One of the most common refrains in the Torah after a punishment is enacted is ובערת הרע מקרבך that you shall “sweep out evil from your midst.”[1] It’s not uncommon to find sinners who receive the ultimate punishment: death. At the same time, there is a discrepancy between this week’s portion and last week’s in terms of how Moses and Aaron respond to the evil. The punishment for the Israelites’ being influenced by the 10 spies who gave bad reports after scouting out the land for 40 days was to wander in the desert for 40 years, each year corresponding to a day that the spies had scouted. Every single Israelite from “the old generation” will die, making way for a new generation who will conquer the land. G-d was planning to destroy the people in that instant. Moses did not deny G-d’s ruling that the entire nation is unjust, only challenging their destruction in that moment. He states that if G-d destroys them now, His reputation will suffer, for the other nations will murmur, “G-d brought out this people from Egypt only to kill them in the desert.”[2]

One parsha later and once again Moses and Aaron’s authority is challenged. Once again, G-d threatens to destroy everyone, and Moses and Aaron intervene. The difference, however, is Moses and Aaron’s response: “if one man sins shall You be angry with the entire congregation?”[3] Why did Moses and Aaron blame the entire people for rebelling in the incident of the spies, whereas here they seem to put all of the blame on Korach?

Rabbenu Hananel from 11^th century North Africa deals with this quandary. He states, “if the Israelites had in no way sinned or rebelled against their master, why the anger against them and the threat to consume them in an instant? If they too had rebelled like Korah and his band how could Moses and Aaron say ‘Shall you punish the entire congregation for one man’s sin?”[4] The answer he gives is that G-d had only intended to punish “the congregation of Korah” and not the entire community of Israel. However, Rabbi Yitzhak Arama writes that not all of Israel had sinned with the Golden Calf yet there G-d also states that he would consume the entire nation. He concludes, “The individual is part of the whole; just as the whole man is sick even when only one part of his body is affected.”[5] This is related to the statement כל ישראל ערבים זה בזה, all of Israel is responsible for one another.[6] We are not an assortment of individuals but rather one community, so if someone acts wrongly, it is our responsibility to correct it in that moment, הוכח תוכיח את עמיתך.[7]

How do we feel about this notion of collective punishment? We certainly have precedent for it in the Torah. After all the continuation of the 13 attributes of G-d reads פוקד עון אבות על בנים ועל בני בנים על שלשים ועל רבעים, “G-d revisits the sins of the fathers on their children and on the children’s children to the third and fourth generation.”[8]  At the same time, we have the statement from Deuteronomy, “Parents shall not be put to death for the sins of children nor children for the sins of their parents: a person shall only be judged for his/her own crime.”[9] How do we reconcile the two? Some argue that collective punishment is necessary in order to truly wipe out evil, that by punishing not only the perpetrator but his/her entire household, we set an example that evil actions will not be tolerated, and we deter others from acting accordingly. Others assert that it is unjust to punish someone for a crime they did not commit and that we can only target the perpetrators.

How is evil best uprooted-through targeting everyone who is influenced by the evil or just those actively perpetuating it? Some would argue the former because just targeting terrorists and not their loved ones leaves alive those who have been motivated by their train of thought and who might very well commit an attack in the future. Others assert that we cannot collectively punish an entire group based off the actions of an individual terrorist. It is not for us to decide this question today but rather to recognize that in this case Moses did not propose attacking all of Israel, just taking out the ringleaders. At the same time, the way he and his closest followers were “taken out,” being swallowed up by the earth, set an example that stopped others from challenging Moses’ and Aaron’s leadership. May we recognize the best approach to sweep out evil in our day and age and utilize this to build a community which serves the high ideals emphasized by our tradition.

[1] See Deuteronomy 13:6 and 17:7; Also Deuteronomy 17:12 for a reference to ובערת הרע מישראל.

[2] Based off Numbers 14:16

[3] Numbers 16:22

[4] Rabbenu Hananel on Numbers 16:22

[5] Akedat Yitzhak on Numbers 16:22

[6] Babylonian Talmud Shavuot 39a

[7] Leviticus 19:17

[8] Exodus 34:9. A contemporary understanding of this is that the children learn from the parents’ example, so they internalize their parents’ sins and perpetuate them onto the next generation.

[9] Deuteronomy 24:16

What’s the source of our synagogue’s greatest strength? I would argue that it is having two daily minyanim. The minyanim enable people to fulfill their daily prayer obligations as well as for mourners to say the Kaddish, elevating their loved one’s soul ever higher. We know that the name of G-d is elevated when ten Jews gather for worship, and this is why G-d’s name is added to the Birkat HaMazon (prayer for after meals) every time there are ten Jews who eat together. However, why is a minyan required and why specifically ten individuals?

