The word puzzles continue this week. Hod, the theme for the week, the trait we are studying, means thanks. Or knowledge. Or humility. Or maybe even splendor or beauty. Or all of them. That’s nuance.

It is the root of words, Modah/Modeh, Modim and Todah. That part seems simple. Although it might make have to explain what a mem preformative is in order to make the connection between a word that begins with hey and one that begins with mem. Just trust me for now.

Last week we studied netzach, sometimes translated as endurance. Simon Jacobson says that “if endurance is the engine of life, humility is its fuel. As gevurah, (discipline) give chesed (love) focus, hod gives netzach direction.”

OK, I am still lost. How is hod both gratitude and humility? How can hod, either definition give netzach direction?

Moses was humble—but the Hebrew there is ana which can also mean poor. My mother’s favorite verse was from Micah, “What does G-d require of you? To do justice, to love mercy and to walk humbly with your G-d.” But that Hebrew is tz’nia, modesty. So we are still in a word puzzle here.

Jacobson helps, some…

“Humility is the silent partner of endurance. Its strength is in its silence. Its splendor in its repose. Humility leads to yielding, which is an essential element of Humility – and the resulting yielding – should not be confused with weakness and lack of self-esteem.

Humility is modesty; it is acknowledgement (from the root “hoda’ah”). It is saying “thank you” to G-d. It is clearly recognizing your qualities and strengths and acknowledging that they are not your own; they were given to you by G-d for a higher purpose than just satisfying your own needs. Humility is modesty; it is recognizing how small you are which allows you to realize how large you can become. And that makes humility so formidable…A full cup cannot be filled. When you’re filled with yourself and your needs, “I and nothing else”, there is no room for more. When you “empty” yourself before something which is greater than yourself, you allow in much more than your limited capacity. Humility is the key to transcendence; to reach beyond yourself.”

This then is the counterbalance to narcissism. In order to be thankful you need to see a world beyond yourself, you need to be humble. It is not a lowering of yourself. It is not a question of pridefulness.

When I stand before the ark leading the congregation in prayer, I take a moment to look up and read the sign that says, “Da Lifnei Atah Omeid. Know before whom you stand.” It is a humbling moment. When I daven “modim anachnu lach, we thank you G-d.” I read the words while trying to find at least one thing I am especially thankful for.

In the last year of rabbinical school I had a professor that didn’t think Jews expressed gratitude enough. The entire class argued with him, saying that Jews are supposed to say 100 blessings a day and that is a form of gratitude. Our prayer books are full of things we are grateful for. The list seems unending, much more than the 100.

In the Pathways program we are using from Alan Moranis it suggests sitting for an hour and writing a list of things you are personally grateful for. He says the first 15 minutes will fly by. The second 15 will be harder. The last 15 will be excruciating. Not willing to ask my congregants to do something I haven’t tried, I sat for an hour. He was exactly right. First 15 minutes were easy. Second 15 minutes were harder but I went back and if I had said I was thankful for friends, I must easily have 100 friends I am thankful for and it brought be pleasure to recall each one by name. Another exercise he had suggested was being aware of all the steps needed to make a cookie and then savor the cookie. It reminded me of the old Girl Scout grace, “Back of the bread is the flour and back of the flour is the mill and back of the mill is the wind and the rain and the Father’s will.” And I can be grateful for each of those, and the farmer, the baker, the truck driver, the grocery store and on and on it goes.

Yet, I struggle some with the Moranis text…and maybe that is the point of Mussar in general. He begins by telling the story of Itzhak Perlman who is debilitated by polio and yet can make beautiful music. (for which I am grateful). At one concert a string broke and instead of stopping the concert and replacing the string, he kept playing, with passion, artistry and beauty. At the end he said, You know,” he said, “it is the artist’s task to make beautiful music with what you have left.” Whether he was talking about his violin that night or his own body was left unclear. Our challenge, according to Moranis is to recognize the good (hakarat hatov), even when bad things happen.

And that is where Rabbi Harold Kushner comes in. Kushner wrote a book, “When Bad Things Happen to Good People.” Note carefully, as I have said before, it is not Why bad things happen…sometimes it is impossible to explain, the title is when bad things happen. The challenge what do we do with it once it happens, because in every person’s life some bad will happen.

Mussar demands of us that we are grateful for everything. And I am not sure I can get there. Do I have to be grateful for gun violence? For murders? For murders? For Rapits? For politicians who can’t pass a state budget? For a health care system that seems only out to make a dollar and not make people healthy? How do I resolve the morning blessing, “Yotzer Or…who forms light and creates darkness, who makes peace and creates all things.” ALL things? Can I find the Divine spark within? I am not going to lie. Sometimes it is difficult.

But there is more…and a reward for sticking with this topic.

Moranis reminds us of a story from Rabbi Nachman of Breslov. He tells us that “Gratitude can’t coexist with arrogance, resentment and selfishness. Gratitude rejoices with her sister joy, and is always ready to light a candle and have a party. Gratitude doesn’t much like the old cronies of boredom, despair and taking life for granted.” No arrogance. My hunch about narcissism seems to be right.

This is a verse I know…because I studied this very verse coming out of a dark period in my own life. The president of the Academy for Jewish Religion gave me this verse. Partly because while Rabbi Nachman wrote extensively about joy, he struggled with depression, and partly because my middle name is joy. In Hebrew, like English, there are many words for joy: simcha, (my Hebrew name), gila, rina, sasson, chedvah, asher. Each has a different nuance.

Simcha carries with it a sense of passion. Psalms 100:2 say we should serve G-d with gladness, with joy, with simcha. In Berachot 60b, it says that one is obligated to accept Divine judgment and praise G-d even when bad things happen. (back to my challenge with Yotzer Or), and one must do it with joy, with simcha. Rashi was bothered by this too and says that the meaning of simcha here is “with a complete heart.” It starts to make sense. What does simcha as joy mean in the context of misfortune because responding with joy seems incongruous. However, can we accept it with a complete heart, one with emet (truth) and emumah (faith), even if we don’t understand the why? We can do this while still not being happy with the loss or having to go through the bad experience or being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Being able to reach this level, to respond with a ‘full heart,” a heart of full of gratitude is what mussar is about. It is what humility is about. And it comes from finding passion. The more passionate you are about what you are doing, the more joy you will feel. With passion and gratitude comes joy. The more passion, the more joy.

Frederick Buechner said, “The place G-d calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” Here again we see the connection between passion and joy. So find something you are passionate about and you will find joy.

Lest you think it is just me saying this, I recently led an article written by a neuroscientist. Four rituals that will make you happier.

http://www.businessinsider.com/a-neuroscience-researcher-reveals-4-rituals-that-will-make-you-a-happier-person-2015-9

One of them is practicing gratitude. “One powerful effect of gratitude is that it can boost serotonin. Trying to think of things you are grateful for forces you to focus on the positive aspects of your life. This simple act increases serotonin production in the anterior cingulate cortex.”

So try writing out what you are thankful for. Find 100 blessings. Add a new one each day. Find just one thing you are thankful for even in the midst of tragedy or loss. Cultivate an attitude of gratitude. In doing so, you just might find more happiness.

“Proclaim Liberty Throughout the Land to all the inhabitants thereof.” (Lev XXV:10). These are part of today’s Torah portion. And, they appear on the “Liberty Bell” in Pennsylvania.

How nice that this year at least they are the words that we Jews read as sacred scripture for Memorial Day Weekend. It gives us the opportunity to pause, to reflect and to consider what these central words mean to us as Americans and as Jews. As Jewish Americans or American Jews.

It turns out, there is very little Jewish commentary on them. They seem to be pretty self-explanatory. Rashi has one comment but there isn’t that usual question hanging in the air, “What’s bothering Rashi?” He points out that this liberty was especially for slaves during the Jubilee year.

AND YE SHALL PROCLAIM LIBERTY unto slaves, both to him whose ear has been pierced (and whose period of servitude has thus been prolonged until the Jubilee; cf. Exodus 21:6) and to him whose six years of servitude (the period prescribed for an ordinary Hebrew servant; Exodus 21:6 Exodus 21:2), reckoning from the time when he was sold, have not yet ended. R. Jehuda said, “What is the etymology of the term דרור, freedom? A free man is like a person who may dwell (דור) at an inn — meaning that he may reside in any place he pleases, and is not under the control of others. (דרור therefore implies liberty of residence) (Rosh Hashanah 9b). (Rashi on Lev 25:10)

For me, this verse is something of a word puzzle, and I love puzzles. So bear with me…

Proclaim here is from the root Karah, to call out, to read. Something we announce outloud, just like we read Torah, outloud, publicly, Loudly. That was the purpose of putting this on the liberty bell. The bell, much like a shofar that proclaimed the jubilee year did the proclaiming, the announcing, the shouting.

