Rosh Hashanah 5784: The Silent Voices

Last night we talked about community and connection. We’ll continue that theme today. Today’s and tomorrow morning’s Torah portions are tough ones. Why do we read these two portions every year? Why do we need them? 

Hagar, whose very name means The Other, is cast out by our patriarch Abraham. Together with her son Ishmael, they are given three days worth of water and bread. Exhausted on the third day, she puts the lad under a bush and cries out—NOTE, she doesn’t pray—not to look on while the child dies. For surely, the child is about to die. G-d hears the cry of the lad and lo and behold, opens Hagar’s eyes and she sees a spring. 

What does this have to do with belonging? With community? These seem to be stories ripped from the headlines this year. In some of our border states it is now illegal to give migrants—not my preferred term—water.. What is their crime? Crime? No person is illegal. We learn that from this morning’s portion. 

Hagar is cast out. It would appear that her voice is not heard. Why is that? The rabbis of midrash are not especially kind to her. Some argue that she is a woman so G-d doesn’t hear her voice. Some argue that she is an Egyptian, so as an Other, G-d doesn’t hear her voice. Some argue that she didn’t listen to Sarah’s voice and do the bidding of her mistress. Some argue that she didn’t stop her son, Ishmael, from “playing” with Sarah’s son, Isaac. What the nature of that playing was is unclear. What Sarah was afraid of is unclear. Nonetheless, G-d tells Abraham to listen to the voice of Sarah.  

Rabbi Lord Sacks said: “God hears our silent cry. In the agonising tale of how Sarah told Abraham to send Hagar and her son away, the Torah tells us that when their water ran out and the young Ishmael was at the point of dying, Hagar cried, yet God heard “the voice of the child” (Gen. 21:16-17). Earlier when the angels came to visit Abraham and told him that Sarah would have a child, Sarah laughed inwardly, that is, silently, yet she was heard by God (Gen. 18:12-13). God hears our thoughts even when they are not expressed in speech. The silence that counts, in Judaism, is thus a listening silence – and listening is the supreme religious art. Listening means making space for others to speak and be heard.” 

We need to listen, really really listen to the widow, the orphan the stranger, the soujourner in our gates. Those on the edges, the marginalized, the disenfranchised, the disengaged as JewBelong calls them. Who are they—often our young people, those living in poverty, people of color, people who are not like us, people who are disabled, people who do our menial tasks.  

Tourists by Yehuda Amichai
Visits of condolence is all we get from them.
They squat at the Holocaust Memorial,
They put on grave faces at the Wailing Wall
And they laugh behind heavy curtains
In their hotels.
They have their pictures taken
Together with our famous dead
At Rachel’s Tomb and Herzl’s Tomb
And on Ammunition Hill.
They weep over our sweet boys
And lust after our tough girls
And hang up their underwear
To dry quickly
In cool, blue bathrooms.
Once I sat on the steps by agate at David’s Tower,
I placed my two heavy baskets at my side. A group of tourists
was standing around their guide and I became their target marker. “You see
that man with the baskets? Just right of his head there’s an arch
from the Roman period. Just right of his head.” “But he’s moving, he’s moving!”
I said to myself: redemption will come only if their guide tells them,
“You see that arch from the Roman period? It’s not important: but next to it,
left and down a bit, there sits a man who’s bought fruit and vegetables for his family.” 

Can we see the people in front of us? Can we hear their voices? Their stories? Their Torah?  

There is another voice that is not heard in today’s readings. In the haftarah that you just heard, Hannah is praying for a child. Eli thinks she is drunk, because her lips are moving but he can’t hear any words. Yet, G-d did hear her fervent prayer and a child was born.  

In this congregation, we embrace diversity. We have members who come here from more than a dozen countries. (China, Japan, India, Mexico, El Salvador, Peru, Canada, Germany, France, Ukraine, Russia, Holland). We represent four counties, 11 school districts and 30 communities. 

We have people who have varying levels of abilities or disabilities. We have kids on ed plans. We have people who can’t walk well, who can’t hear, who can’t see. We have people who are intellectually challenged. We have people with hidden disabilities, and chronic illnesses. We have people with mental health challenges. We have gay people and straight people. People who may be gender non-conforming. Married. Single. Others who are widowed. Those planning weddings and new births, and sadly those who recently buried family members. We have people who were born Jewish and people who were not and chose to join us and those who did not. We have people across the Jewish spectrum of religious observance and belief or even no belief. We range from 6 months to 101. We have some of you in person and others of you on Zoom.  

We welcome you all. We welcome your voices. All of you. You all belong. You are all part of this community and we are richer for it. Your perspective matters. Your opinion matters. Your voice matters. Even if we disagree. Especially if we disagree, because those debates strengthen the community. We need to hear your voice, your cries, your opinions. It is part of being in a community, As we learned last night, “Kol yisrael arevim zeh bazeh, all of Israel are responsible for each other.” 

There is still another voice that is not heard today. Today is Shabbat and Rosh Hashanah. Because it is Shabbat we don’t blow shofar. The only commandment for Rosh Hashanah is to hear the voice of the shofar. So why do we not hear it today? The voice of the shofar is silent. There seem to be several reasons. In the time of the Temple, the shofar was heard at least in Jerusalem. After the destruction of the Temples, the rabbis ruled that even in Jerusalem it would not be heard for fear of carrying the shofar. Carrying is one of those 39 prohibited categories of work associated with building the Temple.  

However, apparently Italian rabbis even then, knew that not hearing the sound of the shofar might be upsetting for people and they changed the blessing for Areshet Sefateinu from “kol tekateinu” to “kol zichron tekiateinu.” We can remember the voice of the shofar. In our silence we can still hear the voice of the shofar. We can hear the still, small voice of G-d, as did Elijah.  

The Silent Shofar by Rabbi Eli L. Garfinkel 

The duty to rest on Shabbat cancels the blowing of the Shofar.
But nothing can cancel the Shofar itself. The idea of the Shofar is never silent.
The Shofar is a sound that can be heard loud and clear even when it is not blown.
And maybe it is the silent Shofar that is the loudest of all sounds.
The silent Shofar reminds us that there are people who want cry out but are afraid to do so.
The silent Shofar reminds us that silence can both bless and curse.
Silence blesses those who need a rest from the constant hum in our lives.
The texts, the notifications, the calls, the news, the stupid opinions of unserious, cruel people.
Silence curses those who allow it to be a shelter for the wicked.
Silence curses those who allow it to express apathy toward wickedness.
Let the silence of our Shofar today be a siren heard throughout the year.
In this silence, let us hear only the whisper of God, the kol d’mamah dakah. 

 Meditation plays an important role in Judaism. Stillness and silence: plays an important role.  Psalm 65:2: l’cha dumia tehillah, “to You silence is praise” is among many texts on silence  Talmud answers the question, what do the rabbis do before they pray? The sages would “be still one hour prior to each of the three prayer services, then pray for one hour and afterwards be still again for one hour more. “BT Berachot 32b. This was interpreted by the Rambam as silent motionlessness in order “to settle their minds and quiet their thoughts.” [Maimonides’ Commentary on Mishnah Berachot 5:1] 

Don’t worry! We are not going to sit for an hour! Find a comfortable place to sit. Close your eyes. Just listen. See if you can hear the silent sound of the shofar. See if you can remember.  

Sh…listen…
Sh…remember…
Sh…the silent sounds today
Sh…Tekiah, a joyous cry, a shout, announcing, crowning the Ruler of the Universe
This is the birthday of the world. And we are still here. Hineini
Sh…Shevarim, three, painful, heaving sobs.
The world is not yet complete. We are completing it
Sh…Teruah, a staccato cry, a wake up call, an insistent alarm clock
A demand for justice and a better world
Sh…Tekiah Gedola, a blessing for the new year.
Sh! WAKE UP!  

Did you hear the cry? The sob? The wake up call? Look around you…see the people. Hear their voices. See how we are connected. 

What do we do now? According to Rabbi Nicole Guzik, “When you cannot hear the shofar, be the shofar. As it is said in Pirkei Avot, “In a place where there are no men, strive to be a man.” What does it mean to be a shofar? Where we see brokenness, let us not merely recognize pain but also be willing to act as a comforter. Where we see abuse, let us not close our eyes to the injustice experienced by others. Where we see opportunities to be a light unto others, let us not expect someone else to provide the match. Being a shofar is raising our hand to be called upon as God’s messenger, God’s partner, God’s amplifier of goodness.” 

 When I was in Guatemala with American Jewish World Service, we participated in an interesting community building exercise. We are going to do that now, Right now, Here is a ball of yarn, I am going to throw it to Lizzie who will then throw it to someone else. Soon we will have a tangled web. We will each be connected. One to the other. And in the process we will have built community. Right here, right now. 

On the back table you will find friendship bracelets. Little pieces of yarn to silently remind you that you are connected. That you belong. That you have a friend. Please feel free to take one and wear it proudly, knowing that your voice is heard. That you belong. That you are part of this community. 

Erev Rosh Hashanah: What is Community?

L’Shanah Tovah. Happy New Year. The word shanah comes from the same root as the word for change, so wishing someone a L’shanah tovah is hoping that they will have a good year and a good change. No ,not pennies and nickels and dimes. A change in attitude. A change in perspective. A change in behavior. A change to be the best you that you can be.  

This period of time is about reflection and meditation, prayer and music, family and foods that may make us nostalgic. It can be about fear and trepidation. It can be about awe. It is about joy and celebration and hope.  And it is about change. What are the changes YOU want to make in your life? How can YOU be the best YOU that you can be? 

This year our Torah School families set the theme for this coming year, “Coming Together Again: Do Not Separate Yourselves from the Community” The quote comes from Pirke Avot. It was Hillel who said: do not separate yourself from the community.” Other translations are “from the congregation.”  

