By Hazzan Jenna Greenberg.
In Parashat Vayeshev, one of the main characters is Yehudah, whose name is connected to the Hebrew root YUD-DALET-HEH, meaning “to give thanks.” Biblical names almost always have additional meaning beyond just being a name. And we know from last week’s parasha that this was the meaning of Yehudah’s name when his mother gave thanks to God at his birth.
While we are known by many names, B’nai Yisrael, Ivrim, the Hebrew word for Jews is Yehudim, from this same Hebrew root. We are the people who give thanks, we show our gratitude to God through so many of our traditional prayers, and even in our spontaneous prayers as well. We thank God daily for many things, and in particular, for the everyday miracles in our lives: that we wake up each morning, that our bodies work, that we are Jews, among a much longer list.
We are in the season of miracles, as the 25th of Kislev is approaching quickly, the first night of Chanukah. Among the many themes of this Festival of Lights is miracles: the miracle of yet another famous Yehuda and his Maccabee army being small and mighty, yet still victorious nevertheless over their enemies; and the miracle of a little bit of oil that lasted much longer than anyone would have ever expected.
How appropriate then that during Chanukah, we insert the special prayer Al haNissim (on these miracles) into the Birkat Hoda’ah (from the same Hebrew root above), the blessing of gratitude that we say as the third to last blessing of every Amida. Gratitude and miracles are intertwined. They go together like dreidels and gelt, like latkes and sufganiot! But truly, to celebrate both the everyday miracles in our present lives and the grand miracles of our ancestors requires much gratitude and appreciation.
May we always show our gratitude for the miracles in our lives, not only on Chanukah, but every day of the year.
Shabbat Shalom and an early Chag Urim Sameach!!
By Hazzan Sandler.
In Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, Juliet uses the phrase to argue that Romeo’s last name, Montague, is an irrelevant label for him as an individual. She famously says, “That which we call a rose / By any other name would smell as sweet,” to make the point that the name itself has no intrinsic meaning compared to the actual quality of the thing it names. And in a way she’s right – a rose would be a rose even if I called it a chrysanthemum. But the Jewish tradition sees names as so much more.
In the Garden of Eden, Adam names all the animals. He attempts to understand their essence and name them accordingly, all while realizing that none of these creatures are a fitting mate for him. The commentators note that giving something a name is a way we exercise dominion or power of that which we are naming. And though names are powerful, they can be so much more.
Throughout the Tanakh, names give us insight about the characters. Esther comes from the Hebrew meaning hidden, as she hides her Jewish identity from the king. Abram means father of Aram, but his name is changed to Abraham, meaning the father of multitudes of nations, which indeed is true. The name Yehudah (Judah) means ‘thanks’ and a core aspect of being Jewish (Yehudim) is to be grateful to God for all the blessings in our lives.
In this week’s parasha Vayishlach, Jacob is alone, afraid of how his reunion with Esau will go after all that happened in their childhood. And in the night he gets into an altercation with an angel of God. The story goes:
“When [The Angel] saw that he had not prevailed against [Jacob], he wrenched Jacob’s hip at its socket, so that the socket of his hip was strained as he wrestled with him. Then [The Angel] said, ‘Let me go, for dawn is breaking.’ But [Jacob] answered, ‘I will not let you go, unless you bless me.’ Said the [Angel], ‘What is your name?’
He replied, ‘Jacob.’ The Angel said, ‘Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with beings divine and human, and have prevailed.’ Jacob asked, ‘Pray tell me your name.’ But he said, ‘You must not ask my name!’ And he took leave of him there.”
From this we learn that names are also a kind of blessing. Indeed at baby naming ceremonies, we are reminded that our name is the first blessing we receive in life. Newborns are often named for loved ones who are no longer living with the hope that their best qualities will live on in the child as they grow. Throughout our lives we take on many names. Our given names express the hopes of our parents. Our surnames connect us to family. We might take on nicknames from friends or pet names from partners. There are titles we earn through training/degree programs – like Doctor, Professor, Rabbi or Hazzan. And there are titles we earn through our relationships like Mom, Dad, Bubbe, Grandpa, Sibling, Best Friend and so on.
