Last night we began a discussion of hiddenness. It seemed appropriate because part of the story of Purim is that G-d was hidden. Esther with Mordechai’s prompting rises to the occasion and saves the Jews. But we never meet G-d in the story itself. G-d remains hidden. 

With the kids we used the story, In G-d’s Hands, by Rabbi Larry Kushner (and Gary Schmidt who turns out to be a professor at Calvin College in Grand Rapids, small world). It is the story of a rich man who falls asleep in shul and wakes up thinking that G-d is telling him to bake 12 loaves of challah as a gift for G-d. He thinks this is strange but does it and doesn’t know where to put them. He settles on placing them in the ark. Hiding them, perhaps? The town’s poor man comes into the sanctuary and prays that he doesn’t know how to feed his family and unless G-d performs a miracle, his family will surely starve. He opens the ark, and wow! 12 loaves of challah! A miracle. This goes on for weeks and weeks until the rabbi spies them. At first they are disappointed. G-d doesn’t really eat my challah? G-d doesn’t really give me challah? But they realize that theirs are the hands of G-d.  

To illustrate this story, we hid Hershey kisses in the ark that we let the kids find. What fun we had. 

Today’s parsha, Ki Tisa, also deals with hiddenness. Moses has been up on the mountain communicating with G-d for a long time. He is hidden from view. The people are scared. Very scared. What if Moses doesn’t come back. What if G-d isn’t really G-d since G-d is hidden from view. They both are. The people beg Aaron to build for them a golden calf, a substitute image for G-d. An idol. For most of us, we think that Aaron who acquiesces to their demands is a bad leader because we know that idol worship is wrong, a sin we are told. But in Pirke Avot, a section the Talmud we learn something different about Aaron.  

Hillel used to say: be of the disciples of Aaron, loving peace and pursuing peace, loving mankind and drawing them close to the Torah. (Pirke Avot 1:2) 

So when Moses, and G-d were both hidden from view, Aaron stepped up and pursued peace.  

G-d is angry about the golden calf and the stiff necked people who needed that kind of reassurance. G-d threatens to destroy the Israelites. Moses talks him off a cliff. Quite literally. 

But Moses, too was angry when he came back down the mountain. So angry   about what had happened in his absence that he smashed the luach, the stone tablets. The Aseret Debrot, The 10 Sayings, Words, Commandments. The very thing he had been up on top of the mountain . Now G-d was angry again and demanded that Moses return to the top of the mountain to receive the commandments again.  

Moses will only go back up that mountain if G-d will reassure him. He wants to know who is going with him. G-d reassures him and says that G-d will go with him and give him rest. (or lighten his burden). Moses wants more. He wants to understand the essential nature of G-d. He wants to see G-d. This hidden G-d. G-d promises to hide Moses in the cleft of the rock and let all G-d’s goodness pass before him. But Moses cannot see G-d’s face and live. (G-d has a face?) Moses can see G-d’s backside (G-d has a back?) and we learn the 13 attributes, the essential nature of G-d. G-d remains hidden but we know so much more.  

Debbie Friedman sang, based on Psalm 29 or Psalm 102, “Don’t hide Your face from me, I’m asking for Your help I call to You, please hear my prayers, O God. If you would answer me, as I have called to You, Please heal me now, don’t hide Your face from me” 

We want to be reassured. We want to know G-d. To see G-d. Even when G-d is hidden from view. We want to know that G-d will go with us and give us rest. 

But something else happens in this portion. Moses has smashed the commandments. The people gather them together and place them in the ark, side by side with the full, complete set. Midrash? Yes. But an important one. 

It’s a about dreams made and dreams broken. It’s about reassurance and resilience. It’s about being able to pick up and begin again. And that may be the moment many of us are in today.  

Roger Kamenetz teaches, “The broken tablets were also carried in an ark. In so far as they represented everything shattered, everything lost, they were the law of broken things, the leaf torn from the stem in a storm, a cheek touched in fondness once but now the name forgotten. How they must have rumbled, clattered on the way even carried so carefully through the waste land, how they must have rattled around until the pieces broke into pieces, the edges softened crumbling, dust collected at the bottom of the ark ghosts of old letters, old laws. In so far as a law broken is still remembered these laws were obeyed. And in so far as memory preserves the pattern of broken things these bits of stone were preserved through many journeys and ruined days even, they say, into the promised land.” 

Estelle Frankel in her book Sacred Therapy asks these questions, “So what does it mean that the Torah was given not once, but twice? What was different about these two revelations? And what are the spiritual lessons we can learn from the fact that the Israelites gathered up the fragments and carried the broken tablets with them on their journey? 

First, she teaches, “In fact, failure is often a gateway through which we must pass in order to receive our greatest gifts.” At MIT’s Office of Intellectual Property, they tell their young scholars, soon to be business professionals that they expect young entrepreneurs to fail. Many business people have done just that. Tried out an idea and then made a mistake and failed. They need that trial and error before they can get it right. American pop culture epitomizes this in the song, 

 “Pick yourself up. Dust yourself off. Start all over again.” We tell kids learning to ride a horse or a bike, that if they fall, they need to get back on and ride. It isn’t easy. But this morning’s parsha teaches us it is possible. And that gives us hope. 

Frankel says it better: “It was only after Israel’s greatest single act of folly—namely, worshiping the golden calf—that they were able to truly receive and hold on to the gift of Torah, or spiritual illumination. Sometimes we only learn to appreciate life’s gifts after we have lost them. If, however, we are lucky enough to be given a second chance, with the wisdom we have acquired through our experience of failure, we learn how to cherish and hold on to what we are given.” 

“The two revelations at Sinai can also be seen as symbolizing the inevitable stages we go through in our spiritual development. The first tablets, like the initial visions we have for our lives, frequently shatter, especially when they are based on naïvely idealistic assumptions. Our first marriages or first careers may fail to live up to their initial promise. We may join communities or follow spiritual teachers and paths that disappoint or even betray us. Our very conceptions of God and our assumptions about the meaning of faith may shatter as we bump up against the morally complex and often contradictory aspects of the real world. Yet, if we learn from our mistakes and find ways to pick up the broken pieces of shattered dreams, we can go on to re-create our lives out of the rubble of our initial failures. And ultimately, we become wiser and more complex as our youthful ideals are replaced by more realistic and sustainable ones.” 

G-d may seem hidden. Like in the Purim story. Like in the cleft of the rock. Like in the story of the challah in the ark. Like with the wind. We can see the evidence of the wind but we can’t see the wind itself. But together, we can get to the Promised Land, the land of our dreams, Hold on to your dreams. G-d will give you rest. 

This parsha is about gifts and building. 

“Tell the Israelite people to bring Me gifts; you shall accept gifts for Me from every person whose heart is so moved.” 

The Torah Study group was puzzled. How could this be a commandment, something you must do and still be something that is a gift from your heart? What relevance is it today? Why does G-d need gifts.  

Let’s start with a basic question. What is a gift? something that comes from the heart. a thing given willingly to someone without payment; a present. a natural ability or talent. 

We know the phrase, “It is better to give than to receive.” The Shaker hymn teaches: 

“Tis a gift to be simple, ‘tis a gift to be free; 
‘Tis a gift to come down where we all ought to be; 
And when we find ourselves in the place just right, 
And will be in the valley of Love and Delight.” 

In December’s Town and Country magazine, a gift that showed up unexpectedly on our doorstep, it tells us that giving actually changes the brain chemistry for the good and we experience joy. If, and only if, we find the right gift for the right person. 

Our text goes on to give us a very specific list of what our G-d apparently wants:
“And these are the gifts that you shall accept from them: gold, silver, and copper;
blue, purple, and crimson yarns, fine linen, goats’ hair;
tanned ram skins, dolphin skins, and acacia wood;
oil for lighting, spices for the anointing oil and for the aromatic incense;
lapis lazuli and other stones for setting, for the ephod and for the breastpiece.” 

These are the things that the Israelites need to build a mishkan, a place for G-d to dwell.  

