israel

October 8

Rabbi Ben Herman , ,

Many of us saw the movie October 8 last month at the center about the pro-Palestinian radicalization on college campuses. I learned about it firsthand having served on the Hillel Board of Directors the past 2 years and from speaking with students. The lack of safety that Jewish students on campus have felt, amplified since the October 7th massacre, has become clear. Interestingly the film was entitled October 8, for the day after October 7 when the celebration and justification for the most Jews murdered on any day since the Holocaust began. Many have called themselves “October 8 Jews” that October 7 woke them up to the realities of antisemitism. Brett Stephens coined the term, as he wrote one month after the horrific attack “On Oct. 8, Jews woke up to discover who our friends are not…What can Oct. 8 Jews do? We can stop being embarrassed, equivocal or defensive about Zionism, which is, after all, one of the world’s most successful movements of national liberation. We can call out anti-Zionism for what it is: a rebranded version of antisemitism, based on the same set of libels and conspiracy theories. We can exit the institutions that have disserved us: ‘Defund the academy’ is a much better slogan than ‘Defund the police.’”[1] One year after that horrific attack, Stephens wrote about October 8 Jews, “Those who woke up a day after our greatest tragedy since the Holocaust to see how little empathy there was for us in many of the spaces and communities and institutions we thought we comfortably inhabited. It was an awakening that often came with a deeper set of realizations.”[2]

Interestingly the film had a different name, H8TE, with an 8 serving in the position of the “A.” It was another sign that the emphasis is on those who hate us having shown their true colors after October 7th while also indicating what should be our response the day after. On October 8, when there were still Hamas terrorists in communities in Israel, there was a rally, or should I say celebration, in Times Square. In addition, on that date Harvard said, “We hold the Israeli regime entirely responsible” and did not mention Hamas. Shai Davidai, on Columbia closing its gates for the first time since the Vietnam War, “I wasn’t seeing  a debate; I was seeing hatred.”Students had to think if it was sake to walk outside and risked their magen david being taken off of them. This coordinated campaign to accuse Israel of genocide was seen in so many ways: the encampments, each with the same tents and supplies; the blocking of students being able to go to their classroom and their being castigated as “baby killers”; pictures of hostages being torn down and Israeli flags being burned.

Despite this powerful story, Wendy Sachs had a a lot of trouble getting the film into theatres. Eventually Eventually she got it into AMC theatres for one week, although AMC did not publicize it. Wendy Sachs, the filmmaker, said “I sent it to NBC News Studios, I sent it to CNN, I sent it around, and everyone said no…I couldn’t get an agent or any representation, which is pretty extraordinary given all the incredible people involved in the film…ironically all of the agents are Jewish. Everyone saw rough cuts of the film and said ‘I like you. It’s a great film. Good for you for making this. But sorry I can’t touch this…there is a radioactivity in Hollywood to this kind of film.’”[3]

This year we have seen many Jewish celebrities, from John Stewart to Mandy Patinkin, publicly castigate Israel. We saw actors Emma Stone, Mark Ruffalo and Ayo Edebiri publicly boycott Israel. It appears to be the “in” thing to do. With all the world’s problems, the desire is to boycott Israel. Hearing Mandy Patinkin, who was my mom’s hero, say “How could it be done to your ancestors and you turn around and do it to someone else?”[4] has become bulletin board material for those who accuse Israel of genocide. Debra Messing and Michael Rapaport have tried to bring attention to the importance of bringing the hostages home but unfortunately there are more on the other side. As Douglas Murray pointed out, the “Bring Back Our Girls” from Boko Haram was far more successful than the bring back the hostages campaign has been. As Ritchie Torres points out, “social media enables the virus of antisemitism to spread to an extent that it never could before.”. Only 20 percent of people under 25 support Israel. On Tik Tok ratio of anti-Israel to pro-Israel is 1 to 54. Antisemitic incidents at near historic levels according to ADl-154 percent increase in 1 year.

What I want to focus on is, another year after October 7, what is the impact of this event on our lives today? How do we live our lives in a post October 7 world? For some of us it means that we need to be active, proud Jews. The list of people exploring conversion to Judaism as well as those who wanted to belong to or attend synagogue grew immensely after October 7. People want a place where they feel they are not alone but with other members of the tribe.

Similar feelings can emerge was we prepare to say Yizkor-that we are vulnerable and alone so we come here to synagogue to join with our community. We also have the dedication of memorial plaques, ensuring that our beloveds have permanent remembrances and signs of their presence here on earth.

