Aleynu: Humility/Praise/Vision

Sharing a version of Aleynu that I wrote in June 2020. I was inspired by Joanna Macy’s “Work that Reconnects” and highly recommend the book Coming Back to Life by Joanna Macy and Molly Brown, which provides wonderful exercises for re-awakening our capacity to hope and to transform our world. Be in touch through my contact form if you would like a pdf version to print and use in your community

עָלֵֽינוּ לְשַׁבֵּֽחַ Aleynu leshabeach

It’s up to us to praise the One

May we open ourselves to beauty and wonder

May we care deeply for one another, near and far, honoring the web of life

May we shed abundant tears to honor all the loss and devastation in our world

May we honor our ancestors and receive their blessing

May we overcome our fear of death

May we learn to see with new eyes, to open to new possibilities

May we each be empowered to give the best of our gifts

May our human family empower leaders for their wisdom and compassion

May we know our resilience as a species that has survived many plagues, wars, famines and other hardships

May we restore our capacity to live sustainably with our Earth Mother

May we grow our courage to undo racist beliefs and racist systems, to hear the cries of the oppressed, and to be a force for love, truth, and justice

May our love for one another overcome the forces that try to divide us.

May we know and proclaim that we are One.

כַּכָּתוּב בְּתוֹרָתֶֽךָ יְיָ יִמְלֹךְ לְעוֹלָם וָעֶד

וְנֶאֱמַר וְהָיָה יְיָ לְמֶֽלֶךְ עַל כָּל הָאָֽרֶץ בַּיּוֹם הַהוּא יִהְיֶה יְיָ אֶחָד וּשְמוֹ אֶחָד

Kakatuv betorateha adonay yimloh le’olam va’ed.

Vene’emar: Vehayah adonay lemeleh al kol ha’aretz.

Bayom hahu yihyeh adonay ehad ushmo ehad.

Finding our Protectors and Guides: A dvar torah for Vayechi

Written for week of January 11, 2025

Chazak, chazak v’nitchazek — let us be strong, strong, and strengthen each other. This Hebrew phrase is chanted during the Shabbat morning Torah service each time we finish reading one of the five books of the Torah. This week, we conclude the book of Genesis with Parshat Vayechi. I am grateful for this opportunity to bless one another with strength at this season, as we begin 2025 and anticipate the new administration. We need to stay out of despair, continually renewing our courage and compassion; we will need one another’s strength to do this.

The parallel between this moment in the history of the United States and the circumstances at the very end of our parshah is chilling. The final verse of the Book of Genesis ends with the death of Joseph, reading, “And Joseph died at the age of 110 years and he was embalmed and placed in a coffin in Egypt.” (Genesis 50:26) Jacob’s family settled in Egypt due to a famine, with Joseph as their protector. Joseph provided for the family and they lived well in Goshen for many decades. Once Joseph dies, their future is uncertain. They are vulnerable to the whims of new leaders. Indeed, in Exodus 1:8, a new king will arise who did not know Joseph and who will ultimately enslave the children of Israel for 400 years. Here we are in the United States, less than two weeks from Inauguration Day, and it feels as though the American Jewish community may be losing our protector, our “Joseph,” imperfect as this protector has been. 

We American Jews, particularly those of us who have light skin and who have built some wealth, have experienced a “Golden Age of American Jewry.” We have elevated our status by becoming “white,” by becoming part of the privileged class in this deeply unjust culture. And now the reins of leadership, at the highest levels in this country, have been given to individuals with a track record for inventing new (and reviving old) forms of oppression in order to maintain and further entrench their power. Those of us who are not white, Christian, wealthy, straight, and male, are profoundly vulnerable to the whims of this leadership. 

As we wait for what will unfold under the new administration, how do we cultivate our courage and compassion? How do we keep our spirits strong and strengthen our capacity to protect those in danger? Early in our parshah, Jacob/Israel blesses his grandsons by calling upon the “angel who redeems me from all harm.” (Genesis 48:16) We will need our protective angels and our spirit guides. 

