March 20, 2025

Please take the time to read this entire article although it’s a bit too long.
 
I saw Schindler’s List for the first time at the Main Theatre in Royal Oak, MI with my mom and dad when I was 16 years old. I remember the horror, fear, grief and sadness. I remember all the feelings and the immense amount of confusion through it all. While Schindler’s List wasn’t a documentary, it was a true store filled with scenes simply too awful to have been written by imagination. I have no idea what my parents were thinking while they sat next to me during the movie. I have no idea what fears and dread they had, but I have a greater appreciation for them tonight. Ayelet and I just got home from a screening of the movie October 8, and as we sat together for the entirety of the movie, I felt hurt and sadness in the pit of my stomach. I felt dread for her and Galit. I felt pain I still cannot verbalize.
 
To raise a Jewish child is a gift. Carrie and I have been blessed with two incredible treasures in Ayelet and Galit. Seeing the Shabbat candles reflect in their eyes is a taste of heaven. Watching them dance to Israeli music is something that makes me feel all of the feels. To see them tell our story to each other is something that brings me so much pride. I could go on all day with all my feelings and it would never be the whole story. To raise a Jewish child is not only a gift, it’s also a responsibility. It’s our sacred bond to those who came before us and all those who will come after us. But that’s not the whole story. To raise a Jewish child is to be aware the pains we felt in our lives may very well be passed along to them. It’s to know the fears we had when we were their age may become their fears as well.
 
I visited Israel for the first time in April of 1996, right after bus bombings began to take over the news. It was right after the murder of Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin. I remember the fear on that trip of what could happen. I remember seeing the memorials wherever we went. Sadly, the world is not so different today than it was then. I was in college when the second intifada began and I remember being called a murderer for believing in the right of, and need for, a Jewish State.
 
Things have not changed. The world we hoped to build has not been realized yet. I grieve that Ayelet, and one day Galit, will walk their college campuses and question their Hebrew clothing or their Jewish jewelry. I mourn that they’ll wonder if they should or shouldn’t go to Shabbat dinners and services on their campus because of the fear of being marginalized, or worse, in fear of their safety. Just as Israeli parents have believed for generations that they fought so their kids would never have to, we American Jewish parents stood up for ourselves and built institutions so our kids would have it easier and yet they don’t, and may not in the future.
 
What’s happening in the world today can never be normalized. It cannot be okay that people stand for the murderers and not the murdered. They stand for the rapists and not the raped. They stand for terrorists and not the terrorized. October 8 was a date on which we, as a Jewish people, together with Israelis, were grieving and filled with fear. It was a day when the murderers were still being found within the borders of the State of Israel. The IDF hadn’t even begun military action to go after the perpetrators, and yet across our country and the world, the demonstrations had already begun. Demonstrations on behalf of the Palestinians and against the evil Israelis and Jews. We hadn’t even responded and yet our friends and neighbors were chanting in the streets for a global intifada and the death of those like us. In truth, the demonstrations weren’t about the defense of Palestinians, they were about hatred of Jews.
 
For those who haven’t seen the movie yet, please go and see it and be prepared to be horrified and angered. Be prepared to be saddened and to be hopeless. Then prepare to roll up your sleeves and lean into our work: We have a sacred task to be a sacred community of people who love life and never glorify violence or murder. We read ויקהל/VaYakhel this week and the name says it all, we are to be assembled. We are to be assembled, not in violence or hatred, but in love and spirituality. They will hate us, but eventually their fire will be snuffed out because darkness can never survive when light is shining it out of existence.
 
Ayelet and Galit, I’m sorry you have to deal with the world my generation, and the generations before mine, have left you. I’m sincerely sorry this world isn’t better than the one I was given. I can tell you I’m here, along with our Keilah, to hold you and help you and guide you. We’re here with you and your generation as we continue this beautiful gift of our Jewish peoplehood and faith.​​​​​

Purim 2025

What are our secret identities? How are we hidden? What are the parts of our personas we don’t let others see? Since the dawn of modernity, Jews have been confronted with a debate over who they are since they had the ability to “pass” and be part of the majority culture around them. This wouldn’t actually end up working out (the Dreyfus Affair in France, Leo Frank’s lynching in America and of course Germany from 1933 – 1945) but it was, and remains, an attractive option for all Jews. For many Jews, we just want to be like everyone else. We want to be seen as having all the value and worth our non-Jewish neighbors have. This has led to an alarming rate and level of assimilation that risks us losing who we are as a people.

