Hello.  Hello. 

As you are settling in, finding your people, your table and getting your food, I want to not only officially welcome you all to this stunning Celebrating of Catherine, and also to thank each and every one of you here for making this a true Community endeavor, one totally fitting for this celebration.  As Catherine has brought us and stood for the importance of community engagement here at RS, tonight her community with this extraordinary spread is demonstrating just how much she has meant to us.

As everyone here has contributed in one way or another, I want to express my gratitude to you all for your commitment and devotion to fulfilling our vision of what this could be.  Tonight’s celebration would not be possible without the Vision of Rabbi Maderer, the support of Mike and Hank, and the endless work of Alyssa, Alicia and Julia.  Without them, and without you, our vision for a most fitting celebration of Catherine could/would never have happened.

Rabbi Freedman delivered this sermon at Shabbat evening service on January 31.

We are still in Egypt. In this week’s Torah portion, we learn about the final three plagues, and Pharaoh ultimately agreeing to release the Israelites from bondage. But, for now, we are still in Egypt for one more week.

After 40 years of wandering in the wilderness, the Israelites will eventually make it to the biblical Land of Israel. However, we never get there in our Torah readings. We end each yearly lectionary cycle on the far side of the Jordan river— never quite making it to the Promised Land.

In 1948, the Jewish people saw the actualization of an almost 2000 year old dream— the creation of the modern State of Israel. We returned to the historic land of Israel. And although we now have a physical Jewish homeland, in many ways, we have not yet reached the Promised Land – in many ways, we are still in Egypt.

Israel is the homeland for the entire Jewish people. But when the Israeli government pays the salaries of hundreds of Orthodox rabbis and only nine Reform rabbis, we are still in Egypt. 20% of Israelis are Orthodox; so when 100% of Jewish marriages are controlled by the Orthodox rabbinate, we are still in Egypt.

When the Western Wall, the holiest site in the world for all Jews, is set up as a gender segregated prayer space, we are still in Egypt.

And when funds from the JNF (the Jewish National Fund) are illegally used to support settlement expansion, we are still in Egypt.

Many of the complex issues that face Israeli society feel beyond our control. As American Jews, we cannot vote in the upcoming, unprecedented third Israeli parliamentary elections in less than a year. There was also a Middle East peace plan unveiled this week by the White House that sadly, further illustrates our diminishing role in shaping a two state solution.

Underscoring the problematic, unilateral nature of this most recently plan, head of our movement, Rabbi Rick Jacobs wrote, “We laud all efforts to bring peace and firmly believe that a secure Israel side by side with a viable Palestinian state is in the best interest of American foreign policy and, of course, for the future of Israel as a Jewish and democratic state. We also believe that peace must be negotiated directly by the parties, with American support.”

At the end of the day, America cannot solve the Middle East conflict; we have lost credibility as an unbiased mediator and much of the work is now up to Israelis and Palestinians.

With so much of Israel’s future feeling beyond our control, what then, are we, as committed Reform Zionists, to do? Well, I am here tonight to tell you that for only $7.50 you can have a direct impact on the future of the State of Israel.

You have the power, like Moses and Aaron and Miriam, to bring us out of Egypt and into the Promised Land that Israel should and can be.

Between January 21 and March 11, American Jews can vote in the World Zionist Congress elections. By voting you will be able to choose one of the many slates representing diverse political beliefs, religious denominations, and cultural traditions. This coming October, the 152 delegates elected from the United States will join hundreds from Israel and around the world at the 38th World Zionist Congress, the international “parliament of the Jewish people,” to make decisions and set policies regarding key institutions that allocate nearly $1 Billion annually to support Israel.

ARZA, the Association of Reform Zionists of America, the Zionist arm and voice of the Reform Movement, is one of the slates running in this election, and I believe it is the slate best suited to help bring us out of Egypt and make Israel a Promised Land for all.

This is not just theoretical. The WZC has real power and these decisions affect people’s lives in powerful ways.

I just received an email the other day from Kol HaNeshama – an amazing Reform synagogue in Jerusalem. They were once again asking for financial support from American Reform Jews, as the government has consistently withheld funding from them. ARZA delegates to the WZC will work to ensure that Reform synagogues in Israel get the same funding as Orthodox ones.

Two years ago, at Temple Emanu-El of New York City, prominent progressive rabbis officiated at the weddings of three Israeli couples who were deprived of the right to marry at home because they are not considered to be Jews according to Israel’s chief rabbinate, because they are gay, or because they reject the rabbinate’s rigid control over Jewish marriages and divorces. ARZA delegates will work to end the Orthodox monopoly of marriage in Israel.

When our congregation brought a group of high school students to Israel a few years ago, I saw first hand the bigotry that exists at the Kotel, the Western Wall. What should have been the highlight of the trip for many, was a difficult and painful experience as young women in our group were admonished for wearing kippot or not being modest enough. ARZA delegates will work to ensure that the Western Wall is a place for all Jews.

The president of ARZA, Rabbi Josh Weinberg,  notes in a recent Times of Israel blog post, “Due to our strength in numbers, stemming from the [last] WZC elections, we were able to blow the whistle on secretive land purchases, exposing behind-the-scenes funding of settlements. We took action as soon as we were alerted to the circumvention of funds. But, let me be clear – we are not cutting ties with KKL [The Jewish National Fund]. On the contrary. If we don’t have a presence there, this behavior would have continued. It was the very fact of our leadership position, and our presence, that allowed us to demand transparency, full accountability, and change.”

ARZA delegates will be our voice for a progressive Israel.

So, if you live in America, are over the age of 18, identify as Jewish, and are not planning on voting in the March 2nd Israeli elections, then go online to arza.org, pay the $7.50 administrative fee, and cast your vote for a pluralistic, democratic, and egalitarian Israel.

