Proclaim Liberty Throughout the Land to all the inhabitants thereof.” (Lev XXV:10). These are part of today’s Torah portion. And, they appear on the “Liberty Bell” in Pennsylvania. 

How nice that this year at least they are the words that we Jews read as sacred scripture for Memorial Day Weekend. It gives us the opportunity to pause, to reflect and to consider what these central words mean to us as Americans and as Jews. As Jewish Americans or American Jews.  

And that is exactly what I said several years ago. Before. In May of 2016. Before Charlottesville. Before a pandemic. Before we talked about rising anti-semitism. Before October 7th. Before. 

It turns out, there is very little Jewish commentary on them. They seem to be pretty self-explanatory. Rashi has one comment but there isn’t that usual question hanging in the air, “What’s bothering Rashi?” He points out that this liberty was especially for slaves during the Jubilee year. 

What then is a jubilee?  

• a special anniversary of an event, especially one celebrating twenty-five or fifty years of a reign or activity. 

“jubilee celebrations” 

adjective 

• (of desserts) flambé. 

“cherries jubilee” 

I think though that it gets confused with jubilant. To rejoice or shout with joy. Psalm 100 begs, “Make a joyful noise unto the Lord.”  At a jubilee we clearly should with joy, jubilantly Can we today?  

Jews have not celebrated a jubilee year since being in captivity in Babylon in about 600 BCE. A jubilee — yovel in Hebrew — is a year observed once in 50 years, following seven cycles of seven-year shmita, or sabbatical, years, the shmita year. We are back to counting. Like the shmita year, the jubilee is one in which no agricultural work is to be done and the land is to lie fallow. But jubilee also has some additional rituals. Like blowing the shofar to announce the beginning of one, Maimonides cites our very reading this morning:  

Maimonides cites our very portion this morning, Leviticus 25:9-10, which states: “Then shall you cause the shofar to sound on the tenth day of the seventh month, on Yom Kippur shall you sound the shofar throughout all your land. And you shall hallow the fiftieth year, and proclaim liberty throughout all the land to all its inhabitants; it shall be a jubilee for you.” Those very words on the liberty bell.  

This is radical, A unique, compassionate way to arrange society, and something to shout joyfully about, 

AND YE SHALL PROCLAIM LIBERTY unto slaves, both to him whose ear has been pierced (and whose period of servitude has thus been prolonged until the Jubilee; cf. Exodus 21:6) and to him whose six years of servitude (the period prescribed for an ordinary Hebrew servant; Exodus 21:6 Exodus 21:2), reckoning from the time when he was sold, have not yet ended. R. Jehuda said, “What is the etymology of the term דרור, freedom? A free man is like a person who may dwell (דור) at an inn — meaning that he may reside in any place he pleases, and is not under the control of others. (דרור therefore implies liberty of residence) (Rosh Hashanah 9b). (Rashi on Lev 25:10) 

For me, this verse is something of a continuing word puzzle, and I love puzzles. So bear with me… 

Proclaim here is from the root Karah, to call out, to read. Something we announce outloud, just like we read Torah, outloud, publicly, Loudly. That was the purpose of putting this on the liberty bell. The bell, much like a shofar that proclaimed the jubilee year did the proclaiming, the announcing, the shouting. 

But the Hebrew word for liberty is surprising. It is dror…which really means release. What are we being released from? How does it differ from freedom or liberty? That’s where this gets interesting…. 

To release is to allow or enable to escape from confinement; to set free. Prisoners are released. Slaves are released. That’s what this verb is talking about. To allow something to move, act or flow freely. Synonyms include free, set free, let go/out, liberate, untie, undo, loose, unleash, unfetter. 

We release balloons. Maybe that is how we should celebrate. I’ve seen plenty of them around this weekend and seniors are “released” from school and graduate. Nope. Pretty, but not good for the environment or the birds. 

My colleague, Cantor Vera Broekhuysen was introducing to her congregation last night a song, Dror Yakira which is part of the Zemirot that are often sung on Shabbat afternoon. In our siddur, Siddur Sim Shalom, zemirot begin on page 316 with D’ror Yikar on 322. There is nothing more pleasant then sitting around late on Shabbat afternoon singing zemirot.  

D’ror Yikara was apparently composed in the 10th century. The version she is teaching is an updated Sephardic version of the one I learned as an undergraduate: 

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dJCh8NAJhes 

https://www.google.com/search?gs_ssp=eJzj4tVP1zc0TItPSTM3LzA2YPTiSinKL1KozMwuSgQAbXkIWw&q=dror+yikra&rlz=1C5CHFA_enUS912US927&oq=dror+yikra&gs_lcrp=EgZjaHJvbWUqCggBEC4Y1AIYgAQyDQgAEAAY4wIYgAQYnwQyCggBEC4Y1AIYgAQyCggCEC4Y1AIYgAQyBwgDEAAYgAQyBwgEEAAYgAQyBwgFEAAYgAQyBwgGEC4YgAQyBwgHEAAYgAQyCAgIEAAYFhgeMggICRAAGBYYHtIBCDk2OTFqMGo3qAIAsAIA&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8#fpstate=ive&ip=1&vld=cid:7bab0ef2,vid:Wola3ImL9uQ,st:0 

The lyrics in this time are haunting: 

He grants release to lad and lass:
As His eye’s apple safe, they play.
Their innocence shall never pass:
Then take your ease this Sabbath day.

O seek in love my martyred shrine
And to mine eyes salvation show.
In Zion’s vineyard plant her vine
And hear my people’s cry of woe. 

May the hostages be released, safely, speedily and in our day.  Release them now!

Remember when Listen Up was here? They have a version of Acheinu, the prayer we have been saying since October. It came back to me from my chevruta partner, Rabbi Linda Shriner-Cahn, because really it is a small world: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XYE7HQJCSPU 

But while we just observed Yom Hazikron, Israel Memorial Day on May 13 and Israel Indepence Day on May 14 this year, a muted version of other years, we live here in the United States, and this weekend we mark Memorial Day, dedicated to the men and women who gave the ultimate sacrifice to protect our liberty, our freedom, 

Our ancestors, our relatives, came to this land, some earlier than others, for that sense of release, for freedom. For freedom to worship as they saw fit. For freedom, in some cases, not to worship at all. 

We have in this country, the freedom to do what we want to do, when we want to do it. Within reason. If I had chosen to sleep in this morning, and not come, I could have exercised that freedom but there would have been consequences.  

What freedoms do you value:  

We brainstormed a list of those freedoms we value here. It still read like the Bill of Rights. Freedom of religion, freedom to assemble, freedom of speech, freedom of the press, yes, even freedom to bear arms (although personally I believe there should be some limits on that one). 

There has been much discussion this year on freedom of speech and freedom to assemble. In fact, as we discussed, there are limits on freedom of speech. You cannot walk into this sanctuary, or a movie theatre and announce, proclaim if you will that there is a fire if there is no fire. 

Freedoms that I believe in but have limits.  And we added to our list freedom to select your own healthcare and freedom to vote. This week marked the anniversary of when Fiddler was released (another use of that word) as a movie. Like Tevye I pray for the freedom to sit in the synagogue and pray. Shabbat is a sign of the freedom to not work, to relax, to just be.  

As we have said, with freedom comes responsibility. The Torah is really clear on that point. Because we were slaves—and we were freed—we are responsible for taking care of the widow, the orphan, the stranger—as I often say, the most marginal among us. 

Jews have been praying on behalf of our governments since Jeremiah’s day, during the first exile to Babylon. Jews have been praying on behalf of the American government since colonial times and when this nation was young. I have read part of Moses Seixias’s prayer before to you. I have read the Richmond Jewish community’s prayer for Washington in the past. This one fascinates me because it is an acrostic spelling out Washington’s name in Hebrew. http://opensiddur.org/prayers-for/collective-welfare/government/prayer-for-george-washington-first-president-of-the-united-states-of-america-by-kahal-kadosh-beit-shalome-1789/ 

Our own prayer book, Siddur Sim Shalom has a prayer for our country. The Reform movement prayer books have prayers for our country. In Great Britain there are prayers for the queen, now king.  

The U46 School System has a mission statement that says that U46 is a great place for all students to learn, all teachers to teach and all employees to work. All means all. 

I have spent some time recently helping U46 navigate some very complicated waters around freedom of speech and honoring all students and staff. I still believe that “all means all.” For me, it comes from the idea that we are all created in the image of the Divine, we all have a spark of the divine in us.  

All means all. Quoting Tevye, “Sounds simple, no?” But how we achieve it is part of that American dream that is so important to me. To all of us. We want to be able to sit under our vine and fig tree where none will make us afraid. We want to be able to proclaim liberty throughout the land to ALL the inhabitants thereof. 

