“The Strength of Vulnerability” – Yom Kippur 5780

A few weeks ago, I was listening to an interview of the great documentary film maker, Ken Burns (most famous for his full length PBS documentaries on the Civil War, Vietnam War, Baseball, Jazz, National Parks system and most recently, County Music). The interviewer asked Burns why did he go into movie making? Burns said that when he was just 12 years old, his mother died from cancer. That was of course very tragic, but not why he decided to make movies. A few months after the funeral, he was up late one night with his father watching a movie. There was an emotional scene. And his father started crying. Burns recalls being so startled because it was the first time he saw his father cry. Now remember, his mother just died a few months before that and his father didn’t cry. He didn’t cry at the funeral. But Burns realized that there was something about the moving image that gave his father a safe haven to feel vulnerable and express emotions that he could not feel and express in any other place in life. Burns referred to that moment as a kind of “Opening Heart Surgery”. And in that moment, even though Burns was only 12, he knew he wanted to make films for the rest of his life.

There was something about that interview that made me go back and listen many times over the past few weeks. I keep thinking (and hoping) that maybe Yom Kippur (and teshuva and deep prayer) can have the same effect as film. Maybe Yom Kippur can be a safe haven for us to feel vulnerable and feel emotions that we cannot feel in other settings. 

So I would like to spend a few minutes talking about Vulnerability and its deep connection to Yom Kippur.

In recent year, “vulnerability”, as a topic of research has become very popular. There is a researcher/story teller (as she likes to be called!) named Brene Brown. Her TED talk, “The Power of Vulnerability” has been watched more than 43 million times!

With all due respect to Brene Brown (and I have a lot of respect for her. After all, I don’t think any Rabbi’s sermon has been watched 43 million times!), she is not really saying anything new. The idea that allowing ourselves to be vulnerable (with family, friends and G-d) can make us stronger, goes way back to the Torah. It is in almost every chapter of Tehillim (Psalms where David expresses his complete vulnerability before G-d) and it is on almost every page of the Siddur and Machzor (prayer books). In fact, I would claim that Jewish Prayer is nothing if it is not the promise that if we allow ourselves to be vulnerable, it will make us stronger.

The problem is that everything in our society tells us that we should never allow ourselves to be vulnerable. I decided to find synonyms for “vulnerable” in the thesaurus. Here is what I found: defenseless, endangered, feeble frail, helpless, powerless, weak, at risk, passive, uprotected, ungaurded. 

Its no wonder that people dont want to be vulnerable!

In our society, we value power, strength, self-sufficiency, independence, and “pulling yourself up by the boot straps”. When people become vulnerable and need help, we talk about how they are getting “handouts”. At most, we ask, “give me a fair shake, don’t do me any favors.” As if there is something wrong with one person in need of getting help from someone else. We are taught that we must be tough and do it on our own.

But this self-sufficiency and feeling like we have to have a façade of strength is actually corrosive. We end up hardening our hearts, sealing our souls, and at the end of the day; this self sufficiency and strength actually makes us weaker because we do not have others and G-d to support us. 

This whole question of feeling vulnerable and asking for help (from G-d and others) versus self-sufficiency, actually plays itself out in a major debate on the biggest theme of today, Teshuva.

The debate is between Rambam (Maimonides – 12^th century) and Rabbeinu Yona (Jonah of Gerona – 13^th century, author of “Gates of Repentance”). There might be a bit of interesting historical background to the debate. The Rambam was a philosopher and R’ Yona was a pietist. Some historians believe that it was R’ Yona’s fierce opposition to Rambam’s philosophical approach that led some of R’ Yona’s followers to instigate the public burning of the Rambam’s books in the streets of Paris. When just a few months later, 24 cartloads of the Talmud were publicly burned on the same spot, R’ Yona felt like he was guilty and it was in an attempt to do Teshuva for this sin, that he composed “Gates of Repentance”.

Anyways, back to the debate on the nature of Teshuva. For the Rambam, Teshuva is a real “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” endeavor. There are 4 difficult stages that one uses to make real change. It is completely self-generated. G-d’s only role is to be the “All Knower” (יודע תעלומות) to testify that real change has occurred. The Rambam goes so far as to say that real Teshuva must happen when the sinner is just as strong as when the sin was originally committed and does Teshuva from a place of strength and discipline and not weakness or fear. Imagine, an elderly person, looking back with deep remorse and pain over actions done when they were younger. This person cries out to Hashem in agony and begs Hashem to help him make amends. According to Rambam, this is not real teshuva (תשובה גמורה). This is weakness.

Contrast this with the Teshuva of R’ Yona. He opens his book on Teshuva by saying that Teshuva is one of the greatest gifts that G-d has given us. Teshuva is a gift. It is divine grace. He says that Teshuva even works if generated from the most painful place and that it is impossible without Hashem helping us. We cannot do it by ourselves. When I think about R’ Yona’s Teshuva, I think about the very moving line which we only say during Neilah – אתה נותן יד לפושעים – “G-d, you stretch out your hand to the sinners.” It is, as if, we are stuck in our sin. We cannot pull ourselves up by our bootstraps. We need G-d to stretch out G-d’s hand and help us get up. For R’ Yona, feeling (and expressing) our vulnerability before G-d enables us to repent and become much stronger.

