What a perfect portion for this morning. We’ve just celebrated the wonderful naming of Ruth. You have brought your child here to give her a Hebrew name, to dedicate her to the Jewish people, to G-d. How appropriate in this month of Kislev, the month of Hanukkah, the word itself means dedicate. 

This portion is all about descendants and their names. You didn’t select one of those names. 

Our portion begins with Rachel giving birth. She names the child Ben Oni, son of my sorrow but Jacob calls him Binyamin, son of my right hand. 

Sadly, she died. Right there on the road to Bethlehem. Near Hebron, also called Kiryat Arbah. Those name places are still in the news, especially at this season.  

Children should be seen but not heard was a former method of parenting. Children are a burden, according to an old Scottish story that becomes part of the charming Brownie Story. The poor shoemaker was upset that the children weren’t helping with any chores. The children consult a wise old owl who tells them to be the brownies, the fairies that their father had wished for. They return home and secretly begin doing those chores. They learn that children are a blessing. 

Psalms teach us: “Children are a heritage of God, the fruit of the womb is a precious reward.” (Psalm 127:3)  

We have just seen right here this morning that children are indeed a blessing. 

In the old days, including Biblical times, a woman’s worth was defined by her children. Being barren was seen as a curse from G-d. We have examples of Sarah, Rebecca, Hannah and Racel herself, all of whom were barren. Given birth was a scary event. Jewish women attending a birth would circle the birthing stool with a red thread to protect the mother and child and to ward off Lilith.  

If you walk through an old cemetery in New England, you find too many graves that are simply labeled mother or baby. Those babies don’t even have a name. In an agricultural economy, women had many children in order to work in the fields.  

Maternal health improved in this country for decades. But access to maternal health care has not been equitable. Sadly, maternal health in this country has slipped in recent years. 

“80 percent of maternal deaths are preventable—yet in the US, the maternal health crisis has only worsened in recent years. Even as one of the wealthiest countries on the planet, the US ranks 55th in the world for maternal mortality, according to a 2020 WHO report—the worst of any developed nation.” https://perelelhealth.com/blogs/news/maternal-health-crisis#:~:text=80%20percent%20of%20maternal%20deaths,worst%20of%20any%20developed%20nation.  

Those numbers are predicted to become worse as we have heard the stories of women being denied necessary, needed health care with various abortion bans in some states. At this stage we are still lucky in Illinois.  

Yet, we have had examples of mothers who have lost full term babies, even here at CKI. We have had women who have wanted to conceive and could not. There was another baby born this week at CKI, and we will be delighted to name her soon and welcome her warmly into the CKI community. The family went through IVF. As their facebook announcement proclaimed: “We hold space and light for anyone struggling with infertility and will always chat with folks who want to learn more about fertility treatments and support systems.” 

The text tells us that Rachel wept for her children. 
She continued to weep:
Thus said GOD:
A cry is heard in Ramah—
Wailing, bitter weeping—
Rachel weeping for her children.
She refuses to be comforted
For her children, who are gone. 

Thus said GOD:
Restrain your voice from weeping,
Your eyes from shedding tears;
For there is a reward for your labor
—declares GOD: 

They shall return from the enemy’s land.
And there is hope for your future
—declares GOD:
Your children shall return to their country.
Jeremiah 31:15-17 

On that road to Bethlehem there is a shrine that is holy to Jews, Christians and Muslims. Rachel’s Tomb, Kever Rachel in Hebrew, Qabr Rachil in Arabic. It has been a source of comfort for mothers facing infertility. I have known women who have gone to Kever Rachel for precisely this reason. Yet the borders in that part of the Middle East are still very much in dispute and who has access on any given day can be in question. The security risks are real. 

Rachel is still weeping for her children. This has been particularly true this year. I watched a video recently of three Rachels, Rachel Goldberg Polin, mother of Hersh Goldberg Polin, Rachel Goldberg, mother of Avi Goldberg who fell in battle, moderated by Rachel Shransky Danziger on the yahrzeit, Heshvan 11 by tradition of our matriarch Rachel. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZpCxgee7aDY 

 The weeping continues. When Hersh was killed there were several poems written. I went looking for them in preparing for today. I found one, on JTA, by my dear friend Rabbi Menachem Creditor: 

i dreamt I was dreaming
that a crying sky was imagined
that rachel’s cry could still be heard
that comfort would still be possible. 

i woke
to my People’s shattered heart
and photos of six precious Jewish children
whose cries are no longer heard.
may their souls finally be at rest. 

i walk through a haze
my mind races
my heart cries 

rachel, rachel, crying for her child.
i cry with you. 

Menachem Creditor 

As he said at the end of the article, “As long as any Rachel weeps, our work is not done. We must continue to be her voice, her hands, her hope, building a future where the promise of return and safety is fulfilled for those still in darkness.” 

 We all cry, just like Rachel. We cry for those unable to conceive, unable to get the health care they deserve, we cry for the remaining hostages and their families, we cry for those displaced in the North and the children going to school in hotel ballrooms, we cry for children used as pawns and human shields. We cry for the children injured in unnecessary wars, in Gaza, in Syria, in Ukraine, in Darfur. We cry. We cry. We cry.  

Yet, we dare to hope. We hope right here in Elgin. Because children are our guarantors. Our legacy. Yes. Children are our blessing. Mazel tov!  

Vayetzi, And Jacob went out. He was running away.  

Jacob was on a journey. He left everything he knew behind him and then he set out for Laban’s house, to find a wife and to escape his brother’s rath. 

We are all on a journey, from one place to another. And perhaps back again. 

He lay down with a stone as his pillow and he began to dream. A ladder going up and down. And on the ladder, angels, messengers, going up and down.  

I’ve been thinking a lot about tents this week. I love camping. It is something I choose to do. And once we went camping in Quebec, in Charlevoix, and it rained the whole time. Not easy for cooking. We played lots of boggle in the tent and ate more meals out in the little village than we had planned on. We ended that vacation in Quebec City in a very modern hotel. I slept better in the tent than I did in the hotel. It was quieter without the air conditioner fan noise! Oh, for sure there can be a rock that gets under you in a tent—usually my hip, but I haven’t tried a stone for a pillow!  

Balaam, the non-Jewish prophet who was hired to curse the Jews, instead blessed them and said, “Ma Tovu Ohalecha Ya’akov. How good are your tents O Jacob. Your dwelling places, O Israel.” We open every service with these words. They are particulaly meaningful this week after the fire at Tent City, the homeless encampment.  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?reload=9&v=Wj1oCAPqhwU 

When Jacob woke up he declared, “G-d is in this place and I knew it not.” He named the place Beth El, House of G-d.  

We are grateful to be in this building, with heat, and light, and a roof that doesn’t leak. With these beautiful stained glass windows. And we are grateful for all of you, for showing up, for being you, for building this community together. 

Along our way we may encounter angels, messengers. I remember a big argument with my father when I was in first grade. He insisted that Jews don’t believe in angels. He was wrong, but I got to do a different art project that year. No wreaths, angels or bells to decorate the classroom!  

The angels, malachim that are in the Hebrew Bible are not the Valentine’s Day, Hallmark card, Renaissance cherubim of Rembrandt, Raphael and Ruebens. Rather they were beings that came with a specific task, to guide us on our ways. Each one had a purpose or message. For instance, in the story of Abraham and his three visitors, each one had a unique mission. The first announced that Sarah would have a baby. The second announced that Sodom and Gomorrah would be destroyed. The third messenger was sent to test Abraham’s faith. 

Perhaps you have encountered an angel or a messenger. Someone in the right place and the right time to communicate just what you are supposed to do or to guide you over a particular hump. Sometimes they are not easy to spot. Sometimes they remind me of Clarence in It’s a Wonderful Life. If you haven’t seen that classic Christmas movie, you really should. It is so very Jewish in its themes. 

