There are always more questions that a rabbi gets at this period. The formal answer that one gives is called a teshuva, a response.

Some of the questions are logistical. Do we need tickets? Membership? Prayerbooks? What time is Kol Nidre? Why does it have to start so early? What time is break-the-fast? Why is it so late? Where are the bathrooms?

Perhaps you have questions, too.

One question asked was about this very parsha. How could Moses write down the whole Torah, given by G-d and then have the Torah still go on for another chapter and even describe Moses death. Since he believes that the Bible is divine, how is this possible; who wrote the Bible? That was a very big question and one that deserves its own discussion, adult class, or sermon. I did suggest reading Richard Elliott Friedman’s excellent book, Who Wrote the Bible.

The next question was what time is Kol Nidre. 5:30. Yes, that early.

This is the Shabbat for questions and answers. This is the Shabbat for return.

Some of the questions deserve full answers.

A student in the Torah School asked, “If we eat something that isn’t kosher, how do we return to being kosher?” It is a really good question. Is stumped several rabbis. One rabbi decided to do all of his high holy day sermons around this question.

So how would you answer our student?

Answers included, stopping what he is doing, not doing it again, saying you are sorry. As I pointed out the very steps of teshuvah that we will talk about shortly.

It is a really interesting question. And surprisingly the rabbis don’t talk about it much. Oh sure, there are answers about how to rekasher counters or plates or knives. There are answers about what happens if a drop of milk falls into a meat soup. But what if we take something into our bodies that isn’t kosher. How do we make ourselves kosher again if we have eaten something traif?

Here is our linguistic lesson for the day. Kosher really means fit or proper. It is something we are allowed to eat. But it can also apply to the Torah scroll we read from. It is kosher, fit for reading or pasul, unfit. Traif means something that is torn, or unfit. So something that isn’t kosher is torn, separated. It is separated in some way from being holy.

I think therefore, in puzzling it out with that other rabbi.

If you eat something that isn’t kosher, you can brush your teeth and wait some number of hours…and you are kosher again. That’s the simple answer. If we apply the idea that like that pot of soup, what he consumed is less that 1/60^th, a shishim of his body weight, then the kid wasn’t “not kosher” at all.

But maybe the question is a bigger question. How do we return? How do we return to being holy, set apart? How do we be good? Kedusha is being set apart. Keeping kosher, even metaphorically, is one of the things that set apart Jews from the rest of society. Just try to find a kosher restaurant here in Elgin. (Although Spirals, the frozen yogurt shop comes close—all of their product is hechshered).

We are to be a kingdom of priests and a holy nation. We are to lead by example, as a light to the nations. You’ll hear more about that on Yom Kippur. So how do we lead by example by what we eat? Here at CKI, I have set the policy that we use fair trade, organic kosher coffee. We are trying to use less bottled water and single use plastics. We are using more real table clothes and real dishes.

How else can we return to a holy state with our eating? I am trying to eat less processed foods, more foods that are sourced locally, less meat and more veggies. Our bodies are our temple as Rabbi Sami Barth said in talking about Psalm 30, a psalm for the dedication of the Temple. If our body is our temple and we are supposed to care for it and dedicate ourselves to it, how do we treat it?

All this from this student’s question about returning our bodies to a kosher state after eating something not kosher.

But perhaps the question is really about how do we make our actions kosher, fit or proper again. How do we return to a state of kedusha, holiness? Then I would look at Yom Kippur’s Torah reading and haftarah readings. Are we living out the words of the holiness code. Is this the fast G-d desires or are we feeding the hungry, housing the homeless? Clothing the naked? As Isaiah demands. Not holding a grudge? Honoring our parents? Not putting a stumbling block before the blind or curing the deaf? Paying our workers on a timely basis? Leaving the corners of the field? Feeding the widow, the orphan, the stranger? In short are we loving our neighbors as ourselves?

The other question that may apply is how do I reconcile if the other person isn’t open to it. This came as a Facebook text message: I don’t see myself apologizing to him or asking forgiveness any time soon. I recognize I have some responsibility for us growing apart, but he’s been lying and cheating, and I’m feeling wronged. So I’m looking for prayers and strength to get through this.

Perhaps you are wondering this too. If you have asked for forgiveness and the person has said no, what next? If you have been wronged and the person hasn’t tried to make it right, what next? Sometimes it is impossible to reconcile.

From my next book, which is coming out later this month:

“Repentance is not forgiveness. That may be the other side of a coin and also one of the major themes of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Well ahead of Alcoholics Anonymous, Maimonides a leading Jewish commentator, scholar and physician of the 12th century, outlined 12 steps to repentance in his code, the Mishneh Torah. The basic four are:

1. Leaving the Sin
2. Regret
3. Confession Before G-d
4. Acceptance for the Future

Those may work for sins against G-d. As the Talmud tells us in Yoma 87b, “For sins against G-d, Yom Kippur atones. But for sins against another person, Yom Kippur does not atone until we appease our fellow.”

That means that we need to not only regret our mistakes but actually ask for forgiveness, promise to never do it again, make restitution and if confronted with the same scenario not repeat the mistake.

Teshuvah which often gets translated as repentance, is more like turning back around, turning towards G-d. G-d will take us back in love if we return.

Hauntingly, haltingly, we beg God during the Torah service “Hashiveinu Adonai, elohecha v’nashuva. Chadesh, chadesh yameinu, chadesh yameinu kekedem. Return to us Adonai, and we shall return. Renew our days as of days of old.” (Lamentations 5:21)

Are you capable of forgiving and loving the people around you, even if they have hurt you and let you down by not being perfect? Can you forgive them and love them, because there aren’t any perfect people around, and because the penalty for not being able to love imperfect people is condemning oneself to loneliness?
Are you capable of forgiving and loving God even when you have found out that He is not prefect, even when He has let you down and disappointed you by permitting bad luck and sickness and cruelty in His world, and permitting some of those things to happen to you? Can you learn to love and forgive Him despite His limitations, as Job does, and as you once learned to forgive and love your parents even though they were not as wise, as strong, or as perfect as you needed them to be?
And if you can do these things, will you be able to recognize that the ability to forgive and the ability to love are the weapons God has given us to enable us to live fully, bravely and meaningfully in this less-than-perfect world?”

Rabbi Harold Kushner in When Bad Things Happen to Good People

You don’t have to forgive as a gift to the perpetrators. You may choose to forgive as a gift to yourself. When you are ready. On your own timetable. And maybe not even once and done. Maybe more like the layers of an onion at different stages in different ways or maybe not at all.

In thinking about deeply about this topic over many years, I have come to the conclusion that until a person feels safe, truly really safe, forgiveness may not be possible.”

Let me be clear here. If you are being abused, I am not saying you should reconcile or you should forgive. Forgiveness is not forgetting and forgiveness can only come once someone is safe.

Yesterday I “prayed” at the Community Crisis Center’s annual Partner in Peace breakfast. October is National Domestic Violence Awareness months. This simple breakfast is one of my favorite events of the year. This year in particular they were honoring four leaders in loving our neighbors, in looking out for the widow, the orphan, the stranger, the marginalized. Four people all of whom retired on June 30, 2019. Gretchen Vapner the founding executive director of the Crisis Center, Ed Hunter, who worked for St. Joe’s for 31 years, Karen Beyer, the executive director of the Ecker Center and the Rev. Karen Schlack, retiring minister at First Presbyterian in Elgin and the wife of our own Daniel Schlack. There was no were else I would have been on Friday morning, except honoring these four. My prayer follows this sermon.

And then finally, one of my colleagues, Rabbi Irwin Huberman, was asked at Tashlich last year, by a kid named Micah, about a verse from Micah, from today’s haftarah portion and the basis for the ceremony called Tashlich, You will cast (Tashlich) all your sins into the depths of the sea.” (7:19)

This modern day Micah wants to know: “Why all this emphasis on sin.”

This, too, is a good question. Most of us haven’t done even any of the alphabetical list of sins, the Ashamnu, that we will recite in the plural multiple times on Tuesday and Wednesday. We don’t want fire and brimstone. We don’t want to be made to feel bad. So what do we do with it?

Rabbi Huberman answers that Archie Gottesman, the co-founder of an organization called JewBelong, dedicated to bringing spirituality and meaning back to Judaism:

“Everyone craves meaning, and if Jews are not going to get it from Jewish practice, then they are going to find it, with Yoga or somewhere else.

Rabbi Huberman’s cousin, Rabbi Yisroel Roll, has an important take on this. As a former pulpit rabbi and a therapist, he encourages us, as the long list of ancient sins is recited in synagogue, to tap our hearts with our fists and recite the words, “I can do better.”

“I can do better, by using words to build rather than destroy.”
“I can do better, by gossiping less.”
“I can do better by softening my heart.”
“I can do better by being less stubborn.”
“I can do better by letting go of grudges and resentments.”
“I can do better by seeking less pleasure and more purpose.”

Maybe this prayer, I can better…would help our first student. The one worried about what happens if he eats non-Kosher food. The answer, don’t beat yourself up…you can do better. Sin in Judaism, Cheyt, is an archery term meaning to miss the mark. He missed the mark. Next time, he can do better. We all can.

Or as Rabbi Sid Schwarz, the founder of PANIM on Jewish leadership, once suggested to me personally at a retreat, rather than doing a negative hesbon hanefesh an accounting of the soul, how about creating a positive one. Rather than hearing the negative voices of ages past, try something like this:

I am articulate, beautiful, courageous, determined.

This takes the emphasis off of sin…

Perhaps we should do one for the congregation:
We are zealous (in a good way), yearning, welcoming and wise, valued and valuable, understanding, Torah based, service oriented, respectful, quiet, peaceful….

May this be a year of reconciliation and return, hope and renewal. A year of teshuvah, of asking and answering questions, of returning to a place where we can each do better.

