By Rabbi Schwab.
Last week I traveled to Israel in a way I never have before. I mean that literally, in the sense that I was on the first direct United flight from Chicago to Israel since before the pandemic. But in a broader sense I am referring to the fact that I went to Israel with Hadassah to attend their annual conference in Jerusalem, a conference I had never attended before. I am so proud that we have incredible leaders from Beth El who helped organize, like Francine Ephraim, who is National Vice Coordinator of Hadassah’s Philanthropy Division and Michele Rubin, who is the National Youth Aliyah Chair. The energy and excitement at the conference was fantastic. They put together an amazing program, with great speakers like the President of Israel, Mayor of Jerusaelm, the American Ambassador to Israel and Rachel Polin. Every day we had excursions during which we learned and experienced so many wonderful and important things in Jerusalem. We were also there to witness the historic elections, the results of which Israel will be engaged in for weeks or months to come. I was honored to spend time with Rabbi and Bryna Kurtz as well as former Consul General Yinam Cohen and his wife Ayelet. While Israel faces many challenges, my visit continues to affirm what a beautiful, vibrant and special place it is and how lucky we are to live in a time that the State of Israel exists and is accessible.
Am Yisrael Chai.
By Rabbi Alex 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.
There is a wonderful book, written 25 years ago, by Wendy Mogul: The Blessing of a Skinned Knee: Using Jewish Teachings to Raise Self-Reliant Children. The book is geared to guide parents to help their kids to become more independent, especially when life throws them lemons or curveballs, like a skinned knee (or in my son’s case recently, a broken thumb!), with the added lens of Jewish tradition and values.
The theme of this book is great for parents and their kids, but it also can resonate for all ages, adults as well, which we can see in our Torah portion.
When it comes to this week’s parasha, Lekh L’kha begins with God telling Avram, in the first 3 verses: to go forth from his native land, from his birth place, from his father’s house, to a land that God will show him. God will make of Avram a great nation, and God will bless him; God will make Avram’s name great. And Avram shall be a blessing. God will bless those who bless Avram and curse the one who curses Avram; and all the families of the earth shall bless themselves by him.
These first three verses from our parasha seem fitting in the context of Mogul’s book, as God, the Ultimate Parent, speaks to our now adult patriarch Avram for the first time in the Torah, directing him to Lekh L’kha, to go forth, to an undisclosed destination. Avram does not yet know where to go, and yet has full trust in God who will show him guidance along his journey. Perhaps having trust or faith in others and in the Divine is a blessing in its own rite.
We read this story every year, and we know that many metaphorical curveballs and lemons get thrown in Avram’s way multiple times throughout the book of Breishit. We even know, from the third verse, that God does not prevent curses to come Avram’s way, but there will be consequences to those people. Curveballs still happen, even to our biblical patriarch.
We all know from our personal life experiences, that, at any age, when things go awry, it can be challenging to get through those moments. But perhaps as the saying goes, “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” We can grow through the difficult moments that cross our paths in our own lives. And hopefully we can find blessings, or silver linings, as we grow through life’s skinned knees and broken thumbs, figuring out how to adapt to keep moving forward.
May we all find blessings in both the positive moments and in the ones that challenge us as well.
Shabbat Shalom
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.
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