Va’era 5785: Heavy Heart and Stubborness

I feel like I need a glass of wine for this:
Dam Tzefardea Kinim Arov Dever Sh’chin Barad Arbeh Choshech Makat Bechorot
The Ten Plagues. Our text today has us in the middle of them. We know this story so well.
This stop and start. The stop and start. This will they be released. Won’t they be released. I am pleased to announce that yes, four more hostages were released today. Baruch atah Adonai, eloheinu melech ha’olam matir asurim. But that is not enough. 

Shlach et ami, Let my people go. All of them. From the youngest little Bibas. To the oldest. Alive or dead. When the Israelites were finally freed, they took the bones of Joseph with them, as they had promised 400 years earlier, so he could be buried in the Land of Israel. Rescuing captive, hostages, is a high value in Judaism, and Jewish communities all over the world still hold designated funds specifically for this mitzvah.  

The early part of our portion gives us lines we know so well from the Passover Haggadah. Four parts of redemption. Four promises of G-d: 

  • I will take you out: God will rescue the Israelites from slavery in Egypt  
  • I will save you: God will free the Israelites from the penalty of sin  
  • I will redeem you: God will equip the Israelites to accomplish his plans for them  
  • I will take you as a nation 

But the Haggadah asks if there is a fifth promise, because the redemption is not complete. I will bring you…to the land that I promised to your ancestors, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. This is why we have Elijah who appears to the Passover seder. To bring redemption. To herald the messianic age, where there will be peace throughout the world. Where there will be no more wars and no more hostages.  

 Yet in our text, there is problem. Pharaoh’s heart is hard. Heavy. Pharaoh is stubborn. Sometimes it seems that he hardens his own heart. Is it fear? He’s afraid he will lose his source of labor? His power? Will these slaves attack him?  

Or as the text also says, is G-d hardening Pharaoh’s heart? How does that work if we have been given free will? Doesn’t Pharaoh have a choice? Y friend, Jeanne Pinard of blessed memory, taught me this. Pharaoh keeps making choices. Every time he chooses badly, his heart is hardened a little more. He is so very stubborn. He is more concerned with his own interests than those around him.  That’s how G-d hardens his heart.  

 While we remember each of the plagues, which punished the Egyptian Pharaoh and his people alike, we remember the midrash that G-d rebuked the angels from celebrating. “My creatures are downing, and you rejoice?” We can’t rejoice over the pain Pharaoh and G-d caused to the Egyptians. Or in today’s day, the very real pain caused to Palestinians, or frankly the hostage families by waiting to come to terms on a ceasefire. That was stubbornness. How many fewer people, including Hersh would be dead if the plan had been accepted in May? 

At times while wandering in the wilderness the Israelites, themselves were also described as stubborn. One of our Psalms from Friday night even says, “Harden not your heart in the ways of your ancestors who tried Me and tested Me in the wilderness, even though they had witnessed my miracles.” 

Stubbornness can be good. It can lead to survival. It can lead to perseverance. It can lead to resilience.  

This is a week where hope seemed in short supply. Where compassion and empathy seemed to be waning. Where the promised redemption is not yet complete. Last week I mentioned Edmund Fleg, a French philosopher who wrote this in 1927: 

I am a Jew
I am a Jew because my faith demands of me no abdication of the mind.
I am a Jew because my faith requires of me all the devotion of my heart.
I am a Jew because in every place where suffering weeps, I weep.
I am a Jew because at every time when despair cries out, I hope.
I am a Jew because the word of the people Israel is the oldest and the newest.
I am a Jew because the promise of Israel is the universal promise.
I am a Jew because, for Israel, the world is not completed; we are completing it.
I am a Jew because, for Israel, humanity is not created; we are creating it.
I am a Jew because Israel places humanity and its unity above the nations and above Israel itself.
I am a Jew because, above humanity, image of the divine Unity, Israel places the unity which is divine. (After Edmond Fleg, “CCAR Rabbi’s Manual”, page 203-4) 

The world is not yet complete, we are completing it. His words, as complicated as the world is, give me hope. They are like the famous John F Kennedy quote from his inaugural address: “Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country” 

I have a new friend, Ruth Gursky, from my running world. One of her friends, Rabbi David Okunov, who I don’t know taught this hope this week: 

“There are times when we all feel like our efforts don’t matter. It’s easy to become discouraged and question our purpose. But Judaism teaches us a powerful truth: everything we do matters, even when we can’t see the results. 

