For me, this is an optimistic portion. It brings me; it brings us hope.  

Last week we were told again to Listen, O Israel, Sh’ma Yisrael….this is language we know. Pay attention. Wake up! This week we are told to see. 

What are we to see? That there Is both blessing and curse in this world. It doesn’t mean that there will be no bad things that ever happen to us. No rather, there are blessings and curses, which later in Deuteronomy Moses and G-d will enumerate quite clearly.  

We can choose to see the blessing, even in the midst of what may feel like a curse. It isn’t easy. We are told by the rabbis of the Talmud that we should say 100 blessings a day. We should find 100 things we could be grateful for. Sometimes that seems impossible, even if our siddur gives us many blessings. Our services begins with Modah Ani, I am thankful for waking up again. Later in the service we say Modim Anachnu Lach, We thank You….sometimes I stand there I say to myself, just find one thing to be thankful for…and focus on that. It is part of my spiritual practice.  

And while we can focus on just one thing to find as a blessing, to choose that blessing, it can be harder when the world seems to be crashing down around you. That being said, I shy away from language like, “G-d never gives you more than you can bear” or “What lesson is G-d trying to teach you.” Those kind of phrases don’t help someone going through a real crisis.  

And yet, sometimes in the middle of a crisis, it is possible to see the good, to see the blessing. How do we do that?. It can be different for different individuals. Sometimes you can’t find the blessing until months or even years later. That’s OK!  

This portion tells us that there will be no needy amongst us—and then in the very next breath it says but if there are needy we have an obligation to take care of them. I am reminded of Tevye before his solo, “If I Were a Rich Man”, “G-d, it’s no shame to be poor, but it’s no great honor either.”  

Psalms teach us, and we sing in the full Birkat Hamazon, 

Naar hayiti gam zakanti v’lo ra’iti tzaddik neezav v’zaro m’vakesh lachem. 

I was young and I became old but I never saw a righteous person forsaken and his children searching for bread. (Psalms 37:25) 

Sadly, we have all seen people, even children, searching for bread, even in this, the land of plenty. Some Jews won’t even sing this line—both Chabad and Reconstructing Jews. But maybe there is there another choice? Mazon, a Jewish response to hunger, which CKI supports annually, says on their website: 

“There is no invisible line marking the boundaries of need. Hunger has not one face, but multiple. MAZON channels support from the Jewish community to end hunger in every community — a recognition that struggle is universal, and that human connection runs deep. Inspired by Jewish values and ideals, MAZON: A Jewish Response to Hunger is a national organization fighting to end hunger among people of all faiths and backgrounds in the United States and Israel.” 

Mazon is a blessing—and there dedication to helping end food insecurity helps us live out this week’s portion. 

This week Rochelle just chanted again for us her Bat Mitzvah haftarah. We are so proud of her. Her Bat Mtizvah project was to support the Moore Center that works on food insecurity in Marengo. Those needs have only continued to go up during the pandemic and with rising inflation. I know that Food for Greater Elgin has seen a rise in need of 40% in this past year.  

Recently the Northern Illinois Food Bank has moved into a much larger space to handle their rising needs. It was featured on Channel 5 News. What fascinated me was their new t-shirts. Together we thrive. And their slogan. Neighbors. Empowered. The Moore Center, Food for Greater Elgin and the Northern Illinois Food Bank are all blessings. Rochelle, who saw a need—of needy people—and supported the Moore Center is a blessing. 

The last line of the parsha is that we should bring a gift according to the blessing that G-d has bestowed upon us. Literally, a blessing is a gift. At the end of this parsha we learn how to celebrate Passover, with it mtazah, lechem oni, the bread of affliction (and the afflicted) the bread of the poor and humble. We know that our seder begins with the line in the Haggadah, “Let all who are hungry come and eat.” That is the theme of the haftarah—even if you are hungry and have no money come and eat, come and buy bread.  

