Our Torah portion starts today with the word, “Vayishlach.” “And he sent.”

What did he send? He sent messengers. Those messengers hearken back to the messengers from last week, malachim, ascending and descending the ladder. He sent a message that he was coming. This is no surprise attack. Then he sent gifts.

Why? Was he trying to appease his brother? Trying to protect himself? Trying to save his own life? Remember, when last we saw the brothers today, Jacob had stolen Esau’s birthright, and Esau had promised to kill him. Jacob, at the urging of his mother, ran away to Laban’s household. That was 20 years ago! That is a long time to hold a grudge. But Jacob was nonetheless afraid.

This is the season of giving. Most of us will probably give or receive more than one gift this holiday season.

Why? Some of it is because of the gifts that Jesus received in the manger. You wouldn’t show up at a birthday party empty handed. The wise men brought the baby Jesus, gold, frankincense and myrrh. My colleague, Rabbi David Paskin, himself a singer songwriter, on a cold December day stood outside the old Academy for Jewish Religion back on 86^th Street in New York and explained, his favorite Christmas Carol was “Little Drummer Boy.” The Little Drummer Boy gave a gift from his heart. All he had. A song.

Think back to your favorite gift that you received. What was it?

While Chanukah did not start as a gift giving season, that has become a tradition. Whether you give gifts to the children for 8 nights or handle it some other way, there is now an expectation that the children get gifts. I don’t believe it is just the close proximity to Christmas. I think it is more like the portion we have today. Gift can be a symbol of love.

In our house presents came for Christmas, not for Chanukah. For Chanukah we got a Jewish book and some gelt. One year I remember the bike. One year I remember the Chrisie doll that had hair that “really” grew. One year I remember ice skates and roller skates so no matter what the weather we could skate that morning. These were carefully chosen presents. Chosen with love.

But gifts can’t buy you love. That’s what we learn from the Beatles:

Can’t buy me love, love
Can’t buy me love

I’ll buy you a diamond ring my friend
If it makes you feel all right
I’ll get you anything my friend
If it makes you feel all right
Cause I don’t care too much for money
For money can’t buy me love.

I think that many of our favorite gifts are not tangible. They may be gift of time. The gift of creating memories. The gift of heart. The gift of comfort and solace.

G-d gives us gifts too. Life, the Torah. Solace, Peace, Comfort. As people then said, “Everything.”

What are the gifts that we bring here, to make this place a holy place? Again, people said, our whole-heartedness, our attitude, our time, our service.

Debbie Friedman, of blessed memory, wrote a song, “Holy Place” about those very gifts:

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

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

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

But did Jacob’s gifts work? With thanks to Rabbi Michael Pitkowsky who pulled these quotes for his own d’var Torah this week, maybe yes and maybe no.

“Like somebody who takes a passing dog by the ears is one who meddles in the quarrel of another.” (Proverbs 26:17) Nahman bar Samuel said: This may be compared to the case of a robber who was sleeping on a path, when a man passed and woke him up, saying, “Get up, for there is danger here.” At that he arose and began beating him, at which he [the victim] cried out, “[God], rebuke this wicked man!” “I was asleep,” he retorted, “and you woke me up.” So too did the Holy One, blessed be He, say to him [Jacob]: He [Esau] was going his own way, yet you did send to him, saying, “Thus says your servant Yaakov.” (Gen. 32:5) [Genesis Rabbah 75:3, trans. modified Soncino]

I think this is saying that Jacob should have left well enough alone. In this case it would seem the gifts were not effective.

A later commentary, from the Ramban, had this to say:

“In my opinion this too hints at the fact that we instigated our falling into the hand of Edom [Rome] for the Hasmonean kings during the period of the Second Temple entered into a covenant with the Romans, and some of them even went to Rome to seek an alliance. This was the cause of falling into the hands of the Romans.” (Ramban: Commentary on the Torah, trans. Chavel)

Gifts can change the balance of power. And not always for the better. I grew up learning we should never be a guest at someone’s house and go empty handed. But when I traveled with AJWS to Guatemala we were told to leave the gifts at home. The agencies we were visiting would think they needed to reciprocate and that would put them in an unfair advantage or an awkward position.

At this stage, Jacob doesn’t know whether his gifts will work or not. He puts his wives and children, his riches on one side of the river and crosses over. It is a great piece of military strategy. He will meet Esau alone. He will take that risk alone. He needs some time alone. To think. To pray. To gain courage. It is not quite clear what he is doing there.

Being alone is another gift. But sometimes it can be disturbed by wrestling.

Again, he seems to be in a dream like state. And he wrestles with…who? Himself? A man? An angel? The text calls him a man but the commentaries have lots of ideas.

How many of you have wrestled. With brothers or sisters? Frequently that’s the first wrestling around we do. Or arm wrestling? Finger wrestling? Leg wrestling? We used to have a game called “Saturday morning wrestling.” It was always a chance to blow off some steam.

My spiritual director used to tell me that when I was having difficulty sleeping, when something was really gnawing on me, that was G-d. G-d was trying to tell me something and I should pay attention. A G-d moment. Wrestling is part of the journey. We all do it at some point.

Jacob asks for a blessing. Oh, the irony. The one who tricked his father out a blessing for his brother now wants a new one. And he is given one. And a new name. Israel. Yisrael. One who struggles with G-d and men and prevails. Wrestling becomes a blessing. Wrestling creates a new name. We are all children of Israel, descendants of Jacob. We are all G-dwrestlers.

The ability to dream, to bless, to wrestle are gifts. That is what this place, this very space is. Our sanctuary, our mishkan, is a holy place. A Makom, filled with the Divine Presence, where we can dream and bless and wrestle. Where we can find comfort and solace. Where we can celebrate and mourn. This is what Jacob realized when he said, “G-d was in this place (makom) and I did not know it. “Makom she-libi ohev. The place that my heart holds dear. Sham ragali molikhot oti. There my feet will bring me near.” (Mishnah Tractate Sukkah)

Jacob and Esau meet in the morning. They appear to reconcile and then they go their separate ways, in peace. How can we understand this story in light of the tragedy that is continuing to unfold in Aleppo? How can we understand Aleppo in light of this story? That we must continue to wrestle. That we must continue to be peacemakers.

The midrash, again supplied by Rabbi Pitkowsky, tells us that it is this very portion we need to read to learn how to negotiate:

“Rabbi Yehonatan said: Anybody who wants to placate a king or ruler and doesn’t know their ways and ceremonies should place this parashah in front of them and learn from it ceremonies, behaviors, and placations.” (Midrash Lekah Tov, Vayishlah, 32:5)

After we finished most of musaf, I read the prayer for Aleppo written by Rabbi David Greenstein:

M’rahem `al ha-aretz – M’rahem `al ha-b’ri’ot
You, Who has Compassion on the Earth – You, Who has Compassion on All Creatures
We are overwhelmed as we look upon the carnage and suffering wrought upon the city of Aleppo and its surrounding regions.
And we are appalled that we, your children, are capable of inflicting such suffering upon our own brothers and sisters with heartless cruelty.
We are afraid that our prayers are too feeble and too late to stop the death, the pain and the destruction.
And we are anxious that our own spirits will drown in a sea of despair and hopelessness as we confront the enormity of human evil, human loss, human desperation and human apathy.

Please help all who are suffering to find relief and safety.
Please help those who courageously work to offer aid.
Please help all those who may be able to halt the death and the destruction of life and earth.
Please help us overcome our debilitating thoughts and feelings so that we may become Your agents who treasure every single life and who will create, identify and embrace every single opportunity, however small, to beat back evil and sustain mercy and life.
Rabbi David Greenstein

Then we rose for Kaddish. Using a song that Rabbi David Paskin wrote, after the death of his daughter, my blessing for each of you is”

“Hamakom…may the One who fills all space
Hamakom give us hope and give us strength
Hamakom…be with us and be with them
Hamakom yinachem etchem.”

May the One, The Place comfort you.

Today’s d’var Torah is dedicated to my brother, my younger brother, my only brother, whose birthday is tomorrow. Seems somehow appropriate.

These are the generations, the birthings of Isaac.

Today’s Torah portion is about having enough blessing, enough love to go around. Let me set the stage. After many years of not having a child, Rebecca is finally pregnant but is terribly uncomfortable. Pained. She goes to l’derosh, to seek out, to inquire, to ask of an oracle, of G-d directly, what is going on? G-d answers immediately. “And the Lord said to her: ‘Two nations are in your womb, and two peoples shall be separated from your body; and one people will be stronger than the other people; and the elder shall serve the younger.”

Yes, G-d talked directly to a woman! That’s important for other reasons. But let’s start with looking at this verb l’derosh. It is important. It means that we can seek out. It is also the word that we derive the word midrash from. It is part of how we do Torah study and for me it is how Torah brings meaning to our lives. We seek out that meaning.

Here is part of how. There is a story told about four men who entered pardes, paradise, that’s where the English word comes from. Ben Azzai, Ben Zoma, Acher (Elisa ben Abuyah) and Rabbi Akiva. Ben Azzai looked and died. Ben Zoma looked and went mad. Acher destroyed the plants. Only Akiva entered in peace and departed in peace.

This is an important story because it teaches us that before we go looking for meaning, we needed to be grounded. We need to be firmly rooted. We need to understand the tradition. That’s why it was the tradition that only men who were 40 and married were allowed to study the Kabbalah, Jewish mysticism. Because it was believed that by then, men would be rooted and would not go crazy.

But what was that Pardes they were trying to enter? The rabbis also teach that PaRDeS is an acronym for how we study Torah, that studying Torah itself is paradise. The letters stand for

Pey—the Peshat, the simple, plain meaning of the text.
Resh—the Remez, the hint of meaning
Dalad—The Drash—that verb we are talking about, l’derosh, to seek out, to find the meaning in the gaps of the text, to make midrash.
Samach—the Sod, the hidden, secret, mystical meaning of the text.

This all fits with the idea that there are 70 interpretations of Torah. 70 faces of Torah.

