Rabbi Howard Morrison

Dear Congregational Family, 

In Parshat Vayehi, the brothers fear that Joseph might exact retribution on them after the passing of Jacob. The brothers say to Joseph:

"Before his death, your father left this instruction: So shall you say to Joseph, 'forgive, I urge you, the offense and guilt of your brothers who treated you so harshly. Therefore, please forgive the offense of the servants of the God of your father.' "

The challenge raised by this text is that Jacob never said such a thing to the brothers of Joseph. Based on Rabbinic sources, Rashi comments: "Shinu Ba'Davar Mipnei Ha'Shalom - They changed the truth for the sake of peace." The Talmud (Tractate Yevamot) supplies the basis for what the brothers did in saying, "It is permissible to change (ie. the facts of the truth) for the sake of peace."

Some other classical commentators attempt to justify that while Jacob never said the afore-mentioned words, he would have endorsed the brothers' words if he had felt them necessary to unite Joseph and the family. 

Other instances in the Torah also permit deviations of the truth solely for the sake of establishing family peace. One particular example appears earlier in the Abraham - Sarah narratives.  Nevertheless, every previous story in Genesis concludes with a family in conflict and turmoil. However, the Book of Genesis, with its little white lie for the sake of Shalom Bayit - family peace, will enable the largest Biblical family of seventy people to unite as one. As a result, this family will grow into the nation of Israel when we begin to read from the second book of the Torah, Shmot-Exodus.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Howard Morrison

Dear Congregational Family

For over a year and a half, shuls around the world have relied on Zoom to gather for prayer during the pandemic. While many shuls used this medium to connect on weekdays, some used Zoom and others a livestream for Shabbat and holy days.

The electronic platforms have been a gift when otherwise we would have been shut out from the world and from each other.  In virtual prayer platforms, relatives and friends have been able to mourn together, observe a yahrzeit together, celebrate a Bar/Bat Mitzvah together, commemorate a baby naming together, and more, from across the globe.

As some shuls like ours are gradually having more services in shul, I know of some communities who are preferring the Zoom model even when returning to shul is safe. Such a notion scares me. 

My colleague, Rabbi Neil Kurshan, living in New York, recently wrote an article entitled, "After nearly two years of Zoom, I yearn to feel the tug on my sleeve." In it, he misses the Minyannaire, the frail person standing to recite Kaddish, the parent and grown child who start their day in shul and kiss each other before embarking on their separate day's activities, the banter which takes place during and after davening. 

More importantly, Rabbi Kurshan and I miss the tug on the sleeve.

Beth Emeth services will continue to be livestream accessible for anyone who cannot physically make it to shul, for reasons of health, geographic distance, or otherwise. Beyond that however, it is time to come back home, to shul - weekday, Shabbat, morning or soon to be, afternoon. 

In Parshat Vayigash, once the family of Jacob is reunified, the first thing Jacob does is to send Judah ahead of him to Goshen where they will reside. Why is Judah sent ahead? What is the purpose? Says Rashi, based on an earlier teaching found in the Midrash, to set up a physical spiritual center from where Torah will be taught. 

Those who founded Beth Emeth knew this lesson well. In the 1950's, new residents to Bathurst Manor and beyond saw the need for a physical spiritual center from where Torah would be taught, and daily communal prayer would be practiced.  We today are the beneficiaries of those who made tremendous commitments several decades ago.

We will continue to be a hybrid of in person and electronic platforms as necessitated. However, all morning services now occur in shul, and on Jan 3, all services, morning and afternoon, will emanate from Beth Emeth.

For all who can, I yearn to feel the tug on my sleeve.

Rabbi Howard Morrison

Dear Congregational Family,

One of the books I added to my rabbinic collection in the 1990's is entitled, "How to forgive when you cannot forget." It was written by a colleague of mine who lived nearby from me. The book is a recapitulation of the saga between Joseph and his brothers.

Joseph would never forget how his brothers threw him into a pit, almost left him to die, and sold him to slavery in Egypt. Now, many years later, Joseph is a viceroy in Egypt, and his brothers are subservient to him during a time of famine.

Joseph could easily take vengeance against his brothers. However, after Judah offers a passionate plea, Joseph reveals himself to his brothers. Forgiveness and reconciliation ensue. Joseph embodied the lesson that one can forgive even when one cannot forget. Ultimately, forgiveness is not about letting the aggressor off the hook. Rather, forgiveness is about removing a burden from within ourselves so that we can live healthier lives physically, emotionally, and spiritually. The ability to forgive is one of the hardest challenges in one's life.

When the Joseph-Judah sagas began, both brothers were brought to a low point. Judah had shown terrible aspects of himself to Tamar before she inspired him to change and to grow. Joseph had been self-righteous to his family, which resulted in him going 'down' to a pit, 'down' to Egypt, and 'down' to a prison before he was gradually raised up to a position of prominence. 

