Hanukkah Aglow: The Hidden Hanukkiah of Hogschwartz

This script was written for Wilshire Boulevard Temple’s annual Chanukah Aglow, a show and celebration. Jeff collaborated on this script with Cantor Aliya Stuart and Skylar Falgout. 

Shabbat Message for Wilshire Boulevard Temple

Every Wednesday and Sunday, I lead tefillah for the students at Brawerman East and Religious School. We always begin services the same way. After an opening song or two, we acknowledge the nissim b’chol yom, the daily miracles. Our prayer book includes a list of all of the miracles we thank God for working every day, and the formula for how to do it. The blessings we acknowledge include giving strength to the weary, freeing the captive, and our creation in the image of God.

With our students, we often do it a little differently. We start with the blessing formula - Baruch Atah, Adonai Eloheinu, Melech HaOlam…but then we invite them to share the things that they are grateful for on that given morning. We join together after each one with the word “Amen.” Sometimes the things our students share stop me in my tracks with their depth and sophistication. There is a certain holiness in the earnest answer from a kindergarten child when he says “for my whole family and school that love me,” or from a third grader when she says “I’m grateful I got to wake up and see the sun today!” Even the (maybe not so) silly responses about the new video game or Lebron James’ dominance of the league are wonderful to me. Every time someone brings even an ounce of real joy and goodness into our lives is a miracle and a blessing. 

Our Torah portion this week, Ki Tavo, is weighty with discussions of blessings as rewards for following God’s commandments, and curses that will allegedly befall the Israelites if they disobey. Although the blessings promised are fantastic and motivating, the Torah gives us an even longer list of curses that are even more horrible than the blessings are good. These days, as individuals, as Americans, and as Jews, we might sometimes feel that we are living through that long list of curses. I know often that’s what it feels like to me. 

After that long list of curses in this week’s parsha, Moses reminds the Israelites about their journey, and about the wonders and miracles that they saw with their own eyes along the way.

This is why I am so grateful to be able to work with the youth of our community. They remind me every week to pay attention to the abundance of blessings in the world. Our students are wise beyond their years; they know that there are curses out there in the world, but they allow themselves to focus on the blessings. Their eyes are the ones with which we must try to see our lives! 

Every Wednesday and Sunday, I think our students teach us what Moses taught. Let us hear Moses, and let us hear our children. We too have traveled and remain on the winding journey of life, and we too have seen wonders and miracles. 

When I listen to these students I remember my own miraculous blessings: that I get to love and be loved by my wife, Meg, that we get to take care of and play with our adorable dog, Manischewitz, and that I get to immerse myself deeply in Judaism and Jewish tradition as I embark on my final year of study to become a Rabbi. Each of these are daily blessings for which I am eternally grateful.

As Rosh Hashanah approaches ever closer, may we remember the lesson that Moses and our students teach us, so that in this new year we will see many, many more. May this be a Shabbat of blessing, and may the new year be one filled with small miracles (and maybe some big ones too!).

Shabbat Shalom,

Jeff Silverstein - Rabbinic Intern 

5th year sermon: Parashat Ki Tavo

Sometimes, because I teach 7th grade religious school, I get to use memes as an educational tool.  For the uninitiated, Oxford Languages defines a meme as “an image, video, piece of text, etc., typically humorous in nature, that is copied and spread rapidly by internet users, often with slight variations.” 

I bet we’ve all seen something like this, but here’s an example of one with which I think we can all deeply resonate. (please reach under your chairs)  This is a photograph shot through the front windshield of a car that features a cow flying through the air a la Twister…The caption reads: “I’d normally ask a question, but it’s 2020 so I’ll just keep driving.”

If my memory serves correctly, I think that would be a fair response in 2020. I also think it would be a fair and understandable reaction in 2024. For many, both of these years and the ones in between feel like they have been full of curses. For the last few years we have collectively experienced calamity, panic, and frustration. Our rain has turned to dust, we have been stricken with disease, we have been put to rout before our enemies. We are all but driven mad by what our eyes behold. It feels like our global circumstances rhyme too well with the curses in this week’s parsha, Ki Tavo. The curses rhyme, but the causes are dissonant. 

In Ki Tavo, Moses and God present a short list of blessings and an extensive list of curses to the Israelites as the future consequence for how faithfully they would or would not follow God’s commandments. I do not believe that the theology of divine reward and punishment, as the Torah describes it, is true to the nature of God or the universe. Instead, I propose that there is a system of human-divine partnership through which we must act blessings into the world. 

We must understand that when God, through Moses, said (and I’m paraphrasing) “If you do these commandments, you will be blessed,” it was not a promise of something that God would DO for us, but rather a true statement of cause and effect. Blessings only come by our striving to make them happen, as the natural effects of fulfilled commandments. To receive blessings takes a great deal of effort. No wonder the list of curses is so long. Curses don’t require anything of us.

Two summers ago I completed a unit of CPE at Children’s Hospital here in LA, where I saw some pretty awful curses. When my patients arrived in the hospital, often the curse that brought them there happened in an instant, and always by accident. The miraculous process by which two sets of DNA combine into one and replicate into a growing and changing human being requires near-infinite perfection and, for perhaps no real or comforting reason, things can sometimes go wrong. It is not fair nor just. It’s life, which means that sometimes, tragically, it’s also death.  

During my summer at CHLA one of my long-term patients died, but I wasn’t there when it happened. She was an infant who had lived her few precious months in need of a liver transplant due to liver failure. This patient happened to be Jewish, which meant that it was my job to bring her family their weekly shabbat kit from Chai Lifeline. The last Friday before she died, I brought the kit and had a brief but meaningful chat with her father. He told me that there was good news, that there might be a liver for his daughter. She was first on the list and there was some discussion with their medical team that they should be ready to shift into transplant prep mode. He was cautiously optimistic, but very aware of the very real possibility that she might not survive the surgery. We prayed for good outcomes and for his wife’s well-being in all of their tzuris and strife, and I went home for the weekend.

As soon as I walked back into the spiritual care department on Monday morning, I learned from a colleague that there had been a liver for my patient, but that after it arrived, final testing determined that it was not a viable organ. After the physical stress of surgical prep, my patient took a turn for the worse and was transferred to the NICU, where she spent the next 24 hours until she passed away on Sunday. Sometimes, despite our best efforts at making blessings, curses come anyway. All the more so, then, blessings need us to bring them, and they are awe-inspiring to witness when they come to fruition. 

During that summer another baby girl, just 20 months old, received a bone-marrow transplant from her father after eight months in the hospital waiting to be strong enough to receive it. I met with her family twice on purpose, in their room, and once by accident when I ran into them in the hallway downstairs. That time,  mom, dad and baby were all together, and they had their car keys out. They were headed home from a follow-up appointment. The blessing of a child returning home healthy is monumental, and it takes a monumental effort to keep the curses at bay.

It is not lost on me that the blessings I experienced directly and vicariously as a chaplain were the sum of specifically human effort. I do believe that God is involved, in ways that are and will remain imperceptible, but I am convinced that if we want blessings, we are required to act. 

How, though, are we meant to act for maximum blessing? How do we know where to start? If we were not Reform Jews, we might believe that the answer is to go right back into the text and try to figure out which commandments we are failing to properly uphold. We are reform Jews and this is not our theology…but I still think we may need to go back into Torah. However, when we look deeply in our texts it is not to find some fatal error, but rather it is to find guidance towards tangible, positive acts of blessing.

In her chapter titled “Radically Free and Radically Claimed,” Rabbi and scholar Dr. Rachel Sabath Beit-Halachmi considers the ways that Liberal Jewish theology must evolve in our time. She describes several interrelated ideas and phenomena that we must take into consideration while developing our new theology. The study of Torah is what ties all of these ideas together. She writes that, “The study of canonical texts must continue to be the ground from which all Jewish ideas spring.” This means that when we innovate new ways to participate in the living practice of Judaism, those ways must remain connected to our fundamental texts and traditions.

Rabbi Sabath Beit-Halachmi also notes the phenomenon of Reform Jewish commitment to Tikkun Olam (repairing of the world). Tikkun Olam, as a concept and value, is often spoken together with a set of words from all over The Torah: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” These two ideas are often held up as representative of the Jewish moral values that will allow us to bring about the most and highest degree of blessing in the world. This may be true, but without rich layers of interpretation of their source, we may find that both are limited to the realm of buzzwords. How do we bring these words off of posters and protests signs and into the tangible work of our hands and hearts?

To help us locate ourselves in the search, we might look to medieval rabbi (and specified genius) Saadia HaGaon, who wrote that there are two classes of Law in Judaism: Rational laws that fit within reason and laws that do not. Within the category of laws that comply with Reason, there are three groups, the third of which includes laws that relate to justice, equity, kindness, and “loving our neighbors.” 

