Shin-Mem-Ayin—Listen. Hear. The opening word of today’s Torah portion. Moses listens to Jethro, the priest of the Midianites and his father-in-law. “You can’t do this job alone,” Jethro tells him. And Moses hears him. Jethro explains it is better to delegate, to find other people to help him. And Moses did exactly that. He heard Jethro and he listened.

In the very next chapter, the people of Israel are gathered round the mountain. Something is about to happen. G-d tells Moses to tell the people “If you will obey me faithfully and keep My covenant…” but obey has the same root, shin-mem-ayin. If you listen to me and do what I say…then you will be a treasured people and a holy nation.

G-d continued…”I will come to you in a thick cloud, in order that the people may HEAR when I speak with you…” Then Moses reported the people’s words to G-d. “All that the Lord has spoken, we will do.”

“We will do and we will hear.” Seems out of order. How do they know what to do if they haven’t heard the commandments yet? Sometimes you just know what the right thing to do is. You have already heard the rules—from your mother or your father or some internal sense. You know right from wrong. (That’s what our littlest member said!)

Let’s try something. Sitting in a circle I am going to whisper something in that littlest member’s ear. She’s about 6. She whispered “I am the Lord your G-d and I love you.” It went all around the circle and came back to me correctly. It was an amazing game of “Telephone.” Seems silly, but it was effective.

Moses, however, didn’t get the game of telephone right. He heard G-d tell him to tell the people how to prepare: “Go to the people and warn them to stay pure today and tomorrow. Let them wash their clothes. Let them be ready for the third day; for on the third day the LORD will come down, in the sight of all the people, on Mount Sinai. You shall set bounds for the people round about, saying, ‘Beware of going up the mountain or touching the border of it. Whoever touches the mountain shall be put to death: no hand shall touch him, but he shall be either stoned or shot; beast or man, he shall not live.’ When the ram’s horn sounds a long blast, they may go up on the mountain.”

Moses came down from the mountain to the people and warned the people to stay pure, and they washed their clothes. And he said to the people, “Be ready for the third day: do not go near a woman.” “Do not go near a woman.” Where did that come from? Moses seems to have added that.

“All the people witnessed the thunder and the lightening, the blare of the shofar and the mountain smoking and when the people saw it, they fell back and stood at a distance. You speak to us, they said to Moses and we will obey. But let not G-d speak to us, lest we die. Moses answered the people, Be not afraid.”

“Shmati.” I have heard. Some people, particularly in Jewish Renewal circles to say Shmati when someone has finished speaking.

From the US State Department website, we learn:

“The most common problem in communication is not listening! A Chinese symbol for “To Listen” is shown below.  It is wise beyond the art. The left side of the symbol represents an ear. The right side represents the individual- you. The eyes and undivided attention are next and finally there is the heart. This symbol tells us that to listen we must use both ears, watch and maintain eye contact, give undivided attention, and finally be empathetic.  In other words we must engage in active listening!”

https://www.state.gov/m/a/os/65759.htm

People reminded me that you can listen without hearing. A story was told of someone who is a communication professional who told an employee something. “Oh, that makes sense. How come you haven’t told us before?” Someone else responded, “He’s told you five times.” The communications professional added that people only hear when they are ready to hear. (This was a holy moment during the service!)

You also need to be quiet. And not jump ahead…something I am guilty of sometimes.

When G-d gave the Torah, no bird sang, no fowl flew, no ox lowered, the sea ceased to roar, and all creatures were silent. The entire world was hushed into stillness and the Voice spoke forth, “I am the Lord…” (Midrash)

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

Continuing with Rabbi Kushner: 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.”

And while we sing of G-d’s powerful voice in the Psalms—both Friday night and when putting the Torah way, there is another idea of G-d’s voice. When Dreamworks was putting together Prince of Egypt, the animated movie about Moses and the 10 Commandments, they employed a group of Jewish, Christian and Muslim leaders to advise. They decided two important things. The first was to try to make G-d not be gendered. The second was that the voice of G-d would be played by the same one who played Moses.

https://www.patheos.com/blogs/filmchat/2018/12/20-things-about-the-prince-of-egypt-which-turns-20-today.html

This fits with another idea we find from Elijah:

Come out, G-d called, “and stand on the mountain before the Eternal.” And lo, the Eternal passed by. There was a great and mighty wind, splitting mountains and shattering rocks by the power of the Eternal; but the Eternal was not in the wind. After the wind—a mighty earthquake, but the Eternal was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake—fire; but the Eternal was not in the fire. And after the fire—a still, small voice. 1 Kings 19:11-12

The still small voice. The conscious. Jimminy Cricket.

Let’s try one more thing. Let’s practice active listening. So we will be prepared to hear the 10 Commandments. So we will be better friends and co-workers, spouses and parents. It is a way we live out, “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

1. Pay attention
2. Withhold judgment
3. Reflect
4. Clarify
5. Summarize
6. Share

No 1: Pay attention. One goal of active listening is to set a comfortable tone and allow time and opportunity for the other person to think and speak. Pay attention to your frame of mind as well as your body language. Be focused on the moment and operate from a place of respect. (I’ll add: maintain eye contact. Don’t look at your phone. Don’t become distracted.)

No. 2: Withhold judgment. Active listening requires an open mind. As a listener and a leader, you need to be open to new ideas, new perspectives and new possibilities. Even when good listeners have strong views, they suspend judgment, hold their criticism and avoid arguing or selling their point right away. (I’ll add: Don’t jump ahead. Don’t formulate your response while the person is still speaking. Don’t jump in with too many of your own stories. Don’t think you know where the conversation is going.)

No. 3: Reflect. Learn to mirror the other person’s information and emotions by paraphrasing key points. Don’t assume that you understand correctly or that the other person knows you’ve heard him. Reflecting is a way to indicate that you and your counterpart are on the same page. (I’ll add: reflecting is a way to show that you are paying attention and have heard them.)

No. 4: Clarify. Don’t be shy to ask questions about any issue that is ambiguous or unclear. Open-ended, clarifying and probing questions are important tools. They draw people out and encourage them to expand their ideas, while inviting reflection and thoughtful response. (I’ll add: try these: “What you are saying is? Did you say this? I think I heard this…)

No. 5: Summarize. Restating key themes as the conversation proceeds confirms and solidifies your grasp of the other person’s point of view. It also helps both parties to be clear on mutual responsibilities and follow-up. Briefly summarize what you have understood as you listened, and ask the other person to do the same. (I’ll add this: So what you are saying is? Can you say that again? I want to make sure I heard you correctly.)

No. 6: Share. Active listening is first about understanding the other person, then about being understood. As you gain a clearer understanding of the other person’s perspective, you can then introduce your ideas, feelings and suggestions. You might talk about a similar experience you had or share an idea that was triggered by a comment made previously in the conversation.

https://www.ccl.org/multimedia/podcast/the-big-6-an-active-listening-skill-set/

Sh’mati!

Last week we talked about puzzles, and New Year’s and figuring out the puzzle of our lives. Making meaning. This week’s portion also has a puzzle. It is one of the most complicated portions in the entire Torah.

So now that we are in the first week of the New Year, how are those New Year’s resolutions going? Not so well? Not surprised. I prefer making New Year’s goals, taking the time to daydream about what I want to do with this clean slate stretching out before me.

And this week’s portion actually will help with that. Here’s the puzzle. G-d gave us, all of us free will or free choice. But then in this week’s portion G-d seems to say that G-d hardened Pharaoh’s heart. How is that possible if G-d gave us free will? Isn’t that taking away the free will?

Let’s look a little more carefully. There are Ten Plagues and ten responses of Pharaoh’s heart.

The Ten Plagues and Pharaoh’s Heart

1. Blood: Pharaoh’s heart “became hard” (7:22)
2. Frogs: Pharaoh “hardened his own heart” (8:15)
3. Gnats: Pharaoh’s heart “was hard” (8:19)
4. Flies: “Pharaoh hardened his own heart” (8:32)
5. Livestock die: Pharaoh’s heart “was hard” (9:7)
6. Boils: “The Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart” (9:12)
7. Hail: Pharaoh “hardened his own heart” (9:34)
8. Locusts: God announces that he has “hardened Pharaoh’s heart” (10:1,10:20)
9. Darkness: God “hardened Pharaoh’s heart” (10:27)
10. Death of the firstborn: God “hardened Pharaoh’s heart” (11:10)

So not until the sixth plague, where we start reading today, does G-d harden Pharaoh’s heart. I have puzzled over this for years. I finally understood it in a Bible discussion group that Simon and I were a part of for years in Boston. A nun explained it. It is about habits. Pharaoh kept making the wrong decision. He hardened his own heart. Over and over again. It became a habit.