 I want us to think about our loved ones who experienced antisemitism. How did they show their Jewish pride in the face of adversities? What did they do demonstrate their Judaism? How can we follow in there example as proud, October 8 Jews? It will not change the hatred and those who want to destroy us but it will change us to be mindful of how Judaism impacts our lives. As we remember them, may we concurrently have pride in who we are and may it impact us on a daily basis.

[1] Stephens, Bret (2023-11-07). “For America’s Jews, Every Day Must Be Oct. 8”. New York Times

[2] Stephens, Bret (2024-10-04). “The Year American Jews Woke Up”. New York Times

[3] Dan Senor, “Why Did Hollywood Ghost a Movie on Antisemitism?” Call Me Back, March 12, 2025.

[4] Mandy Patinkin, New York Times interview, July 25, 2025.

The Use of Power

Rabbi Ben Herman , , , , , ,

I’m going to speak about Israel in part of a larger context. If it makes you uncomfortable, I’m going to ask you to please stay in the room. I am going to devote this coming Shabbat morning after services to an opportunity to listen to those who want to respond to my remarks-though there is on Kiddush lunch on that date.

The High Holy Days are the time more than any other when we think about why we are here and what is the value of our life. The words of our daily liturgy, מה אנחנו מה חיינו, “Who are we? What is our life?” take on greater relevance during this time of the year. It is also a time when we reflect on the power and agency that we do have. What do we have control over and what should we let go of?

How we use the power that we do have is a key lesson, both for us as individuals and for us as a people. Throughout so much of our history, Jews have been powerless. Our people were in exile, at the mercy of every despotic ruler that we encountered. Now, thanks to Israel and to its relationship with the United States, Jews have power to an extent that our ancestors couldn’t dream of. As the psalmist says, – את שיבת ציון היינו  כחולמים the redemption of Zion was as if we were dreaming.”[1]

This past spring, we saw the power that Israel has. The leader of Hezbollah, Hassan Nasrallah, may his memory be obliterated, tried to evade Israel by going low-tech with pagers. Little did he know that the pagers he bought from the Taiwanese company Gold Apollo were manufactured by the Israeli shell company in Hungary BAC Consulting and were laced with the explosive PETN (pentaerythritol tetranitrate). As we saw, Israel sent a page causing Hezbollah leadership to hold up their pagers which detonated after a few seconds. A few days later, at the funeral of 4 Hezbollah members, Israel detonated Hezbollah’s walkie-talkies. With Hezbollah’s top leadership indisposed, Israel was able to invade Lebanon and launch more attacks, eventually killing Nasrallah.

Let us also not forget Israel bombing Iranian nuclear sites on June 12 in Operation Rising Lion. Israel quickly rendered inoperable many of Iran’s missile launchers and its missiles. Around the same time, there was Operation Red Wedding, which took out Iranian senior commanders. Without commanders, Iran was impotent and did not fire any missiles at Israel for 18 hours.[2] The icing on the cake was when the United States joined 9 days later, dropping MOP (massive ordinance penetrator) bunker busting bombs in Operation Midnight Hammer. How did this happen? Israeli agents in Iran had visited every workshop and factory that were later attacked, enabling Israel to target every aspect of the industry that supported the manufacturing the missiles.[3] The success of such a plan was far from an accident; rather it was the culmination of years of work by the Mossad to target Iran’s nuclear program.[4]

Could our ancestors in exile imagine a Jewish country with this type of power?! Could they even conceive that a Jewish country would be a regional superpower, stealthily using its incredible intelligence to make a plan over years which did not leak?! I doubt Yehudah Halevi, who lived during the Golden Age of Spain under both Muslim and Christian rule; Don Isaac Abravanel, who was a courtier to Ferdinand and Isabella and eventually exiled from Spain and Portugal; or even a Maimonides, who before becoming physician to the Egyptian sultan most certainly had to flee Spain from the Almohads, could have fathomed this.  Yet you do not need me to preach about Israel’s power. What we need to consider is what does Israel do with the power that it has and concurrently what do we do with the power that we have.