When we consider following commandments with an intention to bring blessings into the world, this third category of rational law must be the locus of our focus. This category contains the commandments that, with thoughtful contemporary interpretation, can give voice to what we mean when we say “Tikun Olam” and “Love your neighbor.”  With these laws we might answer questions that we often ask ourselves: What tools can I use to make the repairs implied by Tikkun Olam? If we are meant to love our neighbors as ourselves…how? How do we actually bring blessings into the world?

At least one of the answers is in the very parsha we study this week! We learn in Deuteronomy chapter 26 that, once the people are brought into the land, they will become responsible to tithe their produce to share with the levite, the stranger, the orphan and the widow. No matter that we are not in the land and, I would guess most of us here are a little light on our farm experience, we can interpret this verse and find ways to carry forward the inherent blessings in the commandment! 

Sharing our food repairs part of the world by forming community across classes to prevent isolation, and it fills in the empty space in the stomachs of the hungry, so that all can thrive through the bounty of the literal fruits of God’s world. This commandment tells us we must participate in or create the financial or physical acts of service that will contribute to feeding hungry people in our own communities. This commandment to share also tells us about loving our neighbors. 

The Ramban explains that the commandment to love our neighbors as ourselves is not possible in a literal sense. Rather, one is commanded to want for our neighbor what we want for ourselves. To feed another from our own fruits is a tangible way to demonstrate that type of want and mutual support. To feed another is to give them the blessing of life. 

When I worked at Children’s Hospital, active interpretation of our traditions is what helped me to be an active blesser, even when it felt like I was drowning in curses. I studied the idea of Bikur Cholim, a rabbinic innovation that suggests that one of the acts we are obligated to in this world is to visit the sick. 

I did not and do not feel bound by the legal requirements dreamt up by our Talmudic and medieval sages, but I was able to use the laws to guide my practice. For example, the Rambam writes that the commandment is not fulfilled if the visitor does not pray for the sick person. I took this guidance to heart, considered the meaning within the act of praying on behalf of a patient or with a patient, and also thought about the practical concerns that might make it impossible or uncouth to pray for a patient. 

With the original text in mind, with consciousness to the nature of the environment of the hospital, and with attunement to patients’ individual needs, I was able to participate in bikur cholim in a way that paid dividends in blessings to me and, I pray, to my patients as well.

 This is the method which I want to suggest to all of us today, but more so I want to invite us to share with our communities. It may be obvious to us here, at the Hebrew Union College, that commandments require our engagement, but we must also encourage this practice by the individuals in the communities we serve. None of us should shy away from the broad or deep study of our Jewish canon, especially not because of our lack of halakhic obligation. Rather, in the spirit of Rabbi Sabath Beit-Halachmi, we must help the people whom we serve feel as so many of us do: radically claimed by our peoplehood and tradition. 

Let us remind ourselves and them that some acts and commandments are worth fulfilling, Im lo lmaaneinu, lmaan re’einu ulmaan hashem. If not for our own sake, then for the sake of our neighbor, and for the sake of God. I truly believe that if we commit ourselves to acting with the intention to bring blessings to the world, and we base those actions in our Judaism, we can bring about a world in which the list of our blessings far exceeds the list of curses, and where a flying cow would once again stop us in our tracks. May this be our will. 

Righting American Wrongs: EJI Community Remembrance Projects as a Form of Teshuva

When Jewish people do teshuva, we react to a situation that has passed and think forward to the future. We apologize for things that we did and hope not to do again; we seek justice and assurance after harm has been done to us. Maimonides’ Hilchot Teshuva describes specific steps for how and when to address wrongdoing after the fact. Less clear is how one should respond to situations that, despite transforming over time, are ongoing. How would one do teshuva for an act in which they continue to participate of from which they continue to benefit? Should one do teshuva for an act from which they benefit but in which they did not actually participate? 

From the other side, how can a person forgive somebody before they have received apology or compensation? Can a person even render forgiveness on another’s behalf, or if they are still being victimized on some level? Further, how does one address reverberating harms even when the perpetrators and victims alike may no longer be alive? These, and countless others, are questions with which one must wrestle to address the long and enduring history of racial injustice and inequality in the United States. Though they do not use the words and concepts, the Equal Justice Initiative engages these questions and the spirit of (albeit complex) teshuva through their work. 

The Equal Justice Initiative (EJI) was founded in 1989 by Bryan Stevenson, whose life and work are represented in the 2019 film, Just Mercy, based off of his 2014 memoir of the same name. The story follows Stevenson in his early career as a lawyer as he works, and ultimately succeeds, to overturn the wrongful conviction and death sentence for Walter McMillian. This type of work is what EJI was founded for. In their own words, EJI “…provides legal representation to people who have been illegally convicted, unfairly sentenced, or abused in state jails and prisons. We challenge the death penalty and excessive punishment, and we provide re-entry assistance to formerly incarcerated people.”[1] EJI also publishes studies, including a groundbreaking 2015 report on the lynching of thousands of African Americans in the American South. The report not only uncovered the crimes themselves, but also provided important insight into the long-term effects of racialized violence on the African American community. 

That insight and understanding informs and animates another main sector of EJI’s work: the Community Remembrance Project.  EJI seeks to address the legacy of racial violence and injustice by offering communities the chance at reconciliation with past harms by engaging in a variety of historical legacy projects. Foundational to this work is the belief in the criticality of communities grappling with their own history and the way that the past continues to shape the present, as they state on their site: “We believe that understanding the era of racial terror is critical if we are to confront its legacies in the challenges that we currently face from mass incarceration, excessive punishment, unjustified police violence and the presumption of guilt and dangerousness that burdens many people of color.” [2]

So how does the Community Remembrance Project work? There are multiple ways in which a community can participate in the Project, each of which contains multiple steps which require involvement from multiple levels of stakeholders. The first step in any initiative is an “Intentional Community Assessment” through which several questions are considered, including: “what similar initiatives are taking place,” and “has the legacy of racial terror been acknowledged in our community within the last decade?” Once those questions are answered, committees are encouraged to consider the history of the communities, the legacy, and why the current moment is right to discuss it. Through this process, communities decide on what form their project will take. The options are diverse and range from reflective gatherings, panel discussions, and film screenings to local historical exhibits and the erection of permanent narrative historical markers. [3]

But does a discussion or a memorial constitute teshuva? The crux of EJI’s work is to learn about and from past injustice in order to commit to and enact change. I believe this form of learning and growth, combined with reconciliation, is spiritually and practically aligned with our understanding of teshuva, even though the question of whether we can we do teshuva on behalf of somebody else still lingers. 

It seems obvious that the Community Remembrance Project does not, nor can it, directly follow the method of teshuva laid out by Maimonides. Not only are the victims of slavery and of lynching no longer living, but the slavers and vast majority of vigilantes who perpetrated racial terror have also died. That does not preclude the work EJI does from being true to the spirit of teshuva, or even directly applicable under some of the various halachot on which Maimonides expounds. Though the individuals who are responsible for initiating and carrying out these community projects are much more likely descendants of perpetrators and victims, I will explain my case working off of the assumption that these individuals have taken the responsibility for reconciliation and progress unto themselves and will consider how their actions do relate to the Rambam’s teshuva.

The early stages of community remembrance projects and the first required step towards teshuva are intertwined. Through the process of learning, communities are enabled to overcome silence. This is aligned with what we know about teshuva; the first step is acknowledging what occurred out loud. The process and source for verbal confession are appropriately introduced in the first halacha of Hilchot Teshuva.   

  כָּל מִצְוֹת שֶׁבַּתּוֹרָה בֵּין עֲשֵׂה בֵּין לֹא תַּעֲשֶׂה אִם עָבַר אָדָם עַל אַחַת מֵהֶן בֵּין בְּזָדוֹן בֵּין בִּשְׁגָגָה כְּשֶׁיַּעֲשֶׂה תְּשׁוּבָה וְיָשׁוּב מֵחֶטְאוֹ חַיָּב לְהִתְוַדּוֹת לִפְנֵי הָאֵל בָּרוּךְ הוּא שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר (במדבר ה ו) "אִישׁ אוֹ אִשָּׁה כִּי יַעֲשׂוּ" וְגוֹ' (במדבר ה ז) "וְהִתְוַדּוּ אֶת חַטָּאתָם אֲשֶׁר עָשׂוּ" זֶה וִדּוּי דְּבָרִים. וִדּוּי זֶה מִצְוַת עֲשֵׂה וגו׳...

If a person transgresses any of the mitzvot of the Torah, whether a positive command or a negative command - whether willingly or inadvertently - when he repents, and returns from his sin, he must confess before God, blessed be He, as [Numbers 5:6-7] states: "If a man or a woman commit any of the sins of man... they must confess the sin that they committed." This refers to a verbal confession. This confession is a positive command.[4]

The text continues, clarifying the basic formula for confession: 

כֵּיצַד מִתְוַדִּין. אוֹמֵר אָנָּא הַשֵּׁם חָטָאתִי עָוִיתִי פָּשַׁעְתִּי לְפָנֶיךָ וְעָשִׂיתִי כָּךְ וְכָךְ וַהֲרֵי נִחַמְתִּי וּבֹשְׁתִּי בְּמַעֲשַׂי וּלְעוֹלָם אֵינִי חוֹזֵר לְדָבָר זֶה. 

