I delivered this d’var Torah on this week’s parashah of Hayei Sarah, without the final paragraph, twenty years ago. I found it in my files recently t and I realized how significant the topic is to me and I hope to others as well.

We all know that Jewish tradition loves to debate the meaning of verses from the Torah. Even verses which appear simple and straightforward are open to multiple interpretations and our texts are full of discussions among Rabbis as to which interpretation of a certain Torah verse is correct.

But, what is not as well known is the fact that the interpretations themselves often become the subject of great discussions. There are many interpretations which are as well known as the verses that inspired them and Rabbis endeavor to debate and discuss these interpretations as sacred texts in and of themselves.

A perfect example of this can be found when studying this week’s Torah portion. In the first verse we read of the death of Sarah and the Torah says that the years of Sarah’s life were one hundred years and twenty years and seven years.

So, naturally the Rabbis have to ask why the word year appears three times, when one mention of the word years would have been sufficient.

In reality, the language is not odd for the Torah. In fact, we read the same expression about Ishmael. He lived one hundred years and thirty years and seven years. 

But the Rabbis still wonder whether we can learn anything from the rather clumsy construction of language concerning Sarah.

There is a beautiful Midrash on this question which has become the standard interpretation for this verse which is that the Torah expresses the idea of Sarah’s age in this way to connect different periods of her life. The commentary teaches that regarding beauty, Sarah was the same at age 20 as at age 7 and regarding sin, she was the same at age 100 as she was at 20. 

This is a very well known commentary found in many sources in the tradition but it is not accepted at face value. The Rabbis of the tradition start dissecting it and debating it as if it were Torah itself. 

The first question that they ask is why is beauty mentioned at all? After all, don’t we teach in Eshet Hayil, the beloved section of Proverbs describing the Woman of Valor, that beauty is vain and is meaningless? Why highlight it here? 

One creative answer to this is that the point about Sarah being the same at 20 as at 7 regarding beauty is offered by Rabbi Yehoshua of Kutna. He points out that just as at age 7 Sarah didn’t have any awareness of or concern for her own beauty, she didn’t at age 20 either. She never paid attention to the beauty she possessed and the message of the commentary is that none of us should ever be concerned about physical beauty.

Another Rabbi actually offers a proof of this. If you were to look at the Torah scroll, you would notice that there is a letter in this section of the Torah which is smaller than any of the others. When Abraham comes to mourn Sarah, the Torah says that he came livkotah, to cry over her. The letter kaf in livkotah is smaller than the rest of the letters. This Rabbi reminds us that kaf in gematria, the numerical system attached to the letters is 20. This, says the Rabbi, proves that Sarah minimized the aspect of her life most prominent at 20, namely her beauty. 

But, other Rabbis add another piece to the entire discussion. They question whether in fact the original commentary has been in fact misquoted.

Rashi, for example, states the commentary should be stated in the opposite way. Sarah was the same regarding sin at age 20 as she was at 7 and the same regarding beauty at age 100 as she was at 20. 

This is more satisfactory to some commentators for two reasons. First, it would seem that describing an individual as beautiful would be more appropriate for a 20 year old than for a 7 year old. Thus, stressing her beauty at ages 20 and 100 is more reasonable. 

Secondly, perhaps, and this is my personal commentary, pointing out that a person was able to navigate the adolescent years between 7 and 20 and come out of them as innocent as she or he was at age 7 is a remarkable accomplishment, at least one which is important to note. 

But reading the commentary this way, we encounter the issue of whether this means she was not as free from sin at age 100 as she was at 20 and that might be problematic. 

The conclusion is that both approaches to this midrash are not completely satisfying .But, it is at this point that a beautiful commentary on the commentary on the Torah verse helps us to understand a wise, critical lesson.

In a collection of texts called May’anah shel Torah, a rabbi teaches that with advanced age comes several notable characteristics: experience, wisdom, calmness of demeanor among others while with youth comes other notable characteristics: passion, strength, seemingly boundless energy. Thus the commentary teaches us that in Sarah, those qualities, both of youth and of advanced age were mixed together as one. When she was 20, she was already blessed with the characteristics one would associate with an older person, and at 100, she had not lost the characteristics identified with youth. 

I find this be a beautiful commentary on the commentary and a beautiful teaching for us all. 

When Pharaoh responds to Moses’ demand to allow the Hebrews to leave Egypt, Pharaoah says: Mi va mi haholchim: Who is going to go? And Moses says biziknaynu ubinuraynu nelech, we will go with our old and our young. 

Of course, Moses meant that everyone was going to leave Egypt together but he also might have meant that we will leave Egypt with all of the characteristics necessary for such a journey, passion and experience, energy and patience.

Whether we are talking about our own lives, the lives of an institution, certainly a synagogue being an example, or the lives of a nation, it is critical that both types of characteristics be honored, embraced and displayed. We must find the passion, excitement and energy we had when we were younger and not lose sight of the wisdom, experience and maturity we have gained along the way. 

