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Avraham HaIvri

Rabbi Ben Herman , , , ,

I am honored to have signed to serve as your rabbi at Mosaic Law Congregation through 2030. Thank you for the trust you have put in me. Looking forward to many more wonderful years together.

Eight years ago I talked about the controversy regarding Sarah being Avram’s sister or wife and where the truth lies. Four years ago the election was called immediately following my sermon. This year I am going to talk about what makes Avram such an important paradigm for our people. Avram had to go off on his own to a new land to which he had never been. He had to leave whatever he knew and go to a different place. Avram is well-known for many things in Judaism: the progenitor of our people, multiple covenants with God and acquiring great standing and wealth. However, Avram is best known as ha-ivri, the Hebrew, one who crossed over from one way of life to another.  This was a process: Avram was not known as ha-ivri until Genesis 14, when a refugee told him about Lot’s abduction.[1] That was the sign that he crossed over from being one of the masses to choosing the way of life of his family.

It takes time to cross from one point of view to another. Things are a process-be patient. I want us all to try to be ivriim and cross over to others’ perspectives. If you are jubilant about the election results, try to put yourself in the shoes of someone who is devastated. If you are upset with the results, try to walk in the shoes of someone who feels their hopes and dreams have been fulfilled. It’s one of the hardest things to do. I’ve had people tell me “I will never understand how someone can vote for ________.” Yet part of crossing over is trying to understand the other’s perspective.

The second lesson to learn is to be resilient and strong. In Lech Lecha, Rabbi Jonathan Sacks said “Go with yourself-your beliefs, your life, your faith.”[2] The lesson here is don’t change the work you’re doing if there’s an outcome you don’t like-rather fight harder for what you believe in. In life it’s often hard to move forward; that’s where our Haftarah comes in. Isaiah says words which we recite every morning. God gives strength to the weary, vigor to the spent.[3] Whatever your position, this election season was exhausting with numerous ads, text messages and phone calls asking for donations or for “your vote.” Now that it’s over it’s time to get back to work and make the world a better place. Never forget that the very root of Judaism, being an ivri, means having the faith and fortitude to stand apart from the crowd and stand up for what you most deeply believe.[4]

The most important lesson is what I am most concerned with-bringing together our congregation with love. We need to remember that we are a Beit Knesset, a house of gathering. As Maimonides wrote, the Beit Knesset was on the highest point in the city. This reminded everyone in the congregation that we were meant to hold high standards and ideals.[5] We need to get on the balcony[6] at the 30,000 foot view rather than getting mired in the muck.

It’s fitting that we are honoring veterans today. Those who are active-duty military are not allowed to engage in any partisan activity even if they want to from the depths of their kishkes. It is similar to what many are looking for in their synagogue: a place where people go as a reprieve from politics. We often avoid these issues because of the increasing challenge of showing basic human decency and respect to one another. However I propose that we must come together and talk face-to-face, rather than engaging in Facebook posts and X-Wars. That is why I have created the Israel listening circles, and we should do the same on domestic issues. We need to talk to those with whom we disagree and genuinely hear and try to understand their point of view. I will be at the back table today at Kiddush and if you choose to join me, I look forward to hearing your perspectives.

In the days and weeks ahead, may we strive to follow the mandate G-d gave to Avram, התהלך לפני והיה תמים, walk with me and have integrity.[7] At times this involves turning from what is familiar and figuratively crossing over to a different path, putting yourself in another’s shoes. It’s not always easy to do but it is important if we want to learn from one another and grow in our connection to one another and our understanding as to what God wants from us.

[1] Genesis 14:13

[2] Jonathan Sacks Covenant and Conversation: Genesis

[3] Isaiah 40:30

[4] Hebrew: Ivri (עִבְרִי) – Survival of the Faithful – Chabad.org

[5] Thank you to Rabbi Nicole Guzik for this insight in her Parshat Noah sermon

[6] Ronald Heifetz, Alexander Grashow and Marty Linsky, Adaptive Leadership

[7] Genesis 17:1

Kohelet and Its Lessons for This Year

Rabbi Ben Herman , , , ,

I was most blessed to learn from Rabbi Benji Siegel, who we had as our Scholar in Residence two years ago for his book on Esther about the lessons he’s learned from writing a book on Kohelet. Kohelet, the name of the speaker in the Book of Ecclesiastes, teaches us about a man’s failed search for meaning in the world. He speaks about everything that he sees ראיתי as he is a travelling observer of humanity. Kohelet teaches about the impermanence of everything, stating הבל הבלים, vapor of vapor. This means that everything is like a breath, being here for a short time before dissipating.

