Today is the fifth day of the counting of the omer. We are still focused on love and lovingkindness, chesed. But today adds the sense of humility, hod. Today is hod b’chesed. Hod is another word that is hard to translate. It comes with a meaning of majesty and spender, prayer and submission. I’ve been thinking a lot about Rabbi Everett Gendler and how he was a role model for me. Not only did he teach about the omer with his concrete exercise of planting winter wheat or rye but he was the one who taught me that a rabbi needs to trust his or her board and not go to every meeting. He was the one who very much was a collaborative leader, working with a congregation and not just using his power and authority as the trained professional. He was the one who would say that a rabbi is someone who can move the tables and chairs (and turn the heat on in New England). He didn’t ask his congregants to do anything he wasn’t willing to do himself. Having that kind of a leader, who exhibited humility, we all grew. Having that kind of leader, we got to see his humility and his majesty. In May Rabbi Everett Gendler will be honored by T’ruah, the formerly Rabbis for Human Rights, North America with their Human Rights Hero award. I can’t think of someone more deserving. This is a man who marched with Martin Luther King, who has worked on Israeli-Palestinian reconciliation and who travels each year to work in India. He does all this in a quiet unassuming way. He does it because it is the right thing to do.
Hod, because it is about humility and submission is also about forgiveness. Think for a minute about who you might need to forgive. Being able to ask for forgiveness can be hard to do. It means being humble and admitting that we made a mistake and that we will try to not do it again. It takes courage. The rewards can be well worth it. Think about who you may need to reconcile with and how it might make your love stronger. For me it is usually about making peace at home. I should not take my husband and daughter for granted and too often do. So I will try to be humble today, and ask their forgiveness. Usually the hurts are slight and unintentional but they build up over time.
Today is also Easter Sunday. Yesterday we read the haftarah for Passover, Ezekiel 37 with its vision of the dry bones coming back to life. Last year, this weekend on the Hebrew calendar I got an excited call from a good friend and a teacher in our religious school. A Holocaust teacher. She had just heard these words for the first time and wondered why we read them Easter weekend. “Do Jews believe in resurrection?” Yes, I assured her. Take a look at the g’vurot prayer for example. Both the lines from Ezekiel and g’vurot are part of where resurrection comes from. There is a belief that when the Messiah comes, we will be resurrected during Passover. The question becomes whether this is for individual people or for a nation. On the exit gate of Yad V’shem, they use a verse from this very Haftarah, “I will put my breath into you and you will live again. I will set you upon your own soil. (Ezekiel 37:14).
I know that there are many non-Jewish readers of my blog, so for those of you celebrating Easter today, may it be a time of rebirth and renewal, a return to spring and a time when my people and your people can continue to work for the day of reconciliation, peace and harmony. Then we will have reached a time of hod b’chesed, humility in lovingkindess, when it won’t matter what separates us as much as what unites us.

Today is the fourth day of the counting of the omer. Last night we talked about omer at shul, we looked at the tender shoots of omer harvested just before Shabbat. We looked at one of my favorite verses, Or zarua l’tzadik. Light is sown for the righteous, joy for the upright of heart. The word for sown comes from the same root as seed. Light is planted for the righteous, righteousness comes before joy. It is a perfect verse for the omer. The themes of Passover continue to linger as we journey onto Shavuot.

During Ma’ariv Aravim, we found three words that can be connected with Passover, umsedar, G-d who orders the stars, lilah, night which appears in the four questions, and chosech, darkness which was one of the ten plagues.

After reading the “silent meditation” which includes a line about “the liberating joy of Shabbat,” I asked what freedom meant to each of us.
It was an erudite group. Someone spoke of Janis Joplin’s song, “Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose.” We thought maybe that was enough and we could all go home. Another saw freedom as the ability to choose your own prison. One quoted Franklin D. Roosevelt, freedom includes the four freedoms: “freedom of speech, freedom of worship, freedom from want, freedom from fear.” Since Roosevelt saw four, I wondered why it is not included in more haggadot.

Still another quoted the poem Invictus (I had to look that up!), Freedom is the ability to be “the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.” At which point our youngest davvener said, “Freedom is what he said, but he said it better.” When prodded she said that freedom is being able to choose what you want to do when you want to do it. I added that I learned that freedom really means the ability to take a nap. Slaves do not have that option. We talked about the word avadim, slaves in Hebrew, and how the word for work, worship and sacrifice come from the same shores, ayin, bet, dalet. Did the Israelites exchange slavery for serving Adonai? How does this change our opinion of what happened?

In shul today we read my Bat Mitzvah portion, which includes the 13 Attributes of the Divine. This portion has sustained me for almost 40 years. (Is that possible?) It is part of how I became a rabbi and then I wrote a thesis on it. Today in the counting is Netzach b’chesed. Netzach is used in L’dor v’dor, netzach netzachhim. It carries with it the sense of eternity. So this is everlasting lovingkindness. The portion talks about this topic a couple of ways. Moses doesn’t want to go back up the mountain. He is weary. This is a stiff-necked, stubborn people. He wants to make sure G-d has some skin in the game, after all they are G-d’s people, not Moses’s. And who is this G-d anyway? G-d reassures Moses that G-d will go with him and lighten the burden and give Moses rest. We all need that reassurance. The fact that G-d promises Moses gives me hope in my own life. After Moses is back up on the mountain, G-d’s presence passes before him and we learn that G-d is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in lovingkindness (chesed) and faithfulness (emet, truth), extending kindness (chesed) to a thousand generations. G-d’s lovingkindness is eternal and everlasting. This knowledge will probably sustain me for the next forty years…but it is a good thing that this is a parsha we read three times a year because I need that constant love and reassurance.