In my own life, I was called Jacob throughout my childhood, Milk at Camp Ramah, Jake in college, and Hazzan Sandler (among other fun nicknames) here at Beth El. I often joke that I come from a long lineage of “Jacobs” with other names. What names do you have? Which did you earn? Which were given? And in a more idiomatic sense, what sort of name have you made for yourself? As it says in Kohelet 7:1, “Shem tov miShemen tov– A good name is better than good oil.” So what’s in a name? Perhaps more than just an assortment of sounds/letters that help someone get your attention in a crowd. Perhaps a name is a blessing. Perhaps your name helps to tell your story.
By Rabbi Alex Freedman.
By Hazzan Jenna Greenberg.
Last Shabbat we announced the upcoming month of Kislev, which begins tonight with our monthly gift of Rosh Chodesh. In other words, we are officially in the “Chanukah Zone!” As we countdown to our Festival of Lights, let us each take a moment to consider the meaning of this holiday’s name. The word Chanukah means dedication, and in reference to the holiday, we recall the re-dedication of the Temple after its destruction.
We also see this word in our daily morning liturgy, as we recite Psalm 30 every morning. It begins with the words Mizmor shir Chanukat ha bayit l’David, A Psalm, A song for the dedication of the house, for David. Added to the liturgy in the 17th century under the influence of Lurianic mysticism, it mentions the name of God ten times. Because of this repetition, there seems to be a theme of dedication not only to the Temple, the “house,” but to God as well.
In this sense, Chanukah, as it appears in this Psalm, as a holiday, and as a core Jewish value, reminds us to consistently dedicate ourselves to our holy spaces and ultimately to God. Its repetition in Psalm 30 reminds us not to forget this theme, as we recite these words each morning, every day of the year. Chanukah is the only holiday which spans two Hebrew months, as it begins at the end of Kislev, and continues through the first days of Tevet. This reminds us that dedication of ourselves to God and the wider community is an eternal, timeless gift.
As we enter the month of Kislev this evening, let this be a reminder, during our countdown to the holiday, to dedicate ourselves to setting new goals for ourselves, to deepening our relationships with our fellow Jews, and through these actions, to recognizing God’s presence in our lives.
To connect our more modern theme of giving gifts on this festival, let us consider the gift of re-dedicating our relationships to ourselves, our community, and to the Divine.
Chodesh Tov!
By Hazzan Jacob Sandler.
In the wake of Sarah’s passing, the generations begin to turn. Abraham sets out to find Isaac a wife, tasking his servant Eliezer to find someone from his extended family. The story may be familiar, but I find each year that I’m so taken by Rebecca’s first impression. When asked to help get water from the well, she goes above and beyond to give water to Eliezer’s camels! This in itself is an impressive act of kindness, reflecting a shared sense of values between her and her soon-to-be father-in-law who continues to stand as a model of Chesed – lovingkindness. What makes it more spiritually profound is that Eliezer had scarcely finished praying to Hashem that such a woman would appear and make that exact offer. Coincidence? Narrative device? Miracle? Who’s to say?
When Laban, Rebecca’s brother (and future father-in-law of Jacob), gets looped into the budding shidduch (matchmaking), I always got the impression that he switched from overprotective and suspicious to performatively welcoming. Maybe I just don’t trust him since he did trick Jacob years later with the classic switcheroo of Leah for Rachel. Nevertheless, the future in-laws welcome Eliezer and give him 5-start treatment. When he is eager to return Abraham with Rebecca, the family is suddenly hesitant to let her go. Eliezer insists they not delay him, as Hashem has already made the errand successful, and ultimately Rebecca is given the final choice in the matter. Some 4000 years ago, that’s incredibly progressive and it brings me such joy to see a woman empowered in our earliest family history.
Rabbi Amy Kalmanofsky often teaches about Rebecca as the primary actor in that generation of the patriarchs/matriarchs. Isaac being more passive from Akeidah to bestowing blessings, Rebecca is actively choosing to go with Eliezer, actively pushing Jacob to receive the blessing from Isaac, and guiding him to find refuge from a vengeful Esau at Laban’s home.
