STATEMENTS FROM CLERGY ON
ISRAEL & ANTISEMITISM
May 2024
Rabbi Rothman– Light in the Darkness – May 3, 2024
Rabbi Z – Light in the Darkness – April 26, 2024
Cantor Gladstone Martin – Light in the Darkness – April 19, 2024
Cantor Franco – Light in the Darkness – April 12, 2024
Rabbi Rothman – Light in the Darkness – April 5, 2024
Rabbi Z – Light in the Darkness – March 29, 2024
Cantor Gladstone Martin – Light in the Darkness – March 22, 2024
Cantor Franco – Light in the Darkness – March 15, 2024
Rabbi Rothman – Light in the Darkness – March 8, 2024
Rabbi Z – Light in the Darkness – March 1, 2024
Rabbi Sank Ross – Light in the Darkness – February 23, 2024
Cantor Gladstone Martin – Light in the Darkness – February 16, 2024
Cantor Franco – Light in the Darkness – February 9, 2024
Rabbi Rothman – Light in the Darkness – February 2, 2024
Rabbi Sank Ross – Light in the Darkness – January 26, 2024
Cantor Franco – Light in the Darkness – January 12, 2024
Rabbi Rothman – Light in the Darkness – January 5, 2024
Cantor Gladstone Martin – Light in the Darkness – December 29, 2023
Rabbi Z – Light in the Darkness – December 22, 2023
Rabbi Sank Ross – Light in the Darkness – December 15, 2023
Cantor Franco – Light in the Darkness – December 8, 2023
Rabbi Rothman – Light in the Darkness – December 1, 2023
Cantor Gladstone Martin – Light in the Darkness – November 24, 2023
Rabbi Z – Light in the Darkness – November 17, 2023
Rabbi Sank Ross – Light in the Darkness – November 10, 2023
Cantor Franco – Light in the Darkness – November 3, 2023
Rabbi Z – Gathering for Israel: Both/And – October 29, 2023
Rabbi Z – First Steps of Destruction – October 27, 2023 Erev Shabbat Sermon
Rabbi Rothman – Light in the Darkness – October 27, 2023
Cantor Gladstone Martin – Light in the Darkness – October 20, 2023
Rabbi Z – Light in the Darkness – October 13, 2023
Rabbi Rothman – Light in the Darkness
Email – May 3, 2024
Parashat Achrei Mot
We are in that time of the year when we do a lot of counting. Some of us are counting down to the end of school, the anticipation of graduation, and the excitement of summer vacation. In the Jewish community, our joyous secular celebrations are mingled with national Jewish commemorations of sadness and remembrance. As we count at this time of the year, we in the Jewish community hold an extra amount of heaviness in our hearts.
The Torah teaches that we should count seven weeks, from the second evening of Pesach until Shavuot (Lev 23:15). This period, known as Sefirat HaOmer or Sefirah, is traditionally marked with rituals connected to mourning and sadness; refraining from shaving, haircuts, and weddings. It is also the time where we mark national Jewish commemorations such as Yom HaShoah, Holocaust Remembrance Day, which begins at Sundown on Sunday evening. Our collective Jewish anxiety is certainly heightened with so much unrest in the world. But is there a deeper meaning to this period as we count? I am reminded of the psalmist who says, “Teach us to count our days so that we may acquire a heart of wisdom” Psalm 90:12. Wisdom comes from knowledge and knowledge is gained through community.
Twenty-four years ago, when I was a senior in High School, I was fortunate enough to be in Poland for Yom HaShoah on the March of the Living; an experience that helped me decide to become a rabbi. The wisdom I gained in that community and from that experience taught me what it means to value life. The following, while simplistic, is taken from a journal I kept during the trip:
“Right now I’m sitting…in the middle of Birkenau…where the railroad crosses. As I look around I see death on 3 sides of me. I see the main gate, I see the gas chambers, and I see the barracks. But on one side I see life. I see seven thousand men, women, and children…who weren’t killed by the Nazi’s. I see life. In seeing life I see hope."
- May 2, 2000
We can acquire a heart of wisdom by striving to make each day count. With so much uncertainty, let us turn to God to help us greet each day as an opportunity to celebrate life. At sundown on Sunday evening please light the memorial candle you received in the mail from Brotherhood and consider joining us at Temple Beth Israel for our community observance at 7:30pm. May this time of collective counting draw us closer to our community, to our tradition, and to our God.
Rabbi Z – Light in the Darkness
Email – April 26, 2024
Pesach 2024
Just before Pesach I wished someone a joyous Pesach, using the Hebrew greeting, chag sameach. With deep sadness this person responded, “I wish I could say that this year, but I just can’t. the best I can hope for is that this holiday be just a chag herut – a ‘festival of freedom’.”
As much as empathized with her feelings, I responded that now, more than ever, we must say chag sameach. During the Passover seder we remind ourselves that enemies, in every generation, seek to rob us of our ability not only to live, but to fully live – to enjoy the gift of life, the blessings of hope. Reflecting on her words, I wrote her back, sharing the words of the Piacezner Rebbe, Kalonymos Kalman Shapira, a rabbi who lived in Warsaw ghetto and who witnessed the death of his only son, daughter-in-law and child and wife. Writing from the Warsaw Ghetto in 1940 taught his students, “Not only at a time when things are going well for us shall we go in God’s ways, higher and higher. Even in distress and darkness, heaven forfend, we shall do so. When all is going well for a person, it is easier to serve God with joy, love and fervor. When, however, he is, God forbid, in trouble, he must make use of his situation, serving God with a broken heart and an outpouring of soul.” It is precisely from a place of brokenness, the Rabbi Shapira said, that we are most attuned to the Divine Voice.
Instead of avoiding pain, Shapira suggests that it is through the brokenness that we find a great inner strength. After 9/11 some researchers trying to determine how to help children face psychological trauma found that the best single predictor of children's emotional health and happiness was understanding their family's history. Family stories let children know that they're not alone, and that those who came before them celebrated triumphs and overcame struggles, just as they do. Stories of their family gave children a better sense of control over their lives, higher their self-esteem, and an understanding that they – like those before them – can be resilient, strong, even hopeful.
Based on this, at our seder this year I asked participants to share an item or share a story that taught them about freedom and resilience. That seder was one of the most memorable of my life as people shared remarkable tales of immigrants, facing physical challenges, overcoming spiritual crisis, having relatives who stood up for what they believed in the face of injustice, or were inspired by the courage of loved ones in the face of overwhelming challenge.
At the seder we reminded ourselves of the Jewish family story that reminds us that we can not only survive but thrive. The personal stories spoke to us of the gift God gives of freedom, not only a national redemption, but a spiritual gift of the power of us to transcend the pain and live freer, more resilient lives. We are all like the broken piece of matza, but we can choose – as we do at the seder – to allow the next generation to find ways to restore the shattered pieces of our lives. Truly, it is with – and through - the brokenness that we find the resilience and hope to “choose life”.
Cantor Gladstone Martin – Light in the Darkness
Email – April 19, 2024
Parashat Metzora
If you’re reading this, you might be too old to be tasked with reciting the Four Questions at your seder on Monday.
While it is customary for the youngest person at the table to ask what makes the night of Passover different than any other by singing Mah Nishtana, The Four Questions are among the oldest strata of the Haggadah.
Four different verses in the Book of Exodus command parents to explain deliverance from slavery to their children. The seder ritual is an attempt to fulfill those commandments through symbolism and storytelling, teaching young people about the hardships their ancestors faced and the strength and benevolence of God. As a result, much of the Haggadah reads like a Q&A session between parent and child — from the Four Questions, to the Four Children.
The first rabbis were eager to steep parents and children in the ways of their people — a notion that motivates Jewish leadership to this day. For better, and for worse, from pedagogy to enslavement, and from fighting oppression to longing for redemption — the ancient themes of Passover live on.
In the footsteps of our earliest rabbis, we are tasked with the sacred duty of passing down these traditions mi dor l’dor - from generation to generation - ensuring that each remains connected to our collective heritage. This year, as we reflect on the enduring history of our people, and grapple with our current reality, let us hold fast to the ultimate lesson of our faith - that even in the darkest times, there is always hope for a brighter future.