One of my spirit guides for these times is our Biblical ancestor Miriam. She was born into a dark time in Egypt and she practiced prophetic leadership. We learn from a midrash that her father heard Pharaoh’s decree that Israelite baby boys should be thrown into the Nile and thus encouraged husbands to separate from their wives. Miriam helped him to understand that he was cutting off their future through this act which was based in fear, and they resumed intimate relations with their spouses. (Exodus Rabbah 1:13) Only through heeding Miriam’s guidance was Moses born. Miriam then served as a protector for her baby brother and facilitated his return home for his early years. She could see what was possible, beyond the dire straits her family was in, and she acted with gentle strength. I also imagine that Miriam carried her timbrel at all times, and when there was a quiet moment and taskmasters were not around, she would sing to the children and tell them stories, teaching them about their humanity and instilling in them hope. 

May we receive the blessing of Jacob’s protective angel, and may we receive inspiration from Miriam to protect one another with whatever vision and creativity we can muster, to continue to teach hope and dignity to our children. Let us be strong, strong, and strengthen each other!

This dvar torah was written for Truah’s M(oral) Torah and published here

I Believe in a God called Love: Dvar Torah for Parshat Vaera

Written for week of January 25, 2025

     We are living through heartbreaking and dangerous times. The year 2024 was the warmest year on record and the changing climate has brought ever more devastating droughts, floods, storms, and fires.  Over 100 million people around the world have been forcibly displaced from their homes due to conflict and violence. Many in our community here in Philadelphia are supporting loved ones who lost their homes in recent days in the LA fires.  So much loss, so much vulnerability.

  I am struggling with this week’s parasha, Vaera, which recounts the first seven of the ten plagues, the ten devastations performed by the Biblical God on the land and people of Egypt, as part of the plan to liberate the Israelite slaves from the rule of Pharaoh. While many family seders make light of the plagues with plague puppets or toys, this is not child’s play. The plagues are horror upon horror upon horror.  What kind of God is this?  

In the spirit of Abraham, who argued with God in an attempt to save Sodom and Gemorrah, I appeal to Moses, “Moses, why do you not pause and say to God, ‘Isn’t there another way?’”  What would I have done if God invited me to participate in the gruesome drama of the plagues?  In preparation for the first plague, God tells Moses to tell Aaron: “Take your rod and hold out your arm over the waters of Egypt—its rivers, its canals, its ponds, all its bodies of water— that they may turn to blood. There shall be blood throughout the land of Egypt, even in vessels of wood and stone.”  I would say to God, “No, I will not take part in turning the waters to blood.”  The waters are our lifeline.  I reject your plan to deepen the separation of “us” versus “them.”   There must be another way to free a people from oppression. I cannot follow this kind of God.  I believe in a God called Love.

Moses and Aaron didn’t question; rather, they did just as God had commanded. As Exodus 7:20 reports, he lifted up the rod and struck the water in the Nile in the sight of Pharaoh, and all the water was turned into blood, and the fish in the Nile died. The Nile stank so that the Egyptians could not drink the water and there was blood throughout the land.

I would refuse to lift up my rod and would not participate in removing the Egyptians’ access to clean drinking water. I am called to work on purifying the waters and building bridges among the peoples. I imagine seeking out BatYah, daughter of Pharaoh, the adoptive mother of Moses who saved him as a baby from her father’s death decree. We would work together and pray together and grow the love and peace among us.  

Since the escalation of the war in Israel-Palestine in October 2023, I have sought out teachers of peace-making. Some say that working towards peace is naive, but I know deep down that we are here to learn to love one another, to honor the humanity in each and every person.  I have been blessed to take a series of classes inspired by the diaries of Etty Hillesum.  Etty was a young Jewish woman living through the horrors of the 1940’s in Amsterdam, and her writings offer profound wisdom for navigating dark times.  These classes are co-taught by Emma Sham-Ba Ayalon, an Israeli rabbi and poet, and Dina Awwad-Srour, a Palestinian writer,  creators of the Etty Hillesum cards, who together model a beautiful friendship built on the courage to love one another.  

I close with a message of peace and care for all humanity from Etty’s diary: “We shall have to suffer and to share a great deal this winter; let us help one another to bear it: the cold, the darkness, and the hunger. Provided we know at the same time that we have to bear the winter together with the whole of humankind, including our so-called enemies, and provided we then feel part of one great whole, in the realization that we are only one of many fronts scattered all over the world.”

This dvar torah was published in the Philadelphia Jewish Exponent on 1/23/25