When my mother was dying, there were some big decisions that needed to be made. I was by myself at the hospital in Grand Rapids. The rest of the family had not yet arrived. My daughter was a freshman in college. She was trying to balance starting school well and being in Grand Rapids. Seemingly out of nowhere, a high school classmate who worked in the hospital as an anesthesiologist found me in the stairwell. She told me it was all going to be OK. An angel? You bet. And I am forever grateful. 

Fred Rogers, from Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood had this to say: “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” 

This week we had the opportunity to see lots of helpers. Lots of angels and messengers. That’s where I get my hope.  Each of you is an angel. 

Sometimes, however, those messengers and messages come in the middle of the night. Seemingly when we are all alone. That seems to be true of Jacob. Both in our story today and how our story ends.
Our story ends today with Jacob going out. He is going back to Isaac’s house. It i twenty years later. He is a different man, older, perhaps wiser, with wives and servants, livestock. Next week we will meet him again, alone again where he encounters another being, an angel, G-d himself. 

Rabbi Nachman of Bratzlav thought that each of us should be outdoors in nature pouring out our heart to G-d. Here is his prayer: 

Grant me the ability to be alone;
May it be my custom to go outdoors each day
Among the trees and grass—among all growing things
And there may I be alone, and enter into prayer, \
To talk with the One to whom I belong.
May I express there everything in my heart,
And may all the foliage of the field
All grasses, trees and plant–
Awake at my coming. 
To send the powers of their life into the words of my prayer
So that my prayer and speech are made whole
Through the life and spirit of all growing things
Which are made as one by their transcendent Source.
May I then pour out the words of my heart
Before Your Presence like water, O Lord.
And lift up my hands to You in worship,
On my behalf, and that of my children! 

Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav 

Debbie Friedman, z’l set it to beautiful music.  

This is not unlike Henry David Thoreau describing why he went to Walden Pond: 

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”  

How Jewish. Going to the woods to live deliberately. With intention. With kavanah.  

We are each on a journey, May we be blessed as we go on our way, coming and going. May we discover as they did in Tractate Sukkah the place that our hearts hold dear: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v9-2t7W_8M0 

Makom she-libi ohev, sham raglai molikhot oti.”
“The place that my heart holds dear, there my feet will bring me near.”
     Mishnah,Tractate Sukkah 

May you find the messengers and the messages of your lives. May you be an angel for someone else.  

Today’s Torah portion is called Todot. Generations. We just sang L’Dor v’dor, from gneration to generation. This portion is about succession, one generation to the next 

At the very beginning of the portion, Rebecca went to an oracle to figure out what was going on her womb, she was going to l’drosh, to seek out the meaning of the pain she was experiencing. L’drosh is the root for midrash, to seek out the meaning of the text and Beit Midrash, a House of Study. (Ironically, the Arabic midrasha are the Muslim house of studies) Arabic and Hebrew are very related languages. That’s a very important point as the war continues in Gaza and now Syria and other flashpoints. 

Rebecca is told that there are two children in her womb. Twins. Jacob and Esau. Esau and Jacob. The next generation.  

In the old world, the first born (male) inherited everything. Jacob tricked Esau out of his birthright. (Oh, for a pot of lentil stew on this cold morning. Some year we will do that again. Don’t worry, I have the perfect recipe!) Then he tricked Isaac into giving him the blessing meant for Esau  

The portion ends with a blessing or two. Not the ones you expect. Then a search for wives for both Jacob and Esau.  

It makes us ask questions about our own lives today. What is it we want to pass down to our children and grandchildren. What are the blessings do we want them to receive? For me, even in these crazy times being Jewish, being part of this covenant that Rebecca preserved by passing it down to Jacob is a blessing. It is what gives my life meaning. What are the values that are so important that we want our children and children to be Jewish? Is it just who they pick to marry?  How do we ensure that the covenant continues? 

I’m currently reading Rabbi Michael Strassfeld’s book Disrupted Judaism. You may recognize his name from his history with the Jewish Catalogs. That was another period where it seemed Judaism was on the cusp of changing from one generation to the next. Then the leaders of what became known as the chavurah movement wanted what they called “do-it-yourself Judaism.” It was less top down, more sit around and discuss, make a challah, learn to meditate, to lead services. It was started at Havurat Shalom, a stone’s throw from Tufts and I enjoyed many pleasant Shabbat mornings there. 

Strassfeld believes our emphasis on mitzvot, those obligations commanded by G-d are not quite the pillars to keep Judaism and our people together. Yet they still have power for us as individuals and as a community. This may become our next big book together. After an important introduction about what is the contemporary challenge we face, he outlines 11 core principles: 

1. Created in the Image of G-d 
2. Living in a moral universe 
3. Living with awareness 
4. Engaging in Social Justice 
5. Finding holiness everywhere 
6. Caring for the planet 
7. Wrestling with G-d 
8. Working on our inner qualities 
9. Turning and returning teshuvah 
10. Being a life long learner 
11. Living in an open society 

All of these he backs with significant Jewish texts. Torah, Talmud, Midrash. Codes. It feels very familiar and very real.  

Art Green, a contemporary and friend of Strassfeld, wrote a similar book. Judaism’s 10 Best Ideas, a brief guide for seekers: 

Chap. 1: Simchah – Joy: Happiness as a Religious Precept.  

Chap. 2: Tzelem Elohim – Created in God’s Image.  

 Chap. 3: Halakhah – Walking the Path: A Community of Doers  

Chap. 4: Tikkun Olam – Repairing the World: Being God’s Partner to improve the world. To heal the world.  

Chap. 5: Shabbat – Getting Off the Treadmill: Take a breath! Take a break. Much as Israel has kept the Sabbath, the Sabbath has kept Israel. Ahad Ha’am. 

Chap. 6: Teshuvah – Returning: Faith in Human Change  

Chap. 7: Torah – The People and the Book: Text and Interpretation  

Chap. 8: Talmud Torah – “Teach Them to Your Children”  

Chap. 9: L’Hayyim – To Life!: Accepting Death, Affirming Life  

Chap. 10: Ehad – Hear O Israel: There Is Only One.  

This is not a new game. In fact, it is a very old game. 613 commandments are a lot. How do we boil them down to something more manageable. The Talmud in Makot 23b-24a does just that.  

David came and reduced them to eleven – as it is written (in Psalm 15):  Micah (6:8) came and reduced them to three, as it is written: ‘[The Eternal] has told you, what is good, and what the Eternal requires of you: only to do justly, and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.’…Then came Isaiah (56:1) and reduced them to two, as it is said: ‘Thus says the Eternal: ‘Observe justice and do righteousness.’ Amos (5:4) came and reduced them to one, as it is said: ‘For thus says the Eternal to the house of Israel, Seek Me and live.’ … Habakkuk (2:4) then came and based them all on one [principle], as it is said: ‘the righteous shall live by their faith.’ 

It ends with just one commandment from the prophet Habbakuk, “Live by Faith.” 

Surprised? You know that we Jews debate everything even across the generations. You might be remembering the famous story of Hillel and Shammai, when someone knocks on Shammai’s, Beit Midrash and says he will convert to Judaism if Shammai will teach him everything about Judaism while standing on one foot. Shammai sends him away. Not very welcoming! The convert then goes to Hillel’s House of Study. He poses the same question. Hillel responds: “What is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor. That is the whole Torah; the rest is commentary—go and study!” 

Rabbi Akiva said “This is a great principle of the Torah: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Lev. 19:18). (Bereshit Rabbah 24:7) 

Maimonides has his 13 principles of faith. Edmund Flegg wrote his “I am a Jew”  

When I study with our students and their parents, or people who are looking at Judaism seriously with an eye toward conversion, I think my list would include a blend of these. There is a lot of overlap between these core principles. 

