On the third Friday of the month we have a Kabbalat Shabbat service called Shabbat Zimrah, the Sabbath of Song. Our music director is a highly talented and creative jazz pianist. He also directs our choir. He has written a number of liturgical pieces including a haunting Adonai, Adonai for the High Holidays. He has written a bridge between Debbie Friedman’s Ahavat Olam and the Sh’ma and often times our introduction about Ahavat Olam is that it is the ultimate love song between G-d and the Jewish people. For years in this bridge I can hear the heart beat. For me it is a very spiritual moment in the service and often it will produce chills.

I have been taking a class since the beginning of January called “Receiving and Extending Love” by the Institute of Jewish Spirituality. It has focused on meditation around three of our central prayers, Ahavah Rabbah, S’ma and V’ahavta. I like to say the Sh’ma, the proclamation that G-d is One is blanketed by love, G-d loves us and then we love G-d.

Last night he began by playing the theme song from the movie Exodus. Earlier in the week the book group met to discuss the book Red Sea Spies. A fascinating look at how the Mossad rescued thousands of Jews from Ethiopia by setting up a luxury dive school resort on the coast of the Sudan. A big part of it was set in 1981, the year I lived in Israel and was dating my first finance, an Israeli soldier who was killed in the incursion into Lebanon in January of 1983. I had already been thinking about times that we were swimming in the Mediterranean off the coast of Haifa. We spent a lot of time swimming that fall.

The Barchu we do during Shabbat Zimrah is one I learned bouncing on a bus in Israel as part of a NFTY summer program. I was already thinking about the power of love when we got to Ahavat Olam. Ahavat Olam has a line in it: . כִּי הֵם חַיֵּינוּ וְאוֹרֶךְ יָמֵינוּ, Ci hem hayyeinu, Because they (the commandments) are our life and they lengthen our days.

For some reason, this line was very powerful last night. My word for the year is Hineini. I am here. I am still here. The Torah has lengthened my life. It is a sign of G-d’s deep love not just for the Jewish people but for me personally. Some might argue that it isn’t fair. That Yuval didn’t have to die. That may be true. But last night, this prayer provided a deep connection and a deep sense of love. And there was a sense that I was in the right place and the right time and that somehow Yuval approved. Henieni. I am here. Ahavat Olam. Ahavah Rabbah. A great love.

The feeling is ephemeral. Impossible to hold. But it was there. However fleetingly.

This is the music that we used in our class last week that I found to be very moving. https://shiryaakov.bandcamp.com/track/we-are-loved

Last night we talked about Rabbi Everett Gendler, of blessed memory and Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel and the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, jr.  

Today we are going to talk a little more about Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, whose birthday was observed this week and whose yahrzeit, the anniversary of his death is this weekend.  However, like we have been saying the last few weeks, perhaps more than a birthday or a yahrzeit, is the dash between those dates, the life between. Abraham Joshua Heschel lived that dash. Abraham Joshua Heschel lived a life of meaning, creating meaning for us all. Abraham Joshua Heschel was a giant amongst late 20th century rabbis.  

Born in Warsaw, on January 11, 1907, he escaped Poland with the help of both Hebrew Union College and the Jewish Theological Seminary. He became a professor of Jewish mysticism at JTS and a leader in the civil rights movement as we discussed last night.  

Heschel was the author of a number of books—and if you haven’t read one, I urge you to. Yes, that is a book review! His prose is like poetry and there is a majesty, an elegance, a passion that makes it soar. I contend his writing is in a style like that of Thoreau or Emerson. That elegance and passion is hard to find in other places. I actually have always wanted to write an academic paper comparing the styles because I think that his style is more accessible to Americans precisely because it reads like Emerson and Thoreau. One day.  

Meanwhile, his books, God in Search of Man, Man is Not Alone, The Prophets, Moral Grandeur and Spiritual Audacity, Insecurity of Freedom have much to teach us, even today, in now the 21st century. Especially now in the 21st Century. We need Heschel more than ever. 

This weekend is also my own father’s yahrzeit, His definition of a Jew, as I have taught you before was someone who questions, thinks and argues. Perhaps he had heard Heschel on that topic: 

“We are closer to God when we are asking questions than when we think we have the answers.” 

However, if he were debating my father—an interesting concept on its own, he would have said: “Who is a Jew? A person whose integrity decays when unmoved by the knowledge of wrong done to other people.”
― Abraham Joshua Heschel, Moral Grandeur and Spiritual Audacity: Essays 

This week we read the beginning of the Book of Exodus, Sh’mot in Hebrew. Names. When Moses is shepherding sheep for his father-in-law Jethro, he sees a bush that is on fire; but it is not consumed. He takes off his shoes because he knows he is standing on Holy Ground. He answers the voice of G-d, the call of G-d by saying “Hineini, Here am I”. Fully present and aware. Full of awe.  

Heschel understood that sense of awe.  

“Our goal should be to live life in radical amazement… get up in the morning and look at the world in a way that takes nothing for granted. Everything is phenomenal; everything is incredible; never treat life casually. To be spiritual is to be amazed.” 

 When I was young and my father was a professor at Northwestern, we didn’t spend Saturday mornings in shul. We spent them at rallies and vigils and demonstrations, on issues that my father was passionate about. The climate. Nuclear disarmament. Civil Rights. Or we were out in a forest, experiencing that radical amazement, although my father problem lacked that vocabulary. 

Much of my own activism, then can be tied back to my father or to Heschel’s comment after marching with King, “My feet were praying..” This Martin Luther King Weekend I challenge you to figure out how your feet can pray. 

Perhaps my favorite Heschel book is The Sabbath, just a short book of only 118 pages. Like many of his books, it seems you could open it at random and just read a paragraph, any paragraph and savor it. The publisher’s review on goodreads says: 

“Elegant, passionate, and filled with the love of God’s creation, Abraham Joshua Heschel’s The Sabbath has been hailed as a classic of Jewish spirituality ever since its original publication-and has been read by thousands of people seeking meaning in modern life. In this brief yet profound meditation on the meaning of the Seventh Day, Heschel introduced the idea of an “architecture of holiness” that appears not in space but in time. Judaism, he argues, is a religion of time: it finds meaning not in space and the material things that fill it but in time and the eternity that imbues it, so that “the Sabbaths are our great cathedrals.”  

Heschel explains the Sabbath this way: 

“Shabbat comes with its own holiness; we enter not simply a day, but an atmosphere. My father cites the Zohar: the Sabbath is the name of God. We are within the Sabbath rather than the Sabbath being within us. For my father, the question is how to perceive that holiness: not how much to observe, but how to observe. Strict adherence to the laws regulating Sabbath observance doesn’t suffice; the goal is creating the Sabbath as a foretaste of paradise. The Sabbath is a metaphor for paradise and a testimony to God’s presence; in our prayers, we anticipate a messianic era that will be a Sabbath, and each Shabbat prepares us for that experience: “Unless one learns how to relish the taste of Sabbath … one will be unable to enjoy the taste of eternity in the world to come.” It was on the seventh day that God gave the world a soul, and “[the world’s] survival depends upon the holiness of the seventh day.” The task, he writes, becomes how to convert time into eternity, how to fill our time with spirit: “Six days a week we wrestle with the world, wringing profit from the earth; on the Sabbath we especially care for the seed of eternity planted in the soul. The world has our hands, but our soul belongs to Someone Else.” 

