My mother died on Election Day in 2008. It seems like it was a lifetime ago. The world seemed full of optimism and hope. Even her hospital room. Even in Grand Rapids, MI. That Grand Rapids, where the President ended his campaign last last night. That Grand Rapids, where President Ford was the sitting President when I took civics in High School and he was the hometown boy. Where my mother was actively involved, Girl Scout leader, PTO, League of Women Voters, Ladies Literary Club and so much more. So it seemed natural that I as a rabbi would teach for her yahrzeit. Here is what I taught:

Pre-Election Teaching in Memory of Nelle Frisch

Some people mark a yahrzeit with a candle. Some with saying Kaddish. Some by offering a teaching. As a rabbi, I teach.

We will look at

• Historical and Current Prayers for our Country
• Why Jews are proud to participate in democracy and citizenship
• Talk about the flag above prepared by the Bureau of Jewish Education several election cycles ago
• What the ancient Jewish sources have said about government

We will end with Kaddish.

Grant Us Peace

Grant us peace. Your most precious gift, O Eternal Source of Peace,
and give us the will to proclaim its message to all the peoples of the earth.
Bless our country, that it may always be a stronghold of peace,
and its advocate among the nations.
May contentment reign within its borders, health and happiness within its homes.
Strengthen the bonds of friendship among the inhabitants of all lands.
And may the love of Your name hallow every home and every heart.
Blessed is the Eternal God, the source of Peace.
– From The Gates of Prayer: The New Union Prayer Book,
by the Central Conferences of American Rabbis

In another era this was my mother’s confirmation speech at Shereth Emeth in Saint Louis in 1938 from the Union Prayer Book with all the thees and thous. She then read it at my daughter’s Bat Mitzvah in 2003 at Temple Emanuel of the Merrimack Valley.

What the ancient Jewish sources have said about government:

“Be sure to place over yourselves the king that God elects for you” (Deut. 17:14–15). God chose the first king, Saul (1 Sam. 9:16–17), but God’s choice for the second king, David, was confirmed by “all of Israel’s elders” (2 Sam. 5:3). And the third king, Solomon, ruled in David’s bloodline but “all the people” together ratified his accession (1 Kings 1:39).

Rabbi Isaac said: One does not appoint a leader for a community without consulting the community, as it is written, “See, the Eternal has singled out by name Betzalel” (Exodus 35:30). The Holy One said to Moses, “Moses, is Bezalel worthy in your opinion to be a leader?” Moses answered to God, “Ruler of the Universe, if he is worthy before You, how could he possibly not be worthy before me?” God said to him, “Even so, go and ask them.” (Berachot 55a)

1. Be cautious with the government, for they only bring a person close to them for their own needs. They appear as friends when it benefits them, but they do not stand by a person in his time of difficulty. (Pirke Avot 2:3)
2. Rabbi Hanina, the vice-high priest said: pray for the welfare of the government, for were it not for the fear it inspires, every man would swallow his neighbor alive. (Pirke Avot 3:2)
3. Rabbeinu Yonah, 13^th-century Spanish rabbi, Talmudist, and ethicist, explained this passage in the following way to emphasize the importance of Jews praying for the welfare of all people: “Man would swallow his fellow alive: This matter is wanting to say that a person should pray for the peace of the whole world and be in pain about the pain of others. […] As a person should not make his supplications and his requests for his needs alone, but rather to pray for all people, that they be at peace. As with the welfare of the government, there is peace in the world.”

Judaism and Civic Engagement:

Questions:

• How do we continue to have civil discourse?
• How do we reconcile these values if we see something else happening?
• What is the difference between political and partisan?

“Judaism teaches us that voting is not just a civic duty. In fact, throughout Jewish history, many of our rabbis and sages have framed voting as a mitzvah, a Jewish imperative.

Our tradition views us as working in partnership with God to create a better world – as we pray in the Aleinu prayer, l’takein olam b’malchut Shaddai – and Torah calls on us to pursue justice, to care for the stranger, the widow, and the orphan, and to sustain our world.

We are further taught to “choose life, so that you and your children may live” (Deuteronomy 30). Choosing life is a positive action, reminding us that we have to make choices to create the world we want to live in. Voting, in a democratic society, is such an example of making a choice.

Rabbi Yitzhak taught that “A ruler is not to be appointed unless the community is first consulted” (Babylonian Talmud Berachot 55a), further explaining that in the Torah, Bezalel could be chosen to build the Tabernacle only with the community’s approval. This deeply embedded ethic of political participation has guided Jews to enthusiastically participate in the democratic process.” Rabbi Dara Lithwick

Chazon Ish (a Russian-born Orthodox rabbi who spent his later years in Palestine/Israel, 1878-1953) to explain that he didn’t have enough money to pay his taxes; therefore, he would not be allowed to vote in an upcoming election.

Hearing the man’s dilemma, the Chazon Ish responded: “You should sell your tefillin and pay the taxes… tefillin, you can borrow from another, but the right to vote you cannot get from someone else.” Rabbi David Russo

Historical and Current Prayers for our Country:

And seek the welfare of the city to which I have exiled you and pray to the LORD in its behalf; for in its prosperity you shall prosper…For thus said the LORD: When Babylon’s seventy years are over, I will take note of you, and I will fulfill to you My promise of favor—to bring you back to this place. For I am mindful of the plans I have made concerning you—declares the LORD—plans for your welfare, not for disaster, to give you a hopeful future. When you call Me, and come and pray to Me, I will give heed to you. You will search for Me and find Me, if only you seek Me wholeheartedly. (Jeremiah 29:7, 10-13)

Yoḥanan said in the name of R. Yosi: From where [do we know] that the Holy Blessed One prays? As it is said, I will bring them to the mount of my sacredness, and let them rejoice in the house of my prayer (Isaiah 56:7) – ‘their prayer’ is not said, rather my prayer. From here [we know] that the Holy Blessed One prays. What does he pray? R. Zutra b. Tuviah said that Rav said: May it be my will that my compassion subdue my anger, and my compassion prevail over my [other] qualities, and I will behave with my children with my quality of compassion, and I will enter before them short of the line of the law. (Berachot 7a)

HaNoten Teshuah:
May the One who grants victory to kings and dominion to princes, whose kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, who delivers His servant David from the evil sword1, who makes a way through the sea and a path through the mighty waters, bless and protect, guard and help, exalt, magnify and uplift–
Our Sovereign Lady Queen Victoria and Albert Edward, Prince of Wales, the Princess of Wales and the entire Royal Family

May the supreme King of Kings in His mercy grant them life, and protect them, and save them from every trouble, woe and injury. May nations submit under their feet, may their enemies fall before them, and may they succeed in all their endeavors.

May the supreme King of Kings in His mercy put into their hearts and the hearts of all their counselors and officials, to deal kindly with us and all Israel. In their days and in ours, may Judah be saved and Israel live in safety, and may the Redeemer come to ZIon. May this be His will and let us say, Amen.

(Based on prayers of Sephardic Jews in the 16th century. It was already widespread by the 1660’s, including in England, where this version originates. (“Hanoten Teshua’ The Origin of the Traditional Jewish Prayer for the Government,” Barry Schwartz) Thanks to T’ruah for supplying this one. 