The classical Jewish sources tell us something similar. Exodus Rabbah, the midrash, tell us the first time the Torah tells us G-d hardens Pharaoh’s heart is Exodus 9:12. “Since God sent [the opportunity for repentance and doing the right thing] five times to him and he sent no notice, God then said, ‘You have stiffened your neck and hardened your heart on your own…. So it was that the heart of Pharaoh did not receive the words of God.’”

Five times before Pharaoh hardens his own heart. Pharaoh turned away from Moses’s call and demand. He didn’t hear the suffering of the Israelites and it would seem he didn’t care. Five times, as Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg says, “he made his own heart less and less supple and soft.” Pharaoh sealed his own fate, for himself and his relationship to G-d.

I am uncomfortable with this. I thought the gates of repentance are always open. I thought the Dutch Reformed Calvinists were the ones who believed in pre-destination, but here it is right in our own sacred text. Right in our own portion of today.

Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto, an 18^th century Italian commentator said this (remember, this is before Freud!) “Our external actions have an effect on our inner feelings. We have more control over our actions than our emotions, and if we utilize what is in our power, we will eventually acquire what is not as much in our power.” https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/who-really-hardened-pharaohs-heart/

So what does this have to do with New Year’s. Each of us has the potential to impact our own lives. To make incremental decisions that affect our lives, that affect our hearts. Our tradition can help, too.

There are three songs that we sing routinely that deal with hearts. The first, V’tahair Libeinu is what I sing on the elliptical. “Cleanse our hearts that we might serve You in truth.” If I do enough miles on the elliptical, maybe G-d will not harden my arteries. If I keep making the right choices, I will be healthier, mentally, spiritually and physically.

The Cleveland Clinic recommends this steps for heart healthy living:

1. Eat healthy fats
2. Practice good dental hygiene, especially flossing every day
3. Get enough sleep
4. Don’t sit for too long
5. Avoid second hand smoke. LIKE THE PLAGUE!

https://health.clevelandclinic.org/5-things-to-do-daily-to-keep-your-heart-healthy/

LIKE THE PLAGUE! How appropriate for today. And if you are wondering what you should eat…think about this list from the Mayo Clinic:

1. Portion size
2. Eat more fruits and vegetables
3. Select whole grains
4. Limit unhealthy fats
5. Choose low-fat protein sources
6. Reduce the sodium in your food
7. Plan ahead: Create daily menus
8. Allow yourself an occasional treat

https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/heart-disease/in-depth/heart-healthy-diet/art-20047702

Again, it is about building healthy habits. Learning to become the opposite of Pharaoh

But there is one more thing you maybe trying to eliminate in the New Year to be more heart healthy. That is stress. Recently I saw a communication from my colleague, Rabbi Shmuly Yankovitch who is a modern Orthodox rabbi in Phoenix with a similar bent towards social justice to my own. He wrote:

“Receiving constant phone calls from the Dept. of Child Services every day (even late at night!) with tragic cases of abused & neglected children that desperately need to be placed in loving homes. Sweet innocent children with nowhere to go.

After each call, I feel sick.

The Zohar, on this week’s parsha, says Moshe was sick. This is why he didn’t have proper speech. He had a voice but no speech. His speech was in exile and unable to articulate freedom. It was an existential problem. Sometimes we can talk about the brutalities we witness but we can’t really explain the depths of our understanding, the depths of the pain associated with seeing suffering and not being able to alleviate it, the paralysis of empathy, silenced by the shock of an open heart. The limitations of human language. Knowing G-d is with you but having no imaginable path toward freedom, toward a promised land. A voice of sweet freedom but speech stuck in brutal exile.”

How horrible for those children. How horrible for Shmuly. How horrible for Moshe. Moshe was sick. Maybe he was experiencing burn-out or compassion fatigue. Maybe it was too much stress. Later Moses, through his father-in-law Jethro will learn to delegate. It doesn’t come easily to him. Or to me or to some of you. Just say no. But here is another list:

• Identify stressors
• Eliminate unnecessary commitments
• Procrastination
• Disorganization
• Late
• Controlling
• Multitasking
• Eliminate energy drains
• Avoid difficult people
• Simplify life
• Unschedule
• Slow down
• Help others
• Relax throughout the day
• Quit work
• Simplify your to-do list
• Exercise
• Eat healthy
• Be grateful
• Zen-like environment

https://zenhabits.net/20-ways-to-eliminate-stress-from-your-life/

May this be a Shabbat, a year where we learn to be heart healthy, yet full of courage and compassion.

Last night we talked about the Names of G-d. In this week’s Torah portion we learn the ineffable, unpronounceable name of G-d. G-d spoke this name out of a burning bush, a bush that was burning and was not consumed. An ordinary place, an ordinary bush, but something was special, something was unique. Moses took off his shoes. He was standing on holy ground.

Last night we read the book, In G-d’s Name, by Rabbi Sandy Sasso where together with the beautiful illustrations, she explains that there are many names for G-d. She explores names like Source of Life, Creator of Light, Maker of Peace, Sheppard, Mother, Father, Rock, Friend, Comforter, Healer. All are names for G-d. There are lots of names for G-d.

Last night when I got home, I opened up our annual New Year’s puzzle to work on. It is fun way to spend time with out of town guests. It is relaxing and it allows us to take a breath. Shabbat is a breath. The pause that refreshes. So take a deep breath. Another one. Another one.

This week we start reading a new book of the Torah. We begin reading Sh’mot, Names, in English it is called Exodus because it tells how the Israelites were freed from Egyptian bondage.

These words from my colleague and dear friend, Rabbi Mike Rothbaum, really resonated with me this week:

“After Moses tells the Israelites about their shiny new God-name, the Torah tells us, Lo sham’u. The Israelites “didn’t listen.” They couldn’t listen. Moses teaches a Divine Name made up of vowels, of breathing sounds. But, according to the Torah, the Israelites are prevented from listening by kotzer ruach – “shortness of breath.” Or, another translation: “crushed spirit.” The word ruach can mean “breath.” Or “spirit.” A person who suffers distress or oppression is short of breath and short of spirit. She isn’t able to breathe. The Israelites can’t hear because they can’t breathe.

Later they are told to Listen. We know this one. Sh’ma Yisrael. Listen Israel, The Lord (That same YHVH that we learn about this week, the same name that Moses is given at the Burning Bush), Our G-d, the Lord is One. And only one. Unique. Even though G-d has many different names. Still the same One G-d.

The same G-d who promised the land of Israel to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob as part of the covenant. The same G-d who keeps that covenant even now.

So take that breath again. Today we are going to focus on breath. This Shabbat, this weekend is a breath. A pause to re-evaluate where we are and where we are going. A pause that may help us find meaning. Help us find balance.

In that quiet. In that space, that reset button, it may be possible to hear. What do you hear?

Is it possible to hear G-d calling? This is holy ground. Take off your shoes. Breathe in the Divine. Exhale. Breathe in again. Really feel it in your kishkes. Breathe again.

What is G-d calling? How do you answer?

Each of us has a name…earlier this week I read the Zelda poem. Each of us is given a name. By our parents, sometimes by our classmates, sometimes we are given a nickname. Sometimes we gain a new name when we marry, or when we achieve a new title. Sometimes we earn the name Mom or Dad. Or Gramps, Grandfather, Zayde. Sometimes we have a Hebrew name. Sometimes we have a name in another language.

Moses answered his calling with this simple word. Hineini. Here am I. How do we answer Hineini with our lives?

Our job is not to be Moses. That has already been done and the text is clear. There arose not a prophet like Moses. Only Moses was Moses.

The story is told of Reb Zusia on his death bed. He was crying and his disciples could nto figure out why. He said that question he would be asked in heaven was not ‘Why are you not Moses but why are you not Zusia.’

Each of us has a unique role, a unique calling. Finding our own authentic selves is why we are here. It is my belief that Judaism can help us find our own authentic selves and that is the puzzle that we are really trying to solve.

Another question that might be asked in heaven is “Have you seen My Alps?” G-d has created a beautiful, precious world with amazing things to appreciate. G-d does not want us to deny ourselves pleasure. We are not an ascetic people. But sometimes we get the balance out of whack.