וְעָ֥שׂוּ לִ֖י מִקְדָּ֑שׁ וְשָׁכַנְתִּ֖י בְּתוֹכָֽם׃
And let them make Me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2W_XxCh2b30 

Note the text very carefully here. G-d will dwell among them not among it. G-d will be with us.  In the spaces between us. Perhaps this is why G-d needs gifts. It is the I-Thou relationship that Martin Buber talks about. Relationship is a gift.  

Rabbi Matt Berkowitz talks about it this way: 

“Immediately, from the title of this parashah, an exegetical direction is hinted at. At the heart of the word t’rumah, translated as “offering,” one discovers the Hebrew root meaning “lifting up” or “high.” God speaks to Moses saying, “Tell the Israelite people to bring Me gifts (t’rumah); you will accepts gifts (t’rumati) for Me from every person whose heart so moves him” (Exodus 25:2). To make a gift, or in more sacred language, to give tzedakah, literally involves an act of lifting one’s eyes and heart higher. One must become selfless, transcending one’s self and envisioning a reality of tikkun olam. That is precisely what God demands of the Israelites in this parashah—they must set their sights higher, and doing so will not only elevate their own souls but more important, will bring God’s Presence into their midst.”  

He then went on to teach an important midrash 

“A beautiful midrash sparked by this week’s Torah reading sums up the essence of thinking toward the future. Exodus 26:15 states, “and you will make the boards for the Tabernacle.” Midrash Tanhuma queries, “Where did the boards come from? Jacob, our father, planted them. When he came down to Egypt, he said to his sons: MY sons! You are destined to be redeemed from here, and when you are redeemed, the Holy One will tell you that you are to make a Tabernacle for God. Rise up and plant cedars now, so that when God tells you to make a Tabernacle, these cedars will be ready. So Jacob’s sons set to planting cedars, doing just what he had told them. Hence, Torah speaks of ‘the boards,’ the boards their father had arranged should be ready” (Tanhuma T’rumah 9).” 

It’s like the story of Honi that we often tell at Tu B’shevat. Honi is surprised to see an old man planting a carob tree. Surely, he will not be able to eat of its fruit. The old man answered, just as my ancestors planted for me, so do I plant for my children and grandchildren.”  

That’s what your gifts are doing, planting for the generations yet to come. 

There is a cost to building a mishkan, to building a sanctuary, a kehila kedosha, a holy community. Soon we will have Shabbat Shekelim that talks about the half shekel tax, the price of membership. Think of it as the baseline dues. Then there are the gifts of the heart, over and above what you are required to give. 

This could be the monetary physical things as the text describes, good, silver, copper and more.  

Or gifts that you have. We have a number of people here who go over and above sharing their talents, their gifts with us. 

Some examples: Jerry and Robin and the garden. Judi and Barb for organizing the soup kettle. Anita for decorating tables so beautifully for things like the Passover seders. Another Anita for graciously making kugel recently. Ken for the gift of shofar blowing. Stew for the gift of music. Nikki for the gift of baking. Lizzie for her ability to “yad”. Gene for his Mr. Fix-It abilities. Those are just a few of them. Each of you has a gift you can share.  

Does G-d need our gifts? Maybe. G-d needs us to be in relationship, with G-d and with each other. The Seer of Lublin, one of the great Hasidic Masters, tells the story of when he was a boy, He used to go to the forest and when his father asked him why, he explained, “I go there to find G-d.” When his father reminded him that G-d is everywhere, the boy answered, “G-d is by I am not.” Yes, G-d is everywhere, as another Hasidic master, rabbi Menachem Mendel of Kotzk reminds us. He asked some learned men who were visiting him, “Where is the dwelling place of God?” Laughing, they responded, “What a thing to ask! Is not the whole earth full of God’s glory?” [Isaiah 6:3] Menachem Mendel then answered his own question: “God dwells wherever we let God in.” (Martin Buber, Tales of the Hasidim: Later Masters, New York: Schocken Books, 1948, p. 277) 

The gifts we bring are designed to build something. Something special. Something holy. A sacred place. Yes, for G-d. But for all of us. A place set aside where we can experience the Divine.  

More than the physical gifts, it takes coming together. There is community and connection in pulling together. In working toward a common purpose. It is holy. But it takes all of us pulling together. It takes the physical gifts and the spiritual gifts. 

Each of us holds our own special treasure, our gift, our set-apart, to help establish a dwelling place for God and for each other. Come build with me. 

Happy Valentine’s Day. St. Valentine’s Day. This is not necessarily a Jewish holiday. But perhaps as Ecclesiastes says “There is nothing new under the sun.” 

Its roots are very ancient and there are overlays to what we do as Jews. It goes back further than the Catholic Church who recognizes three saints named Valentine. One was a priest in the third century CE who when Emperor Claudius II decided that single men made better soldiers than those with families, he outlawed marriage. We, too have rules of how to make war in the book of Deuteronomy. Valentine continued to perform marriages in secret. 

“Then the officials shall address the troops, as follows: “Is there anyone who has built a new house but has not dedicated it? Let him go back to his home, lest he die in battle and another dedicate it. Is there anyone who has planted a vineyard but has never harvested it? Let him go back to his home, lest he die in battle and another harvest it. Is there anyone who has paid the bride-price for a wife, but who has not yet taken her [into his household]? Let him go back to his home, lest he die in n battle and another take her to wife.” 

Yes, I am grateful to St. Valentine who defied the church. Yes, I am grateful for those who stood up for marriage equality in more recent times and agreed with Lin-Manuel Miranda, Love is Love is Love. Or the mug I drank my coffee out of this morning, “Choose Love.” So, celebrate Valentine’s Day I do.  

 In medieval France and England, this time was the beginning of the birds’ mating season. Did you hear the birds this morning? Did you feed the birds this morning? It reminds me of Shabbat Beshallach, often near Tu B’shevat, which we celebrated recently.  

Last night I gave my monthly D’var Torah, a word of Torah, to our board meeting. It is a way of setting the tone for the meeting and the month to come. Here is what I said” 

This week is “Love a mensch week.” Thanks to our board president for spotting it. It turns out it is sponsored by J-Date and a woman who wrote a book about how to marry a mensch. just ahead of Valentine’s Day. Not a very Jewish holiday, nonetheless it is fun to celebrate and to quote an old song, “What the world needs now is love, sweet love.”  

Earlier this week I asked our Torah school kids what a mensch is and what a hero is. They weren’t quite clear. They had a hard time naming any heroes. The Hulk. Superman. Spiderman. Wonder Woman. Finally, they got to veterinarians, first responders, teachers, even parents.  

We are focusing on heroes and menschen ahead of Purim which celebrates the heroism of Esther and Mordechai. We are using a book, Heroes with Chutzpah, about 101 True Tales of Jewish trailblazers, changemakers and rebels. (More on that later.) We started with Gal Gadot, who played Wonder Woman and is currently serving in the IDF in the reserves. That alone would make her a hero! 

A mensch is a good person. Someone who goes over and above the expected to make the world a better place. How does that tie into Judaism and Valentine’s Day. I think it does. There are two words for love in Hebrew. Ahavah and Chesed.  

Chesed is the harder word to translate. It means something like lovingkindness. One member recently told me while the world needs love it needs even more kindness. He’s not wrong. Menschen are those who are incredibly, graciously kind. In our tradition we say that the world stands on three things, On Torah, on Service and on acts of lovingkindness, gemilut chasadim.  

We even define those acts of lovingkindness in a quote from the Talmud. These are the obligations without measure whose reward to is without measure. To honor father and mother, to perform acts of love and kindness, to attend the house of study daily, to welcome the stranger, to visit the sick, to rejice with the bride and groom, to console the bereaved, to pray with sincerity, to make peace where there is strife. And the study of Torah is equal to them all because it leads to them all.  (Page 52 of Gates of Prayer)

We at CKI have had the opportunity to do many of these things, including a recent wedding and way too many moments of consoling the bereaved. Each of those are moments when we live out being kind.  

I think they also lead to Ahavah, the other word for love.  