הדסה/Hadassah was a Jewish girl living in the land of Shushan. Her parents were both dead so her older cousin, almost like an uncle, became responsible to care for her and raised her as his own daughter. When the king was looking to get married again, Hadassah went to the palace to compete for his heart and become the next queen. In אסתר ב:ז/Esther 2:7 we find that הדסה was actually known as אסתר/Esther and this is explained in the תלמוד/Talmud (מגילה י”ג.א). We learn her real name was הדסה but she concealed who she really was and thus went by the name אסתר. The reason for this explanation is that the name אסתר is from the word in Hebrew: סתר which means to keep secret. אסתר was concealing who she really was because she needed to. When she went to the place מרדכי/Mordecai told her not to tell people who she really was and she never told anyone who her people really were.

On פורים/Purim each year we celebrate by concealing who we are through the wearing of costumes. We hide our identities each year in celebration of what אסתר did to save our people. But there’s a problem to this methodology and outlook. We cannot allow ourselves to hide from our identities. We cannot allow ourselves to be obscured from being who we really are. There’s a sense of struggle in what’s being said here: on פורים we celebrate her “hiding” and yet “hiding” is not good. We celebrate the act on פורים because it was a means to an end, the end being that we were saved from certain destruction. Today hiding is doing the complete opposite.

Countless numbers of our ancestors were forced to convert to Christianity under the Catholic Church and they did so externally but remained Jews internally to the best of their abilities. These “crypto-Jews” did all they could to remain loyal to their people and God and over the generations this must have been harder and harder to maintain. They hid then because they had to and today many of the descendants are reclaiming their rightful place amongst their Jewish family. They hid out of necessity and now they live out loud.

The issue today is we cannot continue to hide. In a society that accepts us, we must not reject ourselves. We must do exactly the opposite. Today is not a time to assimilate or to shed our unique heritage. Today is a time to live our Judaism out loud. Today is a time to reject being hidden and instead force the world to see us as we are and as we want to be. פורים is a time to celebrate our overcoming another attempt at our destruction that happened by means of our hiding our true identities, and we can and must celebrate that event. We then need to take off our פורים costumes and, at the same time, remove our secular costumes as well. While antisemitism continues to afflict our people and the world, the answer is no longer to hide who we are but to be clear and aware of our heritage and our people. This פורים let us each commit ourselves to being our best Jewish selves. Let’s see that unlike אסתר, we won’t hide who we are because the Jewish world today doesn’t need us to hide, but needs us to be out and clear about who we are and what we bring to the world.

Shabbat Zachor

I’m on a plane flying back to Atlanta from NYC. I was blessed to spend the past four days learning with colleagues at the Hadar Rabbinic Intensive Yeshivah. The learning was deep and incredible. I look forward to telling you about the classes I took and the learning I did, but for now, I want to stay focused on the weekly פרשה/parsha/portion, or more importantly, the special שבת/Shabbat, שבת זכור/Shabbat Zachor.

Each year, we have this special שבת the week before פורים/Purim. We begin our observance of פורים by recalling the people who sought to destroy us, the people of עמלק/Amalek. We’re commanded to remember to never forget to destroy the memory of עמלק. There’s a struggle because we shouldn’t seek to destroy the memory of the pain and suffering. We can’t do that, because to do so would allow us to move on. We know all too well there’s no such thing as moving on. We have a sacred obligation to move forward while also looking back.

As Jews, we’re the eternal protectors of memory. We take it upon ourselves to sanctify the holiness of memory and safeguard the important role it plays. Our ancestors, murdered by Hitler and the Nazis, are kept sacred when we remember them. Remembering the actions of the Nazis help us work to prevent any repeat of the Holocaust. This is the two-part importance of memory when it comes to the Jewish people. We’ve seen time and again the flipping of this sanctity on its head as the Jews of the world, who are working to safeguard against attempted repeated Holocausts, are being accused of being the Nazis we’re preventing. Accusations of this sort remove the sanctity of the memories of our loved ones who were butchered at the hands of bigots and tyrants.