Here is the prayer I offered from Jewish Women International:

“May the One who blessed our ancestors Sarah, Rebecca, Leah and Rachel, and Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, provide protection, compassion, care and healing for all those who have known violence and abuse within their families. May those who have been harmed find pathways to understanding and wholeness and those who have caused harm find their way to repentance and peace. May our community be a source of support for those who have suffered in silence or shame. May those whose homes have become places of danger find their way to a sukkat shalom, a shelter of safety.
Amen.—Jewish Women International

There are also prayers that can be said during Yizkor if you had a parent who hurt or for victims of abuse because life is really complicated and messy.

A Yizkor Meditation in Memory of a Parent Who Hurt

By Rabbi Robert Saks

Dear God,

You know my heart.

Indeed, You know me better than I know myself, so I turn to You before I rise for Kaddish.

My emotions swirl as I say this prayer. The parent I remember was not kind to me. His/her death left me with a legacy of unhealed wounds, of anger and of dismay that a parent could hurt a child as I was hurt.

I do not want to pretend to love, or to grief that I do not feel, but I do want to do what is right as a Jew and as a child.

Help me, O God, to subdue my bitter emotions that do me no good, and to find that place in myself where happier memories may lie hidden, and where grief for all that could have been, all that should have been, may be calmed by forgiveness, or at least soothed by the passage of time.

I pray that You, who raise up slaves to freedom, will liberate me from the oppression of my hurt and anger, and that You will lead me from this desert to Your holy place.

A Yizkor Prayer For Victims of Abuse

by Rabbi Ira F. Stone

May God remember my (father) (mother)

_____________________ben/bat________________

who has gone to his/her eternal home.

May he/she be granted an opportunity

to expiate the sins of his/her

terrible acts against me.

May the loving fire of God’s justice

relieve him/her of the pain which corrupted

the natural love of a parent for a child.

May God help me remember

that my mother/father joined

with God in giving me the gift of life

and for that gift, despite the pain

that has at times accompanied it,

I am grateful.

Mindful of that gratitude

and as an offering on behalf of my

father’s/mother’s penitence, I pledge

to do acts of loving kindness and charity.

May my father/mother at last fine peace

in the eternal bond with God.

May I find peace in this world

and salvation in the world to come

“It’s alright to cry…crying gets the sad out of you.
It’s alright to cry…it might make you feel better”

Free to be you and me…Rosie Greer

Sometimes we don’t want to do what we are supposed to do. Many of you may have wanted to stay in bed a little longer this morning. But we’re glad you are here. Sometimes our leaders don’t want to do what they have to do either. Moses thought he wasn’t capable because he was “slow of speech” according to the midrash. Jonah felt that it wouldn’t matter if he went to Ninevah and he tried to run as far away as possible all the way to Tarshish. We will hear that story again on Yom Kippur. Esther didn’t want to go to the king, she was afraid for her own life until Mordecai convinced her she might be in that very place and time just for that reason. She found her voice.

It’s alright to cry…G-d will hear our cries.

Yesterday we read the story of Hagar and Ishmael being sent into the wilderness by Abraham at the behest of Sarah. It is not a pretty story. After the water and bread run out, Hagar places the lad under a bush and cries out, “Do not let me look on while the child dies.” She can’t even use his name; she is so pained. Then something remarkable happens. The Lord hears the cry of the lad. Wait, what? Didn’t Hagar just cry out? Then Hagar’s eyes are opened and she finds the water from the spring that was there all along. The message is keep trying, again and again, and you will find the life giving water.

The message is that G-d hears our cries. All of our cries. Even the silent ones.

When the Israelites were slaves in Egypt, they cried out, and their cry came up to G-d. And the Lord said, I have surely seen the affliction of my people which are in Egypt and have heard their cry.

The message is G-d hears our cries. All of our cries. Even when we are enslaved. Even when we are in pain.

Yesterday, we also read about Hannah, barren, who prayed long before the Lord and wept bitterly. She prayed without her lips moving, so that Eli, the priest, thought she was drunk. Yet, the Lord heard her weeping and gave to her a son who she called Samuel, Shmual, The Lord Heard.

The message, again, is that G-d hears our cries. All of our cries. Even when we have no words.

Rosh Hashanah seems like a holiday of tears. Sarah is happy at giving birth, but then as we read this morning, there is the Akedah, the binding of Isaac. She may have died of a broken heart. And Isaac, the midrash teaches that he went blind from his tears. And in the haftarah, Rachel cries for her children.

Over and over again in our liturgy, we beg G-d. “Sh’ma koleinu, Hear our voice. Do not hide Your face from us.” We want to be seen. We want to be heard. We need to be.

Yet we are told in Psalm 30, “I cried out and You healed me…Weeping may tarry for the night but joy comes with the dawn.” It reassures and comforts.

Why do we care in this day and age if G-d hears our cries? Why do we cry out to G-d at all? In Brene Brown’s book, Dare to Lead, the ability to cry, the ability to express our own vulnerability is an important part of leadership. Leadership is not about titles or the corner office. It’s about the willingness to step up, put yourself out there, and lean into courage.” Ultimately the goal of her book is to live and lead wholeheartedly. To be wholehearted means to operate from a place of worthiness—that regardless of what might or might not happen during the course of the day, you are enough.

Our Biblical leaders exhibit exactly that. They are not perfect, not by a long shot, but they are living and leading wholeheartedly. Authentically. Even when they don’t want to, even when it means they have to cry. Remember, it’s alright to cry.

That’s what G-d demands of us. Not that we be perfect, she talks about perfectionism in her book too, but that we strive to be whole. The word Shalom in Hebrew, which we translate as peace, has that sense of wholeness or completeness.

Soon we will hear the voice of the shofar. It is the only commandment for Rosh Hashanah, that you hear the sound of the shofar. We have a master shofar blower here at CKI…and several budding ones.

The shofar cries too. A wordless cry. From deep within. Three different notes, all to sound like crying. Tekiah, a long battle cry, an alarm clock waking us up, preparing us for action. Shevarim, three short notes, broken sighs or weeping. And Truah, nine staccato notes that some say sound like whimpering.

But this is Judaism, so there was an argument, a debate about how those second notes should sound. Perhaps it should sound like groaning. Woe is me. Or, perhaps, it should sound like crying. I am terribly sorry about how I misbehaved. And so we have the 3-part Shevarim, the groan, the sigh and then the 9 part Truah, the nine part piecing cry.

Rabbi Isaiah Horowitz teaches us, “…This is the theme of Rosh ha-Shanah. We were whole, we became broken, but we shall be whole again. We were whole, broken, even shattered into the fragments of the teru’ah but we shall yet be whole again.” [quoted in The Jewish Holidays, Michael Strassfield; p. 100]

When we listen carefully to the notes of the Shofar, we are listening to our whole self and our broken self. The challenge is to bring them together.

The shofar service is an ancient service. The rabbis of the Talmud mandated 100 blasts of the shofar, based on the 100 cries of the mother Sisera. (Talmud Rosh Hashanah 33b). She is waiting for her son to return from battle and is losing hope. She begins to weep. Soon she learns that her son has been killed in battle.

This day itself is called Yom Truah, the Day of Groaning or Wailing, not Rosh Hashanah, the head of the year, in the Torah. The word Truah is in Psalm 150, the last Psalm in the book of Psalms. Praise G-d with taka shofar, b’tzelah truah.

The Ben Ish Chai writes that these sounds are meant to contrast with the tekiah. The tekiah, he explains, is a sound of triumph and joy, while the shevarim and teruah are sounds of pain and suffering. Because of the opposing feelings they represent, when one blows the shofar, he is not to connect the tekiah with the others, by blowing the sounds with the same breath.

There is so much pain and suffering in the world that when Rabbis for Human Rights of North America, of which I am a proud member for over a decade chose a new name, we are called Truah. It offers a clarion call for justice, just as the shofar demands.

Sherri Mandall writing for Aish.com teaches: “The shofar’s cries tells us that inside of all of us there is a place of brokenness, of darkness, of shock, of tears. But the shofar also reminds us of the word shipur, to improve, to get better. The shofar is supposed to remind us of the fact that Isaac was spared, that a ram was offered instead of a person. That is the purpose of the tears, of the wordless cry. Not to surrender to despair. To be shocked, not into complacency but into elevation, into making our lives an offering — not by dying but by living and loving God.” https://www.aish.com/h/hh/rh/shofar/48964221.html

We show that love by our very actions.

But before we can act. Before we can show that love of G-d, we need to hear the wordless cry from deep within. We need to bring our wholeness and our brokenness together. That is the message of the shofar’s cries. That is the message of the leadership of Hagar and Hannah, Sarah and Rachel. We lead with our vulnerability. It’s alright to cry. The message of the shofar is that G-d will hear our cries and make us whole.

In a little while you will hear a haunting prayer, Hineini. Hineini, Here am I. Hineini, Here I am, the words that Abraham utters to G-d.

Hiney…Ma Tov…How good and pleasant it is for people to dwell together. Hiney. Behold. Here.

Hineini only appears 8 times in the Bible, the three of them come is in the Rosh Hashanah’s readings. When G-d calls to Abraham, he answers, “Hineini, Here am I.” Abraham is ready, fully present, to answer G-d’s calls, ready to do G-d’s will. Prepared. Later in this terrifying portion, Isaac calls out to his father and again Abraham answers, “Hineini, b’ni, Here am I, my son.” And just as Abraham is about to slit his own son’s throat, an angel calls out, “Abraham, Abraham”, and again Abraham responds, “Hineini.”

Each time Hineini appears, it marks a pivotal moment in the action. Behold. Here. Right now. Pay attention. This is important.