So what I really want to do is look at Esau. We don’t usually. Usually we just say that he is a ruddy, hairy hunter who Isaac loves because he likes the taste of game and Rebecca prefers Jacob who stays by the tents. Oy, choosing favorites as a parent is not good parenting but it is right here!

Rabbi Lord Sacks tells a story of Rav Kook, the first chief rabbi of Israel, who was asked to counsel a parent of someone who had moved further away from traditional Judaism. “He had given his son a good Jewish education. He had always kept the commands at home. Now however the son had drifted far from Judaism. He no longer kept the commandments. He did not even identify as a Jew. What should the father do? “Did you love him when he was religious?” asked Rav Kook. “Of course,” replied the father. “Well then,” Rav Kook replied, “Now love him even more.”

That is abundant love. That is good parenting.

Lord Sacks counsels, “It may be that Isaac loved Esau not blindly but with open eyes, knowing that there would be times when his elder son would give him grief, but knowing too that the moral responsibility of parenthood demands that we do not despair of or disown a wayward son.” As Sacks teaches, even if there are some failures, loving your children, whatever they become, is one, for surely that is how G-d loves us.”

That is abundant love. That is abundant blessing. That is meeting each child, each person where they are. That is good parenting.

So how do we parent today, if we learn from this story that encouraging sibling rivalry is not good. None of us try to play favorites. In the case of my husband, each one felt that they were the black sheep at some point.

One member said that he did it “with shock and awe,” a form of reverse psychology. When one of his kids would complain that he was favoring the other, he would simply say, “because I love (fill in the blank) more. Usually they would stomp away mad or just give him a confused look but they got it and then would laugh.

Yet, we are conditioned not to like Esau because after all, like good theater we KNOW that Jacob is the preferred one. Jacob is the one that is supposed to receive the covenant, the promise of G-d. Jacob is the one that is supposed to inherit. Jacob is the one who is supposed to carry on the covenant. And no less than G-d directly has told us that through the oracle that Rebecca consults.

So Rebecca comes up with the ruse. She doesn’t quite trust G-d enough. She takes matters into her own hands. She sends Esau out to hunt. Jacob presents himself to Isaac who with dim eyes believes that Jacob is Esau bringing him his beloved game. A pot of lentils. No steak in it at all. Isaac is tricked and gives Jacob Esau’s blessing.

Now most of you know that I love steak. My favorite meal is steak, baked potato and asparagus. Yet, when Simon and I got married, we each carried with us into this marriage a well worn cook book, the More with Less Cookbook, written by the Mennonites, a sister church to the Church of Bretheran, headquartered right here in Elgin. It tells us it is possible to have more with less, that by eating more whole grains, beans, lentils, there are enough resources to go around. So included in your weekly hand out is the More with Less Lentil Barley Soup recipe, tweaked by my friend Anne Schwartz. It will be perfect for you tomorrow on the snowy day they are predicting.

Lentils—good protein. Nutritious Cheap. But I am still not sure I would sell my birthright for a pot of lentils. Here is the recipe:

Lentil Barley Soup

2 cups red lentils
3/4 cup pearl barley
2 carrots, diced
1 large onion, chopped
2 stalks celery, diced
8 cups water or stock
1/2 tsp. oregano
1/2 tsp. cumin
1/4 tsp. black pepper
1/2 tsp. red pepper flakes (optional)
1 1/2 tsp. salt

Add all ingredients together in a soup pot, bring to boil and simmer one hour. Stir occasionally. The soup thickens as it cooks, so add water as needed to desired consistency.

Very hearty, thick soup… and it freezes well!
From the More with Less Cookbook and Anne Schwartz

Esau returns and is shocked that the blessing, his blessing has been given to Jacob. Isaac wonders what he is to do. He doesn’t think he can reverse his blessing to Jacob. He has already given it away. Never has it been done that way before. But Esau pleads. Then Isaac rises above his own understanding of tradition. And he crafts a new blessing, just for Esau.

“Behold, of the fat places of the earth you shall dwell, and of the dew of heaven from above;  And by your sword shall you live, and you shalt serve your brother…”

Last night we talked about blessings. In Hebrew, the word for blessing comes from the same word as knee, berech, because when we bless, we bend our knee. It is an acknowledgment that a blessing comes from G-d more so than it comes from us. It is more than a wish, precisely because it is connected to the Divine. In fact, our word daven, to pray in Yiddish, comes from the Latin for Divine. So what we are really doing is channeling G-d. A blessing is a gift from G-d.

The rabbis suggested that we say 100 blessings a day. Surely there are 100 things that we are grateful for each and every day. What we are doing, when we recite those blessings is to acknowledge that each of those is a gift from G-d, a blessing.

And because ultimately those blessings come from G-d, therefore there is enough blessing to go around. There is enough love to go around.

That is what this painful episode of Isaac and his sons Esau and Jacob comes to teach us. Isaac can love both. Isaac can bless both. There is abundant blessing. Abundant love. But we have to remember that there is enough to go around.

The blessing that Isaac creates for Esau is interesting. It begins the same way that Jacob’s begins, with the dew of the heavens. Rabbi Rachel Barenblat, the Velveteen Rabbi points out that “our tradition understands as a symbol of grace.” A blessing is a gift from G-d, like dew that falls from the heavens, G-d’s grace. Torah too is like dew for that reason. She adds, “Dew is the sustaining abundance that arises even in the desert, and grace is everyone’s birthright even when we’re in tough spiritual places. We too can receive Isaac’s blessing of dew: sustenance and nourishment for our tender places, kindness and wisdom to balm our sorrows and uplift our hearts.”

There is enough blessing to go around. There is enough love to go around. Even for us today.

We learn this from Rabbi Harold Kushner. One of the books he wrote after his iconic When Bad Things Happen to Good People is How Good Do We Have To Be. I reread this one every year. He contends that most of us have “a primal fear that our parents don’t have enough love for us all, and someone else may be getting a part of our share. Later in life when we are passed over for a promotion, when our doctor or our clergyman gets our name wrong, when someone pushes ahead of us in line, we may respond with a disproportionate sense of hurt because the experience reawakens within us childhood feelings that our parents may love someone else more than they love us.”

Yet what if that person your parents loved more, or so you thought, is your very own brother. And what if he thinks your parents loved you more and he is really, really angry and has threatened to kill you. Can you love him then?

Yesterday I had a unique opportunity, a blessing really, to participate in the dedication of new prayer space at Advocate Sherman. It was a brief ceremony where Christians, Jews, a Muslim and a Hindu all prayed. No one felt left out. The space is beautiful, right near the entrance, reminding all that faith and prayer can be an important part of healing. Doctors, nurses, hospital administrators, hospital chaplains, clergy from Elgin all participated. I read Psalm 30, a song for the dedication of the Temple, and taught that Chanukah means dedication. Perhaps the most poignant moment was seeing the Chief Medical Officer, Jewish, sitting next to a Muslim doctor on one side and a Hindu doctor on the other side.

There is enough love to go around. There is enough blessing to go around. But it wasn’t always this way. This very text has been used to teach that Christianity supplanted Judaism since it is the “younger brother” The book Elder and Younger Brothers: The Encounter of Jews and Christians by Eckardt and the work of the Vatican Council has done much to open up interfaith dialogue and re-establish the covenants of the “brothers”, Judaism and Christianity on equal footing. Nonetheless, the deep theological work that has been done has not always filtered down to lay people.

Precisely because there is enough love to go around. There is enough blessing, Now more than ever, it seems to me, we need dialogue, not isolation.

When I first applied to rabbinical school, a professor on the admissions committee asked me whether I thought there was a third covenant. I misunderstood the question and thought he was asking if there was some combined, third covenant which was outside of my ability to imagine at the time. That was not the question. He turned out to be Judaism’s leading scholar on Islam and he wanted to know how I regarded Muslims.

Later commentaries on this text give us a partial answer. G-d forbids the Israelites to wage war on Esau’s descendants, the Edomites.

“Give the people these orders: “You are about to pass through the territory of your brothers the descendants of Esau, who live in Seir. They will be afraid of you, but be very careful. Do not provoke them to war, for I will not give you any of their land, not even enough to put your foot on. I have given Esau the hill country of Seir as his own.” (Deut. 2:4-5)” And Moses commands the Israelites: “Do not abhor an Edomite [i.e. a descendant of Esau], for he is your brother.  (Deut. 23:8)”

So the event yesterday at Sherman was just perfect. We cannot hate an Edomite—for he is our brother. He is Esau. He is each of us. We are all created b’tzelem elohim, in the image of G-d.

Each of us have had times when we are Jacob, scheming, dreaming, climbing a ladder to reach what we think is ours. Sometimes two steps forward and one back, up and down trying to reach higher levels of holiness. Sometimes we are Rebecca, trying to make sure that our children inherit what is rightfully theirs, arguing, advocating, being a good Jewish mother. Sometimes we are Isaac, nearly blind, wanting to believe, enjoying our meal, and learning to break out of our preconceived notions, learning to think outside the box. And sometimes we are Esau. Cheated, mistreated.

Our tradition teaches us, “Hiney Ma Tov Umanaim Shevet Achim Gam Yachad. How good and how pleasant it is for brothers to dwell together.” (Psalms 133) Isaac and Ishmael. Jacob and Esau.

Today we are participating in something special, My d’var Torah and our Torah discussion are dedicated to the Academy for Jewish Religion, my seminary, which is celebrating its 60^th anniversary this year. There are now 193 alumni serving the entire spectrum of the Jewish community. Rabbis and cantors train together for positions in the Orthodox, Conservative, Reconstructionist, Reform, Renewal, Independent world. We are pulpit rabbis and cantors, educators, chaplains, university professors, and more. The slogan is “Ordaining rabbis and cantors for all Jewish communities.” And I stand here this morning proudly in my AJR Tallit since being an AJR rabbi is an especially good fit for this independent synagogue that prides itself on embracing diversity. We can talk more about this at Kiddush which the Kleins are sponsoring in honor of AJR’s anniversary.

Today’s Torah portion starts with a gap. In the last scene, Abraham returns to Beer Sheva after the near sacrifice of Isaac. Some other year we will explore more fully what happened on top of that mountain. Abraham returns to Beersheva.

