Some observations from the home of my heart... Israel

Here I am in the homeland of my people, generations of all of mankind, history and religious beginnings of so many groups, and an amazing place in so many ways. One observation this time around (I am here once or twice a year) is that I feel I am on vacation from the “boxing ring politics” that have been taking over way too much space and energy in the United States. I do think my stress level is lower as a result (that and after my husband Ken returned the car we were using to get around – having a car is an entirely different stress level factor for me here). We have been in Tel Aviv, Haifa, and Or Yehuda to hang out at some wonderful museums and walk on the beach. Then there was our amazing time in Ginot Shomron and Ma’ale Adumin with various cousins. Now we are presently in Jerusalem and I see people of all religions and groupings walking around peacefully going about their business. I noticed religious Jewish men and hijab cloaked Muslim women sitting next to each other on the light rail transportation system, shoppers in the various Shukim (markets) in close proximity to each other, polite, smiling, going about their business, and interacting with civility, manners and respect. No boxing ring politics, no hatred, no conflicts. Yet, this is not what the headlines report; this is not the focus of newspaper articles… unfortunately. But in this home of my heart this is the reality so much of the time, it clearly warrants reporting and acknowledging.

I have been asked and do feel that it is the American setting that has become more fractured, less conversant and increasingly dangerous. My amazing cousin shared a beautiful article that she wrote about embracing differences in Israel and being “color aware” and not “color blind” that appeared in her synagogue newsletter. We have been in neighborhoods where people across religious lines, cultural and ethnic lines, etc. live together, shop together and work together. But again, this is not what is reported too often.

We were in the Old City in all four quarters (Jewish, Christian, Armenian and Muslim) on Christmas Eve, also the third candle of Hannukah. People of different faiths and garbs wishing each other Chag Sameach (Happy Holiday) whichever yours is. Walking around you heard Hannukah songs and saw the lights of public Hannukiot everywhere and then just down the street there were Christmas carols and decorations. And remember, this is the Jerusalem – the City of Peace – that we hear anything but that too often. Too many of us do wonder and shake our heads … we do not hate, we do not marginalize, we do not fear. We worry, we want equality, we try to figure out how to maintain the integrity of this wonderful place as a democracy and as a Jewish State. Those are legitimate issues with formidable challenges. Yet, in the meantime, we walk in the same markets, eat in the same restaurants, visit the same museums, rest on the same beaches, and so on.

True, there was a horribly sad incident here while we have been here … a tragic bus accident due, it is suspected, to a distracted bus driver in which four people were killed, one of whom we know. I do often say that if you want to be safe in Israel, watch who is driving the vehicle you are in and those around you (which is why having a car here makes me so nervous). It is often reported that many more people die here in traffic accidents than any other type of causative incident year after year, so here is the challenge for all to consider.

We ended the evening of December 24/Kislev 26 by going to a fabulous light and music extravaganza in the Tower of David showing the history of Jerusalem and all of its faith groupings, with the ending wishing all Peace. That is the reality here, even if it is not what you hear. That is why I keep coming back again and again and feel a sense of relief and calm each time I return to this home of my heart. May we all pray for a year of peace for all and may Jerusalem and Israel continue to show us the way in so many different manners. There are challenges to be sure, but look at the multitude of successes – the friendships – the desire for peace – the myriad of ventures of cooperation and so much else – this is the Israel of my heart.

Parshat Toldot: Embracing All of our Children and their Differences

Parents are different. Children are different. Families are different. We may not all like the same things. We may not all have the same professions, the same personalities, the same characteristics, the same aspirations in life, the same … and so the list goes on. Nonetheless, we are families. As such we are a collection of individuals who somehow form a collective unit, not necessarily always cohesive and not always easy. But we are family. This family unit began when G-d indicated in the very first chapters of Bereshit that an individual is not to be alone and that HaShem understood that each human being needed a partner. Thus G-d ordained that two are better than one, and as we learn much later in Kohelet, chapter Four: ט טוֹבִים הַשְּׁנַיִם, מִן-הָאֶחָד: אֲשֶׁר יֵשׁ לָהֶם שָׂכָר טוֹב, בַּעֲמָלָם. י כִּי אִם-יִפֹּלוּ, הָאֶחָד יָקִים אֶת-חֲבֵרוֹ; וְאִילוֹ, הָאֶחָד שֶׁיִּפּוֹל, וְאֵין שֵׁנִי, לַהֲקִימוֹ. יא גַּם אִם-יִשְׁכְּבוּ שְׁנַיִם, וְחַם לָהֶם; וּלְאֶחָד, אֵיךְ יֵחָם. יב וְאִם-יִתְקְפוֹ, הָאֶחָד--הַשְּׁנַיִם, יַעַמְדוּ נֶגְדּוֹ; וְהַחוּט, הַמְשֻׁלָּשׁ, לֹא בִמְהֵרָה, יִנָּתֵק.

9 Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labor. 10 For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow; but woe to him that is alone when he falls, and hath not another to lift him up. 11 Again, if two lie together, then they have warmth; but how can one be warm alone? 12 And if a man prevail against him that is alone, two shall withstand him; and a threefold cord is not quickly broken.

So here is the magic of families, of couples, and of partnerships -- it was never meant for a human being to travel through this world of challenges, setbacks, wonderful experiences, and joys alone, but to share them with others. Who better to share them with than our families? But, to do so, we have to truly see each other in a genuine, and dare I say, authentic way.

In this week’s Parsha, we share the narrative of a family who could not find its way to live as a cohesive unit. From the beginning, Rivkah is told that there will be discord between her children. Then as they grow up we see that this discord is mirrored in parental favoritism and family conflict.

We read in Chapter 25 of Bereshit: וַיֶּאֱהַב יִצְחָק אֶת-עֵשָׂו, כִּי-צַיִד בְּפִיו; וְרִבְקָה, אֹהֶבֶת אֶת-יַעֲקֹב.

28 Now Isaac loved Esau, because he did eat of his venison; and Rebekah loved Jacob.

There will be this dichotomy of Rivkah-Yaakov and Yitzchak- Esau, opposing teams in this family unit through their adventures. Nechama Leibowitz has us look very carefully at the pronouns that clearly define the teams here. For example, in chapter 27, we note the following:

ה וְרִבְקָה שֹׁמַעַת--בְּדַבֵּר יִצְחָק, אֶל-עֵשָׂו בְּנוֹ; וַיֵּלֶךְ עֵשָׂו הַשָּׂדֶה, לָצוּד צַיִד לְהָבִיא. ו וְרִבְקָה, אָמְרָה, אֶל-יַעֲקֹב בְּנָהּ, לֵאמֹר: הִנֵּה שָׁמַעְתִּי אֶת-אָבִיךָ, מְדַבֵּר אֶל-עֵשָׂו אָחִיךָ לֵאמֹר.

5 And Rebekah heard when Isaac spoke to Esaw his son. And Esau went to the field to hunt for benison, and to bring it. 6 And Rebekah spoke unto Jacob her son, saying, “Behold, I heard your father speak unto Esau your brother, saying:

You know how when our children or siblings or parents are in our good graces, we say “my mom, my sister, etc.” BUT when we are not so happy we identify them (loudly, often!) as YOUR child, YOUR father, etc. This is what Nechama says is going on here. She also warns us that we should never identify these differences as inherently good or bad and hold onto those ideas, for this will only create fractured units in which the group that is supposed to bolster and validate each other will destroy instead. In this scenario, one stops seeing their own child as their child and this is clearly not a desired outcome.

We all must remember that our children, our parents, our siblings, and all those we love will not be the same as each other. Rather, we are to see each as dear… just as Yitzchak loved the fact that he and Esau shared a love of meat, according to some of our interpretive lenses. Further, we are to acknowledge that if we can see past differences that might seem to be challenging for us, we may derive great benefits. Note that Yaakov cooked the stew, which is to say that he had skill sets that were valuable to his father as well. Beyond the perceived trickery and what may seem to be actions we do not totally understand, the notion that we may not always know the entire story must inform how we act towards each other.

Remember that in the very beginning of our Parsha, G-d speaks to Rivkah and explains that her children will be different:

וַיִּתְרֹצְצוּ הַבָּנִים, בְּקִרְבָּהּ, וַתֹּאמֶר אִם-כֵּן, לָמָּה זֶּה אָנֹכִי; וַתֵּלֶךְ, לִדְרֹשׁ אֶת-יְהוָה. כג וַיֹּאמֶר יְהוָה לָהּ, שְׁנֵי גֹיִים בְּבִטְנֵךְ, וּשְׁנֵי לְאֻמִּים, מִמֵּעַיִךְ יִפָּרֵדוּ; וּלְאֹם מִלְאֹם יֶאֱמָץ, וְרַב יַעֲבֹד צָעִיר.

22 And the children struggled together within her; and she said: 'If it be so, wherefore do I live?' And she went to inquire of the LORD. 23 And the LORD said unto her: Two nations are in thy womb, and two peoples shall be separated from thy bowels; and the one people shall be stronger than the other people; and the elder shall serve the younger.

This is information she has, not Yitzchak. When she is conspiring with Yaakov later, she is acting on this information, no doubt. In other words, her intentions may be honorable, but not understood by all in her family unit. Here we learn that we do not always have the complete picture. This, I believe, is part of G-d’s design. As we learn in so many instances in our texts, only G-d knows all, we as mere mortals do not and cannot by definition.