Cantor Franco – Light in the Darkness
Email – April 12, 2024
Parashat Tazria
I wanted to be an astronaut when I was growing up. It was, in part, that we were able to watch the rockets launch from Cape Canaveral from our schoolyard. But it was also something much larger. I was always struck by the idea that there was something much grander than what we experienced on earth. So, I was very excited about the opportunity to witness a solar eclipse this week. I didn’t travel to the path of totality like some people, but I was ready with my glasses watching the clock on Monday afternoon. A group of us gathered in the backyard of the synagogue, glasses on and eyes turned toward the sky. We debated the light, the temperature and the “feeling” in the air. When clouds rolled in, we sang Both Sides Now and waited. We said a blessing, praising God’s power in the universe despite the Talmud debating its appropriateness since an eclipse was seen as a sign of God’s displeasure with us.
And in between the science, it was clear to me that I was witnessing a miracle and the presence of God’s power. I was not alone. TV coverage of the event and social media all spoke a common theme. Our country, so divided and broken right now had found unity for a few minutes staring at the sky. We have a choice in what we see. Yes, there was a scientific phenomenon, but there was also a dose of the holy and miraculous for those who were willing to see it. In commenting on this week’s parsha Tazria, the Talmud asks “If the Kohen looks, shall he not see? This is to teach us that his eyes must be open looking upon it, as he inspects the one who comes.” The Torah repeats the verb “to see” many times and in many forms as the priest is gazing upon the person afflicted with tzara’at. The priest must not just see the disease but must recognize the human being that stands before him. We can look but not see. We can see but not fully appreciate or understand what is before us. On Monday we saw the moon cross in front of the sun. But there was also an opportunity to acknowledge God’s presence in the universe and the power of being part of something infinite.
Rabbi Rothman – Light in the Darkness
Email – April 5, 2024
Parashat Shmini
Ever since I was a child, I have loved Pesach. Even before I understood the importance of retelling our Exodus narrative, I appreciated the preparation that went into the seder and the festive meal. My grandpa made the soup, my grandma prepared the brisket and the matzah balls - sinkers of course, and we gathered around the table to retell the story in our own words. To be clear, it was really in our own words because we didn’t read much of the Haggadah. Passover was always about family and food.
But as I got older, I began to understand what Pesach is truly about. In order to arrive at the seder ready to retell our story of freedom from bondage, we must be prepared both physically and spiritually. This coming Shabbat is also known as Shabbat HaChodesh as the traditional maftir Torah reading recalls the very first night of Pesach. But it also is the Shabbat where we announce the new Hebrew month of Nisan and begin to formally prepare for Pesach. Just like in the month of Elul when we prepare for the Days of Awe by doing an accounting of our soul, our tradition says that we should start to learn about the halachot, the laws of Passover at least thirty days before the holiday begins.
The Haggadah teaches: “B'chol dor va’dor - In every generation one is obligated to see oneself as one who personally went out from Egypt.” We learn from Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav that the “Exodus from Egypt occurs in every human being, in every era, in every year and even on every day.” It’s not enough to just clean our homes and buy and prepare the proper food. We must learn to internalize our Exodus so that Pesach is more than good food on the table.
In the coming days, I encourage you to dust off your Haggadah and find something in it that you never saw before. Take that new wisdom and share it at your seder. If you don’t have a Haggadah or you want a new one, please consider coming to our Judaic Shop Passover Boutique this Sunday from 9:00-11:00 am. Now is the time to begin removing the spiritual chameitz in your life so that you can be fully prepared to clean your house, prepare your food, and gather around the table. And just to be clear, this rabbis thinks “sinkers” are always better.
Rabbi Zeplowitz – Light in the Darkness
Email – March 29, 2024
Parashat Tzav
In the early days after October 7th, I was filled, as I know so many were, with emotions of shock, anger, despair, fear, and uncertainty. After the devastation of that attack on Israel many asked, “Is it at all possible to feel hopeful? Is there ever going be any chance for peace between Israelis and Palestinians?”
Not a prophet, but only a rabbi, I have no great foresight about what the future holds. It certainly is possible that things will get worse, with Palestinians and Israelis each becoming more nationalistic and less willing to engage in dialogue. Or it may be that things will muddle along as they have for the past generation, not with full war but more the simmering boil of occasional violence, limited military assaults, and political inertia. There is, however, a third possibility – that enough people on each side will rise up to say that enough is enough, that the past 75 years of strife is emotionally unsustainable, and there must be a new paradigm for both Israelis and Palestinians living “between the river and the sea.”
In the past month we have had the sad gift of hearing from four Israelis who came to speak to our congregation about life in Israel after October 7th. Two were from Project 24, who are helping empower Israelis deeply traumatized by the events of that day, to find ways to be restored to a sense of empowerment and life. A group of teens from Project 24 will be returning to our area in mid-May and you will hear more about that visit soon. We also heard on Mitzvah Day from Boaz Hochstein from Restart Global, who helps wounded soldiers find meaningful work and hope for the future. Restart Global will be our congregation’s tzedakah recipient in the coming quarter. Finally, 10 days
ago sculptor (and magician!) Yaron Bob, whose moshav was on the seam with Gaza, offered a powerful presentation. In the weeks after October 7th Yaron was emotionally paralyzed by what he witnessed that day. In time, however, he returned to his work as a sculptor, turning rockets fired by Hamas into Israel into jewelry and Judaica.
Yaron then showed us another project of his – taking a stone from the area around the ancient Temple in Jerusalem and sculpting a “living” tree of metal that seems to grow out of the very stone on which it sits. We purchased one of these and you can see it in the display case in the lobby of the synagogue. Purchase of this unique art piece fulfilled a “double mitzvah” – first, by providing work for an Israeli (such an act, the Rambam teaches, being the noblest act of tzedakah), and second, because all the proceeds will help children with special needs or who are hospitalized.
In this month between Purim and Pesach we are reminded that while there are enemies who, in every generation, arise against us, we Jews have always defined ourselves as “prisoners of hope”. Our new Tree of Life sculpture, a reminder of the symbol of our congregation – the mighty Atlas Cedar outside our sanctuary – will, I pray, remind us of the resilience and courage of all Israelis, and help us also to be strong and to never lose hope.
A picture of the Tree of Life. Information about the
sculptor and this piece that is a symbol of strength,
resilience, hope, and life can be found at this link.
Cantor Gladstone Martin – Light in the Darkness
Email – March 22, 2024
Parashat Vayikra
They say there are two types of Jews - Purim Jews and Passover Jews. I have always counted myself among the latter category, finding immense joy in planning Passover seders and even focusing my senior project in Cantorial school on the music of Passover. However, this year, the significance of Purim has taken on new and profound resonance for me.
This weekend, as we gather together to celebrate, I’m grateful for the opportunity to contribute to our Purim festivities by crafting Sunday’s Purim Shpiel. The story of Purim, as narrated in Megillat Esther, serves as a poignant reminder of our people’s enduring resilience in the face of adversity. Moreover, Purim’s inherent sense of playfulness and jubilation arrives as a much-needed balm for our neshamot (souls).
In chapter 8, verse 6 of Esther, Purim is described as a time of “light and gladness, happiness and honor.” The darkness of trauma and conflict casts a shadow over our celebrations. Nonetheless, we can find inspiration in the strength of our Israeli siblings, who, despite their trials, are donning costumes and embracing the spirit of Purim. Remarkably, amid crisis, Jerusalem - the city of my birth and spiritual home – is set to host its first Purim parade in over four decades.
Our hearts are heavy, and it is precisely during challenging times that Purim's light-hearted nature is most essential.
The Megillah tells us: “The same days on which the Jews enjoyed relief from their foes and the same month which had been transformed for them from one of grief and mourning to one of festive joy.” (Esther 9:22) These words echo through the ages, reminding us of the transformative power of joy amidst adversity.
May this Purim be a source of light and love for us all.
Chag Purim Sameach!
Cantor Franco – Light in the Darkness
Email – March 15, 2024
Parashat Pekudei
The synagogue where my husband, Alan celebrated his Bar Mitzvah, is now a Baptist Church. Temple B’nai Israel closed its doors and sold the building when they no longer had enough members to sustain the community. On a recent Sunday morning, I found myself in the 7-11 parking lot directly across from the synagogue building right as church let out. Worshippers exited the building in droves clearly excited or moved by the services they had just attended. The exit reflected a vibrant community. I thought to myself-even though synagogue may be gone, this place is still a house of God and isn’t that nice?
