This has been a monumental 24 hours, and I want to share my thoughts on what has transpired over the last day based on what I have seen, heard and read. 

While I hope we all would have greatly preferred to see a diplomatic solution to the conflict, the world is potentially a significantly safer place today than it was yesterday and Israel is potentially significantly safer than it was yesterday and for that I am grateful. Grateful to Israel for having taken the initiative to take significant steps in hopes of ridding the world of the threat of Iran’s possession of nuclear weapons, grateful to the Trump administration for the bold decision to attack the Iranian nuclear facilities and grateful to our military for the way in which the mission was carried out.

If the operation was as successful as the administration claims, President Trump deserves credit for this decision which stands to benefit not only Israel of course but the United States and the entire world.

Having said that, there are several issues which deeply concern me.  

First, there is so much uncertainty in the days, months and years ahead. We do not know how Iran will respond and whether these attacks have struck a permanent blow to that country’s nuclear program and ambitions. Time will tell whether the sense of increased safety many feel today will continue in the days to come. There are so many obstacles that remain and so much to fear.

Secondly, I share the concern that I have heard from some rabbinic colleagues and from others. In his speech last evening, President Trump said something very unusual. He said: “We love you, God”. It sounded like it was an ad-lib or a confusion of the phrase which followed: “God bless America”. But it raised a great concern. 

Earlier this week, the US ambassador to Israel, Mike Huckabee urged President Trump in a text to understand that while he is hearing many opinions “there is only one voice that matters: HIS voice” and that he believes “he (Trump) will hear from heaven”. 

I am deeply concerned with the language which seeks to portray presidential actions, especially those involving Israel, as divinely inspired or directed. This is a dangerous approach for so many reasons and one which should raise great concern. Our country’s approach to conflicts in the Middle East can not take on Messianic overtones.

Finally, even if in the end this attack should prove to have achieved all of its goals, this should not distract us from the fact that both leaders are leading their nations down very dangerous paths. 

Here at home, the Trump administration’s continued assault on the rights of individuals, tax laws which favor the rich, budget cuts which threaten so many needed programs, health policies which will take us back decades in disease prevention, attacks on immigrants and so many other issues demand our attention and our criticism. Attempts by the administration to use the support for the military action against Iran to solidify support for unjust and undemocratic policies must be met with strong opposition. 

And, while I dearly hope that if not now, then in the long run, Israelis will feel safer without the threat of nuclear attack from Iran, we can not ignore the other issues which demand attention. 

Israel’s military action in Gaza must come to an end. The innocent civilians in Gaza must receive the food and medical supplies they so desperately need. Negotiations to return the remaining hostages to Israel must take place. And Israel must reverse the current trend of increased oppression of the Palestinian population of the West Bank and take steps to ensure security and self-determination for both Israelis and Palestinians must take place. All of these will, I believe, bring more long-term security to Israel. 

I pray for peace for Israel for the civilians in Iran, Gaza and throughout the world.

Three years ago, our son and I traveled to Utah to visit two National Parks: Zion and Bryce Canyon. I was so moved by that trip that I promised my wife, Ellen, that we would take a similar trip and we did so last summer. I wrote about the experience of that first trip on my website blog in June, 2022 and spoke about it at length on my podcast.

This was not the first National Park trip our family had taken. We took our kids to Yellowstone and Grand Teton and also have visited several other parks including Yosemite and Denali. This summer, we are planning on spending a few days in Olympic National Park in Washington State. The National Parks are truly jewels and the administration’s threatened budgetary cuts are, to say the least, short-sighted and threaten the future of our nation’s commitment to these parklands.

But, this past week, I read of another decision by the Trump administration which has so deeply upset me and should concern all of us. The New York Times article concerning this decision reports: “The Interior Department plans to remove or cover up all “inappropriate content” at national parks and sites by Sept. 17 and is asking the park visitors to report any “negative” information about past or living Americans, according to internal documents.“

Many of the National Parks relate historical aspects of the parks and now these are subject to censorship if they are deemed to convey “inappropriate content” or if they say anything negative about an aspect of our nation’s history. And, visitors to the parks are invited to report anything they consider to be casting aspersions on any individual or aspect of our history.

