OTHERWISE ENGAGED

Sermon for Yom Kippur morning 5786

October 2, 2025

Among the first pieces of liturgy that we recited in our service this morning was the blessing for Torah study.  You can find it on the bottom of page 329. The phrase used in that traditional blessing to describe that particular action is “la’asok bedivrei Torah”.  Our machzor translates this as “the mitzvah that words of Torah must occupy us in all we do each day.” 

That Hebrew root “Ayin-Samech-Koof” also has the sense of active give and take, of argument for the sake of coming to a better understanding.  The writers of the Talmud even described this act of occupying ourselves with Torah study as a veritable “war” ---  with scholars battling one another in an attempt to defend their own interpretations of ambiguous texts.

For example, in Tractate Megilah we learn:

״מְשִׁיבֵי מִלְחָמָה״ — שֶׁנּוֹשְׂאִין וְנוֹתְנִין בְּמִלְחַמְתָּהּ שֶׁל תּוֹרָה.

“Them that turn back the battle”; refers to those that give and take in their discussion of halakha in the battle of understanding the Torah.[1]

And in Tractate Berachot, Rabban Gamliel refers to those who “battle” in this “war of Torah” as

בַּעֲלֵי תְּרִיסִין

“masters of the shields”.[2] 

But the underlying ethos of those descriptions was that such heated debates were done with respect and humility.  In the well-known description in Pirke Avot, they were makhlekot lshem shamayim/  arguments for the sake of Heaven.

As we learn in Pirke Avot:

כָּל מַחֲלֹקֶת שֶׁהִיא לְשֵׁם שָׁמַיִם, סוֹפָהּ לְהִתְקַיֵּם. וְשֶׁאֵינָהּ לְשֵׁם שָׁמַיִם, אֵין סוֹפָהּ לְהִתְקַיֵּם

Every dispute that is for the sake of Heaven, will in the end endure; But one that is not for the sake of Heaven, will not endure. [3]

In our blessing for Torah study some prayerbooks translate the phrase “La’asok bedivrei torah” as “to ENGAGE with words of Torah. 

“Engagement” --- now that’s a loaded word!

It can mean emotional involvement or commitment, as when two people become engaged to get married.

Or it might imply a quite different scenario --- a hostile encounter, in the sense of a military engagement between opposing armies.  

Depending on the type of “engagement” we envision in any particular situation, we might sometimes find it more prudent to decline to engage  --- especially if the prospective “engagement” is unlikely to be a respectful, humble search for truth like the scholarly debates by the likes of Hillel and Shammai.

As the saying goes in the world of online forums – Don’t feed the trolls.

It often seems that that’s the best advice regarding online debates about Israel.

Trollish behavior! To my mind, that’s how I would characterize some of the hateful language we find online and in public discourse that accuses Israel of being a settler colonialist enterprise of white Europeans having no legitimate connection to the region and unworthy of existing. 

The war in Gaza, now almost two years old since that horrid day of mass terror perpetrated by Hamas and its fellow terrorists on October 7th, 2023, has given rise to an unprecedented level of hostility against Israel.  Israel was the victim of that attack, yet charges against Israel of committing genocide were already being thrown around within days of the Hamas attacks – weeks before the start of any Israeli military response.[4]

I hate talking about any of this because I know that doing so risks the sort of “engagement” that has more in common with war than with marriage.

Last year at Yom Kippur I barely addressed the topic before pivoting to the idea that it would be better for the health of our community to keep our opinions to ourselves.

As I said in my 2024 Kol Nidre sermon:

My inclination is to be a peace-maker – to put metaphorical band aids on our communal hurts and just give them time to heal on their own with the passage of time. I know this modus operandi does not work for all situations. But I really do appreciate band aids! And I pray that, as a congregation, as a society, as a world – we be graced with the ability and the opportunity to find common ground without insisting upon identical ground. 

That’s still my inclination.

The Jewish people are engaged with one another these days in fierce disagreement over the nature of Israel’s response to October 7th.  And increasingly the fight has escalated into a battle over the legitimacy of Zionism itself.

This is a very, very painful place for any Jew to find oneself in.

The issues are so close to one’s heart that arguing about them is likely to be destructive. 

Some Jews feel that other Jews are violating basic Jewish values by supporting Israel.

Other Jews feel that those who would abandon support for Israel are traitors to our people.

As for me, the connection between all of us here in the diaspora --- with the land, state and society of Israel is a fundamental core of my Jewish identity.

As the psalmist says:

If I forget you, O Jerusalem,
let my right hand wither;

let my tongue stick to my palate
if I cease to think of you,
if I do not keep Jerusalem in memory
even at my happiest hour.[5]

I was comforted by a recent essay by Jay Michaelson that appeared in the Jewish Forward in which he speaks to this situation:

It was an article of his published on September 22nd entitled:

“This Rosh Hashanah, give your rabbi a break”[6]

He writes:

Regardless of where their congregation stands politically, [Rabbis] are torn between right, left and center. If a shul is left-leaning, it’s between the anti-Zionists on one side and the pro-Israel centrists on the other. If the shul is right-leaning, it’s between the bring-them-home-now folks who support Israel but want a swift end to the war and the Israel hawks who want to keep fighting until Hamas is destroyed.

Even if the congregation has found ways to accommodate nuance, complexity and disagreement, I know rabbis who can’t say what they believe because they’ll alienate an active member, or a donor, or a schmendrik with a loud voice. Did the rabbi condemn the loss of innocent lives in Gaza and the fact that Hamas is still holding innocent Israeli hostages? Which did she do first? Did he make a false equivalence between the two sides? If so, which side should she have favored? Did the prayer for the state of Israel come before the prayer for peace, or after? Did the rabbi come out against the war too soon, too late, or never?

A bit later in the piece he writes: 

Rabbis are afraid to say anything, but also afraid to say nothing. They, like the rest of us, feel some degree of ambivalence — a majority of American Jews support the state of Israel, but oppose the practices of the Netanyahu government. Already, without getting into the topics of food distribution networks and the biases of major media outlets, that’s complicated.

And yet, rabbis tell me, even a single misstep to the right or to the left invites criticism that, really, should have no place in a synagogue community.

But my favorite part of his essay comes towards the end when he offers this observation:

For a long time, I found it preposterous when people didn’t address the proverbial ‘elephant in the room.’ We’re all thinking about it, I’d say to myself, so why not say it?

Now, let’s just say I have a new appreciation for elephants in the room, and simply letting them sit there. The Israel/Palestine elephant is just too hard to talk about in the ways that we usually talk about things. It is too fraught for ordinary discourse, let alone vituperative tweets and emails.

And some of this is actually a good thing. It’s good to have strong opinions about a defining moral issue of our time, and, again, I’m not saying we shouldn’t have those opinions, or shouldn’t protest, debate, or take action on the basis of them. Absolutely, the pursuit of justice (as we perceive it) is a moral and Jewish imperative.

But sometimes, in some times and places, the best thing to do is, as the kids say, to STFU for the sake of shalom bayit [domestic harmony]. I want to suggest that congregational life is often not the best venue for vitriolic political debates, precisely because we are so close to one another. And I especially want to suggest that it’s unhelpful to expect our rabbis and cantors to share and demonstrate our political views. We share many other things: our lives, religions, communities, and many though not all of our values. That is more important than ‘taking a stand’ in a way that, definitionally, will exclude some even as it includes others.

Let me offer a caveat here: I think we in this congregation have been doing a good job during these past two years of remaining in community and friendship with one another during times when we could just as well be at each other’s throats over conflicting views about Israel. 

And I firmly believe that it should continue to be the case that there are no political litmus tests for being counted as beloved members of this congregation.

******

There is a traditional teaching in Judaism that we should not utter a blessing in vain.  In particular, if we say a blessing involving the formula “asher kidshanu bemitzvotav vetzivanu” / “who has sanctified us with Divine commandments and commanded us to do such and such action --- then whatever that specific action is that we’re mentioning at the  end of that blessing    ----  we should immediately go ahead and do it. 

The traditional understanding of “la’asok bedivrei Torah”/ “engaging with words of Torah – is that one can do so by turning to study texts not only from the written Torah (i.e. the five books of Moses), but also from the so-called Oral Torah (i.e., the Talmud and other classic Jewish texts).

In traditional prayer books one of the most well-known classic Jewish texts that is recited in response to the blessing for Torah study is the passage from the Talmudic tractate Masechet Shabbat that lists various types of virtuous deeds that bring merit to us both in this world and beyond.

Let’s turn to the bottom of page 331 to read it again together, as we did earlier this morning:

These are acts and words whose fruit we can enjoy both in this world and store up in the cornucopia of the world to come; honoring father and mother, deeds of lovingkindness, regular attendance at the house of study, hospitality to strangers, visiting the sick, giving support to new brides and bridegrooms, honoring the dead by attending the funeral, sincerity in prayer, and making peace with one another.  Equivalent to them all is the study of Torah which motivates us to perform the rest.[7]

I find myself obsessed these days with the part about “making peace with one another.”   -- or, in the original Hebrew --   הֲבָאַת שָׁלוֹם שֶׁבֵּין אָדָם לַחֲבֵרוֹ.

I pray for peace and reconciliation in the world at large --- especially between Israelis and Palestinians. 

But no less important to me is that we continue to the best of our abilities to have peace and friendship amongst ourselves.

At any rate, that’s my focus as your rabbi.

Tzom kal u’gmar chatimah tovah/ May the remaining hours of the Yom Kippur fast be easy for those of us observing that tradition – and may we all be inscribed and sealed for a good year.  A year of peace and good fortune for us, for all Israel, and for all the world.

Amen.

© Rabbi David Steinberg

October 2025/ Yom Kippur 5786

[1] Megillah 15b:4 with Connections

[2] Berakhot 27b:16 with Connections

[3] Pirkei Avot 5:17

[4] https://jewishcurrents.org/a-textbook-case-of-genocide

[5] Psalms 137: 5-6

[6] https://forward.com/opinion/771133/why-you-should-give-your-rabbi-a-break-this-rosh-hashanah/

[7] Shabbat 127a (slightly paraphrased)

AMONG THE BOUNDARY CROSSERS 2025

Sermon for Kol Nidre Night 5786

October 1, 2025

Just before we sang Kol Nidre this evening, we included a short Hebrew paragraph (on p. 252 of our machzorim) to which the editors of our machzor have given the title “Permission.”

The key phrase in that “Permission” paragraph is “Anu matirin lehitpalel im avaryanim”  -- which literally means “We grant permission to pray with transgressors.” 

That word “avaryanim”/”transgressors” is built on the Hebrew root letters ayin-vet-resh.  A related word “aveyra” means transgression.

In English, of course, this all has a negative connotation.  However, other Hebrew words built on that same verbal root have a more neutral or even positive connotation.

La’avor (from the same Hebrew root ayin-vet-resh) simply means “to pass” – to go from one place to another.

And that brings us to the first Jew:  Abraham.  Abraham is described in Genesis chapter 14 as “Avram ha-Ivri” --- Abraham the Hebrew.

What does this adjective “Hebrew”  --- “Ivri” (built from that same Hebrew root ayin-vet-resh) have to do with Abraham?

Abraham, in the words of the classic midrash, was called “ha-ivri”, “the Hebrew,” because he stood “meyever”/ “on the opposite side”.

As it says in Bereshit Rabbah:  רַבִּי יְהוּדָה אוֹמֵר כָּל הָעוֹלָם כֻּלּוֹ מֵעֵבֶר אֶחָד וְהוּא מֵעֵבֶר אֶחָד.

“Rabbi Yehudah says, all the world [stood] on one side while [Abraham stood] on the opposite side.”[1]

He was steadfast in standing up for his beliefs even if that put him mey’ever echad/ on one side of a philosophical divide while the whole world stood mey’ever echad/ across from him on the other side of the philosophical divide.

