“You are what you eat…” Do you eat to live or live to eat? Much of our time in modern America is spent talking about what to eat, when to eat, where to eat. Worrying about what we are going to have for dinner.

And then there is all the conflicting nutritional information. Should you try the keto diet? The grapefruit diet? Apple cider vinegar? Eggs? Red wine? Coffee? This week we learned that tea may or may not be bad for you.

According to a 2017 study the most popular diets are the Atkins Diet, Zone Diet, Keto Diet, Vegetarian Diet, Vegan Diet, Weight Watchers, South Beach, Raw Food , and the Mediterranean diet. Which is right for you?

Judaism has much to say about food too. It elevates it. We celebrate with it. We turn food into symbols. Just think about the upcoming Passover. Bitter herbs, salt water, karpas, (parsley), charoset, all are symbols. Even the matzah itself. Especially the matzah itself.

Let all who are hungry come and eat…this is the bread of affliction, lechem oni, the poor bread.

This week in the parsha we learn more about keeping kosher. On the surface it would seem nonsensical. When I was in 7^th grade Hebrew School, I learned that keeping kosher was an outmoded form of Judaism. Then we were taken to an antiquated deli and taught about blue soap and red soap. There must be someone who still kept kosher or there wouldn’t be red soap and blue. It wasn’t until college that I knew anyone who kept kosher.

One year when I was teaching 8^th grade, I had a class that was really tough, as that age can be. They were not motivated at all to be there. Eventually we went to visit all of the professionals in the building asking them how they thought about their Judaism every day. I was surprised as we visited the secretary and janitor and the ed director and the cantor and the rabbi. No one thought about their Judaism. It just was. In desperation and exasperation, I said to the rabbi, “But you daven every day, must think about Judaism.” And he said, no. And then I asked about kashrut, that must make him think about Judaism every day. Now remember, this was the 90s. His answer, his wife took care of that.

Why these outdated laws about food? Why does it matter?

• Some argue that it is a commandment, so it is our obligation to just do it. There doesn’t have to be an underlying reason.
• Some argue that it was about food safety. If you don’t eat pork you can’t get trichinosis. Many are allergic to seafood. Creepy crawly things, well, just yuck.

There are a couple of other arguments. Because we’re Jews; we argue about everything:

• We are told that we as humans are sentient beings. We think. We feel. Keeping kosher is a way to be mindful. It provides a kavanah, an intentionality. It keeps us aware of our food. It reminds us that there is something higher out there. That we are dependent on others and G-d. It is a partnership.
• It turns meals into holy time. Time set apart. It slows us down. That’s why we say a blessing before we eat…and after.
• Keeping kosher, like mezuzah, Shabbat and circumcision, keeps us separate in another way as well—keeps us separate from others. It is harder to mingle with your non-Jewish neighbor if you are keeping kosher.

For me, it is about awareness. Mindfulness. And about welcoming anyone who may wish to eat in my home. And by extension, the synagogue. That was my initial reason for keeping kosher in college. So anyone could eat in my dorm room. And I still have those first plates, still with nail polish on the bottom marking the meat and dairy ones.

But that is not true for everyone. Kosher Nation, published in 2010 by Sue Fishkoff, we learn about the growing trend of keeping kosher. Here is the review:

“Kosher? That means the rabbi blessed it, right? Not exactly. In this captivating account of a Bible-based practice that has grown into a multibillions-dollar industry, journalist Sue Fishkoff travels throughout America and to Shanghai, China, to find out who eats kosher food, who produces it, who is responsible for its certification, and how this fascinating world continues to evolve. She explains why 86 percent of the 11.2 million Americans who regularly buy kosher food are not observant Jews—they are Muslims, Seventh-day Adventists, vegetarians, people with food allergies, and consumers who pay top dollar for food they believe “answers to a higher authority.””

So 86% of people buying kosher food aren’t observant Jews. What’s going on here? Muslims are looking to make sure there is no pork. So are the Seventh Day Adventists. Vegetarians are making sure there is no meat. When the doctors thought that maybe Sarah was lactose intolerant, we were told to purchase only parve food, food that would not include any dairy products and would be labeled as such. And then they added, “You already know about that.”

In this modern world, there are lots of reasons to focus on the spiritual aspects of food. Did you know that we are supposed to feed our animals first, before we sit down to eat? (Berachot 40a)

How many of you ate at least one meal in your car this week. I know I did. But Judaism tells us that we should not eat while we are standing. There are many explanations of this, https://judaism.stackexchange.com/questions/15580/forbidden-to-eat-while-standing-up

These days, there is much we can focus on about spirituality and eating. There is a whole movement toward ethical kashrut—across all the spectrum of Jewish religious observance. That modern day kashrut that may include considerations of

• The ethical treatment of both farm workers and animals
• Using fair trade when appropriate. That’s why I really only drink fair trade, kosher coffee and try to require it here in our kosher kitchen.
• Hosting a zero waste Passover
• What about the packaging we use? Or the dishes and the table clothes? What do we do with compostable waste?
• Making sure we really “let all who are hungry come and eat” be that our work with the Elgin Cooperative Ministries and the upcoming Soup Kettles, the Community Garden where we literally leave the corners of our field
• Exploring vegetarian and vegan options
• Recognizing the changing nature of wheat and providing gluten free options

What I have prepared for you to study are five different rabbis’ opinions about kashrut and why they are important to him (or her!). Divide yourselves into two groups and see what resonates. (The Source material follows)

Things we learned:

Rabbi Richard Israel: Kashrut makes me confront important questions about the ethical issues around food. That turns eating into a holy experience. That makes me holy, each of us holy.

Rabbi Harold Kushner: G-d cares about me, and the choices I make. Choosing to keep kosher makes me a little less than divine. Choosing to eat kosher makes us holy.

Rabbi Donin: It gives us a little bit of control. A little bit of balance and a way to begin to understand the divine mind. That makes us holy.

Rabbi Yankovitz: We have an obligation to treat animals and workers ethically. We have a unique responsibility here. Kashrut helps us understand the spiritual potential that food has. The kosher laws have a unique charge to holiness.

Rabbi Ruth Sohn: Kashrut is a spiritual discipline that connects us to G-d and to our past, to our tradition. Kashrut is our unique path to holiness: “for you are a people consecrated to your God.

One last reason…it enables us to be grateful. For the soil. For the seeds. For the sun and rain. For the very food that nourishes and sustains us. And for G-d and our relationship with the divine. For this we give blessings.

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha’olam, hamotzi lechem min ha’aretz. Blessed are You, Lord, our G-d, Ruler of the Universe who brings forth bread from the earth.

Let all who are hungry come and eat, as we continue to prepare for Passover.

My Jewish Learning:
https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/keeping-kosher-contemporary-views/

Rabbi Richard Israel:

I find that whether I like it or not, kashrut brings me into contact with a series of rather important questions: What is my responsibility to the calf that I eat, or to the potato? Is the earth and the fullness thereof mine to do with as I will? What does it mean that a table should be an altar? Is eating, indeed, a devotional act? Does God really care whether I wait two or six hours before drinking milk after a meat meal? If kashrut makes me ask enough questions, often enough, I discover that its very provocative quality is one of its chief virtues for my religious life.

Rabbi Harold Kushner
Let’s go back to my hypothetical lunch with a friend. Watching me scan the menu, he may suspect me of thinking, “Oh, would I love to order the ham, but that mean old God won’t let me.” But in fact, what is probably going through my mind at the moment is “Isn’t it incredible! Nearly five billion people on this planet, and God cares what I have for lunch!” And God cares how I earn and spend my money, and whom I sleep with, and what sort of language I use. (These are not descriptions of God’s emotional state, about which we can have no information, but a way of conveying the critical ethical significance of the choices I make.) What better way is there to invest every one of my daily choices with divine significance? There is nothing intrinsically wicked about eating pork or lobster, and there is nothing intrinsically moral about eating cheese or chicken instead. But what the Jewish way of life does by imposing rules on our eating, sleeping, and working habits is to take the most common and mundane activities and invest them with deeper meaning, turning every one of them into an occasion for obeying (or disobeying) God. If a gentile walks into a fast-food establishment and orders a cheeseburger, he is just having lunch. But if a Jew does the same thing, he is making a theological statement. He is declaring that he does not accept the rules of the Jewish dietary system as binding upon him. But heeded or violated, the rules lift the act of having lunch out of the ordinary and make it a religious matter. If you can do that to the process of eating, you have done something important.

Rabbi Hayim Halevy Donin
The faithful Jew observes the laws of kashrut not because he has become endeared of its specific details nor because it provides him with pleasure nor because he considers them good for his health nor because the Bible offers him clear-cut reasons, but because be regards them as Divine commandments and yields his will before the will of the Divine and to the disciplines imposed by his faith. In the words of our Sages, “A man ought not to say ‘I do not wish to eat of the flesh of the pig’ (i.e., because I don’t like it). Rather he should say, ‘I do wish to do these things, but my Father in Heaven has decreed otherwise.’”

Although “the benefit arising from the many inexplicable laws of God is in their practice, and not in the understanding of the motives” (Moses Mendelssohn), nevertheless the Jew never tires of pursuing his quest to fathom the Divine Mind and to ascertain the reasons that prompted the promulgation of God’s laws. For the man of faith is sure that reasons do exist for the Divine decrees even if they are concealed from him.

Rabbi Shmuly Yanklowitz, https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/ethical-kashrut/
The first act of food consumption in the Bible is also the Torah ’s first foray into ethics. God instructed Adam and Eve to eat from any tree but the Tree of Knowledge. The human inability to restrain desire led to the possibility of sin. The first human beings ate the forbidden fruit, and the need for ethical standards was born.

Since then, halacha (Jewish law) has functioned to make its adherents understand the spiritual potential that food can have in one’s life. By legislating various practices such as making berakhot (blessings) before and after eating food, distinguishing between dairy and meat meals, separating dishes, and drinking wine and eating bread on holidays, Jewish law highlights the significance of food in life.

In the first decade of the 21st century, a growing movement emerged focusing not only on ritual, but also on ethical kashrut . This movement emphasizes not only the traditional rules, but also takes into account issues such as animal treatment, workers conditions, and environmental impact, taking its cue from a number of supporting biblical sources:

How do these new “rules” of ethical kashrut relate to the traditional rituals, blessings, and separation of dishes? Many of those who observe kashrut believe that the values of ethical kashrut may have been the original intention for how religious food consumption was prescribed in the Torah. For others, these values are a positive expansion or evolution from the traditional rules. For still others, the contemporary values of ethical kashrut can replace the old, harder-to-understand rituals.

The Torah and other Jewish literature lend support for ethical kashrut initiatives. Nahmanides, a 13th century Spanish rabbi, argued (Leviticus 19:1) that if people consume food that is technically kosher from a ritual perspective but do not embrace the ethics that come along with consumption then they are naval birshut haTorah(despicable with the permission of the Torah). They have broken no formal kashrut prohibitions but their act is shameful, and they have not lived by the moral and ethical intentions of the Torah. Nahmanides is referring to eating in moderation but his value certainly lends to broad extension. Simply put: permissible consumption does not necessarily mean good consumption.

