Rabbi's Blog

Devarim

Triennial: 2:31-3:22 // Ishaiahu 1:1-27 // Shabbat Hazon

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There is a special name for this Shabbat, which is Shabbat Hazon, the Shabbat of the vision. The vision is the vision of our haftarah, the first vision of the book of Isaiah, of the destruction of Jerusalem, remembered on the 9^th of Av, when we fast and commemorate the destruction of the temple both times and a few other calamities that befell our people, such as the First Crusade, the expulsions from England, France, and Spain, the beginning of WWI, the beginning of the deportation of the Warsaw ghetto, and the AMIA bombing in Buenos Aires – all of those happened on or around the 9^th of Av.

Tomorrow night we will read the Book of Lamentations, or Megillat Eicha. That reading only happens at night, differently of what we do in Purim, when we read the Megillah of Esther both at night and in the morning.

Now the Book of Lamentations begins with the word Eicha, which is translated as “how”. The book really opens with a rhetorical question: How is it that the city, full of people, sits alone and abandoned? That same word, Eicha, appears in our reading of Devarim, at the beginning of the second alyiah in the full reading. There, Moshe asks “Eicha”, How can I bear alone your bickering, and the burden of you?” That same question, Eicha, will appear in our haftarah: Isaiah asks – Eicha – how has she become unfaithful, the city that once was filled with justice?

It is interesting to notice that our portion of Devarim, always read before the 9^th of Av, always accompanied by the words of Isaiah, has only two mitzvot – to appoint judges who actually know the law, and not showing partiality in judgment.

Now, among the causes of why Jerusalem was destroyed the rabbis bring the idea that judgment in Jerusalem was deprived of compassion. In Baba Metzia 30b one of the many causes of destruction is that judgment was done sticking to the letter of the law – and never seeing the full picture. So the centrality of proper judgment, a judgment that must take in consideration the spirit of the law, cannot be overstated. Another of the causes is baseless hatred – the archetype of that idea is the famous story of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza.

Rabbi Alan Lew, z”l, brings forth a great idea. He ties the journey of the High Holidays to the 9^th of Av. There are seven weeks between the 9^th of Av and Rosh Hashanah. On RH we celebrate the birth of the world and the renewal of all things. Now for renewal to happen, the old must be torn down – and that is symbolized, in our personal journey, by the 9^th of Av. So the shaking of the old structures, their crumbling, the letting go of whatever is not useful or good anymore begins happening now. This is the beginning of the journey, that will close in Sukkot when we create new structures – symbolized by the sukkah. On Simchat Torah, in 10 weeks from now, we will read Genesis again, and God is going to ask the First Human an essential question: Ayeka, where are you?

The Hebrew letters of the word Ayeka are the same of Eicha. The tradition is inviting us, beckoning us, to embrace the crumbling of the structures, to mourn those structures and to renew ourselves. The guiding principles of that renewal are letting go of hatred and embracing compassion. It is then, at the end of our journey, that we will be able to find an answer to this question – where are you, Ayeka, that begins today, with the question Eicha, how.

How did we get here? What are the ego traps that brought us here? What are the causes of the crumbling of the old structures, and why don’t they serve their purposes anymore? It is only with the radical embracing of what is that we can move forward and create what can be.

May this Shabbat mark the real beginning of our journey towards renewal, justice and compassion. Shabbat Shalom.

Behaalotcha

Behaalotcha opens with Aaron being commanded to raise light in the lamps of the menorah, and the tribe of Levi is initiated into the service in the Sanctuary.

A “Second Passover” is instituted in response to the petition “Why should we be deprived?” by a group of Jews who were unable to bring the Passover offering in its appointed time because they were ritually impure. God instructs Moses on the procedures for Israel’s journeys and encampments in the desert, and the people journey in formation from Mount Sinai, where they had been camped for nearly a year.

The people are dissatisfied with their “bread from heaven” (the manna), and demand that Moses supply them with meat. Moses appoints 70 elders, to whom he imparts of his spirit, to assist him in the burden of governing the people. Miriam speaks negatively of Moses, and is punished with leprosy; Moses prays for her healing, and the entire community waits seven days for her recovery.

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The second verse of our portion is “Speak to Aharon and say to him: When you raise updraw up: Others, “kindle.” the lights,
toward the fronttoward the front: More specifically, toward the area in front. of the menora let the seven lights give light.”