In this week’s potion, Moses says to Pharaoh that “we will not know where we are going to worship God until we arrive there.” (Exodus 10:26) On the surface, he meant that remark to keep Pharaoh in the dark. Ironically, however, Moses himself wasn’t sure where they were to worship God. Uncertain of their destination, not knowing what they were to do when they got there, the Jews had to be willing to take a leap of faith into the unknown.

We do not know what the future holds for Israel. But we can have a role in shaping it. Your vote is the only democratic opportunity you have to influence Israeli society as we continue our efforts towards equality, pluralism and tolerance.

In the coming weeks, as our Torah tells the story of our ancient ancestors leaving Egypt for the Promised Land, let us have hatikvah, the hope, that we too can journey together out of Egypt and make Israel a Promised Land for all.

Ken Yehi Ratzon, May This be God’s Will.

Delivered by Rabbi Jill Maderer at Shabbat service on 1/3/2020.   

The lights of Hanukkah now dim, I can see as clearly as ever, how desperately the world needs our light. I have been outraged to witness American Jews attacked in antisemitic acts on every night of Hanukkah and beyond.  And I have taken solace, and found inspiration from your presence in our Community and knowing we stand together.

One of our responses to antisemitism needs to be the practical security review.  The recent security updates that have been reported to the congregation over this passed year, already address the rise in antisemitic acts and so, for that we can feel a sense of reassurance, even in a world without complete certainty.

Another of our responses to antisemitism is the expression of solidarity with other the Jews, the welcoming of solidarity from non-Jews, and the readiness to reach out in solidarity when other groups are in need.

Tonight the response to antisemitism I’d like to focus on, is perhaps the most critical of all.  We respond to the rise in antisemitism in the very same way, that we respond to every single day: by living full, vibrant Jewish lives. Just as we publicized the miracle of Hanukkah with our Hanukkiot in the windows, we boldly and publicly live lives inspired by Torah, mitzvot and the generation of Jewish who came before us.

Continue reading

By Doug Rosenblum, Chair of the Rodeph Shalom Gun Violence Prevention Task Force

By Doug Rosenblum, Chair of the Rodeph Shalom Gun Violence Prevention Task Force

By Carl W. Schneider*

God’s first words to Abram (whose name had not yet changed to Abraham) in their initial communication were “Go forth…to a land that I will show you. I will make of you a great nation.”  (Gen 12:1-3)  God never identified himself as a deity, as He did in other important messages (Gen. 17:1, Ex. 3:6)  At the time Abram was 75 and childless.  According to the record, Abram did not ask the obvious questions such as:  Who am I listening to – you have not identified yourself? How can a childless couple consisting of a 75 year old man with an elderly barren wife create a family of many offspring?  In fact the record indicates that Abram did not utter a single word in the entire encounter.  Without any due diligence and without any further communication with God, Abram simply followed the instruction and went forth with his family heading for the Promised Land.  (Gen. 12-4)  Here is my alternative narrative.                

Abram said to God.  I am overwhelmingly grateful at your generous and unexpected offer. I am thrilled at the prospect You and my family will enter a covenantal relationship.  Please indulge me if I request some clarification.

My counsel taught me that if an offer seems too good to be true, it probably is too good to be true. As I understood your proposal, all I must do is go forth to the place you designate to receive land, progeny and all of the other wonderful benefits you described.  As presented, there are no strings attached.  You have not stated any material expectations for performance on my part, beyond going forth to claim the prizes.  Tell me what consequences are likely to follow.  Will anything be expected of me or my descendants —  any quid pro quo — if I relocate in the Promised Land?

After a moment of hesitation, God replied.  Well, I mention that your descendants will be subjected to 400 years of hard slavery in Egypt.  But rest assured that I will use a series of miracles to deliver them from the yoke of slavery at the end of that period, and they will leave with great wealth.  (Gen. 15:14)

In lieu of the yoke of slavery, your descendants will accept the yoke of Torah.  They will receive a set of 613 rules to follow.  The rules will cover how they run their business and farms, employee relations, the food they eat, the clothes they wear, what they do when rising in the morning, retiring at night, or leaving their homes.  The rules specify fast and feast days as well as other holidays to observe during the year.  In fact most of life’s activities are covered by the rules.  Some of the rules control what they must do, others what they may not do.  The reasons for some rules will be obvious.  Others may seem totally arbitrary, with no apparent rationale.

Many of the rules will require ritualized burning of items such as animals, birds, grain or oil.  Some items are to be incinerated to smoke and some are simply well grilled.  A particular branch of your family will be designated to perform these rituals, and they will be entitled to eat some of the choicer items that are to be burned, such as grilled meats.

All rules must be followed.  I am slow to anger.  But I will become seriously vexed if I detect significant violations by leaders or widespread violation by the masses.  The offenders will be subject to chastisements of My choosing.  For example, if I specify the fire pan design for the burning rituals, and an official uses alien fire, he might be consumed by flames on the spot.  (Lev. 10:1-2)  If a group becomes rebellious, the earth may swallow them up.  (Num. 16:31-34)  If a legitimate leader is challenged inappropriately, the challenger may suffer a debilitating skin rash.  (Num. 12:10)  It is my policy to impose punishments not only on wrongdoers but also to the fourth generation of their families.  (Ex. 20:5).

There may be some controversy within your descendants about how the rules are followed.  Early on, many in your family will get involved with a golden calf.  The details are unimportant.  Suffice it to say, 3,000 from the calf party will be slaughtered by the group that knows how to do the right thing. (Ex. 32:28).

You should know that on the way from slavery to the Promised Land, one generation will be forced to wander for 40 years, and eventually die, in the dessert.  They will face food insecurity and other hardships.  The people will complain endlessly about their leadership and their harsh conditions while on the move.

When you get to the Promised Land, you will find it occupied by several other nations.  Ten of your 12 scouts will tell you that the natives look like giants and your tribe will look like grasshoppers in their eyes.  Their cities will be well fortified.  (Num. 13:31-33)  But have confidence.  I will once again use my superior powers to deliver you a victory. You will conquer the Promised Land and occupy it with My help.

