INSIDE OUT

Sermon for Yom Kippur morning 5785

October 12, 2024

This morning in our Torah service we read Leviticus, Chapter 16, from Parashat Acharei Mot. It describes in close detail the rituals that were conducted on Yom Kippur in days of old to cleanse the Mishkan from ritual impurity --- ritual impurity that was in large part the result of human sin. Without that process of purification, our ancestors feared that God’s indwelling presence might cease to abide in their midst.

 The Mishkan was the portable shrine that the people carried around with them in the wilderness. Jewish tradition teaches that the Mishkan was the predecessor of the more elaborate Bet Hamikdash – the Temple that King Solomon built in Jerusalem in the 10th century B.C.E.  The Bet Hamikdash was destroyed by the Babylonians in 586 B.C.E., rebuilt on a possibly smaller scale some seventy years later, and then destroyed again by the Romans in year 70 of the Common Era.

 The fall of Jerusalem in 70 C.E. was a traumatic event for our people which could have spelled the end of Judaism itself

However, Churban Bet Hamikdash was not the end of Judaism. 

In the centuries following the destruction of the Second Temple, we learned as a people to carry on the traditions of Judaism in new ways. 

The Torah had described the Day of Atonement with its Priestly administered sacrificial offerings this way:

כִּֽי־בַיּ֥וֹם הַזֶּ֛ה יְכַפֵּ֥ר עֲלֵיכֶ֖ם לְטַהֵ֣ר אֶתְכֶ֑ם מִכֹּל֙ חַטֹּ֣אתֵיכֶ֔ם לִפְנֵ֥י ה' תִּטְהָֽרוּ׃

”Ki vayom hazeh yikhaper aleykhem letaher etkhem; mikol chatoteykhem lifney adonai titharu.”

(“For on this day atonement he [i.e. the Kohen Gadol or High Priest] shall purify you;  Of all your sins before Adonai you shall be purified.”)

However, after the destruction of the second Temple, the focus of Yom Kippur altered from one in which a hereditary functionary ritually purified a physical structure on behalf of the people ---- to one in which, we the people took on the task of spiritually purifying ourselves.

If we look closely at the wording of that verse, Leviticus 16:30, we see that there are two processes discussed here.

The first process is “kaparah,” which means “atonement” or “expiation”   --- According to the late Rabbi Joseph Solovetchik and others, kapparah is about removing the metaphorical stain that has sullied the world outside ourselves as a result of our sins.  We do so by apologizing to those whom we have wronged, and by making whole those to whom we have caused injury.

The second is “taharah,” which means “purification.” In contrast to the external focus of that first process of kapparah or atonement, this second process of taharah or purification is about removing the metaphorical stain that has sullied our inner selves as a result of our sins.  

In Pirke Avot, there’s a famous teaching that says – “mitzvah goreret mitzvah, va’avera goreret avera”/ “one mitzvah pulls along another mitzvah and one transgression pulls along another transgression” (Pirke Avot 4:2). In other words, acting honorably on any one occasion makes it more likely that you’ll get in the habit of acting honorably; while acting dishonorably on one occasion makes it more likely that you’ll get in the habit of acting dishonorably. 

So, even if we have achieved kapparah or atonement for a sin by setting right whatever damage we have caused to others – we still have internal work to do if we want to achieve taharah or purification -- setting right the damage that we have done to our inner selves. 

We still are obliged to work on changing our direction in life so that we’ll learn from our past mistakes, rather than simply repeating them in the future.

Jewish tradition teaches us that God is eager to meet us way more than halfway.  In Shir Hashirim Rabbah, the rabbinic midrash on Song of Songs, God is described as saying to the Jewish people – “Open to Me a gate of repentance no bigger than the point of a needle, and I will open to you a gate [of forgiveness] wide enough to drive wagons and carts through.” (Shir Hashirim R. 5:2).  

And since we should strive to act in godly ways in the world, we should therefore also try our best to forgive others who have wronged us when they seek to apologize to us.

We give special focus to this process of teshuvah during our High Holiday season.  However, Judaism understands the process of teshuvah to be a year-round process.   Making things right when we have done wrong, and seeking to learn from our mistakes --- These are ongoing, continual activities (which is why the traditional weekday Amidah includes a prayer seeking forgiveness for our sins.)   

We strive to be engaged in teshuvah throughout the year, always seeking to be conscious of who we are, and what we do, and where we are -- always making mid-course corrections as we try continually to be oriented towards God. As it says in Psalms 16:8 – “Shiviti Adonai lenegdi tamid.” “I set God before me always.”

May we be faithful to this path not only on this Day of Atonement but throughout the year, and throughout our lives.

Gmar chatimah tovah.

© Rabbi David Steinberg

October 2024/ Yom Kippur 5785

FAR BEYOND

Sermon for Kol Nidre night 5785

October 11, 2024

For those of you who are regular attendees at Shabbat services throughout the year, I’m sure you notice how various elements of the service --- prayer language, congregational tunes, and Torah cantillation modes are different for the High Holidays.

But even for those of you whom we tend to see much less frequently at services during the rest of the year, I would guess that there is at least one liturgical change that you notice as well.

It comes in the various forms of the Kaddish – whether it’s the half kaddish or the full kaddish or the mourners kaddish.

I’m referring to the repetition of the word “le’eylah” (לעלה). 

The rest of the year in the Kaddish --- we declare that God is “le’eylah min kawl birkhata veshirata tushbechatah venechemata da’amiran be’alma” --- “beyond all blessings, songs, praises and words of comfort that we can say in this world”

That statement in the Kaddish reminds us that there is so much in existence that is utterly beyond our comprehension.  That there is so much mystery and miracle all around us at all times that if we were to truly perceive it all it would just blow our minds --- maybe even literally  -- who knows!

I think that’s what the Torah means when it portrays God telling Moses ---

“I will make all My goodness pass before you, and I will proclaim before you the name ADONAI, and the grace that I grant and the compassion that I show […] but you cannot see My face, for a human being may not see Me and live.”[1]

That passage from the Book of Exodus goes on to describe God’s divine attributes, the idea that we cannot perceive God directly, but, rather we perceive the effects of God’s actions in the world.

We proclaim those attributes multiple times in our High Holiday services:

ה' ׀ ה' אֵ֥ל רַח֖וּם וְחַנּ֑וּן אֶ֥רֶךְ אַפַּ֖יִם וְרַב־חֶ֥סֶד וֶאֱמֶֽת׃

נֹצֵ֥ר חֶ֙סֶד֙ לָאֲלָפִ֔ים נֹשֵׂ֥א עָוֺ֛ן וָפֶ֖שַׁע וְחַטָּאָ֑ה וְנַקֵּה֙

Adonai, Adonai, compassionate and gracious God, patient, abounding in kindness and truth; assuring steadfast love for a thousand generations, forgiving transgression and sin, and granting pardon.[2]

And from these and other teachings with which Judaism abounds, we learn that the ultimate life of religious faith consists of trying to emulate such qualities in our own lives  --- regardless of whether you believe in a personal God or are atheist or anything in between. As Jews, we are a people with a shared heritage and destiny even while our particular theological outlooks may vary.

But I want to go back to what I started talking about regarding the words of the kaddish ---

The rest of the year we say that God’s actual nature is “LE’EYLA” (“BEYOND”) all blessings, songs, etc. “da’amiran balma” (“that we utter in the world”).”

But, during the Yamim Noraim – the days of awe from Rosh Hashanah through Yom Kippur we don’t just say “Leyla” “BEYOND” we say “LE’EYLAH ULE’EYLAH”  -- “Beyond and Beyond’ – or, more idiomatically —“FAR BEYOND”.

The ultimate nature of reality is FAR BEYOND that which we mere earthlings can express or understand.

I have been thinking about that extra “LEYLAH” on this High Holiday season  --when it seems like it’s FAR FAR BEYOND my abilities – and perhaps LE’EYLAH ULE’EYALH – far far beyond ---- the abilities of my fellow rabbis in synagogue pulpits around the world --- to thread the needle --- to find the proper balance --- between

sharing what I believe

versus

maintaining a spirit of welcoming community with those with whom I am in profound and painful disagreement. 

Perhaps those of you who attend the discussion session tomorrow afternoon will come up with that magic formula.

As for me, up here trying to come up with words of some value or inspiration to share with you on this holiest of nights ...  I just keep thinking “le’eyla, ule’eylah” – it’s far far beyond me to square the circle --- it’s far far beyond me to get everyone on the same page –

regarding the existential question of Jewish survival in a post-October 7th world.     

And I won’t try to do that here.

Those of you who know me well, probably know what I think.  And those of you who don’t, can certainly ask me when I’m off the bima. 

One of my rabbinical colleagues recently shared in an online group that they were

“Looking for a Yom Kippur sermon idea - something on political polarization and the election along with some rabbinic texts,…But I’m not sure what to say except that polarization is bad. Any ideas?”

In my response to that query I wrote this:

“The old "makhloket leshem shamayim" [argument for the sake of heaven] vs "makhloket shelo beshem shamayim" [argument not for the sake of heaven] dichotomy could be useful. As for me, I'm sorely tempted to do a sermon about how putting a band aid on a problem (rather than trying to solve it) is actually a good response...” 

That’s what I wrote.

About a month ago I took a bad fall while I was out for a run on the Lakewalk.  I managed to walk and then continue to run the remaining couple of miles home while my arm and my leg were dripping blood.

Thankfully, I didn’t need any stitches.