So who is correct? Rambam or R’ Yona?

When I was in High School and college, I was a real Maimonidean! The moral strength and discipline of Rambam’s Ba’al Teshuva (Penitent) impressed me. As for R’ Yona, I thought it was for weak people who didn’t have the requisite moral strength.

But now 20 years later (and especially being a rabbi for 13 years sitting with so many of you through difficult times as you expressed your own vulnerabilities, guilt, longings, and pain), I no longer think the same. Now, I don’t think that R’ Yona is for weak people. I think it is just for people. People who are struggling with life’s challenges and many times feel like “I cannot do this on my own.” And now I understand that feeling that vulnerability and turning to others (relatives, friends, and G-d), makes us so much stronger.

One more example. We open every Amidah (silent prayer) with the same 6 words. ד' שפתי תפתח ופי יגיד תהלתך – My Lord, open my lips, so that my mouth may declare Your praise.

I think I have said that line at least 30,000 times, yet I never looked up its original source. It turns out that it comes from the 51^st Psalm which begins with the words, A Psalm for David when Nathan the prophet came to him after Bat Sheva. We know about David’s moral failing. Bat Sheva was married to Uriah. After the sin, David tried to cover it up and eventually sent Uriah to the front lines to basically make sure he wouldn’t survive. Bat Sheva gets pregnant and has a baby who dies in childhood. And David is sitting with all of this stuff when Nathan the prophet comes to him. Nathan says, “David, I have a question for you.” He presents a case of a rich man and a poor man who are neighbors. The rich man has tons of livestock and the poor man has one beloved lamb. The rich man has a guest and instead of feeding the guest from his abundant livestock, he steals the lamb from the poor person, slaughters it and feeds it to his guest.  When King David hears this case from Nathan the Prophet, he is so angry (ויחר אף דוד) and he says that “that man is deserving of death (בן מות האיש העשה זאת). And then Nathan looks David in the eyes and says the two scariest words in the entire bible – אתה האיש (You are that man).

And when David hears that, he is so broken that he composes Psalm 51. He starts by saying, חנני אלקים כחסדך, Hashem treat me with grace. I cannot do this by myself. חטאתי לנגדי תמיד – I cannot stop thinking about and feeling my sin. אל תשליכני מלפניך – don’t abandon me. I need you so much right now. I have a רוח נשברה, לב נשבר – a broken (cracked) spirit and heart. David is basically telling G-d that I cannot do this myself. I cannot pull myself up by my own bootstraps. I need your help. And then he says ד' שפתי תפתח ופי יגיד תהלתיך. Please open my mouth. I don’t even know what to say. Please help me.

I hope that every time, we say those 6 words before the Amidah, we feel David’s vulnerability. David’s vulnerability came from his mistakes and from tragic setbacks that he had in life and I think all of that went into his ד' שפתי תפתח – G-d please help me. Open my lips. Let’s let ourselves feel it too. It’s the key to prayer. It is no wonder that we start every prayer with those words.

When we are vulnerable, we feel the cracks in our hearts. This is so important. There is a beautiful stanza from Leonard Cohen’s song “Anthem.”

Ring the bells that still can ring

Forget your perfect offering

There is a crack, a crack in everything

That’s how the light gets in.

On Yom Kippur, it is ok to feel the cracks in our heart. We don’t have to pretend. We can express our vulnerabilities to others and to Hashem. It will make us stronger.

We are about to say Yizkor. A few months ago, I was at an unveiling and I heard a granddaughter say about her grandfather that she now realizes that relationships don’t end at death. Her relationship with her grandfather was getting deeper as she was understanding more about him and feeling his presence in her life in even deeper ways. Let us use this Yizkor to be vulnerable with our deceased loved ones. Tell them what you want to work on, your struggles and your fears. Let them hold you and love you with all of your vulnerabilities.

I would like to close with a tefilah. The beautiful words of Yehei Rava that we say when we take out the Torah (I was listening to the Eitan Katz version of this song over and over on erev Yom Kippur). Yehei rava kadamach - May it be Your will Hashem. That you open our hearts with the Torah (and not only through cracks from pain but also opening of the heart from new insights). And then with our open hearts, תשלין משאלין דלבאי – you fulfill the deepest wishes of our hearts. לטב ולחיים ולשלם for good, for life and for peace. 

May Hashem bless us all with a G’mar Chasimah Tova.

Rosh Hashana 5780 - "Shofar: A sound of Eternity"

In the summer of 2016, I went to Israel on a rabbinic Mission (with AIPAC). But the trip was not a typical Israel trip where you visit all the ancient holy sites. Instead, we spent much of our time learning about Israeli innovation and technology. We learned from IDF generals all about the newest military technology of Iron Dome and David Sling. We met with CEO’s of startup companies and high tech and learned about amazing Israeli inventions including about tiny chips that were in cell phones all across the world. We learned from Directors of Hospitals about Israeli medical technology that was used all around the world to improve quality of life for individuals with disabilities. It was truly amazing and inspiring to think about what our tiny little country is innovating for itself and for the whole world. 

