bible

Pekudei: What Does It Mean?

Rabbi Ben Herman , , , ,

      The meaning of words is very important to me. While I’m not as much of a Hebraist as my teacher, Rabbi Art Green, I value finding out what words precisely mean. That is a question with this week’s Torah portion Pekudei.

          A common origin of the term pakad according to the Brown-Driver-Briggs Hebrew English Dictionary and Lexicon is “to pay attention to, observe with care.”[1] We see this on the first day of Rosh Hashanah when God took heed of Sarah as he had promised (פקד את שרה כאשר אמר) and has her give birth to her son Isaac. Similarly the פקודי המשכן appears to be the accountings of the Tabernacle. In the fifth and final portion of the Tabernacle, we make sure that each of the accoutrements of the Tabernacle are accounted for.

          With that being said in opening 3 different texts I got 3 different translations for Pekudei. In our Etz Hayim Humash it says, “the records of the Tabernacle”[2]; in the Stone Humash it reads “the reckonings of the Tabernacle”[3]; Richard Elliott Friedman translates פקודי as “the accounts of the Tabernacle.”[4] One might say they are all close enough in meaning-we are talking about the entire kit and kaboodle of the chart of accounts of the Tabernacle to show that every detail was noted.

          Rabbi Ovadiah Seforno, a 16th century Italian rabbi, has an interesting comment here. He writes “all the individual components described previously are the ones concerning which the Torah wrote ובשמות תפקדו את כלי משמרת הקדש…ביד איתמר, ‘you shall list by name the objects that are their porterage tasks.’[5] The meaning of the line is that each and every one of these items was important enough to be known by its specific name. In other words, one did not refer to it only by the name of the category of utensils it belonged to, such as “fork,” but one had a name for each fork. This method of naming each item individually contributed to their being of permanent significance.”[6] In other words, don’t underestimate the importance of an item or say that it has been ‘used up’ or ‘outlived its usefulness.’[7]

          This is the lesson we should take from concluding the Book of Exodus with Parshat Pekudei. Rather than merely viewing it and Parshat VaYakhel as carrying out the blueprint that had been previously established in Parshiyot Terumah and Tetzaveh, we should strive to find significance in each of the items listed. For some that might be to examine why some things are listed in one place and not another; for others it might be to see is there something new here-the school of Rabbi Akiva-or is this the same as what came before-the school of Rabbi Ishmael. For others it might be leaving the details, the individual trees, behind and seeing the forest, everything which comprises the mishkan, and how these items parallel those found in Mosaic Law Congregation. For others the focus might be to ask the metaquestion “What does God want from me in this moment?” Wherever we are at, as we enter the eve of the new month of Nisan, it is my hope and prayer that we can imbue whatever we do with meaning and purpose. Ken Yhi Ratzon, may it be our will to do so.

[1] BDB Page 823.

[2] Page 564

[3] Page 531

[4] The Bible with Sources Revealed, Page 185

[5] Numbers 4:32-33

[6] Ovadiah ben Yaakov Sforno, ד”ה אלה פקודי המשכן

[7] See Babylonian Talmud Yoma 71

Strengthening our Relationship with God

Rabbi Ben Herman , , ,

          On Sunday we will get to say “Happy New Year!”  It will be Rosh Hodesh Nisan-the first day of the first month of the Hebrew calendar. We learn in the Talmud that there are 4 new years: the first of Nisan, the new year for festivals; the first of Elul, the new year for tithing animals; the first of Tishrei, the new year for years; and the fifteenth of Shevat, the new year for trees.[1]

          Parshat Pekudei also references this Sunday, the first of Nisan. God spoke to Moses saying, “On the day of the first new moon, on the first of the month, you shall erect the Tabernacle, the Tent of Meeting.”[2] The date that the first House of God is set up is also the new year. The Mishkan represents a new beginning: no longer will Israel be wandering with an intangible God-now God will have a permanent home in the Mishkan, a tangible structure to which we can connect.