 We know that the nature of community is changing. The Jewish community and the sociwty at large. That was true even before the pandemic.  

It is changing in a myriad of ways. We could do a deep dive into the Pew Research Study of 2020. https://www.jewishtogether.org/2020pewstud Some high level highlights. Don’t worry. There won’t be a test. 

We are growing. There are more Jews today in the United States, roughly 7.5 million in 2020 compared with 2013, 6.7 million. We tend to feel that being Jewish can be a matter of religion, ancestry or culture or a combination. More say it is about culture. (55%) Which explains why one way we connect, our key word, remember, is through food. 70% of you like “traditional” Jewish food, which as the Pew Study people point out is an elastic term. Apples and honey anyone? Soon. Right here. Again. With a chance to vote for your favorite! And what about those briskets that I heard about all week? You are quite the treasure hunters. And that builds community. How about a full Sephardic Rosh Hashanah seder, with lots of symbolic foods for good luck! We’ll explore that on Sunday. 

American Jews continue to “feel connected” to the Jewish people. 85% feel a great deal or some sens of belonging to the Jewish people. 79% feel a great deal of responsibility to help Jews in need. 76% say being Jewish is very or somewhat important to them. But here are the kickers—only 15% say that observing Jewish law is important. And only 35% of those who identify with a Jewish denomination or movement of stream of Judaism are synagogue members. And yet, 62% prioritize sharing holidays or cultural events with non-Jews. 57% visit synagogues and other historic Jewish sites while traveling. Some of you did that this summer. I certainly enjoyed all those pictures! And as I have said before, the most popular religious expression is attending a seder. 62%. Followed by attending a Jewish life cycle event, lighting a yahrseit candle or fasting on Yom Kippur.  

So, if it is about connection…and people are not necessarily joining synagogues, what do people want in a community? What sets this community apart from other places you may belong? Those are the kind of things that we will explore in the next 10 days. 

Now I may be preaching to the choir, because you are the ones who are here. Fully engaged. All of this has implications for us, right here, right now, at CKI as we embrace diversity and serve the Jewish community, here in the Fox River Valley.  

Over the next 10 days, the next year we are coming together to explore what it means to be a community. To be in community. To belong.  

Do you belong? Do you feel you belong here? Anywhere? 

You may belong to a health club, a soccer or baseball team, a PTO, a dance troupe, an online forum or interest group, even a political party and even those form some kinds of community. But it is not the same as being connected here. 

The Talmud (Shevuot 39a), teaches in discussing the domino effect of sin, concludes with the Aramaic phrase, Kol yisrael arevim zeh bazeh, meaning all of Israel, all Jews are responsible for each other. But is more than worrying about sin. It is about taking care of one another, in good times—like the birth of a baby or in bad, like helping families mourn when tragedy strikes. 

Let’s start with some basic definitions: 

Belong:
to be attached or bound by birth, allegiance, or dependency. usually used with to. they belong to their homeland. to be a member of a club, organization, or group. 

Community: 

  • a group of people living in the same place or having a particular characteristic in common. “the scientific community” attitudes, interests values and goals.  
  • a feeling of fellowship with others, as a result of sharing common attitudes, interests, values and goals.  “the sense of community that organized religion can provide.” 

Both have a sense of connection. And that seems right. What people seem to want from community and from religion is a sense of connection. The word religion comes from the Latin, religio, to tie back up into, or to be connected. Emerson talked about this in one of his essays. The idea that when we leave our homes of origin, we go searching for something to replace that sense of love and belonging. 

Psalm 27 which the Bromets will read shortly, has a verse that says, “Though my father and mother leave me, the LORD will take me in.” Let that sink in. G-d will take you in. G-d loves you. G-d created you. And G-d will take you in. That brings us hope. But not just G-d, but your community. This community. Religion and the Jewish Community are an opportunity to find YOUR place, Your home, Your meaning in the world after the security (we hope) of being a child with your mother and your father.  

 And then we offer such hope and consolation to the person sitting next to us—or maybe even on Zoom. Our technology communities are one way, or many ways we stay connected. Community is about being kind. It is about being present. It is about being non-judgmental, About safe spaces. It’s about meeting people where they are, wherever they are on their journey. 

 Hillel also teaches, “If I am not for myself, who will be for me. If I am only for myself, what am I and if not now when,”  

 So maybe what distinguishes the Jewish community from other communities, is being there for one another, in good times and bad. New opportunities to engage with Judaism, with G-d, with other Jews and community keep emerging. Perhaps you like meditating. Try Institute of Jewish Spirituality. Perhaps you like Shabbat dinner with friends. One Table will be happy to supply you with all the things you need. Perhaps you are concerned about rising anti-semitism. Check out organizations like the ADL or Stop the Hate whose buttons are on the back table. Perhaps Israel is your core focus. Check out any number of Israel focused organizations and agencies. Perhaps you have young children or grandchildren. PJ Library, Kveller, are great places to start and I am especially proud of our Chai Babies group. They are really building community. So do the Torah School parents, every week they sit here and schmoze and drink coffee while their kids are in school. 

One of the new organizations to emerge has edgy billboards. One is up on 294, near Dempster. “So you eat bacon. G-d has bigger things to worry about. JewBelong.” They want to appeal to a younger crowd that may be as they say disengaged Jews. Their website and their billboards are captivating. 

https://www.jewbelong.com/why-jewbelong/  

 Each of us brings something to the community. Each of us has a gift to share. Each of us helps build this place. But what if we don’t share.  

 There is a Jewish folktale that illustrates this: 

 “There was once a king who was visiting a town. In preparation for the king’s visit the town decided to fill a giant barrel with wine and present it to the king upon his arrival. Where were they going to get so much wine to fill the giant barrel? They came up with a brilliant idea; each family of the town would bring one flask filled with wine and pour it into the giant barrel and this way the barrel would fill with wine. 

They placed a Giant barrel in the center of the town with a ladder reaching to the top and every day people lined up to pour their flask of wine into the barrel. 

The day finally arrived and the king visited the town. The people were so excited to present the king with this wonderful gift. The king was shown the barrel and was given a kingly goblet. They filled his goblet with wine from the giant barrel. The towns people were shocked by the look on the king’s face as he drank the wine, the king was obviously very unhappy. When asked why he was so unhappy he responded, “It’s just plain water”. 

It turns out that each family thought to themselves why should I be the one to pour in a flask of wine I will pour in water instead, I am sure no one will notice if there is just one flask of water among all that wine. Everyone in the town made the same calculation and so no one poured in wine but rather water instead. Everyone was relying on someone else” https://www.chabadofmv.com/templates/blog/post_cdo/aid/1086982/postid/17549  

There are several versions of this story. Sometimes it is a King. Sometimes it is rabbi, It doesn’t matter, although king seems appropriate for Rosh Hashanah, since we talk about this being the day where we coronate the king. 

There are many gifts we bring to build this Holy Place, our community. We may bring wine. We may bring challah. We may bring apples or honey or table clothes or even toilet bowl cleaner and toilet paper. We hope that we may bring the gift of ourselves. Debbie Friendman, of blessed memory wrote a song, Holy Place, to illustrate this: 

These are the gifts that we bring
that we may build a holy place.
This is the spirit that we bring
that we may build a holy place.
We will bring all the goodness
that comes from our hearts
And the spirit of God will dwell within….. 

These are the colours of our dreams
we bring to make a holy place.
This is the weaving of our lives
we bring to make a holy place.
We will bring all the goodness
that comes from our hearts
And the spirit of love will dwell within….. 

These are the prayers that we bring
that we may make a holy place.
These are the visions that we seek
that we may build this holy place.
Let our promise forever be strong,
let our souls rise together in song,
that the spirit of God
and the spirit of love,
Shechinah,
will dwell within. 

If community is about connection, then we build connection one person at a time, one story at a time, one life cycle event at a time. It’s like the old bar Cheers where everyone knows your name, but more than your name. Your story, your essence, your Torah.  

On the back table you will find friendship bracelets. Little pieces of yarn to remind you that you are connected. That you belong. That you have a friend. Please feel free to take one and wear it proudly.  

Pirke Avot also teaches, “Ours is not to finish the task. Neither are we free to ignore it.” When you move to the back of the room to enjoy apples and honey and vote for your favorite one, you will be building community and connection. Sure, say shana tova to your friends who you may not have seen in too long. But make sure that you also introduce to someone you may not know.  

Selichot 5783

It is no secret that I like the little service of the High Holy Days. The private moments. The more intimate experiences. Last night a group of us gathered both in person and on Zoom to begin selichot services. Typically held late on the Saturday before Rosh Hashanah, it is one way we “get in the mood.” There are differences between how the Sephardic communities and the Ashkenazi communities do selichot. And most liberal Jewish communities have no fixed liturgy.

Sometimes it features some of the upcoming tunes, the nusach you will hear during the course of the season. Sometimes it features a dinner. Sometimes it features readings or a workshop, writing or art. So much of the concepts of the High Holy Days is so cerebral it can be hard to understand. Music, art, poetry are ways to get us out of our heads and perhaps into the emotions of the prayers themselves. Some congregations show a movie. That has had mixed responses in this congregation but that was the direction the ritual committee and I chose to use this year. 

 The first part of the evening was changing the blue linnens to white. It is always a special moment when that is completed. It was lovely to have five of us working together to make the sanctuary look beautiful.  

 There is something magical about selichot, the late night, the dim lights, the approaching holiday all seem to be evocative. It gives me a chance to focus, to center, to really prepare.  

We began with havdalah with people bringing their own lighted, separate candle to one another and to light the havdalah flame. It was beautiful. Then it was my intent to show the movie, “Lilies of the Field.” But while havdalah worked on Zoom, the Zoomers couldn’t hear the audio on the video so we went to the remaining part of the selichot service. That full service follows. 