How does one confess: He states: "I implore You, God, I sinned, I transgressed, I committed iniquity before You by doing the following. Behold, I regret and am embarrassed for my deeds. I promise never to return to this act again."

This halacha is connected to the Community Remembrance Project both through the surface level idea of confession or reporting and the deeper conditions necessary to enact the first part of teshuva. Before one can confess, whether the transgression was intentional or accidental, one must be aware of the transgression. As such, before the specific form of any project is finalized or established, committees must engage in a learning process, gaining deep knowledge about their local history and its connections to broader racial dynamics, and the legacy of the harm on their community. Once they collect the information, it becomes possible to choose the most appropriate and effective plan to communicate their findings to the public. The chosen project may even contain multiple forms of expression and exhibition, which is also supported by the halacha, which states clearly that one who elaborates in their confession is praiseworthy. 

The third halacha in the first chapter also speaks (though indirectly) to this issue of memorialization rather than true confession as part of teshuva. 

בַּזְּמַן הַזֶּה שֶׁאֵין בֵּית הַמִּקְדָּשׁ קַיָּם וְאֵין לָנוּ מִזְבַּח כַּפָּרָה אֵין שָׁם אֶלָּא תְּשׁוּבָה.

At present, when the Temple does not exist and there is no altar of atonement, there remains nothing else aside from Teshuvah.

Although teshuva was allegedly also a part of temple life, the effect of Maimonides’ point here indicates that a community can adapt their customs based on the available resources. Memorials, exhibits, conversations, and group effort towards lasting change are the tools that are available to many of the counties to seek reconciliation. This work does not mirror the halacha but exists in the spirit of seeking forgiveness through holy means. 

The issue of confession is further discussed throughout Hilchot Teshuva, though the consequence found in the fifth halacha of the second chapter seems directly applicable to goal of the Community Remembrance Project in preventing future harms. 

וְכָל הַמִּתְגָּאֶה וְאֵינוֹ מוֹדִיעַ אֶלָּא מְכַסֶּה פְּשָׁעָיו אֵין תְּשׁוּבָתוֹ גְּמוּרָה שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר ׳׳מְכַסֶּה פְשָׁעָיו לֹא יַצְלִיחַ.׳׳ בַּמֶּה דְּבָרִים אֲמוּרִים בַּעֲבֵרוֹת שֶׁבֵּין אָדָם לַחֲבֵרוֹ...

Anyone who, out of pride, conceals his sins and does not reveal them will not achieve complete repentance as [Proverbs 28:13] states: "He who conceals his sins will not succeed." When does the above apply? In regard to sins between man and man.

Though the halacha specifically cites pride as the reason one might conceal transgressions, one could expand it to include other self-centering reasons. Communities who engage in remembrance projects may be reluctant to expose the past for any number of reasons. EJI and the Rambam seem to agree that by not disclosing the sins of the past, full teshuva or reconciliation would be impossible. Further, this halacha is relevant because of the specificity of the parties involved with the sin; transgressions between human beings describes the essential nature of the historical legacy of racial injustice and violence. 

The opening of chapter two also speaks to EJI’s greater goal of reconciliation and repair. In the first halacha, Maimonides defines his concept of complete teshuva. 

אֵי זוֹ הִיא תְּשׁוּבָה גְּמוּרָה. זֶה שֶׁבָּא לְיָדוֹ דָּבָר שֶׁעָבַר בּוֹ וְאֶפְשָׁר בְּיָדוֹ לַעֲשׂוֹתוֹ וּפֵרַשׁ וְלֹא עָשָׂה מִפְּנֵי הַתְּשׁוּבָה. לֹא מִיִּרְאָה וְלֹא מִכִּשְׁלוֹן כֹּחַ.

[Who has reached] complete Teshuvah? A person who confronts the same situation in which he sinned when he has the potential to commit [the sin again], and, nevertheless, abstains and does not commit it because of his Teshuvah alone and not because of fear or a lack of strength.

The Community Remembrance Project can be understood as an attempt to bring American society (or at least local communities) to a state of complete teshuva for the injustices of the past. It would not be difficult to argue that the United States has not yet reached this level. It is unlikely (hopefully) that we ever returned to the political realities of the past that allowed racism and injustice to be easily and clearly codified into law, meaning that as a nation we will not return to the exact situations in which transgressions were committed in the past. However, the unfair conditions that do exist directly derive from the past, and so even confrontation with new situations gives one the opportunity to demonstrate complete teshuva. To make choices in contemporary situations may be even more powerful for society, given the distance between direct perpetrators and victims and the folks doing reconciliation work today. 

The fact that so many victims and perpetrators are long since passed also may not preclude community remembrance projects from being affective forms of teshuva. The 11th halacha of the second chapter explains what a person should do when the person they harmed has died. 

הַחוֹטֵא לַחֲבֵרוֹ וּמֵת חֲבֵרוֹ קֹדֶם שֶׁיְּבַקֵּשׁ מְחִילָה מֵבִיא עֲשָׂרָה בְּנֵי אָדָם וּמַעֲמִידָן עַל קִבְרוֹ וְיֹאמַר בִּפְנֵיהֶם חָטָאתִי לַה' אֱלֹהֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְלִפְלוֹנִי זֶה שֶׁכָּךְ וְכָךְ עָשִׂיתִי לוֹ. וְאִם הָיָה חַיָּב לוֹ מָמוֹן יַחֲזִירוֹ לַיּוֹרְשִׁים. לֹא הָיָה יוֹדֵעַ לוֹ יוֹרְשִׁין יַנִּיחֶנּוּ בְּבֵית דִּין וְיִתְוַדֶּה:

If a person wronged a colleague and the latter died before he could ask him for forgiveness, he should take ten people and say the following while they are standing before the colleague's grave: "I sinned against God, the Lord of Israel, and against this person by doing the following to him...." If he owed him money, he should return it to his heirs. If he is unaware of the identity of his heirs, he should place [the sum] in [the hands of] the court and confess.[5]

Though the person described in the halacha is the one who committed the transgression, the basic elements of the halacha that we must focus on are those related to the position of the victim. One might interpret the Rambam’s idea as explicitly defining the rights of the deceased and their descendants to apology and restitution. This means that the victims of racial terror and injustice, from slavery onward, deserve to receive apologies and restitution (or reparations, which the EJI also supports). 

The factor that complicates the application of this halacha is whether the descendants of perpetrators, or even residents of communities who benefit from the legacy effects of structural racism, can faithfully deliver apologies. Elsewhere in Hilchot Teshuva, it is repeated numerous times that one must confess and make teshuva before one dies, even if it is at the last minute! One could also make this inference based on other texts, including halachic discussions regarding requirements for mourning the deceased based on the status of the decedent’s teshuva before they passed.[6] Thus, I do not believe that one could make the case for an apology on behalf of a deceased sinner to count as confession or teshuva for the deceased. However, I do not think that a lack of effectiveness of teshuva for the one who transgressed has bearing on the rights of the wronged to receive justice. 

The rights of the descendants of victims to restitution should not hinge upon the status of the perpetrator, who might withhold reconciliation by dying, but rather by the individuals and communities that self-select as proxy for the transgressor. For this there is some precedent, whereas the third and seventh chapters of Hilchot Teshuva both contain references to the sins of nations and the world and offers opportunities for teshuva on both accounts.[7] If entire nations can be ruled as sinful, it would seem reasonable for communities involved with the EJI and Community Remembrance Projects to take responsibility for sins committed by their citizens. 

The first halacha in chapter seven can also be understood to be supportive of the idea and spirit behind Community Remembrance Project efforts. 

הוֹאִיל וּרְשׁוּת כָּל אָדָם נְתוּנָה לוֹ כְּמוֹ שֶׁבֵּאַרְנוּ יִשְׁתַּדֵּל אָדָם לַעֲשׂוֹת תְּשׁוּבָה וּלְהִתְוַדּוֹת בְּפִיו מֵחֲטָאָיו וְלִנְעֹר כַּפָּיו מֵחֲטָאָיו כְּדֵי שֶׁיָּמוּת וְהוּא בַּעַל תְּשׁוּבָה וְיִזְכֶּה לְחַיֵּי הָעוֹלָם הַבָּא:

Since free choice is granted to all men as explained, a person should always strive to do Teshuvah and to confess verbally for his sins, striving to cleanse his hands from sin in order that he may die as a Baal-Teshuvah and merit the life of the world to come.

If we accept that people have free will and ought to strive for teshuva and confession, then we might even think that exploring, exhibiting, and mitigating the effects of past harms should be encouraged (if not celebrated). One could also make the connection between striving towards teshuva and the concept of righteous or wicked communities, which further strengthens the correlation of Community Remembrance Projects with teshuva. 