Why was this book chosen to read on Sukkot, the time of our joy? Some argue that this was the last Megillah, scroll from wisdom literature, attached to a holiday, and Sukkot got the short shrift. Personally I find that take unsatisfying and agree with the assertions of others that Ecclesiastes shows that, as much as we try to have joy in life, it is fleeting. We need to appreciate when it is there and recognize when it is not.

Ecclesiastes is filled with contradictions. One example is early on Kohelet teaches that joy is futile[1]; later on he says in a time of good fortune enjoy the good fortune.[2] Above all, the message of Kohelet there is faith in God “in a time of misfortune, reflect: The one no less than the other was God’s doing; consequently, man may find no fault with God.”[3] The book ends with similar sentiment The sum of the matter, when all is said and done: Revere God and observe His commandments! For this applies to all mankind.[4]

Is this Kohelet changing, gaining faith from his life experience? Is it him losing the courage of convictions that nothing matters and everything is fleeting, turning now to God? I’m uncertain but I think there is a lesson to be learned to apply to this year. Kohelet says “What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun.”[5] He can’t understand why people are suffering and what is going on under the sun. Yet Kohelet notes that there is a world above the sun, that there is a God and while he cannot understand why things happen God certainly can.

We are approaching the Hebrew anniversary of October 7th, which we will commemorate on Shemini Atzeret. We think of the terrible tortures that underwent so many of our people this past year-we will remember them again at Yizkor on Thursday. Yet perhaps we can find comfort in knowing that while everything is fleeting, our faith and connection with God can bind us together and make us stronger as people. As Kohelet lets us know, a season is set for everything, a time for every experience under heaven: A time for being born and a time for dying, A time for planting and a time for uprooting the planted; A time for slaying and a time for healing, A time for tearing down and a time for building up; A time for weeping and a time for laughing, A time for wailing and a time for dancing; A time for throwing stones and a time for gathering stones, A time for embracing and a time for shunning embraces; A time for seeking and a time for losing, A time for keeping and a time for discarding; A time for ripping and a time for sewing,
A time for silence and a time for speaking; A time for loving and a time for hating; A time for war and a time for peace.[6] As this has been a year of war, weeping and loss I pray that 5785 will be one of laughing, dancing and planting-and that we will see the seeds that we plant bear fruit. May we be able on this Sukkot, our zman simhateinu, to turn our sadness into joy and our mourning into celebration. Ken Yhi Ratzon, may it be our will to do so.

[1] Ecclesiastes 2:1

[2] Ecclesiastes 7:14

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ecclesiastes 12:14

[5] Ecclesiastes 1:9

[6] Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

Gevurah, Wise Boundaries: Where Are Our Lines Drawn?

Rabbi Ben Herman , , ,

Today we are going to talk about a challenging topic from a Mussar, or ethical, lens: the Middah, character attribute, of Gevurah, setting wise boundaries.[1] Though difficult, this is necessary for our lives, as if we have no boundaries we stand for nothing. Where are our personal boundaries-the lines we refuse to cross? When I consider this, I think of Fiddler on the Roof. Tevye allowed Tzeitel to marry Mottel and Perchick to marry Hodl. When it came time for Vietka and Chana however, he exclaimed, “There is no other hand!” For Tevye, that was his line. Our line might be different and that is fine; what matters is that we know our limits, our boundaries.

When I served a congregation on Long Island, I was asked at a breakfast following morning minyan, “Where is your line? Are you anything goes?” I shared my boundaries with the minyanaires and said, “This is the line I will not cross. It is very different from your line.” My boundary allowed women to be Gabbaim and lead services; this crossed their line, and it was a disagreement between us.

          As a Jewish leader, I want to be a big tent and inclusive. I also recognize that we need to know our core values and principles and, like Tevye, where for us “there is no other hand.” We need to remember the story of the jester.

          There was once a king who ruled his kingdom with wisdom and compassion. As he approached the end of his days, everyone in the kingdom wondered who would be the next ruler. One of his children? An advisor? A general?

          To keep the contenders from fighting over the throne, the king put his instructions in a letter, which was to be opened only on the day of his death. It named the person who would succeed him on the throne.