I ended that sermon in 2016 with these words: 

“I am glad that my ancestors had the vision to come to this country. I am glad that many of them were compelled to fight for the freedoms that they believed in—the very same ones that I believe in too. The very same ones that our American ancestors, William Bradford, Samuel Adams, John and Abigail Adams, Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, Moses Sexias, Gershom Mendes, Hayyim Solomon Rebecca Gratz dreamed of. An America that would be a light to the nations. A new Jerusalem. Those freedoms include, “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” Those freedoms include “justice for all.” All means all. That is what my ancestors, my Jewish ones and my American ones dreamed of and fought for. We are not there yet. We have a ways to go. And a responsibility to make sure that the next generation, from generation to generation, l’dor v’dor can live in a land that embraces all. I am willing to fight for it. With my words. Responsibly.” 

Warning: Long post ahead. Earilier today I debated Rabbi Shmuly Yaklowitz, one of the brightest most compassionate rabbis I know. I was excited about this project because I have wanted to expose my people to him. He is modern Orthodox, although he never used that term, whose publisher is the CCAR, the Reform movement and he stands with me on many social justice issues I care about. Perfect for our fiercely independent congregation, And if we win, we get a $5000 prize. A fundraiser where money comes from outside Elgin. Perfect. Topic? Is vegan or meat-eating the most authentic Judaism. Ready, set, go. Current topic, timely and i don’t think it is possible to “win”. In fact several of my colleagues tried to talk me out of it. I decided to try anyway. 

Format: 

I speak 10 minutes 

He speaks, 10 minutes 

I respond 10 minutes 

He responds 10 minutes 

Q&A and Voting 

All on Zoom 

Here are my remarks and my responses: 

It may be true that I have often said that steak, baked potato and asparagus is my favorite meal. But does that make it an authentic Jewish meal?  Is eating meat authentically Jewish? And while I have many friends who are vegan, for a variety of reasons, ethical, moral, health, envioronmental, I don’t think you can claim that veganism is authentically Jewish either. 

Before we dive into the texts that I collected and the comments that I solicited from other members of CKI and beyond, we need to define authentic: 

From the google dictionary box, which came from the Oxford languages authentic is: 

of undisputed origin; genuine. 

“the letter is now accepted as an authentic document” 

l 

based on facts; accurate or reliable. 

“an authentic depiction of the situation” 

Merriam Webster has it as: 

: not false or imitation : REAL, ACTUAL 

an authentic cockney accent
2: true to one’s own personality, spirit, or character 

is sincere and authentic with no pretensions
3 a: worthy of acceptance or belief as conforming to or based on fact 

paints an authentic picture of our society 

b: conforming to an original so as to reproduce essential features 

an authentic reproduction of a colonial farmhouse 

c: made or done the same way as an original 

authentic Mexican fare 

https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/authentic 

My job here today is to prove that eating meat is authentically Jewish. 

My question then becomes does authentic make it unique? I think so. Judaism represents a wide ranging culture. As I explained to D300 earlier this week there is no one Jewish American culture. Culture includes things like how we worship, how we believe, what morals and ethics we subscribe to, our music, our art, our writings and yes, our food.  

Food is important in Judaism. When our confirmation kids interviewed all of you at the Chanukah bazaar back in November, long before we even dreamed of this debate, the number one thing people liked about being Jewish was the food. Number 2 was community.   

What seems to unite Jews across the world is how we eat, the system of how we eat called kashut, which really means fit or proper. 

From almost the beginning of time in Judaism, in our writings, the Torah, people have eaten meat. While in the Garden of Eden, Eve and Adam didn’t eat meat, by Cain and Abel, they were offering sacrifices Abel’s from the field and Cain’s from the flock. G-d preferred Abel’s and rejected Cain’s. It seems G-d likes meat. 

As Myrna explained it, since G-d created people with canine teeth, designed to tear meat, G-d must have meant us therefore to eat meat. We thought maybe we could rest there our debate right here.  

But wait, you say, Cain and Abel were not yet Jews, not yet Israelites. So let’s continue.  

Noah wasn’t Jewish either, per se.  But by Chapter 9 of Genesis we get these words from G-d.  

Every creature that lives shall be yours to eat; as with the green grasses, I give you all these.You must not eat flesh with life blood in it. (Genesis 9 3) But eating meat is not expressly forbidden, just not with blood, so the assumption is that it must be OK, from the pure animals that Noah put on the ark. 

Just before the exodus from Egypt, when the Israelites were waiting for the 10th plague, they nervousl,y at G-d’s bidding sacrificed a lamb and put the blood on their doorposts so that the angel of death would pass over their houses and spare their first born. A miracle! It worked. The blood of a lamb protected the Israelites. The original seders were simple harkening back to that moment—matzah, bitter herbs and LAMB. While some may put a beet on their seder plates today to represent that blood, others see the Hillel sandwich, again, originally matzah, lamb and bitter herbs, as throwback to that original command.  

We are in the middle of reading the book of Leviticus, Vakikra, and much of it has to do with animal sacrifice. Leviticus is clear: “Say to the Israelites: Of all the animals that live on land, these are the ones you may eat:” Leviticus: 11:2 A long list ensures of what we can and cannot eat. And of course, we know that it also says twice, specifically no pig.  

These animal sacrifices were designed to help us draw close to G-d. One of their very names, korban means to draw close. That name was in yesterday’s parsha. Our job is to draw close to G-d. One way we do that is through the sacrificial system. One way we do that is how we intentionally eat. 

What possible relevance could this have for our own time? We no longer have the Holy Temple in Jerusalem, and we know that deeds of lovingkindness have replaced animal sacrifice. As I often say we are not going to have a barbecue in the synagogue parking lot—well maybe for the Men’s Club Scotch and Steak in the Sukkah or Lag B’omer which is coming up next week Sunday.  

But in a mystical way, according to the Kabbalah, sacrificing animals elevates our souls and even that of the animal. I learned this tidbit while at the Govenor’s Seder sitting next to the Chabad rabbi Mendy Turen of Springfield. While I am not sure I completely understand this, I offer: 

“The detailed laws of animal sacrifices are no exception. Physically, they don’t relate to us in our present age, but on a psychological and spiritual level, these laws relate to us a timeless message for human challenge and growth. Deleting them from the Bible is an amputation of a vital, indispensable component of the spiritual opportunities life offers us.” That opportunity allows us chance to complete our chief task in life to challenge our own inner animal, every day anew, bringing it one step closer to our higher, deeper self, and to the G‑dly space within us.” https://www.chabad.org/kabbalah/article_cdo/aid/2502892/jewish/Elevating-Our-Animals.htm 

Or as Gene tried to explain it to me, animal sacrifice was a triple win, the life of the animal was taken for a higher purpose, your life was cleansed and the Levites, who were tasked with performing this sacrificial system had full gainful employment, 

When we finally entered the land of Israel as described in Deuteronomy, we were told: 

When the Lord your G-d has enlarged your territory as he promised you, and you crave meat and say, “I would like some meat,” then you may eat as much of it as you want. (Deuteronomy 12:20) 

If this conversation is really about eating vegan what do we do with the idea that the very land of Israel is described as a good land, a land “flowing with milk and honey.” as several of you pointed out.  In order for there to be milk, there must be cows, or goats or sheep, to make that milk. We are marching towards Shavuot. Today is the 26th day of the counting of the Omer. The tradition is to have dairy foods for Shavuot to represent that very land. So think cheesecake, blintzes. Remember that Chanukah also features cheese as Judith served the enemy salty cheese and then got him drunk to relieve his thirst. Dairy is baked into our heritage, making it authentic to our diet, to our culture. 

That’s as far as I got in my frist 10 minutes. Oy!  

He talked about the reason for eating comes all the way from the Garden of Eden. Before Adam and Eve ate from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, all that was eaten was fruit and vegetables, a vegan diet. It was simple. It was pure. And it was morally defensible. For every food choice we make we are voting with our values. My response would be that there is a difference between ethical, moral and compassionate and authentic which is how he set up the debate. Based on the the 13 Atrtributes of G-d, we are to be compassionate. I agree. Abd every food choice illustrate how we live in a just world.  

My part 2
Another way we are authentically Jewish is by keeping kosher, the authentic, unique ways that Jews eat, based on the Torah itself. We are told that there are no extra words in the Torah. If we were not meant to keep kosher, not meant to eat meat at all since the Torah provides an extensive list of the animals we can eat wouldn’t it have been much simpler and more effective to say in a staccato voice, “Don’t eat meat!” full stop. 

 The rabbis of the Talmud write extensively about how to eat meat, reminding us three times we are not to cook meat and milk together…but they don’t argue that we shouldn’t eat meat at all. One of these long arguments is on Chullin 115b which we don’t have time to fuly explore:
 https://www.sefaria.org/Chullin.115b.7?lang=bi  

In another place, that seems ripped from today’s headlines, they are asked because the Holy Temple has been destroyed, we should not eat meat at all. Many survivors became ascetics, thinking they should hot eat meat or drink wine since these were used in the Holy Temple. But Rabbi Yehoshua rebuked them saying OK, no meat or wine, but they you really ought to stop eating bread because the first fruits can not be brought. Or drink water since the water libations have ceased. Rabbi Yehoshua explained that people needed to mourn but not excessively, and that people could eat meat! (Bava Batra 60b) My thanks to Sharon Brous who retold this story in her new book, the Amen Effect.  

