“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. 

(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.  

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! 

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. 

2. 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.” 

3. 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. 

4. 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. 

5. 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.  

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.  

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.  

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 

Earlier this week the world marked World Refugee Day. According to the World Refugee Day site, “World Refugee Day is an international day designated by the United Nations to honour refugees around the globe. It falls each year on June 20 and celebrates the strength and courage of people who have been forced to flee their home country to escape conflict or persecution. World Refugee Day is an occasion to build empathy and understanding for their plight and to recognize their resilience in rebuilding their lives.” The theme of this year’s day was Hope Away from Home. 

Over and over again in the Torah, 36 times according to the Talmud, we are told that we should honor the widow, the orphan and the sojourner, precisely because  were slaves in the land of Egypt and then we were refugees. Wanderers. Not just our ancestors. We ourselves. We know what it is to be mistreated, to be an outsider, a slave.  We were refugees. And throughout the ages, Jews have continued to be refugees. That is part of why HIAS, the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society exists, and supports World Refugee Day. Yes, I made my financial commitment to the work they are doing. And yes, that is part of why I chose to work for Refugee Immigration Ministry as one of my rabbinic internships. That is part of why I have a Cambodian nephew rescued from the Killing Fields.  That is part of why I have a brother-in-law who is an immigration attorney and a judge. And that is part of why I went to meeting last week for Elgin leaders and Centro de Informacion to talk about what we can do as a city to welcome new immigrants. CERL leaders and city officials have a commitment to doing precisely that. 

This week, the Israelites who are wandering in the desert, who we have listened to them kvetch and complain for weeks now, do something else in this week’s parsha. One of their leaders, Korach, questions Moses and Aaron’s authority and leadership. Now questioning by itself is not bad. My father’s definition of a Jew, as I often quote is someone who questions, thinks and argues.  

Korach, a cousin to Moses, Aaron, and Miriam and a fellow member of the tribe of Levi, and who holds a position of communal prominence, but he wants more. So he rallies thought leaders and political figures to his cause, claiming to be the people’s champion. “All in the community are holy, all of them, and the Lord is in their midst,” he declares. “Why then do you raise yourselves above the Lord’s congregation?” (Numbers 16:2-3) 

What is the problem with Korach’s question? It sounds like a good point. Everyone is holy. No one should be above the people, right? We are all created b’tzelem elohim, in the image of G-d. Acording to Rabbi Menachem Creditor, “In so doing, Korach’s assault on Moses and Aaron is really an assault on the foundations of the community, an attack on the nation he purports to defend. Beneath Korach’s lofty words lies a deep-seated desire for power. This unquenchable thirst represents a profound imbalance within him, as real satisfaction lies not in accumulating authority, but in finding purpose and meaning within oneself. Korach’s quest for power would never have led to fulfillment.” 

In contrast, we see an example of a leader who is humble. We are told about Moses that he was humble and as an expression of that humility, he falls on his face before G-d. Later, in Deuteronomy, we are told that there has never been a leader, a prophet that arose like Moses. We sing that line in Yigdal.  

What do we want in a leader? Moses is held out as an example of a good leader. Folliwing the example of G-d being merciful and compassionate, slow to anger, patient, forgiving and humble. Those seem like good attributes of a leader. Recently we had our own board induction of leaders. We called it an Induction into the CKI Leadership Hall of Fame. Some people tell me that they are not leaders. There is no one model for leadership, An old Girl Scout handbook, in taking about leadership outlined several styles. Some are Directors. Some are Delegators. Some are Coaches. Some are Supporters. Each has a unique role.  

The Talmud in Pirke Avot teaches that there are two types of arguments, those for the sake of heaven and those that are not. The example that Pirke Avot uses is the difference between Hillel and Shamai’s debates and the one of Korach. The old RSGB prayer book has a prayer for committee meetings that includes this very example. When we gather as a board or a committee we should argue for the sake of heaven, not because we want to grab more power. 

Shortly after Korach questions Moses’s authority, the earth seems to swallow up Korach and his band of 250 followers. “They went down alive to She’ol, with all that belonged to them. The earth closed over them and they vanished from the midst of the congregation” 

This seems like harsh punishment.  

Sermons are supposed to be timeless, not necessarily timely. This week, however, I feel the need to be timely, so please forgive me.  