We Jews count days starting at night. There was evening and there was morning, the first day. Our holidays all begin in the evening.

The Full Moon of Passover

But I am a morning person. What can I learn at night? The Hagaddah gives us a clue. It is a usually a portion I am asked to read because people don’t want to trip over the old Hebraic names. “Once Rabbi Eliezer, Rabbi Yehoshua, Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah, Rabbi Akiva, and Rabbi Tarfon dined together [at the Seder] in Bnei Brak. They discussed the Exodus from Egypt throughout the entire night until their students came and told them: “Teachers, the time for reciting the Shema in the morning has arrived.” That would be my husband’s ideal seder, going well beyond midnight. There is so much to learn from the Passover story and all of the questions and their application to modern times. Last night I learned again with a group of women who had gathered to have a women’s seder. What are our unique roles as women? When we walked out we were able to see the full Passover moon.

We learn in Berachot when is the time to say the morning Shema? When you can distinguish between blue and white or even more finely between blue and green or when you can distinguish the face of your friend. Try it sometime, the next time you are burning the candle at both ends. Try saying the morning Shema right before dawn, right at first light.

The seder continues…”Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah said to them: ‘I am like a seventy-year-old man. Nevertheless, I did not merit [to understand the reason for the obligation] to recall the Exodus from Egypt at night until ben Zoma interpreted the verse: “In order that you remember the day you left Egypt all the days of your life.” [The phrase] “the days of your life” refers to the days; [adding the word] “all” includes the nights. The Sages interpreted [the verse]: “the days of your life” refers to the present world; “all the days of your life” indicates the Messianic era.

There is another verse from Holocaust poetry from a wall of a cellar in Cologne that teaches,
I believe in the sun
even when it is not shining
And I believe in love
even when there’s no one there
And I believe in God
even when He is silent

So that is the trick. Remembering that we are loved even when the sun is not shining, even when it is not clear how G-d is present or seems to be silent.

Night can be a scary time. A time when we feel more distant from the Divine. But night can be a time of growth and renewal too. When I am up in the middle of the night wrestling with something, tossing and turning, I remember something that my friend David Ferner, an Episcopal priest says, that it is G-d trying to get my attention in the middle of the night because I was not attentive enough during the day.” Then I usually and curse Dave because I know he’s right.

Today’s mystical interpretation of the 3rd day is Tiferet b’chesed, beauty in lovingkindness. Again we need to look at other translations. Glory, Spirituality, Balance, Integration, and Compassion are all other words I have seen to describe something that doesn’t translate well. If it is balance, then this makes sense, day and night need to balance, darkness and light. If it is glory, then there is a gloriousness of lovingkindness. Oh that we could understand that we are loved even when feeling it not.

On a very sad note, a colleague of mine, Rabbi Robert Freedman, was in a very serious car accident yesterday. A much beloved Hillel rabbi, Rabbi Jim Diamond was killed. They were apparently leaving a study session and someone was going much too fast and hit Bob’s parked car. Psalms says, “Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” I like to think it is about living intentionally and making every day count. Perhaps that is why we count the days of the omer. I hope that Rabbi Diamond’s family finds some comfort in how he made his days count and how many lives he touched.

Today is the second day of counting. Mystically it is seen as Gevurah b’chesed, discipline in lovingkindness. But another translation of gevurah is strength. It takes strength to be a Jew. It takes courage and lovingkindness. We need both. Courage does not necessarily mean being brave and racing into a burning building. Courage comes from the Latin cor and the French coeur for heart. It means something like the ability to confront fear, pain, danger, uncertainty, or intimidation. Physical courage is courage in the face of physical pain, hardship, death, or threat of death, while moral courage is the ability to act rightly in the face of popular opposition, shame, scandal, or discouragement.

We went on a brief Passover hike yesterday, wandering without knowing where we wanted to go or how long it would take us. We were rewarded by seeing some early spring flowers, just peaking through the still brown, dead lives. Snow drops I believe. It takes tremendous courage and faith to stick your head up and bloom at this season.  It takes strength and courage and discipline to stick your head up and say what needs to be said.

 
Tonight I will go to a women’s seder, an opportunity to gather around a seder one more time, this time to hear specifically about the role women played in birthing the Israelites out of Egypt. Some will tell the stories of their own mothers and grandmothers. The women of the Torah showed great gevurah b’chesed. Miriam, Shifra, Puah, Zipporah, Batya all spoke up when they needed to. Sarah, Rebecca, Leah and Rachel, Esther and Ruth, Deborah, all showed courage when confronted with challenges. Part of what allowed them to succeed is that they had discipline, the other meaning of gevurah. They knew when enough was enough, when to push back and when to take on more. I hope I have that trait.

Earlier this week I was told it takes courage to be a rabbi. I bristled when I was told that because I am not sure that I have anything special. I don’t see myself as especially courageous, just as me. But i join a long line of strong and courageous women. The matriarchs, Beruria, Gluckel of Hamln,  Marionbetty and Nelle.

