B'Midbar: Remember when...?

Memory is SUCH a powerful tool. I think we all know that, but - ironically - sometimes we forget. It bears repeating, much like the memories themselves, because especially in times of turmoil, chaos, and uncertainty, memory can help us

get by. Maybe one of the reasons we forget, or just don't like to think about it, is because memories can also be painful. Right now, as most of us continue to endure lockdown and quarantine, talking about our social lives pre-virus, or sharing funny stories about things we did only months ago, can really hurt. It feels bitter to focus on what we had, what we did, and who we were... yet, conversely, it can also help give us hope, motivation, and resilience. This concept converges for me, this week, in the intersecting of our Torah portion, Memorial Day, and a special Shabbat celebration that I'm still gonna try and pull off.

Memorial Day is a particularly good example of this, right? We talk about people we have lost, who were often cut down before their prime, and/or whose service to our
nation sometimes seems tragically forgotten. So even if it hurts to focus on them, shedding tears and talking about their serving in uniform for all our safety DOES indeed honor their memory. More than just recalling, it may also help us pursue peace today, take better care of our current military veterans, or imagine a better future for the next generation(s). Every year, at Ohev Shalom, we hold a lovely Memorial Day service at our own synagogue cemetery. This year, most of the participants will be joining online, over zoom. But the service WILL take place, and a few individuals handling logistics will STILL be at the cemetery. We do this because the service is important, its meaning remains vital, and even just the value of repetition and continuity, of holding the annual service no matter what, has immeasurable power and purpose. If you'd like to call in, our Memorial Day service will take place on Monday, May 25th, at 11:00 a.m.

It doesn't always work out this way, but in 2020, Memorial Day Weekend lines up with the Torah portion of B'Midbar, the beginning of the fourth Book of the Torah (also called B'Midbar, or "Numbers" in English). Having spent the whole third Book
camped at Mount Sinai, learning about a gazillion laws, the Israelites now restart their journey through the desert. As they shake off the dust, stretch their legs, and prepare to march, the Torah tells us, "The Israelites shall camp each with their standard, under the banners of their ancestral house..." (Num. 2:2) An ancient rabbinic text, called Midrash Rabbah, asks a logical question here: What did those "standards" or "banners" for each tribe look like?? Like our favorite sports team today (well, a few months ago anyway...), did each of the twelve tribes have a different color scheme, logo, and symbol printed on all their desert paraphernalia???

The author of Midrash Rabbah attempted to answer that question by assigning a different symbol to each tribe, using various references and reasoning for each. In 2015, our synagogue, Ohev Shalom, created a set of beautiful, artistic mosaics, that now adorn the walls of our Main Sanctuary.

And because the images on each mosaic were chosen from THIS text, based on THIS Torah portion, I decided to make parashat B'Midbar our annual Shabbat Shevatim, the Shabbat of the Tribes. If you participated in the art project, please join on Saturday morning and share something about your experience. Or if you just want to know HOW people participated and what it was all about, come join for that as well. I do want to also note that we may feel a twinge of pain and lament, remembering how well-over 100 people joined to get their hands dirty and make these works of art. No social distancing back then! But memory is truly essential. It reminds us what community is all about, what we're striving to get back to, and how great it will be when we can sit together once more, and enjoy the artwork - and each other - (please God) someday soon.


CC images in this blog post, courtesy of:
1. Billy Hathorn on Wikipedia
2. Ohev Shalom's Memorial Day service, 2013
3. Feedback on Wikimedia Commons
4. mosaics

Behar-Bechukotai: Don't Shoot, Stone, or Sting the Messenger!