But, in the context of his times, Abraham was also an Avaryan/ a transgressor.  He was an idol smasher who transgressed from the status quo.

And God approved.

Fast forward a few centuries and the latter books of the Torah talk a lot about crossing over the Jordan River as, for example, in Torah portion Nitzavim, where Moses refers to

הָאֲדָמָה, אֲשֶׁר אַתָּה עֹבֵר אֶת-הַיַּרְדֵּן, לָבוֹא שָׁמָּה לְרִשְׁתָּהּ

the land that you are crossing the Jordan to enter and possess.[2]

All this reminds us that, as Jews, we are boundary crossers – like Abraham and Sarah when they left their native land to go forth to a land that God would show them.

Like the generation that grew up in the wilderness of Sinai after their parents had gone forth from Egypt – and who, at the end of the Torah, were about to cross over the Jordan River into the Promised Land.

And indeed, like the majority of Jewish Americans, including yours truly, whose ancestors, or who themselves, crossed oceans and national boundaries to this country seeking freedom from oppression and economic opportunity.

Speaking of Parashat Nitzavim, many Reform and Reconstructionist congregations read from Parshat Nitzavim  for their Yom Kippur morning Torah reading, instead of the traditional reading from Parashat Acharei Mot that we will read in our own Torah service tomorrow morning.

That alternative Torah reading option is actually included in our machzor.

Let’s all turn to page 443 right now and read the English translation of that first paragraph of Parashat Nitzavim out loud together:

You stand today – all of you – before Adonai your God: your leaders, your tribes, your elders, your officials, every man, woman, and child in Israel, the stranger in the midst of your camp, form the one who chops your wood to the one who draws your water, that you may enter into the sworn covenant of Adonai your God which Adonai your God is confirming with you this very day, for the purpose of establishing you as the people whose only God is Adonai, as you have been promised, and as God swore to your father, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob.  But it is not only with you that I am making this sworn covenant, but with whoever is standing here with us today before Adonai your God, and with whoever is not here with us today.[3]

From just this first paragraph, we can readily see why the Reform and later the Reconstructionist movements included this passage as an alternative Yom Kippur morning Torah reading.

The reading from Parashat Nitzavim emphasizes the idea of inclusion, of everyone being part of the process, not just an elite few.  While the traditional Torah reading in Leviticus focuses on one High Priest making atonement on behalf of everyone else in the community, this alternative Torah reading has a much more democratic focus.  Look at the way it starts:

“You stand today – all of you – before Adonai your God”

and the passage then goes on to include every single person in society – men, women and children; community leaders and common folk; citizens and resident aliens; present attendees and future generations. All are to be included in the transmission of Torah and in the establishment of a covenant with God.  

It’s especially noteworthy in the Torah’s language in Parashat Nitzavim that it explicitly includes  גֵ֣רְךָ֔ אֲשֶׁ֖ר בְּקֶ֣רֶב מַחֲנֶ֑יךָ מֵחֹטֵ֣ב עֵצֶ֔יךָ עַ֖ד שֹׁאֵ֥ב מֵימֶֽיךָ “gerkha asher bekerev machanekha --  meychoteyv eytzekha ad sho’eyv meymekha”/ .  “the stranger in the midst of your camp, from the one who chops your wood to the one who draws your water.” 

The traditional rabbinic interpreters identify these woodchoppers and water carriers as Canaanites who came to the Israelite camp claiming that they wished to convert to Judaism.  Rashi, following the lead of the Talmud, argues that Moses doubted their sincerity, yet agreed to let them stay and assigned them menial labor tasks like chopping wood and drawing water.

It would behoove us not to gloss over the implications of this:  We seem to have here a recognition that mistrust of foreigners has a long pedigree in Jewish tradition.  This is a trait that we ought to combat within ourselves even as we recognize how easily we can succumb to it. 

Let us remember the contemporary counterparts to these ancient woodchoppers and water carriers: The people from Mexico, El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras Venezuela and elsewhere who struggle for a secure foothold for themselves and their families in a strange new land. 

A February 2025 article from the PBS Newshour website includes the following information about immigration status:

Most immigrants are in the U.S. legally. About 49 percent have become U.S. citizens by a process known as naturalization. Another 19 percent hold lawful permanent resident status and are eligible to become U.S. citizens through naturalization. Still another 5 percent are in the country on temporary visas, like those for international students, diplomats and their families, and seasonal or temporary workers.

The remaining 27 percent – around 13.7 million people – are outside those categories and therefore generally considered to be undocumented.[4]

13.7 million people!  That’s a lot!  How should our country handle that situation?

Americans of goodwill may, and do, differ on the specifics of how best to construct a fair immigration policy for our country --- how to balance ideals of our country as a place of opportunity, with the concern for security of our borders and the economic health of our society.  

Nevertheless, our tradition calls upon us to remember the strangers in our midst --- the choppers of wood and drawers of water who stood with us in our journey to freedom.  Responding to that call today, we must make sure that our legitimate concern with protecting our borders does not lead to the oppression of aliens within our borders who are struggling for existence.  And, in particular, our efforts to enforce existing immigration laws need to be humane and respectful of due process.

As I’m sure you’re aware, issues around immigration law enforcement have in recent months become among the most divisive issues our society faces. 

Indeed, even a popular entertainment like the new Superman film that I mentioned on Erev Rosh Hashanah elicited some spirited political arguments with those on the right accusing it of being “woke” because it allegedly emphasized Superman having been an immigrant – and an undocumented one at that![5]

My colleague Rabbi Elyse Wechterman has been very actively involved in advocacy work around these issues.  Here is an excerpt from her contribution to an anthology edited by Rabbi Arthur Waskow which will be published later this month by the Shalom Center.

The book is entitled Handbook for Heretics and Prophets: A New Torah for a New World.  

Here is some of what Rabbi Wechterman has to say in that upcoming publication:

She writes:

וְגֵ֥ר לֹא־תוֹנֶ֖ה וְלֹ֣א תִלְחָצֶ֑נּוּ כִּֽי־גֵרִ֥ים הֱיִיתֶ֖ם בְּאֶ֥רֶץ מִצְרָֽיִם׃

 “You shall not wrong or oppress a stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”

Thirty-six times the Torah tells us not to wrong or oppress the stranger, but rather to welcome the stranger.  In nearly half of those mentions, it provides a reason, “for you were strangers in the land of Mitzrayim.” Rarely is a reason provided for the many mitzvot (commandments) in the Torah. And while repetition is not particularly unusual - the entire Book of Deuteronomy reiterates much of what had been commanded in the previous three books - 36 mentions seems a bit excessive. Why?

Lest we assume that these mentions reflect a particularly warm and welcoming nature among our ancestors, it behooves us to remember that laws are most often created only after there has been a failure to uphold societal norms without the force of law. Perhaps our ancestors were just as clannish, just as tribal, just as fearful of the outsider as most humans have been throughout history. The repetition of this law - thirty-six times - may reflect an inability or resistance to welcoming others that lies deep within the human psyche.  Contemporary reality provides ample evidence to support the thesis.    

Instead of repetition, what might be needed is explication - a detailed explanation of what not oppressing the stranger might look like. Perhaps these thirty-six admonitions can guide us:

[SHE THEN PRESENTS 36 ADMONITIONS – I’ll JUST SHARE WITH YOU THE FIRST TWELVE OF THEM]

1.     Do not oppress the stranger: Do not yank an immigrant out of his workplace without a warrant, without due process, and without access to legal representation. 

2.     Do not oppress the stranger: Do not detain a stranger who is the sole income earner for his family, depriving his wife and children of any means of support.

3.     Do not oppress the stranger: Do not violently pull an immigrant out of his vehicle, wrenching his arm and banging his head, and deny him medical care.

4.     Do not oppress the stranger: Do not pull over, harass, detain, and threaten people who have an accent, speak a “foreign” language, or who have a darker complexion than you do on the assumption that they are here illegally.  That is called racial profiling. 

5.     Do not oppress the stranger: Do not detain a person who has committed no crime and is not accused of committing a crime.

6.     Do not oppress the stranger: Do not detain a person because they have a similar name as someone for whom there is a warrant. 

7.     Do not oppress the stranger: Do not label people “illegal,” for no human, created in God’s image, could possibly be illegal.

8.     Do not oppress the stranger: Do not inanely and without merit accuse visitors to your country of stealing your jobs.

9.     Do not oppress the stranger: Do not inanely and without merit accuse newly arrived people to your country of using up your social service resources and draining taxpayer dollars. 

10.Do not oppress the stranger: Do not accuse visitors to your country - those you invited here after a natural or political disaster in their home country - of eating their neighbors' dogs. 

11.Do not oppress the stranger: Do not ignore the first, fifth, and fourteenth amendments to your constitution to illegally, immorally, and unconstitutionally detain and deport people.

12.Do not oppress the stranger: Do not offer huge rewards and financial incentives to citizens to join a Gestapo police force that wantonly disregards the human and civil rights of the people they encounter.

[AT THE CONCLUSION OF THAT EXHAUSTIVE LIST, RABBI WECHTERMAN WRITES:]

“Not a single one of these admonitions is made up.  Laws are written after the norms have already been broken.  This is what is happening.  The Torah of immigration is simple - this must stop.  “Do not oppress the stranger” is repeated 36 times - twice the number 18 - the number that stands for life. Two lives are saved if one follows the commandment: the physical life of the stranger, and the spiritual life of the welcomer. Because not following torah risks our very souls. “ [6]

And yet, our current tense national state of affairs reminds us that there are always two (or more) sides to any story. When I was first thinking about addressing the topic of immigration in a High Holiday sermon, I asked my colleagues for some “talking points” about how – and these were my words -_

“about how awful the Trump administration’s treatment of foreigners in the US is (whether asylum seekers, undocumented folks, or green card holders who dare to espouse unpopular views, or even citizens swept up in racially-profiling ICE raids).”

That’s how I framed my query in a couple of my rabbi listserves.

I’m grateful to my colleague Elyse Wechterman for her impassioned advocacy and for the powerful prose that she shared with me in response to my query. 

But I also heard from other colleagues who cautioned me not to be one sided in my approach to divisive issues. 

So, I also want to share with you another message that I received from another rabbi colleague who serves a congregation in the South.  Here’s what he wrote to me:  

He wrote:

“I really do consider myself blessed to serve a purple congregation. And a congregation with people who have careers in lots of fields - including ICE. My ICE agent [congregant] is a Puerto Rican, liberal woman [who] has taught me so much. 

“Without sharing any names or specific details, I asked her simply about [your] sermon idea. Here is her response. […] Thought it might be interesting for you to see – not [necessarily] to agree with - but to get an ICE agent’s thoughts. 

[AND SO MY COLLEAGUE THEN SHARED WITH ME WHAT HIS ICE AGENT CONGREGANT SHARED WITH HIM AFTER HE HAD SHARED WITH HER MY SERMON IDEA.  SHE WRITES:]

Hi Rabbi. I’ll start with, this sermon idea points out how awful the administration treats foreigners. That right there is false. This administration is following immigration law. I understand as a Jew we must welcome the stranger. In reality not all strangers are good people.

As for racial profiling, people are having a difficult time understanding Immigration policy. There is always collateral damage. Meaning when serving warrants if you come into contact with another person ([or] people), you must determine if they are here legally or not. If they are not, they will be arrested or detained until further info can be found. For those with visas, or legal resident status; immigration law is clear. They must remain clear of any criminal convictions, any propaganda or harmful intent against citizens or the government. Immigration law can be complicated case by case, but Immigration law is clear.

You entered illegally you have broken Federal immigration laws.

