One phrase is repeated three times over the course of our parsha. The first time it is mentioned to the entire Israelite nation, the second and third to Joshua. That phrase is חזק ואמץ, be strong and emboldened! The first time it is mentioned, our ancestors are told not to fear the other nations because G-d marches alongside them. They are never alone-G-d is always by their side to help in all their endeavors. After the Israelites’ fears are assuaged, Moses tells Joshua the same words, חזק ואמץ, to not fear that he’ll be able to do his job as the leader of the people. He tells it to him twice, in verses 7 and 23. However, the context is completely different. In verse 7, Joshua is told that the Land of Israel was sworn by G-d to their ancestors and that he will be the one to lead them into it. In verse 23, Joshua is told in addition to this that G-d will be with him. Why did G-d need to repeat that? Isn’t it obvious that G-d will be there?

Sometimes hearing by itself is not enough-we need to be reassured that what we heard is correct. After all, our greatest leader, Moses, needed to be reassured not once, not twice, not even three times but four that he was meant to lead our ancestors out of Egypt. How much more so does Joshua require reassurance that he will be successful as the next leader after our greatest prophet ever! Furthermore, in verse 7 Moses called to Joshua, telling him to be strong and emboldened. In verse 23 he commanded him to do so. He wants it solidified in Joshua’s head to have faith in his abilities to lead the Israelite people to the Promised Land and conquer it from their enemies.

It can be very easy to be afraid when going into a marriage. One transitions from being on his/her own to being a partner. Regardless of how well a couple knows each other, something changes the moment when they walk under the wedding canopy. There are always worries upon entering a marriage, as there are with any significant life transition. The key is, as in the words of Rabbi Nahman of Bratzlav, to do one’s best לא לפחד כלל, not to have any fear, to recognize that you’re in the right place for you at this particular time.

The same lesson is applied to this Sabbath of Repentance, Shabbat Shuvah. We are supposed to be in fear of our fate at this time, whether we will be in the book of life or book of death. We are supposed to meticulously examine our actions to see what we can do better, how we can improve. At the same time, we should not have any fear, for G-d is with us, guiding us along our path. We just need the wisdom to know that things will work out in the end, that we need patience, understanding and calmness.

As we continue forward towards Yom Kippur, let each of us be strong and emboldened, doing our best to prepare for a wonderful coming year. Let us also wish our best to Ethan and Haleigh for the celebration of their aufruf and their upcoming marriage. May this year 5777 be one of blessing and joy for each of us.

In rabbinical school I participated in interfaith dialogue. We had a monthly group of Jews and Christians that would go to a different theological seminary each month to study together. At one of the sessions I was asked why I became a rabbi. I gave my answer about helping a community grow, teaching Torah and bringing godliness into every encounter. Then I was asked if this was a calling for me. I paused-I had never considered a career choice a calling. Vocation yes, but a calling no. At the same time, it made me think about why we do what we do.

There’s a great Hasidic story in the book Tiferet Ha-Yehudi which I learned from Rabbi Brad Artson of the American Jewish University. It’s about Rabbi Hayim Krasner going to the town of Kransy to see an acrobat balancing himself on a high tightrope walk across the river. The Rebbi was fascinated and stared with intensity as the man made his way across the river. The crowd gasped with great amazement. When the walker finished, the Rebbe’s Hasidim, or followers, asked him, “Why was this so interesting to you?” He replied, “You might think the acrobat crossed the river because of the financial reward offered to the person who would do it. Indeed he might have stared with that motivation. But once he was up on the tightrope, if he had thought about that reward for even an instant, he would have fallen. While on the tightrope, the only thing he could think about was the next step, and the step after that. And maintaining his balance on a very narrow perch.”

Often we do things with thinking of the end benefit. After all, Stephen Covey’s second step in his book Seven Habits of Highly Effective People is to “begin with the end in mind.”[1] However, if we are solely focused on the desired outcome and not the process that it will take to reach that outcome, we will likely struggle in our endeavors. We can only go one step at a time, one day at a time, in pursuit of our goals.

Rabbinic teaching illustrates this beautifully with the principles of  תורה לשמה Torah Lishmah, learning for its own sake, and תורה שלא לשמה Torah Shelo Lishmah, learning which is for an ulterior motive. As Rabbi Meir states, “One who occupies him/herself with the Torah for its own sake acquires many things and s/he alone is sufficient for the existence of the entire world.”[2] Interestingly, the word in Hebrew is לעסוק, to occupy oneself with, meaning this is not a passive act of study but rather one of active engagement, of “living Torah.” However, we cannot do everything from a selfless feeling-after all, wanting to apply our teachings to something real and meaningful, rather than exclusively studying theoretics, is important. I appear to be in big trouble from this passage, as I apply much of what I learn to my sermons and classes, and part of my motivation for learning new things is to acquire new material to teach. However, another passage from the Talmud helps reconcile this: we should engage with Torah even for ulterior motives (שלא לשמה) because it will lead us to engage in Torah for its own sake (לשמה).[3] Even if we have an agenda, a desired outcome to achieve, and Torah is a means to this end, this does not negate the importance of what we’ve learned, and it will motivate us to continue to learn out of pure enjoyment.
The sages tell a similar teaching as to which is preferred-study or action. What do you think they concluded? Surprisingly they went with Rabbi Akiva, who said study because it leads to action.[4] Often we think that we need to do, do, do. However, if we act blindly without introspection it can be worse than not acting at all. We must be reflective, know why we are doing something and never losing sight of our ultimate goal.

