Eikev 5773

Eikev 5773

Judaism has a rich tradition of blessings. We have ways to thank God for everything from returning safely from a long journey to seeing a rainbow, and many religious Jews aim to utter 100 blessings every day. Parshat Ekev is the source of one of the most recognizable Jewish blessings: Birkat haMazon, the blessing after a meal. Blessing our food is not an exclusively Jewish concept, but the Torah tells us that "when you have eaten your fill, you shall bless the LORD your God for the good land that He has given you" (Deuteronomy 8:10)-- that is, we thank God after we have eaten. It is one thing to be grateful for our blessings when they are sitting in front of us, and to remind ourselves to give thanks when food is foremost on our minds, but it demands a higher level of awareness and gratitude to remain thankful when the meal has been consumed and we are ready to move on to other matters.

The text of Birkat haMazon presents some readers with a challenge, however. The problematic line reads: "I was young and have grown old, and I have not seen a righteous man forsaken with his children begging for bread." To insinuate that only the wicked have to worry about the origin of their next meal is problematic; many righteous people struggle to make ends meet. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, however, offers a reinterpretation of this line, saying that rather than, "I have not seen a righteous man forsaken," we should read, "I have not watched a righteous man forsaken." We cannot be bystanders who allow those less fortunate to fend for themselves. With this reading, the grace comes full circle: just as we began by thanking God for providing us with food, we conclude with an exhortation to act in a Godly way and provide for others.

Parshat Ekev tells us that the manna, the food God provided to the Israelites in the wilderness, was a test (Deut. 8:16). We also know that "man does not live by bread alone" (Deuteronomy 8:3), so perhaps the true test of the manna is this: if we eat our fill, we will be nourished in body, but if we watch the righteous man's children beg for bread, we will be spiritually starved. The same awareness that allows us to thank God for the food we have consumed must lead us to feed the hungry, thereby nourishing both others' bodies and our own souls.

Shabbat Shalom,
Meggie O’Dell
Rabbinic Intern

Vaetchanan 5773

Vaetchanan 5773

This week’s parshah, Vaetchanan, contains one of the most-recognized Jewish prayers: the Shema, Deuteronomy 6:4-9. Hear, O Israel, the LORD is our God, the LORD alone. These are the first words of Torah we teach our children to recite; it is the verse we ask converts to Judaism to recite; it marks the conclusion of the vidui, the final prayers recited by a person on his or her deathbed.

I have known the Shema for so long that I can’t actually recall a time when I didn’t know the prayer, but my feelings about the Shema changed when I became a parent.  As soon as our daughter, Odelia, started having a regular bedtime, we marked that time with kriyat Shema al-ha-mittah, the “Bedtime Shema.”  Consisting of three short songs – the first paragraph of Shema; Jacob’s blessing of Ephraim and Menashe, The angel who has redeemed me from all evil, bless the children; and in them let my name be carried on, and the name of my fathers Abraham and Isaac; and let them grow into a multitude in the midst of the earth (Genesis 48:16); and a short prayer acknowledging the angels who surround and protect each of us as we sleep – this bedtime ritual offered all of us an opportunity to slow down and reflect on the day that had passed.  Although I was not going to sleep right then, our singing together still afforded me a few moments of stillness, no matter how hectic the day had been; and as our family has grown, I have also had the privilege of seeing Odelia teach her younger brother Azriel the bedtime rituals, empowering her to take an active role in our family’s Jewish life.

Perhaps most important of all, the bedtime Shema ritual helps our family make time, at least once each day, in which we give one another our undivided attention – no phones, no side conversations, no chores. And out of all of the wonderful experiences I have had as a parent – and there are many – the one that consistently means the most to me is also the one that happens each and every night. Sometimes, the most important things in life are the ones that are closest at hand.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Abe Friedman

Devarim 5773

Devarim 5773

This week’s parasha, Devarim, is read every year on the Shabbat before the fast of Tisha B’Av and is known as Shabbat Hazon (the Sabbath of the Vision) – a name taken from the vision of Isaiah which constitutes the Haftarah.  Inasmuch as this is portion is about history it is appropriate for this saddest period of the Jewish year.. But history is not a series of random events; history has a purpose. The prayer book teaches, “because of our sins were we thrown off our land.” The reading of this portion becomes a time of soul searching over past sins and future redemption.

