Our kids just returned from a few days at the beach. They were full of excitement as they told us all about their adventures. The little ones became seashell scavengers and brought back some beauties. They loved walking together in the sand collecting shells and making family memories. 

This week’s Torah portion is Bo, which means “come”. 

Gd commands Moses to go to Pharaoh to warn him about the upcoming 8th plague. 

Bo/come however does not seem to be the right word. Instead it perhaps should have said “lech/go”. 

Bo is word that connotes journeying together. 

Gd is telling Moses to come. They will go together on this expedition. 

Moses will not be left alone to carry the burden. 

Bo is a comforting word. 

Gd does not leave us alone to fend for ourselves. 

Hashem/Gd is real. 

He wants a relationship with us. 

This is in juxtaposition to Pharaoh who thinks he is a gd, but certainly doesn’t behave like one who cares very much. 

The plagues are bracketed by his selfish behavior. 

In the first plague of Blood, all the water in Egypt turned to blood.  The whole country was in a state of upheaval. In the midst of it all the verse tells us

“Pharaoh turned away and came to his palace”. 

Due to a merit Pharoah had accrued, he actually had water to drink, so instead of feeling the pain of his people, he just turned his back on them and closed the door. 

Nine plagues have elapsed. 

The last one, the death of the firstborn is beginning. Once again the country is in a turmoil. The screaming is unbearable as death visits every home. 

Finally Pharaoh is moved to action. He wakes up frantically in the middle of the night and literally begs the Jews to leave. 

This week’s Torah portion is host to the cataclysmic events of the ten plagues. These plagues turn nature on its head and are designed to make clear that Gd is the Creator of the world and is capable of creating phenomena beyond human comprehension. 

While the plagues were a one time phenom of that particular time and place, the narrative and events are embedded with lessons for eternity. 

We would expect that this sound and light show of the miraculous events which are unfolding would be preceded by some meaningful “drumroll” to tee up the coming attractions. 

Instead, the Torah portion Va’Eira precedes the unfolding miracles with yet another listing of the children of Jacob. 

Again?

We have been regaled multiple times with the roster of the family of Jacob. Why is it necessary to repeat it again?

Our Sages teach us that the miracles of the plagues are to be facilitated by our leaders, Moses and Aaron, and it’s important to know where they come from, because their leadership comes from their upbringing. 

The troika of leaders in Egypt, through the Exodus and during the desert sojourn, are siblings. Moses, Aaron and Miriam have the common denominator of leadership which stems from compassion. They do not lord it over the people, but firmly embed themselves in the midst of the nation, doling out compassion and loving support all the while. 

This is in stark juxtaposition to Pharoah, who incites terror, fear and wreaks all manner of destruction. 

The title of the book is Names, Shmot, but while we are introduced to the protagonists who lead with kindness and compassion, Pharaoh is actually anonymous. 

We never know his real name. 

Pharaoh is an appellation, like King or Prime Minister. 

He is not worthy of honorable mention. 

So let’s dive into the first plague  of Blood. 

Sivan Rahav Meir, popular Israeli correspondent and Torah educator, recently reported that a group of construction workers who were clearing debris at a building site came upon a startling find. They discovered a cache of artifacts that had been buried and wrapped in newspaper dated from 1939. Most of the items found were Judaica, as well as household objects of value. It seems that some of the denizens of Łódź Poland  had buried precious items hoping to protect them for the duration of the war. Tragically, no one survived World War II to reclaim their belongings. 

Sivan posted a photo of the retrieved items which had been carefully placed on a table for display. I looked at the picture and saw the expected items of Menorahs and Kiddush cups as well as some household items such as cutlery. Upon closer inspection of the photograph, I was amazed to recognize a style of spoons which were identical to those that belonged to my own grandmother. She had brought her cutlery with her when she escaped Germany. I grew up seeing those spoons on my grandparents table. When we cleaned out her apartment after her passing, I kept one of those spoons as a memento of my grandparents and the miracle of their survival. 

