On Monday we have a very special opportunity to see a wonder of the natural world. An eclipse. Perhaps some of you have made plans to travel to the path of totality. Others of you may be here in Chicagoland. The weather is sounding better than it has been this past week and we may actually get to see it! Here in Chicagoland they believe we will be between 90% and 95%. It should be “awesome,” in the true sense of that word. 

But the ancients, who were away of eclipses found them scary. A bad omen. A sign of things that are worse to come. There isn’t even a blessing for an eclipse. In 2017 I spoke at length about this, https://www.theenergizerrabbi.org/2017/08/22/finding-joy-in-sight-reah/ And I  went to University of Chicago to watch it myself with myself. Be very careful. Use those glasses. Be safe. I plan to pack a picnic of moon foods; oreo cookies, black and white cookies, cheese, pizza and finally on the way home, vanilla ice cream with dark chocolate sauce.  I want the snacks to be simple–and memorable. The next eclipse isn’t until 2044.

Wait, no blessing for an eclipse? That makes no sense. There is even a blessing for an earthquake as people learned today. There are actually two from the Talmud: Berachot 54a: 

Baruch Atta Ado-nai Elo-hai-nu Melech ha’olam osei ma’asei vereisheet.
בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה’ אֱ-לֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם עוֹשֶׂה מַעֲשֵׂה בְרֵאשִׁית
translation: Blessed are You, Lord our G‑d, Ruler of the universe, who reenacts the works of creation. 

Baruch Atta Ado-nai Elo-hai-nu Melech ha’olam shekocho ugevurato malei olam.
בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה’ אֱ-לֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם שֶׁכֹּחוֹ וּגְבוּרָתוֹ מָלֵא עוֹלָם
translation: Blessed are You, Lord our G‑d, Ruler of the universe, whose power and might fill the world. 

This leads to another question. This translation of Baruch is Blessed. That’s my preferred translation. Siddur Sim Shalom consistently uses “Praised.” A couple of the haggadot I am reviewing seem to alternate. This is jarring to me. Do you hear a difference between blessed and praised? When we look at the Barchu, the formal call to worship, the first word is barchu, in the command form. Praise G-d. Bless G-d. You bless G-d. Then the echo is Blessed or Praised are You… Does G-d need our blessing, our praise? Our kids once described this call and response, the call to worship as “Here I am G-d, ready or not here I come.” 

The paragraph after the Barchu is a prayer about creation. In the evening service it is called “Ma’ariv Aravim.” and it is quite poetic in the Hebrew. The G-d who evenings the evening. The G-d who makes evening. Who rolls light away from darkness and darkness away from light. Who alternates the seasons and set the stars on their appointed rounds.” 

Acknowledging the Creator, especially at a time of possible dread, seems appropriate. So Ma’ariv Aravim could be a choice for the eclipse. Another could be the shehechianu said for many firsts and for many things we have not done in a long time. Witnessing an eclipse, not seen by many of us since 2017 would qualify:
 

Blessed are You, Ruler of the Universe, who has kept us alive and sustained us and enabled us to reach this very moment.  

But let’s pause for a moment. If we were writing our own blessing what would it say: 

Blessed are You, Ruler of the Universe, of Time and Space, who creates the greater light to rule by day and the lesser by night, who creates ongoing beauty and enables us to witness it without fear, who allows us the knowledge to understand that the sun will return again.  

Interestingly, Roger Price wrote a very similar piece last summer for RitualWell: https://ritualwell.org/blog/solar-eclipse-deserves-blessing/?goal=0_29b2b1aacf-5b39afaa9b-62609181&mc_cid=5b39afaa9b&mc_eid=36d93702de  

Note: After delivering this on Friday, I learned that the Conservative Movement in their exploring Judaism had published something on the eclipse in 2021. They use the same two blessings as for an earthquake: https://www.exploringjudaism.org/learning/halakhah/cjls/orach-chayim/what-blessing-do-i-recite-over-an-eclipse/ 

Note #2: Our congregation has a vision statement that includes lifelong learning as one for its planks. After I wrote this I learned that a eclipse cannot happen unless it is a new moon. Rosh Hodesh Nissan begins Monday night! It makes perfect sense. So another blessing might be the hopes which we expressed on Shabbat in the “Announcing the New Month, page 150 in Siddur Sim Shalom. May this ew month reawaken in us joy and blessing. A peaceful life with goodness and blessing, sustenance and physical vitality…May the Holy One bless this new month with life and peace, joy and gladness, deliverance and consolation.” (I would be more than OK if those hopes went for more than the month!)

Leviticus is tough. Some don’t like it at all. Why do we bother to read it? Why did the Israelites offer sacrifices? Why did much of it address the priests, the cohanim? What does it have to do with us? Who cares?  

One of the simple answers is hidden in the text tells us, G-d spoke to Moses saying. So if G-d said so, it must be important. Sort of like when a kid asks her  mother why do I have to and the mom answers, “Because I said so.” But that isn’t satisfactory to the child and isn’t to us. 

There are several words for sacrifice. Korban comes from the root, “To draw close.” How do we draw close to G-d today? We recite prayers, we light candles, we bake challah, we perform rituals, we sing, we meditate. We open our hearts. And sometimes we have a flash of insight, we sense that G-d is close. But those moments seem fleeting. The rituals are designed to allow us to more consistently experience the Divine. 

The translation in Etz Hayyim say that “this is the ritual of the sacrifice of well-being. The word is actually Torat zevah shlomim.” But here the word Torah doesn’t mean Torah scroll. Rather it comes from the same root that means to aim, direct, to cast,, shoot, which becomes to show the way, to instruct. So these are the rituals. A way to draw close to G-d.

Another word is avodah. Avodah comes from the root that means sacrifice, service, work. We are told in Pirke Avot that the world is sustained by three things: Al shlosha devarim. Al HaTorah, Al ha’avodah, Al gemilut chasadim. On Torah, On sacrifice, On acts of lovingkindness. What can we offer G-d? What does G-d need from us? Maybe the better question is what can we offer each other? 

One more term for today: zevach shlomim. According to Etz Hayim it is an offering of well-being. Shlomim comes from the same root as shalom, which we know means hello, good bye and peace but comes from a sense of wholeness, completeness. It is like when we offer the mi sheberach prayer and wish someone a refua shlema, a full, complete healing.  

The Oxford online Dictionary defines well-being as the state of being comfortable, healthy, or happy. “an improvement in the patient’s well-being” 

So a zevah shlomim offers us an opportunity to feel that sense of happiness, contentment, fullness.  

The next phrase in our text is zevach todah, an offering of thanksgiving. We know the word todah from modern Hebrew. Todah means thanks. These offerings give us an opportunity to feel gratitude, to say thank you. To G-d, to our fellows, to the word at large. Because we know from modern research that gratitude leads to that sense of wholeness, of fullness, of drawing close to G-d.  

