Sermons & Stories

Shabbat Shalom!

My original intention was to share a silly story to lift your spirits. Raymond was joking about singing the prayer, “Roll into Dark” tonight, but we agreed that it might be too soon after the week we had. But instead of a silly story, it made more sense to share some true ones.

For in parshat Terumah we learn how to build a mishkan, a tabernacle - A portable temple made of the finest materials. It was a suitable dwelling place for God as the Israelites dwelled in Ma Tovu Ohalecha Yaakov – beautiful tents during their stay Bamidbar, in the wilderness. There were no pipes, no running water, no freezing temperatures, no snow or ice. It was still the wilderness and the Israelites worked together and leaned on each other and gave what they could to create a mishkan for God and a community for themselves.

I spent this past week talking or texting or emailing with many of you and I heard many stories of challenge and difficulty. I also heard many stories of g’milut chesed and hachnasat orchim – acts of loving kindness and hospitality… stories of working together, leaning on each other, and defining what it means to be a community.

Many people needed a place to stay during the power outage – including my family and I – and people took in friends or family or even strangers. “How can I help,” was the phrase I heard most often. People connecting to people. So when an elderly couple was leaving their senior living facility to go outside in the freezing cold to fill up a bucket of snow so they could flush their toilet – we were able to send water their way.

I’ve commented at times that in some respects we’ve lost that ancient sense of hospitality. This week’s showed me that I was wrong. Water or groceries were delivered. Shop vacs were offered, hotel reservations were exchanged… transportation, emergency assistance, the extended use of a house – such generosity! And warmth and compassion and concern for others were a part of every conversation. People without power, with water damage and more – would ask – is everyone else alright? Rabbi, how are you, how’s your family?

And there’s been so much damage. Burst pipes, flooding – it’s been overwhelming for some. And on top of the cold and the disruption and the devastation in some cases, COVID hasn’t gone away and our usual problems haven’t gone away. Many times during the week I wanted to and many times I did say, Adonai our God - Dayeinu! Enough!

Everything shut down last year after Purim. Here we are a year later. Part of me feels like God has been laughing at us for an entire year – laughing at our arrogance and our pettiness. Part of me feels like God has been screaming at us to wake up and learn that we don’t have control, learn to appreciate what’s really important.

Whether it’s God or the universe or however you understand these things, it got my attention. On Monday night as I sat around a candle lit dinner in the freezing cold with a birthday meal I cooked in someone else’s kitchen, I felt humility and I felt extreme gratitude. All throughout the week, that was the sentiment that I heard reflected back at me over and over again – in addition to the fear and disbelief and frustration – more than anything else, I heard humility and extreme gratitude.

This is what the Israelites had to learn before they could build the mishkan, a sanctuary for God. And this week, I saw this congregation caring for one another in deep and profound ways and I felt fortunate to be a part of this kehillah kedoshah – this sacred community.

Shabbat Shalom.