So back to our families. Do we always understand why we each are the way we are? Is it always easy to embrace differences and ways of life we may not even have chosen for ourselves and our children? Is that the point? Or … is the point that we are to learn from each other, to hold on tight to that multi-threaded cord that ties us together as families and to thank G-d for the totality of blessings that make us each the individuals and the amazing collectives we are? Let us love our children, our siblings, our parents, and all those in our world for the individual human beings G-d made each of us to be in G-d’s ultimate wisdom.

Shabbat Shalom!

Why I Love The Jewish Concept of Leadership

Why I Love The Jewish Concept of Leadership

I have spoken about this before, but in my daily Gemara learning, I found this pearl of wisdom in Masechet Chulin 4b:

The ruler who listens to and responds to false words and ideas (or others or his or her own); his supporters and followers will be evil; the ruler who listens to truth, his supporters and followers will be righteous.

It’s all about role models! And here we find ourselves in a time of history where our technological and scientific know how is so advanced and our human actions are being continually diminished and compromised in increasingly horrifying ways. So, we look to our leaders….

When those leaders teach that they can circumvent the consequences of the law they are elected and vow to uphold, what do we expect from those who serve and support them? When our leaders speak using offensive language, maligning entire groups of people, and showing blatant disrespect and disregard for the humanity of others, what do we expect from those who agree with them? Worse, what are our children witnessing as “acceptable behavior” and even admirable behavior in getting ahead in this world? What does this dangerous “new norm” look like? Not that it is in fact new, it’s just that those leaders we have looked to in the past for some integrity and some standards of correctitude have joined those we spoke against in circumventing the very parameters of the law and standards of conduct which make these countries, including the United States of America and Israel so special. I am particularly saddened by one leader, for whom I once had great respect and who has done so much in the past for humanity and for a special country based on the foundational teachings of its law – and the more recent actions of that particular leader.

This embracing of power for power’s sake is having an impact that is changing the tone of our own country to be sure, and is contributing to the malaise and complete dejection of an entire generation of young adults who themselves are being validated for not listening or seeing those around them and allowing self-absorption to take over and blind self-awareness. In so doing they are acting no less “appropriate” than what they see on any news feed available 24/7 regarding real time behavior of present leadership in too many instances.

In Jewish law there are many correctives to avoid this from happening. Teachers are responsible for what they misteach to their students and actions that result from such; leaders are to exemplify the behavior they are instructed to display given God’s instructions; and the King is actually instructed in Devarim/Deuteronomy (chapter 17) to write a Torah and keep it by his side. That law is to be read constantly in looped formation annually to the entire assemblage and the leader is as responsible to its dictates as the rank and file of the population. Why?

Because, as we learn in Masechet Chulin, evil and misguided leaders will be followed by and responsible for creating the same amongst their followers. Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks teaches that a leader is as great as those who follow that leader and do what that leader exemplifies in their actions. It works both ways, thus good leaders will inspire good people and vice versa. Sadly, it is this second option so operative in our times.

I continue to be baffled and try not to get too dejected by the irresponsible behavior in broad daylight by those who are looked to as examples. It used to be that we worried about the entertainment or sports figures that our children wanted to emulate who showed poor judgement and lack of respect for others at least and absolute abuse and disregard at worst. Now, we see this in our heads of state, our lawyers, our clergy, and others – just too many of those in front of whom a microphone is placed or who have an audience. They outshout, they use inappropriate language, they are smug, they completely disregard law, moral standards, and simply display the worst degree of narcissistic behavior – in short, behaving evil and modelling it for all to see. No wonder too many of our young adults are in such crisis.

For those of us who agree in communal accountability, in acting according to the notion that God created all of us, and that there is a shared responsibility for our planet, for each other, for those less fortunate in our society and that we are all here only because of those who have tried to preserve, to honor and to respect, let us commit to understand that OUR ACTIONS MATTER. OUR WORDS MATTER. And further, we need to show by example, that we are holding those who act otherwise, accountable and that these actions in broad daylight or otherwise simply ARE NOT ACCEPTABLE by any standards.

Lech Lecha: The Sum Total of All We are and Our Authentic Selves

Note: The following is a Dvar Torah I just shared at my shul. It is about ALL that it means to live our authentic selves (political and cultural tones of the term aside).

We know that there are pivotal events in our lives that become the prism through which we see and discern all that happened, happens and will happen to us. Often it may be a tragedy either in our lifetimes or well-hidden in past generations of our family tree. It could be some significant change or revelation we come to about ourselves and our place in this world. It could be a traumatic set of circumstances. It might be a supremely joyful event. How do we not forget such formative experiences in thinking about who we are when we consider the ramifications of these life-changing and defining occurrences and their impact on our authentic selves? All of this is part of our own journeys.

Our Parsha begins as G-d instructs Avram to leave all that he knows from the past – his land, his birthplace, and his father’s house—that is to completely cut himself off from all that has occurred in his life up to this point. But is this really even possible? We know that Avram took the people of his household and a good amount of property with him. What else did he have with him as determined by his experiences and legacy as he set off in a completely different direction then past generations of his family tree may have portended, following the instructions of God to do so?

R. Ya'akov Yosef of Polonnoye (1710–1784) one of the earliest followers of Hassidut teaches as follows:

"And the Lord said to Avram, Go, you, out of your country, and from your kindred, and from your father's home, to the land that I will show you; and I will make of you a great nation, etc." And the uncertainties will be clarified later. For the Rambam writes in the sixth chapter of Hilkhot De'ot (halakha 1) as follows: "It is natural to be influenced, in sentiments and conduct, by one's associates and fellow citizens. Hence, a person ought to associate with the righteous and shun the wicked. If the inhabitants of one's country are evil, he should leave for a place where the people are righteous… [or] he should live by himself in seclusion. And if they do not allow him, etc., he should go to the wilderness... Now you will understand, "Go you out of your country" – from your country to live among your kindred. And when you see that they do not allow you to conduct yourself in a righteous manner, distance yourself further also from your kindred and seclude yourself in your father's home. And if you are unable to serve God while with them, distance yourself even further from your father's home to a land that I will show you. (Toledot Ya'akov Yosef[6], Lekh Lekha 1)

Let’s consider what is being stated here. When we were all young we were taught the conventional narrative that Terach was an idol worshipper and represented everything we are not, while pure and good Avraham learned everything including his faith in God from mid-air, with no credit going to any past events in his life. Here in the beginning of Perek Yud Bet of Bereshit, he is told to leave everything behind, to seclude and distance himself from all that is not right, that characterized his past, in incrementally increasing degrees of separation. If there was nothing to leave of value, this would not be hard. But was this really the case? Is such a complete reboot from nothing even possible for us as humans, with our memories and interactions with all elements of our lives? How do we hold onto what was positive and constructive as well as formative, if we discard all that we were and did, never to look back or consider its impact on our lives?

Our Midrash, often helping us to fill in missing pieces of our narrative teaches that when Avram was born to Terach when the latter was 70 years of age, the astrologers came to Nimrod and proclaimed that this child was dangerous to the future of his fiefdom, as we learn in Baba Batra 91a. Nimrod then proceeded to go to Terach and try to get him to sell the child to him for large amounts of gold and silver, indicating he can always have future children. Terach however, not only did not agree to this horrific notion, but he took his son and his wife and hid them in a cave for three to thirteen years (depending on various versions of this story), bringing them food and all they needed for sustenance. Terach showed he needed to protect this child and also something about what was more valuable – the life of that child and not the promise of great riches. In this particular midrash, Avram comes to the realization that God, The One Who Created All, had to be something far different and far above and beyond the many different forces that were embraced by those who followed the conventional idolatrous belief systems of the time. He felt that something was different, that he himself was different from those around him and from the culture that was part of his story. It could be this seclusion in this cave that allowed him the needed space and opportunity to come to this realization about himself and how he was so different from those around him.

Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks teaches that we must also look to the cultural backdrop of all of our experiences and consider our place within them. He cites the work of

… three great American-Jewish sociologists, David Reisman, Nathan Glazer and Reuel Denney in their 1950 classic, The Lonely Crowd. Their argument was that particular kinds of historical circumstance give rise to particular kinds of people. It makes a difference, they said, whether you lived in a society with a high birth- and death-rate – where families had many children but life expectancy was short – or one on the brink of growth, or one in the early stages of decline. Each gave rise to its own type of character: not that everyone was the same but that you could discern certain traits in the population and culture as a whole….

Abraham was commanded to leave behind the sources of both tradition-directedness (“your father’s house”) and other-directness (“your land, your birthplace”). He was about to become the father of an inner-directed people.

His entire life was governed by an inner voice, the voice of God. He did not behave the way he did because that is how people had always acted, nor did he conform to the customs of his age.

He was different, he took chances and he went outside of the conventions of his time. We are taught by Rashi and many classical commentators that this was for his own good – that the very words Lech Lecha mean to go for your own sake. Avram was doing something to improve his situation but had to take a huge chance in doing so, one that would potentially alienate, separate and isolate him from all that happened before in his life. This complete recalibration of self from tradition-directedness and other-directedness that tied him to his past to inner-directedness meant taking on a new identity and in so doing so, Avram’s authentic self now becomes something quite different than that identity by which he was known until that point, as a resident of a community, as his parents’ son, and so on.