Rabbi Jennifer Singer reminded me that what Leviticus is begging us to do is to draw close to G-d, to think beyond ourselves with acts of lovingkindness,, to live every day fully, completely. She says, “And we live every day as if it matters. Because it does. My little corner of the world feels safe and calm, but there are people and events swirling around us that are roiling the seas and sending tidal waves of fear and grief. Even here, I feel it. Tendrils of hatred filter into my world and as much as I would like to withdraw, I cannot. We cannot.”  

Then she adds one of my favorite stories from the Talmud.  “Yohanan ben Zakkai, once said: “If you are holding a sapling in your hand and someone tells you, ‘Come quickly, the Messiah is here!’ first finish planting the tree and then go to greet the Messiah.” 

Come draw close to G-d. Come do acts of lovingkindness. Come plant a sapling. Come help bring the Messiah. This weekend and every weekend.  

Today is one of four weeks leading up to Passover where we have an extra portion to read from a second scroll. This reading comes from the Book of Deuteronomy 25:17-19 and comes on the Shabbat just before Purim. Just three verses. Why before Purim? Because the Talmud teaches that Haman was a descendent of the Amalekites.  

Remember what Amalek did to you on your journey, after you left Egypt—how, undeterred by fear of God, he surprised you on the march, when you were famished and weary, and cut down all the stragglers in your rear. Therefore, when your God יהוה grants you safety from all your enemies around you, in the land that your God יהוה is giving you as a hereditary portion, you shall blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven. Do not forget! 

Remember not to forget. The Torah is serious about this. Very serious. There is something reprehensible about attacking the rear guard, the famished, the weary, the children and women and the aged. The ones who can’t quite keep up. Full stop. Then and now. 

We draw a line from the King of the Amalekites, to King Saul, as we just heard in the haftarah, to Haman, to Hitler…our texts say that in every generation an enemy rises up against us. We even have jokes about it. “They tried to kill us, we survived, let’s eat.” And yet, it’s really not so funny. 

Much ink has been spilled trying to figure out why there is so much anti-semitism and what we can do about it. I don’t know that I can explain it any better than Jonathan Greenblatt from the ADL or Bari Weiss or Rabbi Evan Moffic all of who have written extensively on this topic. I am distressed by the recent article in the Atlantic whose headline suggests that the Golden Age of American Jews is Ending. This article has been shared with me (I subscribe so I had already seen it) with people who describe themselves on the left and the right. https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2024/04/us-anti-semitism-jewish-american-safety/677469/?utm_campaign=the-atlantic&utm_content=edit-promo&utm_medium=social&utm_source=facebook  

That’s relevent because we are now fighting anti-semitism on the left and the right. Some are surprised because we thought we were past all this. Our students in college are feeling it the most. And kids in middle schools and high schools feel it too. THe “jokes” are reprehensible. The bullying and threats of physical violence are beyond scary. Make no mistake, you are not alone. If you have a problem please reach out to me. And I have been talking with administrations in U46, D-300 and D-301. We have students and staff in 11 different school districts, so I am sure there is more work to do. Remember, not to forget. 

But there is a danger in this text. We are told to remember. And that we should take an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth etc. but that was seen even by Talmudic times as monetary damages. In other places we are told that “vengeance is Mine,” sayeth the Lord. We are not told to seek revenge. We are told to love our neighbors as ourselves and to not hold a grudge. We are told that G-d forgives to the 1000th generation but for some sins there is no forggiveness to the 3rd and 4th generation. That is what I focused my rabbinic thesis on. As part of that I looked at domestic violence which sometimes extends from generation to generation. I examined German Jewish reconciliation because we are now in the third and fourth generation after the Holocaust. Is reconciliation even possible? And, almost unbelievably, I researched generational trauma in the Israeli Palestinian crisis.  

I don’t have an answer. But this I do know. What we are doing isn’t working. And my heart is breaking. It breaks with every report of sexual violence perpetrated on October 7th. I stand with organizations like Hadassah and NCJW who have decried it and have pushed the UN to finally acknowledge it. It breaks with my niece whose cousin is still a hostage. It breaks with every family that has been displaced in the north and the south. With every student that is struggling to figure out schooling in a hotel room. With every business owner that has had to shutter their business or who has been called up in the reserves. And my heart breaks for the Bibas family, those adorable red heads are spending Purim in a tunnel if they are even alive. 

This is the poem prayer I wrote for the AJR Haggadah Supplement, Seder Interrupted. 

Midrash (from Megillah 10)
“The Egyptians were drowning in the sea. At the same time, the angels wanted to sing before God, and the Lord, God, said to them: ‘My creations are drowning, and you are singing before me?'” 

A Plague Poem for This Moment:
My creatures are drowning…
Why are you singing?
A drop of wine
A drop of blood
Not just 10 for the plagues
Too many drops to count this year
Maybe every year
A drop of wine
A drop of blood
We rejoice with each hostage freed
Out of the narrow places
A drop of wine
A drop of blood
A tunnel is a narrow place
A very narrow place
We weep for each life lost
Child, woman, man
Every Gazan, Every Israeli
Every soldier 
Every “non-combatant”
Every victim from any country
Every person
Each created in the image of the Divine
A drop of wine
A drop of blood
We weep for each victim
Each victim of terror
Each victim of sexual assault
Each victim of displacement
Each victim of brutality
Each victim of promises made
And promises shattered
Each victim searching for water
And searching for food
And searching for safety
Searching for school
And searching for healing
Each victim of fear
We pray that soon
All will be out of the tunnels
Out of the narrow places
G-d admonished the angels
“My creatures are drowning, and you rejoice?”
A drop of wine
A drop of blood
Too, too many drops this year
We cannot sing this year
Next year may all be free
Out of the narrow places. 

Years from now, we will continue to remember not to forget what happened on October 7th. There will be prayers. Lord, hear our prayers. Sh’ma Koleinu. 

This week we hear the very first verse of our parsha. If we listen very carefully, we might hear the silent sound of alef. “Vayikra Adonai el Moshe. And G-d called to Moses.” Calling all of us to what? It’s like the still, small voice that Elijah talks about.  

In another time period of great threat to the Jewish people and a seismic shift away from the very things we talk about in the Book of Leviticus, namely animal sacrifice, we learn this story after the destruction of the Temple,  

“Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakai was once walking with his disciple, Rabbi Yehoshua, near Jerusalem after the destruction of the Temple. Rabbi Yehoshua looked at the Temple ruins and said: Alas for us!! The place that atoned for the sins of the people Israel lies in ruins! Then Rabbi Yochannan ben Zakkai spoke to him these words of comfort: Be not grieved, my son. There is another equally meritorious way of gaining ritual atonement, even though the Temple is destroyed. We can still gain ritual atonement through acts of loving kindness. For it is written (Hoshea 6:6) “Loving kindness I desire, not sacrifice.” (Avot D’Rabbi Natan 4:5 as cited in Siddur Sim Shalom page 68) 

Sunday we will read the Megilah. This time the Uncensored Esther. The whole megilah. In English so we really understand it. Will we really understand this short book of 10 chapters that focuses on partying, drinking, sex, power and money? Is it an ancient text or current events? Where or where is G-d?  

