Rabbi Howard Morrison

My name is Noach. I am watching my world fall apart. I do not know if I have any friends, or if I can trust anyone. I am concerned about taking my children to school. I will not feel safe until there is a new world order. In the meantime, I will find refuge in an Ark which contains an inside spiritual light and a window from which to see the outside world.

My name is Jew on October 7^th and beyond. I am watching my world fall apart. I do not know if I have any friends outside my faith. I am not sure who I can trust. I am concerned about taking my children to school. I will not feel safe until there is a new world order. In the meantime, I find refuge with my people at shul with its Ark, eternal light, and a window  from which to see the outside world.

Rabbi Howard Morrison

Noach is introduced as a wholly righteous person in his generation. A few verses later, the text says twice that the world was filled with Hamas.

The Hebrew Hamas has been translated as robbery, corruption, violence, lawlessness, and more. Perhaps the pure evil associated with the Hebrew term makes it hard to translate. It seems to me that the terrorist group of the same name resembles the Hebrew word Hamas.

Noach is the father of humanity. Now is the time for all civilized humanity, not just small Israel, to wage battle against the Hamas of our time.

May righteousness win out over evil speedily in our day.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Howard Morrison

Today is Shabbat Bereishit, literally, the Sabbath of new beginning, as we start to read the Torah anew. This year, the new beginning of our Torah reading cycle takes on new meaning. Last Shabbat, when Israel was to begin celebrating Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah on one joyous day, what should have been rejoicing turned into horror, tragedy, terror, and death. Today, a week later, we begin our Torah just as Scripture records the nature of the earth before the actual creation narrative:

"The earth was unformed and void with darkness over the surface of the deep (Genesis 1:1)."

Such a darkness has befallen Israel and the Jewish world over the past seven days. We have known of pogroms throughout our history. Now, a pogrom of the largest proportions actually took place in our modern sovereign homeland perpetuated with Nazi-like behaviors from evil animals. 

Within our Beth Emeth community, we have member families living and visiting in Israel. We have member families whose children or other relatives are serving in the IDF as we speak. We have Israeli families in our shul whose relatives are living in fear at this moment. We have our beautiful Shinshinim, Omri and Sharon, who are living separate from their families so far away.

It is noteworthy in our Parsha today that the first act of creation by God is the creation of light. "God saw that the light was good, and God separated the light from the darkness (Genesis 1:3)."

We dare not confuse light and darkness. We dare not succumb to moral equivalence and relativism. We dare not be seduced into false notions that there is good and bad on both sides of the current horror. There is no ambivalence, no ambiguity, no doubt, no question.

There is clear light, and there is clear darkness.

There is clear right, and there is clear wrong.

There is clear righteousness, and there is clear evil.

Israel was provoked by sudden acts of barbarism, cruelty, and savagery. Israel has been pulled into a DEFENSIVE war not of its making.

 You and I can help to shed light over the darkness:

• Share the truth
• Reach out to government officials and the media
• Remind Israel that she is not alone
• Donate money
• Connect with family and friends in Israel
• Pray as individuals and in communal settings

Shabbat Bereishit is a call to action. We Jews are united in all of our diversity. We Ashkenazim or Sefardim, liberal or traditional, left-wing or right-wing are united as one family, as one people. We are united in our grief, and we are united in our resolve. We are ONE.

Sadly, this crisis of so many dimensions will not be resolved so quickly. When we gather for Parshat Noach next week, the Torah reading begins with the words, "Va'Timaleh Ha'Aretz Chamas - chamas ( translated as either lawlessness or violence) filled the earth (Genesis 6:11)." While the Hebrew word, chamas, is linguistically distinct from the Arabic abbreviation of chamas, it is noteworthy that the Biblical Hebrew word means "violence" or "lawlessness" depending on the translation. The Hebrew, chamas, implies more than just the brute force attacks we think of when we hear the English word, violence. It can also include injustice, oppression, and cruelty. I dare say the Hebrew, chamas, aptly describes the evil animals who have murdered over a 1000 Israelis, injured thousands more, and taken a 100 or so as hostage.

We are a people always filled with hope. Our anthem is correctly entitled, "Ha'Tikvah."

Kohelet, the book of Ecclesiastes, associated with Shemini Atzeret, contains the famous expressions: "a time to kill and a time to heal . . . a time to weep and a time to laugh . . . a time to mourn and a time to dance. . . a time to keep silence and a time to speak . . .a time for war and a time for peace."

Sadly, right now is a time to kill evil, a time to weep, a time to mourn, a time to speak, and a time for war. May the day come soon when we can say it is a time to heal, a time to laugh, a time to dance, a time to keep silence, and a time for peace.