These are the two complimentary sides of Rebecca that I admire all these generations later. She was an exemplar of kindness and generosity, as well as a chutzpadik, empowered woman who made things happen. In a parsha named for Sarah, which focuses so much on Rebecca, we see in our earliest matriarchs an inheritance of strong, kind women on whose shoulders we continue to stand to this day.
When I think about my own mother, sister, grandmothers, aunts, cousins, I see those threads continue. In my family, the Jewish women don’t get pushed around. They often are the ones running the show with love and kindness. Take a moment and share this with the kind and strong women in your life – and let them know you appreciate the blessing they are.
By Rabbi Vernon Kurtz.
Living in Israel is living on an emotional rollercoaster. A few days before Simchat Torah this year we were all dreading the reliving of what happened on Simchat Torah, October 7, 2023. Then news came out of a possible ceasefire and the release of the hostages. Immediately, emotions changed from sadness to hopeful expectations. As the negotiations continued our hopes were raised and when the agreement was accepted by both sides there was relief and excitement here in Israel.
Hoshana Rabbah, the day before Shemini Atzeret in the Diaspora and Simchat Torah here in Israel, is a day of many emotions itself. On the one hand, it is placed during Sukkot, the Season of our Rejoicing, and, on the other, it is symbolically the end of the period of the High Holy Days with its awe and majesty. As Bryna and I went to a Masorti synagogue that morning for the service we were awaiting the news of the release of the 20 living hostages. As I wrote Rabbi Schwab, exactly at 8 am when it was reported that the first 7 hostages were being released the Hazzan uttered the words in the Amidah “Matir Asurim,” “He who releases those who are confined.” It was quite an emotional moment and our Hallel and Hoshanot prayers were filled with joyous singing.
We spent that afternoon glued to our television set. It was a split screen. On one side, we witnessed the release of the living hostages and when possible, the reunions with their families. They had endured 2 years of torture and through our prayers, demonstrations and concern we felt they were part of our immediate families. On the other side of the screen was the special session of the Knesset at which President Trump was extolled and during which he delivered his speech. While in the United States there are many people who marched in “No Kings” demonstrations criticizing the President and his policies, here in Israel he could easily be crowned king as each speaker, newspaper editorial and television commentator praised his leadership in releasing the hostages and in working towards a ceasefire.
Simchat Torah 5786 was filled with celebration and joyous singing and dancing. It had been our custom at our Masorti synagogue, Ma’ayanot, to select appropriate songs to recall the events of Simchat Torah 5783 and those taken hostage for the first 3 hakafot and only then to proceed with the joy of the Simchat Torah festival. That was our plan this year as well. However, as circumstances changed the decision was made to recall past events only during one hakafa and immediately proceed to the joyous singing and dancing.
Since that day, only a week ago, there is now much anxiety. Hamas has not returned all the captured deceased hostages and has broken the ceasefire several times. In fact, only this week two Israeli soldiers were killed, both from Modiin. One of the soldiers had attended my grandson Shmuli’s high school Yeshiva and prayed at the synagogue where one of Shmuli’s closest friends prays. He was also the brother-in-law of a family in which there are twins who are friends with one of our granddaughters, Anael. We are a small country and all of us are really part of one large mishpacha.
As I write these words, I am cautiously hopeful and yet filled with anxiety. We need the ceasefire to stick, for some of the soldiers to return to their homes, families, businesses and study programs and we expect the terrorist organization Hamas to live up to the agreement (that may be too much to ask for). As you know, Jewish life has changed for you as well. We need time for healing, a period during which we can plan for a bright future for the Jewish people here in Israel around the world and, at the same time, be able to confront those wish to harm us by word, deed and political means.
Towards the conclusion of Parshat Noah, Terach and his family leave Ur of the Chaldees on their way to the land of Canaan. Next week in Parshat Lech Lecha we will read about Abram and Sarai’s continuation of that journey as they make their way to the Promised Land. Bryna and I feel privileged to have followed in their footsteps and to make our home here in the Jewish State.