You commit fraud to enter or remain in the USA you have broken federal law.

You don’t show up to a scheduled Immigration hearing you are deported in absentia.  An Immigration Warrant is issued. Signed by the Immigration judge. therefore due process.

An expedited removal is an agreement between the Illegal alien & US government that they will not return to the US for 5 years. If they come back it’s ten years.

Rabbi I can go on and on and on.

There will be no changes until everyone realizes we need to work together for a better future here in the US & everywhere. I’m taking a social media break. The craziness on both sides is too much.

-------

So, there you have it. 

Some thoughts from both sides of the political divide on questions of immigration law enforcement.

For us, during these tumultuous times, I’d say we still need to be vigilant about recognizing our common humanity with immigrants to our country – whatever their legal status may be in terms of documentation.  And we need to be vigilant about demanding that there be due process in the enforcement of our country’s laws. 

And we have to remember that, as Jews, we were once strangers in a strange land  and that, as the Torah teaches, we must love not just our neighbor, but we must love the stranger as well.[7]

Millions of individuals in our country are undocumented.  But, as for many of our own family immigration histories – we could easily say “there but for the grace of God go I.”

The details get complicated.  But, as we well know, life is complicated.

In the meantime, may we be inscribed and sealed in the book of life and may our sins be forgiven.   And may justice be wedded with compassion in our world at large.

Amen.

© Rabbi David Steinberg

(October 2025/ Yom Kippur 5786)

[1] Bereshit Rabbah 42:8 רַבִּי יְהוּדָה אוֹמֵר כָּל הָעוֹלָם כֻּלּוֹ מֵעֵבֶר אֶחָד וְהוּא מֵעֵבֶר אֶחָד.

[2] Deuteronomy 30:18

[3] Deuteronomy 29: 9-14 as translated by Rabbi Richard N. Levy, in On Wings of Awe (revised edition),  KTAV Publishing House in Association with Hillel: The Foundation of Jewish Campus Life (2011), p. 443

[4] https://www.pbs.org/newshour/nation/analysis-who-are-the-immigrants-who-come-to-the-u-s-heres-the-data

[5] https://www.nbcnews.com/pop-culture/pop-culture-news/superman-movie-james-gunn-slammed-as-woke-rcna217653

[6] Rabbi Elyse Wechterman in Handbook for Heretics and Prophets: A New Torah for a New World.   (forthcoming from The Shalom Center: https://theshalomcenter.org/92books#92booksregistration )

[7] See Leviticus 19:18 and 19:34

A MOODY SEASON

Sermon for First Morning of Rosh Hashanah 5786

September 23, 2025

The Talmud, in Masechet Ta’anit 29a teaches: When the month of Av begins, one decreases acts of rejoicing. Rav Yehuda, son of Rav Shmuel bar Sheilat, said in the name of Rav: Just as when Av begins one decreases rejoicing, so too when the month of Adar begins, one increases rejoicing.

So, what that Talmudic passage is saying is that when Adar begins, in late winter, we are supposed to increase our joy because of the approach of Purim, arriving on the 14th of the month of Adar. Purim, as you may recall, recounts a tale of how the Jews of Shushan (present day Iran) overcame a genocidal plot against them.

In contrast, when the month of Av begins, in the middle of the summer, we are supposed to decrease our joy because of the approach of Tisha B’Av, the 9th of Av, the anniversary of the destruction of the first and second Temples in Jerusalem, each of those actual historical events having led to massive death and displacement of our ancestors.

What about when the month of Tishrei begins?  Today, Rosh Hashanah, is after all the start of the month of Tishrei as well as being the start of the Jewish New Year 5768.

Should we be “increasing our joy?”

But Rosh Hashanah is not a big party time --- like Purim is – or like our secular New Year.

Should we be “decreasing our joy?”

But Rosh Hashanah is not a sad and mournful time – as is Tisha B ‘Av or, as is, among contemporary Jewish observances, Yom Hasho’ah/Holocaust Remembrance Day. 

And so, how are we all feeling today?

I saw a meme on Facebook the other day that had this to say:

“Someone asked if I was ready for the fall and it took me a second to realize they meant autumn and not the total collapse of society.”[1]

Notwithstanding such understandable sentiments, I’d say that with the arrival of Rosh Hashanah – which for us also coincides with the arrival of the fall season  --- it’s not a time for fatalism and pessimism:  It surely IS a thoughtful time and a serious time. But, most profoundly, my sense is that Jewish tradition encourages us to see this season as a HOPEFUL time.

As we read in one of our closing readings yesterday evening,

Now all things are possible:

For the New Year we have found each other

Arm in arm beneath the nurturing night,

Welcoming the day on which the world itself began,

The day which reunites our people in their ancient task:

Messengers of light before the darkness,

Messengers of peace before the world.

We are meant to be full of hope today!

Since this particular Jewish holiday starts on the first day of the Hebrew month in which it is taking place, any spiritual, psychological or emotional preparation we might make for it would come prior to that month.

And that is indeed the case.

I mentioned earlier that we learn from the Talmud that when Av begins (as it did two months ago on the Hebrew calendar) we decrease our joy, given the approach of the 9th day of that month, Tisha B’Av.  But already on the afternoon of Tisha B’Av, as that day is coming to a close, the mood starts to change.  Tradition teaches that a future messiah will be born in the concluding hours of Tisha B’Av.  And beginning with the first Shabbat after Tisha B’Av, we commence a series of seven so called “Sabbaths of Comfort” or “Sabbaths of Consolation”.  During these seven Shabbatot we have haftarah readings from the second half of the Book of Isaiah that emphasize the mood of hopefulness, all leading up to Rosh Hashanah  ---  all leading up to today.

And so, if you were wondering today how we ought to be feeling as we gather here today --- amidst all the crises and challenges we face in our personal lives and in society at large – Jewish tradition counsels us that today is an occasion for being full of hope for the future:

If you attended Shabbat morning services on any of the past seven Saturday mornings, these are some of those messages of hope that you heard chanted in Hebrew during those Seven Sabbaths of Comfort (but I’ll give you the English translations here):

O thou that tellest good tidings to Zion, Get thee up into the high mountain; O thou that tellest good tidings to Jerusalem, Lift up thy voice with strength; Lift it up, be not afraid; Say unto the cities of Judah: 'Behold your God!' (Isaiah 40:9 – in the Haftarah for Parashat Va’etchanan)

Look back to Abraham your father and to Sarah who brought you forth.
For he was only one when I called him, But I blessed him and made him many.  Truly GOD has comforted Zion, Comforted all her ruins— Made her wilderness like Eden, Her desert like the Garden of the Eternal. Gladness and joy shall abide there, Thanksgiving and the sound of music. ' (Isaiah 51: 1-2  – in the Haftarah for Parashat Ekev)

All your children shall be disciples of the Eternal
And great shall be the happiness of your children;

You shall be established through righteousness.
You shall be safe from oppression, and unafraid
safe from terror -- it shall not come near you. ' (Isaiah 54: 13-14 – in the Haftarah for Parashat Re’eh)

And from the haftarah for Parashat Nitzavim, which we read just this past Saturday morning:

I will recount GOD’s kind acts,
GOD’s praises—
For all that GOD has wrought for us,
The vast bounty to the House of Israel
That was bestowed upon them
According to God’s mercy and great kindness. (Isaiah 63:7 )

But I’d like to go back now to speaking about Purim.  You may have heard the famous pun that Yom Kippur (which in the Torah is referred to as Yom HaKippurim) is Yom Ki Purim --- A Day like Purim. 

Maybe I’ll speak more about that next week when we gather for Yom Kippur.

But Rosh Hashanah is also a day that evokes Purim.  How so?  Take a look at our liturgy --- The Amidah for Rosh Hashanah includes an extended special section within its third blessing that expresses hopes for a better future, each of these hopes being introduced by the Hebrew word “UVECHEN” which means “AND THEREFORE”  [You can see all that on pages 143 through 146 of our machzor]

The 14th century Spanish Jewish commentator Rabbi David Abudarham noted that that exclamation “AND THEREFORE”/ “UVECHEN” reminds us of what Queen Esther says in Megillat Esther that we read on Purim.

Esther, faced with the news that her people are being threatened with genocide by the evil court official Haman decides that she must advocate for her people to her husband, King Achashverosh, and, in doing so, to reveal that she is a Jew, a fact that she had hidden from him up until that point. That was a potentially fatal step because it was against the law to approach the King without having been summoned.

But nevertheless, Esther bravely decides to go through with it, declaring:

וּבְכֵ֞ן אָב֤וֹא אֶל־הַמֶּ֙לֶךְ֙ אֲשֶׁ֣ר לֹֽא־כַדָּ֔ת וְכַאֲשֶׁ֥ר אָבַ֖דְתִּי אָבָֽדְתִּי׃

 “THEREFORE” – I shall go to the king, though it is contrary to the law; and if I am to perish, I shall perish!  (Esther 4:16)

Abudarham and other commentatos connect Esther’s “UVECHEN” / “AND THERFORE” with our repeated exclamation of “UVECHEN”/ “AND THEREFORE” in the High Holiday versions of the third blessing of the Amidah.

As the comment in the Metsudah Machzor explains:

If Esther who had fasted for three days in penitence and prayer in preparation for her appearance before the king was nevertheless so terribly frightened that she declared: וְכַאֲשֶׁ֥ר אָבַ֖דְתִּי אָבָֽדְתִּי וּבְכֵן אָבוֹא אֶל הַמֶּלֶךְ אֲשֶׁר לֹא כַדָּת ” (“And [therefore] I will go into the king, even if it is unlawful, and if I am to perish, I shall perish!”) then we should certainly tremble in awe before the presence of Hashem on this Day of Judgment, knowing deep in our hearts how little and how poorly we have prepared ourselves. Thus our Sages ordained that we open the prayers with the word וּבְכֵן [“and therefore”] recalling the words of Esther; therewith shattering our delusions of spiritual complacency, and causing us to bow before [God] with broken hearts and tear-filled eyes.[2]

Still, I would prefer to understand that exclamation – UVECHEN – in a more optimistic light:

If you break that word, “UVECHEN” down into its component parts you get – U (“and”) VE (“with”) CHEN (a “YES”)  .  UVECHEN – AND WITH A YES!

YES!

YES! --- We look to a brighter future of a more just society.

YES! – We look to a time of peace and harmony.

YES! – We look to a time of understanding and friendship

We well understand that our hopes might not be realized tomorrow, or the next day, or even in the next year, or even in the next generation  -- but we’re still called upon to put the vision out there. 

And so Rosh Hashanah, this day that we mark as the Birthday of the World, may it also be for us a Birthday of Hope.

Rosh Hashana is indeed a “day like Purim” in all its aspects --- a day of hope and a day of awe – as we approach the big questions of the day.

And so, how are we all feeling today?

Is our joy increasing?  (like tradition says it should be in the month of Adar)

Is our joy decreasing?  (like tradition says it should be in the month of Av)

Is our hope increasing? (like tradition says should have been the case during these past seven weeks?)

Is our mood one of bravery tinged with fatalism like Queen Esther before she was sure of a happy ending?

Perhaps all of these….

No doubt we live in a stressful, complex time.

But amidst all the mayhem, let us keep our spirits up and continue to look to God, however we might understand God, and let us continue to look to one another for support and encouragement.  

YES!

L’shanah tovah tikatevu --- May we be inscribed for a better year to come.

© Rabbi David Steinberg (2025/5786)

[1] https://www.facebook.com/1211106/posts/10117010481016493/?rdid=Ib8D5VaJZnuxgbrB#

[2] Machzor Rosh Hashanah Ashkenaz Linear, Maariv, Amidah 53 with Connections (Slightly adapted for clarity. See hyperlink to note 36 there)

HAPPY SQUIRRELY NEW YEAR

Sermon for Erev Rosh Hashanah 5786

September 22, 2025

Happy New Year!

