Chanukah is almost here! Let’s start now with Watch Me by Six13.
A time for rededication to who we are shining light into the darkness.
Chag Urim Sameach
Shabbat Shalom
Chanukah is almost here! Let’s start now with Watch Me by Six13.
A time for rededication to who we are shining light into the darkness.
Chag Urim Sameach
Shabbat Shalom
The manger scene of the Baby Jesus swaddled in a Keffiyeh has created much commotion and attention. Even though the Vatican has removed the display, the consciousness-raising alone means that the image has had the intended effect.
We are talking front and center through religion about the plight of the Palestinian people.
This is not the first time someone has reinterpreted something for their own purpose. I have seen many iterations of Jesus: white, very white, swarthy, black. Many religions that have Jesus at the center of their theology have him displayed realistically on the cross, his body cradled in his mother’s arms, lovingly gazing down upon us in a portrait or looking upwards in an icon. As a babe in mother’s arms, as a man spreading the Word, at a bountiful supper, and as a martyr. And now swaddled in a keffiyeh. We use religious symbols to motivate the audience toward a vision or narrative. This is frequently for good and exemplary purposes and too often for malicious purposes.
The charge that this current manger display is Antisemitic is a particular, not universally shared Jewish perspective. Some deliberately embrace that evil message. I am sure that was not the intent of the Pope or the Church. And if the manger is allowed to be a message of hatred, it will have failed miserably in its mission.
Raising awareness of the plight of the Palestinians is important. Christmas is an essential Christian symbol of God’s love and our hope. Peace on Earth and Goodwill towards men is the universal message of the extraordinary celebration.
Can this awareness-raising symbol be channeled into constructive forces to promote the welfare of the Palestinian people, who have been victimized for too long? It is time for the people of goodwill to lay down their arms and reach out across the divide to each other. May love supplant the hatred that has kept both sides at war for too long. May the promise of Christmas resound in that troubled place of Jesus’ birth so that two people learn to live together in peace and security.
Merry Christmas!
The wedding ritual of breaking the glass is central to the Jewish marriage ceremony. One meaning is to recall the destruction of Jerusalem. It reminds us that even in times of joy, we are reminded of sadness and brokenness.
I am ambivalent about this. Is it appropriate to remember sadness all the time? The answer is probably no. There is enough sadness in our world without being reminded of its presence; time enough to cry and too little time to celebrate. We should lean into the joy without any equivocation or hesitation.
Many people felt compelled during Thanksgiving to remind us of the less fortunate. While this is important as a thought, it is more important to translate it into positive action.
We should find joy in our moment, celebrating its beauty. And instead of lamenting another’s plight, we can do something positive. Even on the days after Thanksgiving, we can provide food for the hungry, bring clothing for the naked, and support shelters for the homeless. These are the positive experiences that will reinforce the true meaning of being thankful by sharing the blessings that we have with those who are less fortunate. So, this Thanksgiving and throughout the holiday season, embrace the joy. Wishing everyone a happy holiday.
There is an old joke that goes something like this:
The rabbi sees Mrs. Schwartz in the grocery store just before the High Holidays. He greets her as most rabbis would, “Mrs. Schwartz, it’s so good to see you. I look forward to seeing you in the synagogue for the High Holidays.”
She replies, “It’s good to see you, too, rabbi. But I don’t think I’ll be coming.”
“Oh,” said the rabbi, “I hope everything is alright. Why won’t you be there?”
“Well, rabbi,” she responds, “Every year, it’s the same old thing. We even read the same Torah portion.”
Although the joke isn’t particularly funny, it notes an essential part of our wisdom tradition; every time we read “Bereishit Bara Elohim” or any part of the Torah, it is different because we are different. Every time we engage in a text, our understanding differs from the last time. Our experiences shape and influence us and, therefore, also affect how we grasp the text. Our lives have evolved, and likely, the questions on our minds do, too. All of us have experienced the same thing differently. Let me explain.
Think about returning to a place you’d been before. Despite our expectations, we experience it differently this time around. The river is not the same water; our favorite book or movie reveals different secrets. Even my beloved childhood Twinkies do not taste the same.
A teacher of mine shared that the answers you get depend on the questions you ask. Our texts are treasure troves, just waiting for us to uncover the precious jewels they contain. The questions I ask in middle age are very different from the ones I asked as a young person. The issues I confront today in our current climate have me seeking answers to deeply troubling questions about meaning, seeking wisdom from this insightful tradition.
We begin again with the first words of the Torah. But what does it mean? How does the message resonate with you now?
This has been a challenging year for Jews. The Oct. 7 invasion of Israel, the war starting in Gaza and expanding into Lebanon, threats from Iran, deep political unrest, antisemitism cloaked as anti-Zionism/anti-Israel and unvarnished Jew-hatred appearing across this country and the world have most of us reeling. We are shaken to our core and struggling to figure out how we move forward. Our texts are compelling and filled with timeless wisdom, and we grapple with them this year in ways that we didn’t expect.