Our learning must lead to action, to service of G-d and to others. At times service means actually doing the work oneself rather than relying on others. Those in the workplace know this. When there’s something you deeply care about, you show your dedication on that matter by doing it yourself rather than giving it to someone else. In this morning’s Torah portion, after Abraham was commanded to sacrifice his son Isaac, it reads וישכם אברהם בבוקר ויחבוש את חמורו, “Abraham woke up early and saddled his donkey.”[5] The rabbis ask why did Abraham saddle the donkey on his own? After all, he had numerous servants! Rashi, citing the Midrash, states הוא בעצמו ולא צוה לאחד מעבדיו, שהאהבה מקלקלת את השורה; “He himself did this without commanding his servants to do so, because love trumps propriety.”[6] Abraham’s love for G-d led him to act on his own rather than relying on a servant. One can question Abraham’s motives as to why his love for G-d superseded him challenging G-d to let his son live, but what we have here is our patriarch himself being the one to prepare for the journey to Mount Moriah.

Another more humbling example is that of Hillel, one of our great teachers from the 1^st century BCE. The Talmud states that someone who fell upon hard times should be returned to his prior standard of living. In following this tradition, Hillel purchased for an individual who had become impoverished a horse to ride on and a servant to run before him. One day, he could not find a servant, so Hillel himself ran before him for three miles.[7] Hillel lowered his personal standing to that of a servant to preserve the dignity of this man. What this man was accustomed to mattered more to Hillel than his own stature as a rabbi. Perhaps Hillel remembered his difficult days, when he could not afford to enter the Beit Midrash, the House of Study, to study Torah, instead sitting on the roof of the academy and once even being covered by snow![8] Whether or not we agree with Hillel, we know that he valued helping others in the way in which they were accustomed, even if he had to directly serve as a servant.

At times, like in these examples, being of service means taking an active role by oneself rather than relying on others. At other times it means being present for key moments in the lives of others. One summer in rabbinical school I had an internship with the Jewish Council on Urban Affairs in Chicago. The internship involved two days of learning Jewish texts on social justice, two days working at a social justice organization and one day of self-examination and reflection. A week and a half before the internship began, I found out that I was going to be placed at the InnerCity Muslim Action Network on the southwest side of Chicago. Some had concerns for my security as well as for my working with a Muslim organization, but I was stubborn and insisted on doing so.

This internship more than anything taught me about what it means to serve a community. I was a Jew working with Muslims on criminal justice reform, helping mostly Christian African Americans in inner-city Chicago. At times I felt that I wasn’t doing enough, as I was there on a very part-time basis and was not given core projects. I’m by nature an outcome-oriented person, not always having the patience to be present, waiting for an opportunity. I spoke to my supervisor, who told me, “Ben, your being here by itself means a lot.” Since then I have always kept that in the back of my mind.

So many other experiences in my life have been about being present rather than doing something. I served as a chaplaincy student at Bellevue Hospital, visiting the detox, medical and surgical units as well as prison psych. Much of being a chaplain is about listening to people’s stories and bringing out their true emotions. The prisoners were from Riker’s Island and were at Bellevue for a psychiatric evaluation before being sent back to Riker’s. Of course they wanted me to convince the psychiatrists to allow them to stay. I also never received so many requests for a kosher meal plan, as the kosher food was superior to the regular prison food.

One of the prisoners I visited stood out to me.  Jason was my age, and he had chronic pain in his knee.  He was also experiencing kidney failure and was anticipating going on dialysis.  Jason had been arrested because of illegal possession of painkillers.  I met with him four times, each for half an hour, and every meeting he was depressed, hallucinatory and suicidal.  I listened to and affirmed Jason, and I read him two psalms that addressed pain and suffering.  After I read these psalms, Jason told me that this was the first time since his Bar Mitzvah that he found meaning in Judaism.  He also said, “You’re the only one here who believes in me.” For Jason, what was most important was that I believed in who he was and had faith that he would succeed despite his challenges of being in prison.

Since entering the rabbinate, I’ve also learned that a lot of what it means to serve is being a listening ear, whether comforting a family, listening to students’ reactions in the classroom or attending a board or committee meeting. The concept of service, or  עבודה, is also reflected in our tradition, for this is the word used for worshiping G-d. During Temple times, our ancestors worshiped through sacrificing animals, a reminder that “this could have been you-repent your ways.” Today we worship through prayer, known as עבודה שבלב, the worship of the heart. Our being truly present in a moment of prayer, striving to transcend our momentary crises and to connect with something greater than ourselves, is what it means to be a servant of G-d. At times this is not easy, as when the road ahead is fraught with great difficulty. I’ll always remember Rabbi Neil Gillman telling me that he needs to pray because sometimes “I need a G-d to cry out to in anger.”[9] Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik talked about what it means to be the Lonely Man of Faith, to believe in a better future when the foundations and anchors that surround you appear to be crumbling down.[10]

When we continue with our davening, I’d like everyone to think about what it means to you to serve others, whether through your work, your family, or our community. How are you present for others at moments of vulnerability and how do you affirm their struggles without losing your own faith? At times we are called upon to do great things but at other times our job is to be present and engaged with our inner self, which we need to do before we can engage in the struggles of those around us-and that is one of the central purposes of coming together on the High Holidays. In 5777, let us strive to be more present and engaged where we are at as well as with our loved ones. In so doing, may we always remember who we are, why we are here and what we can do to be present with ourselves and with those who need us.

[1] Stephen Covey, The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1989), Page 95.

[2] Pirkei Avot 6:1

[3] Babylonian Talmud Sanhedrin 105b

[4] Babylonian Talmud Kiddushin 40b

[5] Genesis 22:3

[6] Rashi on Genesis 22:3 citing Bereshit Rabbah 55:8

[7] Babylonian Talmud Ketubot 67b

[8] Babylonian Talmud Yoma 35b

[9] Conversation with Rabbi Gillman.

[10] Joseph Soloveitchik, The Lonely Man of Faith (New York: Doubleday, 1965), 42.

I’m a fan of classic rock, and one of my favorite bands is Foreigner. They wrote a song called Feels Like the First Time, and one of the lyrics is “It feels like the first time like it never will again.” When we reflect on our first time experiences: the novelty, the excitement of the unknown, even the fear, what comes to mind? Do you remember your first time coming to High Holiday services as a child, or at the Jericho Jewish Center? I imagine your experience then was quite different than it is today.