One of our members brought a lovely reading from Rami Shapiro about Hineini that I will have to track down. You might hear it again later in the season. 

But what about Lillies of the Field. If you never saw it, it came out in 1963 starring Sidney Portier. It seems like an improbable movie to show on the wall of a Jewish sanctuary. Even projecting a cross or having nuns bless themselves. But nobody raised those objections.  

By now you might be wondering, why did I pick this movie. It is about a community—a diverse community coming together to build a church. Isn’t that what we do at CKI—we come together to build our Jewish community. Not a church, but in this case a synagogue. 

The movie has many diverse people, Sidney Portier is black and even points that out. He’s a poor itinerant handyman whose car runs out of water. There are five German nuns who have escaped over the wall in Berlin to land in this G-dforsaken desert. There is an Irish Catholic itinerant priest. Juan, the Hispanic restaurant owner, a host of Hispanic “villagers” and there is the white owner of the road construction company. And all of the languages, with no subtitles to go with it, English, German, Spanish and even southern English!  

 The head nun, The Mother, eventually called Mama, wants Homer to help fix their roof. (Can you say Fiddler on the Roof? Or our own roof campaign?) He does that and then wants to be paid. She wants him to sleep there and do more. Some tension—a lot of tension–about what it means to be paid and when. One egg and a cup of milk is a “Catholic breakfast” and not really payment and not nearly enough food.  

But the ice seems to break when he offers English lessons, rather than listening to the “phonograph” on a record. Much better and more fun than the staid lesson. The younger nuns even smile. 

One of those lessons included “I build the church. You build the church. HE builds the church. We build the church.” The idea was that they all build the church together. Or maybe G-d will provide and HE will build the church. Is it faith in G-d. Faith in the one individual? Faith in the community? Or just insurance?  

This movie has much to say about racism and diversity and welcoming people. Much to say about building community. And for me it was a piece of lifelong learning this year.  

What are the implications for us? I remain enthralled by thinking about this. It is worth the watch and a great kick off to the High Holy Days.  

Selichot and Welcome Back Havdalah 5783 

Welcome  

Heveinu Shalom Aleichem
Heveinu Shalom Aleichem,
Aleichem Heveinu Shalom
Hiney Ma Tov U Manaim
Shevet Achim Gam Yachad. 

 Ashrei
Ash-rei yosh-vei vei-te-cha – od y’-ha-l’-lu-cha se-la.
Happy are they who dwell in Your house; they are always praising You. (Psalm 84:5)  

 Or zarua
Or zarua latzadik uleyishrei lev simcha.
(light is sown for the righteous and joy for the upright in heart) 

 Havdalah
Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech ha’olam borei prei hagafen.
Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Ruler of the Universe, Creator of the fruit of the vine. 

Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech ha’olam borei minei v’samim.
Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Ruler of the Universe, Creator of varied spices

Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech ha’olam borei m’orei ha’esh.
Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Ruler of the Universe, Creator of the lights of fire. 

Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, hamavdil bein kodesh l’chol, bein or l’choshech, bein yom hashvi’i l’sheishet yamei hama’aseh. Baruch atah Adonai hamavdil bein kodesh l’chol. 

Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Ruler of the universe who makes distinctions between holy and everyday, between light and darkness, between Shabbat and the six days of work. Blessed are You, who distinguishes between holy and everyday. 

Eliyahu hanavi
Eliyahu hatishbi
Eliyahu hagiladi
Bimheirah b’yameinu
Yavo eilenu
Im Mashiach ben David 

A good week, a week of peace
May gladness reign and joy increase. 

The Gates
The gates are opening. 
A transition in time:
notice and walk through. 

Tonight we open ourselves
to possibility, to becoming
better than we were before.
Tonight we prepare
to breathe into our changes
and begin anew. 

Tonight we turn from despair
and open toward hope, even if
we aren’t certain,
even if
 we feel wobbly as fawns
learning to bound
across an open summer field. 

 Tonight we turn from inattention
and open toward awe, even if
we don’t remember the way. 

The gates are opening
above a sapphire floor.
God waits. Will we come in?
     Rabbi Rachel Barenblatt 

 Selichot 

Rosh Hashanah 17b:5
The verse states: “And the Lord passed by before him, and proclaimed” (Exodus 34:6). Rabbi Yoḥanan said: Were it not explicitly written in the verse, it would be impossible to say this, as it would be insulting to God’s honor. The verse teaches that the Holy One, Blessed be He, wrapped Himself in a prayer shawl like a prayer leader and showed Moses the structure of the order of the prayer. He said to him: Whenever the Jewish people sin, let them act before Me in accordance with this order. Let the prayer leader wrap himself in a prayer shawl and publicly recite the thirteen attributes of mercy, and I will forgive them. 

 Adonai Adonai 

יְהֹוָ֣ה ׀ יְהֹוָ֔ה אֵ֥ל רַח֖וּם וְחַנּ֑וּן אֶ֥רֶךְ אַפַּ֖יִם וְרַב־חֶ֥סֶד וֶאֱמֶֽת׃ (ז) נֹצֵ֥ר חֶ֙סֶד֙ לָאֲלָפִ֔ים נֹשֵׂ֥א עָוֺ֛ן וָפֶ֖שַׁע וְחַטָּאָ֑ה וְנַקֵּה֙ 

 Adonai, Adonai, Eyl rahum v’hanun, ereh apa-yim v’rav hesed ve-emet. No-tzeyr hesed la-alafim, nosey avon va-fe-sha v’hata-a v’nakey. 

Adonai, Adonai You tube video

 Avinu Malkeenu:
Avinu Malkeinu chaneinu va’aneinu, ki ein banu ma-a-sim,
aseih imanu tz’dakah vachesed v’hoshi-einu. 

 Avinu Malkeinu, be gracious and answer us, for we have little merit. Treat us generously and with kindness, and be our help. 

Eternal One of forgiveness
Searcher of hearts
Revealer of deep thoughts
Proclaimer of righteousness
Good and benevolent to Your creatures
Knower of all secrets
Provider for the righteous
We have sinned before You
Be merciful with us. 

Sh’ma Koleinu 

שְׁמַע קוֹלֵֽנוּ יהוה אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ, חוּס וְרַחֵם עָלֵֽינוּ, וְקַבֵּל בּרַחֲמיִם וּבְרָצוֹן אֶת־תְּפִלָּתֵֽנוּ. הֲשִׁיבֵֽנוּ יהוה אֵלֶֽיךָ וְנָשֽׁוּבָה חַדֵּשׁ יָמֵֽינוּ כְּקֶֽדֶם. הֲשִׁיבֵֽנוּ יהוה אֵלֶֽיךָ וְנָשֽׁוּבָה חַדֵּשׁ יָמֵֽינוּ כְּקֶֽדֶם. אַל־תַּשְׁלִיכֵֽנוּ לְעֵת זִקְנָה כִּכְלוֹת כֹּחֵֽנוּ אַל־תַּעַזְבֵֽנוּ. 

Sh-ma ko-lei-nu A-do-nai E-lo-hei-nu, chus v’ra-cheim a-lei-nu, v’ka-beil b’ra-cha-mim, uv-ra-tson et-t’fi-la-tei-nu. Ha-shi-vei-nu A-do-nai e-le-cha v’na-shu-vah, cha-deish ya-mei-nu k’ke-dem. Al tash-li-chei-nu, l’eit zik-nah kich-lot ko-ch-einu, al ta-az-vei-nu. 

Hear us, Adonai our God, have compassion upon us and with that compassion, accept our prayer.
Help us to return to You, O God; then truly we shall return. Renew our days as in the past.
Consider our word; look into our inmost thoughts.
Do not cast us away from Your presence; do not remove Your holy spirit.
Do not dismiss us when we are old; as our strength diminishes, do not abandon us.
Loving God, do not abandon us; do not be far from us.
For You, O God, do we wait; and You, our God will answer. 

 Hashiveinu
Return O Israel, to your Eternal God;
return, all who have stumbled.
For this says the Eternal God,
the Holy One of Israel;
In returning, in peace shall you triumph;
in calm trust you shall find strength.
You are a stronghold to the poor,
a shelter from the storm,
a shade from the heat.
Infinite God, reach out to me;
let me return to You,
let me come to You.
I am alone.
Alone.
Empty-handed.
Afraid of myself.
Let me come to You.
Reach out to me.
You are a shelter from the storm,
a shade from the heat.
Return O Israel, to your Eternal God.
Behold how the Eternal One does great things with this people!
Behold the Most High, who heaps miracle upon wonder!
Return O Israel, return!
You are a stronghold to the poor,
a crown of glory to all who stumble and fall,
to all who rise and return! 

הֲשִׁיבֵ֨נוּ יְהוָ֤ה ׀ אֵלֶ֙יךָ֙ ונשוב [וְֽנָשׁ֔וּבָה] חַדֵּ֥שׁ יָמֵ֖ינוּ כְּקֶֽדֶם׃ 

Take us back, O LORD, to Yourself, And we will come back; Renew our days as of old! (Lamentations 5:21) 

 Summer Day
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean—
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down—
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life? 

     Mary Oliver 

Shofar
Baruch ata Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha-olam asher kidshanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu lishmoa kol shofar. 

Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Ruler of the universe, who has made us holy with commandments, and who has commanded us to hear the voice of the shofar. 

 Baruch ata Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha-olam shehecheyanu v’kiyimanu v’higiyanu lazman ha-zeh. 

Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Ruler of the universe, for giving us life, for sustaining us, and for enabling us to reach this season.