Hey there. It's me again, Rabbi Gerber. So, um, thanks for coming back to my blog. Great to have you here. I imagine you've returned to hear something uplifting, maybe inspiring, or at least something to get your mind off the coronavirus epidemic??? Ha, ha! So... funny story. Um... about that... Ok, ok, I'm gonna stop beating around the bush here, and be forthcoming

with you: This Torah portion isn't pretty, folks. And I don't mean gross or ethically problematic or theologically upsetting. No, this one is going to hit home. I need to say something that is going to sound a little prophetic, and not in the form of cool-predictions-about-the-future or awesome-conjuring-of-divine-miracles. No, the yelling-at-us-all-for-destroying-our-planet-and-ignoring-all-the-warning-signs kind of way. Friends, it's bad. I don't like being the bearer of scary news. But I also can't shy away from what I see as my obligation, which is to hold up the text and say, "SEE?!?!? It's right here!! Why is it so hard for us - for ALL of us - to listen?!?!?!?!" So, I guess, if you really don't wanna hear angry-preachy Rabbi Gerber, this is probably a good time to stop reading. Oh, and if you DO read on, please don't shoot (or otherwise attack) the messenger, ok??? Oy. Here goes:

Our parashah this week includes a section called the "Tochechah," meaning "The Rebuke." Mildly put, it's the "Hey, dummies, listen up!!" portion of the Biblical narrative. The Torah isn't pulling any punches here. God begins by saying "if you do NOT obey Me and do NOT observe these commandments..." and then goes on to 

list punishments we can expect. And yeah, you guessed it, we're living through soooooo many of them right now. We can't ignore this any longer. The very first repercussion for misbehavior listed is, "then I will do this to you: I will visit you with panic, with wasting disease and fever that consume the eyes and make the heart ache" (Lev. 26:16). A little on-the-nose, wouldn't you say?? I'm almost surprised Leviticus didn't just come out and say: "I'm referring, of course, to the coronavirus in the year 2020." If that didn't hit close enough to home for you, verse 19 states that "[God] will break down your stubborn pride and make your sky like iron and your land like bronze." So we've got the infuriatingly misguided stubbornness of the conspiracy theorists, AND we've got the sky refusing to yield rain, causing drought... check, as well as the ground encased in a concrete-like substance (bronze) that causes destruction... check.

PEOPLE!! We have to see this. We have to look squarely at all these things. They are terrifying, yes. But this is not "someone else's" problem, and it's not a "sometime down the road" problem. It's right here, right now, right in front of our mask-covered-faces! Verse 22 mentions 

wild animals destroying our planet - murder hornets, anyone?? And just to REALLY gild the lily (but with fear...), verse 25 adds, "and if you withdraw into your cities, I will send pestilence among you," which sounds unsettlingly like quarantine and stay-at-home orders. But here's the most important thing I want to emphasize: Our Torah portion restates FOUR TIMES, that all these things will happen - and continue to happen - if we refuse to listen, reject the tough remedies, insist on making excuses, and scoff at the data. None of this is going to be easy. This is painful for EVERYONE. But turning a blind eye to the realities (and the facts) in front of us is making things infinitely worse. Or, to borrow the parashah's phrase: "sevenfold" worse...

Do I have answers? No, I do not. But I'm ready to face the excruciating, tragic, life-altering truths that are so obviously playing out before our eyes. I'd offer to hold your hand to comfort you... but we both know I can't get closer than six feet, and not without a face mask or gloves! Again, I don't have the solution. But let's stop 

talking about "returning to normal" or "getting back to the way things were." We need to reevaluate what it means for some (often mistreated) members of society to be called "essential workers." If they're essential to us, shouldn't they be valued better??? We have to reexamine our treatment of the earth, our use of cars, planes, and fossil fuels, and so very many things that used to be commonplace and utterly taken for granted. It must end here; it has to stop now. HOWEVER, despite all the horrific things we read in the Tochechah (Rebuke), the Torah is actually still NOT saying it's inevitable, unavoidable, or irreversible. We are not powerless. But God isn't going to change. The hornets won't turn around; the earth being suffocated by concrete can't speak up for itself; and this virus doesn't care about its toll on our economy. WE need to change. WE need to stop ignoring the deafening sound of alarm bells, which, by the way, is getting louder and louder... 

I told you this wasn't gonna be a "fun" blog post. It gives me no pleasure to say any of this, and I don't feel all that excited or mighty, positioning myself as a prophetic voice. But we need to listen. I do too. Because this already hurts... a lot. Let's get rid of the "stubborn pride" at least, and then take it one step at a time from there...

CC images in this blog post, courtesy of:

1. seton.com

2. wallpaperflare.com

3. Andrea Piacquadio on pexels.com

4. pikist.com

L'Chaim (newsletter) article, May 2020: If We Can’t Take It Away... What is the Takeaway?