1.The Jewish community has already demonstrated immense success using money and power to build the kosher certification system. This infrastructure and model can just as easily be used for ethical certification and awareness.

2. As Jews, we have ownership and responsibility over the kashrut industry.

3. The laws of kashrut have a unique charge to pursue holiness. 

Rabbi Ruth Sohn https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/the-purpose-of-kashrut/
“You are what you eat’ the common expression goes. I sometimes think of this saying in relation to kashrut (that is, keeping kosher). What do the choices that we make about what we eat reveal about who we really are? Many Jews today view kashrut as an outdated vestige of ancient Israelite practice, expanded upon by rabbinic Judaism, bur no longer relevant to modern day life. ..However, the presentation of the prohibitions associated with kashrut in Parashat Re’eh challenges us to consider anew the purposes of kashrut. Deuteronomy 14 tells us what animals, fish, and birds we can and cannot eat. It instructs us not to boil a kid (a young goat) in its mother’s milk, an injunction that became the basis for the rabbinic separation between milk and meat (Deuteronomy 14:21; see also Exodus 23:19 and Exodus 34:26). While many Jews today believe the biblical prohibitions against certain meat and fish to be for health reasons, Parshat Re’eh makes no such claim. In fact, if this were the case, the explicit permission to give the stranger and the foreigner the foods we are forbidden to eat (Deuteronomy 14:21) would be frankly immoral. Rather, Parshat Re’eh, as the Torah does elsewhere, identifies the articulation of eating prohibitions strictly as part of the Israelites’ particular path to holiness: “for you are a people consecrated to your God Adonai” Deuteronomy 14:21). What is it about these prohibitions that can make us holy? Interestingly, the prohibited foods are identified as tamei … lachem–ritually impure “for you” (Deuteronomy 14:7, 8, 10). For this reason, it is perfectly acceptable for other people to eat them, just not for the people Israel.

A Spiritual Discipline

Traditional and modern commentators have offered various explanations as to why particular fish, poultry, and animals are considered tahor (“ritually pure”) and therefore acceptable to eat. But perhaps more important than the meaning of each of the details of the prohibitions is the simple fact that we are given a list of dos and don’ts that govern what we are to consume daily. According to the Torah, God asks that we abstain from eating certain foods, not because they are unhealthy or intrinsically problematic, but simply as an expression of our devotion. As with other chukim (laws that the rabbinic sages define as being without rational explanation), these prohibitions are like the requests of a beloved: we may not understand them, but we are, in essence, asked to follow them purely as an expression of our love. Daily, the observance of kashrut calls us back to a personal relationship with God. The laws of kashrut offer a Jewish spiritual discipline that is rooted in the concrete choices and details of daily life — to be practiced in an area that seems most “mundane.” In fact, part of the beauty of kashrut is that regardless of our age, personal interests, or geographic location, we all eat, and most of us do so several times a day. While we may sometimes choose to dine alone, eating is almost universally enjoyed as a social activity. A spiritual discipline around eating is one that carries the clear message that spirituality is about far more than what we do in synagogue and on holidays; it extends into every area of our lives, every single day.

Kashrut reminds us again and again that Jewish spirituality is inseparable from what one might term “physical.” It teaches us that Jewish spiritual practice is about taking the most ordinary of experiences — in all aspects of our lives — and transforming them into moments of meaning, moments of connection. Kashrut provides a model for doing just that, around issues of food preparation and eating. It’s time to cook dinner: What will we make, and how will we prepare it? Will we be driven by an empty stomach or considerations that extend beyond it as well? In these moments, kashrut can connect us to Jewish tradition, to other Jews, and to God. We are hungry and sit down for a meal, but before digging in, we recall that Jewish tradition offers us the practice of pausing for a blessing and a moment of gratitude. We may take this a step further and decide to put aside tzedakah regularly at dinnertime, as some of us try to do. This can be seen as a practice similar to the tithing performed in ancient times, as outlined in the verses immediately following the rules of kashrut in our Torah portion (Deuteronomy 14:22-29). Instead of just wolfing down our food and moving on to the next activity, we can learn from Jewish rituals to pause and turn the act of eating into a moment of heightened spiritual awareness.

Bringing Contemporary Concerns to Kashrut

Increasing numbers of Jews today are expanding their kashrut practice to incorporate additional ethical and environmental considerations. Was the food produced under conditions that respect persons and the environment? Were the workers who picked or prepared the food paid a living wage? Did the processes of production treat animals humanely? In addition to allowing these questions to influence our choices about what to eat, we can direct our tzedakah money to organizations that address these issues, like environmental and farmworker advocacy groups.

From the time of the Torah onward, Jewish tradition teaches us that the spiritual realm encompasses all of life. Kashrut and the other Jewish practices related to eating exemplify this teaching and extend beyond themselves: they stand as daily reminders to look for additional ways to turn the ordinary into moments of deeper connection and intentionality. Every moment has the potential to be one of connection. Through other mitzvot, such as the laws governing proper speech and interpersonal ethics, as well as through the less well-known but rich Jewish tradition of cultivating middot (personal qualities such as patience and generosity in judgment), we can seek to deepen our connections with each other and with God. A Jewish spiritual discipline around eating, practiced with intention, can set us on this course every day. “You are what you eat.” That is, what you choose to eat and how you choose to eat it says a lot about who you are and what kind of a life you are striving to achieve.

No man is an island entire of itself; every man
is a piece of the continent, a part of the main;
if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe
is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as
well as any manner of thy friends or of thine
own were; any man’s death diminishes me,
because I am involved in mankind.
And therefore never send to know for whom
the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

John Donne

Last night we were exhorted that “We are One.” I am always grateful to spend time with Pastor Nat Edmond. He is, bar none, the best preacher I have ever heard. Last night was no exception. Not only are we one, all created in the image of G-d, that alone would be enough, but African Americans and Jews have a similar history. We have worked together for decades. We have been partners to create a more just society. For all of us. Because we are all created b’tzelem elohim, in the image of G-d.

He is right. We have work to do. Lots of work. To create the type of society that we read about in Leviticus. My professor Dr. Rabbi Nehemia Polen used to explain the Book of Leviticus, which we begin to read today, as a reset button. It was G-d’s attempt to get the Israelites to draw close to G-d. To live with G-d. To bond with G-d. To be one with G-d. To repeat, to recreate the experience of the Israelites standing on the shores of the sea and the foot of Mount Sinai. Leviticus is all about sacrifice. Offerings. That’s how we draw close to G-d. The root of the word, sacrifice, Avodah, is the same as the word for work—Avodah. Make no mistake. Serving G-d is work. Hard work. Sacrifice. Creating the kind of society that G-d demands in Leviticus, is work. It is work to “Be holy, for I the Lord, your G-d am holy.

That work entails feeding the hungry, housing the homeless, clothing the naked. That work is the work of our community garden and our participation in Elgin Cooperative Ministry’s Soup Kettles. That work includes making sure that we welcome the widow, the orphan, the stranger, the most marginalized amongst us. That work means making sure that there is a seat at the table for everyone. Sometimes it means making that table longer. That work means making sure that the justice system is fair, neither favoring the rich or showing deference to the poor. That work means paying the wages of the laborer on time, every time. It is all in the book we are beginning today.

That lesson comes straight out of the Book of Leviticus, from the Holiness Code, Kedoshim, which commands us that we must “Love our neighbor as ourselves.” That’s why after Charleston, I called Pastor E. We had a long discussion about safety and security that day. That’s why yesterday I reached out to every Muslim leader I know. It is part of being in the covenant. It is part of doing G-d’s work. It is part of being one.

But we have another lesson today, also. Today is Shabbat Zachor, the Shabbat before Purim. We read three difficult verses. Today we are to remember not to forget—that is strong language, Amalek, to blot out Amalek’s name, to completely and utterly destroy him.

King Saul lost his kingship when he didn’t obey. When he had the opportunity to wipe out the King of the Amalekites, to kill the King of the Amalekites, he hesitated and he spared him.

Who were the Amalekites and why is the punishment so harsh? The Amalekites attacked the rear guard, the women, children and elderly—the most vulnerable, when the Israelites were fleeing Egypt.

There are many ways to look at this text. It is Judaism after all. Rabbi Irwin Huberman, my colleague in New York, asks this question:
“What were the elderly, the physically and mentally challenged, single mothers and parentless children doing back there alone in the first place?”  There is a fine line here-and we must take care not to blame the victims for their own tragedy-but let us consider, as members of a civilized society, “What is the responsibility of the strong and healthy to ensure that the weak and defenseless among us are protected?”

This is not to blame the victims but instead an opportunity to look at our responsibility and accountability. To the widow, the orphan, the stranger, to those with disabilities, who may not move as fast as the rest of the group, to those who are different, who may not look like us or talk like us, to those struggling with mental illness or substance abuse or….or….This is part of being in the covenant too! All are welcome here.

We read this portion this week because it is just before Purim. You see, Purim celebrates the victory of the Jews, of Queen Esther, over the wicked Haman—a descendent of Amalek. In every generation, we are to see that there is an Amalek. Some even see Hitler as an Amalek.

Yossi Klein Halevi wrote an important article detailing the fact that there are two kinds of Jews. Purim Jews and Passover Jews. I have talked about this before. I thought he had found the description of my own home. You see, Simon hates Purim. I always thought it was the chaos that ensues, but he posted an important article about the underside of the Purim story published by the Reform Movement. https://reformjudaism.org/jewish-holidays/purim/adult-look-less-savory-truths-purim?fbclid=IwAR1dqGhgOTRqbGSCBhLbw1YH69CcpX22lUlU0B77rRJkAhUW5_oi6I-Nc0k

Simon loves Passover. The food, the language, the expanded time to sit at dinner and discuss the issues of the day.

Yossi is teaching something different. Some Jews get the message of Purim—the world is a scary place. They are always out to get us. There are always Amalekitse. Be afraid. Be very afraid. And then there are Passover Jews, those who believe that we have to welcome the widow the orphan the strangers because we were strangers in the land of Egypt. We know what it is to be a slave.

I think there is a third way. I have said we need to have both philosophies at the same time. It is a both/and. A balancing act.

It is clear to me that we live in scary times. The events in Oak Creek, WI make that clear. The events in Charleston make that clear. The events in Charlottesville make that clear. The events in Pittsburgh make that clear. Sadly, and yet again, the events in Christchurch make that much more real.

Make no mistake. This is important. Today. Again. Sadly. Anti-semitism and white supremacy are on the rise. Hate groups and hate crimes are on the rise. Globally. The FBI and organizations like the ADL and Southern Poverty Law Center have statistics to go with that statement. I have ordered two books this week. One by Rabbi Evan Moffic and one by Deborah Lipstadt, both on anti-semitism.