In this week's Parsha, Joseph and Judah both show that it is possible to change, to grow, to unite, and to move forward in life. May their examples bring meaning to our lives today.

Sincerely,
Rabbi Howard Morrison

Dear Congregational Family,

What can the lights of Chanukah mean for us?

The Shamash is the light that serves the others. This light can refer to the essential and front line workers who have served us all during the pandemic.

The eight lights:

1. The light from within our souls that is always burning. How can we nurture that light?

2. The light of religious freedom for all peace loving religions and cultures. How can we expand that light?

3. The light of Torah and Mitzvot. What will each of us do to broaden our devotion to Torah study and the observance of Mitzvot?

4. The light of unity. What will the Jewish people do to enrich unity and minimize divisiveness?

5. The light of love. How will individuals, families, and communities spread love in our world?

6. The light of faith. What will we do to brighten our belief in God and Godly values in our lives and the life of our people?

7. The light of Israel. Each morning we pray for a new light to shine upon Zion. What are we doing to spread the light of Israel as a beacon to the world?

8. The light of optimism. How can we use the light of a positive outlook to dispel the darkness of negativity and anxiety?

What other interpretations of Chanukah light might you share this year?

Sincerely,

Rabbi Howard Morrison

Dear Congregational Family,

My parents were married on the first light of Chanukah in 1954. Several years ago on the first night of Chanukah, I was driving to the shul for the young family Chanukah party. Heading into the shul parking lot, the license plate ahead of me read "167 SOV." The number was my childhood address  and "sov" refers to the spinning dreidl of Chanukah.

Fast forward, last night, I kindled the Chanukiah for the second night with both my sons, Elie and Yonah in Denver, where Elie now resides. The three Morrison men, as we like to call ourselves, had not been physically together since prior to Covid.

On the first night, I remembered my past. On the second night, I honoured my present.

I wish us all good memories and joyous celebration as we integrate the generations with the lights of Chanukah.

Sincerely,

Rabbi Howard Morrison

Dear Congregational Family,

Shalom bayit, peace in the home, is a central value in Judaism. From the moment a wedding couple stands under the chuppa, shalom bayit is reinforced.

In  this week's Parsha, we find an odd spelling of shalom, an incomplete or deficient spelling. When Joseph shares dreams to his brothers in which they become subservient to him, the Torah says, "they were not able to speak peacefully to Joseph." Given the broken spelling of shalom, we can deduce that the brothers' wrath was so strong, they could not even speak a partial peace to Joseph.

Sadly, the Torah is filled with stories of dysfunctional family relationships. May we learn constructive lessons even from these kinds of narratives to strive towards shalom bayit in our situations.

Sincerely,

Rabbi Howard Morrison

Dear Congregational Family,

Parshat Vayeshev introduces the Joseph saga and will be read in its entirety two days prior to Chanukah. We can find some parallels.

Joseph goes down to Egypt and further down to prison before he is raised up to prominence. Similarly, a small vial of oil down to almost nothing miraculously raised itself to last eight days.

Joseph always remembered his heritage even during many years in Egypt. He rejected certain advances made to him because of his faithfulness. Similarly, when many Jews were assimilating and becoming Hellenistic, the Maccabees maintained and restored faith and piety to the Jewish people.

Joseph was the additional child when he was born and the first to Jacob's beloved wife Rachel. The Hebrew of Joseph's name means "to add." Each night of Chanukah, we are "Mosif v' Holaich," as we continuously add a new light to the Chanukiah each night of the Festival.

As we introduce Joseph this week, his story prepares us for the joyous eight days of Chanukah.

Sincerely,

Rabbi Howard Morrison

Dear Congregational Family,

The origin of the term Israel-Yisrael is found in this week's Torah portion of Vayishlach. In it, Jacob wrestles and struggles, but with whom? An angel of God? A representation of Esau? His own inner self? Commentaries abound. By the end of the encounter, Jacob's name is changed to Israel-Yisrael, meaning, one who has struggled and wrestled with God and has prevailed with God.

Most people I know do believe in God. At the same time, most people I know wrestle and struggle with their belief in God. In my opinion, it is the honest struggle which enables one to prevail in a relationship with God. When we attend a prayer service, we may recite prayers with an exclamation point, a period, or even a question mark. All of these mean that deep down the person at hand believes in God. The only unacceptable position in Judaism is to deny God, a phenomenon which would keep people away from praying in any format.

Many times and especially after losing loved ones, don't we all struggle with our faith and wrestle with our own purpose? We are in good company. The origins of struggling, wrestling, and prevailing with God take us back 4000 years to our Patriarch, Jacob.