In the modern world many have spoken about the idea that kashrut laws are designed to make Jews Jews.  

I didn’t always keep kosher. In fact, in my Hebrew School I was taught that it was an outmoded form of Judaism. It wan’t and isn’t. It wasn’t until I got to college that I knew anyone who did.  

I keep Kosher, because much like the animal sacrifices we discussed before, it draws me closer to the Divine. It is about mindful eating. I have to slow down, stop and think. It is a way of being inclusive. Anyone can eat in my home. Anyone can eat here at CKI. While some people think it separates Jews from others like brit milah, circumcision, mezuzah and Shabbat, I find it does quite the opposite. Hebrew National had it right. We answer to a higher authority and people seem to want to be part of that.   

The book Kosher Nation, written by Sue Fishkoff and published in 2010, details why More and More of America’s Food Answers to a Higher Authority as the subtitle suggests. Kashrut in America is growing, not shrinking, precisely because it is authentic. Joan Nathan’s cookbook—really a history book Jewish Cooking in America collects much of what we think as Jews we eat—authentically. As many of you have pointed out and the confirmation class concurs, who can imagine Judaism without cholent (Ok, you can make a vegetarian version of that!), or chopped liver, Barbara Njus described that as essential! Chicken soup, brisket, chopped liver, all got votes. Cheesecake, blintzes, latkes, all traditional Ashkanazi treats all were mentioned. Sephardic delicacies, shashuska, Israeli chicken sofrito, Simon’s beloved northern Italian cooking: fried chicken for Chanukah, roast chicken for Shabbat, all authentic Jewish cooking.   

Blu Greenberg in her book, How to Run a Traditional Jewish Household, published in 1983 said this:
“I believe that the purpose of kashrut is to make eating a special experience and to serve as a reminder of a Jew’s ethical conscience as well as of the other unique teachings of Judaism. To me, distinctiveness and not separation is the Jew’s calling. This feeling is possible in the presence of nonobservant Jews and of non-Jews. The values of friendship, human solidarity, and socializing are highly esteemed Jewish values; making a living and exchanging professional service (sometimes performed over a meal) also are respected in Jewish culture. One of the great qualities of the Jewish tradition is its ability to balance contradictions—idealism and realism, Jewish particularism and unusual concern for humanity. Similarly, in the act of eating, one can strike that balance between fidelity to one’s own principles and shared friendship and respectful contact with others.” (page 12) 

But while kashrut, including eating meat keeps me mindful and makes me an authentic Jew, it may not always be the most ethical choice. Blu’s husband, Rabbi Yitz Greenberg, and I think Reb Shmuly’s teacher, was one of only a few Orthodox Rabbis who boycotted non-union lettuce and grapes in 1971. When I got married, we both came into the marriage with the More with Less Cookbook published by the Mennonites, a cousin denomination to the CHurch of the Brethren head uquartered here in Elgin and also a “peace church”.Originally published in 1976 and updated periodically, iIt is the book that first made me aware that for every pound of beef you needed 14 pounds of grain. This is an ethical argument, and a powerful one, particularly in our current climate crisis. However, we do have enough resources in the world to feed the hungry if only we could figure out how to share equitably. We do that partially by own own community garden takening the words of yesterday’s portion to leave the corners of our fields for the widow, the orphan and the stranger, the most marginalize amongst us.  

Others have argued that most of the kosher meat plants in America do not slaughter animals in a compassionate way and do not treat their workers equitably. That is very true in the articles that I have read, but while I deplore those conditions, it doesn’t mean that eating meat is not authentically Jewish. We need to find a balance.  

https://www.sefaria.org/sheets/114040?lang=bi  

https://www.sefaria.org/topics/meat?tab=sources  

Like Rabbi Greenberg and Rabbi Zalman Schacter Shlomi and my own teacher Rabbi Everett Gendler, one of the first Jewish vegetarians, Rabbi Shmuly has also been at the vanguard of something called eco-kashrut. He cites in an article published on My Jewish Learning, that the “The Torah and other Jewish literature lend support for ethical kashrut initiatives. Nahmanides, a 13th century Spanish rabbi, argued (Leviticus 19:1) that if people consume food that is technically kosher from a ritual perspective but do not embrace the ethics that come along with consumption then they are naval birshut haTorah (despicable with the permission of the Torah). They have broken no formal kashrut prohibitions but their act is shameful, and they have not lived by the moral and ethical intentions of the Torah. Nahmanides is referring to eating in moderation but his value certainly lends to broad extension. Simply put: permissible consumption does not necessarily mean good consumption….” That is true, as I have argued. He founded an organization called Tav HaYosher (The Ethical Seal) in 2009. Like a Conservative Movement initiative, Magen Tzedek which is certifying kosher factories to secure worker’s rights to fair pay, fair time and safe working conditions. He argues, however, that “in short, ethical does not redefine kashrut, rather they are complementary and distinct. However, the article does not say that we shouldn’t eat meat, rather that we need to figure out how to do so ethically.  

https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/ethical-kashrut/  

Do we need to do a better job living out our moral compass to compassion? You bet! But today we are merely talking about whether meat is authentically Jewish.  

https://www.sefaria.org/search?q=kashrut%20ethical&tab=sheet&tvar=1&tsort=relevance&svar=1&ssort=relevance 

I have known many people who are vegans, and I appreciate the dedication and intention, dedication and real work, but my last argument is around pekuach nefesh, saving a life. Several of you—perhaps some even on this call, have recently been asked to add at least some chicken back into your diets. It turns out it may not be quite as healthy as we once thought, If you need lengthy articles on this, they have been supplied by a registered dietian at University Hosptial in Ann Arbor and backed by my own physician. Eating less meat: Good, Eating no meat: Not uite yet. Pekuach nefesh, saving a life is a very high value in Judaism, so eating meat is authentically and importanlty Jewish. 

In conclusion, you can be authentically Jewish by being a vegetarian or a vegan. Like Queen Esther was in the palace, it is an easy way to hide your Judaism or if non-kosher meat etc is not available, However, as I have demonstrated. there is so much in Judaism that revolves around meat, in Torah, in Talmud, throughout the ages to our own day, eating meat really is authentically Jewish. Could we, should we, be more ethical about how meat is acquired, but it is authentic to eat meat. 

And now…more chicken soup! Chicken soup is good for the soul, and might just heal my cold. 

He responded by talking about compassion as a way to emanate G-d, which it is. Compassion is important. Judaism has been evolving for thousands of years. Hey, he’s right we even have women rabbis! Judaism will continue to evolve. No doubt about that. Can we get the balance better? You bet. But eating meat is authentically Jewish.
In the Torah 

• Authentic In the Tanach 
• Authentic In the Talmud 
• Authentic In the codes 
• Authentic In our culture 
• Authentic today.  

Thanks to  

Anita Horung
Simon Klein
Ellen Levy
Gene Lindow
Barbara Njus
Amie Flexner Ritchie
Myrna Rosenbaum
R. Linda Shriner-Cahn
Anita Silverman
R. Mendy Turen

Happy Mother’s Day Weekend. Before you tell me that Mother’s Day isn’t a Jewish holiday, maybe it should be. Right from our text today. Today we read Kedoshim, the Holiness code. You shall be holy because I the Lord your G-d am holy. It is the central most section of the Torah. It is a description of how to set up a civil society, a moral society, a Jewish society, based on Jewish values. And it begins with this quote, “Fear your mother and your father, and keep My sabbaths, I am the Lord your G-d.” Now we are not going to debate what holiness means or whether it should be fear or revere your mother or why the order is mother and father here but in the 10 Commandments it is honor your father and mother. 

Today we are going to look at how the image and ideals of mothers have changed over time in Judaism.  

Last night we looked at the poem from Proverbs that many husbands read to their wives callee Eishet Chayil. A woman of valor…who can find. Remember, this is an ideal. We Kleins use it a checklist. Did I work and give food to the needy? A portion to my workers? Did I open my mouth with wisdom? Maybe. And is the law of kindness on my tongue? I’ll keep working on it. These days there are other versions of Eishet Chayil to reflect other kinds of families. Two women. Two men. A divorced or blended family. So, so many combinations these days.  

Eishet Chayil while part of Proverbs, midrashically is what Abraham used as his eulogy of Sarah. It is still used at many women’s funerals. (Not my mother’s! She felt it didn’t represent her understanding of feminism, despite this woman being a business owner, buying and selling fields and working from early morning until late at night!) 