But the response to events like that—or bombs reigning down in Tel Aviv in Tel Aviv this week, is not to lash out. The danger of the Purim story, is its apparent license to kill. To blot out Haman and all the Amalikites.

In 1994 Dr. Baruch Goldstein walked into the Cave of the Patriarchs, into Machpella, on Purim. He killed 29 Muslims in prayer. The Israeli government of the time immediately condemned the massacre, and responded by arresting followers of Meir Kahane, and criminalized his Kach party.

This is important. Today. Again. As we approach the upcoming election in Israel, the current prime minister has embraced the descendents of the Kahanists. It seems it may be the only way he can preserve his fragile coalition. At what price? Have we become Purim Jews alone?

Words matter. We have an obligation as Jews to call out racism and anti-semitism, Islmaphobia and anti-gay sentiment wherever we hear it. From our friends in a casual joke, in our government, whether it is on the right or the left.

This week I received this statement of the Conservative Movement:

“Words matter. The Torah teaches that God created the world through words. We remember as much in the daily prayers, “Praised is the One who spoke and the world came to be.” The responsibility rests with the words we choose whether we build or destroy worlds. And how we respond to the words of others matter. Words matter everywhere in the ongoing work of creation. A week does not go by when we don’t hear from Jewish kids in local public schools who are bullied for being Jewish or about a political or religious leader who spews hate. Living with the trauma of anti-Semitism is part of our complicated reality. How we talk about that, without being offensive, is a struggle we navigate even within the Jewish community.”

It went on to decry the words of Representative Omar and to decry death threats against her. Both/and. I decry the spray painting of the poster in the Brooklyn subway with anti-semitic graffiti. I decry the sentiments that led to the mass murder in Christchurch. Both/and.

All of this is a balancing act. How do remain warm and welcoming and protect our members? How do we assess what is a real threat when there have only been 5 shootings at Jewish institutions in 20 years? You are more at risk driving home from shul than sitting in our pews.

And yet, on a morning like this, our anxiety rises. The answer is in having policies and procedures that are well thought out and detailed. In practicing and drilling. In being, as the Boy Scouts and Girls Scouts would say, “Be Prepared.” At CKI we are, to the best of our ability. We have a safety and security committee. We have had ALICE training, fire and tornado drills. And we have a well established, deep partnership with the Elgin Police Department.

When we think about Amalek this morning I offer you these words of another professor at Hebrew College, Nehama Leibowitz: “Evidently the criterion of God-fearingness (yirat Elohim, awe of God)…may be measured by the attitude of the subject to the weak and the stranger. Where the fear/awe of God is lacking, the stranger who is homeless in a foreign land is liable to be murdered…In this context, Amalek is condemned for killing the weak and smiting the feeble because “he feared not God.”. This is evidently the reason why we were commanded to blot out the memory of Amalek, since they came and fell upon the defenseless and weary without any pretext whatsoever… “Amalek” against whom the Almighty declared eternal war is not any more an ethnic or racial concept, but is the archetype of the wanton aggressor who smites the weak and defenseless in every generation.”

This morning, I want to remember, not to forget the words of my friend and Muslim leader, Kiran Asani, in yesterday’s Daily Herald, “Our faith has to be stronger than our fear. Not just on Friday. Not just today. But especially on Friday. And especially today.”

This morning, I want to remember not to forget the unsung heroes. Today, I want to remember not to forget, the first responders who rush in. To places like Pratt in Aurora or to the Tree of Life Synagogue. I want to remember not to forget Pastor Jeff, who stood outside with me at our own vigil after Pittsburgh. I want to remember not to forget how the Muslim community rose after Pittsburgh and my colleagues all over the country who rose yesterday and spent their Friday afternoons at mosques. I want to remember not to forget organizations like the Community Crisis Center and Ecker and Food for Greater Elgin who do the work day in and day out of taking care of the most vulnerable. I want to remember not to forget the words of my partner and my friend, Pastor Nat Edmond who exhorts us that we have work to do. Soon. After Shabbat.

My reading before Kaddish:
We are one.
Created in the image of the One G-d.
We are one.
We stand.
We stand for the Amidah, the standing prayer.
We stand for Kaddish, the prayer that praises G-d for life.
For all life
We recite these words, when we lie down and when we rise up.
We stand.
We stand with school children. In Columbine, Sandy Hook and Parkland.
In the United States, in Norway and Brazil.
We stand with those in Charlottesville.
We stand with those in a Siek temple in Wisconsin
In a black church in Charleston
In the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh.
We stand with a McHenry County Sheriff’s family.
We stand with the family of Decynthia Clements.
We are taught, “To save one life is to save the world.”
They are taught, “To save one life is to save the world.”
So we stand.
Still we stand.
Together.
Tonight
We stand with those in mosques around the world.
In Christchurch and in Elgin.
We are one.
We stand.
Together as one.

Part B. My sermon
Good morning. What a great morning at CKI. Very often I joke during Pesuki D’zimra that it is the men and Margaret. Last week I switched sides because all the men were on one side and all the women were on the other side. But look at us today!

What we are doing this morning at CKI is not really new. We have had mixed seating since Walter and Adeline Kohlhagen integrated the seating back in the 50s. The way I got the story, when they moved from Connecticut so Walter could be the head engineer at the Elgin Watch Factory, he didn’t want to join CKI if he couldn’t sit with his wife. Adeline said, “Come sit with me in the women’s section” and that ended the separation. Simon called her CKI’s own Rosa Parks. We’ve had women reading from the Torah since Blossom Wohl had the first aliyah—we think that was 1960. (Heads from old timers nodding)

We stand on the shoulders of women like Blossom and Adeline.

For me, this service is personal. I did have a Bat Mitzvah. It was a Friday night and in the Reform Movement we read Torah on Friday night. I loved reading Torah. Being close to those ancient words. Between my Bat Mitzvah and my Confirmation, we changed from the old Union Prayer Book to Gates of Prayer—and with it came my first introduction to non-gendered language for G-d as we were encouraged by the rabbi to write our own prayers. In college I was active in Hillel and was asked to read Torah for Jewish Women’s Week. Again it would be on a Friday night—and the more traditional members had never seen Torah read at night. They objected vehemently. The compromise was to read Torah from the scroll with the blessing for Torah study and not an aliyah blessing. I remember being hurt and angry. It didn’t feel like really reading. My introduction to Jewish feminism, small f, began. In college I spent junior year in Israel. After being violently attacked, I was told by a rabbi, a youth group advisor at the yeshiva I was studying at that it was G-d telling me I was a woman and couldn’t be a rabbi. I was crushed and confused.

In 1988, the year Simon and I were married, my college roommate who was living in Israel at the time, joined a small group of women for a prayer service on Rosh Hodesh at Chanukah at the Western Wall, the Kotel. They were rededicating themselves to women’s prayer. That service gave birth to the group, Women of the Wall which we are celebrating today.

Before 1967 and the liberation of the Western Wall by the paratroopers, women and men davenning at the Wall was never an issue. There are photographs and drawings of men and women standing together, shoulder to shoulder praying from the early 1800s through 1948. After the liberation of Jerusalem—there is a whole other sermon in that!—Jews began having organized religious services at the Wall under the auspices of the Western Wall Heritage Foundation. Currently Rabbi Shmuel Rabinowitz is the rabbi of the Kotel, appointed by the Prime Minister’s office.

For the last few years, there have been escalating tensions. That is not strong enough. When have been threatened, beaten, spit upon, eggs thrown at them and arrested. Why? For the simple pleasure of davenning as women. Some with tallitot or tefilin. With hope, with a Torah. Not just Reform Jews but Jewish women of all varieties. One of my Orthodox professors, Rivka Haut, z”l was one of the founders. Another professor, Rabbi Jo David, wife of our sofer, Neil Yerman, is coordinating today’s celebrations. Another good friend, Rabbi Susan Silverman, is an active participant there and many, many friends and colleagues have participated in Women of the Wall’s monthly services. I am a national speaker for them.

In May 2013 a Jerusalem judge overruled a 2003 Israeli Supreme Court ruling prohibiting women from wearing a tallit or carrying a Torah was wrong and that Women of the Wall gatherings should not be illegal. I thought things would get better. I was wrong.

Simon and I remember fondly davenning together at the Kotel in 1989 in the plaza itself.n January of 2016 the Israeli Cabinet approved a plan to designate a new space at the Kotel that would be available for egalitarian prayer. I was filled with hope. I was wrong.

Still no. In January of 2017, the Israeli Supreme court ruled that the government could not find “good cause” to prohibit women from reading from Torah. The images that followed were haunting, with women and a Torah scroll pushed to the ground by fellow Jews. In June the 2016 plan to provide additional space at the Kotel was scrapped although Robinson’s Arch was not deemed as access to the Wall.

So what is at stake here and why does it matter at CKI? First of all, the ultra-Orthodox rabbis have it wrong. While women are exempted from time bound mitzvot, from the days of the Talmud, they are not prohibited. If you want to “take on the mitzvah” of tallit or tefilin or blowing shofar or reading Torah. You can. Period. Recently when we participated in Federation of Jewish Men’s Clubs World Wide Wrap, we were reminded that women have laid tefilin, a time bound mitzvah, all the way back to Michal, Saul’s daughter, as it is described in the Talmud (JT Eruvin 10:1, 26a). Rashi’s daughters put on tefilin. If you go to JTS it is a requirement, male or femaile. And yet, in 2010, Noa Raz was beaten at the Central Bus Station in Beer Sheva for doing precisely that.

Let me be clear, no woman should ever be beaten for davening. Period. Clearer—no woman should ever be beaten. Period. But to watch Jews do this to other Jews is haunting.

The images of women having chairs thrown at them, being thrown to the ground, arrested by Israeli police. Israelis arresting Israelis are disheartening. That’s not strong enough. Disgusting. Appalling. Scary. There are echoes, real echoes of Jews being rounded up and arrested in Germany. I wish I could say that it has ended. It has not. At yesterday’s celebration at the Western Wall of Women of the Wall’s 30^th anniversary, again davenning was interrupted by thousands of ultra-Orthodox haredi, young men and women, bussed in to do precisely that. Yes, the reports claim 10,000 ultra-Orthodox women.

According to Fox News quoted Ha’aretz (Oh, the irony), “One man was arrested for attacking an officer while there were multiple injuries following the clashes. The Women’s group said on social media that two of their members had to get medical treatment. Reports claim the progressive women’s group was also opposed by over 10,000 ultra-Orthodox women on Friday morning, with one protesting girl telling Haaretz that religious schools bussed them to the holy site to make it harder for the progressive group to find space to pray.”

Why, what are the men, the rabbis, the ultra-orthodox men even the women, afraid of? Praying is not new for women.