When that day arrived, the kingdom mourned its wise and caring leader. And then all eyes turned to the king’s letter to see who would rule in his place. With great ceremony, the prime minister opened the letter and read the instruction. Whom had the king chosen? Not one of his children, nor an adviser, nor a general. The king had chosen the jester. The jester would be called king!

          The jester? Everyone in the kingdom thought this must be a joke. How could a fool be king? But such were the king’s instructions. And so the jester was brought before the royal court. Royal retainers removed his jester costume and cloaked him in the robes of the king. They removed his jester hat and crowned him king. And they sat him on the royal throne.

          At first, the situation was awkward-for the new king as well as his kingdom. But over time it turned out to have been a brilliant choice. The jester was every bit as wise, as compassionate, and as insightful as the old king had been. He listened to everyone with care-advisers, generals, even the commoners of the realm. He treated everyone who came before him with respect and with kindness. He used his powers to bring peace and prosperity to his kingdom. To the amazement of all in the royal court, the jester came to be a superb ruler. And everyone in the royal court-indeed, everyone in the kingdom-came to love him.

          There was a mystery surrounding the jester-king, however. Every so often, he would retreat to a distant room in the palace, a room to which only he had the key. For a few hours he would lock himself in that room. And then he would return to the throne and resume his duties. Most members of the royal court assumed he went to the room to think, to meditate, or perhaps to pray. They accepted the mystery as part of their beloved king’s life.

          Once an ambassador came from a far-off land. The ambassador spent many hours with the king. He grew to appreciate the king’s wisdom and his kindness. It was rare, he thought, for a king to listen as carefully as this king listened. It was unusual for a king to seek advice from everyone who appeared before him. It was remarkable for a king to care as deeply and to work as hard for the good of his subjects as this king did.

          When the ambassador noticed that the king occasionally disappeared into his distant room, he wondered, “What does the king do in that locked room? Why does he go there? What is in that room that helps him rule with such wisdom and kindness?” The ambassador couldn’t let go of the mystery. So one day, when the king retreated from his room, the ambassador secretly followed behind. When the king closed the door, the ambassador crouched down and peered through the keyhole. There he took in the king’s great secret.

          In the privacy of his room, the king took off his crown and his royal robes and put on the costume of a jester. Around and around the room he danced the jester’s dance, making funny faces and singing the silly songs of a jester. Then he stood before a great mirror and recited to himself: “Never forget who you are. You may look and sound and act like the king, but you are only the jester. You are only the jester pretending to be the king. Never forget who you are.”

          Now the ambassador understood it all. He understood the source of the king’s deep wisdom. He understood that the king’s kindness and greatness emanated from his humility. And now he knew the secret of the king’s humility. This knowledge made the ambassador love the king even more deeply. He vowed his everlasting loyalty to the king. And he vowed to keep the king’s secret.

          Over the years, the king and the ambassador grew close. One day when they were alone, the ambassador confessed what he had done and what he had seen. “I promise you on your life that I will never reveal your secret,” he declared. “But there is one thing I have never been able to figure out: Of all the people in the royal court whom the old king could have chosen to succeed him, why did he choose you? Why did he choose the jester?”

          The king smiled at his friend and replied, “And who do you think he was before he became king?”[2]

                The jester never forgot who he was, and a number of Jewish organizations did the same. For the first time, I was a Rabbi in Residence at a Ramah camp. It was wonderful to be there with my older daughter and to be part of a grand Israeli concert and celebration-I highly recommend Ramah. At the same time, I could not avoid thinking of the drama at another Ramah camp this past summer. At Ramah New England, the only other Ramah at which I have worked, Rabbi Ed Gelb would not let an anti-Zionist צוות/staff member return to camp after she wrote on Instagram that Jews ought to oppose the genocide in Gaza. He wrote to the Ramah community, “Camp cares deeply about our alumni and values personal connections to members of the Palmer community, who have contributed greatly over the years, and we welcome direct dialogue to find shared understanding…At the same time, we make a sacred promise to our community that we will faithfully adhere to our public educational goals, including that we are a Zionist camp (unapologetically so).”[3] This, for Rabbi Gelb and Camp Ramah of New England, was an incident for which there was no other hand.