Former Israeli Prime Minister Levi Eshkol famously referred to Israel as “Shimshon der nebecher,” Samson the weakling. Israel is so strong like Samson, the superpower of the Middle East. Yet Israel also can feel like a nebecher, completely powerless to the task at hand. Israel has endured trauma, especially in the aftermath of October 7th. One merely needs to look at footage from October 7th or the video of a gaunt Evyatar David digging his own grave. While Israel has had much success assassinating Hamas’ top leadership and destroying much of the terrorist infrastructure in Gaza, there remain feelings of ineptitude, failure and lack of moral clarity, with hostages not returned and so much destruction. My question, which only Israelis can answer, is what should Israel do with the power it has?

Israel can use its power as it did in March through May to not allow any food into Gaza and to attempt to take control of the food distribution away from Hamas, who steals food from the aid trucks. Many of us believed when Israel refused food into Gaza that this might be worth it if it led to the end of the war and the return of hostages. Looking back, some of us continue to hold those opinions of the Israeli government. Others are re-thinking after seeing hunger among Gazans and hearing of people walking miles to the food distribution sites, some of whom were shot upon approaching. Every hungry child, no matter where he or she lives, is a human tragedy. As Proverbs teaches us, “If your enemy is hungry, give him food to eat; if she is thirsty, give her water to drink.”[5] This is not to dismiss the PR war going on. We saw the New York Times fell into Hamas’ trap by featuring a starving child who was actually dying from cystic fibrosis. Yet there remain weekly protests in Israel to get a deal to return the hostages and end the war.

I want to take this lesson and apply it not only to Israel but to our lives here in the United States. Many of us are traumatized, having seen pictures and videos of dead Israelis and gaunt hostages or having relatives going up for the 5th time to serve in the IDF, some of whom are not sure why they’re going. Many of us are scared by the rise of antisemitism on college campuses, as the film October 8 demonstrated, which I will speak about on Shemini Atzeret. There is much to be afraid of. What we need to remember is that we are vulnerable, we are human but we are not powerless. We have agency over our actions. As Victor Frankl z”l taught, “Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space lies the freedom and power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and freedom.”[6]

 In terms of how Judaism teaches us how to use our power, we don’t need to look far in our tradition. The Ethics of the Fathers, in Hebrew Pirkei Avot, teaches איזהו גבור הכובש את יצרו “Who is mighty? One who conquers his or her inclination.”[7] In his commentary on Pirkei Avot, Rabbi Dr. Joshua Kulp writes, “This one statement may sum up 2000 years of Jewish experience. The Jewish ideal of strength and might is not the same as the Greek ideal, which is that of the mighty warrior and champion athlete. A person of great physical strength who performs amazing deeds is not necessarily mighty. The most difficult thing to conquer is not others or even great armies, but our own inclination to do wrong things. One who has control over this inclination is truly mighty. This is why for thousands of years Jews did not look to soldiers as their heroes, but to rabbis and other thinkers. Strength in Judaism is one of character and not one of might. After all the strongest person in the world is no stronger than a weak gorilla or bear. It is only through our ability to curb our appetites and control our instincts that human beings can differ themselves from animals.”[8]

A story: when Adam was encountering and naming the animals on the first day of creation he was trying to figure out which was the strongest. The lion said, “I’m the strongest. I’m the king of the jungle!” The tiger said, “I’m the strongest. I’m the king of the forest!” The whale said, “I’m the strongest. I’m the king of the ocean!” The chimpanzee said, “I’m the strongest.” All of the other animals paused and looked at the chimp. Then they started laughing. The chimp said again, “I’m the strongest.” Finally a worm asked the chimp, “What makes you so strong?” The chimp replied, “All of you act on your instincts. I think before I act.” Suddenly all the animals agreed that the chimpanzee was the strongest. So it is with us all the more so.

As we enter the week of repentance between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, I’d like each of us to think about what we have power over in our lives and how we intend to use that power. How are we going to channel and control it? Similarly, how are we going to let go of those things over which we have no power? As stated eloquently in a video by Rabbi Judith Plaskow:

Rosh Hashanah asks us to negotiate an enormous and productive tension between our smallness and our power, surrender and agency; between what we can control and what we can’t. During the whole High Holiday period, we’re called on to examine our lives and think about who we have been and who we want to be, to do teshuvah, to turn toward our best selves. And, at the same time, the images of God the King and Judge are telling us that ultimately, we’re not in charge. We can’t decide who shall live and who shall die. All we can do—and it’s not nothing—is to alter the evilness of the decree…

Rosh Hashanah asks us to accept what we can’t change and have the courage to change what we can.[9] The Great Aleinu (in Musaf) is for me the supreme moment of one side of this tension. It is the moment when I try to give up my white upper middle-class illusion of control and align myself with, and surrender to, what is….[10]

In 5786, may each of us utilize our power to the best of our ability to effect meaningful changes yet may we recognize the limits of our power and not try to do too much. The same thing is true with Israel. Many things are in Israel’s control, others are not. The power to continue to attack Hamas remains; the power to rescue the hostages without a deal appears to remain beyond Israel’s reach. May Israel, like us, succeed in using its power wisely, and may the hostages be speedily returned home.

