Today’s portion seems difficult to our modern ears. This d’var Torah might need to come with a trigger warning. I will be discussing maternal health and rights, rape, miscarriage and abortion.  

Yesterday I heard an interview on NPR on Science Friday with an author of the book Period. No, not with Anita Diamant who has a book by the same, although I did reach out to her later in the day. This book, by Kate Clancy deals with some of the science behind menstruation 

The goodreads “book jacket” description says:.  

Menstruation is something half the world does for a week at a time, for months and years on end, yet it remains largely misunderstood. Scientists once thought of an individual’s period as useless and some doctors still believe it’s unsafe for a menstruating person to swim in the ocean wearing a tampon. Period counters the false theories that have long defined the study of the uterus, exposing the eugenic history of gynecology while providing an intersectional feminist perspective on menstruation science.” 

Yes, we are allowed to use that word here in the sanctuary.  

Fast forward, or go back in time to this morning’s Torah portion. On Thursday, as part of our usual Torah Study, we wrestled with the beginning of today’s portion. Chapter 12 tells us that a woman who gives birth to a boy child remains in a state of blood purification for 33 days and if she births a  girl 66 days. Why the difference? The notes in Etz Hayyim are not much help. My working at a mikveh was not much help either. 

What is tameh? There are various translations. Impure, unclean, Anita Diamant’s ritually unready. Why the difference between the birth of a boy and the birth of a girl? Doesn’t that just lead to further discrimination of women and girls and their feeling less good about themselves? 

Dr. Ora Horn Prouser, CEO and Academic Dean at the Academy for Jewish Religion, a Bible scholar, taught for me one day after my bone marrow transplant. The participants thought she had a really good interpretation of this complicated topic so we spoke on the phone to get her understanding. She describes tameh this way: “the idea of impurity is a physical substance. It is things that God can’t be around, almost like G-d has an allergy and it is physical and needs to be removed. Clean and unclean are not good words to translate this as. Maybe something that needs to be eliminated. This is not metaphorical. The idea of this, the way I like to think about it, and it is really easy with the pandemic, is it is like a germ, or something that is radioactive. You can’t see it but it will harm you nonetheless and it needs to be removed.” She added, however, that it won’t help with the difference between girls and boys.  

It is clear that our ancients seem to be afraid of various fluids, blood, seminal emissions, skin eruptions of various sorts. These are powerful life forces. There is much to be said about the anthropology of all of this.  

Mary Douglas wrote a powerful book, Purity and Danger about anthropology and pollution, including blood..  Because it was seen as a pollutant, we must not touch blood. IWe must not eat anything with blood. Blood was somehow taboo. It is out of place and therefore scary. You might remember that the first of the 10 plagues was turning the river Nile into blood. That was very scary! 

“Any interpretations will fail which take the Do-nots of the Old Testament in piecemeal fashion. The only sound approach is to forget hygiene, aesthetics, morals and instinctive revulsion, even to forget the Canaanites and the Zoroastrian Magi, and start with the texts. Since each of the injunctions is prefaced by the command to be holy, so they must be explained by that command. There must be contrariness between holiness and abomination which will make over-all sense of all the particular restrictions.” (Mary Douglas, Purity and Danger, 1966 and 2002, page 50) 

Childbirth was scary. A walk through any colonial American cemetery will show you how many women died in childbirth. Our own birkat hagomel which I just recited recently includes a note that it can be said even for a women surviving childbirth. It seems farfetched. Ancient. Not part of our current world.  

It is not. And here is where the trigger warning might be really important. There are several women at CKI who lost children at full term. I have done four funerals for babies who didn’t make it. They are brutal. From my perspective, we are doing better at marking these moments. It used to be true that we didn’t mark the birth and death of a child until they reached 30 days. They weren’t considered a viable nefesh, soul. Others who have been through the experience are mixed on what is helpful.  

When I was studying in Israel, there was an 11 year old girl who was raped on the beach in Tel Aviv. Because of the way the court system is set up there, she had to carry that baby to full term. I’ve been working on issues of sexual assault prevention, rape counseling and maternal health issues ever since. 

In Israel, abortion is legal, when determined by a termination committee, and not used very often with most cases being approved in 2019 (the last year I could find statistics about). They have been declining since 1988 and abortion rates for women of childbearing age are less than the US, 13.2 per 1000 women or Great Britain at 16.2 per 1000 women. In Israel only 9 in 1000 women seek an abortion.  

Maternal health includes more than access to abortion. It includes access to good nutrition, safe housing, birth control, good gynecological care, physicians who listen to women to discern their symptoms and don’t just dismiss something as all in their heads, affordable health care that is independent of just being on their husbands’ plan. Good maternal health care is harder to access if you are black or brown.  

Maternal health care is in our news every day. Including yesterday. In the United States, where the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade, there have been debates over the medication mifepristone, the medication used in abortion and miscarriage care.  

This news alert came out last night from National Council of Jewish Women: 

“As we are about to usher in Shabbat, the Supreme Court issued a stay of Judge Kacsmaryk’s order, which would have banned mifepristone — used in medication abortion and miscarriage care. This means that there is continued and full access to mifepristone. This is a win for abortion access!” 

For now. 

Almost all Jewish Women’s organizations that I could name; Hadassah, Women of Reform Judaism , the Conservative Movement’s Women’s League would all support this decision, and while it will continue to go through the courts in an appeals process, it gives me some hope.  

This drug is important not only for abortions but also for care of miscarriages. Many women miscarry.  

According to the March of Dimes, “Miscarriage is very common. Some research suggests that more than 30 percent of pregnancies end in miscarriage, and many end before a person even knows they’re pregnant. Most people who miscarry go on to have a healthy pregnancy later.” 

Many women mourn the loss of a child to miscarriage, this drug is critical in the aftercare.  

Many women have difficulty conceiving at all. Some have successfully used invitro fertilization, an expensive process. Others do not have access to it, precisely because of the cost and whether an individual’s insurance coverage will allow IVF. Make no mistake, this process is also threatened by the overturning of Roe v Wade. Threats include: 

• The ability to do testing on embryos, such as genetic testing  
• The ability to freeze embryos  
• The ability to move frozen embryos across state lines  
• Embryo disposition  
• Unintended consequences of harm coming to an embryo  
• Miscarriages, and care rendered to the patient 
• Ectopic pregnancies, and care rendered to the patient 
• Conferring Personhood rights on an in vitro embryo 

Another area of concern includes stem cell research. The stem cell controversy is an ethical debate concerning research using human embryos and embryonic stem cells. Not all stem cell research involves human embryos. For example, adult stem cells, amniotic stem cells, and induced pluripotent stem cells do not involve creating, using, or destroying human embryos, and thus are minimally, if at all, controversial. My own bone marrow transplant, also called a stem cell transplant was from my own cells, called autolougos transplant, which has less risks. Nonetheless, I am grateful for all the research done on stem cells, for maternal health and all of our health! 

Maternal health continues to be a risk—both in this country and in Israel to a lesser extent. Our Torah is very clear, we should have one law for citizen and strangr alike because we were strangers in the land of Egypt. We should take care of the widow, the orphan, the stranger. Yet, what I don’t see in our tradition, is the ruling that says we should have one law for male and female alike. 

The question of women’s rights doesn’t end with the right to conceive and bear a child, if that is what you so desire. Today is Rosh Hodesh, the new month of Iyar. Rosh Hodesh is seen as half holiday given to women precisely because as the Talmud states women didn’t give up their gold for the golden calf. (Or maybe because there is some connection between the phases of the moon and women’s menstrual cycles, but I digress). 

In the Talmud, women, children and slaves are exempt from time bound mitzvot. Things like saying the Sh;ma at set times, saying Kiddush, laying tefilin. etc.   Exempt, but not forbidden. If a woman chooses to take it on, then she can be encouraged to do so. We have seen that historically. Michal bat Kushi, also known as Saul, wore tefilin, one of those time bound commandments. Yonah’s wife used to make the festival pilgrimage, Tavi, Rabban Gamliel’s slave used to put on Tefillin. Rashi’s daughters did things that were considered time bound, including wearing tefilin, blowing shofar and one was a mohel.  

Prayer is not forbidden to women. In fact, while the Sh’ma is considered time bound, the Amidah and Birkat Hamazon is an obligation. And yet, there are those who think that women don’t pray, shouldn’t pray and their voices shouldn’t be heard. In the late 1800s, and there are photos of this, women would stand next to men, without even a mechitza and pray at the Western Wall. In 1988, Women of the Wall started to help women gain equal access to prayer at the Western Wall.  It is anathema that women have been spat at, shouted out, whistled, beaten and even arrested in Israel for praying, reading Torah or even lighting a chanukiah.  