This week we saw two examples of the sea swallowing up people. Sadly, they went down to the depths. The world seemed captivated by a mini-van sized submersible with five people on board. These were not refugees, rather they were privileged elite, who could afford just this kind of thrill ride. For their families and friends the outcome is a tragedy, and I am sure that they will be missed. Sudden deaths like this can be very difficult, because there was no time, no opportunity to fully say goodbye. Yes, the participants signed waivers, but I am not sure they could fully understand the risks.  Once I went white water rafting in New Hampshire. I too signed a waiver that included death as a possible outcome. It spooked me and still I went.  It was a thrilling 3 hours, and expensive on our budget, but not something I feel I need to repeat.  I may not be that much of a thrill seeker. 

Perhaps though what struck me as I sat from the safety of my living room, was the hubris of the CEO who felt that the satiety warnings didn’t apply somehow to him and his craft. He ignored those warnings and put people, himself included, at risk. That risk turned out to be fatal. This example is the opposite of Moses’s example. It is hubris. 

We mourn with the families, this loss of life. We applaud the international cooperation that the rescue mission, which became a search and recovery mission took. We have seen this kind of cooperation before. With the Thailand cave rescue and more recently with the Turkey and Syria earthquake. Israel, with their unique skills honed with years of responding to terrorist attacks often offers significant help. There is much that can be learned from this disaster. And it is a tragic disaster. 

Sadly, however, there was another example of people going down to the deep this week. A refugee boat with roughly 750 people on board capsized off the coast of Greece. Refugees, migrants seeking a better life in Europe sank in Greek waters. With hundreds still missing and dozens confirmed dead, Greek and European authorities are facing mounting criticism. 

The number of survivors is currently at 104 people. Many of them are Syrians, Pakistanis and Egyptians. Most of those who have been rescued were taken to a refugee camp on the mainland just outside of Athens, and if you do the math, that leaves hundreds of people still missing – up to 500, according to the U.N. 

500 people missing, not 5. Where are they? What could the leaders of European nations done differently? What kind of international cooperation could we have mustered in this case? Whaat are the failures of leadership here? According to some: 

“Well, we know that the boat capsized overnight local time on Wednesday last week. We also know the Greek Coast Guard was observing the vessel for several hours before it sank. And one question is why Greek authorities didn’t immediately intervene, given how unseaworthy and overcrowded this vessel was. According to international law experts, Greek authorities had an obligation to act even if people aboard rejected assistance, which Greek authorities claimed they did.”  https://www.npr.org/2023/06/22/1183842802/migrant-boat-disaster-has-greece-and-european-authorities-facing-criticism  

We mourn with these families too. But this may only be the tip of the iceberg. Pun intended!  

To be clear, refugee and asylum issues are not just a problem on our southern border. They are not just a problem in downtown Chicago where 10,000 new immigrants have arrived this year. Centro has served 6,000 clients this fiscal year alone. 

I don’t have the solutions to the global immigration crisis. To say that I do, would be hubris on my part. But I am willing to roll up my sleeves and work.  

We also know that the migrant and immigration problems throughout the world will only get worse as a reflection of climate change. According to the Council on Foreign Relations, “Climate migration occurs when people leave their homes due to extreme weather events, including floods, heat waves, droughts, and wildfires, as well as slower-moving climate challenges such as rising seas and intensifying water stress. This form of migration is increasing because the world has not been able to reduce greenhouse gas emissions and halt global average temperature rise, which leads to more climate disasters. Most climate migration is projected to occur within a country’s borders (internal), but cross-border migration will also rise. In some instances, extremes combined with other factors, such as natural subsidence and oil and gas activities, are displacing entire communities, forcing them to find refuge in different parts of their country or journey across borders. Some researchers project that drought-driven migration in particular could triple this century if international efforts fail to address the growing climate crisis. ) https://www.cfr.org/in-brief/climate-change-fueling-migration-do-climate-migrants-have-legal-protections#:~:text=Why%20is%20climate%20migration%20on%20the%20rise%3F&text=Climate%20migration%20occurs%20when%20people,seas%20and%20intensifying%20water%20stress.   

We look to our leaders to respond to these crises with compassion and humility, like Moses. No one, fleeing climate disasters or seeking asylum for other reasons, persecution, fear of violence, poverty, etc. should meet a fate like the refugees on that boat. As the Torah suggests, we need to protect the refugee, the sojourner, strangers, as we were once refugees too.  