When Jacob tricks his blind father out of Esau’s rightful blessing, nonetheless, Isaac responds with “Hineini”. When Jacob falls asleep on the road and G-d calls out in a dream, “Jacob, Jacob” and Jacob answers Hineini . Jacob calls out to Joseph and Joseph answers Hineni. The cycle seems to have come full circle.. And when G-d calls to Moses from the burning bush, “Moses, Moses,” Moses recognizes he is standing on holy ground, takes off his sandals, and answers Hineini.

We know that there are no extra words in the Torah, so why does G-d call out “Abraham, Abraham”, or “Moses, Moses”? Why the double name? Erica Brown, a Jewish philosophy professor teaches, the Torah invites us to invite. If you, as the leader want to get someone to do something, you have to ask. If you don’t ask, you don’t get. And G-d is the ultimate leader. It’s also who you ask and how. When you recruit someone to a task, you want to use his or her name to make the argument for uniqueness. It is no coincidence that in several call texts, God or an angel doubles the name: Abraham, Abraham. Moses, Moses, Samuel, Samuel – as if to say, it’s you and only you. And the call needs to be specific to a task so that when the magic word Hineni is said, it is said with full recognition of the momentousness and consequences of what lies ahead. And a call has to be just that: a call. It’s the singling out of someone for something special, a selection. It’s the power of invitation.”

http://www.ericabrown.com/new-blog-1/2015/12/24/the-hineni-moment

Each of you has a calling. A place where your great joy meets the world’s great need., as Frederick Buechner teaches. Each of you has a task that only you can fulfill.

There is one thing that stands out in these episodes to me. Each carries with it a sense of humility on the part of each of our Biblical characters, our leaders. Humility is such an important quality in a leader. Every week I am reminded of that when I stand before you and G-d. “Da lifney mi atah omaid. Know before whom you stand.” Who am I to possibly stand before you? Or before G-d! It keeps me humble.

As we explored yesterday, there are many styles of leadership. If I had to classify mine, I would call it collaborative. I work best as part of team. I know that I don’t know everything and that together we are better. You are all on my team. Perhaps the best book I read this year was Lifelong Kindergarten, which asserts that people learn best when they are encouraged to play, with peers and passion and projects. When they are working together. Not in a more typical top down hierarchical classroom. Because of a JUF symposium on the Changing Paradigm of Jewish Education, and the gift of that very book, we are demonstrating leadership here at CKI by changing our model of Hebrew learning. We are piloting nationally our coaching program and it is off to a good start. We are leading the way and meeting families and individual students with their unique learning styles, where they are.

Another collaborative leader that I greatly admire you will hear from shortly, CEO Tony Sanders of the U-46 School System. I’ll let him tell you what his leadership style is.

Contrast our word of response Hineni, Here am I with when G-d calls out to Adam and Eve, Ayekcha, Where are you…?

There is no response. Nothing. Oh sure, G-d knows where they are…so this is not a question about where are they physically. The question is really about where are they spiritually, emotionally, morally. Adam and Eve seem too ashamed to answer.

G-d is calling to each of us. Ayecha? Where are you? What is G-d calling us to do? To be where?

That is the question of this High Holy Day period. Ayecha? Where are you? Where are you going? Perhaps you will hear the echo of that question when you are stopped at a stoplight. Where are you? Where are you going? It is not about where are you physically present. It is not about going left or right or straight ahead. It is not about going to the grocery store or the movies or to pick up the kids. It is more of an existential question. I am not only here. But I’m here. Spiritually, I’m all in. I’m prepared to reflect on who I am, what’s important to me and what changes I am prepared to make for myself and others.

Where are you? Spiritually, emotionally, morally?

Where do you want to be in your life? Where do you want to be with your family? Your friends? Your community? Your work? How do you answer Hineini with your lives?

Shanah means both year and change in Hebrew. What change do you want to make this year?

Answering Hineini is about being fully present. Saying I am here. I am here, ready to serve.

Wait…I have to answer this call…now where is that phone. Maybe I left it in the kitchen. (Risa got up to find it, illustrating the point!)

Actually, there is no incoming call for me. But there is an issue. So many of us multi-task so much of the day, that perhaps we will miss the burning bush. Or maybe we will even be so busy uploading the picture of that burning bush to Facebook or Instagram or Pinterest we won’t hear the call. Or maybe we will be waiting for the phone to ring or the text message to come that we miss what our partner says at dinner. Ayeka? Where are you? Glued to our electronic devices. This may be the opposite of humility. It maybe hubris to think that whatever that incoming phone call or Facebook message is more important than what you were doing. Unless you are a doctor or one of our police officers, it can probably wait. And should.

Shortly we will hear the prayer, Hinini. It is essentially the same word. The cantor begins, “Hinini, Here am I, pleading on behalf of G-d’s people. Here I am, impoverished in deeds and merit. But nevertheless I have come before You, God, to plead on behalf of Your people Israel.”

Humble. And while it is in the singular, it is for all of us. The cantor does not pray for us, but with us. We don’t need an intermediary in Judaism. The cantor walks slowly from the back, passing through the congregation. It symbolizes that the congregation has sent the cantor, the cantor is the shaliach tzibbur, the messenger of the congregation. But the the congregation reads along with the cantor. It’s all of us!

In fact, while in some places this becomes the pinnacle moment in the cantor’s year, the Hineini prayer is just an expansion, a grand, dramatic expression, of a prayer we have already done—that it is at the beginning of every Amidah, “Adonai Sifitai Tiftach ufi yagid tehilatecha. O Lord, open up my lips that my mouth may declare Your praise.” And at the conclusion of the Amidah, we recite, “Yehiyu l’ratzon imre fe, May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable to You, my Rock and my Redeemer.”

The hardest word to say in this prayer might be the very first one. Hinini. Here am I. Am I worthy enough to say it? Am I really, really here, ready to serve or am I just “phoning it in” as they say in the theater world? And how dare I put myself into the same category as Abraham and Moses? It seems the opposite of humble.

Rabbi Mishael Zion points out that there are at least three personal qualities addressed in Hineni: The first is an awareness of our own abilities. There are times when we are called on to serve, when our skills or insights are urgently needed. At such times, he says, we must own our own strengths and step up to the plate, “Hineini, Here I stand, ready to lead.” To shrink from this challenge would be to deny others the opportunity for growth or healing because of our lack of awareness or fear.

Then again, we might be afraid. We might worry that we don’t possess enough skills. We would not be alone in that fear. The famous psychotherapist, Carl Rogers said, “Before every session, I take a moment to remember my humanity. There is no experience that this man has that I cannot share with him, no fear that I cannot understand, no suffering that I cannot care about, because I too am human.
No matter how deep his wound, he does not need to be ashamed in front of me.
I too am vulnerable.
And because of this, I am enough.
Whatever his story, he no longer needs to be alone with it.
This is what will allow his healing to begin.”

That’s leadership.

Remember, we are not called to be perfect. We are called to be present. Hineini. We are not called to be Moses. Or Carl Rogers. We are called to be our own authentic selves.

Of course, as Rabbi Zion says, “ there is a fine line between confidence and arrogance. It is crucial that as we step forth to lead, we also remain aware of our limitations. This is why after stating, “Here I am,” the prayer leader immediately continues with the words “a person of impoverished acts.” This is, I would add, that humble moment, aware of our limitations and shortcomings. Who among us could not do more or better for other people, for the Earth or for God? It is no wonder that Moses — the great model of Jewish leadership — is also described in the Torah as “the most humble of all people” (Numbers 12:3). But our awareness of our inadequacies cannot lead to paralysis. As the prayer continues, “Please do not allow my own sins and shortcomings to bear on my actions on their behalf.” While it is impossible to fully prevent our personal flaws from impacting our work with others, we must be self-reflective and actively work to improve them.”

Again, we are not called upon to be perfect. We are called to be present. We are called to be whole.

The third element that Rabbi Zion addresses from our prayer Hineni is the texts’ statement about the need for support from others. We must find allies, partners and mentors to help us grow and thrive as leaders. Recognizing this fact, the anonymous author of our prayer turns to the angels for assistance…Being a shaliach tzibur never means going it alone, but rather joining with our community in prayer or action, leading and listening as the experience unfolds.”

That’s true for this rabbi, this cantor, this choir, this CKI president, this neighborhood, this wider community. We are all in. All present. And all together, working for the common good.

There is one more use of Hineini in the Bible. In Isaiah, God says that there will come a time if we act ethically that we will call out and God will respond “Here I am!” (Isaiah 52:6; 58:6-9; 65:1). G-d, as G-d promised, will be our partner in the work of Tikkun Olam. G=d too will be fully present when we call and answer Hineni.

We are here. Right here, at CKI, ready to answer G-d’s call, although as the prayer says, we have little merit. We are humble and ready to do the work of teshuvah, return. Right here, right now. We are answering Hineini with our lives.

Welcome home. Welcome back. Welcome here. This Day One of Year One is the first day of 5780.

This is a year of transition, as we have said before. It is the first year of the rest of your life. It is the first day of the rest of your life. Transition can be scary. No body likes change. We talk about liminal time. It is the time in between Tonight. This very night. Is liminal time.

Richard Rohr said that Limen is the Latin word for threshold. “A liminal space” is the crucial in-between time when everything actually happens and yet nothing appears to be happening. We often enter liminal space when our former way of being is challenged or changed…During this graced time we are not certain or in control. This openness allows room for something genuinely new to happen. We are empty and receptive. Liminal space is where we are most able to hear and learn.”

I invite you to cross over the threshold, to enter this space, to begin this time of reflection and renewal together.

You won’t be alone. Here you will find music to soothe the soul. You will find friends and family. You will find uplifting words and sometimes challenging ones. You will find an oasis of peace. You find tradition meeting modernity. You may even help us figure that out that path as we find meaning together. And you will find leaders who are committed to welcoming you so that you feel you belong. Here. Welcome home.