Oh Lord, let this new year be for us and for our children a year of awe and amazement, blessing, courage, compassion and creativity. May we dream boldly, exhibit empathy, enjoy families, friendship and fun. May we be generous, gracious and grateful, honest and hopeful. May we be blessed with intelligence and ingenuity, joyfulness and justice. May we be kind. May we love and be loved. May we experience music and motherhood and nature. May we be optimistic. May we be patient and persistent. May we experience quietude, respect and reverence. May we be sincere and spiritually fulfilled. May we embrace your Torah. May we be united in Your service to improve the world around us. May this be a year of vigor and wisdom, yearning and zeal for good causes. May we be blessed as we go on our way
Rabbi Margaret Frisch Klein

With many thanks to the Bayit for some of these modern words.

 

. 

 

Nitzavim 5783: Be Strong and Courageous. Have Hope

“Surely, this Instruction which I enjoin upon you this day is not too baffling for you, nor is it beyond reach. It is not in the heavens, that you should say, “Who among us can go up to the heavens and get it for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it?” Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, “Who among us can cross to the other side of the sea and get it for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it?” No, the thing is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to observe it (Deut. 30:11-14).” 

This morning I asked each of you to come up here, on the bimah, to ascend the bima. You should be right here. That’s because each of you should have access to Torah. Each of you stood at Sinai. Each of you is standing here today. Each of you is a part of what we do. Each of you is a part of the Jewish people. Is part of the Jewish community. Is part of this community. 

All of us…we are all here. Standing together. 

According to Rabbi Menachem Creditor: “Just as the Israelites in the desert transitioned from one generation’s experiences to the next, each generation has a mandate to ensure the resilience and strength of the next. As we witness the challenges of today… we recognize the importance of preparing them for the responsibilities they will inherit after our best attempts. We are called to give what wisdom we’ve received and to do the good we can, knowing all the while that our biggest mandate is to become less necessary for our descendants’ welfares. Our role, as the current generation in charge, is to equip them with the lessons of the past and the courage, conviction, and wisdom they will need to navigate their complex world.” 

This portion is about hope. Hope for the future. Recently, I sat with a family that was told there is no more hope. There were many tears. Fear seems to be the opposite of hope. Fear of the unknown. Fear of being alone. Fear of not knowing what will come after. 

This week we will mark the anniversary of September 11th. Do you remember the fear? Do you remember the questions in the aftermath? One of them was “Where was G-d.” At one of the many services in Boston (two of those planes had left from Logan), the Rev. Larry Zimmerman attempted to answer that question. He said that G-d was with the first responders who rushed in. G-d was with the people who stood on street corners handing out peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. G-d cried as all of us cried.” 

This week we also the beginning of football season. Sometimes people pray that G-d is on their side. That’s never my prayer. I pray for a clean game, for a fair game and for no injuries. 

This portion promises us that G-d will be with us.  

Being with G-d means we are not alone. We are never alone. That gives us strength and courage. It gives us hope.  

During the month of Elul we read Psalm 27 as part of our preparation for Rosh Hashanah.  It begins with telling us not to fear and it ends with hope: 

Look to the LORD;
be strong and of good courage!
O look to the LORD! (Psalm 27:14) 

Last night we read some poetry about this psalm. But today’s Torah portion also tells us to have to be strong and courageous:: 

“Be strong and courageous
Do not fear them or be in dread of them.
For it is indeed your G-d who marches with you, and will not fail you or forsake you.” (Deut. 31:6) 

 Then Moses calls Joshua and, before all the people, says to him: 

 “Be strong and courageous…
G-d will be with you and will not fail or forsake you.
Fear not and do not be dismayed.” (Deut. 31:8)

Later, G-d charges Joshua: 

 “Be strong and courageous:
for you shall bring the Israelites into the land that I promised them on oath,
and I will be with you.” (Deut. 31:23) 

The Book of Joshua soon commences with G-d delivering the same message to Joshua: 

 “Be strong and courageous for you shall apportion to this people the land…
You must be very strong and courageous to observe faithfully all the Teaching that my servant Moses enjoined on you…
Be strong and courageous.
Do not be terrified or afraid.
For G-d, your G-d, is with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:6-9) 

This seems to be the perfect lead up to the High Holy Days, often called the Yamim Noaraim, the Days of Awe, The Days of Fear and Trembling. Maybe we don’t have to have so much fear. G-d is with us. All of us. All of us together. 

Life is complicated. Messy. Filled with things that don’t fit our preconceived notions of what we were supposed to do.  

Rabbi Lord Sacks said, “Things happen. We are blown by passing winds, caught up in problems not of our making, and we drift. When that happens, whether to individuals, institutions, or nations, we grow old. We forget who we are and why. Eventually we are overtaken by people (or organisations or cultures) that are younger, hungrier, or more driven than us. 

The only way to stay young, hungry, and driven is through periodic renewal, reminding ourselves of where we came from, where we are going, and why. To what ideals are we committed? What journey are we called on to continue? Of what story are we a part?” 

So as we stand here today, all of us. Our leaders, our young ones, the strangers within our gates, the wood choppers and water drawers. All of us. What do we want to be? What kind of community are we building? What world are we leaving behind for our children and our children’s children? 

It is not so far into the heavens or across the sea. It is right here, right now.  

Adon Olam ends with this verse: 

B’yado afkid ruchi
b’et ishan v’a’irah.
V’im ruchi g’viyati,
Adonai li v’lo ira. 

 Into Your hand, I place my spirit
When I sleep as when I wake
And when my spirit leave
G-d is with me. I shall not fear.  

 We can do it. Together.  

As we enter the Yamim Nora’im:

May you be strong and courageous,
And not fear,
Secure in the knowledge
that G-d is with you.
You are not alone. 

The Parliament of World Religions

(It took a while to write this one up!)
This past week I attended the Parliament of World Religions which was held at McCormick Place in Chicago. The first Parliament was held in 1893 in Chicago. I remember that one of my husband’s great aunts spoke at the very first one so I was excited to go. I have been engaged in interfaith dialogue since I was in college. I am currently the co-president of the Coalition of Elgin Religious Leaders. 
 

At this year’s Parliament there were 200 religions and 80 countries represented.  

Getting from Elgin to McCormick Place is not the easiest, however I managed to get there (and back!) Those are stories for another time. For me, this brought a lot of parts of my rabbinate together. It was worth the effort. 

My first session was listed in room 271b. I couldn’t find that one at first, so I stopped in 271e. It was about a call to conscience through liminality of a global ethic.  The premise is that this is liminal time, something talk about a lot. The best part of the session was a discussion on what they called reverent listening. Like active listening, this takes it to another level making listening something to be done with respect. It becomes a holy action. It was very affirming. 

Next, I wandered over to the session I had really wanted to go to about why the interfaith movement is crucial in this time. The presenters were the Chief Rabbi of Ireland and a professor of Hindu from India who was talking about the need for religious diversity. While his example of the work he is doing in the UAE building a synagogue, church and mosque was welcome by the participants, she had a answer questions about what some called Hindu Nationalism and the persecution of Muslims in India. That part was quite uncomfortable. And while she maintained her composure and assured those gathered that the political aims in current day India are not normative Hinduism, people were not at all happy. 

I was thrilled however to meet the chief rabbi of Ireland and snap a selfie. He was warm, personable and recognized my rabbinate as a women even within his Orthodox world. One of the things that he said that I found so affirming, is that people who do this kind of interfaith relations are most often secure in their faith. That would be true for me. I find that when I engage in these kinds of deep conversations about religion, it is not about convincing someone that my way is better, it is about sharing some of the things that are most important. Every religion talks about kindness and compassion. Understanding how is important.  

Next, I wandered through the women’s village. They had a Red Tent created with beautiful weavings and tapestries. There was a tree made up of corrugated cardboard as the truck and post-it notes that you could write a wish for the planet and your intention for some action to heal the world. That was a very powerful experience for me. I wrote that it is my intention to continue to heal my community. There was an opportunity to create a crown. So for those of you who asked whether I would be wearing a tiara, I now have a new one. And there was an opportunity to be interviewed, which I did. 

They asked three questions: 

How does your faith inspire you toward this year’s Parliament theme of a Call to Conscience? 

My faith includes the idea that we are all created b’tzelem Elohim. In the image of God. All means all, using U-46 School District’s Mission Statement. The idea of tikkun olam, repairing the world, comes from an old story of the Zohar. When G-d created the world, the light was initially in a clay jar. The light was so bright, it exploded the vessel. Finding those sparks and bringing the pieces back together, is what we need to do. We all need to do. Finding and seeing the divine spark in every person is part of recognizing that we are all created b’tzelem elohim, in the image of G-d. Meeting people where they are and fighting for justice for all, welcoming the widow, the orphan, the sojourner, the most marginalized amongst us is central to my core. This week, our liturgial calendar, includes a very famous line from Torah, “Tzedek, tzedek tirdoff, justice, justice shall you pursue.” This is something that we have to actively pursue, chase after, run after. I welcome the opportunity to pursue justice.  

How does your faith inform you to protect the dignity and human rights for women? 

I’ve worked tirelessly to protect the rights of women. That includes rights of women to worship as they see fit with organizations like Women of the Wall in Israel, fighting to maintain the rights of women to worship at the Western Wall. To work for equal access to health care for women, including rights for reproductive freedom and abortion rights. I actually, and still surprisingly to me sit on a local Catholic Hospital board for precisely this reason. I am a member of NCJW, T’ruah, and the Community Crisis Center. I have served on a rape crisis hotline. And as a sexual assault survivor I have written a book called Enduring Spirit that helps survivors of domestic violence and sexual assault use the spiral of the Jewish year to help with healing so that they can, we hope, thrive again.  

What is your responsibility as a woman of your faith to protect our next generation of children? 

Maybe because we are sitting here, near the climate tree, I am reminded of the story about Honi. Honi was walking on a road and he spied a man (it’s alwys a man in these stories, right?) planting a tree. He asked when it will bear fruit. The man answers not for 70 years. Honi wonders why bother, then since you won’t get to use it? The answer is “Just as my ancestors planted for me, so too do I plant for my children and grandchildren.” We all have an obligation to do what we can to protect this world for the generations yet to come. I am proud of this year’s B-Mitzvah students, two of whom are actively engaged in projects to help the environment, That is part of my responsibility too.  