[1] Psalms 126:1

[2] https://www.timesofisrael.com/israel-was-facing-destruction-at-the-hands-of-iran-this-is-how-close-it-came-and-how-it-saved-itself.

[3] https://www.ynetnews.com/article/hjckad6eeg

[4] How extensive are Israel’s intelligence operations inside Iran?

[5] Proverbs 25:21

[6] Attributed to Victor Frankl

[7] Pirkei Avot 5:1

[8] Joshua Kulp Pirkei Avot 4:1 with English Explanation of Mishnah

[9] The Serenity Prayer

[10] Judith Plaskow, “Submitting to The Great Aleinu,” https://youtu.be/6jw228chClE?si=1TkAgkrvDYvDlREO

Unending Love

Rabbi Ben Herman , ,

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.

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.

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

One Year Since October 7th: Mourning and Sharing Stories of Heroism

Rabbi Ben Herman ,

This Shemini Atzeret marks one of the saddest days in our people’s history. The 22nd of Tishrei, last year on October 7th, marks the murder of 1200 and 251 taken into captivity. On October 7th we saw a screen with each of their names and lit 12 candles-one for each month of the year. We also gathered with song and heartfelt poetry.

As we enter one year since October 7th, we are marking this in a couple different ways. Today we have an addition into our Yizkor prayer for those murdered on October 7th and in the ensuing war. Tonight, we will have one hakafah somber without dance, asking God to save us and bestow success upon Israel during this precarious time.

I mentioned three of the heroes from October 7th in my Rosh Hashanah remarks. Today I want to focus on three heroines, from the book One Day in October: Forty Heroes, Forty Stories.[1] I’ll begin with Shaylee Atary and her husband Yahav moved to Kfar Aza three and a half years ago. Both were filmmakers. They had a nice quiet life until October 7th when they woke up hearing the red alert, which was followed by terrorists at the door of her house, she followed the tacit agreement she had with her husband Yahav, “you hold the door (to the shelter)-I’ve got the baby.” He fought off a terrorist. She fortunately turned left with her 1-month-old daughter Shaya, away from the terrorists. They eventually saw Shaylee and shot at her, barefoot and in her pajamas. They chanted “ta’al, ta’al, come!” No one would open up with her out of fear for their lives, so she ran through the bushes and finally hid in a garden shed. After a few hours baby Shaya began crying so Shaylee had to run again and was whispered to come into a house, where she stayed 27 hours, and which saved her life. Then the army came, and she left the shelter.

I cannot imagine running barefoot with a 1-month-old baby and being shot at by cheering crowds of terrorists. Yet we remember Yahav, who sacrificed his life to save Shaylee and Shani’s.

Moran Tedgy’s story[2] also rings true to me. Moran was a police officer. When she heard sirens at 6:30 in the morning, she went down to the safe room, where she lasted a grand total of 30 minutes. Her partner Stav said to her, “What is this, what are you doing?” and she calmly replied, “I’m going out, there are terrorists.” Despite Stav’s please for Moran not to go out, she went out to warn people of the terrorists. These included Ultra-Orthodox residents of her town, Ofakim, and radioing in reports from her vantage point. Moran got caught in a barrage of fire and started running to take cover. She was told there were terrorists holding a home hostage and managed to neutralize them. Moran worked 48 hours straight and endless shifts for 2 weeks after October 7th. Her tasks included informing three families of the loss of their loved ones and searching for those who were missing. Her takeaway is “it was a hard time, very hard. Another funeral, another family, another missing friend that we first thought was taken captive, but then we’d find out that they had been murdered. And we have to repress a lot just to cope. I’m still repressing so much, so much. I know that to have survived is like the greatest gift. And I try to hold onto that. To wake up, God gave me my life as a gift. And I know, I’m sure, without a doubt, that my father was there with me that day. He watched over me as I fought there in Ofakim.[3]