The first use of Ahavah in the Torah is when Rebecca spots Isaac, falls off her camel and Isaac takes her to his mother, Sarah’s tent and he loves her. And he is comforted on his mother’s death. It is a la dor vador moment, from generation to generation, And it reads like the first Hollywood script.  

There are three times we are commanded to love something in the Torah:
V’ahavta et Adonai Elohecha, You shall love the Lord your G-d. With all your heart, with all your soul, with all you being (with all your everything as I often say. 

V’ahavtem et hagar, You (plural) must love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt. 

V’ahavta  l’rayecha kamocha, Love your neighbor as yourself. That is the translation we are most familiar with. Every translation is a commentary. Perhaps it really means fellow or kin. But I am not sure it changes the impact of these three sentences. 

Love G-d, Love the stranger. Love your fellow. Hillel sums it up similarly, “If I am not for myself who will be for me. If I am only for myself, what am I and if not now, when.” 

It is our job as a board, as a kehila kodosha, a holy community to love each other. To listen to each other and to respond to each other with kindness, respect and yes, love. That’s how I’ll be celebrating Valentine’s Day.  

Earlier this week I did one of those things I love. I had the opportunity to speak to a class from Judson University. They asked intelligent, thought provoking questions. Any time I do one of those, it enhances my understanding of my Judaism and helps me explain it not only to them, but to all of us. It also reduces anti-semitism. Not one of those kids had ever been in a synagogue before. They will most likely never forget being here. 

One of their questions seems relevant to today, Rosh Hodesh Adar 1 and Shabbat Mishpatim. Today is Rosh Hodesh Adar and it is when we begin to prepare for Purim which celebrates the heroism of Esther, a woman, Our preparations are well underway at CKI! And yes, we can find ways to Be Happy, It’s Adar even in the middle of this war. It is what is demanded of us. We are still happy, we are still celebrating the survival of the Jewish people even after all these years. Perhaps especially in the middle of war that threatens our very destruction. 

 The parsha today, Mishpatim, has more rules than any other parsha, hence the name Mishpatim, rules. There are three words, Mitzvot, commandments, Mishpatim, rules and hukim, statutes. Perhaps what they all are are obligations. How we set up a just, moral and ethical society. 

One of the Judson questions was what hurdles have I faced as a woman rabbi. Usually, I don’t think about it. By the time I was thinking about being a rabbi, there were already women rabbis. It never really occurred to me that I couldn’t be one. Now there are women rabbis in all the movements. Rabbi Sally Priesand was the first Reform woman rabbi. Rabbi Amy Eilberg was the first Conservative woman rabbi. Rabbi Sandy Sasso was the first Reconstructing woman rabbi and the same year I was ordained, Rabbah Sara Hurvitz was the first Orthodox woman rabbi. There are two other names you might want to know. Rabbi Regina Jonas was ordained in Berlin and then murdered at Auschwitz and Oznat Barzarni in Mosul 1590 who was the Rosh Yeshiva after her husband died. I stand on the shoulders of all of them nd am grateful for them. 

Another question the Judson students asked was what spiritual practice in Judaism do I engage in that means the most to me, With 613 commandments which we talked about last week I had to think hard. There are so many that are meaningful and what is meaningful to me may not be to some of you. That’s OK. I view spiritual practice as a way to connect with the divine. Sometimes that way changes. I finally came up  Shabbat dinner. I like converting my dining table to a mikdah ma’at, a little sanctuary. I like buying flowers, setting a beautiful table, preparing special food. I’m a little like the book Joseph who loved the Sabbath. I like welcoming guests and practicing hachnasat orchim, hospitality, The best book I read last year was Braided, the Journey of a Thousand Challahs. Here is this woman, a physician who felt her life was out of balance, Someone suggested that she start baking challah and handed her a recipe from a Mom and Me preschool challah baking class at the 92nd Street Y. The taking of challah is one of three commandments specifically incumbent on women The other two are shabbat candles and the laws of family purity and going to the mikveh, It all seems to fit together 

This day, Rosh Hodesh, is set aside to celebrate women as a special holiday for women. There are many heroes we have, Seven women prophets:  Sarah, Miriam, Deborah, Hannah, Huldah, Abigail, and Esther. There are other Biblical heroes we could add. Rachel and Leah, Rebecca, Hagar, Yocheved, Tziporrah, the daughters of Zelophefed, Ruth, and Shifra and Puah. 

Shifra and Puah were the midwives who delivered the baby boys under the threat of death when the Israelites were slaves in Egypt. They delivered Moses. Some say that maybe they were Yocheved and Miriam. Whoever they were, it took courage to do what they did. 

This week is known also as Repro Shabbat. All over the country rabbis and cantors are talking about the rights of women to healthcare, to contraception, to abortion. The rights of doctors to perform medically necessary procedures to save the life of the mother.  

I didn’t set out to be a woman rabbi, I just wanted to be a rabbi. But early on, I learned that I get questions that my male colleagues don’t get. I get questions about mikvah and menstruation, about rape and domestic violence, about breast feeding and weaning. And yes, contraception and abortion. Yes, there are answers to those questions from within a Jewish perspective.  

This week’s parsha has the beginning of the clues to this: 

When [two or more] parties fight, and one of them pushes a pregnant woman and a miscarriage results, but no other damage ensues, [the one responsible] shall be fined according as the woman’s husband may exact, the payment to be based on reckoning.  

But if other damage ensues, the penalty shall be life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot,burn for burn, wound for wound, bruise for bruise.’ 

From this, in today’s portion, the rabbis (all male) derive that it is permissible to have an abortion to save the life of the mother, Full stop. I can go through all the sources with you, as I have done before. Just two more: 

In cases of capital law, the Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi says with regard to that which is written: “If men struggle and they hurt a pregnant woman…and if there shall be a tragedy you shall give a life for a life” (Exodus 21:22–23), the reference is to a monetary payment for the life that he took. The tragedy referenced is the unintentional killing of the mother. (Sanhedrin 87b) 

Rav Ḥisda raised an objection to Rav Huna from a baraita: If a woman was giving birth and her life was being endangered by the fetus, the life of the fetus may be sacrificed in order to save the mother. But once his head has emerged during the birthing process, he may not be harmed in order to save the mother, because one life may not be pushed aside to save another life. If one is permitted to save the pursued party by killing the minor who is pursuing him, why is this so? The fetus is a pursuer who is endangering his mother’s life. The Gemara answers: This is not difficult, as it is different there, with regard to the woman giving birth, since she is being pursued by Heaven. Since the fetus is not acting of his own volition and endangering his mother of his own will, his life may not be taken in order to save his mother. (Sanhedrin 72b) 

This may surprise you, but I serve on the Community Leadership Board of a Catholic Hospital. When they first approached me, I was very clear. I was Jewish and a woman and a woman rabbi. I might not agree with them on abortion and birth control. They said that was precisely why they wanted me. I agreed. Now, it is important to note that hospital doesn’t have an OB-GYN group. When I was doing my CPE at a Catholic Hospital in Boston, there was a young woman who came to the hospital after having an abortion in New Hampshire. The doctors had missed that it was an ectopic pregnancy and she was bleeding out. The hospital I was interning in, did was a medically necessary and appropriate. This young Protestant woman in a Catholic hospital wanted me, the Jewish chaplain to assure her she wasn’t going to hell. I did the best I could but I always wonder what happened to her. These days in some states she could have died.  

My religion is very clear. The life of the mother for physical or even mental reasons comes before the life of the potential life.  

I am grateful that we live in Illinois where despite the overturning of Roe v Wade, it is still a right here. I am never sure for exactly how long that right can be guaranteed. It requires vigilance on our parts. I also know that these choices are incredibly painful and need to be done in consultation with your physician, and your partner and trusted advisors 

Let me be clear. I work for access to health care services for all. I will sit with a couple and discuss a range of options for contraception, for IVF, for abortion, for keeping a child, for pregnancy and birth, for preganancy loss, for fostering a child, for hysterectomies or vasectomies, for breast feeding and breast cancer, for rape and sexual assault, for the whole range of “women’s health” for whatever the couple or the woman herself, by herself, is concerned about. I will make the appropriate referrals as necessary. The challenges to me being a woman rabbi are great. But the challenge of just being a woman are greater. May we all live to see a world where women’s stories and concerns are believed, where the health care of men and women are treated equally and equitably. Ken yihi ratzon.