Rabbi Rachel Barenblatt teaches this: 

“But maybe the subtext of the Megillah – the fact that God’s very name is missing – can teach us that a violent counter-response to trauma isn’t the right path. I don’t know how the whole Jewish people could go about the psychological and spiritual work of healing the trauma of being hated, of being attacked, of facing annihilation over and over. But I think that if we can do that work, it will bring us closer to making the divine presence manifest in the sacred text of all creation. (https://velveteenrabbi.blogs.com/blog/purim/?fbclid=IwAR2h7XZpc5guvVuRXvZDvQDtJpdygl6Tn3YBruozA_4CQIuXzA7z-0wOE-c)  

Would it seem just to totally wipe out Hamas just like Saul was commanded to kill the King of the Amalekites? Maybe. Is it possible? Maybe. But what do we create in its wake? More generations of hatred leading to even more destruction at a later date? That seems to be the message of the 13 Attributes of the Divine. We are to be like G-d, full of lovingkindness, forgiving iniquity, transgression and sin. But we can only do that if we feel safe. Today, nobody feels completely safe.  

Rising anti-semitism is real. The war in Israel and Gaza is real. Real people are being attacked. Real people have died. We are still here. (most of us) We are still surviving. Why? We, like Esther, must be in this time and place for a reason. Like Esther, find your voice. Speak out. Call your elected officials. Donate to the organizations that are doing the work on the ground. Make plans to visit Israel. Be like Esther.  See if you can hear the silent sound of alef and what you are being uniquely called to do. 

PS: Imagine my surprise when I got an email from a friend in Israel this weekend telling me that a previous version of my reflections on Amalek got read by an Orthodox shul in Hebrew this Shabbat. This is the one that was cited. https://www.theenergizerrabbi.org/2014/03/17/shabbat-zachor-remembering-amalek-and-moving-onto-purim/?fbclid=IwAR1KcZ-m-M2_kmvMlClCiZaYMCq-ey1y_VH5nsnPQ2TZoCwRejBTuBXowtQ
Even in this time and this place. I hope i brought people some comfort. My friend said this…”Imagine my surprised followed by joy on hearing your name from the bimah.” You never know why I write these.. 

It is hard to sing of oneness when our world is not complete,
when those who have once brought wholeness to our life have gone,
and naught but memory can fill the emptiness their passing leaves behind.
But memory can tell us only what we were, in company with those we loved;
it cannot help us find what each of us,
alone, must now become.

Yet no one is really alone; those who live no more echo still within our thoughts and words,
and what they did is part of what we have become.
We do best homage to our dead when we live our lives most fully,
even in the shadow of our loss.

Mishkan Tefilah based on Gates of Prayer

“This opening line, I believe, is a callback to the Sh’ma, our declaration of God’s unity in the world and our unity with God: Hear, O Israel! Adonai is our God and Adonai is One. In all the tumult of life and of Jewish life in particular, the Sh’ma remains a steadfast declaration of the unity in the world. Rabbi Levy acknowledges that in our times of greatest grief, it can feel nearly impossible to sense that oneness. And his sentiments capture where I am at this moment. I feel broken. The world feels incomplete. It’s hard for me to sing of oneness.” https://www.bethaam.org/it-is-hard-to-sing-of-oneness/

Rabbi Jared Saks wrote those words in his d’var Torah toward the beginning of the pandemic, when we really didn’t know much of what was happening. That’s how I feel. The world is incomplete. Not whole. I feel broken. AndI’ll admit it, despite knowing this prayer for decades, I missed the connection between the Sh’ma and its call for oneness and this prayer. It is indeed hard to sing of oneness in this time and place. And yet we must. And we did. The worldwide Sh’ma on Thursday was a very powerful experience. Thinking that people all over the world at the same time were pausing and saying Sh’ma was affirming. Even more powerful was hearing my Bar Mitzvah student do it later in the day. It was a real from generation to generation moment.

This week we will mark Purim. A holiday where the Talmud teaches us that we should say “Be Happy It’s Adar.” It is aspirational, because not everyone is happy. Why should we be happy? Because the Jews 2000 years ago survived in Shushan. Or maybe more than in Shushan. King Ashauraus ruled over 127 provinces from Hodu to Kush, from India to Ethiopia. It was a worldwide empire.

The Talmudic discussion is found in Ta’anit 29a. It is part of larger discussion about the month of Av, the month we mark Tisha B’av and the destruction of the Holy Temples. The Gemorah teaches that when Av enters we decrease rejoicing. But after a very painful story about the destruction of the Temple and the cohanim giving up and throwing themselves into the fire to perish, Rav Yehuda quotes Rav, “When Adar comes rejoicing increases.”

My study partner and I argue about the purpose of Judaism. She says that it is not to find happiness or even joy, it is to find meaning in life. Our religious observances, prayer, Shabbat, kashrut, our acts of gimilut chasadim add structure to our lives that helps us find that meaning. I actually don’t disagree. But finding meaning can also bring us joy.

Joy and happiness are something I think about a lot. It comes from having the middle name Joy. I have a coaster next to my writing area at home that says, Choose Joy. The words Joy, Joy, Joy hang over my mantal. I have any number of books, mostly Jewish on the topic and my favorite, an introduction to the Kabbalah is called Finding Joy. I am surrounded by Joy. All sorts of things bring me joy: the daffodils blooming. The beautiful (and short lived) snow this week. A surprise kiss from my husband. A phone call from a friend. A quiet morning writing in a sunlit room. Yet all of these seem to be fleeting. I am not sure it is possible to sustain joy.

This year people have asked an important question, and I have tried to answer, How can we celebrate Purim in the middle of a war, when the hostages haven’t all been released, when there are so many, so very many casualties. So many children. And the answer is, we have to. For thousands of years, we have celebrated, for the very reason we have survived. Not everyone. But many. They even celebrated in the concentration camps and in the DP camps. And yes, it was documented. https://www.yadvashem.org/yv/en/exhibitions/purim/index.asp

One could say we have continued to celebrate from Hodu to Kush.

So rejoice we will. It won’t be easy. And if you can’t that is still OK, but we will as a community. We will hold you up. Because we are told so in the Talmud. Because it adds meaning to our lives, and because even in Israel, there have been weddings and brises and a pause, to celebrate Purim, even in the midst of sadness. It may be somewhat muted and it may be fleeting. But in Israel they will still celebrate and we will here too.

This is the weekend we toast, faithfully, every year my Irish Jewish grandmother. The one I am named for Marguette Sullivan Sicher Levy. She was born in Ireland in County Cork at the turn of the previous century, and she came to this country, to Milwaukee and was adopted by a Jewish family in Chicago. The L. Fish furniture people. She was an amazing woman who I didn’t know very well. She worked, or maybe it was volunteered at the Women’s Exchange in Saint Louis as an accomplished seamstress (but a lousy cook I am told). As part of that, she and her husband took in a young girl from Germany. Greta came to live with my mother and aunt when she was in 3rd grade.  My mother and Greta were in the same Girl Scout troop.  