But I started getting worried towards the end of the trip that I wouldn’t have a chance to go the Kotel. So I woke up very early to daven vatikin (pray at sunrise) at the kotel (which that day was about 5:40!). At about 5 am, I leave my beautiful modern sleek hotel. I pass Jerusalem’s shiny new light rail system (started 2011). And with a week of learning about Israeli innovation in my mind, I cross through Jaffa Gate (year 1538) and things get old really fast. I am sure many of you have walked this route many times, so please join me in your mind. I pass by Migdal Dovid (parts of which go back 2800 years!). I then make a right and walk toward the Armenian Quarter. I make a left onto the cobblestones of St James street (hundreds of years old), enter into the Jewish Quarter. I pass the Hurva Synagogue (300 years old), the Cardo (1900 years old), take the steps down and arrive at the Kotel (just a few hundred feet from where Abraham almost sacrificed Isaac about 3800 ago). I then put on my tefilin which had words that are 3300 years old. I start to daven. There is a cacophony of sounds. There are ashkenazi and sephardi and chassidic minyanim. Jews from Yemen, South Africa, US, Mexico, Europe and of course Israel are all praying. Each group praying their own way and almost competing to be louder! There are even a number of secular soldiers chatting away as they protect us. The noise level is incredible for 5:30 in the morning! And then at exactly 5:40 all of the minyanim start the Amidah. And there is complete silence. It was in that moment that I had one of those life transforming experiences. In that silence, I not only felt the קבוץ גליות (ingathering of exiles) as I was praying with jews from all over the world. I also felt a קבוץ הזמן (ingathering of time). As I was experiencing the oldest of the old just kilometers from the newest of the new. The Oldest of the Old together with the Newest of the New. Past Present and Future all folding into that one moment of silence. 

This is why I think so many of us feel so alive when we visit Israel. It is because we are experiencing a melting together of Past, Present and Future when we are there. 

In the summer of 1967, Rabbi Dr. Abraham Joshua Heschel visited Israel just months after the 6 Day War. Heschel tells us that when he arrived at the Kotel for the first time, he understood that the Bible was still Alive. That its chapters were still being written! And then he said a phrase which I want you to remember. He said that “Jerusalem is our Past meeting our Present to encounter our Future.” Let me say that again! “Jerusalem is our Past meeting our Present to encounter our Future.”

It is no coincidence that in 1902, when Theodor Herzl wrote his novel about a future Jewish State, he called it Altneuland (The Old New Land). He understood that the Jewish State’s success would come from bringing the Old and New together. 20 years later, when the book was translated to Hebrew it was called “Tel Aviv” (the city is named after the book, not the other way around!). ‘Tel’ is an archaeological mound which preserves layer of ancient history. ‘Aviv’ means spring or renewal. So ‘Tel Aviv’ is a poetic way of saying Old-New. (Thank you Rabbi Zach Truboff for this connection). It is a place where Past meets Present to Encounter our Future. 

But this is true not only about Jerusalem, Tel Aviv and Israel. Everytime we “do Judaism”, we are bringing together the oldest of the old and the newest of the old. We take a Mitzvah which is thousands of years old, we enable the very old mitzvah to meet our present, to help us encounter our future, to create a better future for ourselves, family and community. 

The shofar is also about the Past meeting the Present to encounter our Future. The shofar begins with the Past. The first shofar in the Torah was blasted at Mount Sinai when the Torah was given and we became a people. But we can rewind a few hundred years to the shofar of the Ram caught in the thicket during sacrifice of Isaac. But we can even go back hundreds of years earlier to the beginning of creation of Adam and Eve. Before they were created G-d was not King for G-d had no subjects (אין מלך בלא עם). So with the birth of Adam and Eve, G-d becomes King and according to one Tradition, the shofar was sounded to coronate G-d! So this is the Shofar of the past! It goes all the way back to the beginning of history. 

But this is not enough. The shofar must meet the Present. The Rambam tells us that the shofar is to wake us from our slumber. To remember the scale. We should see ourselves as in the balance - half guilty and half innocent. Whatever action we do right now (the past or future doesnt matter) makes all the difference and determines our fate. It cannot be more about the Now and the present. This reminds me of a great story with the Kotzker Rebbe (thank you Rabbi Shai Held!). One day, the Kotzker rebbe’s students ask him, “what is the definition of good jew.” The Kotzker says “that is easy. Anyone who wants to be a good jew, is a good jew.” The students don't like the answer! They say, “according to that definition, everyone is a good jew as everyone ‘wants’ to be a good jew.” The Kotzer responds, “No. You are only a good jew if you want to be a good jew. Not if you think you already are a good jew!”

The Kotzer is saying that it is about right now. What are you trying to do right now to be a good jew. We cannot rely on what we have done in the past. The shofar is certainly all about the past meeting the present.  

But it is not just about the Past meeting the Present. The shofar is the Past meeting the Present to encounter the Future. 

