong: 

I see trees of green
Red roses too
I see them bloom
For me and you
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world 

I see skies of blue
And clouds of white
The bright blessed day
The dark sacred night
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world 

The colors of the rainbow
So pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces
Of people going by
I see friends shaking hands
Saying, “How do you do?”
They’re really saying
I love you 

I hear babies cry
I watch them grow
They’ll learn much more
Than I’ll ever know
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
Yes, I think to myself
What a wonderful world
Ooh, yes 

 It is a wonderful world, in all its varieities.

People actively look for things for which to say Shehechianu over. Yesterday we said Shehechianu as a community for Zach’s Torah lifting. Today I am wearing a new skirt, just so I would have something to say Shehechianu over. 

But sometimes it is hard to say Shehechianu. Why am I still here and others not? That question hangs in the air today. 

Today’s Torah portion is challenging. Why does G-d feel the need to test Abraham?  Where does the angel come from? How old really was Isaac? Why does Abraham not consult Sarah? Where is her voice? And why, why does Abraham not question G-d? 

 Sure< one of the most famous midrashim tells us it is a dialogue. Take your son. I have two sons. Take your only son. They are both the only son of their mother. Take the one you love. I love them both. Take Isaac.  

 But that is not completely satisfying because we know from a previous text that Abraham does question G-d. He even has the chutzpah, the audacity to argue with G-d. Remember Sodom and Gemorah? G-d is again angry and is going to destroy Sodom and Gemorah for some perceived infraction. The whole community! But no, Abraham argues. Would you still do it for 50 righteous people? He bargains G-d down to 10. From this we learn the importance of having a minyan. 10 people is the bare minimum for a community. It is what is needed to say Barechu, to read Torah and yes, to say Kaddish.  

I was going to teach more about how saying Kasddish is part of being in community, on Yom Kippur.  

However, I made an early morning decision that I needed to do it this morning instead. Our community has been hit with a number of deaths recently, including two this morning.  

It is said when a person dies on Rosh Hashanah they are a tzadik, or a tzedeket. A righteous person. We learned that when Ruth Bader Ginsberg died on Rosh Hashanah, a perfect designation for someone who was a justice, since tzedek also means justice. But right here in the congregation, we mark the yahrzeits today of Jospeh Zimmerman, Chuck’s father, Paul Sitz, Gaeth’s husband and Lucas Jacob Schwartz.  

Today we mourn with Barb Maring and Ted Frisch who lost Bob this morning. And with Myron and Sarah and Dave Goldman who lost Charlene. 

Our job as a community is to “bury the dead and comfort the bereaved,” We do a good job of this at CKI. We show up. We make sure the community is there. Present. To take care of the needs of the people who are mourning. We meet people where they are. Some people want or need a full experience, with all the rituals, starting with how to prepare a person for burial. Ritual washing, tahara and sitting with the person saying Psalms, bring some comfort. Their person is not alone. Some need to get people from out of town. Some people want a graveside service. Some want a chapel service. Some want no service at all. Some want to participate in the burial by shoveling earth. Some don’t want to see that at all. My tradition is that I always stay until the grave is completely filled as final act of chesed shel emet, an act of lovingkindness that cannot be repaid by the deceased and so the family doesn’t have to worry. For me it is a spiritual discipline. Some want a full shiva, complete with covering mirrors. Some find that too jarring. Some people may be angry. Some people may be relieved. Some people may be estranged from other family members or from the Jewish community. Some people may need silence. Some may need to cry. Some may need to scream. 

This is Rosh Hashanah. It seems clear to me, what I was preparing to say at Yom Kippur, is that part of how we build community is through Kaddish. This prayer, written in Aramaic so that everyone could understand it, never mentions death. It praises G-d for life. People find it incredibly comforting, sometimes even uplifting to be surrounded by members of the community so that they can say Kaddish. Remember we need 10 people for that. In this community, it is defined as 10 adult Jews, men or women. 10 people over the age of 13. There is comfort in the rhythm of the words, in the connections to those who have come before.  

This is Rosh Hashanah. As we spoke about on Erev Rosh Hashanah. it is about change. It is about reflection on the things you have done well and the places you would like to make a change.  

The Dash Poem (By Linda Ellis)
I read of a man who stood to speak
At the funeral of a friend
He referred to the dates on the tombstone
From the beginning…to the end

He noted that first came the date of birth
And spoke the following date with tears,
But he said what mattered most of all
Was the dash between those years

For that dash represents all the time
That they spent alive on earth.
And now only those who loved them
Know what that little line is worth 

For it matters not, how much we own,
The cars…the house…the cash.
What matters is how we live and love
And how we spend our dash.

So, think about this long and hard.
Are there things you’d like to change?
For you never know how much time is left
That can still be rearranged.

If we could just slow down enough
To consider what’s true and real
And always try to understand
The way other people feel.

And be less quick to anger
And show appreciation more
And love the people in our lives
Like we’ve never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect
And more often wear a smile,
Remembering this special dash
Might only last a little while

So, when your eulogy is being read
With your life’s actions to rehash…
Would you be proud of the things they say
About how you spent YOUR dash? 

Often times, part of my spirituality is to greet the new year with that first sunrise. It is my opportunity to say Shehechianu. It echos years of greeting the sun and the new year on Plum Island with dear friends. Today’s rain precluded that, although I was most certainly up and awake. The rian seems to fit my mood better. However, one of my relatives posted a quote yesterday, “I hope you realize that every day is a fresh start for you. That every sunrise is a new chapter in your life waiting to be written.” 

– Juansen Dizon 

For that we could say shehechianu. Let’s remember that.  

Our job is to meet people where they are…wherever they are. Our job is to be kind. Incredibly kind. As I have said too often this year. Keep watching your emails. You will have the opportunity, too soon, to perform these acts of lovingkindness. When you get those emails, know that you help community, just by showing up.