But then it says, “These are the years of the life of Sarah. Sarah was 100 and 20 and 7 and Sarah died.” The portion is called Chayyei Sarah, the Life of Sarah. Not the death of Sarah, yet this portion starts with her death.

Here is the surprise. The gap in the text. And Abraham buries her in Kiryat Arba, not Beersheva. How does she get from Beer Sheva to Kiryat Arba? It is some 40 miles away. The text is silent. The commentaries are strangely silent. This gap then becomes ripe for midrash. Stories about the text the fill in the holes. Again the classical midrash are strangely silent. We will come back to that gap.

This text starts with her obituary. Sarah was one hundred years and twenty years and seven years. The rabbis do ask the question, why the repetition of the word “years.” It could say Sarah was 127 years old. It must come to teach us something because there are no extra words in the Torah. They decide that when she was twenty she was as beautiful as she was at seven, and at 100 she was as blameless, without sin as she was at 20. (Bereshit Rabbah 58:1)

Let’s think about that for a moment. How would you like your own obituary to read? That you are beautiful? Sinless? Something else? It is a really important question. Some people even do this as a writing exercise which we won’t do here today but I encourage you to go home and try. Meanwhile, what would yours say? A discussion ensued and it included things like, “She was kind.” “A good parent” “A good sense of humor.” “Overcame much” “Determined” “Worked hard.” “A good provider.” “A family man.”

We noted that there were no material things on the list. Nothing like an old t-shirt of my husband’s that said, “He who dies with the most fonts wins.” Coming off of Thanksgiving, we were grateful for much.

We learn important things from this text. “Abraham came to Kiryat Araba, now Hebron to cry and to eulogize.” So we know that it is OK to cry at a funeral. In my family, we were pretty straight laced, and crying didn’t come easily. It wasn’t really allowed. I sang in the temple choir and we did a production of Free to Be You and Me. One song was “It’s alright to cry.” That song was a revelation to me. But then my father died. I did a eulogy, struggled to control my emotions, could barely see the words on the page and sat back down next to my mother who said, “But you didn’t cry.” So cry. It’s all right. The Bible says so. Marlo Thomas says so. Even my mother says so.

We learn that it is important to tell stories about the deceased. To give a eulogy.

How do we do this? Abraham is our model for this as well. It is said that his eulogy of Sarah was the passage we know as Eishet Chayil, A Woman of Valor. Usually we subscribe the writing of Proverbs to Solomon.

A woman of valor–seek her out, for she is to be valued above rubies.(or pearls)
Her husband trusts her, and they cannot fail to prosper.
All the days of her life she is good to him.
She opens her hands to those in need and offers her help to the poor.
Adorned with strength and dignity, she looks to the future with cheerful trust.
Her speech is wise, and the law of kindness is on her lips.
Her children rise up to call her blessed, her husband likewise praises her:
“Many women have done well, but you surpass them all.’
Grace is deceitful and beauty vain, but a woman loyal to God has truly earned praise.
Give her honor for her work; her life proclaims her praise.

This is Sarah’s life. She follows Abraham to Canaan. She follows him again to Egypt where he describes her as beautiful. She is barren and comes up with a solution. She rushes to feed her guests and gives a portion to her maidens. She laughs when she is told she will have a baby even though she is so old. This is a pretty good eulogy for Sarah. So tell the stories. Use Eishet Chayil as a base. Don’t be too grandiose or too belittling. Your words, however, should make the mourners cry, because that is part of the healing process.

From this portion we also learn that Abraham buries his dead. He sought out a cave and purchased it from the men of the town. The men offer to give him the choicest place and he says that he will pay for it. 400 shekels. The first land contract, if you will. And that is important. It is one of the clear indications that Israel has a claim to the land. Abraham purchased it. It was not a gift.

But we still have a problem in our text. Why did Sarah die and why is she in Kiryat Arba?

The rabbis teach that she died from grief. From shock. One midrash has it she didn’t even hear the whole story, just that he was taken to the mountain. Another has it as joy and relief that he was spared. It is a direct response to learning about the Akedah, the binding of Isaac. Now I am not sure whether that is grief or fear but imagine having your son, the one you have waited for you entire life, the one you believe G-d promised you, taken away and almost sacrificed. What emotions would you have? Anger, fear, confusion, grief, relief might all be included.

There is one more gap that we have to wrestle with. The text is again silent. What happens to Isaac? The text tells us: “Abraham then returned to his servant lads; they got up and traveled to Be’er Sheva, and Abraham settled in Be’er Sheva.” Is Isaac there? Generations of rabbis, commentators of all religions, scholars have tried to figure that out.

Later in today’s parsha we get some of that answer. Abraham arranges for a wife for Isaac. When Rebecca arrives Isaac is meditating in the field, whatever that verb means. He raises his eyes and sees her. She alights from her camel. They go to Sarah’s tent and he loves her—the first mention of love in the Bible—and he is comforted from his mother’s death

It seems that Abraham didn’t ask Sarah before he took Isaac to Mount Moriah. Or maybe as one midrash suggests, he said he was taking Isaac to a yeshivah. (Pirke d’Rabbe Eliezar 31) Or worse, as some of the midrashim written during the Crusades suggest, that Isaac actually died on Mount Moriah. This story became the model of Kiddush HaShem, Sanctification of the Name, where Jewish parents were forced to kill their own children or have them forcibly converted. Others see the very text as a polemic against child sacrifice. But neither answers the question, where is Isaac. Where is Sarah? Either way, as a mother, I would not be happy. I do not think I could live with that grief.

My colleague Rabbi Jonathan Kligler at the Woodstock Jewish Congregation in Vermont has a modern interpretation that resonates with me. When he first meets Rebecca the text says, “Now Isaac was coming from the direction of Be’er Lachai Roi, for he was living in the Negev”. That’s odd. That’s where Hagar ran away to when Sarah was mistreating her. And at that very spring, that is where Hagar first names G-d, “El Ro’I, the G-d that sees me.” This is the spring that Hagar and Ishmael return to one when Abraham at Sarah’s command banish them to the wilderness. And this, we now learn is where Isaac is living after the Akedah. Kligler says that it means that Isaac and Ishmael loved each other. That Isaac’s heart was broken when Hagar and Ishmael were banished. Ishmael was his brother. Hagar a second mother. He wanted to make his family whole again. At some levels every family is broken and in need of that wholeness. In his midrash, Isaac is doing teshuvah with Ishmael, the hard work of repair and reconciliation that we talk about at the High Holidays but is accessible to us year round.

It is an interesting read. We know that they did reconcile. The two of them return to Kiryat Arba to bury their father Abraham together. That gives us hope. That Isaac and Ishmael can come back together. And then Isaac settles in Ber Lachai Ro’I, the place where we are really seen, where we are known for who we really are, where we know that we are all children of the Divine, created in the Divine image and loved by a Divine love, a love that heals, and blesses and makes whole.

Unfortunately, that knowledge comes too late for some. We are told that the years of the life of Sarah were one hundred and twenty and seven. And Sarah died. Compared to her husband Abraham, this is a premature death.

So here is my midrash

And they went down the
Mountain
together.

Both Abraham and Isaac

And together they returned

To Beersheva.

How could she have stayed
When she learned what Abraham had done,
When she learned how G-d had tested Abraham
how nearly she had lost her son, her only the son, the one she loved
How nearly she had lost Isaac,
The one that G-d had promised to her.

And when Sarah learned all this,
She ran away.
What G-d could, would demand this of her, of any mother?
In fact, never even asked her,
Just told Abraham to take their son
To a mountain G-d would show
Take him and offer him as a sacrifice
Like a ram.
She could imagine Isaac’s fear
When he saw the knife poised in Abraham’s hand
And he realized he was to be the ram.
And Abraham, her husband, he was no better than G-d,
Maybe even worse.
He did it without questioning,
Without wondering why
Without asking G-d
Without consulting Sarah.

And so she fled.
She would go home
To where her family was
Where everything was familiar,
The land, the people, the gods
Not like this strange land that Abraham had brought her to,
Like this strange G-d who demands everything,
Even her son.

And on her way Sarah died in Kiryat Arba,
Now Hebron,
Even though the text does not tell us why here
We can imagine Sarah’s suffering
At the disintegration of her family

And the years of Sarah’s life were
One hundred and twenty and seven
And Abraham and Isaac came to Hebron
To mourn her.

The challenge for any rabbi, any teacher really, is take old stories, and find something new to teach. When you find that moment of insight, of clarity, it is wonderful. It is that aha moment. That light bulb. This portion is one of those portions. There is so much in it and we know the stories so well. But we read them every year to plumb their depths. To go deeper. To have that aha moment.

Abraham is sitting at the opening of his tent at the heat of the day. Not like today which began with snow here in Elgin. He is recovering. He is hurting. This is right after his circumcision.

From this we learn that even G-d, in the guise of a messenger, an angel comes to visit Abraham when he is sick, recovering from his circumcision. We therefore, in striving to be like G-d, have an obligation to visit the sick.

He looks up and he sees three men approaching. He warmly welcomes them. And races to serve them together with his wife Sarah.

From this we learn the importance of audacious hospitality. Serve everyone. Because some of your guests may be angels, messengers.

From this we learn that each messenger only has one job to do. A discreet task. Do one job and do it well. One came to visit the sick—Abraham after the circumcision. One came to announce the conception and birth of Isaac and one is sent to warn Sodom and Gemorah.

From this we learn, we too should find one thing to do and do it well. Find one thing you are concerned about and concentrate on that. Focus. Gather your energy. Work on it passionately. Frederick Buechner says that the place that G-d calls us “is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” Find that place.

From this portion we learn that G-d shades the truth in order to be kind. Sarah laughs when she find out she will have a child. “Really,” she asks, when I and my husband are so old?” When G-d repeats this story to Abraham, G-d omits the part about Abraham being too old. We learn that anything is possible with G-d. We also learn a way of communicating. Is it necessary? Is it truthful? Is it kind? If it is not all three we don’t have to say it. In fact, using G-d as our model, we shouldn’t say it.