Each morning at the outset of our daily prayers, we recite a psalm which concludes with the words:

"Hafachta Mispdi L'Machol Li,  Pitachta Saki Va'T'Azraini Simcha - You turned my mourning into dancing; you changed my sackcloth into robes of joy (Psalm 30)."

May this daily sentiment come true and speedily in our day.

Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi Howard Morrison

During the seven days of Sukkot, the Torah readings instructed the ancient Israelites to bring seventy offerings which corresponded to the notion that there were seventy nations in the world. These Jewish rituals evidenced Jewish concern and responsibility for the world at large.

Similarly, the first eleven chapters of the Torah describe universal narratives and myths. The Jewish part of the Torah begins in chapter twelve with Abram/Abraham. The prior chapters of Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel, Noah and the flood, the Tower of Babel, and more depict the worldly stage prior to the entry of the first Jewish family.

The afore-mentioned two examples demonstrate Jewish recognition and respect for the world at large. Now, Israel needs the nations of the world to understand, respect, and support Israel during an unprecedented time of horror and savagery. Anti-Semitism is on the rise world-wide. Last weekend, Hamas unleashed the worst evil Israel has seen within its sovereign borders, on Shemini Atzeret/Simchat Torah and on the English anniversary of the Yom Kippur war fifty years ago.

We, the Diaspora Jewish community, can and must help Israel now:

We must educate, if possible, those who are naive about Israel's rightful place in the Middle East. 

We must unite ourselves at a time when the very existence of Israel is in jeopardy. 

We must reach out to our brothers and sisters in Israel in solidarity.

We must give as much Tzedakah as we can.

We must communicate effectively with government leaders and media representatives.

We must pray - with the words of our Siddur, Scripture, or Psalms; or with the authentic cries from our hearts and souls.

Sadly, our Beth Emeth trip to Israel this Fall has been cancelled. It is just not safe for us to go, and it is unfair to expect those in Israel to look after us when their very lives are in peril. We hope to go soon after calm has been restored.

In the meantime, there is so much we can and must do. "Kol Yisrael Areivim Zeh La'Zeh - All the Jewish people are bound one to the other."

Rabbi Howard Morrison

The impermanent Sukkah - The impermanence of life

One of the overarching messages of the High Holy Days and Sukkot is the impermanence of life. The questions and prayers about mortality - who will live and die?; Who will we be inscribed and sealed in the book of life for this year? - continue into the messaging of Sukkot. The commandment to sit or dwell in a Sukkah surrounded by 2.5-4 walls but covered by flimsy schach which makes us vulnerable to a hot sun, cold rain, or other elements reminds us of how frail and impermanent human life is.

When I was a rabbinical student living in New York in the mid 1980's, I received a snail mail letter from my parents. There was no email or internet at the time. In the letter was a cut out from the local weekly Brookline magazine. The picture of a Sukkah which was pancaked to the ground by strong winds was the feature story. That was my childhood Sukkah which my family continued to build even when I lived elsewhere. Fortunately, the Sukkah collapsed late at night when nobody was inside of it at meal time.

The Sukkah is perhaps the ultimate symbol of life's impermanence. Human lives are like a Sukkah and can come and go at any time and are subject to larger forces they cannot control. Physical human made structures, like the Sukkah, are by definition impermanent.  In recent years, we have heard of building collapses ranging from the acts of evil on 9/11 to a large residential facility in Florida built on unsturdy foundations.

During Sukkot, we are commanded to celebrate more than any other Jewish holiday or occasion. Only Sukkot is called Zman Simchateinu - the season of our joy. The Torah contains the word for joy more so with Sukkot than with Pesach or Shavuot. The rituals of taking the four species, reciting a full Hallel every day, marching during Hoshanot all accentuate joy at this season of the year.

It seems to me that since the human condition is predicated on impermanence, we have to learn and be able to celebrate life in as full a way as possible. Easy? No! Necessary - Yes!

Chag Sameach!

Sukkot is the paradigm of Jewish unity. Consider the following:

The four species represent the totality of the Jewish people. The Etrog, with taste and smell, represents the Jew who is learned and performs good deeds. The Lulav, with taste but no smell, represents the Jew who is learned but does not perform good deeds. The Hadas (myrtle) with smell but no taste, represents the Jew who performs good deeds but is not learned. The Aravah (willow), with neither taste nor smell, represents the Jew who is neither learned nor performs good deeds.

