Weekly Messages

Usually, this column is dedicated to a D’Var Torah that connects the weekly portion with events in our lives and inspires us to be the best people we can. This week, our collective minds are in the Ukraine and it is hard to not hurt from afar for the needless suffering and upheaval this unprovoked war has caused.

Pekudei, comes from the word, PaKaD – which means to keep or take an accounting for. This is another time in history where our community is accounting for those who are in a moment of peril.

Conflict 4000 miles away leaves most here feeling hopeless. Glued to news outlets and fixated on dramatic images, our emotions are stirred but we do not know the best outlet for those feelings.

I want to make a few humble suggestions of causes we can support and actions we can take to be supportive at this time:

The JDC has been in Ukraine for decades and will be there after this incursion. They do holy work and any support you can muster will go a long way. There are 200,000 people who identify as Jewish in the Ukraine. The JDC bridges them to our global community.

https://www.jdc.org/disasters/ukraine-response/?utm_campaign=ukraine-response-2022&utm_medium=slideup&utm_source=web

The JCC in Krakow has been absorbing some Ukrainian refugees. Learn about their work, here.

https://www.timesofisrael.com/learning-on-the-fly-krakows-jcc-turns-into-refugee-support-center/

or

friendsofjcckrakow.org/ukraine

ORT has had day schools and vocational schools throughout the Ukraine. ORT does holy work and our support will be immeasurable.

https://ort.org/en/

The AJC – American Jewish Committee has been working fiercely for the safety of the Ukrainian people. You can be supportive here.

https://global.ajc.org/secure/donate

Inevitably, residents of Ukraine will morph into refugees as they flee, seeking a safe home. Collecting everything from gently used clothing to toiletries and diapers will help us for when and where we know where to send them.

Lastly, do not discount the power and purpose of prayer. For centuries we have united around prayer, and it has galvanized us in our weakest moments and provided light when it felt darkest.

Some chant traditional prayers of Psalms and others prefer modern words to contextualize the moment. This is a prayer written by my friend, Rabbi Naomi Levy:

A Prayer of Peace for the People of Ukraine

by Rabbi Naomi Levy

God, Our hearts are with all the people of Ukraine,

Its president, Volodymyr Zelensky,

And with our Jewish brothers and sisters in Ukraine

200,000 souls

Who crouch in fear

As the sound of sirens and bombs pierces the air.

Synagogues once filled with songs of celebration

Have become makeshift shelters.

Echos of the Holocaust reverberate,

The memory of the one and a half million

Martyred Ukrainian Jews.

God, we pray that the panic in the streets of Ukraine

Will give way to the sound of children playing,

And the sound of sirens will give way to songs of hope.

We pray that the world community will unite

And cause the Russian army to retreat.

We pray for no more violence

Or bloodshed

And we pray that diplomacy

Will be the path to peace.

Hear our prayers, God,

Hear the prayers of the mothers and fathers,

the prayers of the children

longing for safety.

God, our Shelter,

Bring peace.

Let it rain down from the heavens like a mighty storm.

Let it wash away all hatred and bloodshed.

Peace, God. Please, God. Amen.

Rabbi David-Seth Kirshner

What do we do when we have enough? Do we keep taking or keep receiving, or do we say that we have enough?

Our parsha, Vayakhel, challenges us with that exact question when describing the quantity of donations that B’nai Yisrael contributed to the building of the Mishkan. The artisans in charge of the building project come to Moses with an odd complaint: “The people are bringing more than is needed for the tasks entailed in the work that God has commanded to be done.” (Exodus 36:5). The people are too generous, what a good problem to have! I can just think of all of the non-profits and synagogues I know of that would love to have that particular problem.

Yet instead of allowing the contributions to keep rolling in, to fill the Mishkan’s coffers or supply closets, Moses commands: “Let no man or woman make further effort toward gifts for the sanctuary!”(Exodus 36:6). Why does he do this, rejecting the extra donations of money and material?

Our sages teach that because this building project was so important and public, Moses wanted to make sure everything was extremely above board. He wouldn’t accept extra donations, even if they might one day be necessary because there was enough now. The minimums had all been met and Moses didn’t want the people to think that he or the Mishkan would take any more than what was absolutely necessary to complete the Mishkan.

It’s a powerful lesson, to only take or receive exactly what we need. In a society and culture that is all about getting and taking and having more, to be able to look at all we have and actually be able to say, “I have enough,” is a monumentally holy and powerful act. To feel that way and to act that way is a challenge and blessing that I hope each of us can find the strength to meet.