The Jewish matriarchs were Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah. None were perfect. Sarah and Rebecca struggled with infertility and their solutions didn’t always work. Mother’s Day can be tough, if you’ve lost a child, are waiting for a child, lost a parent or your own marriage didn’t work the way you thought it would. Rachel even hid her idols on the way…it is said in Jeremiah that Rachel is still weeping for her children. This year I think we all weep for children…those in American who don’t have access to good health care, those who are abused, those who don’t have enough to eat. That list goes on and oneAnd yes, we weep for children in Gaza, for children in Israel. So, so many tears. 

The history of Mother’s Day is not just a Hallmark Card. It was originally started by some mothers who didn’t want to send another child, a son, off to the Civil War. There must be a better way. There still must be a better way.  

Julia Ward Howe wrote a poem in the 1870s: 

Last night I asked if anyone knew “A Yiddishe Mama” well enough to sing Adon Olam to it. No one even knew it! So here is one version of the Yiddish classic originally sung by Sophie Tucker.  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=weYcCyf-3RU 

Sometimes Bruiah, the wife of Rabbi Meir, herself a scholar and a teacher and therefore sometimes described as the first woman rabbi has an important and painful story to teach about her own children. The midrash tells us that the couple was blessed with two boys who brought their parents much joy. One Shabbat afternoon both sonds suddenly became ill and died. Rather than rushing off to the study hall, the beit midrash where Rabbi Meir was teaching, Bruiah waited until she came home and greeted him at the door withwith what seemed to be a puzzle. what seemed to be a puzzle. “A man lent me a fine gift,” she told him, “and now he has come and asked me to return it.” “W”What is the problem? If it was borrowed, it must be returned.” asked Rabbi Meir. asked Rabbi Meir. “The problem is that the gift is something that I cherish very much and it is hard for me give it up,” she answered. 

“But it is not yours,” her husband replied. “You should be thankful that this man lent you something that gave you such pleasure and be happy to return it.” Then Bruriah led her husband to the next room where their two sons lay still in their bed. I can’t even begin to imagine those parents pain.  

In 1670, Gluckl of Hamlin (https://jwa.org/encyclopedia/article/glueckel-of-hameln) began to write a diary in Yiddish. She was a young bride (14 is young!) and gave birth to 12 children. (I can’t even imagine!) Sadly her husband died in 1689 with still 8 of those children not yet married. He had been quite the business person and she took over the business, traveling all over Europe to ply their wares despite the great risks. She also used those trips to arrange marriages for her children. If you have nf you have not read these memoirs I encouage you strongly to do so.  

One of the stories in her memoir is about a mother eagle who must transport her fledglings over a stormy sea to a new next. These four baby birds depent on her, She fights a head wind, her wings grow ever weaker and there is still too far to go. She asks the first baby, “Do you love me and will you promise to repay me for this?” Yes, I swear,” tweets the first bird. 

But the mother bird senses a lie. She drops that little bird into the sea. Same for eaglet two and three. But number four gives a different answer: “”Mother,” he says, “I can only promise that when I have my own children, I shall do as much for them as you have done for me.” The debt will be paid in full, but only to your grandchildren. 

The weary mother knew the truth when she heard it. She fought with the wind and her fatigue and brought her child who would become the father of her grandchildren safely to the shore. It reminds me a little of Honi and the carob tree. Our ancestors planted for us so we must plant, or fly across the sea for our children and grandchildren. It is one of those l’dor va dor moments. From generation to generation.  

Last night from Leo Rostens Treasure of Jewish Quotations we learned that G-d could not be everywhere, so He created mothers. OK, and as I often quip text me when you get home, I was a Jewish mother before I was a rabbi. But do we really know where it is from? Rosten didn’t source it so I did some investigating. Some think it might be in the Talmud but it is hard to find that exact quote. It might just be a Jewish parable. Or it might be from Golda Meir, who knows where she picked it up.Or maybe it is Rudyard Kipling. No matter, as a parable it rings true, coupled with all the jokes about Jewish mothers.  

The Bookery explains the quote this way: “beautifully encapsulates the concept and significance of motherhood. With profound simplicity, she emphasizes the divine role mothers play in our lives. The quote suggests that mothers possess a unique ability to provide the unconditional love, care, and guidance that we seek. It recognizes the exceptional strength, compassion, and selflessness that mothers embody as they nurture and protect their children. Golda Meir’s words not only highlight the irreplaceable bond between mother and child but also acknowledge the immense impact mothers have in shaping individuals and society as a whole.” https://www.bookey.app/quote-author/golda-meir#:~:text=Golda%20Meir’s%20quote%2C%20%22God%20cannot,mothers%20play%20in%20our%20lives.  

Golda Meir had much to say about parenting and peace: in 1957, before the National Press Club in Washington: “Peace will come when the Arabs will love their children more than they hate us. (She also made a similar statement specifically regarding Nasser.) In a similar vein, she would say, Peace will come when an Arab leader is courageous enough to wish it. Or perhaps you like this versionthis version:
“When peace comes we will perhaps in time be able to forgive the Arabs for killing our sons, but it will be harder for us to forgive them for having forced us to kill their sons. Peace will come when the Arabs will love their children more than they hate us.” 

In Rabbi Harold Kusher’s book, How Good Do We Have to Be? A New Understanding of Guilt and Forgiveness, he has an entire chapter of “Father and Sons, Mothers and Daughters.” This book too is worth the whole read. But today I want to offer you this. He quotes Marian Wright Edelman’s book, the Measure of Our Success with a Letter to my sons: “I seek your forgiveness for all the times I talked when I should have listened, got angry when I should have been patient, acted when I should have waited; feared when I should have been delighted, scolded when I should have encouraged, criticized when I should have complimented said no when I should have said yes and said yes when I should have said not. I did not know a whole lot about parenting or how to ask for help. I often tried too hard and wanted and demanded so much and mistakenly sometimes tried to mold you into my image of what I wanted you to be rather than discovering and nourishing you as you emerged and grew.” Page 90-91 

These are important words. Many have struggled with their relationships with their mothers. Perhaps they were overbearing, helicopter parents. Perhaps they were verbally abusive. Perhaps they abused. Perhaps they were demanding or distant or didn’t understand how to parent. Do any of us, really? Those matriarchs didn’t. Kusher tells the story in his book of being asked whether an adult daughter had to go to her mother’s funeral. He says no, but encouages her to go to mourn the relationship with her parent that she wished she had had. On this Mother’s Day Weekend, words to think about. 

Another thing to think about is the legacy we leave our children. One way to do that is by creating an ethical will, a written testament of the values you want to pass down to your children and grand children. Here is a one paragraph ethical will from a mother to her children: 

“I fully expect that I will live for a very long time, to see you well into adulthood and to share your future with you. There is much to look forward to and I am planning on being part of all the adventures and all the challenges and all the joys. But if for some reason I am not, the most important thing you need to know is how much my love for you created the person that you will remember as me. I made you quite literally, in my womb, but you made me, too. I am so proud of you and so grateful to you.  When the time comes, and none of us can answer the question of when that will be, you need to know that without a doubt, I was fulfilled in my life. I have had a wonderful life and I don’t want you to mourn me – maybe a little, but not too long!  Carry me forward by re-creating the net that I was for you and be it for others. Carry me forward in your kitchen with oatmeal scones and casserole bread and pie, warm from the oven and made for your own delectable pleasure, or for those you care about.  Carry me forward with an optimistic outlook and tenacious devotion to what you know is best. Carry me forward and I will be with you always.” 

https://www.personallegacyadvisors.com/examples-of-ethical-wills/#:~:text=A%20one%20paragraph%20ethical%20will,challenges%20and%20all%20the%20joys.  

However you choose to celebrate this weekend, we hope that it is what you would want. And remember our parsha, “You shall be holy because I the Lord your G-d am holy. Revere your mother and your father, I am the Lord.” 

“Teach us to number our days so we may find a heart of wisdom.” 

We’ve been counting. Counting for a minyan. Counting the Omer. Counting the number of days of Passover. Counting shloshim with two families. Counting the number of days the hostages have been in captivity. Counting so we remember.

So much of our tradition is about memory. Passover is no exception. We are to remember that we ourselves were slaves in Egypt and what the Lord did for us when we went forth.  

Today we observe yizkor, the memorial prayers. Even at our most joyous moments, we are to remember those who went before us. Our portion today talks about the 3 pilgrimage festivals. Passover, Shavuot and Sukkot. On each of these three holidays we are told to remember. We remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy. There is a parallel discussion in Deut 16 which ends: “so that you may remember the day of your departure from the land of Egypt as long as you live.” 

 Three times a year—on the Feast of Unleavened Bread, on the Feast of Weeks, and on the Feast of Booths—all your males shall appear before your Lord God  in the place that [God] will choose. They shall not appear before God empty-handed, but each with his own gift, according to the blessing that your Lord God has bestowed upon you. Bear in mind that you were slaves in Egypt, and take care to obey these laws.  