During the High Holidays, we are reminded that God understood the need to create a world that balanced Din and Rachamim, law and compassion. Midrashim share stories that this world was not God’s first attempt. Previous creations failed due to the heavy reliance on one or the other trait. Our stories also tell us that the Torah existed even before creation.
This leads me to an interesting thought. Perhaps even the divine approaches the Torah differently, learning from each encounter. Even the almighty learns from the Torah.
Moses once asked the eternal one what would happen to the wisdom once Moses was gone. God sweeps him into a class taught by the sage Rabbi Akiva. Moses is perplexed as nothing Akiva says seems familiar to him as he listens. And then, as if on cue, Akiva closes with, “And all of this comes from the Torah of Moses, our teacher. One of the fantastic parts of our tradition is the messages of core values that remain timeless even if the way they are practiced or understood evolves with the generations.
Our mystical stories talk of black fire and white fire, describing our sacred scrolls.
The words, the letters of the words and even the white spaces on the sacred text are opportunities for us to learn, using the holy text as a timeless source of knowledge, bounded only by our ability to comprehend it.
So, Mrs. Schwartz didn’t get it quite right. As we read the story of God’s creating, let us use this as a chance to see not an old story but as one of a new beginning, reading with fresh eyes, engaging it and asking the essential personal questions as the story of the world and the Jewish people continues to unfold.
Rabbi David Levin is the founder of the Jewish Relationships Initiative, which aims to help seekers of meaning through Jewish Wisdom in human relationships and end-of-life challenges. He is also vice president of the Board of Rabbis of Greater Philadelphia. The Board of Rabbis of Greater Philadelphia is proud to provide diverse perspectives on Torah commentary for the Jewish Exponent. The opinions expressed in this column are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the view of the Board of Rabbis.
We are about to begin the holiday of Sukkot. From My Jewish Learning, this is an overview of the holiday:
Beginning five days after Yom Kippur, Sukkot is named after the booths or huts (sukkot in Hebrew) in which Jews are supposed to dwell during this week-long celebration. According to rabbinic tradition, these flimsy sukkot represent the huts where the Israelites dwelt during their 40 years of wandering in the desert after escaping from slavery in Egypt. The festival of Sukkot is one of the three great pilgrimage festivals (chaggim or regalim) of the Jewish year.
Here is the link to the full article: https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/sukkot-101/
By using the Sukkah, we glimpse the experience of our vulnerability.
And this moment of vulnerability requires us to think of those held captive. We pray for and demand the release of the hostages.
We are told to eat at least one meal in the Sukkah. On a lovely fall evening, you can see the stars through the Skach, covering the top. But on cold or rainy evenings, it is another entirely different experience, and we certainly get the message of being vulnerable! (By the way, our great sage, Maimonides, suggests strongly that when it’s rainy, go inside!)
One of the interesting aspects of “dwelling in the Sukkah” is the ritual of inviting the Ushpizin. These are our revered forebears with whom we’d love to talk and glean some of their wisdom. It started with Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, Aaron, and King David. It is extended to include the great matriarchs Sarah, Miriam, Deborah, Hannah, Abigail, Huldah, and Esther. And it is a chance to broaden the guest list even further. I have invited loved ones, particularly my great-grandfather. Who is on your guest list?
In response to the 1973 Yom Kippur War and inspired by the Beatles, Let It Be, Naomi Shemer created Lu Yehi, Let it be.
This Shabbat, we continue to pray for the hostages to come home, and for the bloodshed to stop.
Shabbat Shalom
As we prepare to enter Shabbat, I pray for the Peace of Jerusalem,
A place and time where we can live together, honoring the humanity in all of us.
Thank you Cantor Rachel Brook for this moving rendition of our prayer.
Shabbat Shalom
On Monday evening, August 12, we begin the solemn remembrance of Tisha b’Av, the Ninth day of the Month of Av in the Jewish calendar.
This day marks the great disasters that have befallen the Jewish people: the destruction of the First and Second Temples and other catastrophes. It is a sad day, often a fast day, with prayers of lament, including chanting the Book of Lamentations known as Eicha.
As a people of history, we know persecution too well. AntiSemitism has become more out in the open and widespread. The current war has complicated our relationship with the world even further. There is even speculation that Iran will launch its reprisal attack on this date as a cruel, ironic twist to the ongoing hostilities.
It is a time to acknowledge and share in the sorrow and the martyrdom of so many of our brothers and sisters whose only crime was to be Jewish.
As we reflect on this somber moment, we also take heart in knowing that Am Yisrael Chai, The People of Israel, lives through it all.
You can listen to the chanting of Eicha with its haunting melody here:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z8RBrOiCy40
This Shabbat we continue to pray for peace.
My friend and colleague, Cantor Jennifer Duretz Peled, shared this prayer, Ein Milim- There are no words, hoping that the hostages will come home so they would enjoy the peace we envision every Shabbat.
Shabbat Shalom