This is consistent with the general approach of this administration which considers that we should not judge anything in this nation’s history as being negative. Criticism of policies or attitudes are to be muted. Whether the issue is racism or slavery or any other such matter, any suggestion that this country failed to live up to our stated values in the past is not only discouraged but, in certain situations, punished with loss of jobs or other ramifications.

Our nation is not perfect now and never has been. The United States has made serious errors as has every nation. We can not learn from those mistakes if we aren’t allowed to admit them. If we hide from our history because it may cast our past in a bad light, we are more likely to make those same mistakes again. By erasing the negatives of our past, we are inviting those negatives back into our society.

The beauty of the National Parks can not be denied. But, that is only one aspect of the beauty of this great country. Another is our nation’s ability to be more respectful of all, more inclusive and more compassionate. We have seen this administration’s determination to reverse so many of the efforts that have been taken to ensure this growth. This decision concerning the National Parks is not the most significant of those threats to our values as a nation but it is one that strikes me as particularly meaningful as we continue our plans to visit as many of the parks as we can. We see the parks as attesting to the beauty of our nation, a beauty which goes beyond mountains and waterfalls.

This is a tense time in the world and we woke this morning to the news of Israel’s attacks on the Iranian nuclear program. While I am deeply saddened that attempts to negotiate an agreement failed and while I fear for what the days ahead may bring, I support Israel’s actions in attempting to curtain Iran’s nuclear ability.

Every nation has the obligation to defend itself against those who threaten to destroy it and Israel is certainly no exception and Iran has presented a great threat to Israel. In the long term, Israel- and the world-will be a safer place if Iran is not able to manufacture nuclear weapons. But, in the short term, there is much uncertainty. I pray that the days and months to come will bring calm and safety for all in Israel, in the region and throughout the world and that we see a world in which future conflicts are settled only through diplomacy.

Today, we in the American Jewish community are observing two holy days.

Here in the United States, today is Memorial Day. Sadly, the fact that Memorial Day marks “the unofficial beginning of summer” has taken precedence over the reason for the establishment of the holiday.

Whatever our political and philosophical leanings may be, every one of us in this country owes a debt of gratitude and appreciation to those who gave their lives in military service to this country. Our continued existence as a free and democratic nation (God willing, we will continue to always be such) is due to the sacrifices made by American men and women in the many conflicts which have taken place here and throughout the world.

As one who never served in the military, I can not even imagine the courage that such service requires. Of course, we would be a much better world if it was not necessary. I dream of and pray for a day when no one, in any nation, should need to take up arms. But, those days have not come yet and while we all must continue to work for such a day, we must honor and pay tribute to those who, by their actions, ensured our continued safety as a nation.

May the memory of our brave soldiers be for a blessing. May we honor their memory with our actions and our prayers.

Today is also a special day on the Jewish calendar. It is Jerusalem Day, the anniversary of Israel’s conquest of the Old City of Jerusalem during the 6 day war in 1967. It is a day of celebration in the sense that, in contrast to the previous decades, Jews were now able to return to the holy sites in the Old City, including the Jewish Quarter and the Western Wall.

I had the privilege to live in Jerusalem for an academic year in 1979-1980. During that year, as have so many, I fell in love with the city and am deeply grateful to have had the opportunity to return 12 times since that year, often leading groups on tours of Israel. Every person that travelled with me could tell, I’m sure, that I viewed our days in Jerusalem as the most important part of the entire trip. Whether getting up early in the morning to lead sunrise walking tours or visiting synagogues on Shabbat or just bringing people to an overlook so that they could marvel at the beauty of the city, it was always the highlight of any experience I had in Israel.

Jerusalem has always represented a yearning for holiness and has been a place of dreams. For me, those dreams were not limited to Jews. On the contrary, the co-existence, even if at times tense, of different religious faiths in the city was an inspiration to me and hearing the sound of the davening at the kotel, the church bells from the Christian quarter and the muezzin call to prayer from the mosques always filled me with hope as Jerusalem reflected a vision of unity that represented a hope for the future.

So, I have always celebrated Jerusalem Day.

But, in recent years, that has become much more difficult for me and, I’m sure, for many others. Over the years, the public focus of Jerusalem Day has changed from being a day of hope and a celebration of holiness to a blatantly nationalistic observance with songs and chants reflecting hatred and calls for violence against Arabs in the city and beyond.