Although we are making the covenant now, when you area 75, you will be 100 when I announce Sarah’s forthcoming initial pregnancy.  (Gen. 17:1, 18:10)

I will expect you to change your name from Abram to Abraham and your wife will change hers from Sarai to Sarah.  (Gen. 17:5, 17:15)

You and Sarah will have a son, but it will not occur 25 more years, when you are 100.  (Gen. 17:1-2, 21:5).

As a mark of our covenant, you and all your male descendants will have to be circumcised.  (Gen. 17:10-14)  Abram replied, etymologically I know that the word means to “cut around,” but I am not familiar with this ritual.  What is to be cut around?  God explained.

Abram said to God, you have given me much to ponder.  I will consult my counsel and give you my response tomorrow.

Abram rose early the next morning and called out to God, saying here I am.  Reluctantly I must decline Your gracious offer.  But I remain very anxious to enter into a covenant with You.  Permit me to share my concerns.

My family is well established here in Haran.  We have adequate land for our farms and for grazing our herds and flocks.  My elderly father has a high end idol shop in Haran, Terah & Son, which will some day be mine if I remain here.  I have promised my father that I would run the shop as long as he lives and I would I not feel right in leaving Haran at this time. I love the idea of having children of my own, but I already have a nephew, Lot, who is now like a son to me.

Submitting my descendants to 400 year of slavery is a non-starter.  It is something I could not consider.

Frankly, I am very troubled that the Promised Land is currently occupied by other nations and we must take possession of the land by conquest.  I anticipate that those nations will want to retake what was once their ancestral homelands and we will be subjected to an endless series of wars.  Even if You can assure us victory with Your superior powers (after all, who is like You among all the other gods. Ex. 15:11)), , we would not want to live under a perpetual threat of attack if not actual warfare.  No matter how often we win, if we lose one war we can be expelled from the Promised Land or pushed into the sea .

(Although Abraham did not say so, he felt there was a bait and switch element from the land offer in the initial conversation.  He expected the desert wandering to lead to a vacant territory his descendants could simply enter peaceably and claim as their own.  In fact it would lead to the border of a area settled by others which would have to be occupied by force of arms.) 

Besides, moving is a complicated and expensive proposition.  I noticed that Your proposal that I go forth did not include any reimbursement for moving and relocation expenses.  If our final arrangement does involve my relocation, I will expect such reimbursement.

In summary, Your proposal is very tempting, but Sarai and I are very well and comfortably established here in Haran.  We feel that we cannot accept Your proposed covenant in exactly the terms offered.  Permit me, with respect, to suggest a few changes and I believe we could then enter a covenant on mutually agreeable terms.

First, drop the relocation provision, which will also eliminate the need for a generation doomed to dessert wandering.  I agree that our descendants will need more land as our family grows.  The area around Haran is thinly populated.  Secure additional space for us that will be needed for our growing tribe within 300 miles of Haran.  The precise number of square miles can be determined in further discussion.

Second, the slavery condition is out of the question under any circumstances.  In passing I note that the value of the labor pool represented by the slaves for 400 years is far out of proportion to the benefits we would receive from the covenant.

Here is my alternative suggestion on the point of a labor pool.  For five generations, each male in our tribe will agree to five years of indentured servitude starting at age 13.  They will work on building fixed or portable tabernacles or temples, as well as other infrastructure projects for the good of the community that You designate.  All labor-related provisions of the 613 rules will apply to the indentured servants.

Third, I suggest two changes in your punishment policy.  I feel it is unfair for anyone to be punished for wrongdoing of an ancestor.  Only wrongdoers should be punished, but not their children or later generations of their families.  Also, when you design punishments, we would like assurance that you access Your attribute of mercy as well as Your attribute of justice.

Fourth, I am feeling very queasy about circumcision, especially in my age. Adult circumcision can cause serious disability. (Gen. 24:38).   Let us substitute a distinctive tattoo on the thigh, say a six pointed star, instead of cutting.

Fifth, I don’t make us wait until I am 100 to have our first child.  Sarah will be post menopausal by then and who knows about our fertility.  (Gen. 18:11)  Arrange for us to have our son here in Haran as soon as practical.

One other point I consider non-substantive but important.  I are very pleased that my descendants will be Your Chosen People, Your personal possession, a kingdom of priests, a blessing to the world and a light to the nations.  However, I fear that if these special relationships become widely known, they will cause hostility, jealousy and resentment among our neighbors.  Our special positions may cause us more detriments than benefits, by subjecting us to prejudice, discrimination and possibly even expulsion.  Therefore, I suggest that any information regarding our special status or relationship be kept strictly confidential between You and my family elders and not made known to any third parties.  On my side, our special status will be disclosed only to senior leaders on a need-to-know basis.

God, if You will agree to these changes, I, on behalf of myself, Sarai and all of our descendants, will accept You as our one and only God and you shall be our One.   Our covenantal relationship will be in accordance with the terms You stated, subject to these changes.

God said to Abram, I knew you were smart, cautious and well represented by counsel.  Indeed, that is one of the reasons I selected you for the proposed covenant.  I am not surprised that you have made a counterproposal, but I am frankly surprised by the scope of the modifications you suggest.  My answer is …

Epilogue

After several rounds of counterproposals from each side and some tense negotiation, the God and Abraham agreed as follows:  The Promised Land would remain in Canaan.  Abraham would relocate at his own expense.  The period of slavery was reduced to 20 years with the possibility of reduced time for good behavior.  The tribe would be permitted to travel through the dessert at whatever pace it set for itself.  It was estimated that the trip to the Promised Land would take six to 12 months.  God agreed to punish only wrongdoers, but not their offspring.  God rejected Abram’s proposal that Sarah become pregnant as soon as possible.  Both parties agreed it was not be ideal to travel while Sarah was pregnant or when the family included a newborn.  So, it was agreed that Abraham and Sarah’s son would be born as soon practical after their arrival at the Promised Land.  All the other terms proposed by God were agreed upon.