And yes, after cleaning myself up, I did indeed put on a bunch of band aids to cover the wounds.

And, miracle of miracles, I kept the band aids on long enough that everything healed on its own.

As we say in the asher yatzar blessing in the daily Shacharit liturgy: 

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה' רוֹפֵא כָל־בָּשָׂר וּמַפְלִיא לַעֲשׂוֹת

Barukh atah Adonai, rofey khawl basar umafli la’asot

"Blessed are you Adonai, the wondrous healer of all flesh."

My inclination is to be a peace-maker – to put metaphorical band aids on our communal hurts and just give them time to heal on their own with the passage of time.

I know this modus operandi does not work for all situations

But I really do appreciate band aids!

And I pray that, as a congregation, as a society, as a world – we be graced with the ability and the opportunity to find common ground without insisting upon identical ground. 

I realize that I am mixing a lot of metaphors and perhaps being somewhat obscure in my remarks.

But what I’m getting at --- and what I bet you can indeed get from what I’m saying --- is this:

Let us remain in covenantal community with one another, supporting one another, caring for one another, rooting for one another  even though --- outside these walls --- we may be in bitter opposition to one another on matters that may be deep in our hearts.

Ahm Yisra’el Chai/ May our people continue to live and thrive.

Gmar chatimah tovah/ May we all be inscribed and sealed for goodness in this new year.

Tzom Kal/ May those who are observing the Yom Kippur fast, do so easily.

Shabbat shalom --- May this Yom Kippur -- this Shabbat Shabbaton – this Sabbath of Sabbaths – be a time of meaningful reflection and communion ---

AND MAY OUR BROKEN HEARTS BE HEALED.

Amen.

© Rabbi David Steinberg

October 2024/ Kol Nidre Night 5785

[1] Exodus 33:19-20

[2] Exodus 34: 6-7 (Actually, the recitation in liturgy of those so-called “Shelosh Eshrey Midot” (“Thirteen [Divine] Attributes”) omits the end of verse seven but that could be the subject of another sermon altogether… )

TAKE NOTE

Sermon for First Morning of Rosh Hashanah 5785

October 3, 2024

Rosh Hashanah is the start of Aseret Ymei Teshuvah – The Ten Days of Teshuvah – which culminate with Yom Kippur nine days from now.

Teshuvah is often translated as “repentance” but its more basic meaning is “return”.  So, these are the ten days of return.

“Repentance” and “return” --- Those concepts seem to suggest looking backwards and, indeed, that’s a big part of what these High Holy Days are about:  Reflecting on the year that has passed, and on how we conducted ourselves in our relationships with God and with one another.

But Rosh Hashanah is also a beginning.  A new start.

As we sang after each set of Musaf Shofar blasts today – HAYOM HARAT OLAM – TODAY THE WORLD IS BORN.

Indeed – our tradition teaches that, not just Rosh Hashanah, but, in fact, every single day is a time of rebirth.

As the traditional language of our liturgy declares –

הַמֵּאִיר לָאָֽרֶץ וְלַדָּרִים עָלֶֽיהָ בְּרַחֲמִים וּבְטוּבוֹ מְחַדֵּשׁ בְּכָל־יוֹם תָּמִיד מַעֲשֵׂה בְרֵאשִׁית

Bringer of light to the earth and its inhabitants in mercy and divine goodness, renewing each day continually the work of Creation.

Or as the contemporary author, poet and teacher, Rabbi Sheila Peltz Weinberg expresses it –

Every day, Creation is renewed.

Wake up and see unfolding

In the spreading light of dawn,

The world and all it contains

Coming into being, new, fresh.

Filled with divine goodness and love

Every day, Creation is renewed.

Reflected in the great lights

We see a new day,

One precious day,

Eternity.

No matter how stressful yesterday may have been, today is a new start.

And if that’s true from day to day – how much more so for the start of a new year.

In this spirit, it seems odd that Jewish tradition doesn’t assign the first chapter of Genesis, the story of the creation of the world, for this first morning of the Jewish New Year. 

Instead, we read Genesis 21 from Torah portion Vayera, and, as our haftarah, we read the opening chapters of the First Book of Samuel. 

One explanation for this practice is that each of these passages speaks of God’s faithfulness in our times of trouble.

When Sarah was struggling with infertility, Torah reassures us

וַֽה' פָּקַ֥ד אֶת־שָׂרָ֖ה כַּאֲשֶׁ֣ר אָמָ֑ר וַיַּ֧עַשׂ ה' לְשָׂרָ֖ה כַּאֲשֶׁ֥ר דִּבֵּֽר׃

“Adonai took note of Sarah as [Adonai] had promised, and did for Sarah as [Adonai] had spoken.”

And in this morning’s haftarah, when Hannah was similarly in despair,

וַֽיִּזְכְּרֶ֖הָ יי

--- “Adonai remembered her” (1 Samuel 1:19), prompting Hannah to sing

עָלַ֤ץ לִבִּי֙ בַּֽיי

“My heart exults in Adonai”  (1 Samuel 2:1)

And, more to the point, the choice of these texts is also related to the statement in the Talmud, Masechet Rosh Hashanah page 11a:

רַבִּי יְהוֹשֻׁעַ אוֹמֵר:... בְּרֹאשׁ הַשָּׁנָה נִפְקְדָה שָׂרָה רָחֵל וְחַנָּה

“Rabbi Yehoshua says … On Rosh Hashanah Sarah, Rachel and Hannah were remembered.”

Indeed, the traditional text of the Machzor frequently refers to Rosh Hashanah as “Yom Hazikaron” – “The Day of Remembrance.”

(And, by the way, we’ll meet up with Rachel in the haftarah for the second day of Rosh Hashanah tomorrow.)

………………..

We all know that life can be difficult. 

Life can be challenging.

Life can be painful.

The events of the past year, especially since last October 7th, lends credence to this observation.

But Judaism encourages us to persevere with hope and optimism --- to cultivate within ourselves the faith that God, however we may understand the nature of God, remembers us, and takes note of us – as Torah teaches God did for Sarah, Rachel and Hannah.

And as the psalmist instructs us: 

קַוֵּ֗ה אֶל־ה' חֲ֭זַק וְיַאֲמֵ֣ץ לִבֶּ֑ךָ וְ֝קַוֵּ֗ה אֶל־ה' ׃

Hope in the Eternal
be strong and of good courage!
Hope in the Eternal.[1]

For, as Jews, we understand that -- whatever befalls us -- we are not alone.

At the start of this dvar torah I spoke of how Rosh Hashanah is the start of the “Aseret Ymei Hateshuvah”/“The Ten Days of Teshuvah”.  And how the word “teshuvah” can be translated as either “return” or “repentance”.

The understanding of “teshuvah” as “return” is more characteristic of its use in the Biblical period.

The understanding of “teshuvah” as “tepentance” is more characteristic of the subsequent Rabbinic and Medieval eras that followed the destruction of the Second Temple. 

For us, almost two thousand years later, we might well combine the two definitions and think of “teshuvah” as being about “returning to our better selves”.

We do this, as Paul McCartney would say – “with a little help from our friends”

And we do this, as generations of our ancestors have taught us --- with faith in the unfailing presence of God, Tzuri ve-Go’ali – “my rock and my redeemer.”[2]

Just this past Shabbat, our Torah reading from Parashat Nitzavim, from Deuteronomy Chapter 30, included an extended passage incorporating various forms of the verb “to return” seven times in close succession.  One particular verse from that parasha strikes me as perhaps the most poignant verse in the whole Torah, at least as it is filtered through the commentary of the Talmud and Rashi.

As it says in Deuteronomy 30:3

וְשָׁ֨ב ה' אֱלֹהֶ֛יךָ אֶת־שְׁבוּתְךָ֖ וְרִחֲמֶ֑ךָ

(veshav Adonai Elohekha et shevutekha verichamekha)

The Jewish Publication Society translation in the Plaut Torah Commentary translates this as: “Then the Eternal your God will restore your fortunes”

However, as with so many passages in the Tanakh, the Hebrew is somewhat ambiguous and capable of multiple interpretations.

We can also translate the phrase

וְשָׁ֨ב ה' אֱלֹהֶ֛יךָ אֶת־שְׁבוּתְךָ֖ וְרִחֲמֶ֑ךָ

As “Adonai will return your returnees and be merciful to you.”

Or, to use the more poetic language of the old King James Version:

“The LORD thy God will turn thy captivity, and have compassion upon thee.”

This idea that the word “shevutekha” refers to the return of Israelites who have been exiled and in captivity is the version favored by the Talmud.

And, in doing so, they notice an anomaly in the grammar.

If it were about God acting to cause the Israelites to return from exile and captivity, the verb should have been in the causative form “veheyshiv” (והשיב)   rather than the simple form “veshav” (ושב).

The Torah saying “veshav” rather than “veheyshiv” implies that, as it were, God is also, Godself, returning along with all of the exiles as they return from exile back to the Land of Israel.

As Rashi, citing the Talmud, comments:

 הָיָה לוֹ לִכְתֹּב "וְהֵשִׁיב" אֶת שְׁבוּתְךָ, רַבּוֹתֵינוּ לָמְדוּ מִכָּאן כִּבְיָכוֹל שֶׁהַשְּׁכִינָה שְׁרוּיָה עִם יִשְׂרָאֵל בְּצָרַת גָּלוּתָם, וּכְשֶׁנִּגְאָלִין הִכְתִּיב גְּאֻלָּה לְעַצְמוֹ — שֶׁהוּא יָשׁוּב עִמָּהֶם.