Wishing you the blessing of enough.

Rabbi Jeremy Fineberg

Is it better to be stubborn, defiant, to stick to our ideas, or to be compliant, obedient, or flexible? While we often praise flexibility and being able to adapt, there’s something gratifying and proud about being stubborn. How many of us if given the choice would rather be defined as stubborn than compliant?

The Jewish people are often referred to as “a stiffnecked people,” which has its roots in this week’s parsha, Ki Tissa, when the Jewish People sin by creating and worshiping a golden calf. The commentator Sforno describes this stiffnecked-ness best, saying, “Their neck is like a tendon made of iron so that they will not turn in any direction to listen to advice and admonition from any source.” To be stiffnecked means that you can’t turn around to see your mistakes or heed advice, you can only move stubbornly forward, as if your head was stuck at 12 o’clock. To be unable to change, adapt, or move on.

But there are other times when Jewish people have been saved by this characteristic stubbornness, a sense that despite all of the reasons to turn aside from our faith and way of life, we will continue to charge ahead, doggedly sticking to our ideals. Many have noted that it’s the stiffnecked nature of our people which is why we’re still here, but the ancient Babylonians and Romans are not.

So which is it? Is it good or bad to be stiffnecked? The Jewish answer is that it’s both. According to the teachings of Mussar, the traditional Jewish practice of developing character traits, each characteristic has its time to shine, and each one of us has to learn when to be more and less stiffnecked. The more meek and meager among us need to develop the stubbornness to fight for what they believe in, and those who are normally the surest of themselves could use a healthy dose of flexibility and compliance. Judaism teaches moderation in all things, especially behaviors.

As we enter shabbat let’s think about the ways that each of us can benefit from being more or less stiffnecked. There are so many directions for us to grow, as long as we make sure we’re flexible enough to both proudly face forward and turn to advice when we need it.

Rabbi Jeremy Fineberg

I often quote the television show Happy Days when ‘The Fonz’ has to say he was incorrect but can’t get the words out. “I was wrrrrrrr. I am sssssoooooor.” He cannot seem to utter the words, ‘I was wrong’ or ‘I am sorry.’

Elton John wrote a chart topper on the same notion: We all know, “Sorry” seems to be the hardest words.

Today, finding someone with the temerity and courage to admit their mistake and seek forgiveness is a rare commodity. We are living in a culture where digging in our heels and doubling down, regardless of how wrong we might be, seems to generate more points than the ability to acknowledge our vulnerability and imperfection.

When Whoopi Goldberg made remarks invoking the Holocaust this week on The View, she made some people upset. Whites talking about race and gentiles speaking about the Holocaust have turned into the third rail of conversations. Whoopi heard from all streams of the Jewish and Holocaust memory world pushing back on the assertions she made on air.

Within hours of The View, Whoopi made a full-throated, unabashed apology. There were no what-about-isms. She did not try to explain herself. She did not dig in her heels nor double down on her initial statement. She apologized for hurt she caused, acknowledged she misspoke, and caused pain. She demonstrated openness to learning about how better to craft her thoughts and words related to this topic in the future.

Whoopi tweeted this apology to her millions of followers. She then opened The View the next day with her apology and hosted the head of the Anti-Defamation League to discuss the proper context of the Holocaust and race for future conversations. During the entire segment, Whoopi was contrite, remorseful, and humble.

I had hoped that as I put myself to bed last night, so did this issue.

I was wrong.

I awoke in the morning to learn that Whoopi has been suspended from The View for two-weeks time, “to reflect on her comments.”

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Why?! Have we lost the value of an apology? What will further reflection provide that has not already been achieved?

Maimonides lays out three valuable steps for seeking forgiveness:

1) Admitting wrong

2) Showing sincere remorse

3) Making the wrong, as right as possible

Whoopi followed these to a T. She perfected Judaism’s view of Teshuvah (forgiveness). Her actions would satisfy any public relations guru. Why did it not satisfy The View and her network?

While I appreciate the solidarity the head of ABC (the parent company of The View) is signifying with the Jewish people, I think it is not very Judeo-Christian or ethical to suspend Ms. Goldberg. She should be back on The View, now.

Whoopi Goldberg is a veteran of the entertainment industry. In her extensive career, she has held a sterling, and well-deserved reputation as a kind-hearted and thoughtful person. She does not have one racist, antisemitic or hateful bone in her body. Her long and diverse history has proven that.

