Divre Harav – November, 2022

The month of Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, and Sukkot is called Tishrei. The month we celebrate Hanukkah is called Kislev. The month in between is the only month in the Hebrew calendar in which there are no holidays. It is commonly referred to as Heshvan, although that is not the proper name. The real name of the month is Marheshvan, and midrash suggests that the Mar is a prefix added to the proper name because Mar, like the maror on Pesah, means “bitter.” It might be a nice midrash to think that a month without holidays is sad and bitter, but it is a completely wrong understanding of what the name Marheshvan means. The Akkadian name of the month is warah-sh’van. The Akkadian ’v’ or ‘w’ and the Hebrew ‘m’ interchange. Warah is related to the Hebrew word yerah, month; and sh’van is related to the Hebrew word shemini, eighth. So Marheshvan is the eighth month, following Tishrei, the seventh month.

Why does the New Year fall in the seventh month? First, because the Bible says it does. Second, because the Bible considers Passover to be the celebration of the national beginning of Israel, so it considers Nisan, the month of Passover, to be the first month. That makes Rosh Hashanah fall in the seventh month.

Marheshvan can fall any time from late October to early December. And while it is true that there are no Jewish holidays during that time, there is one American civil holiday which is fully consistent with Jewish values, and that is Thanksgiving. Leaving aside the problematic aspects of the history of the holiday, the concept of Thankgiving aligns perfectly with our celebration of Sukkot, also a festival celebrating the blessings of the harvest.

There is of course one other American holiday in this time period. Halloween. My ambivalence about the celebration of Halloween comes because Judaism has an overabundance of holidays. In traditional Jewish life, there are more than 35 major and minor festivals, not including the weekly Sabbath. Purim even includes the opportunity to dress up in costumes and receive gifts of food from our friends (and of course give gifts as well). For adults, Purim is a time when we are encouraged to get a bit tipsy – how great is that for a religious holiday!

I love celebrating holidays, but I have all I can handle with our own holidays, plus a few civic holidays like Thanksgiving and the Fourth of July. I don’t have the energy to add onto the rich tapestry of Jewish holidays.

I do not encourage the celebration of Halloween because I would rather see the time, energy, and money spent on Halloween instead devoted to living Jewish life and celebrating Jewish holidays with more enthusiasm. On the other hand, I do not actively discourage Halloween because there is nothing inherently evil about dressing up and getting treats from our neighbors, and besides, being the grinch trying to fight halloween is a losing battle.

My personal ambivalence about Halloween has had absolutely no effect on my family. My children used to love Halloween. At a certain point, Marisa and I gave up and started counting the years until they would be too old for trick or treating. And in the meantime, we consoled ourselves by stealing their candy.

Hebrew Words of the Month – Memorize the Hebrew months:

  • Tishrei
  • Marheshvan
  • Kislev
  • Tevet
  • Sh’vat
  • Adar
  • Nisan
  • Iyar
  • Sivan
  • Tammuz
  • Av
  • Elul

Divre Harav – October, 2022

What is a home? Is it the four walls that we live in? Is it the furnishings, the chairs we sit on, the dishes we serve on, the people we live with?

In the rides I’ve taken with the Grand Rapids Police Department as a COP (Clergy on Patrol), I’ve learned that when officers interview people from poor areas of the city, the question “where do you live?” does not always elicit a useful response. Often, people who encounter police officers don’t have a home, they don’t “live” anywhere. So in order to get an address, the officers instead ask, “Where do you stay?” The four walls are always changing, the furnishings and the bed or couch rotate, and the people who provide the hospitality are not always the same. So it doesn’t feel like a home in which they live, but rather a place they stay until they need to find another place to stay.

The holiday of Sukkot cultivates that kind of rootlessness. It’s a temporary place that provides uncertain shelter. On a glorious sunny day or a crisp cloudless night, it’s a wonderful place to sit down for a meal. In the bitter cold of a windy, snowy day, or when cold rain drops through the porous covering, it’s not quite so comfortable. But once a year, for seven days, it’s a mitzvah to uproot oneself from one’s home and stay, for meals at least, in the sukkah.