In the Musaf davening we ask G-d to blow the shofar of our redemption (תקע בשופר גדול לחרותינו). The prophet Isaiah tells us that “on that day, the great shofar will be sounded” and the ingathering of Exiles will take place. This is the shofar of the Future. Rabbi Yitz Greenberg teaches us that “Judaism, more than being a religion of Faith is a religion of Hope.” Of hope with a better future for our family, community, the Jewish People and all of Humanity. So when we blow the shofar, we allow our Past to meet our Present to help us encounter our Future. 

I have been reading this amazing book (If All the Seas Were Ink: A Memoir by Ilana Kurshan). The book records 7.5 years of her life as lived through studying the Daf Yomi (daily page of Talmud Study). In intimate detail, Kurshan talks about her struggles and joys (divorce, relationships, eating disorder, emotional turmoil, marriage, birth of twins) through the prism of the daily daf. The book is an example of what powerful torah study is. She took the Past (ancient texts) allowed it to meet her Present to enable her to encounter her future. On January 4, we will be starting a new cycle of Daf Yomi. Our shul has about 15 people who are finishing the entire cycle. I hope many of you will consider starting with us for this coming cycle. It will transform your life. 

We are going to hear the shofar in just a few moments. I would like to encourage everyone here to pick one mitzvah for this year that you want to make your special mitzvah for the year. It could be an aspect of Kashrut, Shabbat, Family Purity, Brachot, Birkhat Hamazon, the bedtime shema, Tefillin or any mitzvah you choose. (Just don’t pick something like sukkah because as soon as sukkot is over, you are done with your mitzvah for the year!). Now apply the past, present, future model. Study the ancient laws, understand their meaning. Now let the Past meet your present as you incorporate it into your life in order to create a better future for you and your family. You pick the mitzvah but please commit to one before you leave today. 

I would like to conclude with a story. Many of you know Elise Berliner. She comes to shul every shabbat but she also comes every morning to study daf yomi. Back in February, Elise finished the entire Talmud (Bavli)!

At the siyum, she spoke beautifully about how studying Talmud has enhanced and strengthened her love and appreciation of Torah and Mitzvot. During the 7 1/2 year process, Elise only missed three days (the days when her mother died, when one son had a bar mitzvah and when the other son graduated). In preparation for the Siyum, Elise went back and studied those three pages. Elise recounted with great emotion how when she went back to look at the daf from the day of her mother’s death (a loss for which she was still in so much pain), she was shocked to see that the Daf talked directly to the topic of comforting the mourners. The Daf on the other two days also directly spoke to those joyous experiences of Bar Mitzvah and Graduation. Elise was using her Talmud study to have her Past meet her Present to help shape a better and richer judaism for her future. Where was Elise this morning on the day after the siyum? Back in her seat, starting the cycle again!

I bless all of us on this Rosh Hashana with a year of Good Health and Happiness. A year in which or deepest prayers are answered and a year in which we allow our Past to meet our Present to encounter our Future! Shana Tova!

New Zealand Massacre and reflections on our visit to a Mosque.

We woke up yesterday (Friday) to the devastating news that a White Nationalist Terrorist went into two Mosques in New Zealand and shot 50 Muslims while they were in the middle of praying. As soon as we heard, Rabbanit Fruchter and I knew that we had to do something to reach out to our local Mosque. We remembered how touched we were by so many people of other faiths attending our Friday Night Tefilah (service) on the shabbat after Pittsburgh so we really wanted to reciprocate. We contacted the Imam and president of a Mosque a few miles from our synagogue (both of whom we have relationships with) and expressed our condolences. We were warmly invited to attend their Friday Jummah prayer service.

A number of Beth Sholom members (and other clergy) joined our group. When we arrived, we saw a police car at the entrance. Unfortunately, this made us “feel at home” as now, unfortunately, this is a common sight at most shuls. We entered the Mosque and were struck by how warm and welcoming they were. And also how visibly moved they were by our presence.

After introductory prayers, there Imam got up and began his very powerful sermon. One part of the sermon brought tears to my eyes. He talked about the horrific nature of the shooter killing people in the middle of prayer. He encouraged people to imagine what it would be like if the shooter came in to their Mosque in Potomac, right then while they were praying. When the Imam said this I looked around and saw the very real fear of being Muslim in our country.

The reason this impacted me so much is that I vividly remember saying almost the same exact words to our synagogue on the shabbat after Pittsburgh and I remember the fear in the eyes of my own congregants. This was all the more complicated (and at the same time clarifying) by the fact that if an anti-Muslim shooter would have come to that Mosque in Potomac (instead of New Zealand) this past Friday, then among the victims, might have been members of my synagogue who were there in solidarity.

These thoughts of course were on my mind as we read Parshat Zachor (the commandment to remember Amalek and the terrible acts that they did to us). There is an obvious question. Why Amalek? It is true that Amalek attacked us but many other nations harmed us much more. The Egyptians enslaved us for hundreds of years and killed our babies. The Babylonians and Romans destroyed our temples and sent us into Exile. What did Amalek do that is so terrible that the Torah says that G-d is in an eternal battle with them?