Dr. Ron Wolfson in his book The Seven Questions You’re Asked in Heaven, identifies these questions:

• Were you honest?
• Did you leave a legacy?
• Did you set aside time to study?
• Did you have hope?
• Did you get your priorities straight? (that’s the balance question)
• Did you enjoy this world (that’s the Alps question)
• Were you the best you could be? (That’s the Zusia question)

So today, to celebrate New Year’s and this reset button, I am going to give you a Magan David. A Star of David, a shield, for you to create your own balance, for you to figure out your own unique call. This is not about making New Year’s Resolutions, or even goals.

What would you put in the center? G-d? Family? Health? The word Hineini?

Then you have six points to surround the outside with.

Here is a list of puzzle pieces prepared by Linda Sonin, our partner at the Chicago Bureau of Jewish Education. These are some of the core values of Judaism. She actually asks the question, “How will you piece together your most meaningful life?” Would you add something from this list? Is there something missing from the list?

Maybe you can’t pick just six. That’s OK. They are all valid.

If you think about the star, they are two interlocking triangles. I’ve played with this puzzle for years. Perhaps G-d goes in the center, with Torah or learning, Israel or community, Tikkun Olam in triangle and family, job, self in the other one. I’ve never been sure that I have the balance right.

Family is interesting because according the most recent Pew Study, most Americans derive the most amount of meaning from their families.

Job? But what job is right for you? Is it a career or vocation or just a way to pay the bills. I love this book, Being G-d’s Partner by Rabbi Jeffrey Salkin who also wrote putting G-d on the Guest List. He uncovers the hidden link between spirituality and work. I describe it as What Color is Your Parachute for Jews. And he begins with a story of watching the movers pack up his house—and the care and concern they took. It was spiritual. I loved Danielle Lindow’s line this week that she learned from her Zayde. “No job is beneath a Lindow.” I thought about that as I was putting down salt on the parking lot this morning. I won’t ask any of you to do jobs at the synagogue that I am not prepared to do myself.

So take this home and play with this puzzle. It is possible to do it over again. Nothing is carved in stone but it is useful tool as we approach this new year.

It is not a craft project per se, so take another deep breath. Breath in G-d. Breath out stress. Know that you are standing on holy ground, wrestling with the Divine and finding meaning. Happy New Year

The list:

• Appreciation of beauty
• Gratitude
• Love of learning
• Perspective
• Wisdom
• Curiosity
• Creativity
• Judgment
• Fairness
• Justice
• Leadership
• Teamwork
• Perseverance
• Bravery
• Courage
• Resilience
• Honesty
• Contentment
• Prudence
• Temperance
• Forgiveness
• Humility
• Kindness
• Social intelligence
• Humanity
• Love
• Humor
• Hope
• Spirituality
• Faithfulness

Today’s Torah portion continues the cycle of Joseph. Joseph who was sold into slavery by his brothers. Joseph who worked for Potipher and was accused of sexual improprieties and was thrown in jail.

This is Shabbat Chanukah, the darkest Shabbat of the year. But today, this sixth day of Chanukah is also Rosh Hodesh Tevet, the light is starting to return and that brings us hope. Rabbi Kaya Stern Kaufman points out that “the rabbis created this festival of light to answer our yearning for light and warmth…we are reminded that the light is returning, that the light, in fact, always returns. We nurture an attitude of trust in the returning light even when there is an abundance of apparent darkness.”

For her, this is a holiday about trust. She points out that there is no Havdalah, no separation between Chanukah and the rest of the year because light and trust are always available to us.

But what if you were like Joseph and thrown in jail. How would you find the light? How would you learn to trust? You might remember this from Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat:

Close every door to me,
Hide all the world from me
Bar all the windows
And shut out the light

Do what you want with me,
Hate me and laugh at me
Darken my daytime
And torture my night

If my life were important I
Would ask will I live or die
But I know the answers lie
Far from this world

Close every door to me,
Keep those I love from me
Children of Israel
Are never alone

For I know I shall find
My own peace of mind
For I have been promised
A land of my own

Joseph seemed to trust. To trust in his destiny, that somehow, even while in jail, he would rise above, he would be rescued, he would find the light.

This week, the New York Times published an op ed about the Hypocrisy of Hanukah, this is a holiday about rights, about religious freedom and our ability to celebrate this season as Jews. I don’t think it has to be so. t is ironic that a holiday that commemorates fighting against assimilation, has become the most assimilated of holidays; I don’t think that is hypocrisy. That is a discussion for another day.

That story of s small band of people who had hope, and the small vial of oil that lasted for eight days and restored the light—brings us hope today. The Maccabees trusted in their spiritual mission so they persisted and were victorious. The real miracle of Chanukah is that we are still here 2000 years later. Still discussing it. Still arguing about it. Still celebrating.

The word Chanukah itself means dedication. We are commanded to be a holy people, a light to the nations. And so we spread that light. That’s Torah. That’s why we are rededicating our sacred scroll tomorrow, during Chanukah, so we can live out our vision of lifelong learning and meaningful observance. Black fire on white fire.

As the English version of Mi Yimalel says “In every age, a hero or sage came to our aid.” That brings us hope—and trust—bitachon. In this age, people are concerned about the rising anti-semitism. The commandment for Chanukah is to publicize the miracle—whether that is the victory of the Maccabees or the light that increases. We place that Chanukiah at the entrance of our doorways, much like a mezuzah. And they guard our coming in and our going out. But there is a clause that says, except in times of danger. Many have argued with me this week that they were afraid—to wear their leggings in public, to put a Chanukah decoration on their door, to identify as Jews. I even had several conversations about wearing my kippah.

And yet…

I can’t live in that place of fear. I have to have hope. And trust. Alan Morinis, Rabbi Kaufman reminds us, “is that bitachon gives us the capacity to act fearlessly. A heart cannot hold both fear and trust at the same time. Joseph was able to learn bitachon. It is part of his legacy, despite his harsh circumstances from exile from his family, false accusations, imprisonment.”

This is Human Rights Shabbat so sponsored by Truah, Rabbis for Human Rights, which does a lot of the social justice work nationally that I engage in locally. I am a proud member of Truah.

One of their campaigns is around Mass Incarceration. It is shocking, and Sarah just read this statistic to me this week again, one out of two Americans have been incarcerated. Currently 1 out of 100 Americans are incarcerated.

Truah’s campaign around mass incarceration is about :

• Advocating for an end to police practices that result in disproportionate stops, arrests, and deaths of people of color.
• • This is why I serve on the task force with the police department and other clergy on racism and policing.
• Organizing rabbis and their communities to protest police violence and to demand full investigations in cases of killings by police officers.
  • This is why I have been working quietly behind the scenes on the city’s response to the officer-involved shooting death of Decynthia Clements back in March. Just this week the clergy delivered a formal letter to the police chief asking that the lieutenant not be returned to active duty. I chose not to sign that letter although Rabbi Kohn did, because of my unique role as chaplain and community leader. I did, however, write my own letter, praising the department for their work with the Jewish community—and also explaining why because of safety concerns and trust concerns, he should not return. The letter—and the jelly donuts—were well received and I received a thank you text message from the chief shortly after.
• Advocating for more just sentencing policies.
  • And consistent ones. Long before I arrived in Elgin.
• Organizing to end prolonged solitary confinement, which international law experts have classified as torture.
• Helping Jewish communities to volunteer with incarcerated individuals and their families, employ the formerly incarcerated, and engage in local campaigns to change state criminal justice laws.
  • Do you know that we have one member who is in jail—at Elgin Mental Health. And at least two members who were convicted of felonies who have spent time in jail? We need congregants who are willing to go to jail—with me or by yourselves to visit, when needed.
• Educating the Jewish community about why our current system of mass incarceration benefits none of us.

Much like an episode in Orange is the New Black, one day the Kane County Jail called. They were being swamped with people requesting kosher meals and they were desparate to save money on that added expense. I went out to the jail and looked at how they were service kosher food and saved them plenty. Cheerios, for instance, is kosher, whether it comes from the Cheerio box that they serve all inmates from or whether it comes pre-packaged for specifically kosher meals. Now if I can just get them to save on Styrofoam. And they were spending a fortune on Kosher Meat. None of these inmates were Jewish per se…but had heard that kosher food was better, after all, we answer to a higher authority.

Now Rabbi Maralee Gordon has a slightly different story from the McHenry County Jail. McHenry County is the closest detention facility to O’Hare so people seeking asylum who fly through O’hare are often taken there. Recently she told her story on the T’ruah list serve. So I asked her to come and tell it here this morning. And she brings with us Fair Trade chocolate. How perfect for Shabbat Chanukah where we read about Joseph in jail—no fair trade chocolate I am sure and Human Rights Shabbat. Because after all, in Connecticut I once saw a billboard that said, “Chocolate drizzle is a right.” Not really, but a real sign!