Continuing, we learn that for Sukkot we should rejoice before G-d. Yes, we should be joyful! We should find ways to be happy, even in the midst of tragedy. The Puritans under Governor WIlliam Bradford knew this. They chose these very verses to host the First Thanksgiving. They celebrated Sukkot, the Festival of Thanksgiving, even tho that first winter had been so rough and the losses so great. They were able to see the blessings even in the midst of what must have felt like curses.  

As we continue to come out of this pandemic we know that not everyone has survived and the loses have been great—whehter health related or economic. The challenge remains to us who did survive to see the blessings. 

Will there continue to be needy people—probably. We have yet to eliminate those economic struggles. 

We have the power to choose between blessing and curse.  

For me, this is an optimistic portion. It brings me; it brings us hope.  

Last week we were told again to Listen, O Israel, Sh’ma Yisrael….this is language we know. Pay attention. Wake up! This week we are told to see. 

What are we to see? That there Is both blessing and curse in this world. It doesn’t mean that there will be no bad things that ever happen to us. No rather, there are blessings and curses, which later in Deuteronomy Moses and G-d will enumerate quite clearly.  

We can choose to see the blessing, even in the midst of what may feel like a curse. It isn’t easy. We are told by the rabbis of the Talmud that we should say 100 blessings a day. We should find 100 things we could be grateful for. Sometimes that seems impossible, even if our siddur gives us many blessings. Our services begins with Modah Ani, I am thankful for waking up again. Later in the service we say Modim Anachnu Lach, We thank You….sometimes I stand there I say to myself, just find one thing to be thankful for…and focus on that. It is part of my spiritual practice.  

And while we can focus on just one thing to find as a blessing, to choose that blessing, it can be harder when the world seems to be crashing down around you. That being said, I shy away from language like, “G-d never gives you more than you can bear” or “What lesson is G-d trying to teach you.” Those kind of phrases don’t help someone going through a real crisis.  

And yet, sometimes in the middle of a crisis, it is possible to see the good, to see the blessing. How do we do that?. It can be different for different individuals. Sometimes you can’t find the blessing until months or even years later. That’s OK!  

This portion tells us that there will be no needy amongst us—and then in the very next breath it says but if there are needy we have an obligation to take care of them. I am reminded of Tevye before his solo, “If I Were a Rich Man”, “G-d, it’s no shame to be poor, but it’s no great honor either.”  

Psalms teach us, and we sing in the full Birkat Hamazon, 

Naar hayiti gam zakanti v’lo ra’iti tzaddik neezav v’zaro m’vakesh lachem. 

I was young and I became old but I never saw a righteous person forsaken and his children searching for bread. (Psalms 37:25) 

Sadly, we have all seen people, even children, searching for bread, even in this, the land of plenty. Some Jews won’t even sing this line—both Chabad and Reconstructing Jews. But maybe there is there another choice? Mazon, a Jewish response to hunger, which CKI supports annually, says on their website: 

“There is no invisible line marking the boundaries of need. Hunger has not one face, but multiple. MAZON channels support from the Jewish community to end hunger in every community — a recognition that struggle is universal, and that human connection runs deep. Inspired by Jewish values and ideals, MAZON: A Jewish Response to Hunger is a national organization fighting to end hunger among people of all faiths and backgrounds in the United States and Israel.” 

Mazon is a blessing—and there dedication to helping end food insecurity helps us live out this week’s portion. 

This week Rochelle just chanted again for us her Bat Mitzvah haftarah. We are so proud of her. Her Bat Mtizvah project was to support the Moore Center that works on food insecurity in Marengo. Those needs have only continued to go up during the pandemic and with rising inflation. I know that Food for Greater Elgin has seen a rise in need of 40% in this past year.  

Recently the Northern Illinois Food Bank has moved into a much larger space to handle their rising needs. It was featured on Channel 5 News. What fascinated me was their new t-shirts. Together we thrive. And their slogan. Neighbors. Empowered. The Moore Center, Food for Greater Elgin and the Northern Illinois Food Bank are all blessings. Rochelle, who saw a need—of needy people—and supported the Moore Center is a blessing. 

