By Hazzan Jacob Sandler.
One of my favorite times of year is the counting of the Omer. We march on a journey toward Mt. Sinai to receive the Torah once again, and, just like the first time, we start by leaving Egypt. It should come as no surprise to those who know me well that the mystical interpretation of this mitzvah animates me like on other. The kabbalists pick up on the sanctity of the number 7 throughout the cycles of Jewish life.
The seventh day – Shabbat. The seventh year – Shemitah. The year after the 7th set of 7 years: the Jubilee! And so Shavuot, the festival of weeks, celebrates a micro-Jubilee. From the second night of passover we count seven complete weeks, each seven days. Seven is the number of completeness and of holiness.
Each week of the Omer takes us on a trip through the kabbalistic “Tree of Life” – known as the 10 Sefirot. The uppermost 3 are considered intellectual and separated from the lower 7 emotional sefirot. Each of the lower 7 sefirot are interrelated. So, the first week is a chance to examine Chesed from every angle. Each day we look at the week’s sefirah from the angle of the other sefirot. It’s a little confusing at first but imagine:
Day 1 – Chesed of Chesed, Day 2 – Gevurah of Chesed, Day 3 – Tiferet of Chesed and so forth.
By Day 8 it’s Chesed of Gevurah, etc.
The weeks are:
And each day of each week follows the same order. I hope you’ll join us for counting the omer at evening minyan, where we will share brief questions for self-reflection that correspond to the daily and weekly mystical theme of the sefirot.
I’m always so delighted that during this Passover week, we begin with love and kindness. Surrounded by loved ones at seders and our community at shul, it’s a wonderful reminder of how much love is in our lives. And reciting Hallel each morning for Yom Tov and Chol HaMoed, we are reminded of God’s eternal Chesed too. The first step to making our freedom worthwhile is to spread love and kindness. “Let all who are hungry come and eat” as they say. May this week be a week to pay extra attention to the kindness we show and receive. And let’s make an extra effort to embody that love and kindness this week, and throughout our lives.
By Rabbi Alex Freedman.
Be kind to the stranger: they may grow up to change the world, or at least yours.
If courage had a hall of fame, Shifra and Pua would stand at its entrance. These two women star at the beginning of the Passover story, whose story continues to be told on the final days of Pesach. These two women are largely unknown, which is a shame. For their example continues to lead us.
Shifra and Pua are the Hebrew midwives charged with delivering the Israelite babies. Pharaoh commands them to kill the baby boys but let the girls live. The Torah continues, “The midwives feared G-d and did not do as the King of Egypt instructed. They let the boys live” (Ex. 1:17).
When Pharoah saw Jewish babies being born, he confronted Shifra and Pua. “How could you let them live?” he cried out. They replied, “The Hebrew women are not like the Egyptian women; they are vigorous. Before the midwife can reach them, they’ve given birth.”
Their act of bravery is the first recorded act of civil disobedience, so timely in the days leading up to Martin Luther King Jr. Day.
Are these remarkable women Jewish? I don’t believe so. “Hebrew midwives” can mean midwives for the Hebrews. Why would Pharaoh ever expect a Jewish woman to murder Jewish babies? Instead they are two Egyptian women who fear G-d more than Pharaoh, who refuse to take part in a crime against humanity. Shifra and Pua see the stranger as themselves and are thus worth saving. Who knows who these innocent babies might grow up to be?
We do. Moses was one of them. Moses, whose people would one day create in the state of Israel a Tel Aviv maternity hospital at the intersection of Shifra and Pua Streets.
There’s an inspiring story in my favorite Haggadah, called A Different Night. It goes like this:
“One Sunday morning in 1941 in Nazi-occupied Netherlands, a mysterious character rode up on his bicycle and entered the Calvinist Church. He ascended the podium and read aloud the story of the midwives who saved the Hebrew babies and defied Pharaoh’s policy of genocide. “Who is today’s Pharaoh?” he asked.
“Hitler,” the congregation replied.
“Who are today’s Hebrew babies?”
“The Jews.”
“Who will be today’s midwives?”
He left the church, leaving his question hanging in the air.
During the war seven families from this little church hid Jews and other resisters of the Nazis.”