The watchword o our faith, the central verse is Sh’ma. “Sh’ma Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu Adonai Echad. Hear, O Israel, the Lord is our G-d, the Lord is One.” Listen, Hear.  

But it is not in today’s portion. Today’s portion has a lot to do, nonetheless with listening. It begins with the story of Yitro, Jethro. Moses’s father-in-law, who instructs Moses, that he can’t do this job alone. He needs to delegate or risk what we would call in the modern world burn out. Exhaustion. And Moses listens.  

Then Moses listens to G-d when he is given the instructions, for how to prepare himself and the people to receive the Torah, the 10 commandments, whatever is about to happen on Mount Sinai. But he doesn’t repeat it correctly. He adds to the instructions and tells the people to not go near a woman. Did he not listen? Did he have his own agenda separate from G-d? Did some scribe write it down wrong? We will never know.  

It goes to a concept of active listening. It would appear that even Moshe Rabbenu, our greatest teacher needed to practice active listening more.  

Active listening can be defined as a way of listening and responding to another person that improves mutual understanding. It is an important first step to defuse the situation and seek solutions to problems. 

Active listening involves noticing cues that are both non-verbal, things you see, and verbal, the things said.  

Being a good listener means making eye contact, focusing on the other person, leaning forward, leaning into the conversation or nodding, sitting still, and letting the other person finish what they are saying without interruptions, and an interested silence, giving space for the person to respond.  

Being a good active listening can mean restating what someone says, reflecting what they are feeling, and asking open-ended clarifying questions like “What happened?” or “How did you feel about that?” Or “What I think you are saying is…?” 

You need to be quiet in order to hear, Be still and know that I am G-d. That is part of the message of Elijah who teaches us that the voice of G-d is the still, small voice, 

There was thunder, there was lightening, there was smoking and quaking. There was the sound of shofars. But we are told that it was so quiet that even the birds did not chip. Everyone was straining to hear the voice of G-d. There was even a voice for very young children.  

Close your eyes. Sh. Imagine being at the base of Mount Sinai. Sh. What are you feeling?  

What are you hearing? The voice of G-d booming over the thunder and the lightning? The voice of Moses repeating what G-d is saying? The internal voice, that still small voice within? A child standing next to you, perhaps demanding more water, more food? Maybe you hear a goat bleating. It ia noisy standing there. You are straining to hear. Maybe it is like a rock concert or an NFL game. Maybe it is the Superbowl itself. 600,000 people strong. A mixed multitude A cacophony.  

And then nothing. Silence. Not even a bird chirping. Sh. 

(Read 10 Commandments here):
1) I am the Lord Your G-d, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage. 

2) You shall have no other gods before Me. 

3) You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain. 

4) Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy. 

5) Honor your father and your mother. 

6) You shal not murder. 

7) You shal not commit adultery. 

8) You shall not steal. 

9) You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor. 

10) You shall not covet anything that belongs to your neighbor. 

Sh. 

See the thunder and hear the lightning. That is not the natural order of things. Ordinarily you see the lighting and hear the thunder. Something powerful just happened. We lack adequate words to describe it. You are standing there in awe. Wow! 

Sh. 

As Jews we call these the Aseret Debrot. The 10 Sayings, the 10 Words, the 10 Things, The 10 Pronouncements. They are core to our identity. Notice, however, that they are not the 10 Mitzvot. In English we call them the 10 Commandments.  

A commandment is something that if someone believes that G-d has directed them to something, then it is a commandment. An example I found online aimed at high school students: “If your parents grimly order you to clean your room, you can also consider that a commandment.” But as that source pointed out “strictly speaking, a commandment is divinely ordered, like the Ten Commandments in the Bible. But you should feel free to use this word for any solemn, serious directive or set of guiding principles. The commandments of your French club, for example, might include “no speaking in English” and “don’t be late — unless you brought croissants.” 

We Jews have 613 Commandments. We cite Rabbi Simlai as the source in the Talmud, Makkot 23b. The 613 commandments include “positive commandments”, to perform an act or in Hebrew a mitzvot aseh, and “negative commandments”, to abstain from an act or mitzvot lo taaseh. The negative commandments number 365, the number of days in the solar year, and the positive commandments number 248, a number believed to be the number of bones in the body. Maimonides reiterated the 613 number and even enumerated them. 

But no individual can do all 613. Many of them are only ones for the Holy Temple in Jerusalem which was destroyed in 70CE. That leaves 77 positive commandments and 194 negative commandments of which 26 only apply in the land of Israel. That seems much more doable.  

Doable, the commandments are about things we do (or don’t do). The people standing at the foot of the mountain said “We will do, and we will hear.” How could they do things before they knew what they were? I think they were willing to do whatever it takes. It’s like the Nike slogan, “Just do it.”  

Some of it seems so obvious, How do set up a just, righteous, moral society, The rabbis identified 7 laws that are incumbent on all the descendants of Noah.  Establishing laws and courts, and the prohibition of blasphemy, idolatry, adultery, bloodshed, theft, and eating the blood of a living animal. Not quite the 10 commandments, but close.  

Maybe it is more like Debbie Friedman sings, 
“Well, there were 613 commandments that Moses handed to us
As we stood at the foot of the mountain of Sinai
Our dear Moses started to fuss
He threw two tablets onto the ground
And much to our surprise
The ten commandments broke into pieces
And we couldn’t believe our eyes.
We are chosen and to choose.
Had we not made a promise to be chosen and to choose
Remember there wouldn’t be a people that we call the Jews.” 

Close your eyes again, if you are willing. Sh. What do you hear? What choice are you making? As Heather often says, “Make Good Choices.” I would add, “listen to that deep well of knowledge, that internal voice that tells us what we are commanded to do,”  

Today we read the Song at the Sea, the song that the Israelites sang when as I say week after week they sang with Moses when they reached the other side after the Sea of Reeds parted, after the Israelites walked through, after the Egyptians drowned, the chariots, the drivers, and yes, the horses.  

“We just lived through a miracle, we’re going to dance tonight,” Debbie Friedman, z’l wrote as part of her song. And dance they apparently did. And sang. With their tambourines. The women remembered to bring them with them when they fled from Egypt. I don’t know that I would have remembered mine. And yet even before having participated in Violins of Hope last year, we know that people fleeing the ravages of the Holocaust most certainly carried their instruments with them. Maybe not a piano, and only a very few cellos, but my tamborine might have fit.  

Last night we brainstormed what we would be feeling, now that we have escaped out of the narrow places: 

Relief, joy, anxiety, fear, trepidation, amazement, awe, determination. There may be even more. 

Yet they all sang. Together but In the singular. Az yashir, Then Moses…Ze eli, this is my God. 

Last night we listened to a variety of Mi Chamocha songs that represent many of those emotions we could name and imagine. (Some are at the end of this writing.) 

At Torah Study I said that I have a hard time with this text. Once I said that in this congregation and people were surprised that a rabbi would have a problem with Torah text. We should just accept it as written. The sense was it came from God and therefore we can’t question it. But Jews are Godwrestlers, so wrestling and questioning the text is appropriate.  

As a woman I am not comfortable with the idea of G-d as a G-d of War. Usually, I don’t think that there is much of a difference between women’s images of G-d and men’s.  But here “Miriam took her timbrel in her hand and all the women followed her, just as she had planned.” The text tells us they sang the same song, or at least the beginning of the song. Or as some sources say, it was really Miriam who wrote the whole thing.  

Mekhilta teaches us that while Ezekiel and Isaiah had visions of the Divine, “even a lowly bondswoman  at the shore of the sea, saw directly the power of the Almighty in splitting the sea unlike Isiah and Ezekiel who only saw visions of the Divine. All recognized in that instant their personal redemption and therefore all of them opened their mouths to sing in unison. 