How do you show strength, courage, discipline in love?

Tuesday night began the counting of the omer, the period between the second night of Passover and Shavuot, 49 days later. It is a journey, a process, mirroring the journey of the Israelites in the wilderness. There are lots of ways to count the omer. There is the traditional blessing, “Al Sephirat HaOmer” and then counting, “This is Day One of the Omer”. There are some lovely meditations written every year. Here are some of my favorites: I’ve got a beautiful collection of Omer-counting books here on my desk: Rabbi Yael Levy’s Journey Through the Wilderness: A Mindfulness Approach to the Ancient Jewish Practice of Counting the Omer, Shifrah Tobacman’s Omer / Teshuvah: 49 Poetic Meditations for Counting the Omer or Turning Toward a New Year, Rabbi Jill Hammer’s Omer Calendar of Biblical Women, Rabbi Min Kantrowitz’s Counting the Omer: A Kabbalistic Meditation Guide, Rabbi Simon Jacobson’s A Spiritual Guide to The Counting of the Omer.
Last year my lead teacher, Esther Kaufman and I made omer counters at a Junior Congregation Shabbat with the kids out of Kosher L’Pseach chocolate. I admit, it seemed a little too much like an advent calendar but the kids had fun. There is even an Homer Simpson Omer calendar with which kids of all ages can have fun
. http://homercalendar.net/Welcome.html.

But what is the Omer and why does it matter? Omer is a measure of wheat or barley that was offered in the Temple as part of the first fruits. My favorite way to count the omer, based on teachings of Rabbi Everett Gendler, is to plant winter wheat or rye at Sukkot. It comes up briefly and then lies fallow over the winter. Then each week of the Omer we harvest just a little bit to show how the earth renews itself and grows.
This year was no exception. The students at Congregation Kneseth Israel planted winter rye at Sukkot along with yellow tulips for our Yom Hashoah observance. I looked on Sunday. Nothing up yet. It snowed again, not much, just enough to make it look more like Chanukah than Passover. We counted the Omer at the Community Seder and on my way home I went out to see what was happening in the garden. And there they were, first tender little shoots. By the light of the beautiful full Pesach moon I could see them. They bring me hope.
Rabbi Katy Allen has another way of counting. This year she will be posting a picture of nature showing how the earth is marching towards spring. I already sent her a picture of crocuses trying to appear.
Every year I take on an omer project. Some years they have been simple–remembering to wear my seat belt or unpacking and sorting a box. Some years more complex, reading a certain book like The Gift of a New Beginning or Rabbi Jill Hammer’s Book of Days. This year I don’t have a specific one. I have decided to try to count every day and to live intentionally. Usually I write about this for Rosh Hashanah. Thoreau went to the woods to live deliberately. Even in his time, intentionality could get lost in the busyness of our lives. Certainly true in our time.

The mystics saw the counting of the omer as a way to reconnect with the divine. They divided the seven weeks into seven of the sephirot and spent time working on each one. is similar to what Benjamin Franklin did with his journal taking on a character trait each week. This week is about chesed. Today is chesed b’chesed. Chesed is a very difficult word to translate. Nothing quite captures it as Nelson Glueck wrote in his PhD thesis on this word. But it is something like abundant lovingkindness, unconditional love. Today then represents a double dose of lovingkindness and compassion. I admit this is a concept in my own life I struggle with. How do I know that I am worthy of being loved. How do I know that I am loved? The answer for me lies in my own Bat Mitzvah portion which we read on Pesach. Exodus 34 gives us the 13 Attributes of the Divine. Only two words appear twice. Adonai, Adonai at the beginning and Chesed. Every year it comes to teach me that yes, I can be loved. That G-d is a G-d of love and loves each and every one of us. My hope is that we can all find that love as we journey towards Sinai.

So every morning I will try to write something and see what comes up. Something already did in this writing.

This week 10 of us gathered for the siyyum for the Fast of the First Born. Those of us who are first born children are commanded to fast on the day before Passover in recognition of our gratitude that the Angel of Death passed over our houses in Egypt and spared our lives as first born children. Commanded, except, if we finish studying something, we are also commanded to celebrate the completion of that study, to have a siyyum. Now having a seder on an empty stomach is not a good idea, especially with four cups of wine….so we gathered. The congregation had not done one of these before and I had no idea who would show up. Most people are too frantically busy the morning before a seder. Finishing up chamatz, burning what remains, cooking, cleaning, cleaning, cooking. I like the Siyyum for the Fast of the First Born precisely because it forces me to take a break. It makes look at something in depth and it elevates my seder to another level. It is a great spiritual reward and a mark of people who are free, people who have time to study. It is a luxury. Tevye plays through my mind, “If I were rich I’d have the time that I lack to sit in the synagogue and pray…I’d discuss the learned books with the rabbis seven hours every day…that would be the sweetest gift of all.”
Like most years, I didn’t have time. I got up really early to finish preparing. We would be looking at the women of the Passover story. Yocheved, Miriam, Shifa, Puah, Batya and Zipporah. I divided the group into pairs so they could study in chevruta, with a friend. Each pair took some of the midrashim then presented them back to the group. There were good in depth conversations. I came away learning or relearning some things.
Some people believe that Shifra and Puah, the midwives, were Miriam and Yocheved. I would prefer them to stand on their own. The rabbis really wrestle with whether they are midwives to the Hebrews, in which case they could be Egyptian, or midwives of the Hebrews in which case they were Israelites. Either way they were righteous. Their civil disobedience at risk to their own lives saved the Jewish people.
Although the Bible doesn’t tell us, the rabbis named the daughter of Pharaoh Baya, G-d’s daughter. Again we see them uncomfortable with her not being an Israelite. They teach that she repudiated her father’s evil ways and that when she went down to the river to bathe she was really immersing in a natural mikveh in order to convert to Judaism. As someone who worked at Mayyim Hayyim the community mikveh in Boston, this idea of bathing as mikveh intrigues me, but I prefer to leave her as a righteous gentile. Why are we so afraid of the other? Why can’t we allow them to be who they are?