Scripture should have written, וְהֵשִׁיב ה׳ אֶת שְׁבוּתְךָ  (veheyshiv Adonai et shevutekha) [with the verb וְהֵשִׁיב  (veheyshiv) being in the causative conjugation, meaning “to bring back”]. But our Rabbis learned from [the simple conjugation of the verb] here [which alludes to God, Godself, returning], that the Shechinah (the Divine Presence), as it were, resides among the Jewish people in the suffering of their exile. And when they are redeemed [from their exile], God writes [in Scripture an expression of] redemption for Godself, that God, as it were, returns along with them.[3]

I know that for theological skeptics among us, I’ve just thrown at you a lot of God-centered language.  And I realize that sometimes it’s easier to go with it when it’s in Hebrew rather than in the vernacular. 

But all of the above is not inconsistent with a more naturalistic style of spirituality, the kind of spirituality that says that God is present in our relationships with one another. 

That God is experienced in community. 

And that God, as it were, works through us as we strive for Tikkun Olam, the repair of this decidedly imperfect world.

And that, as we seek comfort, and meaning, and inspiration from our sacred tradition – and from our sacred bonds with one another --- we can say in humble piety:

בְּיָדוֹ אַפְקִיד רוּחִי, בְּעֵת אִישַׁן וְאָעִֽירָה:

וְעִם רוּחִי גְּוִיָּתִי, ה' לִי וְלֹא אִירָא:

(Beyado afkid ruchi, be’yet Ishan ve’a’irah, v’im ruchi geviyati, Adonai li velo ira.)

Into [God’s] hand I entrust my spirit [both] when I sleep and when I awaken.

And with my spirit my body [too], Adonoy is with me, I shall not fear. [4]

Amen.

© Rabbi David Steinberg

Rosh Hashanah 5785/ October 2024

[1] Psalms 27:14

[2] Psalms 19:15

[3] Rashi on Deuteronomy 30:3 citing Megillah 29a

[4] These words are from the closing stanza of the hymn “Adon Olam,” traditionally attributed to Solomon Ibn Gabriol (1021–1058), though its actually origin is uncertain.

ENDINGS AND BEGINNINGS

(Sermon for 1st night of Rosh Hashanah 5785)

October 2, 2024

Those of you who were with us for Ari S_____’s bat mitzvah a week and a half ago may remember that the Torah portion that Shabbat, Parashat Ki Tavo, contained a long, sweeping list of terrifying curses.  In that “TOCHACHA” or “REBUKE” passage in Deuteronomy Chapter 28, Moses warns the Israelites about the parade of horribles that they would suffer if they strayed from God’s commandments.  The schedule of our yearly Torah readings didn’t get standardized until the Middle Ages, but, centuries earlier, the Talmud was already teaching that we should recite that cascade of curses shortly before Rosh Hashanah.

The Talmud, in Masechet Megillah, page 31b, teaches that Ezra enacted that the curses that are recorded in the Book of Deuteronomy should be read before Rosh Hashanah.  The Gemara then asks – “Mai Tama?” -  “What is the reason for this?” And the answer it gives is

 כְּדֵי שֶׁתִּכְלֶה הַשָּׁנָה וְקִלְלוֹתֶיהָ

(kedey shetikhleh Hashanah vekileloteha)

“In order that the year may conclude together with its curses.”

To this day, in many Sephardic synagogues they open their Rosh Hashanah evening service with a 13th century poem that quotes that Talmudic teaching.  It’s called “Achot Ketanah” (“Little sister”), with the little sister of the poem serving as a metaphor for the Jewish people.

It begins as follows: 

אָחוֹת קְטַנָּה תְּפִלּוֹתֶיהָ. עוֹרְכָה וְעוֹנָה תְהִלּוֹתֶיהָ. אֵל נָא רְפָא נָא לְמַחֲלוֹתֶיהָ. תִּכְלֶה שָׁנָה וְקִלְלוֹתֶיהָ

“The little sister—her prayers
she arranges, and her praises she recites
Please, God, heal her illnesses now.
May the year and its curses come to an end!”

Each verse of that poem ends with the same refrain -- תִּכְלֶה שָׁנָה וְקִלְלוֹתֶיהָ /tichleh shanah vekileloteha/ May the year and its curses come to an end!

All that is except for the last verse:

חִזְקוּ וְגִילוּ כִּי שׁוֹד גָּמַר. לְצוּר הוֹחִילוּ בְּרִיתוֹ שָׁמַר, לָכֶם, וְתַעֲלוּ לְצִיּוֹן, וְאָמַר, סֹלּוּ סֹלּוּ מְסִלּוֹתֶיהָ. תָּחֵל שָׁנָה וּבִרְכוֹתֶיהָ

Be strong and rejoice
And you shall ascend to Zion
And [God] shall declare:
“Clear! Clear! Her paths.”

תָּחֵל שָׁנָה וּבִרְכוֹתֶיהָ/ tachel shanah uvirkhoteha
May the New Year and its blessings begin![1]

As I mentioned in an email message to all of you last month, most of the year 5784 has been a collective nightmare for all of us ever since the mass murder, mass rape and mass hostage taking perpetrated by the Hamas terrorist organization and its accomplices last October 7th.  Of the year 5784 we may indeed exclaim:

תִּכְלֶה שָׁנָה וְקִלְלוֹתֶיהָ

May the year and its curses come to an end!

 As we now enter the new year 5785, the hostages are still in captivity, Israelis and Palestinians are still ravaged by war and  --- not to forget -- Other parts of the world – like Ukraine and Sudan remain in conflict as well.  And yet we dare to hope and pray: 

תָּחֵל שָׁנָה וּבִרְכוֹתֶיהָ

May the New Year and its blessings begin!

As we enter this season of spiritual renewal, I find my thoughts turning to a verse from psalms: Psalm 68, verse 20 to be specific:

The verse is part of a long string of verses that we find in the traditional weekday morning and Shabbat afternoon prayer services. It goes like this:

בָּ֤ר֣וּךְ אֲדֹנָי֮ י֤וֹם ׀ י֥֫וֹם יַעֲמׇס־לָ֗נוּ הָ֘אֵ֤ל יְֽשׁוּעָתֵ֬נוּ סֶֽלָה׃

Barukh Adonai.

Yom Yom ya’amas lanu

Ha’el yeshuateynu . Selah

Blessed is Adonai.

Day by day supporting us,
God, our deliverance. Selah.

Now that’s just a brief Biblical quotation tucked away in one of the concluding prayers that are often skipped over in many less traditional minyanim.  And the verse doesn’t even make the final cut into any of the Reform or Reconstructionist prayer books that seek to make the prayer services shorter and more concise.  

But I have loved this verse ever since I first encountered it when I was living in Philadelphia back in the late 1990’s and used to attend a daily morning minyan at a Conservative shul down the street from my Center City apartment.

Barukh Adonai, yom yom ya’amas lanu/ Blessed is Adonai, Day by Day supporting us.

That phrase “yom yom” meaning “daily” or “day by day” really resonates for me.   For it has long seemed to me that faith in God is not about hoping for supernatural interventions in the law of nature.  Rather, it’s about appreciating the daily miracles of being alive.  It’s about developing the sensitivity to savor life’s joys.  It’s about finding the strength to persevere amid life’s adversities.  Those words from Psalm 68 sum it all up admirably:  Barukh Adonai, yom yom ya’amas lanu/ Blessed is Adonai, day by day supporting us.

That’s generally how the verse is understood in the Jewish Publication Society translation of the Tanakh and in various Conservative movement siddurim.

But a funny thing happened on the way to the liturgy:

It turns out that the Hebrew phrase “ya’amas lanu” is ambiguous.  Depending on the context it can have the opposite meaning.  Instead of meaning “supporting us” it can mean “burdening us”!

The Brown-Driver-Briggs Lexicon of Biblical Hebrew summarizes the matter by explaining that the verb la’amos (לעמוס)   – with those root letters ayin-mem-samech  (ע-מ-ס), can mean either to carry a load” (i.e. to provide support) OR to load upon (i.e., to impose a burden)

That second definition is the way the verse is translated in various Orthodox siddurim which follow the interpretive lead of traditional commentators like David Kimchi (France, late 12th century to early 13th century) and Etz Yosef (19th century Poland). They understand the verse to be saying that God, in fact, burdens us or places a load upon us.  But they go on to interpret that this burden is a good thing ---- that the “burden” or “load” being placed upon us consists of blessings. 

Indeed, Judaism in general understands the mitzvot themselves to be blessings.

Well, which interpretative approach to Psalm 68 verse 20 rings truer for us?  Does it feel truer to say that day by day God burdens us --- or to say that day by day God bears our burdens?

*   *   *

It seems to me that both interpretative approaches have merit.  Jewish tradition teaches us to look to God not only as a commander but also as a helper.  To look to God not only as the one who judges us but also as the one who advocates our cause.

These seemingly contradictory images appear throughout our High Holiday liturgy.  

Indeed, if the God of the machzor were running for president, God would certainly face partisan attacks for flip flopping.

But it’s no flip flop. Our tradition teaches us that the world is not governed by midat ha-din/ the Divine quality of Justice alone.  Nor is the world governed by midat ha-rachamim, the Divine quality of Mercy alone.