This year, this whole year, as a community we will be looking at leaders and leadership as we continue in this transitional time. As many of you know, we have a new president this year, Risa Cohen. We also have a new Executive Vice President, Robin Coyne, a new treasurer, Sandi Phelan, a new VP of Ritual, Dan Knopoff, a new VP of Education, Micheline Welch and a new kitchen chair, Theresa Friedman. All of them were ready, are ready to answer the call. Hineni, Here am I. We will talk more about Hineni tomorrow.

Tonight I want to talk about leadership. What is a leader…or maybe better, who is a leader?

“the person who leads or commands a group, organization, or country.” Now my high school English teacher isn’t very happy. We all learned that you can’t use the same word to define a word. A leader then is:

chief, head, principal, boss;
commander, captain;
figurehead, controller, superior, kingpin, headman, mover and shaker;
chairman, chairwoman, chairperson, chair, convener, moderator;
director, managing director, MD, manager, superintendent, supervisor, overseer, administrator, employer,
master, mistress, foreman;
president, premier, governor;
ruler, monarch, king, queen, sovereign, emperor, tsar, prince, princess, lord, lord and master; elder, patriarch; guru, mentor, authority;

That’s a long list. Yet it helps us understand what a leader is.

The word itself comes from the Old English, laeder, one who guides or brings forth. That interests me…but perhaps because I always am interested in etymology.

In Hebrew one word for leader is madrich. You may have heard this term if you bounced on a bus in Israel. The tour guide is a madrich, or a madricha. In Torah School we often call our student aides Madrichim. If you take off the mem at the beginning , you have the root word derech, road or path. So a leader is one who guides you on the path.

There are a few other words in Hebrew for leader:
Manhig, One who drives, a driver, someone who can get things done.
Rosh, Head, just like Rosh Hashanah, head of the year, Rosh is the head of an organization, Rosh Yeshiva, Rosh Hamemshalah
Dabar and Nagid, both have to do with speaking and telling. These leaders tell us what to do.
Moreh or Morah Derech, like Madrich, a teacher of the path.

A long time ago, I had an argument with my one of my step-daughters. Her daughter was then a first year Girl Scout, the fourth generation in our family to be one, but my step-daughter didn’t like that they were training her to be a leader. “Not everyone can be a leader”. And in fact, we have a phrase about too many cooks in the kitchen spoiling the broth.

The irony is she is now the president of the Loudon County (VA) League of Women Voters. And we are proud of her for that. It is a leadership role. Why did she take it? Because no one else would do it. Maybe she was wrong after all. Each of us can be a leader, someone who steps into the breach and guides us on the path.

There are different leadership styles. According to the Guide for Junior Girl Scout Leaders:

The Director gives very good direction and makes sure everyone does his or her job. They make certain that rules are clear and that everyone is expected to follow them. We know this from Moses who relayed the commandments making sure that everyone knew them.

The Coach uses a style that provides both direction and supervision but encourages the involvement of everyone. She will explain the work that lies ahead, discuss decisions and answer questions. We know this from Bezazel, the architect and chief foreman of building the Mishkan. He had the plans and made sure that everyone contributed to the building with their own expertise and the offerings of their heart.

The Supporter works with other members of the group to set goals and list steps to achieve the goals. A supporter encourages everyone to make decisions and gives each member the help they need. We know this from Miriam, who grabbed a timbrel in her hand and offered leadership and inspiration.

The Delegator gives everyone a share of the work. A delegator lets group members make decisions and take on as much responsibility as they can handle. Is there to answer questions, but wants them to take as much responsibility for their actions as possible. We know this one from Moses, who was learned how from Jethro, his father-in-law, the priest of the Midianites, how to delegate.

Perhaps you are sitting there thinking, “I can’t be a leader.” Hear one story of a woman just one week shy of her own 18th birthday on 9/11/2001. She watched the news and felt so helpless. After all, as she said, “I was still a kid, what was I supposed to do?” But she heard the reporters say that the “”the rescue workers are melting through their boots, they are in desperate need of gloves, boots, and other rescue supplies.” She worked at a trucking company in Western Michigan. This was something she could do. Move goods from one place to another. As she said, “We ended up filling a full trailer of water, oxygen and supplies. We delivered in less than 72 hours. We beat FEMA to the ground.”

She continues, “When I do tell this story, people usually want to focus on how amazing I am. The reality is that I had no special training. I didn’t know what I was doing. I just knew that something had to be done. Two things that I learned during 9/11 that I want to pass onto my children. One – fear and hate lead nowhere good. Today our country is more divided than any time in my memory. So many in leadership are building hate and fear. We have a responsibility to stop it and speak the truth. Two – we all have more power than we realize. There is always SOMETHING you can do. Even if it is small. We never know how our small actions will snowball into something bigger. If you see something wrong in the world, do something. Say something. YOU matter. YOU have power. When we are tricked into believing there is nothing we can do is when evil wins.”

Let me underscore what she said. YOU matter. YOU have power. When we are tricked into believing there is nothing we can do is when evil wins.

Rivka Hodgkinson is a leader. Then and now.

Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks identifies 7 principles of Jewish leadership:

1. It begins with taking responsibility.
2. No one can lead alone
3. Leadership is about the future: It is vision-driven
4. Leaders learn.
5. Leadership means believing in the people you lead.
6. Leadership involves a sense of timing and pace.
7. Leadership is stressful and emotionally demanding.

He illustrates these by using the same Biblical stories we have used.

http://rabbisacks.org/seven-principles-of-jewish-leadership-written-for-the-adam-science-foundation-leadership-programme/

What do we want from our leaders, especially our Jewish leaders? We want people

• Who are honest with integrity. …
• Who inspire others. …
• Who demonstrate commitment and passion. …
• Who are good communicators. …
• Who have good decision-making capabilities. …
• Who are accountable. …
• Who delegate and empower. …
• Who are creativity and innovative
• Who are good listeners
• Who have the ability to admit when they make a mistake.

In short, we want you. We need you. As Rivka suggests if you see something you can do, that you want to do, just ask. Take it on. We will appreciate and nurture your leadership.

Now this is the interactive part. When you join us out in the social hall for our annual apples and honey fest, (thank you Phelans for hosting and doing the work. That shows your leadership.) find the board with the list of leadership qualities that the Torah School students and their families developed. They get it. Then take some apple stickers, and choose two, just two qualities that you feel are most important to you.

That’s part of our leadership too. Passing down our traditions, our values from one generation to the next, l’dor v’dor. Just as Pirke Avot teaches us:

Moses received the Torah at Sinai and transmitted it to Joshua; Joshua to the elders, and the elders to the prophets, and the prophets to the men of the Great Assembly. They said three things: be patient in judgment, raise up many students, and make a fence round the torah. (Pirke Avot 1:1) Now we pass down these values from generation to generation. To our children and our children’s children.

But don’t worry. Pirke Avot teaches as well:
Lo alecha ham’lacha ligmor,
Lo alecha ligmor.

V’lo ata ben chorim l’hibatil mimena,

We are not obligated to finish the task, neither are we free to ignore it.

Don’t be afraid. You don’t’ have to be Moses, or Joshua, Miriam or Jethro. Or even Rivka Hodgkinson. You just have to be you. Reb Zusia teaches us that. When he was on his deathbed, he said to his students, “The other day, I had a vision. In it, I learned that the angels will one day ask me about my life.” This surprised his students, since Reb Zusia was pious, scholarly and humble. A good teacher. A role model. Kind and compassionate. He replied, “The angels will not ask me, why were you not Moses. But rather, why were you not Zusia.”

Inside each of you there is a core. A spark of the Divine because we are all created b’tzelem elohim, in the image of G-d. Inside each of you, there is a bulb…some thing that will grow into a beautiful flower, that G-d planted within us. Light is sown, planted for the righteous and joy for the upright in heart. It is our job to figure out what our unique role is, what our unique task is, mch what that bulb is and where it can be planted.

Your work, this High Holiday season, at this time of transition and liminality is to find your inner core. To discover who you truly are. So that when life itself hangs in the balance, you can answer, “I am I” While you are enjoying those apples and honey, please take a tulip bulb home with you and plant it to remind you of your inner core.

Yesterday, on the last Shabbat of 5779, we had a baby naming. It was perfect. What a great way to end the old year and begin the new. Sometimes, everything works. Here are my remarks:

Today’s the day I take my stand, the future’s mine to hold.
Commitments that I make today are dreams from days of old.
I have to make the way for generations come and go.
I have to teach them what I’ve learned so they will come to know.
That the old shall dream dreams, and the youth shall see visions,
And our hopes shall rise up to the sky.
We must live for today; we must build for tomorrow.
Give us time, give us strength, give us life.
Give us time, give us strength, give us life.

Debbie Friedman, z”l

Atem nitzavim hayom. You stand here today. All of you. Before the Lord your G-d, your heads of your tribes, your elders, your officers with all the people of Israel. Your wives. Your children—your tapchem—your little ones, the strangers in your gates, the woodchoppers and the water drawers. All means all.

When Morgan and I planned the date for this, we didn’t quite realize just how appropriate this morning would be. She just wanted to make sure to enter the new year with this detail done. Checked off her to do list.

But it is right there in the portion. All of you are standing here. Even the little one. We are all created b’tzelem elohim, in the image of G-d. All means all. To enter into the covenant. This covenant. It gives us the recipe for naming a child.

Always the Shabbat before Rosh Hashanah. Always the whole parsha. We have a choice. We can choose to stand here. Or not. Morgan and Ryan on behalf of the little one are choosing to be here. And so are the little one’s other relatives and friends. We are acting out this portion in very profound ways.

You are all standing here…you leaders of this congregation, your elders, your husbands and wives, your little ones, even the strangers among you. These very words. This very day. How wonderful.

Nitzvaim, Strong’s Biblical Dictionary says it means: to stand, take one’s stand, stand upright, be set (over), establish. You are establishing a Jewish home with this service. You are standing upright and being proud of that heritage, that very precious legacy.