The last line of the parsha is that we should bring a gift according to the blessing that G-d has bestowed upon us. Literally, a blessing is a gift. At the end of this parsha we learn how to celebrate Passover, with it mtazah, lechem oni, the bread of affliction (and the afflicted) the bread of the poor and humble. We know that our seder begins with the line in the Haggadah, “Let all who are hungry come and eat.” That is the theme of the haftarah—even if you are hungry and have no money come and eat, come and buy bread.  

Continuing, we learn that for Sukkot we should rejoice before G-d. Yes, we should be joyful! We should find ways to be happy, even in the midst of tragedy. The Puritans under Governor WIlliam Bradford knew this. They chose these very verses to host the First Thanksgiving. They celebrated Sukkot, the Festival of Thanksgiving, even tho that first winter had been so rough and the losses so great. They were able to see the blessings even in the midst of what must have felt like curses.  

As we continue to come out of this pandemic we know that not everyone has survived and the loses have been great—whehter health related or economic. The challenge remains to us who did survive to see the blessings. 

Will there continue to be needy people—probably. We have yet to eliminate those economic struggles. 

We have the power to choose between blessing and curse.  

This is a BIG Shabbat. We just read the 10 Commandments and the Sh’ma and Va’avata. It is also Shjabbat Nachamu—The Sabbat of Comfort” From the spiritual low point of Tisha B’av until the spiritual high point of Rosh Hashanah there are 7 weeks filled with haftarot of consolation, the return of instrumental music and opportunities to rejoice. Really, really rejoice and be comforted. This was a week that seemed to bring very little comfort to many. Whether you are concerned about Salman Rashdie, may he have a full, complete healing. Or climate crisis as we say more flooding in Las Vegas, Scottsdale and Tucson and as we were warned that California could have the most expensive natural disaster with a megaflood while places like Massachusetts and Europe are under severe drought. Or an attack on an FBI office in Cincinnati, or the recent vandalism at Reform and a Masorti congregation in Netanya on Tisha B’av. There is plenty to worry about, to even kvetch about.  

The haftarah begins with these words: Comfort, comfort My people says G-d. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem and tell her that her suffering is over.” 

On a very local level I am concerned about some very serious medical issues that congregants are struggling with. One family had three generations in hospitals yesterday. Their suffering is not over and the mother feels a little like Job. How do we support them adequately? I am concerned about inadequacies in the health care system and access to good, reliable mental health services. I am concerned about Elgin’s exploration of closing the Lord’s Park pool. You will hear more about that as the City Council wrestles with the issues of a shrinking pool of lifegaurds and an aging physical plant. 

We Jews. We learned how to kvetch—most certainly while we were wandering in the desert. And I am good at it too. I’ve even been known to tell people on the phone that I’m kvetching. I know I sound whiny. We even kvetch about the commandments. Why do we have to do them at all? 

This week we read the version of the 10 Commandments that states we are to “keep” or “guard”—or as our translation says “faithfully observe” Shabbat. In Exodus we learn we are to remember the Sabbath day—taken to mean to verbally sanctify it—with kiddush and candles and the signing of “V’shamru”, that reminds us that Shabbat is a sign of the covenant between G-d and the people of Israel for all times. By taking pleasure in Shabbat. 

How do we explain this difference…by saying in Lecha Dodi that “Shamor v’zachor bidibur echad. Remember and Keep were said as one.” This way there is no discrepancy, no mistake in Moses’s reporting of the commandments. While there are 39 Talmudic prohibitions on Shabbat, tied to the 39 categories of work to build the Mishkan which some people find daunting since no one likes to be told no, we are to take comfort and pleasure in Shabbat.  

One of the things we learn from Ahavah Rabbah and Ahavat Olam the prayer that thanks G-d for loving the Jewish people—recited even in the midst of suffering is that those very commandments, rules, laws that G-d gave us precisely as an example of love. Like a loving parent, G-d gave us limits and that too brings us comfort. 

As my friend and colleague. Rabbi Ariann Weitzman reminded her congregation yesterday. “Judaism is not a religion that encourages redemption through suffering.” G-d does not want us to suffer.  Her comments were a jumping off point for me. No, rather, she continued, “We are supposed to really take pleasure in life and lean into comforts.” As she tells her Tot Shabbat group, “We’ve got time to get out all our oys, (go ahead, try it now) but then we give thanks and we give thanks again.” 