The rabbis derived this from the fact that Genesis 2:4 uses both of the traditional names of the Creator when it says

אֵ֣לֶּה תוֹלְד֧וֹת הַשָּׁמַ֛יִם וְהָאָ֖רֶץ בְּהִבָּֽרְאָ֑ם בְּי֗וֹם עֲשׂ֛וֹת יְהֹוָ֥ה אֱלֹהִ֖ים אֶ֥רֶץ וְשָׁמָֽיִם׃

This is the history of the heavens and the earth when they were created, on the day when ADONAI ELOHIM made earth and heaven.

 In Jewish tradition, the name “Adonai” (typically translated as “Lord or Eternal One) symbolizes midat harachamim/ the attribute of mercy and the name “Elohim” (translated as “God”) represents midat hadin/ the attribute of justice.  There is a classic midrash  in the rabbinic collection Bereshit Rabbah that expresses it well:

“Adonai Elohim” made earth and heaven.”  A parable of a king who had cups made of delicate glass.  The king said:  If I pour hot water into them, they will [expand and] burst;  if I pour cold water they will contract [and break].  What did he do?  He mixed hot water and cold water, and poured it into them, and so they remained unbroken.  Likewise, the Holy One said:  If I create the world with the attribute of mercy alone, its sins will be too many; if with justice alone, how could the world be expected to endure?  So I will create it with both justice and mercy, and may it endure!”[2]

In the Talmud, in Masechet Berachot/ The Tractate on Blessings, we learn that just as we pray, God also prays.  And what does God pray? 

“May it be my will that my mercy overcome my anger that I might deal with my children with the quality of compassion and not merely strict justice."  (Ber. 7a)

*   *    * 

It’s not that God flip flops, or that God can’t stay the course.  Rather, it’s that God, as it were, sees us for the imperfect, complex beings we are, and sees our world for the complex place it is.

*   *   *

Of course, to make faith statements like this is to use metaphorical, poetic language.  When we affirm such things about God, we are also affirming our belief that we too should seek to understand the complexity and profundity of each person we encounter and each situation we face.

*    *    *

I find merit in both understandings of the words “ya’amas lanu:”

(1) Ya’amas lanu – God bears our burden – only laying upon us that which we have the capacity to handle – or, as we say in the Birchot Hashachar/ the Morning Blessings – Barukh.. she’asah li kawl tzarki/ “Blessed is the One who provides for all my needs.”

(2) Ya’amas lanu -- God places upon us the burden of living up to our ethical and religious values.  And yet this burden is also a blessing because doing so gives us the opportunity to become closer to God and closer to one another.   

*   *    *

In a certain sense, the traditional prayers of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur pivot around these two complementary views of God in Judaism  -- burden reliever and burden placer – advocate and judge – loving parent and commanding sovereign --- adonai and eloheynu --  avinu and malkeinu.

And so we will pray tomorrow morning before the open ark:  Avinu malkeinu/ Our parent and our sovereign – chaneinu v’aneynu – be gracious and answer us – ki eyn banu ma’asim – for we have too few good deeds to face a standard of strict justice. And so we implore --  Asey imanu tzedakah vachesed – act towards us with justice tempered by mercy, v’hoshieynu – and save us.

I hope and pray that our times together in shul during these Days of Awe, as well as the times we spend with our loved ones, and also the times that we spend alone --- will be times that are fruitful for the task of examining our lives.   As we seek God’s forgiveness, may we be forgiving of our neighbors and may we be forgiving of our selves.

תִּכְלֶה שָׁנָה וְקִלְלוֹתֶיהָ / May the old year – 5784 -- and its curses come to an end!

תָּחֵל שָׁנָה וּבִרְכוֹתֶיהָ / May the New Year – 5785 -- and its blessings begin!

Amen.

© Rabbi David Steinberg

October 2024/ Rosh Hashanah 5785

[1] Here’s a link to a YouTube video of a rendition of those opening and closing verses of “Achot Ketanah”:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jTMbRxST34Y

[2] Bereshit Rabbah 12:15 as rendered in Bialik & Ravnitsky, The Book of Legends: Sefer Ha-Aggadah, William G. Braude, translator, Schocken Books, 1992.)

RESETTING THE NARRATIVE

Dvar Torah for Shabbat Shelakh Lekha (Numbers 13:1 – 15:41)

(Composed and delivered at Temple Israel on Friday evening 6/28/2024, the day after the first Biden-Trump debate of the 2024 election season.)

The first two thirds of this week’s Torah portion, Shelakh Lekha, contain the story of the 12 scouts, who are recruited to carry out a reconnaissance mission of the Promised Land.  Upon their return, all of them seem to agree that it is a wonderfully fertile place, a land

 זָבַ֨ת חָלָ֥ב וּדְבַ֛שׁ

“flowing with milk and honey.”[1]  

At least, that’s what the majority reports, and Caleb and Joshua don’t argue otherwise.

But Caleb and Joshua’s analysis diverges sharply from that of the other 10 scouts with respect to the military challenges ahead. The 10 who form the majority describe the land as one that devours its inhabitants. 

Those ten argue that the Israelites would not have the ability to overcome the Amalekite and Canaanite tribes against whom they would have to battle in order to gain their foothold in the land that God had promised to them.

But Caleb responds: 

עָלֹ֤ה נַעֲלֶה֙ וְיָרַ֣שְׁנוּ אֹתָ֔הּ כִּֽי־יָכ֥וֹל נוּכַ֖ל לָֽהּ׃

“We can surely go up [to the land] and gain possession of it for we are surely able to overcome it.” [2]

(And for you Hebrew grammar mavens, note that there are two examples of infinitive absolute verbs in that one verse.)

But the majority get the last word, despairingly claiming that the people they saw there were veritable giants and that 

וַנְּהִ֤י בְעֵינֵ֙ינוּ֙ כַּֽחֲגָבִ֔ים וְכֵ֥ן הָיִ֖ינוּ בְּעֵינֵיהֶֽם׃

“we looked like grasshoppers to ourselves, and so we must have looked to them.”

In the Talmud we learn that a minyan, the required quorum for public prayer, requires ten people because God, later in the parasha, refers to those ten scouts who gave the majority report as an “edah” or congregation. [3]

So we have this idea that ten people can form a representative microcosm of a congregation at large.  And, indeed, the Israelites at large who are gathered around these returning scouts immediately turn on Moses and Aaron and Caleb and Joshua and threaten to stone them to death, and loudly demand that a new leader be chosen to lead the people back to Egypt.

It seems like the Torah is saying that subjective perceptions can bring about objective realities.  The pundits say the task is hopeless and so the public at large accepts as objective fact what might otherwise be viewed as simply opinion and analysis.

Let me try to connect this to current events without being too explicitly partisan about it:

This morning, after last night’s first Presidential debate of the 2024 election season, pundits of all political stripes are tripping over themselves to be the first to declare that President Biden’s performance shows that he is incapable of defeating his opponent.

Meanwhile, pundits who oppose the former president have been arguing for years already that if former President Trump were returned to the White House that this would spell the end of American Democracy.

How true either of these propositions might be is a matter of deeply divided opinion in our nation, even if many of us often silo ourselves among folks we agree with and distance ourselves from those who could possibly think otherwise.

In our Torah portion it all turns out disastrously.  God decrees that the generation that has come out of Egypt and that has become convinced by the pessimistic majority report -- this generation of self-described “grasshoppers” -- will never see the Promised Land.  That they will have to wait for the next generation. A journey from Mt. Sinai to the Promised Land which should have taken eleven days[4] will now require an additional 38 years to complete. The entire generation of pessimists, with the exceptions of Joshua and Caleb, will be doomed to die in the wilderness.

Today as I was studying the Torah portion I found myself dwelling on the immediate aftermath of God’s frightening decree.  One would think that the people would just cower in depression --- just like many supporters of President Biden have been doing in the past twenty-two hours.   And, indeed, the Torah reports that the immediate response of the Israelites after Moses relays God’s judgment is that  

וַיִּֽתְאַבְּל֥וּ הָעָ֖ם מְאֹֽד׃

“The people mourned greatly.”[5]

But the tone is different the next morning.  The people rally!  As it says in the very next verse: 

וַיַּשְׁכִּ֣מוּ בַבֹּ֔קֶר וַיַּֽעֲל֥וּ אֶל־רֹאשׁ־הָהָ֖ר לֵאמֹ֑ר הִנֶּ֗נּוּ וְעָלִ֛ינוּ אֶל־הַמָּק֛וֹם אֲשֶׁר־אָמַ֥ר יְהֹוָ֖ה כִּ֥י חָטָֽאנוּ׃

 They arose early the next morning and went up towards the crest of the hill country, saying, “Hinenu”/ “Here we are” --  we shall go up to the place that Adonai has spoken of, for we have done wrong”.[6]

(i.e., done wrong in despairing of the hope of success and in calling for returning to Egypt.)

Driving to Temple today I was listening to CNN on the satellite radio in my car.  They were broadcasting live a spirited Biden campaign rally in North Carolina. The buoyant, combative mood of that rally reminded me of the same psychological “reset” from the previous night that we find in our parasha, with the Israelites bewailing “we are like grasshoppers” but only hours later reversing course and arguing HINENU VE’ALINU --- WE ARE HERE AND WE WILL INDEED GO UP TO THE LAND! 

It's so interesting to me that the response of Moses, and God, Aaron and Joshua and Caleb to the people’s change of heart is decidedly not --- OKAY, WAY TO GO! LET’S DO THIS!