Rambam, in his opening to Hilchot Avodah Zarah, the fourth section in his Sefer HaMadah , teaches that Avram’s purpose and station in life is defined indeed by the many generations that proceeded him. Rambam recounts the history of humanity from HaAdam, the first human being created by G-d, as he acknowledges that it is important to understand how we reach certain thresholds in our collective history that will ultimately impact upon individual initiative and destiny. He goes on to explain how generations of humans made huge mistakes in realizing how wondrous the sun, moon and stars as well as other phenomena were and ultimately forgot that these entities were created; but rather thought that they themselves had some inherent power and therefore were worthy of worship. They did not understand that God wished to set up the universe in such a fashion so that every created element had its part to play and that the totality of all was G-d’s goal in creating the parts. They were outer-directed in considering that what they saw ruled them in some fashion and tradition-directed in following previous generations in believing this to be so. This, explains, Rambam, was the source of Avodah Zarah, the absence of a sense of the magnitude of The Divine, G-d, and instead reduction of awe that should be reserved for The Creator of All to worship of what could be seen in daily lives – the constellations, facets of nature, and so on. It was in this environment that Avram was raised and it was this perspective he had come to believe he could no longer accept or live within its confines.

In the Midrash, we are taught that from an early age, Avram did not believe in these visible “powers” of nature and felt there was something else – another force that was responsible for all that is – G-d. As such, he was the first monotheist. One can only imagine what it must have been like for him to try to forge his way, different from all those around him, denying the lies he had heard told and had to be confronted with up to this point, and the loneliness he must have felt in doing so. Anyone who has gone through such a significant coming to terms with self must feel empathy for him as a human being in this situation – the potential for isolation and disorientation it conveys. Everyone else was acting as though what they had been told was true was just that, and yet he could no longer continue living what for him was untruth. He was compelled to search for and take on his authentic identity and existence.

Nehama Leibowitz uses the phrase “he was wandering in his mind” during this time, amplifying Rambam’s point that he had been “wandering in his heart” and trying to process all that he had heard and learned along with his questions until he found a truth he could accept. He had already arrived at a point where he was ready for God to instruct him to go forth and craft a new reality for himself – this was the result of everything he had been through and it certainly did not come from mid-air.

What made Avram what he was and what he would become? Here is Jonathan Sacks’ inner-directedness. Avram had discerned that the generations of looking outward to how things appeared just did not work for him. In making this discovery, he had to reformulate his reality and consider what it meant to live his authentic life. Looking inward, he was able to consider how he would then move to a different type of outer-directedness, namely one focused on God, in whom he believed and had faith. As he did so, he would begin a new tradition-directedness for future generations of monotheists. As such, his place in general history, as well as Jewish history is singular, pivotal and irreplaceable. He teaches all of us to look inside and reclaim our authentic selves. In so doing, we pull what is positive and constructive from our past, just as he benefited from Terach hiding him in a cave in which he could consider how different he was. Upon coming out, he was more readied and prepared to take his place in history as a guide to us all in showing us how to live authentically, question the past, and honestly consider what our place in the world should be.

Shabbat Shalom!

Thinking about our Communities in the Jewish Year of 5780

We are social beings. G-d created us that way. We are not part of the animal kingdom where babies are born and then in minutes or a bit more, walk, fly or swim away. We are born physically dependent to enable the development of social skills, interactive techniques and empathy for each other. Biology tells us this and our religious systems amplify the point in many of the teachings and narratives we all hold dear. As we grow and mature, we hopefully come to appreciate the people in our lives and the connections we make. Additionally, we are to love and care about each other and to acknowledge that ultimately, as we are taught in Kohelet/Ecclesiastes 4:12 (and will read on the Chag/holiday of Sukkot), And if one prevails against one that is alone, two shall withstand that person; and a threefold cord is not quickly broken. In other words, together we can accomplish so much more than we can apart.

Unfortunately, as we look around us and there is too much divisiveness, too much yelling, not enough acceptance and not enough caring about each other, deeply caring as The One Who Created Us intended. And yet, what amazing things happen when we get this and practice this sense of community, creating those threefold cords that cannot be broken. I just experienced yet another such community during Shabbat Elul and Rosh HaShana at the beautiful Isabella Friedman Retreat Center. Our community of about two hundred souls included all ages, a wide spectrum of observance levels, and just as wide a spectrum of gender and sexuality identities. Particularly evident were two entities – An Orthodox community and an LGBTQ+ community. We all made community together and created a strong cord that simply could not be torn asunder in any way. We prayed together in different minyanim, sang together, ate together, learned together and just lived in this wonderful environmentally beautiful and charged space for five days as a collective that was absolutely breathtaking in so many ways.

I was honored and awed to be able to teach throughout the five days, including sharing a D’var Torah (words of Jewish learning) related to the weekly Parsha/Torah reading on Shabbat, which is among other things, interestingly enough about COMMUNITY. In Parshat Netzavim, ALL OF THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL – men, women, children, all ages, the leaders of various categories, the water carriers and wood choppers and EVERYONE was to be standing at attention to hear the lessons to be imparted. I contrasted this to another community model as found in the Talmud in Masechet Hagiga where we are taught ALL ARE OBLIGATED TO COME TO PARTICIPATE IN THE HAGIGA OFFERING EXCEPT … and then just about every possible category of people except able-bodied flawless adult men are listed. BUT during the rest of the Masechet/Tractate, these categories of people are brought back into the community with some seminal teachings, including the following:

1. All may not be obligated in the actual deed of the offering, but if they want to participate because it brings a sense of emotional well-being (nachat ruach) then the community is to enable their participation.

2. Even though all are not obligated in the actual deed of the offering, all are obligated to be happy (mechayavim b’simcha) and therefore, should not be excluded, but included.

3. Many supposed “exclusions” are due to the literal nature of language, but such exclusions are often ameliorated and qualified so that people who want to be can be included.

4. The experience of communal happiness and community is increased by the inclusion of many, not the exclusion of most so that very few are left in the end.

By including and welcoming all into our Rosh HaShana community, by joining all of our voices, sharing the songs and niggunim (beautiful wordless melodies) that so many brought with them and sang from their heart, we were all enriched and floated on the beauty of these tunes well into the night.

By enjoying and benefitting from the food from this Environmentally Sustainable community and its farms and resources, we all ate well, healthily and were nourished in a wonderful and meaningful manner.

By joining in prayer, we all sang from our hearts and found the beauty of words and tunes permeate the air around us with true Kavanah (intentionality) and Simcha (joy and happiness, which is commanded for us all). We did this both in our Orthodox and Egalitarian spaces, with people moving seamlessly between them as they wished and to the extent they desired.

By being in a place together that is so land conscious and appreciative of all that G-d has bestowed upon us, the gratitude we shared for ALL that was there and ALL who were there was awe inspiring in a way that will take us into the coming Jewish year with an increased appreciation of the world and community of which we are all part.

By sharing learning sessions where individuals from the various prayer communities came together to learn with and from each other, we all made new friends and came to expand our circles of the people we appreciate.

What wonderful lessons learned to take into the year of 5780. My blessing for all of us is that we all continue to talk to people who may be “outside” of our conventional community circles and learn more about each other, so we can always be that threefold unbreakable cord no matter what challenges come our say.

Shana Tova and Gimar Tov to all in the Jewish community and with gratitude for all beings of faith who are trying to be our best selves at all times, creating communities that are truly inspiring and inspired.

Parshat Ki Teitze: Going Outside of our Comfort Zone

This Parsha is about how we function in previously unknown territory, that is, what do we do when we “go out,” in other words, go out to new experiences, outside of the confines in which we find comfort and routine as we confront new and challenging horizons. Does going out to war mean all bets are off and we can do what we want? If we find someone in need outside of our home base, can we just ignore them and say “not my problem?” To be sure, GOING OUT can be scary, but if we do not meet such experiences with adequate preparations and set parameters, it can also be limiting, paralyzing even, and at worst self-effacing. How has this “going out” had its impact on us and how have we done in meeting its challenge?

One of my favorite contemporary teachers and thinkers is Tamar Ross. Ken and I and an assortment of our daughters and daughters-in-law have had the zichut/privilege to learn by her. In her book, Expanding the Palace of Torah, she speaks at length about how the male- dominated world of Jewish text learning and scholarship did not want to allow women to enter its doors, but rather wanted to keep the keys to our hallowed texts and their lessons to themselves. They, too often, did not want to have their beloved texts GO OUT to the domain of the women, for fear of what would happen to them; and more importantly concerned about the loss of the power they held in hiding those keys.

Virginia Wolff makes a very similar point in her essay, “A Room of One’s Own,” in which she audaciously presents the topic of women potentially writing fiction to show the male dominance of her world in the first decades of the twentieth century, where male college men ate well, lived well and thought well, while women who had precious few academies of higher learning even available to them, did not have the comfort of monetary stability or even high quality food to give them the security and nourishment needed to write fiction – to think about their world enough to create one that was believable within its boundaries. She imagines that Shakespeare had an equally brilliant and erudite sister, who lacking the privileges of her brother, ended up wandering listlessly and ultimately dying by suicide. How grateful I am that enough women have GONE OUTSIDE of the confines set for them so that we can have the lives we have as women today, including bringing in the texts and legacies of our collective lives!

Ken and I have been watching, which by the way I find extremely difficult, Tales of the City, a series which reflects the work of Armistead Maupin, and his representation of the world of LGBT persons in the United States from the years of 1978 – 2014. In this magical world of Anna Madrigal and her Barbary Lane community, individuals who cannot find a place in the larger world given their sexuality or gender identity, create their own. In the fifth installment of this ten- part series, there is a carefully scripted narrative of how the generations cannot speak with each other even within the confines of this idyllic collective. Younger members of this community that is supposedly inclusive, where members did not find the same outside, cannot find a way to respect how those in their 60s and older lived a different reality than their own, losing their entire circle of friends to AIDS, and confronting profound prejudices that did not allow them to literally come out into the world. Younger women take for granted the equality that did not grow up with the more experienced members of the community, but rather became an option due to their hard work and battles. Younger people of color do not understand the gratitude they need to show towards the elder members of their own community, for whatever the battles are now, they were that much more difficult and unmanageable then. How grateful I am that our daughters and daughters-in-law are able to live their very important and meaningful lives as gay women today, with gratitude to those who ventured out in years past. I love the kindness they show to people of all ages, colors, situations in life, gender identity and sexuality, as they daily GO OUT into the world.

