Another Way: Avoiding Polarization

For better or for worse, I did not give a sermon about the proposed judicial reform in Israel. Instead I said I will not speak about it because I do not live in Israel. When I saw those who normally had the same vantage point, like Danny Gordis, urging American Jews to speak up, I started to realize that this was something different. That, combined with the desire of a number of people for me to address the issues of the day, is why today I’ll be giving my take on the erosion of democratic rights and how we should respond to it from a Jewish perspective.

First a word from this week’s reading. Jacob, who began VaYetze as a refugee from his home with his brother threatening to kill him after the death of their father, finds himself in a different situation. He has always fled before. Learning his brother Esau is on the move with 400 men, Jacob fears for his family’s safety and divides his camp in half. He rationalizes that if Esau kills one of the camps, the other will survive. When Esau approaches, Jacob goes to the front of the line and bows 7 times in submission to Esau. Then, Esau hugs Jacob, falls on his neck and kisses him, and the two of them weep. Eschewing the Midrash on Esau trying to bite Jacob, this is a happy family reunion, where Jacob’s anxiety about his brother does not get born out. It is also a time where Jacob confronts his fears, wrestling with an angel (or with himself) head-on, refusing to let ago until he is blessed. He is given the name Yisrael, one who wrestles or struggles with God.

Back to the lead, which has been buried by now: those of us who fear the erosion of democratic norms should avoid catastrophizing and anxiety. Instead, we must recognize that US democracy is approaching 250 years young and that we should not live in fear. That does not mean that we should sit back and let things happen, however. We know from Dr Martin Luther King that “injustice everywhere is a threat to justice anywhere.” In reworking the words of Pastor Martin Niemoller, not to compare this administration to the Nazis but rather to point out the dangers of not speaking up, I have written the following:

First they came for the asylum seekers, masked men with surprise raids

And I did not speak up because I am an American citizen.

Then they came through the courts, measures like trying to outlaw abortion

And I did not speak up because I’ve already had children.

Then they came for the federal workers

And I did not speak up because I am privately employed.

Then they came for those who are transgender

And I did not speak up because I am cisgender.

Then they came for the department of education

And I did not speak up because my children are grown.

Then they came for the comics

And I did not speak up because I was not cancelled.

Then they came for SNAP

And I did not speak up because I am food secure.

Then they came for what was important to me

And it was too late for me to speak up.

Destruction doesn’t come by one moment-it’s step by step. Each step builds on the other, and by the time it’s there, it’s too late.

I could expand this list, as well as come up with a similar list for Israel. This does not take away from this administration’s support for Israel, and my belief that it is the most pro-Israel administration since Truman-even with people telling me at Kiddush that it’s smoke and mirrors. With that being said, I will not subject myself to a loyalty test where it is all-or-nothing. Just because I am a Zionist who loves Israel does not mean that I am immune to speaking about issues that gravely concern me, done largely under the auspices of Project 2025.

There is much to be concerned about and much to protest. I hope that I get more than a day’s notice the next time Representative Doris Matsui does a press conference outside John Moss Federal Building so that I can proudly stand there alongside many of my clergy colleagues. With that being said, as one who often catastrophizes, I want to keep things within their proper perspective. There is much to protest, yet like I spoke about with the election of Mamdani, the sky is NOT falling. We need to stay strong and fight for the issues we believe in. Some, like my dad, are single issue voters for Israel, and that’s fine. Others, like me, have a more diverse array of issues to which we give our attention, and that’s also fine. What matters in my opinion is not the issues that we support but that we are not afraid to fight for them.

I’ll give you an example from the beginning of my time in Sacramento. I had told Josh Heller that I want to be involved politically, and he connected me with CLUE, Clergy and Laity United for Economic Justice, run at the time by Rabbinical Student Leah Julian, recently selected as the new education director at Congregation Bet Haverim. I was connected with Irv Hershenbaum of United Farm Workers, who invited me to speak at a UFW march in August, one month after I was selected as your rabbi, I naively agreed thinking I could speak about how Judaism supports ethical treatment of workers. I didn’t realize that this was for a difficult piece of legislation that even the supporters had issues with. Nor did I realize that we have growers in our synagogue or that our shul president, Randy Pollack, was lobbying for this legislation to fail. Upon giving him a heads up about this march, Randy didn’t tell me not to do speak. He said to gather information from both sides before making a decision. Randy respected my right to speak at the UFW march even though it epitomized legislation that he was strongly against. This is what makes for a cohesive community-in an age of hyper polarization, the shul is the one place that people of diverse perspectives can come together to pray and socialize for the sole reason that we are Jewish or Jewishly adjacent.

That is the message I want to leave us with. Like Jacob at the beginning of Parshat Vayishlach, we are living in an age of uncharted territory. Our zones are constantly flooded, and we often can’t keep up and feel like we are at the end of our ropes. At such times we cannot succumb to hyperbole, lowering our heads and saying it’s the end of the world. We must fight for the causes for which we believe. When things don’t go the way we want, even when it feels like or becomes apparent that the system is working against us, we cannot afford to take our ball and go home. Pirkei Avot, the Ethics of the Fathers, says, “You don’t have to finish the work but neither are you free to desist from it.” It is better to say, “I’m disappointed, unhappy or afraid yet I choose to lean into the fear anxiety I feel rather than run away from it and to stay in community with those with whom I disagree.” What we should NOT do is enter echo chambers, solely look for confirmation bias for positions with which we already agree, or engage in ad hominem attacks against those with whom we disagree. Each of these is counter to Jewish values. The Talmud states multiple opinions, keeping in community those who vehemently disagree. Furthermore, they studied Torah together, challenging one another to get at a deeper level of the truth. We MUST follow in their example, finding the courage to stay in community with those who are diametrically opposed to us-especially when the going gets tough.

Becoming Eternal

When you turned 1 and I 86

What marvel that we both exist

In same world now

Though we live apart

Know each moment

You are in my heart.

So much I learned

You still must learn

Now we share life

While life’s days turn.

To try to walk

Your present goal

While your very being

Delights my soul.

Sweet precious girl

So dear to me

Now I will love you

Eternally.[1]

          My grandmother wrote this love note to my daughter Ariela two weeks before the end of her life. She refused to use the “d” word-perhaps not what you are thinking by it. The d word is death. Instead, she always said “became eternal.” In my younger years I found this to be strange and counterproductive, as it felt like Elizabeth Kubler-Ross’ first stage of grief, denial of death. Part of this has to do with why we grieve. As Kathryn Schultz writes in her book Lost and Found: A Memoir, “part of what makes grief so seductive is it seems to offer us what life no longer can: an ongoing, emotionally potent connection to the dead. And so it is to feel that once the bleak gift is gone, the person we love will somehow be gone, too.[2] As I’ve grown in my knowledge, I’ve found great wisdom in what Judaism can teach about an eternal connection with our loved ones-that they are never truly gone from us.