And still maybe not everyone saw the miracle: 

Rabbi Larry Kushner tells the midrashic story of Reuven and Shimon. They kept their heads down complaining about the muck. While the sea parted and was safe to walk on, (I imagine it like the walk to Bar Island in Bar Harbor), it wasn’t completely dry, more like a beach at low tide. “This is just like the slime pits of Egypt!” replied Reuven. “What’s the difference?” Complained Shimon. “Mud here, mud there; it’s all the same.”  

And so, it went for the two of them, grumbling all the way across the bottom of the sea. And, because they never once looked up, they never understood why on the distant shore, everyone else was singing and dancing. For Reuven and Shimon the miracle never happened. (Shmot Rabbah 24:1) 

I have wrestled with this text for so long, I wrote a paper about it in rabbinical school. What saved it for me then was the line, “Ozi v’zimrat Yah, v’hi lishu’a. G-d is my strength and my might and my song, G-d is my deliverer.” I need strength, Lord, Oh, do I need strength. You might too. Strength and courage and fortitude: determination and perseverance to face whatever comes next, to come out on the other side, just like the Israelites walking through the sea. I once sang this song riding a bicycle in a fundraising event. I don’t ride bicycles and I was petrified. Note again, this song is in the singular, that we sing as a collective. 

But this text needed to be looked at again, particularly this year as the war in Israel and Palestine continues. I don’t pray that G-d is on our side and this feels dangerously close to that. I don’t pray that Michigan wins a football game either. I may pray for a clean game with no injuries and no penalties. But not usually. (in case you are wondering) 

This weekend we mark the yahrzeit of Yuval Berger. You will hear his name later on the Kaddish list. He was my boyfriend in high school. He was part of a Reform Movement exchange program and spent six months in Grand Rapids. The night he was heading back to Israel I got a flat tire in his host family’s driveway. We started up our relationship again when I lived in Israel as an undergraduate. We spent time hiking and swimming as many young Israeli couples do. We planned to get married after I finished Tufts. I would become a rabbi and he would be a shliach, an emissary. Six months we would live in the States. Six months we would live in Israel, working with American kids falling in love with the land, the people, the state of Israel. That dream was not to happen. There was no miracle for Yuval. But I didn’t blame G-d, and I didn’t blame Lebanon, and I didn’t blame Israel. He died a hero making sure the men under his authority were not also killed. I worked for peace so that no family would have to experience the pain that I endured. I even wrote part of my rabbinical thesis about the Israel Palestine conflict. That section is sadly very much in play. 

I looked at the 13 Attributes of the Divine. You know them and we will explore them again at Passover. The Lord is G-d, merciful and gracious, slow to anger and full of lovingkindness. This is the G-d of love, the opposite of the zealous, jealous G-d of war. BUT the verse doesn’t end there. It continues that G-d visits the sins of the parents on the children and the children’s children to the 3rd and 4th generation. How can that be? It would seem we are seeing it now in the very context I explored in my thesis.  

I don’t have the answers. But I do know this. In order for there to be forgiveness and reconciliation, prerequistes for peace, there needs to a sense of safety. At the moment, no one in Israel or Palestine feels safe. Whatever happens next I fear that there has been damage to the next two or three generations. On both sides. Full stop. I fear that something even worse will emerge after Hamas. I fear. I am sad, angry, disappointed. And yet, I find hope. Hope is in the Kibbutz Be’eri planting wheat again, Hope is in the volunteers rising to keep Israel’s rich agricultural industry going. Hope is in people making breakfasts for soldiers, providing protective gear, stepping up- in all sorts of unimaginable ways. Hope is providing help for those suffering from PTSD and trauma, because make no mistake this is trauma. And hope is finding people who continue to work for peace. 

God is a God o War? I am not so sure. People are people of peace or war. Ecclesiastes teachs that there is a time for everything. A time for peace and a time for war. I pray it is not too late. I will continue to work for peace as part of Yuval’s legacy. 

So the Israelites are safe on the other side and they are singing,  

In the Hagaddah  we learn a teaching from the Talmud. As we are spilling out a drop of wine one for each plague, : 

“The angels rejoicing and breaking out into song (Isaiah 6: 3) when the Israelites are finally safe. The Holy One isn’t pleased with their rejoicing. “My creatures, the work of my hands, the Egyptians are drowning in the sea and you sing songs.” This indicates that God does not rejoice over the downfall of the wicked. Rabbi Elazar said that this is how the matter is to be understood: Indeed, God Himself does not rejoice over the downfall of the wicked, but He causes others to rejoice. (Megilah 10b) 

 I am not alone in wrestling with this verse that God is a God of war. Rabbi Evan Schultz also wrestled with this text:
“As they continue on, however, as they get closer to the shores of the sea, the Israelites shift their song. They begin sing of God’s love and compassion. How can God be both? Which one is it? Is God a God of war or a God of love? Perhaps it is both. In so many ways we humans emulate the divine. There are times, most painfully, as we see right now, that we are people of war. I know, too, that we are, and have the potential to be, people of love and compassion.” 

May we be like G-d, finding love and compassion for all God’s creatures. For Israelis and Palestinians. For all those grieving, whether recently or in times gone by.  

 May we hear the words of Joanne Fink, the poet artist who said this week: 

Grant me the courage to enter
the waters of the unknown,
and the faith to believe You will always provide a path.
When I am stumbling across the desert of uncertainty and despair,
help me remember that You accompanied my ancestors
as they journeyed from slavery to freedom—
and that You are with me, too. 

OPEN MY EYES
to the beauty and miracles surrounding me. 

OPEN MY LIPS
that my soul may burst forth in song. 

OPEN MY HEART
that the notes I sing may become part
of the canvas of my prayer. 

Amen. 

Some links to Mi Chamocha:

Nefesh Mounttain:

Ashira L’adonai: Formal

Debbie Firedman:

“And when your children ask you, ‘What do you mean by this rite?’ 

you shall say, ‘It is the Passover sacrifice to YHVH, who passed over the houses of the Israelites in Egypt when smiting the Egyptians, but saved our houses.’ (Exodus 12:26-27) 

The earliest “seder” was simple. It was lamb, unleavened bread (matzah)and bitter herbs. That’s it. No two entrees. No matzah ball soup and giilte fish. No competition on who can make the tastiest kosher for Passover dessert. It was designed to get children to ask this very question. “What do you mean…” 

In other parts of the Exodus there are other answers. We know this language. It is part of the Hagadah, the telling of the story of the Exodus from Egypt, the story of our people’s very beginning.  

Ms nishtanah…why is this night different? It is because of what G-d did for ME when I went forth from Egypt.” But really was I there? The midrash would say yes. We all participated in the Exodus, even those not yet born. We all walked through the Sea of Rees. We all stood at Sinai, 

But how do we tell the story?  

Once upon a time…no that’s not quite right. This story is not yet over…we are still completing it and all o the story does not end happlily ever after. 

The Hagaddah itself gives us clues: 

“In every generation one is obligated to see oneself as one who personally went out from Egypt. Just as it says, ‘You shall tell your child on that very day: “It is because of this that God did for me when I went out from Egypt.” ’ (Exodus 13:8) Not only were our ancestors redeemed by the Holy One, but even we were redeemed with them. Just as it says: ‘God took us out from there in order to bring us and to give us the land God swore to our ancestors.’ ” (Deuteronomy 6:23) 

 Rabbi Shmuly Yanklowitz , in article for the Jewish Journal said: “Such spiritual work is never simple. The esteemed 20th-century Musar teacher Rabbi Shlomo Wolbe explains: “We see ourselves in the other, as if every person we encounter is simply a mirror in which we see ourselves! … [W]e have not yet freed ourselves from the self-centered perspective to see that the other is not identified with us…. [I]t is incumbent upon us to focus on the way the other differs from us and see that which the other needs, not that which we need.” (Alei Shur 2:6) Rav Wolbe teaches powerfully here that to understand the other, we must transcend the self. While it is difficult to understand another’s trauma and impossible to grasp the extent of another’s suffering, we can create the spaces to listen, to cultivate empathy and respond to others’ needs. We must go beyond the notion that we tend only to our own needs — that is not ethical Judaism. Rather, it is essential that we tend to the needs of the other in our midst.” 