This is but another touch of the long arm of the Holocaust. 

I was shaken to the core as I was once again reminded of how close this devastating event is to me personally, and how grateful I am that our family escaped Germany and actually had the opportunity to live a life and to use those spoons. 

How differently the story might have been if the local populace would not have complied with the Nazi oppressors. How many more might have survived if there would have been more willing to stand up to tyranny. Perhaps more people could have returned to claim the detritus of their lives. 

If one might think this is too much to ask, Rabbi Jonathan Sacks of blessed memory, points us to this week’s Torah portion. 

A man was nearing the end of his days. His family gathered around his bed. With the last of his energies the man kept asking if all the family members were present. The loved ones quickly assured him that every single person was accounted for. 

“If everybody is here, then why are the lights on in the kitchen?” the man demanded. 

(If you know you know!)

Rabbi Avi Baumol serves the Jewish community in Krakow. Those of us who traveled to Poland in 2020, had the privilege of hearing him share stories of his interaction with the people who come to the Krakow JCC. He has shared how often people who are about to pass away make a death bed confession. Although they have lived their lives as Gd fearing Poles, as they feel their moments are numbered it is not unusual for them to reveal to their family members that they are Jewish. During the Nazi era, when being identified as a Jew meant a death sentence, some Jews assumed  a Polish identity, donned a cross, to save themselves and their children. They exhorted their children to never reveal the truth and often it was only at the end of life that the truth came out. Rabbi Baumol recently posted about Agnieszka whom he met on her way to Israel after her grandmother shared the shocking news of her Jewish origins. It is an all too common phenomenon, and the hope is that this shocking revelation will serve as a path forward on a journey to discovery of Jewish roots. 

This week’s Torah Portion is Vayechi (my Bat mitzva portion eons ago) and there is another family interaction around a death bed. Jacob’s children gather around him as he prepares to take leave from this world. 

And he has a secret to share too!

Jacob wants to reveal to his children how the end of days will play out. Just as he is ready to make the great reveal, his ability to prophesy leaves him and he is unable to continue. This development shakes Jacob to the core. 

For the past 17 years since he has been reunited with Joseph, Jacob has finally lived a life of serenity. All the challenges he has faced now make sense to him. In hindsight all the struggles fall into place, it’s a form of redemption which he wants to share with his children. But when he experiences the veritable writer’s block he is worried. Perhaps his children are not worthy. Perhaps all is not as it seemed. 

Jacob’s children respond with the clarion call of the Jewish people

Shma Yisroel, Hear Israel, Hashem our Gd ,Hashem is One. 

We are on board, we do accept the the kingship of Gd. 

We are your proper descendants, but it’s not the time to reveal what is going to happen in the future. 

As we are preparing to go into Exile, the Egyptian exile, we will not be able to see redemption, but we will feel it, we believe that it will ultimately happen. 

That is why we cover our eyes when we say Shma, because we can’t see the redemption, but we believe in it even though things look dark. 

How old are you?

When we are small children, that question is highly appropriate and is usually answered gleefully, with every quarter of a year carefully accounted for in the reply. 

As we mature, our response changes, we hope to look older than we are, as this will allow doors and experiences to become available to us, perhaps prematurely. 

The next stage is the opposite, as we do all we can to negate the passage of time and there is a vast industry devoted to helping us look younger than our stated age. 

And as we age, gracefully, hopefully, owning each wrinkle as a battle scar rightfully won, we hope we have achieved the highest level, when it is no longer proper to ask, how old are you?

In this week’s Torah portion, Vayigash, someone seems to commit a social faux pas. 

It is none other than Pharoah, the leader of the ancient world, who upon meeting Jacob for the first time, blurts out the words “how many are the days of your life?”

In plain English, how old are you?

The commentaries note the unusual nature of the King asking about the age of a tourist visiting his country. 

They explain that Jacob looked so very old, older than anyone Pharaoh had ever seen. 