It’s a gratitude practice. It’s a reminder not to take one’s home or one’s comfort or security for granted. It’s a reminder of the fragility of our lives and how much we depend on God and other people for support. Don’t let Sukkot pass you by without making time to visit the synagogue Sukkah (or build one of your own). We’ll have Kiddush in the Sukkah on the Monday and Tuesday Yom Tov days of Sukkot and on Shabbat. During Sukkot, I’ll be eating my lunch out in the Sukkah, either at home or at the synagogue. I’d welcome company. And see elsewhere in the Voice for details about the joint Sukkot dinner with Temple Emanuel, the “Chili” Sukkot, on Wednesday evening, October 12.

I wish you a joyous Festival of Sukkot, Shemini Atzeret, and Simhat Torah, and I hope to see you returning to the synagogue to celebrate with us.

Hebrew Words of the Month:

  • • s’khakh – the covering of a Sukkah, comprised solely of materials grown from the land.

Divre Harav – September, 2022

Having a Jewish consciousness means that when the summer days get noticeably shorter, you begin thinking about Rosh Hashanah. And when you begin thinking about Rosh Hashanah, you start thinking about buying a lulav and etrog or building a Sukkah or at least eating a meal in a Sukkah. Being mindfully Jewish means that the rhythm of your year is connected with the natural world. Changes in temperature associated with transitions from summer to fall, fall to winter, to spring, and back to summer will remind you of Hanukkah as the winter begins, Tu Bishvat as you pass the midpoint of winter, Purim at the very end of winter, Pesah as spring begins to push its way onto the scene, Shavuot as summer breaks through, Tisha b’Av at the peak of summer, and then we begin anew.

Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik described this kind of conscious exhibited by “The Halakhic Man” in the book of that name. The person who embodies Jewish consciousness views the world through the lens of Torah, Jewish commentaries and teachings, and Jewish practice. If there is a tree hanging over a deck, you might consider that the branches of the tree would make fine cover (“Skhakh”) for a Sukkah, but you can’t put the Sukkah on the deck because you can’t build a Sukkah under a tree. You might look at a banana and see a fruit from a plant (… “borei p’ri ha’adama”), and look at an apple and see a fruit from a tree (“borei p’ri ha’etz”).

I had a moment of this kind of Jewish consciousness when I heard the late comedian Buddy Hackett’s duck story. Have you heard his duck story? If not, you can watch it here (beginning at 2:55): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aww4HT5g7ig (if you’re reading the print version of this column, you can either google “Buddy Hackett Duck story” or go AhavasIsraelGR.org, find my column online, and click the link). When I heard the story, I immediately put it into the context of a teaching from the Mishnah of Baba Metzia (1:4) regarding claiming found property. A person who sees a bird that cannot fly or a lame deer on his property can claim, “My field has acquired it for me” and take possession over someone who had been tracking the deer or chasing the bird. A much better solution than the farmer’s in Buddy’s story, right? The principles in the first couple of chapters of this tractate help to adjudicated disputes over who has taken possession of various kinds of property in different situations. Essentially, the goal of this order of Mishnah (“damages,” covering many topics of civil and criminal law) is to serve as a guide to creating a harmonious society.

Our holidays and our sacred texts can give us that same kind of elevated consciousness, nudging us towards living in harmony with the world and the people around us. Rosh Hashanah begins with the fundamental premise that our first step is to do the internal work to align our behavior in order to resolve conflict with others. May you use the sacred time of Elul, the month in advance of Rosh Hashanah, to reach out and restore relationships, and may you enter the new year of 5783 with peace and harmony.

