By Rabbi Alex Freedman.
The weekly Torah reading that highlights Noah has a peculiar beginning: “These are the offspring of Noah – Noah was a righteous man, perfect in his generations; Noah walked with G-d. – Noah begot three sons: Shem, Ham, and Japeth.” Why would the Torah tell us that Noah had offspring and then go on a tangent before actually naming his sons?
The Rabbis find a lesson. Here is the Artscroll commentary: “The verse began to introduce the list of Noah’s offspring, but once he was mentioned, Scripture praised him as a righteous man. According to the Midrash, the Torah means to teach that the primary ‘offspring’ of the righteous are their good deeds, for the worthwhile things that a person does are his primary legacy (Rashi).”
In other words, Noah’s first offspring was actually his good deeds. Those came before his children in time, because Noah lived his own life before his children came around.
I appreciate that this interpretation gives such weight to our actions. They are not merely choices to make during the day and ones that fade away into history. Instead our actions are a record of who we are, one that follows us forever, we hope for the good.
This is the first week in a whole month without a Jewish holiday, and 5787 still feels fresh. I hope we retain the sense of renewal that we felt on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. As we re-enter the familiarity of the normal part of the calendar, like Noah, let us give extra attention to our actions post-holidays. Let us treat our choices and actions with the same care we offer our own children.
By Hazzan Jacob Sandler.
This week we begin the cycle of reading the Torah all over again. Every time we read parashat Bereishit, I’m inspired anew to grapple with the story of Creation. In the Cohen Religious School may students in the 6th and 7th grade have, over the years, asked me a version of the following question:
If the Creation story is true, what do we do about the scientific theory of Evolution? And if, as the scientific evidence suggests, Evolution is true, how can we trust the rest of the Torah?
I love this question from our students because it shows me they’re beginning to think critically about the world. They are attempting to make sense of their learning from school and religious school. And, most importantly they are taking their Judaism seriously enough to demand it make sense in the context of their lives.
I always start with the same framework: science and religion are antithetical to one another. They answer different questions. The scientific process endeavors to explain how things work in the world, and is focused on the measurable, material and physical. Religion, like philosophy in general, seeks out answers to metaphysical questions such as why do things work the way they do. Is there a purpose to it?
However I recently saw a Tedx Talk given by Denis Lamoureux called “Beyond the ‘creation vs. evolution’ debate” in which he made a strong case for “Evolutionary Creation.” His basic premise is that the Evolutionary processes, like natural selection and mutation, can still be attributed to the will of a Creator who ordains and sustains natural phenomena. His response to the contradiction regarding the age of the universe is to acknowledge something fundamental about the Bible: it seamlessly blends prose and poetry.
He explains that in the eye of an ancient observer, the biblical account made intuitive sense. There was a blue sky that looked a lot like the blue sea. The sea had some land. And in between was some kind of firmament that separated the two. This understanding was common in other ancient cultures as well.
He further expands on the poetic parallelism in the seven day creation story. When God created the world it was “tohu and vohu” formless and void. The rhyme is no accident. The first three days are structural, providing a form to the formless. The next three days address the void, filling what is empty. Day 1 – light from dark parallels Day 4 the sun, moon and stars. Day 2 – upper waters from lower waters parallels the birds and fish which fill the sky and sea. Day 3 – separating dry land from sea parallels Day 6 all the land creatures and ultimately human beings. And on Day 7 – Shabbat!
Seeing the story as more poetic relieves us of having to pick a side in the old debate. It permits us to be intellectually honest and scientific, while preserving the foundations of our spiritual devotion and faith. As conservative Jews, it is our great privilege to navigate the tensions between tradition and modernity. We can extol the texts that guide us, and engage thoroughly and thoughtfully with the wisdom of the wider world. As we read the Torah again this year, may each question it raises be an opening to deeper meaning and fuller understanding of the world, of God, of each other and ourselves.
By Hazzan Jenna Greenberg.
The Before and The After. These two time frames, pervade our lives daily in various ways.