The word for light, and the word for candle, in Hebrew, is the same NER. We are familiar with this word from the blessing of shabbes candles and the blessings for chanukah – lehadlik NER.

The menora in the Mishkan, and later in the Temple, did not have a conventional candle like we have today, but oil and wick. The conventional candle is parafin or wax and a wick. Any light, to be considered a NER, is really a wick and a source of fuel.

Now the word NER gets used in interesting ways in the Tanach. “Ki ner mitzvah and Torah ohr”: The mitzvah is a candle or a lamp; and Torah is light; it says in Proverbs. And also “Ner Ad-nai nishmat adam”: The lamp of Ad-nai is a person’s soul.

A human being is comprised of a body and at least three levels in their soul, according to our tradition: Nefesh, Ruach and Neshamah. Ruach is a word usually translated as spirit, Nefesh and Neshamah in English are usually translated in the same word, soul. But for the Hebrew those are two different aspects. Nefesh is the living being, it is in a sense something that we share with all living things – some say it is your passions and strong emotions. The part called Neshamah is the more specific “you”: you as your higher self, you as the specific dream that God has for this world, you at your best and most actualized potential. Now, Nefesh and Ruach, as words, begin with nun and reish, and as an acronym they form the word NER. So a human being is a candle, say our sages.

Now an interesting question is: when is a candle really a candle? Is it at its existence, when you join a source of fuel with a wick, or is it when it is lit? How you answer that question is how you see human beings.

A person is a person – all of us are endowed with a basic dignity. That is the wick and the wax. But a person can only become what they are supposed to become in this world if their neshamah, their essence is lit. The same way, a regular candle exists while it is not lit, but its purpose is to be be lit eventually, and to drive away darkness.

Another favorite sentence with the image of the candle is “Lo yichbe balayla nerah” – her lamp does not go out at night. Some of us sing that on Friday night at home. And what is that lamp? That is the light we get from Torah, that even in difficult and tragic moments in our lives, it does not go out.

So once a soul is lit with Torah, then that soul can find its way in this world, and fufill the reason for which that soul is in this world. The world sometimes seems incredibly dark – but the ignited soul shines its presence and illuminates the world.

The day you were born is the day God decided the world could not continue existing without you in it – because God has an incredible faith in you, and in each of us, that we will bring light and warmth to God’s creation.

May it be so, this week and every week.

Shabbat Shalom.

We are embarking, for this and the next week, on what is called “the Shechinah unit”. That spans this week’s portion, Terumah, and the next, Tetzaveh. Both of those portions have the first description of the Mishkan, the Tabernacle, and the unit begins and ends with “they will make Me a mishkan, and I will dwell among them.” So this exercise of constructing the Mishkan is to have God’s presence, the Shechinah, being felt among the Jews. And please notice that the text does not say that God will dwell in the Mishkan, but rather that God will dwell among the people of Israel.

Terumah means offering, and our portion opens with vayikechu li terumah – and they will take for Me an offering. Now, the word vayikechu, they will take, has a root that connects with something we sing the end of the Torah service: Ki lekach tov natati lachem, torati al ta-azovu. This is just before “etz chayim hi”. Lekach, connected to vayikechu, means portion. I gave you a good portion, the text says, do not abandon My Torah.

That is an important connection for most of the hasidic rebbes. Because, of course, how do we, modern Jews, talk about the Mishkan, the Tabernacle? How do we make these many verses something significant? And this connection is not a connection only made by the hasidic masters, but some midrashim will make that connection as well. There is something that the writers of the midrash and the hasidic rebbes both share, and we share with them, which is a Judaism without a Temple. If the Tabernacle and later the Temple were a way of bringing down God’s Shechinah into the world, how do we do it now, without a physical space?

We do that through studying Torah, the lekach tov, the good portion. And the Sefat Emet, whose real name is Yehudah Aryeh Leib Alter, the rebbe of Gur, will begin by reminding us that lekach also means acquisition. And he says: look how different Torah is from other acquisitions. When we exchange something, and I produce beans and you cloth, I give you beans and you give me cloth, we exchange and both win and lose. We get what we want, but we lose what we produced. Torah is different. When I know a piece of Torah, and you know a piece, and we share, we both continue with what we have, and we both gain.