“The Sabbath is a reminder of the two worlds—this world and the world to come; it is an example of both worlds. For the Sabbath is joy, holiness, and rest; joy is part of this world; holiness and rest are something of the world to come.”16”
― Abraham Joshua Heschel, The Sabbath 

So Shabbat has been described as a palace of time and space. A taste of the world to come.  

He also attempts to answer the question of how do we get there: 

“The solution of mankind’s most vexing problem will not be found in renouncing technical civilization, but in attaining some degree of independence of it.”
― Abraham Joshua Heschel, The Sabbath 

“Architecture of Time       Technical civilization is man’s conquest of space. It is a triumph frequently achieved by sacrificing an essential ingredient of existence, namely, time. In technical civilization, we expend time to gain space. To enhance our power in the world of space is our main objective. Yet to have more does not mean to be more. The power we attain in the world of space terminates abruptly at the borderline of time. But time is the heart of existence.”
― Abraham Joshua Heschel, The Sabbath 

I challenge you this weekend, this life to do three things. Know that the ground you are standing on is holy. Know that your feet can be praying. Know that you can live in radical amazement, if you but pause, be fully present and filled with awe. Hineini. Here am I. Ken yehi ratzon.  

This is Martin Luther King, jr, weekend. It is also the weekend we mark the birthday and the yahrzeit of Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel. Rabbi Heschel was introduced to King by my own rabbi, Rabbi Everett Gendler, of blessed memory.  

“Rabbi Gendler met Dr. King for the first time on August 27, 1962, in Albany, GA. This photo was taken during a planning meeting for the vigil that would take place the following day. Dr. King asked this group of inter-faith, inter-racial clergy if they would participate in a non-violent prayer vigil, knowing that they may be arrested (it turned out that they were). All hands went up. It’s easy to think back on the civil rights movement and assume that we would all stand up to bigotry, inequality, and racism – potentially endangering our bodies, our careers, and our families all in the name of justice. But it isn’t now, and it wasn’t then.” said Gendler’s niece Emily. 

Perhaps the more famous photo is of King and Heschel and Gendler at Arlington National Cemetery in 1968.  

Tonight I want to share with you again, because it bears repeating, part of a speech that Heschel gave 60 years ago tomorrow, January 14, 1963 at a conference on Race and Religion, right here in Chicago.

60 years ago.  

On January 14, 1963, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel gave the speech “Religion and Race,” at a conference of the same name that assembled in Chicago, Illinois.  There he met Dr. Martin Luther King and the two became friends.  Rabbi Heschel marched with Dr. King at Selma, Alabama in 1965.  The speech Rabbi Heschel gave at the 1963 conference appears below. 

“At the first conference on religion and race, the main participants were Pharaoh and Moses. Moses’ words were: “Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel, let My people go that they may celebrate a feast to Me.” While Pharaoh retorted: “Who is the Lord, that I should heed this voice and let Israel go? I do not know the Lord, and moreover I will not let Israel go.” 

The outcome of that summit meeting has not come to an end. Pharaoh is not ready to capitulate. The exodus began, but is far from having been completed. In fact, it was easier for the children of Israel to cross the Red Sea than for a Negro to cross certain university campuses. 

Let us dodge no issues. Let us yield no inch to bigotry, let us make no compromise with callousness. 

In the words of William Lloyd Garrison, “I will be as harsh as truth, and as uncompromising as justice. On this subject [slavery] I do not wish to think, to speak, or to write with moderation. I am in earnest—I will not equivocate—I will not excuse—I will not retreat a single inch—and I will be heard.” 

Religion and race. How can the two be uttered together? To act in the spirit of religion is to unite what lies apart, to remember that humanity as a whole is God’s beloved child. To act in the spirit of race is to sunder, to slash, to dismember the flesh of living humanity. Is this the way to honor a father: to torture his child? How can we hear the word “race” and feel no self reproach? 

Race as a normative legal or political concept is capable of expanding to formidable dimensions. A mere thought, it extends to become a way of thinking, a highway of insolence, as well as a standard of values, overriding truth, justice, beauty. As a standard of values and behavior, race operates as a comprehensive doctrine, as racism. And racism is worse than idolatry. Racism is satanism, unmitigated evil. 

Few of us seem to realize how insidious, how radical, how universal an evil racism is. Few of us realize that racism is man’s gravest threat to man, the maximum of hatred for a minimum of reason, the maximum of cruelty for a minimum of thinking. 

Perhaps this Conference should have been called “Religion or Race.” You cannot worship God and at the same time look at man as if he were a horse.” 

The essay continues and you can read the full text here: https://www.blackpast.org/african-american-history/1963-rabbi-abraham-joshua-heschel-religion-and-race/  

However, the work is still not done. Still. Almost since being in Elgin, I have served in various capacities through the city and the Coalition of Elgin Religious Leaders on the topic of Policing and Racism. Before Ferguson, that committee was already meeting. After Ferguson I was asked to attend a silent vigil of religious leaders in Ferguson. I was already a police chaplain but not very active. I served at the request of the mayor who felt that my background in domestic violence counseling might be helpful. Before I went to Ferguson, I called the mayor and the then police chief. I thought maybe Elgin had a better model of poicing.I went with their blessing. Rabbi Maralee Gordon and I rode together and spent time with my good friend Father Jack Lau who was then stationed at a noviate near Ferguson on the Illinois side of the river. It was, as he said, his WalMart that got torched during some of the demonstrations. We went. We sang Wade into the Water for four hours, the same length of time that Michael Brown lay in the street. We were soaked. I lost a pair of shoes that day in the unrelenting rain. Michael Brown has lost his life. Let’s pause for a moment.  

Jack and Simon went on to attend the 50th anniversary of the march across the Petis Bridge in Selma. Selma—let’s pause for a moment since just experienced a tremendous tornado.  

Then the unthinkable happened here. A young black woman was shot to death on the Tollway by a white EPD lieutenant. It seemed to fit the national narrative. I’ve watched that film more times than any one should. I still can’t see the second knife, even when it has been circled in red for me. I have heard all the explanations and justifications. I am sure that there are people in this room and on Zoom who don’t agree with my analysis. I am still not sure that it does fit the national narrative. After the car was set on fire, I am not sure that any of us could possibly know what we would have done. With all the best training in the world. 

This is what I do know. Systemic racism is real. It exists. It is insidious. And yes, it exists in Elgin. At the EPD and even right here at CKI.  

It takes as Heschel suggested 60 years ago, and 3500 years ago. Work. Lots of it. Tomorrow morning will be the 38th annual Martin Luther King Prayer Breakfast. I won’t be there. I will be right here leading services. There are other ways that CKI people can participate in the activities this weekend. Donate to the annual Martin Luther King Food drive. As we know for every dollar donated, Food for Greater Elgin can purchase eight dollars of food. Attend the premier of the documentary, Invented Before You Were Born, about a plantation family, the Bibbs of Kentucky, that freed their slaves before the Emancipation Proclamation but has a complicated history that is worth exploring.  

As part of the Martin Luther King commission, I had the honor of nominating Detective Dan Rouse for the Martin Luther King Humanitarian Award. He has been a good friend to CKI, helping with our cameras and security. But more than that, he is doing this work. At the EPD and the wider community. He and I attended a six week discussion group, Elgin Study Circles, run by Cathy Gaddis, on racism for leaders in Elgin. He took that model and created similar discussion groups at the Elgin Police Department. Safe, non-judgmental spaces where officers can explore their implicit bias, where they can discuss their fears, concerns, whatever. 