There are those who think that the voice of a woman could be so alluring that a man might “spill his seed.” or in the language of today’s portion have a seminal emission. That is why in Israel, depending on which political party in power there are times when you will not hear women’s voices on the radio or even have a woman be allowed to say Kaddish for a parent or other relative.   

I am proud of the work of people like Anita Diamant who understand that the pink tax need to be eliminated. That access of period products and equal access to health care for women, all women need to be increased, I am proud of Congregation Kneseth Israel who have collected period products and donated to the Community Crisis Center (and made sure that they are available in our own restrooms). I am proud of Women on the Brink for doing the same thing,

It is our job, all of our jobs, women and men, to stand up for women rights, here and in Israel, for women’s health, all of our health, here and in Israel, for women’s rights, all of our rights, to practice Judaism in a manner to enrich our connection with the Divine and with Judaism. It begins with today’s portion. Then, and only then will we all be tahara, ritually ready. 

This is the week between Yom Hashoah and Yom Hazikaron followed immediately by Yom Ha’atzmaut. As my dear friend and colleague, Rabbi Menachem Creditor said, earlier in the week it is almost like the Yamim Nora’im, the Days of Awe. These are days set aside to contemplate. To think deeply about the Holocaust and its legacy, the birth of the State of Israel, My father used to describe sitting by the radio the night that the UN voted to partition the land of Israel and create what would become the State of Israel. To hear him tell the story, it was awesome. A modern day miracle. We all know the story. Out of the ashes of the Holocaust, the real, actual ashes, Israel was born.  

That story is complicated. That birth led to complications that to the present day we wrestle with. Maybe that is appropriate since the word Israel, Yisrael, means one who wrestles with G-d and man.  

Wrestle we must. My own history, as you know, with Israel is complicated. Tonight’s remarks are dedicated to the memory of Yuval Berger. We had dreamed of living half the year in Israel and half the year in the States, working with Jewish teens so that they would love Israel and the Jewish people. Only part of that dream was realized. I still get to work with Jewish teens and I love it. He died a hero during the incursion into Lebanon in 1983. 

I often say that if I really thought I could have solved peace in the Middle East I should have gone to the Kennedy School or the Fletcher School and done it. But I am a small town rabbi, what do I know about peace? What right do I even have to express an opinion? 

Israel is complicated. There is the land of Israel. Eretz Yisrael, the children of Israel, bnei Yisrael, and the state of Israel, medinat yisrael. And the people of Israel, Am Yisral. Am Yisrael Chai, the people of Israel lives. We do.  

I have a relationship with each of those, the land, the children, the people and the state of Israel, 

The land of Israel is beautiful, varied, rugged. I lived there. I have hiked it, camped in it, run a marathon there around Yam Kinneret, the Sea of Galilee. The stars in the desert near Masada are like no others. They are awe-inspiring and they make the words of our Torah and our prayers come alive. Sometimes, we read by detractors that Jews don’t have a historical connection to the land of Israel. That’s BS. It is simply not true. The archaeology alone tells us otherwise. So don’t let anyone tell you differently.  Similarly, I get concerned every time I ride spaceship earth at Disney and it tells us that if we can read we should thank a Phoenician for inventing letters. No, even in my fifth grade public school history class we learned about the Hebrew Alef Bet. I swell with pride. Organizations like CAMERA help us sort out fact from fiction. 

The children of Israel, the people of Israel I am deeply connected to. That’s a good thing since I am a rabbi. Even as people, including the Orthodox rabbinate and the state of Israel continue to debate who is a Jew. When I lived in Israel that was a debate about me. Given my name is Margaret and mother’s name was Nelle and her mother was born in Ireland, I needed to prove I was Jewish to even consider marrying Yuval. It was painful, So very painful and some of that continues for others raised as Jews, others who have chosen to be Jews, who want to live in Israel as Jews. We recognize that it was a mixed multitude that left Egypt with the Israelites, that there have always been others who have joined with us.  

I swell with pride thinking about our being the People of the Book, our commitment to education, to science, to tikkun olam. I swell with pride with Gal Gadot or the recent third place runner at the Boston Marathon. I swell with pride thinking about the innovations that come out of Israel, the cell phone, the research at Hadassah Hospital, including new developments with T-cells and immunotherapy that might just prolong my own life.  

The state of Israel is even more complicated story and this is an especially complicated time. But I as a rabbi, even a small town rabbi, have an obligation to speak up and speak out.  

As T’ruah, Rabbis for Human Rights, an organization I have supported for more than a decade, pointed out, “In this tenuous and difficult moment, we must not turn away — we have a responsibility to be in relationship with the State of Israel and help ensure that it upholds and protects the human rights of all its residents. Our tradition compels us to address these contemporary issues and hold ourselves and Israel to this standard.” 

I get concerned when organizations I have supported for decades are threatened. Women of the Wall, founded in 1988, the same year I was married. Parents Circle Family Forum comprised of members who have lost family members to the ongoing conflict promotes dialogue and reconciliation. https://www.theparentscircle.org/en/pcff-home-page-en/   

I swell with pride when I see every day Israelis out protesting for justice. Next week we will hear that our Bar Mitzvah chose his portion to read “You shall not render an unfair decision, do not favor the poor or show justice to the rich. Judge your kinsman fairly.” (Lev. 19:15). In Numbers we are told: “There shall be one law for you and for the resident stranger; it shall be a law for all time throughout the ages. You and the stranger shall be alike before God.” One law, like for Israelis and Palestinians? Israelis and other? Why are we “othering”?  In Deuteronomy it tells us, “Tzedek, Tzedek tirdof. Justice, Justice shall you pursue.”  

People sometimes wonder what the modern implications of these ancient texts are. These are the implications. The State of Israel needs to have just courts and a just judicial system, precisely because it is mandated in Torah. Period. I stand in solidarity with hundreds of thousands of Israelis who have packed the streets for 15 straight weeks demanding nothing less, and as they continue to do so, even after the temporary judicial overhaul freeze went into effect in late March. I stand with the Union of Orthodox rabbis who condemned the increasing violence. Does that surprise you? I stand with the rabbis of the Reform Movement, the Conservative Movement, the Reconstructing Movement, all of whom have issued statements condemning what appears to be a power grab. I stand with American Jews, and Israeli Jews who came out in droves in the US to protest the recent appearance of Israeli finance minister Bezalel Smotrich. That was not a little protest. While there is little agreement on much in Judaism, 73 Jewish groups issued a statement that read: “We pledge to not invite Smotrich to speak at our congregations, organizations, and communal institutions during his visit and to speak out against his participation in other fora across our communities.” Why are people, both here and in Israel so opposed? https://www.haaretz.com/us-news/2023-03-09/ty-article/.premium/over-70-u-s-jewish-groups-vow-to-shun-far-right-israeli-minister-invoking-kahane/00000186-c596-d430-ade7-e79f40950000 

Recently, in my role as police chaplain, I was called to a murder scene. I thought that is what I would be speaking about tonight. I started reading a book called On Killing but it isn’t helping. It seems we have been trying to figure this out since Cain and Abel. We were unequivocally commanded, “Thou shall not murder.” But it doesn’t seem to be enough. People still murder. I cannot seem to understand why we don’t understand that everyone is created b’tzelem elohim, in the image of God, that everyone has a spark of the divine inside. I cannot explain how one person can deliberately kill another. I cannot explain how that murder happened. Or the Holocaust where 6 million Jews were systematically murdered. Or the shooting at school in Nashville or a bank in Louisville or a dance studio in Alabama. There is no one fix. It is not just mental health or video games or violence on TV or easy access to guns.  

These murders are not limited to the United States. I mourn previous violence committed in Israel.  I mourn the death of Yuval in 1983 by a terrorist bomb. I mourn the massacre at the mosque by Baruch Goldstein in 1994. Attacks like these have led to a continuiing, escalating cycle of violence.  

I mourn the murders of Rina, Mail and Lucy Dee. The police beating of Palestinians during Ramadan at the Al Aqsa Mosque, the pogrom, no other word for it in the Palestinian village of Huwara that I spoke about several weeks ago. The violence continually seems to be escalating. What I learned working on my thesis about generational trauma, is that peace cannot come unless the people feel safe. We cannot have an end to violence until there is lasting peace. We cannot have lasting peace without safety and without the recognition of basic human rights for both peoples, for all peoples. We are all created b’tzelem elohim, in the image of God. 

Our tradition is based on creating peace. We are told to “Seek peace and pursue it.” 

