Perhaps this is the journey of all of us. For seven weeks, those between Passover and Shavuot, we took on studying the Book of Ruth. After Shabbat morning services and then again on Sunday mornings with my confirmation girls. Seven weeks, four chapters and a lifetime.

This is an ancient text and a modern text.

The discussions were so rich; we need to preserve them. While we read the text in English—more than one translation, we learned to look at the Hebrew just to be sure our understanding was close to correct, and to see why different translations chose different words. Remember, every translation is a commentary.

What follows are our findings—and our questions. Chapter by chapter.

The Book of Ruth is traditionally read in synagogues on the holiday of Shavuot. It doesn’t have any real historical events behind it. Nor are there any miracles, per se. It is set at the time of the barley harvest and that might be the connection to Shavuot. It is set in the time of the Judges, before the Kings, although it will lay out its connection to the Kings at the end of the story.

What it memorable of the main characters according to Steinsaltz is “not their fastidiously correct behavior, but for their personal decisions to conduct themselves with kindness and generosity toward one another.”

That’s the harvest we need more of these days, kindness and generosity.

For seven weeks, it was like being back in rabbinical school with heartfelt discussions, the back and forth of a yeshiva, some laughter—OK really giggling, and a deep appreciation of this book and our tradition. It was magical.

You know the story. Now come learn the rest of the story with us as we journey through the text together.

This ancient text and this modern text.

Chapter One:

In the days when there was a famine in the land, when the judges (or the chieftains) ruled, Elimelech and his family moved to Moab. Our first question was why was there a famine, or even, what is a famine? And why was Bethlehem. Beit Lechem, the House of Bread, out of food? The text makes clear that this is Bethlehem in Judah, as opposed to the one in Galilee. In order to survive, the rich Elimelech took his family to Moab where the conditions were better.

Does this make them amongst the first refugees? Asylum Seekers? Are we reading an ancient text or a modern one? What is Moab’s responsibility to them? Hospitality is prized in much of the Middle East, even today. What is our responsibility today to welcome the stranger, the widow, the orphan? How do we handle famines? Refugees?

His sons married Moabite women. What? We thought that after wandering in the desert we were forbidden from having contact with the Moabites, let alone marrying them.

Elimelech and his sons died. Leaving Naomi, his wife, and his two daughers-in-law, Ruth and Orpah, with no one to care (or protect) for them.

They arose (from their mourning, we wondered?) and returned to the fields of Moab because she heard that the Lord (the Israelite Lord) pakad (took note, remembered, visited) G-d’s people. To give to them bread. The Hebrew is beautiful here. Lateit lahem lechem. This verbs echoes the story of Sarah, who G-d pakad, and gives Isaac.

Now that the famine is over, Naomi is going back to Judah—a scary prospect to be on the road alone as a widow. She implores them to return, each of them to their mother’s house. We were surprised that it was not her father’s house. And she blesses them, imploring G-d to show kindness to them as they have shown kindness to her.

Naomi is bitter. She is fond of her daughters-in-law but cannot provide for them and urges them to return the homes of their birth. Orpah agrees to return home but Ruth clung to her mother. Three times Naomi tries to convince Ruth. Return. Return. Return. (Verses 11, 12 and 15) Does this mirror the tradition of turning a potential convert away three times?

Naomi sees how determined Ruth is. The Hebrew is Mitametzet which could be translated full of courage. Like Moses said to Joshua, “Be strong and of good courage, chazak v’emetz.” Rashi said that this verse is derived from the Talmud (Y’vamot 47b) that we should not put additional barriers in front of potential converts to Judaism, but that they should be welcomed. Again, we have an ancient text and modern text. Fully layered.

Ruth makes a declaration… “For wherever you will go I will go; wherever you lodge, I will lodge, your people will be my people and your G-d my G-d.”

And the two of them walked until they arrived in Bethlehem. The town was abuzz about their return. In Hebrew it echoes the beginning of Genesis. It was in chaos, tahom. That couldn’t really be Naomi! And Naomi begs to be called Mara because the Lord has made her bitter.

Now despite the prohibition of referring to a convert after the conversion as a convert, the text at this stage makes clear that it is Ruth, the Moabite, who had returned from the fields of Moab.

One remaining question…what happened to Orpah? She exits stage left and is not heard from again. One of our members, wrote a modern midrash of Orpah which I may, with his permission, share later.

Chapter Two:

Naomi had a kinsman, a Gibor Cha’eil, a mighty man (soldier) a man of valor which parallels Proverbs description of a “Woman of Valor, Eishet Cha’eil”. This man, Boaz, was related to Elimelech and while we don’t know much about him from the text itself, other commentaries link him being a Judge in Bethlehem.