If we read the verses carefully, the answer jumps out. The text says that when Amalek attacked - ויזנב בך. This comes from hebrew word Zanav (or tail). This would literally be translated as, “They (the Amalekites) tailed us.” Ibn Ezra tells us that this means that they attacked from the tail or rear and went after “the weak who did not have strength” and fell behind. Other commentaries point out that the victims were people who (for whatever reason) fell out of the Clouds of Glory that were the safety net of the Jewish People. So Amalek attacks the weak, the vulnerable those who for whatever reason don’t have social safety net.

When a racist shooter goes into an unprotected church in Charleston and kills nine African Americans who are at Bible Study, this is Amalek.

When an anti-semitic shooter goes into a synagogue in Pittsburgh and attacks the mostly elderly (and some disabled) congregants who were in the back of the shul, this is Amalek.

And when someone goes filming on Facebook Live on a shooting rampage in two Mosques in New Zealand, this is Amalek.

We don’t know the identities of the victims yet, but I have heard that many were immigrants, some were refugees from Syria. People who are running from conflict. Tired and vulnerable. This is Amalek.

So what do we do to fight Amalek? (This is not a political/security question. I will leave at up to the experts and security professionals.) I am asking a spiritual/ethical question. What should we do?

I grew up with the idea that when we see sin in others, we have to look inward and ask where have we fallen short. When we see other jews who are not keeping shabbat or Kashrut, we must ask what is missing in our observance that other jews are not wanting to take this on. Etc etc.

So when we see Amalek in others, (in addition to demanding that our society does everything to defend the defenseless), we must ask if there is any Amalek within us. This is the path of Mussar.

I think about this with a סור מרע, ועשה טוב (turn away from evil and then do good).

First the “turn away from evil.” I read some excerpts of the shooter’s manifesto. This is my reaction to his Manifesto. It is definitely true that nobody who know would ever contemplate going into a Mosque and killing people. However, I definitely know people who have said similar things (and in similar ways) to what was said in the Manifesto. Let me be clear. Policy arguments about immigration and borders and security are completely appropriate. But if you find yourself saying things about immigrants and Muslims in similar ways that appear in the Manifesto, you have to ask yourself about the Amalek within you. Words (and the way we say things) really matter and can have tragic results.

(As an aside, I think the same thing about those who are very critical of Israel. I am 100% in favor of policy debates and arguments about various actions that Israel has taken. But when language of “peaceful” critics sounds very similar to the language of terrorists (“zionist enemy” etc) then the peaceful activists have to ask themselves hard questions about Amalek within themselves.)

So that is the סור מרע (turning from evil). We must do everything to remove any trace of Amalek from our hearts.

Here is the עשה טוב (doing the good). I know it is a cliche but sometimes cliches are right on. “We must fight hate with love.” How do we respond to hateful shooting in a Mosque? By going to a Mosque and standing in solidarity with our Muslim brothers and sisters. We felt this so deeply both when we visited the Mosque yesterday and when our shul was full of people of other faiths on the shabbat after Pittsburgh. I was so moved to see rabbis and shuls from across the country visiting Mosques yesterday. I pray that our love, solidarity and support will overpower the hate.

I want to conclude with a prayer the kind of which I have never done before in a sermon. There is a story behind this prayer. I was looking over my email history with the Imam from the Mosque. Unfortunately, almost every email is a condolence email. In 2017 I reached out to him to express my condolences and offer support after a shooting at a Mosque in Quebec City. In 2018, he wrote me a very similar email after Pittsburgh. Then, yesterday, I once again wrote him an email after New Zealand. I told him that we have to stop sending condolence emails to each other. We have to write each other (and get together) for good things.

Well I did end up finding one email that was not about a bad thing. Two years ago, his Mosque was doing renovations and they were renting the social hall of the church next door. The Imam emailed before Eid (their biggest holiday of the year) and asked if they could use our parking lot for their expected very large crowd. We were able to accomodate and everything went well. Well just yesterday, I discovered an email that he sent me after Eid. Here it is

Dear Rabbi Nissan,

I wanted to sincerely thank you for accommodating us last week. I wanted you to know that in my sermon, I closed with a special prayer for you, your family, and your congregation. I hope you will pass this sentiment on to your community.

Best wishes for the rest of the summer and hoping we can meet again soon.

Best,

Tarek

First I am sorry that I did not see it and pass it on to the shul (I guess I am doing it now!).

Second, I was so moved by the fact that the Imam offered a prayer for our community in the middle of what is probably the most important sermon of the year.

The least I can do is reciprocate right now.

I would like to offer a prayer for Imam Tarek, his family and his community. We saw first hand their fear. We know that fear. We pray for you. We pray for all Mosques, Churches and Synagogues, people of all faiths. We pray that G-d prevents any form of Amalek from causing harm and we pray that G-d help us remove any trace of Amalek from our hearts and souls. We commit to love, support and solidarity. May G-d’s light and love shine on all of us and protect us.

