Weekly Messages

Judaism cherishes the doorway. We are taught in the book of Exodus of the goat’s blood painted on the doorpost of Jewish homes in Egypt before the Exodus to warn the angel of death.

We are commanded twice in the Torah to erect mezuzoth on the door frames of our home with the words of the Shema inside to bless us when going and when coming.

And this week, in Parshat Behar we learn of the strange ritual that if a slave or servant is offered freedom and she or he refuses that freedom, we are to take them to the doorpost and pierce their ear against the threshold for all to see.

We fulfill this strange ritual upon the soul who refused freedom to remind them of what laid ahead in the world, outside the door, that they chose not to take.

Our lives are often separated between that which happens at home and that which happens in the outside world. But the holiness lives in the threshold when we walk in and when we walk out. When we come and go.

Behar reminds us that whether we embrace freedom or embrace the situation we have without wishing for more, holiness lives on both sides of the threshold. May you see it. Touch it. Feel it and always appreciate it.

Rabbi David-Seth Kirshner

This week marks the 22nd anniversary since my rabbinic ordination from JTS. I worked hard for six years of graduate study, and I earned the title rabbi. Once I gained that title, it could never be taken away.

I have struggled with how much of my persona is made up of the“rabbi” role and how much is made up of David Kirshner the father, husband, son, friend, and person. Twenty-two years later I have landed that indeed, the titles I hold are part of me, yet the title of rabbi demands of me to reach higher, behave as a moral exemplar, and to lead by example. Even when that is hard. Even if no one else is watching.

In Parshat Emor, we learn about the roles and responsibilities of the Kohein/Priests. The bible does not have rabbis, presidents, or chairmen. The leadership paradigm starts with Priests and works towards Levites and common folk. The priests were the doctors, judges, ring leaders, and sacrificial supervisors. These responsibilities demanded the very best from those who wore that title.

This reminded me that even in the Bible, we expect the most from people who whether by birth or choice, are part of leadership or who have tasks leading others. From CEOs to camp counselors, we all have opportunities to spark inspiration and demonstrate morality. From all roles, we expect honesty, kindness, generosity, wisdom, humility, imperfection and goodness. So many of our headlines these days are about when commoners rise to occasions and when leaders fail to meet our expectations.

We do not have a system of expectations related to Priests today, short of religious observance and roles. Still, we are reminded through Emor that regardless of our titles, all of us can rise to occasions and be the leaders, inspirations, and exemplars God needs us to be.

Rabbi David-Seth Kirshner

This week we celebrated Rosh Chodesh, the start of the new Jewish month of Iyyar. The Hebrew word for month, chodesh, evokes the Hebrew word for new, chadash. It’s no accident that these two words are fundamentally connected because each Hebrew month is the recognition of something special and new.

Unlike the civil months, the Jewish months are tied directly to the waxing and waning of the moon. The full moon is always visible on the 15th of the month, and when you look out at the night sky on Rosh Chodesh, you will always see (or notice) the dark sky of a new moon.

This is part of what makes Rosh Chodesh so special, you can literally see it in the sky! So many parts of our calendars and time systems feel arbitrary, but Rosh Chodesh is visible to anyone. You just have to know to look and pay attention enough to see the differences night after night.

That is why Rosh Chodesh is a celebration of newness. We notice the new moon, and when we do so we celebrate that we noticed the newness. It doesn’t take a ton of effort, but a careful eye helps us celebrate the change and the cycle. It’s a blessing to notice that things have changed.

In Judaism and especially in Israel there is a custom of saying Titchadesh/i when you notice someone with a new haircut or new clothes. The word means something like “wear it in good health,” but also has connotations of “renew yourself,” because it shares that root of chadash. Titchadesh/i, is a blessing for the other person, but I think it’s also a blessing for us.

We bless ourselves that just like we paid enough attention to our friend or spouse or colleague to notice their new clothes or haircut, that we continue to keep a keen eye on other changes in their lives. When we do that, when we stay attuned to other people, we’ll be ready to support them when new things come their way, whether welcome or not.

Wishing you a week of noticing and celebrating the new.

Rabbi Jeremy Fineberg

What do we do after loss? How do we move forward after a death, whether tragic or expected, immediate or far from us in time or space?

This Thursday we commemorated Yom HaShoah, Holocaust Remembrance Day, a day whose solemn purpose is acknowledging the greatest loss of our people, the senseless death of 6 million during the Shoah, and this Shabbat we will read from Parshat Acharei Mot- which literally means “After Death,” acknowledging the communal loss over the confounding premature death of Nadav and Avihu, the two sons of Aaron. Loss and acknowledgment feel supercharged in our calendar and liturgy this week.

Though the parsha begins with loss, the focus of the parsha is not on Nadav and Avihu, whether their lives or deaths, but rather the rituals the High Priest on Yom Kippur, a role that Nadav and Avihu might have held if not for their untimely demise. What are we to learn about life and loss from the juxtaposition of the passing of these brothers and Yom Kippur? The midrash teaches that “Just as Yom Kippur causes atonement, so too does the death of the righteous cause atonement” (Leviticus Rabbah, 20:12). Why does the death of the righteous cause atonement? The midrash takes it as a given, without an explicit explanation.

That’s because the death of the righteous, the loss of those dear to us whom we looked to for guidance and support forces us to look at their legacy. When we examine the way they lived their lives we find ourselves with examples and models for better behavior, and opportunities to make ourselves better by following in their footsteps. The death of the righteous causes atonement because we are forced to confront their righteousness and explore ways to bring that goodness into our own lives.

Yom HaShoah memorializes the loss of 6 million tzaddikim (righteous individuals), each with their own unique way of being good and decent Jews, secular and religious, mothers and fathers, children and friends, lovers and partners, citizens and neighbors. Though they died long ago, let us take these days as Acharei Motam, after their deaths, and learn about the examples of their righteous lives.

Let us commit time to read and learn and memorialize their lives, so that we may grow from their lives’ examples, and enshrine the truth that their memories are always and forever a blessing.

Rabbi Jeremy Fineberg