As we begin the period known here as “Acharei HaHagim,” “After the holidays,” we pray that this year be one filled with hope, peace, blessings and Beosort Tovot, good tidings for all.
By Rabbi Alex Freedman.
The most important day for New Year’s resolutions is January 2nd. Not January 1st.
On New Year’s Day, we may have resolved to do something better, like going to the gym more. We may have even exercised because work and school were canceled. But what happens on January 2nd? When work and school resume and you have to squeeze the workout into your busy day? To create the habit, you have to make it happen, not wait for it to happen. What happens on January 2nd is a better indicator of the year ahead than January 1st.
In about four days we’ll gather to celebrate Simchat Torah. We all know that as soon as we finish the Torah we begin anew with Genesis. Mere minutes later! Our reflex is that learning Torah never ends: no matter how old we are or how many times we’ve heard it, the Torah always offers something new. We seek to turn that value into a habit, which is why we start the Torah over on the same day.
Why does Sukkot, which concludes with Simchat Torah, occur now? Haven’t we been in shul enough over Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur? Why not celebrate Sukkot in another month without any holidays?
I believe the answer is because Sukkot is like January 2nd. Together, the High Holidays mark not only the beginning of the year but a clean wiping of the slate. Sukkot offers the opportunity to start the year on the right foot and create the right habits: with Mitzvot, with joining as community in shul, with joining friends and family for quality time in the Sukkah. It’s the logical follow up to the High Holidays because Sukkot emphasizes what we think about on the High Holidays: relationships, community, and G-d.
May the hostages return home very soon, as reports indicate. That would absolutely elevate our joy this holiday.
Chag Sameach.
By Hazzan Jenna Greenbeg.
During this 10th anniversary year of Hamilton: An American Musical, I can’t help but hear the following lyrics in my ear right now: “who lives, who dies, who tells your story.” These lyrics are so evocative of the end of Unetane Tokef, one of the most powerful texts in our High Holiday liturgy. Recited on both days of Rosh Hashanah as well as Yom Kippur in the repetition of the Musaf Amida, we recite these words, which speak of the sacred power of these holiest days of the year. God is the True Judge who remembers each of us, God willing, by inscribing us into the Book of Life.
And yet, while it is written on Rosh Hashana and sealed on Yom Kippur, nobody knows their ultimate fate, as there is only so much we can control.
The text continues: “How many will pass on, and how many will be born; who will live and who will die…” And what follows is a list, an unbalanced list of dark possibilities with hopeful opportunities, a list of what destiny has the potential to bring to any of us at any time.
But we should not live our life in fear of death. Rather, we should live our lives thinking of how we ultimately want to be remembered, both by the Divine and by those whose lives we impacted. Who will tell your story? What will you do to seal unforgettable memories into the hearts of your colleagues, your friends, your family?
While that open-ended question is full of endless possibilities, our prayer concludes with three very specific ways that we can accomplish this task of who will tell our story, the task of how we want to be remembered: “But T’shuvah, Te’fillah, and Tz’dakah have the power to transform the harshness of our destiny.” Through improving ourselves, through prayer, through righteous giving, we have the ability to be remembered by how we lived rather than how we died.
One of our beautiful supplementary texts in the Machzor Lev Shalem by Leonard Gordon shares the following about this part of this prayer: “We are not praying to be spared and ending in death. We are not even asking that death be postponed. Rather, after reminding ourselves relentlessly of the many ways that life might end, we tell ourselves that the way to cope with ultimate vulnerability is through T’shuvah, Te’fillah, and Tz’dakah. Our goal is not security, but a life of meaning that recognizes our vulnerability but rises beyond it.”
To quote another lyric from Hamilton: “Raise a glass to freedom.” We say “L’chayyim” to the freedom of choice that we have in our short time on earth. Let us all choose a life of meaning through the acts listed above, as well as many more actions we can take to create meaningful experiences and memories for ourselves and others.
May we all strive to live our lives with these questions in mind: Who will tell your story? And what will they say?
May we all be inscribed in the Book of Life, b’sefer chayyim.
G’mar Chatima Tova
By Hazzan Jacob Sandler.