In many places this Shabbat is called Girl Scout Sabbath and yes, there will be Girl Scout cookies at the end of the evening. My grandmother was the first cookie mom anywhere in the country. I doubted this story until my mother’s best friends who were also in that troop confirmed it one year. My mother and aunt were both leaders, as was I, who remain a life long Girl Scout.  I learned much from my years of Girl Scouting, Much about camping and the out-of-doors. Much about the entrepreneurial nature of cookie sales. Much about leadership.

Tomorrow, we finish reading the book of Exodus, Sh’mot, which means Names. Exodus does a pretty good job of preserving some of the women’s names: Shifra, Puah, Miriam, Yocheved, Zipporah. All of them are strong women in their own unique ways.  

At the end of a book, while everyone is standing we say, “Chazak, chazak v’nitchazek.” Be strong, be strong and be strengthened. It is an aspirational blessing. We need that these days. 

What does it mean to be strong?  

• having the power to move heavy weights or perform other physically demanding tasks. “she cut through the water with her strong arms” 

• 2. able to withstand great force or pressure. “cotton is strong, hard-wearing, and easy to handle” 

 In Hebrew there are at least three words for strong: chazak, koach and oz.  

Oz we know from the song from the Book of Psalms, “Ozi v’zimrat Yah. G-d is my strength and my might and my song.” 

Koach, we know from the greeting, “Yasher Koach. More power to you” or more accurately “May your strength be enriched” or “May your strength be straight.” 

We also talk about a person who is gibor, strong. 

 Chazak not only has the sense of be strong but also: 

• to be bound to
• to be attached to
• to support
• to preserve
• to strengthen
• to have courage
• to hold fast
• to encourage
• to retain / to keep
• to prove helpful
• to uphold
   

 At one point the Girl Scouts ran an ad campaign with the tag line, “Girl Scouts, where girls grow strong.” I think my mother objected to this line. Her argument: Girls are already strong. Perhaps it should be “where girls grow stronger.”   

 So when we wish someone chazak, chazak v’nitchazek, be strong, be strong and be strengthened, what do we mean? 

 May we strengthen each other. May we be there, one for another. May we find a way to keep going and never give up.  May we have courage.

In preparing for this discussion, I found another Rabbi, Rabbi Ari Lev who also was writing about “Chazak, chazak v’nitchazak.” He found an article written by Paston Eri Wathan 

After Easter to express her thanks for her leadership, much like I do after the High Holy Days:  
“In writing a letter of gratitude my people, I wrote that it takes a whole village of volunteers to make all of this happen…. But then I found myself hitting the backspace button. Because “volunteer” is not quite the right word for what our people do at church… In other words, it’s what you do at a place that is important to you–but not at a place that belongs to you… I’m not sure the word “volunteer” does justice to the depths contained in the work people actually do in their churches…” 

He said and I echo: This resonates deeply for me. Synagogue leadership is not about volunteering, it is about service. I am extremely grateful to each and every person who has given of their time and skill… I offer you each the same blessing that we use to mark completion in our Torah cycle.” https://www.kol-tzedek.org/rabbis-blog/chazak-chazak-vnitchazek  

We know that the rabbis taught there are no extra words in Torah. While this isn’t Torah per se, why do we repeat chazak? I have been taught that the first chazak represents individual strength. We hope that being part of a community, feeling connected inspires each of us to be strong, to be resilient, to cultivate our own inner strength. The second chazak is the collective strength, the strength of the community that comes from taking the individual strengths and putting them together. There is nothing we can’t do if we do it together for the good and the strength of the community. We can lean on the strength of one another and the gifts that we bring to the community, We have the opportunity to see that in all sorts of ways here at CKI. Through acts of lovingkindness, through study together, through those of you who take an active role in leading services, Or just by your showing up, week after week and lending your strength to the wider community. The last part, “v’nitchazek” urges us to be strong into the future. To actively strengthen one another, that it is ongoing and intentional. We strive to create an environment where everyone feels valued, included and supported. We feel we belong. That’s when everyone feels strengthened. As I said this is an aspirational blessing. We live in hope of creating just such a community, Just such a world.  

Maybe the tagline of Congregation Kneseth Israel should be Chazak, Chazak nitchazek, Be strong, be strong and be strengthened. CKI, where we all grow stronger.  

This Shabbat, called Shabbat Shekalim, one of four Shabbatot where we add an extra reading from Torah before we get to Passover, is confusing. In the extra reading we learn that the Israelites took a census by charging every adult male twenty and up a half shekel membership offering. A tax really. Just a half shekel. Not more, not less. Affordable for everyone. From the very poorest to the richest person.  

But then there is our main reading, also from Exodus: 

“So, the whole community of the Israelites left Moses’ presence. And everyone who excelled in ability and everyone whose spirit was moved came, bringing to יהוה an offering for the work of the Tent of Meeting and for all its service and for the sacral Men and women, all whose hearts moved them, all who would make an elevation offering of gold to יהוה, came bringing brooches, earrings, rings, and pendants —gold objects of all kinds.” 

That very first word, vayakhel, “And Moses assembled, convoked…” is how we get the phrase Kehila. A kehila kedosha, a holy assembly. 

Let me underscore that. Women and men. ALL. Whose heart moves them. The whole community of Israel. This is something you want to do, not something you have to do. Not rich or poor. Not male or female. Everyone. It is everyone’s job to keep this place going,  

Including the women. How appropriate that we read this during Women’s History Month. Often times we talk about the covenant is being passed down by the women. We see that Rebecca (I wrote a whole master’s thesis about that), we see that with Hagar, who actually names G-d. We see that with Miriam and with Zipporah. We see that with Ruth. And, as we approach Purim, we most definitely see that with Esther.  

Now it may also be true that Moses had a woman problem. We see him change the language, preserved earlier in Exodus. G-d gives Moses the instructions of how they are to prepare for receiving the Torah. “Moses, “Go to the people and warn them to stay pure today and tomorrow. Let them wash their clothes. Let them be ready for the third day; for on the third day יהוה will come down, in the sight of all the people, on Mount Sinai. You shall set bounds for the people round about, saying, ‘Beware of going up the mountain or touching the border of it. Whoever touches the mountain shall be put to death without being touched—by being either stoned or shot; beast or person, a trespasser shall not live.’ When the ram’s horn sounds a long blast, they may go up on the mountain.”” (Exodus 19:11-13) 

But then Moses, when he repeats the instruction adds a phrase: “Moses came down from the mountain to the people and warned the people to stay pure, and they washed their clothes. And he said to the people, “Be ready for the third day: [the men among] you should not go near a woman.” (Exodus 19:14-15) 

Do not go near a woman. Say what? That wasn’t in the original instructions. How did Moses dare to change G-d’s words? Or was it a later writer or editor? We may never know but there is a clear shift. 