Ironically, one of the sources for the Minyan requiring ten comes from this week’s reading. The Jerusalem Talmud uses the technique of a Gezerah Shavah, or the same word appearing in two biblical verses, to derive this. It first references Parshat Kedoshim, which states דבר אל כל עדת בני ישראל ואמרת עליהם קדושים תהיו, “Speak to the entire congregation of Israel and say to them ‘You shall be holy.’”[1] The entire Israelite community is supposed to imitate G-d in being holy. However, our portion is then cited to indicate this was not the case, as 10 of the spies returned with negative reports and tried to get the Israelite community to return to Egypt. Because of this, G-d told Moses עד מתי לעדה הרעה הזאת אשר המה מלינים אותי, “How much longer will this evil congregation mutter against me?”[2]  As these 10 individuals representing 10 of the tribes of Israel did not have faith in G-d, they represent an “evil congregation.” In contrast, we are commanded to be “holy” through gathering 10 individuals to sing G-d’s praises at each and every service.[3]

Why pray to G-d three times a day with 10 people? If we have 9 or 8 is G-d no longer there? I don’t think that’s what the Talmud is saying but it is indicating that something is lost if a minyan is not present. Through being part of a minyan we are more than just a collection of individuals-we are individuals coming together as a community to invoke our belief in G-d and our faith in G-d’s sovereignty. In a minyan, the שליח צבור, or prayer leader, concludes each blessing, and the others respond אמן. אמן does not just mean “I agree” but rather comes from the word אמונה, meaning “faith.” Through participating in a minyan, we are demonstrating that we publicly affirm our Creator and thus counteract the negative message of the spies. The ten spies were wrong not necessarily in their report but because they didn’t have faith that G-d would help them conquer the Promised Land. As Caleb and Joshua replied, “If G-d is pleased with us, He will bring us into that land, a land that flows with milk and honey, and give it to us; only you must not rebel against G-d.”[4]

The Ishbitzer Rebbe in his book מי השילוח uses the example of the spies to indicate the power of prayer.[5] He references the Zohar, stating that there are three worlds to G-d: a world in which He is hidden and about which is not known, a world in which He always makes himself known and a world in which He makes himself both known and unknown. One who does not find any benefit in prayer corresponds to the world in which G-d is not known, because G-d removes His glory from such an individual. The world in which He is always known corresponds to the person who always helps and aides others and doesn’t need to rely on prayer to G-d. The world in which G-d makes Himself both known and unknown corresponds to the person who needs prayer in order to reach G-d. For the Ishbitzer, the 10 evil spies correspond to those who don’t find any benefit in prayer. What their eyes see is all that matters, and they do not rely at all on G-d. Caleb corresponds to the one to whom G-d both reveals Himself and does not. When Caleb first addresses the ten spies, he says “Let us by all means go up and we shall take possession of it, for we shall surely overcome it.”[6] He does not mention G-d, just his belief in the people. The 10 spies counter him stating “we cannot attack that people, for it is stronger than we.”[7] It’s Caleb’s word against theirs, and they win over the masses. It is not until Joshua, one to whom G-d always reveals himself, intervenes that the people are able to be shushed. Joshua has Divine inspiration and he knows what to do to quiet the people. He leads Caleb in the rending of their clothes and rebuking the others for their lack of faith in G-d, for how quickly they spurned G-d for a different path.

I imagine that most of us are like Caleb. We wouldn’t be here today if we saw no benefit to prayer-instead we’d be at the beach or doing a BBQ. At the same time, we don’t necessarily find G-d in every aspect of our lives without prayer. It would be great to always be imbued with Divine inspiration but at times we are left bereft and needing to search for it. That is why Caleb is the prime example for us of someone to whom G-d revealed Himself to at times yet was hidden from at others, and he needed prayer in order to connect with G-d. That is the primary purpose of minyan: to come together to pray to G-d, to sing G-d’s praises, to thank G-d, to ask G-d questions, even to cry out to G-d in anger sometimes. That is why it is so significant that regardless the size of our congregation, we have maintained a twice daily minyan 365 days of the year. In so doing we are showing our faith in Hashem and in the power of prayer. Let us continue to find G-d in our prayer and increase the frequency that we come together to affirm our faith in G-d through our participation in minyan.

[1] Leviticus 19:2

[2] Numbers 14:27

[3] Based off Yerushalmi Megillah 4:4

[4] Numbers 14:8-9

[5] Mei HaShiloach, comment on שלח לך אנשים

[6] Numbers 13:30

[7] Numbers 13:31

In 1967, The Doors wrote their hit song “Come on Baby Light My Fire” I’m not sure Jim Morrison was thinking about the lighting of the Temple Menorah, yet that is how our Torah reading begins today. Aaron, as High Priest, is instructed in the illumination of the Menorah and to keep it lit throughout the night.[1]

This sounds great when we are talking about how in the winter cold and shortness of days, the light of the Menorah becomes a beacon for warmth and joy. Yet the Menorah was lit every day throughout the year. How can we relate to the light of the Menorah now, at the warmest time of the year with the longest days? True it is only required to be lit at night but are we only lighting it perfunctorily? Not so, says the Talmud, which asserts that by us lighting the Menorah we demonstrate that G-d’s presence is with us.[2]

How do we demonstrate G-d’s presence through kindling a flame? The lighting of the Menorah took place at parochet haedut, literally the “curtain of testimony.”[3] What is being testified to here? Rav in the Talmud stated that the western-most candle gave of its oil to light the other candles.[4] Each candle had been given the same amount of oil, yet the westernmost conserved its oil and had some left over to use to ignite the other candles the following days. It gave from its own light source to enable the others to shine.