Ruth, the Moabite, which the text seems to emphasize still, begs Naomi to go glean. The use of the word “na” implies she is asking permission. Much like a teenager saying that she is going to the mall. We had much discussion about the tone here. Depending on the translation you get different understandings. There she is hoping to “find favor in someone’s eyes,” a classic Biblical phrase. Moses found favor in G-d’s eyes. Naomi grants her request and says surprisingly, “Go my daughter,” since Ruth is a daughter-in-law.

Cue the Hollywood music here. She went and gleaned and the field happened to be the field of Boaz. He blesses the reapers with a traditional blessing and they echo, “Yivarechecha Adonai, May the Lord bless you,” a reprise of the priestly blessing in Numbers. Boaz inquires about who the young lady is. We wondered about the use of the word “na’arah” since in truth we are not given many clues to Ruth’s age. However, while she doesn’t have children, she was married. Again we are told she is a Moabite young woman from the fields of Moab. One who has been standing in the fields from morning to night. It is surprising that Boaz didn’t know who she was. It is also surprising that she rested in a house, not a sukkah. A sukkah was used in the fields to provide shade. A sukkah was used during pilgrimage holidays. I still think this should be a sukkah, not a house!

This is an ancient text and a modern one. He commands his men not to molest her according to one translation. Not to touch her according to another. Is this a #MeToo moment. Even back then men had to be ordered not to behave. Would they?

She fell on her face and prostrated herself…she is so grateful. Wait, aren’t we commanded not to bow down? Is this how Lord, Adonai, and my master, referring to a person get confused? She wonders why she has found such favor in his sight, even though she is a foreigner, a stranger. He answers because it is what she has done for her mother-in-law. His “blessing” parallels the command to Abram. She left her father and her mother, the land of her birth to go to a people she did not go. Just like Abram who “lech-lecha,” went forth to the Land of Canaan. He prays that she will find refuge, protection, “al tachat k’nafecha”, under the shadow of G-d’s wings. (We know that language from El Maleh Rachamin, which we chant on Shavuot as part of Yizkor.)

They ate pita and hametz (in this case vinegar!) together. And she ate and was satisfied, echoing the words of Birkat Hamazon, Grace after meals. And there was food left over. Perhaps the origins of the idea that even poor people need to give tzedakah. Or the modern organization Mazon.

Boaz orders his men to leave some sheaves for her to glean without shaming her—even some of the choicest without rebuke. How we treat poor people is important. We are not to shame them or rebuke them. From this she was able to glean about an ephah of barley, which was a lot, a more than she needed for herself and her mother-in-law.

When Naomi asked who has been so kind to her daughter-in-law and told it was Boaz, she exclaims, “Blessed be he to the Lord who has not forsaken His kindness to the living and to the dead.” And so Ruth lived with Naomi and continued to glean in Boaz’s fields.

Chapter Three:
The scene music changes again. Now Naomi has decided she needs to find a husband for Ruth and hatches a plan that their kinsman, acquaintance, friend Boaz, would take note of Ruth. She tells Ruth to bathe and anoint herself and to dress in her most attractive garment. (One commentary says her “Sabbath best” Ruth Rabba 5:12).

She should go to him at night and lie at his feet. And even uncover his feet. He will then tell her what to do.

This is an ancient text and a modern text. Say what? It is difficult to imagine that a mother, or a mother-in-law, would say that to a daughter. Did she just traffic her daughter-in-law? But for Naomi, bitter Naomi/Mara these are desperate times. Ruth agrees to the plan even though it does not fit within acceptable norms of modesty.

After work, Boaz ate and drank, maybe a little too much from the phrase, “until his heart was merry.”

Cue new music here.

And it came to pass at midnight. Anyone else expect the Angel of Death to show up, or to pass over the house of Boaz? She praises him and calls him, her “redeemer”. And she told him to spread his garment over her. He then praises her and calls her an Eishet Chayil, a Woman of Valor, saying that the men praise her in the gates, the same language as Proverbs and paralleling the earlier language of “Gibor Chayil”, a Man of Valor above.

In order to protect their modesty, she slips out before dawn so that no one can recognize her, “before anyone could discern another”, similar language in the Talmud for when to say the morning Sh’ma. (Berachot)

Chapter Four:

Boaz went up to the gate (alah, aliyah. a spiritual going up to the seat of commerce) to bargain for Ruth’s release from the other, closer kinsman. He would purchase the field, and by extension Ruth (and Ruth’s family, Naomi). The other redeemer did not want to redeem her since she was a Moabite and at risk of ruining his inheritance. Israelites were forbidden from marrying converts from Moab or Amon even until the 10^th generation (Deut. 23-4-5) but the Talmud, we learned, says the prohibition only applies to Moabite men, not women, making this marriage possible if not common. The redeemer may not have been familiar with this law which is why he refused?