Similarly, in our current story, while the women bring their gold and their copper most likely from their mirrors, Moses isn’t sure he wants to use it to make the basins for the priests to wash. Why? The midrash may explain. Trust me you are old enough to handle this: 

According to the Jewish Women’s Archive: “Two verses in the Hebrew Bible refer to women ministering in the Tabernacle (Exodus 38:8 and 1 Samuel 2:22). These women gathered around the entrance and donated their copper mirrors to the making of the basin where the priests would wash before entering the sanctuary. Yet neither the nature of their service nor the original purpose of the mirrors are known. The historical critical approach conjectures that these women served as guards at the Tabernacle’s entrance, warding off evil with their mirrors. The midrash, however, retells the story of the women’s mirrors with which they seduced their husbands in the fields. Despite Moses objection, God urges that the mirrors be accepted because it was they that “raised up the hosts” of Israel in Egypt (Exodus 12:41, 51”). 

Yes, the women slaves in Israel used their mirrors to seduce their husbands and that’s why there were baby Israelites. The women midwives, Shifra and Puah, courageous ones, delivered those babies, ensuring that the Israelite people would survive. Those mirrors allowed the covenant to continue!  

The women giving up their gold and their silver and yes, those copper mirrors, also allowed the covenant to continue and for full worship in the mishkan to happen. They were gifts of the heart. From the women. We are often told that it is the women who refused to give up their gold for the golden calf and that’s why we have Rosh Hodesh, a half holiday dedicated to women, which begins tonight.  

Why were these gifts requested to build the mishkan? Ultimately to keep the lights on. To allow the people to worship G-d.  

Motel 6 used to have an ad, ““I’m Tom Bodett for Motel 6, and we’ll leave the light on for you.” It was welcoming. You knew you had a place to lay your head.  

It reminds me of a story, and I can’t find the original source. Several rabbis wanted to use it this week. This is the kind of thing we do for fun. So here is one version of the story: 

“In a mountain village many years ago, there was a Jewish nobleman who wanted to leave a legacy for people of his town. So he decided to build a synagogue. 

In the course of his planning, the nobleman decided that no one should see the plans for the building until it was finished. He built a wall around the entire area, and swore the workers to secrecy. They worked day and night. And the people of the town would gather around the walls, wondering what was inside.

Finally, the work was completed, and the people began to enter. What they saw astounded them. No one could remember so beautiful a synagogue anywhere in the world. They marveled at its magnificent windows, and admired its intricate designs. They stood in awe of its craftsmanship and attention to detail. 

But then, one of the crowd noticed a serious flaw. “Where are the lamps?” she asked. “What will provide the lighting?” The crowd looked around, and indeed, there were no lamps. They began to talk amongst themselves, “He’s built such a beautiful building, but forgotten to provide any light, so that we can see when we worship.” The murmuring grew louder and louder.

Until finally, the nobleman held up his hand to silence the congregation. He pointed to a series of brackets that hung all along the walls of the synagogue. And he handed a lamp to each family. “The lamps,” he said, “belong not to the synagogue but to you. Whenever you come here, you should bring your lamp, so that your light will fill this place of prayer. And, each time you are not here, a part of the synagogue will be dark. Your community is relying on your light.” https://www.kolami.ca/media-galleries/rabbis-messages?post_id=161618  

But this isn’t just some old story. My colleague and friend, Rabbi Jonathan Zimet, whose father was also a rabbi tells this story: “A week before Krystallnacht, it so happened that the Ner Tamid developed a short.   The custodian didn’t have time to troubleshoot and fix it, so he rigged up a battery to the light.  The next day or so, at Krystallnacht, the Germans smashed the stuff and cut the electricity to this shul.  (They couldn’t just bomb that shul because it was so close to the Telegraph office).  The next day, Germans came by and saw that the Ner Tamid was still burning!” 

Once here, at CKI, a member came to me all aghast. The Ner Tamid was out. What do we do? It is actually pretty simple. We change the bulb. Well, not me. Too high for me. Someone else changes the bulb, We all have an obligation to watch the lights. That is exactly what happened. The light bulb got changed. 

This coming week, we will have new lighting replacing the old florescent lighting, It shall save CKI lots of money and it is not costing us anything. We thank for Robin arranging for it.  This is part of how we build a kehila kedosha, a holy community. It is a very real way that we keep the lights on. So consider your half shekel tax and your gifts from the heart. And know that is how we build and maintain our kehila kedosha.   

My friend and colleague Rabbi Laurie Gold has often talked about my mother. She was amazed that my mother never liked a poem prayer that we read on Friday night and is often read at women’s funerals. A Woman of Valor. Eisher Chayil.  

Usually attributed to KIng Solomon because it is in the Book of Proverbs, many say it was the eulogy that Abraham lauded Sarah with. This is the translation in the old Union Prayer Book: 

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

This is model we hold out as to what the ideal woman is.  

My mother did not like it. She was adamant that it reflected her vision of feminism.  

I disagreed with my mother. Not the first and still not the last time. It stood on its own as a paradigm and it gets even stronger in the fuller version when it includes  lines like:  

She seeks out wool and linen, and her hands work willingly. She is like a merchant’s ships; from afar she brings her sustenance. She rises while it is still nighttime,…She considers a field and buys it; from the fruit of her handiwork she plants a vineyard. She girds her loins with might and strengthens her arms. She senses that her enterprise is good, so her lamp is not extinguished at night. She puts her hand to the distaff, and her palms support the spindle. 

Sounds like she is the perfect business woman of her day.  

Recently I purchased a book, Heros with Chutzpah and I have been thinking about these 101 women and men ever since.  It includes such women as Sarah Silverman and Gal Gadot, Golda Meir and Gertrude Elion.  

On this International Women’s Day, I realize that I am standing here tonight because of so many trailblazers, changemakers and rebels.  

Today I stand on the shoulders of so many: 

I stand on the shoulders of so many women. My mom, a research scientist by training who was on a team that invented Metformin, oral insulin, the insulin pump and Ensure. My cousin thought she was the original women’s libber and would never get married. But she did. And it is a good thing. 

Her mom, who I am named for, was a talented seamstress and worked with the Women’s Exchange in Saint Louis which included a sewing room, a tea room and so much more in order to empower other women coming up. As part of her work, she helped resettle Jews escaping from Nazi Germany during those times. 

I stand on the shoulders of Bella Abzug and Golda Meir, 

I stand on the shoulders of Ruth Messinger, Anita Diamant, Rabbi Jill Jacobs and Anat Hoffman.  

I stand on the shoulders of women suffragettes including Gertrude Weil.  

I stand on the shoulders of Rabbi Sally Priesand, Rabbi Amy Eilberg, Rabbi Sandy Sasso. And yes, Rabbi Regina Jonas, the first woman rabbi ordained and who was murdered at Auschwitz.  didn’t realize when I was a college freshman that a woman reading Torah for Jewish Women’s Week was revolutionary, but it was. So I also stand on some women here, people like Blossom Wohl and Adeline Kohlhagen, Ellen Levy and Myra Becker. 