Because the covenant was to last in perpetuity, God agreed with Abraham’s suggestion that it be reduced writing.  As adopted, it confirmed God’s authority to adopt statutes, ordinances, rules and regulations, without limitation as to subject matter.  However, God agreed to publish proposals and allow 60 days for public comments,  which He would consider, before adopting any definitive versions.

Lot agreed to take over the management of Terah’s idol shop, which was very satisfactory to Terah.  Terah felt that Abram had tried his best but was not an effective salesman, probably because Abram was never convinced that idols could really accomplish anything.

Abraham’s counsel breathed a sigh of relief when the final covenant was concluded.  He realized in hindsight that there was a very delicate balance between negotiating the best possible deal and being overly aggressive to the point where no agreement can be reached.  Abraham had no bargaining leverage. By requesting multiple changes, he had gambled that God would not simply select another available candidate for His favors.  At times it seemed likely that negotiations would fall apart, and that Abraham would miss what would turn out to be a very favorable arrangement.

The covenant itself changed with time.  Before Jacob would accept God as a deity, Jacob insisted on several significant conditions that God would have to fulfill first. (Gen. 28:20-22)  By the time of Sinai, the momentum reversed.  God imposed a whole Torah full of commandments on the Abraham’s descendants that were never mentioned to Abraham before he left Haran.

Author’s Note

The formal record of the covenant raises another question worth considering: Why did God select Abraham as His covenant partner in the first place?  With the goal of starting a large tribe, it was odd for God to pick an elderly childless couple with the spouses questioning their own fertility.  (Gen. 18:10-11)  Why not start with a younger couple that had already borne children and proven their fertility?

It is easy to surmise why God picked some key figures.  The record tells us that Noah was selected to save humankind the and the animals from the Flood because he was a righteous man, blameless in a lawless age.  (Gen. 6:9)  When God picked Moses to lead the Exodus, He selected the only Hebrew in all of Egypt who was raised as a family member of the royal court.  He was familiar with its ways.  Who was better suited to negotiate with Pharaoh?

What does the record tell us about Abraham?  He was simply a generic upper middle class rancher and businessman.  He was successful but not a self-made man.  Rather, he was born into a wealthy and prominent family.  Abraham was fairly worldly and could act as a mensch.  He knew the conventions in buying property, a burial cave, from a neighbor.  It was inappropriate to accept a purported gift of the property when everyone knew he was expected to decline the gift and pay full price.  (Gen. 23:10-16)  He knew the hospitality one was expected to extend to strangers in the dessert.  (Gen. 18:2-8)  When it became necessary to part from Lot, Abraham gave his nephew the first choice of locations.  (Gen. 13:9-12)  He would stand up to God and plead for justice in the case of Sodom and Gomorrah (Gen. 18:23-32), although not when God demanded the sacrifice of Isaac. (Gen 22)

But Abraham could also act in a shameful and caddish way.  For his own safety, he twice passed off his beautiful wife Sarah as his sister, and he caused her to participate in the deception.  He resorted to this reprehensible scheme to fool local leaders, who might have killed her perceived husband in order that that they could consort with Sarah.  However, these leaders would not feel the need to harm her perceived brother in order to consort with her.  (Gen. 12:10-16, 20:1-16)  What a trauma to inflict on Sarah!

I find little in the record suggesting that he had any special qualifications to be God’s covenant partner.  In passing, we are told that God selected Abraham to pass the law on to his children (Gen. 18:19), but there is no indication that he had any special talent as an instructor.  Like most of the patriarchal family, he was an imperfect person with character flaws.  Indeed, God may have picked Abraham not because he was especially qualified but precisely because he was so typical — an everyman if you will.

If Abraham had over-negotiated the covenant and caused the discussions to abort, no doubt God could have found many other covenant candidates, even in the small town of Haran, whose credentials were equal, if not superior, to Abraham’s.   In hindsight, it was probably quite prudent of Abraham to accept God’s terms, no questions asked.

*  Mr. Schneider, a retired Philadelphia lawyer, is a member of Philadelphia’s Congregation Rodeph Shalom, and participates regularly in Torah Study led by the Congregation’s renowned Clergy.

Rabbi Jill Maderer wrote this article for the December Bulletin.

I can picture, as a young child, sitting at my family’s Shabbat table on an evening when our Rabbi was there as our guest. I remember he and my parents were engaged in a conversation about the importance of the Reform Movement. Rabbi Kroloff spoke about the Movement’s thought leadership and resources such as the youth movement and summer camps. He spoke about the social justice voice of about 1,000 North American congregations and the network of leaders who support each other. He spoke about responsibility to the whole— to think not only of our own Jewish lives and synagogues but about the Jewish people. And most of all, Rabbi Kroloff spoke about how powerful it is to be a part of something greater than ourselves.

The Reform Movement shaped me— summer programs such as Mitzvah Corps, National Federation of Temple Youth (NFTY) in Israel, and Camp Kutz; youth groups, NFTY, and the Religious Action Center conferences; Reform Judaism on campus, Hebrew Union College, the new Reform prayer books, and social justice leadership; voices throughout the movement who teach me Torah, Mussar, Jewish values— all have taught me how to bring progressive Jewish values to the most complex questions of our time.

Today, still, I am moved by these experiences of Reform Judaism. My theology and my approach to Jewish community is grounded in the same idea: we are a part of something greater than ourselves. For me, this is the power of the Union for Reform Judaism (URJ) Biennial conference of 5,000 leaders. It is helpful to network with congregational

leaders all over the continent, and most of all, it is inspiring to learn and celebrate with people who do what we do— who build intentional, visionary congregational communities.

The URJ Biennial takes place this month and I am grateful to have been invited to co-lead (with a cantor from another congregation, Central Synagogue) the Friday evening Shabbat service. I will be at Biennial with (as of the time I write this) 22 of our Rodeph Shalom leaders who will be in attendance! If you won’t be there at the conference, you can access the service livestream at urjbiennial.org.