Rabbi Amy Eilberg teaches, “Notably, two commandments are explicitly articulated not as responses to a particular situation, but as imperatives to be followed – indeed, pursued – at all times. We are not only to act in accordance with these imperatives passively when the occasion arises. We are to actively seek out opportunities to engage in them. The two cases are the pursuit of justice, of which it is said, “Justice, justice shall you pursue” (Deut. 16:20) and the pursuit of peace, of which it is said, “Seek peace and pursue it” (Ps. 34:15). “ 

Our liturgy is full of references to it. It is the hope of Jews everywhere. We sing Oseh Shalom, Sim Shalom, Shalom Rav. We sing modern songs, Yerushalyim Shel Zahav. L’shanah Ha’ba’ah. My favorite piece of liturgy is, “Ufros Aleinu Sukkat Shlomech, Spread over us, the shelter of Your Peace”. We read the poem that follows in Siddur Sim Shalom by Jules Harlow that reminds us that each month on the new moon and each Shabbat that all people will worship God and search for peace in Jerusalem. And that God, too seeks peace in Jerusalem.

We pray that one day everyone will sit under their vine and fig tree and none shall make them afraid. 

But in order for that to happen, we must stay informed. We must stay engaged. We must work for peace. We must run after it. We must pursue peace and justice. May this be so as we continue our celebration of Israel at 75. 

Today is the 9th day of the counting of the Omer, Gevurah shel Gevurah, strength of strength, discipline of discipline.  

This weekend marks the 10th anniversary of the Boston Marathon bombing. It always marks my return to running. 10 years ago I was sitting on the couch next to my daughter. As I often said, “I just want to run one more.” She had never seen me do one. It seemed like a dream. I had five Bostons to my credit but I hadn’t run in years. I had had a serious car accident in 2007 and at the time people were not sure I could walk, let alone run again. She, the wise one, said, “OK I get that, but maybe you should start with a shorter race.” She had heard about the Disney Princess race series and maybe I could do the half and she would do it with me. We agreed to sign up. Later that day the bombs went off. That sealed it. Boston Strong. 

My good friend Beryl heard an article on NPR—I haven’t been able to find it exactly. Because this is the 10th anniversary there has been a lot of coverage. Her synopsis. Running is a discipline. It certainly is for me. It is even a spiritual discipline. There is something about the rhythm that certainly works for me. Often when I am running I sing our prayers. “V’tahar libeinu, Cleanse our hearts to serve You in truth,” always works well for me. Something about cleansing our hearts given family history of heart disease is especially meaningful. 

There are days when I don’t want to run. I’m too tired. It’s too cold. The weather isn’t conducive. That’s when the discipline kicks in.  

When I asked what examples people have of discipline there were not many answers. One person said that it is her discipline to always answer her phone and to answer emails within two hours. No one seemed to have an exercise discipline. This surprised me.  

Discipline is interesting. Much of our ritual practice is set up as a discipline. It provides structure, limits and meaning. It is part of how we draw closer to God, which is much of what Judaism is about.  

Rabbi Nehemia Polen, a professor at Hebrew College in Boston and my professor for Leviticus, used to talk about the discipline of the sacrifices in the Holy Temple, one in the morning and one in the evening. He likened it as what many of us do with medications, one in the morning and one in the evening. Definitely a discipline. Simon is really good about washing the sheets on Thursdays. It is part of how he prepares for Shabbat. For him it is a discipline. 

When I daven the silent on Amidah as part of Kabbalat Shabbat, when we get to the Modim Anachnu Lach prayer, I try to think of things I am thankful for this week. That’s called kavanah, intention, praying beyond the words in the book. Some weeks, like this one, are easy. Sometimes I argue with myself to find just one thing. Living a life of gratitude is good for our mental health. It is also a discipline.  

This year we are using three books to help us with our counting of the omer, again, a discipline. Omer, a Counting by Rabbi Karyn Kedar quotes Rabbi Rami Shapiro from The Sacred Art of Lovingkindness Preparing to Practice, on Day 9. He says, “We often say the right thing, and then find ourselves resenting it. Talk is cheap, however; our behavior is what really defines us. Listen carefully to your speech; say only what your mean and do everything you say. [This is the talk the talk and walk the walk comment] This requires you to slow down your normal pace of communication. So often we just talk to talk. We say things for the sake of saying things. We exaggerate to ake what we say more interesting. We promise things before we hav determined whether or not we can fulill the promise. Ask yourself three questions before you speak: 

1. Is it true. 

1. Is it kind. 

1. Is it necessary.” 

These words themselves ring true. They require discipline. A tremendous amount of discipline. Discipline of discipline. They lead to strength. Meanwhile, I’ll keep running. Let us all  live with exactly these kinds of spiritual disciplines. 

When you live in a small town and work as a rabbi, you get to do some really unique things. Amongst them, I spoke last night at the First Ron Raglin Scholarship Dinner. I am grateful to his wife, Tena, for her friendship and this opportunity,

During the appetizers, I had the opportunity to see people I hadn’t seen  since before the pandemic. One person asked me if I am still doing and Diversity, Equity and Inclusion work. (DEI). I realized the answer is yes. Yes, when I work with ADL to reduce anti-semitism and racism in a neighboring school district. Yes, when I sit on the Chief’s Advisory Council. Yes, when I attend the Mayor’s Community and Fair and Impartial Training. Yes, as part of the Coalition of Elgin Religious Leaders. Yes, when I teach a course in Comparative Religion. Much of what I do I realize is about DEI. The work most certainly continues.

It comes out of my believe that we are all created b’tzelem elohiim, in the image of the Divine, a belief that Ron and I most certainly shared.

Here is what I said about Ron and the his “Foundation fo Faith:”

Tonight I am supposed to talk about “The Foundation of Faith.” Ron’s faith. Our faith. All of our faiths—whatever they may be. This is the time period where Jews count up from Passover to Shavuot, the feast of Weeks or Pentecost. Each of the 50 days has a special spiritual meaning. This week we actually counted Yesod shel Chesed, The foundation of Lovingkindness. That was Ron, Everything he did was grounded in faith and lovingkindness. Now foundation is an interesting word. One of my teachers, Rabbi Zlotowitz, of blessed memory, my thesis advisor, told the story of one of his teachers (we rabbis are really good at footnoting sources!), who would say, “Boychiks (back in the day only men studied to be rabbis). Boychicks, today we are going to study the basement of Judaism.” He had gotten the word basement and foundation confused. And I can understand that.  

A foundation is the lowest load-bearing part of a building, typically below ground level. (I might add, the place you are supposed to go during a tornado warning. I recently led a service during one!) And a foundation is an underlying basis or principle. Ron’s foundation was faith.  

 The first phone call I got when I came to Congregation Kneseth Israel and Elgin, not from someone who is affiliated with CKI was from this guy at U46, He was the assistant superintendent with this very cool title about equity and justice and it turned out that it was his first week on his new job too. His office wasn’t far from mine, in fact we could see our buildings from our windows. We were the same age. We had the same love of education. Yes, that person turned out to be Ron Raglin.  

We both worked hard, probably too hard, and we cared passionately about kids. So that meant that I didn’t ever get to see him often enough. But he was a presence. I knew he was there and we could walk and meet half way between our offices, or meet at Blue Box for coffee. Make no mistake, his smile could light up a room. 

What you may not know is that Ron was a man of deep faith-it was his foundation. His rock. -It was part of what drove him to excel. (that and Arnie Duncan’s mother! Every one needs a Jewish mother!) We had many conversations about faith and scripture. Boy, did he know his Bible! I appreciated that he would include me, the local rabbi, in his thinking and I always had a seat at the table in his U-46 Faith Leaders Council. 

There is one morning that is seared in my brain. One Shabbat morning, a Saturday, not unlike today, I happened to be up preparing to lead services when the phone rang at 4:30AM. It was Ron. I was afraid someone died, Why else would the Assistant Superintendent be calling at that hour on a Sat? No, thank G-d, Ron was just working on something for the board and he wanted to get it right. Remember that quest for excellence? He was working on a policy about bathrooms and he heard that maybe Judaism had a different understanding of gender. What could I send him to help him understand. After Shabbat I sent him many things. If anyone needs it, I have an article about the Talmud outlining 8 potentional genders, outlined 2000 years ago. I just sent it to a Catholic priest this week. 

Another time, there was a quiet, non-official meeting at Arabica, I can say this now, to talk about how and when and if one teaches religion at all in a public school setting. You can’t talk about the emergence of writing without talking about religion. Or the emergence of cities. You can’t talk about the printing press, or the Reformation or the Pilgrims or Northern Ireland or the Holocaust without talking about religion. You can’t teach Shakespeare without Biblical allusions. There has to be some context. All of these things I learned about in my public school. 