The Midrash tells us about the frogs in Egypt, seemingly insignificant creatures, who fulfilled their ultimate purpose by jumping into ovens during the plague of frogs, as described in this week’s Torah portion. Their act wasn’t random—it symbolized breaking Egypt’s defiance and making G-d’s presence known. If even frogs can fulfill a divine mission, how much more so can we, who are created in G-d’s image. 

Every mitzvah, every act of kindness, every good deed, adds to the beauty of the world and brings us closer to our purpose. You were created with a unique mission that no one else can accomplish. 

Never doubt your worth. You matter, and your actions have the power to transform the world.” 

I will be stubborn.  I will believe in you. And your actions to transform the world. I refuse to give up on the hostages. On working for peace. On loving my neighbor. On supporting the widow, the orphan and the stranger. On being caretakers of G-d’s beautiful creation.   

I refuse to give up on kindness. On compassion. On empathy. On hope. And sounding just like the song Imagine, “I hope you will join me. And the world will live as one.”  

Sh’mot 5785: Be Like Moses and Heschel and King

This is a weekend designed for us to think about leadership. This is the weekend that we begin to read the book of Exodus, Sh’mot in Hebrew. It is also the weekend we observe Dr. Rev. Martin Luther King jr, we mark the yahrzeit of Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel and his birthday too, and yes, there is an inauguration as well.  

In these first few chapters of the Book of Exodus, we see a lot of models of leadership. We see Miriam who hides Moses and quietly takes matters into her own hands to ensure the baby’s survival. We see Shifra and Puah who speak truth to power and enable the baby boy Israelites to be born. We see Batya, Pharaoh’s daughter who plucks Moses out of the water and takes him into the palace as her own. Perhaps she is the first foster mother. We see Tzipporah circumcising her son in order to protect him and her husband.  

And of course we see Pharaoh, Moses and Aaron.  

This is a story we know well. Our Haggadah retells the story and begins: 

We were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt, and the L‑rd, our G‑d, took us out from there with a strong hand and with an outstretched arm. If the Holy One, blessed be He, had not taken our fathers out of Egypt, then we, our children and our children’s children would have remained enslaved to Pharaoh in Egypt. Even if all of us were wise, all of us understanding, all of us knowing the Torah, we would still be obligated to discuss the exodus from Egypt; and everyone who discusses the exodus from Egypt at length is praiseworthy. 

Don’t worry. This is not a Simon seder who always wants to emulate the rabbis of B’nei Brak. We won’t be here until midnight.  

But what does it mean for Moses to be called to go to Egypt and deliver what seems to be a simple message. “Shlach et ami. Let my people go.” He didn’t think he could do it. And he has real concerns. He doesn’t speak well. He worries that he will be killed since he himself killed the Egyptian taskmaster. And he likes his life as a shephard in Midian. Why should he go. But go he does. For 15 months we have had people, leaders, demand that Hamas, “Let my people go,” and today we stand on the cusp. Perhaps it will happen this weekend. Perhaps there will be a ceasefire and a cessation of violence. Dare we hope for peace? 

G-d sends Aaron to meet Moses. To help him deliver the message to Pharaoh. In what ways are we called to meet Moses and help?  

The vast majority of the portion we read today deals with the taskmasters. Our Haggadah text talks about  

“. . . My father was a wandering Aramean. He went down to Egypt few in number and sojourned there; but there he became a great and very populous nation. The Egyptians dealt harshly with us and oppressed us; they imposed hard labor upon us” (Deut. 26:5-6). . . . “And oppressed us,” as it is written: “They set taskmasters over them in order to oppress them with their burdens; the people of Israel built Pithom and Raamses as store cities for Pharaoh” (Ex. 1:11). 

Each of us is to see ourselves as though we were slaves in Egypt, that we were brought out of Egypt with a strong hand. What did it mean, then that Pharaoh and the taskmasters oppressed us, to impose hard labor upon us? Those cruel taskmasters made us make bricks but no longer supplied the raw material, the straw and still we had to make bricks at the same rate.  