We’re not done yet. The Israelites contribute to complain. The very next day the whole Israelite community railed against Moses and Aaron, saying, “You two have brought death upon the Lord’s people.” And a plague began. 14700 people were lost. Plus the 250 from Korah. That’s a lot of people. A lot more death. It almost feels like current events. 

Yet, after the plague, there is an almost magical scene. G-d told Moses to tell the Israelite people to take from them a staff, one from each new chieftain. 12 staffs in all. These staffs were placed In the Tent of Meeting and as G-d said, they would begin to sprout and produce blossoms. Which is exactly what happened. New, promising growth. A sign of hope.  

Once, we were in Rocky Mountain National Park after a forest fire. It was smoky still and the trees were all charred. It looked and smelled awful. But if you looked closely, the ground of the forest was that bright green, new growth like we have here in early spring. The forest floor has the ability to begin again.  We have the ability to begin again—even after tragedy and trauma. It takes work. A lot of work. But it is possible. With leadership and a lot of work.  Come work with me. Argue if you must–for the sake of heaven and for the people.

This is two part entry, That makes it a little long. But I think hopeful.

Part One:
Friday night we hosted, together with Hadassah, Shabbat on the Road. It is a program I’ve adopted from Rabbi Ed Friedman, now in Aurora, IL. Our version goes like this. Once a month in the summer, June, July, August, we are not in our building for Friday night. We are in someone’s home or in a park. There may be instrumental music or not. There could be some yummy food, some kind of dairy potluck or food that people bring just for themselves or their family. Or not. Sometimes at the last minute we have had to cancel because of weather. Usually, we get to enjoy davenning, praying outside the way the rabbis designed the service.  

This week we were scheduled to be a park in Elgin. In a picnic shelter that has electricity. Better for that instrumental music. Near real bathrooms and a playground. The weather was perfect. Cooler in the morning, so people kept reminding me to bundle up. But the sun had come out. It was about 72 degrees out. Not too cold. Not too hot. Just right.  

Earlier in the day, the verdict came out in the Tree of Life mass shooting. Guilty on all counts. This is a good thing. But is it a security risk for a Jewish congregation out on the road? Should we be visible? What if we are singing in Hebrew? Is it too late to get a detail? Can we afford it? Can we afford not to? 

I texted my contact at the police department who handles details. She had already seen the news and even though it was her day off, she arranged for a steady stream of police squad cars to drive by the park shelter. Every single officer waved. One came and sat with us for a while. I have never felt quite so protected. It was definitely a spiritual moment.  

Rebbe Nachman of Bratzlav who I quote often says that we need be outside alone and pour out of souls to G-d. That is definitely part of my reason for running and walking. There were two other intensely spiritual moments. At Lecha Dodi, it is traditional to rise, face the door, and greet the Shabbat bride and queen. If you are outdoors, in a picnic shelter in the round, where do you face? I watched people try to figure that out. I was reminded of the verse, “The earth is the Lord and the fullness thereof.” All the world is G-d’s home.  

As I was quietly doing my personal Amidah, the central standing set of prayers, I could hear the birds sing and the children at play. Perhaps because I am in the middle of wedding season, I was reminded of the last of the sheva brachot, the seven marriage blessings that praises G-d for joy (seven words for joy!), for loving couples and youth at play.  

It was a lovely, lovely evening that could only have been better with ice cream! 

Part Two:
The teaching of Rebbe Nachman of Bratlav: 

Kol ha’olam kulo, geher tzar me’od. All the world is a narrow bridge.
V’ha’ikar, lo lefachad klal.–The important thing is to not be afraid.  

Franklin D. Roosevelt is famous for saying, “The only thing we have to fear, is fear itself.” 

Fear can be an important emotion. The fight or flight response, necessary to keep us safe, is driven by fear. This portion has a lot to teach us about fear and hope.  

When Moses sent in scouts, one member of each tribe, to spy out the land and to give an assessment, they came back with a mostly positive report. The land is a good land, flowing with milk and honey, with abundant food, grapes and pomegranates and figs. But, 10 out of 12 of the scouts were afraid. They didn’t think they could overcome the people. Only Caleb dissented. The others thought that the people were like giants, nefalim, and they appeared as grasshoppers. Now it is true the meaning of nefalim is shrouded in mystery. Perhaps giants, perhaps fallen angels, perhaps the offspring of Seth. We really don’t know. But the affect is clear. 10 out of 12 scouts did not think they could overcome them or that the Israelites would be welcome. The whole people then questioned what they were doing there at all. Perhaps it would be better to go back to Egypt.  