Stand up. Stand for. Stand over. Stand by. This is about standing up and being counted. About not being a bystander but rather an upstander. It is about standing for something of value.

When do we stand? We stand to show respect. When an elder walks into the room. When the Torah is raised, we are standing. We stand when something is important.

But what about those woodchoppers and water drawers. Who are they? How do they count? Rabbi Bradley Shavit Artson at the Ziegler School in Los Angeles teaches that they are each of us. That we should see woodcutters as a metaphor for possible abuse in our interpersonal relationships. We cut down people, prove them), or shape them into what we want them to be. It happens in our families, in our synagogues, in our work world and in our wider communities. “Instead of chipping away at the edges to see what is truly beneath a person’s exterior, we (often by accident) cut too much, creating scraps that are difficult to reassemble.” He reminds us that we do this with G-d as well.

He understands water drawers: as a metaphor, a symbol of inspiration, “waiting for us to engage them, learn from them, be nourished and satiated by them, and to ultimately compliment one another. This suggests that our relationships go two ways. We give, and we receive (and the two are not always equal). There are limits, though. A well can dry up if one draws too much without replenishing it, offering something in return. But finding that balance is not so simple.”

The first letter of our portion is “Alef” the first letter of the Alef Bet. The first letter of the first 10 Commandment. The Zohar teaches that Alef, contains the entire Torah. But not everyone is ready to hear the gentle sound of alef, People are only able to hear what they are ready to hear. G-d speaks to each of us in a personal way, taking into consideration our strength wisdom and preparation. The Midrash even tells us that G-d’s voice is so powerful and frightening that G-d tempers it by creating different sounds for each person.

There was even a different sounding voice just for the ears of small children.

In a d’var Torah for young Jewish educators and parents we learn that this is yet another message here: “It is important not only to show up but to welcome others to do so as well. The above statement may be read as Moses speaking of future generations who are also subject to the covenant. However, it reminds us that physical proximity is not the only reason that people may not be present. Moses could also be speaking of those who are disenfranchised, who are oppressed, who, perhaps, might not feel that they have the choice to show up. We all have a role in our communities and in the world at large: To continue to widen our circles and to help everyone know that they are important and that they are welcome. As parents and teachers of young children, this parashah can remind us that it is incumbent upon us to be models for our children so that they know that being present-that standing up and participating in the lives of our own family, our community and our world-is a gift to be cherished and nurtured, always. While counting our blessings, we must also remember to look outside of our own lives, to do our utmost to help everyone feel heard and acknowledged and a part of the circle.” https://reformjudaism.org/nitzavim-tots

The very last group of people standing together in this portion is “with those who are not with us here this day. They are standing with us today too!

Usually, it is forward thinking, even those yet unborn, about the generations to come. Today I think it links us to the generations come and gone. How Cheryl would have loved to have been here to see this, to actively participated in this, to stand up and be counted. Look around you, Morgan and Ryan and little one. It takes a village to raise a child, all of us standing together. Feel the love that is in this room.

And the old shall dream dreams and the youth shall see visions, and their hopes shall rise up to the sky…today we are standing here, all of us, to enter into this covenant, with all of our hopes and dreams.

Later in the baby naming itself, we used an old Irish blessing that the parents found on Interfaith Family. How delightful. These are my wishes for all of you for 5780:

May the blessing of light be with you always,

Light without and light within.

May the sun shine upon you and warm your heart

Until it glows like a great fire

So that others may feel the warmth of it.

And may the light of your eyes

Shine like two candle lights

In a window at night bidding the wanderer

To come in out of the dark and the cold.

And may the blessings of the rain be upon you,

The sweet and tender rain,

May it fall upon your spirit

As when flowers spring up and fragrance fills the air.

And may the blessings of the great rain

Wash you clean and fair,

And may the storms always leave you stronger

And more beautiful.

And when the rains are over may there be clear pools of water.

For on this day shall atonement be made for you, to cleanse you; from all your sins shall you be clean before the Lord” (Leviticus 16:30).

This verse isn’t about taking a shower clean, although go ahead and take one. Rather, as Anita Diamant and her team at Mayyim Hayyim has said it is about being “ritually ready.” Tonight’s session is about being prepared. About the hard work that comes before Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. That work begins now. This very evening. With the very words that G-d said we should use.

“For sins between individuals and God, Yom Kippur atones, but for sins between one and another, Yom Kippur does not atone until one appeases one’s fellow.” Yoma 87B

This means that before we achieve “at one ment “ with G-d, we need to make our relationships right with each other first. The word Selichot means, “Excuse me”. If I were to bump into you on the street in Jerusalem, literally walk into you, I would say, “Selicha, Excuse me.” That’s what we are doing tonight with these prayers. We are saying, “Selicha, G-d, excuse me. I messed up. I missed the mark.”

“When R. Zeira would have grounds (for a grievance) against someone, he would pass in front (of the offender), thereby making himself available to him so that help would come and appease him.” Yoma 87a

We learn from this that in order to ask for forgiveness, in order to make the relationship right again, you need to be fully present. You need to hear what the other person is saying, even if it makes you uncomfortable. Brene Brown in her book, Dare to Lead, has a lot to say about feedback loops. We need to have the courage to do this. But it isn’t easy. It takes courage.

Sometimes repairing our relationships takes leadership, humility, compassion and forgiveness.

Exodus 32-34:6-7

That phrase “pass before” brings us back to another moment. You remember the story of the Golden Calf? Moses was up on the mountain for a very long time, 40 days. The people got nervous. What if he isn’t coming back? What if he died? They begged Aaron to build a Golden Calf so they could pray, in the other way they knew how. And they did. Moses comes back down the mountain, carrying his heavy load, what are these stiffnecked people doing? Dancing around a calf. He’s angry, really really angry. Can’t he leave these people alone for a minute? He shatters the tablets. Now the Holy One is angry and threatens to destroy the very people G-d rescued from Egypt. What are your people doing? (Note the pronoun, your). Moses reminds G-d that these are G-d’s people and bringing them out of Egypt only to kill them in the wilderness would look bad. “What will the Egyptians think.?” It’s like asking “What will the neighbors say.” And it works. G-d agrees to spare G-d’s people. However, G-d demands that Moses come back up the mountain. Moses says he is tired. Why should he? This is a stiffnecked people. Who would go with him? G-d promises to go with him and lighten his burden and give him rest. G-d also promises to hide him in the cleft of the rock and make all His goodness pass before him. Moses goes up the mountain, is hidden in the rock and sees G-d’s backside. Whatever that means. I liken it to the wind. We can’t see the wind, but we can see the breeze in the trees. Others have said it is the “afterglow of G-d”.

And then…Moses hears the Thirteen Attributes of G-d, the very essence of G-d’s Being. The very words that we will hear tonight, in Stew Levin’s hauntingly beautiful rendition of them. The very words that each year we begin saying tonight as part of Selichot, saying “Excuse me”. The formal words. We know how to sing them, so let’s do that. Now let’s read them in English, so we are clear.

The Thirteen Attributes of the Divine: A way to heal

The Lord! The Lord! A God compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in kindness and faithfulness, extending kindness to the thousandth generation, forgiving iniquity, transgression and sin.

That’s what we just sang. That’s all we sing in the liturgy. But there is a little bit more:

yet He does not remit all punishment, but visits the iniquity of the fathers upon children and children’s children upon the third and fourth generation. (Exodus 34:6-7

The rabbis truncated the verse, reversing its meaning when we say it as part of the liturgy. It might be too scary sitting there if you heard that whatever you have done might be passed to your children and children’s children. In fact, the only sin that may not be able to be forgiven is idolatry.

Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge against anyone among your people, but love your neighbor as yourself. I am the LORD. Leviticus 19:18

The holiness code, which we know so well, is very clear in terms of repairing relationships. Do not seek revenge. That’s G-d’s job. Remember, “Vengeance is Mine,” says the Lord. And do not bear a grudge. No Hatfield and McCoy stuff here. No passing down these animosities from one generation to another. Even from one Yom Kippur to the next. We, too need to be like G-d and forgive.

Moses shows his leadership again while they are wandering in the desert.

Numbers 14:11-20

The people are kvetching again. G-d is threatening to destroy them, again. How long will they murmer against Me? Moses argues again that smiting the Israelites will not be good. Again, what will the Egyptians think? And then Moses adds: “ And now I pray, let the power of the Lord be great, according to what You have spoken: “The Lord is slow to anger, full of lovingkindess, forgiving of iniquity and transgression, that will be visiting the iniquity of the parents upon the children, upon the third and upon the fourth generation. Pardon, I pray You, the iniquity of this people according to the greatness of Your lovingkindness as You have forgiven this people from Egypt until even now.”

“And Lord said, Vayomer Adonai Selachti kidvarecha. I have pardoned you, according to your word.” Numbers 14:20

It is remarkable. It worked! And the very words that G-d says in response, are the very words you will hear again on Kol Nidre, right after Kol Nidre itself. Let that sink in, “Selachti kidvarecha. I have pardoned you.” Selicha.

Our verse keeps being repeated to effect change. Nehemiah, describing a day of fasting and penitential prayers, references the Golden Calf incident:

“Refusing to obey, unmindful of Your wonders that you did for them, they stiffened their necks, and in their defiance resolved to return to their slavery. But You, being a forgiving God, gracious and compassionate, long-suffering and abounding in faithfulness, did not abandon them.” Nehemiah 9:17

Then the reminder is repeated again a few verses later in Nehemiah 9:31, “Still in Your great compassion, You did not make an end of them or abandon them, for You are a gracious and compassionate God.”