Rather, their response is – nope, nope, nope --- You showed your true colors last night.  This is a hopeless endeavor and we’ll get slaughtered if we try to follow through with the original plan.  And, indeed, the Torah reports that they try to advance but the Amalekites and Canaanites slaughter the fighting forces. 

And that’s the end of the story.

In the next chapter the Torah switches gears and talks about random legislation that will come into force when the next generation eventually gets to the Land of Israel – but end of story for this generation.

If you want to read this as a parable that can teach our political pundits and operatives anything, you might conclude that a terrible debate performance means that the path you’re on is doomed to failure, despite subsequent attempts to reset the narrative.

But I don’t know.

There’s also this pesky detail in the parasha.

At Numbers 14:44 it says that when the Israelites’ fighting forces advanced in battle, despite having been previously told that it would be useless, that at that time  

וַאֲר֤וֹן בְּרִית־ה֙’ וּמֹשֶׁ֔ה לֹא־מָ֖שׁוּ מִקֶּ֥רֶב הַֽמַּחֲנֶֽה׃

“Neither the Ark of the Covenant of Adonai nor Moses stirred from the midst of the Camp.”

Moses (and the Levites under Aaron’s command) stayed put.  They followed the analysis of the Divine Pundit and gave up.

And so, the campaign failed.

One might respond – well, God is not just a divine pundit – God’s word is law and that’s that. 

That would be the traditional pious response.

However, from a contemporary literary perspective, we understand that the Torah is made up of various narrative sources spliced together.  Indeed, there are some narrative inconsistencies in our parasha itself.

So, what’s the real story?

Is the narrator always reliable?

Is there another way?

As far as Parashat Shelakh Lekha is concerned, we don’t know because Moses and the Ark stay put and do not stir, while the rest of the folks try to reset the narrative but, of course, are unable to do so without the continued commitment of Moses and without the presence of that Ark.

Meanwhile, for all of us, if the past week has been challenging, may the arrival of Shabbat provide us with the blessing of being able to reset the narrative.

Shabbat shalom!

© Rabbi David Steinberg (June 2024/ Sivan 5784)

[1] Numbers 13:27

[2] Numbers 13:30

[3] Megillah 23b:8

[4] See Deuteronomy 1:2

[5] Numbers 14:39

[6] Numbers 14:40

STRAINED RELATIONS

Dvar Torah for Parashat Naso (Num. 5:1 – 7:89)

(Offered at Temple Israel on Friday 6/14/2024)

Broadly speaking, the first ten chapters of the Book of Numbers deal with various efforts to organize the Israelite encampment and to prepare it for leaving Mt. Sinai on its journey to the Promised Land. 

In last week’s Torah portion, Parashat Bemidbar, a military readiness census was taken and the various tribes were organized in terms of their positions around the tabernacle.

In this week’s Torah portion, Parashat Naso, a census of the Levites, begun towards the end of last week’s parasha, is concluded.

After that, the text turns to questions of preserving the holiness and ritual purity of the camp.  In other words, last week’s parasha was about building up defenses against potential external foes. And this week’s portion is about building up defenses against internal threats.

What types of internal threats?

First, in Numbers 5: 1-4, there is a provision about temporary isolation of anyone who is ritually impure because of proximity to a corpse or because of abnormal bodily discharges. 

Next, in Numbers 5: 5-10, we have a provision about restitution requirements when one person has wronged another in a monetary dispute.

Next in Numbers 5: 11-31, we have the case of the “Sotah” – a wife suspected by her husband of having committed adultery. A number of traditional commentators see the Sotah ritual as the Torah’s attempt to RECONCILE marriage partners whose union is on the rocks and whose marital disputes have become publicly disruptive to the community around them.  Thus, this is a third example in Parashat Naso of attempts to promote harmony within Machane Yisael/ The Israelite Camp so as to ready them for the onward journey forth from Sinai to the Promised Land.  

Finally, in Numbers, chapter 6, we have the ritual of the Nazirite vow. And this can be seen as a method for channeling the religious enthusiasm of individuals who, because they were not among the descendants of Aaron, could not become Kohanim or Priests. 

As Rabbi David Kasher observes in a dvar torah he published this week,

All of these cases deal with social pariahs, people who have become isolated from the larger community. They are inserted here, just after the description of the camp and just before the camp is inaugurated with offerings. Together, they serve as a kind of warning, before the operation of the camp begins, of the kinds of circumstances that can endanger someone’s place in the camp. Each of these cases, therefore, also provides some mechanism for ending the state of social isolation,and bringing the castout back into the life of the camp.[1]

There’s a lot to be said for this basic analytic approach to our Torah portion.

But, as with much of Biblical Tradition, the “elephant in the room,” so to speak, is the sexist, and arguably misogynist attitude towards women.  The Sotah ritual described in our Torah portion subjects a suspected wife to a trial by ordeal. If her husband suspects her of being a “sotah” (i.e, of having “gone astray” with another man), he is to bring her to a kohen (priest) who forces her to drink a bitter mixture of water and dirt.  Supposedly, the drink will cause her to suffer serious, life-threatening physical ailments if she is guilty.  But, if she’s innocent, then the drink will cause no ill effects and she’ll be assured of future fertility. But the reverse is not true:  Adultery in the Torah is defined as a wife cheating on her husband, and not vice versa.  There is no equivalent procedure that a wife can force upon a husband whom she suspects is cheating on her.

On Shavuot, just a few days ago, our holiday Torah reading featured the Ten Commandments, of which the seventh of those ten is “Lo Tin’af.”/ “You shall not commit adultery.” [2] This is indeed a serious offense – Leviticus 20:10 prescribes the death penalty for both participants in the extramarital affair! 

The Sotah ritual in our Torah portion doesn’t use the term “Tin’af” because, by definition, the designation of a woman as a “Sotah” means that there were no witnesses to this woman’s real or alleged unfaithfulness.  As it says in Numbers 5:13 ----

 וְעֵד֙ אֵ֣ין בָּ֔הּ

“There is no witness against her.”

The only evidence of her transgression is that the husband has been overcome by “Ru’ach Kin’ah” a spirit of jealousy --- whether justifiably or not. (Numbers 5:14)

Studying the parasha this week I couldn’t help but think about how sexism continues to plague contemporary society. Recent years have seen many attempts here in the United States towards turning the clock backwards regarding female empowerment. The most egregious example of this is of course was the Supreme Court’s striking down last year of a woman’s right to reproductive choice.  

Those who long sought to overturn Roe v. Wade often argued that they were doing so on the basis of States’ rights.  In other words, individual states should have the right to ban abortion or not ban abortion, and it shouldn’t be a federal matter.

But, of course, as soon as Roe v. Wade was overruled last year by the Dobbs decision, anti-choice forces began lobbying for national bans on abortion.

The outcomes of this year’s Presidential and congressional elections may well determine whether or not they will succeed.

In recent years, abortions have become more likely to be carried out through medication rather than through surgical procedures.  But now, anti-choice forces have been trying to restrict the use or distribution of the drugs needed for that procedure, despite those drugs having been approved for safety by the FDA decades ago.

So, there was a bit of good news this week that the Supreme Court unanimously ruled that plaintiffs who wanted to restrict the availability of the drug mifepristone did not have standing to bring the case. However, the future availability of medication abortion remains uncertain given that other legal challenges remain pending. [3]

We might argue that the United States is in danger of regressing in its legal treatment of women. 

On the other hand, we can at least note that the Jewish legal tradition, the halacha, has shown a progressive side with respect to the ritual of the Sotah.

By the time of the Mishna in the early centuries of the common era, the entire procedure had been abolished by rabbinic fiat.

As it is taught in the Mishnah in Tractate Sotah --- yep – there is an entire tractate on this subject in the Mishnah and the Talmud –

מִשֶּׁרַבּוּ הַמְנָאֲפִים, פָּסְקוּ הַמַּיִם הַמָּרִים, וְרַבָּן יוֹחָנָן בֶּן זַכַּאי הִפְסִיקָן, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר  "לֹא אֶפְקוֹד עַל בְּנוֹתֵיכֶם כִּי תִזְנֶינָה וְעַל כַּלּוֹתֵיכֶם כִּי תְנָאַפְנָה כִּי הֵם (עִם־הַזֹּנ֣וֹת יְפָרֵ֔דוּ)."

 

From the time when adulterers proliferated, the performance of the ritual of the bitter waters was nullified; they would not administer the bitter waters to the sota. And it was Rabbi Yoḥanan ben Zakkai who nullified it, as it is stated [in the Book of Hosea]: “I will not punish your daughters when they commit harlotry, nor your daughters-in-law when they commit adultery; for they consort with lewd women” (Hosea 4:14), meaning that when the husbands are adulterers, the wives are not punished for their own adultery (M. Sotah 9:9)

It's a cynical sort of legal reasoning, but at least it’s a step towards equal treatment of men and women.

As for contemporary society, egalitarianism remains a goal whose level of attainment continues to vary depending on where one lives, but the struggle continues.

Shabbat shalom.

© Rabbi David Steinberg 5784/2024

[1] https://www.hadar.org/torah-tefillah/resources/out-camp

[2] Exodus 20:13

[3] https://theconversation.com/supreme-court-unanimously-concludes-that-anti-abortion-groups-have-no-standing-to-challenge-access-to-mifepristone-but-the-drug-likely-faces-more-court-challenges-232453

UPRIGHT

Dvar Torah for Shabbat Bechukotai given at Temple Israel on 5/31/24 (24 Iyar 5784)

(Lev. 26:3 – 27:34)

This Shabbat we come to the end of the Book of Leviticus, with Parashat Bechukotai.  