 But the translation in this version of JPS on Sefaria, “Bear in mind” comes from that same root, zachor, to remember. 

We make kiddush on Shabbat evening and festivals to remember two things, Creation and the Exodus from Egypt.  

What does it mean to remember: 

“have in or be able to bring to one’s mind an awareness of (someone or something that one has seen, known, or experienced in the past).” 

Passover works this way. It is layered with memory. We remember the year we first asked the four questions. We remember polishing silver and swirling matzah balls. We remember the year the power went out. We remember the year we didn’t have enough chairs. We remember the year someone had a litte more than four cups of wine. We remember that we were slaves in Egypt that each of us went forth out of Mitzrayim, the narrow places. But wait, you say, none of us were present. That may be true. But each of us have gone forth from something. The year we had cancer. The year we didn’t have a job. The year we were getting a divorce. The year we moved. Whatever that narrow place was. All of the seder is designed to get children to ask, Why? Why are you doing this? This isn’t what we usually do. This is the answer we give the children. “It is because of what the Lord did for me, when I went forth from Egypt.” It’s personal.  

Today we also read the 13 attributes of the Divine. It is a portion I have thought about a lot. It was, in fact, my Bat mitzvah portion and the reason I became a rabbi. Many people think that Judaism is a religion of law and Christianity is about love. But no, when G-d hid Moses in the cleft of the rock and made all G-d’s goodness pass before him, we are told that G-d is merciful and compassionate, full of lovingkindness (chesed), slow to anger (patient) and forgiving of iniquity, transgression and sin.  

My Passover reading is Rabbi Shai Held’s new book Judaism is about Love. His goal is to answer the question that we are all loved, that Judaism is a religion of love. He begins by looking at the words rachum and chesed, both part of the Thirteen Attributes. I am looking forward to reading the whole book and sharing insights with you. 

My new insight, based on a close reading of today’s text is this. At the very beginning, all the way back in Genesis, we learn that G-d created man and woman, zachar and nekevah, male and female. But look at that word zachar. Is it related to zachor, remember. Perhaps. Perhaps then, what distinguishes us from all the other creatures is the ability for us to remember.  

I am not alone in noticing this connection.  

Rav S. R. Hirsch writes (comm. to Ex. 23:17): “The special function of [males] … is zocher, to form the chain of tradition of the human race, by which the achievements of each age are handed down from generation to generation.” Similarly, Rav Matityahu Clark, in his Etymological Dictionary of Biblical Hebrew (a book based on the commentaries of Rav Hirsch) defines Z-Ch-R as “male; bearer of tradition.” Or it could be thinking about the male anatomy, something we remember is something that pierces the mind. Hebrew is a gendered language. In the old days, it was only men who had the responsibility to say kaddish. Who can forget the scene in Yentle when the group is asked who will say kaddish for Yentle’s father and Streisand answered that she would. In the old days, sons were actually called kaddishes, the persons who would say kaddish for a parent. These days, including this congregation, men and women both say kaddish. The act of saying kaddish helps us to remember.  

 If, as we suggest, we are to become like G-d, in Latin imitatio dei, to imitate G-d, remembering is something G-d does. While the word may not always be zachor, sometimes it is pakad. G-d took note, G-d remembered, G-d counted, it is clear that G-d remembers. When G-d remembers it is an act of lovingkindness, gemilut chasadim, it is an act of compassion, 

 Perhaps the act of remembering is really an act of chesed, an act of lovingkindness. It is how we keep the memory of our loved ones alive, present. It is how we become like G-d. 

 It is that spirit in which I enter yizkor today. 

I’ve been preparing for Passover since February. While this was a year with a leap month, it was necessary. First the Hakol monthly bulletin deadline was February 15, just like always. Announcements of seders, chamatz selling etc had to be done. Then the Academy for Jewish Religion announced it was putting out a haggadah supplement, Seder Interrupted. I submitted a piece that was accepted. It is avsilable on Amazon and as a pdf download, (https://ajr.edu/forms/haggadah-supplement-download/)  and even if the seders themselves are completed for this year, the texts are still relevant.  

This is a Passover like no other. At least not in my lifetime. Parts of the seder resonate so deeply. What is freedom? How do we achieve freedom? What does it mean to “let all who are hungry come and eat? What is our responsibility to feed the hungry? Can we drink wine? Can we rejoice at all? How do we appropriately remember the hostages in this context? What does even opening a door mean when on October 7th people struggled to hold doors closed to their safe rooms? Should we have a seder at all? What about safety and security concerns? Oy! 

And yet, we must. Even in the people of Israel’s darkest days we have found ways to remember, to tell the story, to sing songs, to ask questions and demand answers, to dare to dream, to dare to hope for a better world.  

I have been involved in 4 seders. Each class at Torah School learned blessings and we stitched it all together. They tasted two kinds of parsley, three kinds of matzah and two kinds of charoset. Then I attended the Govenor’s Seder where I delivered a copy of Seder Interrupted. It was very poignant and deeply meaningful to be with our elected officials and some of our leading Jewish professionals from throughout Illinois. And like we did at our community seder in Elgin, we were joined by some clergy of other faiths. That was one of the most soulful renditions of Hatikvah I have ever heard, song by a black pastor who had recently song it on an IDF military base. Hatikvah means The Hope. The whole event brought me hope. 

My home seder was almost as I have always imagined it in this home. We rented our home with visions of large Passover seders. But the pandemic interrupted that, then my bone marrow transplant. Passover is the most celebrated American Jewish holiday. There are layers and layers of memories and feelings. No one will forget this year either. To the food, many of our traditional dishes, chopped liver, matzah ball soup gefilte fish (jarred), chocolate covered matzah, we added Israeli chicken and Israeli salad. But its not really about the food. It is about the words of the Haggadah and coming together as family and friends. We did all of that. And it is really amazing to watch Jack, my other brother from another mother, run a Passover kitchen. And Kevin wash dishes just as quickly as Jack.  

Over and over again the words resonate. “Let all who are hungry come and eat.” “Our ancestors were wandering Arameans.” The role of Shifrah and Puah, the midwives who helped birth the baby boys, just like my doctor’s mother and aunt did in Athens during the war. The words of Anne Frank. The words of Martin Niemöller. They came for the Jews and I didn’t speak up…in light of rising anti-semitism and protests of college campuses. “G-d heard their groans and G-d remembered the covenant.” Will G-d remember the hostages? The plagues and the piece that I wrote. A drop of blood, A drop of wine…too many to count this year. These words: “O G-d teach us to rejoice in freedom, but not in its cost for us and our enemies. Let there come a day when violence is not more and we shall be free to rejoice without sadness, to sing without tears.” 

We talked about the orange. Both versions. We actually ate the orange. That was a first for me. We opened the door for Elijah and read Alden Solovy’s powerful poem that Elijah will not come this year. (Really has he come any year? Every year we wait for him. Every year we are reminded that the work of redemption is up to us). And then that seder was over. 

The synagogue seder had 75 people. The tables were beautiful. We added certain elements to meet the moment. Bracelets like those of University of Michigan Hillel that say “We will dance again. Am Yisrael Chai.” So many of the wounded, the captured, the dead were dancing at a music festival and they have taken up that cry. We provided tambourines like Miriam had and we sang with gusto. We left a chair empty. For all those who could not attend. All those hostages. We placed a photo of Omri Miran, the cousin of Simon’s niece, still being held hostage and we tied it with yellow ribbon. We painted our nails yellow as Hadassah suggested to remember. The children danced with our omer offering. Day One. Did we hit the right notes? The right balance? Others will have to say.  

There is one more thing about this Passover that is worth talking about, In some traditional Haggadahs just before the opening of the door for Elijah there is a reading called Sh’foch Chamatcha. Pour out Your Wrath. A congregant came to me and said, “Isn’t this a good year to use this prayer.” I was not so familiar with this prayer. Often it is not included in family haggadahs, brevity after dinner being important. It can rankle theologically. It feels a little too “G-d is on our side.” or G-d as warrior G-d for me to be comfortable with.  I decided I would use it as the basis of the Fast of the First Born Siyyum.  

I learned a lot. This prayer first appears in the Machzor Vitry. It consisted first of just four verses, four being a good Haggadah number!Six additional verses are attributed to Rashi. They are in a 13th century English Haggadah and also to Menachem Meiri and in Spain, thus supporting a theory that they were in response to the crusades. And not surprisingly, there are many variations in custom, as is true for much of Judaism, so not entirely surprising I was less familiar with it. To our modern ears, many have felt it inappropriate to call for G-d’s wrath, in many of the same arguments as with Aleinu. But I found one that was especially important to highlight even as the JPS Commentary of the Haggadah says, “one could almost call a hoax” Chayyim Bloch (1881-1971) cites an unusual version in a manuscript Haggadah that was compiled in 1591 and lost during the Holocaust, except for his notes. But like Rav Abraham Issac Kook taught that the antidote for sinat chinam, baseless hatred is ahavat chinam, baseless love, this reading seems to call G-d to pour out G-d’s love!  