Last but not least I want to share the story of Or Ben Yehuda,[4] commander of the Caracal Battalion, a co-ed infantry battalion based on the border with Egypt. Or received a call from the Sna’i Outpost being told of incoming missiles from Gaza. She set off in a military vehicle with her all-women medical team and arrived at the Sufa outpost. As she was attending to the wounded, Or noticed thousands coming from Gaza towards them. She thought that was the end of her life, yet she showed bravery in mustering her group of fighters to respond. She killed a terrorist at point blank range and her battalion was so fierce that many of the Hamas fighters fled. She managed to retrieve a tank Hamas had taken and to stop the terrorists from reaching the next outpost. Her remarks as to the fatalities of the war were “these people, who are now making their final journey-they were extraordinary forces. They fought until their last drop of blood. What happened to them is exactly what I thought would happen to me when I was there on the embankment. And to see those strong, noble fighters lifeless is something I will never forget. I never want to forget it. Those dead are basically a reflection of all our fighters. There is no end to their dedication, no end to what they have granted this country, to the people who live here. They sacrificed what was dearest to them so that this country can continue to exist, so that we can continue to live here. And the feeling I had there, next to those holy soldiers who gave their lives, the love I felt in my heart-I’ll never forget it as long as I live.[5]

Heroes take many different forms. Moran, Or and Shaylee were heroes when they least expected it. They experienced trauma but they have come out the other end. Their stories, as well as those of so many others, need their stories told. We honor them as we say Yizkor, remembering both the lives lost and the lives that were saved.

[1] Yair Agmon and Oriya Mevorach, One Day in October: Forty Heroes, Forty Stories (New Milford, CT: Koren Publishers, 2024).

[2] “I’m Going Out, there are Terrorists” in One Day in October: Forty Heroes, Forty Stories, pgs. 313-325

[3] Ibid, pgs. 323-24

[4] “A Woman in Command” In One Day in October: Forty Heroes, Forty Stories, pgs. 251-268

[5] Ibid, pgs. 267-68.

Responding to October 7th with Strength and Hope

Rabbi Ben Herman , ,

G’mar Hatima Tova. It’s so wonderful to see every one of you on the holiest day of the year. Parents reunited with children, grandparents with grandchildren, uncles and aunts with nephews and nieces, cousins with one another. I look forward to getting to deepening our connection over the course of 5785. This is a special year for Mosaic Law Congregation, as we celebrate our 125th Anniversary.

You are invited to our family’s Sukkot Open House on Sunday October 20 between 2 and 4 pm. Hope to see you there. Also, MLC goes Down Under in the Spring of 2026 to explore Jewish Australia. On Sunday November 10 at noon there is a kickoff event where you’ll hear all about it. To RSVP, please contact Linda Margolin-Lesser or myself.

The following poem is from my Grandmother, Lucille Frenkel. I’ve been thinking of it as I reflect on October 7th.

A Little Do I Know of Life: Not Much-Lucille Frenkel

A Little Do I Know of Life: Not Much

I know enough to value living’s rush

Of seasons as they hurry through my days.

I know enough to greet my days with praise,

For days are granted one as Heaven’s presents.

I understand to clasp the slightest essence

Of all which makes life joyous and worthwhile.

I know the preciousness of each child’s smile.

I know to cherish close family and friends,

My love and help, to others I extend.

I know what sorrow hides in hearts and tears.

I realize one must constant grow through years

So that a life bloom wisdom gained through age.

I know the struggle which Mankind must wage

To keep the best from Past, add to the Present.

I know people work hard to make life pleasant.

I see how many live with firm resolve;

Sighting world’s problems as, also, theirs to solve.

Their efforts join their prayer Man’s sufferings cease,

As they tireless search ways to advance world peace.

A little do I know of life-not much.

I know that life responds to gentle touch

And happiness, that goal so many yearn,

Real happiness exists for each to earn.

Though little do I know, I do know this;

Through sacrifice and caring comes real bliss.

So little do I know, can I discern-

But I know that what I don’t know I can learn![1]

This poem teaches me that the longer I live, the more I realize how little I know. There are so many things this year for which we have no answer. Why do some live and others die? Why are good people taken before their time? How much of history is fated and how much do we make through our actions?