I’m so glad that everyone is here this evening to celebrate the Jewish New Year. 

However, and I hesitate to tell you this, but if you search carefully through every single word of the Torah, you will not find a single mention of the 1st day of Tishrei being Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. 

But please don’t rush off!  I can still assure you we didn’t all get the date mixed up!

Let me try to clarify this confusion:

It is true that the first mention in the Torah of what we now observe as Rosh Hashanah does not characterize it as a new year festival at all. 

Rather, what the Torah says at Leviticus 23:23-24 is this: 

 וַיְדַבֵּ֥ר יְהוָ֖ה אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֥ה לֵּאמֹֽר׃

“Adonai spoke to Moses, saying:

 דַּבֵּ֛ר אֶל־בְּנֵ֥י יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל לֵאמֹ֑ר בַּחֹ֨דֶשׁ הַשְּׁבִיעִ֜י בְּאֶחָ֣ד לַחֹ֗דֶשׁ יִהְיֶ֤ה לָכֶם֙ שַׁבָּת֔וֹן זִכְר֥וֹן תְּרוּעָ֖ה

מִקְרָא־קֹֽדֶשׁ׃

 “Speak to the Israelite people thus: In the seventh month, on the first day of the month, you shall observe complete rest, a sacred occasion commemorated with ‘TERU’AH’”

The word “teru’ah” is translated there in the Jewish Publication Society Tanakh as “loud blasts”. 

And a similar reference in Numbers 29, which is our maftir reading for both mornings of Rosh Hashanah, describes this day as being

מִֽקְרָא־קֹ֙דֶש...י֥וֹם תְּרוּעָ֖ה

 “a sacred occasion… a day of TERUAH”

which the Jewish Publication Society translates there as “a day when the horn is sounded.”

But no mention of these loud blasts --- or of this sounding of the horn --- as being connected with any sort of New Year festival. 

Indeed, you may recall that the very first mitzvah in the Torah that is applicable to the Jewish people as a people is the mitzvah that God proclaims to Moses and Aaron just before that first Passover when we leave Egypt.  And what is that mitzvah?  As it says in Exodus 12:2 –

הַחֹ֧דֶשׁ הַזֶּ֛ה לָכֶ֖ם רֹ֣אשׁ חֳדָשִׁ֑ים רִאשׁ֥וֹן הוּא֙ לָכֶ֔ם לְחָדְשֵׁ֖י הַשָּׁנָֽה׃

“This month shall mark for you the beginning of the months; it shall be the first of the months of the year for you.”  

And, of course they are talking there about Nisan – the month at the start of spring when we celebrate Passover.  That’s the month that the Torah consistently identifies as the first month of the year.

Admittedly, elsewhere in the Torah, the beginning of every month, Rosh Chodesh, is designated as a semi-holiday.  But, that still leaves us with the question:  Why then is the “Rosh Chodesh” of this seventh month of the Hebrew calendar – the month later known by its Babylonian name “Tishrei” – why is the beginning of this seventh month considered a full-scale festival? 

Later commentary in the Talmud identified this first day of the seventh month as being the anniversary of the creation of the world.  Actually, even that is an oversimplification since there is an argument in the Talmud that the world was created on the 25th of Elul and that this 1st day of Tishrei is not the birthday of the world, but rather the birthday of humanity (i.e., the sixth day as described in the Creation story of Genesis chapter 1).

But, long story short, ultimately, it became the normative Jewish tradition to treat this seventh month of the Biblical calendar as the start of the year for purposes of counting the number of years since the creation of the world.

Of course, I am assuming that none of us in this room take any of that chronology literally. It is way more than 5786 years since our world was created, at least in the way we define “years.”  But I am also assuming that I don’t have to convince you that the profound lessons which scripture teaches need not lead us to reject our modern understandings of science.

We praise God as the author of Creation in our standard prayers every day of the year.  And on this day when we celebrate the anniversary of Creation itself --- however many billions of years ago that might have actually been --- how much more so are we inspired to pause to reflect on the awesomeness of it all.

The Talmud says that this is the day on which humanity is judged and on which our fates are determined for the year to come.  And, the traditional teaching goes on, since none of us are wholly good or wholly evil, we have another ten days until Yom Kippur to tip the balance ---   through our efforts to atone for our misdeeds and to make things right between ourselves and our fellow creatures and between ourselves and God.

But all that is later gloss on what is actually written in the Torah.

Going back to the Torah’s portrayal of this day as being “zichron teruah” (“commemorated with loud blasts”) or “Yom teruah” (“a day when the horn is sounded”) – descriptions that do not identify this day with the New Year --- why are we making a big deal out of this day? 

Or to put it in other words, if Tishrei is the seventh month and not the first month, what’s with all the shofar blasts?

If we go back to the Torah, in its own terms, at the time of its own writing,  the horn blasts of the first day of the seventh month --- and the purification rituals of Yom Kippur --- all of these are just preliminary steps leading up to the big day – the full moon of the seventh month --- The holiday known as Chag Hasukkot – The Festival of Booths.  Indeed, later on in the Talmud, Sukkot is simply called “He-Chag” – “The Festival” par excellence.

Now, I know you’re all here tonight because it’s Rosh Hashanah, not because we’re anticipating Sukkot which starts two weeks from tonight.    

But, even as we recite the traditional prayers of Rosh Hashanah tonight and tomorrow and the day after, and even as we recite the traditional penitential prayers of Yom Kippur ten days from now --- and even as we recite our prayers throughout every day of the year --- the image of the sukkah is never far from our consciences.

During the entire month of Elul and throughout the High Holidays, it is traditional to recite Psalm 27. 

And in Psalm 27, verse 5 we have this poignant image:

 כִּ֤י יִצְפְּנֵ֨נִי ׀ בְּסֻכֹּה֮ בְּי֪וֹם רָ֫עָ֥ה יַ֭סְתִּרֵנִי בְּסֵ֣תֶר אָהֳל֑וֹ בְּ֝צ֗וּר יְרוֹמְמֵֽנִי׃

“For God’s sukkah will shelter me in days of evil; God’s tent will conceal me, raising me high upon a rock.[1]”   

And every evening of the year, in the Hashkivenu blessing, our prayer that we be safe from any and all dangers that may lurk in the night, we ask:

וּפְרוֹשׂ עָלֵינוּ סֻכַּת שְׁלוֹמֶךָ

 (“ufros aleynu sukkat shelomekha”)

 “Spread over us the sukkah of Your peace.”

What is a sukkah – it’s a flimsy shelter at best.  Susceptible to wind and rain, open to the elements.  A couple of weeks from now many of us will spend some time in the sukkah, even if just for the few moments of reciting a couple of blessings and sampling some wine or grape juice and challah.  The ones among us more ambitious in their piety may eat some meals in a sukkah or even sleep in it.

Tradition invites us to think of it as our temporary home.

But thinking of this precariousness of the sukkah sensitizes us to the fact that our way of life in general is seeming more precarious these days.

Climate change has led to existential insecurity.  We see that in the out-of-control wildfires that recently devastated southern California – including destroying the homes of my predecessor and classmate Rabbi Amy Bernstein and those of many of her neighbors and colleagues.  Meanwhile, here in Duluth, a city touted as a “climate refuge” in some recent publications, we experienced the worst cycles that I can recall of unhealthy air quality this summer as a result of smoke from Canadian wildfires.

Not only is the physical environment seeming as precarious as a sukkah these days – but the political environment as well.  Can we be confident that we still live in a so-called “free country” when an out-of-control executive branch, aided and abetted by an obsequious legislative branch is disappearing vulnerable individuals into veritable concentration camps without due process of law?!!!

And precarious as well is our sense of physical safety in the face of too-freely-available guns in the hands of nihilistic sociopaths. To take one such example, the recent mass shooting at Annunciation Church in Minneapolis shocked and saddened all of us.  But it could have been a lot worse had the church there not previously adopted a security policy of locking its main doors after folks had entered to celebrate mass.  It was a rueful realization to me that nowadays it’s not just synagogues that feel the need to employ such security policies

And precarious as well these days is that ultimate safety valve for Jewish life, the State of Israel, as it finds itself increasingly isolated and increasingly treated as a pariah and while Jewish solidarity itself is threatened as we are riven by heated arguments as to whether Israel’s challenges are to some extent self-imposed – and while Israeli hostages and Gazan civilians, and IDF soldiers and reservists all continue to face deadly dangers from the forces of unabashed terrorism.  

In short, these are precarious times.

But we must never succumb to despair or hopelessness.

Each of us, individually as well as in concert with others, has the capacity to do our part in making a positive difference.  Each of us can increase the quantity of kindness in the world through our own attitudes and actions.

………………………………………..

A couple of months ago, Liam and I went to see writer-director James Gunn’s  new Superman film.

There was a scene in it that apparently touched off some debate among reviewers and which struck a chord with me. It was a scene that almost didn’t make it into the final cut of the film:

The controversy was described in an article in the New York Times from late July of this year by its Pop Cultural reporter Kyle Buchanan.  Let me quote you the relevant passage.  Buchanan writes:

James Gunn’s new take on “Superman,” in theaters now, has its fair share of flight scenes and they’re all convincingly done. But the movie’s mission statement has more to do with a pure spirit than a special effect: In the middle of one frenetic action sequence, after noticing a tiny squirrel is in danger of being crushed by debris, Superman leaps into action to rush the animal out of harm’s way.

Sure, you’ll believe a man could fly. But would you believe that man would go to the trouble of saving a squirrel?

“The squirrel moment is probably one of the most debated,” Gunn told me recently. In early test screenings, some audiences were confused about why Superman (David Corenswet) would prioritize a tiny critter when all of Metropolis was in jeopardy. But to Gunn, that was exactly the point: His cleareyed, upbeat incarnation of Superman prizes saving every life, human or not.[2]

That squirrel saving scene in James Gunn’s “Superman” film reminds me of a couple of Jewish teachings that I bet many of us are familiar with:

From Mishna Sanhedrin:

“Anyone who saves a single life, it is as if they have saved an entire world.”

And from Maimonides’ Hichot Teshuvah (Laws of Repentance)

“[T]hroughout the entire year, one should always look at oneself as equally balanced between merit and sin and the world as equally balanced between merit and sin. By performing one sin, one tips their balance and that of the entire world to the side of guilt […] On the other hand, by performing one mitzvah, one tips their balance and that of the entire world to the side of merit and brings deliverance and salvation to onself and others.” [3]

………………………………………..

In the midst of the precarious social, political and physical environment in which we all find ourselves at this start of this new year 5786, none of us have the wherewithal to repair the world singlehandedly.  But surely we are all constantly encountering situations where we can take a small action which, like Superman saving a squirrel, might not seem like much – yet might actually make all the difference.

May we embrace such opportunities in the year to come. 

And may all of us be inscribed in the book of life and may it be a shanah tovah umetukah, a new year of goodness and sweetness, for all of us, for all Israel, and for all the world.

Amen

© Rabbi David Steinberg (2025/5786)

[1] Translation by Rabbi Ron Aigen

[2] https://www.nytimes.com/2025/07/22/movies/superman-squirrel-james-gunn.html

[3] Laws of Repentance 3:4

A NEW HIGH PRIEST

Devar Torah on Parashat Acharei Mot - Kedoshim given at Temple Israel on 5/9/2025

(Leviticus 16:1 – 20:27)

We have another double-portion this week, Acharei Mot (which comprises Leviticus chapters 16 through 18) and Kedoshim (which comprises Leviticus chapters 19 and 20). I’d like to focus my dvar torah this evening on a few aspects of the first of those two portions.