For the majority of our congregation, who of course can’t be there in Chicago at the Biennial in person, I’d like to take you in spirit! Please view this video and then, in order to help me prepare, email me or comment on the Facebook post with your responses to the questions posed:

1) What gives you strength?

2) How do we uncover the songs that are hidden in our lives?

3) What helps you feel a sense of liberation?

Rabbi Jill Maderer wrote this article for the November RS Bulletin.

I recently had the joy of co-leading a discussion in our 6th grade, along with Rabbi Freedman, during Berkman Mercaz Limud. Our topic was theology and the students raised a common question: is God good? I was struck by the nuance of the conversation that followed. The students opined that God could not be good because what’s good to one person or side, is not good to the next person or side. Inherent in their understanding of God’s role in our lives was the notion that our lives are different. Our perspectives are different.

I left that conversation with faith that the world will be a better place because these kids are in it and that they have much to teach us all.

I believe the framework of much of the conversation about Israel is hindered by an imposed need to take sides and to see only one perspective. As if one side is right, the other wrong. Is there a place where we can see the truth in more than one side? I don’t mean to say we should be centrist, although that is one legitimate approach to thinking. I mean can we feel strongly, passionately, about truths that exist in more than one camp?

I feel strongly, passionately about Israel as the homeland of the Jewish people, its spiritual center, its historical center, and its center as a modern expression of Jewish life. I believe Israel’s existence and security are critical to the survival of the Jewish people. I feel proud of Israel’s accomplishments in technology, agriculture, medicine, and bridge-building for people from all religions and backgrounds. And I feel proud of Israel’s exceptional approach to medical ethics as the nation that medically treats its enemy and travels to areas of the globe in crisis to provide relief. As a Jew, Israel is my people, my place, my roots.

I feel strongly, passionately, about the dignity, opportunity, education, and needs of the Palestinian people and other Arab neighbors. I believe a Two-State solution, that is, two states for two peoples, is the way to ensure self-determination for both nations. I oppose the Occupied Territories and long to see Israeli and Palestinian leadership find a way to end the occupation and ensure security and statehood for both. Our Jewish values mandate that a civilization centered in Judaism must also care for others.

Much of our public rhetoric hardly allows for both camps to be rooted in truth. But really, I only trust a voice about the Middle East if that person can speak of the anti-Semitism of the Holocaust AND the alienation of the Palestinians. I only trust a teacher if that person can recognize that Israel is called out by the United Nations for human rights violations in a way that is disproportionate to any other nation that is reprimanded AND the unjust life of the Palestinian who lives in poverty and insecurity. I only trust a thinker who understands that BDS is not about the methodology of Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions as it does not protest a policy of Israel; it protests the existence of Israel AND who understands that Israel’s technological advances mean little if it remains an occupier.

There is truth in both camps. And there are a few places I am finding the education I can trust that brings me the complex, multi-voiced truths. My teacher, Rabbi Eric Yoffie, former president of the Union for Reform Judaism, is my trusted teacher. Deeply committed both to Israel and to justice, he does not sacrifice the message of one side for the argument of the other; his position is whole. For me, this is Reform Zionism.

Our congregation is privileged to be welcoming Rabbi Yoffie as our Scholar-in-Residence on November 15-17, sponsored by the Joseph W. Rosenbluth Fund. With us, Rabbi Yoffie will explore commitment, political struggle, and challenging questions about our loyalties, our relationship, the Jewish people, and Jewish values.

Rabbi Eli Freedman delivered this sermon during the Yom Kippur morning services.

According to the Torah, who were the first Jews? I heard some Adam and Eves, I heard some Abraham and Sarahs, I think I heard someone say “my grandmother!” The correct answer is Abraham and Sarah, but it is a common misnomer to think that Adam and Eve were actually the first Jews. They are the first people, but it is not until twelve chapters into Genesis that we are introduced to Abraham and Sarah, the patriarch and matriarch of Judaism. If the Torah is the story of the Jewish people, why not start with Abraham and Sarah?

The authors and editors of the Torah were making an important point by telling a series of pre-stories before our progenitors arrive on the scene. The first four stories in the Torah all end poorly. Adam and Eve get expelled from the Garden, Cain kills his brother Abel, God destroys the entire world with a flood, and, in the Tower of Babel, God confounds our languages and scatters us across the world.

So why begin the Torah with so many negative stories of failure? In his book, A Lifetime of Genesis: An Exploration of and Personal Journey Through the Covenant of Abraham in Genesis, my teacher and Rodeph Shalom confirmand, Rabbi Henry Zoob, argues that the unifying theme of Genesis (and much of the Torah) is the Covenant of Abraham and Sarah. And for that precise reason, the editors of the Torah made a point to include stories of the pre-Covenant world.

According to Rabbi Zoob, these first four stories of Genesis teach us that the pre-Abraham and Sarah world could not function properly because it was missing the covenantal relationship between God and people. Although God spoke to Adam and Eve, and even walked with Noah, the world was not complete because it lacked brit – covenant.

The Hebrew word brit refers to something that binds, a contract, a pact that brings two parties together. We are most familiar with this word in the context of brit milah or bris, when we welcome a male child into the covenant using the ritual of circumcision. Of course for female children, we also welcome them into the exact same covenant using the same prayers. We are welcoming these children into the same covenant that was made with Abraham and Sarah in Genesis 12, when God commanded: “Go forth from your native land and from your ancestral house to the land that I will show you. I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you. I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing.”

It’s a pretty basic covenant; Abraham and Sarah are asked to do two things – leave their native land for Israel and to be a blessing. In return, they will be blessed and prosperous.