I reflect on the first time I led High Holiday services, when I was in Year One of rabbinical school. It was Kol Nidre evening and I was at Florida State University. Underneath my Kittel my legs were shaking, and I was pacing back and forth. I was so nervous I had to step aside before the service began to compose myself so that I could step into a room with over 300 college students.

I wish I had had the words of Rabbi Adam Frank in my head at that moment. Two years later, I was in my year of study in Israel, and a friend and I were reading the double portion Tazria/Metzora at Congregation Moreshet Israel. For those who do not know, Parshat Tazria/Metzora is the most difficult portion to learn, as it does not follow traditional Hebrew grammatical patterns-rather, one has to memorize the words and their sequence. I was thinking how could I master this portion in front of a congregation of Israelis, who would know every time I made a mistake. Rabbi Frank could tell I was nervous, and he said to me, “Don’t worry about them (pointing to the congregants); worry about Him (pointing to G-d). It was at that moment that I knew what was truly important-a focus on a higher matter than what others around me might think.

There’s a story about a Yeshiva bochur who was going to lead High Holiday services for the first time. He was nervous, scouring the prayerbook to make sure he had every piyyut (liturgical poem) down perfectly. He then set up a meeting with his rabbi to go over the service. The rabbi listened to his concerns, knowing that this boy had gone to services for the majority of his life and knew the prayers. He told him, “The prayerbook hasn’t changed since last year; how have you changed?”[1]

Every year we gather together here at the Jericho Jewish Center, saying the same prayers, atoning for our sins and then returning to our regular routines . As we engage in this process of repentance, let us ponder the question: How have you changed in the past year? What are you doing differently than when we gathered together last September? How are you becoming a better person, taking more time for your family, putting more effort into your work, eliminating bad habits and strengthening good ones? Our service may not have changed much but you have certainly changed. You’re one year older and wiser with more life experience, the wisdom to guide you on your path.

I strongly believe that none of us are here by accident-each of us has a specific path to walk down, a mission to follow, a destiny to embrace. During these holidays we take our personal heshbon hanefesh, our accounting of what we are doing, how we are progressing on our journey through life. It’s too easy to go through the prayers by rote, saying hello to our neighbors and then walking out the door until next year. It’s far more difficult, though crucial, to sit back and ponder who we are and in which direction we are heading.

I sometimes wish I was back in those days at Florida State University, at Congregation Moreshet Israel, or even back at the Jericho Jewish Center two years ago for my first High Holiday. Having an experience for the first time forces one to step off autopilot and be fully present in the moment. The challenge is when one becomes accustomed to a way of practice and does it by rote. How can we ensure that these High Holidays will be a unique experience, one that will be meaningful and life-changing for us? How will we ensure that we are on the road to positive change in the year 5777?

On Rosh Hashanah we traditionally eat some special items, one of which is apples dipped in honey. These are called Simanim, or “signs” for a good new year. Each one has a saying after it, a wish (יהי רצון) “may it be your will” for the coming year. One of the items traditionally eaten is the fish head (I know, not the most appetizing). The words said for eating the fish head is שיהיה לראש ולא יהיה לזנב, that we should be like the head and not like the tail. In other words, we need to be a leader, not a follower. It’s too easy to follow the same patterns year in and year out-it’s a lot harder to lead by changing ourselves for the better, working on techniques to “liberate us from enslaving habits which disturb us and give us no rest.”[2]

The High Holidays are called HaYamim HaNoraim, the Days of Awe, as they are meant to inspire us, to give us a sense of renewal, of reinvigorated energy to begin the year. Think about when the last time you had an experience that brought awe into your life. For me it began with the birth of my daughter, Ariela. Each and every day I get to see first-hand her sense of wonder as she discovers new things about herself and the world in which we live. I see how she looks at the world with eyes wide open, at first energized by things as simple as a spinning mobile or a rattle and now engrossed by the strings on my tallit or the straps of my Tefillan in morning minyan or by a cell phone or the television remote. Abraham Joshua Heschel said “wonder rather than doubt is the root of all knowledge,”[3] that we develop through self-growth and positive thinking rather than through despair and sadness.

Rosh Hashanah’s significance is that it is the birthday of the world. In the Musaf service, we will say three times היום הרת עולם-this is the day on which the world was created. For this passage there is a creative interpretation by Rabbi Rachel Barenblat, who blogs by “The Velveteen Rabbi.” She writes that היום הרת עולם means “today is pregnant with eternity.”[4] In other words, anything’s possible on any given day. We are not bound by the same old but rather we must open ourselves up to new possibilities. Rosh Hashanah provides a lightning rod for doing so, for reflecting on how we want the coming year to go and what type of person we want to be this year. I think about what type of rabbi, husband, father, son, teacher and leader I want to be in 5777, how I want to get rid of bad habits and refine myself for the better. Thank G-d Rosh Hashanah comes around every year and enables us to be introspective and reflective…as long as it is followed by acting in a constructive and proactive manner.

Think of the moments that have inspired you to change. It could be a wakeup call of some kind, a matter needing urgent attention, or it could be a characteristic you noticed in someone else that you wanted to emulate. We hope for more of the latter as opposed to the former, as too often we wait too long to make the constructive, beneficial changes that would greatly aide us. Now is the time to do so-for Rosh Hashanah (ראש השנה) can also be thought of as Rosh HaShinui (ראש השינוי), the time for making changes.
When we return to daven together next year I imagine that the prayerbook will still be the same. You might be sitting in the same seats next to the same people. However, you will have changed over the course of the next year. Perhaps you will take those Krav Maga lessons or learn how to sail. Maybe you will find a way to be better connected with friends and family who live far away or to be more patient, kind and gentle for those who are in your midst. Perchance you will gain the skills necessary for a job promotion. Perhaps you’ll go to Africa to help at an orphanage. Maybe you’ll even win at Pokemon Go! Whatever this new year brings, think about what you can do to grow as a person so that when we meet again you will be able to say, “I certainly have changed for the better, and it was well worth the effort.”