Jonah, too feels he needs to remind G-d of G-d essential forgiving nature:
“He prayed to the Lord, saying, “O, Lord, isn’t this just what I said when I was still in my own country? That is why I fled beforehand to Tarshish. For I know that You are a compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in kindness, renouncing punishment.” Jonah 4:2

The Talmud explains how these are the very words that G-d taught Moses:

“The Holy One, blessed be He, drew his robe round Him like the reader8 of congregation and showed Moses the order of prayer. He said to him: Whenever Israel sins, let them carry out this service before Me, and I will forgive them. ‘The Lord, the Lord’: I am the Eternal before a man sins and the same10 after a man sins and repents. ‘A God merciful and gracious:’ Rav Judah said: A covenant has been made with the thirteen attributes that they will not be turned away empty-handed, as it says, Behold I make a covenant. (Ex. 34) (Talmud, Rosh Hashanah17b)

While anthropomorphic, I love this idea of G-d donning a robe or a tallit and being the prayer leader, the shliach tzibbur.

The midrash is clear. Just as G-d is gracious, compassionate and forgiving, we need to be gracious, compassionate, and forgiving:

“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). This means that just as God is gracious, compassionate, and forgiving, you too must be gracious, compassionate, and forgiving. (Sifre Deuteronomy)

David, knowing that because of Israel’s iniquities the Temple was to be destroyed and that offerings were to cease, was distressed for Israel and asked: When trouble (in the wake of sin) comes upon Israel, who will atone for them? The Holy One replied: David, do not be distressed. Long ago I disclosed to Moses the order of prayers for forgiveness saying to him When troubles come upon Israel, let them stand before Me as one band and utter in My presence the prayers for forgiveness, and I shall answer them. Where did He reveal this order of prayers? (At Sinai), When the Lord enfolded His face, and proclaimed (the thirteen attributes of his mercy) (Exodus 34:6). This verse proves, so says R. Johanan, that the Holy One came down out of His thick cloud like an emissary of the congregation who enfolds himself in his prayer shawl as he takes his place before the ark, and disclosed to Moses the order of prayers for forgiveness….Whenever Israel gather in My presence and stand before Me as one band, crying out in My presence the order of prayer for forgiveness, I shall answer them. (Tana debe Eliyahu, page 516)

But there is one more piece. It is not just begging for forgiveness. Selichot prayers are important. However, as we learn from the Isaiah text for Yom Kippur afternoon, we need to feed the hungry and clothe the naked and house the homeless. That’s the fast that G-d desires. That and this:

“One time, when Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai was walking in Jerusalem with Rabbi Joshua, they arrived at where the Temple now stood in ruins. “Woe to us” cried Rabbi Joshua, “for this house where atonement was made for Israel’s sins now lies in ruins!” Answered Rabban Yochanan, “We have another, equally important source of atonement, the practice of gemilut hasadim (“loving kindness”), as it is stated “I desire loving kindness and not sacrifice” (Hosea 6:6) Avot de Rabbi Natan

So later this evening, when you hear Stew’s composition of the 13 Attributes, know, really know, that because G-d is full of mercy and compassion, you are forgiven, pardoned, according to your word.

Last Friday night was a beautiful full moon. And it was Friday the 13^th. Are you scared? I addressed it fully as part of my Friday night sermon. Our Friday night service starts on page 13 in our book. With words of welcome to the Shabbat angels…Shalom Aleichem, we bid them. Shalom Aleichem to you as well.

For some reason, 13 became associated with being unlucky. Why is that? Perhaps, it is from the Mayans who thought that the 13^th Baktun on their calendar was superstitiously feared as a harbinger of some apocalypse. That might be why office buildings and hotels skip the 13^th floor. It might be because of the Last Supper, where there were 13 people gathered around the table, Jesus and his 12 apostles. Judas, the 13^th to be seated is the one who “betrayed” Jesus making that him the unlucky one. Or on Friday the 13^th in October 1307, King Philip the IV of France ordered the arrest of the Knights Templar. Or in a year with 13 full moons instead of 12 the Christian monks had a hard time designing the calendar appropriately.

But in Judaism, it is quite the opposite. It is actually a lucky number. Or at least as one source said, a “spiritually significant one.”

13 is the age of responsibility. The age of being responsible for the commandments, the mitzvot, celebrated with a Bar Mitzvah. We learn this from Pirke Avot 5:21.

Abraham entered into 13 covenants with G-d with Brit Milah, the covenant of circumcision. We know this from the repetition of the word “brit” when G-d commands Abraham 13 times. (Genesis 17:1-21 and Berachot 49a)

There are 13 rules of hermeneutics, the principles by which the rabbi interpret the Torah.

There were 13 shofrot, shofar shaped tzedakah boxes in the Holy Temple in Jerusalem. (Mishnah Shkalim 6:1) And while we only prostrate now on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, in the Temple period there were 13 prostrations as part of the Temple service.

In the Messianic era, the Land of Israel will be divided into 13 tribal sections instead of the original 12 during Joshua’s day. (Talmud, Bava Batra 122a)

Maimonides formulated 13 principles of faith in his commentary of the Mishnah, Sanhedrin chapter 10). I have often thought this was in response to the Christian Nicene Creed recited as part of a Catholic Mass. (But I haven’t gotten around to writing that academic paper!). However it is included in traditional siddur as part of the daily service and you will recognize it when we sing Yigdal at the end of the service if you read the English.

For those of you who love Jewish math, Gematria. Ahava, love and echad, one both equal 13.

In the Kabbalah, Jewish mystical tradition, 13 represents the ability of the Jewish people to rise about the 12 signs of the Zodiac, and the influence of the Cosmos.

Rabbi Adin Steinsalz, the leading modern expert on the Talmud with a masterful translation of his own, wrote a book, the Thirteen Petalled Rose. The title comes from the opening of the Zohar, also a text of Jewish mysticism, comparing the Jewish people to the rose which has….13 petals!

However, at this season of teshuvah, returning and repair, perhaps the luckiest 13 of all, is the 13 Attributes of the Divine.  These attributes which are what Moses heard on Mount Sinai, after he smashed the 10 Commandments, and after he went back up to receive a second set, are the very words that we learn help us ask for forgiveness, for selichot. They are repeated over and over again. You guessed it, 13 times during Ma’ariv and Ne’ilah, the evening and then the final service of Yom Kippur. They remind us, and G-d that G-d is merciful and compassionate, slow to anger and patient, full of lovingkindness and truth, extending that love to the 1000^th generation (that would include us!) and is forgiving of transgression, iniquity and sin. Just the anecdote we need!

The 13 Attributes I think I know a lot about. It was part of my Bat Mitzvah portion. The verse, Exodus 34:6-7 is why I became a rabbi. I wrote my rabbinic thesis on it and then a book, Climbing Toward Yom Kippur. Every time I think I can’t learn anything more about this topic, I do! I, too, am a life long learner.

While I have oft thought about the number 13 in Judaism and even was given a surprise party for my 13^th birthday based on the number 13 and the usual superstitions, I didn’t have this full list. Credit goes to the Torchweb for adding to my knowledge. https://www.torchweb.org/torah_detail.php?id=226

May this be a Selichot season full of all 13 Attributes of Divine Mercy, Compassion, Love and Forgiveness.

Hashivenu, hashivenu Adonai elecha
Venashuva venashuva
Hadesh Hadesh yamenuke ke dem

Turn us back, turn us back, O LORD to You
and we will turn, and we will turn
renew, renew our days as before.
Lamentations 5:21

This song, from the Book of Lamentation, links our season, from Tisha B’av and destruction to Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur with its promise of renewal, reconciliation and redemption.

“Uvchesed olam richamtich. I will take you back in love.” This is the 5th Shabbat of comfort, consolation after Tisha B’av. And as we draw closer, ever closer to Rosh Hashanah, these words are of great comfort.

I will take you back in love. What does that mean? That no matter what we have done, G-d will take us back. Even though we as a community and as individuals may have sinned, gone after strange gods, G-d, in G-d’s ever present mercy and love will take us back.

Even though as our haftarah suggests, G-d was angry with us for a moment, G-d will take us back and love us, with an unending love. As a community and as individuals.

It is a two way street. If G-d loves us, then we should love G-d. We know this from the structure of our siddur, prayerbook. G-d, much like a loving parent, gave us Torah, a system of laws and commandments, limits. That’s Ahavah Rabbah. And unending love. Then we are told we should love the Lord our G-d with all our heart, with all our soul, with all our everything. That’s the prayer we know as V’ahavata.

There is a catch. Rav Elazan ben Azariah taught in the Talmud about this season, “For sins between people and G-d, Yom Kippur atones, but between one another, Yom Kippur does not atone until one appeases his or her friend.” (Yoma 85b)

Love…

Love your neighbor…love the stranger…love your enemy. Say what? I thought, from the business world that the goal was to keep your friends close and your enemies closer. But that is not what we find, necessarily.

In today’s Torah portion, not the section we read today, we learn, that
“If you see the donkey of one who hates you lying helpless under its load, you shall refrain from leaving it to him, you shall surely release it with him.” (Exodus 23:5)

How many of you stopped on your way here to jumpstart a donkey? How many of you helped that ass of a stranger get back up on his feet?

Proverbs 24:17-20 expands this thought:

Do not rejoice when your enemy falls, And do not let your heart be glad when he stumbles; Or the LORD will see it and be displeased, And turn His anger away from him. Do not fret because of evildoers Or be envious of the wicked.”

We know this one…as we pour out a drop of wine for each of the 10 Plagues at the Passover seder, we learn the midrash: Why are you rejoicing, G-d cries? These are My creatures that are drowned.

If G-d can do weep, how can we not?

This is the season for trying to make up, to return, to repair. How many of you as part of your preparation for Rosh Hashanah are engaged in the debate about whom you will invite for holiday meals. How many of you remember being slighted when you were not invited to the first grade birthday party, or the middle school Bar or Bat Mitzvah or the wedding. You remember that feeling. Still. All these many years later.

So why would the Torah take the time to advise us to assist someone who we are at odds with? The key, according to our ancient rabbis, is found within in one important phrase: “help him.”