The Sukkah - Ideally every Jew should be able to fit into one Sukkah. The Torah exclaims - "Kol Ezrach B'Yisrael Yaishvu B'Sukkot - Every citizen of Israel shall dwell in Sukkot." Since the spelling of Sukkot has the last vav spelled in diminutive form, the Sages suggest that the word Sukkot in this particular verse could refer to a single Sukkah. That must be one large Sukkah for all Jews to fit inside.

Hakhel - According to the Torah, and actualized in ancient times, every seven years the recitation of the Torah would be completed at the end of Sukkot. All of Israel - men, women, and children would gather together to hear this public Torah reading.

In modern Jewish life, it seems impossible for all Jews to gather for the experience of formal public prayer. In the spirit of decency, tolerance, and pluralism, there are models of Jewish religious diversity - from different kinds of Orthodoxy, Conservatism, Reform, Reconstructionism, and independent models of prayer based on different conceptions of Jewish law and contemporary demands. Thus, different kinds of synagogues pervade large and small communities. I personally pray that all of them should succeed. We need our Beth Emeth, Adath Israel, Temple Sinai, Holy Blossom, Darchei Noam, the Bayt, Chabad, Aish HaTorah, and other diverse models to succeed.

When I attended Boston University as a student in the late 1970's, every Friday night and Yom Tov, there would be separate Reform, Conservative, and Orthodox services in different rooms in the shared Hillel house, after which time, everyone gathered together for a sumptuous Kiddush dinner. Right now, at Rutgers University in New Jersey, hundreds of Jews participate, and three full time rabbis serve their needs, representing Reform, Conservative, and Orthodox.

This kind of tolerant pluralistic behavior is understood in much of North America, but not as much in Israel. Consider that the notion of two diverse religious areas at the Kotel in Jerusalem is still an ongoing challenge. While the Southern part of the Kotel called Robinson's Arch was designated years ago as a pluralistic, non-Orthodox, and egalitarian setting by the government, there seems to be a skirmish anytime a service takes place there, even though the main and more familiar Kotel area is known for having a Mechitza separating men from women during prayer.

Now, consider Tel Aviv, where much of the Israeli population is identified as Chiloni, or, secular. Since 2017, an opening Kol Nidrei service and a closing Neila service have been offered on Dizengoff street, the largest open area in the city. Until this year, amidst internal debate, a very loosely defined Mechitza has governed the prayer space. This year, amidst more controversy, the Mechitza was deemed as being unnecessary. On the one hand, Mechitza or not, this gathering brought large numbers of secular Israelis into the religious sphere of Yom Kippur . This year, however, the services held on the holiest day of the year were marred by terrible infighting and verbal slurs. What was intended as unity building resulted in more division between Jews, with one side blaming the other, from people on the street, to those in high government positions.

At first, I was tempted not to make this a sermon topic. I do not see a short- or long-term corrective to the problem. One aspect of society is looking for more religious pluralism such as we take for granted in the U.S. and Canada. However, another aspect of society is looking for more dictatorial religious fundamentalism.

While a solution may not be in the making, the teachings of Sukkot continue to remind us of an ideal and a time when all Jews unconditionally were bound one to the other;  when all Jews would gather together to hear the recitation of Torah; and when all Jews could proverbially gather in one Sukkah.

Shabbat Shalom and Chag Sameach.

In memory of the fiftieth anniversary of the Yom Kippur war

In one month's time, over twenty individuals representing Beth Emeth will visit Israel to celebrate her seventy-fifth year as a modern State. Our congregation is one of the most Zionistic synagogues I have ever known. We have young and old who, over the years, have toured, studied, served in the IDF, and made permanent Aliyah. In my twenty-three years of serving Beth Emeth, we have embarked on many tours of Israel, some centering around young families, some centering around mature individuals and couples, and some being multi-generational. Given the three years of the pandemic, the last time we as a shul went to Israel was in the Fall of 2015, when we devoted a week in Poland and a week primarily in Jerusalem. The next time is now. While the October-November tour of Israel will cover familiar and new sites, sightseeing is just part of our spiritual and moral purpose.

I believe that the values of Yom Kippur offer insight as to why we are going right after the Fall Festivals:

The Day of Atonement focuses on individual and collective repentance. We come to shul over these next twenty-five hours to repent as individuals. We come to RECOGNIZE our shortcomings over the past year, to express REMORSE and REGRET, to RECITE our mistakes, to make RESTITUTION with those we have harmed, and to RECONCILE broken relationships. The multiple R's in the model of repentance are directed toward our relationship with God and our relationships with those around us, with whom we should ideally approach even before the onset of Yom Kippur.