In the third halacha of the seventh chapter, one finds another clear and important correlation between the harms that EJI’s Projects are meant to address, and the Rambam’s ideas about teshuva. The systemic racism which EJI hopes to correct involves both sins of deed and also of national character. 

אַל תֹּאמַר שֶׁאֵין תְּשׁוּבָה אֶלָּא מֵעֲבֵרוֹת שֶׁיֵּשׁ בָּהֶן מַעֲשֶׂה כְּגוֹן זְנוּת וְגֵזֶל וּגְנֵבָה. אֶלָּא כְּשֵׁם שֶׁצָּרִיךְ אָדָם לָשׁוּב מֵאֵלּוּ כָּךְ הוּא צָרִיךְ לְחַפֵּשׂ בְּדֵעוֹת רָעוֹת שֶׁיֵּשׁ לוֹ וְלָשׁוּב מִן הַכַּעַס וּמִן הָאֵיבָה וּמִן הַקִּנְאָה וּמִן הַהִתּוּל וּמֵרְדִיפַת הַמָּמוֹן וְהַכָּבוֹד וּמֵרְדִיפַת הַמַּאֲכָלוֹת וְכַיּוֹצֵא בָּהֶן מִן הַכּל צָרִיךְ לַחֲזֹר בִּתְשׁוּבָה. וְאֵלּוּ הָעֲוֹנוֹת קָשִׁים מֵאוֹתָן שֶׁיֵּשׁ בָּהֶן מַעֲשֶׂה שֶׁבִּזְמַן שֶׁאָדָם נִשְׁקָע בְּאֵלּוּ קָשֶׁה הוּא לִפְרשׁ מֵהֶם. וְכֵן הוּא אוֹמֵר ׳׳יַעֲזֹב רָשָׁע׳׳ וְגוֹ: 

A person should not think that repentance is only necessary for those sins that involve deed such as promiscuity, robbery, or theft. Rather, just as a person is obligated to repent from these, similarly, he must search after the evil character traits he has. He must repent from anger, hatred, envy, frivolity, the pursuit of money and honor, the pursuit of gluttony, and the like. He must repent for all [of the above]. These sins are more difficult than those that involve deed. If a person is attached to these, it is more difficult for him to separate himself. In this context, [Isaiah 55:7] exhorts: "May the wicked abandon his path and the crooked man, his designs."

Hatred and anger are some of the primary source factors of the violence and injustice that continue to this day, and they born as the results in turn. Maimonides understood and remarked upon how difficult it can be for a person to detach oneself from these feelings and the transgressions they sow. How much more difficult, then, is it to separate these out of systems of government or the collective social consciousness? The work of the Community Remembrance Project seeks to directly address these intangible sins through their pursuit of reconciliation through knowledge and expression. 

Beyond the practical correlations between these Projects and the rest of EJI’s multifaceted work, there is also an ideological connection based in the second halacha of the 10th and final chapter of Hilchot Teshuva. Though Maimonides was speaking most specifically about service to God through fulfillment of mitzvot and Torah study, its context connects it with teshuva. 

הָעוֹבֵד מֵאַהֲבָה עוֹסֵק בַּתּוֹרָה וּבַמִּצְוֹת וְהוֹלֵךְ בִּנְתִיבוֹת הַחָכְמָה לֹא מִפְּנֵי דָּבָר בָּעוֹלָם וְלֹא מִפְּנֵי יִרְאַת הָרָעָה וְלֹא כְּדֵי לִירַשׁ הַטּוֹבָה אֶלָּא עוֹשֶׂה הָאֱמֶת מִפְּנֵי שֶׁהוּא אֱמֶת וְסוֹף הַטּוֹבָה לָבוֹא בִּגְלָלָהּ.

One who serves [God] out of love occupies himself in the Torah and the mitzvot and walks in the paths of wisdom for no ulterior motive: not because of fear that evil will occur, nor in order to acquire benefit. Rather, he does what is true because it is true, and ultimately, good will come because of it.

When communities initiate and carry out a remembrance project, the primary act is truth telling. God willing, the result is goodness (in the form of reconciliation and equality). 

Despite the good outcomes and correlation with several halachot, one could not faithfully refer to EJI’s Community Remembrance Project as a true form of Maimonidean teshuva. This may be because the complex needs of the communities they serve and operate within are not contained within the boundaries of Maimonides’ system. Had he been aware of the horrors of American slavery and the legacy of racial violence, injustice, and inequality, one could imagine the Rambam might have considered a way to address these wrongs. Even though he did not, we can still ensure that his ideas remain relevant and are applied wherever possible for reconciliation and the pursuit of justice. 

Footnotes

1.  https://eji.org/about/

2.  https://eji.org/projects/community-remembrance-project/

3.  https://simplebooklet.com/crpcatalog#page=1

4.  Translations from Sefaria.org 

5.  Hilchot Teshuva 2:1, 3:3, 3:14

6.  Kitzur Shulchan Aruch 201:6

7.  Hilchot Teshuva 3:1, 3:3, 7:5 

Non- Jewish Text Bibliography 

1. “Equal Justice Initiative.” N.d. Equal Justice Initiative. http://eji.org

4th Year Sermon - Parshat VaYakhel: Mending the House

This Sermon is for Commander Yanai Kaminka Z”L, for the Hostages, and for the Peace of Jerusalem and the thriving of all Israel.

 After October 7th the shared spaces in my apartment building became very cluttered. First, the air became crowded with voices that spoke into phones in hushed or hysterical tones. Next, the bench under the mailboxes in the lobby hosted a small basket of Zohar books with a loving note: “Take one and carry it with you for protection.” Eventually the hallways filled up with amazon boxes and duffel bags of all sizes, and traffic in the driveway doubled as these packages were loaded in cars bound for the airport. We, as Israel, experienced the formation of a major crack in our walls, and we desperately rushed to fill it. 

In August of last year, Dr. Dov Waxman of UCLA gave an interview published in an article entitled “Israel’s Democracy Protests: What’s Next?” In it, he discussed the ways that the protest movement reignited Israel’s political center, and possible ways that the movement may evolve. Waxman noted positive and negative potential developments; he imagined, at best, a mass realization of the untenability of Israel’s occupation of the West Bank. At worst, he envisioned a situation in which Israel’s enemies to the North, Hezbollah, decide to test the resolve of the Israeli military. He said, “What Hezbollah sees is an Israeli society that’s fractured and in turmoil, and they may think that Israel might not respond to a provocation on Israel’s northern border. But they could miscalculate, and you have a third Lebanon War, which would likely result in massive casualties and destruction.” Now, 153 days since the October 7th Hamas terror attack, Waxman’s words read as almost prophetic. Before that horrible Simchat Torah, Israel was a fractured state, and her enemies decided to test it.

Before I continue, I want to make my position crystal clear. The ultimate blame for the horrific blow dealt to the people in Southern Israel on October 7th lies with Hamas. I cannot believe that there is, or will ever be, any justification for the type of brutality meted out that day, or for the taking and continued holding of Israeli hostages (may they be brought home now). There should be no denial of the atrocities committed, nor of Israel’s right to defend herself from Hamas. Holding the Israeli government solely responsible for the massive casualties and destruction on that nightmarish day is disingenuous and inaccurate. 

Yet, in the months since the attack, many Israelis speak clearly of their condemnation of Netanyahu and his ministers. In a piece for Morning Edition, NPR’s Lauren Frayer interviewed Noam Tibon, a retired IDF Major General, about the attack and its aftermath. Tibon described the harrowing tale of how he rescued his own son and family from Kibbutz Nahal Oz on October 7th. While retelling the story, Tibon stated clearly that Netanyahu and his government must go, and that it was the divisions they sowed that left the country vulnerable. At the end of the interview Frayer summarized Tibon’s viewpoint that, “an immediate change of Israeli leadership is the only way to make sure no other family goes through what he did.” The government failed at its’ most sacred duty to protect its’ citizens. It allowed the state to fracture, it allowed for cracks to form and deepen in the walls of the house. 

In the months leading up to October 7th, Netanyahu and his allies actively attempted to erode the independence and power of Israel’s Judiciary, which tore Israel’s citizenry apart at the seams and ignited the democracy protest movement. And while the political center attempted to pull the state back together from the streets, the ruling coalition sat in their offices and sided with extremist settlers. Their actions and racist, violent words pushed the idea of Palestinian self-determination off of the backburner and out of the kitchen entirely. This government prioritized right-wing settlers over Jewish and Arab Israelis living legally and peacefully within the recognized boundaries of The State. Ministers chose to move increasing numbers of battalions into the West Bank in support of their religiously motivated expansionism. In the more immediate lead up to the attacks, military and government leadership ignored warnings from female soldiers, specifically trained to work border intelligence, that the threat from Hamas had escalated. Their actions and inaction made Israel less safe, physically and spiritually, and they pulled the country away from democracy, religious pluralism, and ultimately peace. These are cracks that we cannot wait to repair, lest the house crumble on top of us. 