Jacob responds to the implied question by saying, I am not as old as I look. I am not even nearly the age of Abraham, but I have prematurely aged due to the challenges I have encountered. 

Rabbanit Yemima Mizrachi, one of Israel’s most popular, current Torah teachers, shared a poignant memory. 

She recalls being present at the reading of her Father’s will after his passing. The reading began with the statement that he loved all his children equally. When she heard those words she was so comforted and felt no interest in the dispersal of material things. 

As she says, she felt she had inherited millions, property that no one could fight over. 

This is the time when we want to bequeath love to our children. 

Last night I went to pay a shiva call. The woman who passed away was the mother of a large family of 8 children. It was a blended family. She married a man who was divorced with three young children. When they married, she made a personal commitment to herself to love these children as her own. 

Was she successful?

I will share a few vignettes and you can decide for yourself. 

The youngest child was 2 years old when this woman became her stepmom. Coincidentally, they shared the same name. The husband/father suggested changing the little girl’s name. She was very young and he thought she would quickly forget her original name. 

His new bride wouldn’t hear of it. She said the little girl was having to adjust to so many new realities in her life and instead she would change her own name!

So, at the age of 30, she called herself by her middle name, and continued with that appellation for the rest of her life. 

When her illness had progressed and it was time for hospice care, all the children wanted her in their own home. Ultimately her last days were spent in the home of one of the stepdaughters because the accommodations there were best for her needs. 

At the funeral, her stepson, a man of extreme accomplishment, gifted with the ability to speak publicly with great elegance and regal presence, broke down in sobs as he attempted to eulogize his Mother. I have known him for over 30 years and never saw him express such raw emotion. 

I think we would all agree that this special woman was indeed successful. 

Through the power of her love and devotion, she was able to forge loving bonds of love that tied her family together in closeness and warmth. 

When I was growing up my Mom did not watch much television. The only exceptions that come to mind were when man landed on the moon and Lady Diana got married. 

Nowadays she does watch a bit, mostly British programs. 

When I last visited we watched Downton Abbey together. 

There is a scene where a housemaid who worked for the upper class family for two years comes back after a long absence. In the interim she has had the opportunity to better herself and now comes as the patron of an organization which helps young women who wish to have a chance for education. 

The family doesn’t recognize their former maid until the butler (it’s always the butler) reveals her secret. When they become aware she had worked for them for two years, the family was somewhat mortified. 

They were embarrassed that she had been in their service but they never really looked at her. 

She was invisible. 

When we go to the theater, we see the cast and recognize their contributions, but do we ever take a moment to realize that without the people behind the scenes, the show would not go on. 

Sometimes it’s the people we do not see, or pay attention to, who make all the difference. 

We need to see those who may appear to be invisible. 

This week’s Torah portion is called VaYetzei, which means he went out. 

It is the continuation of the story of our Patriarch Jacob who must run away from home in order to escape the murderous intentions of his vengeful brother Esau. 

Jacob’s story is a story of exile. But if we look deeper, there is a great deal of inspiration embedded in the story which can direct us in times of challenge. 

Jacob begins his journey and dreams a dream. He sees angels ascending and descending a ladder and he understands that Gd is sending angels to watch over him in his journey. That comforts him as he leaves his home. 

Jacob arrives in the city of Charan, the dwelling place of his mother’s family. He is hoping to find a bride from amongst his relatives. 

Jacob arrives at the well, the local gathering place, and is surprised to see the local shepherds lounging about. When he questions their work ethic, they point to the well which is stopped up by a large boulder. They have to wait till all the shepherds gather in order to use their collective strength to move the rock. 

All of a sudden Rachel, a cousin of Jacob’s,approaches to water her flock. When Jacob sees her, he effortlessly lifts of the huge boulder by himself. 

We can suggest that his love for Rachel overcame his limitations, it is as if gravity lost its meaning when he thought of her. 

There are people who can clip our wings, there are people who give us the wings to soar. 