          This is not the only example of a Jewish organization setting boundaries. Earlier this year, there was uproar when a Citizens of the World-East Valley Charter School, which rents space from Congregation Adat Ari-El in Los Angeles, taught lessons on the “genocide of Palestine.”[4] Two teachers were removed from the school and the principal was placed on leave[5] and later removed. The charter school’s principal, Hye-Won Gehring, emailed Rabbi Brian Schuldenfrei about the Israeli flags on campus, asking, “I know that this is a time to hold your community close, and perhaps the flags are intended for that – but do you know how long they will be up?” Rabbi Schuldenfrei expressed that he found the email offensive, asserting, “I told the principal that inquiring when our flags were coming down was like asking someone on September 11 to take down their American flags just a few days later. It is painfully insensitive.”

          Later at that school, a teacher wrote the following: “I did a lesson on the genocide in Palestine today with my first graders who give me hell 90% of every day but were really into this convo and series of activities.” The teacher, who used the class’s math period for the lesson, wrote this on Instagram in a private post that the Jewish Telegraph Agency (JTA) reviewed.

The teacher added, “I started by telling them that we weren’t gonna do math at the usual time because sometimes there are big things in the world that need our attention, and we need to interrupt our usual routines to make space to learn and talk about what’s happening. I asked them what they already knew about what’s happening (they knew a lot and had questions) and I drew a little map of the occupied territories of Palestine.” She continued, “then they organically started coming up with ideas for what could happen (my fav was a kid who was like ‘what if they just give the land back to Palestine and find somewhere else to live?’)” The teacher ended the post with a heart emoji.[6]                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       

Yesterday I spoke about the importance of unity, and connecting with the perspectives of others. However, there needs to be a line. Look at what happened at HaMakom in Los Angeles earlier this summer. HaMakom is the merger of two congregations 1 mile apart. They had an extra building which they leased to the Islamic Society of West Valley, (with whom they had a partnership since 2017), to accommodate the mosque’s overflow crowds, with a possible, future sale. The imam had spoken at one of the synagogues, and that synagogue’s rabbi attended an interfaith iftar (which I have done as well). The first day of the lease was during the Muslim holy month of Ramadan. As a gesture to make their tenants feel comfortable, HaMakom’s leadership covered up pictures of the Israeli hostages, and the imam invited a speaker from CAIR, the Community of Arab Islamic Relations, whose national organization has funded Hamas.[7] Comments the speaker made included, “Israel does not have the right to defend itself” and “for 75 years, every single day for the Palestinian people has been October 7.”[8] The lease only lasted that one evening, and the co-presidents of the synagogue resigned.

          It can be painful yet necessary to determine when to set up boundaries that will keep certain people out. Yesterday, I shared with you my vision and aspirational mission statement for Mosaic Law Congregation. It is not a finished project, and I challenge each of us to think about what we want to see Mosaic Law Congregation become-where we can let people in and where we need to set limits. What values are of ultimate importance to us as a congregation and as a Jewish community? Some of us don’t like to think about these things; however we must. As Rabbi Shai Held teaches, “Whatever you push away is going to bounce back at you; it is nature’s law. Whatever you run away from becomes your shadow.”[9]

          I’d like to challenge us in 5785 to not push away tension and conflict, especially as we approach elections in the United States, but rather to think about it honestly and strongly. This is our time to focus in on who we want to be as people and as a community in the coming year and where we draw our boundaries.

[1] Thank you to Rabbi Mark Margolius of the Institute for Jewish Spirituality who taught me Gevurah under this lens.

[2] Ed Feinstein, “The Jester,” in Capturing the Moon (Behrman House, Springfield, NJ, 2008), Pages 34-36

[3]  Why Camp Ramah in New England drew a red line against anti-Zionism among its staff (jewishinsider.com)

[4] LA charter school housed at synagogue tells 1st-graders about ‘genocide of Palestine’ | The Times of Israel

[5] LA charter school ousts teachers who taught 1st graders about ‘genocide of Palestine’ | The Times of Israel

[6] Sick: LA Charter School Teachers Removed After Teaching 1st Graders About ‘Genocide in Palestine’ at School Housed in Synagogue | The Gateway Pundit | by Margaret Flavin

[7] Synagogue members furious with leadership’s gesture to mosque – The Forward

[8] PressReader.com – Digital Newspaper & Magazine Subscriptions

[9] Christina Feldman, Compassion: Listening to the Cries of the World (Berkeley: Rodmell, 2005), pg. 28.  In Judaism is About Love, pg. 219.