          This is a lesson for us as we approach Passover, or Pesach. Throughout the year we might struggle to find a tangible connection with God: on Passover, however, we have so many tangible symbols of God’s presence. For example, the shank bone, זרוע, represents not only the Paschal lamb but also God bringing us out with an outstretched arm, ובזרוע נטויה. Passover, and our special Haftarah HaHodesh, which we will read on Shabbat, come to symbolize that we are at an inflection point, or liminal moment, when we should strive to strengthen our relationship with הקדוש ברוך הוא, with God. That is our task not only for Rosh Hodesh Nisan, but also for the upcoming Passover holiday and the counting of the Omer-that we be centered and grounded as we seek God’s presence in our lives.

[1] Mishnah Rosh Hashanah 1:1

[2] Exodus 40:2

Turning Towards Each Other

Rabbi Ben Herman , , ,

One of the challenges with Parshat Ki Tisa is that it deals with turning away from the proper path rather than turning towards it. After our ancestors made the golden calf, G-d said to Moses “They have been quick to turn aside from the way that I enjoined upon them.”[1] Because they turned away from G-d, G-d turned away from them, proclaiming “I see that this is a stiff-necked people. Now, let Me be, that My anger may blaze forth against them and that I may destroy them…”[2] Moses, however, intervenes, refusing to let G-d destroy Israel. He says words which we repeat every fast day: שוב מחרון אפך והנחם על-הרעה לעמך; “Turn away from Your blazing anger and renounce the plan to punish Your people.”[3] In so doing, Moses makes two very important points: Israel remains G-d’s people as opposed to a “stiff-necked” people independent from G-d, and G-d does not need to turn away from Israel just because they have turned away from Him at this particular moment.

The term “turn away” struck me because of the work done by marriage therapist Dr. John Gottman. Dr. Gottman writes that the married couples he see who turn towards one another at times of conflict stay together 86% of the time, whereas those who turn away from each other stay together only 33% of the time.[4]  In our tradition, G-d and Israel are a couple, bound together by a ברית, or covenant, just as a married couple is bound by a Ketubah. In our portion because Israel has forsaken its end of the bargain, worshiping other gods, G-d is going to follow suit and strike them from the earth-that is until Moses intervenes. He says to G-d, ‘calm down; take a chill pill,’ and he gets G-d to refrain from forsaking the covenant. וינחם ה על-הרעה אשר דבר לעשות לעמו, “G-d forsook the evil that G-d had said he would do to His people.”[5]

There are two reasons to speak about this today. First we are celebrating the milestone 60th anniversary of Ed and Gail Fishkin. This power couple always turns toward each other out of love and affection. Of course like every couple, especially good, old-fashioned New Yorkers, they argue with each other as well as with me at Shabbat Torah Study. However, that’s what makes things entertaining. We should all learn from Gail and Ed to be selfless, generous and of course have an acerbic sense of humor and not be afraid to challenge others.

The second is to celebrate the baby naming of Leona Eli McCracken, daughter of Sara Harbarger and James McCracken. Today Leona was given the Hebrew nameדבורה  סימא, after Sara’s maternal grandmother Elsie and great aunt Dotty. The name Sima means precious, or treasure. Your little 3 month old is truly a treasure who blesses you each and every day with her smile and her cooing. Every time you are stressed, please turn towards this beautiful little face; it should put you at ease. Devorah is the name of our people’s greatest prophetess, who foresaw the defeat of the Canaanites and their general Sisera. In modern Hebrew it means bee. James and Sara, we hope and pray that your little bee will showcase her feistiness and strength, in the example of prophetess Deborah.

Ed and Gail-I know that your love for one another will continue to grow stronger. James and Sara-I know with the new addition of סימא דבורה that your love for one another will blossom in new ways and your family life will flourish.

My prayer for you, Gail and Ed, Sara and James, is that you always turn towards each other and towards your loved ones, recognizing that your family bond and your partnership supersedes any specific issue at hand. Mazal Tov on the celebration of your anniversary and your baby naming. As we celebrate here at Mosaic Law Congregation, let’s sing siman tov u’mazal tov.