I stand on the shoulders of Rachel Carson, a marine biologist and environmentalist who heeded early warnings and wrote the book Silent Spring. 

I stand on the shoulders of Gluckel of Hamlin, Oznat of Mosul, and Bruiah, wife of Rabbi Meir. 

I stand on the shoulders of Esther, who risked her life and found her voice, to save her people. 

I stand on the shoulders of Ruth, who joined the Jewish people and went wherever we went and showed so much kindness to her mother-in -aw. 

I stand on the shoulders of Deborah, the judge and Ruth Bader Ginsberg too. 

I stand on the shoulders of the daughters of Zelophehad, Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah; who argued that they had rights to inherit property and my mother-in-law who understood property law as a real estate agent and social work. 

I stand on the shoulders of Miriam, who took a timbrel in her hand, and Debbie Friedman, Shirley Lewis, and so many women cantors, singer song writers and poets. 

I stand on the shoulders of Rachel and Leah, sisters, then rivals and then friends> don’t have any sisters. But I stand on the shoulders of my cousins, Amy, Meg and Laurie and  and chevruta partners like Rabbi Linda Shriner-Cahn or my friends that are like sisters, Beryl, Tish and Danise to name just a few. 

I stand on the shoulders of Rebecca who ensured that the covenant continued and all of you who chose to raise your children in the Jewish tradition. 

I stand on the shoulders of Sarah who laughed at G-d and with her son.  

I stand on the shoulders of Hagar who was brave enough to name G-d. 

These are my heroes with chutzpah. One day young girls may write a similar list. I hope that I leave a legacy for them to stand on.

My mother’s favorite prayer wasn’t Eishet Chayil. She had another one. She and my mother-in-law both loved “Grant us Peace” 

Here it is from that same old Union Prayer Book: 

Grant us peace, Thy most precious gift, O Thou eternal source of peace, and enable Israel to be a messenger of peace unto the peoples of the earth. Bless our country that it may ever be a stronghold of peace and be its advocate in the council of nations. May contentment reign within its borders, health, and happiness in its homes. Strengthen the bonds of friendship and fellowship between all the inhabitants of our land. Plant virtue in every soul and may love of Thy name hallow every home and every heart. Inscribe us in the book of life, and grant unto us a year of prosperity and joy. Blessed be Thou, O Lord, Giver of Peace. Amen. 

This was her confirmation speech and she read it at my daughter’s Bat Mitzvah. This prayer seems so apt. In a world experiencing so much pain, so much loss, where we have prayed every week for the hostages, 21 Shabbatot since 10/7, we must also pray for all the victims. Our tradition demands it. Often led by the women. Women like my mom and Simon’s mom who were the peacemakers. Seek peace and pursue it.  This does not mean we don’t continue to mourn the unspeakable tragedy that is continuing to unfold. We must. But our hearts have to be big enough to stand with all women.

Recently the ritual committee decided to add a phrase to the end of Kaddish as many congregations have been doing for decades. It is similar to the line I add to comforting the mourners on Friday night. May G-d comfort you together with all the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem  and all the world. It is similar to the phrases in our own Siddur Sim Shalom: Sim shalom ba’olam, grant universal peace. And in Shalom Rav, the very prayer that gave birth to Grant us peace. The translation in our siddur says Shalom rav al yisrael amcha v’al kol yoshvei tevel. Grant true and lasting peace to your people Israel and to all who dwell on earth. 

Try it with me: v’al kol yoshvei tevel. That is the phrase we will be adding to Kaddish at the very end of Oseh Shalom. Oseh Shalom bimromav, hu ya’aseh shalom aleinu, v’al kol yisrael v’al kol yoshvei tevel, v’imru amen. May G-d who makes peace in the high heavens, make peace here for all of Israel and all the world. And let us say amen. May it be so, speedily and in our day. And may we, based on the models of the women that have come before never lose sight of our humanity and our peacemaking.  

Last night we began a discussion of hiddenness. It seemed appropriate because part of the story of Purim is that G-d was hidden. Esther with Mordechai’s prompting rises to the occasion and saves the Jews. But we never meet G-d in the story itself. G-d remains hidden. 

With the kids we used the story, In G-d’s Hands, by Rabbi Larry Kushner (and Gary Schmidt who turns out to be a professor at Calvin College in Grand Rapids, small world). It is the story of a rich man who falls asleep in shul and wakes up thinking that G-d is telling him to bake 12 loaves of challah as a gift for G-d. He thinks this is strange but does it and doesn’t know where to put them. He settles on placing them in the ark. Hiding them, perhaps? The town’s poor man comes into the sanctuary and prays that he doesn’t know how to feed his family and unless G-d performs a miracle, his family will surely starve. He opens the ark, and wow! 12 loaves of challah! A miracle. This goes on for weeks and weeks until the rabbi spies them. At first they are disappointed. G-d doesn’t really eat my challah? G-d doesn’t really give me challah? But they realize that theirs are the hands of G-d.  

To illustrate this story, we hid Hershey kisses in the ark that we let the kids find. What fun we had. 

Today’s parsha, Ki Tisa, also deals with hiddenness. Moses has been up on the mountain communicating with G-d for a long time. He is hidden from view. The people are scared. Very scared. What if Moses doesn’t come back. What if G-d isn’t really G-d since G-d is hidden from view. They both are. The people beg Aaron to build for them a golden calf, a substitute image for G-d. An idol. For most of us, we think that Aaron who acquiesces to their demands is a bad leader because we know that idol worship is wrong, a sin we are told. But in Pirke Avot, a section the Talmud we learn something different about Aaron.  

Hillel used to say: be of the disciples of Aaron, loving peace and pursuing peace, loving mankind and drawing them close to the Torah. (Pirke Avot 1:2) 

So when Moses, and G-d were both hidden from view, Aaron stepped up and pursued peace.  

G-d is angry about the golden calf and the stiff necked people who needed that kind of reassurance. G-d threatens to destroy the Israelites. Moses talks him off a cliff. Quite literally. 

But Moses, too was angry when he came back down the mountain. So angry   about what had happened in his absence that he smashed the luach, the stone tablets. The Aseret Debrot, The 10 Sayings, Words, Commandments. The very thing he had been up on top of the mountain . Now G-d was angry again and demanded that Moses return to the top of the mountain to receive the commandments again.  

Moses will only go back up that mountain if G-d will reassure him. He wants to know who is going with him. G-d reassures him and says that G-d will go with him and give him rest. (or lighten his burden). Moses wants more. He wants to understand the essential nature of G-d. He wants to see G-d. This hidden G-d. G-d promises to hide Moses in the cleft of the rock and let all G-d’s goodness pass before him. But Moses cannot see G-d’s face and live. (G-d has a face?) Moses can see G-d’s backside (G-d has a back?) and we learn the 13 attributes, the essential nature of G-d. G-d remains hidden but we know so much more.  

