What if the phone rings and it is the Black Baptist pastor asking if the synagogue is safe? If we, the Jewish community is OK? What if the president of the synagogue helps the neighboring black church write a Homeland Security grant and both the church and the synagogue gets them? What if almost every conversation with anybody eventually turns to talk of anti-semitism? 

It is clear that anti-semitism and hate crimes are on the rise. Sadly, in some places tensions have risen between the black communities and the Jewish communities as well. How do you combat a casual comment that people, Jews in particular are picking on Kanye West? What do you do when some African Americans think that Ye was right? What is the big deal with Nick Fuertes and Ye having dinner with Trump? 

What if Elgin has a better way? 

Last night, my husband and I hosted a Chanukah party at our home for leaders in town. Jewish leaders, Black leaders, City leaders. An open house. We had clergy, lay leaders, police officers, elected officials. Mostly we stood around the dining room table, eating latkes with apple sauce or sour cream and mac and cheese. One person having latkes for the first time said, “Oh, so they are like hash browns with apple pie filling.” Right! 

The word Chanukah means dedication. This party was set up to make a visual statement that Elgin is “No place for hate.” We were rededicating ourselves to that vision. 

The conversations were important. Discussions of hunger and homelessness. A newer book, KosherSoul. The political landscape. Policing and racism and the work of the Taskforce on Policing that recently completed their work. The idea that we have deep connections and deep relationships already.  

Many of the people there have been working for years on policing and racism. Some of those conversations through the years have been hard. Some have been poignant. And some have been funny. One year we had a mac and cheese cook off. I lost. Wacky Mac, a prepackaged Kosher mac and cheese like Kraft, just doesn’t cut it. Reggie Kees won.  

Last night I was told to leave mac and cheese to the blacks. Really. One of our Jewish friends walked in and asked where I had found all these beautiful black people. The blacks were not offended, but I was. 

My friend, Tiffany, who is on the Gail Borden Public Library board, kept me relaxed and reminded me that it is all OK. She told me that African Americans are not so easily offended. We danced to “We are family.” I said I’ve never had sisters and always wanted them. She said, “Well, you’ve got them now.” She brought me two mugs that I love. One says Nosh. I had to teach her that word. She taught me years ago now the term boujee. (a hip-hop slang for something “luxurious in lifestyle yet humble in character,” 

 There was a long conversations about favorite rock albums. Lots of Led Zeplin and the Beetles. People who said they were leaving and then stayed and stayed and stayed. It was casual. It was magical. 

We lit the candles and took one, just one photo of the candles and the very diverse group gathered. I talked very briefly about King and Heschel misquoting them both I’m sure. Here are the real quotes. 

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.” Martin Luther King, jr. 

Heschel, who marched with King said that his feet were praying. Last night, we prayed with all our being, just by showing up, just by walking up those three stairs into a house that might be unfamiliar, eating maybe your first latke. 

“There always were 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 Chassidim say, a little light drives out much darkness. May we all help light up the world.”—Rabbi Jonathan Sacks z”l 

Then we took one group photo. One. Then more people came.  

Later in the evening, I had to tell the story about Susannah Heschel and the orange on the seder plate. Both versions. We talked about Richard Rohr’s Divine Dance and Toba Spitzer’s God is Here. People took turns spinning a dreidle, talking about miracles, working a puzzle. 

As it was reported to me, the mayor of New York at a recent summit about anti-semitism told the clergy gathered to invite other clergy out to dinner. Just groups of 10. To McDonalds, or a restaurant or to a home. Our invitations for this event had gone out prior to the mayor’s summit. We were on to something.  

I know that this is a very busy time of the year. I know that people made time to come last night. I am deeply touched.   

How to combat anti-semitism. Be visible. Loud and proud as the saying goes. Be authentic. Be open. Build lasting deep relationships. Friendships. Share food. Break bread. Maybe we need to rewrite the golden rule: Show up for others as you would have them show up for you! Love your neighbor as yourself. Period.  

Here is what I know. Some day there could be an anti-semetic event in Elgin. There could be a hate crime. It is sadly the world we are living in. There is no doubt that there would be an immediate, serious appropriate response.  

Last night was “just a Chanukah party” and so much more. Maybe, just maybe, because of parties like last night, our corner of the world is just a little safer.  No big statements decrying racism or anti-semitism. Just good food, good conversation and deep, deep appreciation for one another. And lots of hugs. Happy Chanukah. Merry Christmas. Merry Everything.

Thank you, Elgin.  

After Torah Study this week where we looked at Chapter 37 of the Book of Genesis, I watched the news. Chapter 37 starts with Jacob vayeshev, he sat down, he dwelled, he settled. After all that he had been through—tricking his brother out of his birthright, running away from home, finding Rachel at the well, working for seven years for Rachel, being tricked himself and working another seven years, he is finally his own man. Four wives, twelve children, and a large flock, he headed home. He settled down. Perhaps he retired.  

And he loved Jospeh, his favored son. And he gives him a gift, a katonet pasim, as our translation calls it, an ornamented tunic. The meaning of the Hebrew is uncertain and earlier this year I got a phone call from a Lutheran pastor who is helping the director of an upcoming production of Joseph and His Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. Could it be that the translation is long in the sleaves or just long coat. After some study of classic texts we concluded it could be, but that it is ambiguous, so we are back to meaning of Hebrew uncertain.  

In any case, this was a special gift. And it enraged the brothers. They were jealous. And Joseph’s dreams didn’t help any. They wanted to kill their brother. Only Reuven objects to the plan and convince them to throw him into a pit. After he is sold into some form of slavery, the brothers take that coat, smear it with blood and convince Jacob that his beloved son is dead. Jacob goes into deep mourning. This is a horrible story on so many levels. The text demands of us, we have to do better.  

Back to the news. There was a very sad story on Thursday night. Earlier in the week two brothers were murdered in their own alley right behind their house. Their mother had told them not to go out. They went any way. The lead story on NBC Chicago Thursday night was that it was a crime of jealousy. Apparently, whoever killed these two young men wanted the coat that one of them was wearing. They stole the coat and left the brothers to die. This is a horrible story on so many levels. We have to do better.  

This week we marked the sad anniversary of the massacre at Sandy Hook in Newtown, CT. Now Newtown is about half way between Boston and New York and it was common for me to stop there on my way home from rabbinical school. My college roommate lives there. We would often enjoy a sushi meal together with her young son before I would journey on to Boston. That son was a kindergartner when Sandy Hook happened. He was in a different building, but my college roommate went through the predictable panic until she could hold her son. I was newly in Elgin. We kept our phone line open all afternoon as the horror became clearer. It was the first night of Chanukah. I had taught the kids in Torah School, the Debbie Friedman song, Not by might, based on the haftarah for Shabbat Chanukah. We made a video, sent it to my roommate and she shared it with her friends and other moms. 

Since Sandy Hook, there continues to be too much gun violence. This year according to Forbes citing Gun Violence Archive there have been 611 mass shooting through Nov.25, 2022. This statistic does not include the two brothers in their alley killed over a coat. But it does include stories that continue to be in the headlines. Uvalde. Highland Park Fourth of July Parade. This, too, is a horrible story. We have to do better.  

Perhaps you will not agree with me, but when I called our state representative’s office about two other issues, the IL Safety and Security Grant, a funding bill she helped write and her recording of her talk on stumbling stones in Munich, we would up talking about gun violence. She is one of the co-sponsors of a bill to ban assault rifles in Illinois. If that bill passes, and I pray that it does, it will not end all gun violence. If it is in your nature, I urge you to check out organizations like the Sandy Hook Promise, Moms Demand Action, Everytown and Brady United. None of them are partisan. If you are so willing, I urge you to reach out to your elected officials, of whichever party and make your views known. We have to do better. Jealousy over a coat—Joseph’s or a teenager in Illinois in 2022 is not a reason to resort to violence. Period.  

In the words of the Chanuakh haftarah, which always being me hope: 

Not by might and not by power
But by spirit alone
Shall we all live in peace. 

May we rededicate ourselves to this vision. 

Cain and Abel  

Isaac and Ishmael 

Jacob and Esau and later still 

Joseph and his brothers 

Throughout the book of Genesis we have pairs of siblings that fall out of favor with each other. Sibling rivalry is a real thing. We are told in today’s story that Jacob and Esau reconciled—but then they went their own ways.  

What does it mean to reconcile? Jacob sent Esau gifts ahead of his arrival. Our Torah Study group talked about whether they were gifts to propriate himself as our translation said or to appease Esau or perhaps they were bribes. Last night we talked a little about gits and particularly at this gift giving season, even in the Jewish community, that is an important conversation. How we give gifts and why is important. (See below) 

This week I had the opportunity to go to someone’s house for coffee and an important conversation about hunger and homelessness in the City of Elgin and long term strategic planning hopefully leading to systemic change. Halfway out the door I texted her and said I could stop and pick up something at Arabica. She had already picked up some baked goods at Herb’s so I did not. But I could hear my mother saying never go empty handed. How many of you were taught that, never go empty handed. When I was In Guatemala as an AJWS fellow I learned something new to me about gift giving. It can change the balance of power, and not necessarily in a good way. We were asked not to bring gifts to the agencies we were visiting. Why? Because then they might feel a need to reciprocate, and they may not be in a financial position to do so, or they may feel embarrassed—or it would come out of the monies that AJWS had granted them thus defeating the purpose of the grant. I thought about that, and our parsha as I headed over to Joann’s for a lovely morning of coffee, donuts, planning and conversation. 