Pour Out Your Wrath and Pour Out Your Love 

Pour out Your love on the nations that know You
And on the kingdoms that call upon Your Name 

For the lcvingkindness that they perform with Jacob
And their defense of the People of Israel 

In the face of those that would devour them.
May they be privileged to see
The Sukkah of peace spread for Your chosen ones
And rejoice in the Joy of Your nations
Chayyim Block (1881-1973) based on a prayer in a manuscript haggadah complied in 1521 and then lost in the Holocaust. (T’ruah, the rabbinic call for human rights) 

I took that message to heart and compiled my own version, drawing heavily on the 13 attributes of the Divine, which talks about G-d’s love. G-d’s limitless love.  

Pour out Your Wrath and Pour out Your love 

Pour out Your Wrath, yes, and also 

Pour out Your compassion 

Pour out Your graciousness 

Pour out Your patience 

Pour out Your kindness 

Extend it to the thousandth generations 

We are the 1000th generation. 

Forgive us, our inequity, our transgressions, our sins. 

Forgive our fears 

And yes,  

Pour out Your love 

Pour out Your chesed. 

On them…and on us. 

Give us Your strength 

For You are our might, and our strength and our song. 

Then, and only then,  

We might be able to build a world on love 

To sing of a world of Your love. 

Then and only then, 

We might be able to have safety 

Only then may we open the door 

Welcoming Elijah 

Where the hearts of the children are turned to the parents 

Where the hearts of the parents are turned to the children 

Open the door to  

A world of peace  

Where everyone may sit under their vine and fig tree  

And none will make us afraid.  

Pour out Your Wrath and Pour out Your love 

L’shanah ha’ba’ah b’rushalim. 

Last week, I pulled down College Street, only to find it was closed. What was the city doing? As it turns out, they were replacing the old pipes leading into houses. These were the pipes that had lead fittings. It was a mess.  

But it is so important. After a 100 years, these pipes were leaching lead into the drinking water. Lead poisoning is a known problem, especially for children under six. Lead poisoning occurs when lead builds up in the body. Even small amounts of lead can cause serious health issues. It can lead to serious mental and physical developmental delays. It can even be fatal. Often we think about it in terms of old lead based paint. Little kids love to gnaw on things like window sills and other wood. When you sell a house you need to certify that there is no lead paint.  

 We at CKI had already taken steps to mitigate as much of the risk as possible. We went to bottled water for drinking, added filters to the sinks in the kitchen for food preparation and dish washing and then we added a bottle filling station. 

We are pleased that the city is taking the steps necessary to mitigate the risk. We all remember the photos from Flint, and we don’t want to become another Flint. Between April 25, 2014, and October 15, 2015, about 99,000 residents of Flint were exposed to lead when Flint switched its water source from the Detroit Water Authority and the Flint Water System. The risk fell disproportionately on people of color, and those who couldn’t afford access to good medical care, and good, pure drinking water. It illustrated something we talk about a lot. Who is in the camp and who is outside the camp. 

Pure water is important. On this the Shabbat closest to Earth Day, it is important to talk about water. 

In our parsha this week, we talk about how  the priests would help people become pure again after a skin disease, how they could re-enter the camp. That had to do with mayyim hayyim, living water, pure water.  As you may remember I worked at Mayyim Hayyim, the community based mikveh with the same name as this phrase. Water has the ability to clean, to sustain, to heal, to inspire. 

I have begun taking a class from Institute for Jewish Spirituality, taught by Rabbi Toba Spitzer. She wrote a book called God is Here. She examines other ways to look at G-d besides all powerful, all knowing, all good. The first week we are looking at G-d as water. She gave us seven verses.  

“God created humankind in Its image, in the image of God It created it, male and female did God create them. (Genesis 1:26) Up to 60% of the human body is water, the brain is composed of 70% water, and the lungs are nearly 90% water.(U.S. Geological Survey)”  

Since we are mostly water, and we are created in the image of the Divine, b’tzelem elohim, every time we look on the face of another, we are seeing G-d! 

Her fifth and seventh Biblical example seem related to me: “As the deer longs for water streams, so does my soul long for You, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God; when shall I come and appear before God? My tears have been my bread day and night, while they continually say to me, “Where is your God? When I remember these things, I pour out my soul…O my God, my soul is cast down within me, therefore I think of You in this land of Jordan and Hermon, from Mount Mizar. Deep calls to deep at the noise of Your cataracts; all Your waves and Your billows have swept over me.(Psalm 42-2-8) 

You care for the earth and water it; You greatly enrich it with the river of God, which is fullof water…You water her furrows abundantly; You settle her ridges; You make it soft withshowers; You bless its growth. You crown the year with your goodness; and Your paths drop fatness. The pastures of the wilderness drip; and the hills rejoice on every side. (Psalm 65:8-13) 

We long for water, we long for G-d to quench our thirst. And as G-d cares for the earth, we have an obligation also to care for the earth, for water, for G-d. 

Passover, too has its references to water. The salt water with the parsley, reminiscent of the tears. Crossing the Sea of Reeds to freedom, out of the narrow places and yes, the newer tradition of Miriam’s Cup. Finding pure water to drink in the desert is hard to do. Moses struck a rock twice and was punished for it. Miriam, whose very name means bitter waters, had a knack for finding water. Many families now add a cup of pure, spring water to their tables to reflect Miriam’s well.  

Lastly, it is during Passover, that we add the prayer for dew. On the first morning of Passover, we recite a special prayer, Tefilat Tal, the prayer for dew. Beginning next Shabbat in our community, it is reflected in our Amidah prayer. No longer do we add “mashive haruach u’morid ha geshem” Some add in their private meditation, “morid hatal, who brings down the dew”  

The prayer is one of two times in the year when Jews recite special prayers for precipitation. The other is in the fall, at the end of the holiday of Sukkot, when a prayer for rain, Tefillat Geshem, is recited. 

This prayer always reminds me of Honi the Circle Drawer. We usually think of Honi as the one who find the old man planting a carob tree. Why plant it if you will not benefit from it. The answer, for our children and grandchildren. But Honi gets his name because he prays to G-d for rain. He draws a circle and tells G-d he will not move until it rained. It began to drizzle. He told G-d he wasn’t satisfied. Then it began to pour. Still he was not satisfied. He wanted a calm rain. It then began to rain gently. (Ta’anit 19a and 23b) 

In our pasha today, mayyim hayyim, living waters, were used by the priest to purify, to cleanse, to heal and to forgive. Our tradition is not the ohly one who sees water as a source of repentance and healing. In the Buddhist tradition, the Water Repentance liturgy was written during the Tang Dynasty and used by the imperial Dhama Master Wu Da to heal a growth on his knee that was shaped like a human face. Participants in this ceremony repent following this sutra. It is also apparently considered a beneficial act to share the merits of the ritual with the deceased. Sound familiar? 

One of my favorite books for preparation for Yom Kippur, Repentance by Dr. Louis Newman contains this quote: 

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

Water. It’s important.  

When you pass through water, 

I will be with you; 

Through streams, 

They shall not overwhelm you. 

When you walk through fire, 

You shall not be scorched; 

Through flame, 

It shall not burn you. 

For I the ETERNAL am your God, 

The Holy One of Israel, your Savior. 

I give Egypt as a ransom for you, 

Cush and Saba in exchange for you. 

Because you are precious to Me, 

And honored, and I love you, 

I give people in exchange for you 

And nations in your stead. 

Fear not, for I am with you: 

I will bring your folk from the East, 

Will gather you out of the West; 

Isaiah 43 

On this Shabbat, this brings me hope. Next year in Jerusalem. Next year all the world redeemed. 

It is a great honor to be asked to do an invocation at the State House. In 12 years this is my second trip to Springfield for this. At some point while waiting to be on the podium I realized that I have now lived in Illinois for 18 years, 6 as a young girl in Evanston and 12 as a rabbi in Elgin.

Here is my prayer:

From the time of Jeremiah the prophet, about 2500 years ago, Jews have prayed for their leaders and advisors, wherever they have lived, whoever the government of the day has been. 

Today I stand before you, our elected officials and pray. I pray for courage. It takes courage to be a leader. To give up time with family and friends  To take a risk. Sadly, we know just how real that risk can be. Not only as an elected official as we have seen with Rep Gabby Giffords and Rep. Scalise, but for your staffs and families, for judges and their families across this nation. You ran for office because you wanted to represent the people of Illinois—all the people of Illinois. You ran for office because you wanted to make a difference.  

Today I pray for each of you, that you continue to make wise decisions on behalf of this great state.  