Is this just a miraculous recounting in the Talmud, like the miracle of the Hanukkah oil lasting for eight days? Perhaps. However, there is a key lesson to be learned here: each of us can be the candle that paves the way for the others to be lit. We each have the opportunity to give of our light, of our own essence, to beautify those around us. To be the westernmost light is not always fun, for it requires not always shining forth but at times holding back to ensure that others will be able to shine. At the same time, by giving of your essence to strengthen another, you cause a greater total brightness.

This is what marriage is all about. It is taking of our own light and utilizing it to strengthen our partner. Before marriage we are the center of our lives and can use our light to blaze our own path forward. After marriage we need to conserve some of our light, our desire, our passion to make a place for that of our partner. At the same time, a greater light will now shine forth, for it is now a shared light coming from two flames. Our job is to ensure that the light will emanate forth as brightly as possible and that it will be one large, unified light, rather than completing flames.

Michael and Julie-as you approach your marriage I know you will always share your brightness, your vitality and your essence with each other, and together your light will rise ever higher and higher. As a couple, you have the opportunity to work together on a shared vision, illuminating your values and what you want to achieve together, and my prayer is that your light grows stronger and brighter each and every day. Mazal Tov on your upcoming marriage!

[1] Numbers 8:2 and Leviticus 24:3

[2] Babylonian Talmud Shabbat 22b

[3] Leviticus 24:3

[4] Ibid.

Whenever we get to Yizkor I try to focus on the positive memories that we have of our loved ones who have no longer physically present with us. Sometimes that is very difficult to do. As much as I’d like it not to be the case, not everyone has warm, loving memories of their parents, siblings, children or spouse. Some rabbis have given sermons on how does one say Yizkor for an abusive parent or for a sibling with whom one has not spoken in years.

I’ve been thinking about what it means to say Yizkor for a relative with whom one did not have the most positive of relationships. Most of us have family challenges in one form or another. Some are estranged from their parents or not on speaking terms with siblings. Others have difficulties with their children. My sermon is not intended to heal those wounds, nor is it meant to glaze over them. Rather it is meant to try to find a silver lining, remembering any positive encounters we have had with the person. As Yizkor means remember, we have some degree of control and selectivity over which memories we choose to cherish and which we decide to disregard. If we cannot find a positive memory, let us at least, for our own benefit, let go of the negative feelings we hold.

In Siddur Lev Shalem, the new Conservative prayerbook in the back, there is a Yizkor Meditation in Memory of a Parent who was Hurtful on Page 335 written by Robert Saks. The last two sentences read as follows: Help me, O God, to subdue my bitter emotions that do me no good, and to find that place in myself where happier memories may lie hidden, and where grief for all that could have been, all that should have been, may be calmed by forgiveness, or at least soothed by the passage of time. I pray that You, who raise up slaves to freedom, will liberate me from the oppression of my hurt and anger, and that You will lead me from this desert to Your holy place.

Today we read the Book of Ruth, a story which begins with a dysfunctional family. Ruth was a Moabite, a people who came from an incestual union between Lot and his daughters. In fact, the name Moav comes from the Hebrew “may’av,” from my father. Ruth’s future husband, Boaz, is a descendant of Perez, one of the children of the incestual relationship between Judah and Tamar. Both Ruth and Boaz are ultimately products of incest yet who do they produce? None other but the great King David himself, the greatest king ever of Israel, the man who conquered Jerusalem, the man who will be the progenitor of the Messiah!

Through family dysfunction will emerge a thing of true beauty. The Messiah will be a product of incest on both sides of his family, yet that will not stop him/her from bringing an age of peace to the world. We do not have control over the family we are born into or grow up in or how others in the family respond to us: what we do have control over is how we react and handle difficult family situations. As Mahatna Ghandi said, “We need to be the change we want to see in the world.”

King David’s story also demonstrates the power of the individual to effect change. When the Prophet Samuel visited David’s father Jesse to see which of his sons would become the next King of Israel, Jesse brought out seven sons, none of whom were deemed worthy of being king. Finally Samuel asked Jesse, “Is this all of your children?” and he replied, “There is still my youngest, tending to the sheep.”[1] Upon seeing David, G-d told Samuel, “Arise and anoint him, for this is he.”[2] The young, neglected shepherd boy can thus become the mighty ruler of Israel. All he needs is to be given the opportunity.