And all of this is just in the first chapter of our portion this morning.

What I really want to teach is about Abraham arguing with G-d. How many of you have ever been angry, really, really angry with G-d? It is OK. We learn this from Abraham. What we also need to learn is how to channel that anger and use it constructively.

We know that Noah was a righteous man in his generation but that Abraham was a righteous man for all the generations. He wasn’t perfect and that shows up later in our story. But right here, right now, he has the audacity to argue with G-d.

My father’s definition of a Jew is something who questions, thinks and argues. That starts right here. Abraham is passionate about arguing for the safety of Sodom and Gemorah. He negotiates with G-d. If there are 50 righteous people, will you destroy the cities? What about 40? Twenty? What about 10? If there are 10 righteous people will You still destroy the city?

Abraham is not the only person who argues with G-d.

Moses argued with G-d after the sin of the Golden Calf. He had the audacity to challenge G-d and remind G-d that these were G-d’s people, and if G-d destroyed them, what would the Egyptians think. Yep, the old “what will the neighbors say” argument. And it worked.

Like Abraham, Moses was a righteous person.

Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev did. He challenged G-d to a law suit one Rosh Hashanah, to an actual beit din, court of Jewish law, where he put G-d on trial. He argued that G-d had no right to prolong the Jewish people’s exile from the land of Israel when other more sinful nations lived in peace:

“I do not know how to ask You, Lord of the world, and even if I did know, I could not bear to do it. How could I venture to ask You why everything happens as it does, why we are driven from one exile into another, why our foes are allowed to torment us so. But in the Hagadah, the parent of the “one who does not yet know how to ask” is told “it is incumbent upon You to disclose it to the child.” And Lord of the world, am I not Your child? I do not ask You to reveal to me the secret of Your ways—I could not stand it! But show me one thing, show me what this very moment means to me, what it demands of me, what You G-d are telling me through my life at this moment. I do not ask You to tell me why I suffer, but only whether I suffer for your sake.”

Like Abraham, Levi Yitzchak was a righteous person.

Eli Wiesel uses this for his basis of “The Trial of G-d” in which he describes a scene he witnessed as a teenager in the concentration camps. Three sages put G-d on trial for the Holocaust and found G-d guilty. After announcing their guilty verdict, they announced that it was time for mincha, the afternoon prayers.

Like Abraham, Eli Wiesel was a righteous person.

From this, we have learned that my father was right. It is OK for Jews to argue. Even to argue with G-d.

But we learn more.

From this we learn that we need 10 adult Jews to make a minyan, for a community. This summer when we drove through Nebraska, we drove through a town with 14 residents. I don’t think I could live there. Too small. Way too small. I’m not sure what that magic number is, but 14 is too small.

Based on this very portion, in traditional Jewish law a minyan, a community, is a minimum of 10 adult Jewish men. Over the age of 13. You need 10 for a full service, To say Barchu, To chant the Amidah outloud. To recite Kaddish. To read Torah.

Today, and for decades, this congregation has counted women as full members of the kahal, of the congregation. If we have 10 Jews present at a service, male or female, we do all the parts. Yet at least once a year a visitor will ask if we are counting women. I have developed a stock answer, which is that we do count women and not just because I am a rabbi who happens to be a woman, but if you only count men I am sure there will be enough. Occasionally, since we embrace diversity, we will have a member who only is comfortable counting men for a shiva minyan or something and again we make sure that happens.

But what if the number is not 10? I am not talking about the tradition of counting the Torah as the 10^th a younger child holding a chumash. What if we look at this teaching from Pirke Avot,

“Rabbi Chalafta the son of Dosa of the village of Chanania would say: Ten who sit together and occupy themselves with Torah, the Divine Presence rests amongst them, as is stated: “The Almighty stands in the congregation of G‑d” (Psalms 82:1). And from where do we know that such is also the case with five? From the verse, “He established His band on earth” (Amos 9:6). And three? From the verse, “He renders judgment in the midst of the tribunal” (Psalms 82:1). And two? From the verse, “Then the G‑d-fearing conversed with one another, and G‑d listened and heard” (Malachi 3:16). And from where do we know that such is the case even with a single individual? From the verse, “Every place where I have My name mentioned, I shall come to you and bless you” (Exodus 20:21). (Pirke Avot 2:6)

Noel Paul Stookey, the Paul of Peter, Paul and Mary, seems to draw on this verse for his Wedding Song,

“For whenever two or more of you are gathered in his name. There is love. There is love.” Love is another name for G-d.

And it is in this very parsha that the word love, ahava first appears in the Torah. At another moment, when you might think Abraham would argue with G-d, he seems to be silent. “Take your son, your only son, the one you love, take Isaac…” The one you love. Asher ahavta. Jews, Muslims, and Christians have argued about this passage, just 19 verses for millennium. I am still reading the book, But Where is the Lamb. Does it show Abraham’s obedience to G-d? His unconditional love for G-d? What kind of G-d would make such a horrific demand? What kind of father would comply? The midrash argues that Abraham DID question G-d. It is a dialogue. Take your son. But I have two sons. Take your only son. But they are each the only son of their mother. Take the one you love. But I love them both. Take Isaac.

My colleague, Rabbi Tom Samuels taught this weekend in the name of Rabbi Kula, “There’s madness in imagining what we would be willing to give in order to finally and unambiguously prove our love. And there is madness in imaging what we would need in order to clearly and unequivocally know that we are loved.” Samuels continues to ask the hard questions, “Are we all not similar, at least in some ways, to both Abraham and to God, in our own relationships? In our own need to both prove our love to someone else, as well as to assure ourselves of someone else’s love for us? Rabbi Kula continues that ultimately, our basic human condition requires of us to “embrace the fear that we may burn-up in our giving and in our receiving of love.” In the end of the Biblical story, Abraham and God come to their senses. They figure out a compromise, a solution, to save both Isaac’s life as well as their sense of selves. With this in mind, let us work towards finding that ever-elusive balance that straddles being both the giver and the receiver of love.” This is Kula’s and Samuel’s chidush.

This is about relationships. G-d’s to Abraham. Abraham to G-d. Abraham to Lot. G-d’s to the earth. Us with G-d. Rabbi Michael Rothbaum argues about Abraham arguing with the “no less than the Throne of G-d,” that G-d must not slaughter the guilty if innocent are present.” Rothbaum points out that Abraham’s argument is as relevant today as it was then. And the argument is preceded by a speech by G-d, “a speech both to nobody and directly to us, a soliloquy sent on the wind to spread seeds of justice throughout time. “Should I hide from Abraham what I’m going to do” to Sodom and Gomorah, God asks. But — yadativ. “I know him. I’ve built a relationship with him.” And why him? “For the purpose of obligating his children and his household to keep the path of God.” Derech HaShem. The path of God. And what is the path of God? La’asot tzedakah umishpat. To do justice. To make righteousness. The purpose of Abraham’s existence, of Jewish existence? According to God, in the Torah, it’s la’asot tzedakah umishpat. To make justice and righteousness.” This is Rothbaum’s chidush, his new teaching.

Rabbi Heidi Hoover offers this new teaching:

“One of the interpretations of why Abraham doesn’t argue about the Akeidah is that he trusts God that God will somehow take care of Isaac. But how did Abraham develop that trust? If you read the Sodom and Gomorrah conversation as being not Abraham challenging God and demanding that God live up to a standard of justice, but Abraham being shaken and disturbed at the thought of all that destruction, and asking questions to understand God’s intention and what justice is for this God. God reassures Abraham that even a tiny minority of innocent people would be saved, even though it would leave a much huger number of wicked people alive. In my reading, God would have done this anyway, and is not agreeing to requests from Abraham, but giving Abraham information about God’s intention. So Abraham learns about what God means by “justice” in that conversation, and that God will go to great lengths to save the innocent. That’s what develops the trust that allows him to follow God’s command re: Isaac. Knowing Isaac is innocent, he knows God will somehow save Isaac.” This is Hoover’s chidush.

From this portion we learn one more thing. At least. Here Is my chidush. Abraham argued to save Sodom and Gemorah just because they were human beings. They were not Israelites. They were not Jews. They were human beings created in the image of G-d. Abraham was arguing not to protect his own self-interests. He was arguing to save the guilty and the innocent. Everyone. Every body.

So what do you do on a cold winter’s night for Kabbalat Shabbat, Friday night services when you have eight adult Jews and two pastors? One of those pastors had recently lost his wife and he came because he wanted to say Kaddish, to experience Kaddish? I knew them personally and knew them to be righteous. What I did was teach the Pirke Avot text I just shared and talked about the Abraham arguing to save Sodom and Gemorrah for everyone. Then we said Kaddish. That was the chidush, the new teaching.

Recently a congregant approached me. He had been asked to give a talk at his wife’s church on his faith journey and he was perplexed. “Jews don’t have faith journeys,” he told me.

We met for lunch and I helped him prepare his speech. I love this kind of thing. It is one of the best parts of my job. Helping people understand that they are on a journey.

We are talking about this this morning because we are about to read about Abraham. Abraham was on a journey.

“Now the Lord said to Avram: “Go. Go forth. Get out of your country and from the land of your birth and from your father’s house, to the land that I will show you. And I will make you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great and you will be a blessing. And I will bless those that bless you and I will curse those that curse you. All through you all the families of the earth will be blessed.” (Genesis 12:1-3)

It seems to start in the middle of the story. Who is this Abraham? Where did he come from? Why him? Why now? Those are questions worth thinking about.

Abraham is a universal figure, sacred to Jews, Christians and Muslims. I still love Bruce Feiler’s book, Abraham: A Journey to the Heart of Three Faiths. And a new one to me, referenced on the High Holidays, and loaned to me by a congregant, But where is the lamb, about another journey Abraham was on later. I encourage all of you to read that one.