Why do I spend so much time at the EPD? Why do I work so hard on dismantling racism. When I took a course from Facing History and Ourselves about teaching Holocaust I learned, all the way back before Sarah was born about the deep connection between racism and anti-semitism. People who are racist are also often, sadly anti-semitic as well. It has been said that anti-semitism is the canary in the coal mine. As an example, the book Caste makes the compelling argument that much of the Nuremberg laws and the beginnings of the Holocaust were based on the Jim Crow laws here in the states. That is part of why the work we are currently doing to bring The Thin Edge of the Wedge, the Holocaust play written by someone who grew up right here in Elgin at CKI and U46 is so important. That is why my being a police chaplain and our visibility is so important. I will continue this critical work. Like Heschel, I believe my feet are praying. 

This weekend, sadly we mark the one year anniversary since an armed gunman held hostage four individuals at the synagogue in Colleyville, TX. Our president, Robin Coyne, read the following prayer that the rabbi from Colleyville penned for this occasion and sent out by the ADL.  

Prayer for Peace
Written by Rabbi Charlie Cytron-Walker

In a world that’s broken and shattered,
Plagued by indifference, falsehood, and corruption,
We feel the uncertainty.
We feel the pain.
And we are not helpless.

God, we pray for peace:
For wholeness and healing,
For safety when violence touches us all.

God, we pray for peace:
For justice and compassion,
For acceptance in the face of hatred. 

We will not be held hostage to hopelessness.
We pray for peace.
We struggle for peace.
We bring peace.
We will be whole.
God, help us be whole as we pray for peace. 

“And he lived.” That’s how this week’s Torah portion begins, but the verse ends with Jacob’s death. 

The same thing happens at the beginning of the Torah portion when we’re told that Sarah died; it’s called “the life of Sarah.” As we discussed last week, what happens between birth and death is important. It is the stuff of dreams and visions. It is like the poem that we read last week as we were setting intentions for the coming year. The poem is called “The Dash”. https://lindaellis.life/ which has been quoted many times, including recently at the funeral of Senator Bob Dole. 

I agree with Rabbi Jennifer Singer who said this week that she loves that the Torah reminds us that death is preceded by life. “In both these cases Jacob and Sarah, death was preceded by a long, full life, a life filled with ups and downs, trial and tribulations” I would add that neither Sarah nor Jacob were perfect. And that is something worth remembering as we wrap up the reading of Genesis this morning. They are our matriarchs and patriarchs but they were not perfect. So then, what do we learn from their lives? What do we hope to emulate? 

Jacob does two things that may seem surprising as he is about to die. The first is he extracts a promise, a vow really from Joseph that Joseph will bury him not in Egypt but in the same cave back in the Land of Israel, in Canaan in which his ancestors are buried.  

We talked a little about this at Torah Study this week. Then I read an article in the Forward https://forward.com/news/530750/jewish-cremation-rabbis-burial/ that many rabbis are choosing to address this topic this week. My rabbi, Rabbi Neil Kominsky, has said that you are not really an adult until you know where you are going to be buried, or said another way: what your final plans are. He reports that he heard that first from Rabbi Larry Kushner. Perhaps, I would add, even more important is making sure that your kids know what those plans are. That is exactly what Jacob does here. Promise me that you will bury me in the Cave of Machpeleh.  

The article in the Forward went on to say that 58% of all Americans are now choosing cremation. Rabbi Elchonon Zohn, quoted in the article is himself an Orthodox rabbi who believes we have what he calls a cremation crisis on our hands. He wants rabbis to address this very pressing problem and to talk to congregants also about other end-of-life issues, including, “purchasing a grave and about having a living will and life insurance.”  

Rabbi Zohn, and others want more Jews to choose burial over cremation but realize they are up against compelling financial and ecological issues. Usually, burial costs significantly more that cremation, although the cost for cremation, like everything else, is also creeping up.  

One thing to keep in mind is that the Talmud teaches that we should look and see what the people are doing. If 58% of Americans are choosing cremation now, the expected rate will be 80% by 2040—and it is suspected that it will be true within the Jewish community as well. 

Since we are a fiercely independent congregation not tied to any movement, I thought it would be worthwhile to look at what the various denominations of Judaism are saying currently. And these positions may surprise you. Remember, two Jews and three opinions. 

Historically, Jews have, as you know, buried their dead. Based on the stories of the Cave of Machpeleh and this very vow at the end of Genesis between Jacob and Joseph. It is that simple, right? Maybe, maybe not. Have any of you been to Israel and visited a first century tomb? They are fascinating. But they are most certainly above ground. Is it really a burial? If you go to New Orleans, the Jewish graves are again above ground because of the high water table. This was particularly an issue during Hurricane Katrina where graves literally floated away. For some I know from New Orleans watching the news of Katrina this was very triggering and upsetting. 

The views on burial have changed over the years. In this country after the Holocaust, the feeling was that Jews should be buried, precisely because of the crematoria. However, survivors of the Shoah and their direct descendants have argued that if cremation was good enough for their relatives it should be good enough for them. 

The Reform movement has changed its position on cremation over the years. In the past, cremation was considered permissible. However, a teshuva, a responsa published by the Central Conference of American Rabbis in 2006 suggests that its members should discourage cremation based on its 1990 teshuva precisely citing the Holocaust, “and generally discourage it because of the tragic overtones.” It is interesting to note that the original question about cremation posed to the CCAR was 1892, the same year CKI was founded. https://www.ccarnet.org/ccar-responsa/nyp-no-5766-2/  

The Conservative Movement also has multiple responsum about cremation and states that cremation “should be discouraged, but it is not formally forbidden,” according to Rabbi Jeremy Kalmanofsky, spiritual leader of Congregation Ansche Chesed on the Upper West Side of New York City, in the article in the Forward. His writings on the subject were then adopted by the movement’s Committee on Jewish Law and Standards. 

Rabbi Elyse Wechterman, the head of the Reconstructionist Rabbinical Association said in the article that she will officiate at the funeral of a person being cremated,  “just because there wasn’t a traditional burial, does not mean the mourners can’t have traditional mourning.” As the article included this will include her own parents at some point. Her father sees cemeteries as a waste of land and doesn’t tend his own parents’ graves.  

One of the issues I have seen in addressing this conversation with families, is the transient nature of the Jewish community. Even in our own family, when Simon’s mother died, two siblings wanted her buried in Tucson, where she and they were living and two wanted her in Chicago at Mount Ma’ariv because she had always said she wanted to be next to her husband. That actually leaves two plots for me and Simon but who knows where our daughter will be or what would be meaningful to her.  

Locally, in the Jewish section at Bluff City Cemetery, it is permissible to bury cremains. The very first funeral I did in Elgin was for Pearl Brody who at the time of her death was living in Boston, and her son chose to return to Elgin for a funeral and burial of those cremains right here next to her husband. The practice predates me. Shalom Memorial Park allows for burial of cremains. Other Jewish cemeteries do as well. My understanding of state law in Illinois is that all funeral homes have to offer the option of cremation. David Jacobson of Chicago Jewish Funerals has spoken with the Chicago Board of Rabbis about this very topic. Much like Rabbi Zohn, he does not like the practice of cremation for Jews but he is obligated to offer it and he believes that CBR rabbis should discourage it. 