However, the model of repentance is far more than individualistic. Notice that the words of the Vidui (confession) are framed in the plural, like many other prayers we recite. "Ashamnu, Bagadnu, etc. - WE have been ARROGANT, WE have been BOASTFUL, etc." When we recite the short form, which offers one word from Aleph to Tav, and when we recite the long form which contains two lines for every Hebrew letter, there is no way we could have done all the wrong acts that are symbolized by all the words and phrases. We recite them all because we share a collective responsibility. The question is not so much are we innocent or guilty in the repentance prayers. Rather, do we feel a sense of responsibility to those around us.

Our connection to Israel, be it through visits, donations, and the like, is based on a shared collective responsibility  toward our brothers and sisters who live in Medinat Yisrael, the State of Israel

For some of us, our connection to Israel starts with God and our Torah. From Genesis chapter 12, God promised Israel to our people in the divine covenant with Abraham and Sarah. For others of us, our connection starts with Israel itself. A safe and secure Israel, first and foremost, enables one to freely and safely express how one identifies Jewishly.

I am saddened that Israel will always have external enemies just waiting to attack innocent men, women, and children. I will never forget that in early July, when we read the Torah portion of Pinchas,  several Israelis were severely injured by an act of terror on Pinchas Rosen street in Tel Aviv. Did we need larger numbers of victims or deaths for this recent act of terror to be taken seriously?

I am saddened that the world chooses not to understand why Israel must pro-actively remove terror cells from within its own country. Would any other country just sit around and do nothing?

I am saddened that there is a civil rift between political and ideological groups in Israel over judicial reform, much of which we in the Diaspora do not really comprehend. I am confident that smart leaders living in Israel will sort it out.

I am saddened that there is a growing rift between the Diaspora and Israel. I have read how members of one particular American liberal Jewish denomination find it difficult to speak positively about Israel at all these days.

I am saddened that some of my own North American colleagues have gone to Israel this Summer to take sides over internal debates. Personally, had I been in Israel during the Summer, I would have chosen to visit those injured from acts of terror before alligning myself in political debate.

It seems to me that in the spirit of collective repentance and responsibility we need to care about all of Israel, the ideologies with which we agree, and the ideologies with which we disagree. I lament the usage of such terms as settlers, occupiers, leftists, and other such terms which serve only to further sever and divide the Jewish people.

Yes - Modern Israel's 75^th year is fraught with all kinds of challenges. BUT -

 Has our Jewish people not overcome greater obstacles in 4000 years of Jewish history? 

Has our Jewish people not had it worse when there was no Jewish sovereignty in Israel for almost 2000 years, between 70CE and 1948?

At the end of the day, I am forever grateful for Medinat Yisrael, the State of Israel.

I am grateful that a Morrison family of six celebrated my Bar Mitzvah in Israel in 1973 - me, my three siblings, and my parents.

I am grateful that my rabbinical education required me to spend a year of study in Israel in 1983-84.

I am grateful to have escorted members of my first shul to Israel in 1991, members of my second shul in 1997, and members of my Beth Emeth family several times since my coming in 2000.

I am grateful to have visited my younger son on three occasions during the three years he voluntarily served in the IDF as a lone soldier after completing CHAT.

I am grateful to have studied in Israel during vacations and sabbaticals over the years.

I am grateful that our shul understands the moral imperative of enabling its rabbi to bring groups of Jews to Israel, and that over 20 of us will be going in a few weeks.

I am grateful to so many of you, here in shul and on our livestream. You have demonstrated your commitment to Israel in all kinds of ways. Over the years, members of Beth Emeth have exhibited Israel leadership through UJA-Federation, the State of Israel Bonds, Jewish National Fund, Bet Halochem, and much more.

Regardless of the many ways each of us chooses to identify our collective responsibility for Israel, tonight, we have the privilege of being asked to make an investment through the State of Israel Bonds.

Before the pandemic, our shul was one of the leading congregations in publicly supporting the purchase of Bonds. It is now time to reclaim that place. Please select any amount that is meaningful to you. More than the amount, it is the act of participating which is most important. The proceeds of Israel Bonds do not serve the interest groups of any particular political or ideological group in Israel. The proceeds enrich the lives of all Israelis by improving the infrastructure for daily life in Israel.

One of the many words whose numerology adds up to 75 is actually the name Micha, a Prophet in the Bible. The Hebrew letters Mem, Yud, Chaf Hay (40, 10, 20, 5) add up to 75. Sadly, Micha was among the Biblical Prophets who predicted the eventual destruction of Jerusalem during the First Temple period. One of his lessons, which we read as a Haftarah in the late Spring, contains one of the essential messages of all of Judaism:

"God has told you . . . what is good, and what the Lord requires of you:

1. to do justice
2. to love goodness
3. and to walk humbly with your God (Micha 6:8)."