Dor Hadash: Striving to Become a Covenantal Community in 5785

Rabbi Ben Herman , , , ,

Have Cantor sing אחינו

The words in which Cantor beautifully led us are traditionally read after the Monday and Thursday weekly Torah readings and translate as follows: “The House of Israel is one family, including those who are in distress or in captivity, and those who wander over sea or over land. God will have compassion for them and will bring them from narrowness to expanse, and from darkness to light, and from oppression to redemption, speedily, now and in our days.”

What does it mean to be a congregational family? What does it mean at a time when our world is rocked, as it was in 5784 with a situation that many of us had never experienced before?

At times it may cause us to feel weak, like Moses at the battle with Amalek. Two chapters after being saved from Pharaoh and the Egyptians, Moses and the Israelites were surprise attacked from behind.[1] In an attack that was eerily like October 7th, their old and their young murdered by the people of Amalek, Israel was suddenly embroiled in an intense battle. [2] Moses’ hands needed to be raised to fight Amalek so as to give the people of Israel hope. Unfortunately, his hands grew heavy, and he kept lowering them. He needed help from Aaron and Hur to keep his hands raised and help Israel be victorious. The Mishnah says: “Did the hands of Moses make war when he raised them or break war when he lowered them? Rather, the Torah comes to teach that as long as the Jewish people turned their eyes upward and subjected their hearts to their Father in Heaven, they prevailed, but if not, they fell.[3]

Many times in 5784 I felt like I imagine my ancestors felt when they were shocked at being ambushed by Amalek: a deer in the headlights with extra anxiety from being thrown for a loop. At those moments when our burden is too heavy, it is easy to feel powerless and tempting to let go of everything. Hopefully we have people like Aaron and Hur to raise up our hands, to encourage us, and to boost us up at the times we feel discouraged and think of throwing in the towel.

  This is the message of our anthem, Aheinu. Each and every one of us are brothers and sisters, standing together and helping one another through our troubles and difficulties, our trials and tribulations. It is imperative, especially when one does not have family close by, that as a congregational family we be each other’s rocks and help hold one another up through crisis. As a Jewish people, we follow the maxim ,כל ישראל ערבים זה בזה we are all responsible for one another.[4] We need leaders like Moses, a shepherd in his youth, to bring us together and look out for us, especially our young and our old.[5] We also must have faith in ourselves and in our mission and that, with God’s help, we will ultimately be successful.

In Aheinu, we are taken out, from “narrowness to expanse, and from darkness to light, and from oppression to redemption.” What does this mean? The best example comes from our tradition. There has never been a greater leader of our people than Moses. As the psalmist says: “וַיֹּ֗אמֶר לְֽהַשְׁמִ֫ידָ֥ם לוּלֵ֡י מֹ֘שֶׁ֤ה בְחִיר֗וֹ עָמַ֣ד בַּפֶּ֣רֶץ לְפָנָ֑יו לְהָשִׁ֥יב חֲ֝מָת֗וֹ מֵהַשְׁחִֽית׃  God would have destroyed Israel, had not Moses, God’s chosen one, confronted God in the breach to avert God’s destructive wrath. Moses stood in the breach for Israel on that day to prevent God’s destructive anger.”[6] Rabbi David Kimhi, known as the Radak, taught that God set a breach, a separation from Israel so that God could wipe them out, and Moses stepped into the breach.[7] He would not let destruction occur on his watch.

I think of modern heroes who stood in the breach, emulating Moses’ example. Lieutenant-Colonel Eran Masas, whosaved some of the revelers from the Nova festival and who collected the bodies of victims to put them all together so that the terrorists wouldn’t be able to abduct them. I also think of Superintendent Moran Teggi, who commanded operations in Ofakim and who saved the lives of so many. I recall Sergeant Yonatan Ohana who fought in Gaza, was wounded by shrapnel from an RPG and continued to fight through his injuries. [8] These are three of our many Israeli heroes who stood in the breach on October 7th. We also cannot forget our everyday heroes, firefighters, police, security guards and first responders, who risk their lives on a daily basis to protect us.

Our vision as a people must be to follow Moses’ example and stand in the breach. When there is chaos and trouble brewing, we hold our heads high, serve as intermediaries and refuse to let go. Being a people means that we need to watch out for one another, that we are obligated to step into the breach for those within our community, just as Moses did when God wanted to destroy Israel, and as Hur and Aaron helped Moses do against Amalek.