There are a couple of issues here. In the Talmud, it explains that women, children and slaves are exempt from time-bound mitzvoth. That includes reciting the Sh’ma which happens at prescribed times. And the reading of Torah. Over time, what that meant was that the synagogue became the bastion of men. Remember, I joke that the early service is often the men and Margaret. Women didn’t count in the minyan, therefore. Women didn’t feel obligated to come. And often they didn’t feel especially welcome. It didn’t mean that they didn’t pray—it was just different. Then there is the argument that if they are not obligated, if they lead the davenning it doesn’t really count for someone who is obligated to make someone yotzei, fulfilled in their obligation.

Yet women are obligated to pray. According to Orh Samayach, an Orthodox yeshiva in Jerusalem, answering that very question:

“Most halachic authorities maintain that a woman is obligated to recite the morning (shacharit) and afternoon (min- chah) shmoneh esreh (silent amidah prayer) every day. If she has additional time she should recite the following, listed in order of priority: (Note that they are always said in the order printed in the siddur.)

• First verse of shema, together with baruch shem kevod malchuto l’olam va’ed.
• Emet veyatziv (the blessing after shema leading into shemoneh esreh)
• Baruch she’amar, ashrei, yishtabach Birkot hashachar (morning blessings starting from “ha’no-tain la’sechvi…” and ending with “hagomel chasadim tovim l’amo Yisrael”)
• Birkot haTorah (blessings on Torah study)
• The two blessings preceding shema
• The entire shema
• The entire p’sukei d’zimrah

A woman who has very minimal time because of child care or other obligations and can’t spare even the short time for shmoneh esreh, must nonetheless fulfill the obligation to offer some form of prayer every day. This prayer must include the following three elements: Praise to G-d followed by a personal request, and then words of thanks to G-d. Since birkot hashachar and birkot haTorah contain these elements, a woman in the above situation should therefore recite birkot hashachar and birkot haTorah.

The time limits for a woman are the same as for a man. So for example, the morning shmoneh esreh should ideally be prayed within the first third of the daylight hours, or at the very latest before midday.”

Sources: Halichos Bas Yisrael by Rabbi Yitzchok Yaakov Fuchs, ch. 2 https://ohr.edu/ask_db/ask_main.php/206/Q5/

So pray they do. And always have. Just as we have done at CKI.

Last night as part of my Taste of Shabbat on Facebook Live, I read a prayer written in Italy in 1786 by Giuseppe Coen for his new bride. This slim volume, translated by Rabbi Nina Beth Cardin as Out of the Depths I Call to You, A Book of Prayers for the Married Jewish Woman has prayers for lighting Shabbat candles, going to the mikveh, first 40 days of pregnancy, labor, delivery, nursing.

There are two other issues that come up. The first is the argument of Kol Isha, the voice of a woman. Did you know that a woman’s voice could be so alluring that it might turn a man on? This is part of the argument for not allowing a woman to be shliach tzibbur.

“At the heart of this issue is the Talmudic understanding (Berakhot 24a, Kiddushin 70b and Sotah 48a) of Shmuel’s statement, “Kol b’isha ervah,” the voice of a woman is ervah, as it is written (Song of Songs 2:14), “Sweet is your voice, comely your appearance.” The Talmud interprets kol b’isha ervah to mean that the voice of a woman is nakedness and therefore it is forbidden. The fear is that the voice of a woman will distract a man from his prayer or study.”

https://www.womenofthewall.org.il/kol-isha/

In Israel, depending on the political climate, that means that sometimes women can sing in IDF groups or can be heard on Israel Radio and sometimes they can’t.
Yet, women have been singing and praying all the way back to Biblical times. Miriam led the women in song and dance after the parting of the Red Sea. Hannah prayed. Deborah sang.

Lest you think that only Women of the Wall write articles encouraging a woman’s voice to be heard, JOFA, the Jewish Orthodox Feminist Alliance also does. https://www.jofa.org/learning And at the modern Orthodox Lincoln Square synaoguge in New York, they have had a women’s minyan on Shabbat afternoon since the 1970s. Once I was privileged to read Torah there. This is pluralism at its best.

The last issue that gets misinterpreted is around whether a woman can touch a Torah. What if she is menstruating? How would you know? Even these issues have been resolved. And as someone who worked at a mikvah, a Jewish ritual bath, let me assure you, no impurities can be passed to the water of the mikvah or to the Torah. It is really a non issue in traditional halacha. It is hard for me to even stand here and do all this halachic justification that seems so obvious to me.

However, from time to time since this is a congregation that embraces diversity. That diversity includes religious observance. Elu v’elu, this and this are the words of the living G-d. And so from time to time I get real questions about whether we are counting women in a minyan. Yes. But if you have a practice that will only let you count men, I tell someone, I am sure there will be enough (I pray) that you will be yotzei. Some of my women colleagues, rabbis and ministers do not like that answer, but it works for me. Can a woman recite kaddish—yes. Can a woman stand next to a man at the cemetery and recite kaddish, still yes. Can a woman put on tefilin. Yes. Can a woman blow shofar. Yes.

Today, in celebration of Women of the Wall, Cantorial Leader Ilana Axel has just led us in a new setting of Kumi Ori. A promise of the prophet Isaiah written originally in feminine grammar. Was Isaiah speaking to the Israelites asking them to remain optimistic? Or to the Shechinah, the Divine Indwelling Presense of the Holy One, the feminine aspect of G-d? Or directly to the women, then and now, asking them to let their light shine? Maybe all of Women of the Wall’s questions. Let me assure you. That light, G-d’s light shines, equally, on all of us.

Today’s portion is called Pekudai, records. It is the record of all that was brought to build the miskan, the tabernacle. Those records include the fact that men and women brought gifts—gifts of their heart—to make the mishkan possible. They created the space that the Presence of the Holy One dwelled. That word though is important. In its verb form, we know it. G-d pekad et Sarah. G-d took note of Sarah. G-d remembered Sarah. We use that verb in the first paragraph of the Amidah when we add the matriarchs. Barukh atah Adonay, magen Avraham (u’foked Sarah)

So we will sing and dance and pray. Just as we have done at CKI. And maybe, just maybe G-d will take note and remember us and record us. All of us. And then, we will rise, all of us, and our light will shine!

Part A:

Reflections on a good morning. Women of the Wall Shabbat. A highlight of my rabbinic career and in the shadow of disturbing news about this very anniversary in Israel.

What if you have been a member for an organization for 30 years and they are celebrating a milestone anniversary. What if that organization was started in the same year that you and your husband got married? What if since their last milestone anniversary, and ours, we have proudly worn their tallitot. One in silver for the 25 anniversary and one in shades of pink, because after all, I am the Engerizer Rabbi?

You organize a service to commermorate the 30 anniversary of Women of the Wall. You plan. You cajole. You organize. And in a small congregation of about 120 families, you have 28 people sign up to do various things. It all looks good on paper. Torah readers? Check. Aliyot? Check. English readings? Check. Musaf? Sermon? Check. Buttons? Check. Special Kiddush? Check.

Yet, I will admit it. I was nervous. What if it doesn’t go according to plan? Does it ever? Sometimes it is even better. How do you capture a spiritual high. A putting of all the pieces together. I felt like I was smiling and beaming and crying all morning long. How do you sustain that feeling?

As I began to lead services, I wrapped myself in my Women of the Wall tallit. A gift from my husband, who sadly was not present because of an injury. I thought about the first time I wrapped myself in a tallit—as a college student. It felt like being wrapped in G-d’s Shechinah. In G-d’s light. Safe and secure, like a warm blanket. It still does. But not every woman dons a tallit.

In the early part of the service, there are many lines about every living being, every breath praising G-d. Kol haneshma tehilah. And it is true. Usually I think of that as people who aren’t Jewish or the animals and the trees. But today, it seemed calling to say, everyone…male and female. We all praise G-d.

We had asked some of our Shabbat regulars to take parts and they rose to the occasion. Then we asked any woman who wanted to join us. We added Rabbi Maralee Gordon who I went to rabbinical school for some Torah reading and Cantorial Leader Ilana Axel to help us learn the chorus of the Women of the Wall song, Kumi Ori.

We had two of our Shabbat regular guys make sure every one felt welcome.

Our first volunteers in the order of the service were two little girls who have mastered leading the Sh’ma and V’ahavta. What beautiful young voices. Then we did Michamocha to Debbie Friedman’s And the Women Dancing with their Timbrels…and the whole house felt the power of standing at the sea rejoicing. While Ilana was terrific I missed standing with my daughter who was home playing nursemaid to my husband. This is her favorite setting of Michamocha.

We had chosen deliberately to focus on women-compoaed music—Debbie Friedman, Shefa Gold, Nurit Hirsch, Audrey Abrams, Hannah Shenesh.

After Michamocha, a women who hadn’t led at CKI before, but had grown up at Olin Sang Ruby Union Institute led the Amidah with the matriarchs. It was beautiful.

Her daughter, the next CKI Bat Mitzvah, led the Torah service. The next generation leading. From generation to generation. She did great. It built her confidence.

We learned Kumi Ori, a new song commissioned by Women of the Wall and ably taught by Ilana. Ancient words of Isaiah written in the feminine form. Arise and shine. Your light will shine! My sermon was well received. (check back tomorrow for that) Some thought it was the most powerful they had heard me do.

Then we got to the aliyot. We had some long time members go first. They were meaningful. And confident. And powerful. The portions were read capably and beautifully by my friend and colleague, Rabbi Maralee Gordon.

The next aliyah I read, about dedicating the mishkan, the tabernacle on the first day of the first month of the second year. That first day of the first month is Rosh Hodesh Nissan, my husband’s and my anniversary. How perfect for this Women of the Wall Shabbat.

Then a newer woman who joined and learned alef bet did the blessings. Was this another shehecianu moment? No. She had done it before. But it is a real victory for CKI—she set out to learn Alef-Bet, mastered the aliyot blessings and was teary eyed at the power of standing there.

Next up—a couple that is new to CKI. She converted to Judaism and had never had an aliyah or a Bat Mitzvah. Definitely a first and a shehechianu moment. Like a Bat Mitzvah. If only we had had candy to throw! Now not a dry eye on the bimah. Then a brand new member. Someone who decided to re-affiliate with the Jewish community after the massacre in Pittsburgh. She hasn’t missed a Saturday morning since.

And then…a 96 year old who had had the first aliyah at CKI in 1960. WOW! We wheeled the Torah on a moveable shtender right to her. She didn’t get out of her wheelchair but her voice rang out as she confidently chanted the blessings. She got a shehechianu too.

Another woman read haftarah, powerfully in English, dramatically as a theatre person. This was a first for her—so another shehechianu! Still another led musaf, using her own favorite tunes.

All in all, every living being praised G-d., male and female. We provided access to Jewish prayer and to Torah to everyone who entered. I can’t say how every one felt but based on comments, it was a powerful, important moment, for individuals and for the community as a whole. I know that people lingered over a lovely kiddush sponsored by one of the women and that people enjoyed the challah lovingly baked by the Rosh Hodesh Challah baking group.