It is far too easy to blame life circumstances on our upbringing, our genetics or happenstance. The more important albeit difficult thing is to do the best with what we have to be the people we are meant to be. Ruth did so by choosing to stay with her mother-in-law Naomi and take the journey back to Israel, though it would have been far easier for her to remain in Moav with her family of origin. David would have had an easier life staying back and tending the sheep or not stepping forth to fight Goliath, yet his coming forward changed Jewish history forever. Similarly, it is our task to do our part to effect positive changes within our family and our community.

Yizkor is about remembering, but memory by itself is not enough. Our memories need to lead us to take steps forward to overcome challenges in our path. It does not mean to solve every problem or to “fix” things but at least to attempt to make positive changes in our lives and in those we care about. Sometimes all that is required is taking the first step forward with family members and we unexpectedly get met halfway. At other times we try and end up in the same place we began, but at least we made the effort. If Ruth and King David didn’t attempt to make changes, our people would not be in the place they are today.

As we say Yizkor, let us reflect on all memories shared with those who have left our midst, but let us focus on those which are most positive and productive, using them as the impetus to propel us forward. May we take the steps necessary to build or repair bridges with those with whom we have had difficulties, doing our part to create harmony and cohesion, while recognizing that we cannot solve all family problems. Following in the example of Ruth, who knows what will happen-perhaps we will see the blessing of the Messiah in our lifetimes.

We continue with Yizkor on Page 509.

[1] 1 Samuel 16:11

[2] 1 Samuel 16:13

What are the most important words in the Torah? Some would say the Shema, which became known in certain circles as “the watchword of our faith.” Others might assert the Golden Rule, which proclaims “love your neighbor as yourself.” I think that it is neither of these but rather the 10 commandments.[1] For one we stand for its recitation (just as we do for the Song of the Sea). Also there is a special trope arrangement, known as Ta’am Elyon,[2] that is used in its recitation. I look forward to each reading of these magisterial commandments.

A challenge to my assertion of their importance is that we only read the 10 commandments three times a year. If they are so important, wouldn’t we read them every day of the week? The 10 commandments are listed in several Orthodox Siddurim, including Artscroll, as readings following the Shacharit service, yet why aren’t they part and parcel of our service?

Rabbi David Golinkin of the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies, taught a class on this topic at the Rabbinical Assembly Convention. He referenced Mishnah Tamid, which states the texts which were recited on a daily basis.[3] The first one listed is the Ten Commandments, recited each morning prior to the Shema. Why is this no longer done today? For this we turn to the Jerusalem Talmud,[4] where Rabbis Matana and Shmuel bar Nahman state that reciting the Ten Commandments every day would lead to the heretics claiming that only these commandments were recited at Mount Sinai, as opposed to all 613.

The heretics being referenced here are Jews who turned against our tradition, using their knowledge to refute aspects of Judaism. An example given by the Midrash is that of Korach. When it states that Korach and his people “gathered against Moses and Aaron” one of the reasons they gather is to challenge the laws that Moses and Aaron were giving. After all, they said, ‘we were children at Sinai and we only were given the 10 commandments; we were given nothing about Terumah, Maaser and Tzitzit. Those do not come from G-d but rather from you.’[5] This powerful Midrash demonstrates that even one generation later the divine origin of the 613 commandments was being challenged by our own people.

Why are we so concerned about what the heretics think? Wouldn’t it make more sense to do what is our tradition rather than excise the Ten Commandments from our liturgy? A responsum about this was shared with the Rashba[6] asking whether it was permissible for those who wished to recite The Ten Commandments as part of their Shachait service. The answer from Rashba begins “It is forbidden to do this; even though it is listed in Tractate Tamid…it’s already been nullified because of the grievances of the heretics (תרעומת המינים.(” According to Rashba, once a tradition is nullified, it cannot be reinstated, so we can no longer recite the Ten Commandments in Shacharit.

Not all agree with the Rashba, however. The Maharshal[7] said it is a מצוה גדולה, a great commandments, to recite them, following the opinion of the Tur that it is good to say them,[8] and he added them in next to Baruch Sheamar.

What do we do today regarding the Ten Commandments? Do we recite them or don’t we? It makes sense for us to follow the tradition not to say them as a formal, fixed part of the liturgy, especially since they are not found as such in our synagogue’s prayerbooks. However, to say them after the service, or as an additional prayer every once in awhile, makes sense. There is something powerful to these statements which is enhanced by our not reciting them every day but only on special occasions, such as the Torah portions in which they fall and Shavuot, when we publicly gather to receive the Torah.

While it can be easy to lose sight of the import of the other 603 commandments if we solely focus on these 10, it would not be if we follow a teaching I learned from Rabbi Robert Eisen of Tucson. He asserts that the 613 commandments are all reflected in the 10 because 6 + 1 + 3 = 10. Similarly, the 10 commandments are all reflected in the guiding principle that there is 1 G-d, for 1 + 0 = 1. What I take from this is that our focus should not be on the number of commandments as much as it should be on what the commandments represent: the importance of following the Divine Way. If we do not lose sight of this, we do not need to recite the Ten Commandments (or any commandment) on a daily basis. What we need to do instead is to keep in the forefront of our mind what G-d wants from us and how we are going to fulfill the Divine will each and every day. In so doing, we will truly demonstrate that we accept the Torah on this זמן מתן תורתנו, the day on which the Torah was given to us.