We never know when the next attack from an enemy will come. Look at 2 days ago, when Iran launched 180 missiles at Israel, most of which were shot down with help with the United States and with God protecting us. We never know where the next attack will come from and we need to be prepared. As my teacher Rabbi Jordan Bendat-Appell said, “You need to build your ark before the flood comes.” We do not have the luxury of being asleep[9] as Israel was when Amalek struck.

 This feels lofty; how does it tie into each and every one of us? I want you to think about why you are here today. Some of us are here for the first time-or the first time since last Yom Kippur. Others started coming regularly over the course of this year or a previous year. I have encountered people who are afraid to go to synagogue, as well as those who felt it’s time they start going. When our people are vulnerable, we need each other so much. I have heard numerous congregants express the importance of being with their families now more than ever-and I have felt this way as well, both with my personal family and with my Mosaic Law family.

How do we become more of a family where people look out for one another as Aaron and Hur did for Moses? A start is looking at what our mission is as a congregation. I see Mosaic Law’s mission as being a place where people experience the joys of Judaism, through prayer, education, social activities and social action. I yearn for us to move from a transactional community towards a covenantal community, in which our relationships with each other are our primary focus.

I aspire to have Mosaic Law Congregation (MLC) be known as THE PLACE where people go and are immediately welcomed in as they are, able to engage with our many offerings according to their interests and able to give of their skills and talents to strengthen our congregation. Our community must bolster us up in difficult times, like Aaron and Hur raising up Moses’ arms. Over the past two years, I have had 1-on-1 or 1-on-2 conversations with many of you about your interests at MLC. These are opportunities to connect in a strong, deep way. If we have not yet connected, please contact me after Rosh Hashanah, and we will set a time to meet. I want us to be each other’s Hur and Aaron.

An initiative I have begun to connect congregants to one another is Dor Hadash, meaning a new generation and referring to the creation of a new generation of Havurot, small groups which rotate gathering at each other’s homes on a monthly or quarterly basis. I am proud that as a synagogue we have so many successful Havurot, many of which were formed decades ago and whose members are there for each other at births, weddings, funerals and college graduations. What are we doing to create this sense of intimate community today? How are we building a culture of belonging, where we appreciate every person for who they are and what they contribute to our congregational family?

The Havurot are not an end unto themselves but rather a means to help us reach a deeper end. My goals in forming this new generation of Havurot through Dor Hadash are to increase congregational engagement, strengthen MLC’s leadership pipeline and foster opportunities for people to become more deeply engaged with daily Jewish living. A community is only as strong as the integration between its members, and we need to help each other achieve this.

Last winter and spring, Karina and I created a pilot Havurah, hosting Hanukkah and Shabbat dinners, a Purim party and a Lag B’Omer event, each of which had Jewish learning components. Since then, other Havurot have formed based on demographics and interests/affinity, hosting events such as blintz tasting and kayaking. My goal is to get every membership unit who wants to not only join a Havurah but more importantly to feel welcome as they are and find a place of comfort within our congregational family. One month ago, we had our Dor Hadash Kickoff/Sukkah Building workshop, where we taught the laws involved in creating a kosher Sukkah, built a Sukkah and introduced congregants to one another (I learned Cantor’s favorite movie is the mockumentary Waiting for Guffman). We set the goal of having Havurot build their own Sukkot this year. We have a ways to go to reach everyone. Please fill out a short survey that will be sent on Monday so that we can include you in our effort to form new Havurot.

This is one of a number of steps we can take to help us feel community. Another we can do right now. Please turn to someone you do not know and wish them a shana tova u’metuka, a happy, healthy, sweet Jewish New Year.  Please continue to extend greetings to others, especially those you do not know, throughout the High Holy Days.

I hope that Mosaic Law Congregation will be a place where each of us will find community with one another and that we will leave services today and always feeling better about ourselves. Over the holidays, please think about and connect with something that makes you feel that Mosaic Law Congregation is your home. The most important thing we can do is to strengthen where we are in this difficult year we’ve had.  Our holy work will ensure that Mosaic Law Congregation is the best version of itself. In so doing, we will be a beacon of light for both the Sacramento Jewish community and the worldwide Jewish community. 