Miriam, for whom I am named, gets mixed reviews by the rabbis. She is one of seven women prophets. She is the one who according to midrash, brought her parents back together, rescued baby Moses, and found the nursemaid for him (the baby’s own mother Yocheved), She also was outspoken, together with her brother Aaron, rebuking Moses for his relationship with the Cushite woman. For this she was punished with a skin disease. Her name means “Bitter Waters” and water is central to her life. Whether it is acting as a midwife, following the ark along the Nile, singing at the Sea of Reeds or finding water in the wilderness, we gain life through her actions around precious water. Why then bitter? I think I prefer “Rebellious Waters” as Marsha Mirken teaches in her book, “Women who danced by the sea.”

Finally Zipporah, the wife of Moses, is the one who circumcized her own son, when it would appear Moses forgot or didn’t get around to it. There is a complex scene where the anticedents are not clear that talks about the bridegroom of blood. Whose the bridegroom,  Moses? their son? G-d? An anger? Again, however, we see the fate of the Jewish people in the hands, sometimes literally, in women who were not born as Israelites. These women have a very important role to play.

While people were studying in chevruta, male, female, young and older, I was reading some of my collection of Hagaddot. I learned two new things. First, perhaps another explanation of the Four Cups of Wine is that they represent the Four Matriarchs. This was not in one of the women’s hagaddot or a feminist one.

The other quote was by Rabbi Naamah Kelman, the first woman rabbi ordained in Israel. She teaches, “Many do not know that the very first “interfaith” gathering actually occurred long ago at the Nile when Miriam meets the daughter of Pharaoh and together they save the baby Moses from the decree of death. Defying their destinies and also the male establishments, the Egyptian Princess and the Hebrew slave-girl-destined-for-leadership find sisterhood and seek justice together. They choose to affirm life in the shadows of death and enslavement. These role models found in my ancient tradition have been re-activated in the early 21st century as women around the world are increasingly stepping out and rising up to activism and leadership….Like Miriam and the daughter of Pharaoh who joined hands and defied authority, we can set our people on a journey to freedom and justice.”

Even after studying the texts, I still have one big question. Moses does not appear in the traditional hagaddah. We are told not by an angel, not by a seraph, but by the Holy One alone, with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm were the Israelites freed from Egypt. Elijah makes a bit appearance, as a hope for the future. As interesting as these women are I wonder whether they belong in the Hagaddah.

I am glad that we had the chance to study the texts in depth. Then I went home and burnt the remaining chamatz, In a snow flurry. Spring may come sometime.

If you were up early enough this week, you could watch the pope be installed. It was fascinating. I wrote to Paul, our ritual chair, and told him he better be watching…we might learn something for our own installations in June.

Now how is this relevant you might ask? Why should we watch how the Roman Catholic world treats their highest leader? Because this week we read about the installation of Aaron and his sons as the high priests of Israel.

Now I am not sure I have liked the term installation. To borrow part of a line, “What are we? Dishwashers?” Rabbi Nehemia Polen, Professor at Hebrew College and one of the leading experts in Chasidim, says, well maybe yes but the wrong kitchen appliance. He likens the entire book of Leviticus to a reset button—on a garbage disposal.

Now hear him out. To our modern ears Leviticus may seem nonsensical. It is all about the priestly rite and animal sacrifice. We don’t do that any more, not since the destruction of the Temple in 70CE. The traditional musaf service yearns for a return to Jerusalem and a rebuilding of the Temple complete with animal sacrifice. Sacrifice, in particular the korban, was seen as the way to draw close to G-d. The word korban itself comes from the root to draw close. You know the word, Keruv. Same shoresh, same root. For some of us moderns, musaf is hard because I am not sure we want to return to a sacrificial system. That is not how we draw close to G-d. We are lucky because our prayer book, Siddur Sim Shalom, has an alternative musaf service, the part below the line that talks about how Shabbat instead of praying for a return to animal sacrifice. Some of you have told me that is the portion you davven. So again, why does this matter?

Polen teaches that it does matter. The Israelites were trying to reconnect with G-d. They had had a powerful and direct experience of G-d’s presence in the wilderness. First with the signs and wonders, that mighty hand and outstretched arm that helped them get out of Egypt. Then the parting of the Red Sea. Then the giving of the Torah at Sinai. As I taught last night, Mekhitla, one of the earliest midrashim explains that even a lowly bondswoman, free from Egypt experienced G-d directly, saw G-d, at the parting of the Red Sea. Isaiah and Ezekiel only had visions. Powerful stuff.