Last year, I came across a quotation from the ancient Roman author Cicero. I love the quotation and taped it to my office desk at home. It serves as a great postscript to this d’var Torah: “As I approve of a youth that has something of the old man in him, so I am no less pleased with an old man that has something of the youth. He that follows this rule may be old in body, but can never be so in mind.“

Cicero was one wise man.

I delivered this d’var Torah on this week’s parashah of Hayei Sarah, without the final paragraph twenty years ago. I found it in my files recently t and I realized how significant the topic is to me and I hope to others as well.

We all know that Jewish tradition loves to debate the meaning of verses from the Torah. Even verses which appear simple and straightforward are open to multiple interpretations and our texts are full of discussions among Rabbis as to which interpretation of a certain Torah verse is correct.

But, what is not as well known is the fact that the interpretations themselves often become the subject of great discussions. There are many interpretations which are as well known as the verses that inspired them and Rabbis endeavor to debate and discuss these interpretations as sacred texts in and of themselves.

A perfect example of this can be found when studying this week’s Torah portion. In the first verse we read of the death of Sarah and the Torah says that the years of Sarah’s life were one hundred years and twenty years and seven years.

So, naturally the Rabbis have to ask why the word year appears three times, when one mention of the word years would have been sufficient.

In reality, the language is not odd for the Torah. In fact, we read the same expression about Ishmael. He lived one hundred years and thirty years and seven years. 

But the Rabbis still wonder whether we can learn anything from the rather clumsy construction of language concerning Sarah.

There is a beautiful Midrash on this question which has become the standard interpretation for this verse which is that the Torah expresses the idea of Sarah’s age in this way to connect different periods of her life. The commentary teaches that regarding beauty, Sarah was the same at age 20 as at age 7 and regarding sin, she was the same at age 100 as she was at 20. 

This is a very well known commentary found in many sources in the tradition but it is not accepted at face value. The Rabbis of the tradition start dissecting it and debating it as if it were Torah itself. 

The first question that they ask is why is beauty mentioned at all? After all, don’t we teach in Eshet Hayil, the beloved section of Proverbs describing the Woman of Valor, that beauty is vain and is meaningless? Why highlight it here? 

One creative answer to this is that the point about Sarah being the same at 20 as at 7 regarding beauty is offered by Rabbi Yehoshua of Kutna. He points out that just as at age 7 Sarah didn’t have any awareness of or concern for her own beauty, she didn’t at age 20 either. She never paid attention to the beauty she possessed and the message of the commentary is that none of us should ever be concerned about physical beauty.

Another Rabbi actually offers a proof of this. If you were to look at the Torah scroll, you would notice that there is a letter in this section of the Torah which is smaller than any of the others. When Abraham comes to mourn Sarah, the Torah says that he came livkotah, to cry over her. The letter kaf in livkotah is smaller than the rest of the letters. This Rabbi reminds us that kaf in gematria, the numerical system attached to the letters is 20. This, says the Rabbi, proves that Sarah minimized the aspect of her life most prominent at 20, namely her beauty. 

But, other Rabbis add another piece to the entire discussion. They question whether in fact the original commentary has been in fact misquoted.

Rashi, for example, states the commentary should be stated in the opposite way. Sarah was the same regarding sin at age 20 as she was at 7 and the same regarding beauty at age 100 as she was at 20. 

This is more satisfactory to some commentators for two reasons. First, it would seem that describing an individual as beautiful would be more appropriate for a 20 year old than for a 7 year old. Thus, stressing her beauty at ages 20 and 100 is more reasonable. 

Secondly, perhaps, and this is my personal commentary, pointing out that a person was able to navigate the adolescent years between 7 and 20 and come out of them as innocent as she or he was at age 7 is a remarkable accomplishment, at least one which is important to note. 

But reading the commentary this way, we encounter the issue of whether this means she was not as free from sin at age 100 as she was at 20 and that might be problematic. 

The conclusion is that both approaches to this midrash are not completely satisfying .But, it is at this point that a beautiful commentary on the commentary on the Torah verse helps us to understand a wise, critical lesson.

In a collection of texts called May’anah shel Torah, a rabbi teaches that with advanced age comes several notable characteristics: experience, wisdom, calmness of demeanor among others while with youth comes other notable characteristics: passion, strength, seemingly boundless energy. Thus the commentary teaches us that in Sarah, those qualities, both of youth and of advanced age were mixed together as one. When she was 20, she was already blessed with the characteristics one would associate with an older person, and at 100, she had not lost the characteristics identified with youth. 

I find this be a beautiful commentary on the commentary and a beautiful teaching for us all. 

When Pharaoh responds to Moses’ demand to allow the Hebrews to leave Egypt, Pharaoah says: Mi va mi haholchim: Who is going to go? And Moses says biziknaynu ubinuraynu nelech, we will go with our old and our young. 