This coronavirus pandemic, which we’re all collectively enduring right now, feels very Biblical. Plagues, economic crisis, upending social order; usually we turn to the Torah for stories like these! And you’d think that if ANYONE was ready for world-wide reckoning and forced-self-reflection-on-a-GLOBAL-scale, it would be the clergy folks. You know… me. But I was just as surprised by this whole crisis as everyone else! Even as I see signs ALL AROUND about how enormous and, well, Biblical the proportions are of this ordeal, I am struggling to figure out how to interpret what is happening. Or how to respond. 

Obviously, one option is to shout “God told you so!!” on a daily basis, but that doesn’t seem very pastoral, and I imagine that would get awfully annoying and self-righteous pretty quick. And while there are some incredible lessons and signs that I DO believe we all need to acknowledge, it is also true that people are dying - every day - on a massive scale; the joblessness is terrifying; and the economic impact that we’ll be feeling for years is daunting. Noticing the “silver linings” and the important “take-aways” that we, as a human race, are perhaps meant to learn from this isn’t about sugar-coating our pain. It isn’t about ignoring the devastating toll we’re all paying for these lessons. It is, however, crucial to acknowledge - now more than ever - that the most important insights we ever learn as human beings are essentially ALWAYS painful. And this, without question, is hurting.

Focusing on the take-aways isn’t about trying to be upbeat or cheery, it’s about making sure these deaths and this pain hasn’t been for nothing. We cannot allow ourselves to suffer so enormously… and then learn absolutely NOTHING on the other end. No, let’s stop and be mindful for a moment (or A LOT longer…) and notice some incredible things that are happening right now:

Pollution is down globally on an unprecedented level. Read stories about India, Brazil, China, and the other places around the globe where people can breathe - and actually SEE without smog covering their eyes! - for the first time in decades!

Animals are coming out of hiding. Their habitats are normally shoved aside by human growth and expansion. All of a sudden, lions are sprawled on roads in Africa, mountain goats saunter through Welsh towns, and bird song can be heard in city centers where it was NEVER silent enough for such things before.

But also other puzzling consequences, like prisons having to reexamine who should (still) be incarcerated, and what might it mean to ACTUALLY try and reduce the prison population?

And perhaps one of the most important realizations for us as a civilization; who is an “essential worker”? Before COVID-19, the “essential” people in our lives were athletes, movie stars, politicians, financial managers and lawyers (and I don’t mean to offend any Ohevites here…). Now, doctors and nurses are still essential; perhaps more than ever! But we’ve also discovered that the people who are REALLY vital to basic human existence are also the grocery store workers, trash collectors (maybe more than anyone else!), pharmacy workers, mail carriers, and those who work in ANY aspect of the food industry. So why are they paid minimum wage? Why are so many without benefits? How is any of this acceptable? Perhaps these are jobs that don’t require a lot of education or specialized skill… but I don’t see most of us lining up to be trash or recycling collectors. So the people who ARE willing to do those jobs, shouldn’t we be more grateful to them and pay them for their incredible service to EVERYONE ELSE in society??

I’m sure you’ve had other insights of your own as well. Or heard others in the news. Focusing on these stories is about learning something from this, and striving to make our world better as a result. Otherwise, if all we do is demand that things go back to “normal” and we try to forget this ever happened as soon as possible; it will all have been absolutely and utterly in vain. I don’t know where the coronavirus came from, why it is here, or how long it will be a fixture in our lives. But RIGHT NOW is the time to utilize this pandemic to improve human (and animal, and plant, and air…) quality of life. 

So often we ask God for signs. We ask for some signal to come and tell us what it means to be a human being, why we are here, what we’re supposed to do with our lives, and what the meaning of it all really is. Maybe the sign has come. It’s scary, it’s overwhelming, it comes wearing a facemask and gloves, and it involves spending A LOT of time quarantined indoors. But it IS a sign. Of BIBLICAL proportions! Let’s listen and learn and internalize… and change.