A sizable portion of the book of Exodus is devoted to the construction of the Sanctuary built by the Israelites. The Torah is uncharacteristically elaborate in the detail describing the building of the Mishkan. The fifteen materials used in the Sanctuary’s construction are listed three times; the items and furnishings of the Sanctuary are listed eight times and every detail of the Sanctuary’s construction, is spelled out for us. Thirteen chapters are devoted to describing how this home for God will be built. In the final verses of this week’s parsha, Pekude, we read that Moses finishes the work and then the glory of Adonai fills the tabernacle. These final verses of Exodus bookend the opening chapter of Genesis. In the beginning, God creates a home for us and then, upon leaving Egypt and accepting the commandments, the people build a space that will become a home for God. God’s presence is evidence in the cloud and the fire that cover the tabernacle and accompany the people.
What makes a house a home? If you google that question, you will find answers from interior designers, biblical commentators and even Oprah Winfrey. I was particularly struck by this answer from an Australian builder, “Homes are a place that memories are made, where you are surrounded by the humblest of belongings that make you smile…where you begin each day and where you rest
your head each night, but most importantly your home is where your heart is and your loved ones come together to celebrate the wins, the losses and life’s special milestones.” The closing verses of Pekude remind us that God came to live among the people when, in their intention and enthusiasm, they created a home. They were ready to recognize the signs that God would be with them on their journey. As I sat in that 7-11 parking lot watching the church goers, I wondered to myself if those Baptists ever think about their building having been a synagogue before it was a church. But, watching the joy they exuded as they left the building it was clear, that it is not only the structure, but the presence of the people that creates a home for God. The Israelites were reassured by the signs that God was there. May we too, be able to recognize when God dwells among us.
Rabbi Rothman – Light in the Darkness
Email – March 8, 2024
Parashat Vayakhel
Moses, having just returned from Mount Sinai, witnessed the Israelites worshiping the golden calf. Recognizing that he had to bring the people back to God, Moses created – kehilah – community from a very chaotic kahal - gathering of people. Parashat Va’yak-heil opens with the words: “Va’yak-heil Moshe et kol adat bnei yisrael – And Moses assembled all the community of the children of Israel” (Exodus 35:1). Va’yak-heil is a verb of action for a specific purpose, in this case, to create a community. So perhaps a better reading is “And Moses created community from the whole assembly of the children of Israel.” Moses was not just our teacher, lawgiver, and great leader; he was also our community builder.
In the wilderness of Sinai, Moses inspired our people to join together and contribute to the building of the Mishkan, the portable dwelling place of the Shechinah, God’s Divine Presence. Moses told the people “Take from yourselves gifts for the Eternal” (Exodus 35:5). And this newly inspired kehilah responded to Moses’ plea and God’s command with overwhelming support and enthusiasm. “And everyone whose heart was inspired…” (Exodus 35:21) brought what they could. Even those who had no formal training in performing any of these tasks were inspired. Each person came to Moses volunteering to complete the tasks that were required.
For the Israelites, the completion of the Mishkan in the wilderness transformed individuals into a community that welcomed God's presence into their midst. Each person who contributed was moved to do so, not out of force but because of the importance of the community. Today, we are the inheritors of this tradition and on Sunday we have an opportunity to do something for our community. Mitzvah Day is the moment for our community to build community with the goal of making our world a better place. So please take some time on Sunday to bring your own special gifts as we join together to make a difference.
* Some of these words come from my Senior Sermon that was originally delivered at HUC-JIR on February 24, 2011.
Rabbi Zeplowitz – Light in the Darkness
Email – March 1, 2024
Parashat Ki Tisa
The Real American Idol
The popular television show American Idol seeks the most talented singers.The ultimate goal is not showcasing their talent, but to have the winner secure a major recording contract, to become the “next singing sensation.” The real purpose, then, is not just fame, but fortune, not simply being good, but getting the “gold”.
The dramatic story of the עגן הזהב egel ha’zahav, the Golden Calf, is at the center of this week’s parasha. Making an idol is, of course, something the Torah forbids (see Exodus 20:4-5), but the focus on what it is made of – gold – is significant. Gold has long been symbolic of wealth. There is, in Jewish thought, nothing wrong with the making of money. “Rabbi Yishmael said, ‘One who wishes to acquire wisdom should study the way that money works, for there is no greater area of Torah study than this. It is like an everflowing stream’” (Babylonian Talmud, Bava Batra 175b). Emblematic of the fact that there is nothing inherently wrong with wealth is that the Ark of the Covenant is itself covered with gold “within and without” (Exodus 25:10).
The issue is not the material used to build the עגן הזהב egel ha’zahav, therefore, but how this material was used. The calf, like all idols, was false because it represents only a part of the whole and, more importantly, because it was seen as the source of greatest authority. The people of Israel left Egypt, but they had not distanced themselves from a worship of the material plentitude they saw around them. Even as Moses ascends the spiritual heights, the masses return
to a tangible, material “thing”. They assumed that this work - the literal representation of their shared wealth – is the true source of blessing.
After Moses rebukes the people for turning from God he grinds the idol into a powder, sprinkles it over water and has the people drink it (Exodus 32:20). In this Moses seems to be teaching the people that the real problem of idolatry is an internal desire to believe that what we own is what is the most important thing about us, that our possessions define us and are paramount above all else.
The transgression of the Golden Calf is not the pursuit of money and acquisition of things per se. We turn from the truth of Sinai, however, when the measure of our worth is based in what we own. Happiness does not come from our holdings, and what matters – in the end – is not luxury but love, not gold but goodness. As the Rambam taught, “Let the wealthy not revel in their wealth ... but one should glory in knowing and understanding God ... (so as) to act with mercy, justice and righteousness” (Guide for the Perplexed III.54, quoting Jeremiah 9:23).
Rabbi Sank Ross – Light in the Darkness
Email – February 23, 2024
Parashat Tetzaveh
Parshat Tetzaveh is, on the surface, all about the priestly vestments. There is one item in particular, mentioned in this week’s portion, that is reminiscent of tefillin, the frontlets or boxes, that some Jewish people choose to wear during morning prayers. In the Shema/V’ahavta prayer, the text of which comes from the book of Deuteronomy, we learn that we should bind God’s commandments “on our hands” and “between our eyes”. Wearing tefillin, which contain this prayer, is a literal fulfillment of these words. In this week’s portion, we learn about the tzitz, a gold plate engraved with the words “holy to God,” that the High Priest of the Torah, Aaron, wore around his head. However, the tzitz served a different function than tefillin–as Exodus 28:38 teaches us, wearing the tzitz expiates any inadvertent errors made in the process of offering the sacrifices.
Further, our tradition connects the tzitz that the priests wore with the lattice that God peers through in the Song of Songs 2:9, “Behold, my lover stands behind our wall, looking through the window, peering (meitzitz) through the cracks.” As Rabbi Elie Kaunfer explains, “The tzitz is the connection point between God and the High Priest. It is not simply a band with God’s name on it, but it is the reminder that God sees Aaron by ‘peering through the cracks.’”
So too is this true for all of us. The same verse from the Song of Songs is used to explain the priestly blessing of the children of Israel. The kohanim, the ancient priests, would hold their hands up over the people with their thumbs and middle and ring fingers spread apart (think Vulcan salute from Star Trek) symbolically recreating a lattice through which God could peer through the cracks at all of us.
Leonard Cohen’s famous words, “There is a crack, a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in (Anthem),” ring true this week as we read Tetzaveh, and in this time in particular. Even the High Priests of the Torah were expected to make mistakes, they wore the tzitz for this purpose: God would see their every success and every failure and they would still be “holy to God” each and every day. God sees us in our imperfection, all the highs and all the lows, and is present nonetheless. It is up to us to continue to realize that the cracks are there, and to know that we are not alone.
Cantor Gladstone Martin – Light in the Darkness
Email – February 16, 2024
Parashat Terumah
On January 20th, the world mourned the passing of Norman Jewison. Despite
his surname, Jewison was not of Jewish descent. However, due to this common misconception, he was the recipient of antisemitic bullying during his school years. In a twist of fate, this created a deep bond between him and a Jewish classmate whom he regularly accompanied to synagogue, fostering a profound connection with Judaism. The filmmaker’s affinity for the Jewish people eventually inspired him to direct the beloved movie-musical “Fiddler on the Roof”.
Originating from Shalom Aleichem’s 1902 short story “Afn Fidl” (On the Fiddle), the wandering violinist symbolizes the cultural heritage of Eastern European Jewry. The 1964 musical adaptation captures the vulnerability of Jewish culture in the face of modernization and anti-Semitic violence, epitomized by the precarious position of the fiddler on a roof.
During a time of instability, the Jews of Anatevka find comfort in their traditions. The same is true for modern Jews in North America. Synagogues across the country have seen a resurgence in attendance since October 7th.