This week we will read that we should tell our children on that day what the Lord did for me when I went forth from Egypt. Each of us it see ourselves as though we went forth from Egypt, out of the house of bondage, out of the narrow straights. Each of us was at the parting of the Red Sea and each of us stood at Sinai, even the generations yet unborn.

Remember standing at Sinai. You were scared. You trembled. You shielded your children. The mountain quaked. It smoked. It seemed to be on fire. You took a bath and remained pure for three days. You washed your clothes. You were warned. Don’t go near the mountain. Don’t touch it. Moses went up on the mountain.

Let’s look at this installation rite now. Aaron and his sons immersed in a mikveh. They put on special clothes. They isolated themselves for 7 days. They sprinkled the altar with water. They made a sacrifice so there was smoke and fire, a pleasing odor to G-d. They had a basket of matzah. They were anointed with special oil and maybe most surprisingly with blood from the sacrifice. The people stood outside of the Tent of Meeting. All of the elements were there of the experience of standing at Sinai. Of having that direct, powerful experience of the Divine.

All of the senses were involved. Smell, taste, touch, sight, hearing.

It was a powerful experience. It brought Aaron and his sons back into the Presence of the Divine. It brought the people closer to G-d. It had all the elements of receiving the Torah at Sinai. It is Rabbi Polen’s reset button.

But what does this have to do with us moderns. How do we push the reset button? How do we enter the presence of the Divine? How do we draw close to G-d without sacrifices? Without this complicated installation ritual? People in the congregation answered by doing acts of love and kindness. By doing mitzvoth. By praying.

So the pope was installed this week. If you watched any of the coverage you would have noticed many of these same elements. It was very intentional on the Church’s part. He was isolated, set aside from the time the white smoke appeared, he wore special vestments, a special head covering, lots of gold, there were the elements of communion—bread and wine which Catholics believe are the Passover sacrifice. The pope is the Catholic’s Aaron. He has drawn close to G-d and like Aaron will represent the people to G-d as well as being G-d’s representative here on earth.

When there is big news story, often Jews ask, “Is it good for the Jews or bad for the Jews?” It is too early to tell, but I am hopeful. He had a good reputation in Argentina with the Jewish community. He was outspoken when 85 people were killed by the terrorist bombing of the headquareters of the Jewish federation. He was the first to sign a petition 85 signatures for 85 people. The Jewish community has seen his commitment to dialogue as recently as December when he was the first to light one of the Chanukah candles at Temple Emanu-El. But as they have said, for him it is not just about the photo op. “He’s got a very deep capacity for dialogue with other religions,” Rabbi Alejandro Avruj told The Associated Press recalling the moment. “He spoke of light as renovation, of the re-inauguration of the temple of Jerusalem 2,200 years ago, and the need to carry light to the world.”

At a meeting of Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist and Hindu leaders, the new pope told the Jewish leaders, that Catholics and Jews are “bound by a very special spiritual bond,” and that he planned to continue the interfaith dialogue begun with the Nostra Aetate decree of the Second Vatican Council. He continued by saying that the “Catholic Church was “aware of the importance of the promotion of friendship and respect between men and women of different religious traditions. This I wish to repeat: the promotion of friendship and respect between men and women of different religious traditions.” Then, believe it or not, there was some joking. He turned to the Jewish leader sitting next to him, Rabbi Richardo DiSegni, the chief rabbi of Rome, and the pope said to him he had received a lot of information about DiSegni and that he knew he was very active on Facebook. It is a whole new world. His work will be difficult. There is much to clean up in the Catholic Church—the priest abuse scandal, its seeming disconnect between the people and the papacy on some modern social issues like abortion and birth control,

Tomorrow most of the Christian world will pause to mark Palm Sunday, the day they believe Jesus entered Jerusalem to celebrate Passover. We are busy preparing for Passover which begins Monday night. At this season in particular, where historically Jews were tortured, killed, by elements of the Catholic Church, where Jews had to have sederim in hiding, it would appear that the new pope is building on newer historical trend, that of working towards peace and understanding. Christians of many streams like to experience a seder. We have a group from a Lutherans coming to our community seder from Christ the Lord church. We have another group of leaders coming from FaithBridge. This will enrich our own understanding of our tradition. I am glad the new pope has come out so strongly for interfaith dialogue and understanding and that he has a proven track record in this regard. Yes, it matters what the pope does and says. Later, in our service, when we pray for the leaders of the world, let’s keep him in our kavanah. He will need help from all four corners of the world.

On Rosh Hodesh Nissan, twenty five years ago today, there was a snow flurry. It was the first day of spring and I was getting married. I called the chair of the religious school to see if we were going to have to cancel school (and the wedding!). “No”, she answered, “Those are daisy petals from heaven.” Now, you should know that Margaret means daisy pearl, I would be wearing my grandmother Marguerite’s daisy pearl pin and my bouquet was daisies. Those flakes were a perfect greeting for the day.
This week to mark our 25th anniversary, we went to the Community Mikveh in Wilmette to immerse. While I have done a lot with mikveh, even before Mayyim Hayyim, Simon had never immersed. This would be something we would do together, for each other. When we were leaving there were those daisy petals again. A gift from the heavens.