Whoopi’s ability to unambiguously apologize and recognize her mistake should be heralded, not opposed. We should champion the clinic Whoopi put forward on national television on how to own an error and to show the ability to learn, grow, and be corrected, with grace and dignity, instead of fueling her blunder.

Her suspension is against the grain of everything Whoopi is about and exhibited. It is undignified, coarse and models to people of all ages that owning our misdeeds and apologies have more negative consequences than ignoring them does.

Please put Whoopi back on The View where she belongs and let the world take note that we should all be able to handle ourselves — our rights and wrongs — like Whoopi Goldberg.

The events of last Saturday, in Colleyville have caused us to take a collective sigh of relief and a deep gasp for air, at the same time. We are relieved that the situation ended with the physically safe release of the four hostages. But, it was a stark reminder of the dangers that lurk in our world and the heightened threats of being Jewish in America.

Three glaring ironies of the events of last week stood out to me:

1) I do not know Rabbi Cytron Walker. Though, it is rabbis like him that encouraged me to become a rabbi.

When I was in college, I would frequent different shuls and minyanim whenever I would get the chance. In each prayer space that I entered, I judged the welcoming nature of the leadership more than the food after the service or the décor of the room. Some clergy invited me for Shabbat lunch minutes after meeting and others could care less that I was a guest in their community.

Rabbi Cytron Walker is the former type of rabbi and community leader. Rabbi Cytron Walker treated his last months at the congregation like they were his first. He welcomed in the stranger, offered him tea on a cold day to warm up, and demonstrated the hospitality that Abraham and Sarah showed in the time of the Bible. It is this ethic, ironically that made Rabbi Cytron Walker and his congregation, vulnerable.

Were the rabbi to have leaned toward the side of worry, concern and fear and peppered this would-be terrorist with questions and queries as to his background and presence on this Shabbat, perhaps his alarm would have staved off the traumatic events. But had he done so, the rabbi would have simultaneously failed as a Jewish professional.

Core to our future and fundamental to our collective success is the notion of being welcoming to all. When we build fortresses around our places of prayer, we offer security to those inside and ward off those who seek to do evil but, at the same time, we deny a sense of openness and welcome to individuals who seek refuge, people who have questions and souls who genuinely need a place to warm up on a cold day.

2) Allegedly, the terrorist chose a synagogue because he believed “Jews control the world.” He wanted us to wield that “imaginary” power to release a convicted felon from federal custody. The gunman even contacted a prominent rabbi in New York to exert her influence to help him achieve the goal he had set out.

The fantastic irony is that as soon as this assailant walked into the Temple with a gun he transformed the moment of the Jewish people from a perceived identity of power, control, and invincibility to one of victimhood, limitation, and of helpless prey.

These two competing narratives have conflicted with each other on topics related to Israel and politics and leadership, but I do not recall a time they have been in such proximal juxtaposition.

3) Much of my day-to-day communal life is focused on petty and niggling infighting amongst other streams of Jews. Who can pray at the Western Wall, can I officiate at a wedding with a colleague of a different stripe, can we use this technology during Shabbat without offending visitors, this standard of kosher be acceptable for our congregation and other guests? The infighting and squabbling between the different streams of the Jewish world feel existential. They are not.

A terrorist chose to infiltrate a synagogue last week. He did not choose a library, hospital, or an Applebee’s restaurant. He targeted a Jewish place of worship.

What was inconsequential to this person was which movement he targeted. Whether Beth Israel was a Reform, Conservative, Orthodox, Reconstructionist, Modern Orthodox, or non-egalitarian place of worship had no consequence in his decision. And once the attack was announced and word spread, it did not matter to any Jew, either.

All places of worship knew without uttering a syllable, there but for the Grace of God…

All places of worship knew in that moment that whether Women of the Wall could read from a Torah scroll on Rosh Hodesh or if we waited one hour or six hours after eating meat or walked or drove to synagogue on holidays or livestreamed a service on Shabbat, did not matter one iota. We were bound by a greater DNA, a bigger title, and a deeper bond. Ironically, those links are forgotten in times of sunshine and are bright, visible, and tangible in times of darkness.

The ordeal of Colleyville has ended and the trauma for the survivors, the community, and the Jewish world is just beginning. I pray for the safety of those in the inner circle and those in the outmost rings, who were affected by this act of hatred.

May we all work hard to land on the proper side of the ironies that life presents.

Rabbi David-Seth Kirshner