Our vision statement: 

1. Lifelong learning, it is definitely on Strassfeld’s list and Green’s. Asking good questions. Reading, studying, learning. Education is clearly a Jewish value. Teach your children diligently. But not just our children. All of us are obligated to keep learning. 
2. Meaningful observance links with Strassfeld’s living with awareness and finding holiness everywhere and Green’s concept of halakah, walking the path. 
3. Building community for me this is what it is all about. From here we can wrestle with it all, we can l’derosh, seek out meaning.  
4. Embracing diversity may relate to live in an open society 

But my list would also include: 

1. Tikkun olam, Repair the world. Tzedek tzedek tirdorf, Justice, justice shall you pursue 
2. Seek peace and pursue it 
3. Be kind, embrace chesed, lovingkindness 
4. Love the widow, the orphan and the stranger, the most marginalized amongst us 
5. Just show up 
6. Do the right thing 

This is my list. The way I hope I live my life, day in and day out. Informed by Jewish tradition. It gives my life meaning. What is on your list? 

Why is this important today? With today’s portion?  

Our parsha ends with both Jacob and Esau no longer in their father’s house, each going to seek out a wife. Neither reconciled with each other. The sibling rivalry in this portion is legendary and an example of how to not to parent. How not to pit one child against the other. Harold Kushner’s book, How Good Do We Have to Be makes the point that there is enough love to go around. What a different world it would be if Rebecca had treated Esau differently.  

Rebecca wasn’t sure she trusted G-d enough (I wrote a master’s thesis on this!) She made sure to manipulate the process so that the covenant got passed down to the right one, to her beloved Jacob. He became the inheritor of the covenant which he then passed down to the 12 tribes and the rest, as they say is history.  

Moses received the Torah at Sinai and transmitted it to Joshua, Joshua to the elders, and the elders to the prophets, and the prophets to the Men of the Great Assembly. (Pirke Avot 1:1). We are the inheritors of this precious legacy.  

The question, then, is how do we make this relevant and meaningful to our children that they want to be part of the community and not run away like Jacob and Esau. If it is about creating meaning in life, how do we help our children create that meaning for themselves and for their children? How do we create meaning for ourselves and our descendants?  

Be kind. Be thoughtful. Be caring. Be grateful. Make the world a better place. One corner of the world at a time.  

I am wearing a t-shirt this morning. “Be the good. Believe there is good.” 

These are the years of the life of Sarah. Sarah was one hundred years and twenty years and seven years and Sarah died. Apparently in Kiriyat Arba, also known as Hebron. Abraham comes to mourn for her. He buys a burial plot. That’s why some believe Jews have the rights to the West Bank. He eulogizes her. Some say that his eulogy was the poem from Proverbs that we call Eishet Chayil, a Woman of Valor. And he knows he needs to find a wife for Isaac. Life continues. Life has to continue. The covenant has to continue. After the heart ache of the akeda, the binding of Isaac and the death of Sarah, he has to do right by Isaac. 

He sends his servant, not named in the text but called Eliezer, back to the land of his birth on this mission, to find a wife. 

Eliezer met Rebecca at the well: 

“Drink, my lord,” she said, and she quickly lowered her jar upon her hand and let him drink. When she had let him drink his fill, she said, “I will also draw for your camels, until they finish drinking.” Quickly emptying her jar into the trough, she ran back to the well to draw, and she drew for all his camels. 

That’s a lot of water. And a lot of rushing. A lot of running.  

Often Rebecca is described as having great kindness, empathy. Why?  

She could have just given Eliezer water for himself. She volunteered to water the camels. All 10. Camels can drink between 20 to 40 gallons in one sitting, A gallon is about 5 pounds. Great for weight training! Rebecca would have had to draw, pull up between 1,600 and 3,200 pounds of water, one pitcher at a time. 

The word gamal, from which we get camel in English, is an interesting one. Soon you may play driedle with a gimel on it—same word, that’s why the gimel has a tail. (and nun has no tail at all!) But it also gives us the phrase, gomal chasidim tovim, who bestows lovingkindness on us in formal English or who fills us up (like a camel) and the phrase, gemilut chasadim, deeds of lovingkindness. Chesed is important. Kindness is important. Empathy is important.  

Chesed to animals especially important. There has been a lot of discussion in the Klein household and even in this community about how to treat animals, whether we can pray for animals and more since our dog Caleb and Simon were attacked two weeks ago. People have in fact been incredibly kind and we are grateful.  

We’ve had people call, people who have said mi sheberach prayers, people who have visited with their dogs, some who dropped off gifts, and people who have helped transport. All of those are acts of kindness, gemilut chasidim chesed.  

We are taught in the Talmud that we are commanded to feed our animals even before we ourselves are fed. The Gemara derives this from the verse, “And I will give you grass in your field for your livestock—and then does it says “you will eat and be satisfied (Deut. 11).” Berachot 40a 

After the camel test…Eliezer dines at a big family feast. Perhaps a precursor to our own Thanksgiving feasts. He asks the family if they will allow Rebecca to go with him to be a bride for Isaac. There is some back and forth, some negotiation. Some jewelry given, even for the mom. The relatives insist on getting Rebecca’s permission. 

And they said, “Let us call the girl and ask for her reply.”  

They called Rebecca and said to her, “Will you go with this man?” And she said, “I will.” 

As we approach Thanksgiving dinner some advice: don’t ask the young people, “When are you going to get married. Or when are you going to have a child. Or anything about finances or weight. Maybe not even about politics.  

This portion actually has three deaths. Sarah, Abraham and Ishmael. We learn much from watching how our patriarchs and matriarchs deal with the inevitable loss. One important lesson. Abraham died alone. Yet Isaac and Ishmael, both estranged from their father, come back together, long enough to bury Abraham. They then go their separate ways.  

Perhaps this is a model for our current world. We need to bury our dead and mourn too many senseless deaths. In Israel. In Lebanon. In Gaza. We need to stop the bloodshed and actively seek peace and pursue it. 

Earlier this week, our book group joined with Gail Borden Public Library for National Jewish Book Month. We read Rabbi Sharon Brous’s The Amen Effect. If I could summarize the book it would be show up. Just show up. For the big things and the little ones. For the sad things little funerals and the simchas, the joyous ones. 

As part of that discussion, I said that I tell families in the throes of grief that they will hear things from well-meaning people which may not be helpful. So like the topics to avoid at a Thanksgiving dinner, here are my top five things not to say to someone grieving: 

1. G-d needed another angel
2. They’re in a better place.
3. 3. You can have another child
4. 4. G-d has a plan.
5. 5. G-d will never give you more than you can bear.

The important thing is to show up…that is an act of kindness. And to listen. Deeply listen. And to meet people where they are, wherever they may be.  

Rebecca teaches us to take this goal of boundless, unlimited lovingkindness, chesed, seriously. To challenge ourselves with real selfless commitment. Rebecca teaches us to be initiators, to look for times and places where we can be of service, where we can just show up, being proactive and useful, before others even expect it.  

We are taught by the Ba’al Shem Tov, the founder of the chasidic movemnt, that a soul may come into this world for seventy or eighty years, b’ezrat Hashem, with G-d’s help, with the sole purpose of doing a favor for someone else, for being kind, like Rebecca. That ability to help someone in need, that chesed, lovingkindness. Is what Eliezer sought, for he know that it was that essential trait that would determine the candidate to be a genuine matriarch of the Jewish people. (based on https://www.chabad.org/theJewishWoman/article_cdo/aid/763991/jewish/Rebecca-and-the-Camel-Test.htm ) 

Be like Rebecca. Be good. Be Kind.  

This week we are just three weeks into our most sacred text. Bereshit, the book of Genesis, the first book of the Torah. 

The world was created. We had our first murder. The world was nearly destroyed. We were told that would not happen again, at least not by water. The tower of babel and the confusion of languages. and then a long genealogy. We met Abraham. Three weeks.  

We are told that Noah was righteous in his generation and Abraham was righteous.  