          In our liturgy, eternality is reserved for God. Every morning we read the Song of the Sea which asserts ה ימלך לעולם ועד-Gd shall live forever and ever,[3] as well as Ashrei which states ואברכה שמך לעולם ועד, and I will praise Your (God’s) name forever and ever.[4] God’s qualities also have an eternal impact, as we read on Shabbat and holidays כי לעולם חסדו, God’s lovingkindness is forever.[5] As we are in the image of God, the prophets believed that certain qualities will live forever, Isaiah asserting ועמך כלם צדיקים לעולם ירשו ארץ, “your entire nation is righteous, and they will inherit the land forever.”[6]

          The Zohar, a medieval mystical book, teaches that the soul is an eternal and immortal aspect of the self that has a divine origin and, through successive incarnations, undergoes experiences that evolve and purify it. Rabbi Isaac Luria, a 16th century Kabbalist, taught ““The soul returns to this world to complete what was left unfinished, to repair and elevate.” We often think of reincarnation as an idea of eastern religions; it is in Judaism as well. The Zohar speaks of 5 different levels of the soul: Nefesh, Ruach, Neshama, Chaya, and Yechida. Each layer represents a different level of the soul’s development and connection to the divine. It further teaches that “at the time of a man’s death, he is allowed to see his relatives and companions from the other world.”[7]  In a message that resonates with today, Yom Kippur, the day on which we rehearse our own death, we learn, “On the day when a person’s time arrives to depart from the world…three messengers stand over her and take an account of her life and all that she has done in the world and she admits all with her mouth and signs the account with her hand…she should be judged in the next world for all her actions, former and latter, old and new, not one of them is forgotten.”[8]

          This can give us comfort in the idea that part of us will live on. At the same time it might give us the heebie-jeebies: my soul can be reincarnated into someone else? Furthermore, the Zohar teaches that there were 600,000 Israelite souls, all found at                                               Sinai-how does that work when there are close to 16 million Jews, let alone other righteous people of all faiths? Some of us might prefer the words of Gershon Scholem, a professor of Jewish mysticism: “The language of the Zohar must be understood symbolically; its stories and words are vessels for deeper spiritual truths.”[9]

          How might those who prefer the rational understand eternality-or is it simply when you die, that’s it? The medieval Jewish philosopher, Rabbi Levi Ben Gershon, also known as Gersonides, wrote a beautiful teaching about this in his book Milchamot HaShem:

          Man is immortal in so far as he attains the intellectual perfection that is open to him. This means that man becomes immortal only if and to the extent that he acquires knowledge of what he can in principle know e.g. mathematics and natural sciences. This knowledge survives his bodily death and constitutes his immortality.[10]

          Why is this important? The Yizkor prayers we will recite beginותדעהו  ה מה אדם “God, what is humanity that you are mindful of us?” On Yom Kippur, we reflect on what is the meaning of our lives? After all, we are one moment closer to death now than we were before. By holding onto the eternality of people, we recognize that the spirit of our loved ones continue within us. One way in which this occurs is when we remember words that they have said. As in the words of an early 20th century rabbi:

We know that everything that has once been brought into existence cannot be put out of existence. The word I now speak is spoken forever; it can never be recalled. The soul once propelled into the universe cannot be put out of it; it can never be destroyed. What becomes of it after death I know not.”[11]

When something has been created, it cannot be retracted. Similarly, once someone has lived on this earth, their presence endures even after their physical departure. Just as an imprint cannot be erased, neither can a person’s impact in the world. As stated by Rabbi Bernard S. Raskas in his sermon “A Jewish View of Immortality”:

          What is this immortality in which I believe?

          I believe that a person lives on in his or her family…

I believe there is a form of immortality in the institutions we build and the causes we espouse…

I believe in the immortality of friendship and helpfulness…

I believe in the immortality of existence…

I find immortality in people.”[12]

This sentiment is found in contemporary times as well. Take Rachel Goldberg-Polin, whose son Hersh was murdered by Hamas last year. At the Christians United for Israel Annual Summit, Rachel said, “I know love never dies. It is eternal.”[13] Our bonds to one another are immortal-they transcend this physical life. When we remember experiences we shared with those no longer physically present, we feel their spirit shining forth even today.

          As we recite Yizkor, we remember those who came before knowing that their spark continues on inside of us. Rather than bemoan what was, we have pride in what is. We are comforted by the words of Rabbi Jacob Weinstein:

          We, the living, can determine the kind of immortality our beloved shall have…We can act as their personal representatives to the living. Where they lifted the burden or worry from a fellow man, we can give encouragement and help; where they brought cheer and care and loyalty, we can be instead.”[14]  

It is my prayer that the nobility in in our predecessors’ lives and the high ideals they cherished endure in our thoughts and live on in our deeds. May we, carrying on their work, help to redeem God’s promise that life shall prevail.[15] In so doing, we will follow the Torah commandment to choose life, making choices and decisions that emulate the greatest values of our people.

          I will conclude with another of my grandmothers’ poems, from eight years after the passing of her mother.

Eight years after,

Marvel I

How those years brought us closer.

This experience called dying,

Which on surface seemed to sever,

Only brought us fonder, nearer-

Every moment of eight yearspans

Only wove us more together.

Eight years after-

Yearspans after-

Eight years after,

Marvel I

Of the legacy you left me,

Giving me not only moments,

Opportunity of moments,

But the precious worth of moments

And the meaning of life’s moments.

Eight years after-

Eight years after-

Eight years after,

Grateful I

For the heritage you left me-

In your teaching about lifetime,

In the reaching of your lifetime

Never, never, have you left me,

Never-never did you die![16]


[1] Lucille Frenkel, February Love Note about Our Shared Birthday Month

[2] Kathryn Schultz, Lost and Found: A Memoir (New York: Random House, 2022), pg. 66.

[3] Exodus 15:18

[4] Psalms 145:1

[5] Psalms 136:1

[6] Isaiah 60:21

[7] Zohar I, 219a, in Simcha Paull Raphael, Jewish Views of the Afterlife (Northvale, NJ: Aronson, 2000), pg. 290.

[8] Zohar I, 79a, in Raphael, pg. 291.

[9] Gershon Scholem, Zohar: The Book of Splendor (NY: Shocken Books, 1963), pg. 21.

[10] Raphael,  pg. 261.

[11] J. Leonard Levy, Prophetic Voice (Pittsburgh, PA: Rodeph Shalom Congregation, 1970), pg. 86.

[12] Bernard S. Raskas, “A Jewish View of Immortality,” The American Rabbi, 19/1 (August 1986), pg. 57-59.