Our focus on memory continues to be a backbone of the modern Jewish experience. Two Jewish actors, Adrien Brody and Kieran Culkin, won Oscars during the Academy Awards last week for Best Actor and Best Supporting Actor for work in movies about the Holocaust and its memory. Much has been said about Brody and this being his second Oscar for Best Actor from movies about the Holocaust. It’s part of his heritage and part of his story. We should applaud his remarks during his speech where he called out the antisemitism of today.

Each of us has a sacred task to fulfill this year and every year: we need to sanctify our history and maintain our values learned from our history. We must show our people, our ancestors, and the world that we won’t allow the past to be forgotten. Instead, we need to honor the past and continue to learn from it, now and into the future.

February 27, 2025

Tonight is the beginning of the month of אדר/Adar. It is written in the תלמוד/Talmud: משנכנס אדר מרבין בשמחה/When the month of Adar begins we increase our joy. (תענית כ”ט.א/Ta’anit 29a) This comment comes as a comparison to a similar statement about another month: משנכנס אב ממעטין בשמחה/When the month of Av begins we lessen our joy. (ibid) That’s to say the rabbis understood, all the way back then, the dichotomy of Jewish existence. We have times when our joy is increased and times when our joy is decreased. Our lives are lived best when we recognize the world is neither all joyful or all sad. As has been stated far too often over the past more than 500 days, life is difficult and filled with hard times and good times. Life is filled with wins and losses. This is amplified by the Jewish experience. The Jewish people have disproportionately known pain. Our history and story are punctuated by the hatred and violence thrown at us by irrational people around the world. That history tells how time and again we overcame the violence and hatred. As a result of our survival, though, we are forever scarred. Those scars form a large aspect of our collective psyche. One could argue that the Jewish people live in a perpetual state of PTSD.

The dichotomy is on full display today in the ongoing story of October 7th. One day we are elated to see hostages come home to their families and restart their lives. We’re in awe of their strength and their resolve. And then we’re crushed to see other hostages emerge on the brink of death. We’re horrified to learn of the deaths of people we’ve been praying for every day since this all began. Each day we’re overjoyed to read about and hear from people who are our allies and at the same time we’re crushed to see the disgusting silence of those we thought we could rely on. This pain is amplified by those who slander us and support the terrorists who brought this all upon the world. We live in darkness and light all at once and that’s something we should be used to by now. Or perhaps it’s something we should never feel comfortable with, because to be comfortable would be to accept that darkness must exist in our lives.

The holiday of פורים/Purim remains the penultimate Jewish response to the bigotry of the world. It remains the greatest way that we, as a people, can see the world and walk forward. We mourn our losses and tell the stories of our tragedies so we will never forget. Then we celebrate our continual ability to persevere and overcome the hate and anger thrown at us through the generations. פורים begins each year with a fast. The fast is called תענית אסתר/Ta’anit Esther/The Fast of Esther because in מגילת אסתר/MegillatEsther, she asks the Jewish people to join her in a fast while she prepares to face her husband, the king, and expose Haman, our enemy who sought to murder all our people. The fast will begin this year on Thursday, March 13, in the morning and will conclude in the evening after dark.

During פורים we celebrate by observing four מצות/Mitzvot/Commandments. They are:

  1. Hearing the מגילה/Megillah twice
  2. Having a festive meal
  3. Sending gifts of food to friends
  4. Giving gifts to those in need


Each of these are instructive of how we need to move forward. We must never forget our story and we must continue to learn and retell what has happened to our people. This is true of the latest events. Join us this year for Megillah reading on Thursday night, March 13 at 7:00 pm and on Friday morning, March 14 at 8:00 am. We’ll be having an abbreviated children’s reading at our celebration on March 14th. The reading will be at the conclusion of our carnival at 6:00 pm and will be followed by Shabbat dinner.