I asked our Torah School kids what righteous means. It means being right, being correct, doing the right things.  

What was it that Abraham did that made his righteous? What is it that we can do to emulate Abraham? 

Our portion begins with the words, Lech Lecha. Go. Abraham is told to go. To leave his land, the land of his birth, his father’s house and go to the land that G-d will show him. Pretty powerful stuff, pretty powerful language. Why does he have to leave everything he knows? To focus. The Hebrew construction is a bit odd. Lech Lecha often gets translated as go forth. But the Hebrew offers another clue, Go to yourself.  Find yourself.  

Leaving is hard. Making space for something new with its promise of being better is hard. Yet, that is exactly what Abraham needs to do. What G-d demands him to do. He is forging a new path, a new future for himself and his family, both Sarah and Hagar, Isaac and Ishmael. He, in the midrash, smashed the idols of the past. 

For some, these last few weeks have been about smashing the idols of the past. For others, it didn’t happen the way they envisioned.  

Cat Zavis said: “Some continue to embrace the idolatry of the past, an idolatry that makes us believe that we are safe when we isolate ourselves, when we demean and oppress others, when we build walls. But in truth, we are safe when we are in community, when we see and uplift the Divine within one another, and when we build bridges and solidarity. Sometimes we harden our hearts and fear takes over. We have a choice. Are we willing to leave behind the idolatry on which our country was built and forge a new path? How might we do so? Can we take responsibility for the injustices of the past and build a future on justice and liberation for all? Being alive is truly miraculous. This is our time. We are all here for a reason. How will we show up and meet this moment? Let’s start by being together in a beloved community to nourish ourselves and dream of a future where everyone is nurtured and held in beloved communities.” 

Here we are, in beloved community, still in community. Many of us came from somewhere else, leaving behind the places we were born. That term that Cat Zavis used, beloved community, is one that Martin Luther King first used, is the name of a group that Josh Stober and I are participating in. We’re reading the book, Healing Resistance, trying to find a way to build a community that takes care of the most vulnerable, the widow, the orphan, the stranger amongst us. A world where people work together with the police and are not afraid of them, a world where people are respected and yes, loved. 

Abraham did more than just leave.  

He rescued his nephew Lot who was being held captive after which he broke bread with the King of Sodom, Malchizedek.  

He argued with G-d not to destroy Sodom and Gemorah. If there are just 50 righteous people…all the way down to 10. That is why our minyan is 10. 10 is the number for community. We are not meant to be alone. We are meant to be in community. Look around you. We here are in community. All of us together. Sometimes we agree and sometimes we don’t but we are all here.  

There is a power in being seen. Abraham…and Sarah do that. He saw the injustices of Sodom and Gemorah. He tried to protect the most vulnerable there. We nned to be seen…and to see. Look around you…we are building a community where people are heard and seen. Where people show up. Where people care about one another. 

Later we are told that his (and Sarah’s) tent were open on all four sides, so he could see who was coming. They practiced radical, audacious hospitality, from which we get the concept hachnasat orchim, welcoming guests.  

We are told that we should emulate G-d, “Just as G-d is merciful, we too should be merciful. Just as G-d is kind, we too should be kind.” The midrash continues that G-d’s kindness includes clothing the naked, Adam and Eve, feeding the hungry with manna in the wilderness and burying the dead. Abraham’s kindness includes feeding his three guests, even interrupting his conversation with G-d to rush to do so. 

Abraham certainly wasn’t perfect. He tries to pass off his wife as his sister. Twice. He throws Hagar (and Ishmael) out of the camp at his wife’s insistence as we will see next week. He almost sacrifices Isaac. Yet he gives us a model. Pirke Avot teaches, “In a place where there are no menschen, strive to be a good person.” That’s the message of Abraham. Be kind. Be loving. Be hospitable. Protect the vulnerable.  

G-d promises that Abraham and his descendants will be a blessing. They will be as numerous as the stars in the sky and the sands on the beach. 

Some of you may be feeling tired this week. Between the time change and the election cycle this has been a week like none other.  

Yet our haftarah offers comfort. 

The ETERNAL is God from of old,
Creator of the earth from end to end,
Who never grows faint or weary,
Whose wisdom cannot be fathomed—
Who gives strength to the weary,
They shall run and not grow weary,
They shall march and not grow faint. 

Anne Frank said, “It’s really a wonder that I haven’t dropped all my ideals, because they seem so absurd and impossible to carry out. Yet I keep them, because in spite of everything, I still believe that people are really good at heart.” 

The world is not yet as we would like it, as G-d and Abraham envisioned it. We learn from the Best Exotic Hotel Marigold: Everything will be alright in the end so if it is not alright it is not the end. The only real failure is the failure to try, and the measure of success is how we cope with disappointment. Remember you are everything, or you are nothing.”

Pirke Avot teaches: “Ours is not to finish the task, neither are we free to ignore it.” We are here in this time and place for a reason. Be like G-d. Be like Abraham. 

Today’s Torah portion is called Vayera, G-d appeared. Abraham is sitting at the entrance to his tent after his circumcision, no little surgery for an adult male at any stage, but particularly in those times. 

He saw three figures, (men, people, messengers, angels or as we just heard in the haftarah translation, agents), approach, standing near him. Abraham interrupts his visit with G-d, his conversation with G-d and runs, yes, runs, to welcome them.  

Fred Rogers from Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood is credited with saying that when things are scary, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” Those figures were the helpers. 

The verb here is nitzavim, just like a portion in Deuteronomy, “Atem nitzvavim hayom. You stand here today.” It continues, all of you. Your leaders, chiefs, old people, your wives, your little ones, your water drawers and wood choppers.” All of you. All of us. 

We learn two important things from this opening. G-d visits the sick so we should visit the sick. Abraham welcomes guests, strangers, whomever they may be.  

But Abraham and Sarah were not perfect people. Far from it. Yet they answered the call to be present, with a simple word “Hineini, I am here.” They are present. We need to be present. 

Many times, I am asked in a seemingly impossible situation, “Where is G-d.” Sometimes it is hard to see.  

This portion is full of sight and appearance. G-d appears. An angel or a messenger appears. Each messenger only has one responsibility, one action they must complete, one reason they have appeared. 

Sometimes it seems impossible to see the good. To see G-d. 

Today’s portion has two of the most painful stories in the Torah. Both of these we also read on Rosh Hashanah. I have wrestled with why. How do explain these painful stories to children, in particular.  

Perhaps they are about crying over children. Protecting children. Perhaps they are about new beginnings. Finding another way. Finding G-d in the midst of unspeakable tragedy.  

Sarah feels threatened by Hagar, worried for her child Isaac and demands that Abraham send them away, put them out of the camp. Abraham is told to listen to Sarah’s voice, and he does. He sends them away with just a skin of water and some bread.  

Hagar does not want to look on while her child dies of thirst in the desert. She cries out, “Let me not look on.” How desperate she must have been to not pray, “Save my child”. G-d hears the voice of the lad (not even named here). She cries for her child. G-d hears her pleas.  

“Then God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water. She went and filled the skin with water, and let the boy drink.” 

Yet, in the very next chapter, Abraham hears a voice, telling him to take his son, his only son, the one he loves, take Isaac to a mountain G-d will show up and offer him as a sacrifice. Abraham prepares to do exactly that. Abraham who argued with G-d about Sodom and Gemorah, seems willing to do the unthinkable. The rabbis couldn’t understand that and invented the midrash, the dialogue here. Take your son. I have two sons. Your only son. They are each the only son of their mother. The one you love. I love them both. Take Isaac.  

So they leave on this three day journey without telling Sarah where they are going or what they are about to do. When Issac questions Abraham, Abraham answers that “It is God who will see to the sheep for this burnt offering, my son.” 

When Abraham looked up, his eye fell upon a ram, caught in the thicket by its horns. He saw a ram!  