Most recently, I have been thinking of these two opposites in light of a new book I started reading by Rachel Goldberg-Polin, When We See You Again. The book is written in memory of her son, Hersh, who was taken hostage from the Nova Festival on October 7, 2023 and murdered by Hamas during his captivity. She writes of the Before, the 23 years of Hersh’s life, and the After, the moment that his captivity began and everything he endured thereafter, a story that most of us are quite familiar with, especially as many of us have Chicago connections with the family.
I began reading this book on the second day of Sukkot, my brother’s first yahrzeit. Despite the holiday being labeled as Z’man Simchateinu, the season of our happiness, for me, these timeframes of the Before and the After ring very true. And while this may be true of anyone who has lost a loved one, it rings especially true in light of unexpected tragic loss, as was the case for my brother as well.
We are heading into the final fall holidays this weekend. Shemini Atzeret stands as a unique holiday, an epilogue to Sukkot. It too is biblically labeled as Z’man Simchateinu. Yet even on this joyous holiday, we add Yizkor, the second memorial service of 5787, where we remember all of those we have lost. Despite the happy theme that the Torah labels this holiday with, we pause to remember the souls of our departed. We also read a selection from Kohelet, Ecclesiastes, a biblical text that grapples with the existential meaning and futility of human life. The emotions of joy and sadness merge on this holiday.
And then we turn from the melancholy and retrospection to pure and utter joy with Simchat Torah, the concluding holiday of this season. Still labeled as Z’man Simchateinu, with Simcha, joy, in its name, it also contains both ends of the emotional spectrum. While proud of completing the annual cycle of reading the Torah, built into that is a brief moment of sadness, another year passed, a closing of this cycle Before a new one begins…almost instantaneously, as we begin the Torah once again right After finishing it.
Simchat Torah gives us a sense of hope, a fresh start, a new beginning. These themes, the Before and the After, the sadness and the joy, they represent the cycle of life and all of the emotions that life throws at us. As we conclude these fall chaggim, the Prologue of holidays before launching the annual Torah reading cycle for 5787, I wish for all of us to have the ability and strength to ride the emotional waves that cross our hearts throughout this new year.
This Thursday Thought is dedicated in memory of my brother, Jeremy Greenberg z”l on his first yahrzeit.
By Rabbi Alex Freedman.
Shabbat Shalom and Chag Sameach.
I used to compare the High Holidays to the Super Bowl, as many others do. After all, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are certainly the days with the biggest shul attendance, highest spiritual significance, and largest amount of preparation. Likewise, the Super Bowl is the football game with the biggest audience, the most at stake, and is the culmination of a long process. But I stopped using this analogy when I realized it has a fatal flaw. Whereas the Super Bowl marks the end of the football season, we in synagogue are just getting started. Only five days after Yom Kippur and it’s Sukkot! Not only are the spiritual stakes high again, but this holiday requires a lot of handiwork, as we must build a Sukkah only a few days after Yom Kippur. There are lots more prayers to sing and, oh yeah, this one lasts a full week.
Perhaps you feel similar and wonder: exactly why must Sukkot be now? We just got through Yom Kippur! Can’t we take a breather first? Furthermore, the Torah says the reason we live in a Sukkah is to remember how G-d made the Israelites dwell in booths in the desert after Egypt. Why must that annual recollection be now? After all, in the desert, that was a year-long experience, and we could recreate that today in any non-winter month!
First, perhaps the simplest reason: Sukkot not only commemorates G-d’s protection of the Israelites in the wilderness, but the ingathering of the annual harvest. Farmers’ crops would grow through the spring and summer and be gathered after the growing season ended – right about now. The season when farmers amassed all this bounty was a logical time to thank G-d for the blessings of nature and of providing sustenance. That’s the agricultural calendar at work. And the spiritual calendar tells us the fall harvest is the time of Yom Kippur. So this explanation suggests the two holidays are connected by seasons, not themes.