While it might be good for the taskmasters, it was not good for the slaves, the worker bees. The real issue here was the taskmasters didn’t care. There was no compassion. No empathy.  

We probably know how Martin Luther King was assassinated in April of 1968. Standing on the balcony of his hotel in Memphis. But why was he in Memphis at all: 

On 1 February 1968, two Memphis garbage collectors, Echol Cole and Robert Walker, learn their names, were crushed to death by a malfunctioning garbage truck. Eleven days later, frustrated by the city’s response to the latest event in a long pattern of neglect and abuse of its primarily black employees, 1,300 black men from the Memphis Department of Public Works went on strike. This trike went on and on…and as we know everyone wants garbage collection. Let’s review: Hamas won that election in the Gaza Strip because they promised three things: schools, water and yes, garbage collection. King was there in Memphis to lend his support to the striking workers who were looking for dignity and compassion, safety and better working conditions. 

King did not live to see a resolution of that strike, nor many of the goals the Civil Rights movement. We are still not there yet. In a famous speech the night before his death a weary King, preached about his own mortality, telling the group, “Like anybody, I would like to live a long life—longevity has its place. But I’m not concerned about that now … I’ve seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight that we, as a people, will get to the Promised Land” (King, “I’ve Been to the Mountaintop,” 222–223). 

His concerns still happen in our modern world. Once when I was working for a sales lead generation firm, the owner, my boss, did not treat his employees well. One winter I got bronchitis, and my physician told me I had to take the rest of the week off. My boss’s response was to cut everyone’s sick time from four days a year to two. When one of my team members needed to go to the hospital because she couldn’t breathe, I sent her and another employee with her. He then yelled at me because I had caused us to lose two people’s productivity. There are more stories like that from there, and I didn’t last much longer, but I think about that when I read stories about Amazon warehouse or delivery workers, organizing at Starbucks, or the Imokelee tomato workers,  

Don’t worry, goes the theory. They can just find another worker. They are just cogs in a wheel. Right?  

Jewish workers have been at the vanguard of the organized labor movement. Perhaps hearkening all the way back to when we were slaves in Egypt. That ability to organize, Slowly over time, has resulted in things we often take for granted: safety in the workplace. The 40 hour work week, access to health care and day care. Pensions. Sick time. Labor Day itself.  

https://jewishcurrents.org/a-short-history-of-jews-in-the-american-labor-movement  

As we move into this new book of Exodus this year, and this new world that may not value individual worker, it behooves us to think about the leadership styles of those women of Exodus, and of Abraham Joshua Heschel whose feet were praying with Kind, and of Martin Luther King, and of Moses himeself.  

What set Moses apart as a leader:  

Moses didn’t want to lead. He wasn’t convinced that he had the skills. He was pretty sure he would fail. With the help of G-d, he surrounded himself with people who could help. Aaron went with him to Pharaoh to be his mouthpiece. 

Here’s one description of how Moses’ style influences the business world today: 

“The Bible sketches an ambitious list of leadership traits ascribed to Moses, including humility, empathy and heroism, but also patience, self-reflection, charisma and wisdom, among others. Although few can emulate all of these traits, humility is one that stands out. The Book of Numbers stresses that “Moses was a very humble man, more so than any other man on earth” (Num. 12:3). Hence, humility was clearly deemed an important trait and one that ought to be emulated by more people aspiring to lead others. After all, what is humility but the opposite of arrogance? Most people have an understandable dislike for arrogant leaders.” https://www.woolf.cam.ac.uk/blog/moses-as-a-model-for-effective-leadership  

Moses took care of his frustrating, kvetching, complaining people. With a great deal of what we might call chutzpah, this man with a speech impediment, successfully  argued with G-d to preserve them.  

But perhaps the most important thing we learn is that Moses was humble.  

 

 Now Moses himself was very humble, more so than any other human being on earth. (Numbers 12 : 3)  

We are told at the end of Deuteronomy, “Never again did there arise in Israel a prophet like Moses—whom יהוה singled out, face to face,” (Deut 34:10) 

Our job: Be like Moses and Heschel and King.