While Israel-Yisrael is associated with the name of a People, a Land, a State, and a Tradition, let us remember that the name Israel began with a person and the nature of his faith and purpose. We can all identify with the name of Israel-Yisrael.

Sincerely,

Rabbi Howard Morrison

(Taken from Rabbi Mark Angel's Jewish Ideas)

Dear Congregational Family,

Today is the 83rd anniversary of Kristallnacht, "The Night of Broken Glass," named after the windows of Jewish businesses and homes that were shattered during the  overnight of November 9-10, 1938. Most synagogues throughout Germany, Austria, and the annexed Czechoslovakian Sudetenland were plundered and set alight that night. Thousands of Jewish businesses were damaged, and 30,000 Jewish men were sent to concentration camps.

Who could imagine that unbridled hatred and anti-Jewish venom could have led to such violence, pillage, and murder?

The ongoing message is to remain vigilant, to fight against all forms of anti-Semitism, bigotry, and racism. Once hatred takes root in society, the consequences can be devastating for everyone.

The Prophets of the Bible foresaw a time when people will no longer devote their energies to war and destructive hatred. We are, unfortunately, not yet living in such an ideal world.

But each person can either bring us closer to the goal, or drag us further from it.

Sincerely, 

Rabbi Howard Morrison

Dear Congregational Family,

This week's Parsha of Vayetze and the holiday of Chanukah both fall out in Kislev and share a common theme. In the Parsha, Jacob experiences the presence of God while having a dream in which angels ascend and descend a ladder connecting heaven and earth. It is noteworthy that Jacob observes the angels ascending first and foremost.

When we celebrate Chanukah in a few weeks, we will light the Chanukiah in an ascending order, adding an additional candle each night. We do so based on the principle, "One ascends in holiness and does not descend."

Scholars long ago have taught us that Judaism may be understood as a ladder of spiritual growth. Religious attainment is not an all or nothing proposition but is fulfilled one step at a time. 

During this month of Kislev, I encourage all of us to take a Mitzvah which we can refine, or choose a Mitzvah which has been neglected and begin to appreciate it and observe it one step at a time. In doing so, we, like those who have come before us, can experience the step by step growth on the rungs of Judaism's ladder of spirituality.

Sincerely,

Rabbi Howard Morrison

In Parshat Vayera, Abraham and Sarah are situated at the entry of their tent. Our tradition understands them as exemplars for welcoming guests and providing for those in need. Three passersby (angels in disguise) are immediately welcomed into the tent. They are provided with food, drink, and shelter.

The Jewish home is spiritually modelled from that first Jewish home. The chuppa, a symbol of the new home, is structured with a cover on top and with sides open to replicate the open tent of the first Jewish couple.

Likewise, a synagogue is meant to be a welcoming place. This past Shabbat, we had our largest Shabbat morning turnout during the pandemic and with a sponsored kiddush bag of goodies to go. I am grateful that the Shabbat morning attendance is increasing and am equally grateful to the over one hundred households which join us via livestream every Shabbat. We are now trying to invigorate our turnouts on Friday evening as well as Monday and Thursday mornings, the weekday services with Torah reading.

Likewise, the open tent theme applies to being there for each other at times of joy and grief. Last week, sadly, four funerals took place within the Beth Emeth family. On Sunday alone, I participated in a Bat Mitzvah, two unveilings, and an on line baby naming. The loving open tent of caring was reflected by our community in all of these situations.

May we know much more from celebration than tragedy. May we perpetuate the open tent/door policy in our homes and synagogue, a lesson learned from the outset of this week's Torah portion.

Sincerely,

Rabbi Howard Morrison

Dear Congregational Family,

In November of 1999, I participated in a telephone interview with the co-chairs of the senior rabbi search committee at Beth Emeth. In late December, I flew to Toronto to meet with the entire search committee. In late January of 2000, I flew in to spend a Shabbat here, and I interacted with the various segments of the shul community. In mid-March of 2000, I was offered the position of senior rabbi, which began in August of 2000. A couple of weeks ago, I completed my twenty-second High Holy Day season with our synagogue. 

This week's Torah portion is called Lech Lecha. Our founding patriarch, Abram, is called upon by God to uproot himself from his homeland, from his birth place and from his parent's home to embark on a journey to an unknown land which God will show him. The result of the divine call is the beginning of Judaism, the Jewish people, and what is up to now a 4000 year heritage.

With differences to be sure, I and my young family at the time uprooted ourselves from a community that we knew. We heard the call to move from New York to Toronto. When I came here, my children were six and two; now they are twenty-seven and twenty-three.