When Jacob recognized his eternal partner, he was given the opportunity to express his strength and potential. 

Rabbi Moshe Weinberger shares another understanding of the story of the boulder and the well.  

The well represents the wellspring of talents and gifts we all have. However, many people, even the most talented, fail because of a “boulder”, something blocking access to one’s potential and talents. In their conversation with Jacob, the shepherds utter the phrase, “we can’t do it”.  It’s impossible! 

That is what is holding them back. 

We, like the shepherds, are often deterred by the  “we can’t do it” attitude. 

Jacob, on the other hand, believed in the opportunity to overcome challenges and succeed despite the obstacles in his path. 

Everyone has a dream to accomplish something big in life, but the “I can’t do it” boulder is preventing the dream from becoming a reality. 

Jacob faced many challenges, but he forged ahead with an “I Can” philosophy, looking at the boulder in a different way. 

This week’s Torah portion is called Toldot, which means offspring. 

It is the portion which chronicles the life of our patriarch and matriarch, Isaac and Rebecca. 

Rebecca gives birth to twins, Jacob and Esau and the narrative describes the personalities of these twins and the  life path they each choose to follow. 

This past week was one of great tragedy in Israel. 

A young teenager, on his way to school, was senselessly murdered. As I read what was written about this young man, I saw in him, a parallel to our patriarch Jacob. 

The verses describe Jacob as an “ish tam” a wholesome person, “a dweller in tents”. 

The word “tam” is translated sometimes as perfect, but perhaps integrity and completeness are better translations. 

The Maharal, 16th century Torah giant,  teaches that the character trait of being a “tam” is a primary goal in character development. 

Rabbi Judah Mischel expounds on this idea of striving towards sincerity. He explains that the common definition of “tam” being perfection is the opposite of character development and spiritual growth. 

“Gd does not expect perfection from us, the entire system of repentance and the possibility of forgiveness is based on inevitable sins and mistakes.”

Jacob was called a person of wholeness and sincerity as his innermost thoughts and his words were integrated and connected. He saw the world with wonder,  innocence and completeness. 

When my children were in kindergarten they had an amazing teacher, the inimitable Morah Dena. 

She wrote a sweet ditty which we still sing to this day. 

“Sara’s Ohel (tent) as special as can be, clouds of Hashem (Gd) on top you can see. 

Candles lit from week to week

Challah so fresh it can’t be beat 

Sarah Imeinu (our matriarch) we miss you so

Rivka Imeinu will make your Ohel glow. 

Let’s delve into the deeper message of this seemingly simple song. 

This week’s Torah portion is Chayei Sara, which means the life of Sara. Yet the portion seems to focus on the details pursuing the death of Sara as Abraham deals with purchasing a burial plot for her. 

The portion then continues with the saga of finding a wife for Isaac, Abraham’s son which is concluded successfully with the marriage to Rebecca.  The  Torah relates that Isaac was comforted from the loss of his mother when he married Rebecca. 

Rashi the preeminent Torah commentary explains that there were three qualities that were unique to Sara’s tent which disappeared with her death. However, when Rebecca married Isaac, the three signs returned. This was a source of comfort to Isaac. 

What were those signs?

This week we will read the Torah portion of Vayera, which means He appeared. 

It refers to the fact that Abraham, our forefather, had recently undergone a Brit Mila, a circumcision, and while he was recovering, Gd appeared to him. 

Yet, immediately after this interaction with the Divine, Abraham lifts his eyes and sees three people approaching and in what would seem to be an inexplicably misguided set of priorities, Abraham turns his attention from Gd and rushes to attend to the  needs of these dusty, tired and hungry travelers. 

From this behavior our Sages learn the dictum

“ the deed of hospitality is greater than the welcoming of the Divine Presence. “

“Practical good deeds take precedence over any abstract spiritual enjoyment.” Nechama Leibowitz 

If we look at the verses that follow, we are regaled with details of the hospitality that ensued, and all the narrative is accompanied by one verb - haste. 

