September 6, 2024 - 3 Elul 5784 Parasha Shoftim - Out of the Darkness Comes Light
Dear Friends, At long last! I am very excited to join you officially this coming Shabbat as your new rabbi! I'm tremendously grateful for the opportunity to serve the warm and welcoming community of CBIOTP, to pray and study and grow with this Kehila Kedosha (sacred community). My family and I are very much looking forward to beginning our journey together this Shabbat and bringing in the new year of 5785 with joy and meaning with all of you. As I write this, we have begun the month of Elul, a time to look inward, and a time I always find myself deeply engaged in the words of our liturgy. At the end of the Aleinu prayer, we look towards and yearn for a better, brighter future: ביום ההיא יהיה יי אחד- ושמו אחד.
On that day, God shall be one, and [God's] name shall be one. A reading that followed in the Siddur (prayer book) I grew up with seemed to pick up where that liturgical thought left off, moving solemnly towards the Mourner's Kaddish, missing only the words "yet" or "but:" "It is hard to sing of oneness when the world is not yet complete." All the more so for the Jewish people these last few days. It was hard to celebrate the long weekend, to procrastinate summer vacation by one more day, when the devastating news broke of six Israeli captives of the last 11 months murdered in cold blood by Hamas. It was hard to enjoy the company of loved ones over food and drink, knowing that six Israeli families would never see theirs again. It was hard to observe Labor Day -- a needed moment of unity and American pride in a fractured nation, gifted us each September by our civic calendar -- hearing soul-crushing eulogies poured out of broken hearts, watching an entire nation of our extended Jewish family grieving, crying, their eyes and arms raised defiantly, despairingly towards the heavens, asking God why this happened. What should have been a day for celebration, both here and in Israel, as all our children were preparing to return to school, was instead a day of mourning, of burial and loss. Of reciting the Mourner's Kaddish. "It is hard to sing of oneness when the world is not yet complete." The nation of Israel, the Jewish people, and lovers of Zion and peace everywhere shed tears, tore ribbons, lit candles, and carried flags for those brutally taken from our world this past weekend:
As we enter the introspective month of Elul, preparing our spirits for Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur, engaging in the deep soul-searching of Cheshbon Ha-Nefesh (חשבון הנפש) (accounting of the soul), we read in Parshat Shoftim: “Tzedek, Tzedek Tirdof (צדק צדק תרדוף) (Justice, justice, shall you pursue.)" The rare repetition of the word underscores its significance, its place as a fundamental value within our tradition. Though we may differ in exactly how we get there, we are commanded to seek it and pursue it. Even when we are focused internally on improving ourselves, on coming into the new year the best versions of ourselves, we can never relinquish the struggle for justice. Even when the tragedies of Jewish existence nearly crush our spirits, we can never give up Hatikvah, the hope of a day when God shall be one, and God's name shall be one. The hope of justice and peace. As Rachel Goldberg shared in her breathtaking, heart-rending eulogy for her beloved son: "Help shower us with healing and resilience. Help us to rise again. I know it will take a long time, but please, may God bless us that one day, one fine day, [we] will hear laughter, and we will turn around and see: it's us. And that we're okay." Zichronam livracha. (זיכרונו לברכה ) May the memories of Ori, Carmel, Hersh, Alexander, Almog, and Eden be for a blessing. A blessing of justice. A blessing of peace. The blessing of a better day for us all. And let us make it so. Shabbat Shalom, Rabbi Joshua Strom
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