It is clear that Abraham purchased that cave and that Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca, Leah and now according to Joseph’s oath Jacob were buried there. But whether that is full burial or above ground burial or maybe something else is less clear. In modern day Israel you will see volunteers often from ZAKA or Hatzalah after terrorist attacks for instance scrapping up remains so that the whole body can receive a “proper Jewish burial.” Part of the explanation is that at the time of the Moshiach, our bodies will be resurrected and we will need all our parts. Yes, it is a Jewish belief! (That’s a different d’var Torah!)  

My own practice based on these and having read all of the codes on this topic, is that I will officiate at the burial of cremains because the important thing is the burial, that is what Jewish halacha seems to require from my reading of the classical Jewish codes. If you need to have a longer discussion with me about would be willing to discuss your own pre-planning. 

But before we get to those necessary discussions, a great way to get your house in order as we start this new year, is figuring out how we live with the life we have been given. 

Rabbi Singer said, “Life is an uncertain undertaking at best. We can live it carefully, avoiding problems and incidents, staying away from trouble. But it doesn’t matter; problems and troubles arise. What matters is how we deal with them, how we choose to live our lives. In other words, although life is an essentially complicated process, we have the capacity to make it a joyous one. 

One of the most amazing things about the human mind is that despite being aware of our mortality, we continue regardless. We know that we will die, but we hope that our stories will continue, just as Jacob’s and Sarah’s stories continue to move and inform us… We live full of dreams, hopes and expectations, some of which will never be fulfilled. We know that we will die but while still healthy we choose to not dwell on it.” 

One way is by writing that living will, that ethical will. It is important. It lays out your values for your children. Having an advanced directive, a durable power of attorney and more is also critical. It is something I go over with every wedding couple. It really matters. I have a friend who just went to a funeral in Michigan for a 30 year old. These are not just for aged.  

We’ve been talking about dreams and visions, Jacob’s, Joseph’s and our own for the last several weeks. The second thing that Jacob does that is surprising, is he blesses his children—really his sons—except Joseph. Instead of blessing Joseph he jumps to his grandsons, Ephraim and Maneseh. These blessings become an ethical will, if you will. We see Jacob’s blessings and values that he is passing down to his children and grandchildren. Why Ephraim and Manesh? As the commentators tell us, because this is the first pair of siblings that don’t fight with each other. They become the peacemakers. And to this day, we use their names when we bless sons on Friday evenings as part of welcoming Shabbat.  

Last week as part of Kiddush, we raised a glass and toasted the new year with champagne. Once I was called to a death scene. When I arrived I was handed a glass of champagne. It seemed odd but the longer I stood there, the more it made sense. This was for a man who led a full, complete life. Once the coroner had come and body was about to be removed, the new widow asked if I would say a few prayers. I was still holding my glass of champagne. I raised it and said something like, he had lead a full life and I think we would want those of us gathered to continue living our lives to the fullest. Then I toasted him and said, “L’chaim! May we all merit to live a full life.” 

That is my hope here today. L’chaim.  

Joseph finally reveals himself to his brothers. He’s alive. He’s alive! They are dumbfounded and perhaps feeling a little guilty that they had sold him into slavery and had deceived their father. Joseph reassures them: 

“Now, do not be distressed or reproach yourselves because you sold me hither; it was to save life that God sent me ahead of you…. God has sent me ahead of you to ensure your survival on earth, and to save your lives in an extraordinary deliverance.” (Gen. 45:5, 6, 7) 

Joseph reassures them. This is what was meant to be. This was G-d’s plan all along. In some traditions there is a theology of predestination. It is not usually part of Jewish theology. 

In some traditions of Christianity, notably the Calvinists, those would be the Puritans who came to this country for religious freedom, and their religious descendants, the Presbyterians and the Refromed Church, the doctrine of predestination teaches the G-d has eternally chosen those whom G-d intends to save. Come to the new class on comparative religion starting next week to begin to understand more. I’m told it is district from determinism and fatalism and pre-ordination. Perhaps, then what we really see here is a glimpse of pre-ordination.  

When preparing for this I spoke with Pastor Jeff Mikyska and Father Jack Lau, a Protestant and a Catholic. I think it is fair to say both rile against this formulation of theology, yet here it is seemingly right here in Genesis. So we need to wrestle with this text. That’s our legacy of Jacob’s name being changed to Yisrael, Israel, One who wrestles with G-d. 

What then happens to free will? I’ll leave that question here for now. 

There are echoes of this in Judaism. The Yiddish phrase, “Mann Tracht, Un Gott Lacht” is an old adage meaning, “Man Plans, and God Laughs.”  Despite our most careful planning, we are not in charge. We are not in control. Perhaps that is exactly what we have learned in the last few years. As Saul Levine daid in Psychology Today, “the Road of Life is unpredictable. We might have driving and destination strategies but scenic new vistas might beckon us or unforeseen roadblocks can deter us.” 

I’m not sure, however, we can lay that at G-d’s feet, so to speak. Despite Psalm 29 which praises the G-d of the thundering voice that smashes the cedars of Lebanon and splits rock with lightening, I am not sure that G-d causes all that. Or Deuteronomy 11, the second paragraph of the V’ahavta which teaches that if we obey the commandments G-d will favor us and our land but if we do not, then Adonai’s wrath will be directed against us.  

When we learn of someone’s death our response is “Baruch Dayan Ha’emet, Blessed is the Judge of Truth.” It is like saying “G-d’s will be done.”  

Kaufman Kohler in the Jewish Encyclopedia explains: 

“The belief that the destiny of man is determined beforehand by God. “Predestination” in this sense is not to be confounded with the term “preordination,” applied to the moral agents as predetermining either election to eternal life or reprobation. This latter view of predestination, held by Christian and Mohammedan theologians, is foreign to Judaism, which, professing the principle of Free Will, teaches that eternal life and reprobation are dependent solely upon man’s good or evil actions. It is in regard to the material life, as to whether man will experience good fortune or meet adversity, that Judaism recognizes a divine decision. According to Josephus, who desired to present the Jewish parties as so many philosophical schools, the Pharisees, Sadducees, and Essenes were divided on this question. The Pharisees held that not all things are divinely predestined, but that some are dependent on the will of man; the Sadducees denied any interference of God in human affairs; while the Essenes ascribed everything to divine predestination (“B. J.” ii. 8, § 14; “Ant.” xiii. 5, § 9).” 

That’s a lot to unpack. He continues: 

“In this controversy the real point at issue was the question of divine providence. As followers of Epicurus, the Sadducees, according to Josephus, held that all the phenomena of this world are due to chance and they denied the existence of a divine providence. The Essenes attributed everything to the will of God, and, exaggerating the conception of divine providence, denied to man any initiative. The Pharisees, fully aware that predestination precludes free-will, adopted a middle view, declaring that man is subject to predestination in his material life, but is completely free in his spiritual life. This view is expressed in the teaching of R. Akiba (Abot iii. 15): “All is foreseen, yet freedom is granted”; and in the similar saying of R. Ḥanina, “All is in the power of God, except the fear of God” (Ber. 33b; Niddah 16b). Another saying of Ḥanina’s is, “A man does not hurt his finger in this world unless it has been decreed above” (Ḥul. 7b). Similarly it is said, “The plague may rage for seven years, and yet no man will die before the appointed hour” (Sanh. 29a; Yeb. 114b).” 