Abraham rushes to take care of his guests, leaving us, his future descendants, with a clear mission statement regarding the importance of hospitality. 

Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Horowitz accents four practical lessons we can glean from the Torah portion. 

1. Abraham waits outside his home, he proactively searches for ways to help others, he does not wait for someone to knock on the door. 
2. Abraham was a wealthy man, with a staff at his disposal. But when it came to taking care of the guests, the narrative clearly writes that he and Sarah took care of the visitors themselves.
3. Abraham did not interrogate his guests. He did not feel that since he had cared for them, they “owed” him with the answers to intrusive questions. He maintained their dignity in the face of their vulnerability. 
4. These special guests will end their stay by telling their hosts that they will be miraculously blessed with a child. 

This, says Rabbi Horowitz, is the most profound message of hospitality, or hachnassat orchim in Hebrew. 

In the case of any kindness that we do, we end up receiving far more than we give. 

What a night. 

We just finished JWCATLANTA’s Challah Bake with a Twist. 

Under the able leadership of Elana Yoels and Jessica Dickson, almost 300 women learned to braid and flavor premade challah dough, and participated in a candle decorating project, while enjoying the company of friends old and new over a glass of wine. 

It was a celebration of Shabbat. 

We talked about the power of the Shabbat candles and how they are emblematic of creating connection. Just as one who wants to create a special ambience or connection with another would create a beautiful dinner with wine and candlelight, so too do we begin Shabbat. 

It is the woman who lights the Shabbat candles as women are typically the ultimate connectors. 

In this week’s Torah portion we meet another influencer. 

It is the Torah portion of Noah, and the story of the destruction  of the world by a flood and the survival of Noah in his family in the Ark. 

Five times in the portion it mentions Noah’s wife, but her actual name does not appear. It is  the Midrash that reveals her name, Naamah, which means pleasant, as her deeds were pleasant. 

One of the commentaries ask, why are we not told her name in the text, why is she continuously dubbed The Wife?

The explanation given is that in those dreadful days leading up to the Flood, the sanctity of marriage was corrupted. While men in those days were allowed more than one wife, they began the despicable practice of having one wife for childbirth, and another wife reserved for pleasure. The harmony and balance of the marital relationship which incorporates all aspects of interaction, was distorted. 

In the case of Noah and Naama she is given rhe appellation of The Wife, because they did not fall prey to this sick version of a marriage, but instead had a wholesome partnership. 

In this case, being called The Wife, was praise indeed. 

The JWC Atlanta/Federation Chanukah event will be on Wednesday, December 14th at 7:30pm at Roswell River Landing.  More details may be found here.

Please follow the link below to the application to be considered as a vendor for the 2022 JWC Atlanta/Federation Chanukah event! 

After your application has been received, you will be contacted by a member of our committee with further details.  Thank you for your support!

There is no cost for a table, however, we ask all vendors to donate 10% of their sales for the evening to JWC Atlanta, thank you!

Link to application: https://forms.gle/PWsjbgaFqVL5fN3Q9

Our kids are coming home! They are coming from the four corners of the earth ( ok I’m exaggerating, but none of them live in Atlanta). 

The ingathering is quite a miracle really. 

As exciting as it is there is always the prayer that everyone will get along. 

When children come home they sometimes revert to should we call them, old patterns?

What’s the occasion you may ask?

They are returning home to celebrate the upcoming holiday of Sukkot. 

There are many rituals that are associated with the holiday, like eating meals in a Sukka, which is a flimsy type of hut reminiscent of the structures the Jewish people lived in during their trek through the desert. Sitting in the Sukka is a lovely experience. We leave our sturdy homes (unless we live in the path of Ian) and move into a temporary structure. This makes us pause as we take a moment to recognize the blessings in our lives as we focus on the gifts we have been given. Much of the familiar and material is put aside and we feel grateful for the gifts of our existence. It’s a time to enjoy wonderful meals with family and friends in a setting open to nature, under the stars. 