[13] Rachel Goldberg-Polin, Cufi Summit, 7/2/25

[14] Rabbi Simon Greenberg, A Treasury of Comfort, pg. 225.

[15] Gates of Prayer, pg. 626.

[16] Lucille Frenkel, “The Immortality for My Mother Rose B. Forman” In A Jewish Adventure (Milwaukee, Wi: The Eternity Press, 1983), pg. 125.

Kol Nidre’s Hold on Us

Every year I feel something special when the Torot are taken out of the ark, processed around the congregation, and the music of Kol Nidre is chanted by the Hazzan. It’s almost a hypnotic, trance-like state that sets the tone for the 25 hours that follow. The majestic nature of the music, which we all just felt, is what I want to devote a few minutes to this evening.

Kol Nidre is such a powerful prayer. A unique thing is that the rabbis wanted to get rid of Kol Nidre because it talks about annulling vows which the Bible forbids-as stated: “When you fulfill a vow you must obey it without delay…you must be careful to perform any promise that has crossed your lips.”[1] The people and the hazzanim rebelled, and won, because we are held by the mesmerizing music that is part of this prayer.

What is Kol Nidre’s hold on us? Why do we cling to it each and every year? Rabbi Alan Lew writes in his book This is Real and You are Completely Unprepared that “when we recite Kol Nidre, God calls out to the soul, in a voice the soul recognizes instantly because it is the soul’s own cry…your soul is hearing its name called out, and its name is pain, grief, shame, humiliation, loss, failure death-or at least that is its first name. That is the name the first few notes of the Kol Nidre call out.”[2] That is very jarring by itself. Are we really here to feel pain and humiliation? Is the purpose of saying Ashamnu and Al Heyt to embarrass us? I would argue not-that we need to take the emotion we feel with Kol Nidre and channel it into the future. Rabbi Stanley Rabinowitz has a suggestion as to how to do so-it may seem dated with mentioning a rangefinder camera but its lesson is eternal.

“The mystic hold which Kol Nidre has over us may be the result of our awareness that under the pressures of life, there will be times when our deeds may not be consistent with our principles and when our achievements may not square with the promises inherent in us.

Kol Nidre prompts us to try harder to bring integrity into our decisions. The intent of Kol Nidre may be compared to that of a rangefinder on a camera. Looking through a rangefinder, the photographer will see a split image-a forehead over here and a chin over there. By turning the focus ring, they bring the split image into alignment. Kol Nidre serves as a mechanism of focus…

In the channels of living, each person projects dreams, hopes and aspirations. We make promises; we express resolves. There are promises inherent in our family relationships, in the position we occupy in the marketplace and in the community. But somehow life blurs the promise and fogs the resolve. The promises inherent in us fade away, sometimes because of something we have done, and sometimes because of something done to us. In either case, it is all too easy to reach a point where we capitulate to a sense of failure and say, ‘I’m sorry. I can’t make it. It is not worth it; it can’t be done.” Life is out of focus.

Too much of life is out of focus. There is a distance between what we are and what we could be, a gap between where we are and where we wanted to be. Kol Nidre comes to help us bridge that gap.”[3]

What is most important is how we take Kol Nidre with us into today and the days ahead. In these 25 hours of God’s undivided attention, we have great opportunity. We are told in the Torah to circumcise our hearts.[4] The medieval commentator Rashi says this means that we should have an open and loving heart. Yom Kippur is a day when we are meant to soften our hearts. The beauty of Kol Nidre’s music helps us begin to do so. This will continue tomorrow as we remember our loved ones at Yizkor as well as at Neilah when we get to offer our personal prayer before the open ark. Yom Kippur is a day to look at who we can become in our fullest essence, to say “yes I can” as we move forward. It might even lead to the exultation felt by the High Priest in Temple times who was described as מגמתו כצאת השמש כגבורת תואר, one whose face shown like the strength of the sun.[5]

During these 25 hours, take time to let the music of the prayers wash over you and the power of our being together in community up until the final Shofar blast. Meditate a little, laugh little, cry a little even dance a little if it moves you. Yom Kippur is a powerful day, one at which we are at one with our creator. It is my hope and prayer that we feel this today.


[1] Deuteronomy 23:22

[2] Rabbi Alan Lew, This is Real and You are Completely Unprepared (United States: Little, Brown, 2003), pg. 178.

[3] Rabbi Stanley Rabinowitz, “Kol Nidre: Bridging the Gap of a Split Image”

[4] Deuteronomy 10:16

[5] Yom Kippur Avodah Service

What Is Teshuva?

What is Teshuva? The most common translation is repentance. However, repentance invokes a “gloomy and depressive mood of guilt and sorrow” whereas Teshuvah “implies of a positive sense of prospective growth and accomplishment.” Rabbi Zvi Yehuda uses three different definitions for Teshuva:

“Returning: turning from the wrong way and returning to the right way. It is self-improvement. By improving oneself, by becoming better, one returns to one’s true self-to God. Restoring: self-renewal, spiritual recovery and healing; rejecting the depressive mood of shame and guilt and adapting new, reconstructive ways of moral rehabilitation and self-esteem; by positive changes in one’s attitude and conduct. Responding-responsibility and responsiveness. By the experience of Teshuva, one returns to one’s innermost yearnings for a constructive and meaningful life, to the highest call of duty-to the will of God.”[1]

Rav Kook goes a step beyond this, stating that teshuva is “returning to one’s original status, to the source of love and higher being…in their highest spiritual character, as illuminated by the simple, radiant, divine light.”[2]

Teshuva is an important centerpiece of our religion. The Midrash teaches that “one who does teshuva, it is considered as if he went to Jerusalem, rebuilt the Temple, erected the altar, and offered upon it all the sacrifices of Torah.”[3] This is a metaphor for our taking what is broken in our lives and restoring it to wholeness. Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish takes it one step further, stating “repentance is so great that premeditated sins are accounted for as it they were merits.”[4]

Why is this so great? In his classic work Man’s Search for Meaning, Victor Frankl asserts “every human being has the freedom to change at every minute…a human being is a self-transcending being.”[5] In so doing, we also note, as Art Green writes, that “Our return to Y-H-W-H is in no way separate from our return to ourselves, to the point of inward truth out of which our humanity shines forth. ‘Return to Me and I shall return to you.”[6]

Of course, here we are talking about genuine repentance. Not these blanket apologies “I am sorry if I offended anyone.” The specificity that comes from true heshbon hanefesh, soul searching, is what is being called for here. It is also a constant process. The cynic may ask: “What good does Yom Kippur really accomplish. One goes through the ritual of atonement. One fasts and prays to be forgiven and goes out again in the world and commits the sins afresh!” This very question was once put to a rabbi by his disciple. His master replied, “Go, my son, to the creek to the outskirts of the town and stay there for a full week. Watch what takes place there, and you will then understand the value of repentance.” The disciple carried out the instructions of the master. He finally returned, still troubled by his old question, and baffled even more by the strange procedure that the master had suggested to him. “All I saw were women doing their laundry by the creek,” he reported. “They come with dirty garments, scrub them clean, and at the end of the week they return with more dirty garments and scrub them clean all over again.” “My son,” said the master, “there lies the meaning and value of repentance. Our souls are like those garments scrubbed by the women. In our encounter with the world, our souls become soiled, and they must be scrubbed repeatedly. Teshuva is a kind of scrubbing, to remove the filth which is on our souls. And cleansing must be continuous, because the accumulation of filth is perpetual.”[7]

Rabbi Harold Schulweis reminds us that it is not too late, that we have these remaining days of repentance to make amends.

