judaism

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.

Pride Shabbat

Rabbi Ben Herman , , ,

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

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

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

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

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

[1] Numbers 7

[2] Rashbam on Exodus 25:8

Celebrating Our Past and Celebrating Our Future

Rabbi Ben Herman , , , ,

          So wonderful to see so many of you this morning as we celebrate our congregation as well as volunteer extraordinaire Melanie Cohen’s 80th Hebrew birthday, for which our Kiddush lunch is dedicated. As Rabbi Taff’s return from Israel was delayed, I will start out according to his example. Hopefully he will be back in time to join us for tomorrow night’s Gala.

We are blessed to have reached our 125th anniversary. 125 is no insignificant number. In gematria 125 is represented by the word חזקי, or “my strength.” This is the root that we will say next Shabbat when we complete the Book of Leviticus-be strong, be strong and we will be strengthened. In other words, our collective strength as a congregation comes from each and every one of you.

Parshat Emor reflects this strength. God tells Moses “Instruct Aaron and his sons to be scrupulous about the sacred donations that the Israelite people consecrate to Me…”[1] Each gift or donation, whether monetary, in kind, of time or of resources, is not to be taken lightly. After all, this is God’s home-each synagogue being a מקדש מעט, or miniature sanctuary, resembling the Temple in Jerusalem. There is much to celebrate and much to give this year to reaffirm our commitment to Mosaic Law Congregation.

          What does the term “Mosaic Law” mean? No it is not the law of Rabbi Moses, who we are blessed to have with us today. Our synagogue’s unique name is not to be taken lightly. In fact, one of the reasons given for our being saved from the 1999 firebombing is that the brothers who committed the egregious acts thought that we were a law firm.[2] What is a strange term today was par for the course in the late 19th century. When I teach comparative Judaism in my Intro to Judaism class, I bring the Reform Movement’s Pittsburgh Platform from 1885, which uses phrases such as “Mosaic legislation” and “Mosaic and rabbinical laws.”

          125 years is a long time, and I want to highlight 3 of the leaders of our congregation over those years. I hope these individuals will become household names. The first is Moses Warhaftig z”l. The Warhaftig family was one of 7 who founded Hevrat Torah Moshe-the Mosaic Law Fellowship, incorporated on February 27, 1900. Moses Warhaftig was the driving force behind our congregation. The centennial video even says that during the early years there were times when he was the only member!-though this seems a bit farfetched. Nevertheless, Moses was literally the glue that kept our synagogue together in its early years. As secretary, he signed many synagogue documents MS Warhaftig, NOT “miss” but Moses Solomon.[3] Moses’ dedication, and of course his wife Irma’s, is part of the reason that we are still here today as a congregation.

          Another person I want to highlight is AJ Markowitz z”l. Randy Pollack is one of the few presidents we have had who took on a 3rd year. A select couple have even done multiple stints as president-and one will begin his 2nd stint as president in July. However, AJ Markowitz takes the cake. AJ served as president of our congregation from 1915 to 1940-from World War I through the beginning of World War II. As Executive Director and Past President Caren Rubin said, “he must have had a death wish.” Being President of a congregation is a thankless job. When things go wrong you get blamed; when things go right you rarely get credit. That is why we honor AJ’s dedication to our congregation today.

          The third congregant I want to highlight is Arlene Pearl z”l, the first female president at any conservative synagogue. What a challenge to be the first! In a movement which was not egalitarian (though starting to become so) which did not allow female members of the clergy, we had a female president-and boy she was strong! While I was not privileged to meet Arlene during her lifetime, as she passed away the week following my interview at MLC, I did learn about her from her daughters Sheri and Robin and officiated at her unveiling. She had a dynamic personality and was a trailblazer for all the women following her and all those to come.

          I will not highlight the MLC clergy in the same fashion. With that being said, as your 18th, or “Chai” rabbi (have to keep the gematria going), I am most blessed to preside over our congregation during this auspicious anniversary. I want to do so by not only celebrating our past but by also celebrating our future. This Shabbat we are blessed to celebrate the students in our Mercaz Religious School, for all they have learned and for all they will continue to learn-after all, learning never ends. Today our students led Barchu, Shema/V’Ahavta, Avot and Gevurot, the Torah Service, blessings before and after Haftarah and Ashrei. They will also lead concluding prayers. The past two weeks combined we have been blessed to welcome 7 Torah readers trained by Cantor Rachels-another example of celebrating where we are at and what is to come. Thank you Cantor for having trained so many new readers over your 2 years here. We are blessed to have you and we are all going to miss you.