But my second answer ties directly to the theme of Yom Kippur. Let me quote Rabbi Yechiel Michel Epstein of 19th century Lithuania, the Aruch HaShulchan:
“It’s because G-d desires to demonstrate that even though we are sinners, nevertheless G-d doesn’t remove His providence from upon us. Following Yom Kippur [in the desert], G-d instructed [the Israelites] to make the Mishkan (Tabernacle), so His presence could dwell among them….and G-d did not remove the Clouds of Glory (Sukkah). So too G-d showed us, through this Mitzvah, this same model for all time. G-d forgives our sins on Yom Kippur when we do Teshuvah. Here’s a sign [of that forgiveness]: Immediately after Yom Kippur we are commanded to make a Sukkah in order to dwell in G-d’s shade…This shows us that despite all our sins, G-d loves us and protects us from all harm. G-d brings us under G-d’s holy and pure shade and protects us from above, (represented by the Schach).”
Yom Kippur is about G-d’s forgiveness, and that is something we know in our heads. But we don’t see it with our eyes. This rabbi suggests that Sukkot is a visual expression of Yom Kippur’s forgiveness, that G-d wants to keep us safe and wants us to know it too. Just as G-d’s Clouds of Glory kept the Israelites safe in the dangerous desert, so too in the Sukkah we see the Schach overhead and should be visually reminded that G-d continues to protect us now. I like this explanation because it ties together the two holidays with a shared theme of forgiveness. Yom Kippur is the declaration of G-d forgiving us, while Sukkot is the expression of G-d forgiving us and wanting to be close to us again.
Sukkot isn’t just about the What and the Why. It’s also about the When.
By Rabbi Alex Freedman.
Rosh Hashanah is over and next week’s Yom Kippur is still a few days away. What are we supposed to do now?
Don’t think of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur as separate and distinct holidays with an extended pause. Instead, consider them bookends to a single extended season – the time for Teshuvah. This Hebrew word means “repentance” but it connotes forgiveness, return, and renewal. On Rosh Hashanah, we sang during UNetaneh Tokef: “on Rosh Hashanah it is written, and on Yom Kippur it is sealed.” The in-between days are the test for the new commitments we made on Rosh Hashanah. What happened when we went home after services? Did we start living by our new commitments? Or did we fall into familiar patterns? Based on this in-between week, we set the tone for the year ahead.
Known as the Aseret Yemei Teshuvah/Ten Days of Repentance, Jewish law urges us to be at our very, very best during these days, even if we take on practices we cannot otherwise sustain every day of the year, like going to Minyan. This is spiritual crunch time, time for us to push ourselves a little.
I learned the following from my teacher Rabbi Daniel Goldfarb at the Conservative Yeshiva in Jerusalem: The ten days of Teshuvah include both Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, which leaves seven in-between days. Each day of the week leaves its mark on that day for the entire year. So today, Thursday, sets the tone for every Thursday in 5787. The next day, Friday, sets the tone for every Friday in the year ahead, and so forth. If we want the year to go as we wish, we have to set the tone early. Otherwise we revert to old habits. When we live out the days following Rosh Hashanah according to our new commitments, we reach Yom Kippur confident that we can live them out.
Shabbat Shalom.
By Hazzan Jacob Sandler.
Last Saturday night, after Shabbat, we gathered for a special Selichot service. As the work of doing teshuva intensifies, this service includes special prayers for forgiveness as the High Holidays are imminent. The service is late at night, meditative and also previews some of the melodies that invoke the grandeur of the Days of Awe.
One of the main features of Selichot that is repeated throughout the High Holiday Liturgy is the recitation of the Thirteen Attributes of God’s Mercy.
These words from the Torah, come immediately following the sin of the golden calf. After this incident, it is Moshe himself who appeals to God to forgive us. God does forgive us, and tradition tells us that this was the first Yom Kippur.
Because we recite these words three times in the Selichot service, I like to consider the different types of sins for which we seek forgiveness. In Hebrew we have three words: Chata, Avon and Pesha. Each has its own connotation.
Chata’ah or Chet (חַטָּאָה – chata’ah / חטא – chet ) is a word that comes from archery – it connotes “missing the mark” or falling short. Everyone makes mistakes, often unintentionally or perhaps with the best of intentions.
Ask yourself: What are the mistakes I’ve made that I seek forgiveness for? What are the little things I wish I did better?