But the Hebrew word for liberty is surprising. It is dror…which really means release. What are we being released from? How does it differ from freedom or liberty. That’s where this gets interesting….

To release is to allow or enable to escape from confinement; to set free. Prisoners are released. Slaves are released. That’s what this verb is talking about. To allow something to move, act or flow freely. Synonyms include free, set free, let go/out, liberate, untie, undo, loose, unleash, unfetter.

We release balloons. Maybe that is how we should celebrate. Nope. Pretty but not good for the environment or the birds.

Our ancestors, our relatives, came to this land, some earlier than others, for that sense of release, for freedom. For freedom to worship as they saw fit. For freedom, in some cases, not to worship at all.

We have in this country, the freedom to do what we want to do, when we want to do it. Within reason. If I chose to sleep in this morning, and not come, I could have exercised that freedom but there would have been consequences.

We brainstormed a list of those freedoms we value here. It read like the Bill of Rights. Freedom of religion, freedom to assemble, freedom of speech, freedom of the press, yes, even freedom to bear arms (although personally I believe there should be some limits on that one).

In fact, as we discussed, there are limits on freedom of speech. You cannot walk into this sanctuary, or a movie theatre and announce, proclaim if you will that there is a fire if there is no fire.

So as we said on Shabbat, with freedom comes responsibility. The Torah is really clear on that point. Because we were slaves—and we were freed—we are responsible for taking care of the widow, the orphan, the stranger—as I often say, the most marginal among us, as I said to the legislature just earlier this month.

Jews have been praying on behalf of our governments since Jeremiah’s day, during the first exile to Babylon. Jews have been praying on behalf of the American government since colonial times and when this nation was young. I read part of Moses Seixias’s prayer on Shabbat. I have read the Richmond Jewish community’s prayer for Washington in the past. This one fascinates me because it is an acrostic spelling out Washington’s name in Hebrew. http://opensiddur.org/prayers-for/collective-welfare/government/prayer-for-george-washington-first-president-of-the-united-states-of-america-by-kahal-kadosh-beit-shalome-1789/

Our own prayer book, Siddur Sim Shalom has a prayer for our country. I used part of it when I spoke to the Illinois Legislature.

The U46 School System has a mission statement that says that U46 is a great place for all students to learn, all teachers to teach and all employees to work. All means all.

All means all. Quoting Tevye, “Sounds simple, no?” But how we achieve it is part of that American dream that is so important to me. To all of us. We want to be able to sit under our vine and fig tree where none will make us afraid. We want to be able to proclaim liberty throughout the land to ALL the inhabitants thereof.

When we lived in Massachusetts my husband and I did some colonial reenacting. It was fun to sew costumes, to cook over an open fire in three layers of petticoat (dangerous as hell, but fun!). However, if we had lived in Chelmsford when it was founded, we would have been left out. We could not have voted. At least I could not have. You needed to be white, Christian, male, landowner.

As a nation, we have moved beyond that. We’ve come a long way, baby. Jews can vote. Blacks can vote. Women can vote. Emma Lazurus had it right on the Statue of Liberty:

“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

That is the America I believe in. And it is great. Now. I know this having lived in foreign countries. There is no place like home. This home. Yet we still have a responsibility. TO make sure that the freedoms we enjoy are enjoyed by all. We are biblically mandated.

The widow, the orphan, the stranger. ALL. The slaves (we still have them. Migrant workers, sex workers, those trafficked), ALL. Those with disabilities. ALL Single parent families struggling to provide for their families.  Immigrants. ALL. All who wish to be here and to make America great. Still. All who wish to participate in the American dream.

I am glad that my ancestors had the vision to come to this country. I am glad that many of them were compelled to fight for the freedoms that they believed in—the very same ones that I believe in too. The very same ones that our American ancestors, William Bradford, Samuel Adams, John and Abigail Adams, Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, Moses Sexias, Gershom Mendes, Hayyim Solomon Rebecca Gratz dreamed of. An America that would be a light to the nations. A new Jerusalem. Those freedoms include, “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” Those freedoms include “justice for all.” All means all. That is what my ancestors, my Jewish ones and my American ones dreamed of and fought for.

We are not there yet. We have a ways to go. And a responsibility to make sure that the next generation, from generation to generation, l’dor v’dor can live in a land that embraces all. I am willing to fight for it. With my words. Responsibly.

Each of these words, these traits we are looking at between Passover and Shavuot can be translated in many ways. This week’s word, Netzach, we know from prayers that include the phrase, “netzach netzachim” and is usually translated as eternity. Similar to L’olam va’ed. And we should not be surprised that there is more than one way to say something in Hebrew or that there is more than one meaning for a word. It is true in most languages. Think, for a minutes, about how many ways we can say green for example and all the shades of green. Emerald, Forest, Jade, Kelly, Lime, Olive, Teal, Turquoise to name just a few. The word itself in English, from the German is related to grass and grow.

Language is nuanced. Hebrew is no exception.

Netzach means endurance, eternity, victory. Victory and vanquished have the same root in Hebrew. They are two sides of the same coin.

Simon Jacobson says, “During the fourth week of counting the Omer, we examine and refine the emotional attribute of endurance known as Netzach. Netzach means endurance, fortitude and ambition and is a combination of determination and tenacity. It is a balance of patience, persistence and guts. Endurance is also being reliable and accountable, which establishes security and commitment. Without endurance, any good endeavor or intention has no chance of success. Endurance means to be alive, to be driven by what counts. It is the readiness to fight for what you believe, to go all the way. This, of course, requires that endurance be closely examined to ensure that it is used in a healthy and productive manner.”

As a long-distance runner, I think a lot about endurance. In fact, I am reading a book called Mental Strategies for Runners by one of my mentors and coaches, Jeff Galloway. The hope is that it will increase my endurance and make me mentally tougher.

This week we had an example of both endurance and eternity right in our own community. We had a young gentleman who celebrated his 83 birthday with a second Bar Mitzvah. This wasn’t just any celebration. This was a joyous celebration after a difficult year. My Bar Mitzvah boy had lost his wife in December. But more than that, his is a gentleman who had been hurt by the Jewish community and yet endured.

I met this individual when I first came to Elgin for my demo weekend. He came to the senior luncheon to check out this new (young) possible rabbi. I did a session on family history and cookbooks. He sat at my table and grilled me about Jewish law. He reminded me of someone from my home congregation, another lawyer and I admit it. I was intimidated. I managed that by having him snap a few pictures. I had no idea how much family history mattered to him.

When I finally arrived in Elgin to start my first year, even before we arrived, even before movers had delivered furniture and before we had internet, my cell phone rang. “Rabbi, I have to meet with you.” We agreed to meet at a coffee shop—not realizing that he doesn’t drink coffee but knowing they have internet. He showed me a file folder, parts of his family tree and his Bar Mitzvah picture.

I was shocked by the story that he told about some of his experiences here. Someone had decided that he was not Jewish and he was asked to convert in order to fully participate as a Jew. He did so but he lost his cohanim status, despite having a family tree of 650 people all of whom believe that they are cohains.

I immediately called my most traditional colleagues including my Orthodox Talmud professor and we convened a traditional and virtual Beit Din, not the typical three rabbis but five. There was no doubt in any of our minds—all of ours that he had always been a Jew and therefore based on his family history, a Cohain. We restored his status to him.

It is important to tell this part of a painful story. It never should have happened in the first place. And because unfortunately there are still doubters among us. I hope that the celebration erases some of the hurt.

All too often I hear stories like this. Someone trying to protect Judaism makes a decision that ultimately hurts people or pushes them away. Someone trying to do everything just right. Someone trying to please a parent or a teacher, a rabbi or even G-d makes things much more complicated or difficult than that very same G-d ever intended Judaism to be.

Judaism is a layered tradition. Very often, even in the Talmud, even in the Shulchan Arukh, there is more than one answer to a complicated question. The rabbis argue about it. Rabbi Akiba talks about 70 (correct) interpretations for every letter of the Torah. In settling an argument between the House of Hillel and the House of Shammai no less than a “bat kol”, a voice of G-d, proclaims, “These and these are the words of the living G-d.” (Talmud, Eruvin 13b)

The important thing, for our study, is that the Talmud has endured. In fact, Judaism itself has endured.

The Torah portion and haftarah for this week could not have been more perfect. Little did a rabbi 70 years ago know just how perfect it could be. Emor is about speech. Ethical speech. “Speak to the children of Israel and say…” Over and over. Each paragraph begins with this phrase. Moses is passing down a legacy. G-d instructs Moses. Moses instructs the people. This is the parsha that talks about “pri etz hadar,” the fruit of a goodly tree. What is that? An etrog! How do we know that? Because that is part of what G-d whispered to Moses while he was on Mount Sinai. It is part of the enduring legacy.