Most of this Torah portion consists of a short list of blessings followed by a long list of curses that God promises as rewards for obeying or as punishments for disobeying God’s mitzvot.

The blessings and curses run the gamut from military victories and defeats, to agricultural surpluses and shortages, to climatic forecasts, to psychological syndromes.

I thought I would share a few thoughts about one of the curses mentioned in the Torah portion and one of the blessings mentioned in it.

It’s very striking, but psychologically perceptive, that the climax of that long list of curses speaks about fear that comes about when there is actually nothing to be afraid of. 

As it says in our parasha at Leviticus 26:36

וְהַנִּשְׁאָרִ֣ים בָּכֶ֔ם וְהֵבֵ֤אתִי מֹ֙רֶךְ֙ בִּלְבָבָ֔ם בְּאַרְצֹ֖ת אֹיְבֵיהֶ֑ם וְרָדַ֣ף אֹתָ֗ם ק֚וֹל עָלֶ֣ה נִדָּ֔ף וְנָס֧וּ מְנֻֽסַת־חֶ֛רֶב וְנָפְל֖וּ וְאֵ֥ין רֹדֵֽף׃

As for those of you who survive, I will cast a faintness into their hearts in the land of their enemies. The sound of a driven leaf shall put them to flight. Fleeing as though from the sword, they shall fall though none pursues.

These words, though written thousands of years ago, retain their power today. Our people’s experience of centuries of oppression and violence, culminating in the Shoa’ah less than a century ago, have no doubt instilled in all of us a certain degree of intergenerational trauma. Especially for those of us who are old enough to have grown up when the memory of the Shoah was fresher, and when many more Holocaust survivors were among us than is the case today, it can be easy to see the specter of antisemitism arising all around us. And, sometimes, as our Torah portion predicts, this can be an exaggerated fear or even a paranoid fear.

“The sound of a driven leaf putting us to flight…. Fleeing though none pursues….”

Putting this into current context --- The demonstrations and encampments protesting Israel’s conduct of the current war have caused on the part of many Jews a sense of fear and danger for their, for our, own safety.  And much of this is an exaggerated fear.  Discomfort is not synonymous with Danger.

And yet, we have indeed also seen in recent months incidents in the United States and around the world in which Jews have been attacked simply for being Jews.  The rise of such antisemitism is indeed real and not just the sound of a driven leaf.

We would all do well to be prudent but not paranoid.  And I know we are all deeply appreciative of the efforts of our security committee, and our ushers and of the Duluth Police Department who are all working cooperatively to ensure our safety as we gather together as a Jewish community.

But I also want to talk about a blessing that looms large in our Torah portion.

The climax of the curses in Parashat Bechukotai is that immoblizing fear, that trauma that might make us, as it were, afraid of our own shadow.

But the climax of the blessings in the earlier part of our Torah portion presents another outlook:

As it says in Leviticus 26: 11-13:

וְנָתַתִּ֥י מִשְׁכָּנִ֖י בְּתוֹכְכֶ֑ם וְלֹֽא־תִגְעַ֥ל נַפְשִׁ֖י אֶתְכֶֽם׃

וְהִתְהַלַּכְתִּי֙ בְּת֣וֹכְכֶ֔ם וְהָיִ֥יתִי לָכֶ֖ם לֵֽאלֹהִ֑ים וְאַתֶּ֖ם תִּהְיוּ־לִ֥י לְעָֽם׃

אֲנִ֞י יְהֹוָ֣ה אֱלֹֽהֵיכֶ֗ם אֲשֶׁ֨ר הוֹצֵ֤אתִי אֶתְכֶם֙ מֵאֶ֣רֶץ מִצְרַ֔יִם מִֽהְיֹ֥ת לָהֶ֖ם עֲבָדִ֑ים וָאֶשְׁבֹּר֙ מֹטֹ֣ת עֻלְּכֶ֔ם וָאוֹלֵ֥ךְ אֶתְכֶ֖ם קֽוֹמְמִיּֽוּת׃ {פ}

I will establish My abode in your midst, and I will not spurn you.

I will be ever present in your midst: I will be your God, and you shall be My people.

I the Eternal am your God who brought you out from the land of the Egyptians to be their slaves no more, who broke the bars of your yoke and made you walk upright.

That image of walking KOMEMIYUT --- upright or erect ----  is used as well in our liturgy.  In contrast to centuries in which Jews were downtrodden, oppressed and attacked --- the prayer Ahava Rabba in the daily shacharit liturgy says:

וַהֲבִיאֵֽנוּ לְשָׁלוֹם מֵאַרְבַּע כַּנְפוֹת הָאָֽרֶץ וְתוֹלִיכֵֽנוּ קוֹמְ֒מִיּוּת לְאַרְצֵֽנוּ:

“Bring us in peace from the four corners of the earth and lead us upright ( קוֹמְ֒מִיּוּת / komemiyut)  to our land.”

And, similarly, in the Birkat Hamazon/ The Grace after Meals, we say: 

הָרַחֲמָן הוּא יִשְׁבּוֹר עֻלֵּֽנוּ מֵעַל צַוָּארֵֽנוּ וְהוּא יוֹלִיכֵֽנוּ קוֹמְ֒מִיּוּת לְאַרְצֵֽנוּ

“May the All-Merciful One will break the yoke (of oppression) from our necks and lead us upright ( קוֹמְ֒מִיּוּת / komemiyut)  to our land.”

Zionism is getting a bad wrap these days.  But the political movement to establish and maintain the State of Israel as the national homeland of the Jewish people, as it always was throughout the centuries of forced exile, is a project of KOMEMIYUT.

A way that the Jewish people can hold our heads high, and walk קוֹמְ֒מִיּוּת/KOMEMIYUT /UPRIGHT - and where our Jewish culture and civilization need not be an afterthought or a grudging accommodation on the part of the majority culture – as it is in the United States and everywhere else in the world.

Don’t get me wrong, I consider it very much a blessing to have the good fortune of having been born in the United States --- and not, for example, in Germany under Hitler, or Russia under Stalin, or as a second-class denizen in any number of places and eras where Jews were oppressed.

But there is no doubt that the existence of the State of Israel is a game changer for Jewish life around the world. 

It is not perfect --- by any means.

Just as the United States is not perfect – by any means.

But that blessing of walking KOMEMIYUT – upright – as a Jew,  is intertwined with the Zionist project.

I, for one, am a Zionist.

To me, that is inseparable from the fact that I am a Jew.

My recent sabbatical in Israel has only strengthened those convictions.  Thank you so much for making it possible for me to have that precious time away, thank you to all of you who have stepped up to keep our worship services, programs, holiday celebrations and community activities going in my absence, and thank you so much for warmly welcoming me back. 

These are challenging times for the Jewish people and for the world at large.  May we see peace, justice and reconciliation in Israel and the Palestinian Territories, in this country, and in the world of large ---  and may a spirit of compassion and compromise prevail in a world of complexities.

Shabbat shalom.

© Rabbi David Steinberg (May 2024/ Iyar 5784)

RETURNING

Dvar Torah for Parashat Behar (Leviticus 25:1- 26:2)

(Given at Temple Israel on Friday, 5/24/2024)

In this week’s Torah portion, Parashat Behar, we learn about the institution of Shnat Hayovel – The Jubilee Year. Once every 50 years there was to be a massive economic reboot, when debts would be forgiven, foreclosed family homesteads would be returned to those who had been chased off them, and enslaved people would go free. 

Of this occasion the Torah commands –

וְקִדַּשְׁתֶּ֗ם אֵ֣ת שְׁנַ֤ת הַחֲמִשִּׁים֙ שָׁנָ֔ה וּקְרָאתֶ֥ם דְּר֛וֹר בָּאָ֖רֶץ לְכׇל־יֹשְׁבֶ֑יהָ יוֹבֵ֥ל הִוא֙ תִּהְיֶ֣ה לָכֶ֔ם וְשַׁבְתֶּ֗ם אִ֚ישׁ אֶל־אֲחֻזָּת֔וֹ וְאִ֥ישׁ אֶל־מִשְׁפַּחְתּ֖וֹ תָּשֻֽׁבוּ׃

You shall hallow the fiftieth year. You shall proclaim release throughout the land for all its inhabitants. It shall be a jubilee for you: each of you shall return to your holding and each of you shall return to your family.[1]

That idea of “return” is prominent in Judaism. As it says in Psalm 126, which opens the grace after meals on Shabbat and festivals:

שׁוּבָ֣ה יְ֭הֹוָה אֶת־שְׁבִיתֵ֑נוּ כַּאֲפִיקִ֥ים בַּנֶּֽגֶב׃

הַזֹּרְעִ֥ים בְּדִמְעָ֗ה בְּרִנָּ֥ה יִקְצֹֽרוּ׃

Bring back our captives, O God,
like watercourses in the Negeb.

They who sow in tears
shall reap with songs of joy.[2]

Almost half of the world’s Jews today live in Israel. Our people have lived continuously in the Land of Israel for some three thousand years --- since more than a millennium prior to the birth of Christianity or prior to the Arab conquest that followed the founding of Islam.  But most of us were exiled after the Land of Israel was conquered and occupied by one foreign power after another, from the Roman Empire to the Muslim caliphates, to the Crusaders, to the Ottoman Empire. Modern Zionism developed during the late 19th and early 20th century in large part as a response to the age-old threat of antisemitism.  For Theodor Herzl and other early Zionists, Jews could ultimately only be safe and secure in a sovereign Jewish country.  Such ideas were only accelerated by the experience of the Holocaust, when a third of our people were murdered while the British mandatory authorities sought to bar Jews from finding sanctuary in our historic homeland.