Yet, to derive true solace from our traditions, we must fully understand and
feel comfortable embodying them.
In my time at Community Synagogue, I’ve noticed some confusion surrounding the physical actions we perform to reinforce the spiritual message of L’cha Dodi. L’cha Dodi is a 16th-century acrostic poem, during which we recite specific verses and perform symbolic gestures to welcome Shabbat. As is customary in many Reform congregations, it is our tradition to recite verses 1,2,5 and 9. When we reach the final verse, we rise and face the entrance, welcoming Shabbat as if it were a bride on her wedding day. We intone the words “Bo’i Kallah” (Enter, O Bride) twice, the first-time bowing left and the second time bowing right, greeting the symbolic Sabbath Bride. Then, with the presence of Shabbat in our midst, we return to face our original directions.
While the world grapples with pain, Shabbat is an Oneg – a delight. If there are aspects of our customs that feel unfamiliar to you and thus impeding your enjoyment of the Sabbath, please don’t hesitate to seek guidance from the clergy. And I encourage you to try on new ways of embodying Judaism – touching the mezuzah and then kissing your fingers, circling your hands around the Shabbat candles when you bless them, or taking three steps backward and three more forward before chanting the Amidah. Each of these actions can show reverence for God and bring heightened awareness and mindfulness to our celebration of Shabbat.
May this Shabbat bring you a sense of wholeness and peace.
Cantor Franco – Light in the Darkness
Email – February 9, 2024
Parashat Mishpatim
By the time I was nine and he was fourteen, my brother had a good foot on me in height. This made for some interesting sibling battles since he could put his hand out and keep me from getting anywhere near him. I was, admittedly, an annoying younger sister and would often push his buttons and limits. One time, I taunted and provoked, a chase ensued, I slammed by bedroom door, he kicked, and he put his foot right through the door rendering it useless. In what I still think might have been my parents most successful moment, they took his door off the hinges until mine was repaired. If I didn’t have a door, he wouldn’t either. Tit for tat or as we read in this week’s parsha Mishpatim, “an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.” My nine-year-old self was smugly satisfied.
But it isn’t that simple. As Mahatma Gandhi said, “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.” So how then do we apply this principle? Rabbinic commentators interpreted the verses to mean that the victim would receive compensatory damages equal to the damage done to him or her. Simply put, the punishment should fit the crime. But even this explanation is unsatisfying. It is nearly impossible to assign monetary value to the injury or damage done in many cases. Juries try, judges try but too often, financial compensation falls short of restoring wholeness to a suffering individual or family.
We must mediate our desire for exacting a tit for tat revenge with our values and ethics. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks wrote, “we need to recover the absolute values that make Abrahamic monotheism the humanizing force it has been at its best: the sanctity of life, the dignity of the individual, the twin imperatives of justice and compassion.” In other words, we cannot lose sight of our humanity as we wrestle with the desire to get even.
Rabbi Rothman – Light in the Darkness
Email – February 2, 2024
Parashat Yitro
I should begin by saying, I am not a fan of riddles and puzzles but there is a simple riddle that, with a little reworking, is quite appropriate for this week: “I make two people out of one. What am I?” The answer: A Mirror. But for our purpose, please allow me to take some creative liberties. “I make two months out of one. What am I? The answer: The Hebrew month of Adar. Once every three years, during a Jewish leap year, we add an additional month of Adar to make sure that the Jewish holidays occur at their appointed times. Can you imagine celebrating Passover in the summer or Sukkot in the winter? That would happen if we did not have a Jewish leap year and add an additional month of Adar.
The month of Adar is our collective light in the darkness because tradition teaches, “When Adar enters, we increase our joy” (Talmud, Taanit 29a). There is no better way to transform our “grief and sorrow into joy” (Esther 9:22) than by welcoming not just one but two Hebrew months of Adar. The biggest blessing of our Jewish leap year is that instead of just 30 days of joy, we carry that happiness into Adar II and hope that our joy increases over those 60 days.
Over the past few months, it may have been hard to truly celebrate life knowing that our brothers and sisters in Israel are suffering and Jews around the world are sad. But that is exactly why we need Adar I and Adar II now more than ever. On this Shabbat known as Shabbat Mevarchim, we announce and bless the new Hebrew month. With God’s help, may the next 60 days bring to us and all Israel goodness, blessing, peace, and most of all joy.
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Rabbi Sank Ross – Light in the Darkness
Email – January 26, 2024
Parashat Beshalach
At the beginning of parshat Beshalach we pick up in the middle of the action as Moses and the Israelites are fleeing Egypt. Pharaoh’s army is close behind the Israelites, attempting to chase them down and bring them back. The Israelites panic and cry out to Moses, “What have you done to us, taking us out of Egypt? It would have been better to serve the Egyptians than to die here in the wilderness.” In response, God tells Moses and the Israelites to stop complaining and even praying and to go forward! Moses holds out his arm over the sea, the Israelites cross, Moses holds his arm out again, and in just seven verses, the Israelites are free. The Israelites break into prayer, “Mi chamocha ba’elim, Adonai–Who is like you, God?” And famously, Miriam and all of the women pick up timbrels to lead the people in song and dance.
But hold on, where did the timbrels come from?! For generations commentators and Torah scholars have wondered, if we have to eat matzah during Passover, among other reasons, to recall the hurried state in which our ancestors left Egypt, why would anyone in such a hurry have thought to grab a hand-drum?
The medieval commentator, Rashi, answers this question by citing a story: When Pharaoh ordered all Jewish boys to be drowned in the Nile, Miriam’s father, Amram the Levite, decided to leave their family. “Why have any more children,” he said, “What’s the point?” And since he was a Levite (a leader in ancient Israel) everyone followed his example.
Our tradition teaches that it was Miriam who tracked him down and said, “Father, you are worse than Pharaoh. Pharaoh decreed against the boys, but your action is the end of all children. Pharaoh is powerful, and his decree might or might not become reality, but you are a moral leader, and your example will without question become reality, look how it already has! Father,” she said, “Pharaoh can dominate this world, but your decree takes away the World to Come.”
Amram listened to his daughter, and came home. So did all the other Levites. And right after that, his wife Yocheved became pregnant with Moses, the redeemer.
Miriam knew. Miriam had hope in a world that was at rock bottom. In the face of slavery, she knew that redemption was certain. That is why, the midrash says, the women had timbrels when they crossed the Sea–because Miriam had hope and inspired hope.
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Cantor Franco – Light in the Darkness
Email – January 12, 2024
Parashat Vaera
The Torah portion for this week, Vaera, gives us what are arguably some of the most well-known words in the Torah. We recite them as we retell the Pesach story each year at the seder. We teach them to our children in story and in song. Our ECC children shout this response enthusiastically during their Passover play. “No, no no I will not let them go.” Moses approaches Pharaoh and asks over and again, “Let my people go.” Let my people go. How could we have imagined the meaning these powerful words would take on thousands of years after our deliverance from Egypt?
Let my people go. Bring them home. How could we have imagined that these words would be our daily mantra? Let my people go. Bring them home.
In December, I had the honor of singing these words at the Union for Reform Judaism’s Israel Leadership Summit. Right before my colleague and I took the stage, a young Israeli woman spoke about the people she knew who had been killed or taken hostage on October 7th. Her words were heartbreaking. She said (I will paraphrase). “I thought about the people I know. I know them. Not about them–not people who know them. I know them. I know their favorite color. I know how they take their coffee and whether they prefer coffee or tea. I know their stories and I know them. 27 of them.” She began to cry and the hundreds of people in the room cried with her.
Let my people go–bring them home. Eli Wiesel wrote, “…as long as one person is in prison, our freedom will not be true. What all these victims need above all is to know that they are not alone; that we are not forgetting them, that when their voices are stifled, we shall lend them ours, that while their freedom depends on ours, the quality of our freedom depends on theirs.” And so, like Moses, we must continue to shout, “Let My People Go.”
To see me and Cantor Seth Warner singing Bring Him Home, use this link or watch the video below.
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Rabbi Rothman – Light in the Darkness
Email – January 5, 2024
Parashat Shemot
A ball drops
Confetti flies
Champagne toasts makeway for midnight kisses
and just like that, it’s 2024!
A new year
Renewed vision
Clarity.
Perfect vision and real clarity is sometimes very hard to achieve. No matter how many resolutions we make, history shows us that we tend to make promises that we probably won’t keep. There is even some research that tells us that 23% of people quit their resolution by the end of the first week of January - which is right around now. So how can we mitigate potential failure at this time of year? Jewish wisdom teaches us that the answer is found in kehilah – community.