Debbie Friedman sang, based on Psalm 29 or Psalm 102, “Don’t hide Your face from me, I’m asking for Your help I call to You, please hear my prayers, O God. If you would answer me, as I have called to You, Please heal me now, don’t hide Your face from me” 

We want to be reassured. We want to know G-d. To see G-d. Even when G-d is hidden from view. We want to know that G-d will go with us and give us rest. 

But something else happens in this portion. Moses has smashed the commandments. The people gather them together and place them in the ark, side by side with the full, complete set. Midrash? Yes. But an important one. 

It’s a about dreams made and dreams broken. It’s about reassurance and resilience. It’s about being able to pick up and begin again. And that may be the moment many of us are in today.  

Roger Kamenetz teaches, “The broken tablets were also carried in an ark. In so far as they represented everything shattered, everything lost, they were the law of broken things, the leaf torn from the stem in a storm, a cheek touched in fondness once but now the name forgotten. How they must have rumbled, clattered on the way even carried so carefully through the waste land, how they must have rattled around until the pieces broke into pieces, the edges softened crumbling, dust collected at the bottom of the ark ghosts of old letters, old laws. In so far as a law broken is still remembered these laws were obeyed. And in so far as memory preserves the pattern of broken things these bits of stone were preserved through many journeys and ruined days even, they say, into the promised land.” 

Estelle Frankel in her book Sacred Therapy asks these questions, “So what does it mean that the Torah was given not once, but twice? What was different about these two revelations? And what are the spiritual lessons we can learn from the fact that the Israelites gathered up the fragments and carried the broken tablets with them on their journey? 

First, she teaches, “In fact, failure is often a gateway through which we must pass in order to receive our greatest gifts.” At MIT’s Office of Intellectual Property, they tell their young scholars, soon to be business professionals that they expect young entrepreneurs to fail. Many business people have done just that. Tried out an idea and then made a mistake and failed. They need that trial and error before they can get it right. American pop culture epitomizes this in the song, 

 “Pick yourself up. Dust yourself off. Start all over again.” We tell kids learning to ride a horse or a bike, that if they fall, they need to get back on and ride. It isn’t easy. But this morning’s parsha teaches us it is possible. And that gives us hope. 

Frankel says it better: “It was only after Israel’s greatest single act of folly—namely, worshiping the golden calf—that they were able to truly receive and hold on to the gift of Torah, or spiritual illumination. Sometimes we only learn to appreciate life’s gifts after we have lost them. If, however, we are lucky enough to be given a second chance, with the wisdom we have acquired through our experience of failure, we learn how to cherish and hold on to what we are given.” 

“The two revelations at Sinai can also be seen as symbolizing the inevitable stages we go through in our spiritual development. The first tablets, like the initial visions we have for our lives, frequently shatter, especially when they are based on naïvely idealistic assumptions. Our first marriages or first careers may fail to live up to their initial promise. We may join communities or follow spiritual teachers and paths that disappoint or even betray us. Our very conceptions of God and our assumptions about the meaning of faith may shatter as we bump up against the morally complex and often contradictory aspects of the real world. Yet, if we learn from our mistakes and find ways to pick up the broken pieces of shattered dreams, we can go on to re-create our lives out of the rubble of our initial failures. And ultimately, we become wiser and more complex as our youthful ideals are replaced by more realistic and sustainable ones.” 

G-d may seem hidden. Like in the Purim story. Like in the cleft of the rock. Like in the story of the challah in the ark. Like with the wind. We can see the evidence of the wind but we can’t see the wind itself. But together, we can get to the Promised Land, the land of our dreams, Hold on to your dreams. G-d will give you rest. 

This parsha is about gifts and building. 

“Tell the Israelite people to bring Me gifts; you shall accept gifts for Me from every person whose heart is so moved.” 

The Torah Study group was puzzled. How could this be a commandment, something you must do and still be something that is a gift from your heart? What relevance is it today? Why does G-d need gifts.  

Let’s start with a basic question. What is a gift? something that comes from the heart. a thing given willingly to someone without payment; a present. a natural ability or talent. 

We know the phrase, “It is better to give than to receive.” The Shaker hymn teaches: 

“Tis a gift to be simple, ‘tis a gift to be free; 
‘Tis a gift to come down where we all ought to be; 
And when we find ourselves in the place just right, 
And will be in the valley of Love and Delight.” 

In December’s Town and Country magazine, a gift that showed up unexpectedly on our doorstep, it tells us that giving actually changes the brain chemistry for the good and we experience joy. If, and only if, we find the right gift for the right person. 

Our text goes on to give us a very specific list of what our G-d apparently wants:
“And these are the gifts that you shall accept from them: gold, silver, and copper;
blue, purple, and crimson yarns, fine linen, goats’ hair;
tanned ram skins, dolphin skins, and acacia wood;
oil for lighting, spices for the anointing oil and for the aromatic incense;
lapis lazuli and other stones for setting, for the ephod and for the breastpiece.” 

These are the things that the Israelites need to build a mishkan, a place for G-d to dwell.  

וְעָ֥שׂוּ לִ֖י מִקְדָּ֑שׁ וְשָׁכַנְתִּ֖י בְּתוֹכָֽם׃
And let them make Me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2W_XxCh2b30 

Note the text very carefully here. G-d will dwell among them not among it. G-d will be with us.  In the spaces between us. Perhaps this is why G-d needs gifts. It is the I-Thou relationship that Martin Buber talks about. Relationship is a gift.  

Rabbi Matt Berkowitz talks about it this way: 

“Immediately, from the title of this parashah, an exegetical direction is hinted at. At the heart of the word t’rumah, translated as “offering,” one discovers the Hebrew root meaning “lifting up” or “high.” God speaks to Moses saying, “Tell the Israelite people to bring Me gifts (t’rumah); you will accepts gifts (t’rumati) for Me from every person whose heart so moves him” (Exodus 25:2). To make a gift, or in more sacred language, to give tzedakah, literally involves an act of lifting one’s eyes and heart higher. One must become selfless, transcending one’s self and envisioning a reality of tikkun olam. That is precisely what God demands of the Israelites in this parashah—they must set their sights higher, and doing so will not only elevate their own souls but more important, will bring God’s Presence into their midst.”  

He then went on to teach an important midrash 

“A beautiful midrash sparked by this week’s Torah reading sums up the essence of thinking toward the future. Exodus 26:15 states, “and you will make the boards for the Tabernacle.” Midrash Tanhuma queries, “Where did the boards come from? Jacob, our father, planted them. When he came down to Egypt, he said to his sons: MY sons! You are destined to be redeemed from here, and when you are redeemed, the Holy One will tell you that you are to make a Tabernacle for God. Rise up and plant cedars now, so that when God tells you to make a Tabernacle, these cedars will be ready. So Jacob’s sons set to planting cedars, doing just what he had told them. Hence, Torah speaks of ‘the boards,’ the boards their father had arranged should be ready” (Tanhuma T’rumah 9).” 