 Each of us is to see ourselves as though we came out of the narrow places because that’s what Mitzrayim, Egypt means. Each of us have had narrow places we have been in. Telling those stories, both the ancient Exodus from Egypt and our own stories is what this parsha is about. 

How do we do that? Some people compile their own hagaddah. Some people write their own cookbook and tell family history through the recipes. Some people write an ethical will, which we talked about a few weeks ago.  Some people sit around the Passover table during the meal itself and tell these very stories.  

And some people write a memoir. Memoirs are an important style of writing. There are fill in the blank books to help you with this. Bruce Feiler provides a template in the extras of his book, Life is in the Transitions. The same format he used with his own dad. One of my favorite quotes is “Everybody has a story, and not always the story the listener or teller expects to hear. The sharing is what brings out the surprise.”  

There are other online guides. Gareth used to teach a class at Gail Borden. Others may at various other places. 

Here are some suggested seven steps from one online source: 

1. Narrow your focus 
2. Include more than just your story
3. Tell the truth 
4. Put your readers in your shoes
5. Employ elements of fiction 
6. Create an emotional journey 
7. Showcase your personal growth 

https://thewritelife.com/how-to-write-a-memoir/  

What is the story we want to tell our children? And what is the story our kids want to hear. One in the congregation this Shabbat said, “What are the tips that you can give us to get through our B’nei Mitzvah.” Another said, “What mistakes did you make? What did you learn from them and how do we avoid them.” Thos mistakes may be talking about how we got out of our own narrow spaces, our own Mitzrayim. Is it any wonder as we sit her on a cold Shabbat morning when the spring holiday of Passover seems so very far away that Passover is the most celebrated of American Jewish holidays? It is all about the story telling!  

This weekend marks the 100th day of Israelis in captivity in Gaza. There are still 129 people being held. Let me perfectly clear, the attacks on Israel on October 7, 2023 were reprehensible. They need to be condemned in the strongest possible terms. We were asked to particularly keep Hersh Goldberg in mind, so as I kneaded my challah this week that is who I was thinking of. #bring_hersh_home. Bring them all home now.  

This week we will be treated by a presentation of Alden Solovy, a poet who writes as he calls them poem prayers. He was here at CKI last year on Tisha B’av. I read his material regularly because I would call him a modern day piyutan, a poet who writes liturgical prayers. For example…You need a prayer for healing of breast cancer? He’s got one. You need something about fetal demise? He’s got one. Almost any modern day crisis? He’s got one.  

But he discovered early in the war he had no words. What happens when a poet has not words? Perhaps we will find out. And then he did find some. Here is one example fitting for today: 

The Court of the Captives
One day,
The court of the captives
Will convene
Before the halls of power.
They will bring
Their torment and suffering
As evidence against us,
As evidence of our failure
To protect them,
As evidence of our failure
To redeem them
With speed and urgency. 

On that day,
The court of the innocent
At the gates of heaven
Will join the chorus –
The newly murdered,
Babies and dreamers,
Parents and children –
Bringing their blood
As evidence against us,
As evidence of our failure
To protect them,
As evidence of our failure
To secure our land and our people. 

On that day,
The court of the captives,
And the court of the innocent,
Will minister to each other
At the gates of righteousness,
Both in heaven
And on earth,
Offering torn cloth
Soaked in tears
To bind their wounds,
To bless the living,
And to console the lost. 

Today,
Yes, today,
The court of the captives
And the court of the innocent in heaven
Convene,
Arraying the charges
Before us,
And wait,
Still wait,
For us to answer. 

© 2023 Alden Solovy and ToBendLight  

This week we learn from our parsha: 

Pharaoh hardened his heart. Pharaoh was stubborn. 

Our parsha today is set up for us to like the Israelites and dislike Pharaoh. After all we want Pharaoh to release the Israelites. As I type this I want to scream and I want Hamas to release the hostages.  

We see Pharaoh’s stubbornness as negative. G-d apparently does too because in the later plagues, it is G-d who hardens Pharaoh’s heart. That makes many ask the question what happened to free will? In genesis  

What does it mean to be stubborn. The dictionary definition says:  

having or showing dogged determination not to change one’s attitude or position on something, especially in spite of good arguments or reasons to do so. 

“a stubborn refusal to learn from experience” 

 The word stubborn implies a negative trait. Someone’s inability to give in, to change his or her ways, rules, ideals, beliefs. Dogged determination is good. It is how I got through rabbinical school. It is what enables me to run a marathon. Persistence is good. 

As a leader, Pharaoh seems to do two things. He is interested in protecting his power. And he lacks an empathy for his people. Any of his people. When he turns around and goes back inside his palace, he does not seem to care about his people not having clean drinking water. As was pointed out in Torah Study this week, sadly. we can see echos of this in modern day leaders.  

There are many styles of leadership, and many qualities good leaders should possess.  

What qualities do good leaders possess: We could brainstorm that list:  

• Dynamic 
• Courage 
•  Knowledgable and smart 
• Life long learner 
•  Visionary 
•  Good listener 
•  Good Communicator  
• Lifelong learner 
•  Sense of humor 
•  Integrity 
•  Team player 
•  Accountable 
•  Respectful 
•  Solicits opinions 
•  Humble 
•  Sympathetic 
•  Empathetic and compassionate 
• Kind 
•  Honest 
• Authentic 
• Self-aware 
• Creative 
• Flexible 
• Accountable 
• Resilient 

Many of those characteristics are words you chose as your word last week to represent your year. (See last week’s post) They are also on the list from Vistage of leadership competencies.
But being stubborn is not on the list! 

https://www.vistage.com/research-center/personal-development/leadership-competencies/20230725-what-makes-a-great-leader/?ls=Google%20AdWords&lsd=DEPT_PMAX_Google_Performance%20Max_Prospecting_Member_NAMER_US_SQL_CPL_Test_pMax&utm_source=google&utm_campaign=acqmember&utm_medium=cpc&gad_source=1&gclid=Cj0KCQiAhomtBhDgARIsABcaYylHlnemio4umzfecgLs_Lts_F8yQG80wPeaD80C2_iDTfp_-dQO5yQaAshKEALw_wcB 

One of the older Junior Girl Scout Handbooks had several leadership styles. Each of you gathered today may be one of them, or a combination of them. Each of the leaders we see in today’s parsha, Moses, Aaron, Pharaoh, G-d also may fit these patterns: 

Director: Gives very good direction and makes sure everyone does his or her job. Makes certain that rules are clear and that everyone is expected to follow them. 

Coach: Uses a style that provides both direction and supervision but encourages the involvement of everyone. Will explain the work that lies ahead, discuss decisions and answer questions. 

Supporter: Works with other members of the group to set goals and list steps to achieve the goals. Encourages everyone to make decisions and gives each member the help they need. 

Delegator: Gives everyone a share of the work. Lets group members make decisions and take on as much responsibility as they can handle. Is there to answer questions, but wants them to take as much responsibility for their actions as possible
(Previous definitions from the The Guide for Junior Girl Scout Leaders, copyright 1994, New York, New York 

Convener: Calls the group together, inspires, organizes 

But again, stubborn is not on the list.  

I believe I have a collaborative leadership style. I may have an opinion about what should be done but I try to bring people along with me. That’s why the decision today was made in conjunction with Robin and Gene for example. It’s why when there are halachic issues such as instrumentation on Shabbat on interfaith burials at Jewish cemeteries or even the use of Zoom, I write a teshuva, a responsa that I vet with other rabbis, at least three then I submit to the ritual committee for further discussion and opinions. That is one style of leadership. 