A prayer for the country written after the ratification of our Constitution in 1789 by a Jewish Congregation in Richmond, Virginia. It is displayed in Philadelphia at the National Museum of American Jewish History. Note: Washington spelled out as an acrostic.

Translation: We beseech thee, O Lord to have the President of the United States … and all U.S. Senators and Representatives … grant them such a share of knowledge that will tend to the happiness of the people … that they may wisely and successfully execute the trust committed to their care, that knowledge, religion, and piety, arts and sciences, may increase, and that agriculture and manufactures, trade and commerce, may flourish.

Our God and God of our ancestors: We ask Your blessings for our country – for its government, for its leaders and advisors, and for all who exercise just and rightful authority. Teach them insights of Your Torah, that they may administer all affairs of state fairly, that peace and security, happiness and prosperity, justice and freedom may forever abide in our midst.
Creator of all flesh, bless all the inhabitants of our country with Your spirit. May citizens of all races and creeds forge a common bond in true harmony, to banish hatred and bigotry, and to safeguard the ideals and free institutions that are the pride and glory of 6ur country.
May this land, under Your Providence, be an influence for good throughout the world, uniting all people in peace and freedom – and helping them to fulfill the vision of Your prophet: “Nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they experience war any more.” And let us say: Amen. Siddur Sim Shalom

Grant us peace. Your most precious gift, O Eternal Source of Peace,
and give us the will to proclaim its message to all the peoples of the earth.
Bless our country, that it may always be a stronghold of peace,
and its advocate among the nations.
May contentment reign within its borders, health and happiness within its homes.
Strengthen the bonds of friendship among the inhabitants of all lands.
And may the love of Your name hallow every home and every heart.
Blessed is the Eternal God, the source of Peace.
– From The Gates of Prayer: The New Union Prayer Book,
by the Central Conferences of American Rabbis

And then all that has divided us will merge
And then compassion will be wedded to power
And then softness will come to a world that is harsh and unkind

And then both men and women will be gentle
And then both women and men will be strong
And then no person will be subject to another’s will

And then all will be rich and free and varied
And then the greed of some will give way to the needs of many

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

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

And then all will nourish the young
And then all will cherish life’s creatures

And then everywhere will be called Eden once again

Copyright Judy Chicago, 1979.

Prayers for Voting:
Baruch Atah Adonai Elohaynu Melech Ha-olam
She-asani Ben/Bat Chorin –
Thank you, Power of all time and space, for making me a free person.
The morning blessings as recited by Rabbi Jon Spira-Savett, Nashua, NH

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech haolam,
she–me׳tzapeh me’itanu l’asok b’avodat ezrachut ha’medina.
Blessed are you, Adonai our God, Sovereign of the Universe,
who expects us to engage as citizens in our country.
Rabbi Laura Novak Winer

A Blessing for Holy Act of Voting and America
HaMakom, holy space and energy, source of creation, wonder and kindness, the all-powerful, all-merciful, the one who breathed us into being…I have something to say to you.
I am furious.
I am terrified.
I am fragile and struggling.
I know I am not alone. We the people are struggling.
I am optimistic by nature but I feel like I am being tested, stretched to the edge of my soul’s spiritual boundary.
I know I am not alone. We the people are on edge.
I yearn to meet this moment with love, kindness, and humility – but I watch the violence of words and deeds, the degradation of your holiest creations. I watch our fellow citizens amplifying fear to cement their precarious grip on white dominance. I seek your strength to counter hate with love.
For those who seek to incite violence and preach hate, we call on you to soften their hearts and make heavy their lips.
We call on you to foil those who plot to toss out ballots like trash in the dead of night, to intimidate voters, to fray our democratic systems.
We call on you to let every vote, every voice count.
Guide us to be stonecatchers – to soften the blows of hatred – to absorb the rascally rhetoric of distrust and discord.
Stoke in our hearts the fires of freedom and nonviolent action, to rise to meet this moment, on the streets and in our communities.
Make each of us courageous citizens, elevate our voices, bodies, and spirits, so that in our own way, we collectively inch closer to making this a more perfect union.
Brighten the divine spark embedded in each of us so that we may brighten the days and years ahead of this great nation.
Make each of us like honey bees. May we collaborate to create divine nectar that sweetens life for all, reducing suffering for all, allowing us to reset, re-imagine, and re-encounter our brothers and sisters be they blue or red or purple.
Remind us, we too are divine.
Remind us, we too are loved and matter.
Remind us, November 3rd is just one more day in the lifetime of this nation.
Michebeirach avoteinu v’emoteinu – may the one who blessed our ancestors, force of love and compassion, hold us close as we venture forth – arm in arm – as we secure the blessings of liberty for all. Amen.
Rabbi Benjamin Ross

God Who commands us, “You shall not remain indifferent” (Deuteronomy 22:3); Whose Prophet taught us, “Seek the welfare of the community… and pray to the Lord on its behalf” (Jeremiah 29:7); I am about to cast my vote in America’s Presidential election. Be with me as I discharge this sacred duty… for, as President John F. Kennedy wrote:

“In a democracy, every citizen, regardless of his interest in politics, ‘holds office;’ every one of us is in a position of responsibility; and, in the final analysis, the kind of government we get depends upon how we fulfill those responsibilities.”

And as his vice president observed: “The vote is the most powerful instrument ever devised by man for breaking down injustice.”

Keep us mindful of the wisdom of Senator Margaret Chase Smith: “Freedom unexercised may become freedom forfeited” …and of Aeschylus: “In the lack of judgment great harm arises, but one vote cast can set right a house.”

May my vote help secure for all people the blessing invoked by our first President, welcoming the Jewish Community to the United States:

“May the Father of all mercies scatter light and not darkness in our paths, and make us all in our several vocations useful here, and in His own due time and way everlastingly happy.”

AMEN.
Rabbi Joseph H. Prouser is the rabbi of Temple Emanuel of North Jersey and the former National Chaplain of the National Jewish Committee on Scouting.

Eternal God,
Compassionate Judge,
Concerned Creator,
Spirit of Oneness
Infused into our very existence,
As we exercise our responsibility
As citizens
To decide who will lead us
In the coming years,
Help us to emulate your essential attributes:
Mercy
Grace
Patience
Outrage that leads to productive action
A pursuit and sharing of the truth
Kindness
Forgiveness
and the awareness that what we do in any moment
Can have long lasting consequences.
May the gifts of insight and wisdom
Which you have made available to us
Enable us to combat, in all forms
Cruelty
Violence
Prejudice
Hatred
Discrimination
The misuse of systems of justice
The spreading of misinformation
Intimidation of opponents due to seeing them as less than human.
We know that You have provided us with the tools and the capacity
To love ourselves, our family, our friends, our neighbors,
and people whom we do not yet know.
When we see love, consideration, and decency disappearing
From our communities, our nation and our world,
May we find a way to take a stand
And to join with others
To preserve love – and peace – within our souls
Within our relationships
And within the unseen but powerful ties
That bind together all human beings with all of Your creation.
Rabbi Larry Karol, rabbi emeritus in Las Cruces, NM

May G-d grant me wisdom
Wisdom to choose carefully
Wisdom to hear all the sides
Wisdom to open my mouth with kindness
Wisdom to protect the widow, the orphan and the stranger
Wisdom to love my neighbor as myself
Wisdom to not stand idly by
Wisdom to allow my need for justice be overruled by compassion

May I know that with this vote
I choose
I choose to vote

I vote for hope
I vote for freedom
And peace
I vote for the earth
And the world
I vote for my neighbors
And the sojourners
I vote for my descendants
I vote with my community
And my nation
I vote for myself,
By myself
I vote.
Rabbi Margaret Frisch Klein

For seven months we have been inside our bubbles, hoping to stem the tide of COVID-19. The last blog post I wrote was on handwashing. (Thanks Trisha Arlin!). So much has happened since then. Rarely did a week go by that I didn’t think about what I would blog. And then someone asked at the High Holy Days what happened to the Engergizer Rabbi. So it’s back. This year or at least through the Book of Genesis, we will look at the chesed, the lovingkindness or kindness that is in the text and how it applies to our own lives. So here we go. Perhaps it is a shehechianu moment. Now if only I knew how to update the home page to include some new things.