I know that together we will make a difference in the year 5785 and that we can create the Mosaic Law Congregation we want to have. Through being responsible for one another and strengthening each other, being each other’s Aaron and Hur, our synagogue will thrive. To help us unite together I’d like to read the poem “The Unity” by my grandmother, Lucille Frenkel. While she was speaking about the State of Israel, I am reading Israel as referring to the need for unity and familial ties between the people of Israel and have adapted her poem to fit that desire.

The Unity

The lesson which past ages taught

Was lesson each Jew had to learn,

The unity our People wrought

Was unity formed of concern.

All differences which separate

One from another become dispelled.

All differences evaporate

In our concern for Israel.

The lesson which past ages taught

The world still forces us to learn.

The life of Israel is sought,

Born of all Jewry’s concern.[10]

[1] Pointed out by Erica Brown, Zionist Rabbis High Holy Day Seminar, September 4, 2024.

[2] Exodus 17:8-16

[3] Mishnah Rosh Hashanah 3:8

[4] Babylonian Talmud Shavuot 39b

[5] See Exodus 10:9

[6] Psalms 106:23

[7] Radak on Psalms 106:23 ד”ה בפרץ

[8] 12 heroes of October 7 tell their stories in Knesset event – Israel News – The Jerusalem Post (jpost.com)

[9] Song of Songs 5:2

[10] Lucille Frenkel, A Jewish Adventure (Milwaukee, WI: The Eternity Press, 1983), pg. 213.

Accepting Our Unique Personalities

Rabbi Ben Herman , , , ,

          Often in life the person we are hardest on is ourselves. We think, “If only I could have done better” or “I messed this up again.” Moses is no different from us. He says, “I cannot lead this people, for they are too heavy for me (כי כבד ממני)”[1]-in other words it’s too great a task for me; I can’t lift them up when they get down on themselves, when they selectively remember the delicacies of Egypt without the painstaking labor that they had to go through day in day out under the whip.

          Fortunately for Moses, he has a role model in his father-in-law. What does Yitro say to Moses when he sees him sitting before Israel from day to night? כִּֽי־כָבֵ֤ד מִמְּךָ֙ הַדָּבָ֔ר לֹא־תוּכַ֥ל עֲשֹׂ֖הוּ לְבַדֶּֽךָ-this matter is too heavy for you-you cannot do it alone.[2] The significance is that Yitro recognizes Moses’ limitations. He knows the amount of work Moses put into his job, yet he also knows that Moses not only cannot handle everything alone, but also if he tries, he is likely to get overwhelmed and explode, as we see in Numbers. Moses succeeded when Yitro was by his side-when Yitro left him, in the beginning of Numbers, he became more and more limited by his anger.

          How often in life we fail to recognize our limitations, feeling that on a task we are treading water with no end in sight? How often do we want a lifeline thrown in our direction? We often feel a great weightiness on our shoulders, that all the pressure is on us. It is time to remove those weights from our shoulders, to rid ourselves of the shackles of feeling enslaved and to channel our inner Yitro, recognizing and honoring our limitations. Yes, honoring our limitations. We need to recognize, “This is an area at which I am weak. Is there someone else who can do this task better? Who else can I rely upon?” We cannot let our limitations stop us from finding our place at Mosaic Law Congregation.

         We just finished celebrating a new group of Jews by Choice receiving their first aliyot to the Torah. I know how much anxiety there was behind this-not the Hebrew as much as standing up in front of so many people. Yet rather than giving up and throwing in the towel they persevered. It reminds me of Mickey Zeff every time I see him get an Aliyah or recite Kiddush. He always has a big smile on his face and reads with the same joy that I believe he had the first time he was called up. We each can follow this example.

          Today we observe Michael Boussina Inclusion Shabbat in celebration of Jewish Disabilities Awareness, Acceptance and Inclusion Month. Often those with disabilities or barriers, whether physical or mental, social, or emotional, are defined by what they cannot do. Instead, it is time to define them and celebrate them for all that they can do.

          I began by recognizing Moses’ limitations because I want us to see that like Moses, each of us can remove some of the weight from our shoulders-to focus on areas of passion or strength and be at peace with areas of limitation. It is time to leave behind the inner critic, or the “judge from within” and accept ourselves for who we are-just as we should accept our parents, children, siblings, and members of our congregational family for who they are. What I pray we will do on this Shabbat of inclusion is accept each part of ourselves, even those we wish were different. That will lead us on the path to accepting others, each of whom is made in the image of God.

[1] Numbers 11:14

[2] Exodus 18:18