And here lies another fundamental way of looking to the world and to people: every one of us has a specific Torah to teach and to learn in this world. We are not an accident. Not a single one of us is. Just as we are individuals, so is our specific Torah. And yet, says the Sefat Emet, Torah is what joins all of the Jewish people together. When I learn and when I teach, and when  you teach and when you learn, we become one people. That is how we find peace, according to the Sefat Emet. Peace is actively learning with one another, with an open heart, looking at one another’s words, thoughts and actions and learning Torah through them. Peace, shalom, is also seen as one of God’s names.

You know that God in the Jewish tradition has many names. One of them is peace. And peace, for the Sefat Emet, is not attained if you are in your corner, and I am in my corner, and we know we disagree and we are both silent. That is something more like a stalemate, or a truce, but it is not peace. Peace – and God’s presence – can only come if we join together to learn. If we are open to be challenged and changed by that encounter. It is when we see each encounter not as a zero-sum game, not as a win-lose, but as a win-win. We both are challenged and changed and grow.

This process of learning Torah, with both a capital and a lowercase letter, is what brings us together as a people. That is the bringing of God’s presence in the world. It is when we internalize both that we are valued, that we have our Torah, and that others have value, and so does their Torah. And we go one step further, which is learning from one another. There are, the Sefat Emet reminds us, seventy faces of the Torah. And if we read closely the list of the people that came to Egypt, we read that they were shiv’im nefesh, usually translated as “seventy souls”, but that translation washes over the obvious Hebrew problem: the text actually says “soul”, in the singular. We are supposed to be, in our individuality, still a people together, still one soul. We only become a people when we embrace all the faces of Torah.

Ki lekach tov natati lachem – I gave you all a good portion. Take an offering for Me – each person, according to their ability, desire, and Torah that they came to learn and teach in this world. That is how we bring down the Shechinah, God’s presence, a task that is now both simpler and more complex in a world without a Temple. Shabbat Shalom.

Yitro is one of the three portions named after a non-Jew – the other two being Noach and Balak. Yitro, differently from the other two, even according to the Torah text, joins the Jewish people. This portion is famous because it is the one where the Ten Sayings appear, the Aseret hadibrot.

This is the first thing that needs to be clear to us: The Jewish tradition never calls these the Ten Commandments. Never. The Torah text calls them Aseret hadevarim, variouosly translated as “the ten sayings”, “the ten utterances” or “the ten statements”. They are different from mitzvot. Most mitzvot will have a punishment attached to them, and many of the ones we read in the Torah are conditional laws, the structure being “when this happens… then”, often called “case law”. We will see a lot of those in next week’s portion.

The Aseret hadibrot are unconditional laws, a basic frame of reference, do this or don’t do this, the value of the law being self-evident, particularly in the negative ones. This style of law, unconditional, is found only in the Torah and not in any of the other law codes of the Ancient Near East. That is why they are called Aseret hadibrot, the ten sayings.

That is the basic background. However, it is striking to notice that not just these sayings are given at Sinai, but the whole thing is accompanied by an spectacle. There’s thunder, lightning, shofar blasts – it is so overwhelming that the people go back and stand away.

Kol shofar – translated as the blare of the horn – can also be translated as the voice of the shofar. And voice is really central to this moment. Later, in Deuteronomy, Moshe will remind the people: you never saw anything, you just heard a voice. God spoke to all of you from the fire, you just heard the voice.

And this brings Menachem Mendel of Vitebsk, in the 18^th century, to make an interesting point. Our tradition (Pirkei Avot 6:2) has a beautiful vision, which is that every day a bat kol, a heavenly voice, comes out from Mount Sinai exhorting all humans to study Torah. When we study, we use our voice, we literally bring down Torah to the world. Menachem Mendel of Vitebsk then reminds us that there is a principle which is “Torah, the Holy One of Blessing, and Israel are one”. There is this idea that we are completely intertwined with Torah and the Holy One, inseparable. And that complete identity is expressed in the idea that each of us has a letter that represents the root of our souls. And so each letter in the Torah represents one Jewish person. When we study Torah, using our voice, we are connecting to that voice in Sinai. And the revelation of Sinai is the contact of the person with their soul-root, which is quite marvelous.

And yet, when we read is text, we can’t help but seeing the fear of the people, who fall back. A midrash says that they fall back at the first letter of the Ten Sayings, which, surprisingly, is Alef, from the word Anochi, I. And why they fall back? Well, according to the Me’or Eynayim (Menachem Nachum of Chernobyl (1730-1797), who also wrote in the 18^th century, it is because no one can stay at this high level of consciousness at all times. It is humanly impossible: the feeling of the presence of God ebbs and flows, this connection with the life-force, the root, is felt in waves.