Last week, as we concluded B’reishit, the first book of the Torah, we said the words: “Chazak, Chazak V’nitchazek –Be strong, be strong and may we be strengthened.” This cry of encouragement serves as a reminder between the books of the Torah that we are in this together and together we will prevail.
And with this week’s Torah portion, Shemot, we transition from just being b’nai yisrael, individual children of Yisrael(our patriarch Jacob), to b’nai yisrael – the nation or people of Israel. In fact we are defined as a nation by the same person who would seek to oppress us, the “new king [that] arose over Egypt who did not know Joseph.” This new Pharaoh is the first to call us a nation and in the same breath demonizes and enslaves.
Even when oppressors and antisemities seek to define us, our strength comes from community.
In community, we:
are held accountable.
celebrate achievements
overcome obstacles.
In the year to come, may we resolve to be courageous. It is only when we seek to create a kehilah kedosha – a holy community, that we can find the chizuk – strength and encouragement that we need.
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Cantor Gladstone Martin – Light in the Darkness
Email – December 29, 2023
Parashat Vayechi
As we navigate an uncertain path into 2024, this week’s parashah, Vayechi, offers a poignant reminder of the human capacity for love, even in the face of darkness.
In Parshat Vayechi, Jacob imparts instructions and blessings to his sons in preparation for his final days. The familial intimacy displayed as Joseph and his brothers mourn their father together starkly contrasts earlier strife among the siblings. Even Joseph, a remarkable dream interpreter and soothsayer, likely could not have foreseen such a profound reconciliation when he was thrown into a pit and sold into slavery by his own kin.
As we stand on the threshold of the secular new year, facing challenges and uncertainty, I draw strength from the Torah and recent experience. Attending a virtual panel of Haaretz contributors, I witnessed a shared hope for the future of Israel. Journalists expressed optimism that Israel will emerge from its current trials stronger and healthier than ever before.
In times of pain and strife, it is challenging to envision a better future. Yet, the story of Joseph teaches us that change, growth, atonement, and forgiveness are achievable even under the most fraught circumstances. Just as Joseph’s life took unexpected turns leading to redemption, so too can our collective journey bring about positive transformation.
Reflecting on the themes of hope and promise, I am reminded of a song from a beloved childhood musical, “Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat.” The lyrics of “Close Every Door” echo a sense of resilience and optimism:
“Close every door to me,
Keep those I love from me
Children of Israel
Are never alone.
For we know we shall find
Our peace of mind
For we have been promised
A land of our own.”
As we step into 2024, let us embrace the enduring hope of our people that positive change is not only possible but likely. History has shown us that, almost always, things do improve.
May the light of hope guide us through the darkness, and may our collective strength and resilience lead us to a year of healing, growth, and blessing.
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Rabbi Zeplowitz – Light in the Darkness
Email – December 22, 2023
Parashat Vayigash
To look the other way, assuming “it’s not my problem” is, so often, the way of the world. Many are the reasons. “Why get involved?” “It’s too much of a hassle.” “I’ve got other priorities.” We Jews know, however, both from the teachings of our faith and because of our history, how much sorrow can come when “good people”, “good leaders”, or “good schools” do not accept their part in the wrong going on around them. That is what makes one who is willing to accept responsibility that much more praiseworthy … and notable.
This week in the Torah we read the climax of a long confrontation between Joseph and his brothers. Joseph, sold into slavery, now confronts brothers who do not realize who he is. With consummate skill, he brings series of “troubles” upon them. His first step was to separate one brother, Shimon, from the others and imprison him. Later, Joseph engineers the framing of another brother, Benjamin, with a “stolen” goblet.
Although the brothers do not realize that the man testing them is their long-lost brother, the realization of their wrongdoing in the past begins to bother at least one of them. “And Judah said, ‘What shall we say to my lord, what shall we speak and how can we justify ourselves? God has found your servants’ sin …’” (Genesis 44:16) Not having long before stood up for Joseph, who was sold as a slave, obviously weighed on Judah’s conscience. Surely, Judah knew that he and his brothers had been wrongly accused. He could have said nothing. When Judah finally says to the Egyptian governor, “take me, not my brother Benjamin” he is not confessing to any crime. Rather, he realizes that the wrongs he did in the past may not be able to made right, but he can take responsibility now.
As the first century sage, Hillel, succinctly taught: “if not me, who; if not now, when?” (Pirkei Avot 1:4).
Judah (the namesake for all Jews) teaches that it is only when we choose to act to help as best we can that the world can become better. It’s not up to our leaders. It isn’t the job of others to help. It’s our task … and our gift, for when we model responsibility for helping we inspire those around us and the generations to come to make this world a bit better because we live in it.
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Rabbi Sank Ross – Light in the Darkness
Email – December 15, 2023
Parashat Miketz
In this week’s Torah portion, Miketz, we see Joseph conceal his identity from his brothers. As we lit all eight candles of our chanukiyot last night, and will continue to find light in the darkness, kindling shabbat lights tonight, what can this portion teach us about bringing forth our inner light?
In the very beginning of the Torah, when God says, "Vayehi or–Let there be light" (Genesis 1:3), this is not the same light as that which comes from the sun, moon and stars that give light to the physical world. Generations of Torah commentators and scholars, including one of this year’s TCS b’nai mitzvah students, agree that the light at the very beginning of creation is a different kind of light. Perhaps it's the light of awareness, perception or even the “light [that is] set aside for the righteous” (Psalm 97:11).
As Psalm 97 teaches, many of our traditional sources hold that this original light was hidden away or concealed. Yiscah Smith and Rabbi Zvi Hirschfield, two teachers at Pardes Institute in Jerusalem, liken this first light to each of our individual inner lights. They believe that, like God in the beginning of creation, by using his gifts only to better himself, in his early years, we see Joseph conceal his inner light. But this week, Joseph discovers and understands the light he possesses and shares it: Not only is Joseph a dreamer, but he can be an interpreter for others. We watch him in this week’s portion interpret Pharaoh’s dreams and discern his brothers’ honest teshuvah (repentance and sincere change). To be aware of the people next to us as deeply as Joseph is able to understand his fellows, connects us to who we are at our essence.
In Proverbs it is written, “Ner Adonai nishmat Adam–The light of God is the soul of the person” (Proverbs 20:27). This text, inscribed above our memorial plaque in the lobby at The Community Synagogue, teaches us that each of us brings God’s or, original light, into the world. The Zohar, the essential text of Kabbalah (Jewish mysticism), tells us that because of this text in Proverbs, we know that God did not completely hide this original light away. “If the light were completely hidden, the world would not exist for even a moment! Rather it is hidden and sown like a seed that gives birth to seeds and fruit. Thereby the world is sustained. Every single day a ray of that light shines into the world, keeping everything alive; with that ray God feeds the world” ª. Like Joseph, like those who see us more deeply than anyone else, may we strive to connect with others. May we too continue to sow seeds of God’s light, even in the darkest of days.
ª Zohar 2:148b-149a, translated by Daniel Matt, The Essential Kabbalah: The Heart of Jewish Mysticism, page. 90.
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Cantor Claire Franco – Light in the Darkness
Email – December 8, 2023
“Today we are witnessing a new kind of antisemitism, different from yet continuous with the old. The current campaign against Israel is focused not on the battlefield but on the buses of Haifa, the restaurants of Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, and the civilian populations bordering Gaza and Lebanon. It is being fought not by nation states but by their proxies, terrorist groups like Hezbollah and Hamas. It is a war not just of weapons but also of images and words, and it aims…at the delegitimization of its right to exist as a Jewish state.” (Rabbi Jonathan Sacks)
You may be surprised to learn that Rabbi Sacks wrote those words in 2007. Yes, you read that correctly, 16 years ago. I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or worse. On the one hand, here we are again. And on the other hand, we have been here before and we have continued to exist, continued to live, and continued to thrive despite the attempts to destroy us.
Chanukah celebrates the military victory of the Maccabees over a much stronger army and the miracle of the oil. We remember it as a victory of the few over the many, the weak over the strong. The Maccabees did not have more weapons or power and yet they were victorious. What they had was faith and a fighting spirit. In the words of Zechariah that we read on Shabbat Chanukah, “Not by might, not by power but by My spirit” said Adonai, God of hosts. (If you grew up like me you are resisting the urge to clap your hands right now – ask me if you don’t understand). The Maccabees were willing to fight for religious freedom and right now, Israelis and Jews around the world are doing the same. May the lights of Chanukah kindle your spirit and remind you that a group of dedicated people can, in fact, be victorious.