Hebrew Words of the Month:

  • Mishnah – A second century collection of material describing Jewish life in a post-Temple world.
  • Talmud – The Mishnah plus a commentary on mishnah called Gemara, the major source of halakha, the system of Jewish law that created post-Biblical Judaism.
    • Seder – “order” or section. The Mishnah has six primary sections.
    • Masekhet – Each Seder is divided into many Tractates on a broad topic.
    • Perek – Each Tractate is divided into chapters, and each chapter, into mishnayot.

Divre Harav – Summer/2022

Some years ago, I participated in a program with the Institute for Jewish Spirituality which included silent retreats and mindful eating. I enjoyed the experience of sitting with others for a leisurely meal, concentrating only on the food in front of me. I was completely focused on taking a bite of food, enjoying the texture and flavor, chewing and swallowing and taking a breath before choosing the next spoon- or forkful. When I engage in mindful eating, I eat less and enjoy the food more. It is a physically and emotionally healthier experience than my normal experience of eating. Most often, I grab food while checking email or reading the news, squeezing meal time in between other activities or appointments or errands. If I am alone, I might watch a program to distract myself. If I am with others, I might be involved in conversation and not paying attention to the food I am putting in my mouth.

The goal of the retreat experience was not to convince us that we should take meals alone or in silence in order to eat mindfully. Eating should be an experience that brings people together. Rather, the goal was to teach us the skills and habits of mindful eating and learn how to use those skills even when we are eating in communal settings. With practice, I can remind myself to slow down and enjoy both the food and the people around me mindfully.

I’ve been thinking about food because, as you’ll see elsewhere in the Voice, I am focusing a bit of attention this summer on creating opportunities for us to eat, socialize, and learn together, as well as to cook and do mitzvot together. The pandemic years have been difficult in this respect. We’ve gotten out of the habit of sharing food together. Pre-pandemic, our daily minyanim would have breakfast together each week after the service. It was a time to strengthen and deepen relationships. It was how we welcomed new people to the community, over a copy of coffee and a little food.

This summer, I would like to restore opportunities to socialize with each other. We have reestablished a weekly Thursday morning, 7:15 a.m., minyan with breakfast following. I’d like to see us gather for lunch after Shabbat services once a month, have dinner and study Torah together once a month, and cook together to freeze dinners for later delivery to people such as those who have a new baby in the house, who have been ill, or who are new to town. Please consider supporting our Thursday morning minyan and joining me for lunch or dinner this summer.

In addition, please consider joining me in the kitchen to prepare food for one of these events or for delivery. Cooking can also be an enjoyable way to spend time together. Meal planning, shopping, and preparation is another opportunity to engage in a mindful, deliberate activity of choosing healthy food. Let’s embrace the opportunity to do mitzvot together, to nourish the community and ourselves with food and Torah and prayer and Shabbat. I’m looking forward to spending time with you!

Divre Harav – May/2022

We celebrate Yom Ha’atzma’ut, Israel Independence Day, on May 5. 25 years ago, I could have written the previous sentence without a second thought. But although the vast majority of Jews care about Israel (82%, according to the Pew Research Center), and most of the rest would identify their ambivalence as non-Zionist, the number of Jews who identify as anti-Zionists has grown. So it is no longer a given that the subject of the first person plural pronoun at the beginning of my first sentence is “the Jewish community.” This saddens me.

It saddens me even more that a Chicago-based synagogue, founded seven years ago as a non-Zionist institution, has recently redefined itself as affirmatively anti-Zionist. I’m not in favor of creating a synagogue in which opposition to a long-standing Jewish belief is a founding principle. A synagogue based on eating pork, intact foreskins, feasting on Yom Kippur, or hating the principle of Zionism seems perverse and anti-Jewish. At the same time, creating a litmus test in which pork eaters, Kol Nidre feasters, intacters, and anti-Zionists are specifically called out for exclusion also seems anti-Jewish to me. Jews don’t have a history of carrying out threats of wholesale, widespread, excommunication, do we?