Parashat Acharei Mot opens with a chapter-long description of Yom Kippur.  Indeed, that chapter also comes up on Yom Kippur itself as the special holiday Torah portion for Yom Kippur morning.

First the parasha describes in close detail the role that Aaron, in his capacity as Kohen Gadol or “High Priest”, would carry out once a year on that specially designated day, the tenth day of the seventh month of the Biblical Calendar, the date we still observe today as Yom Kippur.

The Torah decrees the observance of Yom Kippur would be “chukat olam”/ “a law for all time.”  And yet, our contemporary practice of Yom Kippur – even in the most Orthodox of settings -- is quite different from the Yom Kippur of the Biblical era. Our religious worship focuses on prayer rather than animal sacrifices.  Our “atonement” is focused on our own moral failures rather than on ritual purification of a central sanctuary. Our process of teshuvah is between ourselves and God, and between ourselves and our fellow people, rather than being a ritual done on our behalf by a hereditary High Priest.

And yet, as far as Judaism is concerned, this is all still the expression of “chukat olam” – a law for all time – because we understand that the contours of the law, and the details of the law – evolve over time and vary in their application as context changes.

I was thinking about all of this because of a detail I noticed for the first time today after all these years of reading this Torah portion.  In Leviticus 16:32, right after the Torah has described the practices of Yom Kippur for the second time in the chapter as “chukat olam”/ “a law for all time”, it says this:

וְכִפֶּ֨ר הַכֹּהֵ֜ן אֲשֶׁר־יִמְשַׁ֣ח אֹת֗וֹ וַאֲשֶׁ֤ר יְמַלֵּא֙ אֶת־יָד֔וֹ לְכַהֵ֖ן תַּ֣חַת אָבִ֑יו וְלָבַ֛שׁ אֶת־בִּגְדֵ֥י הַבָּ֖ד בִּגְדֵ֥י הַקֹּֽדֶשׁ׃

The priest who has been anointed and ordained to serve as priest in place of his father shall make expiation. He shall put on the linen vestments, the sacral vestments.

At first glance, there doesn’t seem to be anything ambiguous about that verse.  However, Rashi, commenting on that verse, notes that, according to the Talmud (Horayot 12a), during the days of King Josiah, the anointing oil specified in the Torah was hidden away, and yet, generations of High Priests after that continued to be ordained without it. And so, here also, we can see that a so-called “chukat olam” (“law for all time”) can be interpreted in a flexible manner when conditions change.

Earlier this week, the Roman Catholics of the world experienced the election of a new Pope, a post that we might think of as being in some ways analogous to the role of the ancient Kohen Gadol (“High Priest”) of the Biblical and early Rabbinic Eras.

All of us in the Jewish community, and all of the other billions of folks who are not Catholic, still have a stake in hoping that the new Pope will be a force for good in the world. Much has been made of the fact that Cardinal Robert Prevost, originally from Chicago, Illinois, has taken the name Pope Leo XIV.  Thus, his choice of name invokes the memory of Pope Leo XIII who, in his famous 1891 encyclical Rerum novarum, outlined the rights of workers to a fair wage, safe working conditions, and the formation of trade unions. News coverage I’ve been seeing this week suggests that, like Pope Francis before him, he is expected to focus much of his energies on the needs of the poor. 

This is all to the good.

However, it has also been reported this week that back in 2012, he expressed some views on social issues that would strike us as reactionary.

As the New York Times reported:

“In a 2012 address to bishops, he lamented that Western news media and popular culture fostered ‘sympathy for beliefs and practices that are at odds with the gospel.’ He cited the ‘homosexual lifestyle’ and ‘alternative families comprised of same-sex partners and their adopted children.’”[1]

However, that was thirteen years ago, and we can hope that the new Pope’s views have evolved on this issue, just as the practices around Yom Kippur in Parashat Acharei Mot have evolved – as even Rashi recognized back in the eleventh century.[2]

Parashat Acharei Mot is also, notoriously, the Torah portion which includes the verse, Leviticus 18:22, that has caused so much grief and injustice over so many centuries – the verse that states:  וְאֶ֨ת־זָכָ֔ר לֹ֥א תִשְׁכַּ֖ב מִשְׁכְּבֵ֣י אִשָּׁ֑ה תּוֹעֵבָ֖ה הִֽוא׃ (“Do not lie with a man as one lies with a woman, it is an abhorrence.”)  Thankfully, many folks who take Torah seriously have come up with many ways to contextualize and to evolve our understanding of such problematic teachings so that folks like yours truly can feel welcome in Jewish community and, indeed, even train to become rabbis. 

I want to say something about a gay Catholic author and activist who has had a great personal influence on me. 

Back in the early 1970s, Brian McNaught was a writer and columnist for The Michigan Catholic, the weekly newspaper of the Archdiocese of Detroit. In 1974, McNaught founded the Detroit chapter of Dignity, the national gay Catholic organization. When McNaught, in an article about Dignity in the Detroit News, publicly came out as gay, the Michigan Catholic newspaper responded by dropping his column, and soon thereafter he was fired by the Diocese.

When I was coming to terms with being gay back in the late 1980s, I came across a book by Brian McNaught which consisted of a collection of his writings from the 1970s and 1980s.  The book is called On Being Gay: Thoughts on Family, Faith and Love.

[Note: I then showed the congregation my copy of the book, which I had brought with me from home.]

Here’s my copy of that book which I purchased in 1989. Or rather, here’s my copy of the book that my straight woman friend Susan Weinstein, one of the first folks I came out to, purchased for me at my request because I was too embarrassed and scared at that time to have the nerve to bring it by myself up to the checkout counter of the book store in Falmouth, Maine where I had seen it --- and where I had previously, surreptitiously, briefly browsed its pages.

Well, decades later, Brian McNaught is alive and well and living with his longtime spouse in Florida. Here’s what he wrote in a public post on Facebook earlier today:

Thirteen years ago Pope Leo said unwelcoming things about LGBTQ people. His record on the issues is going to slowly change, if it hasn’t already.

Why do I say so? He comes from a humble schoolteacher background. He’s an Augustinian and he will hear from fellow Augustinians who are building bridges to LGBTQ people. Pope Francis was among his best friends and he plans to continue focusing on the needs of all people.

Bishop Thomas Gumbleton of the Archdiocese of Detroit said he couldn’t support me when I was being fired for being Gay by the Michigan Catholic Newspaper. When his brother came out, the wind shifted in his sails. He became one of the best known bishops to stand with us. Over the years, including just prior to his death, Bishop Gumbleton wrote to apologize to me for not being there for me when I asked. He said, “Brian, you were ahead of your time.”

I was ahead of his time. The same Holy Spirit that has guided me as a Gay Catholic educator on LGBTQ issues for over fifty years is guiding the papacy of Leo. If you don’t believe me, look at the blood vessel-popping outrage of conservative Catholic Republicans.[3]

In Brian McNaught’s book On Being Gay: Thoughts on Family, Faith and Love, one of the chapters is an essay that he originally wrote in 1985 entitled “Listening to the Voice Within.”  In that essay he recounts how the Israelites complained against Moses after they came forth from Egypt, and as they found themselves at the shore of the Red Sea with Pharaoh’s armies chasing after them.

I’ll conclude my dvar Torah with McNaught’s inspiring words that ring out to me on this Shabbat when the Catholics of the world have a new Pope — and when Jews around the world are reading Torah portions that call upon us to evolve in our outlooks if we are to continue to see our heritage as chukat olam/ “a law for all time.”

And so McNaught writes:

If we gay people listen carefully, we can hear other voices of history echo our anxiety.

When the Jews left Egypt, many of them did so with mixed emotions. They were excited by the sense of independence and self-determination which Moses promised them, but they were also frightened of the unknown. When they realized that Pharaoh and his army were rapidly pursuing them, some of them yelled at Moses, “Why did you do this to us? Why did you bring us out of Egypt? Did we not tell you this in Egypt when we said, ‘Leave us alone. Leave us serve the Egyptians’? Far better for us to be the slaves of the Egyptians than to die in the desert.”

Moses was probably hurt and confused by the frightened and angry responses of his people. Had he made a mistake in leaving Egypt? Was it better to be a slave? Why had he left in the first place?

It was the voice which had led Moses out of Egypt and it ws the voice in which he ultimately placed his trust.  The voice which led Moses and the Jews out of slavery is the same voice which led gay men and women out of the closet. It is the same voice which whispered a dream to Martin Luther King, Jr. The voice which led an entire nation of Jews into a forty-year wandering in the desert is the same voice which led Gandhi to burn his English-made clothes; which led Caesar Chavez to politically organize his family and friends in the vineyards of California; which led Margaret Sanger to defy the law by providing birth control information to women.

The voice which speaks is the voice of God, which is the voice of life, which is the voice of self-affirmation. Moses heard the voice say “I am what I am.” Albin clears the stage in La Cage Aux Folles to proclaim “I am what I am.” The voice within is a constant but generally subtle longing to live life fully and equally; to live life authentically and to die knowing that you have bloomed to your full potential.[4]

Shabbat shalom.

© Rabbi David Steinberg (5785/2025)

[1] https://www.nytimes.com/2025/05/02/world/americas/pope-candidate-cardinal-robert-francis-prevost.html?searchResultPosition=2

[2] https://www.sefaria.org/Rashi_on_Leviticus.16.32.2?lang=bi

[3] https://www.facebook.com/share/p/16DmhWECB6/

[4] Brian McNaught, On Being Gay: Thoughts on Family, Faith and Love  (St. Martin’s Press, 1988), pp.160-161

COMPLETING THE WORK

(Dvar Torah on Parashat Pekuday [Exodus 38:21 – 40:38]

3/28/2025 (29 Adar 5785)

This week’s Torah portion, Parashat Pekudey, concludes the Book of Exodus, as the Mishkan, that portable sanctuary or tabernacle housing the Ark of the Covenant, is completed and set up for the first time.

In the past few weeks of our lectionary cycle, the Torah has devoted hundreds of verses to describing the process of creating the Mishkan and its furnishings, and the vestments of the priests who would serve within it, and the structures to be placed in its courtyard and the fences of the courtyard itself. 

The effort involves not only Moses, but also his chief designer Bezalel, and lots of individual workers.

This time around studying the Torah portion, I found myself surprised by the language of Exodus 39: 33-41.  This is what the Torah says right after it has finished reporting that the Israelites had finished manufacturing and designing everything required for the Mishkan project:

Starting at verse 33 this is what it says:

They brought the mishkan to Moses, the Tent, and all its furniture, its clasps, its boards, its bars, and its pillars, and its sockets, and the covering of rams’ skins dyed red, and the covering of taĥash skins, and the veil of the screen, the ark of the Testimony, and its poles, and the covering, the table, and all its vessels, and the showbread, the pure candlestick, with its lamps, the lamps to be set in order, and all its vessels, and the oil for light, and the golden altar, and the anointing oil, and the incense of spices, and the screen for the tabernacle door, the brass altar, and its grate of brass, its poles, and all its vessels, the laver and its pedestal, the hangings of the court, its pillars, and its sockets, and the screen for the court gate, its cords, and its pegs, and all the vessels of the service of the tabernacle, for the Tent of Meeting, the uniforms for service in the holy place, and the holy garments for Aaron the priest, and his sons’ garments, to minister in the priest’s office.

So I read all of this, and I think – wait a second!

Why does it say regarding all this stuff that they brought it all to Moses?

Did Moses order this stuff from Ikea?

Why, after all that work, does Moses get it from them “SOME ASSEMBLY REQUIRED”!