[1] While I am referring to them as such, a better translation of the term עשרת הדברות is “ten statements” rather than the Ten Commandments.

[2] Literally “the elevated trope”

[3] Chapter 5 Mishnah 1. Tamid means “always” and focuses on the daily worship service.

[4] Jerusalem Talmud Berachot 1:5; Babylonian Talmud Berachot 9 a-b

[5] Yalkut Shimoni Korach, paragraph 752

[6] Rabbi Shlomo ben Aderet of 14^th century Spain

[7] Rabbi Shlomo Luria of 16^th century Poland

[8] Rabbi Jacob ben Asher of 13-14 century Ashkenaz. The Shulchan Aruch is based off his work and also says, in Orach Hayim 1:5, that it is good to say the Ten Commandments.

We have come a long way as a congregation over the course of our 60 years. From modest beginnings in someone’s home, to the groundbreaking on this building in 1960, to the expansion of our building in 1973 to the renovations of the sanctuary and the downstairs, we have certainly taken great pride in our house of worship. Most congregations of 60 years have gone through great changes yet we have remained relatively stable, with 3 rabbis and 2 cantors over that time. Our Religious School has received the designation Framework of Excellence from the United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism, and our Nursery School is entering an exciting new venture as a STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering and Math) school. It is very fitting that we celebrate this momentous anniversary.

In our tradition, 60 is the halfway point between birth and death. It’s a time for evaluation of where we’ve come and where we want to be headed during our next 60 years. What do we want the Jericho Jewish Center to look like for our children and grandchildren? How will we shape our synagogue to continue to be a center of spiritual relevance, a place where people come to celebrate birthdays and anniversaries, bar/bat mitzvot and weddings, transitions into retirement and adult b’nai mitzvot?

It’s no accident that we chose to celebrate our anniversary tomorrow, on Yom Yerushalayim. The ability to return to our holy sites is something those two generations back could not have fathomed. As the psalmist said, this return to our historic homeland and our holiest city felt as if we were dreaming.[1] I think of the paratroopers, many of whom were secular, weeping beside the Kotel, feeling something spiritual inside them welling up as they returned to the place where their ancestors lived 2000 years prior. How wonderful that we will be able to celebrate our own accomplishments and achievements as a congregation on this same date.

It is so special to have those who grew up at the Jericho Jewish Center and who have become successes in their own rite, Billy Stein and Melissa Hartman, returning to their roots to sing alongside Cantors Barry Black and Israel Goldstein. There’s something truly special about this merger of our past with our present, combining joyous memories from times long ago with our vibrancy as a congregation today.

In this week’s Torah reading, we conclude the Holiness Code, the model for how we are supposed to conduct ourselves as Jews. As the opening line of the portion states, through following G-d’s laws and observing His commandments, we will have everything that we need, not requiring anything else. We need halacha, the corpus of Jewish law, in order to guide our decisions. Halacha is also connected to halicha, the path in which we walk in life. Those who came before us set us on a good path, one which valued tradition and precedent yet also gave us the opportunity to try new things and continue to blaze our trail forward.

My vision for JJC is that we will continue to value both tradition and change, being a community of communities; that our services will both speak to our regulars but that we will also have offerings for those who are joining our ranks, such as alternative Friday night and Shabbat morning family services. In an age with numerous extracurriculars and diversions, it is challenging to get people to join a congregation, all the more so to participate in its events. I take great pride in hearing when congregants rearrange their schedules to come to our Friday Night Live services or when they commit to attending 7 evening sessions in our Sulam for Emerging Leaders program and follow through on it. This tells me that people feel that JJC is a second home to them, that they are proud to be members here and want to engage with us on a regular basis. This can only be done through tapping into who people are and what they value and providing those services at JJC. It takes a lot of hard work, and we are starting to see the payoff. My favorite activities that we do are those which are led by the initiative, foresight and hard work of our members, such as Sherwin and Hanit bringing the Israeli musician Idan Raichel to JJC, Steve Wishner teaching us how to brew beer with Hops and Halacha or Jill Guttman teaching us how to make mandel bread. Through getting at the core of what motivates people, we succeed in capitalizing on it and making them active members of JJC who care about our congregation and strive to make it successful. Too often we think solely of numbers, not recognizing that the quality and ingenuity of our membership supersedes the quantity.

I would imagine that if our founding members were here looking at the Jericho Jewish Center, they would recognize aspects of our congregation but not others. However, they would take immense pride in seeing from where we’ve come and that we are doing our best to provide a strong house of worship for generations yet to come. I’d like to think that they would understand that though certain things look different than they’re accustomed to, we need to continue to adapt to modern realities-in Mordechai Waxman’s words, we need to engage in both tradition and change.

Similarly, we have no idea what the Jericho Jewish Center will look like 60 years from now. I’m sure some aspects of it would surprise us but we’d understand that those who follow us are doing their best to meet the Jewish needs of their generation, creating a strong, compelling house of worship in an age where all are Jews by choice.