It’s like the story of Honi that we often tell at Tu B’shevat. Honi is surprised to see an old man planting a carob tree. Surely, he will not be able to eat of its fruit. The old man answered, just as my ancestors planted for me, so do I plant for my children and grandchildren.”  

That’s what your gifts are doing, planting for the generations yet to come. 

There is a cost to building a mishkan, to building a sanctuary, a kehila kedosha, a holy community. Soon we will have Shabbat Shekelim that talks about the half shekel tax, the price of membership. Think of it as the baseline dues. Then there are the gifts of the heart, over and above what you are required to give. 

This could be the monetary physical things as the text describes, good, silver, copper and more.  

Or gifts that you have. We have a number of people here who go over and above sharing their talents, their gifts with us. 

Some examples: Jerry and Robin and the garden. Judi and Barb for organizing the soup kettle. Anita for decorating tables so beautifully for things like the Passover seders. Another Anita for graciously making kugel recently. Ken for the gift of shofar blowing. Stew for the gift of music. Nikki for the gift of baking. Lizzie for her ability to “yad”. Gene for his Mr. Fix-It abilities. Those are just a few of them. Each of you has a gift you can share.  

Does G-d need our gifts? Maybe. G-d needs us to be in relationship, with G-d and with each other. The Seer of Lublin, one of the great Hasidic Masters, tells the story of when he was a boy, He used to go to the forest and when his father asked him why, he explained, “I go there to find G-d.” When his father reminded him that G-d is everywhere, the boy answered, “G-d is by I am not.” Yes, G-d is everywhere, as another Hasidic master, rabbi Menachem Mendel of Kotzk reminds us. He asked some learned men who were visiting him, “Where is the dwelling place of God?” Laughing, they responded, “What a thing to ask! Is not the whole earth full of God’s glory?” [Isaiah 6:3] Menachem Mendel then answered his own question: “God dwells wherever we let God in.” (Martin Buber, Tales of the Hasidim: Later Masters, New York: Schocken Books, 1948, p. 277) 

The gifts we bring are designed to build something. Something special. Something holy. A sacred place. Yes, for G-d. But for all of us. A place set aside where we can experience the Divine.  

More than the physical gifts, it takes coming together. There is community and connection in pulling together. In working toward a common purpose. It is holy. But it takes all of us pulling together. It takes the physical gifts and the spiritual gifts. 

Each of us holds our own special treasure, our gift, our set-apart, to help establish a dwelling place for God and for each other. Come build with me. 

Happy Valentine’s Day. St. Valentine’s Day. This is not necessarily a Jewish holiday. But perhaps as Ecclesiastes says “There is nothing new under the sun.” 

Its roots are very ancient and there are overlays to what we do as Jews. It goes back further than the Catholic Church who recognizes three saints named Valentine. One was a priest in the third century CE who when Emperor Claudius II decided that single men made better soldiers than those with families, he outlawed marriage. We, too have rules of how to make war in the book of Deuteronomy. Valentine continued to perform marriages in secret. 

“Then the officials shall address the troops, as follows: “Is there anyone who has built a new house but has not dedicated it? Let him go back to his home, lest he die in battle and another dedicate it. Is there anyone who has planted a vineyard but has never harvested it? Let him go back to his home, lest he die in battle and another harvest it. Is there anyone who has paid the bride-price for a wife, but who has not yet taken her [into his household]? Let him go back to his home, lest he die in n battle and another take her to wife.” 

Yes, I am grateful to St. Valentine who defied the church. Yes, I am grateful for those who stood up for marriage equality in more recent times and agreed with Lin-Manuel Miranda, Love is Love is Love. Or the mug I drank my coffee out of this morning, “Choose Love.” So, celebrate Valentine’s Day I do.  

 In medieval France and England, this time was the beginning of the birds’ mating season. Did you hear the birds this morning? Did you feed the birds this morning? It reminds me of Shabbat Beshallach, often near Tu B’shevat, which we celebrated recently.  

Last night I gave my monthly D’var Torah, a word of Torah, to our board meeting. It is a way of setting the tone for the meeting and the month to come. Here is what I said” 

This week is “Love a mensch week.” Thanks to our board president for spotting it. It turns out it is sponsored by J-Date and a woman who wrote a book about how to marry a mensch. just ahead of Valentine’s Day. Not a very Jewish holiday, nonetheless it is fun to celebrate and to quote an old song, “What the world needs now is love, sweet love.”  

Earlier this week I asked our Torah school kids what a mensch is and what a hero is. They weren’t quite clear. They had a hard time naming any heroes. The Hulk. Superman. Spiderman. Wonder Woman. Finally, they got to veterinarians, first responders, teachers, even parents.  

We are focusing on heroes and menschen ahead of Purim which celebrates the heroism of Esther and Mordechai. We are using a book, Heroes with Chutzpah, about 101 True Tales of Jewish trailblazers, changemakers and rebels. (More on that later.) We started with Gal Gadot, who played Wonder Woman and is currently serving in the IDF in the reserves. That alone would make her a hero! 

A mensch is a good person. Someone who goes over and above the expected to make the world a better place. How does that tie into Judaism and Valentine’s Day. I think it does. There are two words for love in Hebrew. Ahavah and Chesed.  

Chesed is the harder word to translate. It means something like lovingkindness. One member recently told me while the world needs love it needs even more kindness. He’s not wrong. Menschen are those who are incredibly, graciously kind. In our tradition we say that the world stands on three things, On Torah, on Service and on acts of lovingkindness, gemilut chasadim.  

We even define those acts of lovingkindness in a quote from the Talmud. These are the obligations without measure whose reward to 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 rejice with the bride and groom, to console the bereaved, to pray with sincerity, to make peace where there is strife. And the study of Torah is equal to them all because it leads to them all.  (Page 52 of Gates of Prayer)

We at CKI have had the opportunity to do many of these things, including a recent wedding and way too many moments of consoling the bereaved. Each of those are moments when we live out being kind.  

I think they also lead to Ahavah, the other word for love.  

The first use of Ahavah in the Torah is when Rebecca spots Isaac, falls off her camel and Isaac takes her to his mother, Sarah’s tent and he loves her. And he is comforted on his mother’s death. It is a la dor vador moment, from generation to generation, And it reads like the first Hollywood script.  

There are three times we are commanded to love something in the Torah:
V’ahavta et Adonai Elohecha, You shall love the Lord your G-d. With all your heart, with all your soul, with all you being (with all your everything as I often say. 

V’ahavtem et hagar, You (plural) must love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt. 

V’ahavta  l’rayecha kamocha, Love your neighbor as yourself. That is the translation we are most familiar with. Every translation is a commentary. Perhaps it really means fellow or kin. But I am not sure it changes the impact of these three sentences. 

Love G-d, Love the stranger. Love your fellow. Hillel sums it up similarly, “If I am not for myself who will be for me. If I am only for myself, what am I and if not now, when.” 

It is our job as a board, as a kehila kodosha, a holy community to love each other. To listen to each other and to respond to each other with kindness, respect and yes, love. That’s how I’ll be celebrating Valentine’s Day.