By Hazzan Jacob Sandler.
This past shabbat, I received the news that my paternal grandfather, Lenny Sandler passed away. I’d like to dedicate this week’s thought to him. Grandpa was a really sweet man, always ready to say how much he loved my siblings and I, with a hug and a kiss. In his latter years, he was awfully quiet and it took concerted effort to maintain a conversation. He loved to play drums, work on handy projects with his tools, and root for the Yankees. It seems fitting that Grandpa is being buried the same week that our patriarch Jacob is buried in parashat Vayechi.
As Jacob is preparing to be ‘gathered to his kin’ he gathers his 12 sons to bless them. If you read the blessings, they aren’t what you might expect. They’re more like predictions about the future tribes, or reflections about the brothers’ character in their father’s eyes. Still, it’s a blessing in itself to be able to share a final moment together.
Grandpa was 89 years old, and I could tell over the past 3 years that he knew the end could be near. I remember how his eyes filled with tears when he told me he wouldn’t see my sister become a doctor. And while she hasn’t earned the MD yet, he was alive for her PhD. Embedded in his fear, I heard a blessing. His grief, albeit premature, was an expression of pride in his granddaughter, confidence in her ability to finish what she started and of course so much love for wanting to witness that milestone.
Similarly, when we got together for Father’s day in 2023, he came to me and gave me a Magen David necklace, which has the Israeli paratroopers insignia on it. The top three triangles of the star have the letters Tzadi, Hay, Lamed – Tzahal and the bottom three have the letters I.D.F. for the Israeli defense forces. He told me he got it in Israel, and with a sad look in his eye, that he wanted me to wear it. The only time my grandpa had ever been to Israel, as far as I know, was on my Bar Mitzvah trip in 2007. In this gift, I felt a blessing. The necklace symbolized his recognition of my deep connection to Judaism and Israel, his hope that I would carry on my Jewish traditions as well as his memory. I could tell he wanted me to know that he would always be with me.
And while I don’t know of a specific moment like that between Grandpa and my younger brother, I do know that they had their own unique bond. Sammy recalled the way that Grandpa would laugh and smile as the three of us would act so silly at family events. Despite being a pretty old-school guy, Grandpa’s love for us shone through as he took our antics in stride. He always showed up for us at the holidays, the performances, the graduations and more. In this I see a blessing to always put family first, to show up and accept people as they are.
I’m grateful that I saw Grandpa just this past Thanksgiving. He was in a rehab center, not doing especially well. But I got to hug him and kiss him and make sure he knew how loved he was. He wasn’t quite lucid enough to give any final speeches, as Jacob does in our parasha. However, the blessings he shared implicitly in the final years will stay with me, along with many loving memories.
We finish Bereishit and say, “Chazak Chazak venitchazek.” As the generations of the patriarchs end, and the next part of our story begins, may we all go from strength to strength.
By Rabbi Alex Freedman.
We are called “Jews” in English because the Hebrew word is “Yehudim.” We are named such because we are the people of Judah/Yehudah. This is true in a technical sense because many Jews are descended from the tribe of Judah, and that was an earlier name for the Land of Israel. But I think there’s a homiletical reason for this particular name as well. There must be something special about Judah for us to be named for him, even more so than for Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. What spiritual DNA do we inherit from Jacob’s fourth son Judah?
Judah steals the stage at the beginning of this week’s portion, Vayigash. Joseph, second-in-command of all Egypt and at this point still a stranger to the brothers, has decided to imprison younger brother Benjamin because he supposedly stole the royal goblet (actually, Joseph framed him). It would make sense that the brothers would then return home to Israel without Benjamin, dejected and brokenhearted. What could they do, given that Benjamin was in jail?
But Judah would not accept that ending. Instead, he steps forward, literally. The first word in the portion is “Vayigash,” which means, “he approached/came forward.” With great sensitivity and respect, Judah makes a case to the powerful VP, as it were, to release Benjamin from prison and imprison himself instead, for he has guaranteed his brother’s safety to his father. Couched with delicate language and respect, Judah nonetheless forcefully makes a case that the right thing to do here is to release Benjamin.
I deeply admire Judah’s courage in speaking up in front of power. Joseph was the second-in-command, and Judah surely knew that he could be executed for challenging royalty. Nonetheless, Judah had the chutzpah to speak up for justice when the natural instinct would be to remain silent.
Second, the fact that he took seriously his responsibility for a younger brother is remarkable. He was willing to pay a significant personal price to help out his family. Not that we should go around making rash decisions and volunteering to go to jail, but we can admire his fierce commitment to family when things went sideways, not just when they were good.
Third, we should admire Judah’s personal growth and repentance. It’s easy to forget that it was actually his idea years ago to sell Joseph down to Egypt (Gn. 37:26). Judah learned from his mistake of abandoning a brother in a time of distress, and when the same opportunity faced him, he corrected his error.
These are admirable traits that express Jewish values then and now. These traits don’t happen automatically, but we have Judah’s example to remind us. Speaking up for justice in a challenging moment; pledging responsibility for a family member; and learning from our mistakes make us more like Judah.