That last quote seems especially apt for our time. “The plague may rage for seven years, and yet no man will die before the appointed hour.” Really? I am not sure that we would all agree and yet I remain grateful for those on the front lines, the doctors, the nurses, the first responders, the grocery store worked and the research scientists that have brought us vaccines that have dramatically cut the hospitalization and death rates. COVID is still hear but milder and less of a deadly threat.  

In the Talmud, we learn this story as the most striking example of predestinarian belief. “Eleazar ben Pedat. This amora, being in straitened circumstances, asked God how long he would suffer from his poverty. The answer, received in a dream, was, “My son, wouldst thou have Me overthrow the world?” (Ta’an. 25a); the meaning being that Eleazar’s poverty could not be helped, he having been predestined to be poor. 

I hear this story repeated in Fiddler on the Roof when Tevye, pleading with G-d, saying, “It’s no shame to be poor but it is no great honor either.” 

These are some of the echoes we hear about predestination and pre-ordination. 

And yet, I have a shirt that says, “I make my own magic.” And it’s true, to some extent. It is also like the well worn story of the man during a hurricane looking for help from G-d to rescue him. He wants to know where G-d is. G-d’s response was “I sent you a row boat, a motor boat and a helicopter with a rope. What more did you expect?” 

Joseph reassured his brothers that it would all be OK, that it was all part of G-d’s plan. And while it can be comforting after the face to think that G-d is in charge, and whatever has happened is all for the good and pre-ordained, it may not be comforting in the moment. 

Imagine telling someone who just lost their child that it is all part of G-d’s plan or that G-d needed another angel or that G-d will never give you more than you can bear. You will not hear those platitudes from me.  

Can we take a negative experience and turn it into a positive? Sure. But it takes work. Hard work. 

People ask me whether G-d caused my cancer. They wonder whether it is part of some divine plan. I don’t think so. But I do think that G-d has enabled very smart people to find it early, to provide skilled and compassionate care, to empower people—many of you—to be caring individuals willing to help, to say a mi sheberach when needed or provide space for quiet conversations and reflection. You are the reflection of G-d’s divine presence. 

As we enter 2023, many people set resolutions. I’m not so much a resolutions chick, but I do set goals for the year and things I want to achieve. My list always begins with see the sunrise on the first day. There is something about a new year, the secular new year or Rosh Hashanah that acts like a reset button. It is a blank slate, a new notebook, waiting for that magic to happen. 

What then does G-d require of us as we enter 2023. Micah answers that question: “to do justly, to love mercy and to walk humbly with G-d.” Others translate that as modestly.  

Can we by living that way make our own magic as the shirt suggests? I believe the answer is yes. So my goals for 2023 revolve around being more like G-d:  

• Doing justly: doing more with welcoming the stranger and working on immigration reform, feeding the hungry and the homeless right here in Elgin, working on environmental issues.  
• Loving mercy and compassion: being more fully present to all of you—and to my family that often gets short shrift in my often too busy schedule. Being compassionate with myself and not talking down to me, having too high expectations. Better self-care (whatever that means) Above all being kind. 
• Walking humbly with G-d: I will be taking a four week course with Institute of Jewish Spirituality on “Receiving and Extending Love.”  

I have other goals too. Many revolve around travel or my running or learning Spanish to help in my role as a police chaplain. And I want to learn to dance better. And paint better.  

If I can do those things, then I will make my own magic—in the presence and with the help of G-d.  

My hope, my prayer for each of you this Erev New Year’s is that you find meaning, fulfillment, joy and laughter in 2023, and that you find a way, together with G-d to make a difference, to be kind and compassionate and that together we make the world a better place.  

Baby, it’s cold outside. This week Shabbat was entirely on Zoom because of weather issues. (Windchills around 30 below). Friday night we were treated to some jazz piano of Chanukah favorites and a guided mediation on a candle developed by my professor Rabbi Goldie Millgram. I always find this mediation especially soothing. If you want to try it on your own, I have included it here: http://www.reclaimingjudaism.org/teachings/guided-meditation-flame

Wherever you are, please stay safe in these brutally cold days, and may your light shine brightly.

Here are Shabbat morning’s reflections:

Recently we have talked about dreams, and visions. Jacob’s sulam, that ladder or stairway with the angels that go up and down. Jacob wrestling with the angel. Joseph and the dreams about his brothers and parents. Joseph interpreting the dreams in jail. Joseph interpreting Pharoah’s dreams and rising to prominence as Pharaoh’s vizier, his right hand man, his number two guy Last week we looked at how to interpret our own dreams.  

This week’s haftarah also has a dream, a vision if you will, of what turns out to be the menorah.  

“He said to me, “What do you see?” And I answered, “I see a lampstand all of gold, with a bowl above it. The lamps on it are seven in number, and the lamps above it have seven pipes; and by it are two olive trees, one on the right of the bowl and one on its left.” (Zechariah 4:2) 

He then turned back to the angel and asked him what his dream meant. The angel interpreted the dream: 

“Then he explained to me as follows:. “This is the word of the LORD to Zerubbabel:. ‘Not by might, nor by power, but by My spirit.’ said the LORD of Hosts.” 

Debbie Friedman set it to music: 

Not by Might – Debbie Friedman (1990) 

While the explanation of the vision goes on in Zechariah, thus explaning the symbolism of each element of the menorah dream, the haftarah itself ends in a different place. “Whoever you are, O great mountain in the path of Zerubbabel, turn into level ground! For he shall produce that excellent stone; it shall be greeted with shouts of ‘Beautiful! Beautiful!’” 

That word translated as Beautiful, Beautiful is חֵ֥ן  Hain in Hebrew.  

That is a very interesting word and its repetitive use here. We know that if something is repeated, it comes to teach us something. There are no extra words in the Bible, we are taught. 

My first question then, is what do we mean by beauty? Each of you has a menorah—a chanukiah—perhaps more than one and I am willing to guess that each one is different.  Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. There is a tradition of hiddur hamitzvah, beautification of the mitzvah. That is part of why there are so many styles of menorot. The vision as described here in the text doesn’t really help me understand what the original menorah looked like. 

But the word hain often means something other than beauty. It can also mean favor or grace. You may know this word from the 13 attributes of the Divine, Chanun v’rachum. In that form it is often seen as solely the providence of G-d. Or you may know it from the phrase, “Matzah hain b’enecha, to find favor in your eyes,” when someone pleads with another, even in this chapter.  

It comes from the verb chanan. Meaning yearn towards, long for, be merciful, compassionate, favourable, inclined towards; It can also mean beautiful—as in eshet hain, a woman of beauty, of grace, of charm. We see this phrase towards the end of Eishet Chayyil, a Woman of Valor, that also talks of her gracious hain speech. That is still one I am working on.  

What then do we make of the use here? That this vision—of the menorah, of a world where we live not by might and not by power but by G-d’s spirit is beautiful. That it is how we guard our speech and be kind, gracious, compassionate.  That it is how we find favor in G-d’s eyes. 

There is one more place that hain shows up and it seems so appropriate for this Shabbat Chanukah. And that is in the Birkat Hocohanim, the priestly benediction. It appears in Numbers, in the parsha just before what we read earlier today. 