After filming my interview, I wandered through the exhibition hall and then found my friend Ziona Zelazo who was in from New Jersey. We attended a session on Jewish and Hindu storytelling. Really, they are not so different!  

We went to a booth that was helping people made art work out of pieces of guns. And then, living out the quote from Micah, I pounded the barrel of a gun into a flat piece that later will be turned into gardening tools. 

“And everyone ‘neath their vine and fig tree shall live in peace and unafraid. They shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.” 

I have sung it in Washington. I have sung it with Peter Paul and Mary. At any number of youth group events. George Washington quoted it in his letter to the Jewish community of Newport Rhode Island, It is part of our weekly prayer for our country. It, too, is core to my being.  

Yehudah Amichai added to that verse: 

Don’t stop after beating the swords
into plowshares, don’t stop!
Go on beating
and make musical instruments out of them.
Whoever wants to make war again
will have to turn them into plowshares first.
– Yehuda Amichai
p. 777, Kol Haneshemah (Wyncote, PA: The Reconstructionist Press, 1996) 

There was a musicality and a rhythm to my pounding. It was just an amazing feeling. It felt like many of the social justice things I have worked on came together in that brief moment,  

Then I walked on a labyrinth which helped cement my commitment to my path. I love labyrinths. I eagerly look forward to walking the one at the University of Michigan Botanic Garden. It is part of my High Holy Day prep. If you haven’t tried one to enrich your own spirituality, I highly recommend it, There are several labyrinths in the Elgin area. One at Saint Joseph hospital. One at St. Alexius. One at the UU church on Highland.  

After that, with a nod to my beloved Lake Michigan, it was time to find a cab, a train and my way back to Elgin. So glad I found my courage to go.  

Shoftim 5783: Planting with Me

Did you enjoy the hazy sunrise this morning? It was beautiful. But it belies a sad fact. Yesterday morning, I awoke to the news that one of my running friends in Canada was being evacuated because of one of the Canadian wildfires. The video was terrifying.  

All summer we have been plagued. Yes, plagued by Canadian wildfire smoke. By the horrendous tragedy in Maui. By flooding and tornados right here. Oppressive, dangerous heat which will be back this week. Repeat after me. Hydrate. Hydrate. Hydrate. A tornado in Rhode Island yesterday and now a hurricane or tropical storm about to hit the Los Angeles area. They haven’t seen one in something like 84 years. What’s going on here? 

I am a lifelong Girl Scout. My love of the out-of-doors comes from many years camping, hiking, canoeing at Girl Scout camps throughout the Midwest, New England and yes, Canada.  All summer I have been haunted by an old camp song, known as “Canadian Wilderness” or “The Life of a Voyager”. 

One verse sings: 

“The call of the lonely loon
coyotes howling at the moon
wind rustling through the trees
that’s our Canadian breeze
smoke rising from the fire
up through the trees in a stately spire
breathe a sigh in the evening glow
sun goes down, those north winds blow” 

It paints a picture of canoeing from town to town and the beauty of the wilderness. 

This has been the summer of smoke. Smoke from Canada. Smoke from wildfires. Beautiful sunsets. But those sunsets belie the fact that the smoke is dangerous.  Air quality alert days. Hard to breathe. Apocalyptic looking photos. Must stay inside. 

This is not a new problem. Years ago, Canada was not happy with the United States for sending acid rain to Canada. Now we hear some Americans unhappy with Canada for the smoke. The American government has sent aid. Still, it is not enough. Those fires, multiple fires may not even be fully out until after the first snowfall. And now there are fires in Washington, Montana.  

It is not Canada’s fault alone. Climate change is real. It is hard to deny it, although some do, even in this the hottest summer ever recorded. Whatever you call it, the truth is that there have been ocean water temperatures in Florida of over 100 degrees. More than 15 days of scorching heat in the desert southwest of more than 115 degrees. Athens at 111 degrees—and Greece has fires too. Drought in Illinois leading to early fall leaves falling off trees in June. Tornados and floods and other storms. This is a global problem. It demands a global solution. Not years from now. Right now. 

It also demands spiritual discipline. My friend, Rabbi Katy Allen considers herself an earth chaplain. She has been working on helping to preserve the earth for decades. I have spent Shabbat out in nature with her. Hiked with her. Harvested cranberries from a cranberry bog. Commuted to New York together to save gas. Listened to her story of her hand crocheted rainbow kippah and how she considers it a symbol of the climate crisis. Every year she publishes a series of readings during the month of Elul called Earth Etudes for Elul. Mine which includes much of today’s talk, will be published on Thursday, August 24th 

She is not the only Jewish leader working on our climate crisis.  

Why are we talking about this topic today? Because while this portion contains one of the most famous quotes in Torah, “tzedek, tzedek tirdof, Justice, Justice shall you pursue,” But the full portion today also has the concept of bal taschit. Do not destroy or waste unnecessarily 

Based on the quote, later in our portion: “When in your war against a city you have to besiege it a long time in order to capture it, you must not destroy its trees, wielding the ax against them. You may eat of them, but you must not cut them down.” You must not destroy. The Talmud makes this more universal than just a prohibition during wartime in order to include other forms of senseless damage or waste,  

The Talmud applies the principle to extend to preventing the wasting of lamp oil, the tearing of clothing, the chopping up of furniture for firewood, or the killing of animals. In his explanation of this law, the Chinuch (Mitzvah 529) writes that “it is the practice of very righteous people not to waste anything, even a grain of mustard”. 

The logic behind this principle is that if even in a time of war one could not destroy fruit trees, all the more so,  one should not destroy or waste anything under normal circumstances. This talmudic principle of exegesis is called a kal v’homer, and is recongized in American jurisprudence as well. The Talmud even goes so far as to state that “…one who tears his clothes or breaks his vessels or scatters his money in anger should be considered like an idol worshipper (Shabbat 105b; and .Shabbat 67b).” 

The Rambam in the Mishneh Torah says it this way: 

“And not only [does bal taschit apply] to trees; rather, anyone who destroys dishes, or tears clothes, or demolishes a building, or stops up a spring, or destroys food in anger– [that person] transgresses the law of bal taschit.” 

There are modern day applications of this including the growing field of Jewish environmentalism, and Jewish vegetarianism.  

We are now in Elul, preparing for the Yamim No’raim, the Days of Awe. Yesterday as part of my weekly Weight Watchers meeting, we reviewed the concept of takling an awe walk. I love that tradition and I often snap a photo of some piece of beauty, a sunset, a flower. But awe also carries with it a sense of fear and trembling. The dictionary definition is “a feeling of reverential respect mixed with fear or wonder.”  

One of the first steps in teshuvah, returning, repentance is confessing our sins. 

Part of the Yom Kippur liturgy is reciting Al Chet, “ For the sin which we have sinned…” Here are few new verses for this emergency: 

For the sin which we have sinned by not taking care of the earth.
And for the sin which we have sinned with our haughtiness. 

For the sin which we have sinned by not listening to and believing scientists
And for the sin which we have sinned by denying what is happening. 

For the sin which we have sinned by not realizing how interconnected we are.
And for the sin which we have sinned by not recognizing that our individual actions impact others, 

 For the sin which we have sinned by our reliance on fossil fuels.
And for the sin which we have sinned by not developing and using alternative energy sources.  

 For the sin which we have sinned by not protecting our waterways.
And for the sin which we have sinned by not providing drinkable water. 

 For the sin which we have sinned by continuing to purchasing to excess
And for the sin which we have sinned by using too much packaging. 

For the sin which we have sinned by wanting food at any time from anywhere.
And for the sin which we have sinned by not supporting local farms and buying food “in season.” 

For the sin which we have sinned by refusing to act.
And for the sin which we have sinned by refusing to protect our inheritance for the next generations. 

For all of these sins, O G-d of Creation, pardon us, forgive us, grant us atonement
For all of these sins, Ruler of the whole Universe, inspire us, strengthen us and give us the courage to repair Your world. 

This week I attended the Parliament of World Religions. It was founded right here in Chicago in 1893. If you go to the Art Institute, you will find a plaque over the door commemorating the first one. This year there were 200 Religions and 80 countries represented. As part of the events, I was asked to film an interview in the women’s tent. I ended my thoughts with the story of Honi.   

We’ve told this story before—and it also reminds me of the story of the starfish.  

One day, Honi Hame’agel was walking along a road. He came upon an old man planting a carob tree. Honi asked him when he thought the tree would bear fruit. The man replied not for 70 years. Honi asked if he thought he would live for seventy years and he would benefit from his planting. He answered, just as my ancestors planted for me, so too do I plant for my children and grandchildren. 

 Think you can’t make a difference? Our B-Mitzvah kids are. One is putting in a butterfly garden. Another is raising money for Surfrider.  Come plant with us! 

Eikev: How Do We Listen?

Last week we read the “prayer” the Sh’ma from the Torah itself. It is an interesting “prayer”. It says, Hear, O Israel, the Lord our G-d, the Lord is one.” Six words in Hebrew. In the Torah itself the last letter of Sh’ma and the last letter of Echad are always written larger. Ayin and Dalet spell Ad, meaning witness. When we proclaim the Sh’ma outloud we are witnessing that G-d is one. Sometimes, I have seen Echad translated as alone or unique, even in this morning’s tranlation in Siddur Sim Shalom. Another reason the dalet is larger is to avoid any confusion with raish. Sh’ma Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu Adonai Achar, would mean “Listen Israel, the Lord our G-d, the Lord is Other” That would mean a whole other thing. 

This prayer is the central proclamation of our faith. G-d is One, Alone, Unique. As Mi Chamocha from the Song of the Sea says, “Who is Like You?” And that question is answered in the Torah Service, Ayn Kamocha. “No one is like You.”  