That is part of the purpose of Shabbat. We are supposed to pause. To stop and give thanks. To enjoy that special Shabbat spice. To enjoy each other’s company. To experience a palace in time as Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel said, a foretaste of the world to come. 

Ron Wolfson wrote a book—The 7 Questions You’re Asked in Heaven. Five come from the Talmud, one from Reb Zusiya who on his death bed was crying, afraid he would be asked not “Why were not Moses but rather “Why were you not Zusiya. And the last, “Have you seen My Alps.” Why would G-d be asking Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, the intellectual giant of modern Orthodoxy, this question? 

“Soon, I will stand before the Almighty. I will be held answerable to many questions. But, what will I say when I am asked, ‘Shimson, my son, it is true you did many mitzvot, but did you also remember to see My Alps?” 

The explanation is that while we are commanded to keep or guard the mitzvot, we also need to experience pleasure—to enjoy all the Creation that G-d has given us—good food, good company, being outdoors in nature and being wowed by a sunset, a flower, the roaring ocean or the towering mountains of the mountains or the Alps, or the Rockies or the Tetons. It is even encouraged to have sex in the right time and place—a double mitzvah on Shabbat. 

We offer comfort to one another. Judaism commands us for instance to bury the dead and comfort the bereaved. We have a whole system for that. We host shiva minyanim and pray with them. We feed them. We remind them that even in their grief, they are loved. That they are not alone. We might stock their pantries and even tidy up their house as we are leaving. And when we do this, we discover that bringing them comfort brings us comfort too. Some of those traditions were disrupted during COVID and it has extended grief for many families.  

We do similar things for people who are ailing or for happier occasions like when babies are born with baby namings and brises or for weddings. For each of these, people feel that they are a little less alone. We need to relearn how to bring comfort to those who are hurting. We need to relearn how to comfort ourselves. Whether as Rabbi Weitzman said they divide into four categories—loving relationships, engaging with animals and nature, engaging in Jewish practice and finding joy. And I would add finding pleasure. Did you see My Alps?  

What brings you comfort? Family. Good health. A good book. A roof over my head. Parnasa.  

Following Rabbi Wetizman’s lead, this Shabbat and coming week, I’m going to pay special attention to the moments when I feel comforted and comfortable, whether that’s reading a good book, eating something I love fresh from the farmer’s market or Klein’s Farm Stand, snuggling with Caleb, wrapping myself in my tallit or calling a friend while out for a walk, or as she ends,  “knowing that I am loved in a universe that was built out of love. Shabbat shalom, and may it be one of comfort and joy.”  And then I will work to bring comfort to others.

“G-d will do battle for you.” Deuteronomy 3:22 

Today we start the Book of Deuteronomy, Devarim. It is Moses’s swan song, an ethical will if you will. It is Moses as his most reflective. He looks back and begins with some history of the Israelites wandering in the desert, just before they are ready to cross over into the land of Israel.  

As part of this, history we end our portion with this quote, “G-d will do battle for you.” It is meant as encouragement and it fits with “miracles” that the people have seen. The parting of the Sea of Reeds, the drowning of the horses and chariots, the smiting of people who stood in the way.  

Yet this idea leads to the idea that G-d is on our side—and that sense continues throughout our sacred texts: 

• Were it not for the LORD, who was on our side, let Israel now declare, were it not for the LORD, who was on our side when men assailed us, (Psalm 124:1-2) 

• “See, the Sovereign LORD is on my side! Who will declare me guilty? All my enemies will be destroyed like old clothes that have been eaten by moths!” (Isaiah 50:9)  
• “Then my enemies will see that the LORD is on my side. They will be ashamed that they taunted me, saying, “So where is the LORD— that God of yours?” With my own eyes I will see their downfall; they will be trampled like mud in the streets.” (Micah 7:10) 
• “But the LORD stands beside me like a great warrior. Before him my persecutors will stumble. They cannot defeat me. They will fail and be thoroughly humiliated. Their dishonor will never be forgotten.” (Jeremiah 20:11) 

You get the idea. There are plenty of other examples.  