One of the reasons, says the Me’or Eynayim, is that we need to ride the wave, so as to always reach higher next time. In everything, he says, there has to be Absence before Presence being felt. SO to reach a higher level, we first need to experience absence. The absence, of course, is felt but not real – since all the world is filled with God’s glory, kol haaretz maleh kevodo, as we say in the Kedushah.

But there is also another reason, says the Me’or Eynayim – we fall down so we can bring others up with us. When we fall from our level, we have the ability to reach others who are behind in their spiritual development, and so by riding the wave we have the ability to find them and bring them to ride the wave with us, and reach a higher level, previously inexperienced by them.

But all that can only be accomplished if we are aware that we are touching, and feeding, our soul-root, our letter in the Torah, our internal connection with the Transcendent, every time we study Torah. By using our voice we can connect and reconnect with the Voice that spoke the Ten Sayings, the Sound that created the world, the Voice, the Sound, that brought us, specifically, to existence.

May this be a week in which we reach higher and higher levels, and bring others with us, even as we experience the ebb and flow of the Divine Voice within. Shabbat Shalom.

Vaera –

Our portion begins with God revealing that God’s name has changed between the patriarchs and now. The “four expressions of redemption,” are used for the promise of taking the Jews out of Egypt and into the land. The Jews won’t listen, due to smallness of spirit and difficult work, kotzer ruach veavodah kashah.

Moses and Aaron repeatedly come before Pharaoh to demand in the name of G‑d, “Let My people go, so that they may serve Me in the wilderness.” Pharaoh repeatedly refuses. Aaron’s staff turns into a snake and swallows the staffs of the Egyptian sorcerers. The ten plagues begin.

The waters of the Nile turn to blood; swarms of frogs overrun the land; lice infest all men and beasts. Hordes of wild animals invade the cities; a pestilence kills the domestic animals; painful boils afflict the Egyptians, and a devastating hail. This is where the portion stops.

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~ What is the purpose of the plagues, in your opinion? If God could take the Jews out of Egypt just like that, why didn’t God do so? Can you find in our text explanations for the purpose of the plagues?

~ Is there a progression on the Egyptians understanding of the plagues? Is there a progression on the Jews’ understanding of the plagues? Is there a progression on Pharaoh’s?

The ten plagues lasted a year, according to Rabbi Akiva. This is learned through a midrash on the last portion we read. According to Ex. 5:12 the plagues began only after the Egyptians forced the Israelite slaves to search for their own straw. Since straw is found in the month of Iyyar, May, and the Israelites left Egypt in Nissan, April, the conclusion can be drawn that the plagues lasted one year.

A year is a long time for plagues. If you just go with the text of the Torah, you will find that all of it happened in two weeks – the first, blood, lasts seven days, the other last one day, a total of 14 days of plagues. But would 14 days be enough to make the internal changes in the Jews, or in the Egyptians themselves, or in Pharaoh?

The plagues have an interesting structure:

Blood, wild animals and hail are all introduced with a WARNING administered in the MORNING, explaining a PURPOSE. Frogs, pestilence and locusts only have a WARNING and we do not read anything bout the time of the warning, and lice, boils and darkness all arrive WITHOUT WARNING. When you look at this structure alone, you see that at every three plagues you have a warning in the morning with an explanation. The explanations will deepen as the plagues happen:

Blood – “by this you shall know that I am Ad-nai”

Wild animals – “…that you might know that I am Ad-nai in the midst of the land.”

Hail – “that you will know that there is none like Me in all the land.”

It is because of this structure that the traditional haggadot will bring the separation of the ten plagues into three groups:

“Rabbi Yehuda was accustomed to giving [the plagues] mnemonics: Detsakh [the Hebrew initials of the first three plagues, blood, frogs, lice], Adash [wild animals, pestilence and boils], Beachav [hail, locusts, darkness, firstborn].”

Another point I’d like to make is the progression among the Egyptians. First, the magicians themselves say to Pharaoh – this is the finger of God – in the plague of lice. So at the end of the first grouping, the magicians can’t reproduce lice, and have to admit their lack of power. At the plague of boils even the magicians can’t appear near Pharaoh – their lack of power is such that they can’t defend themselves.