I haven’t slept well since October 7th. Lately, when I lie awake, I feel haunted by this week’s haftarah. We read in II Kings 12 that, during his reign in Jerusalem, King Yehoash directed the priests to pay attention to the state of the Temple and collect certain donations to make repairs should they find damages, which Rashi explains are cracks in the walls.

וַיְהִ֗י בִּשְׁנַ֨ת עֶשְׂרִ֧ים וְשָׁלֹ֛שׁ שָׁנָ֖ה לַמֶּ֣לֶךְ יְהוֹאָ֑שׁ לֹא־חִזְּק֥וּ הַכֹּהֲנִ֖ים אֶת־בֶּ֥דֶק הַבָּֽיִת׃

 “But in the twenty-third year of King Jehoash, [it was found that] the priests had not made the repairs on the House.” So, the king invited the priests to meet with him and admonished them-

מַדּ֛וּעַ אֵינְכֶ֥ם מְחַזְּקִ֖ים אֶת־בֶּ֣דֶק הַבָּ֑יִת  וְעַתָּ֗ה אַל־תִּקְחֽוּ־כֶ֙סֶף֙ מֵאֵ֣ת מַכָּרֵיכֶ֔ם כִּֽי־לְבֶ֥דֶק הַבַּ֖יִת תִּתְּנֻֽהוּ

“Why have you not devoted yourselves to mending the House? Now do not take money from your supporters, rather set it for mending the House.” We might infer from the King’s words that, rather than devote their attention to the maintenance of the Temple, the priests enriched themselves. Woe to how often our world rhymes with this story.

This verse, especially the first half, has become my cursed mantra.

         “מַדּ֛וּעַ אֵינְכֶ֥ם מְחַזְּקִ֖ים אֶת־בֶּ֣דֶק הַבָּ֑יִת”

“Why have you not devoted yourselves to mending the house?” Why? To what end? At what cost?

         “מַדּ֛וּעַ אֵינְכֶ֥ם מְחַזְּקִ֖ים אֶת־בֶּ֣דֶק הַבָּ֑יִת”

 These are the words I am haunted by when I can’t sleep because I’m thinking about the hostages. “Why have you not devoted yourselves to mending the house?”  These are the words I choke on when I think about the horrible loss of innocent Palestinian life in this war. 

I sometimes wonder if it’s even fair to think of the modern State of Israel and its leaders as a new version of “the house,” and as inheritors of the priestly tradition. Perhaps we stretch the metaphor too far, especially in the face of concrete tragedy. As of now, I stand by it. If the Holy Temple is where the high priest would commune with God to expiate the people, then how can we not imagine the State of Israel, which we call reishit tzmichat geulateinu– the first fruits of our redemption– as anything less than the new Beit HaMikdash? Today, however, there is no separation between the would-be king and his priests, the incredulous admonishment comes from the subjects, and it often feels like God could not possibly dwell among them. “Why have you not devoted yourselves to mending the house?”

In our haftarah, as today, the priests do not respond to the plea. When King Yehoash called them out for their negligence towards maintaining the structure of the Temple, they simply agreed that they would no longer accept money for the repairs, nor make any repairs themselves. The solution found is so simple as to be quite elegant. It is written that the priest Yehoyada took a chest and made a hole in the lid for the collection of the half-shekel donation required from males over the age of twenty, and other funds that people gave of their own free will. The priestly guards watched over the chest until the sum inside reached a critical mass, at which point the priests distributed the money to the construction superintendent, who then paid for the labor and supplies needed to make repairs.

So what do we do with the ruling coalition? If we are to be intellectually honest, we must not avoid the question: does the dereliction of maintenance necessarily imply a dereliction of duty? I don’t think I could give the Israeli government a pass on their neglect. In the last 2,000 or so years, humanity has developed complex political systems and social contracts that make it clear that maintaining the walls is very much within the realm of a government’s responsibility. I can, however, both meet the early Israelites with leniency and learn from their situation. If neither building nor maintenance were within the responsibilities of the priests, then why would one ask them to do it? Perhaps it was King Yehoash who made the mistake by appointing the priests to the task in the first place. That would mean that Yehoyada’s solution was not some priestly passing of the buck, but rather a wise recognition of restructuring that needed to happen. The people of Israel built the house, so let them fix it!

We all must apply this solution vigorously to our spiritual home. We, as diasporic Jews, must invest wisely in the people who will repair the walls and make the house that is Israel a house for all peoples. It is no longer enough to give our dollars and trust to general funds. Like in the days of King Yehoash, this is a moment to collect money specifically allocated for mending the house. When you give your tzedakah for Israel, give it to Achim LaNeshek, or the Israeli Religious Action Center, Rabbis for Human Rights, or The Israeli Movement for Progressive Judaism. These organizations already actively engage in the work of mending Israel’s walls. They are the ones who will rebuild The State into a more secure and equal home for all of her inhabitants, and they need our support now more than ever. 

When Moetzet HaAm,  The People’s Council, convened to declare independence on May 14th, 1948, recognition of the builders of the nascent State of Israel was implicit. The third clause of Megillat Haatzmaut (the Israeli Declaration of Independence) reads, “Impelled by this historic and traditional attachment, Jews strove in every successive generation to return and be established in their ancient homeland. In recent generations they returned in their masses. Pioneers, immigrants in defiance of British Mandatory Legislation, and defenders, made deserts bloom, revived the Hebrew language, built villages and towns, and created a thriving community in control of its own economy and culture, that advocates for peace but knows how to defend itself, and brings the blessings of progress to all inhabitants of the land, and aspires towards independent nationhood.” Towards the end of the scroll, the authors explicitly call out to us, the Jews in the diaspora, to support the state physically and materially. To me, the combined message is explicit: Each Jew is responsible for the flourishing of The State. Perhaps the members of the current coalition forgot that, but we must not. Especially now, when the word Zionist has become a slur, we need to reassert our commitment to the thriving of our shared homeland. We need to speak loudly and clearly to remind our diasporic communities of what our vision for Israel looks like. We have to take ownership of the value of kol yisrael arevim zeh ba zeh, that all Jews are responsible for one another, without regard to their politics. We have to be devoted to mending the house.

In January I traveled as part of the One HUC Delegation to Israel. On our last morning, we met with Ronen Keller, an HUC Jerusalem Advisory Board member, and one of the primary activists of Achim LaNeshek, (brothers and sisters in arms). Ronen explained to us how, In the months since October 7th, this group has led the Israeli civil response to the attack and continuing war. Their leaders are some of the same people leading the Democracy Protests that Waxman wrote about last August, and many of its influential members are retired military brass in the same social milieu as Noam Tibon, who rescued his own family from Hamas. These groups continue to coordinate the collection and distribution of necessary food, medicine, and supplies to internally displaced Israelis from the South and the North. They coordinate space for schools, shifts for volunteer farmworkers, and mental health support networks. They train and support civilian emergency responders for southern communities. They have provided for the continuation of Israeli society during the war. They, not the government, are the ones mending the cracks in the house.

They, and the millions of Jews around the world and in my building, who pitched in to help are the reason I am starting to sleep a little better. They, and many of you, are why I have hope. I know that I do not hold the solutions to all of Israel’s problems, and I wish I could share a concrete action that I know will begin to permanently mend the walls today. But I am prepared, as all of us who will be leaders in our own temples should be, to remember my responsibility to all that is Israel. There are deep cracks in so many walls, but I truly believe it is not too late to mend them. SheNechazek et-bedek Beiteinu, may we devote ourselves to mending our houses. May this be God’s will, may this be our will, and may we always remember our Herzl: If you will it, it is no dream.

Drash on Parshat Shemot

Parshat Shemot: Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh

In Hebrew, there is no present tense form of the verb to be, lihiyot. You can “was” or “have been” in the past, or you can “will be” in the future, but in the here and now, you just are…but without the word “are.” So, where in English one might say “I am shocked to learn this confusing information,” in Hebrew one would just say, colloquially, “Ani b’shock.” Literally, “I in shock.” One can imagine that, was he using today’s Hebrew, Moses might have said these words exactly in this week’s parsha when he encounters God for the first time. 

After setting the scene in Egypt and casting a new Pharoah who did not know Joseph, Parshat Shemot introduces Moses and his special relationship with God and the enslaved Israelite people. Moses, raised in the house of royalty, has committed a grievous sin in killing an Egyptian task master. He flees to desert, finds a wife and a new vocation, and meets the God of his ancestors. 

While out tending his flock, Moses encounters a burning bush which, to his amazement, is not consumed by the fire. God calls out to Moses from the bush and sets him on his mission to free the Israelites from bondage. Moses is willing but, reasonably, wants to know the name of the master who has charged him with this monumental task of liberation.

In Exodus 3:13 Moses asks God: “When I come to the Israelites and say to them, ‘the god of your fathers has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘by which name,’ what shall I say to them. 

God replies in the next verse, saying “Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh (I will be that which I will be), thus shall you say to the Israelites, Ehyeh sent you.” 