In any case, an agreement is reached where Boaz is to acquire the field, Naomi, Ruth the Moabite, as well as “the wife of the dead” which will perpetuate Elimelech’s name since the redeemer is worried about his own inheritance.

A complicated scene “as was the tradition in Israel” ensues where to seal the deal, the seller removes his shoe and gives it to the buyer as a testament, a symbolic expression that the deal is complete.

So Boaz, in front of everyone at the gate, acquired everything that was Elimelech’s and Kilyon’s and Mahlon’s from the hand of Naomi. And he acquired Ruth, the Moabite—still the Moabite, so that the name of Elimelech will be perpetuated and not forgotten. The people, the witnesses, blessed Boaz and Ruth, asking that G-d make her like Rachel and Leah. And Ruth bore a son. And Naomi placed that son on her bosom (was she nursing him, comforting him?) and they called that child Israel. The women called his Oved, the father of Yishai, the father of David.

The full genealogy is then listed from Peretz to David. Ruth is not heard from again, although the Talmud said that she lived to be old and to see the birth of her grandson David and great-grandson David. By linking her to Rachel and Leah, and leaving out the term Moabite, she is now fully accepted. She becomes the grandmother of David, the ancestor from whom the Messiah, the Redeemer, will come. It is perfect as a modern story and it brings us hope.

This is an ancient text and a modern text. Famine. Refugees. Hunger. Interfaith marriages. Conversion. Inheritance. Women’s rights. Land rights. And the lineage of the messiah.

Ultimately, this ancient text is about being kind. Maybe it is that very kindness that brings about the messiah.

Bibliography:

The Five Megilloth, The Soncino Books of the Bible, Hebrew Text and English Translation, Soncino Press Ltd, 1984

The JPS Bible Commentary: Ruth, Tamara Cohn Eskenazi and Tikva Frymer-Kensky, Commentary 2011, Translation, 1962, 1985, 1989, 1999 by JPS

Reading Ruth, Contemporary Women Reclaim a Sacred Story, Edited by Judith A Kates and Gail Twersky Reimer, Ballentine Books, 1994

Ruth: A Modern Commentary, Translation and Commentary by Leonard S. Kravitz and Kerry M. Olitzky, URJ Press, 2005

The Steinsaltz Tanakh, Megillat Ruth, Rabbi Adin Even-Israel Steinsaltz, Koren Publishers Jerusalem, Ltd. 2015, 2018

I always knew I would have to write this piece one day. For some of you, most of you, this may not be a popular response to recent events. You may think I am wrong. That’s OK. We’re Jews. We argue.

I thought about not writing. Not speaking. Maybe silence is better.

To my friends who are so sure. I am not. I think that this week requires a great deal of nuance. It is not black and white. This is an attempt to provide nuance, context and history. Let me be perfectly clear. Israel has a right to exist and needs to exist. But does Israel need to shoot children? And does Hamas need to use children as cannon fodder?

I am just a small town rabbi. A student of Israel politics for 40 years but I am no expert. If I thought I could solve peace in the Middle East I would go to Fletcher or the Kennedy School. But alas…

My relationship with Israel is complicated. I grew up believing in the hope of Israel. The David and Goliath version. Israel needed to exist so that no matter where Jews were persecuted they had a home to return to. Israel was home.

Like 16 of my Confirmation classmates, I journeyed to Israel in 1977 as part of a NFTY study tour. I fell in love. In 1981 I returned to Israel and learned about more the complexities. I lived there for a year. In Jerusalem. I was the victim of a violent crime and had to testify in Hebrew. I dated an Israeli soldier who was killed in 1983. We were supposed to get married. Every trip to Israel is marked with an intensity that no other travel contains. Every rock. Every trail. Every sidewalk café contains a memory. A story. These staccato sentences, my life experience, color my understanding of Israel.

When I returned I wrote an op-ed piece for a Brandeis publication justifying the “Incursion into Lebanon,” by Jewish law. It was before the internet so I doubt a simple google search will find it. Probably there is a hard copy somewhere in my basement. It does not represent my feeling any more.

Part of my rabbinic thesis was written on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. I concluded that cycles of violence cannot be quelled until people feel safe. Not in generations of domestic violence, not in German Jewish relationships after the Holocaust, not in Israel. We are now three and four generations into this conflict. Israelis don’t feel safe. Neither do Arabs.

Yesterday saw the United States open its long-promised embassy in Jerusalem. I can remember standing in front of the former embassy in Tel Aviv and wondering why it wasn’t in Jerusalem. Yesterday saw (continuing) riots in Gaza, by last count 55 people killed and over 2000 wounded, some of them children.