The Chesed of Beresit

“In the beginning G-d created the heavens and the earth.” Or if you prefer, “When G-d began to create.” Such familiar language. In six days G-d created heaven and earth and on the 7th day G-d rested. G-d shavat v’yinafash. G-d ceased and rested. Or maybe even better, G-d re-souled, since one meaning of nefesh is soul. In between, in today’s parsha, portion, we learn of two different ways of telling the creation story. Looking at it through the lens of chesed, kindness Is perhaps not obvious. Who illustrates kindness, chesed in this story>?

G-d, in the very act of creating the world and placing human beings in it shows lovingkindness. G-d ,for creating us in G-d’s image. G-d, in created a helpmate for Adam saying that it was not good for an individual to be alone.

There are a couple of midrashim that illustrate my point.

What does it mean that we are created b’tzelm elohim, in the image of G-d. First, we need to see that every person has a spark of the divine in each of us.

“Why was only a single person created first? Therefore the first human being, Adam, was created alone, to teach us that whoever destroys a single life, the Torah considers it as if he destroyed an entire world. And whoever saves a single life, the Torah considers it as if he saved an entire world.” (Sanhedrin 4:5)

The midrash continues, “Furthermore, so no race or class may claim a nobler ancestry, saying, ‘ Furthermore, only one person, Adam, was created for the sake of peace among people, so that no one should say: ‘My father was born first. My father was greater than yours…. and finally, to give testimony to the greatness of the Holy One, who caused the wonderful diversity of humanity from one type. For if people strike many coins from one mold, they all resemble one another, but the King of Kings, the Holy Blessed One, made each person in the image of Adam, and yet not one of them resembles another. And why was Adam created last of all beings? To teach him humility; for if he be overbearing, let him remember that the little fly preceded him in the order of creation.” (Sanhedrin 4:5)

Leo Baeck picks up this idea when he said: “Above all demarcations of races and nations, castes and classes, oppressors and servants, givers and recipients, above all delineations even of gifts and talents stands one certainty: Man. Whoever bears this image is created and called to be a revelation of human dignity.” (Leo Baeck, The Essence of Judaism, rev. ed. [New York: Schocken Books, 1948], p. 152) Abraham Joshua Heschel said similar things when he marched with King and when he participated in a conference in 1963 on Religion and Race. We echo these sentiments every week when we pray for the welfare of our country.

Pirke Avot teaches us: Beloved are humans for we were created in the image of God. Still greater was God’s love in that God gave to us the knowledge of our having been so created. (Pirkei Avot 3:14)

In Psalms we learn: What is humankind, that You are mindful, / human beings, that you pay attention to them? / You have made them little lower than divine. (Psalm 8:5-6)

So how do we act when we know we are created in the image of G-d? How do we protect life itself? We act like G-d. We emulate G-d’s own acts of lovingkindness with our own. Sotah teaches us, using part of our very text this morning:

And Rabbi Chama the son of Rabbi Chanina said, “What is the meaning of the verse, ‘You should walk after the Lord your G-d. (Deuteronomy 13:5)’? Is it possible for a person to walk after the divine presence? And isn’t it already stated, ‘For the Lord your G-d is a consuming fire (Deuteronomy 4:24)’? Rather, To follow the character traits of G-d. “Just as G-d clothes the naked, as it is written, ‘And the Lord G-d made for Adam and his wife cloaks of leather, and G-d clothed them (Genesis 3:21);’ so too you shall clothe the naked. The Holy Blessed One, visited the sick, as it is written, ‘And G-d appeared in Ailonei Mamrei [while Abram was in pain] (Genesis 18:1);’ so too you shall visit the sick. The Holy Blessed One, comforted mourners, as it is written, ‘And it was, after the death of Abraham, and G-d blessed his son Isaac (Genesis 25:11);’ so too you shall comfort mourners. The Holy Blessed One, buried the dead, as it is written, ‘And G-d buried him in the valley (Deuteronomy 34:6);’ so too, you shall bury the dead.”

But it is more than being kind to each other because we are created b’tzelem elohim—although that is good and can be a starting point. We also need to be kind to ourselves. That’s what G-d illustrates by resting on Shabbat. G-d takes that breath, Shabbat, the pause that refreshes. The Sabbath is a gift, a sign of the covenant, that is in the category in modern language of “self-care”. Ahad Ha’am taught that just as Israel has kept the Sabbath, so has the Sabbath kept Israel. Taking time for self-care recognizes that we are each an individual created b’tzelem elohim. Therefore, each of us individually is worthy of being treated with respect and care…and with chesed, love.

That chesed is illustrated by another story from the ancient rabbis:

And all your actions should be for the sake of Heaven, like Hillel. When Hillel left for a place, they would ask him, “where are you going?”
– “I am going to do a mitzvah.”
– “What is the mitzvah?”
– “I am going to the bathroom.”
– “And is this a mitzvah?”
– “Yes, so that the body is not damaged.”

Or:

– “I am going to the bathhouse.”
“And is this a mitzvah?”
– “Yes, in order to clean the body. Know that if someone is appointed to polish and clean the statues of kings they are paid every year, and also respected among the great kings. So we, who are created in the image of God, how much more so?״ (Avot D’ Rabbi Natan 2:30)

So taking the time for self-care—for cleaning ourselves, for exercising, for eating healthy food, for resting and celebrating Shabbat are commanded because we are ourselves, each of us were created b’tzelem elohim and that very behavior is an act of kindness.

Ultimately, we derive three teachings from our verse Genesis. All life is sacred and must be protected, no human is inherently more important than another, and though we may look different from one another, the infinite nature of the Divine means that we are all equally created in the image of God.

There is a poem I want to leave you with from the Israeli poet Yehuda Amichi:

Tourists:
Once I sat on the steps by a gate at David’s Tower,
I placed my two heavy baskets at my side.
A group of tourists was standing around their guide and
I became their target marker.
“You see that man with the baskets?
Just right of his head there’s an arch from the Roman period.
Just right of his head.”
“But he’s moving, he’s moving!”
I said to myself: redemption will come only if their guide tells them,
“You see that arch from the Roman period?
It’s not important: but next to it,
left and down a bit, there sits a man who’s bought fruit and vegetables for his family.”