This answer seems reasonable… except that “Ehyeh” is not a name. In Hebrew, “Ehyeh” is one of those existent forms of the verb “to be!” “Ehyeh” is the first-person future tense of the verb, meaning, I will be. So, rather than telling Moses a name, God informs Moses of the most basic fact of the universe- I will be that which I will be. 

Our tradition has wrestled with these words for millenia, though our commentator Rashi seems to have found an explanation in the Talmud. There is a story in Talmud Berakhot 9b that replays this scene and seems to provide an explanation as to its grammatical peculiarities! 

It says in the Talmud:

״אֶהְיֶה אֲשֶׁר אֶהְיֶה״, אָמַר לוֹ הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא לְמֹשֶׁה, לֵךְ אֱמוֹר לָהֶם לְיִשְׂרָאֵל: אֲנִי הָיִיתִי עִמָּכֶם בְּשִׁעְבּוּד זֶה, וַאֲנִי אֶהְיֶה עִמָּכֶם בְּשִׁעְבּוּד מַלְכֻיוֹת

I will be that which I will be. God said to Moses, go tell Israel, I was with you in this enslavement, and I’ll be with you later in the enslavement of the kingdoms (referring ahead to the later history of the sacking of the kingdoms of Judea and Israel). 

אָמַר לְפָנָיו: רִבּוֹנוֹ שֶׁל עוֹלָם, דַּיָּה לַצָּרָה בִּשְׁעָתָהּ. אָמַר לוֹ הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא: לֵךְ אֱמוֹר לָהֶם ״אֶהְיֶה שְׁלָחַנִי אֲלֵיכֶם

Moses said to him, master of the universe, let that suffering be endured in its time. (In other words, ‘we don’t need to think about the bad times ahead’).

God seems to take the note and adjusts- “The holy one blessed be God said- go tell them, ‘Ehye (I will be) sent me to you.’” Rashi explains then that the reason God says “Ehyhe,” I will be, is to indicate that God will be with the Israelites in their sorrow. However, we know by the Talmud’s inclusion of the process of the story, that it also means God will be with them in the sorrow to come, even if it’s not the focus in each present moment. 

It probably goes without saying that, despite our great fortune, we as Jews find ourselves again in a moment of sorrow. It is a moment that Moses did not want to the think about, that he could never imagine, but that God knew would come. I am comforted, though, (as any nerdy rabbinical student might be) by Hebrew grammar. Hebrew grammar tells me that even in the hardest present, there is always a future. I know that, though I couldn’t tell you God’s name, that our God is with us even now. Especially now. 

Shabbat Shalom 

Talmud Mini-Course Curriculum

This mini-course was created as the final project fot the second of a two semester Talmud Sequence, and is intended to give rising college students a way to frame their experience through the eyes of the ancient rabbis. This course section was taught by Rabbi Dr. Dvora Weisberg. 

Talmud Lesson - God’s Will: Revealed in our Time

This lesson was created as the final project for the first of a two semester Talmud sequence, and is about trends of reform in the Talmud. This course section was taught by Rabbi Neal Scheindlin. 

Space Jews: A Collection of AI Generated Purim Spiel-ettes

This purim spiel was created in 2023 for Jeff’s student pulpit in Redding, California. Jeff used chatGPT to create “spiel-ettes” and then wrote a story to serve as the framework within which the spiel-ettes would appear.  

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Narrator of Narrators:  A not-so-long time from now, in this very same Galaxy, Humanity has left earth in search of a brighter future among distant stars! Though our home planet is far behind them, our human heroes still remember their favorite parts of earth, including their favorite Jewish holidays! But what will they do? How will they know when to celebrate? And how will they make sure that future generations in space know the stories? Let us check in with our Space Jews, complete with hilarious space Jew names. 

Yaacovlax: Ruchelplarx, I’m so glad I found you!

Ruchelplarx: Oh, hey Yaakovlax. What’s going on?

Yaacovlax: I was just thinking back to my favorite Jewish holiday from back on earth, Purim. 

Ruchelplarx: Ah yes, Purim! What a joyous holiday it was! If only I could remember the story to tell it to my children, Rebecclash and Benjoinxman. 

Yaacovlax: I know, I can’t remember it either! I do know it took place during the month of Adar. Any idea when that is? 

Ruchelplarx: Nope, not a clue. I have literally no idea how to tell time in space. 

Yaacovlax: Same here…hmmm. This sure is a dilemma…let’s ask the Robo-Rabbi! 

Ruchelplarx: Robo-Rabbi, Robo-Rabbi! 

*Robo-Rabbi appears* 

Robo-Rabbi: Ahh Ruchelplarx and Yaacovlax, how can I be of assistance. I am running the newest operating system of Rav Google! 

Yaacovlax: Robo-Rabbi, we can’t remember the story of Purim and we don’t know when it’s Adar! Can you help us!? 

Ruchelplarx: Yeah, we want to carry on our Jewish tradition but our HUC student’s shuttle doesn’t arrive until the next hyperdrive cycle ends, so we can’t ask them! 

Robo-Rabbi: Ah yes, well, I can certainly help with that thanks to my new AI system. Calculating date for Purim now…beep boop beep boop beep. Oy Vey-Bot! It’s Purim tonight!!!

Yaacovlax: Oh my! Hooray! And also…oh no! We need to put on a Purim spiel…but we don’t know the story! 

Robo-Rabbi: Not to worry, I can use my AI to generate a purim spiel that will tell the story! 

Ruchelplarx: Amazing! But just to be safe, how about you generate a few…

Robo-Rabbi: Ok. Generating…Generating…beep boop beep boop beep…Done. I have created original purim spiels and we will view them now. Prepare to be amazed by my artificial intelligence and feel free to start on my Netflix deal. 

Narrator of Narrators: And so our heroic space Jews gathered together to watch as Robo-Rabbi put on his spiel-ettes… Let us join them. 

***SCENE***

Title: The Secret Purim Plan

Characters:

• Mordechai

• Esther

• Haman

• Narrator 1

• Narrator 2

Narrator 1: Once upon a time in the land of Persia, there lived a wicked man named Haman who wanted to destroy all the Jews.

Narrator 2: But there was a brave Jew named Mordechai who refused to bow down to Haman.

Mordechai: I will not bow down to you, Haman! I only bow down to my one true God.

Haman: How dare you defy me, Mordechai! I will make sure you and all the other Jews pay for your disobedience.

Esther: (enters the stage) What's going on here? Mordechai, why won't you bow down to Haman?

Mordechai: Esther, my dear niece, Haman wants to destroy all the Jews, and I cannot bow down to a man who wishes to harm our people.

Esther: (determined) We cannot let that happen. I have a plan.

Narrator 1: Esther went to the king and invited him and Haman to a secret banquet.

Narrator 2: At the banquet, Esther revealed her Jewish heritage and told the king of Haman's wicked plan.

Esther: (to the king) My people and I are in danger, and we need your help.

King: (surprised) I had no idea, Esther. I will help you in any way I can.

Haman: (panicked) No! You cannot trust her, my king. She's one of them.

Narrator 1: The king ordered Haman to be arrested, and the Jews were saved from destruction.

Narrator 2: From that day forward, the Jews celebrated their victory and the holiday of Purim was born.

Mordechai: (proudly) Esther, you were so brave. Thanks to you, our people are safe.

Esther: (smiling) It was a team effort. Together, we were able to overcome the evil plan of Haman.

Narrator 1: And they all lived happily ever after.

Narrator 2: Until next year's Purim, that is.

END OF SPIEL

NEXT SPIEL 

Title: The Purim Puzzle

Characters:

• Rachel

• Leah

• Mordechai

• Haman

• King Ahashverosh

• Narrator

Narrator: Once upon a time in the land of Persia, there were two sisters, Rachel and Leah, who were very different from each other.

Rachel: (enthusiastic) Purim is coming! I can't wait to dress up and eat delicious hamantaschen.

Leah: (sarcastic) Ugh, Purim. It's just an excuse for people to get drunk and act foolishly.

Narrator: Despite their differing opinions about Purim, Rachel and Leah both lived in the same village and were preparing for the upcoming holiday.

Mordechai: (enters the stage) Shalom, sisters. Are you excited for Purim?

Rachel: Yes, Mordechai! We can't wait to celebrate.

Leah: (muttering) Speak for yourself.

Mordechai: (serious) Purim is not just about dressing up and eating treats. It's about remembering our history and the danger that we faced.

Haman: (sneaks in) Ah, the Jews. Always so serious. Don't you know how to have fun?

Rachel: (uneasy) Haman, what are you doing here?

Haman: (slyly) Just passing through. I heard you talking about Purim, and I thought I'd offer some advice.

Leah: (skeptical) Advice from you? You're the one who hates us and wants to destroy our people.

Haman: (laughing) Don't be silly. I just want you to have a good time. Why don't you try solving this puzzle? (holds up a box)

Mordechai: (cautious) What kind of puzzle is it?

Haman: (mysteriously) It's a secret puzzle. If you can solve it, you'll uncover a hidden treasure that will make your Purim celebration unforgettable.