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[1] Exodus 32:8

[2] Exodus 32:9-10

[3] Exodus 32:12

[4] https://www.gottman.com/blog/turn-toward-instead-of-away/

[5] Exodus 32:14

Lighting the Ner Tamid

Rabbi Ben Herman , ,

          Parshat Tetzaveh has a couple of strange features. One is that it is the only Torah portion in Exodus through Deuteronomy not to mention Moses’ name. Another is that its beginning, the lighting of the Menorah, towards, but not at the end, of a chapter (Exodus 27:20).

          Rabbi Elliott Cosgrove of Park Avenue Synagogue gave a D’var Torah about this to the Executive Council of the Rabbinical Assembly, for which I am privileged to begin my second year of service. He pointed out that chapter divisions come from the 13th century, from the Archbishop of Canterbury, Stephen Langton. Langton connected the נר תמיד, the eternal light, with the accoutrements of the משכן, the tabernacle, as found in Terumah. In contrast, the rabbis had viewed it as connected to the obligations of the High Priest, so it goes in Tetzaveh.

          As Rabbi Cosgrove argued, the communal obligation of the משכן meets the priestly obligation of lighting the נר תמיד. In other words, the community needs to work together with the leadership, with the two meeting halfway.

          I think about how the rabbi meets with the congregational leadership. In a breakout session, Rabbinical Assembly and United Synagogue CEO Jacob Blumenthal shared that the two things that make for thriving congregations, more than demographics, are a visionary rabbi and a collaborative lay and staff culture. This makes sense: synagogues need to have their Board and staff working in concert with one another and must have a vision of where they’re going. Without these two aspects, there is confusion and tension. A rabbi without a vision is a functionary; a congregation not in harmony with its staff can breed toxicity.

          How does one achieve this? The sermon Rabbi Cosgrove said he is giving this Shabbat is the leadership of Vashti versus that of Esther: when do we need to stand on our principles versus when do we need to compromise/adapt? That is a false dichotomy-at times one certainly needs to do both. With that being said, to adapt Israel Salanter, a rabbi who never takes a stand is no rabbi; a rabbi who refuses to compromise is a fool.

          Our challenge as a congregation is to light the eternal light steadfastly holding to tradition, while recognizing that like the משכן we must move and adapt to new circumstances and new situations. Finding the balance between the two can be tricky; however, we need to put in the work to make it so. We also must remember not to fear כי אהיה עמך, for God is with us in this holy work.

Being Present Rather than Constantly Doing

Rabbi Ben Herman , , , ,

          It is such a pleasure to be here for the Shabbat aroosi (“Shabbat wedding”) for David and Danielle. I have done my share of aufrufs during my rabbinic career, but this is the first Shabbat aroosi -celebration of the couple the Shabbat after their wedding. It was an honor to have yours be the first wedding I have officiated at Mosaic Law Congregation, alongside Cantor Noah Rachels and Rabbi Emeritus Reuven Taff.

I will never forget a conversation I had while doing a rabbinic internship at the Jewish Council on Urban Affairs in Chicago. Two days a week I went into South Chicago to intern at the Inner-City Muslim Action Network: a Jew working with Muslims to do criminal justice reform mostly for inner city African American Christians. I am by nature a person who likes excitement and adventure, wanting to change the world, and I was frustrated that some days were very slow at the office. I spoke with my mentor, Kyle Ismail, who said to me, “Ben you care about doing, but just your being present here means a great deal.”