And this progression is also found among the Jews. There is no distinction between the Jews and the Egyptians in the first three plagues. Look at the text carefully, and you will see that the distinction only happens on the fourth plague – wild animals. Ibn Ezra is the one that brings this unpopular opinion. The force unleashed in the first three is less precise than the rest, but the ability to control power also has to do with space and time. So as the plagues progress, the distinctions become sharper and more pronounced. The first series of plagues strikes Egypt and Israel without impunity, while the second and third series strike only Egypt. The timing begins to be more precise as well, the first three plagues do not come by appointment, but Pharaoh is told that wild beasts will arrive ‘tomorrow’, that pestilence will occur at a ‘fixed time tomorrow’, and that hail will begin to fall at ‘this very time tomorrow.’

Once you see this pattern, that you can understand why in the plague of hail, there is some break among the Egyptians in the belief in Pharaoh’s power, since we read that “Those among Pharaoh’s courtiers who feared the Ad-nai’s word brought their slaves and livestock indoors to safety.”

Whether our fourth plague is wild beasts or swarms of insects, Goshen – and the Jews – are spared. That is when both Jews and Egyptians get a notice that this is about the Israelite slaves. The same happens in the fifth plague, pestilence, as we read – and of course the Egyptians had to notice, the lack of cattle dying is going to be obvious. Boils, which made a distinction between the two peoples, brought that point even further. So of course you had to be living under a rock not to bring your own slaves and what’s left of your livestock in. But I want us to notice that even at this point we do not read the Egyptians telling Pharaoh to let the people go. And whereas God and Moshe say that, we do not hear a peep from the Israelites themselves either.

It really looks like everyone is just looking out for themselves. But the idea of a collective action, a protest against Pharaoh’s mishandling of the situation is not remotely in anyone’s mind.

Our portion ends with Pharaoh almost relenting, but not really. And the question again is why. Also, if freedom is just the reason for the plagues, why not scoop up the Jews and land them on Mount Sinai?

And one possible answer I want us to entertain today is the creation of a collective identity. One that goes beyond the self. The ability to care for what happens with other segments of society, or of a group. Pharaoh’s permission would not make the Israelites truly free, and truly a people. Same with simply plopping them down at Mount Sinai. The process is important if changes will last. And this ability to care for beyond yourself is truly growth, and truly what brings about meaning in our lives.

I don’t think I need to remind people here who Victor Frankl is. In his “Man in Search of Meaning” he states that his own experience of surviving Auschwitz had to do with his focus on the other, on other inmates, on other realities, on the future he wanted to build after this was over.

Frankl also concludes that there are only two races of people, decent and indecent. No society is free of either of them, and so he tells us of “decent” Nazi guards and “indecent” prisoners, most notably the kapo who would torture and abuse their fellow prisoners for personal gain – we can call this the extreme of the individualistic person. That is the real plague of nowadays.

And so the process of becoming a decent person passes through the stage of being solely worried about oneself, and one’s possessions, as we see in the plague of hail. And we know that it will take a long time and a long process to take the Egypt out of the Jew, and to make us a nation that worries not only about our individuality, but about others – in our group and in other groups – as well. And the change is never complete, we are always struggling between our selfishness and our altruism, and so we must remember coming out of Egypt every day.

Kamtza, bar Kamtza and causes of destruction

 Yoma 9b:8

~ Baseless or senseless hatred is one of the causes of destruction according to the rabbis.

~ Kamtza means “locust”. Why do you think the main character gets this name?

~ At each point in the story, who could have avoided the destruction? How?

Other causes of destruction

1. Too much judgment and not enough justice

2. Shabbat, Shema and other lacks: education, respect, shame, rebuke

But wait, there’s more! Lack of compromise

Shabbat Devarim ~ Shabbat Hazon

Devarim begins a long day for Moshe – it is his last day. He decides to spend it talking to the people in three different speeches, or so it seems.

Moshe opens with reviewing the events and telling the people to keep the Torah and observe its commandments. He recalls the appointment of judges, the journey through Sinai, the sending of the spies and the subsequent debacle. “God was also also against me,” says Moshe, “because of you and said: You, too, shall not go in there.”

Our triennial picks there, reviewing the kingdoms which Israel is not supposed to attack, just pass through in their way to the promised land. It also mentions the kings Sichon and Og, who did not let the people pass, began a war and lost that war. Their lands are then settled by the tribes of Reuben and Gad and part of the tribe of Manasseh.