We must celebrate our continued prosperity. We do so by recognizing that, in spite of all that’s wrong, there’s still a great deal that’s right. We need to recognize that we’re blessed to be able to have all we have. To not celebrate is to allow for the haters to win. The obligation is to have a festive meal on פורים so we encourage you to do so with friends and family. You can also come to our Purimpalooza Carnival and enjoy our Wicked atmosphere and celebrate with us.

Sending gifts of food to our friends is all about us recognizing we’re not alone and we’re part of a beautiful community. This מצוה pushes us to reach within to reach out. It’s something people who overcome adversity can see as a path forward, the ability to share with others. We’re once again offering you the opportunity to participate in our communal משלוח מנות/Mishloach Manot campaign. We’re making baskets for OVS members and a note will be included in each basket you sponsor. Please click herefor more information and to become a basket sponsor.

The last מצוה of פורים is to send gifts to the less fortunate. To recognize our blessings is also to recognize others around us don’t have those same blessings, so we share with them to help them find a way forward. Purimpalooza will feature two ways to fulfill this Mitzvah. You can put money in our צדקה/Tzedakah Box to help the poor in Israel and you can make boxes of personal care items to distribute to homeless people locally.
 
I hope to see you at the Megillah readings, the Purimpalooza Carnival and the Shabbat Dinner that follows. Click here to sign up today.

February 20, 2025

The world is founded on certain principles. Some of them are scientific laws of nature and others are fundamental values all of humanity needs to live by. We expect that, in the end, the good will prevail and the evil will fall. We expect when people do good, the world is made better, and when people do bad, the world is made worse and that those who did the bad will suffer. Unfortunately, the world doesn’t work like a well scripted movie. Things don’t always work out in the end or go as planned. The world is both fair and unfair all at once.

Today’s a day we’ve all feared since October 7, 2023, when we sat in our homes and cried as we watched the news. We were drawn to two beautiful boys who hadn’t even had the chance to live their lives yet. Ariel and Kfir Bibas were two young brothers who stole our hearts and we prayed each day for their safety and return, along with their mother, Shiri. Now we know those prayers did not come true. They were murdered by Hamas in cold blood. How anyone can argue that it’s okay to murder people for national or political gain is beyond me. How one can claim the murder of babies and children fulfills those ambitions is simply immoral and counter to all we hold dear.

The Bibas family was murdered for one reason and one reason only – they were Jews. This had nothing to do with land and nothing to do with nationalist aspirations. Shiri and her recently released husband, Yarden, lived just meters away from Gaza. They were part of a community that didn’t wish ill on their neighbors. They didn’t seek to harm Gazans or to see them denied rights. But none of this mattered to the brutal terrorists. Their innocence did not matter. Their views did not matter. Their age did not matter. Their gender did not matter. All that mattered was that they were living in Israel. All that mattered was they were Jews. And now they are gone.

There are no words to adequately sum up the pain and hurt we feel today. There’s no comfort that can be provided to Yarden Bibas and the rest of their family. The cruelty of Hamas having known they were dead for so long and keeping the world waiting and wondering should never be lost on any of us. This is a group who has not a single moral fiber in their bodies. This is a group that sought the destruction of their own people to assure the destruction of our people. They didn’t care about Palestinian children or women or elderly people. They hid safely in their tunnels and left the civilians above ground to deal with the power of the Israeli Army.

This week we’re reminded of the legal concept of an eye for eye and tooth for a tooth, עין תחת עין שן תחת שן, and while that might feel like what we want right now, it’s not what will make any of this right. The תורה / Torah is not actually talking of retributive justice but of restorative justice. It’s not that we want others to suffer because we have suffered. It’s that we want to bring this to an end and begin to feel safe and hopeful again. As long as Hamas continues to present a risk to us, none of this will happen. There can never be a world where Hamas is allowed to exist because their existence is a direct threat to all of humanity, beginning with us… the Jews. There cannot be a world where terror is rewarded and innocence is ignored. A world like that only brings more Ariel and Kfir Bibas’.

Today is awful. Today is hard and twisted. Today is a day that should not be. And yet it is a day and it is real. We must confront the evil that has brought this day upon us. We must recognize the evil that exists in the world and name it so we can cease to live in fear of it and ultimately defeat it.