Then there were all those times when there would be some big public speaking joh and I would be nervous. Ron would be right there at my side. He would remind me that I could do it. We would pray–a black evangelical and a Jew. Together. And the speech would be fine and I never actually threw up, I promise not to tonight. More than once I think those prayers helped. Tonight, I am sure he is present and so very proud of all that you, Tena, Marissa and Mattew have done, how the work continues.  

A rabbi is a teacher. So tonight .I want to teach you just a little bit of Talmud. In Pirke Avot, the Wisdom of the Ancestors we learn:  

There are four types of students. Those who are quick to understand but quick to forget; their gain is cancelled by their loss. Those who understand with difficulty but forget with difficulty; their loss is cancelled by their gain. Those who are quick to understand and forget with difficulty; they are wise. Those who understand with difficulty and are quick to forget; they have a bad portion (i.e., bad fortune). — Pirkei Avot 5:14  

That was Ron. making sure that all students could learn. All means all. And you better have the data to prove that all the students  were succeeding. You better pray that you got an email back. Checkmate. 

And we all better never forget that all of Ron: his commitment to excellence, his commitment to all, his commitment to data and even his use of educational jargon that I would tease him about unmercifully was all driven by his deep abiding faith, his foundation of faith. 

If Ron were here, it would seem appropriate that we now pray: The first is an old Girl Scout grace that gives thanks for the food and reminds us of the gratitude for those who prepared the meal, served the meal, the people who decorated and schlepped and God. We have certainly enjoyed this meal and all the work that went into it. 

“Back of the bread is the farmer, and back of the farmer is the mill, and back of the mill is the wind and the rain and the Father’s will.” 

The second is the short version of Birkat haMazon, the Grace After Meal:s  

Brich rachamana malka d’alma, malchi d’hi pita. You are the source of life for all that is and Your blessing flows through me. 

May that blessing from above and the blessing that was Ron continue as we keep his memory alive. His name will always be for a blessing. 

For the Rev. Ginny McDaniel

As Passover wanes and our journey to freedom continues, I want to take a moment and try to answer another puzzle question. Just before Passover a dear friend and colleague called. Ginny McDaniel is a retired UCC pastor who has been called on to preach for four weeks. She and I go way back. I attended her ordination. She was the president of the Greater Lowell Interfaith Leadership Alliance (GLILA) when I was vice president. She moved to Florida and I became president. GLILA was formed one Maundy Thursday, the Thursday before Easter, partly to combat rising hate in that decade. (The 80s maybe?)  We wrestled through the Passions of the Christ together. Tough movie! She sent me her rainbow tallit which I proudly wear on some Shabbat mornings

Here is her question. Explain the difference between “freedom from” and “freedom to.” 

Freedom from and freedom to. Let’s add “freedom of” to that mix.  

Passover is called Zeman Heruteinu, the time of our freedom. Another word for freedom is hofesh, which I usually think of as break or vacation. Hafsakah is another word meaning break.  

What does Zeman heruteinu look like? I spent the next couple of weeks thinking about this, studying it and asking everyone I knew. 

I still love the reading from Simon’s compiled Haggadah, which is what I immediately sent Ginny: 

“Tonight, we participate as members of multiple communities. As Jews, the Exodus is our heritage, and equality, justice and peace are our dreams… 

Freedom from bondage and freedom from oppresion
Freedom from hunger and freedom from want
Freedom from hatred and freedom from fear
Freedom to think and freedom to speak
Freedom to teach and freedom to learn
Freedom to love and freedom to share
Freedom to hope and freedom to rejoice.” 

Freedom includes the ability to ask questions, central to the Passover seder. People who are not free cannot question authority. Freedom includes the ability to rest, to take a nap, People who are not free cannot take time off work, cannot take a nap if they are tired, cannot celebrate Shabbat. Freedom includes the ability to wear what you want when you want to. It is about having choice, freewill and self determination.  

There was a robust discussion about the whole topic as part of our Friday night service. Freedom from are the negative things, things we run away from. The Israelites were running away from Pharaoh and slavery toward freedom. As the reading above illustrates, we hope for freedom from bondage, oppression, hunger, want, hatred, fear.  

Freedom to things are more positive. We have the freedom to teach and learn, to ask questions, to rest, to practice religion how we want, freedom to love (yes, still, at least for now in this country!) 

This parallels a discussion of Isaiah Berlin’s negative and positive freedom. (Thank you to Doug and Melissa, a Lutheran couple in Grand Rapids, MI, for introducing me to this writing).  

“Negative liberty is defined as freedom from–the freedom from restraint on one’s actions, enshrined in such concepts as human and civil rights. Positive liberty is defined as freedom to­­–the freedom to pursue a good life personally and communally, expressed in such rights as the right to vote, the right to organize, the right to education, and the right to pursue economic stability.” 

A fuller analysis of Isaiah Berlin from a Jewish perspective can be found here: https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/negative-and-positive-freedom/  

Our US Constitution guarantees some freedoms as well. Freedom of religion. Freedom of the press. Freedom of assembly. Freedom of speech. And yes, even the freedom to bear arms. But we are not totally free. We cannot yell fire in a theater if there is none and claim freedom of speech as a defense. 

Freedom seems like such a good idea. We can do whatever we want, whenever we want.  Not so fast. We have a moral code, the Torah and as we move from Passover and count up to Shavuot, we celebrate freedom and know we need Torah.

With freedom, as was quickly pointed out, comes responsibility. We have a responsibility to ensure these freedoms, to take care of the widow, the orphan, the stranger, the most marginalized among us precisely because we were slaves in Egypt and did not have the freedom to do so. We knew what it was like to be a stranger so 36 times in Torah it exhorts us to take care of the stranger the same way with the same laws we take care of each other.   

The Jewish Funder’s Network says it this way: “Judaism understood that true freedom is not the absence of bondage, but the presence of justice and purpose. Martin Luther King, Jr. paraphrased the prophets when he wrote that “We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny.” 

“True freedom is the experience we feel when we can live up to our full capacity and potential. The discipline it takes for one to live by the morals and standards with which God has tasked him or her is the greatest liberating experience. One who lives by the whim of his or her desires and impulses is not liberated but enslaved to his natural inclinations and does not have the capacity to truly be free,” says Rabbi Mendel Polter in the Detroit Jewish News. 

As part of our community seder, we wore our neon x-ray glasses to search for freedom. Rabbi Lord Sacks of blessed memory taught that in order to understand the structure of the seder. These x-glasses help us to search for freedom. Our own individual freedoms. We are taught that G-d led us out of Egypt, out of the narrow places with a strong hand and an outstretched arm. We need both. Strength and compassion. Each of us is to see ourselves as we left Egypt, out of the narrow places. In a sense we are reborn into freedom.  

On Sunday we took our Torah School students on a search for freedom. We found our neighbor, Vicar Andrea across the street and we learned that we have the freedom to say, “Happy Easter,” even if that is not our holiday. She sees freedom as water. She called me back. She also sees the flowers that three congregations planted, daffodils, on our corner as a symbol of freedom. We had the freedom to stop and smell the flowers. We even had the freedom to take that walk and be outside, even without coats on a beautiful spring day. We have the freedom to run, and skip, and jump and even do cartwheels. We have the freedom to sing and dance. To sing at the shores of the Sea of Reeds. Mi Chamocha or something else. 

Moshe Dayan said, and this resonated with me, “Freedom is the oxygen of the soul.” May we be enriched with ours search for freedom. Whether freedom from or to. 

https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fpsyg.2019.01193/full  

https://www.bu.edu/sph/news/articles/2017/freedom-to-vs-freedom-from/  

49 years ago today on the Hebrew calendar I became a Bat Mitzvah. It was chol mo’ed Pesach. My rabbi used to say that every student gets just the right portion for them. I am no exception. The Torah portion, which seems odd for Pesach, continues to enrich me and I continue to learn. How is it possible that there is anything more considering this portion caused me to become a rabbi, I wrote my thesis about it and then a book? Sit back. I have found something new to teach.  

This portion picks up the story just after the golden calf. Just after Moses has smashed the 10 Commandments. God and Moses are both tired and angry. God wants Moses to go back up the mountain and get a second set of 10 Commandments. Moses doesn’t want to go. He wants to know why he should lead this stubborn, stiffnecked people. God assures him that God will go with Moses and lighten his burden and give him rest. Moses wants to understand who this god is and demands to see this invisible voice. God reminds Moses that no one can see God’s face and live but that God will hide him in a cleft, a cranny, a crevice of the rock and all God’s goodness, God’s essential nature will pass before him.  

We know that essential nature. Those are the 13 Attributes of the Divine. Adonai, Adonai, el rachum v’chanun. The Lord, the Lord, God, merciful and gracious. Full of lovingkindess.  