Reflections on Thanksgiving and combating Anti-semitism from the Right and the Left

There was a moment during Thanksgiving dinner, when I had an interesting thought. We were passing around the turkey/stuffing/cranberry sauce and all of the required “minhagim” (customs)! I thought that Thanksgiving dinner was like a Yom Tov (festival) meal! The only difference is that this was one that we were doing with the rest of America; Jews and non Jews. Normally, when we as Jews celebrate holidays, we are going against the grain. We are shopping crazy for Pesach and for it is just a regular Tuesday for non-jews. They shop for costumes before Halloween and we shop the day after Halloween so we can get 50% off and save it for Purim! We experience the awe of Yom Kippur and for them it's a regular workday. Etc Etc.

But on Thanksgiving, we all are grateful and celebrate together. We eat the same food, watch the same football game and have the same curmudgeonly uncle who wants to talk politics as much as we try to keep it out!

So on Thanksgiving, I feel very much part of America. I always feel very accepted.

And then I think about Pittsburgh. And then I think about the string of anti-semitic attacks in shuls in Brooklyn these past few weeks. And then I remember the ADL stats about rising and unprecedented acts of anti-semitism.

I feel these two conflicting thoughts. On the one hand, as Jews, we have probably never been more accepted and part of a society. On the other hand, Anti-semitism (from the Right and the Left) is all around us.

Does the Torah give us any insight in how to deal with Anti-semitism?

Well, it just so happens that in our Parshah we have the classic text.

After many years, Yaakov return to the Land of Israel and he is about to confront his brother Esav who (Yaakov believes) wants to kill him. Esav has 400 men with him. The verse says that Esav “Runs to meet him.” Now if you are Yaakov, you are thinking, ‘this is the end for me.” But instead, Esav “hugs him, kisses him, falls on his shoulder and they weep.”  

It is a heart-warming scene. After all of the years of hatred and threats, reconciliation is possible. Love wins over hate.

But there is a whole school of Midrashim that is not so ready to accept that Esav has changed, that he now loves his brother.

You see, there are dots over the word, וישקהו (and He Kissed him). They understand this to mean that the Kiss is compromised in some way. One Midrash goes so far as to say that when Esav went in for the “kiss”, his plan was to bite Yaakov’s neck and kill him. But, miraculously, Yaakov’s neck turned into marble! When the text then says that they cried, this was not tears of an emotional embrace but instead Yaakov was crying because his neck turned into marble and Esav cried because his teeth fell out!

A different Midrash quotes the famous statement of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai: הלכה בידוע שעשיו שונא ליעקב - It is a well know Halacha that Esav hates Yaakov. It means that even when Esav (or generically all non-jews as it has come to be understood) shows love, we always must be suspicious. They still have hate for us which could come out at any moment.  

This was an idea that was very present in my life when I grew up. It was used in the following way. Suppose I would share with other Jews that a non-jewish person just moved in next door. If I would say that they are a really nice family and we have become friends. Maybe one of their children has become friends with ours. The response would be “Esav Soneh L’Yaakov - remember there is always hate. Be careful.”

This is only one perspective. If you look at Ibn Ezra, Rabbi Samson Rafael Hirsch, Haamek Davar and others, they all explain that Esav’s kiss was genuine. People can change. Groups that at once were anti-semitic can evolve over time. But the idea of Esav Hates Yaakov has had a very deep place in our consciousness especially in light of thousands of years of persecution.

There are two fascinating Responsa on this topic from the 1960’s and 70’s that I would like to share with you. The first from Rabbi Moshe Feinstein and the second from Rabbi Yosef Eliyahu Henkin.

First, from Rabbi Feinstein (Igros Moshe Choshen Mishpat 2 #77). The year was 1977. The question actually came from England. We only see his answer so we sort of have to figure out the question. The question is something like this. Jewish schools in England are apparently funded by the government. One Jewish school believed that it was not getting all the funding it deserved under the law. They had appealed to the British government unsuccessfully. For some (unexplained) reason, the school was able to sue the British government in another country to get them to provide the desired funding. Rav Moshe Feinstein was asked if the school should do this. He answered that they should definitely not do this because this could provoke British non jews against the Jews and cause great harm. Even if they (the non-jews) seem to be nice, we always have to remember that Esav hates Yaakov. Rabbi Feinstein concludes by explaining why the statement refers to anti-semitism as a “well known Halacha.” This is not a typical jewish law. He explains that it means that just as Jewish Law will never change (it is eternal) so too will the hate against jews never change. Even those who appear to be kind to jews, really have a hatred inside.

Rav Moshe’s responsum feels very similar to ideas that I heard as a child.

On the other hand, there is a fascinating responsum (really more of an essay) from Rav Henkin (Teshuvos Ivra #116) from 1968. The topic is anti-semitism and its causes. I will quote directly:

“The Preachers and Babblers are commiting a great sin when they always say “That it is a well know Halacha that Esav hates Yaakov, and that this hate is eternal. This is against Truth and against Rabbinic and Torah teachings. For Esav himself was not evil forever...As Ben Zoma taught: “Who is honored, the one who honors others.” This also refers to non-jews. When we honor them and say you are my friend, they become friends through this. And conversely, when we say “you hate us (you are an anti-semite), they become haters (anti-semites). We see this every day….”