“As part of the Interfaith Committee for Detained Immigrants, I visit weekly with immigrants detained by ICE at the local county jail . About a year and a half ago, the Lieutenant in charge of the jail asked if I would like to teach a class on Judaism, as one of the immigrants had requested it. Ever since, this has been a highlight of my week. Last year I was away for Chanukah, but today we had a Chanukah party during class. The eleven attending today were originally from Nigeria, Belarus, Ramallah, Venezuela, Ghana, Mexico, Ethiopia, Jamaica and Mongolia. Some are/were Muslim, some Christian, and three have strong ties to Judaism.

After we ate latkes with sour cream, salsa and/or applesauce, and Israeli candy bars, we talked about the Maccabees, the seven branched menorah in the Temple and nine-branched chanukiah, light during dark times, and sang some Chanukah songs. We got ready to play dreidel with Truah Fair Trade chocolate coins accompanied by discussion about the ethics of gambling (they brought it up, not me).

J looked at the coins and said, “Hey, it says Ghana on the coins – I’m from Ghana!” He knew that Ghana produces chocolate, and I explained that this was fair trade chocolate from Ghana, only then realizing myself why the coins had “Ghana” imprinted on them.

The “icing on the cake” was when C, from Venezuela, wanted to share a different melody for the Sh’ma than the one we usually use. It was Debbie Friedman’s Sh’ma! He said he loves all her music. Another astounding afternoon at the jail!”

Light banishes darkness. Finding light even in the darkest of places, like the Kane County or McHenry County Jail. And chocolate. Fair Trade. Because no one should be a slave. Not Joseph. Not the Israelites. Not those in Ghana. Or tomato workers in this country. And the fact that we are discussing this based on Torah values. That is the real miracle of Chanukah.

Anyone ever had issues with their in-laws? Dread the Thanksgiving dinner discussions? Imagine being Jacob. You worked for Rachel for seven years. You were tricked and received Leah. You worked for another seven years and finally got the girl. Then you worked for six years for your flocks. Imagine now wanting to leave.

Imagine that dinner discussion. What would you say to your father-in-law? To your wives? To your children?

Telling your wives that their father cheated you, that G-d has taken away their father’s livestock and given it to you, probably violates every polite dinner conversation.

Fast forward, it is now 2018. Your family is gathering for Thanksgiving. All of the women’s magazines will tell you what you should talk about. And what you shouldn’t. No religion, no politics. No complaints about your vegan niece. No comments about how much food Aunt Suzy piles on her plate. No discussion of why is someone majoring in English. Or not yet dating. Or dating the wrong person. Or not married. Or not yet pregnant.

So how can we have a positive conversation in our politically diverse, culturally diverse families? How can we have meaningful, deep conversations without being rude?

Suggestions included talking about a favorite trip this year, how driver’s ed is going, ways that we can give back, what was most meaningful in the year.

I pulled some of these suggestions:

• What are you grateful for this holiday season?
  How can you pay it forward?
• What is your favorite part of Thanksgiving Day?
  What is your favorite family memory?
  If you could share Thanksgiving with one person in history, who would it be and why?
• What is your most embarrassing Thanksgiving moment?
• What is one thing you want/hope for this season?
• Where would you like to be next year at this time?

Edited from https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/0B5D2BUR6aFFzUWlpbzhhQnRzMkU?usp=drive_open

(And if you go to the site, they are on pretty fall leaves that you can print out on any color fall paper and then decorate your table with them!)

So it seems there are plenty of things to talk about without getting into a huge debate. But if there is some sparring—maybe that is OK. Next week we talk about Jacob wrestling with an angel, or a messenger, or a man—or maybe himself. His name is changed to Israel, whi ch means G-dwrestler. So go ahead and discuss. Argue. Debate. But do it civilly.

Judaism has much to say about how to have a discussion. How to speak. The Chofetz Chayim, (1839-1933) wrote several books on the power of speech, including “Guard your tongue” about the dangers of gossip and “lashon ha’ra, evil speech”. They can be dispelled to the ten rules below.

The Buddists have another way of simplifying whether you should say something. Think before you speak.

T—Is it true?

H—Is it helpful?

I—Is it inspiring?

N—Is it necessary?

K—is it kind?

Or is in necessary, is it kind, it is true. If it is not all three, don’t say it!

May all your dinner discussions this Thanksgiving sparkle!

A woman of valor, who can find? For her price is far above rubies.
She looks well to the ways of her household, and eats not the bread of idleness.
She gives food to her household and a portion to her workers.
She stretches out her hands to the poor, and she reaches out her hands to the needy.
She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the law of kindness is on her tongue.
Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come.
Her children rise up and call her blessed, her husband also, and he praises her saying,“Many daughters have done valiantly but you exceed them all.”
Grace is deceitful and beauty is vain, but a woman who reveres the Lord, she shall be praised.
Give her the fruit of her hands, and let her works praise her in the gates.
Proverbs 31

And the years of the life of Sarah were 100 years and 20 years and 7 years. And Sarah died. (Genesis 23:1)

That is how this morning’s Torah portion starts.

We are then told that Abraham came from Beer Sheva to Kiryat Arba, now Hebron, to eulogize her. I had planned to talk about this before the tragic events of last week. To be clear, Shabbat interrupts the public mourning, but this has been a week of mourning. So for me—in the middle of a class prayer—prayer seems to be an act of defiance and courage. We are here. We are still here. And with the numbers of people who have reached out to us this week, me personally and to the congregation, I have hope too.

So here we are today, talking about a eulogy, after a week of mourning. I can imagine that these very words were said over and over again in Pittsburgh this week.

There are actually two deaths in this chapter. At the very end of the portion, Abraham also dies. And again, we see people coming together to mourn. Isaac and Ishmael both of whom had near death experiences because of their father, came back together again to bury him. It is a model we have seen play out all across our country this week.

We started this conversation last night. A woman of valor. I read this at many funerals and memorial services. It is a picture of the ideal Jewish woman. We did not read it at my mother’s funeral—whose yahrzeit we commemorate this weekend. She felt it didn’t fit her feminism. I always disagreed.

A woman of valor represents a strong woman, a woman of courage. A woman like my mom—who my cousin described her as one of the first women libbers, who had a college degree and worked as a research scientist on diabetes. A woman who was on the front lines of civil rights. Who ran for political office (and lost) in Evanston. Who raised two children. Took care of her husband. Who was a Girl Scout leader. Who bought and sold property. Who owned her own business. Who ate not the bread of idleness.

But these same words, whether you see them as feminist or not, while in officially in Proverbs, are the very words according to the midrash, that Abraham used to eulogize Sarah. (Midrash Tanchuma, Chayei Sarah 4)

Let’s think about it. She had courage, valor, when she left her household and traveled with Abraham to the land that G-d would show them. She looked well to the ways of her household and gave a portion of food to her workers, to her maidens. She raced to feed her guests. She laughed at the time to come when she was promised a child.

The rabbis in the midrash teach this strange linguistic construction at the beginning of our chapter. She was 100 years and 20 years and 7 years. Why repeat the and years? No English teacher with a red pen would let students do that! Since we are taught there are no extra words in the Torah they must come to teach us something. “When she was twenty, she was as seven for beauty…when she was one hundred, she was as twenty for sin. (Genesis Rabbah 58:1)

Later in Genesis Rabbah we learn that Abraham and Sarah were so respected, so important that “all the inhabitants of the land locked their doors and came to pay their respects to Sarah, (by accompanying her funeral). And that all those “who accompanied Sarah to her final resting place merited to do so for Abraham as well, so that they could also be present at Abraham’s funeral (38 years later). (Genesis Rabbah 62:3)

If we were to write our own modern version of Eishet Chayil, what would you include? Who is a woman of valour.

We said:

A woman of valour—one who thinks for herself, who stands up for herself and speaks up. Who speaks with kindness. Who achieves a work-life balance. Who is creative. Who has the choice to work or not, finding meaningful employment. Who makes time for her family, her community. Who nurtures her intellectual self and her emotional self and her spiritual self. Who is economically secure and gives tzedakah.