Yevarechecha v’yishmarecha, May Adonai bless you and keep you, guard and protect you. 

Ya’er Adoani panav elecha v’chunecha. May Adonai be gracious to you and grant you favor. 

Yisa Adonai panav elecha v’y’sem lecha shalom. May Adoani’s face turn toward you and grant you peace. 

That second line of the three fold blessing is closer to “May G-d’s light shine upon you and be gracious to you.” There is something really beautiful in the idea of G-d’s light shining upon us at Chanukah, this season of light. Maybe that is where the real beauty is, G-d’s light becoming our light so that we can shine in the darkness.  

For me then, this vision is one of beauty and hope. May we each be blessed with light and then may we continue to find beauty and favor as we share our light with others. Light one candle.  Not by might. Not by power. But by spirit alone shall we all live in peace. Amen. 

In planning our Chanukah party, as we often do, we reached out to my colleague, Rabbi Mendal Shem Tov, the Chabad rabbi. The last big party before the pandemic, Rabbi Shem Tov, Rabbi Steve Peskind and Rabbi Ed Friedman were all here. Some times it is easy to collaborate, and sometimes it is more difficult. 2019 had seen an uptick in anti-semitism and we both felt that it was important to be visible together. Sometime after that party, a rabbi was stabbed in his home in New York at his Chanukah party. Then the world shut down for COVID. 

 This year it seemed even more important that ever to come together. He said he would come to our house and that I should plan to speak at the Centre of Elgin Chanukah celebration. These events I find difficult. They are complicated. But if the Chabad rabbi is asking me to speak, I will speak. 

That doesn’t mean I won’t be nervous. It is important to set the right tone. 

I stood at the entrance with the Mayor of Elgin, the police chief and two of the command staff. They got that I was nervous but I don’t think they understand the whys.  

Eventually, we were ushered outside. The police chief spoke first, gracious as usual. She talked about how the Jewish community is protected by the EPD. How delighted she is to be invited for 5 years. She had to leave for a meeting. Then the mayor. He spoke about the diversity of Elgin and why that is important to him and to Elgin and echoed what the police chief said. Rabbi Shem Tov spoke about how the flames of Chanukah are important, they are very very neshoma, our soul. How in this hekchal year it is important to gather. While he was speaking, my phone rang. It was EPD. I actually thought it might be a joke. It was not. Unfortunately, it was all too real.  There was a death and the officers had called for a chaplain. The command staff told me I should speak and then leave.  

I spoke. Badly. I announced that unfortunately I would have to leave to attend to a death. But I thought it was important to say here—after agonizing over it for several days—what I would say. 

Here it is: 

It is an honor to be here tonight to represent Congregation Kneseth Israel. CKI is celebrating 130 years in Elgin. Elgin has been a place of safety for the Jewish community. Our coming together tonight, to light the menorah, the chanukiah, is to share its light. Light is the story of Chanukah. Each night we add to the light, just like the rabbis of the Talmud did 2000 years ago. They argued, debated if you will, whether we should start with 8 lights and decrease them each night or start with one and add light each night. The decision went to add light each night. At this darkest time of the year, on this very dark, cold night, we add another light and increase our joy.  

Martin Luther King said, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.” Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, of blessed memory said something similar, “There always were two ways to live in a world that is often dark and full of tears. We can curse the darkness, or we can light a light, and as the Chassidim say, a little light drives out much darkness. May we all help light up the world.” 

That is the challenge of Chanukah. How can we each take this light and light up the world, as individuals and as communities. Events like this celebration tonight help increase our joy and increase the light in this world. May it be so! Thank you to Rabbi Shemtov for including me and members of CKI and the wider Elgin community. 

What if the phone rings and it is the Black Baptist pastor asking if the synagogue is safe? If we, the Jewish community is OK? What if the president of the synagogue helps the neighboring black church write a Homeland Security grant and both the church and the synagogue gets them? What if almost every conversation with anybody eventually turns to talk of anti-semitism? 

It is clear that anti-semitism and hate crimes are on the rise. Sadly, in some places tensions have risen between the black communities and the Jewish communities as well. How do you combat a casual comment that people, Jews in particular are picking on Kanye West? What do you do when some African Americans think that Ye was right? What is the big deal with Nick Fuertes and Ye having dinner with Trump? 

What if Elgin has a better way? 

Last night, my husband and I hosted a Chanukah party at our home for leaders in town. Jewish leaders, Black leaders, City leaders. An open house. We had clergy, lay leaders, police officers, elected officials. Mostly we stood around the dining room table, eating latkes with apple sauce or sour cream and mac and cheese. One person having latkes for the first time said, “Oh, so they are like hash browns with apple pie filling.” Right! 

The word Chanukah means dedication. This party was set up to make a visual statement that Elgin is “No place for hate.” We were rededicating ourselves to that vision. 

The conversations were important. Discussions of hunger and homelessness. A newer book, KosherSoul. The political landscape. Policing and racism and the work of the Taskforce on Policing that recently completed their work. The idea that we have deep connections and deep relationships already.  

Many of the people there have been working for years on policing and racism. Some of those conversations through the years have been hard. Some have been poignant. And some have been funny. One year we had a mac and cheese cook off. I lost. Wacky Mac, a prepackaged Kosher mac and cheese like Kraft, just doesn’t cut it. Reggie Kees won.  

Last night I was told to leave mac and cheese to the blacks. Really. One of our Jewish friends walked in and asked where I had found all these beautiful black people. The blacks were not offended, but I was. 

My friend, Tiffany, who is on the Gail Borden Public Library board, kept me relaxed and reminded me that it is all OK. She told me that African Americans are not so easily offended. We danced to “We are family.” I said I’ve never had sisters and always wanted them. She said, “Well, you’ve got them now.” She brought me two mugs that I love. One says Nosh. I had to teach her that word. She taught me years ago now the term boujee. (a hip-hop slang for something “luxurious in lifestyle yet humble in character,” 

 There was a long conversations about favorite rock albums. Lots of Led Zeplin and the Beetles. People who said they were leaving and then stayed and stayed and stayed. It was casual. It was magical. 

We lit the candles and took one, just one photo of the candles and the very diverse group gathered. I talked very briefly about King and Heschel misquoting them both I’m sure. Here are the real quotes. 

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.” Martin Luther King, jr. 

Heschel, who marched with King said that his feet were praying. Last night, we prayed with all our being, just by showing up, just by walking up those three stairs into a house that might be unfamiliar, eating maybe your first latke. 

“There always were two ways to live in a world that is often dark and full of tears. We can curse the darkness or we can light a light, and as the Chassidim say, a little light drives out much darkness. May we all help light up the world.”—Rabbi Jonathan Sacks z”l 

Then we took one group photo. One. Then more people came.  

Later in the evening, I had to tell the story about Susannah Heschel and the orange on the seder plate. Both versions. We talked about Richard Rohr’s Divine Dance and Toba Spitzer’s God is Here. People took turns spinning a dreidle, talking about miracles, working a puzzle. 

As it was reported to me, the mayor of New York at a recent summit about anti-semitism told the clergy gathered to invite other clergy out to dinner. Just groups of 10. To McDonalds, or a restaurant or to a home. Our invitations for this event had gone out prior to the mayor’s summit. We were on to something.  