Rachel: (excited) That sounds amazing! Let's try it.

Leah: (doubtful) I don't trust him. This is probably a trick.

Mordechai: (thoughtful) Perhaps we should hear him out. But we must be careful.

King Ahashverosh: (enters the stage) What's going on here? Haman, what are you doing with the Jews?

Haman: (nervous) Your Majesty, I was just passing by and thought I'd share a puzzle with them.

King Ahashverosh: (amused) A puzzle, you say? Let's have a look.

Narrator: The king, Mordechai, Rachel, and Leah gathered around the puzzle box, intrigued by what it might contain.

Mordechai: (examining the box) It seems to be a combination lock. We need to figure out the code to open it.

Rachel: (eagerly) I love puzzles! Let's work together to solve it.

Leah: (sighing) Fine. But I still don't trust Haman.

Narrator: The four of them worked on the puzzle for hours, trying various combinations and deciphering clues. Meanwhile, Haman watched from a distance, hoping to see them fail.

Haman: (whispering to himself) They'll never solve it. And when they give up, I'll take the box and its treasure for myself.

King Ahashverosh: (excitedly) I think I've got it! The code is... (whispers the code to Mordechai)

Mordechai: (impressed) Your Majesty, you're a genius! It worked!

END OF SPIEL

*Back on Ship*

Yaacovlax: Ummm Robo-Rabbi…I know I don’t remember the story…but that seemed really off. 

Ruchelplarx: Yeah can you recalibrate?

Robo-Rabbi: Recalculating….Recalculating…Recalculating…

NEXT SPIEL

Title: The Robot Purim

Characters:

• RoboMordechai

• RoboEsther

• RoboHaman

• RoboKing

• Narrator

Narrator: In a faraway galaxy, there was a planet called Shushan, where robots lived in harmony. However, their peaceful existence was threatened by the evil robot Haman.

RoboMordechai: (serious) My fellow robots, we must be careful. Haman is plotting against us.

RoboEsther: (concerned) What can we do?

RoboMordechai: We must find a way to stop him before it's too late.

Narrator: RoboMordechai and RoboEsther devised a plan to stop Haman from carrying out his evil plan.

RoboEsther: (confident) I will go to the king and plead for our people.

RoboMordechai: (proud) You are very brave, RoboEsther. But be careful.

Narrator: RoboEsther went to the king's palace to speak with him.

RoboKing: (impressed) RoboEsther, what brings you here?

RoboEsther: (humble) Your Majesty, I am here to plead for my people. Haman has threatened to destroy us.

RoboKing: (concerned) I had no idea. I will do everything in my power to protect your people.

Narrator: The king was moved by RoboEsther's courage and promised to help. Meanwhile, Haman was furious that his plans were being thwarted.

RoboHaman: (angry) How dare they interfere with my plan! I must find a way to stop them.

Narrator: Haman built a robot called a "gallows" to try and destroy RoboMordechai. However, RoboEsther's bravery saved the day.

RoboEsther: (determined) I will not let Haman succeed. I must speak with the king again.

Narrator: RoboEsther went to the king and revealed the truth about Haman's evil plans.

RoboKing: (shocked) I cannot believe this. Haman, you will pay for your crimes.

RoboHaman: (defeated) No, this cannot be happening.

Narrator: Haman was defeated, and the robots celebrated their victory with a great feast.

RoboEsther: (grateful) Thank you, RoboMordechai, for your guidance and support.

RoboMordechai: (proud) You were the one who showed true courage, RoboEsther. You saved our people.

Narrator: The robots continued to celebrate the victory of good over evil for many years to come, always remembering the courage of RoboEsther and RoboMordechai.

END OF SPIEL 

NEXT SPIEL

Title: The Purim Haiku

Characters:

• Esther

• Mordechai

• Haman

• King Ahashverosh

• Narrator

Narrator: In Shushan city, A tale of bravery unfolds, In poetic form.

Esther: Determined and brave, I plead for my people's lives, With strength from above.

Mordechai: Guiding and wise, I help Esther to be strong, And save our people.

Haman: Ambitious and cruel, I plot against the robots, With evil in mind.

King Ahashverosh: Confused and unsure, I listen to Esther's plea, And act to save all.

Narrator: The plot is revealed, Haman is punished, robots saved, Purim joy abounds.

END OF SPIEL

*Back on the ship*

Ruchelplarx: ummm…Robo-Rabbi…I feel like you lost the thread…

Robo-Rabbi: That is fair. Beep boop beep boop beep. Next Spiel!

NEXT SPIEL 

Title: Breaking the Fourth Wall: A Purim Spiel

Characters:

• Narrator

• King Ahasuerus

• Haman

• Esther

• Mordechai

Narrator: Welcome to Breaking the Fourth Wall: A Purim Spiel! In this retelling of the Purim story, each character will be breaking the fourth wall and addressing the audience directly. Let's begin!

King Ahasuerus: (entering) Hey, how's everyone doing? So, I'm the king in this story. I'm rich, I'm powerful, and I like to party. You know how it is.

Haman: (entering) Hey, everyone. I'm Haman. I'm the villain of the story, but I like to think of myself as the hero. I mean, who doesn't want to be rich and powerful like the king, right?

Esther: (entering) Hi, everyone. I'm Esther. I'm just a regular girl, but I'm about to do something pretty extraordinary. I'm going to save my people from Haman's evil plan.

Mordechai: (entering) Shalom, everyone. I'm Mordechai. I'm Esther's cousin, and I'm also a wise man. I'm the one who convinced Esther to go to the king and plead for her people.

Narrator: And so, the story begins. King Ahasuerus is throwing a big party, and everyone is invited. Haman, who is feeling pretty good about himself, decides to crash the party.

King Ahasuerus: Hey, Haman. What are you doing here?

Haman: Oh, nothing much. Just hanging out with my buddy, the king.

Narrator: But Haman has a secret plan to destroy the Jewish people, and he convinces the king to go along with it.

Haman: Hey, king. You know those Jews? They're not like us. They have different customs and traditions. They don't fit in here. You should get rid of them.

King Ahasuerus: Hmm, I never thought of it that way. Okay, let's do it.

Esther: (to the audience) I couldn't just sit back and watch while my people were being destroyed. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

Mordechai: (to the audience) I told Esther that she was in a unique position to help her people. She was the queen, after all. So, I encouraged her to go to the king and plead for her people.

Narrator: Esther takes a big risk and goes to the king, even though she could be killed for doing so.

Esther: (to the audience) It wasn't easy, but I knew I had to try. So, I went to the king and asked him to spare my people.

King Ahasuerus: (to the audience) I was surprised to see Esther in my throne room. But when she told me her story, I knew I had to help.

Narrator: The king listens to Esther's plea and agrees to spare the Jewish people.

Haman: (to the audience) Uh oh. This is not going according to plan.

Mordechai: (to the audience) Haman's plan to destroy the Jewish people has backfired.

Narrator: Haman is caught and punished for his evil plan, and the Jewish people are saved.

Esther: (to the audience) I'm so glad everything worked out. And I'm grateful for my people, who supported me and believed in me.

Title: Vashti’s Purim

Characters:

• Narrator

• Vashti

Narrator: Welcome to the Purim spiel, where we tell the story of how the Jewish people were saved from the evil Haman. But tonight, we're going to hear a different perspective on the story, the story of Queen Vashti!

(Vashti enters the stage)

Vashti: (Sighs) Ah, Purim. The holiday where everyone remembers my husband's new wife, Esther, and her heroic act of saving the Jewish people. But what about me? I was the first queen, and I have a story to tell too!

Narrator: That's right, Vashti. Please share your side of the story.

Vashti: (Clears throat) When my husband, King Ahasuerus, called for me to appear before him and his drunken friends, I refused. I was tired of being objectified and degraded in front of those men.

Narrator: And how did the King react?

Vashti: He was furious, of course. He stripped me of my title as Queen and banished me from the palace. But I stood up for myself and my dignity, and that's something to be proud of.

Narrator: And what do you think of Esther's role in the story?

Vashti: I'm happy that the Jewish people were saved, of course. But I can't help feeling a bit resentful that Esther gets all the credit for it. She only became Queen because of my banishment, and she wouldn't have been in a position to save her people if it weren't for me.

Narrator: That's a valid point, Vashti. But we can still celebrate Esther's bravery and the miracle of Purim, while also acknowledging your important role in the story.

Vashti: Thank you. And to all the women out there, remember that we have a voice and a right to be treated with respect. Don't let anyone take that away from you.

Narrator: And there you have it, folks. A different perspective on the story of Purim, from the brave and outspoken Queen Vashti. Happy Purim, everyone!

END OF SPIEL

NEXT SPIEL

Title: The Queen Who Saved Her People

Characters:

• Narrator

• King Ahasuerus

• Haman

• Mordechai

• Esther

• Vashti (optional, non-speaking role)

Narrator: Once upon a time in ancient Persia, there was a powerful king named Ahasuerus. He had a beautiful queen named Vashti, but she refused to obey him and was banished from the kingdom.