 

Vayechi 5785: Endings and Beginnings, Resilience and Hope

A piece of Talmud I have been thinking about all week often gets taught this way:
when one hears a fire truck going by with sirens wailing, one shouldn’t pray “please, God, let it not be my house burning” — either it is, or it isn’t, but the prayer won’t change whatever is already real. But where does this come from in Talmud? There were not fire engines back in the day. It comes from Berachot 9 and the idea that we should not say a prayer over something that has already happened or that is in vain. Sometimes this applies to medical diagnoses as well. We may already, for example, have cancer. We can’t change that now. We can manage how we respond to it. Rabbi Harold Kushner’s book is not “Why bad things happen to good people, but “when.” That doesn’t mean that the response is easy.  

Similarly, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel as cited in Gates of Prayer before the Amidah, as an intention, a kavanah which we used last night and this morning, said, 

“Prayer cannot bring water to parched fields, or mend a broken bridge, or rebuild a ruined city; but prayer can water an arid soul, mend a broken heart, and rebuild a weakened will.” 

“Pray as if everything depended on G-d; act as if everything depended on you. Who rise from prayer better person their prayer is answered.” (Gates of Prayer, page 157) 

Last night we talked about what we would put in a “go bag.” We talked about the samovar in my office that was carefully carried from Russia by the Goldstein family. It is heavy, brass, beautiful. And you could pack things inside of it. For thousands of years Jews have been forced to leave and leave quickly, all the way back to the Exodus from Egypt, the story of which we begin to retell next week. Sometimes people leave because of threats of violence. Sometimes in times of famine. Sometimes because of natural disaster. Our Haggadah begins the story with these words: “Our father was a wandering Aramean.” which is actually how Deuteronomy begins to retell the story.  

 Often, I play a game with our kids in Torah School—and sometimes even with adults at our seder table. You have 18 minutes to leave Egypt. What are you taking with you. Sometimes we do it in alphabetical order.  

This is no longer a drill. And not just in Southern California. We have had people displaced in our own community. Paul and Lynne Glaser in Ashville. Anita Silverman by fire at her senior living complex and now resettled but it took long months. And while her senior cat was rescued by the Schaumberg Fire Department, he was not welcome in her new apartment. Judy Richman from Del Webb when the tornado roared through last summer. The point is clear. Everyone should have a go bag. A list of what goes in that bag is included as a public service announcement at the end of this d’var Torah.  

We have a prayer, “Ma Tovu Ohalecha Ya’akov.” How lovely our own dwelling places, O Jacob, our sanctuaries O Israel.” They are indeed lovely.  But all too often we leave them and the belongings that are in them. 

While the dwelling places are lovely, the most important thing is the lives they contain. This week I made phone calls to fire victims in California on behalf of Congregation Or Ami in Calabasas in the Palisades. It’s what we’ve been talking about all year. It’s about connections. Community. The Amen Effect. It was something I could do. From here.  

Almost all the people I texted with or spoke with said the same this. They described themselves as lucky. Sad, maybe even depressed, missing family heirlooms and history and memories. Photos, art, Steinway pianos. And lucky. 

Sometimes we think that the jewelry, the china, the silver are our legacies. I look around my living room. Things I have acquired over a lifetime. Over several generations. But they are not really legacies. What is a legacy? 

Today’s portion is a bit of a challenge. Jacob is at the end of his life. He is “blessing” his sons. 

“The God of your father, who helps you,
And Shaddai who blesses you
With blessings of heaven above,
Blessings of the deep that couches below,
Blessings of the breast and womb.
The blessings of your father
Surpass the blessings of my ancestors,
To the utmost bounds of the eternal hills. 
May they rest on the head of Joseph,
On the brow of the elect of his brothers.” 

 

What follows is a “blessing” for each son. But they feel much more like a blessing and a curse:
Benjamin is a ravenous wolf;
In the morning he consumes the foe, 
And in the evening he divides the spoil.” 

 I don’t really want to be called a ravenous wolf as a blessing!

Perhaps the legacy, the blessing needs to be balanced. Balance is a key word. How do we maintain our balance when the world seems so out of kilter? What hope do we offer the next generations? How can I even dare to offer hope at times like these? What is the blessing in this moment? 