In the name of Rabbi Jonathan Posner, in the name of Rabbi Abi Weber, in the name of Rabbi Danny Nevins, I recount to you the following story (joke):
Marty and Seymour are sitting on a park bench the day after Rosh HaShanah. Seymour pulls out a big sandwich, and Marty says, “Seymour! What are you doing?! It’s Tzom Gedalia!” Seymour turns to Marty and says, “Ya know Marty, I ask myself: Who was this Gedalia anyway? And would he have fasted for me?” While Marty was considering what to say in response, Seymour continued, “Besides, I don’t fast on Yom Kippur – so why would I fast on Tzom Gedalia?”
It’s a silly joke. And, precluding any health concerns, I do hope you all take the fast of Yom Kippur seriously in whatever way you are able. But I’ve often felt like Seymour. It’s the day after Rosh HaShanah, and I’ve worked my tuchus off hosting, cooking, davening, walking to and from shul — how could the rabbinic powers that be possibly insist on a calendar that places a fast day immediately after such an intense two days.
Another joke — perhaps this helps us reset after some hefty holiday meals?
No, the fast of Gedalia would have to be deeper than some kind of misguided diet plan. As Seymour asked himself: Who was Gedalia anyway?
After the Babylonians destroyed the first Temple in Jerusalem, they showed just a little mercy to some Jews remaining in Judea. They allowed the Jews to stay and appointed a righteous Jew as their governor. That was Gedalia ben Achikam. Jews who had escaped to nearby places chose to return and join Gedalia’s contingent. Gedalia believed that cooperation and subservience to their Babylonian conquerors would yield the safest results for the Jews living under his governance. But not everyone felt that way.
I think, in today’s world of rising antisemitism, it’s actually quite understandable that some Jews still seek to be accepted by society around them by being “good Jews” according to the values of the time. Others most certainly, and also understandably, have learned not to trust the ruling powers of any given time or place to protect them when the going gets tough. They hold onto their Jewish pride and values, even when it may strain the relationships with those beyond the Jewish community.
Though we ought to find in ourselves empathy for our fellow Jews who may respond differently to the realities at hand, we also should pride ourselves on how we hold disagreement with each other. Because the story of Gedalia continues.
One Jewish man, Ishmael ben Netania, who was deeply disturbed by Gedalia’s allegiance to the Babylonians and was jealous of Gedalia’s political power took it upon himself to stage a coup. He, along with 10 others, assassinated Gedalia and many other Jews and Babylonians who were with him at a communal meal. In the aftermath of this assassination, the Jews in Judea were afraid of the retaliation that may come. They consulted Jeremiah with a plan to flee to Egypt – where we are famously not supposed to return post-Exodus! Jeremiah appeals to God, and on Yom Kippur is answered that the Jews should stay, and all will be well. He warns the Jews that if they flee to Egypt, the Babylonians will eventually find them there.
Alas, they didn’t listen. They fled, and kidnapped Jeremiah to take him with them. And when Babylonians came to conquer Egypt, Jeremiah was the only one who survived.
The resonance of this story in our time is deep. Whether you were a fan of Charlie Kirk or vehemently disagreed with him, his assassination was without a doubt morally reprehensible. The aftermath of this sort of violence can only lead to more harm in the short term, before healing can come.
So why do we mark the fast right after Rosh HaShanah? We know that it happened in Tishrei from the biblical sources, and that it had to be between Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur based on Jeremiah’s appeal to HaShem. The Rabbis in the Talmud assign it to the 3rd of Tishrei. I assume they didn’t want to fast twice in the same 7-day period, nor take away from the joy of any of the holidays.
But all these centuries later, why do we still observe this obscure fast day? Because Zechariah insists that it is still important when asked by those Jews who returned from the Babylonian exile centuries later. And the lessons we learn from this story are still very important today.
First, we learn that the death of a righteous person is as tragic (or more) than the destruction of the physical Temple building.
Second, we learn that destruction and violence only begets more destruction. The assassination of Gedalia ultimately led to the full exile of the Jews from Judea, whereas under his governance, some Jews remained in the land.