Shifra and Pua inspired these families to see the stranger as an insider, not an outsider. They changed the world for these families.
This time we recall the Exodus story, let us not only condemn Pharaoh but also praise his midwives for their unmatched bravery. The Exodus experience reveals humanity at its lowest point and at its highest.
By Hazzan Jacob Sandler.
On the one hand I’m grateful that Haman’s lot landed in Adar and the Jews of Shushan had enough time to undo his plot. On the other hand, did Purim have to be only four short weeks before Passover? How am I supposed to get rid of all the chametz in my mishloach manot in time? How can I kasher a kitchen when I’m still exhausted from months of preparing spiels, seudahs and megillah reading?
I’m whining, I know. And in part facetiously, but it is a hectic transition. And I think it’s a profoundly meaningful transition as well.
The theology of Passover is one in which God Himself (not a ministering angel, nor a messenger, etc.) performed wonders and miracles to redeem B’nai Yisrael from slavery. God’s power is unmatched, and the generation of the Exodus had an unparalleled experience of God as revealed and imminent. This is further punctuated by the springtime bookend of Shavuot, where the people experience God’s thundering presence to the point of great terror. I imagine, taking all this to be true, that nobody was left questioning God’s existence or involvement. Then again, I know the people must’ve still had doubts because they weren’t quiet about expressing such things as recorded in the Torah itself. Yet, to the reader of scripture, God is very present in the Exodus story.
As the year goes on, we witness destruction and exile in the form of 17 Tammuz and Tisha B’Av. This gets rectified through consolation and in some ways, Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur are the perfect middle ground between God as revealed and God as concealed. God’s imminent presence is felt on these High Holidays, and our relationship with God is of extraordinary import as we navigate the work of Teshuva. Our returning to God at this time of year is precisely because we are the most removed from the Passover feeling. It is our reaching out that makes God’s presence felt. On Passover, God took us out with a strong hand and an outstretched arm. On Yom Kippur it is our arms that are outstretched in yearning to be close to God, and forgiven.
Sukkot we sit in the joy of the ultimate mystery. We go outside and reckon with our vulnerability and though God’s glory is concealed to us, we find revelation not in our triumph, but in our fragility. That we are here at all is a hint that points to God’s grace and love. And then the holidays get a little less God-centric and a lot more human-centric. In Kislev we celebrate Hanukkah and its miracles. But the primary miracle in some ways is that we overcame a human force much greater than ourselves. And finally as the year comes to a close we get to Purim. On Purim we celebrate a holiday of diaspora, during which God isn’t mentioned even once in the story. We see the events of the Purim story as overwhelmingly mundane, implausibly lucky, and ultimately it is human interventions that win the day. The theology of Purim suggests that it is our job to read God into the story. By extension, we are more similar to the Jews of Shushan than we are to the Israelites of the Exodus. We have the challenge of living when God is most concealed, and the responsibility of reading God into our own stories. And in a time like this when we people are so polarized – when the world seems upside-down for the umpteenth time this decade, it is our duty to seek out God. What does God want? Where do we see God working behind the scenes?
I think this reflects the course of history in some ways. God was so imminent in the early part of history, and seems to be evermore mysterious and concealed. Perhaps the most important reminder as we go from Purim to Passover is that we remember both. We remember, as though we were there, the times when God was irrefutably there for us as a people. And, we remember the times when we took courageous actions only to realize in hindsight that God was there too, guiding our steps and watching our backs.
May it be a wonderful Passover.
By Hazzan Jenna Greenberg.
This Shabbat is the final of the four special parshiyot leading up to Purim and Pesach. They each include a unique maftir, the final Torah reading separate from the weekly parsha, as well as a special Haftara connected to the theme of the Shabbat. We began the journey through these four Shabbatot with Shabbat Shekalim, followed by Shabbat Zachor. Just last week was the third of these four special Shabbatot, Shabbat Parah.
And here we are now, at the final of the four special Shabbatot, as it is Shabbat haChodesh, which precedes or falls on the first of the month of Nisan during which Passover is celebrated. In our unique maftir, we read about how on the first day of Nisan, God presented the first commandment of how to “sanctify the new moon” (kiddush hachodesh) for the onset of Rosh Chodesh. Thus the biblical Chodesh Aviv, known today as Nisan, becomes the first month of the Jewish year.