We exchanged gifts that day. I gave him a engraved siddur. He gave me a kayak. Water has always been important to us as a couple.

Rosh Hodesh is the new month, the head of the month, a gift from G-d to the Israelite women who did not contribute their gold to the building of the Golden Calf. In recent years it has been reinvigorated and you can find Rosh Hodesh groups that meet monthly to explore women’s issues, women’s spirituality, to study and to daven. One such group meets at the Western Wall in Jerusalem. I have supported them since their inception in the early 80s. I am proud that one of my professors, Rivka Haut is a founding member. Every month they risk ridicule, bodily harm and arrest for the simple privilege of worshipping at the Western Wall, the holiest site in Judaism. This month I was given two gifts. One, I was chosen to be part of the speaker’s bureau for Women of the Wall. Wow, (pun intended) was I excited and honored. I already did my first engagement–on Rosh Hodesh Nissan for the Sisterhood of Congregation Kneseth Israel. The other is that NO WOMAN was arrested this month at the Wall. Hallelujah! There is much more I could say about gifts and Women of the Wall but I need to write something else, as a gift.

25 years is a long time. Especially in a second marriage. Many people did not think this would work. That I was marrying too young, to the wrong person, that we didn’t have enough money, that taking on his three kids would be too difficult. They were wrong. These have been 25 good years. Not perfect, but good.

My husband is the first person after my year living in Israel that enabled me to know I was lovable–something I still struggle with. He was the person who supported me physically, emotionally and spiritually. He was the one who allowed me to talk about G-d, most notably on a youth group ski trip we were both chaperoning. He was the one who insisted that the dream of becoming a rabbi was not dead or farfetched. He was the one who took care of our daughter while I was traveling on business or in New York at rabbinical school. He was the one who kidnapped me and took me to Bar Harbor, first to climb a mountain for his birthday, then once a quarter, (yes we even skied up Beehive Mountain one winter) then twice when important decisions had to be made. He was the one I sat with on the rocks at Ogunquit and walked the Marginal Way trying to decide how best to finish rabbinical school, whether to be the educational director at Congregation Beth Israel and whether we should move from his beloved mountains and my beloved ocean (and a host of friends and a condo we loved) to become the rabbi of Congregation Kneseth Israel. He is patient. He allows me to be angry. To scream and rant. (Yes, I have been known to do that at home). He allows me to cry.

Tevye sings to Goldie, “Do you love me?” She answers,
“Do I love you?
For twenty-five years I’ve washed your clothes
Cooked your meals, cleaned your house
Given you children, milked the cow
After twenty-five years, why talk about love right now?
For twenty-five years I’ve lived with him
Fought with him, starved with him
Twenty-five years my bed is his
If that’s not love, what is?

They agree that it doesn’t change a thing, but even so. After twenty five years, it’s nice to know. I never milked his cow, I still have to watch my mouth. I still struggle with the law of kindness.  But after twenty five years, I can say proudly and publicly that I love him. And thank you. On to the next twenty five years.

Driving home from the mikveh, there were more daisy petals from the heavens and a rainbow.

What I sent to my congregation yesterday….

Despite yesterday’s snow, Passover is a mere 20 days away. Many of you have been making plans and I delight in hearing what you will be doing. Did you know that Passover is the most celebrated of all the Jewish holidays in American Jewish families? Did you know that traditionally, the rabbi only gave a sermon twice a year? On the Shabbat between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur to teach how to repent and on the Shabbat before Passover, to help with preparations. This is my version of that sermon. We at CKI are a diverse community with lots of levels of observance. However you choose to celebrate, I wanted to give you some guidelines and some resources. And from my family to yours I wish you a sweet Passover, a zissen Pesach.

Your CKI Family is ready to celebrate with you. We have Judaism Rocks, Turn Over the Kitchen Day, The Study Session in place of the Fast of the First Born, the Community Seder, the Women’s Seder, special services with Hallel and the reading of Song of Songs and Yizkor on the last day. Consult the bulletin or the website www.ckielgin.org for times and places. If you need a place for the first night please contact me personally.

If you are planning to sell your chamatz, please get your form to me by March 22. Our chamatz will be purchased by Pastor Keith Frye at Christ the Lord Lutheran. He is excited about the interfaith learning that this tradition teaches and he will be attending the Kleins’ first night seder. Money raised from this project will go towards feeding the hungry, since we are commanded, “To let all who are hungry come and eat.” Some will go to Mazon and some will go locally.

Starting with the most traditional, my favorite book on Passover preparations is Blu Greenberg’sHow to Run a Traditional Jewish Household. She has really practical advice, like when you go do your Passover shopping, have two slices of pizza and a coke first. Then you won’t be tempted by the wide array of processed foods that look appealing on the shelf but never taste as good as we hope. In the Klein family once we started making chocolate covered matzah (the recipe is in the bulletin) we stopped needed to buy all the junk food, cutting down our food budget. She also points out that none of us should feel guilty if we can’t buy everything that the Jewel has to offer. Some years we can, others we can’t and the holiday will still be festive.