Of course, Moses meant that everyone was going to leave Egypt together but he also might have meant that we will leave Egypt with all of the characteristics necessary for such a journey, passion and experience, energy and patience.

Whether we are talking about our own lives, the lives of an institution, certainly a synagogue being an example, or the lives of a nation, it is critical that both types of characteristics be honored, embraced and displayed. We must find the passion, excitement and energy we had when we were younger and not lose sight of the wisdom, experience and maturity we have gained along the way. 

Last year, I came across a quotation from the ancient Roman author Cicero. I love the quotation and taped it to my office desk at home. It serves as a great postscript to this d’var Torah: “As I approve of a youth that has something of the old man in him, so I am no less pleased with an old man that has something of the youth. He that follows this rule may be old in body, but can never be so in mind.“

Cicero was one wise man.

There are many famous and not so famous quotations that have moved me over the years. But, every so often, I come across a quotation which moves me so deeply that I regret that I had not heard it many years before. It would have fit so nicely into sermons and articles I have written. I don’t know I missed it.

This morning, I was preparing for a class that I am going to teach and came across a reference to the statement implied by the Talmud that one of the questions we will be asked at the final judgment after our physical death will be: “Did you take advantage of the pleasures that were permitted to you during your life?”

I’ve heard that idea and taught it so many times and I also know that the Talmud never specifically says this. So, I decided to do a bit of research to see what the actual statement is in the Talmud and, at least according to one online source, it is derived from a statement in the Jerusalem Talmud attributed to the Rabbi referred to as Rav that God would judge us for all that our eyes saw and didn’t eat.

So, God’s question about permitted pleasures is only implied. Still, it makes an important statement about the responsibility that we have to live our physical lives to the fullest within the limitations that our ethics and our traditions place upon us.

I made a note of the actual quotation but before I closed that webpage, I noticed a reply from one of the readers that included a story which I found so moving that I wondered how I had missed it over so many years.

The story is told about Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, the 19th century Rabbi who was, in many ways, the inspiration behind contemporary Orthodox Judaism. Late in life, he made a trip to Switzerland and when asked why, he replied: “Soon, I will stand before the Almighty. I will be held answerable to many questions. But, what will I say when I am asked, ‘Shimson, my son, it is true you did many mitzvot, but did you see My Alps?”

Did you see my Alps? Such a simple question. But, one with tremendous implications.

I have not seen the Alps except from an airplane, which I suppose counts to some degree, but I have had the privilege and taken the time to see many, many other places in this world which reflect the beauty and splendor of God’s creation and I have always found those to be moments of deep, spiritual meaning. In so many ways, these moments complement my observance of our spiritual ritual traditions and the study of Torah. From the New England coastline to Bryce Canyon to Denali to the Sinai Peninsula and so many places in between, they have played such an important part in my personal theology. They speak to me of God’s presence and remind me of our responsibility to appreciate and respect the beauty of the world around us and the sanctity of life.

How sad it is that some see religious inspiration from books or religious rituals alone. How important it is that we realize, appreciate and experience the beauty and grandeur that surrounds us.

Have you seen my Alps?

I wish I had read that story many years ago. I have always felt it but to see it put into words in this way was, in many ways, are a revelation.

Each year on the fast day of Tisha B’av, we read the book of Eicha, the book of Lamentations. The book describes, in extremely graphic terms, the horrors which followed the destruction of the 1st Temple. We read of the agony of death, of hunger and thirst, of a complete lack of hope in the wake of the loss of the Temple and the city of Jerusalem.

It is impossible to read these words without thinking of the tragedies that have happened to our people through the centuries. We think of our ancestors who suffered at the hands of ruthless, hate-filled enemies. We think of those individuals and communities destroyed during the holocaust. And, we most certainly remember the tragedy of October 7, 2023, the horrific attack in which Hamas terrorists took the lives of so many in Israel and took hostages, some of whom are still imprisoned almost two years later.

We can not forget them or those who came before.

But, when we read the descriptions in the book of Eicha, we also can not ignore another fact: the devastation, the pain, the hunger which is rampant in Gaza. We must confront the reality of the pain of innocent people, particularly children, who are suffering as a result of a war which has gone on for almost two years. While it is absolutely true that the war began in the wake of Hamas’ horrible terrorist attacks of October 7 and while it is also true that Hamas could do so much more to feed and care for those who are in despair in Gaza, it is also true that Israel could do much more to help to alleviate the suffering of innocent individuals by increasing the amount of food and medicine going into Gaza.

So many of of our teachers have taught us the danger of indifference, of placing blame on others and absolving ourselves of the responsibility of action. So, whatever one believes about how responsible Israel is for the suffering of the children , it can not be denied that our tradition demands that we not turn our eyes away, Israel must help these victims of war.

I believe Israel was absolutely justified in waging this war but it has gone on far, far too long. It is time to take all steps to bring the hostages home, to end this war so that the Israeli solders can come home in peace and the children in Gaza will begin to see an end to their suffering. I pray that that day will come soon.

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.