We cannot go back to “the first time,” as enticing as that might be at times. At times we will get downtrodden with our situation but instead of staying stuck in the moment, we do our best to move ahead, finding enjoyment in every opportunity, striving to make 5777 a year filled with growth, vitality and inspiration. How can we change ourselves in the coming year so that we will look at our jobs, our partners, our families with a renewed sense of wonder, or to quote Heschel again, “radical amazement?”[5] The prayers we say might not have changed but we certainly have and we will continue to do so as we progress on our life’s journey. Let us continually ask ourselves how to bring positive change into our routines, so that we will always look at our lives with wonder and with joy.

I invite you to join us right now in the reflective process of how you will change as the Cantor Black will begin to chant the Hineni prayer on Page 124. Before he begins, however, I want to share a reading by Rabbi Rami Shapiro entitled A Different Kind of a Hineni in hopes that this gives us some additional insight into this important prayer:

Hineni. Here I am.

A little bit nervous, a bit self-conscious.

After all, who am I talking to?

And what have I done?

Am I a sinner in search of grace

Or a saint seeking salvation?

Am I so evil

Or so good

As to warrant this season of introspection?

And yet here it is, and here I am:

This time of change and correction,

This heart of confusion and contrition.

Oh, if I could change!

If I could be so sure of myself

That I no longer had to imagine the slights of others;

To be so loving of myself

That I no longer had to ration my loving of others;

To be so bold with myself

That I no longer had to fear the bravery of other.

Oh, if I could change

There is so much I would change.

Maybe I will, but it scares me so.

Maybe I won’t and that should scare me more.

But it doesn’t.

So let me pray just this:

Let no one be put to shame because of me.

Wouldn’t that make this a wonderful year?

Hineni-Here I am![6]

 

 

[1] Learned from Rabbi Jonathan Hecht

[2] Text of English reading for Hashkivenu is Siddur Hadash , p. 61

[3] Abraham Joshua Heschel, Man is Not Alone.

[4] Blog posting in The Velveteen Rabbi, “Being Change” on September 17, 2012.

[5] Longer version of quotation, “Our goal should be to live life in radical amazement. ….get up in the morning and look at the world in a way that takes nothing for granted. Everything is phenomenal; everything is incredible; never treat life casually. To be spiritual is to be amazed.”

[6] From The World of the High Holy Days Volume II, edited by Rabbi Jack Riemer, Pages 103-104.

Parshat Nitzavim is special because it reaffirms the covenant that we made with G-d. All of Israel was gathered together: ראשיהם שבטיכם זקניהם ושוטריכם: “Your tribal heads, elders and guards,”[1] to receive G-d’s words. The covenant was accepted with some special witnesses, as G-d says “I call heaven and earth to witness against you this day: I have put before you life and death, blessing and curse. Choose life ((ובחרת בחיים-that both you and your offspring may live.[2]

Was there really any choice besides life? What does it mean to choose life? In his Mishneh Torah, Maimonides asserts that “choice is given to every person, whether he wishes to lead himself into a good path and be righteous or whether he wishes to lead himself into a bad path and be wicked; this is the meaning of ‘Now that man has become like one of us, knowing good and bad.’[3] Humankind is unique in the world in that a human can know the good and the bad from his/her own mind and thought and do whatever s/he pleases, without anyone coercing him/her.” He continues, “This (free choice) is a fundamental principle of the Torah and its mitzvoth, as it says ‘See, this day I set before you blessing and curse.’ This means that choice is given to you, and whatever a person desires to do of human doings s/he may do-whether good or bad. It is on account of this that it says ‘May they always be of such mind, to revere Me and follow all My commandments, that it may go well with them and with their children forever.’[4] Thus, the Creator, does not coerce people or pre-destine them to do good or bad, rather everything is given over for them to choose.[5]

Maimonides takes a philosophical perspective that our mission in life is to make proper choices. The Torah T’mimah, a compilation of teachings from the Talmud and Midrash about biblical verses, references the Yerushalmi,[6] where Rabbi Yishmael teaches that choosing life refers to teaching a trade. One of the requirements is for a parent to ensure that his/her children will be self-sufficient through their learning a trade, and if the parents do not do so, the child must teach himself. The reason for this is our verse, ‘that you,’ and by implication the offspring which emanate from you, shall live.[7]  Making the right choices begins through proper instruction from one’s parents, and it is a parent’s obligation to set his/her child on the proper path.

There were numerous translations of the Torah into Aramaic, called the Targumim, or “translations”. Each week we are commanded to study שני מקרא ואחד תרגום, the weekly portion twice in Hebrew and once in translation. The most common translation read is Onkelos, from a convert who has the most literal translation from Hebrew to Aramaic. One of my favorites to read, however, is Targum Yonatan, as there are added elements to the text. Yonatan translates our passage as “choose the way of life-that is Torah-so that you will live the life of the world to come, both you and your children.”[8] Yonatan adds the elements of making life, or חיים, synonymous with Torah, as well as the fact that the life being referenced to is that of the world to come.

Of the three interpretations, Rambam is the most rational-G-d, in His beneficence, gives us the opportunity to choose our destiny, that it is up to us to live lives of meaning, Torah and G-dliness. The Torah T’mimah goes one step further, asserting that we must educate the next generation on the proper path so they will follow in our footsteps. Targum Yonatan in some ways is the most difficult of the three, as it is focused on following Torah not to beat fruit in this world but for a reward in a world to come, which is difficult to grasp. However, I think he is saying that through living a life of Torah, we will ensure that our offspring will also do so and they will pay it forward to their children. In so doing, the household will continue to choose the proper path.