Then we read a modern version of Eishet Chayil written by Ahava Lilith EverShine. https://ritualwell.org/ritual/todays-woman-valor

Eishet Chayil is also part of the traditional Friday night table service at home. The husband reads it to his wife. Last night we did that here—and the reading that now many wives read to their husbands. We blessed the candles, “made” Kiddush, blessed the children and sang Shalom Aleichem. It is part of how we build shalom bayit, peace of the house. So sorely needed, especially this week. Our homes are to be a mikdash me’at, a little sanctuary. Our homes, through the Shabbat table service is to mirror the way Shabbat was celebrated in the Holy Temple. And bring us peace. So shalom bayit is a critical value in the Jewish people.

However, like every other socio-ecomonic, educational, ethnic, racial group, there is Domestic Violence in the Jewish community too.

Yes, there is domestic violence in the Jewish community. For some that is shocking.

Sadly, the statistics are the same for every socio-ecomonic, ethnic, religious, educational class. We talk about 1 in 4 women will experience violence against them sometime in their life time. 1 in 4. 25% That means that someone sitting in this very room just might be a survivor.

There are resources specific to the Jewish community—and right here in Elgin. The Community Crisis Center. Shalva. Jewish Women International. You may have noticed the posters in the bathrooms. Both the men’s and the women’s. If you are woman or a man—because men can be victims too—reach out. You are not alone. Help is available.

In light of the #MeToo movement we felt that this was an especially important message to convey this year. It has been a long time passion of mine. In May I was tapped by the Crisis Center to be on a panel about #MeToo and Spirituality. Next week I am participating on a panel to address sexual harassment in the Jewish workplace, as an example. Maureen works full time on this issue.

But domestic abuse, family violence, sexual assault is not new. Sarah had her own #meToo moments…when she was told to pretend to be Abraham’s sister—not his wife. Desperate people sometimes do desperate things. There was a great famine in the land and Abraham and Sarah went down to Egypt to find food. They were refugees. They were desperate. They Her beauty was indeed noticed and she was offered up to the Pharaoh in Egypt as one of his wives in his harem. Before he actually takes possession of her, the ruse is revealed and she is returned to Abraham.

The continuation of this week’s portion includes finding a wife for Isaac. Part of what we learn in this long, repetitious chapter, is that women are required to consent. Rebecca has to say “Yes” to her family and to Abraham’s servant. She has to opt in to go. Yes, consent is that early. Then the rest of the story reads like a Hollywood script. She arrives on a camel. Isaac looks up. Sees her from afar. The camel bends his knee (watch that verb—the camel isn’t blessing!). She falls off the camel. He takes her to Sarah’s tent. He loves her. The first mention of love in the Bible. And he is comforted on the death of his mother. We’ve come full circle.

Later tonight is the first performance of Rosenstrasse. It is again about strong women. They step out of their comfort zone. They speak up—I’m not sure that the law of kindness is on their tongue—and they do it while taking care of their jobs, their children and their households. Spoiler alert: They take on the Nazi Gestapo, and win. Managing to rescue their husbands, saving 1700 lives. They were true Women of Valor.

I can’t imagine a more poignant way to mark my mother’s 10^th yahrzeit than by watching my daughter produce this play. My mother’s legacy lives on in the strength of my daughter. I am so very, very proud.

There has been a lot written since the tragedy in Pittsburgh. I have written other pieces as well. But I was just asked to do this for the Washington Post. Where was G-d? Here is my answer…

Last week on Monday I received a call from the police department to attend a death scene as a chaplain. You never know quite what you are walking into. Tragically, this was a 16 year old who died from leukemia having just completed his last round of chemo. The mother was understandably upset. She kept leaning over her boy, “Breathe. Just breathe.” It was heart wrenching. Gut wrenching.

She was very, very angry with G-d. I understand that. And my G-d can take it. But I don’t believe that G-d caused it. And I don’t believe that G-d needed another little (he wasn’t quite so little) angel. It is OK to be angry with G-d.

Where was G-d?

On this past Shabbat, Jews around the world read the story of Abraham and Sarah and their wide-open tent to receive visitors. It is a story of audacious hospitality. The haftarah, the section from the prophetic books, tells another story of audacious hospitality. Chapter 4 of II Kings, tells another story, where the rich woman prepares an upper chamber for her guest, Elisha. He promises her that like Sarah before, she will conceive and bear a son. And she does. But one day, that son had a horrible headache, sat in her lap, and died. She summoned the holy man Elisha, and he was brought back to life.

This past weekend, just as we were reading these very words, others were dying in a synagogue in Pittsburgh. Murdered while praying. For being Jews. Again the question.

Where was G-d?

This week the Washington Post asked just that question. I decided I would try to write, between my own tears and my own anger. Just 800 words.

Where was G-d?

G-d was with Cecil and David Rosenthal as they practiced their own audacious hospitality, wishing everyone who entered Tree of Life Synagogue, Shabbat Shalom, a Sabbath of peace.

G-d was with the first responders whose voices you can hear calmly answering the dispatchers questions—and those calm dispatchers responding. I know, I spend time in our own communications department at EPD where it is often eerily calm, including when I called in on Saturday morning.

G-d was with the doctors and nurses, some of whom were Jewish who treated the victims, including the shooter, even has he hurled anti-semetic rhetoric.

G-d was with the wider community who showed up, on no notice, often bearing flowers or baked goods or a hug or a note.

G-d was with every preacher who preached. Every person who stood silent in a vigil. Every one who lit a candle or sang a song. Hiney Ma Tov–how good and how pleasant it is to dwell together. Olam chesed yibaneh. Build this world on love.

G-d was in our tears and our screams and our rage.

After 9/11 I was asked this very question. I was living in a suburb of Boston and some of the victims were my neighbors, my co-workers, my friends. How could G-d let this happen?

Where was G-d?

I learned this very lesson from my UCC minister colleague, Rev. Larry Zimmerman. G-d wept with us.

G-d didn’t cause those planes to crash. People did. So like Rabbi Harold Kushner who wrote When Bad Things Happen to Good People, I believe that G-d gave us free will. Once we choose to do something evil, G-d, having given us free will, can’t then step in and stop it.

Most rabbis changed their carefully crafted High Holiday sermons that year. I did too. On the first day of Rosh Hashanah we read the story of Hagar. She cries out to G-d, “Don’t let me look on while my child dies.” G-d hears her cries and the cries of the lad. G-d opens her eyes and she finds a spring of water.

This story, too ,was part of the portion we read on Shabbat last week.

We all need to open our eyes and find another way. Another way that may have been there all along, like that well of water of Hagar. We need to keep trying, again and again and again.

In this case, we need to find the wellspring of love. “Love your neighbor as yourself.” “Love the stranger in your gates.” Over and over and over again this is the message. 36 times in the Torah, that very Tree of Life as the Torah itself is called, it tells us to love the stranger. That is where G-d is. In acts of baseless love combatting baseless hatred. Who will join me…because that is where we will find G-d.

Vows. Promises. Spoken and unspoken. Promises Made. Promised Kept. Promises broken. Tonight is about the promises we make to ourselves, to our families, to our communities and to our G-d.

Since Rosh Hashanah, we have been talking about covenant. The question that tonight begs is how do we repair a covenant? What happens if the promises in a covenant go awry? And since we are all human in this room, they surely will, since none of us, least of all me, is perfect.

“Since Yom Kippur is kind of like the Super Bowl of the Jewish calendar, most rabbis try to cram a whole year’s worth of sermons into one big, ‘best of’ sermon. I’m not going to do that. I’m not going to talk about the meaning of God, or the situation in Israel, or the status of Jews around the world. I’d like to talk about something a little more personal. A wise man once told me that no rabbi can save anyone; he can only offer himself as a guide to other people. For a while now, you’ve let me be your guide. You’ve shared your lives with me. You’ve explored your faith with me. You’ve put your trust in me, but I haven’t been sharing my life with you.”

I hope I have been your guide. You may recognize those words. My all time favorite Yom Kippur sermon given by Rabbi Ben Stiller in the movie Keeping the Faith. Three inseparable friends from eighth grade get reunited as adults in New York City. A rabbi, a priest and now a high-powered woman business executive. It begins, in a bar, like a joke. But it develops into much more than who gets the girl. It talks about shared vision, shared “ministry”, interfaith dating, the transition of leadership between generations. I show a clip of it to every Bar Mitzvah student starting his lessons—with parent permission. And I dream of when our own choir or Mishmosh can sing Ein Keloheinu like the Harlem Gospel Choir—or maybe Second Baptist.

Yom Kippur is personal. Highly personal. For each of us.