Today I pray for patience and strength when others disagree with you, when you need to reach across the aisle and build consensus and coalitions.  

Today I pray for the budgeting process. That you remember our obligations to the widow, the orphan, the stranger, the most vulnerable amongst us. 

Today I pray for our children, all our children, that they have the opportunity to grow up as leaders, that they have appropriate role models like you. 

Today. I pray for our schools that they continue to educate our kids, all of our kids,  The kids are worth it. 

Today, I pray for our social service agencies to continue to provide critical, emergency services like shelter, mental health services, and access to health care. 

Today I pray for our faith communities that come together and help with mutual understanding and respect. 

Today I pray for our first responders who are tasked with keeping all of you safe. And me and my community too. 

Today I pray for each of you. That the vision you have of this state, a model to so many other states, part of that American dream, will not diminished. 

Today I share these words, even more poignant today… 

“Our G-d and G-d of our ancestors: We ask Your blessings for our country—for its government, for its leaders and advisors and for all who exercise just and rightful authority. Teach them insights from your Torah, that they may administer all affairs of state fairly, that peace and security, happiness and prosperity, justice and freedom may forever abide in our midst. 

Creator of all flesh, bless all the inhabitants of our country with Your spirit. May citizens of all races and creeds forge a common bond in true harmony, to banish hatred and bigotry, and to safeguard the ideals and free institutions that are the pride and glory of our country. 

 May this land, under your providence, be an influence for good throughout the world, uniting all people in peace and freedom—helping them fulfill the vision of Your prophet—National shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they experience war any more.” And let us say: Amen.” (Siddur Sim Shalom page 148)

And today I add an extra prayer, a prayer for peace that as George Washington said to the Hebrew congregation in Newport, RI in 1790, that “For happily the Government of the United States, which gives to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance. Then quoting the prophet Micah, “may there come a day when everyone may sit under their vine and their fig tree and none shall make them afraid. Ufros Aleinu Sukkat Shlomecha, spread over us the shelter, that fragile sukkah, of Your peace. Oseh shalom bimromav…May the G-d who makes peace in the High Heavens, make peace here on earth, speedily and in our day.

What I discovered. People are kind here. I got lost finding the parking lot. No problem. Police helped. I got lost finding the clerk’s office (I followed the signs but they have changed the inside. A senator, an elevator man and finally someone in Room 402 walked me to 420,, the clerk’s office, which I never would have found. Then it was back to 402 for badging. People held open doors. The hotel is shockingly clean. (And I told them so) The front desk printed for me and loaned me a file folder. And people thanked me for my prayer. Including the Palestinian representative. Somewhere there is a photo of that.  Yes, people can be kind.

I’ve always been a political junkie. And a news junkie. It comes from being in Grand Rapids in the 70s when Ford was the President and I was the diversity for the Girl Scouts. Yet, my mother always said we shouldn’t t talk about religion or politics in public. It is, however, exactly what I do as a rabbi. I believe that part of the Torah was to help us create a moral, ethical society. You only need to look at the Holiness Code, Leviticus 19. How do we “love our neighbors as ourselves?” How do we take care of the widow, the orphan, the stranger? The most marginalized amongst us. That’s the job to the legislature to set policy, to make laws and to budget fairly. That’s why it was important to be in Springfield to do this invocation.

I believe in separation of church and state. I believe that we should not establish at state religion. I believe that praying at the opening of governmental meetings is complicated. I have been in interfaith organizations that have decried this whole process. I have read much of the Supreme Court rulings on this. However, if the legislature is giving me, and by extension the congregation a seat at the table, it is important for me to be visible. It was also a good opportunity to network with legislators, and thank them for adding Illinois money to the homeland security grant money that may, just may keep us all safer in this age of rising anti-semitism.

Yes, today was a good day.

Once upon a time, in the old days, rabbis only gave sermons (or d’vrei Torah or drashes) twice per year. On Shabbat Hagadol, before Passover to tell you how to prepare with much exactitude. And on Shabbat Shuvah to tell you how to repent before Yom Kippur. Today is Shabbat HaHodesh, about two weeks from Passover, more time to prepare.  

We’ve just read a list of the things we can and can not eat as Jews. Much ink has been spilled through the millenia about why G-d gave these commandments and why they are important.  

What we read is some times called Biblical Kashrut. People who say they keep Biblical Kashrut may avoid pork and shellfish and other non-kosher animals as described in today’s portion. Camel anyone? I thought not. But they may mix chicken and milk. Anyone ever boil a chicken in it’s mother’s milk? I thought not. Chickens don’t give milk!  

Here at CKI we have a kosher kitchen, and Simon and I have one at home. We are not the only people at CKI who do. And there are those who don’t but want to make sure that CKI does. There are many reasons for that. I’ve heard things like so anyone can eat here. Because we are Jews. Because it is how we’ve always done it. Because it draws us closer to G-d.  

We run this kitchen to CRC standards. The Chicago Rabbinical Council. CRC is one of the organizations that certifies kashrut. Here is their Pesach Guide. https://consumer.crckosher.org/pesach/  

You are probably most familiar with OU. You know the circle with a U in the middle. I was fascinated by a book called Kosher Nation by Sue Fishkoff. Part of the growth in kashrut certification of late comes from people who are not Jewish. Muslims trust the certifcation for meat. Vegans for parve. I didn’t grow up kosher. In fact, in my seventh grade religious school class taught by my mom and my rabbi we learned that Kashrut was an outmoded form of Judaism as we learned about blue and red soap. That’s not Biblical Kashrut! I didn’t know anyone who kept kosher until I went to college. (Ask me some other time about my first kosher Duncan Hines brownies for Hillel!) 

Are you familiar with the term Ethical Kashrut? It is a way to eat for Jews that takes into account the treatment of the farm workers and the animals themselves. It ia way to take the values and morals of keeping Kosher and make them relevant today.  

https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/ethical-kashrut/ 

Ironically, this piece is written by Rabbi Shmuly Yanklowitch, a modern Orthodox rabbi in Phoenix, one of the brightest and most compassionate people I know. He also believes that veganism is an even more authentic Judaism. More on that, much more on that in May.

Much of what we do here at CKI is based on Talmudic and later codes like the Shulchan Arukh. We use Kosher meat. We use kosher wine and kosher cheese. And I can do most of the shopping right here in the Rox River Valley. Some people tell me they are scared to shop or scared to use the kitchen. They don’t want to make a mistake. My job is to help you feel comfortable. And competent.

Much of what we do is in the category of a chumra, a fence around the Torah. We have one in today’s portion. Passover is an eight day holiday, right? No, according to the Torah it is a seven-day holiday. The rabbis of the Talmud added an extra day so we would know for sure we were celebrating on the right day. And so most Jews out of the land of Israel celebrate Passover (and also Sukkot) for eight days.  

Many of you are preparing already for Passover, where even more exacting lengths are taken to insure “keeping Passover.” But which Passover? The extra reading today was clear. You need Lamb, bitter herbs and matzah. Pretty simple, right? No mention of Kosher for Passover brownies, Dr. Brown’s Cherry Soda or Kosher for Passover ketchup.  

Why is corn not OK but quinoa OK? Both are new world grains. Yet we persist in this year after year. Tradition, tradition! But whose? And why? Why, it’s the way “we’ve” always done it. It’s anthropology. We cling to what we remember, what’s comfortable and what ties us to generations past. It’s anthropology.  

We often joke about the idea of two Jews and three opinions. We know that there are differences between Ashkanazi Jews and Sephardic Jews. In Haftarah readings. In how we pronounce Hebrew.  in the prayers in our standard liturgy. And perhaps most notably in how Jews eat for Passover. That doesn’t make either camp less Jewish. We are all Jews. As a rabbi I get very tired of people telling me that so and so isn’t Jewish or Jewish enough because they don’t do alef, bet or gimmel. Trust me. You are all Jewish. Trust me, you are all doing Jewish. 

In Israel they had a problem. Particularly with Passover there is a tension between how Ashkenazi Jews do Passover and how Sephardic Jews do Passover. Sephardic Jews have always allowed a category of food known as Kitinyot. Essentially beans and rice. Even at our “kosher Jewel,” you find signs that say “OK for Sephardim”  

In 2015 the Conservative Movement echoing a responsa from the Masorti Movement in Israel written by Rabbi David Golinkin ruled that it is OK for Ashkanazim to eat kitinyot for Passover.  

CJLS Teshuvah, 2015, Conclusion and Psak Halakhah: 

In order to bring down the cost of making Pesah and support the healthier diet that is now becoming more common, and given the inapplicability today of the primary concerns that seem to have led to the custom of prohibiting kitniyot, and further, given our inclination in our day to present an accessible Judaism unencumbered by unneeded prohibitions, more easily able to participate in the culture that surrounds us, we are prepared to rely on the fundamental observance recorded in the Talmud and codes and permit the eating of kitniyot on Pesah. 