Then I am also following Our Boys, the collaborative work of Joseph Cedar, Hagai Levi and Tawfik Abu-Wael, telling a specific part of the long arc of narrative of the difficult summer of 2014 in Israel that led to the Gaza War. Many people in Israel and the Jewish community are angry that this film does not focus on the inside Jewish story of the three young Jewish boys who were kidnapped and killed, but rather on the dynamics that came later with the revenge killing of a young Palestinian man. We would rather focus on our inside stories, not those that take us outside … outside of our comfort zone, outside of what we know to be true, outside of our established loyalties, outside where we have to confront the humanity and challenges of the other.

However, the problem is that this is where so much of life happens and our ability to develop and use well-honed skill sets to confront these challenges – be it considering a tragedy of another person with whom we may or may not feel a kinship, understanding the truths of another generation and their battles, or showing gratitude to those who paved the way for us to live our lives today with whatever challenges we still confront – it is that ability that will determine how we manage outside of our known truths, our comfort zone, our established habits and so forth. I am so grateful for the hundreds of thousands of Jews across the ideological spectrum, Arabs, Muslims, Palestinians, Christians and others who understand that this chapter of the events of that summer was chosen to be told as a story showing the anatomy of hatred, something we are all both prone to and subject to, in an attempt to make us all take a hard look at its disastrous impact. I am also grateful to the hundreds of people who span all of these groups who came together to create this important series, with the noblest of intents. To be sure, many CAME OUT of their worlds to do so.

We are in the last chapters of our Torah Reading cycle. We are taught that in the repetitive tropes and new ideas of Devarim, we are now no longer sharing the legacy of the narrative that came before us, but rather looking to those generations not yet present and sharing in a manner that will insure their continuity and lives as members of this Jewish collective. We will no longer be a desert nomad people as we had been for the previous forty years, but an empowered group in charge of our destiny. That destiny comes with both established practices and new ones to insure our identity does not get lost but rather strengthened as a result of the new horizons to be reached. We will GO OUT to many lands, some of which will accept us and others that will not, and then we will GO OUT again and do so again until we can live ... with our practices and identity and the promise of yet more generations to come.

This particular Parsha reminds us of boundaries that we are to observe in our behavior and actions that may have been normative for others. How we are to act in times of war, not taking the eggs from a nest when the mother bird is sitting on them, insuring our children behave properly, not engaging in prostitution, not taking advantage of those who are working for us or who do not have the privilege we may have, insuring our legacy and so much else. In other words, we are to consider the good of the collective whole and monitor our actions accordingly, always remembering that we do not do this ourselves, but through the work and hard-won battles of others. This is commanded to us as we are reminded that we are part of God’s holy congregation, no matter how far outside of our physical and psychological boundaries of past experiences we venture.

Then in the middle of all of this, we read

You shall not despise an Edomite, for he is your brother. You shall not despise an Egyptian, for you were a sojourner in his land. לֹֽא־תְתַעֵ֣ב אֲדֹמִ֔י כִּ֥י אָחִ֖יךָ ה֑וּא לֹֽא־תְתַעֵ֣ב מִצְרִ֔י כִּי־גֵ֖ר הָיִ֥יתָ בְאַרְצֽוֹ:

These pivotal words remind us to go against what our inclination may be in terms of how each of these people acted towards us in that past, yet we are instructed to remember that God has a larger plan, that the Egyptians did provide for us in time of need, and additionally we are not to engage in unseemly behavior regardless of what others do. This notion of remembering what it is to be a stranger, that is outside of one’s comfort zone, and treat others accordingly as they themselves venture out of their zones and into ours is critical, a repeated trope appearing no less than 36 times throughout our Torah. Who knows, doing so may just break old established and not-so-constructive patterns!

These teachings we confront in these final Parshiot are all about doing as reflected in the very names of these Parshiot … כי תצא about going out, כי תבוא coming into the land, ראה watching others, נצביםstanding at attention for important instructions, האזינו listening to all that is instructed and only after all do we finally come to the point where we receive the blessing – וזאת הברכה. There is an important message here in this structure --- going out into unchartered territory is admittedly cause for concern, it is scary, and to be sure we are taking chances. However, it is only through those chances that survival happens, the very reason that each and every one of us is here today – those chances taken by others to go out of what was known, take WHAT was known about how to proceed and to go out, GO OUT AND LIVE, for as we are taught, the Mitzvot are given to us to live by them, wherever our lives and our journey may take us. Let us remember that this is both instructive for us and equally, in terms of how we treat and regard others around us.

Shabbat Shalom.

What are you proud of? I will begin. I am proud of……

At this fractious time in our country and lives, can we all stop and breathe and think of what we are proud of and hold onto for comfort, inspiration and hope? It is a most appropriate process in the Jewish community with the beginning of our year coming up and with the school year beginning for all - So here goes… I will begin…

I am proud of being a Jew.

I am proud of the values and foundational teachings of my faith that teach us to care for each other because we are created in the image of God, that is ALL OF US, regardless of faith, ethnicity, sexuality, gender, race, nationality, etc.

I am proud that my faith values humility and concern for others above so much else, even eclipsing so many of the observable rituals that define my life daily, when needed.

I am proud that a disproportionately high number of Jewish adherents are involved in social justice causes and trying through use of all of their resources to truly make this a better world.

I am proud that our ritual observances DO NOT in any way preclude our concern for those around us, contrary to what may unfortunately be observed in too many venues.

I am SO proud that our children who grew up in our home continue to understand all of this and exemplify it in the lives they live.

This is not to say that there are not those who do not see the inextricable connection I live and am expressing here. That makes me sad, but in no way does this minimize my pride in being a Jew, living as carefully as I can according to its teachings.

I am proud of being a person of faith in a world of people of faiths. I LOVE my work in Interfaith and Intrafaith relations and dialogue and understanding.

I am proud to stand with other peoples of faith together in time of pain, and in time of joy, with our respective words of prayer and healing and celebrtion.

I am proud of the shared principles of humility, caring for others, understanding that there is a force larger than ourselves (for me, that is G-d), and the value of accountability to that greater force in my life and in that of so many of the group that I find in these circles.

I am proud of the very strong bonds of friendship and love that are forged while we each maintain the specific practices of our respective belief systems.

I am proud of how we can celebrate with joy what we share and respect and have regard for where we differ.

That is not to say that I am not aware that there are many who cannot do so, but I am so proud and humbled by the many who can and do just this.

I am proud of my identity with Israel which truly tries to exemplify the best of being a country guided by faith principles, while not being choked by them.

I am proud of the hundreds of thousands of Israeli citizens and Palestinian citizens who are able to gracefully and successfully look beyond lines of belief, nationality and ethnicity and work for the betterment of the environment, in creating strong and important bonds of friendship and try collectively to keep this world a place we can all live in together in spite of forces that would work against that reality as well as ideal.

I am proud that Israel is often the first responder in too many world catastrophes and gets no credit for being so, in spite of its relatively small size.

I am proud that Israel accepts the challenge of how to be a democracy and a Jewish state simultaneously, though the inherent compromises in doing so are often not understood or misunderstood as well as overwhelmingly complex.

I am proud of the many citizens and people in the region working together in the creative arts, in sports, in healing arts, in scientific research and in so many initiatives to make this a better world for ALL of us.

This is not to say I am always a fan of its government or of every single practice that is associated with Israel, but neither do these differences of approach and opinion, when rightfully applied, detract from my pride in this country and what it has been able to accomplish in spite of world opinion. There is a lesson for us all here.

I am proud of being an American.

I love that the foundational principles are so rooted in the Judeo-Christian tradition of respect for humanity and compassion for all of its members, as shared by our Muslim siblings in faith and so many others as well.

I am proud of the many ways the United States has led the way in bettering our world for so many, in science, technology, arts, and so many fields or endeavor.

I am proud that my grandparents and their children (in the case of my mom’s and my father-in-law’s families) were able to come to these shores to find a life in which they could live and hope as Jews and as citizens of the world, while making meaningful contributions to that world.

I am proud of the many Americans who have similar family histories and memories and are working to right the wrongs presently inflicted on those who are seeking similar sanctuary in our fractured world today in this same United States of America.

This is not to say that I am not so very sad, disappointed and frustrated that too many people have forgotten these lessons and their past. In the Jewish community, we are constantly reminded to treat the other kindly and have empathy for them for we were once in their situation.

Yes, there are many reasons to be proud and hopeful regarding who we are as people of the world with our various loyalties, but in showing and feeling that pride, it MUST COME WITH HUMILITY, for if the people who gave us a chance and took us in did not do so, we would not be in the position we are presently in. Let us all remember this as we move into the year of 5780 in the Jewish calendar and into the coming 2019 – 2020 year of activity and initiatives.