Sincerely,

Rabbi Gerber

Emor: What's in a Name? (repost from 2016)

While this blog post is from 2016, we ARE actually planning to do another visit to the cemetery in 2020... albeit virtually! If you would like to join our Hebrew School students, to learn about the Ohev Cemetery, about how we create (and decipher) inscriptions on grave markers, and about the burial of books/documents with God's Name on it, please see below for updated info IN RED on the 2020 edition of this event...

A couple of months ago, I wrote a blog post about God's Name. It was sort of a rant, mainly around how much I dislike the use of "G-d" when writing God's Name in English. If you haven't already read that post (and would like to), you can find it here.

One lingering question that I never really answered, and which I think deserves at least SOME consideration is, "Why does it matter?" What are the long-term ramifications of writing "G-d" versus "God," and who, honestly, cares? I wanted to return to this question now, because next week (update for 2020: in a few weeks) we are engaging in another important Jewish ceremony here at Ohev Shalom. It is a ritual that is entirely pointless if we cannot answer the question, "Why does it matter?" And I also believe that having a sufficient and meaningful answer to this query has a lasting impact on so many other things that we do in our day-to-day lives.

This week, our Torah portion is Emor, and we read in Emor a familiar statement from God: "You shall not profane My holy Name, that I may be sanctified in the midst of the Israelite people - I, the Lord, who sanctify you." (Leviticus, 22:32). In fact, at least six times in Leviticus - from chapters 18 to 22 - we are instructed not to defile, desecrate, or simply disrespect the Name of God. Back in March,

when I wrote about God's Name, I referenced the Ten Commandments, which also talk about not taking Adonai's Name in vain, but the reality is that it is a common trope throughout the Bible: Stop misusing God's holy Name!!! But if these laws and regulations AREN'T talking about using "G-d" (and I promise you, they are NOT), what are they asking us to do? What does it mean to disrespect God's Name, and how can we avoid doing so? One of the rules that the rabbis created, based on this concept, is the importance of treating sacred books, that contain God's Name, with respect and dignity. And yet, try as we might to take good care of holy books like Siddurim and Chumashim, sometimes they just get worn out. What then?

Well, next week (update for 2020: in June), we are inviting children from our religious school, AND any interested adults who would like to participate, to come to our Ohev cemetery in Brookhaven, PA, and help us bury sacred books that can no longer

be used. In Judaism, we honor God's Name in writing by not throwing away any text that includes that Name, and instead burying it at a Jewish cemetery. This also includes every single sheet of paper that has "Adonai" or "Elohim" written on it, whether handwritten, Xeroxed, or printed out, and it is further extended to all old tallitot (or talises), to sets of tefillin, and honestly anything that is a sacred, Jewish object. I am inviting you to join us, to bring any Hebrew prayer books or Judaica items, on Wednesday afternoon, May 25th, 2016, at 5:00 p.m., (update for 2020: Wednesday, June 3rd, at 4:30 p.m.) and together we will honor God's Name in a way that our Jewish ancestors have done for thousands of years.

And yet, I feel we must also return to our original question: "Why?" Why are we doing this? Why does it matter? Well, I can definitely tell you that I'm NOT doing it for fear of angering God. My theology doesn't work that way. We aren't doing this to appease or placate some ill-tempered deity who might otherwise smite us all for our insolence. No, I believe it's about you and me, right here back on earth. The way we show respect for someone or some-thing says A LOT about us.

Respecting God and God's Name is actually about respecting ourselves; showing sensitivity, humility, and appreciation for something outside of our own internal narratives. We otherwise get terribly caught up in our own needs. You may ask, "Why care so much about God's Name, a four-letter scratch on a printed piece of paper?" Well, you have to believe in something, don't you? Some concept, value, or ethic outside your own echo chamber? So much of the violence and devastation we see in the world comes from a lack of humility; people who care only about themselves and their own needs. Honoring God's Name is about saying there's more to this world than just me and my immediate needs. Our ceremony on Wednesday (update for 2020: on June 3rd) may look like it's focusing on death, but to me, it's actually a symbol of how much our religion is full of respect, sensitivity, mindfulness, and life. I hope to see you there! (update for 2020: I still hope to see you there! 😁 )

Photos in this blogpost:
1. CC image courtesy of Geagea on Wikimedia Commons
2. CC image courtesy of Daderot on Wikimedia Commons
3. CC image courtesy of Gordon Griffiths on Wikimedia Commons
4. CC image courtesy of Rrafson on Wikimedia Commons

Acharei Mot-Kedoshim: A Shabbat of Joy and Hope... and Eight Others Too!