          Wherever one is in the world, this is a time of serious trauma. One need not look further than October 7th when more Jews were murdered at once than any time since the Holocaust-as well as the resulting war in its second year and the fear that it will become a regional war. In the United States we have seen anti-Israel protestors take over college campuses with tent encampments-including in our back yard one at Sacramento State. One of the signs there said, “I’m the one that’s Semitic: You’re from ——- (expletive) Poland!” In New York we saw masked anti-Israel protestors boarding a subway train and saying “Raise your hand if you’re a Zionist. This is your chance to get out.” Complete silence, then the man said, “Okay, no Zionists, we’re good!”[2] By seeing the silence that followed-not only from Jews on the train but more importantly from non-Jews-and we see the precariousness of the situation in which we find ourselves.

          Earlier this year, Franklin Foer wrote a piece entitled The Golden Age of American Jews is Ending, asserting, “Anti-Semitism is a mental habit, deeply embedded in Christian and Muslim thinking, stretching back at least as far as the accusation that the Jews murdered the son of God. It’s a tendency to fixate on Jews, to place them at the center of the narrative, overstating their role in society and describing them as the root cause of any unwanted phenomena-a centrality that seems strange, given the Jews constitute about 0.2 percent of the global population.”[3] While there is truth in this, I disagree with Foer’s premise in the article. The golden age of American Jews is not ending and will not end as long as we fight for who we are and what we believe. As a teacher and an author who is invested in Jewish self-perception, Ben Freeman asserts, “We have not survived by accident. If we don’t fight back, if we don’t defend ourselves through Jewish pride against Jew-hate, against assimilation, then, simply, we cease to exist.”[4] 

          Today we are going to commemorate Yizkor for the deaths of our loved ones in the past year. We will be adding prayers for those murdered on October 7th in both our Yizkor service and our Eileh Ezkerah (These I remember) martyrology service. Elie Wiesel teaches us, “Remembering is a noble and necessary act. The call of memory, the call to memory, reaches us from the very dawn of history. No commandment figures so frequently, so insistently, in the Bible. It is incumbent upon us to remember the good we have received, and the evil we have suffered.”[5]

Some of us recall bad experiences with loved ones, and that is understandable. I hope we will hold onto the good qualities of those who came before us, remembering them and striving to live in accordance with these qualities. We will ensure that they live on inside us and that we will tell their stories. We will not only keep our memories of them alive but also their visions, their hopes and their dreams. At the same time, we must attend to the living: our friends, family and loved ones who are alive, making sure their needs are provided for. This goes for our brothers and sisters in Israel as well. We mourn the dead while concurrently not losing sight of the 101 remaining hostages in captivity. All steps must be taken towards their rescue. The ultimate value of Judaism is פקוח נפש, the saving of a life. These hostages (or in my preferred language “heroes”)[6], including the two, Omer Wenkert and Keith Siegel, for whom we have chairs in this Sanctuary, may be beyond our reach halfway around the world but they are deeply embedded within our hearts.[RH1] [RH2] 

          The way we show this is through responding to both October 7th and to the increased antisemitism in the world by strengthening ourselves.  Dara Horn, in a webinar to rabbis, implored us to “rise to this moment; be bolder than you have ever been.” She argued that we cannot be “those who erase ourselves in order to make others feel comfortable.” [7] At a session in KOH on Jewish Pride and Unity I shared an observation from Roz Rothstein, “There are two types of Jews: those who are taking down their mezuzot and those who are putting up larger mezuzot.”[8] It can be hard to be the Jew affixing the larger mezuzah, proudly wearing his/her magen david or kippah when we know that much of the world hates us. As Elie Wiesel writes, it takes courage to live and lead as Jews, no matter our circumstance.[9] We have learned from our past that hiding from the world does not make us safe. We must know who we are and for what we stand. As Ben Freeman asserts, “We must be proud every day. We must celebrate our Jewishness, in whatever ways we see fit, every day. And we must honor our specificity, and we should know that we deserve better than how we are treated by the wider world every single day.”[RH3] [10]

Let us also not forget, especially when it feels that everyone is out to get us, that we have more allies than we think. Look at April 13, when the Islamic Republic of Iran launched over 300 missiles and a combined effort of the United States, Britain and Jordan helped Israel intercept them, or on October 1 when Iran launched 180 missiles, most of which were intercepted. I feel God’s presence watching over the nation of Israel at times like these, protecting us. Seeing those incredible acts brings to mind the famous quotation from David Ben-Gurion: “A Jew who doesn’t believe in miracles isn’t a realist.” Look also at Goldie Ghamari, an Iranian Canadian MP in Ottawa who pointed out how many Iranians wave the pre-revolution lion, sword and sun flag to show solidarity with Israel and the need to topple the current Iranian regime. She pointed out the 2600-year shared history between Jews and Persians and asserted, “Despite the regime’s attempts to brainwash Iranians, they are resisting, knowing their historical culture of understanding.”[11]