We play this out in our national world too. If we go to war—then G-d will be on our side, right? Later in the Book of Deuteronomy we will learn the rules of engaging in a just war. Those rules are particularly apt this weekend as we struggle with the news coming out of Israel, where 350 missiles have rained down from Gaza. When will it ever end. We continue to pray for peace, shalom. 

When we enter football season, G-d will help us win the individual game, right? Some pray for that outcome. That has never seemed quite kosher, proper to me. Some modify those hopes and dreams by praying “May the better team win.” Or praying for no injuries.  

But then when something bad happens—we go the other direction. Questions abound. Why is G-d punishing me? Where is G-d? I feel so alone.  These are questions I get asked frequently, even this week, more than once, by more than one person.  Personally, I don’t believe that G-d punishes us. But each of you needs to come up with your own answers.  

These are the fundamental questions that we need to wrestle with and that may provide meaning ultimately in our lives. I have liked the book When Bad Things Happen to Good People. Note, the title is When Bad things Happen, not why. Explaining the why isn’t always possible. What Kushner does in the book is limit G-d’s power. G-d is loving. G-d is all knowing and beneficent but G-d gave humanity free will and we make choices that cause bad—and G-d can’t stop it because G-d gave us free will. That works for me most of the time. It is harder for me to reach this conclusion with natural disasters, another inflection point when people ask the question, why?  

Rabbi Toba Spitzer’s recent book G-d is Here begins to answer some of this question.  You will hear more about this book as we get closer to the High Holy Days.  

She says, “The religious imagination thrives on the human yearning to enter into emotional experience with some force vaster than ourselves.” 

She’s right. We want to feel connected. We want to know that we are not alone—even in the middle of the night when life might feel bleakest. We want to know that our lives matter.  

She continues that “Anthropologist Barbara J King suggested that religion evolved in our prehistory as a expression for a fundamental trait she calls belongingness—the undeniable reality that humans of all ages in all societies thrive in relation to others.” 

What if that connection frays? That is part of what has happened during the pandemic. There is something I believe is wrong in our society when we put the desires of the individual ahead of the needs of the community. When we lose touch with our friends and family and our religious communities. When we assume someone else will do it—whatever it is. There is a great series of videos developed by Temple Sholom in Cincinnati, even before the pandemic. BE SOMEONE ELSE By TEMPLE SHOLOM 

It actually isn’t Someone Else’s job. It is all of our jobs to make people feel welcome. To help people feel connected. To find community. To sustain community. To feed the hungry. To visit the sick. To take care of the widow and the orphan, just like our Haftarah this morning warns.  

We crave connection—to others and to G-d. When G-d created man, G-d then almost immediately created woman saying that it is not good for man to be alone.  

Like the quotes at the beginning that say that G-d is on our side, there are plenty of quotes to tell us that G-d is with us—a slightly different, and in my mind more positive message.  

Psalm 121 https://www.sefaria.org/Psalms.121.7?lang=bi is my favorite for that. It has echoes in the last verse of Adon Olam.  

“Into G-d’s hand I commit my spirit. When I sleep and when I wake. And with my spirit, my body, Adonai is with me, I have no fear.” 

We are not alone.  

I wrestle with Tisha B’av. For three weeks, beginning on the 17th of the Hebrew month of Tamuz we mourn the destruction of Jerusalem and the Holy Temples more than 2000 years ago. We mark the end of the Bar Kochba Revolt in 130 CE. We mourn the exile of Jews from England in 1290 CE and we mourn the expulsion of the Jews from Spain in 1492 CE. It is the saddest day on the Jewish calendar. 

We fast. We don’t wear leather. We sit on low stools. We read the Book of Lamentations. Alas! Woe is me! Oy vey! All for things that happened a long, long time ago. 