Watch Our Boys because THEY ARE ALL OUR BOYS

I am always looking for Israeli television series and movies to watch because I love the depth, the character study and the rawness of it all, devoid of a lot of the fancy tricks too often marring what should be wonderful and/or poignant stories in too much of our American television media. It also feeds into my ongoing connection to and love, as well as frustrations (and that is okay too), regarding Israel, so much a part of my life and that of our family and friends. So, I hesitated with this one, and I am watching it, not because my wonderful son-in-law (first cousin of Joseph Cedar, one of the series’ creators and producers) told me to or not because it was simply a series telling a horrible and difficult story (many of them are just too hard to watch, because I am so over-sensitized to violence, abuse, hatred, etc.) but because after doing my own research, I agreed with my son-in-law that this series deserves our sincere and dedicated attention.

Our Boys retells the horrific events of the Summer of 2014 in Israel-Palestine of the kidnapping and murders of three Israeli boys and then the kidnap and murder of a Palestinian boy, about which there were many narratives, but ultimately was identified as a revenge killing. We are all too aware that this region is fraught with so much history, claims, frustration, enmity, unresolved issues and so on. This story, which was brought to light by Israelis and Arabs cooperating to tell a difficult chapter of what has recently been part of this totality of so much, truly asks, no demands, that we look deeply inside our most inner conscience and beliefs to figure out what we do and why we do so. This is NOT a matter of one side being all right and one side being all wrong, but rather extremists, and even worse those who blindly follow them, who are fighting and becoming identified with ongoing battles while innocent lives are lost as collateral damage, which just depresses me to no end, while not addressing the real problems that continue to plague all.

In a world that seems increasingly immune to the harms of bullying, hurtful words, and ultimately the resulting escalation into physical harm and loss of life without any consideration for each other as part of our family of humankind, even sidestepping the foundational beliefs of our religious traditions to which many claim they adhere faithfully, I worry deeply for our present as well as our future. I am fascinated and heartened by a group in Israel, The Parents’ Circle, in which Palestinian and Israeli family members who are bereaved as a result of loss of life due to the enmity that often marks the region, come together to share their losses, to connect as people and hopefully to get a message out that this has to end, because there is only painful and irreparable loss in this battle, no victories. In the film, Our Boys, this is so evident. These four promising lives are ended and snuffed out due to a loss of a sense of humanity. As the old saying goes, if one is so foolish as to practice “an eye for an eye” literally, we will end up with a world of no sight. Perhaps, this is indeed what has happened to all of us on too many levels.

Where Do We Go Now? - a 2011 Lebanese film about Christian and Muslim members in a village and their war with each other also makes this point; in this instance, it is Christian and Muslims who are decimating each other’s communities and families without compassion and understanding of the basic and most important humanity we all are meant to share. While that was fiction but based on a profound truth (and indeed includes some humorous elements), Our Boys is relating real events, including actual documentary footage and interspersing story-telling, to give us the balance of how these horrific events led to an even larger conflict with the impact on individual lives, when too many lose their sense of the value of those lives. When this happens, we have lost everything – the lives snuffed out and the humanity of those who remain. This is what I mourn when I look around me.

This past week was Tisha B’Av and the end of the three weeks of mourning in the Jewish calendar where we consider both lost community institutions such as our Holy Temple, and more important the loss of humanity when causeless and senseless hatred causes the loss of lives. Today, as I write this, is Tu B’Av, a day of joy and happiness in the Jewish calendar, replete with stories of love and kindness (think of it as the Jewish version of a sort of Valentine’s Day). Yet, it is so hard to allow myself to be enveloped by this spirit of light and love when as an American as well as a Jew who is intimately connected to Israel, I feel the pain of too many shootings and battles reflecting too much hatred that ends with too much loss of life. How do we stop hurting and crying and walk away from the reality where too many of those alive have lost their humanity, and in so doing, cause the loss of lives of those who may have been able to contribute much to that humanity, insuring that they will no longer have the opportunity to do so?

Our Boys is entitled simply Boys in Arabic and The Boys in Hebrew, with its writers and creators explaining that we are to see these young lives as being all of our boys – our children – our future. Lives lost as collateral damage because of too much hatred and too little sensitivity to this wonderful gift of life and what we can accomplish with it. This film causes all of us to consider how we must find another way to negotiate our differences and figure out how to live with each other. Even in the making of the film, the bringing together of Israelis and Palestinians in the directors’ chairs, amongst the producers, and in bringing together the actors who recreate the painful events, there is a powerful lesson. If our actors, writers, producers, artists, parents who have all suffered loss and so many others can cross lines of faith, identify and history to work with each other for a shared purpose to enrich our lives, why can’t the rest of our communities of faith and belonging come together to build, to teach, to share pain, and to figure out how to live together and learn from each other, instead of engaging in mutual destruction?

May the memories of Mohammed Abu Khdeir, Eyal Yifrach, Gilad Shaar, and Naftali Fraenkel be for a blessing, and more important a reminder of how quickly promising and G-d created lives are lost due to causeless hatred. Wishes for a Shabbat/Sabbath/Day of Rest and Consideration, of peace, love, and thought and healing to all!

Gratitude and Growth

I am writing this blog at a time where I have grave concerns for our country, for Israel and the rest of the world. I worry when our leaders forget that they are to represent what is in the best interest of all of the people to whom they are supposedly accountable and instead are more concerned about their individual fiefdoms. It used to be that we would speak of those countries who were led by individuals who did not think of the masses and be grateful that OUR country was not that country, and now…. I am worried, afraid, ashamed and so much else. That being said, I would like to think that contextually our expectations have evolved for many, hopefully the majority of us, and that we will be set back on a course of reason where we can talk through our differences with respect and honor, and not outshout those with whom we disagree. The very fact that this can be an expectation or even hope on any level represents growth – growth in what we hope for our fellow human beings, hope in what we ask of ourselves and hope in building a better and more secure world of cooperation and caring.

We don’t always see this growth in our involvements and actions, but sometimes if we just stop and think, we get to acknowledge with tremendous gratitude their presence. I am grateful that all of our children are doing things to make this planet and community of ours a better world. Our son Brian is working as a CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocate) for children at risk. Talie is working to make medicine a more caring practice. Rachie is working with the Jewish Community Relations Council in Boston on many social justice concerns, presently consumed with protecting people who have been in their community as contributing members who fear deportation at present. Our daughter, Yoella, is maintaining her ethical and moral standards and bringing them to the practice of law. Our inherited children through marriage are also amazing, working on Environmental Concerns (Jeremy), guiding Jewish students at Vassar through their faith and identity journeys (Liz) and finishing Rabbinical school while bringing grace and high ethical standards to communities with whom she has contact (Mimi).

We all share frustrations with what is going on in our world. Yet, here I am with seven members of the next generation each working to make things better – to bring us to a higher level of caring and compassion than people long ago dared to hope for. Additionally, we all surround ourselves with those who also have memories of better times and hopes for better futures. It’s so hard to watch the news every day – any news – as no matter which way you turn, it’s clear that too many people have lost that sense of all people being created in the image of God. Yet, we are living at a time when more people than ever are volunteering, taking initiatives, reaching out to others. That is growth. I would like to think that we do not need a catastrophe to spur people on to good action, but in looking at the big picture, it is clear that more people are doing more things to help and share with others. That is clearly amazing growth.

Several weeks ago, I was walking home from synagogue on Shabbat and a woman beeped her horn and stopped the car. We chatted for a bit as we were both moms when our sons were going through school. I had not seen her son, one of our son Brian’s classmates for many years. There was this full-grown man sitting in the front seat and when Teddy said hi, I almost fell over. Of course, his mom remarked that I had a son that had grown up as well. The difference, I said, is that when you watch and see the day to day process, you don’t see the dramatic difference in the same way.

I would like to think that we can use this lesson – that we are watching situations evolve day to day. But if we step back and look at the level of social entrepenerialship in our world, if we consider the large numbers of relatively young adults who are doing so much and not just concerned with themselves, if we take notice of some of the very creative partnerships that are being build and if we stop to consider that so many who believe in the goodness and future of humanity are working so hard to protect it, we will indeed have gratitude for the growth that has occurred even if the Six O’Clock news does not document it.

Summertime and the Living is Easy… But I am depressed….

Yesterday, our wonderful daughter and son-in-law put their two also-wonderful eight-year-old daughters on the bus for overnight camp (YAY Camp Nesher!) for four weeks. Everyone is excited, the girls are well-fed, nicely clothed, loved, taken care of, safe and secure, have pretty new hair cuts, and so much else -- in short truly blessed. And we are grateful.

Then we watch the news and the horrible, unbelievable and terrifying conditions that children and families are in AT THE PRESENT TIME in THIS COUNTRY, the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA at our various borders and elsewhere. Children living without basic sanitation needs met, young people whose potential and dreams are so damaged at this point they may never be regained and people – of faith, fellow human beings, who are being treated as less than human by those claiming to be very much so, at least in their eyes.

Our eight-year old campers are the great-grandchildren and great-great grandchildren of the immigrant population in the various branches of our family, whose members came to this country to escape persecution, imminent danger, and almost certain death in many cases. Sound familiar? If, G-d forbid, the same criteria used today were to be in operation then, with all of the shortcomings and challenges of that time duly noted, NONE of our family would most likely be alive, certainly not living the lives we live.

Let’s understand what exactly that means. Doctors in our family who are serving medical needs including one of our daughters who is trying to make significant changes in palliative care would not be contributing to our country. A lawyer who is bringing reason, conscience and ethics to law would not be who she is. We have amazing family members trying to work to better the environment (because we happen to believe that this is indeed a need), trying to make horrible situations better by working with people who have lived in this country for many years and are now at risk because of new policies out of Washington not at all addressing the inhumanity and horrors that are created as a direct result, educators teaching lessons of caring and compassion along with texts and religious teachings, and so many others. Our generation and our children’s generation IN OUR FAMILY and their hopes and dreams have not been destroyed, but we are acutely aware that in other families NOT UNLIKE OURS this is NOT the case.

