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.