This morning, this moment was definitely a highlight of my rabbinic career. It was a WoW moment. And in the backdrop of Israel where women are still struggling for access to our most holy site, the Kotel, the Western Wall. Let us pray that one day, every woman will be able to praise G-d loudly and proudly without a fear of being beaten. Then our light will really shine.

Hillel said, “Do not separate yourself from the community.” Pirke Avot 2:4

I am preaching to the choir. You are the ones who are here. And you count.

Recently I went to two separate meetings. The first, back in December was a Chicago Board of Rabbis meeting where the JUF staff tasked with the upcoming population survey came to solicit our advice about the questions and the structure of what we need to know. We explained that some words are really important. It raises really important questions :

• Who is a Jew?
• Who is a member?
• Who is affiliated?
• What is a family?
• Who counts?

We know that the demographics are changing. In the last population survey JUF (Jewish United Fund) explained that there are 6000 unaffiliated Jews in the Fox River Valley. Jews who don’t belong to synagogues or other Jewish institutions. I was tasked with finding them and making CKI attractive enough that they would want to join, to become members. I called JUF to talk to them about their methodology. How did they derive this number. They extrapolated that from 6 phone calls they made into the Fox River Valley. Six. I fault the methodology but cherish the money that JUF has sunk into the region based on that number. AT CKI we are grateful for many JUF grants that we have received at CKI since I have been here. Education grants, safety and security grants, and the latest an “inclusion” grant to make CKI more accessible.

We count.

In the new study we need to ask tough questions. How do we account for adult children living at home? In our congregation we have at least four families with that configuration. This is a new national trend. How do we count households where the children are being raised as Jews but both parents aren’t Jewish? Or Jewish families that don’t affiliate at all? Or answer the question that yes they belong, because they went to High Holiday services or a shiva minyan or eat lox and bagels on Sunday morning.? What do we do with individuals where there are two religions concurrent, like Jew-Bus? Who is entitled to services? Who is a member?

Who counts?

The text for today’s extra reading says that every one must pay a half shekel to be counted. Not any more for the rich. Nor less for the poor. That barrier of entry is deliberately low so that everyone counts. Everyone. OK—in this case men of 20 years of age and older. In order to count for military service.

However, also in the parsha, and just ahead of next week’s Women of the Wall service, the rest of our text this morning clearly states that offerings of the heart come from everyone, men AND woman whose heart so desires. And women were some of the skilled artisans who helped build the mishkan, the tabernacle. Vayakhel—Moses gathered them, all of them together, to build the mishkan. It took all of them gathered together and working together. They counted. They built the building and in the process, they built community.

I also was pulled into a meeting about the local impacts of the upcoming federal census. If any of you have done genealogy you know how important census records are in tracing your roots. More importantly, counting accurately helps cities and regions get much needed federal dollars, monies for school systems and libraries, police and fire coverage, roads , infrastructure. It helps with congressional redistricting.

Here are the numbers for Elgin according to the 2010 US Census: There are 108,000 residents of Elgin. Elgin is 7.4% African American, 5.4% Asian, 43% Hispanic, 1.4% Native American, 3.5% Multi-racial, and the rest Caucasian. https://www.cityofelgin.org/DocumentCenter/View/16168/2010-Census-Elgin-Demographic-Profile?bidId=

However, the numbers of Hispanics I usually hear from official sources are 47% or 52%. What makes the difference? We know that there is a population of undocumented immigrants. We know that there is fear in the immigrant population about the upcoming census. One of the ways the library is asking for help is by spreading the word from the faith communities. Are there problems with the upcoming census form? You bet.

Proposed questions:

• Age, asked since 1790
• Citizenship, asked since 1820
  Hispanic Origin, asked since 1970
• Race, asked since 1790
  Relationship, asked since 1880 (about person 1 to person 2)
• Sex, asked since 1790
• Tenure asked since 1880 (owner, renter)

https://www2.census.gov/library/publications/decennial/2020/operations/planned-questions-2020-acs.pdf

After the “official” questions there are more questions about what I might call American culture.

“Every part of the 2020 Census is grounded in research,” Census Bureau Director Steven Dillingham said. “An accurate and complete census relies on U.S. households responding to the 2020 Census online, by phone or by mail, and the communications campaign is key to achieving that.”

So we have multiple ways of completing the census—by phone, by mail or online. But only do it once! (OK—we are in Chicagoland, vote early and often. Just kidding) We, as a Jewish community, tend to fill out the census form. But what about that fear:

“The analysis revealed five barriers that might prevent people from participating in the census: concerns about data privacy and confidentiality, fear of repercussions, distrust in all levels of government, feeling that it doesn’t matter if you are counted, and belief that completing the census might not benefit you personally.”

https://www.census.gov/newsroom/press-releases/2019/2020-census-cbams.html

The biggest fear seems to be around the citizenship question. That question, which was first asked in the 1820 census is now making its way through the courts. If you say you are not a citizen is it possible that ICE may come and find you? Can you be deported for honestly filling out a census survey?

I had hoped to be able to say something else this morning. We know that the Talmud teaches that 36 times in the Torah it says that we should take care of the widow, the orphan and the stranger in our gates. The Talmud, known for its detailed citations didn’t give us the list of 36. Instead it argues with itself that it is actually 46 times. So I built the list. I went back to it, hoping that when the Israelites conducted its census it counted the sojourners. I couldn’t find it. It is one of the dangers in what is called “prooftexting.” I did find references that both King David and King Solomon counted foreign born workers—in order to pay them accurately.

1. I Chronicles 22:1-2: “And David commanded to gather together the strangers that were in the land of Israel; and he set masons to hew wrought stones to build the house of God.”
2. II Chronicles 2:17-18: “And Solomon numbered all the strangers that were in the land of Israel, after the numbering as David his father had numbered them; and they were found a hundred and fifty thousand and three thousand and six hundred. And he set threescore and ten thousand of them to bear burdens, and fourscore thousand to be hewers in the mountains, and three thousand and six hundred overseers to set the people at work.”

So counting is important—for making sure we have enough people for a minyan, for paying our workers correctly, for figuring out our resources for a military campaign, for so much more.

Yet there is a spiritual component to it is as well. G-d says to Moses we are not just counting people, we are “raising their heads”, the same root as to have an aliyah. It’s a going up, to a higher spiritual plane.

As the Lubevitcher Rebbe, whose biography the CKI book group just finished reading, taught, “When a census is taken, the count will include scholars and boors, professionals and vagabonds, philanthropists and misers, saints and criminals. Yet each counts for no more and no less than one in the total number. The count reflects only the one quality they all share equally: the fact that each is an individual human being..

But it is not, as he explained, an expression of the lowest common denominator. Rather, in G-d’s eyes, a census is a reflection of the highest common denominator. “As G‑d sees it, the soul of man is a spark of His own fire—a spark with the potential to reflect the infinite goodness and perfection of its source. Human life is the endeavor to realize what is implicit in this spark. Indeed, a person may lead a full, accomplished and righteous life, and barely scratch the surface of the infinitude of his or her soul. Another person may blunder for a lifetime in darkness and iniquity, and then, in a moment of self-discovery, fan their divine spark into roaring flame. So when G‑d instructs that we be counted, it is an expression of our highest common denominator. On the divine census sheet, our differences are transcended to reveal the simple fact of our being—a fact which expresses what is best in us, and from which stems all that is good in us.” https://www.chabad.org/parshah/article_cdo/aid/3728281/jewish/Four-Quick-Insights-from-the-Rebbe-on-the-Parshah-Pinchas.htm

We count.

There is one more thing about this counting. It is about building community.

We began a conversation last night. Counting members is much more than about who paid synagogue dues…but that is important too. It is about belonging to a community. So my question for you this morning, continuing on from last night’s conversation is what is it that you want or need in a community. Each of you have chosen to be here. Have chosen to be counted. So why are you here?

• The family that we have chosen
• Support in good times…and bad—and in good again.
• Safety and protection
• Making life easier
• A sense of accountability
• A connection with the Divine
• A connection with history and tradition and ancestors
• It is part of the covenant. I will be here. I will be present.

Let us be counted and let us build this community, together.

Yesterday I spied a Robin…and today a cardinal. It is still light as I talk to you.

About a month ago we cancelled services because there was too much snow…so the birds are welcome tonight as we reconvene to observe Shabbat Shirah, the Sabbath of Song, as a chance to honor our choir who works so hard to make our services aesthetically beautiful.

I hope they feel well feted and their music—our music lifts our spirits.

Music and words are important. Sometimes music even more so:

Peter, Paul and Mary wrote: Music speaks louder than words.

Music speaks louder than words
It’s the only thing that the whole world listens to.
Music speaks louder than words,
When you sing, people understand.

Sometimes the love that you feel inside
Gets lost between your heart and your mind
And the words don’t really say the things you wanted them to.
But then you feel in someone’s song
What you’d been trying to say all along
And somehow with the magic of music the message comes through.

The longer I live the more I find that people seldom take the time
To really get to know a stranger and make him a friend.
But the power of a simple song can make everybody feel they belong.
Maybe singin’ and playin’ can bring us together again.
Singin’ and playin’ can bring us together again.

We know the Chasidic story about the little boy and his flute, a chalil in Hebrew. He didn’t know how to pray and so took out his flute and blew it on the most holy day of the year, Yom Kippur. Everyone was shocked. The Ba’al Shem Tov, founder of Chasidic Judaism stops his praying. He told the hushed crowd that this little boy’s prayer had propelled the entire congregation’s prayers to the very vault of heaven.

Tomorrow we will be talking still about how to make a holy place so that G-d will dwell among us. Just before beginning this evening, we learned about the tragic shooting in Aurora this afternoon. While all the details are not yet known, I am sure of this. Words fail. As we pray for the victims, including the police officers that were wounded, we work for a time when everyone can sit under their vine and fig tree and none will make them afraid.

A reading before Kaddish:

Words fail, Lord.
Word fail.
And prayers too.
Thoughts and prayers.
Fail.

.As children die in classrooms.
As young people die at concerts or movies.
As old people die in their pews.
As officers race into buildings.

How many people?
How many more?
How many more are enough?
Do You demand this sacrifice?

How many words?
How many prayers?
What are the right words?
What are the right prayers?

Ours is not to finish the task.
Neither are we free to ignore it.

Give us courage.
Give us strength.
Give us courage to act.
Give us strength to speak.

Words of comfort.
Words of peace.
Words that lead to action.

You tell us
To do justly
To love mercy
To walk humbly with You.

Walk with us.
Teach us the right prayers.
Teach us that prayers are not enough.

Teach us to not be afraid.
Teach us to love our neighbor as ourselves

Be with us in our pain and in our grief.
Be with our first responders
With our skilled and compassionate care teams.
Be with us as we struggle.