For me there has been a puzzle. There are at least two words for love in Hebrew. Ahavah—like in V’ahavta et Adonai Elochecha, You shall love the Lord your God. Or V’ahavta et rayecha kamocha, Love your neighbor as yourself. But our word today, Chesed, is often translated as lovingkindness. This is a puzzle to me. What is the difference between ahavah and chesed? Today, just today I think I solved it! 

Ahavah is emotive. Just like when Isaac took Rebecca to his mother’s tent and he loved her.
“Isaac then brought her into the tent of his mother Sarah, and he took Rebekah as his wife. Isaac loved her, and thus found comfort after his mother’s death.” (Gen. 24:67) 

Chesed as love is an action, even though it is a noun.  

We talk a lot about chesed this week. As we count the omer, 49 days, 7 weeks, the first week is all about chesed. Today is the second day of the counting of the Omer, as we did last night. Mystically it is seen as Gevurah of Chesed, the strength of lovingkindness.  

“Chesed grows in those who do deeds of Chesed.  At the same time Chesed needs to be balanced with Gevurah.  Chesed is G-d Giving Himself unrestrictedly.  If He were to do that then Chesed would totally overwhelm creation.  So G-d Balances His Chesed with Gevurah (restraint).  We need to find this balance in our lives. To perform an act of kindness, without personal gain, is the highest degree of pure and enduring human worth.  Kind deeds between one person and another induce a corresponding flow of kindness from G-d that sustains the world.”  Maharal of Prague Pirkei Avos Artscroll page 17 

Like Benjamin Franklin did in his journals by working on 13 character traits, some Jews do the same thing with the study of mussar. One of those traits is chesed.  

For this morning I want to dive deeper into chesed. How are loving, how are we kind, how do we act with lovingkindness. 

Micah explained it: God has told you what is good! What does your God ask of you, that you do justice, love loving kindness, and walk humbly with your God. – Micah 6:8 Sometimes this is translated as “love mercy” but the idea of loving lovingkindness I think is closer to the Hebrew and makes the point stronger. 

The Talmud teaches: “To walk humbly with your God”; this is referring to taking the indigent dead out for burial and accompanying a poor bride to her wedding canopy, both of which must be performed without fanfare. The Gemara summarizes: And are these matters not inferred a fortiori? If, with regard to matters that tend to be conducted in public, as the multitudes participate in funerals and weddings, the Torah says: Walk humbly, then in matters that tend to be conducted in private, e.g., giving charity and studying Torah, all the more so should they be conducted privately.” (Sukkah 49b) 

This then begins a list. Lovingkindness, We need to take care of the needy bride and bury the dead as acts of lovingkindness.  

We know that Pirke Avot 2:1 teaches us that the world is sustained by three things. We just sang this as we took the Torah out—on Torah, on Avodah, service or worship, and on gemilut chasadim, acts of lovingkingness.  

It is a balancing act. You need all three legs of the stool. The fact that chesed is one of the three pillars on which the world itself stands underlines how very important this soul-trait must be. One of those pillars is ACTS of lovingkindness.  

Doing gemilut chasadim, acts of lovingkindness is the way we emulate God. It is how we walk with God. Two of my very favorite quotes, precisely because they are about our verse in Torah today are from Sifre Deuteronomy Ekev and Sotah 14: 

To walk in God’s ways” (Deuteronomy 11:22). These are the ways of the Holy One: “gracious and compassionate, patient, abounding in kindness and faithfulness, assuring love for a thousand generations, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin, and granting pardon.” (Exodus 34:6). All who are called in God’s name will survive.(Joel 3:5) How is it possible for a person to be called by God’s name? Rather, God is called “merciful”—so too, you should be merciful. God is called “gracious” as it says, “God, merciful and gracious” (Psalms 145:8)—so too, you should be gracious and give gifts for nothing. God is called “just” as it says, “For God is righteous and loves righteousness” (Psalms 11:7)—so too, you should be just.” God is called “merciful”: “For I am merciful, says the Lord.” (Jeremiah 3:12) so too you be merciful. That is why it is said, “And it shall come to pass that all who are called in God’s name will survive.” This means that just as God is gracious, compassionate, and forgiving, you too must be gracious, compassionate, and forgiving. [Translation by Rabbi Jill Jacobs] Sifre Deut Ekev 

Rabbi Samlai taught: With regard to the Torah, its beginning is an act of kindness and its end is an act of kindness. Its beginning is an act of kindness, as it is written: “And the Lord God made for Adam and for his wife garments of skin, and clothed them” (Genesis 3:21). And its end is an act of kindness, as it is written: “And he was buried in the valley in the land of Moab” (Deuteronomy 34:6). (Sotah 14a) 

But lovingkindness is not just charity or warm sympathy as Alan Moranis, the father of modern day mussar points out,  

“The English “kindness” suggests a warm sympathy, a benevolent feeling. The Greek word charis, which denotes kindness (and is the root of the word “charity”) is treated by Aristotle (in his Rhetoric) as one of the 15 emotions. Chesed, in contrast, is not an emotion but an act of benevolence. In fact, if a person does something that is helpful for someone else, and yet does so reluctantly, resentfully, or even spitefully, the deed nevertheless remains an act of chesed because the definition revolves around the benefit done (or at least attempted), not the feeling behind the action…. Chesed involves stretching beyond your current comfort zone to be a source of benevolence to others. It guides our behavior in ways we might not have chosen if we allow ourselves to be guided only by our own inclinations and feelings as they currently steer us. And that is how we grow… We need to be cautious [] around the almost universal translation of the word chesed as “lovingkindness.” To my ear, and maybe to yours, too, loving-kindness suggests being nice. . . Chesed involves acts that sustain the other. This is a dimension of the notion that doesn’t come through so clearly when [we translate chesed as loving-kindness. In the Jewish view, it isn’t enough to hold warm thoughts in our heart or to wish each other well. We are meant to offer real sustenance to one another, and the ways in which we can do that are innumerable: we can offer . . . time, love, empathy, service, an open ear, manual assistance, a letter written, a call made, and on and on… [Action] is the key to opening the heart. It is too easy to think good thoughts and say the right things but then just continue to be stuck in the same old ways. We’re too easy to deceive, especially self deceive. Action is required. Then, through experience, the heart learns and opens, setting off a chain reaction of hearts opening and connecting leading right up to openness and connection to God.” – Alan Morinis, Everyday Holiness 

We will end on this note: 

The word Pesach, I learned this year maybe broken into two words. Peh meaning mouth and Sach meaning conversation.  

“And Rabbi Elazar said: What is the meaning of that which is written: “She opens her mouth with wisdom, and a Torah of kindness is on her tongue” (Proverbs 31:26)? The Gemara asks: Is there, then, a Torah of kindness and a Torah that is not of kindness? Rather, it is Torah studied for its own sake that is a Torah of kindness, as one studies it wholeheartedly; and it is Torah studied not for its own sake but for some ulterior motive that is a Torah that is not of kindness. Some say that it is Torah studied in order to teach it to others that is a Torah of kindness; it is Torah studied with the intent of not teaching it to others that is a Torah that is not of kindness.” (Sukkah 49b). 

I try, I do honestly try to open my mouth, my peh with wisdom and with kindness. I am still working on it. This, then is a public apology to Simon, who bears the brunt of my not being kind when I come home too tired or too hungry. This why mussar and counting the omer and trying to be like G-d is not just a one and done. We work on it every day and every year as we count the omer.  

Let us open our mouths then with these words from Psalms, taught in the melody by Rabbi Menachem Creditor:  

Olam Chesed Yibenah. The world will be build on love. (Psalm 89.3) 

I will build this world on love. You will build this world on love. And if we build this world on love, then G-d will build this world on love. 

Zeh Hayom Adonai, Nagilah V’nismacha Bo.
This is the day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.  

Mizmor shir chanukat habayit.
A psalm of David. A song for the dedication of the House.
I extol You, Adonai, my God,
for You have lifted me up,
and not let my enemies rejoice over me. 

Adonai, This is Your house, a house of books, a library, a sacred space
A place where great futures are made.
Where we come to read 
To dream and explore
To Learn and to teach, to teach and to learn.
May this space, Your holy space be filled 
With quietness and noise,
May it be filled with books and computers
Questions and answers,
Knowledge and Wonder,
Safety and security,
Laughter and joy.
May it be filled with children and staff.
May it be filled with love. 
Your love
And the love of staff for children and children for staff.
May those children learn that books are fun.
They are magical. They inspire. Transform. Transport.
Books offer hope.
That reading is “fundamental.”
That reading is essential. 
That reading helps us understand the mystery of the universe
Filling us with knowledge of the world. 
Bless this library and all who enter it with Your peace.
Amen
     Rabbi Margaret Frisch Klein
     Congregation Kneseth Israel 

 Yesterday I was asked to dedicate the library of the Boys and Girls Club in South Elgin. It is the 5000th club house in the country. I was honored to participate. The new club sparkles. It is filled with light, springtime sun streaming in. It is bright, airy, filled with warmth and love. It is spotless. I’m ready to move in! 

