Dear friends,
Light is returning, that pathway of return in nature’s cycles is always so reassuring. And seemingly, with that light, dear friends come home from their travels, other friends step into shul after months away, babies are born, souls are remembered.
Our liturgical cycle is similarly both dependable and familiar and can also be adapted to new circumstances. When we consider how our traditions and teachings have hold a sense of permanence, perhaps seeming rigid in their timelessness, I offer an observation from Jacob Neusner again. Neusner states so succinctly, …”never obliterates the former culture, but rather entails the translation of the new into the idiom of the old, so that in the end it results in a modification of both.” Neusner was speaking of peoples in the Second century BCE adapting o the teachings of early Pharisees, but he could be speaking of today. Baby namings for girls, women counted in a minyan, new liturgies and songs – think of Hadar and other musicians who have transformed much of what we think of as Jewish music. Change doesn’t replace the old, but enhances and grows how we meet with each other and with God. Change can allow us to hear our own heartbeat differently, and listen with each other with greater compassion.
At this time of year, with so many Jews who are in interfaith relationships, who have chosen to become Jews, I am always deeply touched by the verses in our Torah reading this week, Vayigash. Jacob is introduced to Pharaoh by his son Joseph. Jacob blessed Pharaoh, and the record notes a brief exchange, “How are you?” How have your days been?” I have always seen these two aged men, both of whom loved Joseph, sitting on the porch of the palace. Two now-elderly men reflecting on the good, and the bad of their days. Two men who come from very different backgrounds, but who, through their love for Joseph come together and share the stories of their lives. It is a moment of Torah to remember.
With love, with light,
Rabbi Lynn
Vayigash
December 23, 2025 by Rabbi Lynn Greenhough • From the Rabbi's Desk
Dear friends,
Light is returning, that pathway of return in nature’s cycles is always so reassuring. And seemingly, with that light, dear friends come home from their travels, other friends step into shul after months away, babies are born, souls are remembered.
Our liturgical cycle is similarly both dependable and familiar and can also be adapted to new circumstances. When we consider how our traditions and teachings have hold a sense of permanence, perhaps seeming rigid in their timelessness, I offer an observation from Jacob Neusner again. Neusner states so succinctly, …”never obliterates the former culture, but rather entails the translation of the new into the idiom of the old, so that in the end it results in a modification of both.” Neusner was speaking of peoples in the Second century BCE adapting o the teachings of early Pharisees, but he could be speaking of today. Baby namings for girls, women counted in a minyan, new liturgies and songs – think of Hadar and other musicians who have transformed much of what we think of as Jewish music. Change doesn’t replace the old, but enhances and grows how we meet with each other and with God. Change can allow us to hear our own heartbeat differently, and listen with each other with greater compassion.
At this time of year, with so many Jews who are in interfaith relationships, who have chosen to become Jews, I am always deeply touched by the verses in our Torah reading this week, Vayigash. Jacob is introduced to Pharaoh by his son Joseph. Jacob blessed Pharaoh, and the record notes a brief exchange, “How are you?” How have your days been?” I have always seen these two aged men, both of whom loved Joseph, sitting on the porch of the palace. Two now-elderly men reflecting on the good, and the bad of their days. Two men who come from very different backgrounds, but who, through their love for Joseph come together and share the stories of their lives. It is a moment of Torah to remember.
With love, with light,
Rabbi Lynn