And Abraham named that site Adonai-yireh, whence the present saying, “On GOD’s mount there is vision.” 

The message of these two stories is clear. We cannot sacrifice our children.  

It is alright to cry. Hagar cried. Sarah cried. Rachel cried. Hannah cried. About our children. About the world. And we cannot stop there. We need to open our eyes. We need to be Mr. Roger’s helpers. 

 Always, always we have to look for another way. We have to find another way. Don’t give up. Don’t lose hope. Keep searching. The water was there all along. The ram was there. The messengers were there. We need to answer the call to be present with Hineini. I am here. 

 “To love another person is to see the face of G-d. “ Victor Hugo, Les Mis 

Jeff Klepper who wrote the music to Shalom Rav, wrote a son, a bridge between Ahavat Olam and the Sh’ma. If we open up our eyes, maybe in the people who come to help, that is where we find the oneness of G-d.  

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

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JGEhB-KYboo&t=78s 

Today is my mother’s yahrzeit. So we study this parsha in her memory. Nelle Sicher Frisch.  

When she actually died is shrouded in some mystery. Either on Halloween, when she had her final heart attack and never regained consciousness, or on Election Day in 2008, when she took her last breath surrounded by those she loved. Every single one of us, including her, who had voted early, voted before she died. Then we turned on the election results and waited for the funeral home to come. 

Today we read the story of Noah’s ark. At the very end of story we learn that G-d makes a brit, a covenant, to never destroy the world again. At least by water. Yet, G-d seems to get frustrated, angry even quickly. There is a brief story, the Tower of Babel, that appears at the very end of our parsha. The people, still healing from the trauma of the flood come together to build this massive Torah. They seem to be united in language and a shared sense of purpose and community. But what is that purpose? Why are they building a tower to the heavens? Are they building this tower out of fear? Out of anger? Are they trying to draw close to G-d or attack G-d?  

Rabbi Menachem Creditor points our something I didn’t notice before. Call that life long learning. They build the tower in a valley, not on high ground. (Gen. 11:2). As he said, In a way, it’s an irony wrapped in hubris: trying to reach the heavens from the lowest point. Why build in a valley? The text doesn’t say directly, but perhaps it reflects how misplaced their fear and ambition were. In their desperation to control the world, some wanted to protect against another flood, others—a midrash teaches—wanted to challenge heaven itself. The rabbis tell us that when the tower grew tall, some people even shot arrows into the sky as if to strike back at God.” 

 “It’s powerful to consider this reaction. After a traumatic event, we know how easy it is to be consumed with rage, to direct anger outward. But the story invites us to recognize that the flood came because of humanity’s own cruelty and corruption (Gen. 6:13). In truth, we often bring our own storms and floods. Shooting arrows at heaven may feel cathartic, but it’s a diversion from the hard, holy work we are actually called to do: reflecting, changing, and doing better.” 

We are not at the lowest part. Yet things like the pandamic, inflation, job loss, rising anti-semitism, natural disasters make us long for what was, or what seems to have been. It seemed be a simpler time. 

A long time ago, Paul Glaser, a former CKI member, president, Men’s Club president, and my first ritual chair, talked about unity here. He called this corner “unity on division street.” And we still work from that perspective. We look out for each other. We plan events for each other. We feed people. We plant bulbs. We clean up litter. We try to make the world, or at least our small corner of it, better. That’s called Tikkun Olam, repairing the world. Like the classic story from the Zohar, we gather the shards back together again. At least our small corner of it.  

 We don’t always understand each other’s faith and belief. We don’t try to convince each other that they are wrong and we’re right. Sometimes it feels like we don’t even speak the same language. Tiffany Henderson has been teaching me the world bougie. It is a term, perhaps a derogatory slang word in the African American community, to describe those who are wealthier or upwardly mobile people, usually other Black people, who were seen to be socially pretentious. I taught her JAP, a term I don’t hear so much anymore, for Jewish American Princess, a stereotypical well-to-do or spoiled American Jewish girl or woman.  

Both are upwardly mobile, perhaps trying to build those towers to the heavens. It’s hubris that both communities joke about. Sort of.  

While we are a political free zone here at CKI, a partizan one would be better. My mother taught me never to discuss politics or religion in public. It’s not polite. It hurts the polite unity we’ve built. 

Yet I stand here today unable to do that completely. Call it an occupational hazard. I am aware of three recent events aimed at the Jewish community.  

The first is an ad released by the Republican Jewish Coalition that trades in various stereotype and promotes the fear over rising anti-semitism. https://www.youtube.com/watch?reload=9&v=vnXSm. They conclude there is only one way that as Jews they can vote.  

(And still there is more. The same Jewish deli just filmed a Kamala ad: https://www.jta.org/2024/10/31/politics/hymies-the-philly-jewish-deli-featured-in-a-trump-ad-is-now-the-setting-for-a-harris-spot, announced after I initially wrote this!)

The second is an email that I received from the ADL Center on Extremism that there will be rallies in 30 communities including Chicago to protest the perceived genocide in the Middle East:  

“Local organizers of at least two of the protests — in Albuquerque, NM and Raleigh, NC — have announced their intention to march to polling places during early voting hours. Other protests may also take place in the vicinity of early voting locations. Another protest scheduled to take place at a location of political significance is the one in Milwaukee, WI, that is set to take place outside of a Democratic Party of Wisconsin field office… Some of the previous protests co-sponsored by these groups have platformed threatening language directed at Zionists or which have escalated into vandalism and violent confrontations with law enforcement or counter-protesters. Election-related activities and rhetoric urging Americans to vote against both major political parties have been commonplace among anti-Israel activists over the past year.” 

Last weekend Chicagoland, West Rogers Park a highly Jewish neighborhood. The person appears to have targeted an Orthodox young man walking to shul, someone who looks “stereotypically” Jewish. As I understand it the alleged shooter than shot at police officers who took him down. Based on information recovered in his cell phone in addition to attempted murder charges, he was eventually charged with terrorism and hate crimes. I want to remind you that charges do not equal a conviction. This still needs to be adjudicated. Nor do I want to additionally raise anyone’s anxiety. As we do almost every week and as was suggested by the ADL email, we have reviewed our CKI security protocols and are looking at additional things.  I don’t believe we have an actually threat here. And I don’t want to be naive. I will never take your safety for granted. 

The third communication is an email I received just yesterday from Ha rega, in Hebrew characters, on my CKI email. I do not know or recognize the sender at all. It tells me why I have an obligation as a rabbi to tell you who to vote for. It too leans into fear.  

Let me be clear. I will not tell you who to vote for. I value your intelligence too much. You are highly educated and can make your own informed decisions. And. I am told by law enforcement, that it is probably a Russian bot. Don’t get confused by those masquerading.  

Jews have not always had the right to vote. As colonial re-enactors in Chelmsford, we learned that only white, male Christian landowners could vote. Black men did not gain the right to vote until 1870. Women did not gain the right to vote in this country until 1920. The Voting Rights Act of 1965 was signed into law on the conference room table of the Religious Action Center of the Reform Movement. Jews have been in the vanguard of protecting our right to vote and in getting out the vote. 

Yet, the Jewish community is not a monolith. There are many opinions. You may have them in your own families. I know I do. There are many opinions here at CKI. We know the joke about two Jews and three opinions. We know that we argue about everything. Even about the word argue. Some would prefer debate because arguing can lead to civil discord. 

In Proverbs we learn: “Iron sharpens iron.” It is a phrase that refers to the idea that people can sharpen and refine each other through discussion and interaction. The phrase comes from Proverbs 27:17, which says, “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another” (Yes, I changed that translation to be gender inclusive!) 

We, Jews, preserve that kind of debate in the Talmud. It sharpens our discussion and makes us better. It is the minority opinion, It is the model for our own Supreme Court.   

Yet, how we do that is important. We do it with respect, with care, with active listening. Not with violence. 