Deuteronomy is a different kind of book than the previous four books of Torah. It is a summary of our history. A long soliloquy. An ethical will of Moses’s. His parting swan song. It contains many of the core ideas of Judaism. 

But what about the word Sh’ma., itself? It means something like listen, hear, heed, obey, pay attention.  It appears 92 times in the Book of Deuteronomy and our portion today begins with it. It begins with the sentence “It shall come to pass if you surely listen to these laws. (Deut 7:12) . 

As Moses speaks to his people he is begging them to pay attention. To hear what he is saying. To hear what G-d is saying. Our portion includes the middle paragraph of the V’ahavta, which beings, “V’haya im shamo’a tishm’u el mitzvotai…If you listen, really listen, heed the commandments…” (Deut. 11:13) Again we have the use of the root Sh’ma. 

Rabbi Lord Sacks says that Judaism is a religion of listening and that this is one of its most original contributions to civilization.  

Listen carefully. Rabbi David Cook pointed out that the metaphor of listening and hearing as a way of understanding even influences our Talmudic debate. Ta Sh’ma, Come and hear. Ka Mshama lan, It teaches us this. Shema Mina, Infer from this. Lo shmiya lei, He did not agree. All of these are from the root Sh’ma, to listen. You can hear the root Sh’ma in each of those. 

Listen carefully. Lord Rabbi Sacks taught that our modern society was built on the two pillars of ancient Greece and ancient Israel. He argued that ancient Greece was built on a culture of seeing. We even have that maxim that “seeing is believing.” “This idea – that knowing is seeing – remains the dominant metaphor in the West even today. We speak of insight, foresight, and hindsight. We offer an observation. We adopt a perspective. We illustrate. We illuminate. We shed light on an issue. When we understand something, we say, “I see.” 

Laiten carefully. Judaism, however, is based on hearing. We cannot see G-d but if we listen to the still small voice that Elijah spoke of, we may hear G-d. And we believe that G-d can hear us. We count on that when we beg G-d in prayers like SH’ma Koleinu, (Hear that root Sh’ma again?) that G-d will hear us and we will not be alone.  

Sacks continued: “This may seem like a small difference, but it is in fact a huge one. For the Greeks, the ideal form of knowledge involved detachment. There is the one who sees, the subject, and there is that which is seen, the object, and they belong to two different realms. A person who looks at a painting or a sculpture or a play in a theatre or the Olympic games is not an active part of the art or the drama or the athletic competition. They are acting as a spectator, not a participant. Speaking and listening are not forms of detachment. They are forms of engagement. They create a relationship. The Greeks taught us the forms of knowledge that come from observing and inferring, namely science and philosophy. The first scientists and the first philosophers came from Greece from the sixth to the fourth centuries BCE.” 

“But not everything can be understood by seeing and appearances alone. Jews and Judaism taught that we cannot see God, but we can hear Him and He hears us. It is through the word – speaking and listening – that we can have an intimate relationship with God as our parent, our partner, our sovereign, the One who loves us and whom we love. We cannot demonstrate God scientifically. We cannot prove God logically. These are Greek, not Jewish, modes of thought. I believe that from a Jewish perspective, trying to prove the existence of God logically or scientifically is a mistaken enterprise. God is not an object but a subject. The Jewish mode is to relate to God in intimacy and love, as well as awe and reverence.” 

In our house we spend a lot of time talking about hearing and listening. Sometimes we yell, just to be heard. Sometimes we text. Sometimes we sit at the kitchen table eating Shabbat dinner sharing news stories on our phones. Did you see this one? What do you think about this? Sometimes we touch each other on the arm so we know the other is paying attention. We’ve tried making sure that we are each looking at the other. Make no mistake. It is frustrating. For both of us. 

The Talmud teaches, specifically about the Sh’ma that in order for it to count, to fulfill your obligation to say it, it has to be said out loud. Your ears have to hear what your mouth is saying. What does that mean if you are hearing impaired? That too is something we debate in our house.  

Sacks reminded us something I have taught before. Psychotherapy, which Sigmund Freud called the “speaking cure:” Is based on the idea that when you participate in therapy, your own ears hear what your mouth is saying. And sometimes those comments are reflected back by the therapist. Sacks said that it could be described therefore as the “listening cure”.It was only after the spread of psychoanalysis, especially in America, that the phrase “I hear you” came into the English language as a way of communicating empathy.” 

Listening is profoundly spiritual. For Sacks it is the most effective form of conflict resolution.  He argues that: “Many things can create conflict, but what sustains it is the feeling on the part of at least one of the parties that they have not been heard. They have not been listened to. We have not “heard their pain”. There has been a failure of empathy.”  

 “Listening lies at the very heart of relationship. It means that we are open to the other, that we respect them, that their perceptions and feelings matter to us. We give them permission to be honest, even if this means making ourselves vulnerable in so doing. A good parent listens to their child. A good employer listens to their workers. A good company listens to its customers or clients. A good leader listens to those they are leading. Listening does not mean agreeing but it does mean caring. Listening is the climate in which love and respect grow.” 

Sacks’ d’var Torah resonated with me. But he doesn’t answer how we do this. How do we listen to one another with love and empathy?  

As we begin to approach the High Holy Days, our confession of sins include more that have to do with speech than any other. Perhaps there should also be some that have to do with listening.  

Listening is a big part of our lives. We use listening skills to: 

  • to obtain information. 
  • to understand. 
  • for enjoyment. 
  • to learn. 

Marshall Rosenberg designed a school of communication called “Non Violent Communication.” It is based on and Active Listening skills. Perhaps some of you in your work lives have even attended workshops on this very topic. But those skills bear repeating as a way of redoubling our efforts to be kind, to be compassionate, to be empathetic. : 

Yet according to one source, we only retain 25%-50% of what we hear. https://www.mindtools.com/az4wxv7/active-listening (The study cited was done in 1947. I suspect the percentage may even be worse!) The article went on to repeat those active listening skils: 

1 . Pay Attention 

  • Give the speaker your undivided attention, and acknowledge the message. Recognize that non-verbal communication also “speaks” loudly.  
  • Look at the speaker directly. 
  • Put aside distracting thoughts. (and electronic devices!) 
  • Don’t mentally prepare a rebuttal! 
  • Avoid being distracted by environmental factors. For example, side conversations. 
  • “Listen” to the speaker’s body language. 
  1. Show That You’re Listening
  • Use your own body language and gestures to show that you are engaged. 
  • Nod occasionally. 
  • Smile and use other facial expressions. 
  • Make sure that your posture is open and interested. 
  • Encourage the speaker to continue with small verbal comments like yes, and “uh huh.” 
  1. Provide Feedback
  • Our personal filters, assumptions, judgments, and beliefs can distort what we hear. As a listener, your role is to understand what is being said. This may require you to reflect on what is being said and to ask questions. 
  • Reflect on what has been said by paraphrasing. “What I’m hearing is… ,” and “Sounds like you are saying… ,” are great ways to reflect back. 
  • Ask questions to clarify certain points. “What do you mean when you say… .” “Is this what you mean?” 
  • Summarize the speaker’s comments periodically. 
  1. Defer Judgment
  • Interrupting is a waste of time. It frustrates the speaker and limits full understanding of the message. 
  • Allow the speaker to finish each point before asking questions. 
  • Don’t interrupt with counterarguments. 
  1. Respond Appropriately
  • Active listening is designed to encourage respect and understanding. You are gaining information and perspective. You add nothing by attacking the speaker or otherwise putting them down. 
  • Be candid, open, and honest in your response. 
  • Assert your opinions respectfully. 
  • Treat the other person in a way that you think they would want to be treated. 

This takes practice. It takes trust. It takes compassion, kindness and empathy. It takes being G-d like. As we approach the High Holy Days, I urge you to listen. Listen carefully. Maybe then, as we hear each other, we will also hear the still small voice of G-d and know that G-d is listening.  

 

Mattot-Masei 5783: Vow, Gratitude and Tornados

Today we are going to do something we don’t usually do. We are going to help one individual make a “birkat hagomel” a blessing on surviving a dangerous situation. Our prayerbook. Siddur Sim Shalom, tells us that this special blessing is to be recited by “one who has recovered from a serious illness returned safely from a long journey [usually stated as over an ocean) or survived a life-threatening crisis (including childbirth).” Sadly, in this country, childbirth still counts as a life-threatening occurrence. I talked about that recently.  

While, there is an individual here who recently had a brain tumor removed, and we are thankful it was beneign, I have the feeling that after two nights of tornado warnings and 11 that touched down in northern Illinois, some right in Elgin, many of us in room may feel that we have survived. As far as I can ascertain, no one in our immediate community has suffered any damage. As far as I know no one in Elgin had any injuries. NO injuries. That is a clear reason for Birkat Hagomel. 

And then, one more reason. We have a member whose apartment sustained a fire. But again—no injuries, and the cat was rescued too! (Update—no damage to her unit and she is fully insured) Another reason for Birkat Hagomel. We’ll wait for that one until she is here. 

The language for Birkat HaGomel has interested me for a while. Usually translated in flowery language as someone who bestows. Who bestows favor or goodness or chesed, lovingkindness. G-d bestows favor upon me. But if you listen carefully you hear the root, g-m-l, like the letter gimmel, a pictogram for a gamal, a camel. A camel is an animal that is filled up and can then nourish us with water in the desert. So each of us who is feeling deep gratitude today has been filled up with G-d’s goodness. 

There is a connection here with today’s Torah portion as well. 

“If a householder makes a vow to יהוה or takes an oath imposing an obligation on himself, he shall not break his pledge; he must carry out all that has crossed his lips.” (Numbers 30:3) 

As we begin to approach the High Holy Days with its plantif sounds of Kol Nidre, All vows, it is important to understand this verse. We know that there is no accident when a word is repeated in the Torah. It is usually there for emphasis. It is a chance to sit up and take notice. In this verse we have three words that seem to mean something very similar. Vow, Oath and Pledge. So what is going on here? 