Thank you for being members of the Jericho Jewish Center, whether for 1 year, for 60 or somewhere in between, for believing in our congregation and for continuing to support it over the years. I’m sure you have seen a great deal of changes but one thing that has not changed is your devotion and dedication to your congregational family. Tomorrow we will present each member with a certificate honoring you for your commitment to our House of Worship. For today I will simply say, Thank You for your support and for all that you do to strengthen our congregation.

[1] Based off Psalm 137

We all know the importance of personally resting, to “recharge our batteries” and come back even stronger. However, our tradition maintains that it is of equal importance to rest our land, so much so that if Israel does not obey the Sabbatical year, its lands and cities will be destroyed. We have the ironic statement אז תרצה הארץ את שבתותיה “Then the land will have its sabbatical rest.”[1] In other words, if you don’t rest the land, you will be exiled from it, and I will force it to rest after the fact.

Rashi demonstrates that this is actually a kindness done to Israel, that Israel’s enemies will not be able to find satisfaction or bear fruit from the desolate land that they conquer.[2] I’m not sure how much of a kindness it is to be exiled from one’s land, even knowing that no one else will benefit from your hard work. Rashi also comments that Israel is exiled for 70 years corresponding to the 70 cycles of sabbatical and jubilee years that had been neglected.[3] This is a classic example of מידה כנגד מידה, measure for measure, that Israel is being punished exactly in the manner in which it sinned.

Why the emphasis on resting the land? Some have argued for the importance of crop rotation in not wearing out the soil, yet that is not the central reason for the land’s rest. It is also not to relinquish ownership through selling the land to a non-Jew. Rather, it is to remember that the land comes from a Higher Power and is not exclusively yours. This becomes even clearer through examining a verse in our portion, Behar. G-d implores Moses to tell Israel that “even crops that grew on their own from the seeds of the previous harvest you shall not reap, and the grapes of your untended vines you shall not gather.”[4] What happens to these crops? Are they left to rot in the fields? Not so, says Rashi, who comments on this verse “they shall be ownerless-free to all.”[5]

It becomes clear that the land is rested not for its own benefit but to teach us that ultimately the land does not belong to us but to G-d. There’s a great lesson here in our responsibility to safeguard the land. We cannot abuse it, working it to death to produce more crops for more money or growing on it as we please because it’s “ours.” Rather, we need to engage in a period of safeguarding the land, resting it so that it will bear fruit in future years and understanding with great humility that our land, just like everything in this world, is not exclusively ours to do with as we please. There is only one Owner of the land, and that is G-d. Our homes and all that they contain, our trees, our plants and our soil are not ours but rather ultimately G-d’s. Rather than trying to vastly increase our possessions, we need to take time once every seven years to remember the true Owner and to enable all of His creations to take from the land. We came into this world with nothing and we will leave it with nothing, while G-d remains eternal.

In studying the Laws of Conversion, I was amazed to discover that the specific laws mentioned for one to teach the convert center on the land and social justice. One must teach the proselyte that s/he cannot harvest the corners of his/her fields, instead leaving these for the poor. They are also instructed about the forgotten sheaf, which s/he cannot go back to get but rather must leave it for the poor. In addition, the prospective convert must learn about gleanings which fall from one’s arms during the harvest and which must be left on the ground for the poor. Why teach these commandments in particular? It is to demonstrate that we have a responsibility to look out for our fellow Jews (and I would add fellow humans) and make sure they have the necessities of life. A more direct way to do so is to proclaim that once every seven years your land is not your own-rather what grows on it is הפקר, available to everyone.

As we live comfortable lives in the suburbs, continuing to acquire more and more possessions, let us take moments when we do not seek to acquire more but are satisfied with the bounty that we have. May we also actively work to help those who do not have the necessities and the luxuries that we take for granted. Once every seven years, our ancestors were treated as equals-the land rested and all had ownership in what it naturally produced. May we recognize today that we are all equals and all human, bound by the same rules and responsibilities as everyone else and with the obligations to help those who are less fortunate. In doing so, may our lands be blessed and may we live our lives with fulfillment and meaning rather than feeling like we are in exile.

[1] Leviticus 26:34

[2] Rashi on Leviticus 26:32

[3] Rashi on Leviticus 26:34

[4] Leviticus 25:5

[5] Rashi on Leviticus 25:5

By Jim Merritt Special to Newsday

Whether you have been blessed with the voice of an angel, or sound more like a Muppet croaking on a lily pad, it’s likely you’ll be encouraged to sing along when you attend a worship service. This week’s clergy discuss why — no matter how your voice strikes the human ear — your singing is pleasing to the Almighty.
Rabbi Ben Herman