And, indeed, Rashi (relying on earlier commentaries) addresses this question: 

Commenting on the phrase

 (אל משה)  ויביאו את המשכן

(“They brought the Mishkan ]to Moses[)

Rashi says:

ויביאו את המשכן שֶׁלֹּא הָיוּ יְכוֹלִין לַהֲקִימוֹ

“They brought the Mishkan (to Moses) because they were unable to erect it.”

The commentary goes on to explain that, though Moses was in charge of the whole operation, though Moses was the one to whom God had first conveyed the instructions --- still, Moses had thus far only delegated all the work to others and had not thus far done any of the actual work himself. And so ---

וּלְפִי שֶׁלֹּא עָשָׂה מֹשֶׁה שׁוּם מְלָאכָה בַמִּשְׁכָּן, הִנִּיחַ לוֹ הַקָּבָּ"ה הֲקָמָתוֹ

Since Moses had done no work in the Mishkan, the Holy blessed One left for him the task of erecting it.

--- Now here is where it gets interesting ---

Continuing Rashi’s comment on Exodus 39:33

Since Moses had done no work in the Mishkan, the Holy blessed One, left for him the task of erecting it, for nobody was able to set it up because of the weight of the boards which no human strength was capable of setting up. Moses, however, succeeded in placing it in position. Moses said to the blessed Holy One,  “How is its erection possible by human beings?” God answered him: “You be busy with your hand!” It appeared as if Moses had erected it, but in fact it had stood itself upright of its own accord. And that is why Scripture says, (Exodus 40:17), הוקם המשכן  / hukam hamishkan “The Tabernacle was erected” — [the passive form of the verb indicating that] it was erected by itself.

I’m moved by that midrash.  It tells us that our cooperative work, in whatever context we find ourselves interacting with others, is more than the sum of its parts, more than the sum of our individual efforts.  That working together, we, so to speak, activate or tap into the experience of Godliness in the world.

Remember, this whole process started with the directive at Exodus 25:8 when God said to Moses --- “Make me a sanctuary that I might dwell among them.” And now, at the end of the Book of Exodus, that goal has been achieved.

********************************************

Another feature of Parashat Pekudey that differentiates it from all the previous iterations and repetitions of the Mishkan construction plans is this:

In these concluding chapters of the Book of Exodus, with respect to the completion of the construction of every specific component, and with respect to the installation of every specific component of this complicated project, the Torah comments that each and every one of these actions was done:

כאשר צוה ה' את משה

Ka’asher tzivah Adonai et Moshe/ JUST AS ADONAI HAD COMMANDED MOSES.

That phrase – Ka’sher tzivah Adonai et Moshe – JUST AS GOD HAD COMMANDED MOSES – appears (if I’ve counted this correctly) at least six times in this relatively short Torah portion – plus a few more times where the wording is varied slightly.

Okay, here’s where I try to make some connection between these words of Torah and the state of our society today.

I’m always reluctant to do this.  I didn’t enter the rabbinate in order to be a political commentator.  And, my nature is always to try to find common ground, to try to be a peacemaker, to try to honor differences of opinion.

But, I gotta say, if we take to heart the Torah’s emphasis that all of these actions were done KA’ASHER TZIVAH ADONAI ET MOSHE  “just as God had commanded Moses”, this evokes for me the idea that in our own society, when government officials conduct their various actions, those actions should analogously be carried out:

KA’ASHER TZIVAH HA-CHUKAH  OTAM – JUST AS THE CONSTITUTION HAS COMMANDED THEM.

KA’ASHER TZIVU MISHPATEINU OTAM – JUST AS OUR LAWS HAVE COMMANDED THEM

And yet, distressingly, the current presidential administration has been laying waste to our established structures of government, and terrorizing vulnerable individuals in our society ---

LO KA’ASHER TZIVAH HACHUKAH – NOT AS THE CONSTUTION COMMANDS

LO KA’ASHER TZIVU MISHPATEYNU– NOT AS OUR LAWS COMMAND

We’re at a breaking point in our society right now and we’ll need our courts, and our elected representatives, and one another and our fellow citizens, to set things aright.

Each of us approaches these challenges in our own ways, but, as our tradition teaches us:

לֹא עָלֶיךָ הַמְּלָאכָה לִגְמֹר, וְלֹא אַתָּה בֶן חוֹרִין לִבָּטֵל מִמֶּנָּה

(Lo alekha hamelacha ligmor ve lo atah ven chorin libatel mimena).

“It’s not upon any one of us to complete the work, though we are not free to evade it.”[1]

Parashat Pekudey portrays Moses witnessing that the people had indeed done all that God had commanded them, and so

וַיְבָ֥רֶךְ אֹתָ֖ם מֹשֶֽׁה

“Moses blessed them.”[2]

And, with the subsequent report of Moses doing all the assembly of that Mishkan set from Ikea 😊.

וַיְכַ֥ל מֹשֶׁ֖ה אֶת־הַמְּלָאכָֽה

(Vayechal Moshe et hamelacha)

“Moses completed the work.”[3]

The traditional commentators note that this description parallels the description of God’s work of creation in Genesis 2:1-3 – verses that are also a part of our Shabbat evening liturgy:

וַיְכֻלּ֛וּ הַשָּׁמַ֥יִם וְהָאָ֖רֶץ וְכׇל־צְבָאָֽם׃

וַיְכַ֤ל אֱלֹהִים֙ בַּיּ֣וֹם הַשְּׁבִיעִ֔י מְלַאכְתּ֖וֹ אֲשֶׁ֣ר עָשָׂ֑ה וַיִּשְׁבֹּת֙ בַּיּ֣וֹם הַשְּׁבִיעִ֔י מִכׇּל־מְלַאכְתּ֖וֹ אֲשֶׁ֥ר עָשָֽׂה׃

וַיְבָ֤רֶךְ אֱלֹהִים֙ אֶת־י֣וֹם הַשְּׁבִיעִ֔י וַיְקַדֵּ֖שׁ אֹת֑וֹ כִּ֣י ב֤וֹ שָׁבַת֙ מִכׇּל־מְלַאכְתּ֔וֹ אֲשֶׁר־בָּרָ֥א אֱלֹהִ֖ים לַעֲשֽׂוֹת׃ 

Vayechulu hashamayim veha'aretz vechol tzeva'am.
Vayechal elohim bayom hashvi'i melachto asher asah. Vayishbot bayom hashvi'i mikol melachto asher asah.
Vayevarech elohim et yom hashvi'i vayekadesh oto. Ki vo shavat mikol melachto asher barah elohim la'asot.

“The heaven and the earth were COMPLETED and all their array.

“On the seventh day God COMPLETED the work that had been undertaken: [God] ceased on the seventh day from doing any of the work.

And God blessed the seventh day and declared it holy—having ceased on it from all the work of creation that God had done.”

Our work is not yet done.

But, at least for these next 24 hours, Jewish tradition invites us dwell in gratitude for what we have, and to refresh our souls for the work to come.

Shabbat shalom.

© Rabbi David Steinberg

March 2023/ Adar 5785

[1] Pirke Avot 2:16

[2] Exodus 39:43

[3] Exodus 40:33

IN SEARCH OF THE WAY FORWARD

Dvar Torah for Parashat Beshallach (Exodus 13:17 – 17:16)

Given at Temple Israel on Friday night 2/7/2025

This week’s Torah portion, Beshallach, includes the dramatic account of the Israelites crossing the Sea of Reeds in their escape from Pharaoh and the Egyptian army.  This account appears twice in our parasha, first as a prose description and then in the form of a poetic “song.”  That “song” (or “Shirah” in Hebrew) gives this Shabbat its special name of “Shabbat Shirah.”  

Right between the end of the prose description and the beginning of Shirat Hayam (“The Song of the Sea”), at Exodus 14:31, the Torah emphatically declares: 

וַיַּרְא יִשְׂרָאֵל אֶת-הַיָּד הַגְּדֹלָה, אֲשֶׁר עָשָׂה ה' בְּמִצְרַיִם, וַיִּירְאוּ הָעָם, אֶת-ה'; וַיַּאֲמִינוּ, בּה', וּבְמֹשֶׁה, עַבְדּוֹ. 

And when Israel saw the great power which the Eternal had wielded against the Egyptians, the people feared the Eternal; they had faith in the Eternal and in God’s servant Moses.

That verb --- להאמין (leha’amin)/”to have faith” --- has a particular kind of meaning in Judaism.  As Nahum Sarna, the editor of the Jewish Publication Society commentary on the Book of Exodus, writes: “Faith” in the Hebrew Bible is not belief in doctrine or subscription to a creed.  Rather, it refers to trust and loyalty that find expression in obedience and commitment.”[1]

This message of faith and deliverance in Shirat Hayam is so central to the Jewish religion that we include excerpts of Shirat Hayam in the morning Shacharit and evening Ma’ariv prayers every day. 

“Mi Chamocha Ba’elim Adonai”  -- Who is like you Adonai among the mighty? ---

“Adonai yimlokh le’olam va’ed” – “The Eternal will reign forever and ever”  --

Those lines are from Shirat Hayam in this week’s Torah portion.[2]

There is a wealth of commentary on Shirat Hayam.  For the moment, I’ll just focus on one of the verses contained within it.  In the second verse of the song, at Exodus 15:2 to be precise, we have this pious statement:

עׇזִּ֤י וְזִמְרָת֙ יָ֔הּ וַֽיְהִי־לִ֖י לִֽישׁוּעָ֑ה        זֶ֤ה אֵלִי֙ וְאַנְוֵ֔הוּ        אֱלֹהֵ֥י אָבִ֖י וַאֲרֹמְמֶֽנְהוּ׃        

The Eternal is my strength and song, and has become my salvation; this is my God, whom I will glorify; my ancestor’s God, whom I will exalt.

There are a lot of ideas packed into that verse: 

Yah/the Eternal – is “ozi vezimrat” – My strength and song.

Which might prompt each of us to ask ourselves?  What makes ME sing?

And as for this idea of the Eternal being “Elohei Avi”/ “My ancestor’s God” --

We might ask ourselves:  How is the God in whom I believe --- or the godly values to which I aspire --- similar or different from the God or the godly values of my parents, grandparents, great-grandparents and on down the line?

And collectively as Jews, we might ask ourselves: How has our own approach to these ideas evolved over the centuries from that of our ancestors?

And, moreover, it says “ve”anvehu” – I WILL GLORIFY GOD and it says “va’aromemenhu” --- I  WILL EXALT GOD” . 

How do we do that?

How do we glorify or exalt God? 

Saying prayers with formulations like “Barukh Atah Adonai”/”Blessed are you God”  or “Yitgadal vehitkadash shemey rabbah”/ “May [God’s] great name be magnified and sanctified --- That’s the easy part.

Living out these affirmations in our lives and in society is the more difficult part.

When racism, antisemitism, or other sorts of oppression contaminate our world God, and godly values, and God’s reputation in the world are desecrated. 

In the stories of the Book of Exodus we see examples of such hateful behaviors in the stories about the oppression of the Israelites by the Egyptians. 

And yet, Torah also insists that ultimately the Israelites and the Egyptians would be reconciled.  As it says in Deuteronomy 23:8

לֹא-תְתַעֵב מִצְרִי, כִּי-גֵר הָיִיתָ בְאַרְצוֹ

You shall not abhor an Egyptian, for you were a stranger in his land.

The stories we read in the Torah, including this week’s Torah portion Beshallach which recounts the crossing of the Sea of Reeds shortly after leaving Egypt ---- all these stories emphasize the connection of the Jewish people with the Land of Israel  -- where we were and would again be at home – and would no longer be strangers in someone else’s land.

As we all well know, centuries upon centuries went by after all that:

The Jewish people under Judge Chieftain leaders like Deborah and under monarchs like Saul, David and Solomon controlled its own destiny in the Promised Land.