Nachmanides, the Ramban (1194-1270), notes that if you help another person, your enemy in particular, you may ultimately ” forget your enmity, and remember that he is your fellow.” Now we are back to this idea that we should love our neighbor, our fellow as ourselves. Today’s portion reads a lot like a recapitulation of the Holiness Code in Leviticus. We will be reminded to have just weights and measures, to pay our laborers on time, to be kind to the widow, the orphan, the stranger amongst us. We will be told to leave the corners of our field…just as we have done here at CKI.

But as my colleague, Rabbi Irwin Huberman points out, “Too often, when a crisis or disagreement occurs within a family or a circle of friends, bad feelings can be triggered, and — left unattended — can last a lifetime. This is particularly true during these fractured political times where lifelong friendships and family ties are often stretched, if not broken.”

The rabbis ask, debated, “Why did G-d allow the destruction of the Second Temple in Jerusalem.” The Talmud answers with a story of a wealthy man who lived in the 1^st Century in Jerusalem. He sends his servant to deliver an invitation to a party to his friend Kamsa. However, the servant delivers the invitation to Bar Kamsa, an enemy of the wealthy man. The host is furious at seeing Bar Kamsa at his party and orders him to leave. Bar Kamsa tries to make peace. He offers to pay for the food he eats, then for half of the expenses, then for the entire party. Each offer is rejected. All of this in front of the rabbis who sit passively. (Later Maimonides, the Rambam, will teach that if you ask forgiveness three times and are rejected, it is on the person rejecting, but that is a story for another time!) Bar Kamsa vows revenge for his humiliation against the rabbis who did not speak up and intervene to spare his embarrassment. Remember that embarrassment is a high sin in Judaism. If you embarrass someone in public you lose your place in the world to come. So Bar Kamas goes to the local Roman official to tell him that the Jewish community is disloyal to Rome. (That is a sermon for another time too!). Caesar agrees and destroys the Temple and all of Jerusalem. So the sages ask, “Why was the Temple destroyed?” Because of Sinat chinam, senseless, baseless hatred.

Rabbi Abraham Kook, the first chief rabbi of Israel taught that the anecdote to sinat chinam is ahavat chinam, baseless love. Lets think about this while we are arranging Rosh Hashanah dinner and who to invite, while we are searching for the white Torah covers, while we are practicing music and crafting sermons.

Shortly we will read the stories of Abraham our father. Abraham who kicked out Hagar and Ishmael. Abraham who was willing to sacrifice Isaac. What doesn’t appear in the Rosh Hashanah cycle, is that Abraham died alone. Only after his death did Isaac and Ishmael came back together. Life is short. Often too short. I relearned that lesson again this week. For many, too painful and too lonely.

Perhaps, then, what this morning’s portion has come to teach, is to open the gates wide. To build that temple and this synagogue without stint. That we need to be like G-d and take people back in love. This is the message of this season of teshuvah, of repair and return. Often it is up to us to take the first step.

Another Psalm echoes this message, with almost the same language of our verse in the haftarah, which Rabbi Menachem Creditor set beautifully to music. “Olam Chesed Yibaneh. I will build this world on love. And you must build this world from love. And if we build this world from love, then G-d will build this world from love.” (Psalm 89:3)

May this be a season of turning. Of repair and renewal. Of ahavah and chesed.

May it be so. May it always be so.

In memory of Ron Raglin:

My words at the funeral:

On Tuesday morning, The sun came up. The school buses rolled. Kids went to school. Teachers taught. Learning happened. Just like it was supposed to. But the world seemed a little dimmer in the bright sunlight.

In my tradition, our job, according to the Talmud, is to bury the dead and comfort the bereaved. That’s what we are trying to do today. But it is so, so hard. No one wanted to be here today.

Let us pray. (In my tradition, you can either sit or stand. Do what is comfortable for you!)

We are assembled here with our friends and Ron’s family in the darkness that has fallen upon us. We raise our voices together with the Source of Life, asking for comfort and strength. We need light when gloom darkens our lives. We need fortitude and courage when pain and loss assail us. May we find these in God. Let us find them, too, in loved ones and companions, who do God’s work by binding up the wounds of the stricken.

We mourn with you Tena, and Matthew and Marissa, with all who loved Ron, because quite simply Ron loved you.

First you cry
We are crying, Lord
We are weeping, Lord
We know You are crying too.
We miss our friend, our colleague, our teacher, our mentor,
Our husband, our father, our Papi, our brother, our family
Our lives will never be the same.
We know that You cry with us.
That You walk with us.
Help us, O Lord.
Help us to carry on
Hold our grief and our tears.
Wrap us in a big Ron bear hug.
Let us hear that big Ron laugh.
Then help us remember
Help us to be like Ron
To smile that wide Ron smile
To be compassionate
To be passionate
To live with integrity
To live with authenticity
To believe,
To really know deep in our souls
That every child matters
That every child can succeed
To care about every student
To care about every person
Because we are all created in Your image
Because
All means all.

To know that ours is not to finish the task, neither are we free to ignore it.
To share his vision, Martin Luther King’s vision
Of a world where all of G-d’s children,
Black and white,
Brown and Asian,
Jew and Gentile,
Protestant and Catholic,
Muslim and Hindu and even seekers
Unbeleivers, agnostics, atheists alike
One day,
All will be able to join hands and sing.
Free at last! Free at last! Thank G-d Almighty, we are free at last!”
But first, we cry!

Ron, you are free at last, walking with the Holy One of Blessing. Your job here on earth is finished, but ours is just beginning, continuing. Look over Well done, good and faithful servant. Well done.

El Maleh Rachamin, God, full of mercy and compassion, grant infinite rest, in Your sheltering Presence under the protecting shadow of Your wings among the holy and the pure to the soul of Ronald Raglin, who has gone to his eternal home. Merciful One, we ask that our loved one find perfect peace in Your eternal embrace, May his soul be bound up in the bond of life. May he rest in peace. And let us say, Amen.

The Kaddish is a special prayer in Judaism that often called mourners prayer. Because even when someone dies, still we praise G-d for life. Originally it was created to honor scholars, rabbis and teachers. Originally it was written in Aramaic, the language of day, the language that Jesus spoke, so that everyone could understand it. Here is Kaddish D’rabbanan, the Scholar’s Kaddish, in English, for Ron, for all of U-46 staff so that we all can understand:

For our teachers, and their students, and the students of the students,
We ask for peace and loving kindness.
And let us say, amen
And for those who study Torah, here and everywhere,
may they be blessed with all they need.
And let us say, amen.
Chorus: We ask for peace and loving kindness.
And let us say, amen (6x)

Lyrics by Debbie Friedman, z”l

At the rising sun and at its going down in with those early morning phone calls and late night text messages;
We remember him.
At the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter whether there is a snow day or not;
We remember him.
At the opening of the buds and in the rebirth of spring; with a long jump shot or at a Socratic Seminar
We remember him.
At the blueness of the skies and in the warmth of summer and a slightly but only slightly more relaxed administrator’s schedule;
We remember him.
At the rustling of the leaves and in the beauty of the autumn as the first school buses roll;
We remember him.
At the beginning of the year and when it ends;
We remember him.
As long as we live, he too will live, for he is now a part of us as We remember him.

When we are weary and in need of strength;
We remember him.
When we are lost and sick at heart;
We remember him.
When we have decisions that are difficult to make;
We remember him.
When we have joy we crave to share;
We remember him.
When we have achievements that are based on his;
We remember him.
For as long as we live, he too will live, for he is now a part of us as,
We remember him.

Based on a Reading from Gates of Repentance

My thoughts: (Not given)

Every now and then the phone rings and it is not what you think. That’s what happened a week ago when Tony Sanders called and told me that Ron Raglin, the assistant superintendent of schools died. It was shocking. It was painful. It did not seem real.

Ron was the first person outside of my congregation I heard from when I moved to Elgin 7 years ago. We started the same week. He wanted to make sure I knew that I was invited, expected to attend his U-46 Clergy Council. I wondered how a public school system could have such a committee but if we do and since we do, I knew wanted a seat at that table. It was never a question.

Ron and I would go on to do many things together through the years. Most notably coffee or lunch. Neither schedule was conducive. He always made time. He spoke at CKI for Martin Luther King, jr. Day one year. He and I served on the Martin Luther King Celebration committee together. We shared books we were reading. I gave “Leaving Microsoft to Change the World” I still have one of his on trauma informed care. We had long conversations about educational philosophy, social justice, and faith. Always faith. He was a devoted Christian and a man of deep faith. He was prone to earlier morning phone calls for a Biblical citation or late night text messages. I am not sure that man ever slept!

He was committed to equity and justice. That was his title when he arrived at U-46. I joked he had the title I always wanted. He believed he could make a difference. He believed in mentoring. He believed that trauma-informed care would help make up some of the differences. You can’t learn if you worry about where your next meal is coming from, or if your parents are fighting or you don’t have a place to lay your head.

He worked tirelessly to achieve the mission of U-46. “U-46 will be a great place for all students to learn, all teachers to teach, and all employees to work. All means all.”

I used that phrase, All means all, when I would be called upon to speak at school board meetings. Not often but on some important topics. How to celebrate African American History Month. Policy around transgender bathroom and locker usage. How to teach religion in public schools. It is important to the study of emergence of alphabets, It is necessary when talking about the history of Europe like the Protestant Reformation or the arrival of the Mayflower and the establishment of the 13 Colonies. Or wars in Northern Ireland between Protestants and Catholics or the evil that was the Holocaust.

We worked on issues of racism and anti-Semitism. We helped with a rally after Charlottesville and a vigil after the massacres at the Pulse Night Club and the Tree of Life Synagogue.