There is now work afoot to get synagogues and other faith communities to collect and distribute packages to children whose lives have been destroyed, in one community in which one of our daughters live, she is actively involved in PIKUACH NEFESH, the Jewish teaching of saving souls and trying to restore the dignity of life to those from whom it has been ripped away by policies in this country. In my own Interfaith efforts, we are extremely aware of what is threatening all of us, and I am truly honored and awed to work alongside wonderful people of all faiths and join our hands, sit together, in our various religious garb and with our shared values and try to restore humanity and caring in any way we can.

It is so important that those of us who are comfortable, well-fed, nicely-clothed, loved, safe and secure, able to pursue our dreams and aspirations CARE ABOUT and WORK TO ALLEVIATE the pain of those who cannot. It is only through these efforts where “citizens will prevail where governments have failed” that we can find any comfort and feel that we are not oblivious to the pain and the sorrow that surrounds us on all sides.

I hope that all those in camp, swimming in pools, enjoying the lazy relaxing days of summer and working at careers and goals we are able to take pride in, vacationing, eating great barbequed food, and generally enjoying the comforts of a life we should never take for granted remember that there are those who are not so blessed. It is therefore our task to work on their behalf in whatever way we can. It is my prayer that those who are living presently in horrid conditions will soon be relieved of their pain and restored to the type of life our own previous generations took the same chance to assure that their future family members would have.

Shavuot D'var Torah 5779

Please note that this was my D'var Torah at our shul Mekor Habracha this past Monday morning, the second day of Shavuot.

Thursday morning, I was thinking about this D’var Torah and how I wanted to share something that is a very important part of my professional and personal life, namely my work as an academic and facilitator in the world of Interfaith Dialogue and Learning. It felt to me, that as we celebrate Torah and its teachings and look at the world around us and the lack of understanding of “the other and each other” that continues to affront us in the barrage of too many troublesome situations, this was an important facet of my life to share with you. Namely, in my work with clergy, academics, and people of other faiths, I find respect and regard while we celebrate what we share and acknowledge and hold sacrosanct those specific practices and beliefs in which we appropriately differ.

Then after mulling this around a bit, I opened my email, usually the first thing I do when I begin my day of learning, work and play. And I found the following from a cherished colleague and valued friend:

Sunnie, During the meeting yesterday, we got onto the topic of Shavuot and you mentioned staying up all night to study/discuss "everything," I suppose related to Torah?

I'm leading the usual Bible study at St. Peter's on Sunday about Pentecost/Shavuot, so will discuss both with the group. They coincide in the calendar this year!

I came across this in a book: "stay up the entire night. . .studying and discussing a small section from each portion of the Torah." How do you do that?

Larry Sibley ( lecturer in practical theology at Reformed Episcopal Seminary, Blue Bell, PA, and visiting professor and faculty liaison at Baltic Reformed Theological Seminary, in Riga, Latvia).

So, this is where I will begin. How do we as B’nai Yisrael, also B’nai Avraham, along with others, best honor the Torah we celebrate on this Chag, besides seeing how late we can stay up and remain somewhat coherent while eating cheesecake? What is the foundational teaching and tone of that Torah and its dictates that we so cherish? Is it the very mid-point of VaYikra in Parshat Kedoshim where we read about how to treat people in our world, including loving the other as oneself? Is it found in the Tochecha we read last week, echoed a bit in today’s Haftarah reading from Habbakuk in tone about what happens when everything goes wrong and we do not abide by Torah and listen to God? Is it found in the final teachings of Sefer Vayikra we just completed during the last two weeks, including reminders yet again not to mistreat the GER amongst us whoever that may be, to not cheat, to care for the environment, be a good and contributing member of community, and of course, to remember that God is always with us and in us; holding us accountable? Obviously, it is all of this and so much more!

I feel an ongoing obligation to consider that as we sit here together today and these past two days to explore our intrinsic and hopefully intentional connection to the Torah and its teachings, we should also remember that unlike the world into which it was introduced, today we share these teachings with many others, specifically the Children of Avraham, namely the three monotheistic groupings of Jews, Christians/Catholics, and Muslims.

Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks often states that we must be in conversation with and maintain relationships with our other faith communities and their members. He also leads the way in doing just that, and this is one of the many reasons I am such a fan of his. In that tone, let me return to Larry’s email. Yes, we are experiencing a shared time of increased reflection and observance as well as celebration with our other monotheist siblings. Our Muslim brothers and sisters in faith just finished Ramadan. While we celebrate Shavuot, our Christian friends observe the Pentcostal. We are all celebrating and holding ourselves accountable to the One and Only One God, albeit with different nuances and elements. We are all the children of Avraham –Abraham-Ibrahim. And we Jews happen to be the oldest child, often not such an enviable position. Maybe that is why we often feel that we may be held to a higher degree of accountability in terms of facilitating a process by which the family gets along.

The week before last, I had the honor of planning one and speaking at two IFTAR dinners, one in Elkins Park, where our home and so much of our lives happens; and here in the city, where our hearts are and we actually appear as well. As part of the first IFTAR dinner, I shared the following from my Gemara learning a while back, as it related to the notion that we learn more about each other and share the experiences we can, without compromising our own faith and practices:

In the Talmud, a seminal text of Jewish law and practice, in Tractate Avodah Zarah, there is an extensive discussion about leather wine bags that were conventionally used in the ancient world to store and carry wine, and their permissibility for use by Jews if they had been used by non-Jews to store their wine. While this may seem rather inconsequential and a strange topic for this evening, the lengthy negotiations of the Rabbis regarding this topic are quite instructive and highly relevant to our gathering. The challenge addressed is both one of limits in terms of what was permissible for the Jews, given their dietary restrictions and purposes of use of wine, as well as one of respect and understanding that other religious groupings and people had other uses for wine that were not included Jewish practice, and as we know, some groups do not use libations at all.

What I found particularly interesting about this discussion is the assumption prompting the discourse. Namely, that the Jews and other people around them had ongoing contact, interacted with each other and understood that one person’s worship and use for libations was not the same as that of another in their worship. This notion is not lost on us in terms of all aspects of our practice, including differences amongst us, including various ways of refraining from the pleasures of life (including observance of fast days and days of restrictions for Jews, Ramadan for Muslims, Lent for Christians, etc.) which will differ amongst our groups but the shared notion of doing so should engender a sense of connection to one another.

In other words, this discussion about the permissibility of how to store wine and insure it was permitted for use was not about fear, exclusion, negating the existence of the other or any type of disrespect; rather, it was about how far do we go in interacting with each other while maintaining the integrity of our respective distinct identities. Parenthetically, in another part of this discussion, there are lengthy negotiations about doing business with other people in different communities during their festivals and days of observance, noting that we should all honor and respect each other at such times, while maintaining certain respectable distances as appropriate.

An offered conclusion in one stream of this discussion was that if the wineskins are new, the bags may be used for Kosher wine after use by others, for the wine from previous use had not permeated the bag and thus altered the state or the taste of the wine to be used for Jewish practice, which was the actual concern. This was not the case regarding old wine skins, that had become more supple and less resistant to the absorption of what they contained, thus taking on elements of the wine that had been already placed there, and as a result, not permissible for use by the Jewish members of the community. In this discussion of sharing and interaction, here there are limits that insure the distinct identity of each group part of the gathering. What a wonderful lesson in maintaining the character of who we each are while joining others in creating spaces of sharing such as this beautiful space this evening.

In our world today, imagine if we would all live by the foundational teachings of all of our religious traditions which teach • Love your neighbor as yourself - • Do not make war with other nations, turn your swords into plowshares - • Every human being is created in the image of God - • Do not embarrass or hurt another, for if you do so, you are embarrassing and maligning God -

Among my most treasured belongings are a German/Hebrew Tanach and Siddur both published in the late nineteenth century in Germany. Allow me to share with you how they came into my possession. My parents had dear friends, Gibby and Gladys Stahl. They were generational German Protestants and lived through the horrors of World War II on the other side, albeit with conflicted and disappointed feelings regarding what happened in their own faith communities, regarding Jews, people with various physical challenges, gay people and the others that were targeted for persecution, with of course the Jews singled out for extinction. These two books were found in a stockpile somewhere and given to the Stahls as “souvenirs” of this people called Jews. They did not know what to do with them… until they met my parents, the first Jews with whom they had ever had contact, and ultimately to become among their closest friends. Uncle Gibby, as we knew him, gave these books to my parents and said “I think this will mean something to you.” First of all, I am amazed that he held onto these important “survivors” for as long as he did as they did not have meaning for him. And now, I have them in my library – to remind my family and those in my home and to act as witnesses both to what happens when we forget to act the way HaKadosh Baruch Hu wants us to act towards each other and also what happens when people can be kind and patient enough to learn from each other. This is one of the stories that comes to mind when I think of my parents and the legacy they left me, most appropriate today as we prepare to say Yitzkor and bring to mind all of Klal Yisrael, including our past generations.