By Hazzan JAcob Sandler.
‘Tis the season, and Chanukah is officially upon us. It’s not a high holiday, but with its proximity to Christmas, it’s perhaps one of the best known Jewish holidays among non-Jews (in predominantly Christian countries). I’ll credit the Rugrats and our friend Adam Sandler for making the holiday even more accessible outside Jewish spaces. Yet, how well do our neighbors really understand the meaning of Chanukah? And have we been prepared to help illuminate that meaning?
On Tiktok, Rabbi Seth Goldstein offered six possible meanings for this holiday. And since this is the holiday of 8s, I’ll add two more of my own.
The meaning of Chanukah is:
So whether you love Chanukah for the parties, the dreidels, the latkes or the candles, I hope this year it’s 8x more meaningful.
Happy Chanukah!
By Hazzan Jenna Greenberg.
As we approach the Winter Solstice this weekend, it is clear that our days are darker than they are light. Darkness and the chill it brings to this season has the potential to bring us down, make us fearful. And even the very first human felt this concern.
From Talmud Bavli Avodah Zarah 8a: When Adam saw the day becoming shorter and shorter, he said: “Woe is me! Perhaps because I sinned, the world is becoming dark around me and returning to chaos and void, and this is the death that was sentenced upon me from Heaven?” He stood up and fasted (and prayed) for eight days. When he saw the winter solstice, and saw the day becoming longer and longer, he said: “This is the way of the world!” He went and celebrated for eight days. For the next year, he made both these and those days of celebration.
After eating the forbidden fruit, Adam was expelled from the Garden of Eden. This is the sin that he speculates is the cause of darkness around him. As the days are shortening, Adam is anxious and interprets this as a consequence of his sin, thinking the world is coming to an end. According to this story, he fasts and prays as a way to connect with God and hopefully keep this catastrophe from happening.
By designating the days both before and after the solstice as festivals, Adam seems to be transformed from his first statements, thinking the darkness was happening because of his actions. He learns that he is not the cause of the growing darkness and the growing lightness. Adam celebrates his newfound ability to observe the world in a new “light,” learning more about himself and the world around him.
As the authors of Hadar’s 5785 Chanukah Companion share: “Adam teaches us that it is in the face of adversity, when hope seems dim, that we must tap into our inner courage and resilience. This internal spark, once ignited, has the potential to grow into a beacon of light, guiding us through life’s challenges and illuminating our path forward.”
From the beginning to the end of this weekend, let us greet the darkest day this Shabbat, knowing that a little bit of light will be added on Sunday, gradually increasing over these next months.
By Rabbi Alex Freedman.
We all know that we are the people Israel, which is the name given to our Patriarch Jacob in this week’s Parsha, Vayishlach.
Jacob famously wrestles with a man/angel and survives, and G-d bestows a new name to mark the achievement. G-d says, “Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with beings divine and human, and have prevailed” (Gn. 32:29). The word “Yisrael” is connected to the verb “to wrestle or struggle.” This is fitting because Jacob just physically wrestled a being that was part human, part divine. In every generation, the Jewish people have likewise had to struggle against other people seeking our end, as well as with trying to understand G-d in a challenging world.
I want to share another insight, which I learned from Rabbi Benjamin Blech and his book “Secrets of Hebrew Words.” Note that the spelling of “Israel” in Hebrew contains the first letters of all the Patriarchs and Matriarchs, no more and no less:
ישראל – Israel
יצחק/יעקב -Isaac/Jacob
שרה – Sarah
רבקה/רחל – Rebecca/Rachel
אברהם – Abraham
לאה – Leah
To be of the People Israel is to be an heir to all our Patriarchs and Matriarchs, to inherit their values and to commit to strengthening the Jewish family.
By Hazzan Jenna Greenberg.
This week began with Rosh Chodesh, the celebration of the Hebrew month of Kislev, the darkest month of the year. In this month during which the 8 day holiday of Chanukah begins, we are commanded to illuminate 44 candles over the eight days of this winter holiday. But what else is special about this number in relation to Chag Urim, our festival of lights?
There is a Jewish method of assigning numerical values to each of the Hebrew letters called Gematria. Sometimes we gain new insights by looking at how words and numbers intersect in relation to specific themes. When we take the number 44 and translate that into its Hebrew equivalent, we get Mem-Dalet, Fourty-Four. When we look at these letters as a word, we get Mahd, a word better translated as the suffix “-meter,” most commonly associated with “thermometer,” or Mahd-Chom, literally “measurement of heat.”
When we see this number Mem-Dalet in relation to Chanukah, the connection is clear: on this Chag Urim, Festival of Lights, we turn up the heat every night that we light the Chanukiah. As not only is this the darkest time of year, but the coldest as well. The lights of the Neirot, the candles, warm us both physically and spiritually, as we add to the light on each consecutive night of the holiday.
But there is another Gematria twist on the number 44 in relation to Chanukah.
If we look at actual words that have this same value, one that links beautifully to Chanukah is the Hebrew word for child, Yeled: Yud + Lamed + Dalet = 44. Chag Urim is so often associated with children, as even us adults often think fondly back to our childhood memories of making and eating latkes and sufganiot with family and friends, of singing the blessings and songs as the lights of the Chanukiah burn brightly. And I think many of us try to carry these traditions on to the next generations in our families.
