Blog

September 15, 2024 | 12 Elul 5784
Rabbi Benjamin Sharff
In today’s world, where certainty and binaries reign, it is so hard to find any space for commonality or even perceiving humanity in someone else who holds a different view. If I am right, then you are wrong. And more than that, if I am right, then your worldview is fundamentally flawed and there is no hope for you.

And this is the challenge of binaries. As we learn from Judaism, for me the world was created AND, I am but dust and ashes. This means there are opportunities to see and engage with others who may not see and feel the same way we do. For we are the center of our world, but we are also no better than anyone else.

To heal rifts among people means we have to be able to hold both truths in our hands. To create or re-engage in relationships that are broken means being able to tzimtzum, contract our sense of rightness and certainty, and be able to genuinely hear, listen, and care. 

It also means not placing the weight of the world on others, especially if we do not wish to do that to ourselves. However, healing rifts does not mean that we have to accept perspectives we may fundamentally disagree with. Far from it!. It simply means giving space for others to live and engage with us. Healing rifts comes with listening even if it does not always mean accepting.

September 16, 2024| 13 Elul 5784
Rabbi Deana Sussman Berezin
Seeing the World in Jewish Time
So often in our lives, we mark time through significant moments– the beginning of a new school year, the countdown to January 1st, the number of days until summer vacation, and the like. These moments serve to connect us with the world around us. And yet, as Jews, we straddle both secular and sacred time. Jewish time tells the story of how we, as a people, move through the world, and gives us the opportunity to invite in meaning and sanctity, as we weave it into the fabric of our lives. 
 
The cyclical nature of Jewish times teaches us that every season is connected, and that we cannot experience the fullness of one without the season that came before. We find ourselves in this arc of time, where Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are the climactic moments, but we cannot appreciate their meaning fully without first living through the brokenness of Tisha B’Av. During the month of Elul, we begin the ascent towards the new year, and work towards realigning our thoughts with our speech, our priorities with our actions. Our spiritual challenge is to look inward, to find where the brokenness resides, and to begin the sacred healing of the rifts in our hearts, our souls, and our relationships

September 17, 2024 | 14 Elul 5784
Rabbi Simone Schicker
Every morning we recite a blessing for Torah Study. Which then requires us to fulfill the recitation of a blessing with its associated action. Many of us choose to read the words of Eilu D’varim (Mishnah Peah 1:1). While each piece of the passage is powerful, my eyes are often drawn towards the end when we recite vahava’at shalom bein adam lachaveiro - and making peace among people.

The making of peace, the healing of rifts, between people is difficult work. Each and every day we can find ourselves in a struggle with others - at home, at work, at school or at the store. Someone cuts us off in traffic, someone forgets a birthday or anniversary, someone causes us or a loved one pain. Each day is an opportunity to recognize that we can create rifts or we can build bridges. When we choose to do the important work of peace making we are reflecting the good in each of us, the holiness which we are blessed with. As Hillel taught, “Be of the disciples of Aaron, loving peace and pursuing peace, loving other human beings and bringing them near to the Torah.” (Pirkei Avot 1:12)

As we journey through the month of Elul, making amends with ourselves and those around us, may we continue to choose peace over strife in each of our interactions with others.

September 18, 2024 | 15 Elul 5784
Rabbi Alan Litwak
“Fraternal Rifts”
The entire biblical book of Genesis is a study in fraternal strife. One set of brothers after another is in conflict. Yet, even as the trauma seems to doom the next generation to more pain, there is also a moral arc that swings towards healing. 

The die is cast when Cain kills his brother. Separated by their parents, Isaac and Ishmael only come together at their father Abraham’s funeral. They never speak again. Jacob and Esau are separated by the deep seated jealousy between them. There is a momentary reconciliation, but when Esau offers to slow down his flock so that the brothers can travel side by side, Jacob declines. Once more, they separate, never to come back together again. We would think that Jacob learned his lesson, but it is his favoritism of his son Joseph that contributes to Joseph’s brothers’ decision to sell him into slavery to a caravan of Ishmaelites. It is only after many years passing that Joseph and his brothers reconcile in Egypt. Embracing, weeping, and kissing ensue, as we finally experience a lasting reconciliation and happy ending to a story of biblical brothers. 

Sometimes healing the rifts takes generations.