As you know, Simon and I hike extensively. 38 states and 5 foreign countries. One of our most memorable hikes was from Topanga Canyon Road down to where the MASH filming site was in Malibu Creek State Park. For me, it was thrilling (and exhausting because it was hike down and then hike back up!) as a big fan of MASH. But perhaps what was most magical was creating memories with our adult kids. One other critical hike was in Estes Park, CO in the Rocky Mountain National Park. The ranger we were hiking with talked about the growth after the fire there now many years ago. Almost immediately, little ferns begin to grow. Those bright green shoots fill me with hope. Earlier this week I saw a blog post about precisely this. “Look for the miracles,” the woman, she herself had been through a devastating fire several years ago, wrote. “Look for the ferns.”  

In another destructive fire, I was moved by a family who returned to their burned home to find the mezuzah still intact. I am considering buying mezuzot (I have ones in mind from Israel) to send to people at Or Ami. It is a way that we rededicate ourselves.  

Other times I have quoted Mr. Roger who used to say: “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” Our job is to find the helpers. Our job is to be the helpers. That’s how we “love our neighbors as ourselves.”  

Looking for the miracles and looking for the helpers is how we build resiliency. It is how we build community. It is how we build hope. Even in the worst of this current crisis there is evidence of hope. Life will continue (for most). Life will be changed. There will be mourning and grief. But life will continue. 

That mourning includes anticipatory mourning. Jacob did something else in this what could be called a “deathbed scene.” He left detailed instructions. He was to be buried not in Egypt but back in Canaan, back with his ancestors, with Abraham and Sarah, and Isaac in the cave of Machpelah. Joseph was able to convince Pharaoh to let him go to do this. All the dignitaries went too. In a scene reminiscent of this week’s state funeral held at the Washington National Cathedral with burial back in President Carter’s birthplace of Plains, Georgia. 

But after the burial at Machpelah, Rabbi Menachem Creditor reminds us of a midrash on this portion. Joseph returned to the pit where his brothers once threw him in. (Genesis Rabbah 100:8). He transformed this moment from trauma—real trauma—to gratitude. This is not easy to do. Creditor continues, citing Rabbi Matthew Berkowitz “comparing it to survivors revisiting places of profound suffering: a soldier returning to a battlefield, a Holocaust survivor journeying to a concentration camp (Returning to Joseph’s Pit, 2025). These acts are not about erasing pain but about reclaiming agency and gratitude, even in the face of profound hurt.” 

Joseph and his brothers mourned for Jacob after the burial for seven days. Ever wonder where the tradition of shiva comes from? Right here! 

This “pre-planning” is a real gift to your family. A blessing, a legacy. We have talked about this before. Part of your legacy might be writing an ethical will, so your children and grandchildren know your values. Part of it maybe offering forgiveness for things said, and those not said. Part of it maybe making clear the funeral plans.  

As we conclude this morning, we pray for healing. For ourselves, for our nation, for the people of California and Florida and Tennessee and North Carolina, for all of Am Yisrael including the hostages and the IDF and all those displaced from their homes, in the north of Israel, in Gaza, in Syria, in the Ukraine. ANd may we go forth from this book of Genesis stronger into Exodus where we are taught that we were wandering Arameans and slaves in the land of Egypt so that we have an obligation to be helpers, to welcome and love the widow, the orphan and the stranger. Chazak, chazak v’nitchazek.  

Before Misheberach:

A Prayer for Firefighters and First Responders
Blessed are the hands that pull others from the flames,
scarred hands, calloused hands, trembling hands,
hands that grip hoses and axes,
hands that steady the world when it shakes.
Blessed is the courage that rises
stronger and higher than smoke —
the courage that steps into the chaos,
the courage that doesn’t flinch at the sound of breaking glass and metal,
that doesn’t stop even when the air burns and the ash falls.
Blessed is the heart that holds two truths at once:
the knowing that life is fragile,
and the stubborn faith that saving one life
is enough to hold up the universe.
We pray for the strength to carry the burden of this holy work.
For lungs that can breathe through the thickest soot.
For arms that will not falter,
even when the weight feels unbearable.
And we pray for their return.
For safe passage through the fire, the flood, the storm.
For nights where they can rest,
and mornings where they can hold their children
without the smell of smoke on their skin.
May they know that we see them,
that we hold them in the deepest parts of our hearts,
that their work is sacred,
like the flame that burns but does not consume.
Blessed are the ones who run toward the danger,
who wade into the waters,
who carve paths through the wreckage—
not because they are fearless,
but because they refuse to let fear have the final day.
Let them be guarded by something larger than themselves:
a voice in the wildness saying,
“You are not alone. You are not alone.”
And may the Holy One—by whatever name they call—
watch over them always,
and bring them back home.
Amen.
     Sarah Tuttle Singer 