So why is the world so much better with this covenant than without? This is best illustrated with the story of Sodom and Gomorrah; the first test of the covenant. We read in Genesis 18:17-19: “Now Adonai had said, “Shall I hide from Abraham what I am about to do, since Abraham is to become a great and populous nation and all the nations of the earth are to bless themselves by him? For I have singled him out, that he may instruct his children and his posterity to keep the way of Adonai by doing what is just and right (tzedek u’mishpat)…” God tells Abraham about the impending destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. And what does Abraham do? He stands up to God and says, “Not cool, God. You can’t just sweep the innocent away with the guilty.” Abraham then proceeds to bargain with God; asking God to spare the city if there are fifty, or forty-five, or forty… all the way down to two innocent people.

Now, compare this with Noah. God tells Noah the entire world is going to be destroyed by a flood. Does Noah put up a fight? Argue with God? Say, “Whoa God, you can’t just destroy the whole world?” No, Noah blindly follows God’s instructions, accepting his fate. Noah is not in true relationship with God.

In a pre-covenant world, God runs the show and humankind is simply along for the ride without any responsibility or obligation. Being in covenant with God and our world requires that we, like Abraham and Sarah, are a blessing. To be a blessing is to stand up for what is tzedek u’mishpat, just and right.

The covenant of Abraham and Sarah was then renewed by Moses and the Israelites in the desert. We read from Parashat Nitzavim (Deuteronomy 29:9-14) this morning: “You stand this day, all of you, before Adonai your God…to enter into the covenant of Adonai your God… I make this covenant…not with you alone; but…[also] with those who are not with us here this day.”

We are all a part of the covenant. Those who were there that day with Moses and those who weren’t — traditionally understood to mean the future generations, all of us.

We stand this day, all of us, before Adonai our God, to take our place in the covenant. To be a blessing. This covenantal relationship is what drives me to work for justice in this world. This is why I chose the words on my tallit, from Rabbi Tarfon — “Lo aleicha… It is not up to you to complete the work, but neither are you free to desist from it.” We are partners with God in the creation of our world. To uphold our end of the covenant, we are not free to desist from the work. Rabbi Tarfon’s words also remind us that we do not have to do this work alone. No single person is responsible for fulfilling our human part of the covenant; each of us, doing our small part, together, fulfills our end of the deal.

On Tuesday, September 17, I received an email from a partner organization of ours, The New Sanctuary Movement: “We need your help. The nephew of one of our staff members has been detained for the last six months. He was issued a bond and has until Friday, September 20 to raise the money or else he will remain in detention for six more months before given another chance to apply for a bond. This individual identifies as LBGTQIA. As such, this individual is significantly more vulnerable to abuse, violence, and isolation within an environment already rife with human rights violations. NSM has already secured a sponsor in Philadelphia for this individual. His family here is ready to receive him with love and support. All that we need now is your help.”

I wasn’t sure if there was anything we could do, but I figured I could at least forward the message along to the chairs of our LGBTQIA Justice Task Force. Within minutes, I heard back from our lay leaders that wheels were in motion.

Over the next 24 hours, congregants sent emails and made phone calls to friends, other synagogues, and interfaith partners. The former leadership of Beth Ahavah, the LBGTQIA synagogue that merged with Rodeph Shalom, held an emergency meeting to allocate money from their Heritage Fund as part of our efforts. By Wednesday night, we had raised the money.

Our administrative staff then stepped up to expedite the check request. One of our lay-leaders then made a special trip to the synagogue to sign the check. And another RS member came to pick up the check up and deliver it personally. This was truly a congregational effort. It is not up to any single one of us to do the work, together we did not desist from fulfilling our part of the covenant.

Relationships are core to this work. One model for viewing our covenantal relationship is through the lense of marriage. Rabbi Rachel Adler, a professor at Hebrew Union College, writes about the idea of marriage to illustrate her overarching approach to covenant within Judaism.

Adler takes issue with the “traditional,” Orthodox, ketubah; specifically that a woman is acquired by her husband. Besides the obvious misogyny and heteronormativity, this text is problematic for Adler because it fails to express the “reciprocity and mutuality that characterize the bonds between two people who wish to sanctify their devotion to one another as permanent partners.”

Adler therefore turns to the notion of covenant, an ideal which provides a more fitting metaphor for the love that exists between two people. Drawing upon diverse examples of covenantal commitment and care found throughout our tradition, Adler composed a document she entitled a Brit Ahuvim, a Lovers’ Covenant, that could be used by any two people in a commitment ceremony.

For Adler, the “acquisition” approach to marriage is akin to the pre-covenant world; an unbalanced relationship with one partner calling all the shots. By contrast, Adler’s Brit Ahuvim, to quote from its own text, is: “…a holy covenant like the ancient covenants of our people, made in faithfulness and peace to stand forever. It is a covenant of distinction, like the covenant God made with Israel, saying, ‘You shall be My people, and I shall be your God’ (Jer. 30:22). It is a covenant of mutual lovingkindness like the wedding covenant between God and Zion.”

Guided by the principles of Adler’s Brit Ahuvim, our congregation is ready to take a new look at what it means to be in relationship with God and our world. The Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism, our movement’s social justice arm, recently introduced the Brit Olam, our covenant to create a world in which all people experience wholeness, justice, and compassion.

After months of listening to the concerns and stories of members of Reform communities throughout North America, Brit Olam, our covenant with the world, is an effort to support congregations working together, learning from one another, and effecting change on the local, state, and federal levels. Over 220 congregations have already signed on — imagine what we can accomplish together.

Let me give you an example from New York State where they piloted this model. Congregants in New York City were increasingly frustrated with their lack of influence in Albany. Specifically, they were working on passing legislation to more easily provide emergency contraception in hospitals and pharmacies, but kept coming up against roadblocks from legislators in upstate New York. Under the banner of Brit Olam, Reform congregations in Rochester, Buffalo, Syracuse, and across New York State successfully lobbied their elected representatives to support reproductive rights legislation that is in line with our Reform Jewish values.