This year as in the recent past, participants in the so-called “March of the Flags” led by members of the Knesset, marched through the Arab neighborhoods of the Old City waving Israeli flags, chanting: “Death to Arabs” and other violent slogans in the face of the residents of the Moslem quarter. In addition, many went up to the Temple Mount to pray in minyanim, an act of provocation which used to be prohibited in deference to the agreement that was in effect to respect the sanctity of that area for Muslims.

This is not what Jerusalem should represent.

It is not the Jerusalem that I lived in and visited so many times and the Jerusalem that is in my heart..

But, this year it is even more painful to watch.

This year, as so many in the Israeli government (and sadly, so many Jews throughout the world) display barely any compassion or concern towards the innocent victims of the war in Gaza: the many thousands of children killed or facing starvation and so many whose homes and lives have been destroyed, these chants are even more disgusting. There is no question that the actions of Hamas on October 7 justified an Israeli military response against those who seek its destruction. But, as the months have gone on, the toll that Israel’s actions have taken on innocent residents of Gaza and on the remaining Israeli hostages is unspeakably tragic. And, seeing the pictures from Gaza and seeing the videos of the march in Jerusalem today leave me with such sadness as I consider where Israel is today.

Jerusalem Day should be a day of dreams, embracing the spirit of peace, not calling for continuing and intensifying violence and the nightmare of war and captivity.

May all people in the region find the power to continue to work for a “city of peace” in Jerusalem but for a region of peace and of life and security for all.

Those are the two words which have been echoing in my mind since I first heard of the act of violent terror which took the lives of Sarah Milgrim and Yaron Lischinsky in Washington DC last evening. There are no words which can adequately convey the sense of loss, of horror and of, quite frankly, fear that their murder has left me and so many others with.

I am a firm believer in free speech and have supported the right of people to protest against the government of Israel and the war in Gaza. I have added my voice to those within Israel and the Jewish community throughout the world who have been calling for an end to the attacks on civilians in Gaza and increased concern for the suffering of Palestinians in Gaza, especially children.

However, when those protesting call for violence, it can not longer be defended as free speech. When words call for the destruction of Israel, those words can not be merely ignored. And, when, as we saw last night, violent words turn to violent actions, horrible tragedy results and all of us are endangered.

We have been watching and speaking and writing about increased anti-Semitism in this nation and throughout the world and this horrendous act of terror brings that concern to a new level here in the United States.

I am waiting to hear those who are adamantly and passionately standing up for the rights of Palestinians reject and condemn this act of terror. I pray that this terrible tragedy will cause everyone, on all sides, to lower the volume, stand back from extremism and seek ways to direct their passion to constructive acts of humanity and peace.

May Sarah and Yaron’s memory be for a blessing.

I delivered this sermon in May, 2010. It connects the Torah portion, Bechukotai, to the death of a well known individual that had occurred earlier that week. I am posting it this week as we prepare to read Parashat Bechukotai this coming Shabbat.

Those of us who are fortunate enough to engage in professions which involve an endeavor about which we are passionate, often have, in our imagination, another profession that reflects one of our other interests. I certainly do. In that parallel universe of our imagination, I am a baseball radio announcer. 

My station has only an audience of one (unless one of my kids or one of our animals comes into the room where I am watching a game) but that doesn’t matter. I can’t watch a game without broadcasting it. 

If you’re a baseball fan, especially if you remember baseball on the radio,  it’s hard to think of the great plays of baseball history without hearing the voice of the announcer who made the play come alive. When you think of Bobby Thompson’s home run, you hear Russ Hodges screaming: “The Giants win the Pennant.” When you see a  tape of Kirk Gibson’s home run in the 1988 World Series, you can always hear Vin Scully exclaiming: “She is gone!” or Jack Buck saying; “I can’t believe what I just saw”. L’havdeel, to make a separation, the great baseball calls are like the Trop of the Torah reading, the chanting which accompanies the text.

The trop makes the Torah come alive and becomes the sound which we associate with the text. Let me give one clear example. As the Torah introduces the character of Noah and seeks to separate him from his evil generation, the reader chants one word with the slow, dramatic and majestic note called Zakef Gadol: V’NOACH matza hayn, And NOAH found favor in the eyes of God. It is not enough to read that line. If you are a Torah reader or familiar with Torah cantillation, you have to hear the line in your head as you read it. 