But there was a 70-year-long exile to Babylon for much of the population in the 6th century before the common era.  And then an almost 1900-year long exile stretching throughout the world after the destruction of the Second Temple by the forces of the Roman Empire in the year 70 of the Common Era. 

And, during that interim, a new world religion, Islam, was born in the seventh century in the Arabian Peninsula, and its adherents conquered most areas of the Middle East in the centuries that followed, including the area that Jews had called Eretz Yisra’el/ The Land of Israel, and which the Romans had renamed Palestine --- after the Philistines who had conquered the coastal areas centuries earlier – including the city of Gaza, which over the previous centuries had been under Canaanite, then Philistine, then Israelite rule.

Just as Jews in Israel, by virtue of some 3000 years of history, are not strangers in someone else’s land  --  the same can be said for Palestinians in Gaza. Even if the Arab presence in the Land of Israel is ONLY around 1400 years – that’s still quite a substantial claim!  Indeed, our own identities as Americans (unless any of us sitting here are Anishinaabe or Dakota) don’t even compare to the connections that Jews and Palestinians all have to that place that some call Israel and others call Palestine.

I’m not going to get into right now all the arguments surrounding the Hamas attacks on Israel of October 7th, 2023 and the Israel-Hamas war that has followed in its wake.  For the moment, we can be grateful that a ceasefire is currently, at least temporarily, in place -- and that at least some of the Israeli and foreign hostages cruelly held captive by Hamas terrorists are slowly being released.

But the current diplomatic situation is precarious.

This past Tuesday, President Trump made the situation even more precarious --- and Israeli Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu has shamefully egged him on.

Amidst all the crazy pronouncements of recent days, I think we can confidently say the following:

No --- Two million Palestinians will not be exiled from Gaza.

No – The United States will not take ownership of Gaza.

But even the discussion of these (to put it charitably) half-baked ideas puts the current ceasefire and hostage release deal in danger.  

Let me share with you an excerpt from a statement issued earlier today by the Israel Policy Forum, a U.S. based think tank and advocacy group founded in 1993 at the encouragement of then-Israeli Prime Minister Yitzchak Rabin to support the Israeli-Palestinian peace process.

I think the statement that the Israel Policy Forum issued today is one of the more sober analyses I’ve seen in recent days. 

In responding to Trump’s Gaza proposal, they say the following:

“All of this is a distraction from a fundamental and inconvenient reality: Israelis and Palestinians living between the river and the sea are fated to be neighbors.

In the aftermath of October 7, finding a path forward that advances peace, security, opportunity, and political rights for both Israelis and Palestinians has never been more daunting—and the need for the leadership of the United States has never been more apparent.

A more secure, peaceful, and integrated region is within sight. There is an enormous opportunity for the United States and President Trump to lead efforts to create a viable, sustainable day-after plan in Gaza, to elicit regional involvement in this task, to advance long-overdue reforms to overhaul the Palestinian Authority, and to expand the Abraham Accords.

Bold ideas and creative thinking are crucial. But such ideas must reflect the will and rights of the people who will be impacted by them or they will not succeed. The Trump administration is correct to identify the impossibility of rebuilding Gaza so long as Hamas is in charge, and with two million Palestinians internally displaced amidst terrible humanitarian conditions. But any attempt to stamp out Palestinian nationalism through forced transfer is no more realistic than those who vainly believe that Israel and Zionism can be wiped away with enough boycotts or calls for Palestine to be free from the river to the sea.

Trump administration officials have begun to encourage alternative proposals. The coming days will be crucial. U.S. leadership is essential to first and foremost secure the release of all of the remaining hostages held by Hamas, and to begin working with regional partners to develop a genuinely workable and mutually agreed-upon way forward.”[3]

Speaking of finding a way forward --- that brings us back to our Torah portion:

At Exodus 14:15, as the Israelites find themselves at the shore of the Sea of Reeds with the Egyptians in hot pursuit, it says this:

וַיֹּ֤אמֶר ה' אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֔ה מַה־תִּצְעַ֖ק אֵלָ֑י דַּבֵּ֥ר אֶל־בְּנֵי־יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל וְיִסָּֽעוּ׃

Then Adonai said to Moses, “Why do you cry out to Me? Tell the Israelites to go forward.

And, as the Torah recounts, they did so, and the sea parted, and they reached the other side.

“They had faith in the Eternal and in God’s servant Moses.”[4]

And may we have faith that rational thinking may prevail as Israelis, Palestinians, Americans and the people of all nations face the many challenges of our time.

Shabbat shalom. 

© Rabbi David Steinberg

February 2025/ Shevat 5785

[1] The JPS Torah Commentary: Exodus, p. 75, footnote to Exodus 14:31

[2] Exodus 15: 11, 18

[3] https://israelpolicyforum.org/2025/02/07/reflecting-on-president-trumps-gaza-proposals/

[4] Exodus 14:31

TRANSFORMATIONS

Dvar Torah for Parashat Shemot (5785/2025)

[January 17, 2025]

(Exodus 1:1 – 6:1)

This Shabbat our yearly lectionary cycle arrives at the opening chapters of the second book of the Torah, the book known in Hebrew as “Sefer Shemot”.  In English, we refer to it as the Book of Exodus, since the Exodus from Egypt is its main subject matter.  However, the literal translation of the Hebrew title Sefer Shemot is “The Book of Names” – And that title is derived from the first words of the book:  “Ve’eyleh shemot b’ney yisra’el haba’im mitzraymah eyt ya’akov…”  (“These are the names of the children of Israel who came to Egypt with Jacob…”) 

It’s notable that within a single verse we have the name Yisrael/Israel as well as the name Ya’akov/Jacob.

This reminds us of the theme of transformation that informs so many of our sacred stories.  Our third patriarch is referred to in this single verse both by his birth name Ya’akov -- meaning “the overreacher” or “the one who acts like a heel”; and by the name he acquired after his mysterious nocturnal wrestling match – Yisra’el -  which the Torah explains as being derived from “sarita Elohim” – “you have struggled with God and with human beings and you have prevailed.” [1] The transformation of the father is reflected in the transformation of the children.  Originally, they were just one nuclear family but now they are a nation.  This idea is first expressed a few verses later at Exodus 1:9 when Pharaoh says to the Egyptians –

הִנֵּ֗ה עַ֚ם בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל רַ֥ב וְעָצ֖וּם מִמֶּֽנּוּ

Behold, Ahm Benei Yisrael [THE NATION OF THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL] are much too numerous for us.

That formulation – AHM BENEI YISRAEL – THE NATION OF THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL – is significant.  The BANIM[2] (the children) of the patriarch named Israel have become the AHM (the people or nation) of Israel.

As we gather this evening, the nation of the Jewish people --- ISRAEL – remains on edge as we await the start of the ceasefire that has just been agreed to by Hamas and Israel.

As we have been doing now for over a year, we pray for the release of all of the remaining hostages as well as for an end to the suffering of Gazan civilians. Yet still, it remains the case that any solution that leaves Hamas in power in Gaza will likely just bring a temporary lull before Hamas and its supporters try again to destroy Israel. 

And any solution that prolongs the presence of religious nationalist extremists in the Israeli governing coalition will likely further delay progress towards what remains the only possible road to peace --- that of the creation of an independent Palestinian State in Gaza and the West Bank existing peacefully alongside the State of Israel.

Currently, neither the leaders of Hamas nor the governing coalition in Israel are willing to commit to working towards that ultimate goal.

Perhaps, despite all our fears and concerns about the incoming Trump administration, maybe Trump and his advisers will be able to pressure Israel and the Palestinians in that direction. 

Stranger things have happened in American history.  (See: Nixon in China).

Meanwhile, our AMERICAN nation also remains on edge as we follow the ongoing devastating news of the fires in California.  Our hearts go out to all those affected, including of course, our previous rabbi – and my Rabbinical school classmate – Rabbi Amy Bernstein and her congregation of Kehillat Israel in Pacific Palisades. 

Please check out the information in this week’s “Temple This Week” email update about ways to help.[3]

In light of these and other ongoing crises in the world at large, we might gain some wisdom by considering the juxtaposition between a passage from this week’s Torah portion, Parashat Shemot, and next week’s Torah portion, Parashat Va’era.

In this week’s Torah portion, after Moses receives the revelation at the Burning Bush, he goes on to follow God’s instructions by relaying the message to the Israelites.  In response, at Exodus 4:31, the Torah reports:  

וַֽיַּאֲמֵ֖ן הָעָ֑ם וַֽיִּשְׁמְע֡וּ כִּֽי־פָקַ֨ד ה' אֶת־בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֗ל וְכִ֤י רָאָה֙ אֶת־עָנְיָ֔ם וַֽיִּקְּד֖וּ וַיִּֽשְׁתַּחֲוּֽוּ׃

“The people were convinced and when they heard that Adonai had taken note of the Israelites and had seen their plight, they bowed low in homage.”

And we might take that as a lesson that all we need to do is have faith.

But, of course, things did not go so smoothly for our ancestors after that. 

Moses and Aaron go off to confront Pharaoh with their demands, but Pharaoh responds by making the horrible working conditions of the Israelites even worse.  “No more straw for you!, “ he says.  Now go gather the straw for yourselves that you need to fulfill your quota of brickmaking!”  [4]

Perhaps then it should not be a surprise that the next time Moses preaches his message of liberation to his people in next week’s Torah portion, what happens is that, as it says in Exodus 6:9 ---

וַיְדַבֵּ֥ר מֹשֶׁ֛ה כֵּ֖ן אֶל־בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֑ל וְלֹ֤א שָֽׁמְעוּ֙ אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֔ה מִקֹּ֣צֶר ר֔וּחַ וּמֵעֲבֹדָ֖ה קָשָֽׁה׃

“When Moses told this to the Israelites, they would not listen to Moses because of KOTZER RUACH and hard labor.”

What is this “Kotzer Ruach?”  Those words literally mean “shortness of breathץ” 

Some more idiomatic translations of “kotzer ruach” include expressions such as “crushed spirits”, “distress” or “impatience.”  However we translate the phrase “kotzer ruach,” we surely get the idea.  At first, we’re prepared to believe and have faith and see the light at the end of the tunnel. 

But as the days and weeks and months go by and we’re still stuck in that tunnel and it’s dark and scary and difficult, “kotzer ruach”  --- crushed spirits, distress, impatience – can set in.

The ongoing effects of climate change, like what we’re seeing in California, can do that to you.

The ongoing death and suffering in the Middle East can do that to you.

In this life we have some days filled with hope.  Some days filled with despair.  And the bulk of our days lie somewhere in between.

But just as Moses and Aaron and Miriam and the rest of the Israelites pushed past the feelings of kotzer ruach/ crushed spirits – so must we

and so do we

and so shall we

b’ezrat hashem/with God’s help.

Shabbat shalom.

(c) Rabbi David Steinberg (January 2025/ Tevet 5785)

[1] Gen. 32:29

[2] “Benei” בני means “children of ….” and this form of the noun must be followed by the object of the preposition.  The same word on its own (“children”) is “Banim” בנים

[3]  Here’s the text of that announcement that went out to folks on our “Temple This Week” subscriber email list:

“Our former Rabbi, Amy Bernstein, was one of the many people in the Los Angeles area who lost their homes to the fires last week. Not only did her home burn, but her community, Pacific Palisades, was also largely destroyed, with the miraculous exception of her synagogue Kehillat Israel. Many people have asked if we can do something to support her and Eliana. If you would like to contribute to a personal gift on behalf of the Temple Israel Community, please send your donation to the office by January 20th.