Micha's words are a lesson to us all to refine our character as individuals, in our relationship with God and people, in our relationship with Israel, and in our relationship with the world.

Gmar Chatimah Tovah,
Rabbi Howard Morrison

CREATED IN THE IMAGE OF GOD

Rosh Hashanah is commonly referred to as the birthday of the world or the day on which the world was conceived. More specifically, our Sages understand that on Rosh Hashanah, humanity was created, with today commemorating the sixth day of creation, the birth of humanity. In Bereishit, Genesis 1, a strange verse describes the creation of humanity in the following words: "And God created man in God's image; in the image of God, God created man; male and female God created them." What is this verse saying? Was the first person a man? Was the first person a singular entity of man and woman? Was the first entity already two separate human beings, one male and one female? The text is strikingly ambiguous.

In the Midrash, ancient rabbinic interpretation, as in the commentary found in the Etz Hayim Chumash, "The first human being was actually a pair of twins attached to each other, one male and one female. God divided them and commanded them to reunite, to find the other person who will make them complete again, in order to reproduce and attain wholeness."

When we say that humanity, male and female, are created in God's image and likeness, we know that in Jewish tradition we have "many many" different conceptions of God, based on time, place, and circumstance. Some describe God in masculine terms: Our Father, our King, Man of war. Others describe God in feminine terms: The Shechina, feminine in dwelling presence; Compassionate One, from the word Harachaman, literally of the womb. In the second day Haftarah for Rosh Hashanah, God is described as a mother weeping over her exiled children. God is a composite of male and female attributes. So, of course, men and women are created equally in the image and likeness of God. Judaism teaches us that EVERYONE is made in the image of God and should be treated accordingly.

In recent years, we have all heard stories of people, some being members of our own families, who are struggling with their gender identification. There are those individuals who are phenotypically one sex but morphologically the other, or ambiguous. There are people who have complex genetic or biochemical realities that create tensions between their genetic makeup and their apparent gender. Sometimes this is resolved in favor of their genotype and sometimes in favor of their outward gender. Sometimes this resolution changes at puberty. These are hard cases that need nuance, balance, and medical expertise. Of course, every person needs to be dealt with kindness as they seek answers to many religious questions that a gender-ambiguous person has.

Over two thousand years ago, the ancient rabbis were aware of an individual whose sexual characteristics were indeterminate or obscured and whose gender was in a state of doubt, called a TUMTUM.

Over two thousand years ago, the ancient rabbis were aware that someone could display both male and female characteristics, called ANDROGYNOS.

Over two thousand years ago, the ancient rabbis understood that a transition could take place as one aged. A person who was identified as a female at birth but developed male characteristics later on was called AYLONIT.

Over two thousand years ago, the ancient rabbis understood that another transition could take place as one aged. A person who was identified as a male at birth but developed female characteristics later on was called SARIS.

Of course, the ancient rabbis understood male as ZACHAR and female as NEKEVAH.

For the ancient rabbis, these categories were not merely theoretical and abstract. For example, the ANDROGYNOS was not just a thing of the mythic past. The ANDROGYNOS was in fact a recognized gender category in their present, with both, male and female sex organs. The term appears no less than 32 times in the Mishnah and 283 times in the Talmud. Most of these citations consider how Jewish Law applies to one who has both, male and female sexual characteristics.

For example, in Mishnah Bikkurim 4:1, we read explicitly: "The ANDROGYNOS is in some ways like men, and in other ways, like women. In other ways, he is like men and women, and in others, he is like neither men nor women."

That the rabbis recognized non-binary categories of people is clear. That the rabbis were challenged with particular legal applications of Jewish law to non-binary categories of people is also clear. What is remarkable, however, is that over two thousand years ago, our great leaders, teachers, and rabbinic masters recognized a wide array of human diversity. They discussed the matters as reality, with openness, with love, with compassion, with understanding, with sympathy, and with empathy. In other words, the ancient rabbis were remarkably ahead of their time. They recognized and accepted a world of possibilities.

What about us today? Are we judgmental with pre-conceived notions of human diversity? How many of us were aware of the vastness I have shared today from within the canons of sacred Jewish literature? 

It is no accident that the Golden Rule of Judaism, the exact mid-point of the Torah, is the famous expression, "V'Ahavta L'Reacha Kamocha - Love the other as you love yourself (Leviticus 19:18)." Just as you and I do not want to be rejected, alienated, judged, or labeled, we should not do so to others, and definitely not in the name of religion. All people are to be loved and made to feel welcome. 