We know this is such a central part of our task and Tafkid (purpose) as observant Jews – to include, think of, and act on behalf of others. Even amidst our Torah reading today as we recount the obligations and observances connected to the Shalosh Regalim (three pilgrimage festivals), we are reminded that while we rejoice, we are to assure that our families, our servants, the Levite, the Ger, orphan, widow and all in our cities are to be included. We must be kind to the other, we are commanded to include the other, and today, Rabbi Sacks would have us speak, celebrate and learn with all others and ultimately to realize that as people of faith, we share much more than we may think. On this particular topic, the traditions that have informed the generations of all Children of Abraham do agree and we should not be sidetracked by those who would have us believe otherwise.

Chag Shavuot Sameach to all.

Who Am I As A Person of Faith and Practice?

Note: This was recently published as an Op-Ed in The Jewish Exponent. Given responses I received, for which I thank all who did reach out, I have decided to share it here. Let us all think of ourselves as people of faith and belief and practice according to the God in whom we believe and to whom we hold ourselves accountable, not to the subjective and often arbitrary standards others would like to impose.

Are you really Orthodox? But you are an advocate for LGBTQ Jews. You are active regarding women’s issues and rights. You’re President of the Cheltenham Area Multi-Faith Council. An Orthodox person would not do those things, right? Yes, this conversation is part of my life.

For several years about two decades ago, my family was in the Bar/Bat Mitzvah circuit for our three daughters. During that time, we went to the Bat Mitzvah of a dear friend’s daughter in Connecticut. The ceremony was beautiful and the shul experience was precisely as I remembered my own upbringing with complete davening, a full reading of the Torah portion and educated committed Jews coming together to pray and observe a celebratory moment in a family’s life. I came back and reported my experience to my mother. After I was sharing our experience, she asked how I identified myself, as we were clearly brought up as being part of the Halachically observant community (in a somewhat natural and relaxed manner, characteristic of the time) and this experience was in a Conservative synagogue, part of a movement that was no longer recognizable to me, even as a loyal alumna of United Synagogue Youth. I answered that as a Shomeret Mitzvot (one who observed the laws and dictates of daily Jewish living) who believed in the value of our historical experience and being part of the world and addressing its injustices and challenges, I would still consider myself a Conservadox-Orthoprax Jew (which would technically make me Conservative) but no one else did. Everyone considered me Orthodox given the optics of my level of Kashrut observance, the way I dress, honor Shabbat, etc. That’s funny, my mom replied, because I still consider myself an Orthodox Jew even though no one else does.

Who I was in the late sixties through the mid-seventies as a Shomeret Mitzvot Jew was not questioned. Whether we went to Conservative or Orthodox shuls, we were all observant, part of the world, concerned about social issues, and our level of adherence to ritual law did not preclude our being part of the larger world. In those days, one could find sound amplification systems in Orthodox shuls and Mechitzot (separate sitting for men and women) in Conservative identified synagogues. As a USY officer, I had to be completely observant and involved in full-time Jewish learning. Making special arrangements for classes missed in college due to days of observance, eating at the Hillel dining hall, explaining why I could or could not participate in various events, observing Shabbat, etc. were just part of who I was (notwithstanding a few rebellious years).

A few years ago, a friend told me my upbringing was “not frum (Jewishly observant)” because I did not go to Jewish Day School. Some Rabbis in the Orthodox world claim that I can’t be observant because I am an advocate for LGBTQ inclusion (and specifically so in the Orthodox Jewish world incidentally), I am active in Jewish learning and scholarship (as a woman), work in Interfaith Learning, Dialogue and Relations, teach about the responsibility for environmental sustainability, advocate for social justice causes directly informed by Halacha, and so on. I have had to justify myself continually throughout the years due to the fact that who I am defies the descriptions that are available today in our very color-blocked and limited understanding of what it means to be who we are. If we do not squarely fit into the proper box politically, socially, culturally or religiously we are considered persona not gratis. I have suffered both personally and professionally due to this in choosing the Philadelphia area as my home but have not wavered. Sending my children to the “wrong” Jewish Day schools, allowing them to socialize with boys and girls together and so on… criteria that were never part of my experience as a Halachically observant Jewish child.

So now we have Open Orthodoxy, Modern Orthodoxy, Centrist Orthodoxy, Traditional Orthodoxy, etc. and it is no longer enough to say one is a Jew, or identified with an ideological stance, but now one has to qualify what they mean with even more nuanced and often narrow descriptors. Trying to discern all of this can be exhausting not to mention frustrating.

All I know is we have brought our children up in a Shomer Mitzvot home with the full scope of Jewish ritual practices, observances and celebrations, Jewish education, camp, frequent experiences in Israel, and most important the foundational values and core standards of what it means to be a practicing Jew. So, you tell me, what kind of Jew do you think I am? Further, does it matter? After all, this is between Ribbonu shel Olam and me, is it not?

Troubling Times and Heart-Lifting Messages

Yesterday I was privileged to participate in a lovely spiritual and healing program with our Multi-Faith Council run by two wonderful women of spirituality and faith, Marge Sexton and Bonnie Ostroff. I just love these gatherings and all aspects of my work with multiple faith communities. I cherish how we can simultaneously celebrate what we share and have respect and regard for where we differ, understanding the value of both of these dynamics and their intersection. I am awed by how SILENT we can be to LISTEN (note the same letters make up each word) to each other’s words and hearts. I value more than I can say the safe space we all collectively create, whether it is a group of us taking a walk through beautiful and serene nature as we just did or in gatherings with religious scholars and thinkers from around the world and within a multitude of faiths. I learn so much from these experiences and they lift me up from the depths of concern and worry I have for our world and planet at present, with all of its noise and distraction.

This coming Sunday is Mother’s Day. Muslims are in the middle of Ramadan. Christians are in the period of time before their Pentecostal observance and Jews are counting the Omer, as we look towards Shavuot. This week was Memorial Day and Independence Day in Israel while we also acknowledge that it was a difficult time, the Naqba, for our Palestinian neighbors. Memorial Day will soon be here for Americans, and the list goes on. So many moments to stop and be thankful, be reflective, consider the sacrifices so many have made and may still be making, be mindful that one person’s moment of joy may and will simultaneously be another’s moment of sorrow, and just stop to be silent and really listen to the voices around us. It is then that I think we really learn so many important lessons.

I have shared before but it bears repeating a conversation between Oprah Winfrey and Scott Peck years ago where she was recounting a recurring dream that she has in which she is flying a bit off the ground and keeps seeing children. When she asks them “How are you?” the respond, “That is the wrong question. You should ask me what I was sent here to teach you today?” I just love that notion – it is at the heart of my daily opportunities for learning with so many others through the course of a given week, where I facilitate the process of looking at texts and considering their meaning. But the bonus, the real payment, is the many lessons I learn from those in the learning circles I have the honor of facilitating. Here are just a few lessons I carry with me to help me wade through the distracting and disruptive voices that are too loud and too worrisome in our world today. I have learned them and continue to consider them (thus all are voiced in present tense) daily as validation that there are so many wonderful people and lessons to learn from them. These lessons come from people of all faiths, backgrounds and ages. As we learn in Proverbs/Mishlei, Wisdom can be and is found on the street, that is to say, everywhere and at all times, if we are open to its voice.

From Nourah, I learn to always try to be the best person of faith and belief I can be and to never stop trying. From Neli, I learn that adult sarcasm and nuanced humor can quickly be picked up by a seven-year-old and repeated. From Fredda, Adel, Carol and so many others in my SAG group, I learn that no matter what challenges life throws at you, keep smiling, hold your head high and take pride in yourself. From Alison, Ella, and the rest of the Mishmar groups, I learn that figuring out the nuances of difficult texts and interpretations are the property of people of all ages, including eight year olds. From Jerry S., Bonnie, Esta, Ava, Jerry P., Susan, Esther, and Lisa, I learn that siblings are not necessarily only those you are related to; some we choose along the way and hold onto for life. From Larry and Lois and from Linda and Frank, I learn the beauty of love and marriage at all stages of life. From Tom, I learn that one can care as deeply for your own child as you do. From so many of my colleagues and friends – RL, LJS, CS, MK and others, I learn that we all have our challenges and yet we all function with so much grace and love for others. From too many to mention who are part of my MBIEE community I learn that aging can be and is fun – and vital, well into one’s 90’s and they all share a very positive attitude, which I love. From Rachel, I learn that we should always be prepared to make new friends in our lives, because amazing ones will come by. From so many grandparents of the PJDS community and SLLLs of Samuel A. Green House, I learn how important it is to pass our legacy stories on to the next generation. From Neima I learn how to think deeply and from Adel I learn how to smile and laugh broadly. From Kassia I learn to never, and I mean NEVER underestimate an almost two-year-old. From Yoella and Jeremy I learn that it is so fun to watch one’s children parent as they combine their own styles with what you hope you were able to teach them. From Aria, Bentzi, Lador, Sylvie, Eva, Sydney, Charlie, Yuval, Naomi, Alyssa, Esther, Jacob and all of the other wonderful Mishmar students from PJDS, I learn that it does not matter how old the people in your learning circle are – EVERYONE has lessons to teach each other. From Rachie and Talie I learn how to maintain calm in a storm and how to rejoice when you see your children following their passions in their careers. From Mimi and Liz, I learn how happy one is when one knows their child has found the love of their life and when those choices are so wonderful, you are proud of them and your children. From Brian, I learn that each person truly has to find their own way and be accepted for that. From Bethanie, I learn that flying around your living room in fairy wings can be a great form of discipline or just invoke fear in your children. From all of my Eshel family, I learn that we all love our families and children and appreciate the foundational teachings of our faith in acceptance of each other just the way G-d chose to fashion us. From my CAMC friends and all of those I work with in Interfaith work, I learn how remarkably similar our foundational principles are. From Steve, I very recently learned that we are all “in the middle of our story.” From my amazing husband, Ken, I learn that love and a positive relationship do not hurt or harm, but help and validate every day.