It’s not always so easy to see things this way in our culture that promotes individualization and secularism. In his article “The Heretical Imperative,” Peter Berger writes that a hareisis originally meant “the taking of a choice,”[9] meaning that in some sense we are all Jews by choice today. We can choose to live a Jewish life, observe Halacha, study the wisdom from our tradition, or we can choose not to. In his book Will We Have Jewish Grandchildren?, Rabbi Jonathan Sacks argues that we need to invest more of our resources in Jewish education. That education must be not only for our children and grandchildren but also for ourselves. How many of us take the time to study Talmud or Midrash, which are readily accessible in English translations? How many of us strive to increase our personal Jewish observance, whether coming more often to support our minyan, refraining from doing work on Shabbat, or increasing our level of kashrut? If we don’t set the example, if we don’t teach the trade, our children and grandchildren will not get the message. This is something I am increasingly aware of as my daughter grows and develops her capabilities for understanding and processing knowledge.

As we approach another Rosh Hashanah, the onset of 5777, let us make the choice to strengthen our Jewish lives. As we gather together for meals with family and friends, may we ensure that there is Jewish content: the saying of brachot before and after eating, the singing of zmirot, or special holiday songs, and the teaching of Torah at the meal. Through choosing to engage in Torah, we will increase the richness of our holiday and set an example for the coming generations to emulate. Let us choose wisely and may it lead to us having a blessed and enriched 5777.

[1] Deuteronomy 29:9

[2] Deuteronomy 30:19

[3] Genesis 3:22

[4] Deuteronomy 5:26

[5] Maimonides, Mishneh Torah, Laws of T’shuvah, 5:1, 5:3

[6] Jerusalem Talmud Tractate Kiddushin 1:7

[7] Rabbi Baruch HaLevi Epstein, Torah Temimah, Deuteronomy 30:19

[8] Tagrum Yonatan, Deuteronomy 30:19

[9] Peter Berger, The Heretical Imperative, (New York: Doubleday, 1980), 11.

 

This week concluded three life-changing lectures for me as we had Dr. Arthur Kurzweil as our Scholar-in-Residence. I had studied Kabbalah at JTS and taught the basics of Kabbalah at the Jericho Jewish Center but Dr. Kurzweil explained the Sefirot, or emanations of G-d, as well as the central teachings of Kabbalah in a way that finally made sense to me. Dr. Kurzweil has been the driver and close confidant of Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz, one of the greatest minds of our generation, a master Kabbalist and scholar of Talmud who recently completed translating the entire Talmud into English, after previously translating it into Modern Hebrew. Dr. Kurzweil often quoted Rabbi Steinsaltz in his remarks.

The first talk was 20 Kabbalistic Ideas I Made Sure to Teach My Grandchildren. One of the ideas that really clicked with me is “Sometimes It’s Appropriate to Be Inappropriate,” that nothing is black-and-white. He referenced a story I had heard from Rabbi Berel Wein that if someone comes to you asking if a chicken’s kosher and they cannot afford another one, you find a way to say that the chicken is kosher. He also mentioned the Lincoln Square Synagogue mehitza which is made out of glass but is serving a young, single Orthodox population who might not come to a synagogue that had a tall, opaque mehitza. He also referenced how a woman ran towards Rabbi Steinsaltz to embrace him and rather than embarrass her he opened his arms so that they touched hands. He contrasted this with the Hasid Shoteh, or pious fool, who sees a woman drowning and says “halachically I can’t touch her,” so he lets her drown.

The other principle that hit me was that you need to taste/experience things and every once in awhile you get a flash of understanding. Dr. Kurzweil said in the name of Rabbi Steinsaltz to not only teach your children what they can understand but also the most abstract theological notions. For the Kabbalist, the blessings are the moments of awareness and consciousness with which one can connect with G-d.

The second session was The Kabbalist and Suffering.Dr. Kurzweil began by asking how does it feel for the angel of death to separate the body and soul? The Talmud (which he said it one in the same with Kabbalah), says that it either feels like separating a hair from a glass of milk or a ball of spikes in the throat with someone pulling on the rope. Do you view death as a graduation or as something to resist? Rabbi Steinsaltz said that the meaning of “Niftar,” or to die, is that one’s soul is patur, or relieved, of its earthly duties. He defined the soul as any part of one’s body which is not physical and talked about gilgul haneshamot, the reincarnation of souls. The conclusion he gave about suffering is that while we don’t discuss suffering with someone when they are suffering, later we tell them that suffering is considered a “descent for the sake of ascension,”-that when we suffer it is to raise us up to overcome it, and our soul will be on a higher level because of it. He said obviously it can’t explain the major, cataclysmic sufferings, such as the Holocaust (in fact, he spoke of how Rabbi Steinsaltz, when asked to speak about the Holocaust, gave an hour and a half speech about why he was not, for people are still suffering from it). At the same time, he said it helps explain the smaller examples of suffering in his life.

The topic of Dr. Kurzweil’s third and final session was Who Am I? Where Did I Come From? Where am I Going? What for? Why?  He began the talk by quoting Rabbi Steinsaltz who told the New York Board of Rabbis, “Kabbalah is the official theology of the Jewish people.” He discussed how Rabbi Steinsaltz’s book The Thirteen Petaled Rose references different levels of consciousness: the physical, emotional, intellectual and spiritual aspects. These correspond to four of the five levels of the soul: nefesh, ruah, neshamah and hayah. as well as to the four worlds referenced at the Tu B’Shvat Seder: asiyah, beriah, yetzirah and atzilut. The question, Dr. Kurzweil posed, is which is the rider and which is the horse? Do our emotions direct our intellect or vice versa?

Dr. Kurzweil then went into greater detail about the Sefirot, the ten emanations of G-d, which he had begun to describe the previous week. Keter, or crown, is above everything else and represents those aspects of G-d to which we can’t connect. Then there is a triangle of Chochmah (intuition/flashes of awareness), Binah (analyzing/breaking things apart) and Daat (one’s inner experience), all of which deal with intellect. The next triangle is chesed (the quality of expansiveness/reaching outward), Gevurah (contraction, inwardness) and Tiferet (harmony between the two) which deal with emotions. Finally there is the triad of Netzach (the urge to get things done), Hod (bearing down and actually doing it) and Yesod (connection) which represents our physicality. Finally there is Malchut, the “kingdom,” and all of these triangles impact the greater kingdom.