Let me be clear again. The threats of violence are real. I worry about voter intimidation. I worry about poll workers. I worry about the day after the election. I worry about charges and counter charges of Jewish loyalty. But if anyone asks you to participate in violence, using that old phrase “just say no.” Then call one of the election hotlines. The ACLU toll free number for starters is 1-866-OUR-VOTE. https://www.aclu.org/know-your-rights/voting-rights  

We can agree to disagree on matters of policy. We can find ways to have civil discourse, both here at CKI and at Thanksgiving dinners. What we cannot do is participate in violence. What we cannot do is give up our rights to vote or our identity. 

On Monday night I will be participating in a panel on political violence and religious response. Not sure whether my mother would be proud or angry. It is sponsored by the Elgin Human Relations Commission at 5:30 PM at the Centre of Elgin. I’ll be joined by several local pastors from all denominations.  

This arose out of the fear some residents expressed of not feeling safe to wear their religious garb. I have had similar discussions with some of you about kippot, Jewish jewelry, mezuzot. My answer remains the same. I continue to wear mine proudly. And I understand the fear and do not want to minimize it.  

I stand here today, as I have done before to urge you to vote, although I know many of you have already. I will not tell you who to vote for. Just vote. Exercise your right. 

Back in 2016 I wrote a prayer for voting.  

https://www.theenergizerrabbi.org/2016/11/08/the-joy-of-voting/ 

I did it again in 2020 coupled with an evening of teaching about Jewish civic engagement. 

https://www.theenergizerrabbi.org/2020/11/03/pre-election-teaching-on-judaism-and-civic-engagement-in-memory-of-my-mother/  

My mother’s favorite prayer, the one she read at her own confirmation in Saint Louis in 1938 was “Grant us peace.” I offer it here as a model of how Jews pray for our country and the world.  

“Grant us peace, Your most precious gift, O Eternal Source of peace, and give us the will to proclaim its message to all the peoples of the earth. Bless our country, that it may always be a stronghold of peace, and its advocate among the nations. May contentment reign within its border, health and happiness within its homes. Strengthen the bonds of friendship among the inhabitants of all lands, and may the love of Your name hallow every home and every heart. Blessed is the Eternal God, the Source of peace. ” (Gates of Prayer, based on UPB1)

Every week we pray for our leaders and advisors. This week, especially this week, is no exception.

Rabbi Creditor reminds us that “our parsha holds up a mirror to our humanity. Babel represents more than misguided ambition; it’s a warning against misguided unity. They shared a single language, perhaps even a single mindset, yet it led to a unity without understanding, a closeness without compassion. 

We live in a world rich in diversity, where no two people are exactly the same. Each soul carries a unique facet of the Divine image. This week, as we face a tense moment here in America and beyond, may we cherish that diversity, lean into empathy, and resist the urge to build towers that only serve some of us. Let’s build spaces that hold everyone. We don’t need to erase our differences or speak a single language to find unity. Instead, we’re invited to a unity of purpose, one that celebrates the extraordinary gift of our differences and uses them to create deeper connections.” 

He is correct. Our parsha teaches the G-d made a covenant with Noah, a righteous man in his generation. to never destroy the world again. Our obligation is to keep building this world, based on love, on empathy, on compassion.  

Here is my prayer for 2024: 

I stand here today,
Hineini
Ready.
Ready to exercise my right.
My right to exercise my voice.
My right to vote 

Guide me
With wisdom
With compassion
With care 

Help me 
To shut out anger
To ignore fear and anxiety
To stand here
In this very moment..

Help me
To cast a vote
My vote
Reflecting my values
To make the world a better place.

I stand here today.
Ready,
Hineini. 

~At the Edge of the Deep~ 

In a dream,
God took me to the swamp,
The formless deep,
Roiling with anticipation and desire,
From which divine yearning
Created us all.
Everything held in nothingness,
Light confined in darkness.
Life calling out in song,
Souls calling out in prayer.
Seeds of beauty and terror,
Seeds of history and eternity.
God asked me:
“Shall we make Human in our own image?”
Confused, I replied, “You’ve already made me.”
“Oh, dear one,” God said,
“Before I created you
You called out to Me from the deep,
You yearned for Me,
You courted Me,
And I fell in love.”
© 2023 CCAR Press from “These Words: Poetic Midrash on the Language of Torah” by Alden Solovy 

 It seems that while the G-d keeps saying Ki tov, it is good, in the Bibilical text we begin reading again this weekend, all the way back at Genesis 1, according to the midrash, while something isn’t quite right. Something happened in this world that seemed so perfect. That was called the Garden of Eden, Paradise, that we call heaven. Something went wrong.  

Here is a new poem by Danielle Coffyn that won the Pushcart Prize: 

If Adam Picked the Apple
There would be a parade, 
a celebration,
a holiday to commemorate 
the day he sought enlightenment. 
We would not speak of 
temptation by the devil, rather, 
we would laud Adam’s curiosity, 
his desire for adventure
and knowing.  

We would feast 
on apple-inspired fare: 
tortes, chutneys, pancakes, pies.
There would be plays and songs 
reenacting his courage. 

But it was Eve who grew bored, 
weary of her captivity in Eden. 
And a woman’s desire
for freedom is rarely a cause 
for celebration. 

After they eat the apple, probably a pomegranate, when G-d asks “Ayecha, Where are you?,”they try to hide. Hide from G-d? Interesting idea. How can you hide from G-d? Doesn’t G-d everything? Doesn’t G-d know where they are? 

It could have been perfect. Something happened. So G-d degrees they will be expelled from the Garden. They are going to have to work by the sweat of their brow.  By the time we pick up the story, there is sibling rivalry and the first murder. G-d asks Cain almost the same question G-d asks Adam and Eve. “Where is your brother?” Doesn’t G-d know? Or is like the mother who finds the broken cookie jar and says, “Who broke the cookie jar?” knowing full well who! Cain famously asks “I do not know. Am I my brother’s keeper?” And the implication is YES. You are your brother’s keeper. You are accountable for his actions, and your own! There has to be accountability. We have to take care of one another.  Jealousy is bad. Sibling rivalry is bad. Murder is bad. Is that clear? 

Next week, we read the story of Noah. G-d is really frustrated with the world G-d created. We know the story. At G-d’s command, Noah builds an ark. It rains and pours for 40 days. That storm destroys everything on the earth, except the ark and those on it. This is not the first time G-d gets angry. In the midrash G-d created and destroyed 974 worlds before this one. (Midrash Tehilim 90:13) This time, G-d makes the first covenant. A sacred promise. A contract. G-d promises to never destroy the world again. At least by water.  

This is a week we think a lot about rain and water. G-d separates the water from the dry land. We add a prayer for rain. Water has the power to heal and to destroy. I was relieved that we got through Sukkot with very lovely weather. Being in the Sukkah was nearly perfect. Yet, we desperately need rain in this climate. This is not the first time where there is a dought. Even in the ancient land of Israel.  

There is an old Talmudic story about Honi the Circle Drawer who lived in the first century BCE. We often tell one of the stories about him around Tu B’shevat, the New Year of the Trees. Seems that he had a special relationship with God and his prayers were quite effective. There was a terrible drought in the land of Israel. The rainy season had ended with no rain and the Israelites were about to enter the dry time of year. When rain is plentiful, it’s an afterthought. During a drought, it’s the only thought. The people needed rain.  

The people sent for Honi to pray for rain because they knew that God listened and answered Honi’s prayers. Honi prayed, but no rain came. Then Honi drew a circle in the dust around himself and told God that he would not leave the circle until G-d sent rain. A little audacious. A little chuztpidik, perhaps. It began to rain, but so little and light that the people complained to Honi. They kvetched. They told him that it was raining only enough to release Honi from his vow, but not enough to end the drought.