 Before Candle Lighting, both Friday night with two tapers and Saturday night for havdalah where those tapers become one “fire” with multiple wicks, usually representative of the community coming together:  

Burning Hope by Paul Kipnes 

Last night, two fires raged to within 5 miles my three holy places: our home, our synagogue Congregation Or Ami, and my father-in-law’s house. We packed, prepared to evacuate, only to see amazing firefighting teams knock the fires down. Lying in bed this morning, trying to figure out what comes next, I felt a flicker burning within. Which became … 

Burning Hope
By Paul Kipnes
A flicker in the endless dusk,
A spark that whispers, Not yet lost.
Beneath the ash of dreams lifelong,
A stubborn ember, frail but strong.
It dances through the choking smoke,
Defying winds that would revoke
Its fragile right to blaze anew,
A beacon for the shattered few.
The world may press with heavy hands,
May scatter stone and barren sands,
But hope, though burning, never dies—
It smolders soft in weary eyes.
Overnight, as fears are cultivated,
It refuses to be evacuated.
A quiet hope to heal the earth,
Through morning’s light, it finds rebirth. 

I saw this one of Facebook and didn’t snag the author, so I apologize. If I find it I will add the attribution. We talk a lot about balance at CKI. It is true of some of our basic elements as well. Water and fire. They are both necessary and can be destructive. She captures this:

FOR BLESSING AND NOT FOR CURSE 

Creator of all things,
your creations fill the Earth. 
With a simple glance I
behold the bounty 
of your makings.
The living creatures of
flesh and breath,
the foliage which feeds,
the elemental powers which
we attribute to your actions.
We cannot simply pray 
for abundance when too much 
becomes a curse.
Reliant on the rain
whose waters sustain
in scarcity 
delivers death with drought
in abundance
engulfs and drowns.
Reliant on the fire
whose heat warms 
in scarcity
bears fatality with frost
in abundance
engulfs and incinerates.
The same water which
fuels can flood.
The same fire which
fuels can destroy.
We cannot pray them away.
Creator of all things,
we pray for balance
blessing, not curse
life, not death
satiety, not want
knowing one shifting wind
can change our fate.  

Go bags:

From the Westchester County Website: 

  • Bottled water and nonperishable food, such a s granola bars 
  • Personal hygiene items (toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, wet wipes, etc) 
  • Flashlight, hand-crank or battery-operated AM/FM radio, and extra batteries 
  • Portable cell phone charger 
  • Notepad, pen/pencil, and marker 
  • Local street maps (paper version) 
  • Spare home/vehicle keys 
  • Whistle or bell 
  • First aid kit 
  • Dust mask to reduce inhalation of dust and other debris 
  • Work gloves 
  • A change of clothing (long sleeve shirt/pants, rain gear, sturdy footwear, etc.) 
  • Copies of important documents (insurance/medical cards, contact lists, identification, marriage and birth certificates, etc.) in a portable, waterproof container or plastic bag 
  • Back-up medical/assistive equipment and supplies 
  • A list of the medications you take, why you take them, and the dosages 
  • Cash, in small bills 
  • Supplies for your service animal or pet 

 

In my go bag, I will also put one piece of irreplacebale jewelry that was my grandmother’s, a daisy pearl pin and a piece of silver that rode out the Chicago Fire in 1871. My daughter plans to take her first Disney medal.  

 

Vayigash 5785: Famine, Migration, Reconciliation

This is a portion about reconciliation, about survival, about migration. It feels like a recap of all the themes of Genesis which we wrap up next year. 

Joseph finally sees his father again. Hallelujah! 