The haftarah spoke about gathering the first fruits. Those first fruits are usually the winter barley or wheat, the omer that we too have growing to fulfill the mitzvah of bringing a wave offering, of counting the omer. But those first fruits are also a legacy. Our Bar Mitzvah boy was surrounded by his own enduring legacy—his children and grandchildren and the 650 relatives on his family tree—his 50-year Bar Mitzvah project. Now that is an enduring legacy! When we talk about l’dor v’dor, from generation to generation it was right there, arrayed before us. That’s endurance. That’s eternity.

Contemplating eternity is something that this week’s mussar begs us to do.

Ron Wolfson’s book, The 7 Questions You’re Asked in Heaven outlines what that final exam might be like.

1. Have you seen my Alps? Have you explored the beauty and the pleasures that all the world has to offer.
2. Have you dealt honestly in your business practices?
3. Did you busy yourself with procreation? Of leaving something of lasting value behind?
4. Did you set aside time for study? For life long learning? Especially Torah.
5. Did you hope for deliverance? Were you an optimist?
6. Did you understand one thing from another? Did you set your priorities right?

The last question, based on a story from Reb Zusiya, is “Have you been the best YOU that you can be?” You don’t have to be Moses or Einstein, Zusiya or Lincoln. Just the best you.

Pirke Avot teaches that R. Shimon said: There are three crowns. The crown of Torah, the crown of priesthood and the crown of kingship. But the crown of a good name excels them all. (Pirke Avot 4:17)

That is how we achieve endurance. By enduring that is how we achieve eternity.

On Tuesday I drove to Springfield, our state capitol, to deliver the invocation to open the legislative session. I was the guest of Representative Anna Moeller whose gentle leadership I respect greater. She is a bridge builder, bringing people together to get work done in her district and her state. Even though I don’t live in her district I am the rabbi of a congregation that sits in her district.

I am not sure I support the practice of opening governmental meetings with prayer. The practice comes dangerously close to violating the principle of separation of church and state and there have been any number of court cases to test this practice. In the meantime, if I am asked to give an invocation, I do so. My participation is part of how we ensure diversity and balance. It gives voice to people who may not otherwise be represented.

The guidelines I have been sent reference the court cases and the federal mandate. I have worked hard to stitch together words that will inspire and comply.

For thousands of years, since the Israelites were exiled in Babylon, Jews have prayed for their governments. President George Washington visited the Jewish congregation in Newport, RI. The Jews of Richmond, VA wrote a prayer for Washington that was an acrostic of Washington’s name. I have cobbled together some words from Siddur Sim Shalom and its prayer for our country and the progressive prayer book in Great Britain that has a prayer for committee meetings that exhorts participants to compromise and to listen to one another with respect. Then I added my own words.

Springfield is 208 miles from my house to the Statehouse. That is exactly the same distance from my old house in Chelmsford to the old AJR campus, so it is a drive that I am accustomed to doing.

I love to drive. Driving gives me the opportunity to think deeply. This drive was no exception.

At some point I realize I am missing my mother. Frequently when driving to New York I would call my mother to check in. Most frequently I would be in Connecticut. It seemed I spent half my life in Connecticut, driving. This trip I remembered an old story of me in kindergarten in Evanston. During circle time on Lincoln’s birthday the teacher asked if anyone knew anything about Lincoln. I raised my hand and announced that my mother knew Lincoln. Everyone laughed. But for me it was obvious. We had been to Springfield, to Lincoln’s home. You don’t go to a stranger’s home. Obviously my mother knew Lincoln. The same logic was not as appreciated the very next week when I figured she knew Washington too. We had been to Mount Vernon as well.

This trip is a homecoming of sorts. I was going to be standing on the floor of the legislature. A place where Lincoln and Obama have both stood. I think my mother might have been proud.

Yet I cannot imagine what Lincoln, the favored son of Illinois, would be thinking. I live in the only state in the nation that does not have a state budget. The Democrats and the Republicans have refused to compromise. The governor has vetoed every attempt. It is a shanda. An embarrassment.

Everyday I get up and go to work. I get paid. That’s the way it is supposed to work. In fact, this past week we read the words, “Do not withhold the wages of your laborer overnight.” (Leviticus 19:13). I have friends who work for the state who get up and are still working who do not get paid. They have not been paid since July of 2015. Frankly I don’t know why they don’t quit.

Even more importantly, monies for essential services have not been paid to social service agencies. In Elgin that means that the Ecker Center which delivers mental health services has had to stop mental health evaluations. It means Renz Center, Community Crisis Center, PADs, other agencies I partner with to deliver critical services to my members are at risk. Every day. Statewide it means that Lutheran Services have cut 30 programs, laid off 750 people. http://www.lssi.org/post.php?ID=427 Catholic Services has had to do similar things. These agencies serve the most vulnerable amongst us.

It is not just social services that have been effected. It is also higher education. Elgin Community College just cut out its senior learning program. Harper College has cut out staff positions. Chicago State University laid off all of its 900 staff in February. Its future is unclear. Securing student loans is more difficult.

This past weekend we read about leaving the corners of our field, for the widow, the orphan, the stranger amongst us. The most vulnerable. Because we remember that we were slaves in the land of Egypt. It is really very simple. We have an obligation as a society to take care of those who cannot take care of themselves. Today those are the single parent households. The disabled. The veterans. The unemployed. The underemployed. It is precisely why I vote. It is why I send my representatives to Springfield and Washington.

So what can I possibly say to these people who have the power to change lives in their hands? How can I pray and implore them at the same time to get their jobs done? How can I remind them that this is bigger than Republican and Democrat? It is about being good representatives, good citizens, good people. It is about taking care of the people who need it most. Am I so naïve or so proud to think that I can break the budget logjam? No, but maybe while invoking G-d (can I even invoke G-d in the current guidelines?), I can move the needle just enough.

Still driving. 208 miles is far. I’ve forgotten just how far it is. But it is beautiful. It is overcast with breaks of sun. The prairie is beautiful. Expansive. The corn fields and soybean fields are sparkling with the bright green of new growth. It offers us hope.

I start singing one of my favorite songs, “Or zarua latzadik” “Light is sown for the righteous and joy for the upright in heart.” I am going to use this verse I decide to kick off my prayer. Because it is a puzzle. In order to be joyous, first we have to become righteous. We have to act with justice, first. We have to do tzedek, first.

I pull into Springfield, find a parking place. It is lightly raining. That new growth needs a balance between sun and rain. We need a balance in the legislature. We need the diversity of opinion. And we also need to get the work done so those vulnerable can become full participating members of society. So that eventually they can thrive.

Here is what I said….

Our G-d, and the G-d of our ancestors, as has been done since Jeremiah’s day, and was done by the Jewish community for President George Washington and for Abraham Lincoln, we ask Your blessings on our government, for its leaders and advisors. Teach them insights of Your Torah and of other sacred scriptures so that they may administer all affairs of state fairly, that peace and security, happiness and prosperity, justice and freedom may forever abide in this state.

Creator of all, help us to understand that each of us were created in Your image. Bless all the inhabitants of this state with Your spirit. May citizens of all races and creeds forge a common bond in true harmony to banish all hatred and bigotry and to safeguard the ideals and free institutions which are the pride and glory of this nation and this state.

Let us come together in G-ds name and prepare ourselves to do G-d’s will. May the Divine Presence dwell among us, drawing us closer to G-d and to serve G-d’s creatures, all of our people with justice and with love. Let us listen to each other with respect, and treat each other with wisdom and generosity. May our eyes be open to see Your greatness in the smallest things we do.

Merciful One, remind us that we were sent here for a purpose, chosen by the people. Let us also be witness to the Master whom we serve which justifies G-d’s choice of each of us sitting here today. May none of our controversies rise up from ambition and self-seeking. Let them only be for the sake of heaven, like those of the great ancient rabbis Hillel and Shammai who learned from their passionate arguments that “These and these are both the words of the living G-d.”

Compassionate One, we are reminded that 36 times in the Bible it tells us that our task as leaders is to take care of the widow, the orphan and the stranger, the most vulnerable amongst us. Help us to find the compassion, Your compassion so that no child will go to bed hungry, no parent will worry for that child’s safety, no senior will be forced to choose between heat or lights, food or medication. As G-d clothed the naked, Adam and Eve, we must clothe the naked. As G-d gave manna, a gift, to those hungering in the wilderness, we must feed the hungry. As G-d buried Moses, we must comfort the bereaved. Then every one will dwell in peace and unafraid as they sit under their vines and fig trees, or maybe here in Illinois, a big strong oak tree.