Yehuda Amichai from the poem Tourist

Remember that we are all created b’tzelem elohim. The person who cleans the stones of the palace or the school or the synagogue, the person who brings vegetables to his family, the person who teaches. And yes, even you, yourself. Remember to be kind. To everyone. Because everyone is created with that divine spark inside.

LORD PREPARE ME  TO BE YOUR SANCTUARY
PURE AND HOLY TRIED AND TRUE
IN THANKSGIVING I’LL BE YOUR LIVING SANCTUARY  FOR YOU

V’ah-soo lee mik-dash v’sha-hantee b’to-ham…
Va-anakhnu n’varaykh Yah may-atah v’ahd olam.

That line v’ah-soo lee mik-dash, v’sha-hantee b’to-ham, is from today’s Torah portion. Make for Me a sanctuary that I may dwell among you. (Exodus 25:8)

Today’s Torah portion is about preparing. It is about preparing for sacred service. It is about building sacred space. It is about brining G-d gifts, terumah, We bring G-d the offerings of our heart. Everyone that so moves him…or her. The text later is actually clear later that the gifts come from both men and women.

We are told to bring gold, silver, copper, blue, red, purple yarn of linen and goat’s hair, tanned ram skins, dolphin skins and acacia wood.

With those gifts, we are ready to start building. What we are building is a sacred space, a safe place where we can meet each other and meet G-d. In the words of our song, becoming a living sanctuary for G-d. A place to meet G-d, to become aware of the presence of the Divine, to become mindful.

How do we prepare for sacred service today? People answered that we open our hearts. We bring our whole being. We open our minds and listen, to the words on the page, to the music, to each other, to the rabbi. We prepare the building. We make sure that there is heat and light and warmth, snow shoveling, food for Kiddush, programs, people who are ready to lead portions of the service

The Israelites built that mishkan that sacred place where they placed the Tablets of the Law, the 10 Commandments, the broken shards of the first set that Moses smashed. Eventually, the Israelites built a more permanent home for those Tablets, that included the Holy of Holies, the Holy Temple in Jerusalem. That too was destroyed. Then it was rebuilt again. The Second Holy Temple.

And yet, Judaism has not died out. We still prepare ourselves for sacred service. We do this in a number of ways. One way, is by building our own homes as mikdash me’at, a little sanctuary. That is the basis of the Friday night home table service—candle lighting, Kiddush, motzi, which we looked at last night. We actually do that every time we eat, by saying blessings.

Many of you know I’ve been teaching a daily online Talmud class called Daf Yomi. Never has Talmud seemed so relevant.

As the Talmud teaches, Rabbi Yohanan and Rabbi Elazar both say: As long as the Temple stood, the altar atoned for Israel’s transgressions. Now that it is destroyed, a person’s table atones for his transgressions.

Part of that table service, in fact every time we eat bread we are commanded to wash our hands. Now that hand washing seems very current. The rabbis of the Talmud knew what our mothers knew and what the CDC is now commanding. Wash Your Hands. Every single time. They even tell us that you shouldn’t shake hands with someone who hasn’t washed their hands. They were so concerned with this basic ritual that they discuss it 345 times in the Talmud. Let that sink in 345 times the rabbis teach us about hand washing.

Bread needed to be eaten in a state of ritual purity, or as Anita Diamant, author of the Red Tent and founder of Mayyim Hayyim Community Mikveh and Education Center, ritual readiness. Because this hand washing is not about cleanliness necessarily—although that is important too. It is about elevating the mundane into something sacred. It is about mindfulness. It is about preparing to enter into a sacred relationship with G-d and with each other. As Chabad explained it, “We are cleansing ourselves of any sense of entitlement, arrogance or complacency. We have bread on the table, but it is G-d’s blessing that brought it to us. We should be humbled and grateful for the dough He provides.” That is part of why when you wash your hands in this ritual you don’t interrupt between washing and reciting motzi, the blessing for bread.

Judaism mandates hand washing before bread. That’s why we are most familiar with hand washing in the Passover seder. In a seder there are actually two hand washings, one towards the beginning without a blessing and one just before eating the matzah. The other times are waking in the morning with the same blessing for washing before bread. Some have the tradition of washing as part of Bikat HaMazon, the grace after meals. In congregations that do the full Birkat Hakohanim, the full priestly benediction, the kohahim doing the blessings wash first. There is no blessing for that. Lastly, we wash our hands after returning from a cemetery.

So how do we wash? The CDC says with soap and water for 20 seconds. There are videos on Youtube if you need a refresher course. Some say that 20 seconds is as long as it takes to sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star (or the ABCs)

For this ritual washing of hands, there are many traditions. My method is to take off my rings—like going to the mikveh there should be nothing between me, the water and G-d. Then I lift the cup and sprinkle three handfuls first on my left and then on my right. The blessing, like all blessings begins, Baruch Atah Adonai, Blessed are You, Lord, Eloheinu Melech Ha’olam, Our G-d, Ruler of the Universe, and since this is something we are commanded, asher kiddishanu b’mitzvotav vitzivanu, who has sanctified us with commandments and commanded us, al nitilat yadaim, on the elevating, raising, washing hands.

Because with this little bit of ritual, of mindfulness, we have elevated the mundane to something special, something holy. We have prepared ourselves for sacred service.

Wash your hands.

Talmud. I hate it. OK, that may be a little strong. I wrestle with it. I struggle with it. I even flunked one semester of Advanced Talmud. It’s archaic. Perhaps misogynistic. But hineini, here I am, studying, even teaching Talmud again.

Why? Partly because as my ritual chair told me, I like to stretch myself. Partly because I was curious again. Partly because at the beginning of January a new cycle of Daf Yomi, page of the day started again. It is a seven and a half year cycle. Partly as a discipline. Partly to test the limits of Facebook. Partly to see what I could get out of it as a woman. Partly because it is what rabbis do; we teach. Partly as a joke—would anyone really want to study Talmud with me? No way!

So here I am, hineini, almost 4 weeks in. One the 4^th chapter and the 27^th page, enjoying Talmud. Probably for the first time. Waxing lyrical about it. The pressure is off. No one is grading this. No comp to pass. No one to impress. Study for study’s own sake, “Torah Lishma.” And surprise, some 38 people on Facebook are studying right along with me.

Here’s where it is good. Facebook has enabled us all to “meet”. This is a very diverse group of people. Some Jewish. Some not. Some rabbis, cantors, Jewish educators. Some lay people. A variety of careers. Some based in Elgin. Some spread all over the country. Some men. Some women.

And it seems to me, it is very rabbinic. The rabbis of the Talmud had “conversations” through the centuries. We are having “conversations” across all those groupings. And it is very rich. We are also finding ways to make it relevant to 2020. Recently on page 19a we were in a heating discussion (because that’s what the rabbis do, heatedly discuss, even argue) about whether you can say ill of the dead. Some said yes, if carefully crafted. Others said no, G-d would not want us to say anything bad about someone who died. Then Kobe Bryant was killed in the helicopter crash and there was a lot of discussion about his “complicated legacy” as one article put it. Wow! There seemed to be a national debate of just what we were studying.