Friday night I read a part of a charming children’s book, Snow in Jerusalem. It is a PJ Library offering and it features a Jewish boy and a Muslim boy both of whom live in the Old City of Jerusalem. Both of them are feeding a cat. Both of them think that the cat is their own. One of the best parts of PJ Library is the supplementary material that comes with it. In addition to some material on treating animals well which is a Jewish value, and information about Jerusalem, Yirushaliym, it contains a useful page on helping children deal with conflict. Perhaps this book and these our children will be the ones to find solutions to peace. Both our traditions pray for it, hope for it, demand it.  

Later in the weekend I was studying the Song at the Sea with my Chai School students. I was reminded that while G-d is depicted as a G-d of war and G-d drowns the Egyptian chariots (and yes the horses), there is a midrash that teaches about the angels rejoicing and breaking out into song when the Israelites are finally safe. G-d isn’t pleased. With their rejoicing. “My creatures are drowning in the sea and you sing songs”. 

What is happening in Gaza is tragic. There will be another two generations that will live in fear and something even worse than Hamas may emerge. .” 

Sometimes I think there is no way that I can solve the crisis in the Middle East. I am just a small town rabbi. Then I think as a woman I do have the solution. So, here is my plea. It’s simple. Everybody. And I mean everybody. Put down your arms. Don’t be stubborn. Release the hostages. Now. Don’t be stubborn. Bring them home now. Don’t be stubborn. 

Heather ends many of her classes with the phase, “Make good choices.” Make good choices. Now. Make peace now. Work for peace. Now. Please. 

Any of you make New Year’s Resolutions? How’s that going for you on January 6th, almost one week into the new year? 

Today’s portion contains an unforgettable scene. Moses, shepharding his father-in-law’s flock of sheep, sees something odd. A bush that is burning but is not consumed. It is not burning up. Why is this? What is going on? He is curious and instead of backing away or running away, he draws closer and hears a voice calling, “Moses, Moses!” “Hineini, Here am I.” Whose calling? Who’s there? That voice continues to call. 

“And [God] said, “Do not come closer! Remove your sandals from your feet, for the place on which you stand is holy ground!” and continued, “I am the God of your father’s [house]—the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God.” 

Later: 

“Moses said to God, “When I come to the Israelites and say to them, ‘The God of your fathers’ [house] has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is [God’s] name?’ what shall I say to them?”  

And God said to Moses, “Ehyeh-Asher-Ehyeh,” continuing, “Thus shall you say to the Israelites, ‘Ehyeh sent me to you.’” 

Vayikra…and He called is language that is sprinkled throughout the Torah.  

What does it mean to hear the voice of G-d? We have different understandings of that. For the Psalmist it was a powerful voice able to shatter ceders of Lebanon. For Elijah, it was a still small voice. Can we even hear it at all today? What does it mean to be called. 

As I have written before, “When I first thought I wanted to become a rabbi, I tried to talk about it in the language of call. After all, I grew up in Grand Rapids and I had friends who felt “called”. At that stage, people closest to me thought perhaps it was a mental health issue. That I was hearing voices (I was not) and the Jewish community at that stage was not comfortable with this language, having ceded it to Christianity. Often times in theology that there is a pendulum that swings and now it is more acceptable to talk about the rabbinate this way. But calling is not limited to professional clergy.” 

Each of us is called to do something. To be something. Each of us can hear that call. There is something that is uniquely ours to do, some unique role we play. Figuring out what that call might be adds meaning to our lives.  

Teachers often describe their work as a calling. Doctors, nurses, first responders. But not just those. Rabbi Jeffry Salkin in his book Being God’s Partner that I describe as What Color is Your Parachute for Jews tells this story:  

“The boss of the moving crew was a delightful, crusty gentleman, a dead ringer for Willie Nelson. I had never met anyone so enthusiastic about his or her work, and I asked him the source of that enthusiasm.  

“‘Well, you see, I’m a religious man,’ he answered, ‘and my work is part of my religious mission.’  

“‘What do you mean?’ I asked.  

“‘Well, it’s like this. Moving is hard for most people. It’s a very vulnerable time for them. People are nervous about going to a new community, and about having strangers pack their most precious possessions. So, I think God wants me to treat my customers with love and to make them feel that I care about their things and their life. God wants me to help make their changes go smoothly. If I can be happy about it, maybe they can be, too’” (Jeffrey Salkin, Being God’s Partner). 

Frederick Buechner, of blessed memory,  said that “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”  

Our calling may be our work. It may be something as Buechner suggests we are passionate about whether that is paid work, our vocation or our avocation, those things that we do as our volunteer work. It maybe working on hunger and homelessness issues. It may be working with kids in Girl Scouts or mentoring. It may be literacy work. The possibilities are endless. Many of us in this group are retired. We might not want to be defined by our “work.”  

Yesterday we began a process of listening. It is holy work. It is wholy work.  

In my weighwatchers group, now WW,  we have been asked for the last several years to choose a word to represent our year. Last year my word was “Hineini. Here am I.” Just like Moses said in today’s portion. “I am here. I am still here.” This year I surprisingly chose a different word. 

It seems to me that this is setting an intention, a kavanah or the year. 

Kavanah is the Hebrew word for direction, intention, or purpose. It is often used in connection with prayer. I describe kavanah as the words behind the words as opposed to keva which is the fixed order or structure of the service. But it also is the intention when doing a ritual act. How do you intend your spirit, your neshama, when you light shabbat candles, for example. It is not supposed to be rote or mechanical.  

Abraham Joshua Heschel, whose birthday was Jan. 11, we will talk more about him next week, in his classic work God in Search of Man, explains that performing a mitzvah without proper kavanah is inadequate because while it might have a positive effect on the world, it leaves the doer of the mitzvah unaffected. The purpose of Jewish practice, he writes, is transformation of the soul. 

“A moral deed unwittingly done may be relevant to the world because of the aid it renders unto others. Yet a deed without devotion, for all its effects on the lives of others, will leave the life of the doer unaffected. The true goal for man is to be what he does.” 

He also said as quoted in Gates of Prayer: “Prayer cannot bring water to a parched field, nor mend a broken bridge, nor rebuild a ruined city, but prayer can water an arid soul, mend a broken heart and rebuild a weakened will.” 

So, what then is our intention for the year? Your personal intention for the year. What if we just choose one word, rather than making a new year’s resolution. There is a new book, One Word that will change your life. It recommends three steps to finding your unique word and living it out. That is a calling.  

Here is my summary: 

Step One: Look in. Find some quiet time. No phone. No television. No barking dog. This might be early in the morning before everyone else gets up or late at night or out on a walk by yourself. It is about preparing your heart. (We sing this verse) 

Ask yourself, what do I need, what is in my way, what needs to go. 

Step Teo, Look up 

Just like Moses, G-d has a place in this. What is G-d calling you to do.  Each of us, created in the image of the divine, with that divine spark has a unique place in this world, a unique thing that we can contribute. Part of the challenge of finding our word is slowing down enough to see the burning bush, to discover what our contribution might be. Moses’s one word might have been Hineini. I am here. Or it might have been Go!  

G-d too has a word. G-d reveals G-d’s name here. Eyehe asher Eyeye. The Hebrew is uncertain but something like I will be what I will be. I am what I am. I will be. What will you be? How will you incorporate G-d in your life? 

Finding your word is more than finding a good word, it’s a G-d word, just like Moses at the burning bush. Here’s the trick. I can’t tell you where or when you will receive it. Sometimes, most times? It comes as a surprise. You might be out for a walk. You might be going to sleep at night, or getting up in the morning. You might be journaling. You might be watching TV. You might discover a burning bush! It may feel like that when you find it.  

Step Three: Look Out 

Once you find, discover your word Then it is about living out your word. Suddenly you may see it everywhere. Tell your friends, your family, your co-workers what your word it. Put it up in places in your house to remind you. Put it on your computer. Make a One Word file. Soon you will see it everywhere and it will provide a focus, an intention. It may even change your life.  

Last night we began to brainstorm our words: 

Family, independence, heal, kindness, empathy, compassion, joy, resilience 

Anyone know immediately what your word might be? 

We added peace, smile, grow, thrive, pay attention, determination, respect, listen, learn, responsibility. (We may have forgotten one or two! Feel free to tell me in the comments your word.) 