We lost a great baseball announcer this week. I don’t have a personal nostalgic connection to Ernie Harwell but for those who do, his was the voice of their youth who brought the Detroit Tigers games to life with his own interpretive twist. Even those of us who don’t share that experience know that he was so very, very good at his craft. And, he was more than an announcer, he was the voice of a city, and a region, often struggling with adversity. He believed in Detroit and in Michigan and he went to bat for the city and the state time and time again. In every aspect of his life, he urged us not to live life like the batter who took a third strike, namely by “standing there like the house by the side of the road” but to embrace life to the fullest. He lived a full life before his death at age 92. 

Ernie Harwell’s voice will continue to echo as will his written words including this thought which will help elucidate a point from today’s Torah portion. Harwell wrote: “Baseball is continuity. Pitch to pitch. Inning to inning. Game to game. Series to series. Season to season.”

“Season to Season”. When I was a kid, there were really only two seasons: “baseball season” and “not baseball season”. And, in fact, it could be said about these seasons that “never the twain shall meet”. For until the first pitch was thrown on Opening Day, there was very little to talk about baseball-wise. Yes, there were baseball cards that came out in March and news of a stray trade or signing during the winter but, in general, from the end of the world series until that first cold day in April when they opened up the ball park for the first time, there wasn’t much in the way of baseball. What there was was anticipation. 

Now it’s different. Now, the MLB network shows classic and not so classic games in January, the Free Agent Market gets hot in December and exhibition games are shown throughout the end of February and March. Yes, there is now only one season. And while baseball fans like me might like it that way, we are definitely missing something. 

We are missing the recognition of the change of seasons. 

It was in that different world of 30 or 40 years ago that one Ernie Harwell tradition had great meaning. He would begin each season’s opening broadcast by reading a verse from Shir HaShirim, the Song of Songs: “For lo the winter has passed, the rains are gone and the sound of the turtle dove is heard in our land”. In Ernie Harwell’s context, it meant that the off season had passed and the new season begun. 

The winter rains are gone. It is not their season. It was time for baseball and summer at last.

Parshat Behukotai features an idea which is found again and again throughout the Torah.  The idea is that rain is a symbol of blessing from God. For an agricultural people, nothing else would be expected. But, the Torah always qualifies the promise of rain by saying that the blessing comes in the form of “rain in its season”. 

This makes perfect sense for Israel and any part of the world where the seasons are distinct much like the baseball world I grew up in. In Israel, there is  a rainy season and a dry season. A drought in the rainy season or rain in the dry season is a catastrophe and was always interpreted as a punishment from God for failure to observe the covenant. Thus, it was not enough to promise rain, the rain had to be promised “in its season” for it to be a blessing.

In Behukotai, we read: “v’natati gishmeychem b’itam”, I will give your rain in its season. But, as our people spread throughout the world into different types of climate, it became more difficult to interpret this phrase since it is meaningless to those where rain would fall throughout the year. How, might we understand the promise of “rain in its season” in our personal lives if each season brings rain?

Let me share with you one commentary on this phrase. The “rain in its season” was interpreted to mean, “I will bring rain when it is most convenient”. The commentary teaches that if you observe the commandments, it will only rain at a time when you are planning to be home anyway, namely, according to this teaching, on Friday night. Where else is a person but at home at the Shabbat table on Friday night? So, let it rain all it wants. That is, said this commentary, the meaning of rain in its season: rain when it will have the least negative impact.

I find this to be a charming and insightful commentary because of a subtlety that I find most meaningful. The commentary is not saying that God will make it rain so that you want to stay home on Friday night and while you’re at home you might as well have a nice Shabbat dinner. The world doesn’t work that way. The outside world doesn’t always make it easy for us to fulfill our obligations. We have to make the decision of how to observe time in the world and this verse says that once we have established such a routine, we will find less opposition from the outside world, in fact we’ll find somehow the world will make it easier for us to continue to observe.

Even this, of course, is not the reality. No matter how much we might value and hallow our routine, the world isn’t always sensitive to it and sometimes we face challenges and sometimes, inevitably, we find ourselves compromising. But, the principle still holds that we must establish our routines in a world which wants to see one day just like the other, in a world which is not divided so clearly into seasons. We must somehow carve out for ourselves meaning in such a world. 