Gifts can be used to show off—look how great, wealthy, successful I am. Or they can be used as a symbol of love—we will see that in tomorrow’s wedding in an exchange of rings, a token, a symbol of Zack and Lila’s love for one another, or they can be used as one member of our Torah study group said as a bribe. If you accept this gift, then you won’t be mad at me anymore, you won’t want to kill me, you won’t…. 

This week the School of the Art Institute of Chicago took back a gift that they had given to Kanye West. His honorary doctorate from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago has been rescinded, and the school’s president condemned the artist’s recent antisemitic and racist statements. Honorary degrees are a gift, they are something that don’t have to happen and are used to recognize a significant body of work.  

‘“Ye’s actions do not align with SAIC’s mission and values, and we’ve rescinded his honorary degree,” President Elissa Tenny said in a statement to BuzzFeed News on Thursday. Tenny described the recent comments from the rapper, who recently changed his name to Ye, as “anti-Black, antisemitic, racist, and dangerous, particularly those directed at Black and Jewish communities.”’ 

This is not the first time this kind of thing has happened. I remember the long discussion at the Jewish Theological Seminary about its library when it was named for Ivan Boesky who was convicted of insider trading and junk bonds. Ultimately in 1987, after Ivan Boesky was convicted JTS took his name off of the library he had built for them. 

Sometimes I am asked an age-old question. Is it good for the Jews or bad for the Jews? One example was with Weinstein who was back in the news this week. While the trial is still going on I will comment only this way. It appears that Weinstein is bad for women, bad for humanity and therefore bad for the Jews.  

I wrestled with what to talk about this morning. Later in this portion but not in the section we just read we have the rape of Dinah. As a community that just hosted Anita Diamant whose best seller, The Red Tent deals with this brief story, I thought maybe we should look at Dinah. Having a background in rape and domestic violence counseling and a book on that topic, you might have thought that I might have talked about Dinah this morning. I will commend to you Rabbi Paul Kipnes about Jacob’s silence at Dinah’s rape and Joseph’s encounters with Potiphar’s wife. https://reformjudaism.org/learning/torah-study/torah-commentary/jacob-awakens-sexual-assaults-suffered-his-children?fbclid=IwAR35LYkvqNLax2Xy3BEmvpPbRTDVOlYc7F_nYyC10CbtmqGkhjThBbn1XrM   

Ultimately this morning, I want to talk about reconciliation. There are several people in this congregation who have struggled with children who are estranged or who have rough relationships with parents, siblings, friends. People who have wanted to reconcile but may not even know what caused the split.  

We talk about this often, especially before Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. We are told that for sins against G-d Yom Kippur atones but for sins against our fellow, we must make peace with them first. This is the basis of teshuvah, return, repentance.  

Jacob is returning. Physically, at least, to Canaan. Mentally, spiritual, he is afraid. He works to protect his family and he is alone, where he wrestles with a man? An angel? Himself? G-d? His name is changed from Jacob, the heel to Yisrael, Israel, One who wrestles with G-d. And he limps away to his encounter with Esau. Yet I am not sure he really reconciles with Esau. He doesn’t seem to follow the steps of teshuvah of repentance that Maimonides outlines centuries later.  

1. Regret. As Rabbi Paul Kipnes points out. “No wrongdoing can be transformed until we first recognize the error of our ways.” This is a highly personal, private step. We must feel remorse for what we have done. Does Jacob regret stealing the birthright? There is no evidence of that in the text.  

1. Renounce. Admit you made a mistake. Acknowledge to yourself that your actions were wrong. Don’t make up excuses or rationalizations. Promise you are not going to do this again.  

1. Confess: Say you are sorry out loud to someone else. Say it directly to the victim. The act of saying it out loud makes it more concrete. Judaism teaches that repentance and reconciliation only happens with the person directly affected. The book The Sunflower by Simon Wiesenthal addresses this question directly about an SS guard who wants Simon to grant forgiveness to him on his death bed after horrendous crimes against a Jewish community. Simon really wrestles with whether he can do that since the victims are dead. Read the book. 

1. Reconcile: Rabbi Paul Kipnes explains: “These first three steps address the sinner’s needs. Step four, reconcile, focuses on the one wronged. However commendable regret or confession may be, these alone do not heal someone who has been hurt or deceived. If teshuva is to be more than a simple way for the sinner to feel good again – if it is to become a tool for repairing souls, both the sinner’s and the victim’s – then it must transcend the realm of the emotion and conversation, and enter the tangible world of action. To reconcile with the person wronged begins with sincere apology. It continues with a long term investment of our time and energy, as long as necessary, until the sinner and the person wronged are able to work through this problem. We may need to spend significant time talking. We may need to give the other person time alone and space. Be patient. You see, we quickly hurt others but it takes time to heal.” 

1. Make amends: Part of teshuva is making amends. This may be accomplished with tzedakah, with volunteering, with monetary recompense. It may mean providing for counseling or therapy for the victim. As Paul Kipnes adds, “While a donation of money cannot buy forgiveness, it can help others who were similarly hurt if the tzedakah is given to appropriate organizations.” The question then becomes what were the gifts that Jacob gave to Esau. A way to affect reconciliation? A bribe? An attempt to buy forgiveness? Did he skip right to this step? 

1. Resolve: This is the step that for some is hardest. If confronted with the same situation, we resolve to not do it again.  

If you want to read Rabbi Kipnes’s full understanding of the Maimonides, it is here: https://www.paulkipnes.com/6-steps-of-teshuvah/ 

Jacob doesn’t seem to do each of these steps. He doesn’t seem to regret stealing the birthright or renounce his actions. How might this whole thing change if he had given back the birthright or split it with Esau in some sort of meaningful way? He didn’t apology or confess his actions. He didn’t make amends and he didn’t promise to never do it again. Similarly, Esau didn’t acknowledge his threat that he was going to kill Jacob, or promise to never do it again. Instead, after all of Jacob’s gifts raising the question of whether you can really buy reconciliation—that’s not in Maimonides’ steps by the way, and after a kiss that Rashi said was insincere, the brothers agree to just go their separate ways.  

What then do we do? We work these steps carefully. Step by step by step. And we realize that sometimes they still may not work. The person needs to feel safe and safety is hard to guarantee. Sometimes the person we are trying to reconcile with may be so wounded that they are not interested. Sometimes the person we are trying to reconcile with may have deeply seated underlying mental health issues. Sometimes, like Jacob and Esau, it may make more sense to just agree to go our separate ways.  

Kabbalat Shabbat: 

This is a gift. A small token of friendship. A Chanukah tzotchke. Purchased at Target by my phlebotomist. Not because she had to. Not out of some sense of obligation. Because she saw it and wanted to do something nice.  

There has been a lot written about anti-semitism these days. It is clear that hate crimes are on the rise, sadly. Charlie Neuman sent a video this week from Beit Tefilah that echoes what many of us learned. Based on last week’s Torah portion and the seeming almost reconciliation of Jacob and Esau, the rabbi was taught that they all hate us. All the non-Jews. He was taught in his very Jewish neighborhood to cross the street instead of walking by the one church in the neighborhood. Many of us were taught similar things. He says it is not true. They don’t all hate us and that is important to remember. That we need to bless the non-Jews that do like us. He based it on the text that we are all created b’tzelm elohim, in the image of G-d. I would echo his sentiments and add to them. We are taught to love our neighbors as ourselves, which he says applies to loving our Jewish neighbors. The text is not clear. Rayecha can be translated as neighbor, fellow or kin. But later on we are also told we should love the stranger in our gates. So really it is still all about unconditional love of our fellow, Jew or not.  

https://bethtfiloh.myschoolapp.com/app/detail/video/11515102  

Recently there was a meme that many of my colleagues posted that said, “If you are wondering what to get me for Hanukkah, I’m really into, unequivocal condemnations of anti-semitism.” That would be lovely—and just such an article appeared as an op-ed from a Catholic priest in the Daily Herald. https://www.dailyherald.com/discuss/20221207/a-christian-call-to-stand-up-against-growing-antisemitism?cid=search  And earlier today, Judi Tepe had a  lovely response printed.  https://www.dailyherald.com/discuss/20221212/letter-expressions-of-support-are-appreciated 

It’s a start. But also a start—the Interfaith Thanksgiving Service. The deep connections and relationships we have built over time with our neighboring religious leaders. The phone calls I have received asking what they can do to help, and this little gift. Antisemitism will not go away overnight. It takes us being vigilant. It takes us being visible. It takes us demonstrating loving our neighbors. Over and over again. It takes us standing up for the vulnerable, Jewish or not. And it takes just being a friend. 

After Jacob’s dream, he opened up his eyes and proclaimed, “Surely Adonai is present in this place, and I did not know it!” (Gen 28:16) 

Wow! G-d is in this place! This very place. Try it. Wow! It is an awesome moment.  