Dr. Kurzweil described Halacha as the choreography of a dance, that all of the “do’s” and “don’ts” are not ends in and of themselves but rather the beginning of a process of connecting with G-d. Each of our acts is of cosmic proportion, including saying Modeh Ani when we wake up, differentiating between our soul (the rider) and our body (the horse). Then we clean our hands as a sign of purification (Taking the high road when we make choices). He described the Shemonah Esrei, or Amidah, as a ladder of consciousness and how one’s 5 fingers around the Kiddush cup correspond to the 5 levels of the soul.

I found Dr. Kurzweil’s talks extremely compelling as we engage in this process of Heshbon Hanefesh, of self-accounting, approaching Rosh Hashanah. Let us strive for something deeper these High Holidays in connecting with G-d and with our community. As Dr. Kurzweil said quoting Rabbi Steinsaltz, “one’s relationship with G-d is a personal affair.” However, he also quoted the Lubavitcher Rebbe after Dr. Steinsaltz came to him saying he had 3 projects to do, each of which would take more than a lifetime. The Rebbe said, “Add to them,” for he believed one could put so much pressure on him/herself that s/he could transform into a different person. May we work hard to strengthen ourselves and engage in self-transformation so that we can ascend to greater heights than we had ever imagined.

Shabbat Shalom and Shana Tova

How are we supposed to live our lives?  It seems fairly simple when we look at Parshat Ki Tavo. The portion states “G-d will establish us as His holy people, as He swore to you, if you keep the commandments of G-d and walk in his ways.”[1] What does it mean to walk in G-d’s ways? In words attributed to the Prophet Elijah,כל השונה הלכות מובטח לו שהוא חלק מעולם הבא, שנאמר “הליכות עולם לו:” אל תקרא הליכות אלא הלכות  “Whoever repeats laws, it is clear that he will be part of the world to come, as it says (Habbakuk 6:3) ‘All the paths of the world are his’-do not read paths, rather laws.”[2] This pun between the words הליכות, or paths, and הלכות, or laws, is meant to make them viewed interchangeably. What, however, does it mean to walk in G-d’s ways? Here we go to Eliyahu Rabbah, a Midrash which is ascribed to the Prophet Elijah, which states “and you should walk in His ways-in the ways of heaven. Just as the ways of heaven are to be merciful and have mercy on the wicked, to accept them in repentance, so too shall you be merciful to one another.” [3] This is exactly what it says back in Parshat Eikev, “Now O Israel, what does G-d demand of you? Only this: to revere G-d and walk in G-d’s paths, to love G-d and to serve G-d with all your heart and soul.”[4] As Rashi states, “Just as G-d is merciful, so too shall you be merciful. Just as G-d does acts of lovingkindness, so too shall you do acts of lovingkindness.”[5]

Our job is clearly to walk in G-d’s ways. If we do so, we will be rewarded for our efforts. If not, we will be punished by the curses enumerated in our parsha. In line with the rabbinic principle of  מדה כנגד מדה, what goes around comes around. However, does this philosophy work for us as 21^st century Jews? I worry that it too easily gives us an excuse for blaming calamities and natural disasters on our sins. Our goal therefore cannot be to simply live in a kumbaya world where everyone gets along with one another and all works perfectly. Similarly, it is counterproductive for us to see every bad thing that happens to us as a curse from G-d.

A Mishnah from Tractate Berachot enumerates how the philosophy of Ki Tavo is not necessarily one to enumerate. It reads “a person is required to bless G-d for the evil just as he blesses G-d for the good. As it is written, ‘you shall love the LORD your G-d with all your heart, with all your soul and with all your might.”[6] How does one love G-d with all their might? Through each measure (both good and bad) that G-d gives us.[7]  What matters is not what happens to us as much as how we respond to the cards we are dealt. As Arthur Kurzweil said on Tuesday, to say גם זו לטובה. To walk with G-d is not to praise Him when it is easy, but rather when things aren’t going the way we like. Of course this is easier said than done but it is what it means to truly walk with G-d and be a ירא שמים, one who is G-d fearing.

Our laws and our traditions are pathways to teach us the proper way to act in the world. They demonstrate to us how we are supposed to conduct ourselves even when we are struggling with our own personal situations. That’s why the remedy given for someone who is “troubled” is to help one in need, so that the person does a mitzvah while at the same time feels better about his/her situation. Jewish laws, the halakhot, are supposed to guide us on the path of making a positive difference in the world. Without the goal of being G-dlike through helping the needy and doing good, even when we’re feeling down or upset, we will not be on a path towards G-dliness. Through helping others with love and kindness we will ensure that we are blessed at all times-as our parsha says ברוך אתה בבואך וברוך אתה בצאתך-you shall be blessed in your coming and in your going.[8]

We see an example of this today as we honor the great milestone of Phil’s 90^th birthday. Phil is what we call a gute neshama, such a caring, sweet person. The same can be said for his dear wife Pearl and his devoted daughter Barbara, who is the backbone of our shul.

We are also remembering an אשת חיל, Gladys z”l who was the matriarch of her family. As her shloshim ends, we pray that her sons find comfort as they continue to say Kaddish in her memory.

[1] Deuteronomy 28:9

[2] Babylonian Talmud Megillah 28b

[3] Eliyahu Rabbah Chapter 24, Section At the time when a person is honored.

[4] Deuteronomy 11:22

[5] Rashi on Deuteronomy 11:22

[6] Detueronomy 6:4

[7] Mishnah Berchot 9:5

[8] Deuteronomy 28:6

So much of Parshat Ki Tetzei centers on marriage, though not from a perspective we will discuss today. We no longer have “war brides” or polygamy, nor is virginity our primary concern in finding a partner. Rather, we will turn to the Sixth Aliyah, which begins “when a man marries a new wife he is not taken into the army, nor shall it impose upon him any manner; he shall be free to reside at his home for one year, and he shall bring joy to the wife he married.”[1] Our ancestors are given this law just as they are about to enter the land of Israel.