Abraham is not a perfect figure, none of us are. Twice he goes down to Egypt. Twice he pretends that Sarah is his sister, not his wife, putting her at risk. We read one of those incidents today. His relationship with Hagar is, shall we say, interesting. And then there is his relationship with his sons, one he sends out in the desert with only a days worth of bread and water. One he takes to the top of a mountain and almost sacrifices. It is all part of his journey.

Nonetheless, he gave birth to something greater than he. He was the first person to recognize that there is only one G-d. In every middle school history book in America, we learn that Abraham is the father of monotheism. Most Jewish kids hearts’ swell with pride.

The start of that journey wasn’t easy. Let’s look at those three phrases:

Lech lecha. Go forth. Leave. Go to yourself. Perhaps the first “find yourself moment”.
Me’artzecha, From your land, your country.
Me’modeleta, from the place of your birth.
Me beit avicha, from the house of your father. From your family. From everything you know.

Concentric circles. Think about that for you personally. Leave everything you know behind. What would you need to leave behind? In increasingly difficult circles.

This journey is actually backwards from a normal journey. Usually first you leave your house, then your city, then your country. It is hardest to leave your own family. It is one of the Erik Erikson stages of psychological development. You have to be able to differentiate from your parents. You have to become independent.

To a land that I will show you. Yep. You don’t even know where you are going. You’ll know it when you get there. How does he even pack for this kind of jounrey? This is not quite like leaving for college—although that has some of these elements. This is a deeper leaving. A deeper person. Abraham is becoming “self actualized..” This then is the deeper meaning of the words “your land, your birthplace, your father’s house.”

But we can go still deeper. We can dig the wells of the words of Torah still deeper. We learn from the Chassidic commentators that Eretz, the Hebrew word for land, is related to the Hebrew word, ratzon, will and desire. So this is about leaving your natural desires and rising above them. Your birthplace, moledtecha, is about leaving home and the security. Beit Avicha, your father’s house is about being a mature person with transcendent intellect. In the Kabbalah, the intellect is from the “father within man” and rules over feelings and behavior. Being able to master these three areas leads to the pinnacle of achievement, the top of Maslow’s pyramid.

But still higher, off the charts, is a higher self. The highest self. The spark of the Divine, the core of our soul, that G-d breathes into us. That is what G-d wanted to show Abraham. That is the land, the eretz that G-d will show Abraham.

When we look at this deeply, the order now makes sense. When we go through this journey, step by step, then G-d will bless us and make our name great.

Not everyone is on the same journey. Not everyone has the same experience of G-d. And that is OK. We even talk about it in the amidah itself. In the Avot prayer we say, “v’elohei Avraham, v’elohei Yitzchak, v’elohei Ya’akov, the G-d of Abraham, and the G-d of Isaac and the G-d of Jacob. Of course, I add the matriarchs too. English professors want to take a pen to this. Why the extra words? We could just say, “And the G-d of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.” The rabbis teach because each of them, each of us have a different experience, a different understanding of the one G-d.

We are all on a journey. I invite you to think about yours as you listen to one person’s personal journey.

Then we sang Debbie Friedman’s song, “Lechi Lach”:

Lechi Lach
L’chi lach, to a land that I will show you
Lech l’cha, to a place you do not know
L’chi lach, on your journey I will bless you

And (you shall be a blessing) l’chi lach
And (you shall be a blessing) l’chi lach
And (you shall be a blessing) l’chi lach

L’chi lach, and I shall make your name great
Lech l’cha, and all shall praise your name
L’chi lach, to the place that I will show you

l’chi lach
(L’sim-chat cha-yim) l’chi lach
(L’sim-chat cha-yim) l’chi lach

That’s it. The journey is what brings us joy.

I am out of words but I won’t be silent. (On poster board, held up phrase by phrase).

This is the way a YouTube video clip by Alex Bryant https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3JAx99g9P74 began this summer. It went on to say…

Who am I?
Who are we?
Whose side am I on?
The police or the people? Black or white?
Do we have to pick a side?
Both sides have made mistakes.
But the fact remains we are all Americans.
We are all G-d’s children.
We each have each other

Perfect questions for this Kol Nidre. We are all God’s children. Or as we might say, we are all created b’tzelem elohim, in the image of G-d. The challenge is to find that divine spark. Sometimes it is easier than other times.

Show Upstander Cup from Starbucks.

I won’t be silent because our words matter.
Our words matter because we are a people full of words.
Words can hurt or heal. We need to use our words to heal. To bring this fractured world together.

We just chanted the haunting melody of Kol Nidre. All vows. All promises. Are forgiven. From this day until next Yom Kippur. Or from last Yom Kippur until now. Our words matter. Either way. Either translation of those tenses, our words matter.

What is the power of those words? What is the power of my words….

Our words matter. Yet I am out of words. Sometimes the power of Kol Nidre is in the very music itself. Not in the words of this contract.

65% of the sins we will confess with the Al Chet prayer have to do with speech. It is easy to say, “Guard your tongue.” It is another thing to do so. Every week when we read A Woman of Valor, I have done most of the checklist. Every week I feel I have failed at “She opens her mouth with wisdom and the law of kindness is on her tongue.” Just ask my husband about getting ready for guests for Passover at our house. I am not always easy to live with.

I told this story at Selichot and again in Hebrew School this week. Once there were two women gossiping. They went to the rabbi to complain about the other. He, it is always a he, directed them to take a feather pillow into the market place and cut it open and scatter the feather and then return. They did as they were told. They returned to the rabbi. He directed them to go back and collect all the feathers. But that is impossible. So it is with words. Once they are out, they can never be recaptured.

Sometimes it seems impossible to have the law of kindness on my tongue. Sometimes then it is useful to have a structure, a set of rules to make difficult conversations productive and not turn them into screaming matches. This summer I attended a NewCAJE, a professional development conference for Jewish educators, together with Heather and Earl.

My all day Sunday session was on how to have conversations about Israel. At the very beginning, they handed out rules for dialogue from the Hartford Seminary, Building Abrahamic Partnerships:

1. We agree to listen in a way that promotes understanding, rather than listen with the goal of countering what we hear.
2. We agree to listen for strengths so as to affirm and learn, rather than listening for weaknesses so as to discount and devalue.
3. We agree to speak for ourselves from our own understanding and experiences, rather than speak based on our assumptions about others’ positions and motives.
4. We agree to ask questions to increase understanding, rather than asking questions to trip up or to confuse.
5. We agree to allow others to complete their communications, rather than interrupting or changing the topic.
6. We agree to keep our remarks as brief as possible and invite the quieter, less vocal participants in the conversation to speak.
7. We agree to concentrate on others’ words and feelings, rather than focusing on the next point we want to make.
8. We agree to accept others’ experiences as real and valid for them, rather than critiquing their experiences as distorted or invalid.
9. We agree to allow the expression of real feelings (in ourselves and in others) for understanding and catharsis, rather than expressing our feelings to manipulate others and deny that their feelings are legitimate.
10. We agree to honor silence, rather than using silence to gain advantage.

These rules work—whether we are in a classroom, a synagogue board meeting, a parking lot meeting, or building bridges in the wider community. They work, whether we are talking to our spouse, our friends, our neighbor, an employee, a boss. Whether it is a conversation with someone we love or someone we don’t know well or even mistrust. Whether it is Cubs fans and Sox fans, Michigan and Ohio State. Democrats or Republicans. Whether you agree with me personally or not. Here at CKI we strive to create a safe, non-judgmental space.

Once there was a man who left his country under a load of hay with his bride.
Once there was a man who was about to be conscripted. He took someone else’s name and fled the country. This is not the tale of a recent refuge, but it could be.

It is the tale of the original Simon Klein, the one Simon is named for. The one who founded Klein and Mandel Brothers on State Street, that became Mandel Brothers. The one who founded Chicago Sinai. His rabbi, Rabbi Emil Hirsch, who actually used to take a stage coach out from Chicago to help start this very synagogue, was famous for making his congregants uncomfortable.

Hirsch said about the role of the rabbi: “The world waits once more the prophet, would once more hear the word of a nobler view of life than gain and profit and greed…We need once more to feel that humanity is more than a pack of wolves fighting for the carcass by wayside. We need once more the stern sacramental words of duty and obligation, of righteousness and justice. Justice, mark you, not charity…justice we need. Social justice everywhere.” Imagine being an industrial mogul and hearing these words from the rabble rousing rabbi: “Sweatshops are an expedient of hell….your duty is stamp out this barbarous system.“

I stand before you tonight with nothing left to say. With my heart breaking.

I stand before you tonight, like Jonah, an unwilling prophet. Like Isaiah who had a vision of a world redeemed. Like Rabbi Emil Hirsch.

In the Hagaddah that Simon, my Simon compiled, he includes the quote we use every year…for decades…

First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

Rev. Martin Niemoller

So on a night when we talk about speech I am pained that maybe I didn’t speak out enough. How do I live with that?

On Yom Kippur, Yom Hakippurim, as it is called in Hebrew, we learn from the rabbis is a day like Purim. Yom, Day, Ha, the, ki, like or as, Purim. How is that possible? Partly because Esther fasts and repents, she puts on sack cloth and ashes and tears her clothes. But maybe more because after some persuasion of Mordechai, she finds her voice. Mordechai tells her that she has to speak up and save her people:

“Do not think that you will escape in the king’s house more than all the Jews. Because if you hold your peace at this time, then relief and deliverance will arise for the Jews from another place…who knows, perhaps you are in this place for such a time as this.”

This congregation, and me as your leader did speak out:

• What if….we had remained silent and we didn’t speak up when widows, orphans and strangers need to welcomed, fed, housed, treated fairly as the Torah tells us 36 times.
• What if…we had remained silent and we didn’t speak up when children were bullied or women were abused
• What if….we had remained silent and we didn’t speak up when people denied the Holocaust.
• What if…we had remained silent and we didn’t speak up when people were massacred in a nightclub in Orlando
• What if…we had remained silent and we didn’t speak up about mass incarceration or systemic racism
• What if…we had remained silent and didn’t speak up when the Black Lives Matter organizers added BDS to their platform
• What if …we had remained silent and we didn’t speak up when people at school board meetings think that this is a Christian nation and that there is only one interpretation of scripture.
• What if we had remained silent and we didn’t speak up about sexual assault and the fact that 1 in 4 women in this country will be assaulted in her lifetime.
• What if….we had remained silent and we didn’t speak up when the Nazi flag appeared at the Kane County Flea Market
• What if….we had remained silent we didn’t speak up when Confederate flags appeared in my neighborhood of South Elgin

What if none of this matters? But it does.