How do we see G-d’s presence? We talked a little bit about this last week when we talked about searching for G-d, l’dorosh et Adonai, to seek out, to look for G-d. 

The TaNaCh itself gives us some clues. In this case, Jacob is alone, in the wilderness. He opened up his eyes and he saw. Moses had a similar experience, also in the wilderness, also alone: 

“A messenger of Adonai appeared to him in a blazing fire out of a bush. He gazed, and there was a bush all aflame, yet the bush was not consumed. Moses said, ‘I must turn aside to look at this marvelous sight; why doesn’t the bush burn up?’ When Adonai  saw that he had turned aside to look, God called to him out of the bush: ‘Moses! Moses!’ He answered, ‘Here I am.’” Like Jacob, Moses knew he was standing on holy ground. He took off his shoes.  

There is another example with Moses. Moses is really angry after he found his people dancing around the Golden Calf. He smashed the luach, the tablet containing the 10 Commandments. G-d demanded he go back up the mountain and get another set. Moses didn’t want to go. He demanded to know who would go with him. He demanded to see G-d. G-d promised that G-d G-d’s self would go, would give Moses rest, hide Moses in the cleft, the cranny, the crevice of the rock and that G-d’s presence would go before him. Yet cautioned that one cannot see G-d and live so it would just be G-d’s backside, whatever that means since we believe that G-d does not have a body. 

These encounters are not just with the big characters in the Bible. Hagar, the other as her name means. Hagar, Sarah’s slave girl, Abraham’s concubine. Hagar at the well. She had an encounter with an angel, a messenger, and she is the first person, male or female to name G-d. And she called Adonai, “You Are El-roi,” The Hebrew on that is uncertain but apparently it means something like, G-d of Seeing because G-d had seen her and she felt seen.   

Hagar again had another experience in the wilderness. This time she is not entirely alone. She has Ishmael, her son, with her. They have run out of food and water. She cries out, “Don’t let me look on while the lad dies,” (Notice in the text she doesn’t pray per se, that’s a whole d’var Torah for another time!) G-d opened her eyes and she saw the well.  

One learning from these texts is that we need to be open to the possibility. We need to slow down and look. The song from Simon and Garfunkel goes through my head, “Slow down, you move to fast, you got to make the morning last.”  

If we don’t slow down, we can miss the miracles. If we don’t open our eyes, we don’t see the evidence of G-d. 

This is the season of miracles. We know the story of Chanukah. We know those miracles.  

Our tradition gives thanks for miracles, and this seems appropriate in this first weekend after American Thanksgiving. The tradition in our siddur, prayerbook of Modim Anachnu Lach begins. “We praise you.” But perhaps this is a better translation since we know that they first word means thanks: 

“We give thanks to You that you are the Lord our God, and God of our ancestors forever and ever, Rock of our lives and Shield of our salvation from generation to generation. 

We give thanks to you and recount your praises, for our lives that are entrusted in your hand, and for our souls that are in your safekeeping, and for your miracles that are with us every day, and for your wonders and good deeds that are with us at all times: evening, morning, and midday. 

Good One, your mercies never fail us, Compassionate One, your loving kindness never ceases.” 

The emphasis is mine. Thankful for miracles that are with us every day, morning, noon and night. That could be a sunrise, a sunset, the birth of a child, recovering from illness, having a job and a roof over our heads. The miracles never cease.  

This prayer gets an added paragraph for Chanukah. “We thank you for the miraculous deliverance, for the heroism, and for the trimphs of our ancestors from ancient days until our time.” It really starts, “Al hanisim, on the miracles.” And then continues with the story of Chanukah. There is a parallel paragraph for Purim, which is interesting because if you remember the story of the Book of Esther, G-d never appears in the Book of Esther, but if we open our eyes, we can see the evidence. 

Every day miracles, ones that we can see, every day if we open our eyes, and pause long enough to see. 

Sometimes, however, we miss the miracles. In the Talmud there is a story about crossing the Sea of Reeds. Perhaps it is best retold in Rabbi Larry Kusher’s book, The Book of Miracles. In this story, Shimon and Reuven walking through the mucky Sea of Reeds after it has parted. But all they see is the mud and how dirty their sandals were getting. They missed the miracle. Contrast that if you will, with the story of the lowly bondswoman, a maid servent. She saw the miracle of the parting of the sea. She saw G-d. While the prophet Ezeiel only saw visions of the Divine. (Mechilta)  

Look around you. Here right now and as we continue to celebrate Shabbat and into the week. Find those moments of holiness. Open up your eyes.  

Cantor Jeff Klepper wrote and recorded a song years ago that a congregation I worke in used before the Sh’ma, the proclamation of our faith, that G-d is One: 

“Open up our eyes.
Teach us how to live.
Fill our hearts with joy and all the love You have to give.
Gather us in peace as you lead us to Your name.
And we will know that you are One.
We will know that you are One.” 

Open Up Our Eyes 

Open up our eyes. Teach us how to live.
Open up my eyes. Teach me how to live.  

And then we will see that G-d is Here. Wow!

“L’derosh et Adonai, To seek out G-d. To inquire of G-d.“ 

What does this mean and how do we do it. How do we seek G-d? What questions do we ask? 

Maybe what we are asking is, “What is our purpose here on earth, and what brings us meaning?” 

Our member Peretz, of blessed memory used to say that our entire purpose in life is to fulfill the last line of Psalm 30 which we read every week: “O LORD my God, I will praise You forever.” There are other parts of that Psalm that I mind especially meaningful, ““What is to be gained from my death, from my descent into the Pit? Can the dust praise You? Can it declare Your faithfulness?” I see this as one way to find meaning in life, we are challenged to speak up, to speak out and to praise G-d, continually. 

So therefore, prayer and praise is one way to seek G-d. Jewish prayer is divided into three main categories Petition, those prayers of request, but not on Shabbat, Praise. And thanksgiving.  

Prayer builds the relationship between God and human beings. It forms a connection. 

When people pray, they spend time with God. To pray is to serve God with all of your heart, soul with all your might, with all your being, your everything. It is the embodiment of the V’ahavta. It is part of how we show our love for G-d and how we draw close to G-d. …to l 

Jews, like other people of faith, pray for many different reasons in many different ways.  

• They pray so that their hearts can reach out to God 
• They pray to express and exercise their beliefs 
• They pray to share in the life of a worshipping community 
• They pray to obey God’s commandments 

Some say that prayer is speaking to G-d, while Torah is G-d speaking to us. Last night we looked at 2 methods of Torah study, that can be summarized with acronym PARDES, from which paradise comes in English. Torah Study is akin to being in the orchard, in the Garden of Eden, in paradise. The pey, the p sound is the simple, basic, plain meaning of the text.. Resh is the remez, the hint of what might be going on by looking at metaphor. The dalet, the derash, same root as l’derosh and midrash, is the text that emerges, the dialogue that answers the questions, and the samach, the sod, the hidden, mystical meaning of the text.  

But PARDES comes with a warning, Four rabbis went into the garden, but only Rabbi Akiva entered in peace and left in peace. This teaches us that before we dabble in searching for G-d we need to be grounded. Historically that meant male, 40 and married. Nowadays that is less true. 

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel took this searching for meaning and connection with G-d on with his book Quest for G-d. “Our goal should be to live life in radical amazement. ….get up in the morning and look at the world in a way that takes nothing for granted. Everything is phenomenal; everything is incredible; never treat life casually. To be spiritual is to be amazed.”
 

oThe rabbis of the Talmud understood this at some deep level. The first prayer of three, after the Barchu and surrounding the Sh’ma, is always a prayer about the wonder of creation. That sense of awe that we experience seeing a sunrise or a sunset, a mountain top, the stars, that awe feeling is part of how we l’derosh l’adonai, we seek out G-d. So, one way to find G-d is to be out in nature, and just say, Wow! Part of my own spirituality is my running and walking. Some just walk. Weight watchers has even developed an Awe Walk. It is a walk with intention. We might say kavanah. Some people walk a labyrinth. I find it always fascinating what emerges when I do. If you are looking for labyrinths in our area there is one at St. Joe’s, St. Alexius, Bethany Lutheran in Batavia and the Unitarian Church way out Highland Ave. I am fond of the one at the Botanic Garden at the University of Michigan and had a very powerful experience there this Labor Day Weekend.  

Sometimes it is hard to distinguish G-d’s voice from all the noise that is out there. We need to quiet all those other voices—in our heads and around us. Some call that mindfulness. In order to hear G-d’s voice, some meditate. The Institute for Jewish Spirituality has many webinars and seminars to teach us how to mediate. Rabbi Josh Feigelson is their executive director and has much to teach all of us. Their vision and their mission according to their website is:

“Vision: The Institute for Jewish Spirituality envisions a world in which spiritual practice is a vital part of Jewish life, leading to compassion, justice, and peace.

Mission: The Institute for Jewish Spirituality’s mission is to develop and teach Jewish spiritual practices so that individuals and communities may experience greater awareness, purpose, and interconnection.” https://www.jewishspirituality.org/

That interconnection is part of what I think we are searching for in a Jewish community and as we l’derosh et Adonai, seek out G-d.