Those are facts. I believe they were predictable. Hamas has a proven history of using children as human shields. Israel has a history of practicing restraint. Yesterday, there was no restraint. Could there be restraint? Should there have been? Do we hold Israel to a higher standard? Should we?

For 70 years Jews have celebrated the return to having a Jewish state. It is a source of pride. Israel is technologically advanced. Has made the desert bloom. And they have created a haven for Jews from around the world. They are the first to show up at any natural disaster around the world with their excellent medical and rescue expertise. I celebrate, too.

When you arrive at Ben Gurion airport and head to Jerusalem, you go up, you make aliyah, you ascend the mountain road on the way up to Jerusalem. It is a spiritual ascension as well as a hard climb. For thousands of years, Jews have prayed to not forget Jerusalem. For thousands of years, Jews have prayed, “Next year in Jerusalem,” at the end of the Passover seder.

But in the middle of the Passover seder, we spill out some of our wine during the recitation of the plagues. Why? Because, as G-d reminds us in the midrash, we are not allowed to rejoice at the killing of G-d’s creatures. No matter what your politics, the Palestinians in Gaza or on the West Bank are people too, created b’tzelem elohim, in the image of G-d. They have hopes and dreams for their children and their grandchildren. Many of them, most of them want to live in peace.

We have to keep that dream alive. The dream of the story I told this week of where the Temple was built, on a hill where two brothers with different life stories, came together and shared wheat. Where Hiney Ma Tov was penned, “How good and how pleasant it is for brothers to dwell together.”

Can those brothers dwell together? Can there be a path to peace? That is what I pray for every day. That is what I work for when I support organizations like New Israel Fund (NIF), Rabbis for Human Rights, T’ruah, Hadassah, IRAC. And Parent’s Circle—Families Forum, whose homepage says, “We are the only association in the world that does not wish to welcome any new members into its fold. We work towards stopping violence.”

This week, there will be new members of the Parent’s Circle.

Herzl said it, “If you will it, it is no dream.” It is echoed in the National Anthem of Israel, in HaTikvah, The Hope, “To be a free people in our land.” I share that dream. I cannot give up on that dream.

It is why we will celebrate Israel at 70 again this Friday night with a MishMosh musical Kabbalat Shabbat service featuring mostly Israeli music…some of that music that I learned bouncing on a bus in 1977. Oseh Shalom and Jerusalem of Gold will have even more meaning. They are the aspirations of what we hope for, what we pray for.

It is why we are beginning to plan a congregational trip to Israel that will feature plenty of opportunities for a first hand look and deep listening so that we have a better understanding.

I am just a small town rabbi. I don’t have the answers. But I know this. The violence must stop. On all sides.

On a day where many Jews wanted to celebrate, I feel only deep sadness.

In order to understand Israel I recommend the following books and articles:

http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/the-moral-challenge-of-gaza/

https://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2018/05/israel-palestine-embassy-legitimacy/560291/?utm_source=atlfb

The Case for Israel, Alan Dershowitz
Lemon Tree, Sandy Tolan
My Promised Land, Ari Shavit
Not in G-d’s Name, Jonathan Sacks
Walking Israel, Martin Fletcher

And a brand-new one just out this week.
Letters to my Palestinian Neighbors, Yossi Klein Halevi, already loaded on my Kindle

If…then…

If you obey my commandments then I will….

“If you follow My laws and faithfully observe My commandments, I will grant your rains in their season… you shall eat your fill of bread and dwell securely in your land.” (Leviticus 26:3-5)

But, likewise, we are also told: “If you do not obey Me, I will discipline you sevenfold for your sins… and though you shall eat, you shall not be satisfied.”(Leviticus 26: 18, 26).

This is a tricky portion. We sit here with some severe weather alerts and downpours. I don’t really believe that if there is a tornado or hail that it is G-d punishing us for some slight. And I don’t really believe that saying this out loud will cause G-d to hit this building with lightening. That’s not how my G-d works.

There are plenty of people who do. Every time there is a natural disaster, some preacher will be on TV claiming it is G-d’s punishment for something or other. For instance, several that Hurricane Katrina was G-d’s punishment for legalizing abortion, homosexuality, not being prepared for terrorists or even the US permitting the withdrawal of Israel from Gaza. http://www.ethicsdaily.com/fundamentalists-view-hurricane-katrina-as-gods-punishment-cms-6269

All three Abrahamic traditions in their fundamentalist incarnations had their interpretations of that one.

There is a relatively new theology, prosperity gospel that is rooted in this kind of thinking. That good people will be rewarded and bad people will be punished. It doesn’t work for me. Where does that leave the hungry, the homeless, the oppressed? The widow, the orphan the stranger.