Chag Orim Sameach
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Rabbi Rothman – Light in the Darkness
Email – December 1, 2023
Parashat Vayishlach
Having just gathered around the Thanksgiving table, many of us know all too well what conflict may look like, especially in the world we live in. While we hope that our most important relationships are filled with joy and happiness, the bitterness of our disagreements often linger long after the sweetness of the cranberry sauce subsides. Even in the midst of much uncertainty, Vayishlach, our Torah portion this week, offers a small glimmer of hope and light.
Our patriarch Jacob, who is poised to meet his estranged brother Esau at dawn, falls asleep on the bank of the river. Then in the stillness of the dark night, Jacob wrestles with an angel and ultimately prevails. Jacob’s name is changed to Yisrael (Israel), meaning one who wrestles with God. But it’s during that fierce fight that Jacob is injured, his hip is wrenched from his thigh, and he walks away with a limp for the rest of his life. Like Jacob, many of us walk away from our disagreements with emotional limps. But the good news is that, like Jacob, we are all Yisrael; we are a people who wrestle and ultimately prevail.
Since October 7, like our Patriarch Jacob, we have been terribly injured. But since that dark day, we have been forced to live up to our name - Yisrael. As a people we have to be Yisrael, wrestling to overcome that limp. While we are entering the darkest time of the year, a week from now, we all have the ability to bring much needed light into our home, community, and the world. Chanukah enables us to wear our Jewish Pride on our sleeve by proudly displaying the miracle of the oil in our window for 8 days. Even as we wrestle with the uncertainty of the present, let the light of Chanukah inspire us to spread the glow of goodness to even the darkest corners of our world.
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Cantor Ella Gladstone Martin – Light in the Darkness
Email – November 24, 2023
On Tuesday, November 14th, I had the privilege of traveling to D.C. with Rabbi Z and a number of congregants to express our solidarity with Israel during this critical time.
Having never participated in a March on Washington before, I was unsure what to expect.
I harbored concerns that speakers might express views conflicting with my own, dreaded potential backlash from counter-protesters, and worried about internal discord amongst my fellow Jews.
Instead, I encountered thousands of people, including non-Jews, standing peacefully, side by side. Together, we unequivocally condemned antisemitism, put pressure on global leaders to secure the release of hostages, and heard the harrowing stories of Israeli-Americans whose loved ones had been kidnapped.
While I fervently wished that such a rally wasn’t necessary, the day turned out to be an inspiring one.
Nothing encapsulated the hopeful, united, spirit of the day, better than when thousands of us joined in singing Matisyahu’s “One Day” – an energetic anthem for peace –at the top of our lungs.
Participants of the March for Israel drew strength from our togetherness.
In Judaism, a quorum of ten Jewish adults called a minyan is required to perform many rites. While we can always pray as individuals, the founders of Judaism recognized the potency of communal prayer. Something powerful happens when we pray in community (and at Community).
This Thanksgiving, I am grateful for the unified and resilient spirit of the Jewish community. I pray that the bonds that bind our people continue to bring us healing as we work together to try and heal our world.
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Rabbi Irwin Zeplowitz – Light in the Darkness
Email – November 17, 2023
Parashat Toldot
What does it mean to say Shabbat Shalom? Is it seeking a life without tension or enmity? At this moment when the state of Israel is at war and anti-Jewish hate is on the rise, each of us has to confront the age-old question – are we doomed to eternal conflict or is peace possible? In the “day after tomorrow”, after Hamas is defeated, what lies ahead? Are Israelis and Palestinians doomed to an eternal embrace of hatred?
In this week's Torah portion the mother of our people Rebecca suffers a difficult pregnancy – “and the children struggled within her.” For many this is a story that describes an ongoing reality, one of for us – that of constant conflict. But there is another path.
This week, the remains of Israeli–Canadian peace activist, Vivian Silver, were found at Kibbutz Be’eri, among the 1200 murdered by Hamas terrorists. For decades Vivian helped Palestinians across the border from her kibbutz in Gaza. In an interview last year she said, “I spent a lot of time in Gaza … like–minded Palestinian organizations, all of those people want to live in dignity and in recognition of a national people.” She went on, “I call myself a conditional Zionist. I believe in the right of the Jewish people to have a state, as long as we give the same right to the Palestinian people. This could be such a haven to both of our people here. I know what life could be like if we put down our arms.”
In Hebrew שלום shalom is related to the word “wholeness”. It means holding two truths at the same time. Peace is not perfection. It is the acceptance that life is often hard, that even on Shabbat we live with disappointment and uncertainty. But (and it’s a big but) we refuse to allow our fear define us. The story of Rebecca need not be descriptive. Rather, it can be seen as a warning. “Shabbat Shalom” is to embrace the vision of Vivian Silver, who died by hate, but refused to accept that ongoing war is the only way forward.
Shabbat Shalom – not “perfect peace”, just something better than what is …
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Rabbi Sank Ross – Light in the Darkness
Email – November 10, 2023
Parashat Chayei Sara
Echad. One.
I’ve been thinking a lot about “one” lately. In Judaism, God’s oneness is distinct. We affirm it each time we pray Shema, each time we walk through a doorway with a mezuzah. Because God is one, because we are each created in the divine image, each one of us, each and every human life is akin to an entire world.
In this dark time, when so many worlds have ended, it is more clear than ever that one makes an enormous difference. One word chosen without care, one tearing down, one rationalizing. One, just one, can make one feel so alone. And one friend checking in, one Israeli flag in a stranger’s window, one Shabbat shared. One, just one, reminds us that we are part of an even greater One.
Abraham was just one. One who went out of his way to welcome one, and one, and one. And in this week’s Torah Portion, Chayei Sarah, as he loses his dear one, he finds in Rebecca another who will provide water to one, and one camel after another, and companionship to one heartbroken son, Isaac. One makes all the difference.
I believe in the power of one person to connect with one other person. In the ability of each of us to be the one who welcomes, who recognizes, who reaches out. And I especially believe in the power of Jewish communities, congregations like The Community Synagogue, to recognize and uplift each and every individual to sustain infinite worlds.
In Judaism, one is a blessing, but this Erev Shabbat, we are doubly blessed to celebrate the official installation of not one, but two leaders in our community, Rabbi Lyle Rothman and Cantor Ella Gladstone Martin, who like Abraham and Rebecca uplift us all by comforting one soul, sharing one teaching, leading us as one community in one song.
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Cantor Franco – Light in the Darkness
Email – November 3, 2023
Two weeks ago, I walked through the gate at Auschwitz with the infamous words Arbeit Macht Frei at the top. I had seen this sign in pictures hundreds of times and had anticipated the sight of them since making the decision to travel to Prague and Poland on a trip with the American Conference of Cantors many months ago. It was a difficult trip to take particularly given the situation in Israel and the rising level of antisemitism worldwide. I wasn’t sure how much more Jewish tragedy I could handle. Auschwitz 1, as the original is called, is neat and orderly. The trees were full and green, the sun was shining, and, in this setting, it was difficult to imagine the horrors that took place there. The enormity of the camp is overwhelming and everywhere we turned, we were reminded of pure evil. But in an unexpected turn of events, I felt a light in this darkness.
We learned that 2,000,000 visitors come to Auschwitz- Birkenau every year. Everywhere we looked, there were groups of people from all over the world, of every race and religion. There were countless groups of young people - pre-teens, teens and young adults paying close attention to their guides and behaving respectfully. There were groups with Israeli flags and other groups asking to borrow the flag so that they could take a picture with it flying behind them. There was life and there was hope in this tragic and dark place. I left inspired in ways I could never have imagined.
I got a magnet in Auschwitz that says, “Even if evil triumphs at times, goodness does not cease to exist.” Written by a survivor, this statement is a powerful reminder, particularly in these troubling times, that there is light in the dark. And if we can’t find it, we can be it.
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Rabbi Z – Gathering for Israel: Both/And
Port Washington Community Gathering – October 29, 2023
Hold your hand to your heart.
Feel it beating. Remember with your beating heart that you are human “In place no one is human ... strive to be humanE.”
Remember that a heart has many chambers – yet beats as one. That is a frame for what I want to share with you now.
Torah portion – God is about to destroy Sodom & Gomorrah ... (old story – for one choice is to seek to wipe away evil ... e.g. Flood, scattering of peoples after Bavel). But now comes key moment – God says, “Can I hide this from Avraham ... for all nations are to bless themselves by him?” Further, God says, “his children ... (must) do what is just and right” to fulfill promise given (that of land).