Finally, we are told that the day is short, the task in great, the workers are idle, the reward is great. It is not incumbent upon us to finish the task. Neither are we free to ignore it. And the Master of the House is impatient.” Let’s get to work. Together. Amen.

While I was in California last week, I learned a new phrase, May Gray. It seems while according to the song, “It never rains in Southern California”, every morning in May is gray.

But this is the week to talk about and learn about tiferet. Tiferet gets translated as beauty or glory or splendor. And by late afternoon, that is what would happen, the sun would break through and the world, or at least my corner of it, would be filled with splendor.

Splendor comes from the Latin and has to do with light breaking forth. It gives us “enlightenment” and “insight.”

In Judaism there is a concept of hiddur hamitzvah, beautification of the commandment. That is why there is so much Jewish ritual art. In every time and place, Jews have sought to enhance the mitzvoth, to make them more beautiful. Now the trick here is that what is beautiful to me may not be to you and visa versa, and that is OK. Just fine.

What if, however, you can’t see? Or you can’t see colors? Can the world still be beautiful? I think so. And I am reminded of a Louis Armstrong song,

I see trees of green,
red roses too.
I see them bloom,
for me and you.
And I think to myself,
what a wonderful world.

I see skies of blue,
And clouds of white.
The bright blessed day,
The dark sacred night.
And I think to myself,
What a wonderful world.

The colors of the rainbow,
So pretty in the sky.
Are also on the faces,
Of people going by,
I see friends shaking hands.
Saying, “How do you do?”
They’re really saying,
“I love you”.

I hear babies cry,
I watch them grow,
They’ll learn much more,
Than I’ll ever know.
And I think to myself,
What a wonderful world.

Yes, I think to myself,
What a wonderful world.

That’s splendor. That is letting the light shine forth. That is that perfect balance between chesed and gevurah we were talking about last week. And it is beautiful, indeed.

When an individual is privileged to have that flash of insight or enlightenment, in Buddhism, that term is satori. Other words might be awakening, comprehension or understanding. It is the ability of “seeing into one’s own nature, or essence.” I think that is what splendor or tiferet really is. And it is fleeting. Just an instant. And then just as quickly it can be gone. Because that balance is so, so difficult to achieve.

Here is a Buddhist poem to describe satori

A thunderclap under the clear blue sky
All beings on earth open their eyes;
Everything under heaven bows together;
Mount Sumeru leaps up and dances.
Wuman

Satori or tiferet isn’t experienced very often. But when it is, the colors are brighter (even on a grey day), the pieces fit together, the world seems whole. It is hard to describe. But you know it, if you are lucky enough to experience it. Some say that it is the whole purpose of Buddhism.

Yet, Tiferet is a little bit more than that. Tiferet becomes known as compassion (in other places the Hebrew might be chanun) because it blends and harmonizes the free outpouring love of chesed with the discipline of gevurah. We talked about this last week. But, tiferet introduces another way to balance, a third dimension – the dimension of truth, which is neither love or discipline and therefore can integrate the two.

At first I was surprised by this. How can truth and beauty be the same word in Hebrew? My husband figured it out. It is like the poem “Ode to a Grecian Urn” by Keats.

“Beauty is truth, truth beauty,–that is all ye know on earth, and all ye need to know”

According to Simon Jacobson, whose work on the omer we have been studying, “This quality gives tiferet its name, which means beauty: it blends the differing colors of love and discipline, and this harmony makes it beautiful. For tiferet to be complete it needs the inclusion of the following seven facets: love of compassion, discipline of compassion, compassion of compassion, endurance of compassion, humility of compassion, bonding of compassion and sovereignty of compassion.”

We are now back to the colors of the kaleidoscope and putting the pieces together. When we put those pieces together, we find beauty, we find truth, we find peace. And that is tiferet.

So what is beauty? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. What is beautiful to you?

This week the attribute we are examining is “Gevurah”, strength. We know that G-d is strong because we have a prayer, the “gevurot”, the second blessing of the Amidah. “Atah Gibor L’olam Adoani… You are Strong, Mighty, Powerful, forever, Adonai.” And in love, chesed, last week’s word, G-d sustains the living.

But in the kabbalistic sephirot and in the mussar material, this same word is translated as discipline. What is the connection? I puzzled over this for most of the week. I think I now have an answer. (This is Judaism, so there is probably more than one correct answer!)

It is with discipline or through discipline that we can become strong. Ben Zoma said in Pirkei Avot, “Who is one wise? One who learns from all people, as it is said: “From all my teachers have I gained understanding.” (Psalm 119:99) Who is strong? One who conquers, overpowers, subdues, controls the evil impulse, as it is written, “One who is slow to anger is better than the mighty, and one who rules over their spirit than one who conquers a city.” (Proverbs 16:32)”

That gives us the textual explanation. And it makes sense. Here’s why. Back in August, which seems like a very long time ago, my daughter and I signed up for two races to celebrate Mother’s Day Weekend. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Life intervened making the training more difficult.

Yet I was disciplined. I followed a training schedule as closely as I possibly could. Will it be enough to get me across not one but two finish lines? Not sure yet. I often say about college football games you have to expect the unexpected and you have to play the games to see the outcome. But regardless of whether I succeed in the “Pixie Dust Challenge” the way I have hoped and dreamed, what is clear is the discipline has led to me being stronger.

I also, after wrestling with this topic all week, think that it is no accident that Gevurah follows Chesed. In the 13 Attributes of the Divine, it starts by saying “Adonai, Adonai, El…” Adonai is seen as the attribute of Divine mercy, and Elohim is the G-d of justice. It is the justice that reins G-d’s love in. It keeps it in balance. That is why on the sephirot charts you see Gevurah opposite Chesed. Sometimes, even Gevurah is called Din, Justice.

We see this tension between justice and mercy at the beginning of Exodus when Moses encounters the burning bush. According to Gunther Plaut, , “The repetition of the attribute of mercy was taken to mean that God is merciful both before and after man has sinned and repented; it is man who changes, not God.”

So if as Simon Jacobson says about counting the omer this week, “If love (chesed) is the bedrock of human expression, discipline (gevurah) is the channels through which we express love. It gives our life and love direction and focus. Take a laser beam: Its potency lies in the focus and concentration of light in one direction rather than fragmented light beams dispersed in all different directions.

Gevurah – discipline and measure – concentrates and directs our efforts, our love in the proper directions. Another aspect of gevurah is – respect and awe. Healthy love requires respect for the one you love.”

Gevurah then is the counterbalance to Chesed. It is not, as many suggest, an either or equation but a both and. Without Gevurah, the world would be so filled with Chesed, that it would be “reabsorbed into the Divine.” Without Chesed, G-d’s own judgment could cause G-d to destroy the world again, something G-d promised to never do again after the flood. G-d’s own self-restraint.

Sometimes the idea of gevurah as discipline, is in setting limits, boundaries. This is hard for me. I am too willing to give up my day off, for instance. I just can’t seem to set that limit when someone needs me. When I go on vacation, the laptop comes with me, just in case, and I am using it this morning. Sometimes when people cross boundaries inappropriately, I am the last to see them. But like the airlines tell us, put your own oxygen mask on before helping those around you. It is important. And this week’s focus on gevurah comes to teach us that.

In Judaism, everything we do is deliberate, intentional. When we are living consciously. When we are disciplined. Even how we dress.

Earlier this year I was thinking about this as I finished my workout and put on a red sweater for the rest of my day. You see, I had just finished running my miles for Jennifer.

I don’t actually know Jennifer. Although she trains with my son-in-law, Edgar. Both of them run with the Pasadena Pacers—and their color is red. Jennifer is a member of one of my online communities, Run the Year. Simon and I have a goal of running 2016 miles together during this year. Run, walk or crawl. So far our virtual team has “run” over 900 miles this year. That is disciplined. I am proud of our accomplishments.

We talk a lot about communities. Holy communities. Kehila Kedosha. And I am skeptical about online communities. But here is the power. Here is the story of my red sweater.

Jennifer went out running in California. Wearing her earbuds, nonetheless she heard some disparaging remarks behind her. Disparaging is not strong enough. Cruel. Mean. Bullying. As she said in her post, “You see the fat girl in the red, you don’t want to become that. She’s probably ugly as hell too.” Then she was passed and he said, “See, told you.” She immediately stopped running and went back to her car and cried.

She wrote about her experience on one of the online communities.

That’s when the running community stepped up. Over 1000 people ran “Miles for Jennifer.” Wearing red. Sending her messages of love and support. Reminding all of us that bullying is not OK. People raised money for anti-bullying organizations. Lulemon Athletics even changed its window in Manhattan to support #runforjennifer and Run the Year.