Avon (עָוֹן) implies a “twisting” or “perversion” of God’s will. Sometimes, in moments of hubris or in times of overwhelming stress, we rationalize or justify behavior that we know deep down isn’t quite right. We allow ourselves to make concessions around our values for convenience, to save face, or oftentimes because we hope the ends will justify the means. Life is complicated, and we all make decisions, intentionally, that we later realize were wrong.
Ask yourself: How can I be more courageous in living by my values? When have I felt like I had to compromise on my values in the past year?
Pesha (פֶּשַׁע) indicates willful transgression, rebellion, or betrayal of a relationship. It describes actions carried out with a defiant attitude towards God, rejecting Divine authority and actively choosing to go astray. It’s the most severe form of sin among the three. It feels quite vulnerable to dare to admit that we’ve transgressed in a defiant, betraying way–whether toward God, or toward our fellow human beings, or even toward ourselves.
Ask yourself: Were there times when I was willfully cruel or mean-spirited? Were there times when I knowingly made the wrong choice? Were there times when I ignored my conscience and in so doing, ignored the still small voice of God that echoes within me?
Whether you’re heart flooded with examples of mistakes and regrets in each category, or you found yourself stretching to remember something that felt truly sinful, my hope is that through reflection, we can all feel more prepared for the days ahead. Let the mistakes we seek to repair and the standards to which we aspire serve as our intentions, kavanot, for the High Holiday season. May our reflections be pathways into the liturgy and holy atmosphere that pervades these awesome days. L’shana Tovah u’metukah! May we all be inscribed for blessing, health and forgiveness in the year to come.
.By Rabbi Alex Freedman.
Here’s a paradox: the more we move “up” a certain ladder, the more important people at the “bottom” become.
I remember being a camper at Camp Ramah in Wisconsin and noticing only a few staff members: my counselors, Rosh Aidah (unit head), and Director. As a kid, that’s who appeared to run camp. When I became a bunk counselor, though, my perspective widened. I realized that a whole army was needed to keep the place going smoothly: doctors in the infirmary, assistants to make photocopies, social workers to help deal with difficult kids (definitely not yours). I zoomed out fully when I reached the “top” as a Rosh Aidah, in charge of 70 kids and a staff of 20. Now I noticed – and depended on – the kitchen staff who served thousands of meals a day, and the maintenance staff who saved the day time and again. Without them, camp would go hungry and fall apart – literally. I only really saw them when I had a position of authority. Though I was perceived to be a “high-up,” I looked to them as having very important positions as well. Camp can’t run without people in charge – or without people doing jobs that are “less desirable.” In that sense, though not all are equally replaceable, all are equally important.
Our Torah reading, Nitzavim-VaYelech, reflects this crucial idea as well, that everybody counts. We learn that Moses gathers everybody before entering the Promised Land. “Everybody” includes “the tribal heads, the elders, the officers,” which is to be expected. He also specifies, “even the wood chopper and water drawer ” (Dt. 29:9, 10). They have a crucial role in making society work, just like at camp. Who could live without heat or water? For a society to function, every role is important.
With Rosh HaShanah a week away, this is something for us to think about: Who do we see as “beneath” us? How do we – and how should we – treat them? Because the sign of a strong cabin, family, and society is how well those “at the top” treat those who are seen as “at the bottom.” Strong groups know not to aim for a ladder with top and bottom but a circle, with every point equidistant from the center and playing an equal role in preserving the whole.
By Hazzan Jenna Greenberg.
With Shavuot behind us, and the summer ahead of us, that only means one thing: the High Holidays are coming! (And don’t forget to complete your ticket requests for…check your email for more info). But what do the Yamim Noraim have to do with this week’s parsha? Well, in Behaalotcha, we read a passage that is very well known for those who stick around for the end of Rosh Hashana Musaf. The shofarot section quotes Num. 10:10, saying (or shall I say “blasting”): “And on your joyous occasions—your fixed festivals and new moon days—you shall sound the trumpets over your burnt offerings and your sacrifices of well-being. They shall be a reminder of you before your God: I, the ETERNAL, am your God.”