Joseph is amazed that his father is still alive. How is that even possible. “So Joseph ordered his chariot and went to Goshen to meet his father Israel; he presented himself to him and, embracing him around the neck, he wept on his neck a good while.” (Gen 46:29) 

This is an emotional scene for both of them! Let’s remember, Joseph was thrown in a pit and sold into slavery. Then the brothers told their father that Joseph was dead and showed him that famous coat of many colors soaked in animal blood.  

This part of the d’var Torah may need a trigger warning. No parent should have to bury a child as the conventional wisdom says. Yet it happens all too frequently. To even members of our own congregation. Jacob maybe flamed the sibling rivalry with that coat, but the brothers should not have tricked their trickster father.  

Children are often angry with the way parents parent. There is a new trend in the United States of adult children, often sons of fathers, who cut off ties with their parents, primarily the fathers. If you google for this trend you will find lots of articles. Perhaps the best one may be behind a paywall but worth finding it is from the New Yorker magazine. https://www.newyorker.com/culture/annals-of-inquiry/why-so-many-people-are-going-no-contact-with-their-parents I encourage you to read it if you can get to it. 

But Israel when he get to Egypt and sees Joseph says “Then Israel said to Joseph, “Now I can die, having seen for myself that you are still alive.”” (Gen. 46:30) 

They and the brothers found a way to reconcile. It isn’t easy. And it is important to note in the Maimonides guide to teshuvah if someone sincerely apologizes three times and it isn’t accepted, it is on the other person. 

Joseph then presents Jacob also known as Israel to Pharaoh who wonders how old Jacob is. 130 is the answer. Pharaoh promises to take care of him and Joseph’s brothers.  

Pharaoh comes up with an equitable arrangement. Declaring that of their holdings, 1/5 and only 1/5 would be Pharaoh’s and rest of the holdings would be for Jacob and his descendants. This seemed to please everyone and our story end with this line: 

“Thus Israel settled in the country of Egypt, in the region of Goshen; they acquired holdings in it, and were fertile and increased greatly.” (Gen 47:27) 

Fertile and increase. P’ru u’vru. The same language that is used at the beginning of Genesis when G-d commands Adam and Eve to be fruitful and multiply.  

Next week we read the very last of Genesis and then move on to Exodus where we learn that after 400 years a new Pharaoh arose who knew not Joseph. The Israelites did in fact multiple and Pharaoh was afraid that they would attack the Egyptians and there were not enough resources to go around.  Does that sound familiar? 

We are told to make Kiddush for two reasons. One to remember Creation. And one to remember the Exodus from Egypt, another great migration story.  

While this was written thousands of years ago, the underlying themes are still relevant in our day. 

Famine…migration because of famine…enough resources…even to our own day. People talk about the Great Migration when so many Irish arrived on these shores. Who read Grapes of Wrath, one of my all time favorite books but perpetually on banned book lists. That was internal migration during the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl from Oklahoma to Bakersfield, CA. Who can forget the picture of the Syrian boy in the red t-shirt who died on the coast of Turkey trying to reach Greece. These images are likely, sadly, to increase with famine from climate change dominating the news. 

https://www.migrationpolicy.org/article/emerging-crisis-famine-returning-major-driver-migration 

People are often forced to make impossibly difficult choices. Food, heat, medicine, medical care. The number one reason in this country for bankruptcy is medical debt. 58% of Americans are living paycheck to paycheck and many are one paycheck away from bankruptcy and could not afford a $1000 emergency expense.  

While moat of us no longer live on farms that is part of what was driving Joseph’s brothers and his father to seek relief from famine in Egypt. 

Here in Elgin, we are lucky. With the help of organizations like Food for Greater Elgin, and Elgin Cooperative Ministries, we manage to feed the hungry seven days a week. As we approach Martin Luther King Day, we will once again participate in the Elgin Martin Luther Food Drive, which support many of our local pantries, not just Food for Greater Elgin. Over the next two weeks, we will ask you to bring non-perishables to CKI which we will then deliver towards the total count. It is this kind of coming together, just like Jacob, Joseph and his brothers, that brings me hope.  May we be blessed in the new year to not experience famine, separation of families and hard choices between food, heat and medicine.