Jericho Jewish Center

Song is an important part of any form of worship. In Judaism it goes back to biblical times, with the words of the Psalmist “Sing unto God a new song, for God has done marvelous things.” (Psalm 98:1) We acknowledge God’s role in creating the world and sustaining us through our singing to him. Whenever God did a wonder for our people, we sang a song of praise, an example being Shirat Hayam, the song the Israelites sang after God split the Red Sea. Not only is this song read as part of the Torah reading cycle, but we stand for its recitation and sing parts of it alongside the Torah reader. Our people always praised God through song, whether it was Moses, Miriam, King David, the Levites in temple worship, the rabbis who wrote great liturgical poems and odes to our creator or the cantors who write modern compositions to praise God. Singing is what brings the service to life, enabling prayer to enter into the essence of a person’s being, to touch one’s soul. Song also enables the entire prayer community to participate in the service. Those who do not read Hebrew can connect through the power of song. The prayer leader is responsible for creating this participatory and communal feeling, adding spirituality and warmth to the service through song. There is nothing better than having a service where everyone participates by praising God with one voice. This is what the Psalmist says in his final verse, “Let every breath [soul] praise God, Hallelujah!” (Psalm 150:6)
The Rev. Earl Y. Thorpe Jr.

Pastor, Church-in-the-Garden, Garden City

We sing because it is part of our praise and worship experience in church. Just like praying, singing is honoring and blessing God, collectively, with our voices. It brings us together. Fellowship is found through song. When the choir sings, if we know the song, we can sing along (even if some of us are melodically challenged). You become part of a dynamic congregational worship experience where you are part of something bigger than yourself. In a real sense, singing the anthems and the hymns particularly, reminds us in a very visceral way of the biblical Scripture that these hymns are based on. When we sing “Amazing Grace,” for instance, it was built on someone’s life and experience, but it also is rooted in the Scriptures. It tells a story to which we can relate. Songs resonate with us because they relate a theology. “It Is Well With My Soul” is another example of this. The lyrics hearken back to the Scriptures, a belief and faith that we know and can truly feel. Even if you went to a church, and you didn’t remember the message from the preacher, most likely you would remember a song because its lyrics resonated with you. Our songs then are mini-sermons offering encouragement and hope. When you go to an installation or ordination service of a minister or a reverend, they are given a Bible and a hymnbook because they work together. Songs are vital to the church.

The Rev. Ron Stelzer
Pastor, Our Savior Lutheran Church, Centereach

Worshipful singing is the natural response of a creature to its creator and savior. Angels sang God’s praises as they witnessed the creation. When God delivered his people from Egyptian slavery, Moses and Miriam led the musical tribute: “Sing unto the Lord, Who has triumphed; horses and their riders He has thrown into the sea.” (Exodus 15:1, 21) David’s music had a spiritually therapeutic and even exorcistic effect on King Saul. In my congregation, my philosophy is that the Bible is our standard, so its music from beginning to end should be a part of our experience as well. In fact, congregational singing is a strong part of the Lutheran tradition, introduced by Martin Luther. One of the three main divisions of the Old Testament Scriptures is the hymnbook called the “Psalms.” New Testament history barely begins, and Mary is singing her “Magnificat.” Before leaving the Upper Room for Gethsemane, Jesus and his disciples sing a hymn. Early Christians are commanded to speak to each other “in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, making melody in your heart to the Lord.” (Ephesians 5:19) The Book of Revelation says heaven will be filled with a new song no man can learn but the redeemed of the Lord. Congregational singing brings all this good news of the Gospel and to God’s goodness to us.

When I think of the words shared by Mr. Konstantyn, I think of how much this resonates with us today. Unfortunately we are exposed to words of hate on a daily basis: in the news, on our television screens, on the LIRR and in this Presidential campaign. What do we do to stand up to those who preach messages of hate, to refute their words? How do we counter their messages without giving them more attention and thereby credence?

One of the most compelling speeches that I have heard on this topic was from Israeli politician Yair Lapid of the Yesh Atid party (meaning “There is a Future”), who said the following message just under 2 years ago from Platform 17 in Berlin at Grunewald railway station, from which tens of thousands of Jews were taken to their deaths:

The Holocaust causes us all to ask of ourselves the same question: What would I have done?

What would I have done if I was a Jew in Berlin in 1933, when Hitler rose to power? Would I have run? Would I have sold my house, my business? Removed my children from school in the middle of the year? Or would I have said to myself: it will pass, it is just momentary madness, Hitler says all these things because he is a politician seeking election. Yes, he’s anti-Semitic, but who isn’t? We’ve been through worse than this. It’s better to wait, to keep my head down. it will pass.”

What would I do if I was a German in Berlin on the 18th October 1941, when the first train left this platform, heading East and on it 1,013 Jews – children, women, the elderly – all destined for death.

I don’t ask what I would have done if I was a Nazi, but what would I have done if I was an honest German man, waiting for his train here? A German citizen the same age I am now, with three children like mine. A man who educated his children on the values of basic human decency and the right to life and respect? Would I have remained silent? Would I have protested? Would I have been one of the few Berliners to join the anti-Nazi underground? or one of the many Berliners who carried on with life and pretended that nothing was happening?