Jennifer went on finish the Los Angeles Marathon. She was disciplined in her training and her friends—all across the country cheered her on. We are so proud of her!

This story hit me hard. You see, I have been called Fatso. Fat Ass. Even in days when I was skinnier. And that is not OK. It is never OK. Even if it were true, it shows a lack of discipline on the part of the name caller.

There is a t-shirt I dream of buying (but frankly I am too chicken to wear it and now I can’t find it). It says, “They call me Rabbi because BadAss Miracle Worker is not a Job Title.” Really, I saw this T-shirt on Facebook. Shortly after the Jenn story!

I am not a miracle worker. What I think I am is disciplined. It is discipline that got me through rabbinical school. It is discipline that gets me through races. And yes, that discipline makes me stronger. It is like Walt Disney said, “The way to get started is to quit talking and begin doing.” Or like Herzl said, “If you will it, it is no dream.” I am hoping at the end of this race that someone will get me the bracelet that says, “She believed she could so she did.” It reflects my commitment to discipline.

When I was in college, the movie Chariots of Fire came out. You can actually sing the Sh’ma (while running) to its theme song. At some point in the movie, it quotes Isaiah, “But they that wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; they shall walk, and not faint.” (Isaiah 40:31) It has been a quote that has powered me through many long runs.

The very reason I run is for balance. It is for health. It is is to “Cleanse my heart to serve You in truth,” another favorite verse I sing while I am running. But if it slips over, if it crosses a boundary and impedes other portions of my, then does not make me strong. If I do it to prove that I am worthy or lovable to myself or others, then the balance is still out of whack. If I run and then “Lord it over” on someone, brag too much or bully someone else, then I do not have the balance right.

I shall run—and walk—this weekend, and I hope to not be weary or faint. But this I know, my strength comes from being disciplined. My strength comes from G-d. And maybe a little pixie dust.

How will you balance strength, discipline and lovingkindness this week?

The First Week: Chesed:

It turns out that translating the word Chesed isn’t so easy. Love, lovingkindness, kindness, abounding in kindness? Dr. Nelson Glueck, the fomer president of Hebrew Union College wrote his PhD thesis on this very word and concluded that we cannot know its meaning fully. Plaut suggests “beyond what humanity deserves.” Perhaps then it is only something that G-d has and that we mere mortals aspire towards. It is nonetheless, central to our understanding of the nature of the Divine.

Brown Driver and Briggs, the best Biblical Hebrew dictionary lists it as goodness, kindness and, specifically when referring to God, as kindness or lovingkindness. They point out that it is frequently grouped with other attributes, particularly emet, or with the idea that God’s lovingkindness is abundant, as in rav chesed. Onkelos points out that there is an implied “doing” or “making” with chesed that is explicit in the combination of nosei chesed. So this is an active word.

The Stone Chumash explains that God is kind even to those who lack personal merits. Also, if one’s personal behavior is evenly balanced between virtue and sin, God tips the scales of judgment toward the good.

It is different from Ahavah, love, which is used more in relationships, between people or between people and G-d. This is the word for commitment and connection. Ahava is a love of the will and that it is more profound than just fleeting romantic feelings. It is a desire which leads a person to make a decision to join their life to another forever. It is what makes things last. It is the feeling that Isaac had when he took Rebecca to his mother’s tent and was comforted. The Bible simply and for the first time says that “Isaac loved Rebecca.”The lovers in the Song of Songs state that Ahava is as strong as death, that many rivers cannot quench Ahava (Song of Songs 8:7).

It is different from Raya which could be translated as the noun for friendship. Having raya for someone means being a companion or someone you share things with. Raya means you share ideas, experiences, hopes and dreams. It is in the phrase, “Love your neighbor, your companion, your friend as yourself.”(Lev 19)

It is different from Dod, like, Dodi li, I am my beloved and my beloved is mine. I think it probably encompasses all three as an active emotion and act of compassion, lovingkindness and that is what makes it so profound and so difficult to translate.

Chesed is the preview of G-d. The word appears 245 times in the Bible, about two thirds of them refer to G-d’s character and actions. It is G-d who is the Master of Chesed. Creating the world was an act of Chesed and the Psalms remind us, “The world is built with chesed” (89:3).

Growing up in Grand Rapids, I was consistently told that the God of the New Testament is the God of Love, active, present tense and the God of the Old Testament, what I would prefer to call the Hebrew Bible or the Hebrew Scriptures is an old, angry, vengeful, hateful G-d. But given what I learned about the 13 Attributes of G-d and all the ways G-d can be loving—and is, exhibiting chesed to the 1000^th generation, I know that this is my mission, to make people aware that they can be loved and are worthy of that deep, unconditional love that G-d offers.

Simon Jacobson says it this way: “Love is the single most powerful and necessary component in life. Love is the origin and foundation of all human interactions. It is both giving and receiving. It allows us to reach above and beyond ourselves. To experience another person and to allow that person to experience us. It is the tool by which we learn to experience the highest reality – G‑d. In a single word: love is transcendence.”

In  Moses Cordovero’s cabalistic treatise, Tomer Devorah, the Palm Tree of Deborah, the following are actions undertaken in imitation of the qualities of Chesed:

• love God so completely that one will never forsake His service for any reason
• provide a child with all the necessities of his sustenance and love the child
• circumcise a child
• visiting and healing the sick
• giving charity to the poor
• offering hospitality to strangers
• attending to the dead
• bringing a bride to the chuppah marriage ceremony
• making peace between a man and his fellow

We see this in the Talmud, when we are told “These are the obligations without measure whose reward too is without measure:

“These are the obligations without measure, whose reward, too, is without measure:

• To honor father and mother; to perform acts of love and kindness;
• to attend the house of study daily;
• to welcome the stranger;
• to visit the sick;
• to rejoice with bride and groom;
• to console the bereaved;
• to pray with sincerity,
• to make peace when there is strife.
• V’talmud torah k’neged kulam… and the study of Torah is equal to them all, because it leads to them all.”

It is one of my favorite readings in the Shabbat morning liturgy. Linking it to these actions being acts of chesed only strengthens it for me. This is what being a holy community, a kehila kedosha is all about.

It becomes a blueprint of how we should act with chesed, by imitating G-d as it teaches in the Talmud. What is the meaning of the verse “You shall walk after the Lord your  God” (Deuteronomy 13:5)? Is it possible for a human being to walk after the Shechinah (God’s presence), for has it not been said, “For the Lord your God is a devouring fire” (Deuteronomy 4:24)? But the verse means to walk after the attributes of the Holy One, Blessed is He. As God clothes the naked, for it is written, “And the Lord God made for Adam and his wife coats of skin and clothed them” (Genesis 3:21), so should you clothe the naked. The Holy One, Blessed is He, visits the sick, for it is written, “And the Lord appeared to him (Abraham, while he was recovering from circumcision), by the oaks of Mamre” (Genesis 18:1), so should you also visit the sick. The Holy One, Blessed is He, comforts mourners, for it is written, “And it came to pass after the death of Abraham, that God blessed Isaac, his son” (Genesis 25:11), so should you comfort mourners. The Holy One, Blessed is He, buries the dead, for it is written, “And He buried Moses in the valley” (Deuteronomy 34:6), so should you also bury the dead.  (Sotah 14)

So now that we know a lot about Chesed how do we think about it for the week?

Ellen Lippmann in her reflection on Race and Chesed says this…

The Torah reminds us over and over to remember that we were slaves in Egypt and must forever after be kind to those who are strangers in our time and place. Here and now the tendency is to fear and reject has eager advocates, and the need for Hesed—for that loving kindness that can only be called Divine—grows. ..For white Ashkenazi Jews like me in America in 2016, Hesed could act like this, reaching out a hand when needed, taking care to avoid shaming, becoming an ally without being asked.

Simon Jacobson says,

“Examine the love aspect of love. The expression of love and its level of intensity. Everyone has the capacity to love in their hearts. The question is if and how we actualize and express it. Ask yourself:

What is my capacity to love another person? Do I have problems with giving? Am I stingy or selfish? Is it difficult for me to let someone else into my life? Do I have room for someone else? Do I allow room for someone else? Am I afraid of my vulnerability, of opening up and getting hurt? How do I express love? Am I able to communicate my true feelings? Do I withhold expressing love out of fear of reaction? Or on the contrary: I often express too much too early. Do others misunderstand my intentions?

Whom do I love? Do I only love those that I relate to and who relate to me? Do I have the capacity to love a stranger; to lend a helping hand to someone I don’t know? Do I express love only when it’s comfortable?