King Ahasuerus: (entering) I need a new queen! Bring me the most beautiful women in the kingdom to choose from!

Narrator: And so, many women were presented to the king, but he was most impressed with a Jewish woman named Esther.

Esther: (entering) My lord, I am honored to be chosen as your queen.

Narrator: But Esther kept her Jewish heritage a secret, and soon, a terrible plot was hatched against her people.

Haman: (entering) My lord, I have a plan to get rid of all the Jews in Persia!

King Ahasuerus: What is your plan, Haman?

Haman: (holds up a scroll) My lord, I have written an order for all the Jews to be killed on a certain day.

King Ahasuerus: (reading the scroll) Hmm, I suppose that's a good idea. Do it!

Narrator: But Mordechai, a wise Jewish man who worked in the king's palace, knew that Esther was the key to stopping the plan.

Mordechai: (entering) Esther, you must go to the king and plead for your people's safety!

Esther: (worried) But I can't just go to the king without being summoned. He could have me killed!

Mordechai: (encouraging) Esther, you are the queen. You have the power to save our people. Have courage!

Narrator: And so, Esther risked her life to approach the king.

Esther: (entering) My lord, I have something important to tell you.

King Ahasuerus: (impressed) What is it, my queen?

Esther: (dramatically) My lord, there is a terrible plot to kill all the Jews in Persia, and I am one of them.

King Ahasuerus: (shocked) What? Who would dare do such a thing?

Esther: (pointing to Haman) He would, my lord. He has written an order for our people's destruction.

Narrator: The king was enraged, and Haman was punished for his evil plan. Mordechai was honored for his bravery, and the Jewish people were saved.

King Ahasuerus: (to Esther) My queen, you have saved your people from destruction. You are truly the bravest and most righteous person in all of Persia.

Esther: (smiling) Thank you, my lord. But it was Mordechai who gave me the courage to act. We must all remember that even the smallest person can make a big difference.

Narrator: And so, the story of Mordechai and Queen Esther became a beloved tale of bravery and redemption, celebrated every year on the holiday of Purim.

The End. Happy Purim!

*Back on Ship* 

Yaacovlax: Well, I guess I know the story of Purim now…

Ruchelplarx: (Unsure but then convinced) I guess…Yeah! Now I can share it with my children! 

Yaacovlax: That’s so great, what are their names again! 

Ruchelplarx: I don’t know, something spacey though. Hey Robo-Rabbi, will you broadcast those spiels to the whole fleet?! 

Robo-Rabbi: Already done- Chag Purim Sameach, Space Jews! 

Ritual for the Departure of the Soul

One of the most pressing questions for human beings is one that the living can never answer with any surety— “what happens after we die?” Some religions may have a clear answer about the soul going one place or another, but for Jews there is not a universally preached truth about the afterlife. This does not mean that there is any lack of belief! On the contrary, there are many traditions in Judaism about what happens after death…and each has one thing in common: they are founded on the belief that the soul lives on after we die. 

Involved with this belief in which the soul lives beyond the physical body is the soul’s eventual return to God. This eventuality implies, for some Jews, that there is first a journey which the soul must undertake through Gehenna so to be cleansed of sin. This is a reasonable belief- if God is pure than so too must be the souls that join with God! But how might one help facilitate the departed soul’s journey, especially given another belief that the soul hangs around the body until burial? We can enact a new ritual for the departure of the soul that is based in the lived and textual traditions and halacha. 

Proposed Ritual for the Release of the Soul of the Departed – Hovlat Nefesh or Hasaat Nefesh or Havdalat Nefesh - הובלת נפש או הסעת נפש או הדבלת הנפש

The following ritual is meant to be carried out in the presence of the dead body as close to the time of death as possible. In the case of a hospital or hospice death this would be done in the room of the deceased. In the case of a more sudden and maybe violent death this could also take place in the morgue or in a funeral home, though ideally it would be done in a place with a window if possible. The process for the ritual is: 

1. Open the window. 

1. The goal of this ritual is to help the soul begin its journey back to God, which means it needs to be able to get outside. 

2. In the case where one is in a room without windows one should crack the door to the room and could even possibly crack open a series of doors until there is a path of air directly going outside. 

2. Light at least two candles. One candle should be next to the body, and another should be next to the window. 

1. Candles represent life and the soul in Judaism and are also a visual symbol for the departed soul to follow.

2. If one is using a door and not a window, place the candle next to the window. If one is opening a series of doors, one may place candles next to each door. 

3. Any candle type may be used. Some may choose to leave one unguarded that can be at the mercy of the draft and could go out early (which would symbolize the end of the ritual) or one could choose a candle in a votive in order to protect it from the elements and force the candle to burn out naturally. 

3. Light incense near the window.

1. Incense was used commonly in Temple rituals and was understood by our ancestors to be pleasing to God. As the soul begins its journey back to God this incense will help to make the soul pleasing and acceptable to God. Incense also provides a scent for the soul to follow to the outside. 

2. If one is using doors, the incense should be placed near the outermost door being used. In the case of a series of doors one may light incense by preceding doors in addition to the outermost door. 

3. If one is in a place that will not allow the use of incense (for any number of reasons) one could also lay a trail with contained, fragrant spices (as in a havdallah set) and achieve the same purpose. 

4. Recite Psalms until the candle has burned out.

1. A specific candle may be selected to give the ritual a specific time limit. 

2. One should try to limit the candle to a maximum of a three-hour burn. At this point the body will begin to stiffen (indicating that the soul is no longer inside) and it would be unwise to postpone any post-mortem examinations that may need to be conducted. 

3. Everybody present should be given an opportunity to recite out loud. 

4. If the people present are not feel comfortable with Hebrew, they can recite in their native language. One could also substitute other readings so long as they are appropriate in tone and nature (up to family’s discretion). 

5. Moment of Silence 

1. Once the candle has gone out the room should take an intentional moment of silence in order to recognize the absence of the soul from their midst. 

2. This moment does not have a specific length, but it should be at least 30 seconds and probably no more than five minutes. 

6. Close the window. 

1. Closing the window demonstrates that the ritual is over and symbolizes that the soul has left and begun its journey. 

2. If using door(s), this is the time to close them. 

Basis in Beliefs and Halacha 

Any meaningful Jewish ritual should ideally be based in Jewish belief and tradition even if those beliefs of traditions are not currently in practice by Jewish communities. We know that this model of ritual inspiration is acceptable in mainstream Judaism by considering the abundance of practices that derive from or relate to the existence of either of the two Temples in Jerusalem. In this sense, one has seemingly unending sources to go to for inspiration and grounding for a meaningful Jewish practice. Despite this plethora, and our permission to use it, one does not actually have to look very far find sources that can inform a ritual for releasing the soul of the departed!

One belief that is necessary is that the soul resides in the body. We can determine this through inference based on the ruling that one must not close the eyes of a dying person before their soul has expired.[1] This ritual does not act as if the soul has expired, however, and so we might actually rely more heavily on the response in the Shulchan Arukh which indicates that one must not recite Tziduk HaDin before the soul departs [2] which implies that the soul lives on.

This belief that the soul lives beyond the body is the main belief that requiring backing in this ritual. This belief, together with the idea that the soul returns to God, can be sourced back (at least) to Kohelet, in which we read:

[3] “וְהָר֣וּחַ תָּשׁ֔וּב אֶל־הָאֱלֹהִ֖ים אֲשֶׁ֥ר נְתָנָֽהּ׃”

This verse informs Maimonides in his explanation of elements, matter, and the difference between nefesh/ruach and neshama. Nefesh, according to the Rambam, is not made up of any of the other elements, and therefore does not decompose. Rather, it returns to God after the body with no need for the body or the neshama. [4]

Another piece of this ritual that might require explanation of the Jewish background is the use of incense. The use of incense is found often in the Torah, but the best example of its use being directed similarly to the purpose in this ritual comes from Numbers, in which we read that Moses and Aaron use incense to temper the wrath of God.[5] Incense was also used in the Temple for atonement (which we also want for the souls of our departed). Further, Maimonides expresses that foreign nations use incense to summon the dead to speak to them in dreams, and that we should not do that! [6]This also implies that we understand incense to be attractive to souls and therefore gives credence to the idea that the soul will follow the incense. 

Conclusion

This ritual is meant to turn the spiritual into the tangible by giving people a physical symbol and act to release the soul of their loved ones. It also helps to reinforce the idea for people that their loved one is only gone in body, which may be comforting. Although nothing can alleviate the burden of loss, especially in immediate proximity to the time of passing, a ritual may give people a sense of closure and a feeling of connection to spirituality that is accessible in moments of liminality. 

Footnotes

1.  Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Avel 4:5

2.  Shulchan Arukh, Yoreh De’ah 339:1

3.  Ecclesiastes 12:7

4.  Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Yesodei HaTorah Chapter 4 

5.  Number 17:11-13

6.  Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Avodah Zarah 11:13