Earlier we debated whether it mattered if we said the right blessing over beer or wine, as I was sipping a Riesling. Can we pray in a porta-potty at a race? Can we interrupt our prayers to greet someone who comes to the synagogue late? Does it matter their status or what part of the service you are in.

I don’t know if this can last for seven and a half years. I don’t even know if Facebook will be around that long or we’ll have to use a new technology. But for now, I am enjoying it. 38 other people know more about Talmud then they did when we all started. Including me. You can too. It is not too late to join us. You don’t need Hebrew or Aramaic or any other prerequisite. We are doing it in English through sefaria.org. Go to Facebook. Search for Rabbi Margaret’s Talmud Daf Yomi Group. I’ll be there.

This is Martin Luther King, jr Weekend and it is also what has become the annual Women’s March. It is also the 24^th yahrzeit of my father, Donald Frisch. This is going to be a hard sermon. One that actually made me cry as I was writing it. Not because of the yahrzeit, but maybe.

Let’s go on a walk. I want to show you some photos. Including two of my rabbi, Rabbi Everett Gendler. Jews were at the forefront, literally the front lines of the Civil Rights movement. Because Jews understood that if there is persecution of one group, there could be persecution of any group, including Jews. We knew this all too well. Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, a professor at Jewish Theological Seminary said about marching with King that he felt his feet were praying.

Simon is not here this morning because he is “praying” the prayer for peace at Elgin’s annual Martin Luther King, jr Prayer Breakfast. That same prayer he leads us in responsively, that ends with the famous quote from Isaiah, that I hear in Martin Luther King’s voice. “Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.” What you may not know, that translation is Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel’s translation.

It was also Heschel who said at a conference on race and religion who said, “At the first conference on religion and race, the main participants were Pharaoh and Moses. Moses’ words were: “Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel, let My people go that they may celebrate a feast to Me.” While Pharaoh retorted: “Who is the Lord, that I should heed this voice and let Israel go? I do not know the Lord, and moreover I will not let Israel go. The outcome of that summit meeting has not come to an end. Pharaoh is not ready to capitulate. The exodus began, but is far from having been completed. In fact, it was easier for the children of Israel to cross the Red Sea than for a Negro to cross certain university campuses.” https://voicesofdemocracy.umd.edu/heschel-religion-and-race-speech-text/

Folks, we are STILL NOT THERE YET. There is still not justice. Not equality. Not voting rights–which is the theme of this year’s breakfast. But there is not memory either. Those very pictures we went to see. Not part of the movie Selma.

I want to talk about just one phrase in this week’s parsha, portion. “There arose in Egypt a ruler who knew not Joseph.” And because he didn’t know Joseph and Joseph’s contributions, he enslaved the Israelites, fearing that this people who had grown mighty in number might make war on the Egyptians.

He knew not Joseph. Much of my adult life, much of my rabbinate can be described as building bridges between peoples who don’t know one another well or at all. Whether it was a class I taught at Tufts on Jewish-Christian Relations or the undergraduate internship I had with American Jewish Committee or the founding of The Merrimack Valley Project or other social justice activities, it has been about making sure that others knew Jews and that we were working for a world that supported the widow, the orphan, the stranger. There is a long history of working for systemic change, of finding my voice and speaking out.

Now my father, he loved the ethics and the history of Judaism. We spent many weekends working on civil rights and attending rallies in Evanston and living out his Jewish values. Not so much the theology. That is a sermon for another time. But having been born in 1933, the same year that Hitler came to power, he was very afraid of being visible as Jews. He was a bundle of contradictions, since he never denied being Jewish and we always had students for the Jewish holidays who had no place else to go. However, he was never happy with my decision to be a rabbi. Too public. Too visible. I would just be the first target.

I had another approach. Even before becoming a rabbi. I have spoken out, spoken up, engaged, build bridges. We wouldn’t fall into the trap of “a new ruler arose who knew not Joseph.” It turns out that there is an actual psychological term for this. “Interpersonal Contact Theory.” In rabbinical school, I had a whole class on Israeli-Palestinian Relations, taught by a Muslim and an Israeli. Much of the reading was on this theory. The academic research was disappointing, I felt. It wasn’t clear whether it works. But many organizations try it, including Seeds of Peace which brings Israeli and Palestinian youth to a summer camp in Maine. It has been featured in many articles and one of the organizations that I have given some tzedakah to.

As part of her research for a PhD in psychology at the Univeristy of Chicago, Juliana Schoeder studied Seeds of Peace. As she reported:

At the beginning and end of camp, the campers reported their feelings toward the other group, as well as some of their political attitudes and attitudes toward the peace process, rating their opinions on a scale of one to seven. From pre-camp to post-camp, we found that Israeli and Palestinian teenagers alike reported feeling more positive toward, close with, similar to and trusting of the other side. On average, for all of these questions, the teenagers moved up almost a full point on the scale from where they started, a statistically significant change. They also reported feeling more optimistic about the likelihood of peace and more committed to working for peace, and they expressed a greater intention to participate in other peace intervention programs. Four different sets of campers have consistently shown the same pattern of outcomes. Critics of such programs suggest that there is a “re-entry problem”: that any positive effect of the encounter will vanish when participants return to normal life. We therefore sent campers a follow-up survey one year after they returned home, asking them again about their attitudes. We found the participants’ attitudes did regress over time, but not enough to eliminate a positive effect. Even a year after the camp had ended, the Israelis and Palestinians who were surveyed still felt more positive about the other group than they did before the camp. https://www.seedsofpeace.org/peace-through-friendship-new-york-times/

There is no question in my mind that we are better together. That building bridges works. We are a small congregation. We can collect canned goods, help at occasional soup kettles, show up at a vigil, host national night out. But if we really want to make a difference. To really love our neighbors as ourselves, to take care of the widow, the orphan and the stranger, which our tradition demands, we need to work for systemic change. That’s hard. And we can’t do it alone. We need to build those bridges. Perhaps one of the hardest things I have ever done is my work with the Elgin Police Department around racism. Begun before Ferguson, it is difficult, often heart-wrenching work that I feel I need to be involved in for the long haul.

This weekend also marks the fourth year of the Women’s March. There is not one in Elgin today. I was a proud organizer of the first two Elgin Standing Together. We started that first one at a Women on the Brink meeting and I was a behind the scenes organizer. It was fabulous. And today’s portion was the same one that cold, blustery day. Today’s portion also talks about Shifra and Puah. They have a bit part in Torah. They were the midwives that defied Pharaoh’s order. It was an act of civil disobedience. When asked why the baby boys still lived, they said that the Israelite women were so vigorous, they gave birth before the midwives could even arrive.

So that cold afternoon—because Elgin Standing Together was an afternoon event to accommodate my Shabbat observance. I was not scheduled to speak, but was so taken with Shifrah and Puah that morning, I took the mike out of the mayor’s hand and did a very short d’var Torah. It was powerful. It felt like I was living out Psalm 30, a Psalm for the Dedication of the Temple:

What profit if I am silenced. What benefit if I go to my grave in the pit? Will the dust praise You? Will it proclaim Your truth and faithfulness?