Why do I have problems with love and what can I do about it? Does my love include the other six aspects of chesed, without which love will be distorted and unable to be truly realized.”

The point of all of this is to create an awareness of how chesed comes from G-d and how we, in turn, use it in our daily lives. See if you can spot acts of hesed this week—either of your own or of others. Start to make your acts of chesed “active.” As Moranis points out “Without action, chesed is a theoretical notion. It’s like a picture of flowers, minus the scent and feel and depth.” When we begin to practice chesed and to be aware of it, then we receive more chesed as gifts of kindness, bestowed on other and registered in ourselves.

It is like the discussion early in the session about chesed shel emet, burying the dead, is an act of kindness with no hope that the person we are burying will ever repay it. It is, if you will, a final act of paying it forward.

We ended our session with a plea for balance as we sang Al Shlosha Devarim, On three things the world stands, on Torah, on service, on acts of love and kindness.

May it be so as we continue our journey to Sinai.

The last day of Passover. But as we leave this holiday we look towards Shavuot. We actually read just a little about Shavuot, which comes 49 days from the second night of Passover.

We are told we should number our days. We are told that we should wave a wave offering. We are told that we should remain vigilant since the Israelites fell asleep at Mount Sinai. All of this so we are ready to receive the Torah.

Like the idea that each of us were free from Mitzrayim, out of the narrow places, each of us stood at Sinai. And we are standing there again, each year, on Shavuot. Shavuot is the wedding between us, the children of Israel, and G-d. Torah is the ketubah. As it says in Hosea, “And I will betroth thee unto Me for ever; yea, I will betroth thee unto Me in righteousness, and in justice, and in lovingkindness, and in compassion.” That’s the word of the week, lovingkindness, chesed. We’ll get back to that in a minute.

One of the ways we stay vigilant is to count the Omer. All of those 49 days. It isn’t easy. It is possible to forget. Shabbat was the7th day of the counting of the omer. Today is the 9^th day.

There are many systems for counting. You can just use a counter like this one. Some use a book, like we used last year by Rabbi Karyn Kedar. That one is now available as a set of cards and as an app you can download to your phone. Chabad also has a mobile app.

You can use a sticker counter, which kids seem to especially enjoy. My favorite one was designed by Sharon Cores who had kids puts stickers of feet on for each day as we “marched” through the wilderness towards Sinai. Others have used a calendar almost like an Advent Calendar where each day you received a Hershey’s Kiss. Another kid pleaser!

At Temple Emanuel of the Merrimack Valley, under the direction of Rabbi Everett Gendler we always planted winter wheat at Sukkot. Lying fallow over the winter and then beginning each day during Passover, Everett would cut a small portion and we would see the growth. At each congregation I have worked I have continued the tradition, reflective of the wave offering, and even in the hardest of winters, it also works, to the amazement of all.

There are Omer Counters with a particular theme. Rabbi Jill Hammer, my professor at the Academy for Jewish Religion has one that examines Biblical Women. http://www.ritualwell.org/ritual/omer-calendar-biblical-women In some circles, each day corresponds to a Biblical (male) character. In her counter, we get a better appreciation of many of the women.

Kolot, a progressive synagogue in the Park Slope neighborhood of Brooklyn is having different people write about anti-racsim each of the weeks, as an act of chesed and repairing the world. http://www.kolotchayeinu.org/Omer_Week_

Rabbi Katy Allen is continuing her commitment to the environment, a theme I introduced again last week talking about the intersection of Passover and Earth Day and our need as Jews to repair the environment. She calls herself a nature chaplain, and her congregation Mayan Tikvah does one each year about the earth. http://mayantikvah.blogspot.com

The blessing for counting the omer is “Al s’firat haomer, on the counting of the omer.”

In the 16^th century, the Kabbalists started counting based on the attributes of G-d, also sometimes call the Sefirot, which we usually read as part of the Torah reading on Shabbat Pesach but not this morning. That was indeed my Bat Mitzvah portion and they have been endlessly fascinating to me.

In the Torah portion, there are 13 Attributes of the Divine, The Lord, The Lord, G-d, merciful and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in lovingkindness (chesed) and truth, extending kindness to the 1000^th generation, forgiving iniquity, transgression and sin.

In the Kabbalistic world there are 10 Sefirot, Keter (crown), Hokhmah (wisdom), Binah (understanding), Chesed (mercy, lovingkindness), Din (justice), Tiferet (beauty), Netzach (eternity), Hod (glory), Yesod (foundation), Shechinah (G-d’s Presence). As you can see, there is some overlap between these and the 13 outlined in Exodus 34:6-7.

As Simon Jacobson says in his introduction to counting the omer, “With the mitzvah of counting the 49 days, known as Sefirat Ha’Omer, the Torah invites us on a journey into the human psyche, into the soul. There are seven basic emotions that make up the spectrum of human experience. At the root of all forms of enslavement, is a distortion of these emotions. Each of the seven weeks between Passover and Shavuot is dedicated to examining and refining one of them.”

We are on that journey together. As we count , as we journey, we are building holy individuals who make our holy community. It is about intention. It is about spirit. It is about love.

So the first week is chesed, the second gevurah, etc. Each day is the intersection of two of those traits. So the first day is chesed shel chesed.

What is mussar?

I think there is a another way to count the omer and that is by using the framework of Mussar. Since each week has a theme, according to the Kabbalists, can we tie them to the Mussar traits? That is what we are going to explore as a congregation as we “march” towards Shavuot as Sharon Cores would say.

In some congregations it is traditional to study Pirke Avot between Passover and Shavuot. This year, we will study mussar, one attribute each week. This is something that I am not an expert in. It is something that Simon and I, and Rabbi Steve Peskind and his wife Judy have been studying together, once a week for over a year.

What is Mussar? It was developed in the 19^th century Lithuanian Orthodox Jews as a way to look at characterlogical traits and master them for ourselves by being aware of how we relate to them or be triggered by them. The  term Mussar, is derived from a verse in Proverbs 1:2 meaning moral conduct, instruction or discipline. The term was used by the Musar movement to refer to efforts to further ethical and spiritual discipline. So that is what it is, a tool to self-improvement of spiritual discipline and ethics. A way to hold ourselves accountable in community. A way to strive to become like G-d, and G-d’s attributes like the Kabbalists counted the omer. There are many books within the tradition of Mussar, that include Tomer Devorah (The Palm Tree of Deborah), Duties of the Heart, and Orchos Tzaddikim. We will look at selections from them on our journey to Sinai.

Said Alan Moranis who leads Mussar workshops all over the country,

Mussar is a path of contemplative practices and exercises that have evolved over the past thousand years to help an individual soul to pinpoint and then to break through the barriers that surround and obstruct the flow of inner light in our lives. Mussar is a treasury of techniques and understandings that offers immensely valuable guidance for the journey of our lives.

If we focus on one trait a week, we will develop a tool of self-improvement. In fact, some people actually journal while going through a mussar class. But the Mussar movement was not alone in this idea. Benjamin Franklin did a similar thing. Each week he closely examined a different virtue in his journal. 13 of them. They are different ones from the 13 Attributes http://www.thirteenvirtues.com but a very similar project.

“I propos’d to myself, for the sake of clearness, to use rather more names, with fewer ideas annex’d to each, than a few names with more ideas; and I included under thirteen names of virtues all that at that time occurr’d to me as necessary or desirable, and annexed to each a short precept, which fully express’d the extent I gave to its meaning.” – Benjamin Franklin

So let’s begin!

This Shabbat we conclude the celebration of Passover. It is a very special Shabbat. We will celebrate an 80^th birthday party, we will hear from our seventh graders as they lead the Torah service, we will think about love as we hear the poignant and beautiful verses of Song of Songs, Shir haShirim. And towards the end of the services we will pause to remember.

Passover is one of four times when we add Yizkor. This year in the congregation we have a number of people who lost a parent. Others lost a spouse, an aunt, an uncle, a brother-in-law. We had a family that tragically lost a granddaughter.

Saying Yizkor is always evocative. Emotional. Poignant. Yizkor means Remember. What is it that we are remembering? It is a link in the chain that connects us one generation to the next.

Why at the pilgrimage festivals and Yom Kippur? Because in the midst of our gladness, we are still sad. Even on our happiest days. That is part of why we also smash a glass at Jewish weddings.

The components of Yizkor are simple. A couple of Psalms, El Maleh Rachamin, (The Committal Prayer), some personal reflections on those we have individually lost, and in many communities, the Kaddish. Maybe 10 minutes.

Those personal reflections are unlike other prayers we have. Designed to remember the departed by acknowledging them as our teachers and promising to give tzedakah because the good deeds of the survivors will elevate the souls of those who went before. We will also attain a measure of personal atonement and forgiveness by doing an act of lovingkindness, chesed.