Last weekend we were visited by two JTS rabbis, one of whom taught on this commandment on Shabbat afternoon. Rabbi Joel Seltzer shared an interesting take on “the first commandment.” The first commandment in the Torah at the beginning of Breishit is p’ru urvu, to be fruitful and multiply. This first mitzvah in the Torah was God addressing us as individuals to fill the earth. The divine commandment we read today from Shemot, to sanctify Nisan as the first month of the year, is the first mitzvah addressed to the entire Jewish people.
This was the first mitzvah given to the Jewish people while still in Egypt and also on the verge of being freed: “This month shall be for you the beginning of the months; it shall be the first of the months of the year for you.” (Ex. 12:2)
Rabbi Seltzer shared several commentaries, one of which is from the 12th century French commentator, Bekhor Shor: “This month is ‘The First of Freedom,’ and so you shall make it the first of the counting of your months, in order that your counting begins at the moment of freedom, and by remembering this moment of freedom, you will remember the good that I (God) did for you, and you will be diligent with your awe, your love, and your worship of me.”
By declaring any new month on the Shabbat before each Rosh Chodesh, the Jewish people have the ability and responsibility each month to sanctify life and the passage of time.
By declaring the month of Nissan, as we will do so this weekend, the Jewish people have the additional ability to show eternal gratitude for our freedom, that of our ancestors and the freedoms we continue to celebrate today. Just as we have two separate “first” commandments for individuals and as a whole community, so too do we have the responsibility, both as individuals and as Am Yisrael, to continue to add to the world, celebrating our freedom through our ma’asim tovim, the good deeds that can help improve the world in which we live.
Shabbat Shalom, Chodesh Tov, and an early Chag Pesach Sameach!
By Rabbi Alex Freedman.
What if Purim and Passover weren’t two separate holidays? What if they were actually bookends for a single month-long process?
Rabbi David Hoffman of JTS taught me such. Notice that exactly one month separates the two holidays – Purim is on the 14th of Adar (15th in Jerusalem) while Passover is celebrated on the 15th of Nisan.
The one-word summary of Purim is chaos. Life nearly ended for all the Jews of Shushan, and then suddenly they were on top. Everything took a 180 degree turn, like Esther keeping her Jewish identity secret to sharing it with the king very publicly. Today Purim is marked by riotous, chaotic fun, costume, and shtick.
When we turn to Pesach, though, we encounter the opposite. In one word, Passover is about order. The holiday is dominated by the Seder, the step-by-step dinner script whose Hebrew word means “order.” We follow time-tested processes and rules on Seder night to move us to a place where we taste slavery and freedom, literally and metaphorically.
The days that move us from Purim to Passover are themselves a step-by-step personal journey from chaos to order. How appropriate is it that this march happens during March? People can’t turn from one strong emotion to another on a dime. We need time and a step-by-step process to get us to somewhere else. And as the days of Passover draw nearer, we then have the opportunity to prepare ourselves for the next stage of the year.
Let us enjoy these two upcoming holidays – and let us find meaning in seeing them as fundamentally connected too.
By Hazzan Jenna Greenberg.
Parashat Tetzaveh often falls right around Purim, and both share the theme of fashion, whether it be the uniform for the Kohanim or the costumes we wear for Purim. How we look on the outside defines us. How we dress on Shabbat elevates us physically, differentiating our appearance from the rest of the week… and also it is a mitzvah!
The Talmud explains, in Shabbat 113a, that wearing special clothes for Shabbat is one of the best ways of showing Kavod Shabbat, honor for Shabbat.
By dressing up, we not only honor Shabbat, but this is a physical way in which we “Remember Shabbat and keep it holy,” one of the 10 Commandments that we read just a few weeks ago in Parashat Yitro.
On the theme of Remembering Shabbat, we have yet another connection to this particular Shabbat that connects us to our upcoming holiday of Purim. This Shabbat, Tetzaveh coincides with Shabbat Zachor, the Shabbat preceding Purim in which we read a special Maftir and Haftara, both focusing on Remembering what Amalek did to our people. The Maftir begins with “Remember” and ends with “Do not forget,” bookending the passage with the same message in different wordings.