As we struggle to build a world
Based on Your vision
One of love—of chesed and ahavah.

Then on Saturday:
Today’s portion is about ordination…and call.

Moses was called…to go to Pharaoh and say, “Let my people go.” And then to accompany them, to lead them as they wandered in the wilderness.

And Aaron was called to meet his brother in the wilderness and accompany him. To be his spokesperson when words failed Moses. And then to lead the people when Moses was on top of Mount Sinai.

The answer to both was Hineini…Here am I.

We know that word. From the haunting sounds of the cantor’s prayer on the High Holidays. Hineini. Here am I, trembling and full of awe, humble before you. The messenger of the people.

The word Hineini shows up 178 times in the Hebrew Bible. Eight in Torah alone.

Abraham answered Hineini when asked to take his son, his only son, the one he loves, Isaac and offer him as a sacrifice. Jacob answered Hineini to the divine call twice. Joseph answered his father with Hineini. Moses, as we mentioned at the Burning Bush. Samuel, Eli, David, Isaiah, each find the word.

Each time the word Hineini is used, it is a turning point. A life changing moment. The person responding heard and accepted G-d’s call, a unique and special mission. Prepared and ready to do it. Even if it seems hard. Impossible. Even if you would rather not.

How do we say Hineini with our lives? Because Hineini is not just for those back in the Bible. It is for us today.

We may answer Hineini to a call. Or sometimes we maybe a little less clear, like when your mother (or your father!) calls you to do something and you say, “OK, in a minute, let me finish this round.” Or “I need to finish this article.” Or “I’m too busy. Find someone else.” Maybe you find a way to run away to Tarshish like Jonah.

Or perhaps, it is saying, :OK, Here am I, I am ready to take a stand. Here I am. I am ready. At your service.”

We’ve been talking about gemilut chasadim, acts of love and kindness. Before Shabbat I sent a list of those hidden, anonymous acts this week…

• One class who made Valentine’s Day cards for kids in the hospital
• Someone who set up the Gaga pit and then someone else who put the Gaga pit away
• Someone who helped deliver those cards to Advocate Children’s Hospital and their child life coordinator who made sure I got to the right next place at Advocate Lutheran General
• Someone who visited the sick
• Someone who brought more food to the Martin Luther King food drive
• Someone who waited in the parking lot to make sure everyone’s car was scraped and started safely after the board meeting
• Someone bringing special kosher chocolate to class
• Someone who brought tulips to brighten up the social hall
• Someone who sent a special card to the office and someone else who sent an unexpected donation
• Someone who texted me to make sure I was OK when I didn’t show up at anticipated meeting

These are ways we answer Hineini with our lives.

Yet, when G-d calls out to Adam and Eve, “Where are you? Akeykah, “they do not answer Hineini. And when G-d demands that Jonah go to Ninevah, Jonah doesn’t answer Hineini, he runs away to Tarshish.

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel remarked:

“When Adam and Eve hid from His presence, the Lord called: Where art Thou (Genesis 3:9). It is a call that goes out again and again. It is a still small echo of a still small voice, not uttered in words, not conveyed in categories of the mind, but ineffable and mysterious, as ineffable and mysterious as the glory that fills whole world. It is wrapped in silence; concealed and subdued; yet it is as if all things were the frozen echo of the question: Where art thou? (God in Search of Man p. 137)

Where are you may be the most important question in our lives. Not the stopped at a stoplight “Where are I going?” but a more metaphysical question…which can also happen at a stoplight. “Where are you? Where are you going?”

Here I am. I’m right here. Ready to do Your service.

Heschel continued, “In our own lives, the voice of God speaks slowly, a syllable at a time. Reaching the peak of years, dispelling some of our intimate illusions and learning how to spell the meaning of life-experiences backwards, some of us discover how the scattered syllables form a single phrase. Those who know that this life of ours takes place in a world that is not all to be explained in human terms; that every moment is a carefully concealed act of His creation, cannot but ask: is there anything wherein His voice is not suppressed? Is there anything wherein His creation is not concealed?” (God in Search of Man, p. 174)

“Here am I” is about being fully present. Not being distracted by cell phones or social media or the pile of dishes in the sink or any number of things. Right here, right now, in this exact time and place.

Since we are now in Adar, I think of Queen Esther. The action changes in the Book of Esther when Mordecai demands that she go to the king to save her people. She argues and Mordecai says, “For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance will come from another place…And who knows whether you have come into your royal position for such a time as this?” (Esther 4:14)

Sometimes the messages of how we are called come one syllable at a time, as Heschel suggested. Sometimes, they come from another person, as they did to Esther. Sometimes, they come in the still, silent voice of G-d, as Elijah the prophet describes.

I love this quote of Frederick Buechner, and quote it often: “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”

How does G-d command us? How does G-d call us? What does G-d demand of us?

“Only to do justly, love mercy and walk humbly with our G-d.” (Micah 6:8)
To love G-d, love our neighbors and love the sojourner.

Then in this portion, G-d confirms that calling with a special ceremony…ordination…which back in the day was a pretty bloody and gorey ceremony with measures of flour and oil, sacrifices of bulls in a precise order, smearing of blood on Aaron’s earlobe. I’m not sure if that was the rabbinic ordination ceremony I would have been so interested.

Yet the very end of our portion, after the mishkan, the tabernacle is built, and after Aaron and his sons are ordained to serve G-d. Then G-d’s presence will dwell among us.

Last week we sang, “V’asu li mikdash, v’shachanti betocham, Build for Me a sanctuary, that I may dwell among them” (Exodus 25)

I, G-d, will dwell among you. I, G-d, want to have a relationship with you. Even today. Even as I call you by name. If only you would listen to my voice. If only you would answer “Hineini, Here am I.”

This fits with another use of Hineini in the Hebrew Bible. In Isaiah, we are told, there will come a time when if we act ethically and call out to G-d, then G-d will respond, “Hineini, Here am I.” (Isaiah 52:6, 58:6-9, 66:1) http://jewcology.org/2011/11/here-i-am-responding-to-the-call-in-creation/

Let us listen for the syllables and the still, small voice calling us…Hineini., Here am I.
Let us answer Hineini with our lives…Hineini…Here am I.
Let us call out to our fellow who needs to hear us…Hineini, Here am I.
Let us reach out to one another with the actions that need to be taken and say, Hineini…Here am I.
Let us say it to G-d….Hineini, Here am I.

(Based on a reading here: https://www.tbespringfield.org/here-i-am-hineni )

Last week we talked about “chesed” and building the world with love. This week we are going to talk about “ahavah” love.

In this week’s portion we begin to build the mishkan, the traveling tabernacle in the desert, the place where G-d will dwell. Mishkan, dwelling place is an interesting word. We derive Shechinah, the in-dwelling presence of G-d, the feminine aspect of G-d.

We are told that G-d wants us to bring gifts. G-d needs our gifts? Yes! Freewill offerings. Gifts from the heart. This is not the census tax or the membership fee. This is what you want to bring. Whatever the heart directs.

What are the gifts that we bring?

Our gifts of making the place beautiful, our artistry, our sense of beauty, the gift of time, our love of cooking and baking—just ask those who were gathered to bake challah this week. The text specifies to accept gifts of gold and silver and copper, linen in purple, crimson and blue and more. All to build a house so that G-d can dwell among them.

In short, we are to bring our whole selves.

Debbie Friedman, z”l wrote this song:

These are the gifts that we bring
that we may build a holy place.
This is the spirit that we bring
that we may build a holy place.
We will bring all the goodness
that comes from our hearts
And the spirit of God will dwell within…..

These are the colors of our dreams
we bring to make a holy place.
This is the weaving of our lives
we bring to make a holy place.
We will bring all the goodness
that comes from our hearts
And the spirit of love will dwell within…..

These are the prayers that we bring
that we may make a holy place.
These are the visions that we seek
that we may build this holy place.
Let our promise forever be strong,
let our souls rise together in song,
that the spirit of God
and the spirit of love,
Shechinah,
will dwell within.

This week we started a new class for Rosh Hodesh, the beginning of the new month. Based on the book Spiritual Kneading we will gather to bake challah, some to take home and some for Shabbat at CKI and some to deliver to our shut-ins. I had the opportunity to take one of those loaves to one of our members in their new home at an assisted living facility. They were so happy to see me and to have a challah for their first Shabbat in their new home. That was a gift. That was love.

In the case, people asked why there are two challot on Shabbat. It is the tradition because when manna fell in the desert, there was a double portion on Friday so we didn’t have to collect on Shabbat. That manna was a gift. That was love.

The book Love and Knishes is an old Jewish cookbook that both Simon and I grew up with. I think we brought two copies into the marriage. The very first page says, “If the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, then knishes will get there faster…and stay longer.” While the sentiment may seem a bit dated now, the idea that way to anyone’s heart maybe through good cooking is not.

Shabbat at home is supposed to be filled with joy and peace. And that extra spice that is Shabbat. “Caesar asked Rabbi Joshua ben Chananya: Why do Shabbat foods smell so good? Said he to him: We have a special spice, ‘Shabbat’ is its name . . .” (Talmud, Shabbat 119a) Others have said that extra ingredient is love.

Our homes are to be a mikdash me’at, a little sanctuary. And the challah re-enacts the sacrifice that was offered in the Holy Temple for Shabbat. Our homes are to be filled with Shalom Bayit, peace of the house.

But sometimes, they are not. This weekend is dedicated as Shababt L’Amour by Jewish Women International. It is our hope that we use this time to focus on our homes being a little sanctuary, and building our world on love. That is the real gift. That is love.

Next week, on Valentine’s Day, we are helping to sponsor an event at Elgin Community College, Long Red Line—One Billion Rising which ties to an international movement started by Eve Ensler. Come join me at 10:00 at ECC to say that no woman should be beaten, that every person deserves to live in a house filled with shalom bayit and that extra spice of Shabbat. That too would be a gift. And love.

Cantor Julia Cadrain took the verse from our portion this week, to make for G-d a sanctuary so that G-d can dwell among us and combined it with a hymn that may be familiar to many:

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

“Ve’asu li mikdash veshachanti betocham,” which means “Build for Me a Sanctuary that I may dwell among them.” (Exod. 25:8) It says “them,” meaning God may dwell among them–the people, rather than it–the Sanctuary. This is the idea that God isn’t contained within any particular physical space, but rather exists in the spaces between people and in the relationships we have with each other. V’asu li mikdash V’shachanti b’tocham Va-anachnu n’varech Yah Me-ata v’ad olam! Lord, prepare me to be a Sanctuary Pure and holy, tried and true With thanksgiving I’ll be a living Sanctuary for You!”

She is correct…the real gift is not the building itself but the people in the building in relationship with each other. People facing each other, looking into each other’s eyes, just as the cherubim in today’s reading. It is about being in relationship with each other. The I-Thou relationship that Martin Buber talked about and that Ron Wolfson discussed in Relational Judaism.