We must hold onto the statement at the end of V’hi Sheamda, rooted in our Passover haggadot: that in every generation, God saved us from our enemies.  This requires having faith in our future rather than constantly living in a state of fear and anxiety. We cannot afford to despair and to give up; as and to give up; as Elie Wiesel taught us “we have three choices when faced with despair: resignation, delusion, or the most difficult and beautiful facing it head on as Jews.”[12] Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav said, “The main point is not to fear at all.” That of course is impossible-fear and anxiety are natural parts of life. Yet we cannot let them control us.

How do we find hope in the world and how do we become a source of help for others? For this I turn to Rabbi Naomi Levy, my spiritual guru, who wrote, “Hope comes in the form of helping hands. It comes when someone offers the words you need to hear just at the moment when you need to hear them most. Hope arrives in all sorts of disguises. When hope comes, offer it a chair.”[13]

 We are here today on Yom Kippur, right before Yizkor, to both remember those of our past and hope for a better future. Yet hope requires work, effort and striving. It is not merely a concept of something we “wish to have” but rather something we need to actively work towards creating. Sir Rabbi Jonathan Sacks has a poignant lesson as to how hope works: “One of the most important distinctions I have learned in the course of reflection on Jewish history is the difference between optimism and hope. Optimism is the belief that things will get better. Hope is the belief that, together, we can make things better. Optimism is a passive virtue, hope an active one. It takes no courage to be an optimist, but it takes a great deal of courage to have hope. Knowing what we do of our past, no Jew can be an optimist. But Jews have never – despite a history of sometimes awesome suffering – given up hope”[14]

Rabbi Sacks is detailing the lesson imbued in Israel’s anthem, HaTikvah, which translates as “the hope.”Despite our differences, our vulnerabilities, our conflicts, we are united in our peoplehood. We must hold onto that hope, that we never lose sight of it despite the fact that at times things look so bleak and hopeless. We know little about life, especially when it comes to our future, yet we can have hope that through working together הסיפור שלנו יהיה סוף טוב, our story will have a good ending.[15] We began the High Holy Days by declaring our unity as a family with Aheinu: let’s end them with the eternal message of hope.

          Please join Cantor Rachels in HaTikvah.

[1] Lucille Frenkel, “A Little Do I Know of Life: Not Much.”

[2] Anti-Israel man on NYC subway tells Zionists to get off train: video (nypost.com)

[3] Franklin Safran Foer, “The Golden Age of American Jews is Ending,” In The Atlantic, April 2024.

[4] Ben Freeman, Reclaiming Our History, pgs. 71-72.

[5] Elie Wiesel “Hope, Despair and Memory,” Nobel Lecture, December 11, 1986

[6] Thank you, MLC President Randy Pollack,

[7] Dara Horn September 16, 2024

[8] Roz Rothstein, StandWithUs Rabbis United Conference, February 26, 2024

[9] Elie Wiesel 1973 Talk “Against Despair,” in Rabbi Menachem Creditor We are bigger than this moment: Jewish holidays are Jewish defiance | Menachem Creditor | The Blogs (timesofisrael.com)

[10] Ben Freeman, Reclaiming Our History, page 241.

[11] Israel’s unlikely allies | National Post

[12] In We are bigger than this moment: Jewish holidays are Jewish defiance | Menachem Creditor | The Blogs (timesofisrael.com)

[13] Rabbi Naomi Levy Hope Will Find You

[14] Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, The Dignity of Difference, Page 206.

[15] Thank you to Yossi Klein Halevi in Dan Senor’s podcast Call Me Back, September 22, 2024.

Preamble to Yizkor Sermon

Rabbi Ben Herman ,

Before beginning my remarks, I want to make sure everyone understands what my 2nd Day Rosh Hashanah sermon was about and what it was not, as I heard a number of comments that it was polarizing and not unifying. The sermon certainly was NOT about falling in line and supporting Israel unconditionally. In fact, after the holidays I want to create (provided I get the right moderator and can create a safe space to do so) an open discussion about Israel between Zionists, including Israel supporters who have critical views about Israel. I know many won’t approve of this, yet I feel it’s important to do and will make every effort to do so. People feel they can’t share their views of Israel here, and I want to try to enable that to happen-though it will NOT be in a sermon, at Kiddush or at a Shabbat Torah Study.