That is eternal challenge for us ... from our origins connected to land (we are not occupiers, colonizers), but by dint of faith, history & international law have place in Land ... but there is an AND ... to remain there we must be exemplars of justice
Model – Avraham – challenges God, do NOT wipe away righteous/innocent with wicked; stays God’s hand if enough of them. Thus, Avraham exemplar that for us as Jews we must not ever fall into trap of either-or. That is what Hamas wanted ... to sow hate, to seed revenge in our hearts. We must resist, בכל לבבך “with all our hearts (our animalistic yetzer hara – seeking payback tempered by our yetzer tov – inclination to good” ... and בכל מאדך all our might (to speak of peace, but also truth and justice)”.
We must realize that the option for us is not either OR (או), but both AND (ו). Words so close in Hebrew ... just one letter difference ... but the OR includes the א׳, which is a letter with no sound; the aleph is an emptiness, an absence of seeking anything in the other, an inability to listen, an incapacity to accept anything or anyone else. But ו׳ the letter that means “and” connects, it contains all possibilities ...
And so this final thought ... as God teaches Avraham, we must not be a people of either / or but both / and ...
Israel needs to destroy Hamas, its murderous ideology that threatens genocide and terrorizes its own citizens AND to acknowledge how tragic that Palestinians are suffering because not allowed to leave, that military headquarters and rocket launchers are placed under hospitals
Hamas has misappropriated funds meant for Palestinian people AND Gazans deserve food, water, healthcare
We can disagree about Israel’s responsibility in helping create the animus felt by so many Palestinians AND be united in condemning the barbarism of Hamas and its supporters around world whose silence about what they did (or worse support for them) reveals that the immorality of so many (especially in progressive world and academia)
We can hope and support for end to those who seek our extermination AND work for dignity for the millions of Jews and millions of Palestinians who share that land, crating seeds of hope, and peace
We are “prisoners of hope” ... as audacious and crazy as that may seem.
Thus – as an expression of that hope I ask all our Jewish clergy to now join as one as we join in Israel’s national anthem ... we have (and never will lose hope) – עוד לא עבדה תקותנו
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Rabbi Z – First Steps of Destruction
Erev Shabbat Sermon – October 27, 2023
It is possible to look at the first several weekly portions of Torah as an anguished attempt to try to deal with the problem of evil and the belief in God. If there is a Creator who brings order to the universe, why are we left to live in a world of such chaos? If God is the One who brings good, why is there so much evil?
The first Torah portion begins with murder and the searing question of Cain whose refusal to care for others echoes through the generations, “Am I my brother's keeper?” The second Torah portion, which we read last week speaks of a world gripped by violence (in an eerie echo of today, the word for unmitigated violence in Hebrew is hamas). God's answer to human depravity is to seek to wipe it from the face of the earth. Later in the portion where humanity gathers together in (our sages suggest) in immorality, God again seeks to destroy the evil, this time by scattering and dividing the nations.
In all these efforts, however, even God fails. Which brings us to this week's Torah reading, which offers a final attempt to address human injustice and cruelty – by beginning with one man who will be the progenitor of a people destined to model holiness and goodness. Lech lecha, God tells Avram, “go to ... a place that I will show you ... and you will be a blessing.” (Genesis 12:2)
Four times in this parasha Avram is promised the land that has been at the center of Jewish identity from this seminal moment. Our parasha, however, alludes to ongoing struggles. The shepherds of Avram and his nephew Lot quarrel over water and grazing. The strife between them, Avram suggests, is not the answer. Rather, the only way to live in peace is to live apart.
This week I heard an interesting discussion between two activists – one an Israeli Jew, the other a Palestinian. The Palestinian suggested establishing a single state where all would have equal rights “between the river and the sea.” He offered a utopian possibility of a nation which would be like Switzerland, where people of different languages and faiths could live in harmony. The Israeli activist countered that given the history, it would much more likely resemble Yugoslavia, where internecine hatred tore its peoples asunder, neighbor killing neighbor. For now, at least, it seems that the advice of Avram Avinu, Abraham our father makes more sense – “let us separate.” (Genesis 13:9)
And yet, and yet ... for Palestinians and Israelis to fully part is also fanciful and impossible. First, because 20% of Israel’s citizens are Palestinian. Second, because Israeli governments have allowed Jewish settlements to grow in the very heart of the West Bank – where Jews (hundreds of thousands) and Palestinians (millions) live cheek by jowl together. Like it or not, Zionism created two national identities – Israeli and Palestinian. We are bound together.
Even now, every three weeks after the barbaric pogrom of Hamas it is difficult to fully comprehend how much has changed. Even in the early hours of after the horrors of what was done to civilians came to light, already we heard equivocation and explanation. “Israel brought this upon itself.” “This is the understandable result of oppression and colonialization.” The bray of our enemies, particularly those on the political left, has offered moral clarity. When professors at elite universities say they were “exhilarated” by the torture and murder, we know that learning does not bring understanding. When pro- Palestinians protestors – just yesterday in New York City – chased terrified Jews into Cooper Union, and librarians offered to hide them in the attic from the angry mob, the well-earned trauma of the Jew forced to hide and flee rises like bile in the stomach? When our college students, or those in law schools or graduate programs, have hide that they are Jewish, or we are afraid to walk the streets of New York wearing a magen David or kippa, do we not know that those who say “I am only anti-Israel and not antisemitic” are liars?
This Shabbat is the fifth yahrzeit of the Tree of Life massacre in Pittsburgh. Let us make no mistake – antisemitism is real, it is growing and it comes at us from three directions: far-right white supremacists that sees Jews as “globalists” seeking world domination, the “woke” left that delegitimizes Zionism as a Jewish people’s movement of liberation and self-determination, and Islamic fundamentalists, which views a Jewish State as affront to a Middle East that only “belongs” to Muslims.
We live in a fraught and uncertain moment – as did many generations of Jews before us. However – and this is important to bear in mind – we also live in a time about which our ancestors could have only dreamed. The State of Israel, for all its challenges and problems, offers an expression of Jewish power, even if recent weeks have stripped away a sense of invulnerability. More than that, we are blessed to live in a country that continues to be supportive of Israel and to have most politicians express abhorrence with the anti-Jewish outbreaks of recent days. A study released this week indicates that nearly 85% of respondents sided with Israel in its current war against Hamas. Just yesterday, White House deputy press secretary Andrew Bates made clear, “Delegitimizing the State of Israel while praising the Hamas terrorist murderers who burned innocent people alive, or targeting Jewish students, is the definition of unacceptable — and the definition of antisemitism.”
I would be foolish to say what I think will happen in the coming days. As I once heard from times of Israel editor David Horovitz, “if anyone tells you what will happen next in the Middle East, don't believe them.” No one really knows. That said, there are some things that I believe will not be the same moving forward:
First, while no one can predict what will happen with the government in Israel, there is a nearly universal sense among Israelis that their government has failed them. Blame will come later, but the days since October 7th have shown the powerful sense of civic pride and civilian power that Israelis have. Hamas leadership may have thought that the divisiveness within Israel in recent months made Israel weak - and in some ways they were right - but the viciousness of their attacks has, for now, united Israelis and Jews.
Second, the political assumption of many in Israel that peace could come simply through accords with other Arab countries without really dealing with the Palestinian issue, has been shown to be untenable. Whatever is about to come next, it is hard to imagine that the relationship between Israel and the Palestinians will go back to the status quo ante.
Third, as Israeli commentator Daniel Gordis wrote this week, “as grateful as Israelis truly are for American support, it is lost on few that two aircraft carriers mean that we are worried that we cannot actually defend ourselves without help, something that we were always taught would never be the case.” The sense that Israel is the safest place to be a Jew was lost this month, and it is not going to be easy to determine what that means for the future.
Fourth, in this country there has been a palpable and deep reexamination by many Jews about its connections with those in the progressive left. The silence about the acts of the Hamas terror by many on the left – if not outright celebration of it – is causing a painful realignment of many North American Jews whose values tend to be liberal. What this will mean for funding of universities, for political alliances and within the Jewish community, I don’t know. But I am certain that I (and I suspect our larger Jewish community in this country) moving forward will not have the same priorities as previously.