Last year we decided not to do another Elgin Standing Together. The principle organizers were tired. The event would conflict with Martin Luther King, jr Weekend. And there were increasing charges of anti-semitism at the highest ranks of the Women’s March. Too much for me to take the full lead. This year, no one in Elgin even asked, although there is one today in Geneva and in Woodstock as well as Chicago. The underlying issues are still very real. There are still systemic changes that need to happen. As a woman, as a rabbi and especially as a women’s rabbi, I continue to speak out about women’s health care, women’s pay, domestic violence and rape, just not with the Women’s March.

There is another term that is important in the discussion. Intersectionality. Coined in 1989 by Kimberlé Crenshaw to explain the discrimination of African-American women. Based on a case in 1976 between Emma DeGraffenreid and several other black women and General Motors, “arguing that the company segregated its workforce by race and gender: Blacks did one set of jobs and whites did another. According to the plaintiffs’ experiences, women were welcome to apply for some jobs, while only men were suitable for others. This was of course a problem in and of itself, but for black women the consequences were compounded. You see, the black jobs were men’s jobs, and the women’s jobs were only for whites. Thus, while a black applicant might get hired to work on the floor of the factory if he were male; if she were a black female she would not be considered. Similarly, a woman might be hired as a secretary if she were white, but wouldn’t have a chance at that job if she were black. Neither the black jobs nor the women’s jobs were appropriate for black women, since they were neither male nor white.  Wasn’t this clearly discrimination, even if some blacks and some women were hired?”Sadly, the court dismissed the DeGraffenreid’s claims, asserting that black women are unable to combine their race and gender claims into one.” https://www.forbes.com/sites/emiliearies/2017/08/30/the-imperative-of-intersectional-feminism/#661ed2271914

We see the difficulties of intersectionality play out today. With the Women’s March. With the Dyke March in Chicago when the Jewish group carrying a rainbow flag with a Star of David were asked to leave because that flag, similar to an Israeli flag might be triggering to Palestinians. In policing where multi-racial Jews are afraid of police brutality and yet synagogues are hiring more and more police officers.

My approach remains the same. We see others returning to it. When we see booths set up in New York by the Orthodox community, “Meet a Jew, Make a Friend” in neighborhoods like East Harlem.” I believe that we are safer here in Elgin because we have been visible. Because people have met other Jews. I believe we will not return to a time where “a ruler arose who knew not Joseph.” I believe we need to continue to speak out, just like Shifrah and Puah. Then as King and Heschel taught, “Justice will roll down like water, and righteousness as a mighty stream.”

Update:
Sunday was Torah School, just like always. We are in the middle of a kindness campaign. After making havdalah with the kids, I asked what they knew about Martin Luther King. I took them to see the pictures on the bulletin board of the rabbis, including Heschel and Gendler who marched with King. Then we made posters with verses from Torah about lovingkindness and we had our own indoor march so we could pray with our feet. It was one of the most meaningful King celebrations I have ever participated in.

It is January 6. I am sitting in one of my favorite coffee shops. It has been declared #JewishAndProud Day by American Jewish Committee.

So many thoughts as I sit here studying Talmud, wearing my Guatemalan kippah that I bought right here in Elgin. It was part of what solidified my coming to Elgin. They had fair trade Guatemalan kippot in the gift shop. I broke my own rules and bought one.

It is true that I have a kippah to match almost every outfit. And many times, as a woman rabbi many times people don’t even realize I am wearing a kippah. They just think it is some fancy headpiece.

Why is this important. Because I can. Because after the mass shootings in Pittsburgh, members of my own congregation got nervous about me wearing a kippah in public. I might put all of us in danger. But I met with each of my coffee shops. Diane and Brian at Arabica, Kathleen and Chris at Blue Box and Gregg at Starbucks. Each of them said, some variation on “Yes, please wear your kippah. You are safe here.” Well, one thought the Energizer Rabbi peace one with the sparkly studs might be a bit flashy.

Now we all know there is no guarantee of safety anywhere. It only takes one crazy person to interrupt the calm. But as I sit here in the first of many locations, not a nasty word has been said to me.

It hasn’t always been so. Jews have been persecuted for thousands of years. Sometimes even forced to wear a head covering to identify them. In World War II, Jews had to wear a yellow star with the word Jude, Jew written in the center. Their passports were stamped and their legal names were changed to include Sara for women and Israel for men.

My own Sarah, whose birthday is today, once had an issue in public school in the 90s. A girls told her that if Sarah were Jewish she couldn’t be her friend. We were a little stunned. Later that year, Sarah chose to read the Diary of Anne Frank for Biography Day. It was right around Halloween and it was how some of the older grades got around celebrating without celebrating. Each kid had to dress as their character. Oh why couldn’t my kid have picked Michelle Kwan like every other girl in class? We wrestled with how Sarah would dress. Would she wear a yellow star and sit at her desk all day like that?

We talked to her principal who didn’t think there would be any issues. We talked to a good friend who was a Holocaust survivor who figured out a way to do it. Anne Frank didn’t have to wear a star when she was in school. That law hadn’t been enacted before the Jewish kids were expelled from school. Why not, in order to make the point, make a star out of felt and pin it on. If she felt uncomfortable at all she could just unpin it.

In fact that is just what she did. Without any problems.May that always be so!

I sit here with my kippah on proudly. In the large picture window, without any fear or remorse. Proudly, wonderfully Jewish. And yet, I have the ability to take off my kippah if I were to so choose. Today I choose to sit here and wear it. Proudly, wonderfully Jewish.

This is a dreidle. One that we purchased in the late 1960s on Devon Avenue in Chicago. It is six sided. Israeli because it has a peh for poh. A great miracle happened here.

The “extra sides” have a menorah on them and the way I remember it, if you land on that, you get to spin again.

This year I was selected to be a principal for the day in U-46. I was at O’Neal, not far from here. I learned lots that day watching the principal, Marcie Marzullo, and her team. She greeted every student by name in the hall at the beginning of school. Her door is open, always, on two sides. She uses a standing desk. And she is visible, a lot of the day. I learned about the Legend of Old Befana, but that is a story for another time.

Together we visited most of the classrooms. I danced to the Nutcracker with a parachute in Miss Lila’s music class. I taught “Albuquerque is a Turkey” in a kindergarten cl ass. What the principal really wanted me to do is teach about Chanukah in her first grade classes. There were four dual language first grades. I chose a simple book, A Turn For Noah, about celebrating Chanukah in school and being frustrated that his turn to light the menorah hadn’t happened. Like Jewish parents in many schools, I brought dreidles for each child, so every child would have a turn to spin.

In the very first class, the teacher excitedly went to her desk to show us all what she called a “Tomo Todo”, a top that has the Spanish words for the rules of the dreidle game on each of the six sides. The kids immediately saw the connection. For me, it was breath-taking.

Elgin is 47% Hispanic. Every year I have a couple of people come to my office to discuss their possible Jewish roots. Someone might light candles on Friday. Some one might have the tradition of fasting on some day in September. Others have never eaten pork or only eat flat bread at Easter. Earlier in the year the CKI book group read Jewish Pirates of the Caribbean, that illustrates how Jews arrived in the New World, all the way back to Columbus. The Jerusalem Post featured a story that 25% of Hispanics and Latinos may have Jewish DNA. https://www.jpost.com/Magazine/Genetic-research-almost-25-percent-of-Latinos-Hispanics-have-Jewish-DNA-581959

There are other books as well. Kveller recently featured a story about the book Recipes of My 15 Grandmothers, about a woman who was born in Cuba in a Catholic family and can now trace her roots all the way back to pre-Spanish Inquisition Spain. She has now formally converted to Judaism and I am reading her other book, My 15 Grandmothers.

