Last week some Hamas operatives were arrested in Germany and Denmark. Robin called and suggested that we have “Solidarity Shabbat.” Gene added to that and suggested HaTikvah Shabbat. 

I looked up the definition of solidarity: 

: unity (as of a group or class) that produces or is based on community of interests, objectives, and standards (Merriam Webster) 

agreement between and support for the members of a group, especially a political group: (Cambridge Dictionary) 

I would have said standing together. 

Then I looked up hope:  

to cherish a desire with anticipation : to want something to happen or be true 

to desire with expectation of obtainment or fulfillment 

to expect with confidence : TRUST 

HaTikvah is of course, the national anthem from the State of Israel. And it means the hope. It can be hard to find hope in times like these but that is where I am going to start. 

• This week Robin and I signed a letter of thanks to Holy Trinity and Zion Lutheran. They sent part of their Christmas offering for our security fund. Thus far I believe we have gotten four such donations. They stand with us. 
• We also delivered bagels, 8 dozen to the Elgin Police Department. 3 shifts, 6:30 AM, 2:30 PM and yes, Robin and I made the 10:30 PM shift. It was a little way for saying thank you to the officers who sit in our parking lot, or Holy Trinity’s or the funeral home, carefully watching our building, being a deterrent and keeping our people safe. We got thank you notes for our thank yous! They stand with us. 
• This past weekend, sadly, the United States saw somewhere between 200 and 400 swatting incidents. Fake bomb threats that pull attention away from police departments who have to respond to each and every one of those events. Did you know that we have a bomb policy? It was written many years ago as part of JCFS’s Safer Synagogue program together with the Elgin Police Department. Let’s review. If we get such a call, we will ask all of you to leave the building, out the door you came in. Go across the street to the funeral home parking lot and then we will go into Holy Trinity. Simultaneously, we will call EPD and they will come and clear the building.  Again, Holy Trinity and the EPD stand with us. 

People who stand with us, bring me hope. 

• This week I had a positive meeting with Mary who runs Occupy Elgin and Fox Valley Citizens for Peace and Justice. These are the people who stand on the Kimball Bridge near the library. Depending on the legislative issue, you (and I) may have stood with them. However, they are unapologetically pro-Palestinian. After much discussion and a yummy lunch I think she understands better while some view her position as not only anti-Zionist but anti-semetic. However, she doesn’t really want Jews destruction. I pointed her to Noa Tishby’s Israel, a book I have given several times to friends and family. The polite, civil conversation brings me hope.  
• I spoke with Dr. Suzanne Johnson, the supervenient of U46 about some of the “incidents” i have heard about in U46. Look for more programming with them after Winter Break. 
• I spoke with Apostle Larry Henderson about the Boys and Girls Club. They are not teaching that Israel stole the land in U46 schools. 

Each of these conversations brings me hope. 

• And perhaps the most touching thing, is that even in these times, people still want to become Jewish. Last night we were joined by one such person, who for the first time could say the Sh’ma as a Jew. In the next few weeks we will be welcoming formally a few more people just like him For each person, the reasons they want to join the Jewish people differ. It is worth having a conversation to learn how varied the Jewish people are. But once someone publicly declares there Jewishness, we are not allowed to talk about it again. A person who joins the Jewish people is dearer to G-d. This brings me hope.  
• Saying Mi Shebeirach brings me hope—and it brings hope to those for whom we are saying it. 
• Gathering in a shiva minyan brings me hope. 
• Community brings me hope. 

Earlier this year I asked our confirmation class to interview the people in our building that day about why they are Jewish. The number one answer was “the food.” Number two was community. After winter break we will be studying the words of Edmund Flegg which he wrote in1927: 

I am a Jew
I am a Jew because my faith demands of me no abdication of the mind.
I am a Jew because my faith requires of me all the devotion of my heart.
I am a Jew because in every place where suffering weeps, I weep.
I am a Jew because at every time when despair cries out, I hope.
I am a Jew because the word of the people Israel is the oldest and the newest.
I am a Jew because the promise of Israel is the universal promise.
I am a Jew because, for Israel, the world is not completed; we are completing it.
I am a Jew because, for Israel, humanity is not created; we are creating it.
I am a Jew because Israel places humanity and its unity above the nations and above Israel itself.
I am a Jew because, above humanity, image of the divine Unity, Israel places the unity which is divine. (After Edmond Fleg, “CCAR Rabbi’s Manual”, page 203-4) 

The Jew hopes.  

I first learned this poem in Israel in 1977 as part of a Tisha B’av service. Like we talked about all those many years ago, we are still here. That brings me hope. 

Our song today, HaTikvah is about hope: 

As long as in the heart, within,
The Jewish soul yearns,
And towards the ends of the east,
[The Jewish] eye gazes toward Zion,

Our hope is not yet lost,
The hope of two thousand years,
To be a free nation in our own land,
The land of Zion and Jerusalem 

The text was written in 1878  by Naftali Herz Imber, a Jewish poet from Zolochiv . It expresses the hope of return. In 1882, Imber emigrated to Ottoman-ruled Palestine (remember that’s what it was called then!) and read his poem to the pioneers of the early Jewish villages—Rishon LeZion, Rehovot, Gedera, and Yesud Hama’ala. In 1887, Shmuel Cohenwith a musical background, set the poem to a musical tune he knew from Romania. 

Our Torah portion today begins, “Enough!” said Israel. “My son Joseph is still alive! I must go and see him before I die.” The Torah itself brings me hope.  

I am hopeful that like Jacob would see his son Joseph, we will see the hostages. It can be hard to hang onto the hope but I remain hopeful that we will see the hostages still alive. 

I am hopeful that like Joseph and his brothers, we can find ways to reconcile, with each other, with our families, our communities and the world. 

I am hopeful that we will come to know, deep in our hearts, deep in our bones, in our kishkes, that like G-d’s promise to Jacob, that G-d goes with us. Always. That is the ultimate message of today’s portion. And it brings me hope. So much hope.  

So as we move into 2024, what do we dare to hope for. We have used this poem of Judy Chicago’s before, but it captures the vision: 

And then all that has divided us will merge
And then compassion will be wedded to power
And then softness will come to a world that is harsh and unkind 

And then both men and women will be gentle
And then both women and men will be strong
And then no person will be subject to another’s will 

And then all will be rich and free and varied
And then the greed of some will give way to the needs of many 

And then all will share equally in the Earth’s abundance 

And then all will care for the sick and the weak and the old 

And then all will nourish the young
And then all will cherish life’s creatures 

And then everywhere will be called Eden once again 

Copyright Judy Chicago, 1979