While the ancient rabbis understood gender to "largely" operate on a binary axis, they clearly understood that not everyone fit binary categories, and they even specified realistic categories for acknowledging specific differences.

May we learn true ideals for today from a tradition of true ideals from thousands of years ago.

I wish everyone Shanah Tovah U'Metukah - A sweet, healthy, good, and peaceful new year.
Rabbi Howard Morrison

The month of Elul is not only the last month of the year 5783. It is also a month of spiritual preparation in advance of 5784. Already from the outset of Elul, the Shofar is sounded at the end of daily morning services as a preparatory wake up call. Since the sounding of the Shofar is considered optional or customary during Elul, it is paused on the last day of Elul to distinguish it from the commandment of hearing the Shofar on Rosh Hashanah.

Also, at the outset of Elul, we began to recite Psalm 27 at evening and morning services. Every line resonates with High Holy Day themes. The Talmud interprets the opening line as follows: "The Lord is my light - Rosh Hashanah. The Lord is my salvation - Yom Kippur." Elsewhere, the Psalm makes reference to the Sukkah as a place where God protects us. The last line offers hope, faith, and strength, as we transition from one year to the next. The Psalm is recited through the very end of the Sukkot season.

It is customary throughout Elul to visit the graves of loved ones. A meaningful spiritual preparation for the new year is to take note of those who have guided us through our lives and who continue to inspire us even after their passing from this world.

Sephardim began to recite daily prayers of Selichot, forgiveness, from the outset of Elul. Thus, they recite penitential prayers for forty days, from Rosh Chodesh Elul through Yom Kippur. Moses stood atop Mount Sinai forty days to receive Torah and did so again after the episode of the golden calf. With Moses' second experience, forty days are associated with God's forgiveness of the Jewish people.

Ashkenazim begin to recite daily prayers of Selichot following the Shabbat preceding Rosh Hashanah. These prayers of penitence must begin no less than four days prior to Rosh Hashanah. Ashkenazim begin on a Saturday night following Shabbat for a number of reasons. The joy of the Shabbat just observed balances the serious mood of the Selichot prayers. In addition,  The Torah portion of Nitzavim-Vayelech contains variations of the word Teshuva-Repentance many times. The Talmud teaches us that when we are in need of divine forgiveness, we ought to recite the thirteen attributes of God's forgiving the People of Israel following the sin of the golden calf.

I invite you to join us at Beth Emeth this Saturday night. At 9PM, we will reflect on a number of prayers and readings for the new year. At 10PM, our new director of spiritual engagement, Cantor Ron Donenfeld, will lead us in a traditional Selichot service.

Shabbat Shalom and Shana Tova U'Metuka - A good and sweet new year,
Rabbi Howard Morrison

On Sunday, I watched the new film entitled, Golda, starring Helen Mirren. How appropriate that the movie was released in theaters mere weeks prior to the fiftieth anniversary of the Yom Kippur war.  I found the movie certainly worth seeing, realistic, and edgy. Even more so, however, the movie brought me back to where I was on that Yom Kippur day almost fifty years ago.

I remember sitting as a thirteen-year-old with my dad in my childhood Orthodox shul. We sat near the back of the sanctuary, as my dad was also one of the designated ushers by the sanctuary entrance. During the mid-morning of services, an Israeli man, not a shul member, interacted with my dad at the sanctuary door. The man was certainly not Orthodox. He mentioned to my dad that he had driven to shul and heard on the car radio the terrible events that were transpiring in Israel and insisted on speaking with the rabbi at that precise moment, even while prayers were being recited.  Without a moment of hesitation, my father escorted this individual to the rabbi at the Bima. The rabbi interrupted his davening to listen to this man. Seconds later, the rabbi correctly paused the service, shared what he had heard with the congregation, and special Psalms of spiritual reflection were instantly inserted into the service.

I remember these events like yesterday, and which were conjured up quickly while watching the movie, Golda. I am sure that anyone my age or older knows where we were when we learned about the Yom Kippur war.

The film also reminds me that our Diaspora Jewish connection with Israel must be for and with the entire nation of Israel and not merely with a particular political party or religious denomination. 

Watching Golda felt like a proper spiritual act as we have recently ushered in the month of Elul, a time of personal and national introspection prior to the onset of the High Holy Days.

I look forward to seeing you this coming Shabbat, at which time Rosh Hashanah will be two weeks away.