The Orthodox Union, the OU people, have this set of guidelines: http://oukosher.org/passover/ It provides a good way to check individual products and I can envision it right at the grocery store and have downloaded it to my smart phone. If you need all the rules and regulations, the Chicago Rabbinical Council, the CRC people put out a comprehensive list accessible on their website at http://www.crcweb.org/Passover/passover%20guide%202012.pdf . This will give you the low down on specific heckshers, times, etc. Everything you need to know. The Rabbinical Assembly has a good overview of the halacha, http://www.rabbinicalassembly.org/story/hameitz-laws-and-customs

The Reform Movement sent out a link to their Passover material. Great sounding recipes, social justice connections, crafts, activities for kids..plus lots of the history and plenty of additional links. Well worth the read. http://view.mail.rj.org/?j=fec11373736c0679&m=fe9315707361057572&ls=fe231776716c0474741277&l=fefd167574660c&s=fe5312717362077b721d&jb=ffcf14&ju=fe5c15767c600c787415&r=0

Many of you have asked me about the kitinyot article that appeared in the most recent Conservative Judaism magazine. Rabbi Golinkin’s responsa permitting Conservative Jews to eat kitinyot first appeared in 1989 and has been republished in several years. It is a fascinating discussion and one that sparks a heated debate in my own household every year. Intellectually I agree with those who argued as early as the 1300s that we can eat kitinyot, rice, beans, legumes. It is clearly a custom and does not have the weight of halacha, rather of minhag and tradition. The rabbis in the Talmud had rice at their seder! I can even justify it because some of my husband’s ancestors came from Italy and Spain making us Sephardic. I can even support it because it is the main practice in the State of Israel. But my daughter every year argues that as a rabbi, anyone needs to be able to eat in our home. Besides which I raised her to hunt for kosher for Passover ketchup, a good preparation for the Afikomen during the seder. At the synagogue we will continue to observe the Ashkanazi tradition, again so that anyone coming during Passover will feel comfortable. So you can make your own decisions in your own homes, here is the full responsa: http://www.responsafortoday.com/engsums/3_4.htm

If, however, you still have questions, I am of course available for consult. There were signs up in Jewel and the Hungarian “Consult your local rav.” That’s me! 978-590-8268. Other questions that have come up include Kosher for Passover oven cleaner. Kosher for Passover coffee. (I bought Starbucks blonde roast ground with an OU P designation in Evanston and then found it at Meijer on Randall!). How to kasher a keruig or a dishwasher? What to do with plastic? Can Jews eat lamb on Passover?

Passover celebrates our liberation from Egypt, out of the narrow spaces of Mitzrayim. For some they see it as a rebirth. As I said in my bulletin article, we should not therefore become enslaved to the Passover preparation and enter the seder so tired we cannot enjoy it. Passover cleaning can seem like New England spring cleaning on steroids. But the schmutz on your window which you were not going to eat anyway is really not commanded cleaning. Nor are the dust bunnies under the piano or that dried stuff under the refrigerator. While I am all for Passover cleaning and I like the idea that my house is really, really clean at least once a year, I am trying harder to not be narotic about it. And paper plates are OK for some of those many courses! Really, I learned that from another woman rabbi in Pennsylvania.

Part of what makes Passover fun for me is finding new ways to involve the next generation. Sing Dayenu–at least the chorus, only one Hebrew word! Write a new version of Dayenu, It Would Have Been Enough… Practice the Four Questions. In Hebrew or English. We have started in Hebrew School. The 3rd Graders are writing their own questions. They include:
Why does Elijah come?
What do we dip?
Why do we have four cups of wine or grape juice?
Why do we eat kosher food?
What is the story of Passover?
What is freedom?
Have them help you with the shopping or the cleaning or the silver polishing. We change our dishes, but when Sarah was very young, my mother, a avowed classical Reform Jew, sent Sarah her own set of play plastic dishes. We changed her Little Tykes kitchen over too. Write a skit based on the Four Children. Have special things for the plagues. There is a set of masks at the gift shop. I’ve seen finger puppets as well. Even the adults think that is fun. Sing silly seder songs. Some of our favorites are here: http://sederfun.com/images/Silly%20Songs.pdf Or write one of your own. Overall, I am suggesting, make the seder your own and you won’t get the fifth question-“When do we eat.” Oh, and at our table that question was always asked by a dear friend who is 70+ now. We solved that. After the karpas, the parsley, serve crudite with another dip. No one asks any more!

In every generation, we are to see ourselves as if we personally were brought forth from Egypt. In every generation new things are added to the seder, to make it more meaningful, more current. Last year, in addition to the usual egg, shankbone, parsley (home grown), bitter herbs and charoset (two kinds, with nuts and wine and without for our friends who are allergic to nuts or don’t drink wine), we had a beet (for our vegetarian friends in place of the shankbone), an orange for inclusivity of both women and the GLBT community, Israeli olives for peace, coffee beans to remind us that some people are still enslaved. We added an artichoke with its pickly thistles for diversity. That is good one for this congregation that says it embraces diversity but has discovered it isn’t always easy. This year we will add tomatoes.

Perhaps we should simplify, simplify, simplify. The original seder was merely lamb, bitterherbs and matzah. That’s it. Or maybe we could/should try one of the new Hagaddahs that are out. Or maybe we could try, as our students will, a chocolate seder or a Dr. Seuss seder or one set in a beudoin tent. What we ultimately want is some way that our children will ask, “Why?” “Why is this night different?” So then we can tell the story, “Tonight is different because of what the Lord did for me when I went forth from Egypt.”