This is my take away from Rabbi Feinstein and Rabbi Henkin. We need both. We need people to be vigilant and always worried about finding anti-semitism. But we also need people finding and pointing out love of Jews.

Thank G-d in our community, we have many people who find anti-semitism. What I mean by that is that jews on the Right are very good at finding every possible instance of anti-semitism on the Left and Jews on the Left are very good at finding every possible instance of anti-semitism on the Right! We find anti-semitism when it is explicit. We find it when it is hiding under a rock or when one time someone took a picture with someone else who is anti-semitic (don’t worry, there are examples of this on both Right and Left). Thank G-d we have organizations (again both on the Right and Left) dedicated to sniffing this stuff out and I am grateful for their work in keeping us safe.

But here is my worry. We are not doing enough of the Rabbi Henkin approach. We are not spending enough time finding instances of Love. And when Non-jews do reach out (with love and support) to us, we are so quick to question their motives or who they are or who they were once friends with (again, I see this happening on both the Right and the Left).

Of course, we cannot be naive. We must be vigilant. But we also have to learn to accept Love. As Rabbi Henkin says, people can change. And sometimes the way we can enhance philosemitism, is by embracing those who try to support us. And unfortunately, screaming “anti-semite” so loud all of the time and finding it under every rock might lead to more anti-semitism. Even when we have to be vigilant against anti-semitism, I wonder if there is better way to do it.

So we have Rav Moshe and Rav Henkin. Rav Moshe reminds us to be vigilant. Rav Henkin reminds us to not be over vigilant. It is a tough balance. But nobody ever said life is easy! I pray that the lessons of both great rabbis guide us with the very challenging issue of anti-semitism and philo-semitism in the 21st century!

Yom Kippur 5779: "In Praise of the Old - Why Middle Age Doesn't scare me!"

Some friends and I were having a “debate”. The debate - when exactly does middle age begin. One person said 40, another said 45 and a third person said 50 (a very optimistic person to call 50 middle age!). So since I am a rabbi and very interested in Halachic precision, I had to look it up to see if there is a precise age for when middle age begins. It turns out it is a Machloket (talmudic debate) of the great dictionaries. According to the Oxford English Dictionary and the Merriam-Webster, middle age begins at  45.  But according to great rabbi and Posek of psychology Erik Erikson and the Collins English Dictionary middle age beings at 40.  

This debate is very important to me because (at least according to one of the above definitions of Middle Age), I will, G-d Willing, become middle aged in 5779! Or maybe we should say “early middle age”. Or at least let’s say that I am beginning a second stage of my adult life. I am no longer “new” to being an adult.

This “early middle aged”/second stage seems to be a present theme in my life this year! I mentioned on Rosh Hashana that this is my bar mitzvah High Holidays at Beth Sholom. For those of you that are counting, that means that I am beginning my thirteenth year! While I hope to be here for many more years, I can no longer say that being at Beth Sholom is new for me. (I am certainly no longer in the honeymoon period!). I guess I am entering into an “early middle age” stage of my career, or at least a second stage of my career.  

In 5779, Sarah and I will have our Chai (18th) anniversary. Again, please G-d, we will have many, many more years of happiness together but I think that as we get close to our Chai anniversary, we cannot really be called newlyweds. I guess our marriage is early middle age or at least a second stage (maybe 2.5!!)

Finally, ss a dad, my oldest is 12 and just had her bat mitzvah. I am sure that there are still many new “dad” experiences that I will have (especially as my kids become teens) but I am no longer a new dad. I am in a second stage of parenthood.

So I look at my life and wonder what it means to be in a second stage of life where there aren't any new big things going on. While I feel very settled and anchored, part of me asks, where is the new? The fresh? The different?

I think that this question is very important for us no matter what stage of life we are in, even those of us who are currently experiencing something new (marriage, child, job). Because most of life, most of the time, for most people; is actually old and the same. We are in second (or third or fourth stages). And it is really those things (the old, same old, same old) and how we do with them, that determine our success in life.

So how do we deal with this human dilemma? On the one hand, we crave the new, the exciting, the different. On the other hand, most of life is the old and the familiar. How do we live with passion and excitement when most of our life most of the time is old and familiar.

Well there is something amazing that happened today 3300 years ago on Yom Kippur that speaks to this issue. Every holiday has a story. Pesach has the exodus, sukkot has the dwelling in the booths in the desert, shavuot has giving of the torah. Even on Rosh Hashana, the rabbis tells us that Sarah, Rachel, Chana conceived. But what happened on Yom Kippur? What is the story?

The rabbis teach us that Yom Kippur is actually when we received the Torah. But we dont stay up all night studying Torah like shavuot. This isn't the wedding/honeymoon at Har Sinai. No cheesecake or blintzes for us today! Rather this is the second giving of the torah after something terrible happened.

Let me remind you of the chronology.

On the 6th of Sivan, the Jews received Torah/Tablets #1. Thunder, lightning, revelation, direct encounter with G-d. Moshe then goes up for 40 days on the mountain to learn the torah. He comes down late. The jews jump ship. The look for the new shiny Golden Calf. Moshe comes down and smashes the tablets on 17th of Tamuz. G-d then says that he will destroy the people and start again. Start a new relationship and create a new people out of Moshe’s descendents. The theory was “The old wasn’t working anymore. Let's start something new.”