I want you to think for a moment about when you have been afraid. When did you feel small? Maybe as small as a grasshopper.  

Recently I learned about a museum in New York. The Museum of Failure. In it are products that never succeeded in the market. One of them is Nww Coke. Then, as you may remember, Coca Cola went back to what it called Coke Classic. The museum spotlights 159 products. Once I went to a conference on Intellectual Property. Many universities actually have IP offices. I heard the director of the MIT office tell the workshop that they expect students and professors to fail. It is a necessary component to getting a new product from the R&D stage to being a successful product. But what if they had been afraid to try at all? No lightbulbs. No phones. (or cell phones!) No cars. No maple syrup. Who was the brave person who first tried that? Fear could have prevented many of our “advancements.” 

After a rather intense argument between Moses and G-d, Moses arguing on behalf of this stiffnecked, sttubborn, kvetching people and G-d forgives them. The people march on. That defense of the people and plea becomes the basis of much of our High Holy Day liturgy. Moses reminds G-d of G-’d essential nature—to be merciful, full of lovingkindnesss and truth,, slow to anger, and forgiving. G-d then tells Moses that G-d has forgiven them according to his word.  

But what was the sin?  What had the people done wrong? Why was G-d so angry? Perhaps it was the fear that would prevent the Israelites from moving forward. Perhaps it was not trusting G-d. Perhaps it was the kventching, the constant complaining that the Israelites seem to do. Perhaps it was all of it.  

We often joke about how the Israelite kvetch. How we kvetch. And we do. In our families. In our communities. Even right here at CKI. Maybe that kvetching comes out of fear.   

Imagine what our households would look like if we just stopped kvetching. Or our communities. This community. Maybe this shoukd be a kvetch free zone. There are plenty of memes that will tell you to stop complaining. Just google etsy or pinterest. But what is really going on? In order to stop complaining, it is helpful to understand the underlying causes. It maybe the fear.  

If we look at complaining as the misfired expression of a wish, there are three sources where it can come from: a desire for control, a need for validation or sympathy, a fear of managing a problem directly,  

What are the wishes we have? What are preventing them? 

It is our job then to motivate people. I found these suggestions helpful: 

“Ask the person what things would look like if the situation became better for them. Encourage them to describe their ideal outcome and think of three things they could do to make that happen—if they are willing, of course. Have them create an action plan and let you know how this plan works for them.” 

https://www.mindbodygreen.com/articles/what-it-means-when-someone-cant-stop-complaining  

There are a number of things that we all might be afraid of these days. Instead of kvetching, I try to do something about it, whatever it is. Rising anti-semitism. I show up, and try to be loud and proud. I know that is what Myrna did. After the Tree of Life massacre, she found CKI and has stayed. And we are grateful she has! I think of that today, since the verdict came out guilty on all counts yesterday. Increasing gun violence? Advocate for more mental health services and some kind of gun law reform. Trash around a neighborhood park? Pick it up. (And then wash your hands!) Climate issues and these increasingly violent storms? Learn what really causes climate change and what we can do about it. Healthcare issues? Keep advocating for healthcare for all.  

Does it work? Not always. Here’s my kvetch. Some of the issues I have worked on for decades seem to be worse or worsening.  

Chuck pointed out something during Torah study that I had missed. Probably because we read the triennial cycle. Later in the full portion we are instructed about tzitzit. We have short memories. We go back to kvetching quickly. So G-d gives us a tool. A memory device: 

“Speak to the Israelite people and instruct them to make for themselves fringes on the corners of their garments throughout the ages; let them attach a cord of blue to the fringe at each corner. That shall be your fringe; look at it and recall all the commandments of יהוה and observe them, so that you do not follow your heart and eyes in your lustful urge. Thus you shall be reminded to observe all My commandments and to be holy to your God. I יהוה am your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt to be your God: I, your God יהוה.” (Numbers 15:38-41) 

Why this thread? Why now in the storyline? It is to remind us of what Adonai did for us when we went forth from Egypt. Leading us out. Parting the sea. Giving us Torah. Giving us manna and water in the wilderness. So easily we forget. So easily we are afraid and then we kvetch. It would be better to go back to Egypt, right?  

There are two schemas that I know of for tying tzitzit. One is so that the knots equal 613, the number of commandments in Torah. The other so that the twists and turns equal the numerical value of Yod (10) Hay (5) Vuv (6) Hay (5). Either way, even today, when you look on the tzitzit, the original Jewish macrame, you remember G-d and the commandments. It is like tying a thread on your finger to remember to buy milk on your way home. 