Why exempt one from battle who was just married? There are numerous servicemen and servicewomen in the United States who deploy soon after marrying, not granted this reprieve. In contemporary Israel, only women are exempt from service on account of marriage, not men.[2] What’s interesting to me is that in last week’s parsha, Shofetim, it states, “Whichever man has bethrothed a woman and not married her, let him go home lest he die in battle and another marry her.”[3] That section deals with unfinished business, as opposed to this one, which talks about a consummated process.

The Talmud points out that the woman in our parsha is called אשה חדשה, a new wife, and that it does not matter whether she has been married before.[4] Rashi asserts that the point is not the wife’s status but rather a man bringing joy to his wife.[5] I would add that because this woman has just married, for her to be left by her husband would be an act of exceptional cruelty, especially if he disappears, making her an agunah, or “chained women,” forbidden to move on to someone else. There’s also something to be said for the fact that a husband and wife need to learn to live with each other before they separate for any length of time.

Nowadays we have the honeymoon as a week, maybe two, for the bride and groom to be alone and celebrate together. The Torah, in contrast, teaches us to have a yearlong honeymoon with the special custom of dipping challah into honey. Just as we dip challah in honey on Rosh Hashanah for a sweet new year, so too do we dip for the entire first year of marriage for a sweet new life together. There’s also a tradition to call the couple hatan and kalah (bride and groom) during their entire first year of marriage, to emphasize the newness of their relationship. I’ve also heard (though found no basis for it) a tradition of the couple not separating from one another during the first year of marriage-that a wife would actually accompany her husband to work! Of course this is impractical nowadays with two-income families-not to mention that the couple might just get tired of one another if they’re never able to be apart.

Why emphasize this today at the auf ruf of a couple who is not getting married until July? I would argue that the longer one is together the more difficult it can be to rekindle that sense of newness and freshness. That’s why our parsha teaches that one who has recently married needs time to develop the relationship with his/her partner before going off. The Torah recognizes that without a solid foundation, the marriage will not have what it needs to succeed amidst life’s challenges. The joy of the Shanah Rishonah where the focus can be on just the couple, creates a basis that will weather any storm or surprise. This is evidence that the purpose of marriage in Judaism is not merely procreation but rather for a couple to bring joy to one another.

Sam and Heather, I know you’ve succeeded to bring joy to your families this morning. It was such a mitzvah that you joined us here to celebrate your aufruf, the synagogue which Sam’s grandfather, Bernie Berko, helped build and shape, and that you were called up to the Torah that he dedicated in memory of his father. We wish you nothing but happiness and bliss as you continue to strengthen your relationship, bringing joy to one another as רעים אהובים, loving companions. Mazal Tov on your aufruf! So that we can celebrate together as a congregation, I ask that we turn to Page 838 and continue responsively.

[1] Deuteronomy 24:5

[2] Section 39 of the Israeli Security Service Law

[3] Deuteronomy 20:7

[4] Sotah 44a

[5] Rashi on Deuternomy 25:5 ושמח

Let us take a moment of silence to remember all who perished in 9/11, including Glen Winnick, who had his Bar Mitzvah at the Jericho Jewish Center, served as a volunteer fire fighter and worked at the World Trade Center.

I put on the headphones and slowly stepped into the room. I felt the cold metal in my hand as I carefully gripped the handle. I steadied myself, pushing my finger back to the trigger and saw the target. I raised the pistol, aimed and fired. The guy next to me had what looked like a semiautomatic machine gun and kept firing round after round. After I finished my ammo, I was shaking. I spoke to the congregant who brought me and said, “this is such a foreign experience to me.” He replied, “going to a shooting range in Arizona is like eating a deli sandwich in New York.”

This was my one experience with guns. For some gun use is recreational. For others, however, gun use is pathological. By the time I finish this talk, 15 people will die from guns. The fact that over 300 people are shot each day demonstrates that we have a broken process that must be changed. It’s far too easy to obtain a firearm and use it for destructive purposes.

One need only think of the shootings in Charleston, San Bernadino, Paris, Orlando, Sandy Hook Columbine, and all those that have not made the national news. I imagine that each of us decries these shootings and felt our heart wrenched for the innocent victims. Whenever we hear of innocent blood being spilled, our hearts are torn and we can get full of anger and outrage. We worry about our lives and those of our loved ones and we strive to protect ourselves. That’s why we have increased security for this year’s high holidays. At the same time, we want to have a sense of healing and wholeness, some semblance of an answer to this senselessness.

This summer I read an article by Rabbi Joshua Flug entitled “Gun Control in Halachah”[1] in Jewish Action, the magazine of the Orthodox Union. Rabbi Flug begins with next week’s parsha, which states that one may not place hazards in his/her home.[2] Rambam, or Maimonides, a 12th century physician for among others the Sultan, asserts that any potentially lethal hazard must be removed from one’s possession.[3]

There are different opinions as to whether one can bring a gun into shul on Shabbat. The Talmud records a debate between Rabbi Eliezer and other rabbis over whether a weapon counts as carrying. While the rabbis assert that it does, Rabbi Eliezer proclaims that a weapon is an adornment to one’s clothing, like jewelry, and therefore is permitted.[4] The Shulchan Aruch states that some forbid entering a synagogue with a long sword because a synagogue lengthens the days of life through prayer whereas a sword shortens them.[5] However, Mishnah Berurah cites Eliyahu Rabbah which states that one can bring a sword as long as it is covered.[6] Of course a sword is different than a gun, so we need to go to the modern Poskim, rabbinic decisors. The Tzitz Eliezer states that one can bring a gun to shul as long as the bullets are taken out, for then it no longer resembles a weapon.[7]

But is this really the final word? What do we do when a terrorist enters our house of worship? I remember too well the shooting at a Sikh Temple outside of Milwaukee as well as the murder of African Americans at Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston. We also remember bombings of Jewish institutions throughout the world, in Istanbul, Buenos Aries, Atlanta, Jerusalem to name a few.