We have different images of G-d’s voice. In Psalm 29 it is the booming, powerful voice of G-d that shatters cedars but also gives us peace and strength. Yet Elijah heard the still small voice of G-d.

Ultimately, the hearing of G-d’s voice, should propel us to be our best selves. That vision of our better self is often helped by working on what is called Mussar. This is the study of 13 character traits that bring us closer to the Divine. They mirror the 13 Attributes of the Divine. One way to draw closer to G-d is to be like G-d, a form of imitatio deo. The Mussar Institute (https://mussarinstitute.org/ ) offers rotating, ongoing classes to help us with this kind of character development.

The 13 traits are:
Patience: סבלנות – Savlanut 

Gratitude: הכרת הטוב – Hakarat Ha’Tov 

Compassion: רחמים – Rachamim 

Order: סדר – Seder 

Equinimity: מנוחת הנפש – Menuchat Ha’Nefesh 

Honor: כבוד– Kovod 

Simplicity: הסתפקות – Histapkut 

Enthusiasm: זריזות – Zerizut 

Silence: שתיקה – Sh’tikah 

Generosity: נדיבות – Nedivut 

Truth:  אמת – Emet 

Moderation: שביל הזהב – Shevil Ha’zahov 

Loving Kindness: חסד – Chesed 

Responsibility:  אחריות – Achrayut 

Trust: בטחון – Bitchon 

Faith: אמונה – Emunah 

Awe: יראה  Yirah – *No English translation is accurate. A close association is fear/awe. A term that my husband and I debate routinely, for decades. Do we revere G-d or do we fear G-d. Our rabbi argues back, almost settling the debate, it can be both. 

There is a debate in historical Judaism about whether Torah study or mitzvot are spiritually superior. In the New Testament this gets couched as faith versus works. The commandments get divided into ethical ones, between people and ritual between people and G-d. Study was one way to draw close to G-d, to seek out G-d to l’derosh et Adonai. But it became the preview of scholars leaving many out. With the rise of Hasidic thought, the Baal Shem Tov gave more weight to prayer and sincere (that with kavanah) to the common people. The Baal Shem Tov said “G-d desires the heart.” And stories of children repeating the alef bet or playing a flute as a form of prayer that are dearer to G-d abound. 

Our join then is to draw close to G-d is to be like G-d. Perhaps one of my favorite readings in our liturgy tells us that as G-d clothed the naked, Adam and Eve, we should clothe the naked. As G-d visited the sick, Abraham, afte4r the circumcision, we should visit the sick, as G-d fed tne hungry, mana in the wilderness, we should feed the hungry and as G-d buried the dead, Moses, we should bury the dead. 

When we take on these actions, we draw closer to G-d. For me, that is what gives meaning and purpose to life.  

Happy Thanksgiving, 

Today I did an important, but small thing. I took brand new hats and gloves to Elgin Community College to distribute to our newest immigrants. These are people who arrived on these shores seeking a better life. The event was sponsored by Elgin’s Centro de Informcion, one of the premier organizations that works with the Latino community in Elgin. On very short notice, they were able to line up many of the agencies in Elgin that help new neighbors. The Visting Nurse Association was there. So was the Community Crisis Center, Administer Justice, Gail Borden Public Library, Greater Family Heath, a literacy group, and so many more. (I was trying to be really quick since I am not fully better so I am not providing a full list). And an entire ball room with clothing, including the hats and gloves. 

The message was clear. In Elgin we welcome immigrants. It seemed like a perfect event the day before Thanksgiving. 

This past Sunday, Congregation Kneseth Israel hosted the Coalition of Elgin Religious Leaders;’ Annual Interfaith Thanksgiving Service. The theme this year was “Thankful for the Journey.” Elgin is a community of immigrants. Yes, there are some Native Americans here, and we stand on indigenous land, but most of the early settlers were from someplace else.  

My own history includes immigrants from Germany, Ireland, and Austria-Hungary and maybe Russia. (It depends on where you draw the borders in any given year). German Jews set up settlement houses much like Jane Addams did to help Jews from Eastern Europe assimilate, to become “real Americans” whatever that means. It didn’t always go smoothly. Immigration reform goes back to 1924 when quotas were first imposed by the Johnson-Reed Act, on different immigrant groups. These quotas were still in place throughout World War II, and sadly many more Jews went to their deaths because of them. The most egregious was the turning back of the SS. Saint Louis. (although I learned only last week that some people did survive the SS Saint Louis.) 

There were other organizations too, HIAS, the Hebrew Immigrant Aide Society has long helped refugees. Some of my own members have been helped by them. Some of my family members have worked for them. I have worked for Refugee Immigration Ministry with asylum seekers as one of my rabbinic interns. Motivating us, haunting us, is the memory that our borders were closed during the Holocaust. 

I don’t have the answers to the current immigration situation. I do know that in Judaism we are taught to take care of the widow, the orphan the stranger, (the resident alien, the newcomer, the neighbor, the fellow traveller, no word quite captures ger v’toshav) the most vulnerable among us. 36 times we are told to do this in the Bible. More than welcome, we are told to love the stranger. That’s what I saw happening this morning. 

One of my favorite books of all time is Molly’s Pilgrim. Molly, a Russian Jewish immigrant is trying to find her way in her new American school system. She is teased, bullied really, because of her accented English and her Russian styled clothes. The teacher wants each student to make a doll out of a clothespin. Molly is assigned a Pilgrim girl. Molly’s mother doesn’t understand why this is homework but agrees to make the doll. Molly brings the doll to school. More teasing…Molly’s mother made a beautiful doll, looking just like her. Not a pilgrim, right? But no, the teacher explained that a Pilgrim is someone who comes to this country looking for religious freedom, just like the original Puritans, Pilgrims, just like Molly’s mother. There is no more important book to read, reread and love this Thanksgiving season. Thankful for Barbara Cohen’s timeless message. 

Thankful to spend time welcoming immigrants, our newcomers and now our neighbors, this morning in Elgin. Where else would I have been on this, the day before Thanksgiving. 

Rabbi Ben Bag Bag said “Turn it and turn it again, everything is in it”. Today I knew I wanted to address a hard topic–rising anti-semitism—but wasn’t sure how to apply it to the portion.  

Like much of Genesis, this portion Is jam packed. Called Hayyei Sarah, the Life of Sarah, it begins with the death of Sarah. Abraham arrives from Beer Sheva to bury his wife. How she wound up in Kiriyat Araba, now Hebron, is an open question and the subject of much midrash. This portion contains perhaps the original Hollywood script. Once Eliezar finds a possible wife for Isaac, they return to Abraham’s camp on camels. Rebecca looks up. She sees Isaac. She falls off her camel…Isaac looks up…it is love at first sight. Go read it.  

But before that Abraham goes to Kiryat Arba to mourn his wife, to eulogize her and to bury her. Those steps have become the halacha, the Jewish law on how we mourn. Traditionally, we bury our dead. In land that we own. 

This dialogue could be seen as a blueprint for interfaith relations. Abraham is a ger v’toshvah, a resident alien, a stranger in their midst and he reminds them of his status. Abraham asks nicely to purchase a place for a grave. The head of the Hittites first says that they will give him the land. Abraham insists on buying the land. The Hittites agree to a price and the rest is history. If you listen carefully, seven times the text uses the root “sh’ma” to listen. This dialogue has a lot to say about active listening, a skill necessary in interfaith relations. 

What does it mean when people own something as opposed to be given something. There is pride of ownership. There is less to contest. It is mine. When I traveled to Guatemala with American Jewish World Service we were told not to bring gifts for our hosts. It shifts the balance of power and it could make our hosts feel obligated to reciprocate, even if they were not in a financial position to do so.  

AJ Liebling said, “Freedom of the press is guaranteed only to those who own one.” That by itself is interesting. I learned the quote as the “power of the press,” not “freedom of the press.” And when I have used the quote people complained that AJ Liebling was a known anti-semite. I can’t say whether he was or he wasn’t based on my limited research to prepare for this morning. People often ask me the same thing about Walt Disney. I can’t say one way of the other about him although it seems clear he hung out with some anti-semetic types. These kinds of charges are not new. 

Meanwhile, others in the Jewish community have used this text of Abraham buying the cave to explain or maybe to justify why modern day Israel needs to include Hebron, currently part of the West Bank and fought over consistently. Abraham bought that burial cave. So “we” own it in perpetuity. Right?  

Others counter with Abraham was a rich man. Four hundred shekels was a lot of money. Is this the beginning of that trope? Is that why people don’t like “the Jews.”? Are we proud of Abraham because he could buy the cave or did he just throw his money around? 

Language is important. Just think about the difference between explain or justify in my previous paragraph.  

Encounters with people not like us are important. That is part of why I have worked so hard on interfaith relations. That is part of why the Interfaith Thanksgiving Service is here tomorrow. To help us celebrate our 130th Anniversary and to allow people to have access to our building so it is not some mystifying place. It is a chance to learning about the other. For us and for them. Welcoming the other is part of our core mission. 36 times it says in the Torah we are to welcome the stranger. Although frankly I am not happy with that language either—the stranger, the other, the resident alien. Perhaps better would be my rabbi’s preferred term—fellow traveler.  