So what is this top? Is it a dreidle or just as the other name in Spanish, La Pirinola?

The history of the dreidle is shielded in some mystery. It was most likely a gambling game that the rabbis sanctioned that when they were not allowed to teach Torah openly during the Roman occupation, they could teach the miracle of Chanukah. “A great miracle happened there.” La Pirinola also has a history dating back to ancient Rome. https://www.spanishplayground.net/toma-todo-game-la-pirinola/

This site will also give you a translation of the words and a stencil with which you can make your own tomo todo, pirinola.

The earliest Pirinola in Central America seem to date to the early 1500s. Were these really dreidles used by “hidden Jews” to celebrate Chanukah? Who knows? But it is interesting to speculate about. I am most grateful to that teacher at O’Neal for introducing me to the Tomo Todo.

Learning about how to celebrate Chanukah in Latin America has proven to be interesting. A more quiet affair than here in the United States, celebrations feature a piñata shaped like a dreidle (one of which Peg, Simon and I made for our Oneg Shabbat table), fried food of various sorts and lighting the menorah. On the sixth night, which is tonight, there is also a special celebration of Rosh Hodesh, the new month. Luna Nueva. The Hanukkah Moon, which is now the name of another Chanukah children’s book.

It seemed especially apt to talk about Rosh Hodesh this year. The codes are very clear. It is not only permissible but encouraged for women to light Chanukah candles. In fact the codes go on to say that But this year one of the chief rabbis in Israel declared it is not. Rosh Hodesh is a half-holiday for women and the Talmud clearly states in Shabbat 23a, for Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi said: The [mitzva of the] Chanukah candle is obligatory upon women, for they too were part of that miracle. In fact in later codes, women are exempt from working while the Chanukah candles are burning.

Later in the service, when our music director played his lovely setting of Ahavat Olam that leads into the Sh’ma, the proclamation that G-d is one, I had goosebumps. I listened to his playing which has often sounded like a heart beat to me, and I realized that the Maccabees had fought for that very right to sing the Sh’ma. To not go underground. That is what the dreidle and la pirinola are really about. Not being hidden. Being able to practice our Judaism wherever we are. In Israel, in ancient Rome, or right here in Elgin. May this be a season of light and proud visibility, no longer hidden, like the history of the dreidle.

Last night was a shehechianu moment. More than one actually. Last night was the first night of Chanukah in our new house. It was the first Chanukah Sarah and her boyfriend were together. Those are both worth a Shehechianu. But something else happened last night that was important.

Last night I spoke at a Chabad event. Let me say that again. Last night, I, a woman rabbi, spoke words of Torah at a Chabad event.

This has been a difficult year for the Jewish community. We have been confronted with violent anti-semitism. Since last Chanukah, there have been two deadly attacks on Jews—one at Passover at the Chabad in Poway, CA and one just last week at a kosher grocery in Jersey City, NJ. There have been countless acts of vandalism, physical attacks and threats. Actually organizations like the FBI, Homeland Security and the ADL track such acts. The numbers are grim. Anti-semitism is on the rise. On the left and the right.

I have been the rabbi in Elgin for seven years. So has Rabbi Mendel Shem Tov. We came to Elgin the same time. For seven years he has hosted an event in the city of Elgin, with the full participation of the mayor, the fire department and the police department. Many of my congregants attend. Some years I go. Other years I don’t. It confuses people, both elected officials and my congregants when I am not there.

This year, sometime after Poway, we planned early. And then we forgot. Last week I texted him that “I would love to participate and do some small part. A poem, a story, even a song.” and got an immediate response. “Absolutely”.

I tried to write my own poem. But my daughter said, correctly, that it was too dark. That poem maybe available later. I’ll rework it. But I needed something and so I went hunting again and found something better.

So last night found me at the Centre of Elgin, shoulder to shoulder with other Jews—of all kinds, watching a menorah be carved in ice, listening to the kids shout with glee as the fire department dropped gelt from the hook and ladder, and speaking, just after the mayor and the police chief and ahead of the lighting of that ice menorah. Stunningly beautiful.

This is what I said:

I didn’t know much about Chabad growing up in a small Midwestern town, not unlike Elgin. There was a Chabad but they were always separate and not much like us. The police chief talked about “an incident” last year. That was at a Chabad in Poway, CA and while the chief was away at the time, she immediately had squad cars at CKI, before we even knew what had happened. We cannot thank the Elgin Police Department enough.

This past year, the CKI book group read Teluskin’s The Rebbe about Rabbi Menachem Schneerson. I was impressed with just how much of what I do as a rabbi comes out of what he taught. Out of his vision. My dollar project I do with the kids that I learned at NewCAJE, Jewish summer camps, giving a mezuzah to every bride and groom, baking challah on Rosh Hodesh. So much. So for that I am grateful.

I am grateful for tonight. That we can stand here shoulder to shoulder. That the mayor and the police chief and the fire department bless us with their presence. Being visible, being proudly Jewish is the best way to combat the fear and hatred. Your presence, all of our presence, together brings light. For the idea that the light we kindle tonight comes from deep within—another idea of the rebbe. Not unique to the rebbe as we learned about it as well last week from Apostle Larry Henderson at the Kingdom Advancement Center. I thank the rabbi for his graciousness and his leadership. And I offer this poem of Alden Solovy:

Lamps Within

A lamp glows inside your heart,
With eight ways to light it,
Eight ways to keep it shining,
Eight ways to keep its glow.

Light it with your joy.
Light it with your tears.
Light it with this song.
Light it with the works of your hands.
Light it with hope.
Light it with service.
Light it with this prayer.
Light it with praise to God’s Holy Name.

Bring the lamp of your soul out into the street
So that all who have forgotten
The miracles around us
Will remember the beauty within,
So that all who have forgotten
The miracles of old
Will remember to rejoice.

A lamp glows inside your children.
Keep it shining.
Watch it glow.

Light it with your joy.
Light it with your tears.
Light it with song.
Light it with the works of your hands.
Light it with hope.
Light it with service.
Light it with prayer.
Light it with praise to God’s Holy Name.

© 2017 CCAR Press from This Grateful Heart: Psalms and Prayers for a New Day

 The light does shines brightly in Elgin. It is up to each of us to bring it forth.

Today I got out the Chanukah boxes. Somehow, through the decades they have grown to four large plastic tubs. We own something like 30 menorot. Some from my parents, some that we made as kids, some that our kids made. Some from every period in our lives. My little girl menorah from the apartment in New York. One our neighbors gave us in Evanston. My first menorah in college. Our first menorah when we were married. Our first home. The one I bought for my not-yet baby who was supposed to be born during Chanukah and was not. (More on that one later.) A modern oil lamp I bought our first year in Elgin. In fact, I am looking for a new one to represent this important year for us, for the new “Lake House.”