I’m sure we have different views on guns, yet I imagine we agree that these senseless acts of violence need to stop. There’s a group called Rabbis Against Gun Violence, of which I am a member. In June after the Orlando massacre, a book was written for which rabbis were welcome to submit essays, poems or thoughts. Here is what I wrote, called “Two Worlds”:

 

In which world will my daughter grow up?

The world in which people are loved for who they are

Or the world in which people are hated for being different?

 

In which world will my daughter grow up?

The world of open-mindedness and compassion

Or the world of prejudice and racism?

 

In which world will my daughter grow up?

The world in which we work together

Or the world in which we grow apart?

 

In which world will my daughter grow up?

The world of self-fulfillment and happiness

Or the world of frustration and anger?

 

In which world will my daughter grow up?

The world where guns are melted down to make building tools

Or the world where guns are used for wanton acts of violence?

 

I will do my part to ensure

That my daughter grows up in the world of embracing others

Loving all people regardless of race, religion and sexual orientation

And pray that the world in which she will live

Will no longer know the horror of these shootings.

 

We need to act to ensure a better future, one where people are taught love not hate, one where there is room for those who look different or are of a different race or religion. Obviously I’m preaching to the choir. However, I believe that healing begins with oneself, letting go of any prejudices or animosity that we feel and striving to bring forth a world filled with love and compassion. This is easier said than done in our world which too often has violence and senseless hatred, yet if we work hard to teach the next generation kindness and acceptance, we have a chance to bring it forward. As Rabbi Shalom Noach Borozovsky teaches in his book Netivot Shalom, we cannot be another, only ourselves, and we must use our full self to engage in תקון עולם, repair of the world.[8]

Almighty G-d, let us pray for all the victims of the shootings. May we be vigilant against those who seek to do us harm while trying to bring goodness and healing to those who have experienced tragic losses. Let us never take life for granted, striving to live each day with a sense of wholeness and purpose even when newspaper articles, the internet and the television seem to be focusing on violence and divisiveness. G-d, help us to do everything we can to work constructively to repair the shards of emptiness and desolation in our world, and in so doing, we must do our part to bring healing. May we protect ourselves while concurrently praying for the day when “men shall beat their swords into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks.”[9]  In your name רפאך, the healer, we pray, Amen.

[1] “Jewish Action,” Summer 2016.

[2] Deuteronomy 22:8

[3] Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Rotzeach 11:4

[4] Mishnah Shabbat 6:4

[5] Shulchan Aruch 151:6

[6] Mishnah Berurah 151:22

[7] Rabbi Eliezer Waldenberg, Tzitz Eliezer 10:18

[8] Netivot Shalom, Parshat Lech Lecha

[9] Isaiah 2:4

See this video about all the great things happening at the Jericho Jewish Center.

A Place for You to Call Home

Have you ever wished that someone would just do what you asked of them? Perhaps it is an obstinate child or a friend who won’t take your advice. Have you threatened to punish the person for his/her disobedience? A familiar passage from the end of our Torah reading should come to light.

The sixth Aliyah in Parshat Eikev has become the second paragraph of the Shema. It begins by stating that if the Israelites listen to and follow G-d’s commandments, specifically when they are living in the land of Israel, they will be rewarded with rain in its proper time as well as flourishing crops. In contrast, if they disobey, there will be no rain. The commandments are supposed to be bound on our hands and between our eyes (the Tefillan) and inscribed on the doorposts of our homes and our gates (the Mezuzah).

This passage, at the center of our worship, has troubled many, including the rabbis, who stated צדיק ורע לו רשע וטוב לו, “the righteous suffer and the evil prosper.”[1] Because of this, the Reform Siddur has excised this paragraph of the Shema and the Reconstructionist offered an alternative section about blessings that will befall our people when they enter the land of Israel.[2] The question is just because there are examples liturgy?

In the Conservative Movement, rather than removing passages which seem incongruous with contemporary life, we keep them in and try to reinterpret them. I truly believe that our performing mitzvot contributes to improving society. Our taking one day out of a week to rest recharges our batteries, making us better parents, employees and friends. Following the commandments to look after those most vulnerable in our society helps protect those who have no advocates, strengthening them to hopefully one day be in a position of self-sufficiency. Our inviting people who have nowhere to go to Rosh Hashanah dinner or Yom Kippur breakfast not only engenders goodwill but also motivates them to “pay it forward” and continue to look out for others.

Even if we do not always see the manifestations of justice in the world, we must strive to believe in a G-d who is just, who wants our betterment and for us to do what we can to strengthen those who need support. A Talmudic statement reads מה המקום נקרא רחום וחנון אף אתה  הוי רחום וחנון, “Just as G-d is compassionate and merciful, so too must you be compassionate and merciful.”[3] The passage continues that we must follow every one of G-d’s 13 attributes because we are commanded to “walk in G-d’s ways”[4] and as G-d is called all of these things so too must we emulate G-d.

What it means for us to listen to G-d’s commandments is not just a matter of obedience but also to take on the opportunity to emulate G-d in providing for those who have needs. The people of Israel are viewed as   אגודה אחת, a collective bundle. If one of us is suffering, all of us are suffering. We therefore must ensure that we are the best people we can be, as we are emissaries of G-d working to make the world a better place. In that vein, all of us will have the crops that we need, the resources that we require in our proper time. Let us stop relying on G-d to provide for those in our midst and take it upon ourselves to contribute to creating a just society. In that vein the second paragraph of the Shema remains relevant to us, one which must be said and acted on by us at least twice a day.

[1] Babylonian Talmud Berachot 7a

[2] Deuteronomy 28:1-6 in Kol HaNeshamah

[3] Sifrei Eikev 49

[4] Deuteronomy 26:17