The last word has not been spoken,

The last sentence has not been written,

The final verdict is not in.

It is never too late

To change my mind,

My direction,

To say no to the past

And yes to the future,

To offer remorse,

To ask and give forgiveness.

It is never too late to alter my world,

Not by magic incantations

Or manipulations of the cards

Or deciphering the stars.

But by opening myself

To curative forces buried within,

To hidden energies,

The powers in my interior self.

In sickness and in dying, it is never too late.

Living, I teach.

Dying, I teach.

How I face pain and fear,

Others observe me, children, adults,

Students of life and death,

Learn from my bearing, my posture,

My philosophy.[8]


[1] Rabbi Zvi Yehuda, Thought of the Week, Cleveland Jewish News, 9-28-90.

[2] Rabbi Chai Levy in We Rise: An Anthology of High Holiday Sermons delivered the year after October 7th, page 249.

[3] Midrash Rabbah Leviticus 7:2

[4] Babylonian Talmud Yoma 86b

[5] Page 127

[6] Rabbi Art Green Say My Face, Speak My Name: A Contemporary Jewish Theology (Northvale, NJ: Aaronson, 1992) pg. 161.

[7] Rabbi Robert Gordis, Reconstructionist High Holiday Supplement 5739, Temple University

[8] Rabbi Harold Schulweis in God’s Mirror: Reflections and Essays (Hoboken, NJ: Ktav, 1990, p. 296-97)

Created Anew

I’ve been reflecting on a mindfulness retreat I went on a number of years ago. One of the participants said to the facilitator “Why are we here? The world is on fire, and we are here meditating at a retreat?! What difference are we making?” I don’t remember Rabbi Margolius’ response, but what I do remember is that we need to center ourselves before we can work on world problems. Rosh Hashanah gives us that opportunity, to ground ourselves so that afterwards we can go out and fight for the causes for which we believe. Today I will be speaking about ways we can create ourselves anew at any moment; tomorrow I will speak about how we use our power, with Israel as an example; on Yom Kippur I will speak about the eternality of the essence of who we are.

Maker of all the living

Every passing moment You create Your world anew:

Withdraw Your gracious love an instant,

And all You’ve made would cease to be…

Instead, every passing moment finds You pouring out Your endless blessing,

And morning stars appear to sing their song of love to You,

The blazing sun comes forth to sing its song of light to You,

And angels voice their sacred chant to You,

And soul intone their psalms of thirst for You.

Once more the grasses carol their longing for You,

And birds chirp their joy in Your presence,

Trees shawled in leaves now sigh their prayer to You,

And springs softly bubble in adoration.

And still the oppressed bare their hearts to You, a Tallit their armor,

As their soul’s pleading splits the heavens.

One ray only of Your light and we are bathed in Your light!

One word only of Your words, and we rise to life renewed.

One hint only of Your eternal presence, and we are drenched in the dew of youth.

O God, You make all things new, ever and ever:

Take us, Your children, and make us new.

Breathe Your living spirit into us,

That we may start life afresh

With childhood’s unbounded promise.[1]

Every day in our liturgy we read המחדש בטובו בכל-יום תמיד מעשה בראשית-God is the one who creates out of God’s goodness the acts of creation every day. We are grateful for opportunities to feel creation wonderous at every moment. 

When we are young, we have wonder and curiosity. Somewhere along the way, we lose it in the doldrums of daily living. Occasionally we get it back-perhaps the excitement of a new job; a wedding or a new child; or after a significant period of time away. Yet more often than not, we struggle to remember that we need to hold onto this childlike sense of wonder. 

Rabbi Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev, an 18th Century Hasidic leader, teaches about the importance of daily creation in his work Kedushat Levi:

We must always try to bring to our consciousness that from moment to moment, the Blessed Creator, in great love and mercy, instills in us new vital force; from moment to moment, the Blessed Creator renews our very being. This is what the rabbis meant when they said: “for each and every breath praise Ya”H”.[2] That is, at each moment the breath seeks to leave us, and the blessed Holy One, in great mercy, watches over us from moment to moment and has compassion for us, and does not let the breath depart.[3] In this manner, when we raise this thought to awareness, from moment to moment we actually are created anew as a new creature. This generates enthusiasm to serve the Blessed Creator, since everything that is new or renewed sparks enthusiasm. And, since we are created anew from moment to moment, we can burn with that same great enthusiasm to serve the blessed Creator.

But, there are those who do not raise up their thoughts to this truth, who actually think (heaven forbid) that the blessed Holy One does not renew them in each and every moment. They think that once the blessed Holy One created them, God no longer makes them new again in each moment. Thus, they do not experience any enthusiasm in serving the blessed Creator, for whatever is unchanging is also uninteresting and lacking in delight. For this reason, they sometimes fall from whatever spiritual degree they may have attained. But, afterward, when they start out again to serve the Creator, they actually do experience a great enthusiasm.

          We always have opportunities to get closer to The Holy One. The 20th century Slonimer Rebbe in his book Netivot Shalom, the paths of peace, teaches us   וכל המאורעות העוברים על איש יהודי, כולם הם קריאה מאת ה׳ יתברך שיתקרב אליו. “Everything that happens to us is a calling from God that we should get closer to God.”[4] In other words, there are no coincidences or things which are happenstance. God is calling out to us to hear God’s voice and bring a spirit of godliness into the world.

          How exactly do we do this? Netivot Shalom continues:

וזה ענין קול השופר שהוא קול ה׳ הקורא בראש השנה לכל איש יהודי לחזור אל מקורו ושרשו. “the sound of the shofar is the voice of God on Rosh Hashanah to return to our source and our root.” God can appear far off or at a distance, but a cry like the sound of the shofar can wake us up to return to our intention. After all, today we say hayom harat olam, today is the birthday of the world or today is pregnant with eternity. What new ideas are you birthing today? What ideas are percolating, in process, or gestating through you, so that they can be further developed in the days ahead?