Recently, however, we have seen once again, rising anti-semitism and the use of old tropes. We’ve heard these before: Jews control the media. They own the banks. They run Hollywood. They are all rich. Some of these in very recent weeks have begun to strain black Jewish relations. Kanye West, Kyrie Irving and now Dave Chappelle. Others have tried to address their comments directly—Jonathan Greenblatt of the ADL, the Simon Wiesenthal Center, Piers Morgan, Jamie Lee Curtis, Jon Stewart, others . The response to Jon Stewart is fascinating. Some Jews find him anti-semtitic because he has often challenged modern Israel’s policies on the West Bank. There is plenty being written and said on all of these topics.. You can find much of it on YouTube and other social media. I encourage you to read, watch and stay aware. Many of you will find yourselves on the frontlines, responding to a casual comment made by a friend.  

These topics were the single largest topic after the retreat amongst our rabbis and cantors and rabbis and cantors to be. And as you might suspect there was no unanimity. It is painful. And for some including me, scary. Seeing graves desecrated in Waukegan, or signs over freeways in LA saying Kanye was right, or graffiti in Jacksonville or Atlanta are hate crimes. Let me say that again. These are hate crimes. So if you see something, say something. We have procedures here that include me contacting the ADL and the surrounding synagogues as well as the EPD. We can’t let this go unchecked. We are a signature synagogue of the ADL and we will be hosting them again to address these very troubling trends. At the end of this d’var Torah, I will list the best books on this topic that I have read in the past few years. 

One of the things that concerns me the most are the people who we long thought were friends and partners in irradicating racism and anti-semitism may not be as friendly as we thought. But here is what I think I also know. I will never fully know the experience of living in a black skin. I can take off my kippah or my necklace and no one will have to know that I am Jewish. You men have a different issue—and it was a real issue in Germany. Black people cannot take off their skin. Systemic racism is real. And I can’t fully understand the pain that it has caused. Nevertheless. I don’t want to be naïve, but I refuse to believe that we are going back to a time where Jews, or frankly others, are loaded onto cattle cars and slaughtered in death camps. There have been hints of it—and worried Jews—when children were separated at the border or states like Florida and Texas shipped immigrants to other states including Illinois.  

When we lived in Lowell, we learned the history of the American Industrial Revolution. One thing that happened was the owners of the mills pitted one ethnic group against another in order to find cheaper and cheaper labor costs. First the mill girls, who helped reate an ideal utopian town, but then the mill owners brough in the Irish, the Friench Canadians, the Greeks. Each group brought their own traditions enriching Lowell with their diversity.  But often they fought bitterly. In fact, one of the Irish Catholic churches is built across the canal from the Greek Orthodox church. There were battles nearly every day. The bridge over the canal is now known as the Peace Bridge.  

Here is Elgin, we are fortunate. The following people have reached out to me, as your rabbi on behalf of CKI, to make sure we are OK. Pastor Parks at Second Baptist and his predecessor Pastor Nat Edmonds, Apostle Larry Henderson, and City Councilors Corey Dixon and Tish Powell. There will be more to come from this, I am sure. It is a delicate dance but it is important. It comes with building relationships and the trust that comes with it over time. People were surprised when I showed up at an Anti-Asian Hate rally a few years ago. My response? Where else would I be? 

Here is something we can do. I think. Late yesterday I received an email from Bob Langlois at Holy Trinity, addressed to those who championed the Crop Walk. Councilor Corey Dixon reports that one of the smaller black churches on the west side of Elgin, Philadelphia Holiness Church Baptist Church lost their furnace this week. “Baby, it’s cold outside.” We are grateful for our boilers and heating system and as a small congregation we know just how expensive not having heating can be. Therefore, I will be advancing some money to them so that they know that the Jewish people of Elgin care.  

The other thing we can do is show up. Show up tomorrow. Second Baptist will be here. Highland Avenue Church of the Brethren will be here. Holy Trinity, Zion Lutheran, Bethlehem Lutheran will be here. So will Saint Laurence Catholic Church, Junaid Afeef representing the Muslim tradition amongst others. Introduce yourself to someone new. Learn about a different tradition. Share your own journey to CKI, to the Elgin area. Bring a photo of your ancestors.  

There are whole theories about these types of encounters. The bottom line is that if people come to know us, they are less likely to hate us. There are debates about this topic as well. Of course. But this is where I have staked my rabbinate and will continue to do so.  

Anti-semitism is not a problem that will go away overnight. It is a problem that has existed for thousands of years. But we learn something from Abraham today. Listen carefully. 

Book List: 

It Could Happen Here, by Jonathan Greenblatt 

How to Fight Anti-Semitism by Bari Weiss 

First the Jews: Combatting the Longest Running Hate Campaign by Evan Moffic 

“And the Lord appeared to Abraham at the entrance of his tent in the heat of the day.” (Gen 18:1)
 It is the first verse of what we are reading today.  

We learn much from today’s Torah portion, right at the very beginning. This portion is jam packed. It includes the promise made to Sarah that she would have a child (even though she is so old), Abraham’s arguing with G-d about sparing Sodom and Gomorrah and the concept of a minyan, the birth of Isaac, expelling Hagar and Ishmael and the binding of Isaac. 

From this very first verse, we derive two important mitzvot. The first is about visiting the sick, bikkur holim in Hebrew. Yes, this is a mitzvah that is incumbent on all of us—not just the professional clergy—and our example is G-d who visited Abraham in order to help him heal. 

The second is the mitzvah of hospitality, hachnasat orchim. When we hear the portion, in just a little bit, listen to how Abraham rushed, raced to welcome these three men, or angels, or messengers, or strangers, even though he didn’t recognize them, even tho he was still recovering from his circumcision. The midrash teaches that Abraham and Sarah’s tent was open on all four sides precisely so they could welcome people whoever came across the dusty desert. That’s audacious hospitality. 

Today, however, we are going to examine praying for people who are in need of healing of mind, body or spirit. It can be part of visiting the sick. Every time I go visit someone in the hospital I ask them what they want me to pray for, if anything. For some that is surprising because we Jews are really good at praying from the book but less good at off-the-cuff prayers. We want to make sure we do it right! Maybe, however, we need to learn that there is no right or wrong way to pray, that this becomes part of the discussion between keva, the structure of the service and kavanah, the intention behind the words. 

Every week at CKI as part of the Torah service we say a Mi Sheberach, or even more than one.. There is a power in adding some prayers to the Torah service. The Torah itself acts as a witness. If we look in our siddur, Siddur Sim Shalom, we find Mi Sheberach prayers for someone called up to the Torah, male or female, or even together in a group aliyah, for a woman recovering for childbirth, for parents or a newborn girl so that the child can be named at the synagogue, for a wedding couple as an aufruf, for a bar or bat mitzvah, and of course a prayer for healing. 

We also took on saying a Mi Sheberach on Fridays at the request of some members who didn’t used to come on Shabbat morning.  

What is this prayer?  

Like Jews we argue about lots of things. Including how to do a Mi Sheberach. And there are lots of questions. So let me attempt to answer some of them:  

• Who is entitled to one? Anyone who is in need of healing of mind, body or spirit. You get to decide. Sometimes it is people with serious medical conditions. Sometimes it is people with chronic medical conditions. Sometimes it is people who are in the hospital or in rehab. Sometimes it is people who are struggling with a mental illness or a long-standing disability.   Sometimes, it is for people who have a cold. Can it be for all COVID sufferrs, my answer would be “You bet.” For the flu? RSV? Sure.  
• Does the person have to be Jewish? No, we can pray for people who are not Jewish. And we can pray for someone who is Jewish who doesn’t have a Hebrew name.   
• Does the person have to be in the hospital? No. If you feel you would like a mi shebeirach said for you or a loved one, then say one.  

• Can it be for a group of people? Yes, we have often prayed for the people facing a natural disaster, for the Jewish community of France after an anti-semetic attack—or for the Tree of Life synagogue, for frontline workers, for the people of the Ukraine. 

But there were two remaining questions I struggle with. Can you pray for a pet? For many of us our pets become part of our family and many like to pray for them. It is clear that a pet can feel pain. It is also clear that we have some prayers at the beginning of our service that suggest that all creatures praise G-d. I have often wondered about that. Are the lyrics referring to all people—not just Jews making Judaism part of universalism instead of particularistic. Yes, I believe so. Or is it about all creatures—humans, animals, even plants, perhaps the earth itself as some have suggested. That too! When I asked this question in my alumni association, the response was varied. Some felt it was OK when we ask for names out loud to mention a pet. Others felt it would be inappropriate or even offensive to have a pet on a printed list for Mi Sheberach. We recently did a pet blessing which many congregations now do for Shabbat Noach. So if you want to say a blessing for a pet, OK, just mention the name and we will continue. Don’t turn it into a multiple paragraph description. 

