Women Launch the Exodus and Confront Book Banning in Jerusalem*—by Ayala Emmett

images-1The first day of 2016 featured women in politics. It happened in synagogues last Shabbat on January 1, as we read the opening chapters of the Book of Exodus in which six women make history and emerge as political catalysts. All are remarkably brave; all are women who make bold moves in the political/ethnic/religious arena of their time. Framed in contemporary political lexicon, the women speak truth to power, brand civil disobedience, and defy book banning and closing of the mind in Jerusalem. My reading of Torah within the current politics of book banning and fear-mongering in Jerusalem is informed by the idea that in a Jewish universe, word and world are in frequent dialogue. read more

Emailing With the President—by Ayala Emmett

I am delighted to get emails from the president that say, “I need you Ayala.” I know that emails from the president are mass-produced, yet they have a personal appeal for me because they use my first name. Yesterday, I got an email from President Obama asking me to join him, “before the ball drops and we close the books on 2015, will you join me and pitch in to help Democrats retake the Senate.” Since I like the spirit of being asked to join the president I respond to his appeal with a reciprocal email request: read more

What Happened To The Children’s Christmas Gifts?

Unaccompanied minors from Central America
Unaccompanied minors from Central America

President Obama celebrated Christmas in beautiful Hawaii, while his administration told children there would be no presents for them, and no Christmas cards saying peace and joy. When the knock would come on their door it would not be UPS with lovely presents; it would be government agents to send them back to places of terror.

These children and mothers, asylum seekers from Central America are fleeing unspeakable violence, and have risked their lives to come here, because remaining in their countries of origin is a death sentence. Yet the Obama administration decided that the week before Christmas would be an auspicious time to announce that it would intensify deportation of the mothers and children. Democratic presidential candidate Bernie Sanders rightly denounced the administration’s act as outrageous, “We need to take steps to protect children and families seeking refuge here, not cast them out. Our nation has always been a beacon of hope, a refuge for the oppressed.” read more

Who Cried With Sarah?—by Ayala Emmett

Abraham didn’t tell her. Sarah was never consulted. That was the way it had always been, powerful men ruled the public domain and subsumed the domestic sphere making decisions that deeply affected the family and women. Historically and with few exceptions, women life-givers were not invited to offer, resist, or refuse when life-taking decisions were made, when their sons were called to become warriors, to endure danger and face death.

Thinking history/midrash is how we know that when Abraham was going to sacrifice Isaac, he did it stealthily, early in the morning when she was sound asleep, not suspecting a thing. Abraham woke up his son before dawn, when it was still dark outside, motioned him to get dressed, brought his finger to his lips to caution that Isaac was not to make a sound. When Isaac moved his head in the direction of Sarah’s tent, his father whispered, “Later, you can greet your mother when we return.” Only two young servants accompanied father and son when they left the compound, so Isaac knew that it would be a short journey, a couple of hours and they would be back. On long journeys there would have been numerous slaves, male and female, to carry, cook and set up camp. That day, however, Isaac could tell that his father was tense and deep in thoughts. As the sun rose in the sky and Isaac could see his father’s face, he heard Abraham tell the servants to wait along the road, “we will worship and we will return,” and father and son walked on together toward the Akedah, the binding of Isaac on the alter. read more

We Bring Our Ancestors to America—by Ayala Emmett

I came to America with black and white and yellow photographs
rolled in oriental rugs.
Between the pages of the Exodus and inside the Haggadah
I saved the journey of my wandering ancestors.
They were refugees who crossed borders,
holding precious children and whispering hope.

In America I keep asking my ancestors,
“How did you survive when they expelled you from Spain?”
“Tell me how you escaped from Portugal?”
“Where was the shelter for religious tolerance in Amsterdam?”
“Is it still there next to the house of Anne Frank?”
“Did you write down the names of the Christian families
who saved our little cousins in the Holocaust?” read more

Finding Compassion on the Road to Nineveh—by Ayala Emmett

After the Nazis invaded Belgium in 1940, three of my cousins, ages two, five and nine, were saved by the compassion of Catholic families. Tragically, other family members did not survive as country after country closed its borders to Jewish refugees. When the Nazis were defeated in 1945 a worldwide slogan promised, “never again.” Over the years and most recently, the unbearable suffering of desperate refugees has reminded us that the promise “never again” has faded from memory. We realize now that compassion must be invoked, summoned and rekindled again and again. As nations like Hungary brutally shut their borders, leaders like Pope Francis, the Chief Rabbi of France and the former Chief Rabbi of England have engaged in infusing compassion by appealing for world empathy, concern and caring and urging immediate refugee relief. read more

A Rabbi’s Thoughts on Rosh Hashanah—by Peter Eisenstadt

A rabbi, in her study, a few hours before the beginning of the New Year, speaking to herself:
Oh jeez, its erev Rosh Hashanah, and I still have no idea what I am going to speak about in my sermon tonight. I’ve got to deal with my procrastination this year. Maybe that’s what I can talk about, how the calendar is inexorable, and time and tide wait for no one, etc., and calendar events like Rosh Hashanah force us out of our paths of least resistance, and make us change our behavior. Or maybe I could just say because I waited too long to write a good sermon, I wrote this one instead, and that’s what happens when you delay too long, and let it be a lesson to you. No, too meta, and it will go over too many people’s heads. Anyway, if I gave a bad sermon, most people probably wouldn’t notice anyway. read more

Torat HaAmitzot–By Ahavya Deutsch

3500 years ago, Batya, the daughter of Pharaoh, went down to the river to take a bath, and saved the Jewish people. Going about her daily life, she looked down and saw an infant abandoned in the river. No fool, she must have known this was a Hebrew baby. We are not told that she was a radical, an activist who rebelled against her father’s policies. But when she looked at the child, she did not see politics or religion. She simply saw a life that she could save. And in drawing Moses from the water, she saved us all. read more

Barefoot Reading: Using Torah Study to Confront Life and Death–By Deborah L.R. Kornfeld

Rabbi Hananyah said: “When people sit together and exchange words of Torah, the Shekinah abides between them.”(Pirka Avot, Chapter 3, perek 3)

In January 2014 four women started a Shabbat chavruta. For nineteen months we would meet at B.J’s dining room and over several cups of tea and a cookie or two, we talked Torah. Three of us were older women with grown children and growing grandchildren: we were an anthropologist, a writer and an occupational therapist and one of us was a young lawyer engaged in social justice and mothering two young children. It started out as a bikur cholim (the mitzvah of visiting the sick) project, but continued as an incubator for both new insights and social justice action read more

But repentance, prayer, and righteousness cancel the stern decree—by B.J. Yudelson*

This sentence ends the prayer that I discussed in my last blog, the one that begins, On Rosh Hashanah it is written and on Yom Kippur it is sealed…

I don’t recall noticing it the first half of my life. In my youth, the choir may have sung it in Hebrew, which I didn’t understand. If I recited it with the congregation, it was surely in English. The English may have been the same as what appears in my grandmother’s 1927 Reform Jewish prayer book: But Penitence, Prayer, and Charity avert the evil decree. read more