This is one of the gifts that Judaism provides for us. Each day is not like the rest. There is anticipation, each week towards Shabbat, each year towards Rosh Hashana, counting the days of the Omer leading up to Shavuot. Our Jewish calendar has happy times and sad times, seasons with many holidays, seasons with no holidays. There is no attempt to make each day like the one before. Instead, we talk about the seasons as if they really mean something, even if meteorologically the differences aren’t as stark as they are in Israel.

Kohelet teachers: there is a time for everything under the sun: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to rejoice and a time to weep. Our lives aren’t divided as evenly as Kohelet suggests. But, it is refreshing to think about seasons as if they actually do exist. 

Our Jewish calendar and our observances allow us to recapture a sense of a year divided into seasons, something which in so many ways more than baseball, we have lost the desire to embrace. We adapt the weather to make our lives comfortable inside. We work through the summer as if to take a break would be to intrude on our professional lives.

We have to break out of this passion to blur the seasons. If in no other way than by sitting down at the Shabbat table each Friday evening, regardless of the weather, we are hearkening back to a time when everything had its place and we felt that each day and each time was distinctly different and each day held its own unique promise.   

Thus, we can put, our own personal commentary on the way the world works and become accustomed to seeing the playing fields of our lives through the voice that tells us that each day is unique.  

A few months after Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergolio was introduced to the world as Pope Francis, I spoke about him during a sermon. I admitted that I had become fascinated with him as a religious leader and, in fact, was a big fan.

There were times over the years of his papacy when I was less impressed, feeling that he had not gone far enough to work for the changes he seemed to advocate within the church. Then there were rare occasions when I felt his words or actions were misguided (even taking into account our obvious differences in theology). But, as I look back on his years as Pope, I find myself still a big fan, still very respectful of a man who reflected what religious leaders should be.

As I wrote on my Facebook page on the day of his death: “His kindness and gentle way and his concern for and commitment to those who are often forgotten or disparaged in this world were evident always. In this way, he set an example for all who seek positions of leadership. He will be sorely missed in a world which needs more kindness and empathy.”

He was such a gentle man but in his gentle nature lied a strength which touched so many people in the world. His dedication to those in need, to those who felt excluded was exemplary. The many photos and videos of his love and respect for children demonstrates the kind of man he was. And, his attempts to move the Church forward in becoming inclusive and respectful of all resonated with millions of people throughout the world, including many non-Catholics.

It is not, of course, my place to comment on internal matters of the Catholic Church. But, I hope that the Church will choose a new Pope who will continue to stress the values that Pope Francis taught and reflect the values which were the cornerstone of his Papacy.

May his memory be for a blessing.

         One of the most beloved customs of the Seder is closing the evening by singing several songs which have become synonymous with the Seder. Chad Gadya, Adir Hu and, of course, Echad Mi Yodea, “Who knows One”?

         Found in Haggadot dating back to the 15^th century and a staple in most contemporary haggadot, Echad Mi Yodea is a “counting song” enumerating from 1 to 13 aspects of Jewish tradition which correspond to those numbers. The song is not specifically related to Pesach but has found its way into the Seder as a way of keeping children entertained and interested in the rituals of the holiday.  

         The fact that Echad Mi Yodea is particularly directed at the children should cause us to re-think the song’s place in the Seder. The prospect of singing the song with a lively melody and with, at some Seder tables, humorous hand motions associated with each of the phrases, might be enough to maintain kids presence at the table throughout the lengthy Seder ritual. But, if you want the children to enjoy the song, perhaps it is more appropriate to sing it in the middle of the Seder. I might suggest singing it right after the meal to inject some energy into sleepy children and to ensure that those who can’t stay up until the end of the Seder will have had their chance to sing the fun song. You might even want to consider interrupting the flow of the Seder by splitting the song up and singing one “number” at a time throughout the evening.  

         But however you sing it, I am convinced that the song isn’t just fun. In fact, I have come to believe that Echad Mi Yodea is profoundly meaningful. 

         Let’s look at the 13 answers to the song’s questions: 

         Who knows one? I know one. One is our God of heaven and earth.

         2 … the Tablets of the Covenant at Sinai.

         3 … the Patriarchs: Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.

         4 … the Matriarchs: Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah.

         5 … the books of the Torah.

         6 … the sections of the Mishna (the first code of Rabbinic Law).

         7 … the days of the week leading to Shabbat

         8 … eight days until brit milah (ritual circumcision). 

         9 … the months of pregnancy.

         10 … the Ten Commandments.