The God I believe in created us b’tzelem elohim, in the image of G-d, to love one another—our neighbors, the widow, the orphan, the stranger. To take care of the earth. To be partners with G-d in creation. To be a light to the nations. To provide hope. To make the world a better place.

So in my world view, I am not waiting for G-d to provide food for the hungry, I am planting the corners of my field. I am engaging in other acts of tikkun ha-olam, repair of the world.

This is a tricky text but it is a radical one. It continues the recipe for holiness, for kedusha.

It is very clear that if we do X then G-d will do y. It is the language of covenant, of brit. It is about being in a covenantal relationship. A holy relationship.

What is a covenant?

It is an agreement. It is a promise. Between G-d and people. Originally, a brit was a treaty, a contract “cut” between the Hittite rulers in the ancient Near East in the 14^th and 13^th centuries BCE to make clear the relationship between a royal suzerain and the vassals that served him. These contracts, whether between the Hittite rulers or between G-d and man, were asymmetrical, reflecting an imbalance of power and spelled out the dire consequences if the contract was not fulfilled. An oath was sworn, outlining the conditional, terrible punishments, sometimes signed in blood, to make real the terms of the covenant.

This week we marked rainbow day. The day where the midrash teaches us that G-d promises never to destroy the world again by flood. The sign of that promise is the rainbow.

“I have set My rainbow in the cloud, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between Me and the Earth.” (Genesis 9:13)

The midrash teaches that the biblical flood began on the 17^th day of the second month, exactly one lunar year and 10 days, (or a complete solar year) before Noah, his family and all the animals left the ark, on the 27^th day of the second month. That day is the 42 day of the counting of the omer. Exactly today. The day when G-d made that covenant that G-d would never destroy the world by flood again—or in the words of the Negro Spiritual—not by flood but by fire next time. The sign, the signature of that covenant is the rainbow.

Perhaps we will be surprised by a rainbow today. The weather is right for it.

G-d made a covenant with Abraham. His descendants would be a numerous as the stars in the sky and the sands of the sea. Abraham would mark his flesh—and that of his menfolk, by circumcision as a sign of this covenant. G-d renewed the covenant with Abraham, with Isaac and Jacob, promising that we would live long on the land that G-d promised to our ancestors. That covenant was signed in blood–with the ceremony of brit milah. Zipporah took matters into her own hands, when she circumcized Moses’s son.

Then we have Shabbat, which we talked about at length last week. Shabbat is the sign of the covenant between Israel and G-d. For six days G-d created the heavens and the earth and on the seventh day G-d rested and was refreshed, re-souled.

Then we have Torah, which we will celebrate more fully next week as part of Shavuot. We actually have a tradition of signing a ketubah, a marriage contract, between Israel and G-d. The sign of that covenant, the dowry if you will, is the Torah itself. If you obey My commandments, then I will give you rain in its season and provide you with enough to eat. You will eat and be satisfied. What then do we promise G-d?

Typically, these ketubot, common is Sephardic congregations, use various piyutim, poems and verses from scripture, including: “I will betroth thee unto Me for ever; yea, I will betroth thee unto Me in righteousness, and in justice, and in lovingkindness, and in compassion. And I will betroth thee unto Me in faithfulness, and thou shalt know the Lord” (Hosea 2:21-22) and “I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel” (Jeremiah 31:31).

Here today we have one more covenantal relationship to celebrate. Today we will celebrate the upcoming marriage, kiddushin or Jeanette and Chris. When you enter into a marriage, it is a holy relationship, a covenantal relationship, one of holiness, kedusha, one set apart, and unique, one for another.

The ketubah is again a sign of that covenant. There are many modern texts. Jeanette and Chris have picked one that promises each other that they have entered into the covenant of marriage, that their love will provide them with the courage to fulfill their shared dream. They will support each other for personal growth and that they will be honest, loyal and devoted to one another as they create a loving future together. They will treasure life’s joys and comfort each other through life’s sorrows. They will build a home filled with loving affection, laughter, wisdom, generosity and respect. They will weave their commitment to the Jewish people and culture into the fabric of their lives. They will act in ways that show compassion for all humanity and respect for the earth, while creating balance in their lives, practicing gratitude and being sensitive to each other’s needs.

We celebrate their covenant to one another with them as we call them to the bimah for a special blessing.

Today is Mother’s Day, and while I am proud to be a mother, I am also missing my mother. Perhaps she would have been proud of me. It was a good week. I was awarded the Betty Brown Racial Justice Award by the YWCA of Elgin. It is very humbling. I don’t do this work in a vacuum. I have lots of partners in Elgin including those at the Y.