In the haftarah, we learn that “There was shalom/friendship between Hiram and Solomon, and the two of them made a covenant, a treaty.” Another translation would be that there was peace between them. Without peace, it is hard to have friendship.

At the very end of the haftarah we learn that I will abide among the children of Israel, and I will never forsake My people Israel.”

That is the gift of this very building. The gift of G-d dwelling amongst us. The gift of peace. The gift of friendship. The gift of a challah—and maybe the extra spice of Shabbat.

Shin-Mem-Ayin—Listen. Hear. The opening word of today’s Torah portion. Moses listens to Jethro, the priest of the Midianites and his father-in-law. “You can’t do this job alone,” Jethro tells him. And Moses hears him. Jethro explains it is better to delegate, to find other people to help him. And Moses did exactly that. He heard Jethro and he listened.

In the very next chapter, the people of Israel are gathered round the mountain. Something is about to happen. G-d tells Moses to tell the people “If you will obey me faithfully and keep My covenant…” but obey has the same root, shin-mem-ayin. If you listen to me and do what I say…then you will be a treasured people and a holy nation.

G-d continued…”I will come to you in a thick cloud, in order that the people may HEAR when I speak with you…” Then Moses reported the people’s words to G-d. “All that the Lord has spoken, we will do.”

“We will do and we will hear.” Seems out of order. How do they know what to do if they haven’t heard the commandments yet? Sometimes you just know what the right thing to do is. You have already heard the rules—from your mother or your father or some internal sense. You know right from wrong. (That’s what our littlest member said!)

Let’s try something. Sitting in a circle I am going to whisper something in that littlest member’s ear. She’s about 6. She whispered “I am the Lord your G-d and I love you.” It went all around the circle and came back to me correctly. It was an amazing game of “Telephone.” Seems silly, but it was effective.

Moses, however, didn’t get the game of telephone right. He heard G-d tell him to tell the people how to prepare: “Go to the people and warn them to stay pure today and tomorrow. Let them wash their clothes. Let them be ready for the third day; for on the third day the LORD will come down, in the sight of all the people, on Mount Sinai. You shall set bounds for the people round about, saying, ‘Beware of going up the mountain or touching the border of it. Whoever touches the mountain shall be put to death: no hand shall touch him, but he shall be either stoned or shot; beast or man, he shall not live.’ When the ram’s horn sounds a long blast, they may go up on the mountain.”

Moses came down from the mountain to the people and warned the people to stay pure, and they washed their clothes. And he said to the people, “Be ready for the third day: do not go near a woman.” “Do not go near a woman.” Where did that come from? Moses seems to have added that.

“All the people witnessed the thunder and the lightening, the blare of the shofar and the mountain smoking and when the people saw it, they fell back and stood at a distance. You speak to us, they said to Moses and we will obey. But let not G-d speak to us, lest we die. Moses answered the people, Be not afraid.”

“Shmati.” I have heard. Some people, particularly in Jewish Renewal circles to say Shmati when someone has finished speaking.

From the US State Department website, we learn:

“The most common problem in communication is not listening! A Chinese symbol for “To Listen” is shown below.  It is wise beyond the art. The left side of the symbol represents an ear. The right side represents the individual- you. The eyes and undivided attention are next and finally there is the heart. This symbol tells us that to listen we must use both ears, watch and maintain eye contact, give undivided attention, and finally be empathetic.  In other words we must engage in active listening!”

https://www.state.gov/m/a/os/65759.htm

People reminded me that you can listen without hearing. A story was told of someone who is a communication professional who told an employee something. “Oh, that makes sense. How come you haven’t told us before?” Someone else responded, “He’s told you five times.” The communications professional added that people only hear when they are ready to hear. (This was a holy moment during the service!)

You also need to be quiet. And not jump ahead…something I am guilty of sometimes.

When G-d gave the Torah, no bird sang, no fowl flew, no ox lowered, the sea ceased to roar, and all creatures were silent. The entire world was hushed into stillness and the Voice spoke forth, “I am the Lord…” (Midrash)

From Rabbi Larry Kushner’s Book of Miracles: “No one really knows for certain what happened at Mount Sinai. Some people believe that G-d dictated the entire Torah word for word. Others believe that it included the Oral Law as well. Some believe that G-d inspired Moses. In Makot 23a and b, the rabbis of the Talmud were having just such an argument—what happened at Sinai. It teaches us that G-d didn’t give the Ten Commandments, but only the first two sayings. One who remembers that there is a G-d who frees people and who has no other gods will be religious. Another rabbi argued that it was just the first saying. Still another said that it was just the first word of the first saying, Anochi. But Rabbi Mendl Torum of Rymanov said, “Not even the first word. All G-d said was the first letter of the first word of the first saying, the first letter of the Alef-bet, alef” Now this is somewhat problematic, since Alef is silent. Almost but not perfectly. You see alef makes a tiny, little sound that is the beginning of every sound. Open your mouth (go ahead, do it). Stop! That is alef. G-d made the voice of Alef so quiet that if you made any other noise you wouldn’t be able to hear it. At Sinai, all the people of Israel needed to hear was the sound of Alef. It meant that G-d and the Jewish people could have a conversation.” This is the basis of Buber’s I-Thou relationship, the basis of Wolfson’s book, Relational Judaism. It is transformational. And it doesn’t just apply to the Jewish people, but to all people.

Continuing with Rabbi Kushner: The Zohar teaches that Alef, contains the entire Torah. But not everyone is ready to hear the gentle sound of alef, People are only able to hear what they are ready to hear. G-d speaks to each of us in a personal way, taking into consideration our strength wisdom and preparation. The Midrash even tells us that G-d’s voice is so powerful and frightening that G-d tempers it by creating different sounds for each person.

There was even a different sounding voice just for the ears of small children.”

And while we sing of G-d’s powerful voice in the Psalms—both Friday night and when putting the Torah way, there is another idea of G-d’s voice. When Dreamworks was putting together Prince of Egypt, the animated movie about Moses and the 10 Commandments, they employed a group of Jewish, Christian and Muslim leaders to advise. They decided two important things. The first was to try to make G-d not be gendered. The second was that the voice of G-d would be played by the same one who played Moses.

https://www.patheos.com/blogs/filmchat/2018/12/20-things-about-the-prince-of-egypt-which-turns-20-today.html

This fits with another idea we find from Elijah:

Come out, G-d called, “and stand on the mountain before the Eternal.” And lo, the Eternal passed by. There was a great and mighty wind, splitting mountains and shattering rocks by the power of the Eternal; but the Eternal was not in the wind. After the wind—a mighty earthquake, but the Eternal was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake—fire; but the Eternal was not in the fire. And after the fire—a still, small voice. 1 Kings 19:11-12

The still small voice. The conscious. Jimminy Cricket.

Let’s try one more thing. Let’s practice active listening. So we will be prepared to hear the 10 Commandments. So we will be better friends and co-workers, spouses and parents. It is a way we live out, “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

1. Pay attention
2. Withhold judgment
3. Reflect
4. Clarify
5. Summarize
6. Share

No 1: Pay attention. One goal of active listening is to set a comfortable tone and allow time and opportunity for the other person to think and speak. Pay attention to your frame of mind as well as your body language. Be focused on the moment and operate from a place of respect. (I’ll add: maintain eye contact. Don’t look at your phone. Don’t become distracted.)

No. 2: Withhold judgment. Active listening requires an open mind. As a listener and a leader, you need to be open to new ideas, new perspectives and new possibilities. Even when good listeners have strong views, they suspend judgment, hold their criticism and avoid arguing or selling their point right away. (I’ll add: Don’t jump ahead. Don’t formulate your response while the person is still speaking. Don’t jump in with too many of your own stories. Don’t think you know where the conversation is going.)

No. 3: Reflect. Learn to mirror the other person’s information and emotions by paraphrasing key points. Don’t assume that you understand correctly or that the other person knows you’ve heard him. Reflecting is a way to indicate that you and your counterpart are on the same page. (I’ll add: reflecting is a way to show that you are paying attention and have heard them.)

No. 4: Clarify. Don’t be shy to ask questions about any issue that is ambiguous or unclear. Open-ended, clarifying and probing questions are important tools. They draw people out and encourage them to expand their ideas, while inviting reflection and thoughtful response. (I’ll add: try these: “What you are saying is? Did you say this? I think I heard this…)

No. 5: Summarize. Restating key themes as the conversation proceeds confirms and solidifies your grasp of the other person’s point of view. It also helps both parties to be clear on mutual responsibilities and follow-up. Briefly summarize what you have understood as you listened, and ask the other person to do the same. (I’ll add this: So what you are saying is? Can you say that again? I want to make sure I heard you correctly.)

No. 6: Share. Active listening is first about understanding the other person, then about being understood. As you gain a clearer understanding of the other person’s perspective, you can then introduce your ideas, feelings and suggestions. You might talk about a similar experience you had or share an idea that was triggered by a comment made previously in the conversation.

https://www.ccl.org/multimedia/podcast/the-big-6-an-active-listening-skill-set/

Sh’mati!

Last week we talked about puzzles, and New Year’s and figuring out the puzzle of our lives. Making meaning. This week’s portion also has a puzzle. It is one of the most complicated portions in the entire Torah.

So now that we are in the first week of the New Year, how are those New Year’s resolutions going? Not so well? Not surprised. I prefer making New Year’s goals, taking the time to daydream about what I want to do with this clean slate stretching out before me.

And this week’s portion actually will help with that. Here’s the puzzle. G-d gave us, all of us free will or free choice. But then in this week’s portion G-d seems to say that G-d hardened Pharaoh’s heart. How is that possible if G-d gave us free will? Isn’t that taking away the free will?

Let’s look a little more carefully. There are Ten Plagues and ten responses of Pharaoh’s heart.

The Ten Plagues and Pharaoh’s Heart

1. Blood: Pharaoh’s heart “became hard” (7:22)
2. Frogs: Pharaoh “hardened his own heart” (8:15)
3. Gnats: Pharaoh’s heart “was hard” (8:19)
4. Flies: “Pharaoh hardened his own heart” (8:32)
5. Livestock die: Pharaoh’s heart “was hard” (9:7)
6. Boils: “The Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart” (9:12)
7. Hail: Pharaoh “hardened his own heart” (9:34)
8. Locusts: God announces that he has “hardened Pharaoh’s heart” (10:1,10:20)
9. Darkness: God “hardened Pharaoh’s heart” (10:27)
10. Death of the firstborn: God “hardened Pharaoh’s heart” (11:10)

So not until the sixth plague, where we start reading today, does G-d harden Pharaoh’s heart. I have puzzled over this for years. I finally understood it in a Bible discussion group that Simon and I were a part of for years in Boston. A nun explained it. It is about habits. Pharaoh kept making the wrong decision. He hardened his own heart. Over and over again. It became a habit.