Honi turned his face to heaven and spoke to God, “Not for this type of rain did I pray, but for rain which would fill wells, cisterns and ditches.” The skies opened and the rain came in torrents. Again, the people came to Honi. Again the people kvetched. This time they cried that the rain was beginning to flood and damage the land.

Honi turned his face to heaven once more and prayed, “Not for this type of rain did I pray, but for rain of your favor, blessing, and graciousness.” This time, G-d heard Honi’s prayers and answered with a rain that refreshed the land. It’s like the Goldilocks prayer for rain.  Of course, like much in Judaism, there are two sources for this, both from the Talmud, Taanit 19a and 23a. 

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

In the old days, as part of the end of Sukkot, on Shimini Atzeret precisely then that we add the prayer Geshem. You wouldn’t want to say it too early. You wouldn’t want those paths home from Jerusalem to be too muddy. Today we began to add it’s echo in our Amidah, “Mashiv haRuach u’Morid haGeshem, “Who causes the wind to blow and the rain to fall” 

Rabbi Jacob Fine teaches that, “the complete dependence of life on water is powerfully conveyed through the Hebrew root ג-ש-ם (gimel-shin-mem), which can mean both rain and physicality. Lest we forget that we are made up of nearly three-quarters water, the Hebrew reminds us that without geshem (rain), there is no gashmiut (physicality). Or in other words, without mayim (water), there is no chaim (life).” 

This is a prayer that is specific to the land of Israel, although we desperately need rain here. Still. Even after the storms of Thursday night. When Shira was studying this prayer, she was reminded of something Yossi Klein Halevy wrote about the fact that Jews spent centuries praying for the rain and dew in season for the land of Israel, even though most of them never travelled there. But his point was that we never abandoned our land. 

Here is a classic cantorial recitation from Cantor Azi Schwartz at the Park Avenue Synagogue.: 

https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=610600010807967  

Here is a video of this important prayer. I know a number of people featured in it, but we found it thanks to Shira. It may even contain a glimpse of Margot Seigle.  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=imxxAEHaG5g&t=28s 

This year, there was at least one rendition that added extra stanzas to beg G-d for rain for the merit of the victims of October 7th: 

“Remember the children who returned to their land, like streams of water. On a day of wrath, the wicked overwhelmed them like a flood of water. As they grasped the handles, their tears flowed like water. Hear the cry of their blood, spilled like water.
For their sake do not withhold water. 

Remember the thousands who rushed to battle on the day of the prayer for water. For the sake of their brothers, they entered fire and water. In love for Your people, their hearts stirred like the sound of flowing water. Their bravery flowed like a river of water.
In their righteousness, grant the grace of an abundance of waters.
Remember the captives, men and women, on the eight day, judged by waters. Like a leaf, they were caught in a current of water. In distress, in the darkness, in a pit without water. Have mercy and redeem them , like the flight of doves and like clouds of water.  

For their sake, do not withhold water.” (Rabbanit Shlomit Piamenta)

Powerful words. Please G-d hear them.  

Yet, there is a little more here we need to do. We pray for rain through the zecut, the merit of our ancestors. People have talked about our responsibility to the earth as it relates to this prayer. G-d promised to never destroy the earth again with water. You might want to check with any of the people who have endured the floods and hurricanes of this year, whether they still think this way. 

How are we accountable? Do we have any responsibility? 

Today’s Torah portion teaches that we are partners with G-d in creation. We have an obligation to take care of this earth. In Deut. 20 it teaches this very concept, the Jewish value of bal taschit, do not destroy. We are not to destroy fruit trees if we siege a city. From that we extrapolate that we are not to destroy anything. Earlier in Deuteronomy, in the paragrpah that we deem the second paragraph of the V’ahavta, we are told that  “If, then, you obey the commandments that I enjoin upon you this day, loving Adonai your God and serving Adonai with all your heart and soul, I will grant the rain for your land in season, the early rain and the late. You shall gather in your new grain and wine and oil— I will also provide grass in the fields for your cattle—and thus you will eat to contentment.” (Deut. 11). 

We need to do more than pray for rain. We need to work for a time where we are accountable for not destroying this glorious world.  

Truth in advertising. Some of this repeat a d’var torah I did on Sukkot in 2010. It is still relevent today with some additions. 

To everything…turn turn turn
There is a season…turn, turn, turn…
And a time for every purpose under heaven…
A time to be born, a time to die… 

We know this quote. We know this book. Ecclesiastes, Kohelet. We just read excerpts of it. We know it from popular literature—and music. Shakespeare. Lincoln. Tolstoy. Thomas Wolfe. The Byrds. Turn, turn, turn.  There is nothing new under the sun, so says Kohelet. 

But read on Sukkot? Surprising, no? Here comes this book that seems like such a downer, right in the middle of “the time of our joy.” Why? 

They say that every rabbi writes the sermon they need to hear. With someone who has a middle name Joy, who is fascinated by the character Joy in Inside Out, the new Disney animated film, I’ll be costumed as Joy at the police Halloween extravaganza next week. So, let’s talk about joy.  

We know that we can’t command an emotion. Your feelings are your feelings. What happens then we we say, “Be Happy, It’s Adar” for Purim, or like my coaster says, “Choose joy,” and we just can’t get there. Are there times when it is impossible to feel joy? There is much being written about this as we approach Simchat Torah. This year, while we will be dancing, it will feel different. Our grief will be mingled with our joy. I expect it will be palpable. That’s OK.  

The book’s name in English comes from the Greek ekklesiastes, a translation of of Kohelet, meaning something like “one who convenes or addresses an assembly”. In fact, the book’s opening verse tells us that it was written by Solomon in his old age. The rabbis agreed that it was Solomon. This is not the Solomon of his youth when tradition says he wrote Song of Songs. Here, he sounds like an old, cranky, bitter man.  (My husband, older than I am disagrees with that analysis) 

Of course, this is Judaism, so there is an alternative reading. That this was written or edited by Hezekiah. The same king who may have also written Isaiah, Proverbs and Song of Songs. Because of the Persian loan words and some Aramaic it cannot be “really” be earlier than 450BCE and since Ben Sira quotes from it in 180 BCE it cannot be later. 

And while I get fascinated by linguistics, I am not sure I really care. This is beautiful and important poetry. Poetry and wisdom we need to wrestle with the meaning. 

Why is it read during Sukkot? I think it is like why we recite Yizkor during the Pilgrimage festivals, Sukkot, Passover, Shavuot. At the times of our greatest joys we are keenly aware of those we miss. At a wedding we break a glass to remind us of the sadness we feel, that our world is not yet complete. The Israelites picked up the shattered pieces of the tablets of the 10 Commandments and put them In the Ark to remind them of their dreams not yet fulfilled. Kohelet is like that. We need to remember not to get too caught up in the joy, in the festivities and to carry over the joy we do have to the rest of the year. 

This book makes that clear. It tells us that it is better to go to a house of mourning, a shiva if you will, than a house of feasting, a house of celebration. Why? It tempers our joy. Perhaps, it also about being needed at a shiva. Your presence provides comfort, continuity, community, connections. It seems particularly appropriate this year where we at CKI have had a number of shivas. Just show up is what Rabbi Sharon Brous argues in the Amen Effect. And you did. Mourners don’t forget who showed up. 

In the most difficult year that I can remember in Israel, people showed up at shiva minyans. All over the county. People showed up. And there are still sukkot standing, waiting for their loved ones to come home. There were still weddings, there were still babies being born. Even in the midst of trauma and tragedy, there was still joy. 

It says in the Talmud that if a funeral procession and a wedding procession cross in a town square, the wedding procession goes first. I sometimes need to teach this if the bride or groom has recently lost a beloved relative. This year I have taught it frequently. Life continues. Life goes on. There is a time for everything. 

We want that sense of joy. We need it.  

We also crave the sense, the knowledge that we are loved. Part of the reason this seems like a bitter old man is the translation we use. We just read, “Futility, futility, all is futility.” Other translations, including the one Thomas Wolfe used is “Vanity, vanities.” That doesn’t sound very encouraging. 