Jews are known as the “People of the Book,” and as the daughter of booksellers, it was thrilling to dedicate this inviting space. We are used to dedicating houses. We place mezuzot on our homes, our synagogues, sometimes our businesses. There are mezuzot on the gates of Jerusalem. These dedications are based on the verse from Deuteronomy that tells us to inscribe these words on our doorposts and on our gates.  

“You shall love Adonai your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your everything. Teach them diligently to your children. Speak of them in your homes and on your way. When you lie down, When you rise up. Bind them as a sign upon your hand and as a symbol before your eyes. Inscribe them on the doorposts of your house and upon your gates.” (Deut. 6:5-9)  

I often tell kids that talking about G-d and Judaism and spirituality can happen anywhere. At home, at Torah School, on the soccer field or the car pool, swinging through the fast food drive through to grab a quick dinner. And the Boys and Girls Club.   

I’ve never been asked to dedicate a library before. I figured someone must have done this and that there would be words, prayers, already written. I found a couple of Catholic ones that didn’t seem quite appropriate so I wrote my own. I wonder whether in a non-sectarian organization it is even appropriate to gather clergy together and pray publicly. However, if the organization is doing so then it feels important to be included. My theology may not completely align with all of those present. However, there was enough that did that I could enthusiastically respond amen to most of the others prayers.  

We all hope that these children feel safe, feel love, be inspired, grow into confident adults. As the Boys and Girls Club website says “It means an hour of help with homework to ace a test. It means a warm, nutritious meal – maybe the only one of the day. It means time with a caring adult to build confidence.” We all want that. We all believe that every child and every adult is created “b’tzelem elohim, in the image of G-d.” We want these kids, all kids to thrive. 

Great futures begin here.

We want the staff to be kind, compassionate, caring and full of patience.  

The whole experience reminded me of two stories.  

When my daughter, who now works for the Boys and Girls Club of Martin County, Florida as their training specialist, learned to read, at age four, we hosted a party for her. We invited her friends on a Saturday evening, gave each kid a book and our daughter her first library card. It was a magical evening. 

 When she was five and just starting school, my father, a retired medical school professor and bookseller, sent her a magical present. It was a beautifully wrapped box. And inside the box was another box and inside that there was another box and finally a zip locked plastic bag. It was his collection of refrigerator magnets. Both the English alphabet and the Hebrew alef bet and a note: “Herein is contained all the ancient Jewish wisdom plus all that accumulated in American/English tradition all reduced, of course, to the essential components” It is our job to reassemble those letters and make meaning. 

That’s what I imagine the kids at the Boys and Girls Club will do in this library. They will read or be read to. They will ask questions and find answers. They will veg out and dream. They may even sleep. They will find a safe respite in their day. They will find caring adult who care about them.  

This is indeed the day that Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.  

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech Ha’olam shehechianu v’kiyimanu v’higianu lazman hazeh. Blessed are You, Lord our G-d Ruler of the Universe who has kept us alive and sustained us and enabled us to reach this moment.  

This is Shabbat Hagadol. The Great Sabbath. The Big Sabbath. This is the week in days of yore that the rabbi would give one of two sermons a year. This one to help you prepare for Passover. So, to be clear: Passover begins Weds night at sundown. In this community it lasts for eight days. (In Israel and the Reform Movement it lasts for 7 days which is the Biblical mandate.) Our community seder is back to pre-pandemic levels and we are excited about welcoming you home. It is a pilgrimage festival, when all the Israelites would have a family reunion of sorts in Jerusalem to offer the paschal sacrifice. It was centralized worship. So welcome home.  

Let’s think more about this. In even days of older yore, Passover was about three things. Matzah. Lamb, and bitter herbs. That’s it. No chocolate covered matzah. No charlotte with wine cream. No Passover blintzes. No carefully purchased cakes from the kosher Jewel. It was all about the matzah. 

The poor bread. The bread of affliction. Just wheat flour and water. Carefully watched. The bread that didn’t rise because the Israelites hurried to flee Egypt. No rye. No spelt. No gluten free. And certainly no egg matzah (my favorite) or that with grape juice or apple juice.  

It was all about getting the children to ask a question. “Why are we doing this?” 

And the response is to be: “It is because of what the Lord did for me, when I went forth from Egypt, out of the house of bondage.” (Ex. 13:8).  

Mitzrayim in Hebrew means Egypt, the narrow places. Each of us, even today, has been freed from some narrow place. This makes the telling of the story of Passover, the maggid section of the Haggadah rich with layers of meaning and discussion. Praised are those who linger over the telling, as the Haggadah itself says. The rabbis of Bnei Brak had to stop their seder to go say the morning Sh’ma! Also a story in the Haggadah. And if you know Simon, his ideal seder goes to midnight with lots of discussion. (Don’t worry, it rarely goes that long!) 

Today’s Torah reading is a little obtuse to our modern sensibilities. We no longer have centralized worship in Jerusalem. We may not care at all about animal sacrifice or the priestly class. Some of that seems to be the focus of today’s Torah portion. Unleavened cakes, yes, that’s matzah, make an appearance in today’s portion.  

Yet there are still implications for us today. Priests were born into the priestly class. After the destruction of the Temple, we don’t have a priestly class per se. Rather, the rabbis taught that each home was a mikdash me’at, a small sanctuary, and that we re-enacted the ritual that priests did. Each of us, then is a priest (pr a priestess) in our own home. That is clear during the Friday night table service, with candles, kiddush and motzi. Perhaps it is even clearer during the Passover seder. 

We are also told that Shalom Bayit, peace of the house is an important Jewish value.  

Today’s haftarah has an important verse that relates to how we tell the story to our children.  

“Lo, I will send the prophet Elijah to you before the coming of the awesome, fearful day of the LORD. He shall reconcile parents with children and children with their parents, so that, when I come, I do not strike the whole land with utter destruction.” 

This is a verse that hints at the messianic age, where everything and everyone will be at peace. We hint at this at the seder when we open the door for Elijah and welcome him to every seder. We hint at it when we welcome Elijah to havdalah and most especially to brises and baby namings with a special Elijah’s chair. We pray at those moments that Elijah will turn the hearts of parents to children and children to parents. 

On Wednesday morning, we will explore another aspect of the Haggadah, the Four Sons, or as I prefer, the Four Children. (Spoiler alert, We’re back to the same verse, Tell you child on that day…and I have a new interesting interpretation.)  It is again about how we tell the story. What did G-d do for me, for you, for each of us as we went forth from Egypt, out of the narrow places.  

In our Saturday morning service we have a reading between Ein Keloheinu and the Aleinu. “Rabbi Elazar taught in the name of Rabbi Hanina: Peace is increased by disciples of sages: as it was said: When all of your children are taught of Adonai, great will be the peace of your children. (Isaiah 54:13)” It goes on to explain why there are two mentions of the word children. They explain that the peace of our children will be great if we teach peace and if we have “true understanding.” It adds, “May there be peace within your walls, security within your gates.” (Berachot 64a) 

Often times I hear things like “the younger generation just doesn’t understand.” Or “we don’t have to listen to them. What do they know, anyway? “ Or “They don’t care.” 

But these texts make clear that we have an obligation to tell our children. To teach our children.  

And then to listen and respond to our children. They are our legacy. Like Honi, before us, it is our obligation to plant for our children—and our children’s obligation to grow those gifts. That’s what stewardship is. That’s what Passover is all about. Leaving a legacy for our children—the story of what G-d did for our ancestors, and for each of us as we went forth from Egypt, out of each of our narrow places. 

I think I may have used this quote recently. Some say it is apocryphal, but it is sourced at leat of Goodreads.com as follows: 

“When peace comes we will perhaps in time be able to forgive the Arabs for killing our sons, but it will be harder for us to forgive them for having forced us to kill their sons. Peace will come when the Arabs will love their children more than they hate us.” 
― Golda Meir, A Land of Our Own: An Oral Autobiography 

Earlier this week, there was yet again another school shooting. Three staff people killed. Three children, nine year olds murdered. I don’t have all the answers. It seems clear to me we need to limit access to guns, enact red flag laws and do background checks. It seems clear to me that we need more access to mental health services. There is no one solution. I will continue to advocate for less violence in general and less gun violence in particular. 