The classical Jewish sources tell us something similar. Exodus Rabbah, the midrash, tell us the first time the Torah tells us G-d hardens Pharaoh’s heart is Exodus 9:12. “Since God sent [the opportunity for repentance and doing the right thing] five times to him and he sent no notice, God then said, ‘You have stiffened your neck and hardened your heart on your own…. So it was that the heart of Pharaoh did not receive the words of God.’”

Five times before Pharaoh hardens his own heart. Pharaoh turned away from Moses’s call and demand. He didn’t hear the suffering of the Israelites and it would seem he didn’t care. Five times, as Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg says, “he made his own heart less and less supple and soft.” Pharaoh sealed his own fate, for himself and his relationship to G-d.

I am uncomfortable with this. I thought the gates of repentance are always open. I thought the Dutch Reformed Calvinists were the ones who believed in pre-destination, but here it is right in our own sacred text. Right in our own portion of today.

Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto, an 18^th century Italian commentator said this (remember, this is before Freud!) “Our external actions have an effect on our inner feelings. We have more control over our actions than our emotions, and if we utilize what is in our power, we will eventually acquire what is not as much in our power.” https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/who-really-hardened-pharaohs-heart/

So what does this have to do with New Year’s. Each of us has the potential to impact our own lives. To make incremental decisions that affect our lives, that affect our hearts. Our tradition can help, too.

There are three songs that we sing routinely that deal with hearts. The first, V’tahair Libeinu is what I sing on the elliptical. “Cleanse our hearts that we might serve You in truth.” If I do enough miles on the elliptical, maybe G-d will not harden my arteries. If I keep making the right choices, I will be healthier, mentally, spiritually and physically.

The Cleveland Clinic recommends this steps for heart healthy living:

1. Eat healthy fats
2. Practice good dental hygiene, especially flossing every day
3. Get enough sleep
4. Don’t sit for too long
5. Avoid second hand smoke. LIKE THE PLAGUE!

https://health.clevelandclinic.org/5-things-to-do-daily-to-keep-your-heart-healthy/

LIKE THE PLAGUE! How appropriate for today. And if you are wondering what you should eat…think about this list from the Mayo Clinic:

1. Portion size
2. Eat more fruits and vegetables
3. Select whole grains
4. Limit unhealthy fats
5. Choose low-fat protein sources
6. Reduce the sodium in your food
7. Plan ahead: Create daily menus
8. Allow yourself an occasional treat

https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/heart-disease/in-depth/heart-healthy-diet/art-20047702

Again, it is about building healthy habits. Learning to become the opposite of Pharaoh

But there is one more thing you maybe trying to eliminate in the New Year to be more heart healthy. That is stress. Recently I saw a communication from my colleague, Rabbi Shmuly Yankovitch who is a modern Orthodox rabbi in Phoenix with a similar bent towards social justice to my own. He wrote:

“Receiving constant phone calls from the Dept. of Child Services every day (even late at night!) with tragic cases of abused & neglected children that desperately need to be placed in loving homes. Sweet innocent children with nowhere to go.

After each call, I feel sick.

The Zohar, on this week’s parsha, says Moshe was sick. This is why he didn’t have proper speech. He had a voice but no speech. His speech was in exile and unable to articulate freedom. It was an existential problem. Sometimes we can talk about the brutalities we witness but we can’t really explain the depths of our understanding, the depths of the pain associated with seeing suffering and not being able to alleviate it, the paralysis of empathy, silenced by the shock of an open heart. The limitations of human language. Knowing G-d is with you but having no imaginable path toward freedom, toward a promised land. A voice of sweet freedom but speech stuck in brutal exile.”

How horrible for those children. How horrible for Shmuly. How horrible for Moshe. Moshe was sick. Maybe he was experiencing burn-out or compassion fatigue. Maybe it was too much stress. Later Moses, through his father-in-law Jethro will learn to delegate. It doesn’t come easily to him. Or to me or to some of you. Just say no. But here is another list:

• Identify stressors
• Eliminate unnecessary commitments
• Procrastination
• Disorganization
• Late
• Controlling
• Multitasking
• Eliminate energy drains
• Avoid difficult people
• Simplify life
• Unschedule
• Slow down
• Help others
• Relax throughout the day
• Quit work
• Simplify your to-do list
• Exercise
• Eat healthy
• Be grateful
• Zen-like environment

https://zenhabits.net/20-ways-to-eliminate-stress-from-your-life/

May this be a Shabbat, a year where we learn to be heart healthy, yet full of courage and compassion.

Last night we talked about the Names of G-d. In this week’s Torah portion we learn the ineffable, unpronounceable name of G-d. G-d spoke this name out of a burning bush, a bush that was burning and was not consumed. An ordinary place, an ordinary bush, but something was special, something was unique. Moses took off his shoes. He was standing on holy ground.

Last night we read the book, In G-d’s Name, by Rabbi Sandy Sasso where together with the beautiful illustrations, she explains that there are many names for G-d. She explores names like Source of Life, Creator of Light, Maker of Peace, Sheppard, Mother, Father, Rock, Friend, Comforter, Healer. All are names for G-d. There are lots of names for G-d.

Last night when I got home, I opened up our annual New Year’s puzzle to work on. It is fun way to spend time with out of town guests. It is relaxing and it allows us to take a breath. Shabbat is a breath. The pause that refreshes. So take a deep breath. Another one. Another one.

This week we start reading a new book of the Torah. We begin reading Sh’mot, Names, in English it is called Exodus because it tells how the Israelites were freed from Egyptian bondage.

These words from my colleague and dear friend, Rabbi Mike Rothbaum, really resonated with me this week:

“After Moses tells the Israelites about their shiny new God-name, the Torah tells us, Lo sham’u. The Israelites “didn’t listen.” They couldn’t listen. Moses teaches a Divine Name made up of vowels, of breathing sounds. But, according to the Torah, the Israelites are prevented from listening by kotzer ruach – “shortness of breath.” Or, another translation: “crushed spirit.” The word ruach can mean “breath.” Or “spirit.” A person who suffers distress or oppression is short of breath and short of spirit. She isn’t able to breathe. The Israelites can’t hear because they can’t breathe.

Later they are told to Listen. We know this one. Sh’ma Yisrael. Listen Israel, The Lord (That same YHVH that we learn about this week, the same name that Moses is given at the Burning Bush), Our G-d, the Lord is One. And only one. Unique. Even though G-d has many different names. Still the same One G-d.

The same G-d who promised the land of Israel to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob as part of the covenant. The same G-d who keeps that covenant even now.

So take that breath again. Today we are going to focus on breath. This Shabbat, this weekend is a breath. A pause to re-evaluate where we are and where we are going. A pause that may help us find meaning. Help us find balance.

In that quiet. In that space, that reset button, it may be possible to hear. What do you hear?

Is it possible to hear G-d calling? This is holy ground. Take off your shoes. Breathe in the Divine. Exhale. Breathe in again. Really feel it in your kishkes. Breathe again.

What is G-d calling? How do you answer?

Each of us has a name…earlier this week I read the Zelda poem. Each of us is given a name. By our parents, sometimes by our classmates, sometimes we are given a nickname. Sometimes we gain a new name when we marry, or when we achieve a new title. Sometimes we earn the name Mom or Dad. Or Gramps, Grandfather, Zayde. Sometimes we have a Hebrew name. Sometimes we have a name in another language.

Moses answered his calling with this simple word. Hineini. Here am I. How do we answer Hineini with our lives?

Our job is not to be Moses. That has already been done and the text is clear. There arose not a prophet like Moses. Only Moses was Moses.

The story is told of Reb Zusia on his death bed. He was crying and his disciples could nto figure out why. He said that question he would be asked in heaven was not ‘Why are you not Moses but why are you not Zusia.’

Each of us has a unique role, a unique calling. Finding our own authentic selves is why we are here. It is my belief that Judaism can help us find our own authentic selves and that is the puzzle that we are really trying to solve.

Another question that might be asked in heaven is “Have you seen My Alps?” G-d has created a beautiful, precious world with amazing things to appreciate. G-d does not want us to deny ourselves pleasure. We are not an ascetic people. But sometimes we get the balance out of whack.

Dr. Ron Wolfson in his book The Seven Questions You’re Asked in Heaven, identifies these questions:

• Were you honest?
• Did you leave a legacy?
• Did you set aside time to study?
• Did you have hope?
• Did you get your priorities straight? (that’s the balance question)
• Did you enjoy this world (that’s the Alps question)
• Were you the best you could be? (That’s the Zusia question)

So today, to celebrate New Year’s and this reset button, I am going to give you a Magan David. A Star of David, a shield, for you to create your own balance, for you to figure out your own unique call. This is not about making New Year’s Resolutions, or even goals.

What would you put in the center? G-d? Family? Health? The word Hineini?

Then you have six points to surround the outside with.

Here is a list of puzzle pieces prepared by Linda Sonin, our partner at the Chicago Bureau of Jewish Education. These are some of the core values of Judaism. She actually asks the question, “How will you piece together your most meaningful life?” Would you add something from this list? Is there something missing from the list?

Maybe you can’t pick just six. That’s OK. They are all valid.

If you think about the star, they are two interlocking triangles. I’ve played with this puzzle for years. Perhaps G-d goes in the center, with Torah or learning, Israel or community, Tikkun Olam in triangle and family, job, self in the other one. I’ve never been sure that I have the balance right.

Family is interesting because according the most recent Pew Study, most Americans derive the most amount of meaning from their families.

Job? But what job is right for you? Is it a career or vocation or just a way to pay the bills. I love this book, Being G-d’s Partner by Rabbi Jeffrey Salkin who also wrote putting G-d on the Guest List. He uncovers the hidden link between spirituality and work. I describe it as What Color is Your Parachute for Jews. And he begins with a story of watching the movers pack up his house—and the care and concern they took. It was spiritual. I loved Danielle Lindow’s line this week that she learned from her Zayde. “No job is beneath a Lindow.” I thought about that as I was putting down salt on the parking lot this morning. I won’t ask any of you to do jobs at the synagogue that I am not prepared to do myself.

So take this home and play with this puzzle. It is possible to do it over again. Nothing is carved in stone but it is useful tool as we approach this new year.

It is not a craft project per se, so take another deep breath. Breath in G-d. Breath out stress. Know that you are standing on holy ground, wrestling with the Divine and finding meaning. Happy New Year

The list:

• Appreciation of beauty
• Gratitude
• Love of learning
• Perspective
• Wisdom
• Curiosity
• Creativity
• Judgment
• Fairness
• Justice
• Leadership
• Teamwork
• Perseverance
• Bravery
• Courage
• Resilience
• Honesty
• Contentment
• Prudence
• Temperance
• Forgiveness
• Humility
• Kindness
• Social intelligence
• Humanity
• Love
• Humor
• Hope
• Spirituality
• Faithfulness