My mother and I did lots of rallies for justice together when I was a young child in Evanston. She ran for park commissioner because when she asked why the swings were not up, she was told, “Those people might sit on them.” As a Girl Scout we did lots of “service projects” to make the world a better place. I was a leader of a troop in Grand Rapids “Center City” when I was a junior in High School. I’ll never forget being in a Brownie Ring asking for Christmas traditions and every girl knew that her mamma called “Santa’s Girls” and that’s where the presents came from.

Mother’s Day is a peace holiday. It was not started by Hallmark. There are many claims to the first American Mother’s Day. There were some observances by women whose sons were fighting on opposite sides of the Civil War. They were not prepared to lose another son to war. Ann Jarvis started a Mother’s Friendship Day in 1868 “to reunite families that had been divided during the Civil War.” Julia Ward Howe led a “Mother’s Day for Peace” anti-war demonstration in New York on June 2, 1872 which led to the first Mother’s Day Proclamation.

The first year after my mother died, I stood outside the gates of the White House leading an interfaith service for peace. This year will find me running a race shortly where the charity is Wings, an organization dedicated to preventing domestic violence.

Today is also Yom Yerushalayim, Jerusalem Day on the Hebrew Calendar. It is the day in 1967 when Jerusalem was reunited. Jersualem actually means City of Peace. Ir=City. Shalom=Peace.

This past week, as a partner with Gail Borden Public Library, Coalition of Elgin Religious Leaders, Elgin City of Peace, I hosted an event at CKI called Stories of Peace. I knew I wanted to do it this week and I knew exactly what story I wanted to tell.

We all know the story. The legend of the two brothers. Every rabbi I have ever known has told this story. It is the story of how King Solomon chose the spot to build the Holy Temple.

Once upon a time, there was a farmer who left his two sons his land. (It is always sons, never daughters except for the daughters of Zelophehad in Numbers 27, who do inherit their father’s land, but that is another story).

The two brothers each lived on the other side of a hill. One brother was married with several children. The other one lived alone. One night, the married brother lay awake thinking about how blessed he was and his brother had no one to help him with the harvest. He decided he must share his abundance. Which is exactly what he did. Under the dark of night, he climbed up the hill and down the other side with a sheaf of what and left it for his brother to find when he awoke.

Meanwhile, the other brother was also awake thinking about how fortunate he was. “I am just alone and have so much. My brother has so many mouths to feed. He surely needs some of my wheat.” Which is exactly what he did. Under the stars and the light of the moon, he hiked up the hill and down the other side and left a sheaf of wheat for his brother that he would find when he awoke.

In the morning, when each brother awoke, they were both surprised to find that each had the same number of sheaves as the previous day. So the next night, up and down the hill they went, filled with love for their brother and thankfulness for their blessings. Each night this “miracle” of the sheaves was repeated, until one night their paths crossed and they hugged. That is the exact spot that King Solomon chose to build the Temple. And as we were taught, that is the basis of the song, “Hiney Ma Tov” from Psalms. “How good and how pleasant it is for brothers to dwell together.”

That’s the end of the story, right? Maybe not. Where did this story come from? I had always assumed it was from the Talmud or the midrash. Not so fast! Louis Ginzberg has it in The Legends of the Jews, and in his footnotes he references Israel Costa’s Mikveh Yisrael (Livorno, 1851). Alexander Scheiber published a bibliography with various origins and different versions of the story. The first mention is from Alphone de Laartine who recorded it from Palestinian Arabs in 1832. I even found one mention that it was an Indian Muslim story and someone else told me it was a retelling of the Gift of the Magi.

There are at least three children’s versions:

• Brothers: A Hebrew Legend, by Florence Friedman (the version I wound up telling)
• One City, Two Brothers, by Chris Smith
• The Two Brothers, a Legend of Jerusalem, by Neil Waldman

Which ever tale you tell, pray for the peace of Jerusalem. It would be a good thing on Mother’s Day, especially this Mother’s Day. And for you mothers, step-mothers, aunts, mother figures, dad who are mothers, thank you!

Here is a full source list:

Louis Ginzberg, Legends of the Jews. In the old JPS edition the legend can be found on 4:154 and a discussion on 6:293-294.
Bin Gorion I-Micha Joseph Bin Gorion, Mimekor Yisrael, ed. by Emanuel bin Gorion, trans. I.M. Lask, intro. by Dan Ben-Amos, Indiana University Press.
Bin Gorion II-Micha Joseph Bin Gorion, Mimekor Yisrael: Selected Classical Jewish Folktales, abridged and annotated edition, ed. by Emanuel bin Gorion, trans. I.M. Lask, intro. and headnotes by Dan Ben-Amos, Indiana University Press. Although this edition has fewer legends, it has better notes and bibliographical material on each legend. See the bibliographical notes for this legend on p. 272.
Alexander Scheiber, “The Legend about the Temple Location in Jerusalem” in Essays on Jewish Folklore and Comparative Literature, Budapest, 1985, pp. 291-299.
Haim Schwarzbaum, Studies in Jewish and World Folklore, Berlin, 1968, pp. 462-463
Eliezer Segal, “The Founding of Jerusalem: A Palestinian Midrash?”
Zev Vilnay, Legends of Jerusalem, JPS, pp. 77-78.