Moshe then pleads with G-d for a second set of 40 days. Finally, G-d forgives on the 29th of Av with the famous 13 attributes of mercy that we say over and over again. the next day, on the 1st of elul, moshe goes up for another 40 days to receive the torah/tablets again. And he comes down today on Yom Kippur.

This about it. The Jews received the covenant the first time on shavuot. It was new and shiny with much excitement. But it was almost lost. And both sides almost gave up. Yom Kippur is the miracle of trying a second time.

Yom Kippur isn't the wedding; it’s the renewal of vows.

It isn't the honeymoon in some exotic place; it's the boring early wednesday morning in your same old house 15 years into the marriage when you and your spouse have an important conversation and appreciate each other just a bit more.

Yom Kippur is not about something new but about appreciating the old. What you already have.

This concept of “appreciating the old” jumped out at me this morning when I walked into shul. This morning, I made a bracha (blessing) that I have never made in my entire life! This is a big deal for someone who grew up religious and is (or almost is!) middle aged!

Rabbanit Fruchter and I were trying to think of what to put on the cold brew coffee table which is usually a nice place for people to say Good shabbos/Yom Tov on a regular shabbat/yom tov. We obviously could not serve cold brew coffee on Yom Kippur. So we came up with the idea of a “Besamim Bar.” You are allowed to smell nice things on Yom Kippur. In fact there is a custom to pass around besamim and etrogim on Yom Kippur so people could make brachot and get up to the requisite 100 Blessings for the day (which are hard to reach because we have blessing on food).

So I walked in this morning and there was an orange at the Besamim bar. The Halacha is that when one picks up an orange to smell (usually I pick it up to eat), you say Blessed are you Hashem, who puts a nice smell in the fruit. הנותן ריח טוב בפירות.

I had never made the bracha before this morning. I picked up the Orange which I usually only appreciate for its taste (when it is actually good and I am not just wolfing it down as I run out of the house!) and, through the help of the bracha, I was able to appreciate this (same old same old) orange in a completely new way through smell. I really appreciated the Bracha. It is one thing for G-d to make an orange. But it didn't have to have a nice smell! It was about appreciating something that I have in my house all the time in a completely new way! This by the way is one of the great things about making blessings!

I am reminded of the value of appreciating the old every time I open the Machzor. True, it is nice to hear a new melody every once in a while. But we really look forward to the what we can call the “Oldies but Goodies”! There is nothing like the whole shul singing together that (same old, same old) Avinu Malkeinu that you sang as a child. Its true that the words and tune are the same. But we infuse it with new meaning every year as we bring our new selves with our new worries and hopes and gratitudes into that Avinu Malkeinu. It is not always about finding the new but finding renewed meaning and meaning in the old.

Now to conclude with a story. You know I love to end with a story! But this year, I was really struggling to find a story. Yom Kippur was getting closer and closer and I still did not have a story. A few hours before Yom Kippur, I remembered that Rabbi Telushkin (one of the greatest speakers and storytellers is coming to Beth Sholom for a shabbaton on December 1 for Lieberman/Silverman Shabbaton (you don’t want to miss it!).

So I decided, to throw a “hail Miriam” (I called it in shul a Hail Mary but people gasped thinking I was talking about the religious persona when really I was thinking football metaphor!). I emailed Rabbi Telushkin and told him my sermon topic (second stage, middle age, in praise of the old) and asked him if he had a story for me. About 1 hour before Yom Kippur, I was in my office and the phone rang. I was about to ignore it but then I saw the caller ID said “Joseph Telushkin”! I quickly picked up the phone, “Hi is this Rabbi Telushkin?” “Yes,” He answered. “I would like to tell you Yom Kippur dvar torah from my father.” I am thinking, “ok.” I asked for a story and he is giving me a dvar torah. So he tells me a beautiful dvar torah (that I hope to share another time) but it was not a story and it had nothing to do with my topic.

But then it hit me. “The Oldies but Goodies”. On erev yom kippur, Rabbi Telushkin likes to tell over (every year) the dvar torah from his father to get a deeper appreciation of his father. This resonated with me as I had just read the intro to his book on the Lubavitcher Rebbe. He describes (this is my own words…) how it first the project was really an old topic. His father had been the Lubavitcher Rebbe’s personal accountant and his grandfather had a deep relationship with the Rebbe. So it was not the same kind of exciting research project as some of his other books. But then, as he got into the project, everytime he would go to Crown Heights, it was as if he was visiting his father and grandfather. He was gaining deeper appreciation and understanding of these “old” relationships through this new research.

We are about to recite Yizkor. During Yizkor, we reflect on those parts of our lives that our the oldest; Family, parents, values and community. We look for new insights and appreciation of those aspects of our lives that have always been there with us.

My Bracha to all of us is that we remember that the most important things in life are those things that we already have. The new is wonderful but our success as people and Jews will come from how we do the “old.” I hope we can reflect on that throughout our prayers and be sealed in the Book of Life.