         11 … the Stars in Joseph’s dream (identified with Joseph’s brothers, Jacob’s sons).

         12… the Tribes of Israel. (named for Jacob’s children and two grandchildren)

         13… the attributes of God (from Exodus chapter 34)

         Now, let’s divide the 13 into pairs (Even though 13 is an odd number, it still works as you will see.) Each of the pairs contain two aspects which are directly connected with each other.

         1-2 God is creator of heaven and earth and also is the giver of Torah at Sinai through the process of revelation.

         3-4 The Patriarchs and the Matriarchs

         5-6 The Mishna explains and expands the meaning of the laws in the Torah.

         7-8 Both Shabbat and Brit Milah are referred to in the Torah as an “ot”, a “sign” of the covenant.

         9-10 Both concern parenting. The 5^th of the 10 commandments is: Honor Your Father and Mother.

         11-12 Both enumerate the descendants of Jacob. 

         13 doesn’t have a pair. It can, however, be paired with #1 as an expansion of the concept of God, leading us back to the beginning and transforming the song into a continuous, never-ending circle. 

         So, I see the song as intricately written to show how different elements of our faith are connected to each other. 

         But the significance doesn’t stop there. Seen together, the subjects of these pairs, comprise a brilliant summary of the foundations of our faith. In addition, each of these factors of Judaism is clearly reflected in the Seder. 

         1-2 (and 13) God…The Seder is an evening in which we sit comfortably, reclining in the presence of God with an awareness of the importance of that relationship, historically at the Exodus and in our lives today.

         3-4 The Patriarchs and Matriarchs: Personal Identification with our History…We sit at the Seder cognizant of the roles of mothers and fathers throughout the ages. We think of all the parents and teachers who have taught their children and students about the Exodus throughout the ages and, for many of us, we recall our own parents and grandparents who sat with us at Seder Tables and whose presence we still feel around the table today as we share our stories and family traditions. And, we during the Seder we focus on the verses from Deuteronomy beginning with the phrase: “My father was a wandering Aramean.”

         5-6 Torah and Mishna: Learning as a Priority. Our tradition values the wisdom of the ancient texts as we seek to make them meaningful in today’s world. The ancient tradition of basing the Maggid, the storytelling section of the Seder, on midrashim, textual commentaries, on the verses from Deuteronomy beginning with “My father was a wandering Aramean” teaches us that even in the midst of the most complex ritual of the year, we take significant time to study. Torah study is a ritual in and of itself.

         7-8 Shabbat and Brit Milah: Ritual… The observance of Shabbat and the rituals of circumcision, naming ceremonies, Jewish weddings and so many others form the roadmap of our lives as Jews. And no ritual is as complex and beloved as the Pesach seder. 

9-10 Parenthood and the 10 Commandments: Living an ethical life…The responsibility to teach our children and our students to embrace the ethics found not only in the 10 commandments but in all the commandments of the Torah and guidelines our tradition has taught over the centuries is a solemn obligation. At Pesach we consider the horrors of slavery and our commitment to care for the stranger and free the oppressed of all who suffer degradation or persecution. Our rituals and traditions are meaningless unless we are committed to these and so many other moral and ethical teachings as the basis of our lives.

11-12 The children and grandchildren of Jacob: Our People and the Land of Israel… We are reminded of the critical importance of connecting with our people wherever they are as we sit at our individual Seders knowing that Jews throughout the world are doing the same. We renew our commitment to work to free those who can not observe the Seder and commit ourselves to concern for the well-being of our people everywhere. And we are reminded once again that the promise of redemption is tied, physically or conceptually, to the importance of the land of Israel in our lives as Jews. 

So, the song enumerates the foundational aspects of our lives as Jews: God, History, Learning, Ritual, Ethics, Peoplehood.

This simple song reminds us of what brings us together on the Seder nights and I urge you to ask yourself this question: Each of these values are critical but which of these are most important to you as you sit at the Seder this year? They all are important and indispensable as we consider our connection with our people and our faith. But which one or two are paramount to you this year? Is this year’s answer the same as you might have answered last year?

Echad Mi Yodea is such a fun song. So, sing it with joy. But realize how significant it is to be sung on a night on which so much of what we believe and practice as Jews comes to light in just a few hours.

I wish you a meaningful and memorable holiday.