Kaddish is an ancient prayer, written in Aramaic, the common language of the day, so that it could be understood by everyone. Written in about the first century BCE for use in the house of study, not the house of prayer or synagogue, students and teachers would rise to praise G-d’s name after a learned discourse. Not wanting to be elitist, eventually it would be recited for anyone—scholarly or not.

In preparation for this I learned that the Lord’s Prayer is quite probably related to Kaddish. Matthew 6:9-13. “Our Father who art in Heaven hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come,” is very similar to “Exalted and hallowed be God’s great name
in the world which God created, according to plan.
May God’s majesty be revealed in the days of our lifetime
and the life of all Israel — speedily, imminently, to which we say Amen.”

The congregation echoes with “Blessed be God’s great name to all eternity.” And many places try to do this with as much force and meaning as they can muster.

Blessed, praised, honored, exalted, extolled, glorified, adored, and lauded
be the name of the Holy Blessed One, beyond all earthly words and songs of blessing,
praise, and comfort.

It always amazes me the number of synonyms that the rabbis strung together that mean praise—blessed, praised, honored, exalted, extolled, glorified, adored, lauded. And recognized that language ultimately fails and that we cannot adequately praise G-d. And perhaps this is precisely why it works. Because G-d is above all those words.

Because we summon the courage to praise G-d for life, even in the face of death. No matter how difficult that is. Because it was not originally a mourner’s prayer and it never mentions death.

There are five different Kaddish prayers—and we use most of them.

1. Kaddish DeRabbanan, the Scholar’s Kaddish—the one originally written to praise G-d after a rabbi had given a teaching.
2. Chatzi Kaddish or Reader’s Kaddish, that acts like a punctuation mark separating parts of the service.
3. Kaddish Shalem, the full, complete, whole Kaddish that comes at the end of the Amidah. It adds a phrase to “accept the prayer and the supplication of the entire Jewish people.”
4. Kaddish Yitom, Mourner’s Kaddish.
5. The last one is sometimes referred to as the burial Kaddish because it is said graveside. Yet it is also said at the completion of a studying a tractate of Talmud when one makes a siyyum, a party. The connection is that both events hope for a world redeemed and renewed.

Kaddish has taken on an almost mystical allure. There is something in the rhythm of the words, still recited in Aramaic, less clear in meaning today. There is something in being linked to all the generations that have said it before. There is something in the notion that saying Kaddish would shorten the amount of time our very own loved ones would spend in Gehenna (hell) before ascending to Olam Haba (the world to come).

In some congregations only the mourners rise, those who have experienced a recent death or are marking the anniversary of a death (yahrzeit). Since the Holocaust when so many have no one to say Kaddish for them, many rabbis invite all to stand. My personal custom is to invite all those who are saying Kaddish for a loved one or have the tradition of always rising for Mourner’s Kaddish to rise and join with me.

In some places women are still not allowed to say Kaddish and there have been some very ugly battles in my opinion particularly recently in Israel when women have been prohibited from saying Kaddish for a parent right at the funeral itself.

On the very night I had planned to explain Kaddish, we had a very powerful experience.

We had 8 Jewish worshippers and 3 from a local church, one of whom had recently lost his spouse and had come to experience Kaddish.

It is traditional to say Kaddish only in the presence of a minyan, 10 Jewish adults over the age of 13. In the old days that would be 10 Jewish men since women, children and slaves were not obligated to time bound mitzvoth so didn’t count. Some say if there are nine Jewish adults you can have a child hold the Torah or a chumash, and that counts.

What is the reason for 10? The usual reason is that Abraham argued with G-d to save Sodom and Gemorah. Would G-d destroy Sodom and Gemorah if there were 50 righteous people? How about 40? Abraham bargained G-d down all the way to 10—but alas there wee not even 10 righteous people so Sodom and Gemorah were destroyed.

Here is my argument. Now it occurs to me that when Abraham was bargaining, the people of Sodom and Gemorah were not Jews. They were not even Israelites. They were Canaanites. So we are back to the idea of needing 10 righteous people, Jewish or not. Furthermore, in Pirke Avot, we learn this Mishnah:

“Rabbi Chalafta the son of Dosa of the village of Chanania would say: Ten who sit together and occupy themselves with Torah, the Divine Presence rests amongst them, as is stated: “The Almighty stands in the congregation of G-d” (Psalms 82:1). And from where do we know that such is also the case with five? From the verse, “He established his band on earth” (Amos 9:6). And three? From the verse, “He renders judgement in the midst of the tribunal” (Psalms 82:1). And two? From the verse, “Then the G‑d-fearing conversed with one another, and G‑d listened and heard” (Malachi 3:16). And from where do we know that such is the case even with a single individual? From the verse, “Every place where I have My name mentioned, I shall come to you and bless you” (Exodus 20:21).” (Pirke Avot 3:6)

While the ideal is clearly 10, it is even the case that G-d is present when there are 5. And so we rose, all of us together, to recite the mourner’s kaddish, with a much richer understanding of its purpose. And in the process, we became, at least for an instant, holy.

This Shabbat we will say Mourner’s Kaddish three times, as well as Kaddish DeRabbanan, Chatzi Kaddish and Kaddish Shalem and Yizkor. Come join us as we praise G-d’s name and become that holy community that Abraham was bargaining for. Then we pass on this tradition to the next generation, lador v’dor, Come join us as we ourselves become holy, if only for an instant.

I have a friend in Israel. Yosef Abramowitz. He is the son of a dear friend in Massachusetts, Devora Abramowitz, who we have known for years at Temple Emanuel of the Merrimack Valley. Yossi is a writer, an entrepenuer, having started Babaganewz when he still lived in Newton. Now he is selling solar panels all over the world, a lot in African countries. He is putting Israel on the map and increasing relations between peoples. He has been named by CNN as one of the six leading “green pioneers on the planet as CEO of Energiya Global Capital and last year he ran for President of Israel

He had an article in Friday’s Jerusalem Post about the connection between Passover and Earth Day (http://www.jpost.com/Opinion/When-Passover-and-Earth-Day-meet-451978 ) and he laid down a challenge. What rabbi would take up the charge? I said I would gladly do it!

We all know that I didn’t go to synagogue when we lived in Evanston. We spent most weekends at some political rally or other. So this social justice stuff, making the world a better place, is something I come by, you might say, genetically. And that might be the point….you see my father, the geneticist, first worked for a man named Barry Commoner, who I gather was quite the character. He even ran for president of the United States at one point. But I digress. Barry’s office in Saint Louis, coined the phrase ecologist And so it should come as no surprise that I was actually at the first Earth Day celebrations.

And the science on climate change really is irrefutable, What may be less clear is the connection between Earth Day and Passover. So let me explain and be perfectly clear.

We are told in Genesis that we are to be partners with G-d in Creation. That we are to be caretakers of this earth. That G-d will not destroy the world again. That is the covenant G-d made with Noah after the flood. That is why I am wearing this rainbow tallit this morning.

For you early birds, as we went through the first part of the service, I pointed out the parts of the service that praise G-d for this glorious Creation. And what a beautiful morning we have for this.

I want to look at two other prayers. The second paragraph of the V’ahavata says that we are entering a good land where G-d will give rain to your land, the early and late rains, that you may gather in your grain, your wine and your oil.” If, and there is an if, we are partners with G-d by loving G-d and fulfilling G-d’s commandments. I would add, however, we interpret that.

Those early and late rains is part of what connects this first morning of Passover to Earth Day. Today we add the prayer for Tal, dew, at the beginning of the Musaf service. At the end of Sukkot we will add the prayer for rain. These are prayers that cantors love. They are beautiful piyyutim, poems that have had gorgeous music written for them.

They remind me of Honi the Circle Drawer. We know two Honi stories, both from the Talmud. But they bear repeating.

Honi was bothered by a verse, “When God returns us to Zion, we will have been as dreamers.” (Psalm 126:1). Could it be that a person can sleep for 70 years continuously? One day, as he was walking he saw a man planting a carob tree. “How long will it be before this tree produces fruit?” “Seventy years,” the old man answered. “Will you still be alive then?” Honi questioned. The man answered, “Just as my ancestors planted for me, so I plant for my children and my children’s children.” (B Ta’anit 23a)

Usually we tell this story on Tu B’shevat, sometimes called the Jewish Arbor Day. But when Passover and Earth Day collide, it make sense to tell it again. All of Passover is set up to tell our children stories. It is the great “lador v’dor”, from generation to generation. We want our children to ask questions so that we can tell them what the Lord did for us, for me, when I went forth from Egypt. We want that there is a land, a good land, one flowing with milk and honey as our Haftarah portion alludes to, that our children can inherit, just as G-d promised to Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca, Jacob, Rachel and Leah.