Unlike the personal and individual sins which we contemplate on the only other full day fast of the Hebrew calendar, Yom Kippur, on Trisha B’Av, we contemplate the sins of our people as we learn in the parasha:

 “Then you retreated and wept before the Lord, but the Lord did not listen to your voice and He did not hearken to you” (Deuteronomy 1:45)

Tradition teaches that both the first and the second Temple in Jerusalem were destroyed on the ninth of Av. It was a day of destruction the like of which the Jewish people had never known. And that is why on Monday evening many will gather at Anshe Emet Synagogue in order to usher in the fast of Tisha B’Av – the ninth day of the month of Av. (I will not be able to join you as I will still be in Israel and will observe the fast with my family overlooking the ancient walls of Old Jerusalem.)

Because we live in an age of individualized spirituality I fear that the message of Tisha B’Av eludes so many of us. Identifying with the Jewish people and with the tragedies which we have faced and survived as a people are not as compelling for all Jews as they once might have been.  But as someone with whom the notion of Jewish peoplehood still resonates most strongly I am very touched by the following words written by Rabbi Bradley Shavit Artson, Dean of the Ziegler Rabbinical School at the American Jewish University in Lost Angeles:

“To observe Tishah b'Av in Jerusalem is to allow the past to engulf the present, to induce a willful amnesia in the conviction that the resultant memory will be more true, more incisive, and more real. To mourn the destruction of ancient Jerusalem is to deny the present its despotic hold on contemporary souls, to affirm that there is much to learn from the past -  about human living, about coping with despair and suffering, about redeeming the human  heart…

“Suffering alone cannot provide purpose to Jewish identity, but one cannot come to terms with  what that identity has meant without grappling with the ancient and resurgent presence of  anti-Semitism. On Tishah B'Av, we mourn that so many people have hated so much. We cry over the consequent suffering of innocents beyond counting.

“But this fast is not simply to record the endlessness of Jew hatred and Jew beatings. This day also marks the end of Jewish sovereignty, of the kind of security and self-confidence that can only emerge when a people controls its own destiny, lives on its own land, determines its future for itself….

“On Tishah B'Av, then, we mourn our lost independence and our weakened self-confidence.  We mourn our dependence on the whims and kindnesses of strangers.”

Many have questioned whether or not the creation of a modern Jewish state means we should cease observing the fasting and mourning rituals of Tisha B’Av.  But Rabbi Artson reminds us that there is also a spiritual side to this day.  He reminds us that in the absence of a rebuilt Temple we need to restore wholeness to our people if not our entire planet by striving to be a holy people.

As the sages teach us, “You are not required to complete the task, yet neither are you free to desist from it."

And in the words of Rabbi Artson, “It is up to us to begin.”

I wish you both Shabbat Shalom and an easy fast from the land of Israel,

Rabbi Matt Futterman

Senior Educator

Matot-Masei 5773

Journeys

This week we get two parshiyot, two Torah portions, for the price of one Shabbat – Matot-Masei. The second parasha, Masei, means “their journeys.” The Torah lists the various stopping points, the campsites of the Israelites throughout their journey: they left from Ramses, and camped in Sukkot. They left Sukkot and camped at Etam, etc.

Many of our rabbis ask, why do we need to read all of these place names? Why do we care? Is this not like reading a list of service areas and gas stations on the highway?

Various commentaries to the Torah emphasize that the enumeration of the journeys and encampments helped review all that had transpired during the 40 years in the desert. The place names reminded the Israelites: remember when we got in a fight, in the city of Mara? Or when we made up, in the next city, Elim?

Summer is often a time of journeying, when many of us travel from place to place. While we are on our various journeys, it is very important to take time recalling where we have been, reflecting on what we have done, and what we hope to do in the future.

In terms of our community’s future, we are very fortunate to have two amazing young Israelis, Keshet Jamson and Ayelet ben Shitrit, who will be joining us at Anshe Emet Synagogue and the Bernard Zell Anshe Emet Day School for an exciting adventure. Keshet and Ayelet are deferring their Israeli military service by serving the Jewish people in our community. They will be our community’s shin shiniyot (abbreviated form of shnat sherut, meaning “year of service”). Ayelet and Keshet will live in our community, spending time as informal educators for our youth.

Over the next month or so, you will be hearing about how we will welcome them to our community. As you go on your various journeys throughout the summer, I hope that you will continue having fun, enjoyable, and safe journeys, and that you will join me in excitement as we look forward to welcoming Keshet and Ayelet who will journey to us in Chicago for the coming year.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi David Russo