He was always present, often behind the scenes, working for justice and providing his deep data dives. He always had a kind word, a deep respect and a real love, a passion for every single person, because all means all. He understood that every single person was created in the image of the Divine. Every. Single. Person. And he would be sure to remind you of that. He knew that G-d loved him. That G-d loves each of you. Period. For him it was simple. For me, it was never simple. He held himself to very high standards and had high expectations for everyone around him. And yet, he was one of the most forgiving people I know.

He had a big heart and big smile and a big laugh. I will miss this gentle giant greatly. There has not been a day this week where I have woken up without a Ron story or a Ron song. While I am honored, deeply touched to have played my behind the scenes role this week, it is a fitting tribute to Ron. A black evangelical man of deep faith and a rabbi. A rabbi helping plan a funeral for this man, down to the praise music. My playlist and Ron’s were very different. But when I thought about music, I came up with several for me.

Long Road to Freedom which I learned at Girl Scout camp and it turns out to be Christian Gospel. Who knew? Probably Ron.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=txK5ZazkJBU

No More Tears in Heaven, Eric Clapton

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tPm2Fye3Eu4

Carry On Sweet Survivor by Peter Paul and Mary

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=daIyK_gG08E

I Believe from Spring Awakening

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SY1VLM2pTqY

And several versions of the Kaddish.

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

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BF2u7AFPPMo (At 21:19)

Tena came up with Blessings by Laura Story. It was perfect. I pray for blessings and peace.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XQan9L3yXjc

People wanted to know why? Why did G-d need Ron? Why did G-d call him home? That is not in my theology. But over and over again I was called upon this week to answer. This is what I said. Rabbi Harold Kushner wrote a book, “WHEN Bad Things Happen to Good People.” The title is not Why, it is When. What is up to us is how we respond. I choose to answer the call of G-d, “Where are you” with Hineini, Here I am, Lord. I will rededicate myself to the work that Ron and I were doing. Dedication in Hebrew has the same root as education. How appropriate for Ron. Also appropriate for a man who really understood love, I was moved to tears this weekend while leading services by Ahava Rabbah, the prayer that tells us that G-d loves us with an unending love. We know that love because like a good parent, G-d gave us Torah, a system of rules and limits. Something that Ron and I studied together. The prayer continues, to tell us that we that we should lilmod v’lilamed, we should learn and teach…both, learn and teach, two sides of one coin. That’s what Ron did. He learned and taught. And he made sure that every single child could. Every. Single. One. All means all.

“Just as Israel has kept the Sabbath, so has the Sabbath kept Israel.” Ahad Ha’am

What does that mean? That observing Shabbat has helped the Jewish people survive.

Who was Ahad Ha’am? He was an early Zionist and not especially religious or observant but he knew the power of Shabbat and its ability to allow people to regroup, renew, refresh that is so important to all of our survival. It is like the Midrash teaches:

“Moses saw that they had no rest, so he went to Pharaoh and said: ‘If one has a slave and he does not give him rest one day in the week, the slave will die. These are your slaves—if you do not give them one day a week, they will die.’ Said Pharaoh: ‘Go and do with them as you say.’ So Moses ordained for them the Shabbat day for rest.” (Shemot Rabbah 1:32)

But Shabbat is more than survival. There is an argument recorded in the Talmud between Caesar and Rabbi Joshua ben Chananya. He wanted to know why he should bother to give the Israelites a day off a week. Then he asked, “Why do Shabbat foods smell so good? Said he to him: We have a special spice, ‘Shabbat’ is its name . . .” (Talmud, Shabbat 119a)

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel in the mid-twentieth century called Shabbat a palace in time and a foretaste of the world to come.

And perhaps that is the place to start this sermon, which I offer in memory of Ron Raglin, assistant superintendent of U-46. Several weeks ago, there was a call for Chicago rabbis to work Labor Day into our sermons this weekend as Chicago Public Schools is in a heated contract negotiation. I sent the email to Tony Sanders, CEO of U-46 to tell him what I was planning to do. I had no idea how much time I would be spending with Tony this week. But this I am sure of, if Shabbat is a foretaste of the world to come, with a special spice, then Ron is enjoying the real thing. So for Ron…

This weekend we celebrate Labor Day. A national holiday for our workers. A chance to pause and reflect on the role of work and rest in our lives. A last burst of summer before people return the more rigorous schedules that after Labor Day brings. One more burger on the grill. One last vacation weekend. One last family reunion.

And yet…more and more people have to work over Labor Day. Remember to thank:

• Your grocery store clerk—if it isn’t a self-check out lane,
• Your hair dresser, mine is working today, Sunday and Monday, the boss might close at 5 instead of 7 so people can have a barbecue or a picnic.
• Your Barista
• Police, fire, hospital employees all have to work this weekend.
• I’ll remember to thank the grave diggers and the rest of the grounds crew, the sound crew and the janitors.

Some who work over a holiday will get time and a half. Others will see no increase in their pay. Some will trade Labor Day for Christmas or Thanksgiving. But the essential services we have come to depend on will continue to function right through Labor Day. As a police chaplain, I pray for an uneventful weekend, although I am not on call this weekend as a chaplain.

The roots of Labor Day go back to some very important events in our nation’s history. Ones that are even later than 1776 for those of you who think I only know colonial New England history. The roots, I knew, go to Lawrence, MA and the Bread and Roses Strike.

As a life long learner, I learned that there was a connection to Chicago:

The first mention of “Bread and Roses” appeared in the American Magazine in September of 1911. Helen Todd described a group of women from the Chicago Women’s Club, organizing an automobile campaign, remember those were new then, around the State of Illinois, to campaign for the right of women to vote. The women were Catherine McCulloch, an attorney, Anna Blount, a physician, Kate Hughes a minister (you better watch those clergy!) and Helen Todd, a state factory inspector, and Jennie Johnson, a singer.

Rose Scheiderman, a nice Jewish girl, worked tirelessly to improve wages, hours, and safety standard for American working women. Hearing echoes of Pirke Avot, “Ain Torah, Ain Kemach, without Torah no sustenance, no bread, Ain Kemach, Ain Torah, without bread no Torah.”

“What the woman who labors wants is the right to live, not simply exist – the right to life as the rich woman has the right to life, and the sun and music and art. You have nothing that the humblest worker has not a right to have also. The worker must have bread, but she must have roses, too. Help, you women of privilege, give her the ballot to fight with.” Rose Schneiderman, 1912.

Improved wages, safety and hours are the “bread,” the very basic human rights to which working women were entitled. But she also campaigned for “roses”: schools, recreational facilities, and professional networks for trade union women, because she believed that working women deserved much more than a grim subsistence. 

https://jwa.org/encyclopedia/article/schneiderman-rose

Another good Jewish boy wrote a poem, entitled “Bread and Roses” that was later set to music by John Denver. John Oppenheim was not only a poet but the principal of the Hebrew High School in Minneapolis.

Bread and Roses
As we come marching, marching, in the beauty of the day,
A million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill-lofts gray
Are touched with all the radiance that a sudden sun discloses,
For the people hear us singing, “Bread and Roses, Bread and Roses.”

As we come marching, marching, we battle, too, for men—
For they are women’s children and we mother them again.
Our days shall not be sweated from birth until life closes—
Hearts starve as well as bodies: Give us Bread, but give us Roses.

As we come marching, marching, unnumbered women dead
Go crying through our singing their ancient song of Bread;
Small art and love and beauty their trudging spirits knew—
Yes, it is Bread we fight for—but we fight for Roses, too.

As we come marching, marching, we bring the Greater Days—
The rising of the women means the rising of the race.
No more the drudge and idler—ten that toil where one reposes—
But a sharing of life’s glories: Bread and Roses, Bread and Roses.

— James Oppenheim, 1911.^[40]

After the tragedy of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire, more Jews led the labor organizing effort. It led to legislation mandating factory safety standards and the 40 hour workweek with accepted and legislated breaks. The birth of the International Ladies’ Garment Workers’ Union gave rise to other unions, including the Teamsters, which at one point saved Simon’s job at UPS.

There are more Chicago connections. Emma Goldman, who amongst other things could be described as our own Medina’s stepmother, championed the rights of workers. Rabbi Emil Hirsch whose picture hangs in our social hall and rode the stage coach out from Chicago to officiate at various Jewish functions and Memorial Day, championed the rights of workers and organized labor, even risking his job at Chicago Sinai to preach on this topic when well-heeled business owners sitting in the front row were exhorted to treat their own workers better.

How does that relate to this week’s Torah portion?

This week we read of an extension to Shabbat observance. A radical way to organize society. A release or a cancelling of debts and freedom for slaves. Every seven years. In other places we are told to rest the land as well. This is the Shmita year that the Torah describes. During shmita, the seventh year, debts are cancelled, slaves are released and the land lays fallow. No plowing, planting, pruning or harvesting.

During the time that organized labor was growing in America, Shabbat observance was decreasing. It was a spiritual practice that was slipping, a steep price to pay. Shabbat was a regular work day. It is part of the reason that Chicago Sinai’s main worship was on Sunday morning, not Shabbat. “Blue laws” abounded, forbidding the opening of businesses on Sunday and in some places even mowing grass. The vestiges here in Illinois include not being able to sell liquor Sunday morning. Many Jews felt that they could not earn a living in America without working on Shabbat; others saw it as a hindrance to the dream of assimilation within, and acceptance by, American society. The Jew’s thousands-year-long tenacious hold on the Shabbat was slipping. In some congregations Shabbat clubs began to keep the Sabbath alive.

So as we approach this Labor Day, think about the role, the real leadership Jews played in fighting for worker’s rights. For ensuring that you could choose to sit in that pew today. That you have the freedom to do so. That you could enjoy Shabbat as a palace in time and a foretaste of the world to come. For me, these Jewish values translate into working for equity and justice as Ron Raglin has always fought for, equal pay for women, workers rights and a safe working environment. And a living wage, however that get defined.

And as I said at the beginning. To not forget to thank the people who work this weekend.