And third, we learn that in times of distress, we must be prudent and cautious with our actions, and we should look to God for guidance. Perhaps more importantly, when we turn to God for answers, we must be willing to accept those answers even if they don’t align with our initial thinking.
As for Seymour’s second question – would Gedalia fast for you? I’m inclined to say, yes.
So for all those fasting, Tzom Kal – an easy fast. And for those just hearing about this for the first time: I hope today is given a little extra meaning, and another opportunity for reflection in these 10 days of Teshuva.
Dear Friends,
I am writing you this note from Jerusalem to wish you and yours a healthy, happy and peaceful 5786. May we all be written in the Book of Life, Good Health and Peace.
I also wanted to update you concerning our family and the situation here in Israel. Thank God, we are personally all well. The biggest change in the family is that our oldest grandson, Hadassa and Haim’s son, Shmuli graduated high school. Three weeks ago, he began the Hesder Yeshiva program which combines Yeshiva study with army service. It is a five-year program encompassing both serious Yeshiva study and service in the IDF.
As to the situation here in Israel, the best I can say is that it remains quite challenging. Our hostages remain in the tunnels of Hamas and each day, it is believed, their situation worsens. We continue to pray for their immediate release. Our soldiers are serving on the borders of Israel and in the major areas of the country protecting us each day. Our army still finds itself in Gaza preparing for serious battles which may claim many lives on both sides and families throughout Israel are attempting to cope with loss, injury and reserve duty which puts a great strain on family dynamics and well-being.
Only a few days ago sirens sounded in Jerusalem as a missile was launched from Yemen. We were forced to descend three flights from our apartment to our building’s shelter and wait for the all clear signal before we could return to the apartment. The terrorist action at the bus station in Ramot reminded us of the dangers present here and another terrorist action hit very close to home. Last Friday there was a stabbing at Kibbutz Tzuba. One of those injured was Nadav Garr, son of Yossi Garr (whom many of you know from Nativ) and grandson of Rabbi Ronnie and Minda Garr (whom many of you know from Camp Ramah in Wisconsin). Thankfully, Nadav is well and being released from the hospital. The family was present at the Kibbutz for an extended family brunch commemorating the Yahrzeits of Minda’s parents. We are neighbors and very close friends of Ronnie and Minda so it has shaken us up as well.
I don’t need to relate the geopolitical issues now facing Israel, you are all acquainted with them. It looks to be a very challenging year ahead.
We are continuously updated concerning the rising anti-Semitism occurring across the United States and Canada and, of course, in many other places around the world. I listened on zoom to the Federation annual meeting last week and heard the speech of Lonnie Nasatir outlining the many challenges that are currently being presented to the Chicagoland Jewish Community. I pray that you and your families are safe and remain so.
I do wish you to know that life goes on here in Israel. The cafes are full, the streets teeming with people, there is music, dance, art and serious study occurring in all parts of the country. We are very resilient and will remain so in the future.
We must never forget that we are a people of hope. It Is not by chance that the national anthem of Israel is “Hatikva”. It is part of our inner beings to pray for peace and pursue it. We are an eternal people and we will overcome those who wish to destroy us, once again.
I thank all of you who continue to reach out to us concerned with our welfare. I look forward to welcoming those of you who plan to visit Israel and show your personal support for the country and our people. I am grateful for all you do assist us – financially, politically and spiritually. Keep it up.
I continue to teach courses for the Schechter Institute here in Jerusalem on zoom. I am so pleased to study with many of you on Sunday mornings, Chicago time. If you are interested in learning with me the information is found in the Continuing Education brochure. You can also turn to Rachel Kamin for details.
There is a piyyut, a religious poem, that is found in many of the Selichot prayer services here in Israel. It states: “May the year and its curses end; may the new year and its blessings begin.” This is my prayer for you and yours personally and for all of us collectively.
May we share many blessings in 5786. Shana Tova to all of you from me and Bryna.
Rabbi Vernon Kurtz
1175 Sheridan Road, Highland Park, IL 60035 | (847) 432-8900 | [email protected] |
Copyright © 2025. All rights reserved. Website designed by Addicott Web.