 

February 13, 2025

Rabbi Hearshen

Life can feel so hard sometimes. There are moments in the day when we’ve just had enough and really want to take a break from everything around us. At the same time, there are days where we’re coasting and feeling all of the greatness of the world we live in. These days fuel us and help us to see the beauty of life. These two polarities exist side by side. We can feel blessed and cursed. We can feel at ease and burdened. We can feel both of these and have no disconnect.

This week, we read about the incredible time we stood at הר סיני/Har Sinai/Mount Sinai and received the תורה/Torah from God. On that day, the world changed forever. We have two very different understandings from our rabbinic tradition about what happened at הר סיני.

The first understanding comes from a Midrashic work called the מכילתא/Mekhilta and is also referenced in the תלמוד/Talmud. It explains that when God gave us the תורה, the mountain was picked up and flipped upside down while God told us: “Accept the תורהor I will drop this mountain on you and it will be your grave.

Another understanding comes from פסיקתא רבתי/Pesikta Rabatai, also a Midrashic work, that describes a very different vision. God went to each nation and asked them to accept the תורה and nation after nation turned God down. The reasons for the rejection was they were unable to live by the תורה because it directly conflicted with their practices and culture. When God came to עם ישראל/Am Yisrael/The people of Israel we said yes without asking any questions.

These two different visions are both accurate even though they’re inconsistent with each other. Is the תורה forced upon us or is it an act of love? Is תורה a burden or is it a treasure? We need to become more comfortable living in a world where multiple truths exist side by side. We need to become more comfortable in a world where something might resonate with us one moment and be completely at odds with who we are as people at another point.

Our heritage is, in fact, a special treasure that provides us with great fulfillment and joy. Being Jewish has so many blessings to discover on a daily basis. At the same time, we need to recognize sometimes being Jewish is a struggle. Sometimes this is because of the difficulties in observing our Jewish practices. At other times it’s because the world around us seems to have a problem with us. To truly love our people and our heritage is to embrace both of these visions of סיני/Sinai at the same time. To truly be in a relationship with Judaism and the Jewish people, is to be aware we have so much to be thankful for and so much to rejoice about. At the same time, it’s to be constantly aware that, in the words of the beautiful Israeli song, דרכינו/Darkenu/Our Path: לא קלה היא לא קלה דרכינו – It is not easy, our path/way is not easy. What makes it all worth it is finding moments of joy and moments of hardship coexisting in our lives. We can overcome hardship to live more often in the world where Judaism gives us so much.

Parshat BeShalach

Rabbi Hearshen

“Great warrior. Hmmm. Wars not make one great.” (Master Yoda) These words spoken in The Empire Strikes Back sum up the feelings of Yoda and what wars are about. They are not about making a name for oneself. Wars are not fought out of choice. Wars are not good. Wars are a necessary evil in the world because we have yet to figure out how to solve problems without violence. Wars continue to exist because we, as a species, want power and that which is not ours. Wars are not started out of altruism but out of greed, jealousy and an inability to live by the core lessons of kindergarten.

This week we will read פרשת בשלח/Parshat BeShalach. In this פרשה/portion we see that פרעה/Pharaoh changed his mind and could not live without his enslaved laborers nor could he do the right thing and so he chased after us. When we were at the Sea of Reeds, and the Egyptians were on our heels, we were saved as the sea split and we walked on dry land. After the waters closed on the Egyptians, and they were destroyed while we were saved, we rejoiced and sang. The song we sang was the “Song of the Sea” we sing each morning in services, אז ישיר/Az YaShir. One of the lines that’s always stuck out to me is from שמות 15:3:

ה’ איש מלחמה ה’ שמו

Hashem is a “Man” of War, Hashem is God’s name.

This line has always been perplexing. I don’t imagine or picture God as being violent or vengeful. I picture God as just and caring. I picture God as benevolent. I picture God as being a part of all we struggle with and we can rely on God to help us through our hardest times. But what is with this whole concept of God being violent and being a fighter? One commentator answers as follows:

The Sforno explained:

ה’ איש מלחמה, ה’ שמו, even though He at times appears as the איש מלחמה, the “Man” of war who destroys His foes by invoking the attribute of Justice, He is yet predominantly Hashem, the God who practices mercy. It’s this attribute of His which is responsible for the continued existence of all His creatures. When He destroys His foes, He is in effect removing weeds from the garden in order to enable the useful plants to survive and develop. The wicked are like the thorns and thistles in a vineyard.