One of my favorite chanukiot is a large one I bought in Philadelphia. I was working for SAP the large German software company headquartered in Waldorf, Germany. I had flown from Waldorf to Newtown Square, PA, its North American headquarters. It was Chanukah time and my flight to Boston was delayed. I wandered into the US Constitution Museum Gift Shop and found this replica of an 18^th Century, Silver (plated) Early American Menorah. I bought it. Beyond my budget. After all I was in the shadow of the Liberty Bell with its message of “Proclaim liberty throughout the land.” After all, I can quote the letter of George Washington to the Hebrew Congregation of Newport, RI. “To bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance,” which continues with the hope that “every one shall sit in safety under his own vine and figtree, and there shall be none to make him afraid.” After all, I was an American Studies major with a speciality in colonial American History, focused on the Puritans and the witch trials. The real witch trials.

After all, I am an American. Period.

Our obligation as Jews is to publicize the miracle of the oil that lasted for eight days. (Even if we think that other miracles were even more important, like this ragtag band of Maccabees were able to reclaim the Holy Temple and to fight against assimilation). Our obligation is to place the chanukiah outside in a courtyard for all to see when they are returning from the marketplace. (Shabbat 21b) Our obligation, according to Hillel is to keep adding light, one each night to increase our light and our joy at this darkest time of year.

Except in a period of danger.

So what to do this year? Some have argued that this is a time of danger. The rising anti-semitism could easily suggest that. However, the codes are clear. A time of danger is described as a time when the authorities actively prohibit the lighting of chanukiot. We are not at that point. That is not to minimize the fear that the rising anti-semitism has caused. It is not to be polyannish or naïve. Sadly, these are scary times. I feel it too. Deeply.

Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg and I were on a similar discussion. Her Washington Post op-ed is worth the read. https://www.washingtonpost.com/outlook/2019/12/18/hanukkah-calls-jews-light-darkness-this-year-we-need-it-even-more/

The picture, which I had never seen of the menorah in the window with the Nazi flag displayed on the other side of the street, photographed in 1932 from the Yad V’shem collection is chilling.

In my reading of many books on anti-semitism, including two this year, First the Jews by Rabbi Evan Moffic and How to Fight Anti-semitism, by Bari Weiss, the best solution seems to be not cowering. Live your Judaism loud and proud. Be out there. Display your menorah, proudly.

Others will join us. That is an important message of Chanukah, too.

One of my favorite Chanukah books is The Christmas Menorahs: How a Town Fought Hate. In Billings, MT one year, a rock was thrown through a window of a house celebrating Chanukah. The response of the town, driven in large part by the local paper, was to stand in solidarity with the family and the Jewish people. Every home wound up displaying a menorah, much like the Jews of Denmark who wore a yellow star. This story from Billings is not ancient history. It was 1993. This book is an important way to start this very discussion.

In Elgin, we have many opportunities to come together as a community. At Winter Wonderland, at the Chabad celebration at the Centre, at CKI, in individual homes. Gail Borden Public Library has a display as do many schools, hospitals, nursing homes. Generally, I feel safe in Elgin. Respected. Valued. Appreciated.

This year, I have an opportunity to do exactly that in a way I have not before. In our new house, the front porch is an alcove. It is almost like a courtyard. So each night, we will place a menorah outside for all the world to see. Or at least my little corner of Elgin. Starting with my Early American one.

Early this fall I got a phone call from a trusted colleague. An African-American pastor from a neighboring church had received a gift. Of a chanukiah. “Do you have a Temple Menorah? We don’t have a use for a nine-branched menorah. We don’t celebrate Chanukah.” I assured him we did have two! And I raced over to see his new chanukiah. We agreed to arrange a swap.

This Friday night, we dedicated both candelabras for sacred service. It was part of our regular Friday night Kabbalat Shabbat service. It was also Human Rights Shabbat and a week before Chanukah, which means dedication.

When we planned this service, with a focus on light, we didn’t know how much we would need a service. It was a difficult week for the Jewish community. Rising, violent anti-semitism was evident in an attack at a kosher grocery store in Jersey City, NJ left six people dead. The president’s executive order on anti-semitism had Jews arguing about the role of the government plays in defining anti-semitism and who is a Jew. To say nerves were frayed might be an understatement.

But Shabbat came, like it does every week, offering the gift of calm and peace, if we are able to receive it. We met in the sanctuary and read the Psalm of the Dedication of the Sanctuary, Psalm 30. We sang songs about light—Or Zarua, Light is sown for the righteous and joy for the upright of heart. Or Chadash, Let a new light shine upon Zion. “This little light of mine.” “Lord, prepare me to be a sanctuary.”

I had pre-lit Shabbat candles and one shamash, the helper candle in each menorah. We blessed the candles with the reading from the old Union Prayer Book. “Light is the symbol of the divine.” And se sang boldly: “Light one candle for the Maccabee people, give thanks that their light didn’t die.”

Apostle Larry gave a brief sermon on racism—and why each of us has to be the light. He talked about the triangle of Prejudice, Discrimination and Racism that is outlined in the book White Fragility. And he talked about the power structure of Exodus Chapter 1. Pharaoh who enslaved the Israelites. Pharaoh who wanted to kill every newborn Israelite boy. Pharaoh who was black, who had prejudice against the Israelites, who didn’t really know them, who then discriminated against them and used his power to institutionalize that discrimination. That’s racism.

I spoke briefly about Exodus Chapter 25 and building a mishkan, a wandering tabernacle full of beauty, a place to meet G-d, where the offerings of our hearts will be accepted. Where we ourselves become klei kodesh, holy vessels, just like the menorah.

We ended the service by singing Olam Chesed Yibeneh, You shall build this world with love, a text from the Psalms arranged by my friend and colleague Rabbi Menachem Creditor. It truly was an evening of Unity on Division Street and just what this rabbi needed.

This is the tale of two menorot. But even more so, it is the tale of two communities. Kingdom Advancement Center and their leadership team have worked with CKI on important things like National Night Out, distributing food with the mobile food pantry and bringing the Gail Borden Public Library Book Mobile to our corner of Division Street.

More importantly, their leaders have been thoughtful and careful partners with us in the aftermath of the police shooting that occurred in March of 2018. Once a month a few select leaders meet with the police chief and her command staff to talk about really difficult topics. Racism. Mental Health. Parenting. Gun violence. Healing. Forgiveness. (We’re not there yet.) Police policies and procedures. We spent a long Sunday afternoon on the shooting range seeing demos of equipment—a robot, a bat (that’s an armored vehicle and it is not used for what you think it might be.), a rope, pepper guns that they practice with baby powder, a 40 MM, and some life sized video scenarios. When I tried my hand at it, I was shot dead in 32 seconds. By a white guy in a white hoodie. Oy!

We are working our way through some books, On Killing, White Fragility, Emotional Intelligence 2.0. Just this week, at our monthly meeting, I gave everyone a copy of the Sunflower. This is hard, deep work. Painstakingly slow. Bridges are being built as trust is regained over mac and cheese and black and white cookies. Last month, we all ate corned beef together.

It would be impossible to capture the nuance of some of the conversations that happen at the police station. It is even more difficult to capture what happened after the service were able. People stayed and stayed and stayed. There was genuine warmth. And light. And food. And dreidels.

Two menorot. Two communities. Two meanings.

In the words of “Light One Candle,” “Don’t let the light go out.” I don’t think it will.