And what if I was one of the 1,013 Jews on that train? Would I have boarded the train? Would I have smuggled my 18 year old daughter to the northern forests? would I have told my two sons to fight until the end? Would I have dropped my suitcase and started to run? Or would I have attacked the guards in the black uniforms and died an honorable, quick death instead of dying slowly of hunger and torture?

The question that must be asked today is what we can do today to combat the messages of violence, hatred and discrimination against an entire group of people. When we have a presidential candidate who wants to deport 11 million people, who has spoken of his intent to deny members of an entire religion the right to come to the United States, do we respond to this or do we ignore it? Do we try to dialogue with those who are different with us, to understand their points of view even though we may disagree, or do we marginalize them through classifying them as “the other?” I’ll always remember the words of Elie Wiesel, “The opposite of love is not hate but indifference.” The words of FDR’s First Inaugural Address also come to mind, “The only thing to fear is fear itself.”

Almighty G-d, may our presence here on this Yom HaShoah give honor to the lives of those who came before us.  May we never forget the impact that they have made through courageously living each day.  May G-d also safeguard us by sustaining and sanctifying lives everywhere. May Jews live safely in America and in the land of Israel, in Paris and in Buenos Aires, in Japan and in Iran.  May we continue to persevere and fortify ourselves in spite of abominable anti-Semitic events being proud of our identities.  May we also never forget the impact that one person can make in the world and may it teach us to speak and act in the face of injustice.  Let us learn from the survivors and their families to be courageous and strong, living each day with meaning and purpose.  Amen.

Ever heard the phrase “if you don’t do something right better not to do it at all”? So trite but true. So easy to do yet often not done by many of us. We live in a world that encourages ADHD behavior, moving rapidly from one activity to the next, scheduling in every hour of one’s day. Parents take their kids from soccer to dance to tutoring, not getting home until 10 at night, then waking up the next morning to another brutal day of the same cycle. I know I get started with one activity but often something comes up and I’m quickly moving to the next.

For many of us, Shabbat and Yom Tov are countercultural days, opportunities for us to slow down and smell the roses. However, Passover at first glance fits into the pattern of haste and frenzy that is common in many of our daily lives. We are told to eat unleavened bread for 7 days because we left Egypt in haste.[1] Furthermore, we are taught that the Paschal lamb was eaten in haste.[2] Why is everything done so quickly? We are familiar with the idea that the Israelites had to leave in haste, lest Pharaoh change his mind and forbid their departure. However, Rabbi Isaac Luria presents a different idea: that our ancestors were so mired in the depravity of Egyptian culture that had they stayed just a little longer, they would have been contaminated beyond redemption. They were on the 49^th of 50 levels of impurity, which explains why they would so quickly construct a golden calf and yearn to return to Egypt. Rabbi Abraham Joshua Twerski writes that “even a single extra moment (in Egypt) might have sealed our doom.”[3] Thus the quick exodus from Egypt might have been on account of the Israelites’ actions just as much as it was because of Pharaoh’s fickle mind.

I’m sure there are some who are thinking if Passover is about haste, why are we still eating Matzah eight days later? Clearly G-d did not have our digestive tracks in mind when the holiday was established! All kidding aside, I would argue that the Passover that we observe today is more about slowing down than speeding up. We have had uninterrupted work weeks for months now, especially with the leap year. We have braved the chill of winter and watched the blooms of spring. One of Passover’s names is Hag HaAviv, the springtime holiday, and having come out of the winter we can now experience the rebirth of life (especially true for Karina and me). Passover enables us to take a step back and appreciate what we have, all of our freedoms. Especially now after all the houses have been purged of chametz, extraneous material, we have an opportunity to appreciate what is truly important: our families, our friends and our community.

At this moment of reflection, we also have the opportunity to think of those who are no longer with us and the impact they made and continue to make in our lives. For parents we cherish all that they put into raising us, teaching us values and ethics, molding us into the people we are today. For siblings we remember playing together in the yard, sticking up for one another in the face of bullies, being together for family celebrations and watching each other’s families grow. For a spouse we remember starting a partnership together from the laughing moments of the first dates to walking together under the wedding canopy to starting a family together. For children we remember raising them, their first steps and first words, taking them to school, teaching them to drive. These memories, though bittersweet, are important to hold onto. They not only bind us to our past but also set the foundation for the life that we continue to live each and every day.

As we prepare to say Yizkor, let us remember to slow down, taking moments to recall all those who though are physically no longer with us, they are still very much present in our hearts. May we take time to see their smile, the twinkle in their eyes, feel the caress of their hands, and remember their crowing achievements. In so doing, we continue to honor their examples and ensure that all they have stood for will continue to be an enduring benediction. We always continue to love them, to hold them near and dear to our hearts.

[1] Deuteronomy 16:3

[2] Exodus 12:11 and Mishnah Pesachim 9:5

[3] Abraham Joshua Twerski, Messages from the Mishnah (Brooklyn, NY: Mesorah Publications, LTD, 2013), p. 135.