One way to combat fear is with hope, Even if that hope is just a thin thread. 

A thread plays an important role in the haftarah as well. A crimson cord is used as a signal of safety. Rahab, the non-Israelite whore, is responsible for rescuing the Israelite spies, entering into an oath with them and tying that crimson cord on the window. She, as an ally, an unlikely one at that, gives me hope and lessens my fear. 

That string, tivkat choot, may have the same root as hope, I first learned of this connection from Wendy McFadden in my adult Hebrew class. She is the director of publications at the General Offices of the Church of the Brethren and a scholar in her own right. I always learn from her. This gives me hope too.  

Many of us are undergoing medical procedures. I have always liked the last verse of Adon Olam. It was Dan’s calming mechanism if he had to have an MRI. I have sung it at any number of patient bedsides and watched as blood pressures fell. Last night we sang the Craig Taubman version which was Dan’s favorite: 

B’yado afkid ruchi
B’eit ishan ve’a’i’rah

Ve’im ruchi geviati
Adonai li v’lo irah

Ve’im ruchi geviati
Adonai li v’lo irah

[Verse 2]
My soul I give to you
My spirit in your care

Draw me near
I shall not fear
Hold me in your hands 

Into Your hands I place my spirit. When I sleep and when I wake, I will have no fear. G-d with me and I will not fear.  

Rabbi Jennifer Singer taught this week: “As I remind myself, I am remembering to remind you too – to be brave in the face of the unknown, to be brave when fear holds you back, to be brave because you know that what is right must be spoken, must be supported. Be brave.” I’ll add. Remember, you are never alone. G-d neither slumbers nor sleeps. G-d walks with you. This gives me courage and reduces my fear.  

There is an old series of commercials for Motel Six that ends ”We’ll leave the lights on.” In truth, it would be fair to say that Motel Six is not my favorite hotel chain, but the commercials were charming and I always wanted to like them. There is something about light that is welcoming, warm and inviting.  

Today’s portion is called B’ha’alotecha. Which Eiz Chayim translates as “When you mount” but really is more like “When you raise up.” It is from the same root as aliyah, to go up. The same word we use for coming up to say the Torah blessings or going up to Jerusalem. When you move to Israel, you make aliyah. It is a spiritual raising up. 

There is something about light that is spiritually nourishing. When the Israelites were wandering in the desert, they had a pillar of smoke to lead them by day and a pilar of fire to lead them by night. Here we learn that somehow G-d is present when we leave the light on. And this light is supposed to be lit for all time. It is a Ner Tamid, an Eternal Light. What we learn from this portion is that while Aaron raised up the light, it is all of our responsibility to keep the light on.  

Recently someone noticed that our own Ner Tamid had gone out. Despite it being an LED bulb it had simply gone out. I am glad that he had noticed, and we quickly replaced it the next day. That “we” is really the royal we, I didn’t do it. I told Gene it was out and Gene did. It takes a village. Each of us, here at CKI has a job to do to keep the lights on.  

 This portion has a lot to say about leadership and community.  

 It seems so appropriate that we had our Board Induction last night.  

Rabbi Lord Sacks said of this portion: 

“There have been times when one passage in this week’s parsha was, for me, little less than lifesaving. No leadership position is easy. Leading Jews is harder still. And spiritual leadership can be hardest of them all. Leaders have a public face that is usually calm, upbeat, optimistic, and relaxed. But behind the façade we can all experience storms of emotion as we realise how deep are the divisions between people, how intractable are the problems we face, and how thin the ice on which we stand. Perhaps we all experience such moments at some point in our lives, when we know where we are and where we want to be, but simply cannot see a route from here to there. That is the prelude to despair.”  

Despair is all too common these days. There are any number of reasons people feel despair and hopelessness. As our elected officials all know, I argue for more funding for more mental health services in every encounter I have with them. Yet, there is still a stigma for seeking help for mental illness or for announcing you have one. It is part of why I proudly say that I have a therapist. I am hoping I am role modeling something for the rest of you. 

But mental health services alone are not enough. There is a spiritual malaise that is sometimes palpable. Throughout the centuries, Judaism has provided answers to this problem. 