In the predictable responses, one stood out because it parallels what Gold Meir said. “I want to live in a country that loves its children more than it loves guns.” 

I want to live in a country where children are not afraid to go to school. I want to live in a country where we listen to our children. Where a dear friend doesn’t tell me there is no place that is safe and she is afraid to go anywhere. She still does.  

My friend Rabbi Menachem Creditor teaches Torah on youtube and Facebook every morning for UJA-New York. Citing his teacher Rabbi Bradly Shavit Artson from the University of Judaism talks about another part of our extended Torah reading this week. In Chapter 8 of Leviticus, we learn about the ordination of priests. It is a messy, bloody mess. It is not how rabbis today are ordained. Part of what was done was to put blood on the right ear, the thumb of the right hand and the big toe of the right foot. Judaism teaches that faith is what our body does. He didn’t say this, but I am reminded of the verse “We shall do and we shall hear.” The doing comes before we even know what we are supposed to do.  

They cite Philo who explained that the fully consecrated, the priests must be pure in words and action and life because words are judged by hearing. (Reminds me of the Girl Scout law!) For Philo, deeds, actions and our lifes’ journey must be how I devote myself. That’s how we show our service. our faith. Ibn Ezra centuries later said that we must attend to what one has been commanded and that the thumb is the origin of activity. I have to listen well. My feet must walk this earth with purpose, until we take responsibility. Pesach is a journey of freedom. And Tzav tells us we must listen well, we must use our bodies for good and we must keep going.  

Our obligation then, from this Torah portion is to listen, to do and to journey.  

Tell the story. Make peace where there is strife. Listen to our children. To do. And to march. To leave this world a better place.  

Last week, our ritual chair, Gene Lindow, taught some Torah that he noticed because of the calligraphy of the Torah scroll itself. Each paragraph began with “and if.” I am grateful for his noticing and his teaching. And if. What if we live in a world of “And if” or as Judy Chicago put it in a poem I know I have used before.: 

And then all that has divided us will merge

And then compassion will be wedded to power

And then softness will come to a world that is harsh and unkind

And then both men and women will be gentle

And then both women and men will be strong

And then no person will be subject to another’s will

And then all will be rich and free and varied

And then the greed of some will give way to the needs of many

And then all will share equally in the Earth’s abundance

And then all will care for the sick and the weak and the old

And then all will nourish the young

And then will cherish life’s creatures

And then all will live in harmony with one another and the Earth

And then everywhere will be called Eden once again.

Go tell the stories, of our ancestors’ liberation and your own. Go listen to your children. Go make peace.

This is no joke. Heed the weather warnings for your area. There are isolated thunderstorms, hail and yes, even some tornados. No, I don’t believe these are plagues. Even though we are a week out from Passover and this Shabbat is called Shabbat Hagadol, the Great Passover. 

Tonight, we are going to look at how our tradition treats weather phenomena. Precisely because we have had lessons in it right here, right now, this week. 

Some of you are in my adult Hebrew class. We’ve been looking at the prayer Ma’ariv Aravim. The rabbis of the Talmud who codified this prayer and its parallel one in the morning service Yotzer Or. The language is beautiful. Poetic. The rabbis knew that for many people the way into G-d is being wowed by creation. That could be a mountain top (hard in Illinois), an ocean or an inland sea, a sunrise, a sunset, So many possibilities. This week, at the continuation of the changing of the seasons and the beautiful display of planets, I just want to call to your attention one line: You open the wisdom the ages of dawn…set out the succession of the seasons and arrange the stars in the sky.” Tonight, before sunset I took a picture of buds. Spring really is coming! How many of you were able to see the five planets aligned. A rare astrological occurrence. It was awesome! That’s the kind of thing this prayer is talking about.  

If we were to rewrite this prayer for our modern times, it might be full of awe and gratitude. 

Blessed are You, Ruler of the Universe, of time and space, who creates human beings who appreciate nature and are inspired by the changing seasons and the stars in the sky. How ineffable. How mysterious. We cannot fully express our gratitude for the beauty of Your creation. We have the capacity to be loved and give love and give back to the universe and strive for peace. Blessed are You, creator of darkness and light, night and day.  

(During the service there were numerous interruptions as weather alerts kept happening. People said that their sirens were going off. I calmly told people if they needed to go to their basement or find another safe space, they should. We wondered if we should even log off entirely. It was the scariest service I have ever led and I would not want to do it again!) 

Now let’s go back. The kabbalat shabbat service is arranged with 7 psalms, one for each day of the week. Many have something to say about G-d’s creation. Let’s look at snippets of them,  

Psalm 95: “In God’s hand rest the world, God fashioned. Seand and land, abyss and mountain peak. All are God’s. This seems to parallel the beginning of Yotzer Or which praises God for all things. Blessed are You…who forms light and creates darkness, who makes peace and creates all things.” Really? Tornados? Murderers? We’ll have to keep thinking about this! 

Psalm 96: “Let the heavens rejoice. Let the earth be glad. Le the sea and all it contains exalt. Let field and forest sing for joy.” How do we know when the heavens are rejoicing? On a beautiful sunny day? During a beautiful sunrise or sunset? Many of you have told me know during a snow storm but they can be quite beautiful and awe inspiring!  

Psalm 97: God’s lightning illumines the earth. (Trust me, God, I could use a little less lighting and a little less thunder right now. My dog would appreciate that, too ((that may be a prayer!))…Light is stored for the righteous, the tzadikim and joy for the upright in heart.”  

Psalm 98: Let the sea roar, and all its creature; the world and its many inhabitants. Let the rivers applaud in exaltation, let the mountains all echo earth’s joyous song. 

Psalm 29 which we also use during the Torah service talks about the voice of God seven times. This is the powerful, booming voice of God, reminiscent of the 10 Commandments. This is a voice that thunders, roars and echoes. It can shatter cedars and split rocks and strips a forest bare. This is a God to be feared. And yet, it ends on a re-assuring note. God will bless God’s people with strength and with peace. 

Then we get to Psalm 92—the Psalm for Shabbat itself. It praises God, saying “Your works, Adonai make me glad; I sing with joy of Your creation. How vast works, Adonai. Your designs are beyond our grasp! And that may be the point. The Psalmists and the rabbis of the Talmud were right. Being outside in nature is to have a WOW! Moment. To be inspired. To be awed. By the power, the might, the beauty.  

It is especially true after hurricanes. Often some Evangelical Christian pastor will blame a group of people—gays, Jews, blacks, for not living up to God’s word as he (it’s always a he, right?) interprets it and so God is punishing an entire community. Sadly, it is not just Christians. We’ve seen it with some segments of the Orthodox rabbinate too. This logic has been applied to COVID-19 as well. I don’t want to give them any additional air time, so I am not footnoting these references, but you can search for them if you must.  

However, it is not hard to see how they draw conclusions based on our common scripture. In the second paragraph of the V’ahavta which we recite every day from Deuteronomy 11, we are told that if we heed the commandments then G-d will favor our land with rain at the proper season. In autumn and spring we will have an abundance of grain, wine, and oil (All the things we need to make Shabbat!). We will eat to contentment. (I’ve always liked that line!) BUT, if we stray and worship false gods, then God’s wrath will be directed against us.  

Some have argued that this is only for the land of Israel. Others have argued that it is a very early warning about climate change. I have a hard time, as I said at the beginning blaming people for causing the wrath of God. Thinking that God is punishing us for some sin or other.  

Back then, the writers of our sacred liturgy that we use today didn’t have the scientific knowledge that we have today. Do I think that God is sending tonight’s weather as a punishment for something we have done, or not done? No. Absolutely not. 

But I am still wowed by the view from a mountain top or a sunset over Lake Michigan and I add my voice to rabbis of long ago. “Could song fill our mouth as water fills the sea and could joy flood our tongue like countless waves. Could our lips utter praise as limitless as the sky and could our eyes match the splendor of the sun. Could we soar with arms like an eagle’s wings and run with the gentle grace as the swiftest deer, never could we fully state our gratitude.” That’s awe.  

(More wind. Lights flickering. Remember to breathe. Ruach, is breath is Hebrew. It is also spirit. Ruach. Remember to breath.) 

Hannah Shenesh penned a poem much more recently than the rabbis of the Talmud or the Psalmists:
O Lord, My G-d, I pray that these things never end.
The sand and the sea.
The rush of the water.
The crash of the heaven.
The prayer of the heart. 

This is my prayer tonight! 

(If the only Torah I taught tonight was pekuach nefesh, preserving a life, I think I succeeded. I hope I was a non-anxious presence, through the wind, rain and hail. We were lucky. We had no damage. We never lost power. I have some friends in a neighboring town with significant tree damage and a fence. We mourn the loss of live in Belvedere when a roof collapsed, killing one and injuring 40. Two remain in critical as of this writing.) 