It isn’t that God is vengeful or violent. It’s that God is predominantly merciful. God’s mercy is what sustains humanity. The reality is this line is there to teach that war does not make us great but war is a necessary part of life and existence. Mercy is the optimal way for God to exist and the same is true of humanity. To think God is only love and everything sweet is to think God is one sided and beyond the simplest imaginations. God is not great because of the wars that are fought. God is great because He helps us when we need Him the most.

Parshat Bo

Rabbi Hearshen

The Torah is intended to be relevant and current in every generation. Each time we sit down and learn תורה we’re supposed to be able to see new things. It’s incredible that we can find meaning in the תורה for today in the words given thousands of years ago.

The focus of the Jewish world since October 7th has been laser focused on the plight of the Jewish State and the hostages. We’ve spent so much time and energy advocating for Israel and trying to do everything possible to get the hostages back home. October 7th was שמחת תורה/Simchat Torah and as such we’ve already read an entire cycle of the תורה with the memory of October 7th and the continual fight the Israeli people are engaged in against their enemies. As of last fall, we began our second cycle of reading the תורה against the backdrop of all that’s happening in Israel and with the hostages. It’s impossible not to read what’s happening now into the text.

The book of שמות/Shmot/Exodus, is the beginning of the story of liberation. The revolutionary words of משה/Moshe/Moses are שלח את עמי/Let my people go. The idea that people are born free and nobody should hold another person against their will is something that altered the trajectory of humanity. This concept is one we all must recognize as being of greatest importance. I’m writing this as the hostages have been held for 481 days 8 hours and 16 minutes. When you read this, it’ll be 482 days and many hours and minutes. We’ve been crying out since their capture to שלח את עמי/Let my people go. And yet they remain. We’ve been glad to see some return since January 19 and we continue to breathe a sigh of relief as some more come out, but we still contend with the basic fact we have innocent people being held against their will by terrorists.

What’s even more telling from this week’s פרשה/portion: בא/Bo, is the very ethical dilemma we contend with today. פרעה/Pharaoh questioned: Who are the ones to go? (שמות י:ח) The idea that we can choose who lives and who dies, and who is free and who remains imprisoned, is absolutely grotesque. This is overtly expressed by our tradition in the תלמוד/Talmud in a number of places. Two come to mind:

Two people were travelling along the way, and one of them has in his possession a flask of water. If both drink from it, they will both die. However, if only one of them drinks, he will be able to make it out of the desert. Ben Petura expounded, “It is better that both should drink and die than that one should witness the death of his fellow”.  Then Rabbi Akiva came and taught, “‘Your brother shall live with you’ (Vayikra 25:36) — your life comes first, before the life of your friend”. (Bava Metzia 62a)

The Gemara asks: From where do we derive this halakha with regard to a murderer himself, that one must allow himself to be killed rather than commit murder? The Gemara answers: It is based on logical reasoning that one life is not preferable to another, and therefore there is no need for a verse to teach this halakha. The Gemara relates an incident to demonstrate this: As when a certain person came before Rabba and said to him: The lord of my place, a local official, said to me: Go kill so-and-so, and if not I will kill you, what shall I do? Rabba said to him: It is preferable that he should kill you and you should not kill. Who is to say that your blood is redder than his, that your life is worth more than the one he wants you to kill? Perhaps that man’s blood is redder. This logical reasoning is the basis for the halakha that one may not save his own life by killing another. (Sanhedrin 74a)

The words that should stick with you are “whose blood is redder?” We, as humans, cannot be put into such a situation where we play the role of God. We cannot be forced to choose who gets to live and who gets to die. It’s against all we hold dear to do otherwise. At the same time, we live in a world that doesn’t abide by our values and ethics. We live in a world where Jewish law and practice are not the norm. We cannot assert that everything must accord with our way of seeing the world. In the end, we need to accept that the process is the process and we’re forced to be part of it. We must recognize the pain of all of this is something we need to feel and acknowledge as we step into a world that looks so different from the one we wished and hoped for. We need to see that our ethics and values are aspirational and make us the moral beings we are in spite of the real world that is not.