Perhaps, like the prayer that we say at the beginning of the services which says that G-d is the Ultimate Healer, G-d is also the Ultimate Therapist. Perhaps that is why Rabbi Nachman suggests we should be outside every day and pour out our souls to G-d.  

Perhaps that is why it takes the whole community to light the lights and keep them going. Light dispels darkness. Dispels hopelessness. “Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.” – Desmond Tutu 

Perhaps, then it is our job as leaders of a spiritual community to provide a sense of hope and optimism.  

The message that this portion is giving us is profound. As Sacks says, “Judaism is not a recipe for blandness or bliss. It is not a guarantee that you will be spared heartache and pain. It is not what the Stoics sought, apatheia, a life undisturbed by passion. Nor is it a path to nirvana, stilling the fires of feeling by extinguishing the self. These things have a spiritual beauty of their own, and their counterparts can be found in the more mystical strands of Judaism. But they are not the world of the heroes and heroines of Tanach.” 

No, he is right. But like Kushner taught in his book, even with the title, is is what we do when bad things happen, because they will, not why do bad things happen. The challenge to a community, then is to help people cope with the tragedies and trauma.  

Sacks continues: “Why so? Because Judaism is a faith for those who seek to change the world. That is unusual in the history of faith. Most religions are about accepting the world the way it is. Judaism is a protest against the world that is in the name of the world that ought to be. To be a Jew is to seek to make a difference, to change lives for the better, to heal some of the scars of our fractured world. But people don’t like change. That’s why Moses, David, Elijah, and Jeremiah found life so hard. 

Sacks is correct again. People don’t like change. And yet we know that we are on the cusp of major changes to the Jewish community and community at large. This has been happening even before the pandemic but exacerbated by it. We don’t yet know what this change will ultimately look like. I think of the song we sing on Shabbat morning, “Or chadash…Cause a new light to illumine Zion.” What will that light look like? What will Judaism be for the next several generations? It is not that people don’t want to be engaged, involved, invested. But they want to do it differently. That’s why I gave all the board members a new book to read over the summer. Judaism Disrupted: A Spiritual Manifesto for the 21st Century. Maybe we will treat it like a “One Community, One Read” book and have everyone read it. Please do and give me, as your spiritual leader, your thoughts. What we build at CKI is for you! 

Sacks continues: “The Torah is giving us a remarkable account of the psychodynamics of emotional crisis. The first thing it is telling us is that it is important, in the midst of despair, not to be alone. God performs the role of comforter. It is He who lifts Moses from the pit of despair. He speaks directly to Moses’ concerns. He tells him he will not have to lead alone in the future. There will be others to help him. Then He tells him not to be anxious about the people’s complaint. They would soon have so much meat that it would make them ill, and they would not complain about the food again. 

The essential principle here is what the Sages meant when they said, “A prisoner cannot release himself from prison.” (Brachot 5b) It needs someone else to lift you from depression. That is why Judaism is so insistent on not leaving people alone at times of maximum vulnerability. Hence the principles of visiting the sick, comforting mourners, including the lonely (“the stranger, the orphan and the widow”) in festive celebrations, and offering hospitality – an act said to be “greater than receiving the Shechinah.” Precisely because depression isolates you from others, remaining alone intensifies the despair. What the seventy elders actually did to help Moses is unclear. But simply being there with him was part of the cure.” 

Our job is to accompany people in their darkest hours, whether that is acknowledging their physical limitations and health or their mental health. Sometimes it is hard to know just what to do. We know how to visit the sick, comfort mourners and join in festive celebrations. I am glad that the CKI Cares Team is revamping so that we can expand our connections because that is really what community is all about. 

Later in the parsha, after Aaron and Miriam challenge Moses’s leadership and after Miriam is struck with some kind of skin disease, Moses prays for his sister, “El na refana La. Please G-d heal her.” The research is clear. When people know that others are praying for them, they heal faster. They feel connected to a community, even if they are isolated. Miriam was outside the camp for seven days and then brought back inside the camp. That is a metaphor for community. Sometimes that integration is smooth and sometimes it is more difficult.  

It can be hard to be a leader. You may even think yourself as a failure. You join good company, as Moses thought he was a failure. But you don’t have to go it alone. The message of today’s portion is that we raise the lights together. As community.  

Sacks in another d’var Torah said, there are two ways to live in a world that is often dark and full of tears. We can curse the darkness or we can light a light and as the chasidim say, a little light drives out a lot of darkness.” 

Come light the lights with me. Raise those lights!