                 The High Holy Day season is an opportunity to, in the words of Shlomo Carlebach, “return to who you are, return to what you are.”[5] We come home, returning to our original intention of who we want to be in the world. Rabbi Art Green, who I’ve been learning Hasidut from every week, writes, “homecoming is our return to the source within this world, to the great womb out of whom we are ever being born, the one to whom we ever return. Homecoming is the rejoining of matter and spirit, an understanding that this most primal of all separations stands as the cause of our alienation from ourselves, from the deepest roots of our own tradition, and from the very earth that nurtures us.”[6]

         This new beginning comes once a year right now. Tikkuney Zohar 16 reads the word bereshit of “In the beginning God created” as ba tishrey, “Tishrey has come.” It continues, Elohim, the aspect of God’s judgment, creates. Because of all the fear of being judged, people return to God, awakening mercy, and that recreates the world.[7] Rather than fear, I like to think of us as returning to love, finding ways to strengthen our bonds to one another out of shared humanity and love of each other. Any opportunity we have to add to the amount of love in the world enables us to be partners with God in creation.

      Part of that recreation means to recognize how lucky we are to be in this particular moment. Some might feel overwhelmed by past misdeeds. To those who are, you’re in good company: so too were our ancestors, who felt unworthy of receiving the Torah. The upcoming holiday of Yom Kippur is a renegotiated marriage between God and the Jewish people, for the first tablets, made entirely by God and given entirely on Shavuot, were overwhelming for Israel. That is why Israel fled to the golden calf. To transform oneself radically from a slave people to a people under the one God proved too much. The second tablets, on the other hand, were a partnership between Moses, the writer, and God, the transmitter.[8]

       When we feel off-kilter, may we remember that we are in a long-term partnership with the Holy One. We can always make adjustments to create ourselves anew and become the people we want to be. There are ample opportunities to transform our behavior, as illustrated by the following anecdote:

Imagine there is a bank that credits your account every day with $86,400. Every day, even on Saturday and Sunday! However, the bank will not carry your balance over to the next day. Every evening the bank deletes whatever part of the account that you fail to use.

What would you do? You would draw out every dollar!

Each one of us has such a bank but it doesn’t give us money, it gives us TIME. There are 86,400 seconds in a day. Every morning, that is what is credited to your account and every evening, the bank writes off, as lost, whatever you have failed to use for a good purpose. There is no carryover, there are no overdrafts. Each day you are given a new account. Each night that account is closed. If you fail to use the day’s deposits, the loss is yours. There is no going back. There is no drawing against “tomorrow.” You must live in the present on today’s deposit. The message is: invest every second so that you can get the most from it in health, happiness and success. The clock is running.

To realize the value of ONE YEAR, ask a student who failed a class in school.

To realize the value of ONE MONTH, ask a mother who gave birth to a premature baby.

To realize the value of ONE WEEK, ask the editor of a weekly newspaper.

To realize the value of ONE HOUR, ask lovers who are waiting to meet.

To realize the value of ONE MINUTE, ask the person who just missed the train.

To realize the value of ONE SECOND, ask the person who just avoided an accident.

To realize the value of ONE MILLISECOND, ask the person who won a Silver Medal in the Olympic games.

Yesterday is history; Tomorrow is mystery. Today is a gift, that’s why they call it the present.[9]

                God creates time but we humans give it meaning. You not only have meaning but you are also necessary in every moment. As based on a story by Rebbe Nahman of Bratslav, “There is no person who does not have his hour”-every human life has something unique and valuable about it, a contribution to be offered that can be fulfilled by no other. Each messenger brings back a unique portrait of the king (of God) one that only he or she can paint. To take seriously our faith that each person is God’s image is to treat every person with a spiritual dignity and caring that would transform all of our lives.[10]

In the daily Amidah, we offer 3 times a day: בָּרֵךְ עָלֵֽינוּ יְהֹוָה אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ אֶת־הַשָּׁנָה הַזֹּאת God bless for us this year. We recite this every single day, including the last day of the year. Every day is a different day. Life is constantly changing so that the prayer takes on greater meaning and nuance. Even at the end of the year, when we are really focused on the New Year ahead, we can still hope for the wringing out of blessing in that year’s waning moments. We cannot fully appreciate the year until it has concluded, in no small part because it is ever changing, and we add to the year’s meaning in our perspective. In addition, the preposition על means that the blessing is placed “over” us or “about” us. It is up to us each day to discover the blessing/s, find it, reach out for it, grasp it, and integrate it into our lives, so that life’s changes change us (לטובה) ולברכה, for goodness and for blessing.

 Take a moment to close your eyes and take a deep breath. Reflect on the joy of the here and now. Each moment is a new one with new opportunities to bring God’s presence into the world. Hold onto the words of the psalmist: זה היום עשה ה נגילה ונשמחה בו-this is the day God made, rejoice in it.[11] The dawn of a new year is a special moment. Take the time you need over this holiday season to reconnect with aspects of yourself that have become dormant-perhaps taking up a long-lost hobby or a passion you’ve always wanted to try. Call those you have not spoken to and catch up. Look at the habits and parts of your life no longer serving you and work to make the necessary changes. May doing each of us help us feel the precious present-ness of each moment in each day.

John O’Donahue

To Come Home to Yourself

May all that is unforgiven in you be released.

May your fears yield their deepest tranquilities.

May all that is unlived in you blossom into a future graced with love.


[1] Central Conference of American Rabbis, On the Doorposts of Your House: Prayers and Ceremonies for the Jewish Home (NY: CCAR Press, 1994) Poem 21, pg. 286.

[2] Psalms 150:6

[3] From Genesis Rabbah 14:10

[4] נתיבות שלום ב׳, קכ״ה

[5] Shlomo Carlebach “Return Again”

[6] Rabbi Art Green Say My Face, Speak My Name: A Contemporary Jewish Theology (Northvale, NJ: Aaronson, 1992) pgs. 159-60.

[7] Meor Eynaim Likkutim

[8] Rabbi Art Green, Say My Face, pgs. 172-73.

[9] Marc Levy, If Only It Were True

[10] Rabbi Art Green, Say My Face, Speak My Name, pg. 81.

[11] Psalms 118:24

The Entire Commandment

         I want to begin by saying thank you to Cantorial Soloist Caitlyn Shannon for an incredible job this summer. I am sad to miss your final Shabbat before your return to Cantorial School, but I look forward to hearing you on the High Holy Days.

            In mindfulness language, we often talk about “being in the moment or “being fully present.” That’s a very hard thing to do. Our lives are busy and if an appointment is cancelled we quickly think about what we can fill that hour up with rather than taking time for self-care. In rushing from place to place we forget that the blank space in our lives, just like the blank spaces in the Torah, is essential. If the Torah was only letters without space, no one could read it. Similarly, if our lives are all doing without being, we lose sense of who we are and of what is truly most important to us.