There is a tradition from the Talmud that Haman, the antagonist of the Purim story, was descended from Amalek, hence why we read this on the Shabbat preceding Purim. In the Maftir verses, it is a Mitzvah, a commandment, to remember Amalek, ancestor to Haman, whose name we will blot out with our graggers next week each time we hear his name read in Megillat Esther.
The theme of memory on this Shabbat is both physical and historical. Physically, through the fashion theme of Tetzaveh, we learn the Mitzvah of honoring Shabbat by how we dress on the holiest day of the week. Historically, we are commanded to remember Amalek’s attack on the Israelites. And even in our silliest of Purim costumes, we will blot out the name of evil, remembering the enemies from our past, as well as our current antagonists, with the hope that one day in the future, we will not have to worry about subsequent attacks on our people.
By Hazzan Jacob Sandler.
I was reading a compilation called “Torah Insights” to find some inspiration for a Thursday Thought. And there were a few different passages on Parashat Terumah and they all ultimately had the same lesson. The short version is: The Mishkan is beautiful, and helps us focus on our worship and service of God. However, God dwells among the people, not the place. And it is our actions that are paramount in inviting God’s presence into our reality.
One of the writers wrote about the coming of the Messiah who will rebuild the Temple. Some believe that Mashiach will come unconditionally. Others believe that the entire Jewish people needs to do some form of repentance. Maimonides reconciles the two saying “I believe with perfect faith in the coming of the Mashiach, and he will only come when the Jewish people repents” – meaning that logically, Maimonides has faith in the Jewish people to bring about the Mashiach. We should all strive to that faith, and we must all be active participants in bring about that miraculous redemption.
The second writer taught about the meaning of holiness. A Mikdash is a holy place – but he writes that it isn’t the place itself which is holy. It is the act of building it, and sanctifying it which makes it holy. We read God’s command, “make me a Mikdash, and I will dwell among them.” God, in His infinity, doesn’t dwell in the finite structures of the Mishkan. Rather by sanctifying our physical space, as we do with time through Shabbat and Holidays, we invite God into our lives. And he goes on to say that when Solomon builds the Temple, God’s presence is dependent on our following the Torah and mitzvot. What we do, what we build, how we act is what ultimately brings holiness into our being.
The third thinker noticed an odd verse about how the Mishkan walls stay standing. “The middle bar across the planks shall extend from end to end” the Torah states. According to Targum Yonatan, this plank was from Abraham’s tent – the quintessentially open and welcoming tent. The Mishkan contained the Ark of the Covenant and was designed according to Torah. It was used for Divine worship – Avodah. But the middle bar which helped it stand was a symbol of Abraham’s chesed – Gemilut Chasadim – loving kindness is also necessary. “The world stands on three things: Torah, Avodah and Gemilut Chasadim.” Another reminder that it is the kindness we show in our deeds that is key to unlocking God’s presence in our world, alongside study and prayer.
These are three different takes on our parashah, and each one is a call to beautify our world, invite God’s presence into our world, and create a sanctuary – and this requires thoughtful action, deeds of love and kindness, and the strength and faith to take the first step.
Some may call it a journey but I have called it my surge…I am referring to the constant energy and propulsion that has allowed me to rise in the past 16 months – the darkest of times-a time when so many want to fall.
This surge has driven my efforts in providing gatherings, rallies, vigils, and weekly hostage walks for our community.
This surge is also what took my husband and I to Israel this past summer at a time when many chose not to go-
I couldn’t fathom going anywhere else in the world – I only had it in my heart to travel to Israel. And so we went, we witnessed and volunteered. We came bome (miraculously) on the last flight out of Israel as the country was waiting imminently for Iran’s retaliation and all flights were cancelled.
Fast forward a couple months and I hear ruminations about a women’s trip to Israel through NSSBE-maintaining the same sentiment of only having a desire to be in Israel in my heart. I join the planning process and ultimately sign up – and then I ensure my husband is able to hold down the fort while I am away.