The Moth Radio Hour recently had a story on about a young woman, Tig, and her stepfather after the sudden death of her mother. As a child, she seemed to think he had no real emotion. When she was young and cleaning her room, he would confiscate the toys, put them in a trash bag, and she would have to do chores to buy them back. Harsh, yes, she said, and totally fair. He wanted to mold her into the person he was. But her mother believed the most important thing was for her to be happy. Even dropping out of high school she was still proud. Eventually she found a career in stand up comedy. Her stepfather thought her career was a waste of her time and her intelligence. She should be a doctor, or lawyer, or go to business school. A decade ago she was on the phone with her mother. They were arguing and her mother handed to phone to her stepfather who said her mother doesn’t want to talk to you and hung up.

This March, her phone rang again.

“Parents” came up as the caller ID. She assumed it was her mother calling to wish her a happy birthday. But it was her stepfather, who had only ever called twice, telling her mother had fallen and hit her head and had massive brain hemorrhaging. She would never be able to talk to her mother again. She believes, she knows that her mother would give anything to come back and say that she loves her. There would be zero fighting. There would only be I love yous and I’m sorrys.

After the funeral during the long car ride home, her stepfather said, “Tig I want to talk to you about something. I want to talk to you about when I hurt your feelings when I told you to go to business school. It was hurtful to say that it was a waste of your time and your intelligence and he started to cry.

I was wrong and I wanted to apologize for that. I didn’t ever understand you as a child. I didn’t get you at all. I projected onto you my life and my route. I’m realizing that it is not the child’s responsibility to teach the parent who they are. It’s the parents responsibility to learn who the child is. And I didn’t do that. And I’m sorry.” Now they are both crying. He continued, “I realize, the only thing you should be doing is comedy.” And she said that she didn’t realize that she how desperately she needed to hear that.

https://player.themoth.org/#/?actionType=ADD_AND_PLAY&storyId=911

What do you need to hear this Yom Kippur?

In asking others, this is a partial list: (SLOWLY)

• That you are loved
• That you are forgiven
• That there is hope
• That the world is going to be OK—for us, for our children, for our grandchildren
• That someone is proud of you
• That what you did made a difference
• That we can reconnect with G-d, with each other, with ourselves
• That we can find balance
• That you are OK…right now. Just the way you are.

How do we hear those words? How many times do we need to hear those words? What do we do when we have caused damage, whether we know it or not, like the stepfather.

Our Torah portion tomorrow gives us a recipe for living. More of the keys to the covenant. We call the text Kedoshim, the Holiness Code. It tells us that we should be holy because G-d is holy. It tells us we should not put a stumbling block before the blind or curse the deaf, that we should not stand idly by while our neighbor bleeds, that we should leave our corners of the field, that we should treat everyone fairly, that we should have just weights and measures

Yet, there is one verse that seems out of place.

It tells us that we should “reprove your kinsman” (Leviticus 19:17) but then it goes on to say you shall not hate you kinsfolk in your heart. You shall not incur any guilt because of them. You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge. Love your neighbor as your self.”

How do we do this? How do we do both, not hold a grudge and offer a loving rebuke or reproach? How do we correct someone when we see someone doing something wrong—or maybe even causing harm to themselves or others? How do we love our neighbor, our fellow, our friend?

It’s simple no? Maybe not. Maybe that is why Yom Kippur comes every year. Maybe we need to try again every year.

The answer seems to be with compassion.

How do you give a rebuke? With love.

Rabbi Rachel Cowen, of blessed memory and only very recently, we are still in the shloshim, 30 day mourning period for her, taught in her book Wise Aging:

In Proverbs 28: 23, we are told, “One who rebukes a person shall in the end find more favor than one who flatters with the tongue.” In the Talmud, we hear from two of the sages: “Rabbi Yosi bar Chanina said: ‘Rebuke leads to love… Any love that does not include rebuke is not really love.’ Reish Lakish said: ‘Rebuke leads to peace… any peace that does not include rebuke is not really peace’” (Genesis Rabbah 54: 3).   (Kindle Locations 2417-2418-2420).

Rabbi Esther Adler refers to this as “sacred nagging” and sees it as a sign of love. “If I decide that there is no point in raising the issue because I won’t be heard or because ‘she’ll never change anyway,’ I am writing that person off, forgetting that she, too, is created in the image of God.” But the book of Proverbs (9: 8) also advises caution, “Do not rebuke a scoffer, for he will hate you; reprove a wise man and he will love you.” (Kindle Locations 2423-2427).

A tochachah, then, can be read as if it were actually two Hebrew words, toch ahavah, which translates as “inside love” or “from a place of love.” (Kindle Locations 2434-2435). It is a deep love and expansiveness of spirit and a risk taking that can often open you up to new possibilities.

Perfect for this season of Rosh Hashanah, the head of the year, with its double entrendre of a new change, since shanah means both year and change.

This summer there was a delightful documentary, “Won’t you be my neighbor” Mr. Rogers had just the right amount of compassion. He understood some of these basic truths.

He said, “Forgiveness is a strange thing. It can sometimes be easier to forgive our enemies than our friends. It can be hardest of all to forgive people we love. Like all of life’s important coping skills, the ability to forgive and the capacity to let go of resentments most likely take root very early in our lives.

He said in an interview quoting one of his books “One thing that evil cannot stand is forgiveness”. Then he left a page blank , because it takes a lot of work, as he said to think about this. He’s right. There is a lot to think about.

That’s why we are here today. To begin to think about these topics deeply. To begin to understand how to do this whole teshuvah thing with grace and compassion. And in the process find love and peace.

Forgiveness is another one of those signs of the covenant, another key. You might remember on Rosh Hashanah when I talked about pitchers and catchers being in a sacred relationship. So are teams and fans. Sometimes that trust gets broken.

Now it might be risky to use an example from the Cubs in a congregation that is divided between Cubs and Sox…but I was struck by Steve Bartman’s words:

“Although I do not consider myself worthy of such an honor, I am deeply moved and sincerely grateful to receive an official Chicago Cubs 2016 World Series Championship ring. I am fully aware of the historical significance and appreciate the symbolism the ring represents on multiple levels. My family and I will cherish it for generations. Most meaningful is the genuine outreach from the Ricketts family, on behalf of the Cubs organization and fans, signifying to me that I am welcomed back into the Cubs family and have their support going forward. I am relieved and hopeful that the saga of the 2003 foul ball incident surrounding my family and me is finally over…Moreover, I am hopeful this ring gesture will be the start of an important healing and reconciliation process for all involved.”

https://wgntv.com/2017/07/31/steve-bartman-to-receive-2016-chicago-cubs-world-series-championship-ring/

Welcomed back. He has returned. He has been allowed to return. That’s teshuvah.

For five weeks, some of us have been studying deeply the Book of Jonah which we will read as a community tomorrow afternoon. Jonah, a reluctant prophet, gives us a glimpse of what it means to be offered a second chance. Or a third or a fourth. We will talk more about Jonah tomorrow but for tonight—we know, because of Jonah, that we all get second chances.

This includes our children—and their children. They get second and third and fourth chances too.

Rachel Cowan said that, sometimes, “we will ask ourselves why: If they (the children) are the guarantors, why do we still sometimes feel like we should be the guardians? What ego investment do we have in what remains of our role as parents? Are we reluctant to relinquish our role in their upbringing because whatever comes next for us is so ill-defined?   (Kindle Locations 1680-1682).

Just like Tig learned, “If we are wise and humble we will ask ourselves what we can do to support their growth and wellbeing without imposing our own sense of what their futures should look like. We see how easy it is to intervene too much, and on the other side to fail to step in when help is genuinely needed. It may feel like a delicate balance to turn adulthood over to our children, (Kindle Locations 1677-1680).

So how do we ask for forgiveness without it seeming to be disingenuous. Bruce Feiler, who wrote Walking the Bible, the November book group book, wrote an article in the New York Times about forgiveness, that includes four steps:

1. Admit vulnerability. Like the tochacha above, you need to notice that something is broken. You have to accept responsibility for your own role in causing others pain.
2. The apologize. Really, really apologize. Not a saccharin, sweet kind. Not one that says, “I’m sorry you are upset.” You are not owning responsibility. Not like the coach of Ohio State did recently in a news conference, “My apology is not for turning my back on domestic violence,” Meyer said.

https://www.cbssports.com/college-football/news/urban-meyer-reiterates-apology-for-courtney-smith-says-he-didnt-intentionally-try-to-delete-texts/

We all know an empty apology when we hear one.