I am grateful to all the members of our community. I am grateful to the teams of executives and boards who have led our synagogue. I am grateful to the current executive and board, which will complete their two year term next month. Being a synagogue volunteer is challenging enough. Noone asked to be a shul leader during the pandemic. I admire and respect the work done by all of our volunteers and synagogue staff during the last two years. To Malcolm Weinstein (president), Steven Greenwood (chairman of the board) and their team, I say Yasher Koach on a job well done and for all the countless hours spent keeping our shul safe and vibrant.

I now look forward to working with the next executive and board, who will be introduced at next month's annual general meeting. I wish you all Hatzlacha, success, in the next chapter of our synagogue's wonderful legacy.

I am confident that together we will maintain and grow our synagogue in new significant ways. I look forward to serving you, teaching you, learning from you, and connecting with you in the year and years to come. May God bless us all with good health, contentment, and purpose.

Sincerely,

Rabbi Howard Morrison

Dear Congregational Family,

On Thursday, I began teaching a new class on the Haftarot, the Prophetic selections which complete the Torah service on Sabbaths, Festivals, and Fast Days. 

Did the Haftarot originate when Jews were banned from Torah reading during the period of the Maccabees? or during the period of Rabbi Akiva? While legends abound, the history is unclear.

In the early years of the synagogue, the Torah reading was complemented by the Haftarah and the Derasha, or homily, which often began with an opening verse from the Writings. Thus, every Shabbat contained references to the three strata of the Hebrew Bible - The Torah, Prophets, and Writings, Tanach, in short.

The Haftarot were selected either to connect in some way to the Torah portion or to reflect special days on the calendar. The latter would consist of Holy Days, Fast Days, the Seven Weeks of Comfort in the Summer, etc. Otherwise, the Haftarah would contain themes, verbal similarities, literary parallels, or more, which would unite the Haftarah with the weekly Torah portion.

Discoveries from the Cairo Geniza at the turn of the twentieth century demonstrate a wider selection of Haftarot than we use today and more differences between the selections of Ashkenazim and Sefardim. In part, these realities are based on the fact that the usage of Haftarot began in ancient Israel when the Torah was read over three years in a triennial system, thus resulting in more Haftarot. Over the course of the centuries, traditional congregations perpetuated the annual Babylonian Torah reading cycle, which reflects the range of Haftarot in our time.

Every Haftarah stems from one of the Biblical Prophets. For Parshat Noach, the Prophetic lesson comes from the book of Isaiah. As the Parsha contains the comfort that God would never destroy the world again and reaffirms God's covenant with humanity; the Prophet shares similar ideas of comfort and reaffirmation from God to Israel in the aftermath of the First Temple's destruction. The language of Noach and the flood finds direct referencing in the Haftarah.

Our class on the Haftarot will meet regularly on Thursdays at noon over Zoom and Facebook Live. Please check the website regularly to ensure the class is on, or when the class may not be offered due to personal time away or emergencies.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Howard Morrison

Dear Congregational Family,

In Parshat Bereishit, it has been noted that the last three letters in the first three words of the Torah and the last three letters of the last three words in the first creation narrative both spell "Emet," meaning, truth. Classical commentators have suggested that "Emeth-Truth" is a seal for God's name. While other traits can be relative, Truth is absolute. One can be more or less kind, more or less compassionate, more or less nice, more or less cruel. However, truth cannot be relative. Two people can have divergent opinions or divergent narratives, but one ought not call them divergent truths.

A week ago, U.S. Vice-President, Kamala Harris, met with students at George Mason University to discuss voter registration. One student changed the topic and declared to the Vice-President some terrible false statements about Israel. This student also criticized The government for supporting the iron dome. Instead of her correcting the student or staying to the assigned topic, V.P. Harris said to the student, "Your truth should not be suppressed."

These words should concern us all. Are high echelon leaders now calling false inaccuracies "truth?" Are high echelon leaders confusing "opinion" with "truth?" Are high echelon leaders making everything relative, which means there is no longer a true, authentic, definitive truth?

We should stand on high alert by such rhetoric and be concerned. The very beginning of the Torah instructs us that a relative truth is no truth at all, and that the seal of God is definitive truth.

Sincerely,

Rabbi Howard Morrison

Dear Congregational Family,

These past few weeks have transitioned us from one year to the next. With the passing of Simchat Torah, our Torah reading cycle has transitioned from the end to the beginning. An old joke has us pronounce the Torah's opening words "In the beginning" as "In the big inning."

As a Boston raised baseball fan living in Toronto, every inning this weekend will be a big inning, as Toronto, Boston, New York and Seattle compete for two wild card spots. How ironic is it that the baseball season ends and the playoffs begin as we finish and begin the Torah reading cycle.

On a more serious note, how will we make the new year of 5782 a more Jewishly enriching one than the year before? The beginning of the Torah anew allows us to spiritually begin anew in our personal lives.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Howard Morrison