The surge is still there- it’s pushing me to go and bear witness to more atrocities from 10/7. Admittedly nervous to embark on what would be a very intense couple of days given the nature of our itinerary, I couldn’t imagine not being part of this incredible group of women who so perfectly represent NSSBE.
We bore witness to so much, listening and clinging to each word of the most devastating and detailed accounts of that tragic day. We stood in solidarity and cried on one another’s shoulders- we understood that it is now up to us to continue the surge by bringing these stories home with us and beyond. What will happen when the surge begins to diminish? I cannot bear to think of this – because for now as long as we have even a single hostage left in Gaza- we are not whole.
-Danielle Pearl
The power of this experience is still unfolding. What struck me most was the civic spirit of Israel- the way the whole country is pitching in and working together to take care of each other in spite of trauma, hardship, and political difference. Israel is embodying the idea that the way to heal trauma is through action. I truly felt that we are family and that “all of Israel is responsible for each other.”
-Ali Drumm
Every moment, we are connected. The town of Sderot had a mural next to the destroyed police station with a Torah on it, which was riddled by real bullet holes from the Oct 7 battle, and the letters floating up like in rabbi Akiva’s dream, which was connected to the Torahs that are stored at the Shura base and morgue, where they cleaned and identified the many bodies of young and old from kibbutzim and Nova, doing a sacred work and being a vessel for god, as they so respectfully said, where they also provide torahs to soldiers going into battle, and then we saw a soldier Elia at the Mechina from which he graduated, and though he started as a 14 year old in organized crime, he worked his way to becoming a soldier, and eventually was in a battle back at that town of Sderot where he alone, a 22 year old, fought off multiple terrorists that dark day and then went into Gaza, Lebanon, and Syria and finally to his goal of investment banking. To seeing the grave of Aner Shapira, to the megunit / bomb shelter where Aner saved Or Levy’s life, but lost his own, Or Levy was a hostage released while many of us had arrived and watched from hostage square, to sitting down with Aner’s parents on the last day of our trip and them giving their thanks for the torah cover from Beth El and letting us know they just had met with Or Levy so he could tell them about Aner’s bravery. To finding out my Uncle David, z”l died back here in Chicago while we had just met wounded soldiers at Sheba Tel HaShomer Hospital and me recognizing released hostage Moran Stella Yannai on the way out, and while telling her of our admiration for her strength and bravery, she gives me hug for my uncle. Our trip guide, Lyana, who was with us all four days, her niece is at Schechter with our 8th graders, and also by the way can she please show us the grave of her daughter’s boyfriend who died this past Rosh Hashanah in the war and is buried at Har Herzl. And on my own last day there when I said goodbye to my cousins, as Sagui Dekel-Chen was released and didn’t know for almost 500 days if his family, whom he had protected, had survived, but not only did they survive, but he had a new baby daughter, to my cousin’s best friend calling as I was leaving for the airport asking if he could stay in their guest room so he could visit Sagui, his best friend and give him a hug. While there are 15 million of us, our stories are connected, our history is the same, and our futures will be too.
-Sivan Schondorf
I attended the third day, as I wasn’t able to attend more (though Larry and I were in Israel for almost three weeks), I was very impressed with the dedication to Israel and the compassion and care shown by the attendees to those traumatized by October 7 they met on this journey. I know we will all continue to advocate for Israel, do all we can to assist in the ongoing and long healing process, and share our incredible experiences with our families, friends and other NSSBE congregants. Thanks to all who organized this incredible journey.
– Sandy Starkman
By Hazzan Jenna Greenberg.
Within the same week, we celebrate the holiday of Tu B’Shevat, the new year for the trees, and we read Parashat Yitro, a combination of 2 wonderful things that occur together nearly every year. Our Torah portion contains the dramatic experience of the Israelites receiving the 10 Commandments, those holy rules that remind us of how we should relate both with the divine and with our fellow human beings. Our holiday of Tu B’Shevat celebrates the birthday of the trees, mainly in Israel, where the first tiny saplings poke their heads out of the ground. And while not “rooted” in the Torah, the Mishnah (Rosh Hashanah 1:1) marks a Rosh Hashanah, a new year, for trees, to which, after some debate between the first and fifteenth of Shevat, the rabbis assigned the date of Tu B’Shevat, the 15th of the month of Shevat.