This is just one of many examples of how congregations are fulfilling their part of the covenant. God called our ancestors to be a blessing, to stand up for what is just and right. To challenge the status quo. This is what is means to be in covenantal relationship with God and our world.

We stand up and fulfill our part of the covenant when we feed and educate neighborhood kids every summer at our Breaking Bread on Broad program, doing our part to alleviate hunger and raise up the next generation.

We stand up and fulfill our part of the covenant when we meet with city representative as part of the national “Do Not Stand Idly By” Campaign to reduce gun violence.

We stand up and fulfill our part of the covenant when we initiate an environmental task force to look at our own congregation’s consumption and use of disposables.

And we will stand up and fulfill our part of the covenant on Tuesday, December 17 when we welcome Rabbi Andrea L.Weiss and Lisa Weinberger, along with a multi-faith panel to speak about their book, American Values, Religious Voices. The book is a collection of letters from a wide range of scholars and religious leaders that were sent to the president, his administration, and congress during their first hundred days in office. In the introduction to the book, Rabbi Weiss writes: “Individually, it is hard to feel that one can have an impact on events unfolding around us. Collectively, we have the potential to speak truthfully and powerfully to those making critical decisions about our nation’s future.” Rabbi Weiss reminds us again, when we stand together, we fulfill our part of the covenant.

Following the panel, we will officially enter into the Brit Olam. In the spirit of Rabbi Adler’s Brit Ahuvim, we will have a ceremonial signing. Together as a congregation, we will sign our ketubah, our Brit Olam, and hang this beautiful document in our building as a constant reminder of our commitments.

As it says in our Torah portion this morning, “Atem nitzavim, all of you stand here today…” We stand together today to enter as a congregation into a new covenantal relationship, a Brit Olam, with other Jewish communities, with our world, and with God. It is incumbent upon us to take the lead in our relationship with this world because if we do not, no one else will. As it says in the midrash (Ecclesiasties Rabbah 7:13): “When God created the first human beings, God led them around the Garden of Eden and said: “Look at My works! See how beautiful they are—how excellent! For your sake, I created them all. See to it that you do not spoil and destroy My world; for if you do, there will be no one else to repair it.”

May we stand up and take our place in the covenant and help repair our world, together. Ken y’hi ratzon, May this be God’s will. Amen.

Delivered by Rabbi Jill Maderer, Kol Nidre 5780

Simon Wiesenthal, the Holocaust survivor and Nazi hunter, would tell this story. Shortly after Wiesenthal is liberated, a man asks if he can borrow $10.  Week after week, the man comes to say he cannot pay it back. Excuse after excuse. Weeks turn into months, and finally the man comes to Wiesenthal to say “Here’s the $10, my visa came through, I am going to Canada.”  Wiesenthal looks at the man and says “Nevermind.  Keep the money.  For $10, it’s not worth changing my opinion of you.”

A grudge can feel so good.  One commentator jokes “revenge is sweeter than honey” (Rabbi Moshe Cham Luzzato).  The entitlement, the righteous indignation– that power can serve, as a source of confidence.

And yet, according to the prophet Jeremiah, God proclaims “I will not look upon you in anger, for I am compassionate; I do not bear a grudge for all time.”  Striving to emulate God, tomorrow afternoon we will read from the Torah in the Holiness Code: Do not bear a grudge.

This Yom Kippur, what would it mean to heed the message of Leviticus– to release a grudge? Would you even want to relinquish that power?

Israeli-American Jewish filmmaker Hanan Harchol, imagines this very conversation with his own father.  In a story called “Landlord,” Hanan tells his father he just got a text from his friend David.  He and David had not spoken in two years.

Hanan says to his dad, “Remember that animation job I applied to when I moved to New York?”

“The one you did not get?  That was years ago! Who cares about that now?”

“After I got the rejection letter, I found out that David got the position.”

“So?” his father asks.

“He didn’t know about the position until I told him about it.  I had asked him to be one of my references.  Somehow his reference letter ended up getting lost in the mail.  And he applied for the job, himself.”

His father gasps at the betrayal: “Unbelievable!  What a shmendrick!”

“Every time I think about it, I get angry.  So, what do you think I should do?”

“Forgive him.”

“Why are you defending what he did?”

“I would never defend what David did.  It was terrible!  But I’m not talking about what he did.  I’m talking about what you can do.”

“Why would I ever want to forgive him… I’ll lose all self-respect.”

“I just hope he’s paying his rent.”

“Paying me?? He stole from me. What are you talking about??”

“He’s living inside your head.  He’s obviously taking up a lot of room. I mean, when did this happen?  Two years ago?  And you’re still talking about him? ”

“Living in my head.  Rent free.  I never thought about it that way.”

“Listen, Hanan, when someone does something that hurts us, it’s natural to get angry.  I got angry when I heard about it too.  But how long you hang on to the anger, that’s your choice.”

“But if I forgive, he gets away with it.  I want revenge.  I want him to suffer.  I want justice”

“But how does that help you?  Does it improve your life?  We have a finite amount of time. You can choose if the person you want to be in this world, is one who resents, or one who forgives.”

“It’s really hard to be forgiving.”

(excerpts from https://www.hananharchol.com/watch-landlord)

I agree with Hanan: It’s really hard to be forgiving.  And as if it weren’t hard enough we often distort the meaning of forgiveness, making it even harder. Hanan Harchol’s story, “Landlord,” chips away at three misconceptions and offers Jewish corrections: first misconception- forgiveness requires justice; second misconception- forgiveness indicates condoning and reconciliation; and third misconception- there’s always tomorrow.

When it comes to a grudge, is the wrongdoer’s suffering really “sweeter than honey?”  It’s an understandable inclination, to yearn for justice.  Yet, our tradition proposes a challenging principle about forgiveness: this is the one time, justice does not matter.