In each of these cases, we followed the path of Esther. We built strong coalitions to work on each topic. We are not alone. Let’s just look at one example. The case of the Nazi flag.

The beginning of the story sounds like a joke. “A rabbi, a priest and a minister walk into a flea market.” But this is not a joke. It is all too real. And every one showed up. On 4^th of July Weekend. On Independence Day The power of their speech brings hope not hatred.

Let me set the stage. On July 3^rd, just after writing about Eli Wiesel’s death and his legacy for Elgin. I was called because a Nazi flag had appeared in Kane County. “Do something!” the caller urged. So I did. I contacted the business by email and requested, firmly and calmly the removal of the flag. It was. Maybe that should be the end of the story. But it is not.

I wrote to the Coalition of Elgin Religious Leaders, our police department and our elected officials. And to the Anti-Defamation League and the Southern Poverty Law Center. That is protocol. Well established protocol both here developed by our safety and security committee and nationally. The people selling the flag have every right to display the flag and sell the flag. That is law. Guaranteed by their first amendment rights.

This is actually the beginning of the story. And it is what makes Elgin great. A Lutheran pastor wrote an impassioned letter. An Episcopal priest showed up at my house and held my hand while we painstakingly researched white supremacists in Kane County. The Catholic chaplain called his friend at the Kane County Fairgrounds, the landlord. A Muslim leader who spoke at our recent vigil for the victims of Orlando sent a simple note, “Repression, Suppression and Oppression can’t be tolerated. May God give guidance to those who are misguided.” A Brethren pastor showed up with raspberry pie and the message delivered with tears in her eyes, that she would lay down her life to protect me and my congregants.

Our Resident Police officer told me, he was already aware and had stepped up patrols. Our mayor and his wife contacted me. Our elected officials, and their staff workers, all reached out.

Keep in mind, this was in a very short time period, less than 24 hours, over a holiday weekend, filled with parades, picnics, barbecues, fireworks, family time. Celebrating this great nation. No one needed to do so because it was in a job description. They did it because it is the right thing to do. Each one played a vital and important role.

The next day was the parade. That a synagogue can walk in the Elgin Fourth of July parade and not worry about safety. Together with a Lao temple, a Hispanic horse troupe, a Unitarian Church, the Boy Scouts, the YWCA, the Boys and Girls Club, high school marching bands. The Democrats and the Republicans running for office. The Fox Valley Citizens for Peace and Justice. 12,000 in the parade. 12,000 watching. As diverse a crowd as you can imagine, reflecting the diversity of Elgin and what is great about this nation.

I wish the story ended there.

Unfortunately, the story doesn’t quite end there either. There is much work still to be done, as a quick glance at Facebook and social media will tell you. This flag was not just war memorabilia being sold but something more sinister if you scratched the surface. There is no doubt that the purveyor is a white supremacist. There is no doubt that recent events in this country have unleashed unparalleled fear and hatred.

We need to continue building bridges. To continue combating hate. In all its forms. Wherever it is. Be it social media or the news media. Or the political arena. We need to speak out wherever there is hate speech. Whether it is a from a political candidate a local business or your neighbor. Whether it is against Jews, Muslims, Blacks, Hispanics, the LGBTQ community. We need to conquer fear with love. Fear with hope. This is the legacy of Eli Wiesel. He said,

“The opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it’s indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it’s indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it’s indifference.”

Pirke Avot teaches us,“Lo alecha hamlacha ligmor, v’lo ata bein horin libatel mimena” One is not obligated to finish a task, but one is not free to ignore it” (Pirke Avot 2:21)

There is still plenty of work to do.

When I was struggling to find my voice, like Esther struggled to find hers, I reached out to other rabbis to see what they were planning to say. Many were facing the same struggle. The Chicago Board of Rabbis even had an extra sermon seminar to deal with this. One rabbi, Rabbi David Steinberg, helped me find my voice. He pointed out that the Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur versions of the Amidah some additions. One of those additions is:

“Then will the righteous see and be glad, the upright rejoice, and the pious celebrate in song. For the mouth of injustice shall be shut, and all evil will vanish like smoke — when you remove the dominion of arrogance from the earth.”

This prayer will be my focus for the next 25 hours because it would be arrogant to think that because we have spoken out against injustice the work is done. There is a great deal of work still to be done to heal ourselves, to heal our country and to heal our world, from racism, from anti-semitism, from fear and hatred.

My vow this Yom Kippur is to find the courage to be like Esther. To build bridges. To build hope. To be that Upstander. To not stand idly by while our neighbor bleeds. To use my speech for good.

There is one more way where you opinion counts. At the voting booth. I had threatened to give the shortest High Holiday sermon on record. My directive remains the same. We have an obligation to vote. Go vote.

The Youtube clips ends here:

Now is our time
Our lives are connected
Who are we?
Who are we becoming?
The truth is it is not black or white.
It is dark versus light.
The dark side:
Fear leads to anger.
It doesn’t have to be this way.
Love leads to forgiveness.
Let’s start again.
For us.

That is what Yom Kippur is about. Starting over. Reconciliation. Renewal. Hope. Love. That is what the power of speech can do. That is what finding your voice can do.

Gmar chatimah tovah. May the words of our mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to You. May the power of our speech allow us to combat injustice everywhere. And may our words be as light and gentle as a feather.

Tonight there is a service of healing and meditation that was planned before the election to be held regardless of the results at the First Congregational Church in Elgin, 256 Chicago Street at 7PM. I had planned to be there whatever the results. As the Rev. Paris Donohoo stated there are great divides in this country. He is hopeful that this will become a monthly series, with each church (and my synagogue) taking a month. I welcome that challenge.

Last week I was at a conference on Jewish leadership. We studied Jewish texts, Bible, Talmud, codes. We talked about our own leadership styles and the challenges that face us in our own leadership. More on that shortly. But in journalism class we learned to lead with the most important.

Yesterday my phone started ringing at 6:45AM. Even for me, an early bird, that is an early hour to be on the phone. Especially after a late night. Calls like that continued throughout the day. Some sad. Some fearful. Some happy. I wondered what I would say to the Hebrew School kids.

Here is a synopsis of what I shared with my Hebrew School students yesterday.

Today is Kristalnacht, the beginning of the Holocaust 78 years ago. So we are lighting a candle to remember. And to hope. And to work for a day where it will never happen anywhere. To anybody. Today is also the day after the election. Some of your parents voted for Clinton. Some of them voted for Trump. Some voted for someone else. Some may not have voted at all. Today that doesn’t matter. What matters is this. As Jews we are told to improve the world around us, to work for tikkun olam, repair or fixing of the world. We are told that we are all created “b’tzelem elohim”, in the image of G-d. That means the Trump supporter and the Clinton supporter and even the one who didn’t vote. We are told—you just sang it—that we have a covenant with G-d, a brit. G-d made a promise to Noah to never destroy the world again with a flood. The rainbow is the sign of that covenant. G-d made a covenant with Abraham to make him as numerous as the stars in the sky and the sands of the sea. G-d made a covenant, a brit with the people of Israel and Shabbat is the sign of that covenant. With a covenant comes a responsibility. We have to do something in return. What we have to do is be responsible for one another. As adults—rabbis, teachers, the police officer who was just here—we have a responsibility to protect you. Many of you have told me that you have been picked on in school because you are Jewish. That is never OK. Continue to tell us if that happens again. You have another responsibility too. You have to take care of your parents. It is a very special task for tonight. Many of your parents stayed up very late into the night. They are tired. They maybe cranky. They may be sleepy. Talk to them in the car on the way home so they don’t fall asleep! (there was some laughter at that one, and that was good)

So this candle is the sign of our covenant with you. That sign of remembrance and hope.

Then we sang Hiney Ma Tov. “How good and how pleasant it is for people to dwell together.” That is our hope. That is what matters.

Back to leadership. I spent time with my study partner, Rabbi Linda Shriner Cahn and our dear friend Rabbi Eliana Falk, looking at the first two chapters of Genesis. In the beginning G-d began to create. That’s leadership. What else do we learn from G-d’s leadership?

That G-d can be a collaborative leader, for instance when G-d says, “Let us make man in our image.” That G-d sets boundaries. “Don’t eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.” That G-d is like a parent. That G-d trusts us enough to give us free will. That G-d cares about us. “Where are you?” That G-d evaluates the project. “And G-d saw that it was good.” That G-d rests. Remembering to take that time is important. These are essential leadership qualities.

The study was eye opening. We saw things in this text that none of us, including our professors, had noticed before. And it was so good to do this in person, rather than on the phone.

Recently we completed reading Deuteronomy and began reading Genesis again. When I was a college freshman I went to the Tremont Street Shul in Cambridge. There was dancing in the street . Rabbis who were funny and led the service to different tunes like Jingle Bells. There was a song, The High Holiday Blues, written by a Wellesley College music professor. There were snacks and l’chaims. It was fun. It wasn’t like anything I had ever seen before. I decided that night that I wanted to be a rabbi. I wanted to be a part of it. Up close and personal. The Joy. The Enthusiasm. The Passion. I wanted to help create it for others.

The end of Deuteronomy talks about the death of Moses. The text tells us that never again there arises a leader like Moses. But in addition to starting the cycle over, we also read the haftarah, about Joshua. Joshua was the leader that followed Moses. The text tells us “Chazak v’emetz. Be strong and of good courage.” That was a huge leadership transition.

We are heirs to that tradition. Pirke Avot begins by saying, “Moses received the Torah from Sinai and transmitted to Joshua. Joshua to the Elders, the Elders to the Prophets and the Prophets to the Men of the Great Assembly.” Those are leadership transitions too.