~ Our triennial focuses on the review of the the kingdoms which Israel is not supposed to attack and the victories with Sichon and Og.

~ Why is it important for Moshe to review the events before having the people go into the land?

~ Why remind these people of the peoples they were not supposed to engage in battle while walking towards the Promised Land?

~ Why do you think this portion is always read before Tisha Be Av?

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You can see all sources by clicking here: Source sheet for Tisha BeAv.

In the entire reading of Devarim, two words keep showing up – the translation does not give them the credit they need. “To turn” and “to go.”

This portion is always read before the 9^th of Av.

Devarim has Moshe facing the Israelites precisely back on the same moment that led to the 40 years of wandering. Will now the people repeat the mistake of the past? Or will they actually do teshuvah, and in this last day of Moshe’s life, embrace the going up to the land?

The review is the beginning of the process of teshuvah of the people, at that moment – a process that Moshe will not see. He can only see the beginnings of it – the conquering of the lands of Sichon and Og, something so fabulous that we get them mentioned in the psalm we sing, Ps 136. Moshe sees the glimmers, and also knows the danger – we can’t call the process real until it is actually happening. Thinking that the land outside is as good as the land inside is a danger.

As is thinking that we do not have to do teshuvah, collectively or individually.

Tisha be Av marks the beginning of our process of teshuvah. The rabbis talk about many causes for the destruction of the Temple – the most famous is the story of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza, that illustrates sinat chinam. [see Eicha Rabbah 4:3]

Sinat Chinam is an interesting phrase. It is commonly translated as baseless hatred or wanton hatred. But Chinam can mean free. Sinat chinam might be also translated as free-for-all hatred, and this certainly is possible given what the rabbis tell was one of the problems during the siege: the lack of compromise. [Gittin 56a-b]

But Sinat chinam can also mean the impression that hatred has no cost, meaning, it’s free. Which I wish I could say we don’t have nowadays, but I would be lying.

But the rabbis will have a laundry list of reasons why the temple was destroyed – people didn’t say the Shema, they didn’t let kids study, they had no respect for each other, there was no rebuke, people didn’t observe shabbat, people did not try to compromise, there was too much judgment and not enough justice.

Now – why would the rabbis do that? It is really not clear that the rabbis had anything to do with the temple service, despite what Bar Kamtza claims. And if you ask any historian, they will say – nothing of the sort mattered. Rome was invincible, they wanted, they took, there was no stopping their war machine.

But that, for the rabbis, does not matter – what matters is looking inward at the time of the breaking of structures, and finding rebuilding, rebirth, from there. We could even say that if the temple wasn’t destroyed, Judaism would not be what it is today. It is only because of Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai that we have an spiritual center in Torah. And that means that in a day like Tisha BeAv we check in with ourselves about those destructive forces. As a community, so the community can continue. As a people, so the people can go on to the next generation. We have to embrace the forces of renewal of structures, because otherwise they crumble – and then our renewal is stunted by trauma, the work becomes that much bigger.

We begin now, seven weeks before RH/YK to prepare for that moment. We begin collectively so as to refine ourselves individually seven weeks from now. That is why Devarim has so many turn and go. We need to do teshuvah and begin walking – now.

May we all have a meaningful fast tomorrow.

Shabbat shalom.

Pinchas: Death and taxes

~ Look closely at what God tells Moshe regarding Moshe’s death. What is it doing here, just after the apportioning of the land?

~ Can you find a connection between this scene and the story of the daughters of Tzelofchad?

~ This is the second time that Moshe calls God by a specific description – source of the breath of all flesh. When was the other time? How do you personally relate to this description?

It is with immense gratitude that I am experiencing this celebration – a new ritual that raises the awareness of our collective partnership. You might not know, but this is a first for me, and I am incredibly grateful for this moment.

I am indebted first to the members of the committee for making this happen, and I want to take a moment to thank Eileen, Linda, Michelle and Sandra. You’re amazing.

Also, all the leadership – everyone that serve in the board from last year, everyone who has taken up a position on the board this year. I have been in many board meetings throughout my life, and this is by far the best. A board that has clear its function, and that values and respects the work of its committees is a board with a great sense of ethics. The fact that most meetings last one hour is a clear proof that Adath Israel has a great institutional culture, and I feel blessed by this, too.