The other question that has come up—and for me this was the tough one. What about praying for things like “the world at large.” or “our democracy.” It seems to me that the world at large is in need of healing or repair. That is the basis for the concept of tikkun olam, the repair of the world. Many of our extra prayers on page 148 of our siddur address those very questions as does the Aleinu prayer that prays for a time when the world will be healed. Our democracy is covered with the prayer for our country. We Jews have been praying for our leaders and advisors since Jeremiah’s day and we still have it covered in the formulation we have as the prayer for our country. 

What this additional study came down to for me is the idea that a Mi Sheberach prayer is for a person or persons or even a pet but not necessarily a philosophy or the whole world. Those, however, can continue to be prayed for in other contexts or while we are singing Mi Sheberach. 

The Mi Shebeirach prayer is a prayer that brings me hope. I like the idea in the Friedman version that we pray to give us courage to make our lives a blessing. I pray that this prayer will give you hope as well. When I visit someone in the hospital, I ask them what they want to pray for. Often, I get answers like strength, courage, to not be in pain. Recently I got mercy as an answer. I pray for a skilled and compassionate care team.  You need both. Skill and compassion. 

Here are the traditional words in English so we can look at them: 

May the one who blessed our ancestors, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah, bless [name] son/daughter of [parents], since he/she has come up to the Torah in honor of God and Torah. May he/she merit from the Holy One of Blessing protection, rescue from any trouble or distress, and from any illness, minor or serious; may God send blessing and success in his/her every endeavor, together with all Israel, and let us say, Amen.   

Note that we pray through the zecut, the merits of our ancestors, both the patriarch and the matriarch’s. Some people believe that when praying for healing with someone’s Hebrew name, it is the mother’s Hebrew name that is necessary.  

It is important to teach that there is no magic in these words, and just because we say a Mi Sheberach or even years of them, it does not necessarily mean that someone will be cured. There is a difference between curing and healing.  

When does someone come off the list? When you–or they feel it is time. That is often at CKI a moment of celebration. Sometimes, however, they come off because there is no longer any hope of curing. The person hangs in the balance. Those moments are hard. And that is when we especially stand with you as a community. Again, there is a difference between curing and healing–and there maybe other parts of their life in need of healing, not just their physical bodies. I tend in that situation to leave someone on until they have actually died. It can be a source of comfort for them and for you.

How do we think prayers like that work? There is science now behind why prayer and mediation help with a range of healing? 

“More things are wrought by prayer
Than this world dreams of.” (Alfred, Lord Tennyson; from Morte d’Arthur)  

“Different types of meditation have been shown to result in psychological and biological changes that are actually or potentially associated with improved health. Meditation has been found to produce a clinically significant reduction in resting as well as ambulatory blood pressure,[2,3] to reduce heart rate,[4] to result in cardiorespiratory synchronization,[5] to alter levels of melatonin and serotonin,[6] to suppress corticostriatal glutamatergic neurotransmission,[7] to boost the immune response,[8] to decrease the levels of reactive oxygen species as measured by ultraweak photon emission,[9] to reduce stress and promote positive mood states,[10] to reduce anxiety and pain and enhance self-esteem[11] and to have a favorable influence on overall and spiritual quality of life in late-stage disease.[12] Interestingly, spiritual meditation has been found to be superior to secular meditation and relaxation in terms of decrease in anxiety and improvement in positive mood, spiritual health, spiritual experiences and tolerance to pain.[”  

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2802370/  

So the science is becoming clearer. Prayer and meditation help in healing.   

Besides growing scientific evidence that prayer works, really really works to provide or aid in physical healing, there seems to be something else. It helps a person know that people care about them, that they are part of a community. It is part of why we do a misheberach here both on Friday night and Saturday morning. You, telling us who you are concerned about, helps support all of you—and the people you are praying for, while building our own community. Do not underestimate the power of prayer. 

Here are Debbie Friedman’s words:  

Mi Shebeirach  

Mi shebeirach avoteinu
M’kor hab’racha l’imoteinu
May the source of strength,
Who blessed the ones before us,
Help us find the courage to make our lives a blessing,
and let us say, Amen.  

Mi shebeirach imoteinu
M’kor habrachah l’avoteinu
Bless those in need of healing with r’fuah sh’leimah,
The renewal of body, the renewal of spirit,
And let us say, Amen
     Debbie Friedman, z”l  

Debbie Friedman – Mi Shebeirach (2001)  

Debbie Friedman would always teach that she would sing it through one time for all of us and then we could join in. It was a nice tradition and it was based on another prayer, that Moses said for his sister Miriam. El Na Refana La. Please G-d, heal her. A simple prayer of healing. Just 4 words when Miriam was struck with a skin disease. And she was healed. Debbie Friedman’s version of Misheberach, which we usually do at CKI is not the only setting.  

Here is Craig Taubman doing a combination of Misheberach and El Na Refana La.   

Mi Shebeirach – Craig Taubman  

Here is another version of El Na Refa Na La done at Hadassah Hospital. It won the Hadassah Song Festival.   

Hadassah Healing Prayer “El Na Refa Na La” by Yair Levi and Shai Sol – רפא נא-עם ארגון נשות הדסה 

There are other prayers for healing in Judaism.  

Asher Yatzar, The Bathroom Prayer  

At the beginning of our Saturday morning service there is a prayer for healing that is often described as the bathroom prayer. Yes, it is the prayer that people say after coming out of the bathroom when everything comes out right. But it also talks about G-d being the healer of all flesh. G-d is the ultimate doctor. I love the fact that 2000 years ago the rabbis understood that the body is a finely balanced network. I have seen that with patients today. A specialist, a cardiologist or a pulmonologist or a nephrologist could keep any one organ going almost indefinitely but keeping all of them going at the same time can become impossible.   

Baruch Atah Adonai, Ehloheinu Melech Ha’olam, asher yatzar et Ha’adam b’chochmah u’vara vo n’kavim, n’kavim, chalulim, chalulim. Galui v’yadu’ah lifnei chiseh ch’vodecha she’im yipate’ach echad m’hem o y’satem echad m’hem, ee-efshar l’hitkayem v’la’amod l’fanecha. Barcuh Ata Adonai, rofeh chol basar u’mafli la’asot.  

“Blessed is our Eternal God, Creator of the universe, who has made our bodies with wisdom, combining veins, arteries, and vital organs into a finely balanced network. Wonderous Fashioner and Sustainer of life, Source of our health and strength, we give You thanks and praise.” (Gates of Prayer translation, page 284)  

Amidah:  

In the Amidah, the second paragraph called the G’vurot that talks about G-d’s strength, has one line in it. “You sustain life through love, giving life to all (reviving the dead) through great compassion, supporting the fallen, healing the sick, (v’refuah holim) freeing the captive, keeping faith with those who sleep in the dust.”  

I often pause perosnally on that phrase just slightly to think about those I am praying for.   

On Shabbat, even G-d rests so we don’t ask for anything. During the weekday Amidah, there is one of the 18 blessings that is a request for healing. Here is the Lev Shalom translation:  

“Heal us Adonai that we may be healed. Save us Adonai that we may be saved. You are the one deserving of praise. Bring complete healing to all of our suffering. For you are G-d and Sovereign, a faithful and compassionate healer. Baruch Atah Adonai, Healer of the ill among your people Israel.”  

Adon Olam:  

Often I sing the last paragraph of Adon Olam in the hospital with something. I use a Debbie Friedman version that is like a lullaby…  

B’yado afkid ruchi 

b’et ishan v’airah. V’im ruchi g’viati 

Adonai li v’lo irah.  

I have stood with nurses in the ICU and watched in amazement as someone’s blood pressure has stabilized.  

Byado  

 It is important to know with the relatively new HIPPA laws, the hospitals cannot call us to tell us you are in the hospital so unless you or a friend or relative call, we do not know. And we do not share that information unless you give us permission. So call us. We care.  

If you, yourself are in need of healing, you may need other things. Meals, transportation to medical appointments, babysitting, shoveling. These are things your CKI community can help with. It is part of being community.  

How does all of this tie to the parsha, the portion? G-d visited Abraham after the circumcision, and G-d prayed. In the meantime, I pray with you and for you for a refuat hanefesh, refuat haguf, a full, complete healing of mind, body and spirit.   

A Special Mi Sheberach for Veteran’s Day: 

While this blessing doesn’t start with the traditional formula “Mi Sheberach, May the One who blessed,” it fits neatly into that category. Since we mark Veterans’ Day this weekend, I felt we should include it in the service as an example of a group Mi Sheberach. 

Compassionate God, Source of Mercy, we pay tribute to those who have served our country, and express our gratitude for their courage and selflessness, both those among us today and those of generations past. This nation, built by those born of this soil and those who have come here from all the corners of the earth, is on a continual journey toward its destiny.  

May we never let down those who have served in defense of this country. 

May we uphold the values of freedom, of the inherent dignity of every human being, by our own right conduct, by the kindness and tolerance we show to one another. 

May we lead the world by example, and become, in the words of Isaiah, “a light to the nations.” 

Then will the labors and sacrifices of these veterans be honored not in words alone, but by our deeds. 