When, in the Israeli national anthem, we sing the words “Hatikvah Bat Shnot Alpayim” (“The hope of two thousand years”), what is that hope to which the song refers?  “Lihyot am chofshi b’artzeinu, Eretz Tziyon virushalayim” ---  “To be a free people in our land, the land of Zion and Jerusalem. 

It is far from clear as a matter of historical record, whether the institution of Shnat Hayovel/ The Jubilee Year, that 50th year when the displaced would return to their ancestral homes, was ever fully carried out in Ancient Israel.  But, with the rise of Modern Zionism, the idea finally came to fruition on a much grander scale – and none too soon.

It was a privilege and a blessing for me to be able to spend the past three months on Sabbatical in Jerusalem. The past seven and a half months since the terrorists of Hamas murdered over 1200 people in Israel and took over 200 hostage have been heart-wrenching.  Everywhere you look in Israel there are posters with the names and faces of the hostages inscribed with slogans like ---- “Bring them Home Now” and “Together we will prevail.”  Every Shabbat service includes prayers for the rescue of the hostages and the safety of the members of the Israel Defense Forces who are trying to rescue them and to defeat the terrorists.

Even in places like movie theaters, concert halls, and El Al flights --- the standard announcements about silencing your cell phones and fastening your seat belts are augmented by expressions of concern for the hostages and the IDF.

Within most of the territory of Israel itself, life goes on. But there is of course an undercurrent of mental and emotional fatigue.

Still, I have to admit that the thoughts that sometimes kept me up at night while I was living in Jerusalem were not so much about my safety over there as about the rising tide of anti-Israel activism that I would face coming back to the United States. 

Israel is fighting a war of life and death against a nihilistic organization that wishes to murder every Israeli it can --- from the Jordan River to the Mediterranean Sea.  Yet meanwhile, much of the world – including here in the United States --- accuses Israel of genocide of Palestinians when in fact it is Israel that is trying to prevent Hamas and its terrorist accomplices from continuing their genocidal efforts against Israel  --- efforts that reached their most recent climax on October 7th, 2023.  

And, of course, Hamas’s intentional tactics of embedding its fighters, its missiles, its armaments and its tunnels amidst civilian neighborhoods, hospitals and schools has resulted in horrific consequences for the general Gazan population. No one doubts that it’s all horrific.

Yet it can only be with the defeat of Hamas that we can have any hope of establishing a lasting era of peace between the population of the State of Israel and the population of the Palestinian territories.  Progressive Zionists like me long for the day when those territories can become an independent Palestinian state living in peace alongside of --- and not instead of – the State of Israel.

During my time in Israel, I was inspired by the volunteer efforts of Israelis and visitors from abroad to support those in need, and to support those risking their lives to defend the nation. 

A few weeks ago, I took part in a day long group excursion to the regions bordering Gaza that had experienced the brunt of the terror on October 7th. As part of that tour, we visited a rest area adjacent to the community of Shuva.  Shuva is a moshav that was settled in the 1950’s by Jewish immigrants and refugees from Libya, Algeria, and Tunisia. It’s located four miles east of the Gaza border. Its fields became a hub for Israeli army operations during the Hamas mass terror attack on October 7. Initial medical treatment was provided at Shuva Junction since that was the nearest place to the fighting where helicopters could safely land, and patients were transported or flown from there to hospitals elsewhere in Israel.  Recognizing a need, three brothers from the moshav, Eliran, Kobi, and Dror, set up a rest station there for the IDF soldiers, offering coffee, tea, and later meals, and personal supplies.[3]

It was inspiring to visit Shuva, and to meet the volunteers, local residents, and soldiers who were passing through.  On the wall behind the lunch counter there at Shuva hung a sign in Hebrew with those words from Psalm 126 from which the Moshav had apparently taken its name:  

שׁוּבָ֣ה יְ֭הֹוָה אֶת־שְׁבִיתֵ֑נוּ כַּאֲפִיקִ֥ים בַּנֶּֽגֶב׃

הַזֹּרְעִ֥ים בְּדִמְעָ֗ה בְּרִנָּ֥ה יִקְצֹֽרוּ׃

(Shuva Adonai et sheviteynu ka’afikim banegev; hazor’im bedim’ah berinah yiktzoru)

Bring back our captives, O God,
like watercourses in the Negeb.

They who sow in tears
shall reap with songs of joy.[4]

May the day come soon when that dream will be fully realized.

Shabbat shalom.

© Rabbi David Steinberg (May 2024/ Iyar 5784)

[1] Lev. 25:10

[2] Psalm 126: 4-5

[3] https://dannythedigger.com/shuva/

[4] Psalm 126: 4-5

WHAT TIME IS IT?

Dvar Torah on Parashat Lekh Lekha: Gen. 12:1 – 17:27)

(Given at Temple Israel on Friday evening 10/27/2023)

This week’s Torah portion, Lekh Lekha, opens with God speaking to Avraham (then called Avram) – out of the blue and without warning – and commanding him:

לֶךְ־לְךָ֛ מֵאַרְצְךָ֥ וּמִמּֽוֹלַדְתְּךָ֖ וּמִבֵּ֣ית אָבִ֑יךָ אֶל־הָאָ֖רֶץ אֲשֶׁ֥ר אַרְאֶֽךָּ׃

(“Lekh lekha mey’artzekha, umimoladtekha umibeyt avikha el ha’aretz asher areka)

“Go forth from your land, your birthplace and your father’s house to the land that I will show you.”[1]  

Which Avram immediately does --- taking along with him his wife Sarah (then called Sarai), his orphaned nephew Lot who had been living with them, as well as all their household servants, animals and possessions.

No doubt about it, this is a brave thing to do.  To set out at the age of 75 to a completely new life in a strange new place.  But maybe Avram and Sarai could do it because they had each other, and because they had faith and hope. 

Later in the Torah portion, Avram and Lot part from one another when their shepherds start fighting with one another and it seems that they need more space and more distance between them.  Avram stays in the land of Canaan, while Lot leaves for the cities of the plain.

But Uncle Avram doesn’t forget his family ties to Lot.  When war breaks out among nine different armies in the region, and Lot and his household are caught up in the fighting and taken captive by invading armies, Avram springs into action.  Even though he is outnumbered, and the odds are against him, Avram knows that he cannot forsake his nephew in his hour of need. 

As the Torah relates: 

Hearing that his kinsman had been taken captive, Avram mustered his retainers, born into his household, 318 of them, going in pursuit as far as Dan. At night he deployed himself and his forces against them, pursuing them as far as Hobah, north of Damascus. He then brought back all the possessions, his nephew Lot, too, and his possessions; the women, too, and the [other] people.[2]

In Jewish tradition, this passage from Parashat Lekh Lekha became a proof text for the traditional Jewish value of “pidyon shevuyim” (“Redemption of Captives”). 

Many times in history this has involved the payment of ransom.  However, in recent times, the State of Israel has had to confront Palestinian terrorist kidnappers who have instead demanded the release of convicted terrorists held in Israeli prisons.  Because the Jewish value of pidyon shevuyim is so important, Israel in 2011 released over one thousand Palestinian prisoners in return for the release of Gilad Shalit, an Israeli soldier who had been kidnapped five years earlier by terrorists who had infiltrated Israel via tunnels from Gaza.[3]

Fast forward to this month, when on October 7th, the Shabbat of Simchat Torah, Palestinian terrorists from Hamas and Islamic Jihad stormed across the border from Gaza to murder over 1400 Israeli citizens and foreign nationals, and to kidnap over 200 hostages. 

This time around, Israel is in no mood for negotiating prisoner releases or paying ransoms.  As we gather here, the Israeli military response to the attack of October 7th is ongoing and our hearts are in our hands as we fret over the danger to Israeli soldiers, to Israeli and foreign hostages, and to Palestinians civilians caught up in the fighting in Gaza.  And, lest we forget, Hamas continues every day to shoot missiles at civilian targets in Israel.  Friends of mine in Tel Aviv have been rushing to bomb shelters multiple times almost every day. And meanwhile, Hezbollah terrorists in Southern Lebanon have been firing missiles at northern Israeli communities.

We pray for peace, but we also pray for Israel to be able to defeat the scourge represented by Hamas.  The latter goal appears to be a painful prerequisite for the former.

In our Torah portion, Abraham is ultimately successful, not only in rescuing his nephew Lot from the forces of King Chedarlaomer and his allied forces.  He also in the process liberates the people of Sodom and Gomorrah who had been kidnapped by Chedarlaomer’s invading armies.

After these dramatic events of Genesis 14, the following chapter opens with God coming to Avram in a vision and telling him

אַל־תִּירָ֣א אַבְרָ֗ם

( “Al tira Avram”)

“Have no fear, Avram!” [4]

The sages of old wonder why God should need to comfort Avram this way.  And a classic midrash in Bereshit Rabba[5] responds that Avram was afraid lest he had killed any righteous individuals during his military activities to rescue his nephew and to free the captives who had been kidnapped by the forces of Chedarlaomer.

Israeli soldiers today worry about the same thing. 