Parshat VaEra

Rabbi Hearshen

Can two truths be held at the same time? Can snow be good and bad? Can heat be welcomed and oppressive? The answer is yes to all of these. Snow can be fun to play in and beautiful to look at, while being dangerous for drivers and inconvenient for businesses. Heat can be an opportunity to enjoy the outdoors and go swimming while also being physically draining on people. It’s all a matter of perspective. How one looks at something comes from their background and their point of view, or their loyalties to one side or another.

This week we read וארא/VaEra which marks the beginning of משה/Moshe/Moses’ leadership and conversations with פרעה/Pharaoh. It also contains the first seven of the עשרת המכות/Eseret HaMakot/The Ten Plagues. These “plagues” were instruments of freedom for our people and they were immense punishments for the Egyptians. The plagues were awful and miraculous all at once. When the water was turned to blood, the Egyptians were left with no way to stay hydrated as water is an essential substance of life. For three days they had no water. At the same time, the Israelites had access to drinkable water and thus we didn’t experience the pain but saw it from afar as outsiders. This isn’t to say the plague was wrong, but what we saw and what those on the other side saw were two different things. The plague was two things at one time: a miracle for us and a punishment for them.

One thing can be two different things. Two truths can, in fact, be true at one time even when they directly conflict with each other. On October 7, 2023, the Israeli people and the Jewish world was rocked by atrocities that had no two sides. Murder, rape, terror and kidnapping do not have two equal perspectives. While one side might claim they’re fighting for their people, they have no moral right to claim such tactics can be exercised to seek freedom. Over 1,200 people were killed that day. That’s not to mention the scores that were injured. Over 250 were kidnapped. The victims included children, women, men and the elderly. The victims included Jews and non-Jews. The victims included Holocaust survivors. Nothing that happened on October 7 could be justified by a legitimate quest for freedom of self-determination on the side of the Palestinians. Anybody who says otherwise is lending support to the terrorists.

When Israel began to strike back to defend itself, we began to see multiple truths. We saw that Israel had the legitimate need to take Hamas out. It had the legitimate need to get its hostages out of hell. It had the legitimate need to bring safety and security back to its citizens. At the same time, it’s also true that there are innocent Palestinians in harm’s way. It’s true that not all people in Gaza support Hamas. It’s true that too many people have died in the crossfire and we all should mourn those facts. All these statements are true and they may or may not conflict with each other.

This past week and weekend, we learned of another time where truths can conflict with each other and yet be true. The cease fire hostage deal is both great and awful all at once. Let me begin by saying what it’s not. It’s not a “Hostage Exchange” deal. The Israelis are not “releasing hostages”. They are being blackmailed into allowing guilty people, some with blood on their hands, to walk out of prisons because they have no other choice. As moral people, and as Jews, we have a responsibility to do all we can to free our hostages held by others. That means sometimes we’re forced to make choices that are awful and hard. It means sometimes we’re forced to negotiate with a gun pointed at our heads. It means sometimes we’re forced to break the basic rule that we must never negotiate with terrorists. Watching Hamas celebrate this ceasefire as if they’ve won tore our hearts out. Watching Iran claim that the “occupying forces” are in retreat and being defeated went against all we believe in.

The reality is in their warped sense of reality, tens of thousands of dead people is a win. In their worldview, children and women and men and elderly people, Jewish and non-Jewish, being brutalized and murdered, got them a “win”. At the same time, watching three women: Emily Damari, Romi Gonen, and Doron Steinbrecher being free again to live their lives is something that made our world seem okay again. Both of these things are true at once. The Israeli people fulfilled a sacred obligation, and Hamas celebrated their “victory”. Israel brought back three innocent people and allowed 90 people, some guilty of attempted murder, to walk free. While this batch of prisoners were not the ones with blood on their hands, by the end of this “exchange”, Israel will be forced to release people who should be incarcerated for the remainder of their lives. We’ll celebrate innocent people reclaiming their lives and they’ll celebrate the release of people who have murdered the innocent. And yet, two truths will exist side by side.