From the URJ Website 

While I can tell you the difference between Veteran’s Day and Memorial Day, this poem by Archibald MacLeish is a powerful reminder of what many of our veterans think about their service and the fact that so, so many of them lost friends in battle. Deriving meaning from their lives is often an important step in healing the wounds of war. Remembering their fallen comrades seems an important way to honor the survivors’ service. So I offer you one of my favorite poems just before Mourner’s Kaddish: 

The Young Dead Soldiers Do Not Speak 

Making Our Promises Count”  

G’mar Chatimah Tovah. May you be sealed for a blessing. While I keep saying that Yom Kippur is not sad; it is one of the most joyous holidays, Yom Kippur can be hard. Our liturgy, developed over thousands of years, teaches us a number of things about G-d and what happens on this day of fear and trembling, the culmination of the Yamim Nora’im. One image of G-d based on that ancient liturgy is of  Avinu Malkeinu, Our Father our King. This King, sitting on a throne, judges us and then writiing in the Book of Life, who shall live and who shall die. We are assured that if we engage in tefilah—prayer, teshuvah, return and repentance, and tzedakah, we can avert the decree. It’s a promise, no? 

But what happens when good people who engage in all of those activities, still die? All too often people ask me things like, “My mother was good. She gave tzedakah, she was in shul every week. Why did she die?” The truth is, and it is a hard truth, we are all going to die sometime. The question becomes for me how do we live our lives until that time. The question also is on this holy of holy nights how do we make our promises count.  

Kol Nidre is about evaluating our vows, our promises. It’s about looking deep within, acknowledging our mistakes and promising not to do them again. It’s about asking for forgiveness and granting forgiveness to others who have wronged us. Its about looking forward and looking back. It is written in Aramaic, not in Hebrew because it is a legal document where we actually convene a “court on high” and a court here on earth. That is why all the Torah scrolls were out held by our leadership team. They are our earthly court with the Torah scrolls as our witnesses. Its origins are shrouded in mystery. Perhaps it was the conversos, those forced to convert during the Spanish Inquisition who penned it. Perhaps not. Its music is haunting and can propel our prayers to the very vault of heaven. 

Many traditional Jews will say things like, I will be at services, for sure, by 6:00 PM, bli neder, without a vow. That way they will not have to undo a vow they didn’t live up to.  

We are told that for sins against G-d, Yom Kippur atones but for sins against humanity, Yom Kippur does not atone until we make peace with our neighbor. G-d does promise to forgive us, to the 1000th generation. We see this promise first in the 13 Attributes, when Moses is hidden in the cleft of the rock after the sin of the Golden Calf. We sing these words over and over again as part of our Selichot prayers throughout Yom Kippur. G-d teaches Moses that by using these very words, and reminding G-d of G-d’s essential nature that G-d will forgive sin, transgression and iniquity. 

G-d promises again in the Book of Numbers, when the Israelites are being a little cranky, a little kvetchy and G-d is losing patience. V’yomer Adonai Selachti kidvarecha. And G-d said, I have forgiven you according to your word. This is a promise—and it is reassuring. So be assured. You’ve been forgiven, already!  There is very little that we can do that will not merit G-d’s forgiveness. We have to do our part too. That’s our promise. 

(You could all go home now and I say this every year but no one ever does! And maybe that would be more important. To do real teshuvah, repentance, with the people closest to us who we may have wounded with an unkind word. 65% of all the sins we confess have to do with speech, think about that!) 

Many people tell me they don’t believe in G-d. Sometimes what they are really saying is they don’t believe in the concept of G-d, that is seemingly central to this holiday. A G-d that judges, that sits on a throne, who is all knowing, all powerful and all good, who seals your fate. Perhaps that’s your struggle too. That’s OK. And that’s what I am going to address tonight. 

So, are there other images of G-d beside sitting on a throne? Who is this G-d? 

Rabbi Sandy Sasso, the first woman Reconstructionist Rabbi wrote a children’s book, In G-d’s Name,  that I love to use here and in interfaith settings with both kids and adults. How appropriate to illustrate my point with this book in the 130th Anniversary of CKI and the 50th anniversary of women’s ordination in this country. This story details a variety of names we call G-d, throughout the Torah…Source of Life, Creator of Light, Shepherd, Maker of Peace, My Rock, Redeemer, Ancient One, Healer, Comforter, Mother, Father, Friend, One. Perhaps one or more of them resonates with you.  

This summer a new book came out that I read on vacation. Rabbi Toba Spitzer wrote, G-d is Here, Reimaging the Divine. In this book she details other ways we see G-d. There are many metaphors for G-d, she reassures us. I quibble with her title. I think she is rediscovering metaphors that are already there and expanding our understanding of the one G-d.  

G-d as Water, the Source of Spiritual Transformation. And there is a promise here:  

Adonai shall guide you always, and satisfy your soul in drought…and you shall be like a watered garden. (Isaiah 58:11).  

That’s a promise.  

G-d is described as a well of liberation, and endless source from which we can draw. (Isaiah 12:1)  

G-d is also described as a Fount of Lining Waters, Mayyim Hayyim. Both Rabbi Spitzer and I have deep connections, pun intended with Mayyim Hayyim, the community mikveh in Boston. That name was not an accident. As Rabbi Spitzer says, “Water does not command or judge—it flows and irrigates, nourishes and sustains. G-d as water invites us to identify when and how we become spiritually “dry” and what it might mean to feel spiritually nourished.”  

Tonight when we talk much about teshuvah, I offer this quote: “Like water, teshuvah is both destructive and creative. It dissolves the person you were but simultaneously provides the moisture you need to grow anew. It erodes the hard edges of your willfulness but also refreshens your spirit. It can turn the tallest barriers of moral blindness into rubble while it also gently nourishes the hidden seeds of hope buried deep in your soul. Teshuvah, like water, has the power both to wash away past sin and to shower you with the blessing of a new future, if only you trust it and allow yourself to be carried along in its current.” Dr. Louis Newman 

In this example, water used for good becomes like the face of G-d.  

G-d promises after Noah that G-d will not destroy the world again by water. The sign of that reassuring covenant is the rainbow. There is an old Negro Spiritual, “By Fire Next Time.” James Baldwin used this reference for his book of the same name. We promise that we will partner with G-d in creation, to also take care of the earth. That is a Jewish value we call bal tashchit, do not destroy. 

G-d will nourish us with water. That’s a promise. 

G-d as Place. Hamakom. Jacob ran away from home with his wounded brother threatening to kill him. It is not until much, much later that they seem to reconcile, to do some process of teshuvah, and then they go their separate ways. But in this scene, isolated and alone in the desert, he puts a rock under his head and has a dream of a ladder with angels going up and down the rungs. When he awoke, he exclaimed, “Adonai is in this place, hamakom, and I didn’t know it. How awesome is this place, hamakom”.  

We may all have places that are special to us. Mine is a stretch of Up North Lake Michigan beach, where the sunsets are terrific and the breeze in the birches reminds me of the Presence of the Divine. It is this place, even in my memory that always makes me say WOW!  If you are willing, close your eyes. Take a deep breath. Take another deep breath. Imagine that place, that makom, that makes you say WOW! That place where you know you are in the Presence, and the Place, the makom of the Divine. Feel the breeze, the ruach, the wind, the spirit on your skin. Know that you are the beloved child of G-d. Take another deep breath. Open your eyes slowly.  

The great irony about calling G-d place is that we are always in one, and that makes G-d present wherever we are. G-d can be present in any and every moment. That’s a promise. 

For some that place, hamakom, may be this very room. A place where we can draw close to the Divine, to experience G-d’s presence directly. Ashrei teaches us, Happy are those who dwell in Your house, may they always praise You, selah!” In our Yom Kippur liturgy we actually talk about place. We say, “Bring us to Your holy mountain, that we may rejoice in Your house of prayer, so that it may we may rejoice in Your House of prayer and call it a house of prayer for all people.” (page 371, Mahzor for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, Harlow) Look around you. See the people gathered in this Makom and know that it has become a place of prayer for all people, a place to draw close to G-d. That’s a promise.  

We use the name, Hamakom, when we comfort mourners saying, Hamakom yinachem etchem. May The Place comfort you among all the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem. I always add “and all the world.” My colleague, Rabbi David Paskin, after the death of his young daughter, asked why does this prayer use Hamakom? Why not Compassionate One or Comforter or some other name of G-d? .He answers his own question in his song HaMakom. In the process of grief, we can go into that place and out of that place that hurts so much, and that very place will comfort us and eventually heal us. That is a promise.  

As we started this discussion with, when Moses needed reassurance of G-d’s presence, he begs to see G-d. G-d tells him “Hinei Makom iti, Here in this place….then hides Moses in the cleft of the rock. From there Moses hears the 13 attributes of the Divine, so central to the High Holy Day liturgy Here, in this Place, Moses found compassion and loving-kindness, endless mercy and forgiveness. We can find that too, even today. G-d promises that we will be forgiven if we use these very words. And then we hear, Vayomer Adonai Selachti Kidvarecha. I have pardoned according to your word. That’s a promise.  

