The Embodied Torah of Celebrations on the Jewish calendar

Divre Harav – November, 2022

Posted by

0

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

Posted by

0

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 – May/2022

Posted by

0

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!

Divre Harav – April/2022

Posted by

0

I’ve always loved Passover, but I think I’m going to like it even more this year. Coming as it does after a long winter, Passover symbolizes the freedom to enjoy being outside again without gloves, boots, and a warm coat and hat. When I feel the warmth of the sun, breathe the sweet-smelling air, get on my bike again, as the sun’s lengthening path across the sky keeps it visible more than 12 hours a day, I feel my spirit and my breath expanding from the narrowness and darkness of winter.

This year, after two years of pandemic living, we celebrate an additional kind of freedom. During the month and weeks leading up to Pesah, many of us who have been careful to protect the health of ourselves and others by wearing a mask, have increasingly been setting it aside and enjoying the freedom of going to work, getting a sandwich, or shopping with a visible smile on our face.

Please note that I am not at all critical of those who prefer to remain masked in public spaces. I assume that they have a good reason for doing so and I respect that by doing my best to keep my distance from them. I am, however, saddened by those who have chosen to exercise their freedom to forgo vaccination, without a compelling medical reason. They certainly have the God-given autonomy to refuse the vaccination, despite the fact that the rate of serious illness or death from COVID is somewhere between 14% and 50% higher for the unvaccinated compared to the fully vaccinated.

Another kind of Passover freedom – I hope that those who are comfortable coming in person will commit to regular support of in-person services. Whether regular means weekly, twice a month, monthly, or bi-monthly, we need to see your face again. The essence of Passover was the transformation of a collection of families into a nation; the creation of a community. Regularly gathering on Shabbat and holidays is the heart and soul of Jewish community. And I ask those who take advantage of the opportunity to watch the broadcast of our Shabbat service will recognize that it cannot continue without their support.

The Judaism that I celebrate each spring is a physical, tangible part of my life. I can touch it, taste it, and feel its texture in my mouth. At this time of year, it is matza, matza balls, horseradish and romaine lettuce, parsley, green vegetables, and haroset. It is the foods that take me back to Seder meals in St. Lous Park, Minneapolis, St. Paul, Milan, New York, and Grand Rapids, reunites me with my grandfathers and grandmothers, aunts and uncles, parents and in-laws, gathers together my siblings, nieces, nephews, and cousins at the far end of the table incessantly asking, “When do we eat?”

I thank God that I have the freedom to live in the great country of the United States and have the resources to visit the great State of Israel regularly. I marvel that I live in a world so different than that which my parents and grandparents were born in, in which more than 85% of the population has never known a world without an Israel.

What do you celebrate at Passover?

Divre Harav – March/2022

Posted by

0

As I sit down to write something about our community Purim celebration, I find myself struggling a bit. How to approach Purim, a holiday on which we make fun of antisemitism and those who would try to kill Jews, when the memory of just such an attempt at Congregation Beth Israel in Colleyville, TX, is so fresh that many synagogues and Jewish communities around the country are reassessing their security protocols and running active shooter drills?

Jew-haters are not new. Every generation has experienced its share of fear, and some generations have experienced more than their share. Yet, we have persisted in celebrating our holidays, including Purim, and we make jokes about them, summarizing every holiday in three easy steps — “They tried to kill us, we won, let’s eat!” Or the story of two Jews sitting on a park bench in Germany, 1935, reading newspapers. One looks over at the other and sees that he’s reading Der Sturmer, a notoriously antisemitic weekly, and asks, “how can your read that Nazi garbage?” The other responds, “In your newspaper, Jews are being attacked on the streets, our businesses are being looted, and our synagogues are being destroyed. In my newspaper, Jews control the banks, the world media, and are on the verge of dominating international governments. I’d rather read the good news!”

I continue to observe Judaism proudly and publicly because I can’t imagine a world without Jews. Such a world would be infinitely poorer. The teachings of Judaism inspire the world. I cannot imagine a world without Jews, who, inspired by those teachings, go on to better the world in the fields of law, medicine, physics, chemistry, literature, and more. And the practice of Judaism enriches my life in countless ways, giving me a path of Middot to improve my character, a path of Jewish ethics to improve my interactions with others, a religious practice that ties me to the repair of the world around me, a body of Jewish wisdom to keep myself intellectually engaged and psychologically healthy, all of these being piece of a journey within a covenant with God.

This month’s Purim story, the soon to arrive Passover story, both are part of the larger story of Jews in relationship with the world. I am alive in order to bring love to my neighbors. Not necessarily to bring them to Judaism, but to be connected to them in positive ways that benefits our Grand Rapids community. For every person out there who thinks about bringing chaos to the Jewish community, there are a hundred, a thousand, ten thousand who would stand by our side against evil.

Please join me in a celebration of Purim on Wednesday evening, March 16, at 6:30 p.m. that includes a joint Purimshpiel with Temple Emanuel, two options for telling the Purim story (a traditional megillah reading and a Mad Lib megillah), and something delicious to take home with you. We’ll mock the villains and cheer the heroes and imagine a world where Jews are never afraid. We’ll wear costumes and masks to remind ourselves that nothing is as it first appears, that reality is often hidden under layers of superficial garments, that the world as it appears today is not the world as it is meant to be. Set aside your fear and display your pride in living a Jewish life!