Vayikra. And God called. (He actually because Hebrew is a gendered language and this is a masculine, singular past tense verb. Yes, today you may learn some Hebrew grammar) Usually, as Myrna will tell you the Torah uses a different verb here. “Vayomer Adonai el Moshe la’mor. And the Lord said to Moses saying.” or “ Vaydaber Adoani el Moses. And the Lord spoke to Moses.”  

Why then is this Vayikra? We use this verb to also mean Proclaim or Read. This morning we are going to read Torah, we are going to publicly proclaim Torah, to call it out. We use the same word for saying the Sh’ma outloud, when we recite the Sh’ma it is called It is called Kriat Sh’ma, in Hebrew. 

This verb ends in an aleph—the first letter of the Hebrew alef bet, and as we know a silent letter. In every Torah as part of the scribal art the letter is written as a little letter. I call it the little alef that could. 

This silent letter is so important. There are a number of midrashic interpretations about why it is small. Perhaps because it points to Moses’ humility. Perhaps it shows a compromise between Moses and God. Moses apparently wanted to write Vayikar, and he happened which is what occurred in the description of Balaam. But this was no chance occurrence. It denotes a meaure of affection and intimacy. Therefore God wanted an aleph, so they compromised; and it was written small. (Bereishit Rabbah 52 and Leviticus Rabbah 1) 

Rabbi Avi Weiss echos that thought when he says, The small aleph of vayikra: Infinite love between God and the Jewish people” 

But what is God calling Moses to do? God calls out of the tent of meeting, the tabernacle, the mishkan to tell Moses to tell the people to draw close to God by offering sacrifices. Leviticus is often complicated for us today. We are not so into animal sacrifices in the mishkan or in the Temples that were destroyed thousands of years ago. And yet, we may long to draw close to God. We may feel called to do so.  

We began this discussion last night. Moses is called. He has a unique job, to lead the people of Israel out of Egypt and to lead them wandering in the wilderness. It appears that he did not get to complete his task, we will learn much, much later in Deuteronomy. Pirke Avot teaches, “Ours is not to finish the task; neither are we fee to ignore it.” 

Moses is not the only person in the Torah who is called.  

וַיִּקְרָ֛א יְהֹוָ֥ה אֱלֹהִ֖ים אֶל־הָֽאָדָ֑ם וַיֹּ֥אמֶר ל֖וֹ אַיֶּֽכָּה׃  

God יהוה called out to the Human, Adam, and said to him, “Where are you?” 

And their answer, they did not draw close to God, instead, Adam and Eve run away from G-d and hide.  

Hearing the silent sound of aleph can be hard. There is another important alef. Rabbi Larry Kushner tells this story in his book, The Book of Miracles, “No one really knows for certain what happened at Mount Sinai. Some people believe that G-d dictated the entire Torah word for word. Others believe that it included the Oral Law as well. Some believe that G-d inspired Moses. In Makot 23a and b, the rabbis of the Talmud were having just such an argument—what happened at Sinai. It teaches us that G-d didn’t give the ten commandments, but only the first two sayings. One who remembers that there is a G-d who frees people and who has no other gods will be religious. Another rabbi argued that it was just the first saying. Still another said that it was just the first word of the first saying, Anochi. But Rabbi Mendl Torum of Rymanov said, “Not even the first word. All G-d said was the first letter of the first word of the first saying, the first letter of the Alef-bet, alef” Now this is somewhat problematic, since Alef is silent. Almost but not perfectly. You see alef makes a tiny, little sound that is the beginning of every sound. Open your mouth (go ahead, do it). Stop! That is alef. G-d made the voice of Alef so quiet that if you made any other noise you wouldn’t be able to hear it. At Sinai, all the people of Israel needed to hear was the sound of Alef. It meant that G-d and the Jewish people could have a conversation.” 

When I first thought I wanted to become a rabbi, I tried to talk about it in the language of call. After all, I grew up in Grand Rapids and I had friends who felt “called”. At that stage, people closest to me thought perhaps it was a mental health issue. That I was hearing voices (I was not) and the Jewish community at that stage was not comfortable with this language, having ceded it to Christianity. Often times in theology that there is a pendulum that swings and now it is more acceptable to talk about the rabbinate this way. But calling is not limited to professional clergy.

Each of us is called to do something. Each of us can hear the silent sound of aleph. Something unique just for us, some role we play. Last night I talked about how for Ken that might be his shofar playing. (He’s still thinking about that) For Gale it might be telling the stories of her parents and Ken’s who were Holocaust survivors. She agreed. 

Teachers often describe their work as a calling. Doctors, nurses, first responders. But not just those. Rabbi Jeffry Salkin in his book Being God’s Partner that I describe as What Color is Your Parachute for Jews tells this story: 

“The boss of the moving crew was a delightful, crusty gentleman, a dead ringer for Willie Nelson. I had never met anyone so enthusiastic about his or her work, and I asked him the source of that enthusiasm. 

“‘Well, you see, I’m a religious man,’ he answered, ‘and my work is part of my religious mission.’ 

“‘What do you mean?’ I asked. 

“‘Well, it’s like this. Moving is hard for most people. It’s a very vulnerable time for them. People are nervous about going to a new community, and about having strangers pack their most precious possessions. So, I think God wants me to treat my customers with love and to make them feel that I care about their things and their life. God wants me to help make their changes go smoothly. If I can be happy about it, maybe they can be, too’” (Jeffrey Salkin, Being God’s Partner). 

A Hasidic disciple once asked his master: “Rebbe, where is God to be found?” And the rebbe answered, “God is found wherever he is allowed in.” The possibility to live a meaningful and spiritual life is right there for the asking. We only have to decide to take the step and open that door in our lives. 

Frederick Buechner, of blessed memory has said that “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” 

Our calling may be our work. It may be something as Buechner suggests we are passionate about whether that is paid work, our vocation or our avocation, those things that we do as our volunteer work. Many of us in this group are retired. We might not want to be defined by our “work.” 

Work in Hebrew is a word that fascinates me. Avodah. It also means service and sacrifice. The Israelites were avadim—slaves and Moses was an eved Adonai, a servant of the Lord. Service and sacrifice helps us to draw close to God.  

Our calling could be being a Girl Scout leader, coaching a soccer team, serving on the board of a non-profit—or even a synagogue, maybe even this synagogue. It maybe donating blood. Or working to eradicate hunger or homelessness or to address environmental issues. It could be bringing the gift of music to life. Or working as an election judge. (Did you know that suburban Cook County still needs 1000 election judges for next month’s election, according to the Chicago Tribune?) For much of Simon’s family it revolves around refugee work coming out of their understanding of how the US treated Holocaust refugees here and the mission from Torah of welcoming the widow, the orphan and the stranger because we were strangers in Egypt. A perfect pre-Passover message. 

Our vision statement includes a plank about meaningful observance. That is a complicated phrase. What is meaningful to you may not be meaningful to me or to the person sitting next to you, in the room or on Zoom. Striking a balance so that most people at CKI can find meaning is part of my calling.  

Finding your unique calling helps you find meaning. 

Victor Frankl, himself a Holocaust survivor having been in four concentration camps himself, wrote Man’s Search for Meaning and discovered that those who had a sense of purpose did better in concentration camps. He concluded that “We can discover this meaning of life in three different ways: (1) by creating a work or doing a deed; (2) by experiencing something or encountering someone; and (3) by the attitude we take toward unavoidable suffering.” And while he is most known for his work on logotherapy and his work on meaning. The Viktor Frankl website points out that he had a thriving career before the war. “In 1930, at the age of 25, he organized free youth counseling centers in Vienna that successfully combated the epidemic of teen suicides occurring around the time of report cards. Within a year, suicides dropped to zero.” https://viktorfranklamerica.com/viktor-frankl-bio/ That is quite some calling. A purpose. A mission.  

Our recent book group book, Defending Btitta Stein, hints at this search for meaning. Emma, Britta’s granddaughter in debating with co-counsel whether to ask for a continuance of a trial to prove that Britta’s allegations and graffiti are true and thus not defamatory about a “Nazi collaborator” says, “I know, but she doesn’t want us to continue the trial date [She’s 92 and in the hospital]. In some ways I think the trial is giving her energy. It has focus. It’s become her mission.” (page 293) 

Each of us has a niche, like the moving man. A mission like Britta. A calling, a vision, a purpose. It is what gives us meaning and helps draw us closer to God.  

Figuring out what our calling is can be hard.  It can be hard to hear that silent letter Alef. However, if we can be quiet enough, we can hear it.