I suppose I’ll continue using the unqualified first person plural “we celebrate Yom Ha’atzma’ut” in the same ways that I say “Jews observe Shabbat,” knowing that what I really mean is that most Jews are aware of the existence of Shabbat, recognize it in their own way, and appreciate its power and beauty when they do. Most people alive today, including Jews, are aware of the existence of Israel, recognize that it sits in the geographical location that gave birth to two of the world’s major religions, and appreciate its power and beauty and history and connection to three major religions. 

So I encourage you to celebrate a world in which Israel exists as the place where our sacred language of Hebrew lives a vibrant life; where the Jewish calendar forms the natural rhythm of the week; where Jewish texts, values and ethics inform the legislative and judicial system; where Jewish history actually began; and as the place where any Jew, anywhere, for any reason, can claim refuge from a world that is not always friendly to Jews.

And I encourage you to be proud of a world in which Israel exists as a light until the nations, as a country nearly always among the first to send support and expertise in the wake of a natural disaster; as a country which take in refugees of any religion; as a bastion of religious freedom; and as an innovative “start-up nation.” 

Celebrate Israel’s 74th birthday on Wednesday evening, May 4 or Thursday, May 5 with Israel food, watching an Israeli movie or series on your favorite streaming service, listening to Israeli music (My favorite place to go is MyIsraeliMusic.com, The Israel Hour, with Josh Shron), and say a prayer of gratitude for the existence of Israel.

Hag Sameah!

We celebrate Yom Ha’atzma’ut, Israel Independence Day, on May 5. 25 years ago, I could have written the previous sentence without a second thought. But although the vast majority of Jews care about Israel (82%, according to the Pew Research Center), and most of the rest would identify their ambivalence as non-Zionist, the number of Jews who identify as anti-Zionists has grown. So it is no longer a given that the subject of the first person plural pronoun at the beginning of my first sentence is “the Jewish community.” This saddens me.

It saddens me even more that a Chicago-based synagogue, founded seven years ago as a non-Zionist institution, has recently redefined itself as affirmatively anti-Zionist. I’m not in favor of creating a synagogue in which opposition to a long-standing Jewish belief is a founding principle. A synagogue based on eating pork, intact foreskins, feasting on Yom Kippur, or hating the principle of Zionism seems perverse and anti-Jewish. At the same time, creating a litmus test in which pork eaters, Kol Nidre feasters, intacters, and anti-Zionists are specifically called out for exclusion also seems anti-Jewish to me. Jews don’t have a history of carrying out threats of wholesale, widespread, excommunication, do we?

I suppose I’ll continue using the unqualified first person plural “we celebrate Yom Ha’atzma’ut” in the same ways that I say “Jews observe Shabbat,” knowing that what I really mean is that most Jews are aware of the existence of Shabbat, recognize it in their own way, and appreciate its power and beauty when they do. Most people alive today, including Jews, are aware of the existence of Israel, recognize that it sits in the geographical location that gave birth to two of the world’s major religions, and appreciate its power and beauty and history and connection to three major religions. 

So I encourage you to celebrate a world in which Israel exists as the place where our sacred language of Hebrew lives a vibrant life; where the Jewish calendar forms the natural rhythm of the week; where Jewish texts, values and ethics inform the legislative and judicial system; where Jewish history actually began; and as the place where any Jew, anywhere, for any reason, can claim refuge from a world that is not always friendly to Jews.

And I encourage you to be proud of a world in which Israel exists as a light until the nations, as a country nearly always among the first to send support and expertise in the wake of a natural disaster; as a country which take in refugees of any religion; as a bastion of religious freedom; and as an innovative “start-up nation.” 

Celebrate Israel’s 74th birthday on Wednesday evening, May 4 or Thursday, May 5 with Israel food, watching an Israeli movie or series on your favorite streaming service, listening to Israeli music (My favorite place to go is MyIsraeliMusic.com, The Israel Hour, with Josh Shron), and say a prayer of gratitude for the existence of Israel.

Hag Sameah!