We enter into this Shabbat with the horrible images seared into our hearts and minds.

Through all the many months of suffering in Israel and in Gaza, the return of the two young children, murdered in the most brutal fashion has raised our heartbreak to an even greater level.

The sight of crowds in Gaza celebrating the coffins of Kfir and Ariel Bibas in the most grotesque way reflects an evil depravity that should shock and disgust every human being in this world.

The final insult of substituting a corpse and not allowing these young boys to be accompanied home by their mother brings the depths to which the leaders of Hamas and their followers have descended.

It is reasonable and justified to ask serious questions about the war in Gaza and how it has been conducted as I myself have done. But, these questions can only be asked with the acknowledgement of the reality of the cruelty visited not only on these two little boys but on so many Israelis who were brutalized on October 7 and after.

May their memory, and the memory of their mother, Shiri, and all of those who died in captivity be for a blessing and, as this week’s Torah portion of Mishpatim commands us, may we continue the sacred search for peace and justice in a world which needs this message more than ever before.

It’s a cloudy, icy day today here in Ann Arbor, Michigan. It’s a typical winter day, the likes of which we’ve seen frequently over the past few weeks.

But hope is on the horizon. 

Spring training starts next week. Baseball season is coming!

This week’s edition of my podcast, Wrestling and Dreaming: Engaging Discussions on Judaism features a d’var Torah based on this week’s Torah portion of Beshallach. The d’var Torah begins on the baseball diamond. You can hear the podcast at wrestlinganddreaming.podbean.com but, for those of you who prefer the written word, here is a summary of the piece entitled “Two Sticks”.

On October 2, 1978, my beloved Boston Red Sox played their arch-rivals New York Yankees in a one game playoff to determine the winner of the American League Eastern Division. The teams had ended the season tied for first place. 

The game was played at Fenway Park in Boston and the Red Sox were leading 2-0 in the top of the 7^th inning. There were two outs and two on base for the Yankees when the Yankee shortstop Bucky Dent came up to bat. Dent was a light hitting shortstop and it’s fair to assume that most Yankee fans would have preferred to see one of their power hitters come to the plate in the most critical moment. 

But much to the eternal chagrin of Red Sox fans, Bucky Dent hit a 3 run homerun that put the Yankees ahead to stay in a game which ended with a 5-4 Yankee victory.

By virtue of his homerun, he earned a new middle name (at least according to Red Sox fans). He will forever be known as Bucky “bleeping” Dent. 

As much as I cried that day and refused to even mention that man’s name for many years, I have to say that I have begun to realize in Bucky Dent’s homerun, a reflection of a beautiful statement in Pirke Avot, Ethics of the Fathers, attributed to the rabbi Ben Azai. Ben Azai taught: “Do not denigrate any person for there is no person that does not have their hour.”

That was Bucky Dent’s hour and he surely took advantage of it.

In this week’s Torah portion, we read that Moses has led the people to the edge of the sea. The sea is in front of them, the Egyptian army is closing in. According to the Torah, God calls to Moses: “Mah Titzak Elay”. Why are you crying out to me?

There is no reference in the Torah to Moses’ cry to God and many rabbis taught that the cry, one apparently of desperation, was omitted in deference to Moses’ reputation as a great leader.

But, according to the Midrash, God says to Moses: “Why are you crying out in a lengthy plea to me? The hour waits only for you.” In other words, everything is ready for a miracle and the only thing lacking is you doing your job. God tells Moses to take his stick and hit the water. Moses does so and the water splits.

So, if according to Pirke Avot, each of us has our “hour”, the hour is wasted unless we realize it and play our role to the best of our abilities.

We all have our “hours”. We all experience times when we can play a critical role. Sometimes these are small roles, sometimes great roles. But, in each of our lives, there are moments when we can do what no one else can do. Perhaps we are the only person around to help someone. Perhaps we alone have a skill or a talent which is needed at that very moment. The only issue is: Will we take advantage of the hour to do our part to change the life of another person or of the entire world for the better?

While I do love baseball, obviously I would not put Bucky Dent’s homerun on the level of Moses’ splitting the sea. But the fact that both meet their hour with a stick of wood reminds us that in small ways in big ways, we can use our hour to “split the seas” in front of us and change the world. 

May we all recognize the power of our “hour” and may we be privileged to look back on our lives and identify those “hours” in which we met the challenge of the moment.