        There’s an interesting line towards the beginning of this week’s Torah portion. It reads

כׇּל־הַמִּצְוָ֗ה אֲשֶׁ֨ר אָנֹכִ֧י מְצַוְּךָ֛ הַיּ֖וֹם תִּשְׁמְר֣וּן לַעֲשׂ֑וֹת לְמַ֨עַן תִּֽחְי֜וּן וּרְבִיתֶ֗ם וּבָאתֶם֙ וִֽירִשְׁתֶּ֣ם אֶת־הָאָ֔רֶץ אֲשֶׁר־נִשְׁבַּ֥ע יְהֹוָ֖ה לַאֲבֹתֵיכֶֽם׃

You shall faithfully observe the entire commandment that I enjoin upon you today, that you may thrive and increase and be able to possess the land that God promised on oath to your fathers.[1]

          What is the entire commandment and why only one commandment? The commentator Ovadiah Sforno points out the juxtaposition between this verse, beginning Chapter 8 of Deuteronomy, and what came before about not bringing idols into your house. He says just as one must be sure to follow that commandment, so must one be certain to follow all of them.[2]  Commentator Ephraim of Luntschitz has the opposite view in his work Kli Yakar, asserting that “the Torah uses the singular mitzvah to indicate that the observance of even one mitzvah as it should be will result in “so you may live”…because “one mitzvah leads to another mitzvah.”[3] The interpretation I prefer is in Midrash Tanhuma, which teaches that “once you have begun a commandment, finish it, for it is the person who finishes it that will be identified as having done it.[4] In other words, whatever commandment you are doing, give your full, undivided attention to it until it is carried out. Don’t be distracted by other thoughts, feelings or things to do, being pulled in a million different directions.

          Too often in life we start something but do not finish it. At other times, we take on a task which is too great for us-like doing all 613 commandments that one can-and we burn out, throw up our hands and give it all up. I believe it is purposeful that the singular word מצוה is used here, indicating that we should only focus on one thing at a time.

          This Shabbat we have the pleasure of welcoming in our new members to Mosaic Law Congregation. Each of you came here through a different route. Some of you chose Judaism-others are new to the area and found our community warm and welcoming. We are blessed to have each and every one of you as part of our congregational family. I have one question for each of you: what skills and passions would you like to contribute to Mosaic Law Congregation in the year 5786? We want to be sure that MLC is a spiritual home for you in the fullest sense-not that it will meet all of your needs, as no congregation can do that, but rather that it will provide comfort, warmth and a sense of belonging. To those of you who checked off every box on the membership application, I advise you to choose 1 or 2 areas in which to get involved. Focusing on the entire commandment requires that we don’t stretch ourselves in too many directions and burn out. As we approach 5786, let us focus on the one thing in life that is truly most important to us at any given moment. In so, may our lives have a sense of calm, clarity and purpose.

          I would like all of our new members to come up to the Bimah, say your names and, if you want, one sentence introducing yourself to the congregation. After that I’ll ask for you to join me in a prayer for our new members.


[1] Deuteronomy 8:1

[2] Sforno on Deuteronomy 8:1 ד”ה כל המצוה

[3] Kli Yakar on Deuteronomy 8:1 ד”ה כל המצוה אשר אנכי מצוך

[4] Midrash Tanhuma 6. In Rashi on Deut. 8:1 ד”ה כל המצוה

Unending Love

We are loved, loved, loved

By unending love

An unending love 2x[1]

We are in such a divided world. Often our beliefs come from an echo chamber derived from our news sources. People are in a rush to judge each other. Take the starvation in Gaza. Are you caving into Hamas’ propaganda of kids with genetic diseases posing as emaciated or are you turning a blind eye to the suffering of others, lacking human dignity? Are you holding Israel to an unreasonable standard in feeding the enemy which will deter it from winning the war or are you not showing humanity to innocent children and civilians, preventing a “human disaster” in the words of Ari Shavit? Ezra Klein wrote a poignant piece entitled “Why American Jews No Longer Understand Each Other,”[2] and I encourage those who have not read it to do so on Tisha B’Av.

So much knowledge today requires nuance for which we have no patience. When we rush to judge others, or when we are afraid to speak out, let us remember the Talmudic text that led to the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem.[3]

There was a nameless man-call him Ploni or Joe Shmo. He was throwing a big party and invited his friend Kamtza. Unfortunately the invitation went to his enemy, Bar Kamtza. Upon seeing Bar Kamtza at his party, Ploni was outraged and said in front of everyone “You must leave!” Bar Kamtza was embarrassed and said “I know we are enemies, but please give me the dignity of staying. I’ll pay for my meal.” Ploni retorted, “Get out of here!” Bar Kamtza said, “Please, I’ll pay for half of the party.” Ploni asserted, “Get out!” “Fine,” Bar Kamtza said, “I’ll pay for the entire thing.” “Security!” yelled Ploni, and he personally escorted Bar Kamtza out.

The aspect not discussed in the story is that the important rabbis present said nothing. They did not try to intervene, nor did they protest Bar Kamtza being publicly humiliated, a crime which according to the Talmud is worse than murder.[4] They let it happen by staying silent. As revenge on those sages, Bar Kamtza said to Caesar, “Those Jews will not sacrifice your choice offerings. Give something and see what will happen.” Caesar sent a sacrifice as a peace offering, which Bar Kamtza nicked in the upper lip, making it unfit to be offered for Israel. The rabbis had a dilemma: what do they do? Rabbi Zecharia ben Avkolos said you can’t offer a treyf animal, for then the people will bring them. Then the people wanted to kill bar Kamtza for bringing a treyf animal and so he wouldn’t report back to the Romans, and Zecharia ben Avkolos said no. Once again the rabbis did nothing. Caesar was furious that the Jews did not offer his sacrifice and waged war against them. Rabbi Yohanan, who lived over 100 years later, said “The Romans destroyed our Temple, burned our Sanctuary, and exiled us from our land because of the excessive humility of Rabbi Zecharia ben Avkolos.”

Tisha B’Av is about remembering the division that led to our displacement and to the humiliation of our people. I often laugh when I hear those who say that all Jews were the same until the Haskalah (Jewish enlightenment) came about and made so many secular. Imagine being alive during the late Second Temple period. I imagine the Pharisees, or proto-rabbis, saying “We have it right-we appeal to the common people through deriving new meaning from Torah into which they can relate.” The Sadducees, on the other hand, would respond, “We have it right-everything is written verbatim in the Torah. Animal sacrifice forever! We are the priestly elites-you are lowly commoners who must listen to us.” The Essenes would say, “We don’t mix with any of you. We are off in the desert, in Qumram, deriving new mystical teachings and staying far away from anyone who would corrupt us.” Then come groups known as the K’naim, or zealots, the most famous being the Sicarii, known for their types of daggers. They would say, “We long for the days before Pompey took us over! We need greater Judea/Israel, and we can achieve it by fighting the Romans! Not only that, but we will burn other Jews’ storehouses of grain, forcing them to join us in fighting against our enemies so that they will have food!” Each group thought they were right and the others were wrong. This baseless hatred led to our people being divided and eventually overrun by the Romans.