A Kosher and Sweet Passover
Next year in Jerusalem,
Rabbi Margaret

Sometimes it is the things that happen in between what is scheduled that make the week meaningful and profound. This past week was supposed to be a quiet week. An ordinary week. Nothing special. Busy but not exciting. Yes, it had committee meetings scheduled but that is a natural part of synagogue life. We had a calendar meeting, a keruv meeting and a ritual committee meeting scheduled. There was Hebrew School, tutoring and office hours.
This week was anything but ordinary.
On Sunday a family asked me for a special blessing. They had just purchased a chamsa, a  piece of jewelry that looks like a hand used in Middle East cultures for protection,  from the synagogue gift shop. The back was engraved with a single word. Protect. They wanted me to bless the piece of jewelry. They wanted some form of protection of their own as the wife faces a life-threatening illness. I took them on the bimah with their daughter and recited the priestly benediction, the birkat hacohanim in front of the open ark and before the Torah scrolls. It was the morning of the Purim carnival and the synagogue was buzzing with activity. I was still dressed as Esther, cheerleader of the Jews. Complete with yellow clown wig and my pom poms. Standing on that bimah, quietly was a powerful moment. The blessing says, “May the Lord bless you and keep you.” The word for keep can be translated as guard. We talk about God being the Guardian or the Protector of Israel. All season I had been I teaching the verse from Esther 4:14. Mordechai says, “Perhaps you have obtained such a position for just such a moment.” I felt that way standing on the bimah. Sometimes we talk about God being hidden in the Esther story. Over the bimah is the quote, “Know before whom you stand.” Standing there with this family was a profound experience. I knew before whom we stood.

On Wednesday, I met with my 7th graders. This is always one of the highlights of my week.  They are enthusiastic and very bright. They help me answer questions. deep questions, tough questions, like what does it mean to be happy or what is revelation today.  Earlier in the week the third graders had asked if God can see Himself. I told them I would get back to them and I let my seventh graders try that puzzle. What would they say to third graders? One boy has the beginning of Genesis as his Bar Mitzvah portion. We had been talking about being created in the image of God. Another boy has a portion that includes the phrase, “If I find favor in Your eyes.” “That proves it,” they exclaimed. “God has eyes. If God has eyes He can see Himself!” But what if God doesn’t have a body? What if God is neither male nor female?How do we reconcile that? One of the girls put it together. If we are all created in the image of God, it is like looking in the mirror. When we look in the mirror, we see ourselves, therefore we see God. So then God sees Himself since God has eyes and He finds us favorable.” Since we actually in the middle of a discussion about how God reveals Himself, the kids agreed that in seeing the Divine in each of us, that is how we uncover or reveal God’s presence. Really, these are my seventh graders.

Later in the week the woman from the bimah, who wanted God’s protection, would be in the hospital. The cancer had spread. Where was God’s protection? There is a difference between healing and curing. It will be a long battle for her but it sounds like the skilled and compassionate care team has a plan that will help her. I managed to see her Friday afternoon. I sang the Debbie Friendman B’yado the last verse from Adon Olam. It says, “Into His hand, I place my spirit. When I sleep and when I wake, and with my spirit, my body, God is with me, I shall not fear.” I sing this version often when I am at the hospital. Its slow, gentle melody is comforting, like a warm fuzzy blanket. I learned this from Rabbi Michael Schaddick in Grand Rapids who sang it to my mother when she was in the hospital.  I hope that my congregant sleeps knowing that others and God are taking care of her while she sleeps. I hope that she knows that it is OK to be angry, OK to be sad, OK to be scared but that G-d never slumbers or sleeps. I assured her that her job is to get well and that it is my job, with others to take care of her husband and daughter. Her goal, learn enough Hebrew, together with her daughter, to fully participate in her daughter’s Bat Mitzvah. The daughter showed up on Sunday, a new student, with her homework done. Her father said that before every treatment they are singing the Mi Sheberach but aren’t sure of the Hebrew. Again, I assured them that God understands.

Another congregant is a mensch of a high order. Quietly, behind the scenes she has been taking care of someone who has very little family and who was facing the end of her life. This has been going on for weeks. Hospice would say, “Any day now,” and then the day would pass and she would rally. Not today. The woman was not Jewish and wanted to know all about life after death. Judaism, while it may have developed the concept of heaven, and less about hell, does not offer the surety of some branches of Christianity. Still we all studied. We read books. We answered questions. I thought the hospice chaplain had a beautiful metaphor when he talked about the people who shoveled her walk preparing the way. “G-d prepares our way like that,” he told her, “and is waiting for you with open arms.” Still she held on. This past weekend, while I was on the bimah with that other family, her sister told my congregant, “You know, she was never baptized.” My congregant wondered if maybe that is what she was waiting for. “Can that be possible?” She called the chaplain. He came out in the snow storm. Ironically the walk had not been shoveled and he couldn’t get to the house. He came the next morning. Baptized the women and anointed her with oil. Two hours later she died, peaceful and assured that she would be welcomed by G-d. Can I explain it? No. Was it spiritual or psychological? I am not sure it matters. But another profound moment I have shared.

What will this week bring? A snow storm. Preparation for Passover. A Board Meeting. Hebrew School. What will happen between the ordinary times? What else will I be privileged to learn this week? Only God knows. But it is a privilege. Day in and day out.