First lets see if we can figure out what each of those mean? Are they just synonyms or do they mean something different?  

Vow: in Hebrew Nedar
solemnly promise to do a specified thing. 

“I vowed that my family would never go hungry” 

ARCHAIC 

dedicate to someone or something, especially a deity. 

“I vowed myself to this enterprise” 

The most common use seems to be wedding vows. I promise to love and cherish you all the days of my life til death do us part. 

the word “neder” is mentioned 33 times in the Torah, 19 of which occur in Numbers, the book we finish reading today. A neder is a kind of vow or oath. It may consist of preforming some kind of act in the future or abstaining for some kind of act. It could mean taking on an obligation. In the Orthodox community, not making a vow is taken so seriously that you often hear the phrase” I will do x, y or z, bli neder, without a vow.”  

Oath: in Hebrew, shevua
a solemn promise, often invoking a divine witness, regarding one’s future action or behavior. 

“they took an oath of allegiance to the king” 

Both Neder and Shevua appear in the language of Kol Nidre.  

Pledge:  

a solemn promise or undertaking. 

“the conference ended with a joint pledge to limit pollution” 

a thing that is given as security for the fulfillment of a contract or the payment of a debt and is liable to forfeiture in the event of failure. 

“he had given the object as a pledge to a creditor” A wedding ring is an example of this kind of pledge. 

 

Our system of rabbinic Judaism has many obligations. We are obligated to do x, y, z. It can be as simple as saying the morning Sh’ma–and we might even argue and debate until when we can do so, as they do in the Talmud—or even who is obligated. But once that obligation is taken upon by ourselves it is an obligation for all time. 

Fast forward to the High Holy days. Now comes Kol Nidre. “All vows we are likely to make, all oaths and pledges we are likely to take between this Yom Kippur and the next Yom Kippur, we publicly renounce. Let them all be relinquished and abandoned, null and void, neither firm nor established. Let our vows, pledges and oaths be considered neither vows nor pledges nor oaths.” 

This sounds like it is in the future tense. Aren’t we asking forgiveness for things we have done in the past year? Why then are we renouncing our vows to come? 

Shrouded in mystery, there are theories about Kol Nidre’s origins. Perhaps, as one popular theory has it, it takes to the time of the Spanish Inquisition, where Jews were forced to renounce their Judaism and convert to Christianity. Nonetheless the remained hidden Jews, crypto-Jews, practicing Judaism secretly in the privacy of their homes. These cypto-Jews created Kol Nidrei to nullify their vows of conversion before God. The formal and legalistic nature of the prayer lends validity to this theory. However, most scholars date Kol Nidrei to much early times. It is very similar to contracts written by the Babylonian Jewish community in the 6th and 7th century.  

Kol Nidre is a legal formula to annul vows. It is said before a court—three judges, upstanding members of the community, holding at least one Torah, before the open ark as witnesses. As such, it must be completed before sundown on the evening of Yom Kippur, just before the holy day actually begins. The response is instantons. “I have forgiven you according to your word.”  

Swearing or making an oath or a vow is a very serious undertaking. It is one of the 10 Commandments. It is similar to making a covenant, a brit. If you do x, then I will do y and it is binding.  

There are several reasons one might make a nedar: personal piety as a way of making a commitment to the Torah and mitzvot, personal improvement, as a way of improving ones behavior for the better, in times of need, essentially bargaining with G-d, for instance if there is a health crisis or you want to pass that math test. One of the biggest forms of a neder is for gratitude. You might have made a vow this week as you were hiding in a basement. “If no damage occurs to my house, then I will go to shul. If I get out of this alive, then I will keep kosher. Very similar to the Birkat Hagomel.  

In preparing for this morning, I learned that we should be especially careful when it comes to charity pledges. According to many rabbinic authorities, even if you just mentally decide to give to a charity but didn’t verbalize it, it is a binding vow. In the old days, when the Holy Temple stood in Jerusalem, this is based on the verse, “Hezekiah answered and said, ‘Now you have invested yourselves to the L‑rd; come close and bring [peace] offerings . . . and every generous-hearted one, burnt offerings,’”6 which refers to voluntary commitments or “contributions” made in one’s heart to bring a burnt offering to the Temple. Rabbi Yosef Caro rules that nowadays, since donations aren’t made to the Temple, a charitable vow must be verbalized to be binding. Rabbi Moshe Isserles, however, rules that even nowadays, if one made a firm commitment8 in his mind to make a charitable contribution, it is binding like a vow, and one should be extra careful to keep his commitment. This becomes especially important as our new fiscal year begins. A vow is about honoring our commitments and must be taken as a binding and serious obligation.  

What then do we do with this week’s verse? I think it is a call to really watch our speech, very, very carefully. If you don’t think you are going to fulfill your obligation, don’t promise to do something.  

Independence Day 2023, 5783

This weekend marks the start of my 12th year as your rabbi at Congregation Kneseth Israel. It is a real honor to stand before you each week, to teach and to learn with you, to accompany you on life’s sacred journey. This past weekend included a funeral, services Friday and Saturday, two shiva minyanim, and the ongoing planning of a baby naming, a Bar Mitzvah and a wedding. I appreciate that you put your trust in me.  

It’s not a secret. 4th of July is (or was before Caleb) my favorite holiday. It was a command performance. No one ever asked where I would be for Rosh Hashanah or Passover. It was are you coming for the 4th. It was one big, week-long party. Independence Day, a step-daughter’s birthday on the 5th, my mother’s on the 6th and my father’s on the 7th. There was a ritual to it. Food. Family. Friends, Fun. Fireworks. Flags, Parades. The pool and annual croquet tournament. Food included deviled eggs, the largest bowl of guacamole and something called ham balls—which work perfectly well with ground turkey! And late at night, after the fireworks, a trip through an authentic Mexican drive through. And even later a midnight trip to the original Meijers to buy grout for my mother’s aging tiles.  

I miss that this week. It isn’t the same as it was. Those fireworks make me and Caleb nuts. Some of the people are no longer with us. The parade no longer goes by my track mom’s house.  

I no longer return to Grand Rapids for the 4th. This year Simon and I are going to California to do the wedding of the daughter of congregants. We’ll get to spend some time with the step-daughter on her birthday. And before you know it, we’ll be back.  

When I get back, I will plan a workshop to help people learn to lead a shiva minyan and another one to learn to lead a Friday night service. Some of you already can. Some would like a refresher course. And some want to learn from the beginning.  

I had forgotten this, but a good friend, a Catholic priest reminded me. Last year, like the Jewish community of Richmond, VA, we wrote a prayer for our country for the 4th of July. What would we as a community pray for this year? I think it might be the same prayer.  

July 4th, 2022:
A prayer for our country, written by Congregation Kneseth Israel, Elgin, Illinois, on the occasion of Independence Day Weekend, 2022, 5782  

O Lord our G-d, we gather to pray for our country as Jews have done for centuries. We pray as our ancestors did, Abraham, and Isaac and Jacob, Sarah, and Rebecca, Rachel and Leah and our American forefathers: George, and Thomas, and Samuel, and Alexander, Abigail, and Martha, Anne and Rebecca, each of whom had a vision of this country.  

We pray for our leaders and our democracy. Preserve our nation and our democracy. Restore its image in the world. Allow us to be a light to the nations, a shining light on the hill. Cause a new light to shine.  

Awake and arise to the knowledge that we all are made in the image of the Divine, created to pursue life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. All of us.  

May our citizens remember to do unto others as they wish others to do unto them. To love our neighbors as ourselves. To take care of the widow, the orphan and the stranger  

Enlighten our leaders. Give them insight and compassion.  

 

Remember our Constitution and preserve it.  

Invigorate our commitment. Empower us to work for the day when liberty is proclaimed for everyone.  

Cause them to administer justice equally to all.  

Amen! Selah. So may it be so.  

Give us strength. Give us strength to turn our anger into action, to return to the vision of this country. Give us hope. Give us joy. Give us peace so that everyone can sit under their vine and fig tree and none shall make them afraid. 

 

So however you celebrate tomorrow, may there be food, family, friends, fun, fireworks, flags and a chance to reflect on our place in America and why we are proud to be American Jews or Jewish Americans. That is a debate for another time.  

Pride Shabbat 5783

This past Friday night, on the last day of Pride Month, Congregation Kneseth Israel paused to mark Pride Shabbat. We had special readings, a special Oneg Shabbat with rainbow food and the Elgin Police Department Pride squad car showed up. I’ve marked pride for years and given sermons about it for as long as I can remember but I think this is the first time we have marked it with announcements in advance, allowing more people to participate. There was more excitement than I anticipated and some push back, which I did anticipate.  

Here were my remarks and the readings.  

Why does Pride matter? Why does Pride matter to the Jewish community? I tried to answer that earlier in the week.  

For me, it is simple. We, as a Jewish community need to be allies. We need to support those Jews who consider themselves LGBTQ+. We need safe, non-judgmental spaces, for all. In this congregation it fits with our vision statement that includes “Embracing Diversity” 

For me, it is simple. When I went back to look at what I have said in the past on this topic, it is all there in black and white—or maybe rainbow colors.  

For me, it is simple. This is a question of freedom of religion. 

Over and over again, I have clergy of different stripes try to argue scripture with me. That’s fine. I relish those debates. It is helpful if they have a good grounding in Hebrew grammar. Often they bring up a troubling verse in Leviticus, just ahead of the holiness code, the most central portion of Torah that tells us to “Love our neighbors as ourselves. V’ahavta l’rayecha kamoch.” Sometimes people argue what rayecha means. I repeatedly tell you that every translation is a commentary, a midrash if you will. Rayecha could mean neighbor, kin, tribe. It could be only Jews or everyone.  