These are just a few of the hundreds of lessons and people I carry in my heart daily. I love you all for the lessons you have and continue to teach me and share with all those around you. May we all value being SILENT and LISTEN for those lessons. Doing so definitely gives us the strength, the Hizzuk, we need to go forth and continue to be better and do better in spite of what may be happening around us. Happy Celebrations and Observances to all.

Lessons about the Days and Weeks of the Counting of the Omer

As we have just transitioned out of the world and experience of Pesach observance for this year and re-entered our day to day world of Chametz, work and the myriad of tasks on our AFTER THE CHAG list, it is important to step back and consider the lessons we might want to carry with us into the coming days, weeks and months. We even have a frame for them, dictated by our practice. During Sefirat HaOmer, we remain in a heightened state of awareness that will culminate in the celebration of Shavuot and the receiving of Torah, the very reason for our leaving Mitzrayim. On one hand, the cycle is all too familiar and could become dangerously regimented if we are not careful to sometimes walk away from what we already know and be prepared for some new and amazing insight and dimension to the experiences of this season as we move forward. In fact, we are familiar with the many efforts made from Hassidic masters to those in the more liberal lanes of our community, environmentalists, and so many others to do exactly that.

Rambam, in Hilkhot Temidin uMusafin, Chapter 7, states as follows regarding this practice: 22: It is a Mitzvat Aseh to count seven complete weeks from the day of the bringing of the 'Omer, as it says: You shall count for yourselves, from the day after the Shabbat, seven weeks. It is a Mitzvah to count the days along with the weeks, as it says: You shall count fifty days; and we count from the beginning of the day, therefore, he should count at night, from the night of the 16th of Nissan. 23: If he forgot to count at night, he should count during the day. We count standing up; however, if he counted while seated, this is valid.

Many of our Rishonim note that, while this commemorates the land- and sacrifice-based chapters of our history, is it enough to continue this practice just for the purpose as stated by Amimar, “Zecher LeMikdash Hu?” Is it enough to just remember this chapter of our past and the Temple worship that characterized it, or does our counting have an intrinsic and relevant meaning specific to today as well, reflective of our contemporary reality and challenging us in new ways to be and do better?

Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks speaks at length about the two different Mitzvot indicated here – to count both the days and the weeks. In the latter case, we are looking at the cycle of life with the end in sight – the way Shammai perceived the time of each week, always pointing towards Shabbat, sometimes missing the opportunity individual days might bring for awe and celebration. In the counting of the days, however, we live for the moment and its value as Hillel taught, and in so doing, we are open to the amazement of that moment which will redefine, heighten and bring more meaning to the cycles as they continue to evolve.

I remember many years ago in my Comparative Religions and Cultures readings during university years, coming across something quite interesting in the Chinese tradition as reflected by the I Ching, or the Yi Jing also known as the Book of Changes, an ancient Chinese book of practice.

There is the prescribed formation of the ancient hexagon, in which fifty yarrow stalks are used in formations of six corners (or in substitution, bamboo skewers or wooden sticks may be used) for the purpose of creating this formation. One stick is to be removed and used as the observer stalk, while placing the rest of the stalks in a prescribed formation, with extremely precise and ordered instructions provided.

As Eliot Weinberger explains:

The I Ching has served for thousands of years as a philosophical taxonomy of the universe, a guide to an ethical life, a manual for rulers, and an oracle of one’s personal future and the future of the state. It was an organizing principle or authoritative proof for literary and arts criticism, cartography, medicine, and many of the sciences, and it generated endless Confucian, Taoist, Buddhist, and, later, even Christian commentaries, and competing schools of thought within those traditions.

As such, it was very detailed and precise in a number of matters relevant to daily living and belief, as well as the maintaining of community. It was reflective of land-based culture, while also holding much more pervasive meanings for its practitioners.

Returning to our own context, Rabbi Sacks compares the individual details of various mitzvot to the cells in our body – with so many parts of each cell and if one part is off, there can be dire consequences. Our challenge is to try to have all parts of each whole element in our lives work together. He teaches as follows:

THE HUMAN BODY CONTAINS 100 TRILLION CELLS. Within each cell is a nucleus. Within each nucleus is a double copy of the human genome. Each genome contains 3.1 billion letters of genetic code, enough if transcribed to fill a library of five thousand books. Each cell, in other words, contains a blueprint of the entire body of which it is a part. The cumulative force of these scientific discoveries is nothing short of wondrous. In ways undreamt of by our ancestors, we now know to what extent the microcosm is a map of the macrocosm. From a single cell, it may be possible to reconstruct an entire organism.

Does this apply to Judaism? I want us to … [consider] an apparently tiny detail of Jewish law – a single cell, as it were, of a highly complex structure. Could it be that patient and detailed study of this fragment will reveal to us something of the totality of Judaism’s spiritual world?

Why do I always find these comparisons so fascinating – because we are all blessed with practices that teach so much if we only pay attention – with some lessons potentially universal in meaning and other elements specific to our journey.

Dr. Avigdor Shachan provides an important examination of Jewish History and the places it has taken us in his book entitled, In the Footsteps of the Lost Ten Tribes. He makes the point that Jewish influences and practices have been found in cultures and groupings with whom the Israelites traded long ago, amongst whom they lived and had contact. Specifically, he analyzes four regions to which the Israelites migrated after the Assyrian exile in 586 bce: Afghanistan, India, Japan and China. These shared and adapted practices are not coincidental as much as causative. I do not believe it is an accident that the numbers and counting of the I Ching Hexagon and Sefirat HaOmer are similar and that both celebrate the produce of the land.

In considering China, Shachan writes as follows:

For almost ninety generations, the remnants [of the Ten Lost Tribes in China] managed to survive…preserving… a handful of customs and commandments… some 150 years before the establishment of the Jewish state, after withstanding the perils of destruction and assimilation, the[se]… last remnants flickered and died.

Yet during that long history of maintaining their identity, there is no doubt in Shachan’s mind that the practices that were brought with the Ten Lost tribes influenced those around them and may even be found in some adopted and adapted versions within the host culture’s practices and traditions. There were temples and gathering places for the Israelite people and their architecture was admired. Sacrificial practices were continued as this group was cut off from the developing Jewish community as we have come to know it in 586 bce and did not bring any awareness of Rabbinic traditions with them. Seasonal sacrifices and practices such as those associated with Pesach and the Omer were practiced with particular attention to detail, serving as critical markers of the community. The Temple of Kaifeng was built by the Israelite population with the same orientation and many features of Solomon’s Beit HaMikdash. Community positions and practices clearly reflected the influence of other cultures with whom there was contact as well as heralded memories of their own Israelite past.

Similar familiar elements are found in other cultures explored by Shachan, such as the conflict between the Pashtus and Pathans which wore on in Afghanistan through modern times, with the Pashtus accusing the Pathans of not being true and loyal Muslims; actually, they were not incorrect, as originally the Pathans are thought to have been from the She’arei Yisrael – the Israelite remnants as indicated by elements maintained from their cultic practice. These B’nai Yisrael would both adopt cultural practices of their host lands while some of their own traditions would become Islamicized and taken on by others. In Japan, Shinto priests continue to wear an overshirt garment that has a striking resemblance to our own Tallit Katan or Tzitzit. In India, more recently, we note that members of the B’nai Menashe would give their little boys at the age of three an Upshirin with a significant twist – namely the hair cut would be placed in a metallic bowl and burned, a nod to the notion of gifts to the gods of the host culture’s religious groupings. This by the way, was the backstory of the panic around Indian hair sheitels some years ago.

So here we sit today, enveloped by our period of mindfulness that comes with Sefirat HaOmer, both evoking our past and continuing to be relevant in our present, reminding us of our own practices and those of communities far away from us in years and physical space, thinking of the cycle of the seven weeks and the individuality of each day anew. Rambam encourages us to engage in this practice as he makes the distinction of some of our Mitzvot, specifically ritual practices as being Mikdash-oriented without being Mikdash-dependent. The Karbanot, for example, are Mikdash-dependent; therefore, not part of our religious life today, for the vast majority of the Jewish world. However, facing Mizrach during prayers, taking of Challah, Sefirat HaOmer and other practices which we continue to maintain these many generations later are Mikdash-oriented, still commanded through their D’araita roots. They remind us of the cycle of Jewish life and history while having a tangible impact on the days we live.

I consider myself truly blessed to do the work I do on so many levels. In my Interfaith work, this season with its cycles and days contains heightened awareness and meaning for our Christian and Muslim friends in faith as well – lessons that I find that cross Lent, Ramadan and Sefirat HaOmer. We are charged to remember that everything comes from God, that we are still dependent on the land and the resources that God gave us, and are charged to protect and tend them well and modestly, as well as act according to our foundational values of respect and honor for all human beings who are God’s created beings are indeed important – yet, we can forget and even worse, ignore them if we do not continue to tend and guard that element of our lives.

As some of us look at values of Chesed, Tzedek, Emunah, Gevurah, Tiferet, and so on, and their interfacing with each other during each day of the cycle of weeks, we can think of new ways these values add meaning to our lives. As we look inside ourselves and take on the challenge to make each day special and consider the meaning of each count of the Omer, we are indeed encouraged to be comforted by the familiarity of the cycle of weeks while being challenged to make each day count.