There is so much grief in this world. We need a container for it. We need to mourn. But quite frankly I don’t want to go back to animal sacrifices in centralized worship in Jerusalem. The rabbis of the Talmud, had their “Yavneh” moment, in exile in Babylonia. They re-invented Judaism. They pivoted from sacrifice to a religion of study, prayer and deeds of lovingkindness. Always with the hope that one day we would return to life as we knew it.  

Our traditional liturgy preserves that hope. “Accept the prayer of Your people Israel as lovingly as it is offered. Restore worship to Your sanctuary, and may the worship of your people Israel always be acceptable to You.” (page 36 Siddur Sim Shalom) “Help us turn to You, Adonai and we shall return. Renew our lives as in days of old.” (page 154 Siddur Sim Shalom) and the Musaf service for Shabbat which prays for a return to the land and to a return of our ancestors special Shabbat sacrifices. (page 158, Siddur Sim Shalom). Here in musaf there is an alternative reading that prays for the day when there shall be no more violence in the land or destruction within our borders. How relevant is that this week as once again missiles fly over Jerusalem this Tisha B’av? 

Why was the Second Temple destroyed? The rabbis of the Talmud teach because of Sinat Chinam, baseless hatred. Jew against Jew. A lack of respect. A lack of lovingkindness. A lack of love.  Rav Kook, the first Chief Rabbi in Palestine and then the State of Israel taught that the antidote to Sinat Chinam is Ahavat Chinam, baseless love. To quote an old song, “What the world needs now, is love, sweet love.” Lord, we need it. NOW.  

Many people, because it is in the heat of summer never even have heard of Tisha B’av, let alone observe it. My first experiences were in Israel in 1977 on a summer youth trip. It was haunting. But because we have returned to the land of Israel people only fasted until noon. At summer camp, kids may have had instructional swim but not free swim. No movies. No instrumental music.  

Every year we debate whether to hold a Tisha B’av service. We did again this year, totally on Zoom. It was well attended for us. We read the five chapters of the Book of Lamentations interspersed with appropriately mournful a cappella music.  

We looked at some modern poems.  

https://www.ritualwell.org/ritual/sackcloth-poem-tisha-b%E2%80%99av  

bclid=IwAR2IsSW6qdNSapIkFAs_V0OhRTLMwQu9t5zF2fh34mWsyCSVZ2eC-VtNtAY 

Eicha, a Lament for the Earth by Rabbi Tamara Cohen 

We read some of Betsey Stone’s new book, Refua Shlema. 

And we had a discussion. If, like the rabbis of old, we are on the cusp of something new coming out of this pandemic, what is it that you want from your community? What will Judaism look like for our children and grandchildren. How do we survive?  

And how do we get there? 

Then I taught about STAR goals, Thie are goals that are “specific, truly doable, active and relevant.” We added that they needed to be respectful as well.  

The discussion was rich.  

People mourned the loss of innocence and trust. Maybe before the pandemic we were too trusting and naïve. We can’t take everything for granted or assume that people share the same values. We need to nurture each other and take care of each other and not just look for someone to blame. We need to find ways to help everyone. We need to realize that many are stretched to the limits and that our health care system is breaking. We were a society of abundance and now we are seeing that there are shortages—not just in health care but with workers across the board. We need more patience. We need more compassion and less self-centeredness. We need to work for the common good. 

This did not get me where I was trying to go in terms of our own unique community but it was meaningful for the people who participated. 

There is plenty to mourn on this Tisha B’av. My STAR goal was to write to our city councilors about the possible permanent closing of a city pool. Ask me what that has to do with Tisha B’av and I will be happy to tell you. I have done that writing already. What will you do TODAY to make the world a better place?  

Although many traditional Jews do not read Pirka Avot on Tisha B’av, this quote is apt. “Ours is not to finish the task, neither are we free to ignore it.” Find one thing to do. Something you are passionate about. And do it.

I wanted people to leave with a sense of hope. That the world can be better. We ended with Rabbi Menachem Creditor’s Olam Chesed Yibeneh. I must build this world with love.  

https://rabbidavid.bandcamp.com/track/olam-chesed-yibaneh