Pizza. This morning I want to talk about pizza. And Wendy’s. Not my usual topics for Shabbat morning.

But first, let’s sing this together.

Yism’chu v’malchut’cha, shomrei Shabbat v’korei oneg.
Am m’kad’shei shvi-i, kulam yisb’u v’yitangu mituvecha.
V’hashvi-i ratzita bo v’kidashto, chemdat yamim oto karata,
zecher l’maaseh v’reishit.

Those who keep Shabbat by calling it a delight
will rejoice in Your realm.
The people that hallow Shabbat will delight in Your goodness.
For, being pleased with the Seventh Day, You hallowed it as the most precious of days, drawing our attention to the work of Creation.

Good. You know it. Although since it is part of our musaf service we don’t often sing it. Maybe we should sing it more often!

Last week we talked about the central portion of the Torah, the holiness code, where we are commanded, “You shall be holy, for I the Lord your G-d am holy. “Then it gives us a recipe for holiness. (Maybe I’m just hungry this morning!)

That recipe concludes with “Love your neighbor as yourself.” As Hillel teaches us that is all of Judaism. The essence. The central message. The ikar. The rest is commentary, go and study it.

So today, we are going to study it. Today’s portion teaches us how to make time holy, how to sanctify it and set it apart.

We do that when we make Kiddush. The Friday night Kiddush tells us,

Blessed are You, Lord our G-d, Ruler of the universe, (some prefer to translate Ha’olam as time and space, that becomes important as we continue our discussion.)

who has hallowed us with G-d’s commandments, has desired us, and has given us, in love and goodwill, G-d’s holy Shabbat as a heritage, in remembrance of the work of Creation; the first of the holy festivals, commemorating the Exodus from Egypt. For You have chosen us and sanctified us from among all the nations, and with love and goodwill given us Your holy Shabbat as a heritage.

Blessed are You Lord, who hallows the Shabbat.

Two reasons are given for Shabbat: remembering Creation—and what a glorious morning this is—and the Exodus from Egypt. That circles back to “Love your neighbor as yourself”, we love our neighbors and the strangers because we were strangers in the land of Egypt.

When bless the Sabbath and make it holy we are bringing time and space together. Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote a slim little book, The Sabbath, a great work, a must read.

“Time and space are interrelated. To overlook either of them is to be partially blind. What we plead against is man’s unconditional surrender to space, his enslavement to things. We must not forget that it is not a thing that lends significance to a moment; it is the moment that lends significance to things.”

“Sanctifying the Sabbath is part of our imitation of God, but it also becomes a way to find God’s presence. It is not in space but in time, he writes, that we find God’s likeness. In the Bible, no thing or place is holy by itself; not even the Promised Land is called holy. While the holiness of the land and of festivals depends on the actions of the Jewish people, who have to sanctify them, the holiness of the Sabbath, he writes, preceded the holiness of Israel. Even if people fail to observe the Sabbath, it remains holy.”

“The Sabbath is a reminder of the two worlds—this world and the world to come; it is an example of both worlds. For the Sabbath is joy, holiness, and rest; joy is part of this world; holiness and rest are something of the world to come.”16”
― Abraham Joshua Heschel, The Sabbath
Shabbat is a gift, something to be treasured. A sign of the covenant between G-d and the people of Israel for all time, from generation to generation—that’s what we sing in V’shamru.

“The people of Israel shall keep Shabbat,
observing Shabbat throughout the ages as a covenant for all time.
It is a sign for all time between Me and the people of Israel.
For in six days Adonai made heaven and earth,
and on the seventh day God ceased from work and was refreshed.”

But sometimes, we lose track of the gift and see it as a repressive obligation. A list of 39 prohibitions, things we cannot do. Those things, which we looked at recently are tied to the work that was needed to build the Holy Temple.