That is what we are called on to do. Be strong and of good courage. And to transmit our vision of a world redeemed with hope.

Come join me this evening as we pray and meditate for healing. Tomorrow we begin again to work toward that vision.

We live in a democracy. And for this I am very grateful. It is imperfect. It is messy. It is confusing. And it works. Better than most systems.

When Simon and I used to do colonial re-enacting in Chelmsford, I used to think I was somewhat disingenuous. You see, back in the day we were portraying, I would not have been able to vote. You needed to be a white, male, Christian land owner. As a Jewish woman, I could not have participated. My voice would not have counted.

For thousands of years, since Jeremiah’s time, Jews have prayed for their governments, their leaders and advisors. My favorite one of these is from the Jewish congregation in Richmond, VA, welcoming the newly elected president, George Washington. It is an acrostic, with Washington’s name spelled out in the Hebrew. The current prayer book my congregation uses includes a prayer for our country at the conclusion of the Torah service. It lays out the vision of leadership that we hope for our country.

My mother died on Election Day in 2008. Her favorite reading, what she read at her own Confirmation in 1939 at Shaare Emeth in Saint Louis was “Grant us peace.” She read it again at my own daughter’s Bat Mitzvah in 2003. It too gives us a vision of the world we would like to see. That I work tirelessly to try to achieve. I still hear it in her preferred version with the “Thees and the Thous.”

Most prayer books do not have a ready made prayer for elections. That has not stopped friends and colleagues from writing their own, which is a very good practice. It brings a certain level of kavanah/intention to the prayer and to the action. It elevates something that could be ordinary and makes it extraordinary.

Today I offer a few of them. I have arranged them first in the singular and then in the plural. The singular ones seem perfect for the act of casting those individual votes. The ones in the plural seem written to be read by a community.

Read them all or just one. Read them online. Print them out. Take them with you to the polls. Reflect on this responsibility, this obligation, this right. Pray for discernment, for wisdom. Meditate. Enjoy the whole experience and remember that there are still many all over the world who are not privileged to enjoy this right.

Whatever you do, vote. Your vote counts. Your vote is your voice. It matters. It is vitally important. Do it today. Tomorrow will be too late.

Tomorrow, when we wake up, we have to roll up our sleeves and get back to work. To fulfill the vision that the prophets exhorted us to. To recognize that everyone, even those on the opposite side, were created “b’tzelem elohim” in the image of G-d. Everyone.

Here they are:

For Wisdom During U.S. Presidential Elections
God of Justice,
Protector and Redeemer,
Grant guidance to our nation
As we select leaders,
Senators, Congresspersons and a President,
The men and women who promise
To uphold the Constitution,
To uphold our values,
To serve and to govern,
To bring prosperity to our land,
To protect our homes and secure our future.

Grant wisdom and courage to voters
To select a visionary President
And steadfast leaders,
People who will serve our citizens,
And all who reside within our borders,
With honor and integrity
To forge a flourishing and peaceful future.

Bless our future President with
Wisdom and strength,
Fortitude and insight,
Balanced by a deep humanity
And a love of peace,
Leading us to a time
When liberty and equality will
Reign supreme throughout the land.

God of Truth,
Source and Shelter,
Grant safety and security to all nations,
So that truth and harmony will resound
From the four corners of the earth.
Let the light of our U.S. democracy
Shine brightly,
A beacon of hope
For every land and every people.

Alden Solovy

With my vote today I am prepared and intending
to seek peace for this country,
as You taught through Your prophet:

“Seek out the peace of the city
where I cause you to roam
and pray for her sake to God YHVH,
for in her peace you all will have peace.”
(Jer. 29:7)

May it be Your will that votes
will be counted faithfully
and may You account my vote
as if I had fulfilled this verse
with all my power.

May it be good in Your eyes
to give a wise and listening heart
to whomever we elect today
and may You raise for us a government
whose rule is for good and blessing,
to bring justice and peace
to all the inhabitants of the world
and to Jerusalem, for rulership is Yours!

Just as I participated in elections today
so may I merit to do good deeds
and repair the world with all my actions,
and with the act of. . .[fill in your pledge]
which I pledge to do today
on behalf of all living creatures
and in remembrance of the covenant
of Noah’s waters,
to protect and to not destroy
the earth and her plenitude.

May You give to all the peoples of this country
the strength and will to pursue righteousness
and to seek peace as unified force
in order to cause to flourish,
throughout the world, good life and peace
and may You fulfill for us the verse:

“May the pleasure of Adonai our God
be upon us, and establish
the work of our hands for us,
May the work of our hands endure.” (Ps. 90:17)

     Rabbi David Seidenberg

Prayer for the Electorate
May the One who graces
each person with knowledge
and teaches humanity understanding,
bless and protect the voters of this land
on the upcoming presidential election,
so that they may place in all their gates
leaders of thousands and leaders of hundreds
leaders of fifties and leaders of tens,
people of valor who revere God,
people of truth who despise corruption.

The One who sustains nations
on order, on truth, and on peace:
may it be Your will
that no misfortune occur by their hands,
and may the nation rejoice
when the righteous abound.
Save them from a wicked path,
from those who speak perversely.
Send wisdom into their heart
and make knowledge pleasant to their soul,
as it says, “Then you shall understand
virtue and justice; equality and every good path.”
And may it be Your will.
And let us say: Amen.

David Zvi Kalman

Grant us peace, Your most precious gift, O Eternal Source of peace, and give us the will to proclaim its message to all the peoples of the earth. Bless our country, that it may always be a stronghold of peace, and its advocate among the nations. May contentment reign within its border, health and happiness within its homes. Strengthen the bonds of friendship among the inhabitants of all lands, and may the love of Your name hallow every home and every heart. Blessed is the Eternal God, the Source of peace.

Gates of Prayer

A Meditation on Voting

Have you ever played with legos or blocks and been so angry you knocked every thing over, smashed it all down? That’s this portion. G-d is really, really angry. G-d created humanity and then wasn’t happy with the result. It is not exactly clear why and Rashi asks that question. Why does G-d want to destroy the world? What is that word, “hamas” that gets translated as corruption or violence?

Some say it is that the people didn’t listen to G-d. They disobeyed the Divine will. Yet, so far there weren’t many orders, “Be fruitful and multiply. Stay away from that tree. Take care of the earth.” Maybe G-d is figuring out that they need even more rules, that free will isn’t all it is cracked up to be.

Some say that G-d was frustrated because in giving us free will, G-d surrendered some of G-d’s control.

Some say that it goes back to when G-d said, “Let us make man in our image.” Since we don’t know, can’t know what that image is and are commanded in the 10 Commandments not to make an image of G-d, somehow this is idolatrous on the angels part. Some midrashim actually say that G-d actually makes 974 worlds before this one. It seems maybe G-d has an anger management problem.

Yet, G-d is a compassionate G-d. He finds Noah. Noah walked with G-d. Noah was a righteous man (in his generation). Blameless. Flawless. Perfect. However you translate taam.

Tzedek. He was righteous. Just. What does it take to be righteous? What motivates an individual to stand up in life-threatening circumstances and behave exceptionally? Barbara Binder Kadden, a noted Jewish educator, asks that question in a d’var Torah about this very topic and looks at the definition on Yad V’shem’s website.

“In describing the Righteous Among the Nations, “attitudes towards the Jews during the Holocaust ranged from indifference to hostility. The mainstream watched as their former neighbors were rounded up and killed; some collaborated with the perpetrators; many benefitted from the expropriation of the Jews’ property. In a world of total moral collapse there was a small minority who mustered extraordinary courage to uphold human values . . . these rescuers regarded the Jews as fellow human beings. . . “

Because that is how we are taught to see “b’tzelem elohim”, created in the image of G-d. We are all created in the image of G-d. Righteousness, is therefore, having the moral courage to stand up to those who are marginalized, precisely because they are created in the image of G-d.

And that is where Noah falls down. He is righteous in his generation, not for all times. He fails to speak up. He fails to argue to save humanity. To save the world. That is what next week’s Torah portion about Abraham teaches us. Abraham walked before G-d. Abraham argues with G-d to save Sodom and Gemorah.

Rabbi Lord Sacks says it this way…

“Noah is the classic case of someone who is righteous but not a leader. In a disastrous age, when all has been corrupted, when the world is filled with violence, when even God himself – in the most poignant line in the whole Torah – “regretted that He had made man on earth, and He was pained to His very core,” Noah alone justifies God’s faith in humanity, the faith that led Him to create mankind in the first place. That is an immense achievement, and nothing should detract from it. Noah is, after all, the man through whom God makes a covenant with all humanity. Noah is to humanity what Abraham is to the Jewish people.”

Remember those legos at the beginning of our discussion. G-d takes the building blocks and begins to rebuild. It isn’t perfect. It is good enough. It reminds me of our trip to South Dakota this summer. We learned that behind Lincoln’s head at Mount Rushmore, there is a secret room, the Hall of Records. And in the Hall of Records there is a titanium vault and inside that vault is a teakwood box. And inside that box are all of the charter documents of this country. Etched on the capstone is this:

“…let us place there, carved high, as close to heaven as we can, the words of our leaders, their faces, to show posterity what manner of men they were. Then breathe a prayer that these records will endure until the wind and rain alone shall wear them away.”

Learning about this secret room gave me goosebumps.The sculptor who dreamed of creating Mount Rushmore wasn’t perfect. He may not have even been righteous, even in his generation. Yet, he left us a lasting legacy and a dream of the future. That room means that, if necessary, the generations that come after us will have the ability to restart this great nation, just like G-d pushed the reset button on the world.

But there are two other things in this week’s portion to give us hope.

The first is the root word, kaf—pay—raish. We know this word. We just celebrated Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. The root of Kippur is this word. But here it shows up in a different sense entirely. Why did G-d tell Noah to spread k-p-r on the ark. What is this substance? Usually it is translated as pitch or tar.

At this week’s Academy for Jewish Religion’s retreat, I heard another interpretation. That both represent G-d’s compassion.