And there is a second Honi story, one we don’t tell as often.

It once happened that they said to Honi ha-M’aggel, the Circle Drawer: “Pray that rains may fall.” He said to them: “Go out and bring in the [clay] ovens for the Paschal sacrifices so that they will not dissolve.” He prayed, but rains did not fall. What did he do? He drew a circle and stood within it and he said before Him: “Master of the Universe! Your children have turned their faces to me, for I am like a member of your household. I swear by Your great Name that I will not move from here until You have mercy on Your children.” Rains began to come down in drops. He said: “I did not ask this, but rains [to fill] pits, ditches and caves.” They began to come down angrily. He said: “I did not ask this but [for] rains of benevolence, blessing and generosity.” They fell in their normal way, until Israel went up out of Jerusalem to the Temple Mount [high ground] because of the rains. They came and said to him: “Just as you prayed for them that they should fall, so pray that they should go away.”…Shimon ben Shetach [the Nasi, or chief officer of the Sanhedrin] sent for him: “If you were not Honi I would decree a ban upon you. But what shall I do to you, for you act like a spoiled child before God and yet He does your will for you, as a son who acts like a spoiled child with his father and yet he does his will for him? And about you the verse says: “Your father and your mother shall be glad and she who bore you shall rejoice.” (M. Taanit 3:8)

So today we begin to pray for dew. We recognize that in Israel, this is the beginning of the dry season. We recognize that these stories and prayers are about the land of Israel in particular. However, I believe we have an sacred obligation to take care of the land of Israel, our obligation extends to the whole earth. That is why this celebration of Earth Day, falling as it does during Passover, is so critical.

The organizers of Earth Day say, “Let’s make big stuff happen. Let’s plant 7.8 billion trees for the Earth. Let’s divest from fossil fuels and make cities 100% renewable. Let’s take the momentum from the Paris Climate Summit and build on it.” http://www.earthday.org/#sthash.VBq88cir.dpuf

Then they proposed a series of things that we CAN do. Things that if we take them on as individuals or as a congregation really will make a measurable difference. Things that if we do them, we can be like Honi the Circle Drawer so that there will be carob trees in the next generation, lador vador and beyond.

What are these things? Here are Four Ways, to echo the Four Questions, Four Cups of Wine and Four Children for this Passover Earth Day.

1. Eat less meat (I know—it is a meat Kiddush today, and I thank you for that!)

Why does this make a difference?

It reduces our carbon footprint. (A side note, trying to type carbon and carob is hard as a dyslexic, but maybe that is important too!) Simon’s old More with Less Cookbook, which we used extensively during the SNAP Challenge reminds us that for every pound of beef, it takes 11 pounds of grain. Something to think about the next time I cut into my beloved steak. The UN Food and Agriculture Organization estimates that the meat industry generates nearly one-fifth of the man-made greenhouse gas emissions that are acceleration climate change worldwide.

It minimizes water usage. An estimated 1800 to 2500 gallons of water go into a single pound of beef. Soy tofu produced in California requires only 220 gallons of water per pound.

It reduces fossil fuel dependence. About 40 calories of fossil fuel energy are needed for every calorie of beef in the US compared with only 2.2 calories of fossil fuel for plant based protein.

I am not suggesting that we give up meat completely. Others can make that argument. But what if we declare one day meatless.

2. Buy local produce—one of the best things about Elgin is the Harvest Market. And our local CSAs. Use them. Tonight as part of the seder, every family will go home with a packet of seeds. Grow them. Bring the produce here and we will donate them together with the produce from our community garden produce to Food for Greater Elgin.

3. Start composting

Since we now have a thriving community garden, I am bringing the composting bin back. I think I have located a spot closer to the kitchen so it is easy and becomes second nature. Similarly, we are going to get a rain barrel and have the Torah school students decorate it so that we can use the rain water for watering the community garden.

4. Use less fossil fuels and reduce our carbon footprint

I have talked about this before and I am sure Yossi will love this one. The congregation that Simon and I met in, Temple Emanuel of the Merrimack Valley, has the first solar Ner Tamid, Eternal Light, in the country. Rabbi Everett Gendler, quite the visionary, felt stronger that as a symbol the Ner Tamid should be driven by solar power. They dedicated that Ner Tamid on Chanukah 1978 http://gendlergrapevine.org/solar-ner-tamid/

Since the sun is eternal, we most certainly hope, especially on this Pesach Earth Day, It is a simple process and fairly inexpensive. Commit with me to get this done by Chanukah 2016. There are other ways that we at CKI can reduce our carbon footprint.

Why does this matter? How are these Jewish issues?

Because, as I said early, we are Jews are commanded to be stewards of the earth, caretakers with G-d in this glorious creation. We cannot just rely only on G-d. We must be partners.
The underlying principle is Bal Taschit, to not destroy. This comes from the verse in Deuteronomy, part of Sarah’s Bat Mitzvah Torah portion that says, “Justice, Justice shall you pursue.” It then gives us the rules for engaging in war. “When you besiege a city for many days to wage war against it, to capture it, you shall not destroy its trees by wielding an ax against them, for you may eat from them, but you shall not cut them down.” (Deut 20:19-21).

As Yonatan Neril of Chabad explains, “The general prohibition is against needless destruction, derived from the verse on fruit trees, concerns not destroying directly or indirectly anything that may be of use to people. It applies to wasting energy, clothing, water, money or more. According to the Talmud, this prohibition includes wastefully burning oil or fuel. Many rishonim (commentators between c. 1000 and 1500 CE) conclude that wasting any resources of benefit to humans is a Torah prohibition. For example, Maimonides (1135–1204, Spain) explains that a Jew is forbidden to “smash household goods, tear clothes, demolish a building, stop up a spring, or destroy articles of food.”3 Rabbeinu Yerucham (1280–1350, Spain) rails against wasting water when others are in need. The Talmudic sage Rabbi Yishmael makes another logical inference: if the Torah warns us not to destroy fruit trees, then we should be even more careful about not destroying the fruit itself.4 Currently, in Israel, Rabbi Moshe Yitzhak Forehand notes that all rabbinic authorities agree, based on this teaching, that it is forbidden from the Torah to destroy edible fruit. This applies to all food that is fit to be eaten, and not only the fruit of trees.” (http://www.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/1892179/jewish/Judaism-and-Environmentalism-Bal-Tashchit.htm)

This not wasting is important. So Simon and I are working on another challenge following up on the SNAP Challenge. The Zero Waste Passover Challenge started by my friend and colleague, Rabbi Cindy Enger. We are using stuff up, We are not wasting food.

Because really, we realized in doing the SNAP Challenge and again in preparing for the study session yesterday on Birkat Hamazon, that there is enough food to go around, if we did a better job distributing it and managing it.

Birkat Hamazon has a seemingly inexplicable line. “I was young and now I am old and I have never seen a just man hungry or his children beg for bread.” (Psalm 37:25) This verse has puzzled me since I was in college. How is it possible to say this line when so clearly there is hunger—and it has only gotten worse? Some people just delete it. They just don’t say it. Which is exactly what my Hillel rabbi did and what the editors of our prayer book did. They simply don’t include it.

What if, instead of past tense, this is future tense? That it is aspirational and full of hope? What if, as has been suggested, there really is enough food to go around, so that it is not G-d’s fault, rather we need to be better partners, better stewards, in figuring out global distribution channels. I am proud to have played a small role getting Congressman Peter Roskam to sign onto the Global Food Security Act. I consider that the highest outcome of the SNAP Challenge. He was the last congressman of either party to do so in Illinois. But that is only a start. We need to exercise a collective will to end hunger, right here in Elgin with its 19,000 food insecure people, in America and around the world.

Part of that fits squarely with this message of Earth Day Passover. Again, from Yonatan Neril, “According to a 2011 study commissioned by the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations, “Roughly one-third of the food produced in the world for human consumption every year—approximately 1.3 billion tons—gets lost or wasted. In the United States, less than three percent of this waste was recovered and recycled…The environmental impact of this waste occurs not only in the garbage dumps where it is deposited, but also in the resources used to produce it. Fossil fuels, water and land are all required to produce food..By heeding the Torah’s call not to waste, we can therefore generate ecological, social and financial benefits.”

So this Earth Day Passover, commit to live out our Judaism more fully. By being that very caretaker of the earth that G-d demands. Then our children and our children’s children can continue to gather around the seder table and tell the story of what the Lord did for me, for each of us, when we went forth from Egypt. Then our children and our children’s children will continue to reap the benefits of Honi’s carob tree.