What if, instead, we adopt Heschel’s understanding of Shabbat being a delight:

“Call the Sabbath a delight: a delight to the soul and a delight to the body. Since there are so many acts which one must abstain from doing on the seventh day, “you might think I have given you the Sabbath for your displeasure; I have surely given you the Sabbath for your pleasure.” To sanctify the seventh day does not mean: Thou shalt mortify thyself, but, on the contrary: Thou shalt sanctify it with all thy heart, with all thy soul and with all thy senses. “Sanctify the Sabbath by choice meals, by beautiful garments; delight your soul with pleasure and I will reward you for this very pleasure.”

What if we switch our mindset—and see it as a joy, “a palace in time” Heschel called it?

Joseph who loved the Sabbath, a delightful children’s book from the Talmud (Shabbat 119a), about Joseph is poor but no so poor. He saves up all week in order to celebrate Shabbat and savor the best that is there. The best challah. The best fish. The astrologers told his rich land-lord that Joseph would inherit all his property. So he sold all the property and bought a big jewel (the Talmud said pearl, Marilyn Hirsch says ruby). You’ll have to read the book to see what happens.

Joseph wasn’t alone in loving Shabbat and preparing the choicest meal for Shabbat.

From the same page of the Talmud, we learn this about the special Shabbat spice:

Joshua b. Hananiah answered the emperor, “Why has the Sabbath dish such a fragrant odor?” to which R. Joshua replied, “We have a certain spice called the Sabbath which we put into the Sabbath dish which gives it it’s fragrant odor.”

Heschel said it this way: “Unless one learns how to relish the taste of Sabbath … one will be unable to enjoy the taste of eternity in the world to come.”

This idea is not limited to “religious Jews”. Ahad Ha’am, the early secular Zionist said “Just as Israel has kept the Sabbath has the Sabbath kept Israel.

So that brings me back to Pizza and Wendy’s.

In the online magazine, Kveller, aimed at young families, recently there was an article about pizza. The title: The Secret to the Best Shabbat: Pizza. I was intrigued. Kids (and adults of all ages), love pizza. It’s simple to make. Or to call your favorite delivery service. This article argues that by going to the local pizza joint, the family reconnects. They play games at the table like 20 questions and charades and they begin to reclaim holy time. There’s no candles, no Kiddush, but even in the whirl of the pizza joint there is quiet and holy time and a family enjoying being together. So Shabbat dinner doesn’t need to be a fancy meal with chicken and matzah ball soup. It can even be take-out pizza. A way to relax into Shabbat and the weekend. It is an oneg Shabbat. A delight.

Kveller, and other sources also had an article about Shabbat at Wendy’s. Wendy’s you say? Yes! You should see the video in order to be charmed. And I haven’t been to a Wendy’s in years, part of T’ruah: Rabbis for Human Rights campaign to make sure that tomato workers in this country are paid a living wage. Wendy’s is the last hold-out of all the fast food companies to pay tomato workers a penny a pound more. That’s it. A penny a pound. But in Palm Desert, CA, there is a Wendy’s franchise where older residents gather for Shabbat dinner. They arrive by golf cart and Wendy’s reserves a table for them. They light candles and make Kiddush and order off the menu. And some of the isolation they feel during the week evaporates. They make time holy. It is an oneg Shabbat. A delight.

The joy of sitting around the table is one of the hallmarks of OneTable, the brainchild of non-profit entrepreneur Aliza Kline, no relation, who has started a foundation which is “an online and in-person hub for millennials to end their week with intention and create unique Shabbat dinners. Slow down, unplug, join together, and Friday.” They actually give these young people the where with all to “make Shabbes”. As their website tells it. “OneTable brings Shabbat to people in their 20s and 30s of all backgrounds. We believe that taking a step back, connecting with others, having moments of mindfulness, and enjoying great meals on a Friday night is important.” Vogue says about OneTable and Shabbat “Shabbat is for everyone. It is an ancient antidote to our modern ailments.” This is part of what we do with our summer program, “Shabbat on the Road.”

It is an oneg Shabbat. A delight.

Last night we had a pretty full house for Teacher Appreciation Shabbat. There was much joy as we ate dinner, enjoyed our placemats lovingly created by the parents and students, sang songs, used our new CKI Student Siddur. But what happened at the Oneg Shabbat was magical. Despite tired parents (and their children), people stayed and stayed and stayed. One generation or three, talking to another, enjoying each other’s company (and a chocolate ice cream cake). Plans were shared for an Israel trip. Paper airplanes were sailing around the room. Kids were happy—and not so tired any more. It was an Oneg Shabbat, a delight.

Six stories. Two from the Talmud. Four from today. Three ages of people. May we all find a way to move from a sense of obligation in our observance to a sense of joy and delight.

Love your neighbor as yourself. Make time holy. My last Heschel quote ties it together: “The Jewish contribution to the idea of love is the conception of love of the Sabbath, the love of a day, of spirit in the form of time.”

Maybe next week, I’ll have pizza.