I was flummoxed by Kyle’s statement: being present? Aren’t we supposed to be doing things to make a difference? After all, we do a lot in Judaism, whether it is preparing for Shabbat, coming together for daily minyan, or designing and participating in programming like our 125th Anniversary Gala on May 18th. Yet I think there is an inherent truth in knowing our personal limits and when we must undertake some tzimtzum, changing our focus from constantly doing things to being present with whatever we are encountering. After all, we are human beings, not human doings. Moses is often thought of as impatient, one who wants to lead through action, yet even he is required to wait 40 days and 40 nights for the stone tablets to be written by the finger of G-d at the end of Parshat Mishpatim.[1]

Also, towards the end of Parshat Mishpatim, our ancestors demonstrated that they were all for doing. They said כל אשר דבר ה נעשה ונשמע-all that G-d has spoken we will do and we will hear.[2] At times they were impatient and overeager to do, such as when we read the making of the golden calf.[3] At times one needs to be present rather than rushing to do-a lesson I’m reminded of all too often.

With Thursday’s horrific events in Israel, I wanted to rush and do something. We had a moving service where we read 2 psalms and did a communal Kaddish during our Mincha/Maariv minyan on Thursday evening. However, I recognized that being present with our congregation was meaningful in and of itself. Never lose sight of the impact of your presence. Also please join us at Beth Shalom on Tuesday for a memorial service and vigil of solidarity.

The question of doing versus being reminds me of a Talmudic debate. Rabbi Tarfon and the Elders were reclining in the loft of the house of Nit’za in Lod, when this question was asked of them: Is study greater or is action greater? Rabbi Tarfon jumped up and says “Action.” How many of us would agree? After all, we are a people who values deeds, subscribing to the maxim that “actions speak louder than words.” Rabbi Akiva, however, disagreed, asserting that study is greater. The other Sages agreed with Rabbi Akiva, albeit with a caveat: study is greater because it leads to action.[4] Studying Torah and Jewish texts and traditions have the potential to shape our mindset in making the best decisions that we can.

David and Danielle have demonstrated that thoroughly to me. I had the privilege of learning with Danielle for the last number of months. Before that, she took numerous Melton courses, and she has always applied her learning to her work and her community. David has grown not only through his Jewish education here in Sacramento but also taking on new roles in our Selichot play. Both David and Danielle will be in our Purim Shpiel next month-a script written by David’s mother Mehrnaz that is sure to delight 😊. This is certainly an active couple: between your demanding jobs, your numerous friends and your shared interests, you are always on the move. We are so happy to have you here today and to celebrate your love for each other.

          David and Danielle, at your wedding I gave you the advice to remain one another’s best friends, always putting your love above any frustration or disagreement at hand. Today I have different advice-always be present for one another when the other needs you. This is easier said than done with your demanding work schedules: Danielle being the manager of social responsibility for the Sacramento Kings and David being a tax lawyer focusing on commercial real estate. It will get even harder when (G-d willing) you have the children you desire.           I often share at weddings that whether you know each other for 9 months (as Karina and I did when we got married), 8.5 years (as you two did) or somewhere in between, something changes when you walk out from under that Huppah.  I can’t put words to it but know it to be true not only from my experience and from seeing the gleam in your eyes at the reception but also from watching the previous 21 couples at whose weddings I’ve officiated. This is a consecrated, holy moment that I want you to revel in and let it linger for a while. We are so happy to have reached this day, and I am going to ask us to recite together the Sheheheyanu for its arrival.

[1] Exodus 24:12 God said to Moses, “Come up to Me on the mountain and wait there, and I will give you the stone tablets with the teachings and commandments which I have inscribed to instruct them.”

[2] Exodus 24:7

[3] Exodus 32

[4] Babylonian Talmud Kiddushin 40b

From Uncertainty to Joy: My Trip to Israel

Rabbi Ben Herman , , ,

          In Parshat VaYishlach, Jacob feared the worst upon going to see Esau. He divided his camp into half, thinking if one half is murdered the other half will survive. However, he got an unexpected, good outcome-his brother hugged and kissed him, and they cried. If we put aside the midrashic take that Esau tried to bite Jacob and Jacob’s neck turned to marble (so Esau cried over his teeth being broken), the situation is a reconciliation. Esau even offered for Jacob to join him and to send men to accompany Jacob and his family.