When there is hatred and sinat hinam, which caused the destruction of the Second Temple, the response must be to increase our ahavat hinam, unending, intentional love of one another. This requires having respect for others regardless of their opinions and seeking to understand the other out of curiosity, rather than seeking to refute him/her. This is so hard yet necessary to do.

We are on the eve of the saddest day on the Jewish calendar, the ninth of Av, in which we remember not only the destruction of the Temples in Jerusalem but also our people being exiled from most of the countries in Europe. I’ll never forget observing Tisha B’Av at the Kotel when I was on Alexander Muss High School in Israel. It was emotionally powerful in a way I cannot put into words. Tonight, in addition to traditional kinot, or dirges, we will read pieces from survivors of Be’eri, Nahal Oz and Kfar Aza on October 7, 2023.

This Tisha B’Av let’s try to have increased love and rahmanut for our fellow Jews as well as for all the people in the world. To counter the hatred that existed between our ancestors and between Ploni and Bar Kamtza, the misunderstandings between the Pharisees, Sadducees, Essenes and Sicarii, we need to increase our love for one another. Are we really so self-righteous that we believe that only we have the right answers? Tisha B’Av is the perfect time to reflect on where we are at in terms of our beliefs and how we will move forward in the 7 weeks of consolation that will lead us to Rosh Hashanah.

 I will conclude with a poem by Rabbi Rami Shapiro, An Unending Love,[5] followed by Cantorial Soloist Caitlyn Shannon singing again the chorus of Shir Yaakov’s song We Are Loved based on the poem.

We are loved by an unending love.

We are embraced by the arms that find us

Even when we are hidden from ourselves.

We are touched by the fingers that soothe us

Even when we are too proud for soothing.

We are counseled by the voices that guide us

Even when we are too embittered to hear.

We are loved by an unending love.

Embraced, touched, soothed and counseled,

ours are the arms, the fingers, the voices;

ours are the hands, the eyes, the smiles.

We are loved by an unending love.

We are loved, loved, loved

By unending love

An unending love 2x


[1] We Are Loved | Shir Yaakov

[2] https://www.nytimes.com/2025/07/20/opinion/antisemitism-american-jews-israel-mamdani.html

[3] Babylonian Talmud Gittin 55b. My version is paraphrased.

[4] Words of Rav Nahman bar Yitzhak Bava Metzia 58b

[5] Rami Shapiro “An Unending Love,” in תפילות זכרון-Memorial Prayers and Special Readings For the House of Mourning, Page 74.

Gratitude to Cantor Noah Rachels

Cantor Rachels-I can’t believe we are finally here at your final Shabbat. You have been a light and an inspiration to so many in our congregation and a partner in the fullest and truest sense to me. You have demonstrated that you are a mentsch from your first day when you got down on your hands and knees to soak up water from our flood rather than running in the opposite direction. Your work ethic is second to none as is your musical talent. You have brought in so many new Torah readers through your patience, dedication and persistence. You started Yom Aharei, a group for those who are grieving, and with your calm, compassionate presence have been a comfort to so many. Your quickness on your feet through humor has enlivened numerous conversations. You ware naturally comfortable talking to people of all ages and at all stages of life, which is rare to find. It has been a treat working with you these past two years.

In our first conversation before your visit to Mosaic Law we were going through the service. You said strongly, “I don’t believe you need to have 2 repetitions of the Amidah.” I admired your ability to strongly express your opinion. You also spoke with me about facing the congregation rather than the ark. When you came to MLC you seemed to want to please others, listening carefully without offering your opinion. I want you to know that people want to hear from you and they will respect your opinion even when they disagree with you. You have so many years of knowledge, wisdom and cantorial voice will shine forth in every situation you are in-not only when you sing.

Today’s Parshat Korach features beauty after tragedy. After the failed rebellion of Korach, Datan, Aviram and the priests, Gd tells Moses to put the staffs of all of the leaders forward and “the staff of the candidate who I choose shall sprout.”[1] Sure enough, Aaron’s staff “brought forth sprouts, produced blossoms and bore almonds.”[2]  The medieval commentator Ibn Ezra asserts, “the words shekadim, almonds, has midrashically been related to the word shoked-watch-in I watch over my word to perform it.[3] By having almonds blossom forth, Gd demonstrated that Gd is always watching over the Israelites and their leader, Aaron.

Cantor Rachels-Gd is watching over you, knowing how special you are as a sweet singer of Israel. Your voice blew us away from your senior cantorial recital and from Day 1, and your kindness, gentleness and thoughtfulness are qualities we will always hold near and dear to our hearts. You will bring your light and joy to Beth Emeth Bais Yehuda in Toronto and as your mentor Jackie Mendelson said at your ordination, “They’re going to love you.” Thank you for all the joy you, Amy and Maya have brought to our congregation in the short but meaningful time you’ve been here. 

As a gift I have a special item. Cantor has been a lifelong Mets fan and while this is great, he hasn’t had an American League team to root for. I will remedy that with this special Toronto Blue Jays Noah Rachels bobblehead engraved with the words Cantorial All-Star. May it bring your new hometown team much luck and good fortune in the years ahead-and may you get on the mound, either to sing the Canadian National Anthem or to throw out the first pitch. Tzetchem l’shalom-may you go in peace, knowing that you always have a home here at Mosaic Law Congregation. 

[1] Numbers 17:20

[2] Numbers 18:23

[3] Ibn Ezra on Numbers 18:23 ד”ה ויגמל שקדים

Noah-I can’t believe we are finally here at your final Shabbat. You have been a light and an inspiration to so many in our congregation and a partner in the fullest and truest sense to me. You have demonstrated that you are a mentsch from your first day when you got down on your hands and knees to soak up water from our flood rather than running in the opposite direction. Your work ethic is second to none as is your musical talent. You have brought in so many new Torah readers through your patience, dedication and persistence. You started Yom Aharei, a group for those who are grieving, and with your calm, compassionate presence have been a comfort to so many. Your quickness on your feet through humor has enlivened numerous conversations. You ware naturally comfortable talking to people of all ages and at all stages of life, which is rare to find. It has been a treat working with you these past two years.

In our first conversation before your visit to Mosaic Law we were going through the service. You said strongly, “I don’t believe you need to have 2 repetitions of the Amidah.” I admired your ability to strongly express your opinion. You also spoke with me about facing the congregation rather than the ark. When you came to MLC you seemed to want to please others, listening carefully without offering your opinion. I want you to know that people want to hear from you and they will respect your opinion even when they disagree with you. You have so many years of knowledge and wisdom which shine forth in every situation you are in.