I know that this is a very busy time of the year. I know that people made time to come last night. I am deeply touched.   

How to combat anti-semitism. Be visible. Loud and proud as the saying goes. Be authentic. Be open. Build lasting deep relationships. Friendships. Share food. Break bread. Maybe we need to rewrite the golden rule: Show up for others as you would have them show up for you! Love your neighbor as yourself. Period.  

Here is what I know. Some day there could be an anti-semetic event in Elgin. There could be a hate crime. It is sadly the world we are living in. There is no doubt that there would be an immediate, serious appropriate response.  

Last night was “just a Chanukah party” and so much more. Maybe, just maybe, because of parties like last night, our corner of the world is just a little safer.  No big statements decrying racism or anti-semitism. Just good food, good conversation and deep, deep appreciation for one another. And lots of hugs. Happy Chanukah. Merry Christmas. Merry Everything.

Thank you, Elgin.  

After Torah Study this week where we looked at Chapter 37 of the Book of Genesis, I watched the news. Chapter 37 starts with Jacob vayeshev, he sat down, he dwelled, he settled. After all that he had been through—tricking his brother out of his birthright, running away from home, finding Rachel at the well, working for seven years for Rachel, being tricked himself and working another seven years, he is finally his own man. Four wives, twelve children, and a large flock, he headed home. He settled down. Perhaps he retired.  

And he loved Jospeh, his favored son. And he gives him a gift, a katonet pasim, as our translation calls it, an ornamented tunic. The meaning of the Hebrew is uncertain and earlier this year I got a phone call from a Lutheran pastor who is helping the director of an upcoming production of Joseph and His Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. Could it be that the translation is long in the sleaves or just long coat. After some study of classic texts we concluded it could be, but that it is ambiguous, so we are back to meaning of Hebrew uncertain.  

In any case, this was a special gift. And it enraged the brothers. They were jealous. And Joseph’s dreams didn’t help any. They wanted to kill their brother. Only Reuven objects to the plan and convince them to throw him into a pit. After he is sold into some form of slavery, the brothers take that coat, smear it with blood and convince Jacob that his beloved son is dead. Jacob goes into deep mourning. This is a horrible story on so many levels. The text demands of us, we have to do better.  

Back to the news. There was a very sad story on Thursday night. Earlier in the week two brothers were murdered in their own alley right behind their house. Their mother had told them not to go out. They went any way. The lead story on NBC Chicago Thursday night was that it was a crime of jealousy. Apparently, whoever killed these two young men wanted the coat that one of them was wearing. They stole the coat and left the brothers to die. This is a horrible story on so many levels. We have to do better.  

This week we marked the sad anniversary of the massacre at Sandy Hook in Newtown, CT. Now Newtown is about half way between Boston and New York and it was common for me to stop there on my way home from rabbinical school. My college roommate lives there. We would often enjoy a sushi meal together with her young son before I would journey on to Boston. That son was a kindergartner when Sandy Hook happened. He was in a different building, but my college roommate went through the predictable panic until she could hold her son. I was newly in Elgin. We kept our phone line open all afternoon as the horror became clearer. It was the first night of Chanukah. I had taught the kids in Torah School, the Debbie Friedman song, Not by might, based on the haftarah for Shabbat Chanukah. We made a video, sent it to my roommate and she shared it with her friends and other moms. 

Since Sandy Hook, there continues to be too much gun violence. This year according to Forbes citing Gun Violence Archive there have been 611 mass shooting through Nov.25, 2022. This statistic does not include the two brothers in their alley killed over a coat. But it does include stories that continue to be in the headlines. Uvalde. Highland Park Fourth of July Parade. This, too, is a horrible story. We have to do better.  

Perhaps you will not agree with me, but when I called our state representative’s office about two other issues, the IL Safety and Security Grant, a funding bill she helped write and her recording of her talk on stumbling stones in Munich, we would up talking about gun violence. She is one of the co-sponsors of a bill to ban assault rifles in Illinois. If that bill passes, and I pray that it does, it will not end all gun violence. If it is in your nature, I urge you to check out organizations like the Sandy Hook Promise, Moms Demand Action, Everytown and Brady United. None of them are partisan. If you are so willing, I urge you to reach out to your elected officials, of whichever party and make your views known. We have to do better. Jealousy over a coat—Joseph’s or a teenager in Illinois in 2022 is not a reason to resort to violence. Period.  

In the words of the Chanuakh haftarah, which always being me hope: 

Not by might and not by power
But by spirit alone
Shall we all live in peace. 

May we rededicate ourselves to this vision. 

Cain and Abel  

Isaac and Ishmael 

Jacob and Esau and later still 

Joseph and his brothers 

Throughout the book of Genesis we have pairs of siblings that fall out of favor with each other. Sibling rivalry is a real thing. We are told in today’s story that Jacob and Esau reconciled—but then they went their own ways.  

What does it mean to reconcile? Jacob sent Esau gifts ahead of his arrival. Our Torah Study group talked about whether they were gifts to propriate himself as our translation said or to appease Esau or perhaps they were bribes. Last night we talked a little about gits and particularly at this gift giving season, even in the Jewish community, that is an important conversation. How we give gifts and why is important. (See below) 

This week I had the opportunity to go to someone’s house for coffee and an important conversation about hunger and homelessness in the City of Elgin and long term strategic planning hopefully leading to systemic change. Halfway out the door I texted her and said I could stop and pick up something at Arabica. She had already picked up some baked goods at Herb’s so I did not. But I could hear my mother saying never go empty handed. How many of you were taught that, never go empty handed. When I was In Guatemala as an AJWS fellow I learned something new to me about gift giving. It can change the balance of power, and not necessarily in a good way. We were asked not to bring gifts to the agencies we were visiting. Why? Because then they might feel a need to reciprocate, and they may not be in a financial position to do so, or they may feel embarrassed—or it would come out of the monies that AJWS had granted them thus defeating the purpose of the grant. I thought about that, and our parsha as I headed over to Joann’s for a lovely morning of coffee, donuts, planning and conversation. 

Gifts can be used to show off—look how great, wealthy, successful I am. Or they can be used as a symbol of love—we will see that in tomorrow’s wedding in an exchange of rings, a token, a symbol of Zack and Lila’s love for one another, or they can be used as one member of our Torah study group said as a bribe. If you accept this gift, then you won’t be mad at me anymore, you won’t want to kill me, you won’t…. 

This week the School of the Art Institute of Chicago took back a gift that they had given to Kanye West. His honorary doctorate from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago has been rescinded, and the school’s president condemned the artist’s recent antisemitic and racist statements. Honorary degrees are a gift, they are something that don’t have to happen and are used to recognize a significant body of work.  

‘“Ye’s actions do not align with SAIC’s mission and values, and we’ve rescinded his honorary degree,” President Elissa Tenny said in a statement to BuzzFeed News on Thursday. Tenny described the recent comments from the rapper, who recently changed his name to Ye, as “anti-Black, antisemitic, racist, and dangerous, particularly those directed at Black and Jewish communities.”’ 

This is not the first time this kind of thing has happened. I remember the long discussion at the Jewish Theological Seminary about its library when it was named for Ivan Boesky who was convicted of insider trading and junk bonds. Ultimately in 1987, after Ivan Boesky was convicted JTS took his name off of the library he had built for them. 