There is something magical that happens when we light these 44 Chanukah candles each year. As adults, this experience often brings us back to our youth. And we watch our children’s faces brighten during this annual tradition. As children, we are in awe as we stare into the beautiful dancing flames as we continue on these holiday traditions every winter.
So when you go shopping for your Chanukah candles this month, perhaps you will have a new perspective on the power of this number.
And if you are in need of those 44 candles, please visit your Sisterhood Gift Shop for all of your Chanukah needs!
Parashat Vayera 5785.
By Rabbi Freedman.
It’s a story Jewish children learn in Hebrew School, and for good reason. Because the narrative around Abraham caring for strangers by his tent contains a core teaching of what Jewish values look like in action. And as adults, we can understand this on a deeper level.
Parashat Vayera begins when Abraham rushes out of his tent on a dog-days-of-summer hot day to welcome three strangers. Magnanimous in every way, Abraham offers to bring them a snack and then basically proceeds to serve Rosh Hashanah lunch combined with Thanksgiving dinner. Of the very best food he could offer. This demonstrates Abraham’s signature value of hospitality, Hachnasat Orchim, which has since been part of Jewish spiritual DNA.
There is a small detail I want to look at closely. Before Abraham offers them food, he says “Yukach Na Me’at Mayim V’Rahatzu Ragleichem V’Hi’sha’anu Tachat Ha’Etz. Let a little water be brought, wash your feet, and recline under the tree” (Gn. 18:4). Recall that on a hot desert day, water is more precious than money. And here Abraham wants to give invaluable water to the strangers…to wash their feet. Why? The Pshat, simple, interpretation is what the Etz Hayim Humash says: “Water for bathing one’s feet was a much-appreciated comfort to travelers with their sandal-like footwear and the pervasive dust of the roads.” This fits with Abraham’s sincere generosity.
Notice that Abraham doesn’t ask any questions of the travelers, like who they voted for, as it were. If there is one thing that was for certain, these men are not Jews. Impossible, for only Abraham’s family are Jewish. But this religious distinction – which is central to Abraham – falls second to their shared humanity.
Here is what Rashi says about why Abraham washed their feet, a Drash, creative interpretation: Abraham believes these are men who worshiped idols on the ground, and he is strict not to allow any idolatry into his house. In other words, he has serious religious differences with them. The water isn’t to make them physically comfortable – like a moist towelette for their feet. The water makes Abraham emotionally and spiritually comfortable by washing away all traces of idolatry. But not even polytheism stops Abraham from reaching out to the travelers. If Abraham can be a good neighbor to these travelers with profoundly different worldviews – then we should too.
This verse also inspires a Midrash quoted by the Etz Hayim Humash: “God promises Abraham, ‘As you brought a little water to My emissaries, I will give your descendants water in the desert. As you brought them bread to eat, I will sustain your descendants with manna for 40 years. As you gave them shade under a tree, I will give the Israelites a cover of clouds to protect them from the desert sun.’” In other words, the kindness Abraham offers the strangers boomerangs to directly benefit Abraham’s future offspring. Then and now, kindness begets kindness.
By Hazzan Jenna Greenberg.
At the very beginning of Parashat Lech L’cha, God commands Avram to go from his home to a land that God will show him. God continues with the following: “I will make of you a great nation,
And I will bless you; I will make your name great, And you shall be a blessing.”
As I first wrote this Thursday Thought on Election Day, long prior to any final results coming in, my sentiments ring true for these days after when results are now clear.
I can’t help but think of this idea of ‘being a blessing’ and how important it is for us to understand this in light of political diversity in our congregation, in our community, in our country. There is no question that presidential elections can have great potential to cause division among us. But I think it is important to remember the blessings of this week, regardless of the final results, which cause some to mourn and others to celebrate.
So what are some of the blessings of this week?
And for all of these, we must remember that each of us, as descendants of Avram, are blessings. May all of our names be made great by the ways we act to improve upon this country and the world in which we live.
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? Is the Torah distracted by something? The Rabbis find a deeper 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, theTorah 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 5785 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 Simchat Torah, we will dance through tears remembering a full year since October 7th, 2023. Many are wondering what, exactly, this is going to look like. The first three hakafot (circuits of dancing) will be recognizably similar to the past few years, with a focus on engaging the children and indulging in the joy that defines the holiday. The fourth hakafah, which is the exact middle, will be slow and somber allowing us to memorialize the yahrzeit of October 7th. We won’t dance. We may even cry. And we will highlight our special new Torah cover as we sing the familiar songs that have carried us through this painful year. The fifth hakafah will serve as a transition back into the joy of the holiday. We will dance again! And we will do so using melodies that inspire hope and celebrate Israel’s strength. Our final two hakafot, informed by the full breadth of emotions we’ve had to hold all year, will be traditional, and joyous with themes of redemption and Jerusalem.
For an outline of the evening’s hakafot:
The annual “Limbo Hakafah”
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