But what if we go back to the Hebrew. Hevel. Breath. All is breath. That is much more encouraging. Sure, breath seems to flutter away. It was a cold morning. Who saw their their breath today? I hope so! It’s a good thing. My mother had COPD, a chronic lung disease. Every breath was precious. She even had a t-shirt, “Remember to breathe.” Breath brings joy. Breath is life. Breath is G-d. Breath is everything. Without breath, there is no life. No ability to praise G-d. 

Our liturgy is filled with these connections to breath. Elohai neshama… O my God, the soul which You have given me is pure. You breathed it into me. 

Kol haneshma, Let every living soul, everything that has breath praise G-d. Nishmat kol chai, The soul of every living being shall bless Your Name. 

One of the things that we know about breath is that is fragile. So too is peace. Our liturgy says “Ufros Aleinu Sukkat Shlomecha. Spread over us the shelter, the fragile shelter, that fragile sukkah of Your peace.”  

Last year, just after the war started, I was coming back from the JUF rally at Northshore Congregation Israel to a Coalition of Elgin Religious Leaders meeting. My co-president and I had decided in light of the war that we would look at prayers for peace from a variety of religious traditions. Every religious tradition has a reading, a prayer, a hope for peace. However, one of our members, another rabbi, felt that we could not pray for peace at this time. Citing Kohelet he reminded everyone that there is a time for everything, a time for war and a time for peace. This, he said is a time for war.  

I did not agree with him. While I believe strongly that Israel has a right to defend herself, the ultimate goal must be peace. Our tradition demands it. We are taught to “Seek peace and pursue it.” (Psalms 34:14) The desire, the hope, the very prayers for peace are sprinkled throughout our liturgy.  

With my very last breath, that G-dly breath, I will use it to praise G-d and work for peace.  

A Guided Meditation:

We were going to take a couple of minutes and do something different. We were going to concentrate on that breath and the sukkah. I have taken a guided meditation by Shimona Tzukernik who writes for Chabad.org and expanded it to emphasize breath. Sit comfortablyy, you can do this on your own. 

Close your eyes. Breathe in deeply. Breathing in, breathing out. It is a cold morning. You can see your breath. Notice how it floats away. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in love. Breathe out stress. Everything is breath. 

U-lekachtem lachem ba-yom ha-rishon pri eitz hadar, kappot temarim, va-anaf eitz avot, ve-arvei nachal 

“You shall take for yourselves on the first day of Sukkot) the magnificent fruit of a tree, the fruit of a a goodly tree, what we call an etrog, together with the leaf of a date palm, fragrant boughs myrtle and willows of the brook.” (Leviticus 23:40) 

Imagine that you are sitting in a sukkah. Its walls are panels of fragrant wood. On the floor beneath you dance patterns of light and shade, cast by the sechach, the scented roof of leaves above your head. Take another deep breath. Imbibe the peace within your sukkah’s walls. Ufros aleinu sukkat shlomecha. God spreads over you a gentle sense of peace. Breathe in that peace. 

The sechach, the roof through which you can see the sun, the moon, the stars, is a shadow cast by a heavenly tree. It is ancient, wide, alive. Nestled within the inner branches, you notice a fruit—a citron, an etrog. It is the heart within the heart of the Tree of Life, and pulsates with G‑d’s infinite love—for you. 

You long to internalize this love. Breathe in deeply. Feel your spine stretch and open. Sit up straight and tall. It is the shape of a palm frond, a lulav. Its pointed tip tapers beyond you, transcending your rational mind, reaching above you, beyond the sechach, into the heart of the tree. Feel the point quiver as the lulav and etrog make contact. G‑d’s love begins to flow down your lulav-spine: downward between your shoulder blades, down, down to its base of your spine, Breathe in that love. 

You feel the warmth of that love at the base of your spine. The love begins to rise up. Radiating. Filling you. It reaches your heart. Look inward at the ventricles of your heart, the corners you reserve for love and hatred, forgiveness and grudges, abundance and stinginess; surrender your need to control the myriad emotions of life to a Higher Being, to the Divine Being, to the Shechinah. Feel the love of the lulav penetrates your heart, as it pieces your heart, your very soul. It awakens you to your higher self. It allows you to let go of the pockets of darkness you use in defense of your ego-I. The darkness gives way to light and love . . . 

Your heart has become one. Whole. Complete. It too is an etrog pulsating with love—for G‑d, for the G‑dly spark within your soul and for the world. Joy surfaces as this hidden, innate love is released. Breathe in that wholeness, that sense of peace 

The love and joy flow outwards, filling your lungs, enabling you to breathe deeply. Rising upward toward your mouth. Your lips are the shape of a willow leaf. Silent leaves fluttering on the winds of love and joy. You have no need to speak; simply being bespeaks the loftiness of your soul. 

The energy flows ever upwards, entering your eyes and seeping into the center of your forehead. Illuminated myrtle eyes. Take a moment to envision your life through the lens of abundance and joy. Observe the way you awaken in the morning, interact with others, the way you pray and play when drenched in love and joy. 

Elohai neshoma. The soul that You, O God have given me is pure. You breathed it into me. 

Sit in your sukkah, spray of etrog, palm, willow and myrtle. You are in a circle of love; you are a bouquet of joy. Breathe in that sense of love, joy, peace, hope. Everything is breath. It is not futile. It is not vain. 

Our study of connections continues. Today’s guest is Chief Ana Lalley of the Elgin Police Department. She builds connections every day, but they were particularly evident as the police department celebrated Halloween. (Her favorite holiday, I’m told.)

Here is what she said:

Community policing at the core is a partnership between the community and their police department who work in unity to identify and solve concerns with the ultimate goal of improving the quality of life for residents.  However, community policing is much more than that.  The drop in crime rates that a community may experience or the improved conditions in a neighborhood are the tangible outcomes of a police department working with the community but the intangibles…trust, respect, mutual understanding, communication, and care, are what sustains these outcomes.   

 When a police department embraces the philosophy of community policing, true and meaningful relationships are built that can transcend barriers.  These barriers may be from past experiences, historical events, or a perception, and can be a hindrance to building true connections that benefit both the community and the police department.  Take for example, an event that a department holds for the community…a coffee with a cop, open house, or citizen police academy.  The event is what brings people together, but the interactions that happen where true engagement occurs, builds the foundation for a better community.  At these events, police officers who actively listen (to both the compliment and the criticism), find perspective, and genuinely believe in the ‘serve’ component of ‘serving and protecting’ begin to lay the foundation for the tangibles of community policing, but more importantly, the intangibles.   

It is always better to leave something, some place, or someone better that when we first arrived…and this happens when genuine connections and relationships are nurtured, fostered, celebrated, and appreciated.  When police departments subscribe to the community policing philosophy and truly dedicate themselves to their community…magic happens.   

Chief Ana Lalley  

Magic…and joy. At a police station. I would have never thought this. Don’t laugh. I learned to hug from the Elgin Police Department. I have been a police chaplain for ten years. Some of what I do in that role is very serious. Death notifications. Death investigations. Sad. Necessary. Handled as best we can with compassion. Often at somebody’s worst possible moment. No one wants to see a police officer and a chaplain show up at their front door.  

And yet, community policing as Chief Lalley says can make magic. It builds connections in the community. And trust. And yesterday I saw them build joy. One part of community policing are community events. I have participated in several through the years, National Night Out in August. Halloween Trick-or-Treat at the Station. And yes, even Christmas.  

This year the chaplains and the social workers combined to bring Inside-Out, the Disney movie, to life. I was Joy. (OK I know it’s my middle name!) Al Keating, the senior police chaplain was Fear. Some kids really were scared of him. Many smiled when they saw us. Some wanted photos with us. And the look of joy throughout the station was priceless. Yes, I found Joy at the police station.