Like Jacob, I was uncertain and anxious for my trip to Israel for the Rabbinical Assembly convention, as this was my first time in Israel since October 7th. Last time I visited was after a war, Guardian of the Walls in 2021, also on a too short 4-day trip. This time Israel is still at war, I was excited to go but nervous at the same time. I could sense Jacob’ anxiety and trepidation before his encounter with Esau. While I was not surprised by how quiet it was, I was saddened to see firsthand how hard the tourism industry has been hit. Ben Yehuda Street was empty, and the shuk wasn’t booming. It felt too quiet, and I hope tourism will return.

There were so many things during the visit that inspired me, and I will focus on my visit to the Gaza Envelope. For me this was the most important part of the trip. We began at Kibbutz Ruhama, where 70 percent of the kibbutzniks from Kfar Aza are living temporarily until their kibbutz is restored. A kibbutz of just over 800 people suddenly had to absorb 115 families, a microcosm of what Israel as a whole went through in absorbing 800,000 Jews from Arab countries in the late 1940s and early 1950s. The residents of Kibbutz Ruhama have done so with happiness, rolling up their sleeves and getting to work in building temporary housing. We joined them for one morning, making benches for the new, temporary residents. It was a sign that no matter how much destruction occurs, we will rebuild. Even in the midst of fear of terror attacks and missile strikes, this land is home to the residents, most of whom would never think of leaving.

 This was echoed by our visit to Sderot, the closest city to Gaza. I had been to some of the kibbutzim bordering Gaza which are closer to the border, most recently to Kfar Aza, but never to Sderot, where you have 9 seconds to get into a bomb shelter after hearing the siren. Seeing the indoor playground, built by Jewish National Fund as a refuge for kids waiting out the missiles, reminded me of an important lesson: when there is so much uncertainty and PTSD, you need to create a sense of normalcy. We went afterwards to the Sderot police station, which had been taken over by Hamas who put a sniper on top of the building. We learned how Israel destroyed the police station on October 7th in order to take out the terrorists and a brave policeman who had been in synagogue earlier in the day got to the 3rd floor and took out the sniper. We saw the “Eternal Pillars” memorial, made out of 18 pillars, itself symbolic of the Hebrew word חי-life, The inside of the pillars spelled out the words עם ישראל חי-the people of Israel live. What was most significant to me was seeing the mural chosen by the residents of Sderot: A Torah scroll with the letters flying to heaven. It comes from the story of Hananiah ben Teradion, who upon gruesomely being burnt by the Romans while wrapped in a Torah scroll, told his students, “The Hebrew letters are flying upwards”-in other words, they are eternal and can never be taken away from us. One thing which is certain in all the craziness of life is our rootedness to Torah and to our tradition.

The most inspiring part of the trip was visiting the Adi Negev center, the only rehabilitation center in the south of Israel. It has 170 residents, 190 special education students (from toddlers to 21 years of age), an integrated kindergarten and the only rehabilitation hospital in the south of Israel. What Adi Negev teaches is that everyone, no matter what disabilities or special needs they have, is of equal worth. As founder Doron Almog used as his motto, “don’t leave anyone behind.” I learned how Adi Negev gives hands-on training to those with disabilities in gardening, taking care of the animals and innovative therapies (equine, sports and hydro, not to mention a therapeutic petting zoo), to enable people written off by society to exceed far beyond expectations. I saw a walker that grows alongside a child with frequent scans of their exoskeleton and shoe sizes-the walker expands as they grow. Some of these children were told they never could walk and yet they are able to with the walker’s help. I learned that if one is accepted by the government to Adi Negev, it is free for life. The Israeli government takes the most expensive and complicated part of life and makes it the least expensive and least complicated. I learned of the miracle in that Adi Negev, despite having only 7 people with weapons trying to guard 40 acres, got through October 7th untouched, with Hamas Humvees passing by targeting army bases in Ofakim beginning at 7am. At 6:55 am 2 vans passed with 50 Adi Negev workers entered unscathed. As the guide said, he feels they have a different Iron Dome: divine providence looking out for them because of what they do. While I’m not certain that I agree with his theology, especially as a care worker named Tina who left Adi Negev at 7:00 am was not as fortunate, I was impressed by their incredible work and hope to bring a speaker from Adi Negev to Sacramento.