3. Try instead simply: I’m sorry because my actions or my words hurt you. Most of us don’t know how to fix relationships that we have broken. That’s what tonight is about. Learning to fix, to repair our relationships.
4. Then ask. You really have to ask. Ask for forgiveness. Say the words. Don’t assume everything is better and that they have forgiven you. Then don’t repeat the mistake. When confronted with the same options, don’t do it again.

https://www.nytimes.com/2015/09/27/fashion/how-to-forgive-in-four-steps.html

Sometimes forgiveness isn’t possible. Sometimes we seek or offer forgiveness from people who have died or that through time or distance we are no longer connected to. Sometimes the hurt is too deep.

So there is an important caution. Rabbi Chana Leslie Glazer reminds us that we all know that sometimes it is not so easy to forgive. It could be our own stubbornness or spite. But sometimes it goes deeper. The work of Teshuvah doesn’t mean that we tolerate or overlook unacceptable behavior from someone especially if that is abusive behavior.

Forgiving is not forgetting. Forgiving can only happen once a person is safe. Sometimes that requires not being with the person who has hurt you. Sometimes, it can’t happen immediately. There needs to be trust. And confidence that the behavior won’t happen again. It might mean that this can’t happen on its own, as part of some formula we recite at services. It may require outside help. Talking with a counselor or a therapist.

Story from Yom Kippur Readings from Rachel Naomi Remen, MD who wrote Kitchen Table Wisdom. She tells a story of hearing a prominent rabbi talk on Yom Kippur talk about forgiveness. He began by taking his infant daughter from his wife’s arms and bringing her onto the bimah. He then began his rather traditional and somewhat boring sermon. The baby girl smiled and everyone’s heart melted. She patted him on the check with her tiny hands. He smiled fondly at her and continued with his customary dignity. She reached for his tie and put in her mouth. She grabbed his nose and the whole congregation chuckled. He said, “Think about it. Is there anything she can do that you would not forgive her? Heads nodded in agreement. She grabbed his glasses. Everyone laughed. He waited for silence and then said, “When does that stop. When does it get hard to forgive. At three? At seven? At sixteen? At forty five? How old does someone have to be before you forget that everyone is a child of God?” I would add, created b’tzelem elohim, in the image of God, with the divine spark inside. Naomi added that for her, God’s forgiveness was easy to understand but that personal forgiveness was difficult. If we are supposed to be like God and follow in God’s footsteps, isn’t this the message? It is not a lowering of standards. It is being in a family relationship.

So I will tell you tonight, so that I hope you can hear me:

• You are loved
• You are forgiven
• There is hope
• The world is going to be OK—for us, for our children, for our grandchildren
• Someone is proud of you
• What you did made a difference
• We can reconnect with G-d, with each other, with ourselves
• We can find balance
• You are OK…right now. Just the way you are.

Then when we get to that final shofar blast, we will be ready to face tomorrow cleansed. We will be ready to face the new year free.

The community we build here at CKI needs to be a place, a safe non-judgmental space where all of our members and our guests can feel that way. Then it will be a shanah tovah, a sweet new year. May we each be sealed for a blessing.

I began my Friday night d’var Torah in a different way. Here is a box. A box of rainbow colored wooden blocks. Your job is to build a tower, or more than one, as tall as you can, without talking. The building commenced. Alliances were formed. Three towers emerged. Some people were actively engaged. Some just hung around the edges not sure what we were doing. In the end, one tower was the tallest and one collapsed as they desperately tried to make it even bigger.

What did just happen there? We learned about language, about cooperation, about individualism and community, about competition. We learned about the Tower of Babel and some of the implications for today.

The Tower of Babel story is in the third triennial reading. This year. It doesn’t get as much play as Noah and the Ark and the Flood. But maybe they are linked in some important ways.

It seems to me that they are both about repair. Repair of our relationships. With others, with G-d, with the earth.

This weekend at CKI we had Shabbat evening services, Shabbat morning services with a Bar Mitzvah and then Hebrew School with a pet blessing for Shabbat Noah. Lots of energy.

About the Tower of Babel. We learned that G-d came down (from where?) and saw what the people were doing. All the people, all of humanity. They were trying to build a tower as high as the sky. Where? Why? Not clear. Maybe it was a competition. Maybe it was to see what they could see. Maybe it was to attack G-d. The Targum Yerushalmi says that the tower was to be capped off with a statue of a man holding a sword.

In any case, G-d decides that this building project is not good. So “confounds” their language. Now there are 70 languages. Usually, we think the Tower of Babel story is yet another story of G-d losing patience with G-d’s Creation and trying to destroy it. Those “uppity” people, trying to draw too close to G-d. But what if this is really an example of G-d’s desire for diversity? What if this is an argument that we are better together, than apart, but only to a point?

It seems there is a tension in Judaism between universalism and particularlism. Are we the chosen people, and if so chosen for what? To be a kingdom of priests and a holy nation? To be a light to the nations? Again, for what? So that as the prophet promised, “On that day the Lord shall be one and G-d’s name shall be one.”

But back up. Here, in this week’s text, right after G-d promises to never destroy the world again with a flood, right after the sign of the covenant, the rainbow, high in the sky, sign of that covenant, G-d doesn’t like people getting too close. G-d doesn’t want to war with people. G-d doesn’t want to be challenged. And even more…G-d doesn’t want the people to care more about the resources for building this tower than they care for the people building the tower.

How is that? In one of our earliest midrashim it explains that “If a person were to fall and die, no one would notice him; but if even a single brick were to fall, they would sit and cry, “Woe unto us, for when will another brick be brought up in its stead.” (Pirke de Rabbi Eliezar 24)

Winning at any cost caused our play towers to crumble. We still have issues with building safety.

Just this week, two construction workers were seriously injured in Evanston unloading steel beams with a crane. One died at the hospital.

Just this week, the United States faced another hurricane. It is hard to reconcile this powerful storm with G-d’s promise to never destroy the world again by flood. Where is the rainbow we need now?

Are these powerful storms a punishment from G-d? Some theologians would say so. Rather, it seems more likely that we humans have a role in them. As climate change continues to be proven and the waters of the ocean heat up, we get stronger and stronger storms. Also just this week, we learned in a well researched IPCC report of the UN that we have until 2040 to make a real, lasting difference in reversing these effects of climate change. Widely reported in the press, the most fascinating was from Wharton Business School, because of its lasting economic impact. http://knowledge.wharton.upenn.edu/article/climate-change-report-ipcc/

And recently, as recently as me writing these very words, even Trump has concluded that climate change is not a hoax. https://www.apnews.com/029c37e1c3b94f0490e8a84b2bd9f21f

Living near the coast in Massachusetts, every year or so, another house or two perched on an ocean bluff, would fall into the waves below, a victim of rising waters and sand erosion. Who wouldn’t want to build with those beautiful views of an Atlantic sunrise?

The building of the Tower of Babel, the oppression of workers doing the building, now as then, and the need to build our cities so close to the water’s edge. All revolve around one issue. Hubris. Pride cometh before a fall. The fall of a tower. The fall of steel beams. The fall of beautiful oceanside housing. Recognizing our pride demands us to repair our relationships. With G-d. With each other. With the earth. We were not put here to “subdue” the earth as some translations say, but to partner with G-d to be caretakers of the earth.

In our story today, G-d comes down (from where?) and looks and sees what the people are doing, and with the consultation of the heavenly courts, decides to confound the arrogance of “oneness” and divide the world into seventy languages. Language becomes a babel, a confusion. It is where the word Babylon comes from.

The rabbinic sage Ibn Ezra (1089-1167) says that the phrase “one people” means “one religion”. As Rabbi Huberman taught, “He worried that one set of beliefs could lead to extremism and zealotry. And so, in part, to prevent a monolithic humanity from believing it was more omnipotent than God, diversity was woven into the very fabric of creation.”

That diversity is important. In building a tower. In building a community. In building CKI where we even have a plank in our vision statement that says we embrace diversity. And on the football field. There are plenty of examples—not often enough of the team that allows someone to play with them who is differently abled. Those are the stories that make the news. They tug at our heart strings.

But it takes everyone pulling together—whatever language they speak, whatever opinions they have, whatever abilities they have to make you successful. There is a popular saying that there is no I in Team. That is part of what we learn here. If ego gets in the way, the tower falls. This portion is about balance. Between sun and rain, between right and wrong, between universalism and particularism, between the community and the individual. What G-d is demanding is that we be part of the team—in order to receive that covenant of G-d’s peace and friendship.