Rabbi Kenneth Brander, writing this week from Israel this week, describes this in poignant fashion.  He writes:

Just last week, in the moments leading up to the onset of Shabbat, a group of combat soldiers came together to pray. Going one by one, each soldier was asked to share one prayer they were carrying with them in these trying days. Some quite reasonably asked for safety from harm through the ravages of war, and to be able to return home speedily and full in body and in spirit – a prayer we share with them in these difficult times. But the overwhelming majority of the soldiers, in this moment of honesty and vulnerability, shared that their greatest fear was that they may cause unnecessary harm or death to innocent civilians during the fighting.

Our soldiers, of mighty arms and loving hearts, joined with Avraham in the deep worry regarding the unavoidable collateral damage that comes with warfare, hoping at the very least to minimize damage done.

In the face of the Hamas-ISIS cult of death, our soldiers continue to value life.

As we continue to pray for the welfare of our armed forces as they take on the Hamas menace in the aftermath of the Simchat Torah massacre, we should be moved by their example. Like that of our father Avraham, our role as Jews guided by morality – in complete contrast to that of our enemy – is that we not lose sight of what is humanity. And even while we recognize that our goal must be complete victory, the safety of our soldiers and people – and nothing should stand in the way of that objective – we can still hold true to the tradition that innocent life has value.[6]

(That’s from a dvar torah published yesterday on the website of Ohr Torah Stone, which a network of modern Orthodox educational institutions for which Rabbi Brander is the Rosh Yeshivah or Dean.)

Sadly, we well know that the war against Hamas has already involved massive civilian casualties in Gaza and will continue to do so before it can be successfully concluded.

War is hell, but, as the Book of Ecclesiastes reminds us ---

   עֵ֥ת מִלְחָמָ֖ה        וְעֵ֥ת שָׁלֽוֹם׃

( “Eyt milchama ve’yet shalom.”)

 “There is a time for war and a time for peace.”[7]

May the time for peace come quickly and may the people of Israel be safe from terror, and the people of Gaza be free to live in peace once the tyranny and violent fanaticism of its current leadership is brought to an end.

Shabbat shalom

© Rabbi David Steinberg (October 2023/ Cheshvan 5784)

[1] Genesis 12:1

[2] Genesis 14: 14-16

[3] https://www.jpost.com/israel-news/article-768992

[4] Genesis 15:1

[5] Bereshit Rabbah 44:4 (sefaria.org)

[6] https://ots.org.il/avraham-the-warrior/

[7] Ecclesiastes 3:8

THE CHALLENGE OF LAWLESS VIOLENCE

Dvar Torah on Parashat Noach (Gen. 6:9 – 11:12)

Given at Temple Israel on Friday evening 10/20/23

In Psalm 29, which we sang a little while ago this evening as part of Kabbalat Shabbat, the psalmist caps off his ode to God’s power and might with the image of “Adonai lamabul yashav”/ “The Eternal sitting enthroned at the time of the great Flood.”[1]   This week, in accordance with the Torah reading cycle, Jews around the world are revisiting the story of the flood, as we’ll do tomorrow morning in our Torah service.       

What prompts God to get so incensed with humanity that God decides to unleash the destructive force of ha-mabul/ the Flood?  The Torah tells us that it’s because  “Vatimaley ha’aretz chamas” / “The earth was filled with chamas [חמס] ” [2].

It’s just a macabre coincidence that the word in that verse which is variously translated as violence, lawlessness or robbery happens to be a homonym for the name of the terrorist organization that controls the Gaza Strip.  (The Arabic word “Hamas” is an acronym for a three-word phrase meaning "Islamic Resistance Movement".)[3] 

But the definition of the identically sounding Biblical Hebrew word certainly fits the description of the terrorist organization that has been plaguing Israel and seeking to thwart any efforts for peace going back to its creation in the 1980s.  The massacres they committed two Saturdays ago are new in scope but not in intent.

I don’t recall exactly where I read it, but one online Jewish commentary that I read this week compared Noah’s ark to the “safe rooms” in which Israelis throughout the country have been forced to shelter, not just on October 7th but on frequent occasions in the days since then as well.

(Indeed, I remember when I was on a rabbinical study mission in Israel in the summer of 2014, the same dynamic was in play.  Hamas had started a war against Israel and I and my colleagues had to run to shelters many times during the ten days I was in the country.)

But getting back to that metaphor, just as the ark saved Noah and his family and the animals who were on board from the massive genocide all around them, so have the various safe rooms and shelters protected some Israelis from the efforts of Hamas and Islamic Jihad to murder them.  Other Israelis, as well as foreign visitors and residents in Israel, have not been so lucky.  That includes over 20 American citizens who were murdered by Hamas in the current fighting.[4]

And, of course, in Gaza, as Israel attempts to prevent Hamas from wreaking such havoc in the future, many innocent civilians have died as well.  As we know, the millions of dollars donated to Hamas in recent years have gone to the building up of weapons and terror tunnels, rather than civilian shelters or other expenditures that could benefit the general population.

The Torah says that Noah was a righteous man and above reproach IN HIS GENERATION and that he walked WITH God.

אִ֥ישׁ צַדִּ֛יק תָּמִ֥ים הָיָ֖ה בְּדֹֽרֹתָ֑יו אֶת־הָֽאֱלֹהִ֖ים הִֽתְהַלֶּךְ־נֹֽחַ

“Ish tzadik, tamim hayah bedorotav, et ha’elohim hithalech noach” [5]

But in the midrashic tradition there is an argument about whether this is just faint praise – that maybe Noah could be seen as righteous IN HIS GENERATION because it was such a violent and corrupt generation, whereas in any other time he would not have been seen as being so great.[6]

By contrast Torah teaches that Abraham was righteous (without any caveat about being righteous just in his generation)  -- and speaks of Abraham walking not WITH God (like Noah) but BEFORE GOD ---  as we learn in Gen 17:1 where Torah teaches that God said to Abraham (at that point still known as Abram) --

הִתְהַלֵּ֥ךְ לְפָנַ֖י וֶהְיֵ֥ה תָמִֽים

Hithalekh lefanay veheyey tamim.

(“Walk before me and be above reproach.”)  

Noah is the guy who doesn’t commit violence himself – but still doesn’t step OUT FRONT to argue with God not to destroy the world with a flood.

Abraham is the guy who doesn’t assault and degrade defenseless strangers as do the people of Sodom and Gomorrah but he DOES STEP OUT FRONT to argue with God – to argue against the status quo and plead for compassion on the world and for the God of justice to do justly.

In recent days, as Palestinian casualties in Gaza have grown to outnumber Israel casualties in this latest war, many voices have been raised urging an immediate ceasefire and, in effect, arguing for compassion as Abraham did before the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah but as Noah failed to do before the flood. 

The arguments are heartrending, but the comparison with the Torah’s contrasting of Noah and Abraham breaks down here.

It’s important to remember that there is a fundamental difference between Hamas intentionally murdering and kidnapping Israeli civilians ---versus Israel’s military campaigns against Hamas terrorists and their infrastructure. Israel’s military responses regrettably also result in civilian deaths despite systematic efforts on Israel’s part to minimize such results.

But this is not about revenge.

This is not even about meting out justice.

Rather, this is about an effort to do what is necessary to prevent Hamas from continuing to terrorize the population of Israel in the future. 

In the story of the Great Flood in Parashat Noach, when the waters finally recede and it’s safe again for the inhabitants of the ark to emerge from their Biblical “safe room shelter” God brings about the appearance of a rainbow.  The rainbow, says God, is a symbol of God’s resolve never to destroy the world again.  But, nevertheless, humanity still retains the power to wreak CHAMAS --- violence, havoc and destruction. 

Torah teaches that after the time of Noah, God won’t try again to kill off all terrestrial life in order to eliminate CHAMAS from the earth. Rather, it’s up to humanity to do so.

In contrast to some of the anti-Israel slogans being shouted in recent days by those who don’t understand that terrorist organization Hamas will never be amenable to peaceful coexistence with Israel --- our slogan should be

“Free Gaza – FROM HAMAS” 

When that task is accomplished, Israel and the world will be one step closer to realizing the promise of the rainbow and the quest for Tikkun Olam. 

Shabbat shalom

© Rabbi David Steinberg (October 2023/ Cheshvan 5784)

[1] Psalms 29:10

[2] Genesis 6:11

[3] To be clear, the Hebrew letter “chet” [ח] is commonly transliterated as “ch”.  The organization “Hamas”, though typically transliterated from Arabic starting with the letter “H” is pronounced identically to the Hebrew word for violent lawlessness in Genesis 6:11 [חמס].

[4] https://abcnews.go.com/US/americans-killed-israel-hamas-war/story?id=103829720

[5] Genesis 6:9

[6] Rashi on Genesis 6:9

בדרותיו. יֵשׁ מֵרַבּוֹתֵינוּ דּוֹרְשִׁים אוֹתוֹ לְשֶׁבַח, כָּל שֶׁכֵּן אִלּוּ הָיָה בְדוֹר צַדִּיקִים הָיָה צַדִּיק יוֹתֵר; וְיֵשׁ שֶׁדּוֹרְשִׁים אוֹתוֹ לִגְנַאי, לְפִי דוֹרוֹ הָיָה צַדִּיק וְאִלּוּ הָיָה בְדוֹרוֹ שֶׁל אַבְרָהָם לֹא הָיָה נֶחְשָׁב לִכְלוּם (סנה' ק"ח):