Think Pizza in the Hut. 

Another practice of Sukkot is the taking of the Four Species, the Lulav, a palm frond, an Etrog a citron, Hadassim myrtle branches and Aravot- willows. The four are held together as part of the rituals of Sukkot. Each of the species represent a different type of person. The Lulav represents one blessed with Torah wisdom, the Etrog intuits a person who is blessed with Torah and good deeds, the Hadassim reflects a person with exhibits good deeds and the Aravot is symbolic of a person who has neither good deeds nor wisdom. 

The powerful message of the taking of the Four Species is that the mitzva requires taking all four together. If one is missing, the mitzva is incomplete. This indicates that the Jewish people is only complete when we all join together and support one another. We all need each other and we all complete each other.

The Jewish people can only have a relationship with the Divine if we can all accept and embrace one another, despite any lacking or differences. 

Carrying around the Four Species creates quite the visual. 

Even the TSA had to be briefed on the unusual flora, and they have codified in their regulations that travelers may take the Species on the plane and they are not any type of weaponry no matter the fact that the Lulav may look somewhat intimidating. 

A few days ago I was about to walk into a store in my neighborhood and I saw a dear friend. We exchanged warm hellos and then I was about to continue into the store when she said she wanted to talk to me about something. 

She then proceeded to tell me that I had thoughtlessly done something very hurtful to her. She then explained in detail what had happened. 

After she finished I was in a state of shock. 

So many thoughts tumbled through my mind. 

My first reaction was to be defensive, how could she think I would do such a thing?

I thought of many ways to explain it all away. 

Then I took a deep breath and a huge gulp, and I simply apologized. I explained that I had never intended to hurt her. 

I listened carefully as she explained her position and I understood where I had indeed erred. 

Then, I took the opportunity to thank her from the bottom of my heart for being willing to be so open, vulnerable and brave with me so that I could repair a fissure that I had created. 

In these days between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur we have the chance to make amends. 

It is a time for reconciliation between ourselves and the people in our orbit, and between ourselves and Gd. 

But reconciling often requires making an apology for committing a wrong. 

But apologizing (unlike Breaking Up) is hard to do. 

Why is it so hard?

It is with a very heart that I take pen to paper. 

The Atlanta Jewish community is reeling over the loss of a young person whose life was tragically cut short. 

Everyone is grappling with the pain, worrying about the family and trying to make sense of the horrific event. 

There are no easy answers. 

We know life is finite. 

But life should be long, and should end in old age. 

Here the end came so very, very prematurely. 

It is hard to imagine where to find a source to withstand such pain. 

In this week’s Torah portion 

the Jewish people stood before Moses, on the last day of his life. 

It is recorded in the Torah that they were standing before him on that day:

Atem Nitzavim HaYom

You are standing Today. 

(This week’s Torah portion is called Nitzavim, standing)

We are acutely aware of Today. There are no guarantees of tomorrow.  

We have to use the time allotted to us with care and thought because none of us know for certain that there is another day to come. 

Today I saw a sight that filled me with pity. 

As the event unfolded before my eyes I could feel the feeling of loss, frustration and deep sense of regret in the protagonist. 

The feeling of a missed opportunity was hanging heavy and I could relate completely. 

Let me elaborate. 

I was driving down the road and I noticed a woman, standing in the middle of the street. 

She stood, alone, shoulders slumped in defeat, a full garbage bag in her hand with the specter of the garbage truck beating a hasty exit before her. 

I could feel her pain. 

If only she had been there a minute before!

What a lost opportunity. 

This is a very timely allegory. 

We are poised to enter the High Holiday season and we have in hand a heavy load. 

Perhaps missed opportunities to say kind words. 

Perhaps unkind words we let escape from our lips. 

Perhaps we misjudged someone without giving the benefit of the doubt. 

But we are so fortunate. 

We are not watching the garbage truck speed off into the horizon. 

We can still hop aboard a vehicle of self awareness. 

We have the opportunity to show up and move forward.