Our Bar Mitzvah student taught us powerfully, that this Briti Shalom, “My Covenant of Peace” comes when we have friends, when we are part of a community, when we are not lonely. That’s when we achieve friendship and peace. He taught us that while Noah put all the animals on the ark to care for them, part of our covenant today is to take care of all of the earth, because the earth is the ark. Both of those teachings were new and he got to speak as one of the speakers at the high holidays about covenant.

Last week we learned a powerful genealogy from Adam to Noah. Noah was a righteous man in his generation. This portion gives us the genealogy from Noah to Abraham who was a righteous man. Our Bar Mitzvah family on both his father’s side and his mother’s side are descendants of priests, cohanim. Some laugh at that distinction today because how do we know. And in truth we don’t. However, the Torah teaches us that we, as Jews, are to be a kingdom of priests and a holy nation to be a light to the nations. In that way we are all priests today. It was then my honor to give him the priestly benediction, the prayer reserved for the priests, that one day he too may pass down to his descendants and the rest of us. “May G-d bless you and keep you. May G-d’s light shine upon you (and smile at you!) May G-d lift G-d’s face to you and grant you peace, (that covenant of friendship and peace) now and forever.” It was a holy moment.

On Sunday our blessings for Shabbat Noach continued as families brought their pets for a pet blessing. We had five dogs and a stuffed dog. One person made special homemade dog treats. We laughed at the antics of the animals and sang the old camp song, “The Lord said to Noah” with gusto. A quick reminder that the covenant that G-d has with us extends to our animals too. We are reminded to feed our animals before ourselves and to let our animals rest on Shabbat.

Shabbat Noach. Lots to learn. What a great weekend.

Rainbow

A drop of dew
Of rain
A crystal
Clinging to the dying thistle
Sun shining through it
Like a diamond sparkling
Bright, white light
Colors projecting on the wet grass
A rainbow appears.

Raindrops in the sky
Dark storm clouds behind
Lit by the
Sun shining through it
Piercing the clouds
Refracting the light
A rainbow appears.

Reminding us
Shining through a drop
Shining through rain
Sign of G-d’s love
Sign of G-d’s covenant
A covenant of peace
Of wholeness
A covenant of friendship

A rainbow demands

Look!
Through the raindrop
Through the dew

See!
The beauty
The pain

Act!
Join Me
Join others

Remember!
You are loved.
You are not alone.

Zocher et habrit!
Remember the covenant.

Here is another of my holiday d’vrei Torah (sermons). We need to welcome our guests.

Kabbalat Shabbat: To Welcome Shabbat. To Receive Shabbat.

The whole of the Friday night service called Kabbalat Shabbat is to welcome Shabbat and for us to receive it. It is the sign of the covenant between G-d and the people of Israel as we sing each week with “V’shamru.” We welcome Shabbat and the Shabbat angels and each other, and any mourners amongst us and the Shabbat bride and queen. And we welcome guests.

This month we have been focusing on welcoming guests, as part of our covenantal relationship to one another. In Hebrew we call this principle, hachnasat orchim, literally allowing guests to enter.

At Sukkot, the Harvest Festival, we welcome “Ushpizin” to our sukkot. Each night we welcome a different spiritual guest. In fact, the word ushpizin is really the Aramaic word for guest. First referred to in the Zohar in the late 13^th century:

“When you sit in the sukkah, ‘the shade of faithfulness,’ the Shekhina spreads Her wings over you and… Abraham, five other righteous ones, and King David, make their dwelling with you…Thus you should rejoice with a shining countenance and every day of the festival together with these guests who lodge with you…” (Zohar Emor, 103b)

Each of these guests is linked to a spiritual quality, a G-dly character trait, one of the sepherot, the mystical aspects and emanation of G-d, that we would like to emulate:

• Day one: Abraham, Chesed
• Day two: Isaac, Gevurah, restraint, discipline
• Day three: Jacob, tiferet, beauty, harmony, truth
• Day four: Moses, netzach, victory, endurance, everlasting
• Day five: Aaron, hod, splendor, humility, hidden
• Day six: Joseph, Yesod, Foundation, Connection
• Day seven: David, Malchut, Sovereignty, Receptiveness, Leadership1

This teaching come from Rabbi Isaac Luria, the 16th century mystic of Sefat. The very same Rabbi Luria who gave us the structure for Kabbalat Shabbat, the very service we are doing tonight.

These days, we tend to invite women ushpizot as well. The seven women are based on the teaching in the Talmud Megilah 14a-b, naming seven women prophets: Sarah, Miriam, Deborah, Hannah, Abigail, Huldah and Esther. Studying each of these women would make for a fascinating adult study class, but that would be for another time.

If you could invite anyone, living or dead, to join us in the sukkah tonight, who would it be?

Some of the answers included Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Columbus, several grandparents, It’s a good question.

The prayer for this welcoming has become:

“May it be Your will, Lord my God and God of my ancestors, to send Your presence to dwell in our midst and to spread over us the sukkah of Your peace, to encircle us with the majesty of Your pure and holy radiance. Give sufficient bread and water to all who are hungry and thirsty. Give us many days to grow old upon the earth, the holy earth, that we may serve You and revere You. Blessed by the Lord forever – amen, amen. Sarah, my exalted guest, may it please you to have all the exalted guests join me and you, along with Miriam, Deborah, Hannah, Abigail, Huldah and Esther”

One of the people I would like to have would be Honi the Circle Drawer. We know the story of Honi and how he planted carob trees just as his ancestors planted for him. I’ve told the story of Honi and his drawing circles here but not recently. So on a night that it is a little damp, and just before we add the prayer for rain in our services, it bears repeating.

You see, some people think the lulav is like a Native American rain stick. Listen carefully to the sound.

The Talmud teaches in Ta’anit 19a that once there was a terrible drought in the land of Israel. It was already Adar, long past the end of Sukkot where we add the prayer for rain. Usually by now they were marking the end of the rainy season.

The people begged Honi the Circle Maker to pray. He prayed, but still no rain fell. He drew a circle in the dust and stood in the middle of it. Raising his hands to the heavens, he vowed, “G-d, I will not move from this circle until You send rain!” It began to sprinkle, just a few drops. The drops hissed on the hot stones. The people were not satisfied and complained, “This is only enough rain to release you from your vow.”

So Honi prayed again, “I asked for more than this trifling drizzle. I was asking for enough rain to fill wells, cisterns, ditches!” The heavens opened up and poured down rain in buckets. The parched earth began to flood. The cisterns overflowed. There was too much rain! The people of Jerusalem ran to the Temple Mount for safety. “Honi! Save us! We will all be destroyed like the generation of the Flood. Stop the rains!”

Honi again prayed. This time for the rains to stop. They did and he told the people to bring a thanksgiving offering to the Temple. Then Honi again prayed, and said to G-d, “This people that You brought out of Egypt can take neither too much evil or too much good. Please give them what they want.” This is the Goldilocks moment. Not too little. Not too much. Just right.

Then G-d sent a strong wind that blew away the fierce rains and the storm calmed. Shimon ben Shetakh, the head of the Sanhedrin wanted to put Honi in cherem, to excommunicate him, for his audacity, but decided against it, saying “What can I do against you, who nags G-d and G-d answers you, fulfilling your wish like a child who nags a parent and the parent fulfills his wish.”

Honi is not the only one who demands something of G-d. Abraham when he argues to spare Sodom and Gemorrah, Moses when he argues with G-d to take care of G-d’s people and not abandon them after the sin of the Golden Calf. Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev who demands that G-d take care of the people of Israel reminding G0d that Levi Yitzchak is G-d’s child. So praying boldly is a good thing in Judaism.

And then, just as we find with Honi, G-d’s grace, mercy compassion will rain down on us.

What about this rain stick—the lulav—the arbah minim, the Four Species. It is said that it represents the human body:

• the lulav, the palm is the spine,
• the hadass, myrtle, the eyes
• the aravah, the willow, the lips
• the etrog, the citron, the heart.

When we shake the lulav, we are using are whole selves.

Another explanation, is that each of the components represents a different kind of person:

• The lulav has taste but no smell like people who study Torah but don’t do good deeds.
• The myrtle has fragrant but has no taste, like people who do good deeds but do not study.
• The willow has neither taste nor smell like those who lack both study and good deeds
• The etrog has both taste and smell, like those who have both Torah and good deeds.

Taken all together, as we do when we shake the lulav and etrog, we have everything we need. It represents the whole community, entered into the covenant. This includes our guests, as we are commanded to welcome the stranger within our gates. In facet, to love the stranger within our gates. When we shake the lulav and the etrog, we are causing G-d to rain down, to bestow blessings upon us.