Uveyom simchatchem, and on your joyous occasions, is followed with a 2 part list including Yom Tov and Rosh Chodesh. Shabbat seems to be missing from this list, and yet, the midrash in Sifrei Bemidbar 77 says that this refers to Shabbat as well. For as we know from so many of our Shabbat prayers, we sing about joy, with texts like Yismechu in Musaf, v’Samcheinu in all of our Amidot as well as the Friday night liturgy. We have the wonderful Zemer, or song, of Menucha v’Simcha, traditionally sung on Shabbat day, celebrating the restful and joyous nature of our weekly holiday.
And what makes Shabbat even more joyful is singing all of these texts, bringing these words to life through the melodies that we sing. While we do not blow the shofar daily (at least not until Elul in a few months), we are like the shofar described, sounding our voices to be heard by ourselves, by our community and by God.
Having just attended a “Song is Prayer” Retreat, led by Joey Weisenberg from Hadar, held at Beth El this week, I can’t help but wonder how deliberate it was of him to plan this program during the week that we read this very verse from the Torah. In one of his teachings, and yes, we balanced the singing with text study as well, he shared the metaphor of the ladder. When we pray, we work our way up the ladder of holiness, changing our volume along the way. We begin with communal singing in our preliminary prayers. We then proceed with a combined focus of both singing and listening, as the latter is the theme of the Shema and its blessings. And this is followed by silence, the Amida, at the peak of the ladder. At the top of the ladder, we find ourselves perhaps closest to God, at the highest point of holiness. And then we work our way back down the ladder as the service comes to a close, and our volume increases in song once again with our final prayers.
There is great joy, simcha, in this cycle of communal prayer, as we olim v’yorim bo, to paraphrase the Jacob’s ladder verse, as we go up and down the ladder of holiness, both in song and in silence. For the quiet listening that we also do is just as important as the beautiful music that we make. The balancing of the niggunim, the melodies that we sing with the silence between them, have the potential power to bring great joy to each of us.
May we each find simcha, joy, in the song-filled moments as well as the quieter moments of our Shabbat prayers.
Shabbat Shalom
By Hazzan Jacob Sandler.
Perhaps the most famous quote from this week’s parasha, Naso, is the priestly blessing. These words, which the Kohanim (priests) still use to bless us on Festival holidays in the “duchening” section, are also recited by many parents around the world to bless their children at the Shabbat dinner table. They go as follows:
יְבָרֶכְךָ֥ יְהֹוָ֖ה וְיִשְׁמְרֶֽךָ׃
יָאֵ֨ר יְהֹוָ֧ה ׀ פָּנָ֛יו אֵלֶ֖יךָ וִֽיחֻנֶּֽךָּ׃
יִשָּׂ֨א יְהֹוָ֤ה ׀ פָּנָיו֙ אֵלֶ֔יךָ וְיָשֵׂ֥ם לְךָ֖ שָׁלֽוֹם׃
“GOD bless you and protect you!
GOD deal kindly and graciously with you!
GOD bestow favor upon you and grant you peace!”
It’s a beautiful 3-fold blessing which asks for God’s protection, God’s grace, and ultimately peace. I might suggest that protection is for external threats of harm or trouble. Grace is there to lift us up after we may fall prey to our internal threats of harm or trouble — when we make mistakes and need permission to get back on the proverbial horse. And peace is for the innermost place of our being. Peace, shalom which shares a root with shalem/wholeness is the greatest gift. Peace comes when we are fully in tune with who we want to be and who we already are.
It could be said the first blessing is for our bodies – that we should be blessed and protected physically.
The second blessing is for our minds, or our egos – that we should be dealt with kindly and graciously.
Finally the third blessing is for our souls. That we should feel lasting peace through our connection with the spark of God’s holiness within us.
What better way to let the words of the blessing penetrate us physically, mentally and spiritually than through music – the medium that is physical vibrations, mental processing and spiritually elevating.
Here’s a setting of this text by my teacher Cantor Gerald Cohen as sung by a multi-generational group of HaZamir community members:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LBgtZ6FUbRc
By Rabbi ALex Freedman.
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