Jonathan Shapiro was the president of my first year at Adath Israel; and Carly Hoss will be the president of what we can call my second first year at Adath Israel.

Jonathan has been a great leader – and this past year was a difficult one to say the least, with a few curveballs added to the mix. So thanks go to Jonathan for your unwavering comitment to Adath Israel, for your vision of renewing the school grounds and for seizing the disaster of the Nester center and transforming it into a possibility of a youth center.

Carly, I am sure you will be a fantastic president. You are bringing new energy, a strong vision and a rich personality to Adath Israel. You understand that it is not just about maintaing what we have, but about growing and transforming our community.

I’d love to always call you by your full title “Jewish Rockstar of Radical Action and Joy, Modern Day Queen President Carly Hoss” but that is a mouthful, so you will have to accept just President. But I want to give you this tshirt, that says in Hebrew “zeh madam president bishvilchah” which means “it is madam president to you”. Because being president is a second job, it is demanding as it is fulfilling. Jonathan and every president knows this – you get as much meaning and fulfillment as you give into the job.

And let’s not forget Joanna who is the unsung hero of our community, nor Julio, who is the force behind our building being clean and ready for prime time. Thank you both for always being here.

Our relationship has begun in a difficult year, the year of COVID. As we collectively struggled to understand and accept the challenges this brought, and how to move forward, and how to mute and unmute, how to participate and sing alone but together, I have been constantly reminded of a saying in Pirkei Avot – if you keep the tradition going in difficult times, ultimately you will keep it going in better times. But if you don’t keep it going in difficult times, you will eventually abandon it in better times.

We, collectively, kept the tradition going. To those who came to services via Zoom, and learned together by trial and error how to make this work; thank you – you know who you are, and I don’t want to make a list and then forget names. But a special shout out to David Kaye and Richard Kamins, who are as supportive ritual chairs as a new rabbi can ask.

I have a favor to ask you at this point, this very moment: close your eyes for a moment, and give yourself ten seconds to see the Jewish community of your dreams. Your ideal Jewish community. What does it look like? Besides services and classes, what else does it bring? How enriched are you by your community, at the end of a year? How friendly is it? How embracing of diversity is it? How deeply comitted to Torah is it? How joyful? How meaningful?

And this should be a reminder that a community is what you personally make it to be. How engaged you are in your community is how fabulously close to that dream your community becomes. How much you dedicate yourself is how much you fall in love with your community. Our community is born anew every day, just like the world.

A Jewish community is a place where Jews are made, where Jews become ever more concious of our heritage and our inheritance, where we find support, meaning and guidance to deal with the inevitable difficulties of life. A rabbi is the facilitator for that – but a rabbi and their family are not someone who lives Judaism in your stead. Only you, personally, can live a meaningful Jewish life.

As members of our community, we need to do outreach – to live full Jewish lives, with depth, joy and pride; embracing our covenant, enabling others to join our covenant and opening and sustaining inclusive spaces for those who have made the decision to walk with us. To live deeply and fully both the ideals of tikkun olam, fixing the world; tikkun atzmi, fixing ourselves and kiddush Hashem, bringing light and holiness to this world by revealing the presence of God in everyone of our actions.

And as members of our community, we also need to do inreach – to strengthen our relationships within, to provide care, love and support to each other in this journey we call life, to be of service to others. This is particularly important given the fact that our community’s inreach forces were brought to a halt with COVID. Zoom meetings are the best solution for COVID times, but they are a very inadequate substitute to creating new relationships.

To those who joined the board this year, and to those who have served and serve in many capacities, as volunteers for all sorts of incredible activities – you are making the community of your dreams.

Adath Israel has 18 different committees, so a particular shout out goes to the Education and the Advertising committees, because they are engaged deeply with the future and sustainability of our Adath Israel; and another shout out goes to the cemetery, the hevra kadisha and the museum, because they are deeply engaged in Adath Israel’s past.

But what about our present, this bridge between the two? I can only tell you: it is what we make it to be. The bridge will become as wide and inclusive as we make it. The 13 other committees plus the daily minyan, the Shabbat crowd, the book club, the veterans group, the mahjongg group, the soon to exist movie club, the people who come for classes – we are the present of the community. There is no future without a strong present. And that present is ourselves, collectively, engaged, in love with the ideal community until we make it ours.

So let’s walk together, making this bridge wider and larger, giving to each other a Judaism that is deeper and richer, full of meaning.

Thank you.