Finally, there is no inevitability in history. Some may think that out of this, the sides will harden, and the anguish of these days are but a precursor to darker, more dangerous days ahead. Maybe. But Torah makes clear that even if evil may not be able to be fully eradicated, we still hold a power to move, step by step, towards a better tomorrow. The shock of recent weeks reminds us that we cannot take our alliances for granted nor our security for granted. Yet out of crisis can come a realization that something has to change. After the terrible Kishinev pogrom in 1903 Zionism was no longer a discussion just among an elite few, but it became a mass movement. Out of the Holocaust came the realization among some (if certainly not all) that Jews cannot and should not rely solely on the beneficence of others.
“Never again” became a mantra for Jewish resistance, resilience, courage and power. If there was ever a time for the assertion of our pride and power, it is now. More than this, we cannot predict what this will mean for Israel in the Middle East. After 1948, Israel went to war with Egypt four times. But, almost unbelievably, former enemies established a détente. It may not be “peace” fully realized, but it is better than war. It is not impossible that after all of this, and with some luck, there may be an awakening among Israelis and Palestinians that – as painful as that may be for both – a change in the relationship may be the price worth it if it leads to a realignment against Iran and those they support that seek only ongoing struggle and violence.
Our parasha speaks of Avram coming to the land that, generations later, would be the Land of Israel, and almost immediately thereafter having to go down to Egypt. His journey reminds us that the path to redemption is not a straight one. The road to Jewish liberation has always taken many twists and turns. But we are not powerless. They are blessed to live in a generation of Jewish power. We have the gift of being in a country where we can stand up, speak out, join with allies, and defend ourselves, fellow Jews and all those – including Palestinians – who seek peace and deserve the right to determine their destiny.
What can you do?
Join us in wear a blue ribbon in solidarity for the safe return of everyone who has been taken hostage by the terrorist group Hamas. And when people ask, “what is that?” urge them to join in the need to demand that those taken captive be returned.
Speak to our elected officials and thank them for their continued to support for Israel.
Demand of any university to which you are connected that they forcefully condemn the Hamas pogrom (even if far too late, better late than never) And also demand that your alma mater takes action to protect Jewish students, and clarify that support of the elimination of Israel is hate speech, it is racist, and the refuge of the Jew-hater.
Speak up and speak out – at work, school, on social media, in conversations with colleagues – about why this is war not a fight of Jew and Palestinian, this is not a religious war of Judaism and Islam, it is not about sharing the land. This is a war against Hamas - an enemy whose very charter for its existence, and which its actions of October 7 show that the goal is eradication of Israel (and another Holocaust) knows no moral bounds.
Take one of the “We Stand with Israel” signs this evening. If you want to be courageous follow the lead of several students in the Guggenheim elementary school who had these three signs in the hallway – each with an Israeli flag – “Everyone should be included”, “Everyone has different lives and don’t hurt Israel”, “Everyone is different.” If they can be Jewish and proud – so should we. So must we.
My friends. Do not be afraid. Lech lecha – the road ahead is long, but we will be, as we have ever been “prisoners of hope”. As God said to Avram:
I will make of you a great nation, And I will bless you;
I will make your name great, And you shall be a blessing.
ואברכה מברכיך ומקללך אאר
I will bless those who bless you And curse him that curses you;
ונברכו בך כל משפחת האדמה
And all the families of the earth
Shall bless themselves by you. (Genesis 12:2-3)
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Rabbi Rothman – Light in the Darkness
Email – October 27, 2023
Parashat Lech-Lecha
Our parasha, Lech L’cha (Go forth), begins with a command for uncertainty and ends with a covenant for eternity. The sheer act of listening to God’s voice in our vast world, shatters past idols, smashes inner fears, and soothes broken souls. For Abram, Lech L’cha was not just a call to action from God but a realignment of values from within. For us, Lech L’cha is a cry for help in uncertain times and a command to persevere despite all the obstacles placed before us.
Today, as we commemorate the 5th anniversary of the deadliest terror attack on the Jewish community in the United States at the Tree of Life Congregation, we say: Lech L’cha, Go for yourself! As a Jewish community, let us stand united and say in one clear voice that the normalization of antisemitism must be eradicated.
Today, even as we continue to mourn for our Sisters and Brothers in Israel on October 7th, the deadliest day for Jews since the Holocaust, we say: Lech L’cha, Go by yourself! Even when we think the walls are closing in around us, let there once again “...be heard in the cities of Judah and in the streets of Jerusalem voices of joy and gladness.”
Today, as we take one step out of the pain, we rise against the hatred, and we say: Lech L’cha: Go to yourself! May the echo of God’s command to Abram reverberate within our collective Jewish soul. Search for that voice of God deep within and muster up the strength to proudly declare: Am Yisrael Chai - the People of Israel will ALWAYS Live! Jewish Pride begins with recognizing your potential. Jewish Pride means a realignment of values and priorities. Jewish Pride begins with you. So “Lech L’cha - Go Forth to the land that I will show you.” Because if you listen, with God’s help, darkness and sorrow will be transformed into greatness and blessing.
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Cantor Ella Gladstone Martin – Light in the Darkness
Email – October 20, 2023
Parashat Noach
In this week’s Torah portion, God is so troubled by humanity’s widespread corruption and lawlessness that a catastrophic flood is unleashed to cleanse the Earth. Only Noah, his family, and two representatives of every animal species are spared. As the rain eventually subsides, and the land dries sufficiently for a dove to pluck an olive leaf from a tree, the passengers on Noah’s ark recognize that it is safe to disembark. To seal God’s promise that “never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth,” a rainbow graces the sky.
Rainbows are one of nature’s most profound wonders, having evolved into a ubiquitous symbol of hope.
In 1938, in the wake of pogroms in Europe, the Jewish musical minds behind The Wizard of Oz, lyricist Yip Hapburg and composer Harold Arlen, crafted the iconic song “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” In penning its lyrics, the pair capture Dorothy’s yearning for Oz, echoing the age-old aspiration of our people:
לִהְיוֹת עַם חָפְשִׁי בְּאַרְצֵנוּ lihyot am chofshi b’artzeinu – “to be a free people in our own land”.
In these dark days, I keep awaiting a sign that the clouds are going to part, that I will “wake up where the clouds are far behind me.” Yet, instead, I often awaken feeling more discouraged and disempowered than ever. Then, I recall Noah’s arduous journey. When he initially sent out the dove it returned empty-handed, having found that water still blanketed the earth. Even earlier, a raven had been dispatched and failed to complete its mission. Noah and his family found themselves adrift for 10 months and forty-seven days. The world they once knew had come to an end, and their future was unknown. Hope did not come straight away, but it arrived, nevertheless.
For centuries, the Jewish people have endured hardship and persecution. And for centuries we have persevered.
Somewhere over the rainbow
Skies are blue
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true.
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Rabbi Z – Light in the Darkness
Email – October 13, 2023
Parashat Bereshit
The first parasha (Torah portion) says the natural state of the world is utter chaos. Everything is תהו ובהו tohu v’vohu – “emptiness and void.” Given the horrors of the worst mass murder of Jews since the שואה Shoah(Holocaust) that took place last Shabbat, it is hard not to feel that there is no morality or inherent sense of meaning, justice or good.
In contrast to this nihilistic approach, Torah makes an audacious claim. “And God said, ‘Let there be light’”. What is so bold about that? It is the assertion that in a world that seems dark, we believe in order. Where unimaginable pain is brought by those who claim, might is right, we emulate a God who creates not through destructive power, but words that can enlighten and illumine.
This is not some naïve understanding that speech alone can conquer the chaotic hate of an implacable enemy. A God who “drove back the sea … who fixed all the boundaries of the earth” is also a God, the Psalmist says, who can rise up against those whose actions undermine the very moral order Creation establishes. (Psalm 74)
The opening of Genesis, then, offers an enduring message that is the foundation of Torah – that those who bring “emptiness and void” will be destroyed, and our words ought to ever reflect the hopeful belief that there is a light in the darkness, and we – made in God’s image – must be that light.
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Thu, May 9 2024
1 Iyar 5784
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Worship Schedule
Shabbat "Kedoshim" ~ "שבת "קדשים
Friday, May 10
6:30 pm – Erev Shabbat in memory of Israel's 76th Year of Independence, worship in person or watch on our Website.
Saturday, May 11
9:00 am – Shabbat Morning Adult Torah Study, worship and study in person or register here to join via Zoom.
10:30 am – Shabbat Morning
Bat Mitzvah of Lexi Raskin, worship in person in the Main Sanctuary or watch on our Website.
Bar Mitzvah of Hudson Ring, worship in person in the Havurah Service in the Beit T’fillah.