Today’s Parshat Korach features beauty after tragedy. After the failed rebellion of Korach, Datan, Aviram and the priests, Gd tells Moses to put the staffs of all of the leaders forward and “the staff of the candidate who I choose shall sprout.”[1] Sure enough, Aaron’s staff “brought forth sprouts, produced blossoms and bore almonds.”[2]  The medieval commentator Ibn Ezra asserts, “the words shekadim, almonds, has midrashically been related to the word shoked-watch-in I watch over my word to perform it.[3] By having almonds blossom forth, Gd demonstrated that Gd is always watching over the Israelites and their leader, Aaron.

Cantor Rachels-Gd is watching over you, knowing how special you are as a sweet singer of Israel. Your voice blew us away from your senior cantorial recital and from Day 1, and your kindness, gentleness and thoughtfulness are qualities we will always hold near and dear to our hearts. You will bring your light and joy to Beth Emeth Bais Yehuda in Toronto and as your mentor Jackie Mendelson said at your ordination, “They’re going to love you.” Thank you for all the joy you, Amy and Maya have brought to our congregation in the short but meaningful time you’ve been here. 

As a gift I have a special item. Noah has been a lifelong Mets fan and while this is great, he hasn’t had an American League team to root for. I will remedy that with this special Toronto Blue Jays Noah Rachels bobblehead engraved with the words Cantorial All-Star. May it bring your new hometown team much luck and good fortune in the years ahead-and may you get on the mound, either to sing the Canadian National Anthem or to throw out the first pitch. Tzetchem l’shalom-may you go in peace, knowing that you always have a home here at Mosaic Law Congregation. 

[1] Numbers 17:20

[2] Numbers 18:23

[3] Ibn Ezra on Numbers 18:23 ד”ה ויגמל שקדים

The Wayward Woman (Sotah)

          In Parshat Naso, there is a woman who is accused of an illicit sexual affair. The women needs to drink bitter water with God’s name broken up into it. If her thigh doesn’t sag and her belly doesn’t distend she is innocent; if not she is guilty (Numbers 5:11). All that needed to be done is for the husband to have a רוח קנאה, a jealous spirit, for this procedure to occur.

          What is sad is that a husband can be jealous and accuse his wife of an illicit relationship but not vice versa. A woman who has evidence that her husband has cheated has no recourse, whereas a man is able to force his wife to perform this ritual. The rabbis were uncomfortable with this practice.  In Mishnah Sotah the rabbis made it much less likely for this to occur, saying that the woman needed to be warned about her behavior by two witnesses who then see her in seclusion with another man (Sotah 1:1). Later on in Mishnah Sotah it states that Rabbi Yohanan ben Zakkai discontinued the ritual of the sotah because the number of men who were adulterers proliferated (Sotah 9:9). It is evidence of shinui haitim, the changing nature of the times. What made sense in one time period did not in another.

          Still the Sotah leaves us feeling very uncomfortable. Three twentieth century commentators, Rabbis Herbert Chanan Brichto, Emanuel Rackman and Yaakov Kamenetsky, said the sotah was used specifically to prove women innocent. Kamenetsky said that if a man suspected his wife, “the doubt will never leave him unless God, so to speak, Himself promises that she is actually pure.”[1] This is further supported by Jacob Milgrom, who asserts that by bringing this to a Kohen, it is taken out of the people’s hands and placed in God’s hands.[2]

          Why focus so much on this Sotah ritual? In truth the entire body of rabbinic literature cites only one example of its implementation: Shemayah and Avtalyon making the freed slave woman Karkemith.[3] Even there there is disagreement as to whether she drank the real waters or a placebo. Regardless of whether that happened, by reading about the Sotah we can learn how our ancestors thought and how that changed over time. I would no longer read it as being about “the wayward women” but rather about an ancient, magical ritual that was used to show that God proclaims innocence and a clean slate.

          As we read the passage on the Sotah as well as the Nazir in my Torah study, who according to the rabbis should be criticized for making an excessive vow, let us recognize that not every biblical passage needs to correspond to our lives today; however that does not mean that there are not lessons that we can derive from them. We have moved from a world of the Sotah to a world of #MeToo, where women’s testimonies are believed and valued. Let us recognize that the Sotah is a vestige of our past that teaches us how society used to function and let us praise God that our society has moved on from there.


[1] In Yosef Lindell Was the Sotah Meant to be Innocent? | The Lehrhaus

[2] Ibid

[3] Mishnah Eduyot 5:6

Pride Shabbat

          I welcome each of our Christian friends from SARFA, the Sacramento Area Rainbow Faith Alliance, who joined us at the 4th annual Pride Shabbat at Mosaic Law Congregation. I look forward to seeing you at the interfaith service before Pride on Sunday June 15.

In Parshat Naso, we read about all of our leaders bringing gifts into the Tabernacle.[1] Each leader was mentioned individually and was appreciated by what they gave to our people. This was regardless of asking questions about sexual orientation. Everyone was valued for what s/he or they individually contributed.

Pride is here again yet it is a scary time for many. We have an administration that wants to curb the right of those who are LGBTQAI+. One of our Keshet leaders is moving out of the country in part because they and their partner feel safer there. We saw the protest over a trans female winning high jump and triple jump and our state might have its federal funding taken away. Now is the time we must come together in pride to insist on equal rights for the entire LGBTQAI+ community. Our portion reflects that the Tabernacle is a home for all of Israel, a מקדש or consecrated place for everyone to connect with G-d. Just as our ancestors were all welcome to pray and give fits at the Tabernacle to form our own unique, personal relationship with the Holy One, so too are all welcome to pray at Mosaic Law Congregation. Judaism is welcoming to people of every orientation. Look at the thousands who marched in Jerusalem at the pride parade yesterday. Israel is the only country in the Middle East in which this can occur.

          A synagogue is not only a place to play. The Hebrew for synagogue is בית כנסת, house of assembly. It is a place where people gather together for a higher purpose. Rashbam comments that a sanctuary is “a place set aside for meeting.”[2] There are those who do not know that Mosaic Law is a safe space for all to come, and it is important to do a public event like this Pride Shabbat to make everyone aware that Mosaic Law is a welcoming place. Mosaic Law is in a sense a sanctuary, a safe space for everyone to come as they are without fear of attack or reprisal. That is what a synagogue, or house of assembly, is all about.

This evening I affirm that Mosaic Lw is a מקדש, a consecrated place and safe space for all to worship. May we continue to value everyone for who they are and for all that they contribute to our spiritual home. Let us have pride is who we are and for all that we contribute.


[1] Numbers 7

[2] Rashbam on Exodus 25:8