God as Sound and Silence. At the very beginning, G-d creates the world with Voice. G-d is described as a kol, a voice. G-d is the vibration that saturates the universe, as Spitzer teaches. Sometimes that Voice is music. Sometimes it is the voice of the shofar, waking us up. Sometimes it is the voice of choir and Stephanie. Sometimes it is a Broadway show tune that resonates. Peter Paul and Mary sang, “Music speaks louder than words. It’s the only thing that the whole world listens to.” Listening is an essential part of Judaism. Whether it is Adam and Eve in the garden when they are asked, “Where are you?”, the Israelites at the base of Mount Sinai when they heard the lightening and saw the thunder, the thundering Voice of G-d in the Psalm that we sing on Friday night, or Elijah when he heard the still small voice within. We are commanded to listen. “Hear O Israel, the Lord our G-d the Lord is One.” Listen, people, wake up. 

We promise then to proclaim this.  Sh’ma Yisrael, Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai Echad. Hear O Israel, the Lord our G-d. The Lord is One, Unique. We are witnesses to G-d’s oneness. 

G-d as Rock: There are many references to G-d as Rock. A sheltering Rock, a Rock of Refuge. Rock of Ages from the Chanukah song, “Ma’oz Tzur. A Protector. When we pray that Adonai Tzuri v’lo go’ali, we see G-d as my Rock This metaphor for G-d is one of strength and resilience. I find it reassuring as well. I don’t have to be in charge. G-d is that strength. I love to sit on the rocks at a place like Bar Harbor or Ogunquit, Maine. Many life decisions have been made “rocking” listening to that still, small voice. Rocks have a sense of eternity. This summer I spent time hunting for Petosky stones, found in northern Michigan they are ancient pieces of coral with patterns of hexagons. They remind me that life has been here long before me—and will continue long after me—if we take care of this wonderful creation.  

G-d as Cloud—But sometimes it is hard to see evidence of G-d. G-d can be shrouded in mystery. Again, the Israelites needed to be reassured that G-d was going with them as they first wandered in the wilderness. G-d appeared to them as a column of cloud by day and a column of fire by night. Clouds can obscure some things and make others more visible. Sometimes on a foggy day, I can see clearer. Sometimes, when the light streams through the clouds, I can imagine that it is G-d talking to people in all sorts of different ways. G-d promises to go with us, even when we wander, even when the path is not clear. That’s a promise. It is up to us to listen. We promise to listen carefully.  

We’ve examined a number of metaphors for G-d. A number of promises that G-d made and continues to make. For Yom Kippur, it is clear that G-d promises to take us back in love. If we return. It is up to us to promise. To make those promises count. 

We promise, bli neder, without a vow.  

• To be caretakers with G-d in this creation. 
• To love G-d as G-d loves us, to love our neighbor, our fellow. To love the stranger. 
• To forgive as G-d forgives  
• To find HaMakom, the place that inspires. 
• To listen carefully to the Voice of G-d and the still small voice within. 
• To witness G-d’s presence in our lives. 
• To make our promises count. 

I dream of expanding this work deeply. I wanted to take so many pictures up north and illustrate each of her chapters. That’s one level. We will be hosting an adult study class in January on concepts of G-d. We are hopeful that Rabbi Spiter will be able to join us for one session on Zoom. I challenge you to listen carefully to the language of G-d even during this Yom Kippur. Find images and metaphors that work for you. My promise: I will walk with you and help you explore. No one metaphor is correct for everyone, and over time our own understanding may change. That is why the rabbis teach about the Avot prayer, the beginning of the Amidah, that it says, Elohai Avraham, Elohai Yitzhak, V’lohai Ya’akov, the G-d of Abraham, the G-d of Isaac and the G-d of Jacob. Each had their own understanding of the one G-d. So did Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah. 

Ultimately we promise to love and to know that we are loved. May this be a Yom Kippur of making our promises count—to G-d, to our fellows and to ourselves. May this be a Yom Kippur of finding meaning and love. 

Last night we talked about promises and about concepts of G-d. Today’s haftarah from the prophet Isaiah has haunted me all my adult life. Some of you may be getting a little hungry about now. Some of you may find that hunger distracting. Imagine going to be every night hungry. Isaiah demands in G-d’s voice, “Is this the fast I desire.” The answer is no. Rather it is to feed the hungry, house the homeless, clothe the naked. It is a process of rebuilding. Rebuilding roads, houses, It sounds like a hurricane had just hit Eretz Yisrael. (for those wondering, JUF has a special fund set up for disaster relief). Or maybe it was a pandemic, as organizations and communities struggle to rebuild after two years of being apart.  

There are lots of opportunities to rebuild—to make our voices and our lives count. To truly help the wider community move from surviving to thriving. We do part of that here at CKI. Our participation in the soup kettle, thanks initially to Nina and now to Judi and Barb. Our community garden, which lives out the commandment to leave the corners of our field thanks initially to Sherry Wiesman and now to Robin and Jerry. The Klionskys, the Rockwoods, the Morgans made a difference this summer too as we gathered at Kenyon Farms to harvest corn for Food for Greater Elgin. It was a warm, buggy morning but the sense of satisfaction in knowing that people would have fresh sweet corn that evening was palpable. Your donations to CKI for Project Isaiah to support Food for Greater Elgin help too. Your participation in each of these makes a difference. Your voices, your actions count.  

Later in the month we will have the opportunity to walk in the annual Crop Walk. Our own Peg Lehman with her team at the Church of the Brethren, is often the local person who raises the most money locally. Her participation matters. Her voice counts. Those contributions support Elgin Cooperative Ministries, which support the local soup kettles. Our vegetables from the community garden go to one. Our work at Zion Lutheran support another.   Every night in Elgin, there are meals available to support our must vulnerable. Watch for more details about how you can enjoy a stroll along the Fox with Simon and me and usually Caleb, as we raise money for the soup kettles and honor Michael Montgomery, the executive director of Food for Greater Elgin. Your voice and your actions will count. You will, as Abraham Joshua Heschel said, “praying with your feet.” 

These are feel good moments.  

Sadly, these efforts do not go far enough. There are still hungry people. There are still homeless people. There are still people who lack the basic necessities including adequate clothing, especially important as we head into the winter. While the Torah and this haftarah are quite clear, it is our obligation to take care of the most vulnerable, some of the approaches that have been used to do so through the millennia are more like band-aids. There are still needy amongst us. Perhaps according to Torah there will always be. These seem to be entrenched problems facing not just our communities, but the nation and the world. There are days when the problems that Isaiah outlines seem worse today than when Simon and I, together with others of the Greater Lowell Interfaith Leadership Alliance first started working on them some 36 years ago.  

The solutions are not clear. And we may disagree on how to solve them. What is clear is that each of these problems needs advocacy. Using your voice to speak out and demand that systems change to take care of the most vulnerable. One way to make your voice count is to find that cause for which you are passionate and speak out. There are plenty of issues. Let your voice be heard. Loudly and clearly. Join with others to amplify your voice. Write postcards. Send letters. Make phone calls. Join an organization that shares your views and work for a better tomorrow, for all. This November you have the opportunity to vote. A right that our ancestors did not have in many countries we once lived in. Vote for the candidates that have put together the clearest plans and solutions on the issues you are most passionate about. Every day my email is filled with requests to involved either for advocacy, action or yes, funding from any number of organizations that are doing this work. Some of them are specifically Jewish. Some are not. By joining your voice together with others, we can and will make a difference. Your voice counts. Your life matters. That is how as the verse from Psalms we will study later says, “Teach us to number our days that we may find a heart of wisdom.” The days of our life are short.  

At CKI we have a vision statement that includes meaningful observance—and we hope that today is a fulfillment of that plank for each of you. We engage in lifelong learning—and you have the opportunity to participate in some later today. Today supports our plank of building community, which all of this taken together does. Look around you—both in the room and on Zoom and see how strong we are as a community. 

Yet there is one more plank in our vision statement—embracing diversity. Diversity at CKI includes many things. 17 foreign countries that people were born in, 30 communities, 11 school districts. Different types of family structures, singles, families with kids, families without kids, old (101) to new born—8 weeks, straight, gay, trans, multi-racial, interfaith—all of that and more is CKI.  

Isaiah demands one more thing, to not ignore your kin. One group of the vulnerable includes those who are at high risk because they have disabilities or chronic illness. Recently we had an amazing morning here at CKI, the Bat Mitzvah of Kathy Lange. Once she was told she couldn’t have a Bat Mitzvah. She is so happy she was finally able to do that which was denied. She is proud of what she accomplished—and many of you expressed your own pride in the moment. We have made strides at CKI to be welcoming, to embrace those who are differently abled. Our first floor is almost entirely accessible, our use of Zoom allows even more people to participate fully, our ability to bring a Torah down from the bimah so someone can have an aliyah who cannot come up to the bimah, our sensory room when it is not being used for babysitting, is helpful for those who need a quiet place to chill. All of those are ways we embrace diversity and do not ignore our kin.  

Recently, a congregation took this morning’s haftarah and made a stunning video to challenge us to go even further. I want to leave you with that video and its haunting question.  

Yom Kippur 2022: A Call from High-Risk and Disabled Jews 

May this be a Yom Kippur where your voice counts, where all our voices count Where we feed the hungry, house the homeless, clothe the naked and where we don’t ignore our kin so that all will be truly welcome here and that this will be as Isaiah said, “A house of prayer for all people.”