Sincerely,
Rabbi Howard Morrison

This past Thursday was Tisha B'Av, the saddest day on the Jewish calendar. During the two ancient Temple periods, this period of the year was filled with internal strife and division among the Jewish people. During the first Temple period, Jews were committing acts of bloodshed among each other, acts of promiscuity, and acts of idolatry. During the second Temple period, Jews were divided along political and religious lines, often informing on each other to the Roman authorities. There was senseless hatred among our people. The internal divisions left our people vulnerable and fragile, leaving it easy for the Babylonians and subsequently the Romans to plunder Jerusalem and exile our people.

This year, two and a half days prior to Tisha B'Av, a Knesset vote of 64-0, which really would have been more like 64-56 without a boycott, has left our idyllic Israel fragile and vulnerable. Can you imagine an IDF where reservists are refusing to serve? It is not for me to judge or fully understand Israel's Parliamentary system. I have read many articles from different perspectives. Did the Supreme Court have too much power that the government could not make decisions and carry them out? Does the government now have too much power without the necessary checks and balances coming from the courts? Was the Supreme Court's use of "reasonableness" as a legal check on Government appointments and plans applied too broadly or not?

What I do know from history is that when the Jewish people are not united, we are weakened internally within ourselves and externally to the threats of foes around us. These matters concern me the most. Was there no way to pause further? To not find a way where different viewpoints could find enough common ground? Is it true that Israel has not been this divided since the events leading up to and including the assassination of Yitzchak Rabin?

The Shabbat following Tisha B'Av is called Shabbat Nachamu, the Sabbath of comfort. The Prophet Isaiah, after the fall of the first Temple, cries out to God, "Comfort, comfort my people." I am not a prophet, but I too call out to God today, "Comfort, comfort my people. The Jewish people need to take a deep breath, find some comfort after this past week, begin to heal, and hopefully find ways to reunite and re-energize ourselves.

Perhaps today's Parsha has come at the right time. In the final chapter of his life, Moses stands over the promised land and has his people come back to basics. In the Parsha today, we have read for a second time the Ten Commandments. We have read the Shma. We have read the words we recite when the Torah scroll is lifted, "And this is the Torah which Moses placed before the Children of Israel."

All Jews are equal recipients of our Torah and our tradition. May we find common place in our heritage to utilize the upcoming seven weeks of comfort and be renewed, even as we will soon renew another year on the Jewish calendar.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Howard Morrison

This coming Shabbat, we conclude the book of B'Midbar, the book of Numbers. On the secular calendar, the date is July 15th, which coincides with my father's birthday. Ruben Morrison, of blessed memory, was born in the Bronx on July 15, 1927. He passed away on June 7, 1999 at the age of 71. 

The book of B'Midbar is the ultimate book of journeys in the Torah. Most of the forty-year journey experience shared by the Israelites is described in B'Midbar, with the nation of Israel poised on the threshold of the Promised Land by the end of this Shabbat's Torah reading.

Parshat Masei, the last portion of B'Midbar, enumerates the halting places made along the journey. According to Rashi, this enumeration points to the acts of lovingkindness performed by God at each place along the way.

My dad made many stops along his journey of life, guided by God at each place. The third oldest of six brothers, my dad and two younger brothers were raised primarily by an Orthodox foster family in the Bronx. Dad developed a passion for tall ships and for antique tools, especially the Stanley Company metal planes from the late 1800's to the early 1900's. My father earned his college degree in Boston in the field of construction engineering. Over the years, he worked for two Boston area construction companies and served as the project manager for many projects in the city. Perhaps most notable was the Devonshire, a large skyscraper in the heart of downtown Boston.

Dad met and married a Boston area native, my mom, Helen, of blessed memory. Ironically, she passed away on Rosh Hashanah 1999, just three months after dad died. They were married in 1954 and went on to raise four children, including myself. 

While my father worked long hours during the week, we always sat as a family for Shabbat Friday night dinner. Dad was actively involved, as was mom, at the Young Israel of Brookline. Together, they enabled all four kids to attend the Maimonides Day School from grades K-12. 

Dad was blessed with four grandsons. The youngest was born after his passing. The third youngest, my nephew, was born mere months before my father died. My brother made sure that Zayde and grandson had an interaction while dad was very ill. That grandson will be getting married this coming mid-August almost exactly a month following dad's birthday.

What an incredible journey - From poor biological parents, to an orphanage for a short time, to a foster family, to a new life in the Boston area, to a love of wife and family, to an ongoing commitment to his Jewish heritage, to two interesting hobbies, and more - my father had an amazing journey in this world. 

Inasmuch as I recite Kaddish on his Yahrzeit; inasmuch as I remember him every day; I will pause this Shabbat to celebrate what would have been dad's ninety-sixth birthday.

Dad- Yom Huledet Sameach (Happy Birthday), and may your memory continue to always be a blessing.