May this be year of hearing, of focus, of kavanah, of growth.  

Last week I got the call I knew would come but was still unprepared. Alyn Rovin, now of blessed memory died. He was so instrumental in my life that I quickly rescheduled my own medical procedure, covered the staffing of the blood drive and found flights that would work to Florida. I don’t have the luxury to do this often but as I told people who Alyn was every single person said, “yes, you have to go.”  I wasn’t even “doing the funeral” I was just going to lend support to his kids, also longtime friends. As it turned out, they hoped I would do a eulogy. What follows is essentially what I said:

You’ve  heard some of the biographical bullet points but let me fill in some of the stories  I’m not here as a rabbi today, but merely as an almost life long friend.  

Quite simply, Alyn was a mensch. He was a class act.  

He was a sea scout, and that motto of “Be Prepared” and leave a place better than you found it, were ideals he lived by.  

When my husband and I were about to be married, we went to tell Alyn and Nancy the good news. We weren’t sure how they would respond. Nancy was digging in the upper garden. She wiped off her muddy hands and said, “Alyn, go get the champagne.”. I tell this story every wedding talk I do because it teaches us that you should always be prepared. Always have a bottle of bubbly, alcoholic or not, to toast the big moments or the little moments, day by day by day. They were prepared. Always prepared. And yes, I have a bottle on ice in Illinois, just waiting for the right moment.  

Another example of his being prepared. The year before we got married, we wanted to host a Shabbat dinner before Thanksgiving, a Friendgiving before it was even called that. I called Alyn in advance to carve the turkey. He came prepared, with his own knives. I think my soon to be husband was a little chagrinned and a little crestfallen.A fter all, he could carve a turkey. But Alyn came prepared.  

Alyn and Nancy really wanted to make the world a better place. They were at the March on Washington and heard King give his famous  “I have a dream speech.” Somehow, it seems beshert that we are here today as we approach both Martin Luther King, junior’s and Abraham Joshua Heschel’s birthdays. It was Heschel that said his feet were praying when he marched with King.  That was certainly true of Alyn. Wherever he went, his feet were praying. And he went lots of places. Wherever he went he brought his respect, his desire to learn, and his unique sense of humor. They were in the first group of Peace Corp volunteers, making life long friends in Malaysia. They always marked John F. Kennedy’s yahrzeit. And there were seemingly little ways that they made the world a better place. Like taking care of the first solar ner tamid, the eternal light, anywhere in the country. Alyn used his electrical engineering background to craft something so unquie that had been a vision of Rabbi Everett Gendler, also of blessed memory, who would remind people that the sun is the original ner tamid. It should never go out. Alyn was the president of Temple Emanuel of the Merrimack Valley. He and Everett had a special bond as rabbi and president. They would have breakfast every Friday and that relationship and those discussions were important to both of them. I learned much about the roles of the rabbi and the-president by listening to Alyn. I learned much about business too. He had much to teach, much to model and much to mentor. Especially for women under his tutelage. Whether that was physics to the girls in Maylasia or women on his staff at Polaroid Or me. (And who else could you call in the middle of dinner at the Waldorf Astoria,  if the restaurant had a tip line for the maitre de, the sommelier and the waiter? What was I supposed to do with that on a business trip to New York?I figured only Alyn would know! And of course, he did. 

Most Sundays after Nancy and I would finish teaching religious school, the staff would go out to eat. We loved trying new restaurants and we were especially fond of Amici in Billerica where we were first introduced to tiramisu and Yankee Cajun where Alyn ordered Gerstermeiner to go with the spicy food. And of course, there were many lovely meals in that screened in porch in Carlisle of Malaysian hot pots and swimming in the pool.  

Entertaining was something they did seemingly with ease. Whether it was a Shabbat dinner, a pool party, or seders with lots of singing, rhythm instruments and of course gathering around the grand piano to sing every song from Fiddler. And I remember fondly clarinet and piano klezmer duets. Music was so integral—classic. Klezmer, Handels messiah or Peter Paul and Mary. How many Peter Paul and Mary concerts did we go to together? I can imagine that those duets are continuing. If Alyn can find his clarinet.  

Lifecycle events, Kailah’s Bat Mitzvah, my husband’s and my wedding where Alyn was a ketubah signer that still  hangs over our bed. Nancy famously siad that morning, the irst day of spring, that the snowflakes were just daisy petals from heaven. Maybe that will be true tomorrow morning too as i head into more snow in Chicagoland. Sarah’s naming. Kailah and Marc’s wedding and dancing to lots of Sinatra. But there was one I didn’t attend and that one was very special. Olivia’s bat mitzvah where the requirement in this very congregation aa explained to me was to chant the Torah as well as do the aliyah blessing. He didn’t want to disappoint Olivia and so he mastered that skill sitting at my dining room table Oh, how proud he was of you. And I was so proud of him. My ordination. There were few who thought I could become a rabbi. Alyn was quite sure I could. He was prepared, present and invested for all of those. 

At some point they moved to Acton and I did a house dedication nailing up the mezuzah. I still use that outline. But really, they wanted to be close to the grandkids. So they sold the place in the keys and moved here. They loved picnics and going to all of your sporting events soccer, swim meets, track. No call was complete without a rundown of what the grandchildren were doing. He was interested in everything and everyone. 

That included me. In the last couple of years, I received a diagnosis of multiple myeloma, one of the many issues that plagued Alyn, too. I knew he was on dialysis and had a sense of how draining that can be. But I somehow had missed this piece. He would call while he was on dialysis and I would drive to or from treatments. I think dialysis was boring and maybe lonely. We would swap treatment plans and side effects. He was amazing and up on all the research.  

I got through rabbinical school on musical theater lyrics. One that seems particularly apt is one from Les Mis. Alyn and Nancy attended my daughter’s high school production of Les Mis and were amazed that there was a student conductor. These words seem to appropriate for today. 

There’s a grief that can’t be spoken
There’s a pain goes on and on
Empty chairs at empty tables
Now my friends are dead and gone 

Here they talked of revolution
Here it was they lit the flame
Here they sang about tomorrow
And tomorrow never came 

From the table in the corner
They could see a world reborn
And they rose with voices ringing
And I can hear them now! 

The very words that they had sung
Became their last communion
On this lonely barricade
At dawn 

Oh my friends, my friends forgive me
That I live and you are gone
There’s a grief that can’t be spoken
There’s a pain goes on and on 

Phantom faces at the window
Phantom shadows on the floor
Empty chairs at empty tables
Where my friends will meet no more
Lyrics by Alain Boublil

 He really cared about everyone. He was always prepared. That light he guarded will never go out. He was a mensch. The world is a better place because he was here. But we are not done yet. There is a line from Pirke Avot, “Ours is not to finish the task. Neither are we free to ignore it.” Alyn, and Nancy, set the bar high, accomplished much but did not finish the task. Our task then is to continue to make the world a better place.  
There are many many stories. Make sure you tell them to Fern, to Josh and Peggy, Olivia and Asher, Kailah and Marc, Maddox and Mason. That’s how we keep the memory of Alyn alive.

Many times there emerges a person, or in this care several people who are the primary caregivers. I heard the story first from Kailah in her initial call and later at dinner last ngiht. The pulminologistt said that people don’t generally live for five years on dialysis. I believe that the rabbis of the Talmud had it right, that the body is a finely balanced network . But what held him together was the love and the support from all of you. He lived for his family. He loved his family, And you so clearly loved him, So I offer you this:

A Prayer for the Caregiver 

Unknown and often unnoticed, you are a hero nonetheless
For your love and sacrifice is God at his best.
You walk by faith in the darkness of the great unknown.
Your courage, even in weakness gives life to your beloved.
You hold shaking hands and provide the ultimate care:
Your presence, the knowing, that you are simply there.
You rise to face the giant of disease and despair.
It is your finest hour, though you may be unaware.
You are resilient, amazing, and beauty unexcelled,
You are the caregiver and you have done well! 

Bruce McIntyre