Two last things which were inspiring-first davening (praying) at the egalitarian Kotel at Robinson’s Arch. This is the southern part of the retaining wall from Second Temple times. The air was fresh, and the temperature was cool, but we had the warmth of colleagues together. I have been to Robinson’s Arch numerous times, yet this time I learned that they have up to 40 B’nai Mitzvah a week and have capacity to hold up to 6 at a time. It is an option I highly recommend for those who want to do a B Mitzvah in Israel.

I also want to mention how exhilarating it was to be with colleagues and singing Aheinu (we are all brothers and sisters) interlocking arms. We did this twice: at the hostage tent outside of the Knesset (Israeli parliament) where we did a brief ceremony imploring to bring the hostages home, and at the closing event.  Being with Conservative/Masorti rabbis from all over the world was deeply moving and meaningful, and I don’t take that opportunity for granted.

Like Jacob’s story, this was a trip beginning with uncertainty and ending with joy.  I was so glad to have this opportunity to go to Israel. Next time I hope to go with you when we are able to reschedule our congregational trip to Israel. Am Yisrael Chai.

Focus on The Task at Hand

Rabbi Ben Herman , , ,

I want to welcome everyone from the newly established New Frontier Jewish Youth to Sacramento for your first ever Kinus. So wonderful to join with you for a Shabbat of prayer, learning, good food and of course fun. This experience will be as inspirational for us here at Mosaic Law as it will be for you.

Parshat VaYera begins rather strangely. Abraham, after being circumcised as the ripe old age of 99, has God appear before him at the opening of his tent at the heat of the day. All of a sudden Abraham looked up and behold-there were three men coming towards him. Abraham appears to stop his conversation with God in that moment and runs towards the men.[1] How could Abraham do this? God is fulfilling the Mitzvah of bikkur holim, visiting the sick, and Abraham is running off to greet others?

The Meor Einayim, the original Chernoblyer Rebbe, has a great teaching on this. He tells: this is what really happened to our Father Abraham. He was in the midst of “greeting the Divine (shekhinah),” as we learn from the phrase The Lord appeared to him. But when he saw the guests coming, he asked of God: “As I go out to fulfill the commandment of welcoming these guests, Pass not away, I pray You, from Your servant! May I remain attached to You in that act too, so that this not be an empty performative act (mitzvah)! Be with me so that I may perform this act (mitzvah) in such a state that it too will be a ‘welcoming of the Divine (shekhinah).'” Now Rav’s point that the welcoming of guests is greater than greeting the Divine (shekhinah) is proven by Abraham’s action. Were this not the case, Abraham would hardly have left off a conversation with God to go do something of less certain value, a situation in which he had to ask that there too the Divine (shekhinah) be present. This is especially true since “They appeared to him as wandering nomads”; to him they did not have a divine appearance. The deed (mitzvah) itself was very great even if it were not a “greeting of the Divine (shekhinah).” Abraham was seeking to fulfill this commandment with absolute wholeness. Therefore he said: “Do not pass away, I pray you, from your servant.”[2]

The lesson from Abraham’s example is that even if we are in the midst of something, we need to open our eyes to the situation around us. I want everyone here to turn to someone you do not know, say Good Shabbos, and introduce yourself. As we begin an exciting weekend together, I hope that, no matter what you are preoccupied with, you will take moments to life your eyes and to see how to respond to the moment at hand-whether it is someone in need or a moment you need to take for self-care. Be aware of the others around you and the limited time we have and make the most of it.

[1] Genesis 18:1-3

[2] Meor Einayim Text 4. Translation by Rabbi Adam Gindea.

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.