          As our celebration continues this weekend with Musaf, Kiddush, a special Torah Study on what it means to be holy and the Gala, I want each of us to think about 1 or 2 new things that we can contribute to Mosaic Law Congregation. For some it might be offering to host a first meeting for one of the Dor Hadash Havurot I continue to set up; for others it could be to volunteer to make Kiddush lunch a few times during the year; for others perhaps joining the leadership of our Men’s Club or Sisterhood; others might find joy volunteering in our Mercaz Religious School or Sisterhood Gift Shop; others could be inclined to help greenify our campus or join with Kayamut to have a more sustainable campus. We are as vibrant as the sum of our parts, and each of you is an integral part of what makes Mosaic Law Congregation great. Thank you for your dedication-חזקי-may each and every one of us be strong.

[1] Leviticus 22:2

[2] Other reasons I have heard are that they had the wrong phone number and that they didn’t get down to M alphabetically in their list of synagogues. For more information on the firebombings, see https://drive.google.com/file/d/1AZz5UPZ-wYWhHe3PJoIPeA9JtrRqvOWG/view?usp=drive_link

[3] Thank you to Judy Persin, Chief Archivist of MLC, for her help with this.

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

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.

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.

Humility as an Approach to Teshuva

Rabbi Ben Herman , , , ,

          What is repentance all about? The Hebrew word תשובה (teshuvah) has at least 3 meetings: repentance, return and “the answer.” What is Teshuvah in answer to? The question What does God want from me right now in this very moment?

         That is a question which I won’t propose to answer today. However, I’ll share words from Rabbi Shai Held’s book Judaism is about Love. He writes that teshuvah “is less about castigating ourselves or enumerating our manifold sins than it is about remembering what we are capable of and taking stock of what we still need to do in order to live in a way that reflects God’s love and our worth.”[1] We are aware through teshuvah that we have human agency as well as the ability to bring atonement through our constructive actions.

          There is a Hasidic teaching by Rabbi Simha Bunim that one should have pieces of paper in two different pockets. One should contain the maxim בשבילי נברא העולם, for my sake the world was created. The other should contain the statement, אנכי עפר ואפר, I am but dust an ashes. Rabbi Bunim instructed that when we are in imbalance, leaning more towards one side than the other, we need to open the pocket that will lead us back into balance. Thus, if I feel on top of the world, that nothing can touch me, I need the “I am but dust and ashes.” If, on the other hand, I feel down in the dumps, I need to remember “For my sake, the world was created”-what we celebrated on Rosh Hashanah, the creation of all humanity.

          In balancing ourselves out, we also need to find the areas that we need to work on in our lives. Rabbi Yeruham Levovitz’s student, Rabbi Shlomo Wolbe, cited him as stating: “Woe to a person who is unaware of their shortcomings, because they will not know what to work on. But even greater woe to a person who is unaware of their virtues, because they don’t even know what they have to work with.”[2] We must always be aware of the good things that we have in life and utilize them to strengthen ourselves.

As Rabbi Elyakin Krumbein notes in the name of Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik, “any confession of sin must include, in order to be meaningful, the realization that one is a spiritual being with spiritual achievements.”[3] We are always aspirational, trying to grow in any way we can. In Shabbat Torah Study, I once was asked why do we go through this High Holy Day season year after year? What could possibly be its purpose? My response was that we are G-d willing different people this year than we were last year. We have grown in so many different ways and will continue to grow over the course of the coming year.

As we grow in our knowledge and in our understanding of the world, we recognize that we do not have all the answers. That is where humility comes in. At times we can say, “I don’t know but I can look it up or get back to you,” or “Let me think about that.” In so doing, we acknowledge that we are far from perfect and that each of us is always on a course of growth and development. At the same time, we recognize that we can make a big impact in the world around us.

[1] Rabbi Shai Held, Judaism is about Love: Recovering the Heart of Jewish Life (New York: Farrar, Strauss and Giroux, 2004), pg. 38, footnote 39.

[2] Ibid, pg. 38.

[3] Rabbi Elyakim Krumbein, “on the ‘Humility’ Dilemma and Its Solution, Tradition 39, no. 1 (Spring 2005), pg. 54.