My sermon about boundaries and where there was “no other hand” WAS about anti-Zionism. Last February I met with a fellow JTS graduate who is in the leadership of Jewish Voice for Peace and was looking for a place at MLC as one who likes the Conservative service. I can’t find a place for such a person. Why is there no other hand? When JVP supports a competing candlelit vigil touting “One Year of Genocide”-Israel’s genocide against the Palestinian people, celebrates UC-Davis’s divestment from Israel and calls to boycott products made in Tel Aviv, Occupied Palestine, it’s beyond my bounds. If you don’t believe me, go to their Facebook page where all of this is easily accessible even to those who don’t like the page. Fortunately this person found a home at an anti-Zionist Havurah, which meets once a month in a midtown church. If you are anti-Zionist, meaning you don’t support Israel as a home for the Jewish people but rather one, binational state that is not Jewish, then I welcome you to join that Havurah-I can give you the information after Yom Kippur. Many of us know 18- and 19-year-olds crawling through terror tunnels and I won’t spit in their face by telling them they have no right to be there. In that light, I give the following sermon remembering October 7th but of equal, if not more importance, having hope for our future.

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.

Why I Could Not Accept Mayor Steinberg’s Compromise Resolution

Rabbi Ben Herman , , , , , ,

I have gotten to know Mayor Darrell Steinberg this past year, especially regarding his proposal for the community to come together around a resolution regarding the conflict between Israel and Hamas. I had read the Mayor’s piece in January that “interfaith leaders are not talking to one another” and continued to contact interfaith leaders as I have been doing since October 7, with 8 coming to speak on our Bimah at Shabbat services. At first I believed there was a chance to bring the community together-a pro-Israel group and pro-Palestinian group were supposed to meet to revise the language on one of the early drafts. However, when the pro-Palestinian community refused to meet, the Mayor proceeded with talking to a small group of his allies, including members of CAIR, which nationally was involved in funding money to Hamas (FBI Document Depicting Relationship Between CAIR and Terror Group Hamas Published | Police Magazine). While the Mayor argued that it is supported by the Jewish leaders, it is telling to me that not a single congregational rabbi from any denomination supported the resolution.

 I did see the Mayor work on changes and especially appreciate his getting the immediate return of the hostages added to the resolution and the removal of the terminology of Israel’s disproportionate use of force. However, without the surrender of Hamas, the opportunity for Hamas to regroup and October 7 to occur again remains on the table, as Hamas’ leaders have threatened multiple times. We cannot let Hamas remain in power, especially after they violated the last ceasefire that existed through October 6.

 What is saddest to me is I am already seeing that this resolution will not bring our community together as the Mayor said it would. Last night Jewish leaders were uninvited to events in both the Interfaith and Muslim community.  At City Council meetings I watched antisemitism be thrown out and eaten up like candy and Jewish attendees having to leave under a police escort with fear for their safety. I saw a Neo-Nazi being told by the Mayor to leave, and when he refused nothing was done about it. That individual was able to speak again last night uninterrupted. In contrast, I watched 2 people wearing Israeli flags be shut down angrily by the Mayor. I cannot condone this hypocrisy.

 In my last conversation with Mayor he asked me to stand in his shoes. I have tried to do so. I have observed the vitriol and verbal abuse that he has taken week after week at City Council, the weekly protests at and vandalism of his home, as well as the terrorizing of City Council member Lisa Kaplan and the targeting of her car at the City Hall garage. At the same time, I read in today’s Sacramento Bee that the 12 people arrested for refusing to leave the city council meeting have vowed to disrupt it again.” (Protesters arrested at Sacramento council meeting speak out: ‘We are going to do it again’ (yahoo.com) The resolution which in Mayor Steinberg’s words was designed to bring the community together is actually tearing us further apart.  We are witnessing the truth of Council Member Kaplan words, “It’s going to fracture people.” I have seen the worst in people for two months. Now on my way back to Sacramento from the East Coast, I will continue to do my part to meet with other interfaith leaders, especially those who disagree with me, to build bridges and try to put this ugly hatred I have heard week after week to bed.