The full teshuvah is here.  

https://www.rabbinicalassembly.org/sites/default/files/assets/public/halakhah/teshuvot/2011-2020/Levin-Reisner-Kitniyot.pdf 

For me, it is important to note that even in the 1500s when the original prohibition went into effect, rabbis thought it was too much of a fence around the Torah. But this is Judaism and even in the Conservative Movement there is room for dissent:  

https://www.rabbinicalassembly.org/sites/default/files/public/halakhah/teshuvot/2011-2020/Dissenting%20opinion%20-%20FINAL%20-%20Kitniyot.pdf  

So what do we do at CKI? We are not affiliated with the Conservative Movement at this stage. Many people have opinions on this topic of kitinot. So as we have done for several years, we continue to adhere to it at CKI for the Community seder and the Oneg Shabbat and Kiddush during Passover. What you choose to do in your own home is your choice. It is a sign of your freedom. But please, please be kind and don’t tell someone that what they are doing or not doing isn’t Jewish.  

And when you see the sign that says call your local rabbi, feel free to call me. But not before 7AM or after 9PM.

On Monday we have a very special opportunity to see a wonder of the natural world. An eclipse. Perhaps some of you have made plans to travel to the path of totality. Others of you may be here in Chicagoland. The weather is sounding better than it has been this past week and we may actually get to see it! Here in Chicagoland they believe we will be between 90% and 95%. It should be “awesome,” in the true sense of that word. 

But the ancients, who were away of eclipses found them scary. A bad omen. A sign of things that are worse to come. There isn’t even a blessing for an eclipse. In 2017 I spoke at length about this, https://www.theenergizerrabbi.org/2017/08/22/finding-joy-in-sight-reah/ And I  went to University of Chicago to watch it myself with myself. Be very careful. Use those glasses. Be safe. I plan to pack a picnic of moon foods; oreo cookies, black and white cookies, cheese, pizza and finally on the way home, vanilla ice cream with dark chocolate sauce.  I want the snacks to be simple–and memorable. The next eclipse isn’t until 2044.

Wait, no blessing for an eclipse? That makes no sense. There is even a blessing for an earthquake as people learned today. There are actually two from the Talmud: Berachot 54a: 

Baruch Atta Ado-nai Elo-hai-nu Melech ha’olam osei ma’asei vereisheet.
בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה’ אֱ-לֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם עוֹשֶׂה מַעֲשֵׂה בְרֵאשִׁית
translation: Blessed are You, Lord our G‑d, Ruler of the universe, who reenacts the works of creation. 

Baruch Atta Ado-nai Elo-hai-nu Melech ha’olam shekocho ugevurato malei olam.
בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה’ אֱ-לֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם שֶׁכֹּחוֹ וּגְבוּרָתוֹ מָלֵא עוֹלָם
translation: Blessed are You, Lord our G‑d, Ruler of the universe, whose power and might fill the world. 

This leads to another question. This translation of Baruch is Blessed. That’s my preferred translation. Siddur Sim Shalom consistently uses “Praised.” A couple of the haggadot I am reviewing seem to alternate. This is jarring to me. Do you hear a difference between blessed and praised? When we look at the Barchu, the formal call to worship, the first word is barchu, in the command form. Praise G-d. Bless G-d. You bless G-d. Then the echo is Blessed or Praised are You… Does G-d need our blessing, our praise? Our kids once described this call and response, the call to worship as “Here I am G-d, ready or not here I come.” 

The paragraph after the Barchu is a prayer about creation. In the evening service it is called “Ma’ariv Aravim.” and it is quite poetic in the Hebrew. The G-d who evenings the evening. The G-d who makes evening. Who rolls light away from darkness and darkness away from light. Who alternates the seasons and set the stars on their appointed rounds.” 

Acknowledging the Creator, especially at a time of possible dread, seems appropriate. So Ma’ariv Aravim could be a choice for the eclipse. Another could be the shehechianu said for many firsts and for many things we have not done in a long time. Witnessing an eclipse, not seen by many of us since 2017 would qualify:
 

Blessed are You, Ruler of the Universe, who has kept us alive and sustained us and enabled us to reach this very moment.  

But let’s pause for a moment. If we were writing our own blessing what would it say: 

Blessed are You, Ruler of the Universe, of Time and Space, who creates the greater light to rule by day and the lesser by night, who creates ongoing beauty and enables us to witness it without fear, who allows us the knowledge to understand that the sun will return again.  

Interestingly, Roger Price wrote a very similar piece last summer for RitualWell: https://ritualwell.org/blog/solar-eclipse-deserves-blessing/?goal=0_29b2b1aacf-5b39afaa9b-62609181&mc_cid=5b39afaa9b&mc_eid=36d93702de  

Note: After delivering this on Friday, I learned that the Conservative Movement in their exploring Judaism had published something on the eclipse in 2021. They use the same two blessings as for an earthquake: https://www.exploringjudaism.org/learning/halakhah/cjls/orach-chayim/what-blessing-do-i-recite-over-an-eclipse/ 

Note #2: Our congregation has a vision statement that includes lifelong learning as one for its planks. After I wrote this I learned that a eclipse cannot happen unless it is a new moon. Rosh Hodesh Nissan begins Monday night! It makes perfect sense. So another blessing might be the hopes which we expressed on Shabbat in the “Announcing the New Month, page 150 in Siddur Sim Shalom. May this ew month reawaken in us joy and blessing. A peaceful life with goodness and blessing, sustenance and physical vitality…May the Holy One bless this new month with life and peace, joy and gladness, deliverance and consolation.” (I would be more than OK if those hopes went for more than the month!)

Leviticus is tough. Some don’t like it at all. Why do we bother to read it? Why did the Israelites offer sacrifices? Why did much of it address the priests, the cohanim? What does it have to do with us? Who cares?  

One of the simple answers is hidden in the text tells us, G-d spoke to Moses saying. So if G-d said so, it must be important. Sort of like when a kid asks her  mother why do I have to and the mom answers, “Because I said so.” But that isn’t satisfactory to the child and isn’t to us. 

There are several words for sacrifice. Korban comes from the root, “To draw close.” How do we draw close to G-d today? We recite prayers, we light candles, we bake challah, we perform rituals, we sing, we meditate. We open our hearts. And sometimes we have a flash of insight, we sense that G-d is close. But those moments seem fleeting. The rituals are designed to allow us to more consistently experience the Divine. 

The translation in Etz Hayyim say that “this is the ritual of the sacrifice of well-being. The word is actually Torat zevah shlomim.” But here the word Torah doesn’t mean Torah scroll. Rather it comes from the same root that means to aim, direct, to cast,, shoot, which becomes to show the way, to instruct. So these are the rituals. A way to draw close to G-d.

Another word is avodah. Avodah comes from the root that means sacrifice, service, work. We are told in Pirke Avot that the world is sustained by three things: Al shlosha devarim. Al HaTorah, Al ha’avodah, Al gemilut chasadim. On Torah, On sacrifice, On acts of lovingkindness. What can we offer G-d? What does G-d need from us? Maybe the better question is what can we offer each other? 

One more term for today: zevach shlomim. According to Etz Hayim it is an offering of well-being. Shlomim comes from the same root as shalom, which we know means hello, good bye and peace but comes from a sense of wholeness, completeness. It is like when we offer the mi sheberach prayer and wish someone a refua shlema, a full, complete healing.  

The Oxford online Dictionary defines well-being as the state of being comfortable, healthy, or happy. “an improvement in the patient’s well-being” 

So a zevah shlomim offers us an opportunity to feel that sense of happiness, contentment, fullness.  

The next phrase in our text is zevach todah, an offering of thanksgiving. We know the word todah from modern Hebrew. Todah means thanks. These offerings give us an opportunity to feel gratitude, to say thank you. To G-d, to our fellows, to the word at large. Because we know from modern research that gratitude leads to that sense of wholeness, of fullness, of drawing close to G-d.  

Rabbi Jennifer Singer reminded me that what Leviticus is begging us to do is to draw close to G-d, to think beyond ourselves with acts of lovingkindness,, to live every day fully, completely. She says, “And we live every day as if it matters. Because it does. My little corner of the world feels safe and calm, but there are people and events swirling around us that are roiling the seas and sending tidal waves of fear and grief. Even here, I feel it. Tendrils of hatred filter into my world and as much as I would like to withdraw, I cannot. We cannot.”  

Then she adds one of my favorite stories from the Talmud.  “Yohanan ben Zakkai, once said: “If you are holding a sapling in your hand and someone tells you, ‘Come quickly, the Messiah is here!’ first finish planting the tree and then go to greet the Messiah.” 

Come draw close to G-d. Come do acts of lovingkindness. Come plant a sapling. Come help bring the Messiah. This weekend and every weekend.