For our purposes let’s assume it means everyone—all our neighbors, Jew or gentile.  

In Chapter 18 there is a troubling verse that is the reason that many believe that homosexuality is wrong. Not only wrong but a sin an abomination.  

The King James translation says: “Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination.” (Lev 18:22) It is part of a long list of sexual sins and it is the traditional reading for Yom Kippur. Many congregations, including our own reads the Holiness Code instead, because of this verse. It is included in our machzor, high holy day prayerbook, published by the Conservative Movement’s Rabbincial Assembly with a copyright of 1972. 1972. This is not a new conversation. 

But what if the King James translation is wrong? It has set 500 years of public policy. With thanks to Rabbi David Greenstein who was the Rosh Yeshivah at the Academy for Jewish Religion, and who taught this verse as part of a class on marital relations, and later published them Let’s look at them carefully. I am no Hebrew grammarian at his level so we will use his exact words. He believes by looking deeply at the grammar of the verse, it really is a polemic against gang rape. See your high school English teacher was right; it pays to know grammar! 

It is really an elegant graceful, grammatical argument and the authors of the King James translation missed it. So for over 500 years there has been needless pain and suffering for LGBTQ folk. 

I have quoted his argument before. But it needs repeating. Again. This very week. 

“Leviticus 18:22 and 20:13 have been read for millennia as the Torah’s condemnation of homosexuality. How should we read these verses as we enter the sacred sphere with “zot,” with our conviction that we carry the Divine Presence with us – straight or queer– as we are? I submit that we may read these verses in a new way, a way that removes them entirely from the topic of homosexuality. The verse in Leviticus (18:22) is comprised of three elements – persons (V’et Zachar), forbidden acts (lo tishkav mishkevei ishah), and a term of condemnation (to’evah hi). Let us examine each element in reverse order… 

When we consider the first part of the verse, the part that mentions the persons involved in the forbidden act, we read the phrase “And with a man” / “V’et zachar.” Now, the particle et may indicate the object of an action. 

Until now our verse in Leviticus has been read to mean that a male is prohibited to make another man the object of his sex act. But this word can have another meaning. The first place where it is unambiguous that the word et is being used in another way is in the verse, “And Enoch walked with (et) the Almighty…” (Genesis 5:24). 

In that verse it is clear that the particle does not signify an object indication. Rather, it means “along with.” Now we may read the verse very differently: 

v’et zachar And along with another male lo tishkav you shall not lie 

mishkevei ishah in sexual intercourses with a woman to’evah hi it is an abomination. 

There is no prohibition of homosexual acts of any kind. Rather, the Torah prohibits two males from joining together to force intercourse upon a woman. This is a to’evah because the introduction of the second man completely transforms the act from a potentially innocent act into a manipulation that degrades the act of intercourse and makes the woman subject to violence and objectification.” 

http://www.on1foot.org/sites/default/files/Interpreting%20Leviticus%20-%203%20part%20lesson_0.pdf 

When I first studied this with Rabbi Greenstein all I could say was WOW! It was “mind blowing.” Yasher koach to Rabbi Greenstein. I wonder how much pain and suffering of those in the LGBTQ community could have avoided if King James had better translators. 

But that was then. This is now. NOW! Just today, the Supreme Court ruled on a case that would limit LGBTQ+ rights. The court said in the 6-3 vote that it is about freedom of speech. I am not a attorney. I do know that reading the Constitution is a little like parsing a page of Talmud. I haven’t had time to digest it all. It is, after all, news ripped from the headlines and I am sure it will be spun and spun again.  

“The Supreme Court Friday ruled in favor of a Christian web designer in Colorado who refuses to create websites to celebrate same-sex weddings out of religious objections. 

The 6-3 decision was penned by Justice Neil Gorsuch and joined by Chief Justice John Roberts and Justices Samuel Alito, Amy Coney Barrett, Brett Kavanaugh and Clarence Thomas. Justice Sonia Sotomayor penned a dissent joined by her liberal colleagues Justices Elena Kagan and Ketanji Brown Jackson.” https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/supreme-court/live-blog/supreme-court-decisions-student-loan-lgbtq-live-updates-rcna91936  

And while that hasn’t been time to study it, I actually see it as a slam against freedom of religion not just freedom of speech. This is not the first time courts have ruled against LGBTQ+ rights and it has the very real possibility that it could also impact our rights as Jews . But if you don’t have to do business with someone who is gay just because you don’t like that “lifestyle” then you also don’t have to do business with someone who is Jewish. You think I’m making this up? Nope. 

In 2019, South Carolina wanted to deny the rights of LGBTQ people and Jews to be foster parents.  

“The federal government agreed Wednesday to allow federally funded foster care agencies in South Carolina to deny services to same-sex or non-Christian couples. 

The waiver issued by the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services will allow Greenville’s Miracle Hill Ministries to continue as a state-supported foster care agency.” https://www.nbcnews.com/feature/nbc-out/s-c-group-can-reject-gays-jews-foster-parents-trump-n962306  

For me this is scary stuff. Yesterday, I spent part of my morning on the Museum of Tolerance where we learned, once again, the dangers of othering. That is part of what enabled ordinary people, our neighbors, agree to aid and abet Hitler. Hitler did not act alone. He used his powers of persuasion and propaganda to convince people to do the unthinkable. 

This is the last day of Pride Month. The very last. We have a smorgasbord of wonderful treats for you this evening. Thanks to Gareth, Shira, Barb, Robin and Jenny. We thank the EPD for bringing their Pride decorated squad car. But pride is more than rainbows and unicorns. We cannot afford to take our eyes off this all too important topic. It is a matter of freedom of religion—our freedom of religion. And so I am proud to stand as a Pride ally.  

Opening Reading:
May the door of this organization be wide enough

 to receive all who hunger for love, all who are lonely for friendship.
May it welcome all who have cares to unburden,
thanks to express, hopes to nurture.
May the door of this institution be narrow enough to
 shut out pettiness and pride, envy and enmity.
May its threshold be no stumbling block
to young or straying feet.
May it be too high to admit complacency, selfishness and harshness.
May this be, for all who enter, the doorway to a richer and more meaningful life. 

 From Mishkan T’Filah 

 Permission to shine:
You have permission
to laugh until you can’t speak.
And to speak until you can’t catch your breath.
You have permission to fall in love with yourself.
Or to not know which self you really are today.
You have permission to be curious, confused, clueless and aimless.
Yes, you have permission.
The rainbow spirit inside of you has been lighting up the world ever since the day you were born.
And you, in all your radiance?
Are worth being seen, however you want to be. 

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה אֲדֹנָי אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם שֶׁעָשָׂנִי בְּצֶלֶם אֱלֹהִים
Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu, Melech haolam, she-asani b’tzelem Elohim.
Blessed are you G-d, our G-d, king of the universe, that created me in the image of the Divine. 

Devon Spier, 

 

Before Ma’ariv Aravim: 

Twilight People -–Rabbi Reuben Zellman
As the sun sinks and the colors of the day turn, we offer a blessing for the twilight,
for twilight is neither day nor night, but in-between.
We are all twilight people. We can never be fully labeled or defined.
We are many identities and loves, many genders and none.
We are in between roles, at the intersection of histories, or between place and place. We are
crisscrossed paths of memory and destination, streaks of light swirled together. We are neither day nor night. We are both, neither, and all.
May the sacred in-between of this evening suspend our certainties, soften our judgments, and widen our vision.
May this in-between light illuminate our way to the God who transcends all categories and
definitions. May the in-between people who have come to pray be lifted up into this twilight.
We cannot always define; we can always say a blessing. Blessed are You, God of all, who brings on the twilight. 

Before Mi Chamocha: 

Our people came out of Egypt a mixed multitude, the spray of dividing waters sparkling
diamonds all around them.
We stood together at Sinai, all of us—future, present, past—amid the rumble of thunder and the crack of bright lightning, to enter into covenant with the One who loves us, in whose shining image we are all created, over and over again.
We have wandered bleak landscapes, built flimsy tents of skins and then houses of stone. We have planted orchards and vineyards, seen two Temples rise and then go down in surging flames, forcing us into exile. We have loved and lost, grieved and danced, transgressed and celebrated. Hidden, suffered, thrived.
And we gather here this day, in the community of our people, a mixed multitude, and we sing out:
Hear O Israel, we stand together, all of us, descendants of the single first human created

on the sixth day, and of our myriad parents down through the generations, too numerous to
name. We stand together, link arms, and pray.
Blessed are You, God of the universe, who sanctifies us with the commandment to love
ourselves and one another—in all our varied ways—and blesses us with a diamond-bright  radiance that still ripples out from Your first spoken words of creation. 

Andrew Ramer 

Before Kaddish: 

Love Wins
 One day, the words ‘coming out’ will sound strange,
Oppression based on gender or orientation will be a memory,
History to honor and remember,
The pain of hiding, repressing, denying,
Honoring the triumphs of those who fought to be free,
Remembering the violence and vitriol that cost lives.
When love wins,
When love wins at long last, 

ואהבת לרעך כמוך, 

‘Love your neighbor as yourself’
Will be as natural as breathing. 

ואהבת לרעך כמוך! 

One day, love will win every heart,
Love will win every soul,
Fear will vanish like smoke,
And tenderness for all will fill our hearts. 

ואהבת לרעך כמוך! 

Love wins. In the end,
Love wins. Man for man,
Woman for woman,
Woman for man,
Man for women,
All genders,
All orientations,
All true expressions of heart. 

ואהבת לרעך כמוך! 

Let this come speedily,
In our day, A tribute to the many
And the diverse
Gifts from heaven.
A tribute to love deep and true,
Each of us for one another. 

ואהבת לרעך כמוך! 

© 2016 Alden Solovy