There are of course numerous funds to support victims of the fire:

• Go Fund Me set up for Amy and Eliana: https://gofund.me/14f9ccde

• KI fund ourki.org/firefund

• Jewish Federation of LA fund https://www.jewishla.org/wildfire-crisis-relief

Natural disasters continue to impact many across the Unites States. If you would like to support those continuing to recover from Hurricane Helene: https://templebethel.org/help-our-neighbors-affected-by-hurricane-helene/ “

[4] See Exodus 5: 6-9

INSIDE OUT

Sermon for Yom Kippur morning 5785

October 12, 2024

This morning in our Torah service we read Leviticus, Chapter 16, from Parashat Acharei Mot. It describes in close detail the rituals that were conducted on Yom Kippur in days of old to cleanse the Mishkan from ritual impurity --- ritual impurity that was in large part the result of human sin. Without that process of purification, our ancestors feared that God’s indwelling presence might cease to abide in their midst.

 The Mishkan was the portable shrine that the people carried around with them in the wilderness. Jewish tradition teaches that the Mishkan was the predecessor of the more elaborate Bet Hamikdash – the Temple that King Solomon built in Jerusalem in the 10th century B.C.E.  The Bet Hamikdash was destroyed by the Babylonians in 586 B.C.E., rebuilt on a possibly smaller scale some seventy years later, and then destroyed again by the Romans in year 70 of the Common Era.

 The fall of Jerusalem in 70 C.E. was a traumatic event for our people which could have spelled the end of Judaism itself

However, Churban Bet Hamikdash was not the end of Judaism. 

In the centuries following the destruction of the Second Temple, we learned as a people to carry on the traditions of Judaism in new ways. 

The Torah had described the Day of Atonement with its Priestly administered sacrificial offerings this way:

כִּֽי־בַיּ֥וֹם הַזֶּ֛ה יְכַפֵּ֥ר עֲלֵיכֶ֖ם לְטַהֵ֣ר אֶתְכֶ֑ם מִכֹּל֙ חַטֹּ֣אתֵיכֶ֔ם לִפְנֵ֥י ה' תִּטְהָֽרוּ׃

”Ki vayom hazeh yikhaper aleykhem letaher etkhem; mikol chatoteykhem lifney adonai titharu.”

(“For on this day atonement he [i.e. the Kohen Gadol or High Priest] shall purify you;  Of all your sins before Adonai you shall be purified.”)

However, after the destruction of the second Temple, the focus of Yom Kippur altered from one in which a hereditary functionary ritually purified a physical structure on behalf of the people ---- to one in which, we the people took on the task of spiritually purifying ourselves.

If we look closely at the wording of that verse, Leviticus 16:30, we see that there are two processes discussed here.

The first process is “kaparah,” which means “atonement” or “expiation”   --- According to the late Rabbi Joseph Solovetchik and others, kapparah is about removing the metaphorical stain that has sullied the world outside ourselves as a result of our sins.  We do so by apologizing to those whom we have wronged, and by making whole those to whom we have caused injury.

The second is “taharah,” which means “purification.” In contrast to the external focus of that first process of kapparah or atonement, this second process of taharah or purification is about removing the metaphorical stain that has sullied our inner selves as a result of our sins.  

In Pirke Avot, there’s a famous teaching that says – “mitzvah goreret mitzvah, va’avera goreret avera”/ “one mitzvah pulls along another mitzvah and one transgression pulls along another transgression” (Pirke Avot 4:2). In other words, acting honorably on any one occasion makes it more likely that you’ll get in the habit of acting honorably; while acting dishonorably on one occasion makes it more likely that you’ll get in the habit of acting dishonorably. 

So, even if we have achieved kapparah or atonement for a sin by setting right whatever damage we have caused to others – we still have internal work to do if we want to achieve taharah or purification -- setting right the damage that we have done to our inner selves. 

We still are obliged to work on changing our direction in life so that we’ll learn from our past mistakes, rather than simply repeating them in the future.

Jewish tradition teaches us that God is eager to meet us way more than halfway.  In Shir Hashirim Rabbah, the rabbinic midrash on Song of Songs, God is described as saying to the Jewish people – “Open to Me a gate of repentance no bigger than the point of a needle, and I will open to you a gate [of forgiveness] wide enough to drive wagons and carts through.” (Shir Hashirim R. 5:2).  

And since we should strive to act in godly ways in the world, we should therefore also try our best to forgive others who have wronged us when they seek to apologize to us.

We give special focus to this process of teshuvah during our High Holiday season.  However, Judaism understands the process of teshuvah to be a year-round process.   Making things right when we have done wrong, and seeking to learn from our mistakes --- These are ongoing, continual activities (which is why the traditional weekday Amidah includes a prayer seeking forgiveness for our sins.)   

We strive to be engaged in teshuvah throughout the year, always seeking to be conscious of who we are, and what we do, and where we are -- always making mid-course corrections as we try continually to be oriented towards God. As it says in Psalms 16:8 – “Shiviti Adonai lenegdi tamid.” “I set God before me always.”

May we be faithful to this path not only on this Day of Atonement but throughout the year, and throughout our lives.

Gmar chatimah tovah.

© Rabbi David Steinberg

October 2024/ Yom Kippur 5785

FAR BEYOND

Sermon for Kol Nidre night 5785

October 11, 2024

For those of you who are regular attendees at Shabbat services throughout the year, I’m sure you notice how various elements of the service --- prayer language, congregational tunes, and Torah cantillation modes are different for the High Holidays.

But even for those of you whom we tend to see much less frequently at services during the rest of the year, I would guess that there is at least one liturgical change that you notice as well.

It comes in the various forms of the Kaddish – whether it’s the half kaddish or the full kaddish or the mourners kaddish.

I’m referring to the repetition of the word “le’eylah” (לעלה). 

The rest of the year in the Kaddish --- we declare that God is “le’eylah min kawl birkhata veshirata tushbechatah venechemata da’amiran be’alma” --- “beyond all blessings, songs, praises and words of comfort that we can say in this world”

That statement in the Kaddish reminds us that there is so much in existence that is utterly beyond our comprehension.  That there is so much mystery and miracle all around us at all times that if we were to truly perceive it all it would just blow our minds --- maybe even literally  -- who knows!

I think that’s what the Torah means when it portrays God telling Moses ---

“I will make all My goodness pass before you, and I will proclaim before you the name ADONAI, and the grace that I grant and the compassion that I show […] but you cannot see My face, for a human being may not see Me and live.”[1]

That passage from the Book of Exodus goes on to describe God’s divine attributes, the idea that we cannot perceive God directly, but, rather we perceive the effects of God’s actions in the world.

We proclaim those attributes multiple times in our High Holiday services:

ה' ׀ ה' אֵ֥ל רַח֖וּם וְחַנּ֑וּן אֶ֥רֶךְ אַפַּ֖יִם וְרַב־חֶ֥סֶד וֶאֱמֶֽת׃

נֹצֵ֥ר חֶ֙סֶד֙ לָאֲלָפִ֔ים נֹשֵׂ֥א עָוֺ֛ן וָפֶ֖שַׁע וְחַטָּאָ֑ה וְנַקֵּה֙

Adonai, Adonai, compassionate and gracious God, patient, abounding in kindness and truth; assuring steadfast love for a thousand generations, forgiving transgression and sin, and granting pardon.[2]

And from these and other teachings with which Judaism abounds, we learn that the ultimate life of religious faith consists of trying to emulate such qualities in our own lives  --- regardless of whether you believe in a personal God or are atheist or anything in between. As Jews, we are a people with a shared heritage and destiny even while our particular theological outlooks may vary.

But I want to go back to what I started talking about regarding the words of the kaddish ---

The rest of the year we say that God’s actual nature is “LE’EYLA” (“BEYOND”) all blessings, songs, etc. “da’amiran balma” (“that we utter in the world”).”

But, during the Yamim Noraim – the days of awe from Rosh Hashanah through Yom Kippur we don’t just say “Leyla” “BEYOND” we say “LE’EYLAH ULE’EYLAH”  -- “Beyond and Beyond’ – or, more idiomatically —“FAR BEYOND”.

The ultimate nature of reality is FAR BEYOND that which we mere earthlings can express or understand.

I have been thinking about that extra “LEYLAH” on this High Holiday season  --when it seems like it’s FAR FAR BEYOND my abilities – and perhaps LE’EYLAH ULE’EYALH – far far beyond ---- the abilities of my fellow rabbis in synagogue pulpits around the world --- to thread the needle --- to find the proper balance --- between

sharing what I believe

versus

maintaining a spirit of welcoming community with those with whom I am in profound and painful disagreement. 

Perhaps those of you who attend the discussion session tomorrow afternoon will come up with that magic formula.

As for me, up here trying to come up with words of some value or inspiration to share with you on this holiest of nights ...  I just keep thinking “le’eyla, ule’eylah” – it’s far far beyond me to square the circle --- it’s far far beyond me to get everyone on the same page –

regarding the existential question of Jewish survival in a post-October 7th world.     

And I won’t try to do that here.

Those of you who know me well, probably know what I think.  And those of you who don’t, can certainly ask me when I’m off the bima. 

One of my rabbinical colleagues recently shared in an online group that they were

“Looking for a Yom Kippur sermon idea - something on political polarization and the election along with some rabbinic texts,…But I’m not sure what to say except that polarization is bad. Any ideas?”

In my response to that query I wrote this:

“The old "makhloket leshem shamayim" [argument for the sake of heaven] vs "makhloket shelo beshem shamayim" [argument not for the sake of heaven] dichotomy could be useful. As for me, I'm sorely tempted to do a sermon about how putting a band aid on a problem (rather than trying to solve it) is actually a good response...” 

That’s what I wrote.

About a month ago I took a bad fall while I was out for a run on the Lakewalk.  I managed to walk and then continue to run the remaining couple of miles home while my arm and my leg were dripping blood.

Thankfully, I didn’t need any stitches.

And yes, after cleaning myself up, I did indeed put on a bunch of band aids to cover the wounds.

And, miracle of miracles, I kept the band aids on long enough that everything healed on its own.

As we say in the asher yatzar blessing in the daily Shacharit liturgy: 

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה' רוֹפֵא כָל־בָּשָׂר וּמַפְלִיא לַעֲשׂוֹת

Barukh atah Adonai, rofey khawl basar umafli la’asot

"Blessed are you Adonai, the wondrous healer of all flesh."

My inclination is to be a peace-maker – to put metaphorical band aids on our communal hurts and just give them time to heal on their own with the passage of time.

I know this modus operandi does not work for all situations

But I really do appreciate band aids!

And I pray that, as a congregation, as a society, as a world – we be graced with the ability and the opportunity to find common ground without insisting upon identical ground. 

I realize that I am mixing a lot of metaphors and perhaps being somewhat obscure in my remarks.

But what I’m getting at --- and what I bet you can indeed get from what I’m saying --- is this:

Let us remain in covenantal community with one another, supporting one another, caring for one another, rooting for one another  even though --- outside these walls --- we may be in bitter opposition to one another on matters that may be deep in our hearts.

Ahm Yisra’el Chai/ May our people continue to live and thrive.

Gmar chatimah tovah/ May we all be inscribed and sealed for goodness in this new year.

Tzom Kal/ May those who are observing the Yom Kippur fast, do so easily.

Shabbat shalom --- May this Yom Kippur -- this Shabbat Shabbaton – this Sabbath of Sabbaths – be a time of meaningful reflection and communion ---

AND MAY OUR BROKEN HEARTS BE HEALED.

Amen.

© Rabbi David Steinberg

October 2024/ Kol Nidre Night 5785

[1] Exodus 33:19-20

[2] Exodus 34: 6-7 (Actually, the recitation in liturgy of those so-called “Shelosh Eshrey Midot” (“Thirteen [Divine] Attributes”) omits the end of verse seven but that could be the subject of another sermon altogether… )