G-d is a compassionate G-d. Sacks says that “G-d created humanity because G-d has faith in humanity. Far more than we have faith in God, God has faith in us. We may fail many times, but each time we fail, God says: “Even to old age I will not change, and even to grey hair, I will still be patient.” I will never give up on humanity. I will never lose faith. I will wait for as long as it takes for humans to learn not to oppress, enslave or use violence against other humans. ..God has patience. God has forgiveness. God has compassion. God has love. For centuries, theologians and philosophers have been looking at religion upside down. The real phenomenon at its heart – the mystery and miracle – is not our faith in God. It is God’s faith in us.”

Our group thought hard about that connection. One woman said that maybe like Yom Kippur seals us for a blessing the k-p-r seals the ark, keeping the water out. That was an aha moment!

We thought about Noah’s wife, mentioned five times in the Bible but never named. The midrash gives her the name Na’amah. Rabbi Sandy Sasso has written a lovely children’s story about that midrash (Bereshit Rabbah 33:7). Na’amah was a woman of beauty, musical talent, and a doer of good deeds. The rabbis of the Talmud found that threatening. But what if we think about her this way. Her music tamed the savage beast creating peace amongst all those animals and preventing the original cabin fever. Her song enabled her family to pray. She inspired her husband and her children to work together allowing them to dream, to plan and to rebuild the world.

Sh…I’ll tell you a secret. We don’t have to go to New York to learn (although it is nice). We have everything we need right here in Elgin! People who are willing to wrestle with the texts and come up with their own meaning.

This gives me hope. And it makes sense. After the Flood, G-d regains equilibrium and promises never to destroy the world again with a flood. The sign of that promise, the sign of that covenant is the rainbow, the perfect balance of sun and rain.

Have you ever gone looking for a rainbow. You think the conditions are right. It is late afternoon, the sun is out and it is raining. You won’t find one. Or at least I haven’t. No, I think you have to be surprised by a rainbow. And then it is time to say the blessing. Yes, there is a special blessing for seeing a rainbow. Like all blessings, it begins, Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech Ha’olam. Blessed are You, Lord our G-d, Ruler of the Universe, Zocher Habrit. Who remembers the covenant.

Debbie Friedman, of blessed memory, has a lovely setting of it. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bw_XdHboBMI&feature=player_embedded

This is a covenant. And the reason that a rainbow appears is to remind us of that covenant. A covenant is a promise, a legal contract. If you do x I will do y. G-d promises to never destroy the world again.

What is our responsibility? What then is our y?

To make sure that happens. To partner with G-d. To be like G-d. To be compassionate. To be kind. To love our neighbors as ourselves. To love every living creature and recognize that each is created in the image of G-d. To find the Divine spark in everyone.

That is the hope that the rainbow brings. That we can be partners with G-d. That we have everything we need. Because of G-d faith in us and G-d’s unlimited compassion, we can begin again.

Today is Bereshit, perfect for a weekend of baseball. Because it is the answer to an old Jewish joke. What is the first mention of baseball in the Bible? In the BIG inning. Which we will read shortly.

This is not the only Biblical connection between baseball and Judaism. “We also read in the Torah Eve stole first, Adam second; Joshua sent a blast to the wall; Rebecca went to the well with the pitcher. Abraham tried to sacrifice Isaac; and Goliath was struck out by David.”

While I have known these jokes for decades, and saw them again recently from another rabbi, apparently they came originally from an old Keeping Posted magazine that we used to get as kids in religious school.

But seriously, with apologies to the Sound of Music, the beginning is a very good place to start. Why? What is so important in these first few chapters, we just read the first chapter this morning of the Book of Genesis? It is not especially good science. But that is a sermon for a different time.

I think there is a message there. Rabbi Harold Kushner who wrote When Bad Things Happen to Good People wrote a book I find I need to reread every year. How Good Do We Need To Be. He argues that these opening chapters of Genesis teaches us that G-d loves us, even if we don’t listen, even if we disobey, even if we are not perfect. He argues that the purpose of Judaism, of any religion, is not to be perfect but is to be whole, and to know that we are loved by G-d and there is enough love to go around. Even if you are jealous of your siblings, you squabble with you spouse, you place unreasonable expectations on your children. And he does it with a baseball metaphor.

Life is like the baseball season, where even the best team loses at least a third of its games, and even the worst team has its days of brilliance. The goal is not to win every game but to win more than you lose, and if you do that often enough, in the end you may find you have won it all.
Kushner, How Good Do We have to Be

Works for me! When we lived in Evanston, I had a little white radio, AM/FM that looked like a baseball. My brother had the red one. I would hide under the covers, listening to WGN and the Chicago Cubs. It was on that radio that I heard about the death of Robert Kennedy and on that radio that I heard of the plane crash carrying Roberto Clemente. So, yes, I was a Cubs fan in my youth. Then we moved to Grand Rapids. My brother became a Tigers fan. I remained a Cubs fan. Danny played T-ball. My father coached. Then he had a heart attack and I became his proxy, helping the other coach. There is nothing better than sitting outside on an early, warm spring day watching kids play baseball. In this wonderful creation.

In college I became a founding editor of the Tufts Daily, the sports editor. With my precious press pass, I could attend opening day at Fenway Park, which back in the day the opening was against the Tigers, not the Yankees. A Red Sox fan was born. It is a hard life, a Jewish life to be a Cubs fan, a Tigers fan and then a Red Sox fan. My spiritual director used to say, and I checked with him this year, that G-d could never allow a Cubs-Red Sox world series because someone would have to win and then the world would have to come to an end. It would be of epic proportions, it could usher in the messianic era. And since that is not the series we have this year, maybe he is right.

Seriously, there has been much written about the Cubs and Judaism lately.

The Israeli ambassador to the US Ron Dermer, made a stop at Wrigley this month, saying “The Cubs might be the most Jewish team in America. They’ve experienced a long period of suffering and now they’re hoping to get to the promised land.” 108 years is a long time to wander in the desert. Even longer than the Israelites. A Jerusalem Post columnist, Rabbi Stewart Weiss called the Cubs, “The Jews of the sports world. “long-suffering, mocked and maligned, preyed upon by Giants, Pirates, even birds and fish, always seeking the Promised Land of postseason play yet never quite making it there. For 2,000 years, Jews wandered the world, hoping that one day they’d reach the Promised Land, the land of Israel. And so, we finally did. For 108 years, the Cubs have wandered the baseball world, hoping that one day they’d reach the Promised Land, the World Series. And God willing, one day they will! Maybe this will be the year.”

My college thesis advisor, Sol Gittleman, who wrote, “Reynolds, Raschi and Lopat: New York’s Big Three and the Great Yankee Dynasty of 1949-1953.” He paid for his first year of college on the proceeds of betting on his first world series. He knew that “Baseball’s not just baseball. It’s integration, immigration, law, transportation, travel, Manifest Destiny, race, labor and business relations, ethnicity, technology – a whole series of topics that really represents American history.”

Now Sol has always been a Yankees fan, never a Dodgers fan. And he could talk to you about the power of rivalries. There exists a strong rivalry between the Red Sox and the Yankees. Some would say bitter. But when that rivalry spills over to physical violence, which it has, in Connecticut for example. That is not OK. That is NEVER OK. A better model is when Simon and the Phelans, both rabid fans for their college teams can sit calmly side by side at breakfast discussing tomorrow’s game. Because it is only a game. And you have to play the game.

It’s math too. A way to learn multiplication tables of threes.

And spirituality.

Theologians have recognized its metaphysical qualities. The Wall Street Journal said, “That slow pace requires fans to pay close attention for hours in the hopes of a transcendent moment.” Sol and I would say it teaches us about meditation, prayer, patience, grace and greatness, compassion.

Irwin Keller, in an article that a congregant sent me this week, said, “Because being a Cubs fan has something to do with faith. Not faith in a specific outcome, but faith for its own sake. Faith as practice…Whereas the theology of the Cubs fan had (and has) something to do with our embrace of the “is” rather than the “might be.” It is the belief without proof. Without promise of reward. Patience just because…If only we could live our lives this way! With such constancy. With exquisite endurance, faith that doesn’t flag, joy even in the waiting.”

There is even a book by John Sexton, Baseball as a Road to G-d.” I have added it to my goodreads reading list.

And hope—which brings us back to today’s Torah portion. Shortly we will read about mikveh mayyim, the ingathering of the waters, where we get the word mikveh from. But the work mikveh and the word tikvah, hope are related.

And ritual—think about how a baseball player comes to the plate and makes all sorts of hand motions before actually hoisting the bat to his shoulder. That’s ritual. Think about all the things you’ve heard about billy goats and lucky shirts, Chicago dogs, watching or not watching. Those are rituals too.

And about family—for many watching sports together is that “dor v’dor”, from generation to generation moment that we sing about. I know that Simon says he feels closer to his father sitting in the Michigan stadium with 100,000 other people than any other place. I know that there are many in Chicagoland who have waited for this moment their whole lives and want to share it with family, parents, children, grandchildren. L’dor v’dor!

And abut this very place. When standing at the Field of Dreams diamond in Iowa thinking about the main hope of that movie, “If you build it, they will come.” It is not unlike Herzl whose belief “If you will it, it is no dream.” So my prayer this morning, is, please G-d, no more wait until next year. If you will it, it is no dream.” Please G-d, let this be the year.”

One last joke. From Aish.com with a change of names. Manny and Maurry, both in their 90’s, had played professional baseball together and, after they retired, had remained close friends. Manny suddenly fell deathly ill. Maurry visited Manny on his deathbed. After they talked a while and it became obvious that Manny had only a few more minutes to live, Maurry said, “Listen old friend. After you die, try and get a message back to me. I want to know if there’s baseball in heaven.”

With his dying breath, Manny whispers, “If God permits, I’ll do my best to get you an answer.”

A few days after Manny died, Maurry is sleeping when he hears Manny’s voice.

Manny says, “Maurry, I’ve got good news and bad news. The good news is, yes, there IS baseball in heaven. The bad news is, you’re scheduled to pitch the top half of tomorrow’s double-header.”

In the BIG inning. Let’s go read it. And go Cubs.