We’ll celebrate redeeming our captives. We’ll celebrate our reestablished deterrence in Gaza and beyond. We’ll celebrate the ability of Israelis to go back to their lives. They’ll celebrate their “victory”. They’ll celebrate their perceived triumph over the “occupiers” and the “great Satan”. It’s an imperfect deal. It’s a good deal and a bad deal. It gets us what we need, and forces us to give too much. It’s both good and bad and that’s all true at the same time.

Parshat Shemot

Rabbi Hearshen

The Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was a giant in Atlanta and in the entire United States. That might be one of the greatest understatements of all time but it’s worth stating. One of the core things that made him who he was as a civil rights activist and a social justice fighter, was how he saw civil rights in terms of religion and the Bible. One might have thought a Christian minister would have looked to the Christian Bible to find inspiration and an archetype. But rather than basing his understanding of the plight of the black community off the New Testament, he found his motivation and faith in the shape of Moses and the Israelite Exodus. He saw the fight for civil rights of the black community to be the same as our foundational text.

This should not be surprising to anyone. The stories share so much. Joseph was sold into slavery by his brothers, and many of the African slaves were sold by fellow African tribes. Abraham Lincoln, an outsider, was credited with helping to free the slaves. Moses, a relative outsider as well, was likewise credited with the liberation of our people. The journey to equality following the end of the Civil War took well over a hundred years, and the journey to our homeland, Israel, took forty years. Martin Luther King Jr’s final speech, the final mountain top speech, talked about how he would not be able to see his work through to completion. This was based on Moses who would die on the mountain top and not see us as free people in the Land of Israel. The symmetry is breathtaking and Dr. King took to it and ran. He formed bonds with the Jewish community that were unbreakable. The Jewish involvement in the civil rights movement is well documented and there is no negating our leadership.

This week, we begin this journey all over again as we open the book of שמות/Shemot/Exodus and learn our story all over again. We’ll watch as the new king rises up. We’ll watch as the slavery begins. We’ll see how משה/Moshe/Moses was born and how he was raised. It will peak our interest when משה takes a step towards leadership and defends the Hebrew slave and then flees to the desert. All of this will unfold and then God will call upon משה in the desert at the burning bush and declare for the first time in history that it’s not right to use and abuse other people. It’s not right to enslave a people. It’s not right to think we can own people and do with them what we want.

This revolutionary idea is at the heart of our people and of our faith. Judaism originated the core understanding that all people are made in the image of God and all people have an inherent value and dignity. Judaism brought the core understanding into the world that we owe something to other people. It’s a central Jewish idea that we exist together in the world and we’re each responsible for those around us.

While our people are credited with this incredible innovation and step forward, our story has become universalized in many ways. It’s for this reason Dr. King found it to be the basis of his his story. His “rabbi” was Rabbi Dr. Abraham Joshua Heschel and he explained this in an even better way:

“At the first conference on religion and race, the main participants were Pharaoh and Moses. Moses’ words were: “Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel, let My people go that they may celebrate a feast to me.” While Pharaoh retorted: “Who is the Lord, that I should heed this voice and let Israel go?” The outcome of that summit meeting has not come to an end … The exodus began, but is far from having been completed.” (Religion and Race – Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel)

The reality is we still have much work to do in our world. We must recognize we can do more to help others. Civil rights are not about black and white people. They’re not about males and females. They’re not about different religions or about sexuality. They’re about all these things and more. Civil rights is the basic understanding that all people matter and we need to work together to ease their burden. It’s in this spirit that we’re partnering with St James United Methodist Church next weekend. We’re working together to forge a better world for all. We’re working together to understand each other a bit better. We’re working together to tackle the modern day plague of homelessness. This is just one of the many expressions of civil rights. We need to continue the work that began with Moses and has happened over all these years through the greats like King and Heschel. When we see people in our world struggling and hurting, it’s essential that we do what we can to ease their pain. Together, we can do this. Please click here and take a moment to sign up to join with us next weekend (January 24 – 26) for Shabbat and for volunteering on Sunday.