Just as Rosh Hashanah in Tishrei gives us a chance to spiritually start fresh in the new year, so “Tu” does Tu B’Shevat give us a chance to reconnect with nature. In the fall on Rosh Hashana, we spend a great deal of time reflecting on our relationship with God and others, the two main categories of relationships that the 10 Commandments deal with. From the first commandment that God is our one and only God…to the final commandment not to be jealous of our neighbors, and everything in between. Some of these commandments are voiced in the positive (like “Honor your parents”) and others in the negative (like “Don’t steal from others”).
This got me thinking about creating a list of 10 Commandments for Tu B’Shevat. On this holiday, there are several positive things we can do:
And some negative commandments to consider as well
Perhaps this week can give us all an opportunity to reconnect with nature, creating new goals for ourselves at this Jewish New Year of the Trees, this Tu B’Shevat.
What would YOUR 10 Commandments be for this environmentally focused holiday?
What a great opportunity to take a moment and make 10 nature-themed goals for yourselves for the coming year, to help better the earth, our home!
Tu B’Shevat Sameach!!
By Hazzan Jacob Sandler.
This week we read parashat Beshallach, a Torah portion near and dear to my heart. In it we read the dramatic conclusion of the escape from Egypt at the Sea of Reeds. When we reach the other side, the Torah teaches, “Az yashir moshe uv’nei Yisrael et haShira hazot…” So Moses and the Israelites sang this song AKA The Song of The Sea. This is the very first time that the word for singing/song is used in the entire Torah, and by extension the entire Tanakh (Hebrew Bible).
One line in this magnificent first song is exceedingly popular. We recite it every morning, and every evening in our liturgy, as part of the blessing after Shema. The words of “Mi Chamocha.”
מִי כָמֹכָה בָּאֵלִים | יְהֹוָה, מִי כָּמֹכָה נֶאְדָּר בַּקֹּדֶשׁ, נוֹרָא תְהִלֹּת עֹשֵׂה פֶלֶא
“Mi chamocha ba-elim Hashem? Mi kamocha ne’edar bakodesh – nora tehillot oseh feleh?”
Who is like You, Hashem among the [so-called] ‘gods’? Who is like You glorified in holiness, awesome in splendor, Maker of wonders?
This rhetorical question is answered in our Shabbat morning Torah service: “Ein Kamocha ba-elohim Hashem, ve’ein kema’asecha!” There is none like You in the godhead Hashem, and nothing like Your creation.
“Mi Chamocha” has inspired a lot of great musical settings – some we sing in the sanctuary and some that you might find on Jewish Rock Radio. Even Stephen Schwartz quoted this text in Prince Of Egypt – that movie is incredible by the way – the accuracy in visual and musical detail with regard to the Torah text and midrashic interpretation is astoundingly gorgeous and inspired. But I digress.
If you’re a spotify user, check out this playlist called “Mi Chamocha Jukebox” and hear for yourself how diverse the musical interpretations of this text can be. On it you’ll find household names like Rick Recht, Dan Nichols, Debbie Friedman and David Broza (who’s coming to Beth El by the way! May 15th! Be there!) alongside some younger artists I’m honored to call friends. You’ll hear pop, folk, traditional, americana and more. Listen to the way the melodies tell a different story about the text. Imagine the different services (morning and evening) or different audiences they wrote for. Listen also to the different original English lyrics or interpretive translations. If you find a favorite or one version that resonates with you, let me know! I’d be so interested to hear what it means to you. And if you’re so inclined, consider how you would sing these ancient words.
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6YipnsnNOAnWik1ZMjclje?si=0b2c10bfd01e4982
This is just a small sample, as I couldn’t even find every single tune I know on Spotify. But it’s a testament to how these words from the very first song we sang as a people – from Parashat Beshallach – have reverberated for thousands of years and are still inspiring us today.
1175 Sheridan Road, Highland Park, IL 60035 | (847) 432-8900 | nssbe@nssbethel.org |
Copyright © 2025. All rights reserved. Website designed by Addicott Web.