Love,
Howie

As a dual citizen of the U.S. and Canada, I have the privilege of celebrating Canada Day on July 1 and American Independence Day on July 4. While both occasions are celebrated with fireworks, barbecues, and more, we ought never take for granted the importance of freedom and our mandate to preserve it.

From the inception of Jewish history, our people have tragically known what it is like not to be and free and to be persecuted by others. The Jewish people have had to ensure the slavery of Biblical Egypt. We have had to endure the oppressions of many different empires in antiquity, such as the Hellenistic and Roman Empires. We have had to endure medieval forms of hatred perpetrated against us during the Crusades, the Inquisition, and pogroms. We have had to endure the atrocities of the Shoah, and we have had to endure contemporary forms of terrorism and anti-Semitism. Is it any wonder that we Jews enthusiastically celebrate the weekly Shabbat, the annual Festival of Passover (called "the season of our freedom") and Yom Ha'Atzmaut ("Israel Independence Day")! We celebrate our freedom because we know what it means not to be free.

In Canada and in the U.S. this coming week, we should go beyond attending fireworks and barbecues. While there is much more progress that needs to be made, we should pause and be grateful for the freedoms we have living in North America. It is proper that many synagogues, including Beth Emeth, recite a prayer for Canada during Shabbat services. Even two thousand years ago, our ancient Sages saw the merit of living under the auspices of a civilized government. In the Ethics of the Sages, we learn:

"Pray for the welfare of the Government, for if people did not have awe for it, they would swallow each other alive (Pirkei Avot 3:2)."

I wish everyone a healthy, joyous, and meaningful Canada Day and Fourth of July.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Howard Morrison

In today's Parsha, Miriam speaks to Aaron against Moses' life choices. "He married a Cushite woman." Our tradition identifies this woman as either Tzipporah, Moses' wife in Exodus, or perhaps a different wife from Egypt. Regardless, this woman is perceived by Miriam as being an outsider, looks different, and is not worthy of marrying Moses or being a member of the Jewish people. Whether it is her religion, color, orientation, or some other supposed fault, her "otherness" is too much for Miriam to accept.

While Judaism is a tradition based on boundaries, sometimes, we become too exclusionary in our attitudes when we need to be more inclusionary. Perhaps this is the lesson Miriam needs to learn in our Parsha today. As we read in the Torah text, Miriam is stricken with Tzaraat, the scaly skin ailment associated with the punishment for slander and gossip. Miriam was shut out of the camp for seven days, and the people did not march forward until Miriam was readmitted. Miriam was forced outside the very boundaries she was attempting to erect and enforce.

Perhaps the seven day exclusion of Miriam was meant to give her time to rethink her attitudes and to transform her experience of exclusion into a lesson of inclusion not only for herself, but for others who identify with the Jewish people, but who may be perceived by themselves or others as being "outsiders." For the Israelite community to move forward, it was not for Moses or his wife, but Miriam who had to temporarily leave the community - a lesson in radical inclusivity.

As we know, June is Pride awareness month. This month and today's Parsha contain lessons that all identified Jews, LGBTQ and otherwise, must know that they are included within the Jewish community. Inclusivity is a lesson for those who perceive themselves as "inside" and those who perceive themselves as "outside" to reflect upon and understand. 

When I was a rabbinical student in New York back in the 1980's, I was troubled that there was a synagogue in lower Manhattan designed specifically for the gay and lesbian Jewish community. I had always thought and still do that a synagogue is for all Jews, unconditionally. Friends who I had made from that particular congregation had taught me that they were all too often made to feel uncomfortable in the so-called normative synagogues and had no choice.

Forty plus years later, how far have we come? Are all Jews welcome in our synagogues regardless of ideology, skin color, sexual persuasion, and otherwise? 

We may do well to understand what Miriam had to understand, in a Biblical story from over 3500 years ago, in which she had to be excluded in order to learn about being included!

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Howard Morrison

On behalf of myself personally and on behalf of our synagogue, I wish to extend a Mazel Tov to all of our Beth Emeth graduates who are completing elementary, middle school, high school, and university programs. I hope that you will stay connected to our shul community, and we  at the shul look forward to staying connected with you.

It is noteworthy that our Torah portion this week, B'ha'alotecha, contains a vivid description of the Israelites' journey experiences in the wilderness. Of note is the mention that the Ark of the covenant led the way from place to place.

All of our graduates are completing one phase of their journey in life only to enter the next phase of their journey in life. May your Jewish values guide you, as the Torah has guided our people for thousands of years.

I wish you and your family Mazel Tov on your accomplishments, and Hatzlacha (success) on your future endeavors.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Howard Morrison