A few years ago, a group of folks from my congregation planned a trip to Israel. We worked together for many months - created a whole itinerary, met several times to get everyone excited, discussed logistics, and ironed out all the details - and then, a few, short weeks before the trip was going to take place, fighting broke out in Israel (more than usual), and we had to cancel everything.

We were all devastated and heart-broken, and it was a very painful defeat. However, one year later, almost the entire group was back together, and THIS TIME we made it to the Holy Land!! Not only that, but the experience was perhaps heightened, and that much more special BECAUSE we had to start all over again and overcome adversity. It felt so incredibly devastating at the time, yet all the more meaningful and empowering twelve months later. I am feeling similar emotions to that Israel trip right now, in preparation for tomorrow's Shabbat morning service.

In January of 2019 - 16 months ago - I started meeting with a group of congregants to learn (or relearn, for some) the Aleph-Bet-basics of Hebrew. An impressive group of people kept meeting for months, and then eventually transitioned to an Adult B'nai
(or actually "B'not," since they're all women) Mitzvah class. A few people had to drop out along the way, and a couple of new people joined in, and for the past year, I've been working with an absolutely phenomenal group of ten women. They've been studying, discussing, learning, arguing, laughing (and sometimes crying), supporting, and committing 110% to the monumental task of chanting from the Torah scroll & leading parts of the service. And some will also be speaking in front of the congregation about their/our shared experience. As if the task wasn't daunting enough - having to fit study time into "regular" life and delving into some way-outside-their-comfort-zone skills - a pandemic was suddenly thrown into the mix! Obviously, our service would need to be postponed... possibly even canceled... right?

Nope! Not this group. Tomorrow morning, the service will continue as planned, but over Zoom, and with a few necessary modifications.

In addition, similar to our thwarted Israel adventure, the whole class has resolved to learn yet ANOTHER Torah reading in the future, so that they too can enjoy the gratifying feeling of both doing the service in-person AND proving that we will not be defeated by adversity. Some individuals have postponed their sharing of reflections, until such time as they can be done in our Main Sanctuary... because they WILL be back! (You're welcome, Tammy...) I am so impressed with their resolve and commitment, just as I was inspired by the participants on that Israel trip, several years ago. And even though our Torah portion is about something TOTALLY different, that has nothing to do with traveling or Torah reading or perseverance, I actually still found a section that reminded me of these two fabulous and undeterred groups.

In Leviticus, 19:23-25, the Torah talks about practices and commandments for when the wandering Israelites eventually enter the Land of Israel. (They too had to wait to get there, though slightly longer than our tour group...) This particular passage talks about

when you plant new crops, and how you cannot partake of the fruit for THREE years after they've started to grow! Then, when three years are finally up... you have to wait yet ANOTHER year, as the Torah declares: "In the fourth year all its fruit shall be set aside for jubilation before Adonai." Only in Year Five may you begin to enjoy the produce... that YOU planted!! Whatever agricultural, theological, or halachic (legal) reasons the text may have for these laws, one thing that you and I may learn from this is patience. There is value in delayed gratification, and even a sense of HEIGHTENED joy when you finally get to have that coveted experience! Often, in life, we want what we want when we want it. And we believe that getting it *right away* would without-a-doubt be the ideal. But whether it's travel abroad, a delicious looking apple, or a hard-earned rite of passage, sometimes waiting makes the fulfillment that much sweeter.

Mazal Tov to our wonderful, fabulous, phenomenal, inspiring, talented class!! This post is dedicated to all of you; Bev, Hope, Inge, Jodi, Joy, Lisa, Sherry, Tammy, Vicky... and maybe just SLIGHTLY more to Cathy, who was my partner-in-crime on that Israel trip too! :-)

Images in this blog post courtesy of my iPhone:
1. Our brave Israel travelers in August of 2015!
2. A dreaded page from the trope/cantillation portion of our learning :-)
3. B'not Mitzvah class, hard at work last summer
4. The whole crew, ready for a Zoom-stravaganza!!!