“Coming Together”
The rift may be wide, 
like a deep chasm that has cleaved the ice pack 
The rift may be narrow, 
like a stream that runs through the backyard. 
The sides do not come together by themselves, 
Only with a leap, they are traversed 
Like staples that pull together 
two sides of a wound.

September 19, 2024 | 16 Elul 5784
Rabbi Neal Katz
During Elul, I like to meditate on a beautiful teaching from the Torah that reminds me of my smallness.

In Genesis, as our ancestor Jacob prepared to meet his estranged brother, Esau – for what he presumed would be a battle, Jacob prayed to God:

“קָטֹנְתִּי מִכֹּל הַחֲסָדִים וּמִכׇּל־הָאֱמֶת אֲשֶׁר עָשִׂיתָ אֶת־עַבְדֶּךָ”
“I am unworthy of all the kindness that You have so steadfastly shown Your servant”
(Genesis 32:11)

What a beautiful word in Hebrew: katonti. It could be translated literally as “I am small,” (from katan) but a better rendering is “I am unworthy.”

Soon after this exclamation, Jacob wrestles with an angel/God/his inner struggle and emerges with a new name: Yisrael. Growth and strength come AFTER admitting smallness and humility.

Katonti teaches us that at all times, we stand before God and must acknowledge our smallness. It is from this perspective of humility that we can grow as people. If I stand before God and proclaim that I am already the greatest person I can be, where is the room to grow? There is none.

And so, humility before God allows us to refocus our perspective to see that we are indeed small. We always have room for growth.

This was true for Jacob, and it can serve as a model for how to heal struggles in our own lives. As we encounter rifts, let us first acknowledge our smallness. And with humility and perspective, may we strive toward healing, strength, and wholeness. 

September 20, 2024 | 17 Elul 5784
Rabbi Batsheva Appel

"Is such the fast I desire,
A day for people to starve their bodies?...
No, this is the fast I desire:
To unlock fetters of wickedness,
And untie the cords of the yoke 
To let the oppressed go free;
To break off every yoke. [Isaiah 58:5-6]"

The juxtaposition of these two verses makes for powerful oratory. God asking us, and we generally hear these verses while fasting on Yom Kippur, essentially, “What do you think you are doing? Did I ask for this?” And then answering, “No. You’ve got it all wrong and this is what to do instead.” As a rebuke, it sizzles with anger and disappointment.

"It is to share your bread with the hungry,
And to take the wretched poor into your home;
When you see the naked, to clothe them,
And not to ignore your own kin. 
Then shall your light burst through like the dawn
And your healing spring up quickly…[Isaiah 58:7-8]"

The description of righteousness and justice that the Eternal is demanding of us goes from the general to the particular; from explaining our obligations as a community to our obligations as individuals. We are being told, in the words of Bryan Stevenson, of the necessity of getting proximate. By being proximate to those on the margins of society, we learn the causes of injustice and can enact some measure of justice, in effect breaking off every yoke. 
When we do the work of justice, speedy healing is possible. It all depends on us.

September 21, 2024 | 18 Elul 5784
Shaliach Tzibbur Raymond Zachary
Healing rifts among people, especially through a Jewish lens, is about embracing core values that can guide us in mending broken relationships. In Jewish tradition, concepts like teshuvah (repentance) and shalom bayit (peace in the home) offer practical insights for overcoming conflicts.

The process often begins with teshuvah, where we acknowledge our role in the conflict and make a genuine effort to apologize, make amends, and correct the behavior that caused the rift so it does not occur again. This isn’t just about saying sorry but about taking real steps to repair the damage done. It’s a way to show that we value the relationship and are committed to moving forward.

Practicing shalom bayit teaches us that peace is something we actively work towards. When faced with a rift, we must approach the situation with an open mind and a willingness to understand the other person’s point of view. This means setting aside our own frustrations to really listen, relate, and empathize.

Additionally, chesed (loving-kindness) plays a crucial role. It encourages us to act with compassion and respect, even when it's challenging. By showing kindness and striving to understand each other, we can transform conflicts into opportunities for growth and stronger connections.

Ultimately, healing rifts involves embracing these principles to rebuild trust and harmony. It’s about putting in the effort to repair relationships, guided by values that foster peace and mutual respect. For the love of God, let us love one another.