In a surprising teaching, the Talmud imagines that when God sees us repent for our wrongs, it makes God want to repent.  It’s a beautiful notion, but why does God need to apologize? God feels remorse for creating evil—so our problems started with God.  But wait a minute, Torah scholar Dena Weiss argues, then shouldn’t the process be the other way around?  If, in this metaphor, God permitted us to travel the wrong path in the first place, shouldn’t God be the one to step up and apologize first!?  Yes, Weiss teaches, that would be more fair.  But fairness is not the point.  When we enter a “but she did it first” mindset, we become stuck. If we cannot move beyond justice, we cannot move towards letting go.  Jewish wisdom is clear: the expectation of fairness is a misconception—an obstacle that can hold us back.  And forgiveness is already hard enough.

Perhaps not for all of us, but for most, at least somewhere under the surface, lies resentment — the shmendrick living in our head, rent-free. The landlord image, comes from a teaching of Rabbi Abraham Twerski, a psychiatrist who devotes much of his work to 12 Step/ Recovery counseling.  Rabbi Twerski learned the landlord image in an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting and realized it matches perfectly to Judaism’s understanding of resentment.  Because when we’re talking about forgiveness, the issue is not the offender, and the issue is not even the offense.  To forgive is not to condone.  To forgive is not to declare: you were not wounded.  And to forgive is not to reconcile.  

Sometimes reconciliation follows, sometimes not. Sometimes it’s healthier for certain people to no longer be a regular part of our lives.  Sometimes a resolution that allows us to simply send a birthday card, or to be in the same room without strife at a family Bar Mitzvah is a goal.  But pure forgiveness only involves letting go.

The Hebrew root for the word grudge means “to keep guard.”  The English word resentment means to “feel again.”  (And again!)  The energy we devote to guarding our resentment, and to feeling anger again and again, does not repair the injury or hurt the offender.  The very grudge that initially feels powerful, comes to weigh us down, keeping us captive in its bitterness.  Resentment might be directed toward another person, against God for life’s profound disappointments, or even against ourselves, for our own past decisions.  Holding its power over us, the anger becomes our burden to bear.  The burden may show up in the form of frustration, or a physical ailment, or in the form of rage that leaks into other relationships. The Talmud teaches: Whoever bears a grudge acts like one who, having cut one hand, while slicing with a knife, avenges himself, by stabbing the other hand.  When we harbor resentment, we hurt ourselves.

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel calls, forgiveness pekuach neshamah/ saving a spirit.  Whose spirit are we saving? Not the offender’s—we are not redeeming the person with whom we are in conflict — we are saving our own spirit.

I chose to speak tonight, about resentment, because I believe it is a common challenge.  I am not focused on the rare tragic circumstance—the parent who forgives his child’s murderer.  We are more likely to find need for forgiveness efforts in difficult but common fractures— workplace conflict, family abuse, marital infidelity, relationship betrayal.

I have been struck by the tremendous number of family estrangements to which I have exposure in my role as your rabbi.  Family members devote significant effort to keep the ruptures quiet—we do not know that this pain exists in the lives of our friends.  Then, when there is a death and the mourners should be able to devote energy to their grief, instead there is only enough energy available to fortify the walls and prepare: what if so-and-so shows up.

A widow granted me permission to share her story.  An elderly man is in hospice care, and does not want his son to visit.  They had a business-related falling out years ago, and the father does not let it go.  He draws his last breath, still clinging to the anger.

After his death, the widow’s attention focuses on the questions: Will the son attend?  Where will he sit? What will we say?

The day of the funeral arrives and the son shows up.  The widow attempts to maintain the grudge, with the intention of honoring the deceased’s wishes.  And the son does not want to cause trouble, so he sits in the very back row.  I am with the widow who is in the front row, and we are about to begin kriya—the tearing of the ribbon— when the she says “Wait.  Can we invite him to join us?”   After together tearing the ribbon, the widow somehow determines she can help the family tear away its divisions as well.  She asks the son to stay.  He joins her in the front row.  Each able to let go, at least for this moment.  It does not require condoning.  It does not require denying wounds.  It does not require reconciling.  Only letting go, enough to move forward.

Jewish wisdom is clear: the expectation of reconciliation, is a misconception, that can hold us back; in order to pekuach neshamah,/save a spirit, we need to let go.

And we do not have forever.  We have a finite number of days, and we do not know, when our last will come.

Matthew O’Reilly is a paramedic.  As a first responder, O’Reilly encounters people in their last moments of life.  Some, he concedes, experience terror; but many, he insists, express a sense of inner-peace and acceptance.  At the end of our lives, what makes the difference, between terror and inner-peace? O’Reilly says, it’s whether or not we have undone business.  It’s forgiveness—have I forgiven, and have I been forgiven.  Ask hospice workers; they say the same.  Unresolved conflicts bring terror and unrest. To help someone towards peace, facilitate forgiveness.

The depth of Jewish ritual tradition includes a deathbed vidui – a deathbed confession – a final chance to confess our wrongs, and to find peace.  That deathbed confession – death itself— is what we imitate on Yom Kippur.  In the fasting –we imitate death today.  With white–the color of the burial shroud –adorning our Torah scrolls, we imitate death today.  The fragility in the Unetane Tokef prayer, the desperation in the Confession, the emptiness of the ark, moments ago, reminding us of our own coffin, propels us to confront the truth: none of us is guaranteed tomorrow.  As we plead with God to forgive us, the ritual pleads with us, to forgive others. The only thing we know for sure is that we are mortal.  If you have wrongs you need to right, if you have people –-or yourself or God– you need to forgive, do not wait!

Jewish wisdom is clear: the illusion that we live forever, can mask the urgency, and hold us back from pekuach neshamah/ saving our spirit.

Make the most of this sacred season. Permit our tradition to drive your teshuvah, as if everything were at stake, because it is.  Hear the words of our text, take in the depths of our ritual.  With an open heart, see your casket, feel your hunger, speak your confession, offer your forgiveness.  All, as if it were for the last time.  With forgiveness: may we pekuach neshamah/ save a spirit.  Save our own spirit.