Sometimes I am asked an age-old question. Is it good for the Jews or bad for the Jews? One example was with Weinstein who was back in the news this week. While the trial is still going on I will comment only this way. It appears that Weinstein is bad for women, bad for humanity and therefore bad for the Jews.  

I wrestled with what to talk about this morning. Later in this portion but not in the section we just read we have the rape of Dinah. As a community that just hosted Anita Diamant whose best seller, The Red Tent deals with this brief story, I thought maybe we should look at Dinah. Having a background in rape and domestic violence counseling and a book on that topic, you might have thought that I might have talked about Dinah this morning. I will commend to you Rabbi Paul Kipnes about Jacob’s silence at Dinah’s rape and Joseph’s encounters with Potiphar’s wife. https://reformjudaism.org/learning/torah-study/torah-commentary/jacob-awakens-sexual-assaults-suffered-his-children?fbclid=IwAR35LYkvqNLax2Xy3BEmvpPbRTDVOlYc7F_nYyC10CbtmqGkhjThBbn1XrM   

Ultimately this morning, I want to talk about reconciliation. There are several people in this congregation who have struggled with children who are estranged or who have rough relationships with parents, siblings, friends. People who have wanted to reconcile but may not even know what caused the split.  

We talk about this often, especially before Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. We are told that for sins against G-d Yom Kippur atones but for sins against our fellow, we must make peace with them first. This is the basis of teshuvah, return, repentance.  

Jacob is returning. Physically, at least, to Canaan. Mentally, spiritual, he is afraid. He works to protect his family and he is alone, where he wrestles with a man? An angel? Himself? G-d? His name is changed from Jacob, the heel to Yisrael, Israel, One who wrestles with G-d. And he limps away to his encounter with Esau. Yet I am not sure he really reconciles with Esau. He doesn’t seem to follow the steps of teshuvah of repentance that Maimonides outlines centuries later.  

1. Regret. As Rabbi Paul Kipnes points out. “No wrongdoing can be transformed until we first recognize the error of our ways.” This is a highly personal, private step. We must feel remorse for what we have done. Does Jacob regret stealing the birthright? There is no evidence of that in the text.  

1. Renounce. Admit you made a mistake. Acknowledge to yourself that your actions were wrong. Don’t make up excuses or rationalizations. Promise you are not going to do this again.  

1. Confess: Say you are sorry out loud to someone else. Say it directly to the victim. The act of saying it out loud makes it more concrete. Judaism teaches that repentance and reconciliation only happens with the person directly affected. The book The Sunflower by Simon Wiesenthal addresses this question directly about an SS guard who wants Simon to grant forgiveness to him on his death bed after horrendous crimes against a Jewish community. Simon really wrestles with whether he can do that since the victims are dead. Read the book. 

1. Reconcile: Rabbi Paul Kipnes explains: “These first three steps address the sinner’s needs. Step four, reconcile, focuses on the one wronged. However commendable regret or confession may be, these alone do not heal someone who has been hurt or deceived. If teshuva is to be more than a simple way for the sinner to feel good again – if it is to become a tool for repairing souls, both the sinner’s and the victim’s – then it must transcend the realm of the emotion and conversation, and enter the tangible world of action. To reconcile with the person wronged begins with sincere apology. It continues with a long term investment of our time and energy, as long as necessary, until the sinner and the person wronged are able to work through this problem. We may need to spend significant time talking. We may need to give the other person time alone and space. Be patient. You see, we quickly hurt others but it takes time to heal.” 

1. Make amends: Part of teshuva is making amends. This may be accomplished with tzedakah, with volunteering, with monetary recompense. It may mean providing for counseling or therapy for the victim. As Paul Kipnes adds, “While a donation of money cannot buy forgiveness, it can help others who were similarly hurt if the tzedakah is given to appropriate organizations.” The question then becomes what were the gifts that Jacob gave to Esau. A way to affect reconciliation? A bribe? An attempt to buy forgiveness? Did he skip right to this step? 

1. Resolve: This is the step that for some is hardest. If confronted with the same situation, we resolve to not do it again.  

If you want to read Rabbi Kipnes’s full understanding of the Maimonides, it is here: https://www.paulkipnes.com/6-steps-of-teshuvah/ 

Jacob doesn’t seem to do each of these steps. He doesn’t seem to regret stealing the birthright or renounce his actions. How might this whole thing change if he had given back the birthright or split it with Esau in some sort of meaningful way? He didn’t apology or confess his actions. He didn’t make amends and he didn’t promise to never do it again. Similarly, Esau didn’t acknowledge his threat that he was going to kill Jacob, or promise to never do it again. Instead, after all of Jacob’s gifts raising the question of whether you can really buy reconciliation—that’s not in Maimonides’ steps by the way, and after a kiss that Rashi said was insincere, the brothers agree to just go their separate ways.  

What then do we do? We work these steps carefully. Step by step by step. And we realize that sometimes they still may not work. The person needs to feel safe and safety is hard to guarantee. Sometimes the person we are trying to reconcile with may be so wounded that they are not interested. Sometimes the person we are trying to reconcile with may have deeply seated underlying mental health issues. Sometimes, like Jacob and Esau, it may make more sense to just agree to go our separate ways.  

Kabbalat Shabbat: 

This is a gift. A small token of friendship. A Chanukah tzotchke. Purchased at Target by my phlebotomist. Not because she had to. Not out of some sense of obligation. Because she saw it and wanted to do something nice.  

There has been a lot written about anti-semitism these days. It is clear that hate crimes are on the rise, sadly. Charlie Neuman sent a video this week from Beit Tefilah that echoes what many of us learned. Based on last week’s Torah portion and the seeming almost reconciliation of Jacob and Esau, the rabbi was taught that they all hate us. All the non-Jews. He was taught in his very Jewish neighborhood to cross the street instead of walking by the one church in the neighborhood. Many of us were taught similar things. He says it is not true. They don’t all hate us and that is important to remember. That we need to bless the non-Jews that do like us. He based it on the text that we are all created b’tzelm elohim, in the image of G-d. I would echo his sentiments and add to them. We are taught to love our neighbors as ourselves, which he says applies to loving our Jewish neighbors. The text is not clear. Rayecha can be translated as neighbor, fellow or kin. But later on we are also told we should love the stranger in our gates. So really it is still all about unconditional love of our fellow, Jew or not.  

https://bethtfiloh.myschoolapp.com/app/detail/video/11515102  

Recently there was a meme that many of my colleagues posted that said, “If you are wondering what to get me for Hanukkah, I’m really into, unequivocal condemnations of anti-semitism.” That would be lovely—and just such an article appeared as an op-ed from a Catholic priest in the Daily Herald. https://www.dailyherald.com/discuss/20221207/a-christian-call-to-stand-up-against-growing-antisemitism?cid=search  And earlier today, Judi Tepe had a  lovely response printed.  https://www.dailyherald.com/discuss/20221212/letter-expressions-of-support-are-appreciated 

It’s a start. But also a start—the Interfaith Thanksgiving Service. The deep connections and relationships we have built over time with our neighboring religious leaders. The phone calls I have received asking what they can do to help, and this little gift. Antisemitism will not go away overnight. It takes us being vigilant. It takes us being visible. It takes us demonstrating loving our neighbors. Over and over again. It takes us standing up for the vulnerable, Jewish or not. And it takes just being a friend.