I will be in Winnipeg for the reading of Bereshit – a very special beginning. Rabbi Allan Finkel, who was present for my installation as rabbi of Kolot Mayim, will be installed as rabbi of Winnipeg’s Temple Shalom. I will be staying with family friends – which is good as many of the hotels are being set aside for people who have been displaced from their housing due to the recent very early and very heavy snowfalls in Manitoba.
We are still in the cycles of Tishrei holidays; from preparations for Rosh Hashanah through Kol Nidre and Yom Kippur to Sukkot/Hoshanah Rabbah, Shmini Atzeret and Simchat Torah, we have one long journey of joy. This year our Federal election is on the day of Shmini Atzeret and the evening of first night Simchat Torah – I think instead of dancing with a Sefer Torah in our arms, many of us will be glued to the news.
You have been very kind, sending me messages of condolence after the death of my brother David. I thought I would share with you a few words I sent to India, to be read at his funeral.
We send love to David’s wife, Theresa and to all who loved David. We are David’s siblings Lynn, Anne, and Ted Greenhough; Lynn’s husband Aaron Devor and Ted’s wife, Michelle. We have been receiving many messages of love and support – and shock – at the news of David dying so precipitously.
We are days away from celebrating our New Year, Rosh HaShanah, some of us are making lists of groceries to buy, preparing special desserts, baking round challot, checking to see if we have our supply of honey in. I am practicing my singing to re-embed the special melodies, the nusach, for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Our holidays bring a measure of preparation with them, as do all special occasions. The taste, the flavours, the tam of each holiday is unique and special.
Imagine being on the other side of Torah. We read these words, and we “hear” them perhaps, often as if we were speaking these words to ourselves, but imagine if we were there (wherever there is – maybe here?) and we were listening. Lots of words are going by us, hour after hour – how are we ever going to remember all these details? We may be hungry, we may need to sit down, our children are fussy, and still, Moshe goes on and on about what we need to know. Remind you of some synagogue services you have sat through?
Shavua tov. This has truly been a week of joyful celebration as simcha has followed simcha. We were blessed on Kabbalat Shabbat to hear from inspiring guest speakers including Dr. Joel Fagan, Rabbi Allan Finkel and Dr. Pekka Sinervo, all introduced by Kolot Mayim members. I was very honoured to be introduced by our hard-working president Sharon Shalinsky, who presented me – and us – with a gift from the congregation. We now have a beautiful silver yad to use when reading Torah. This is a wonderful example of hiddur mitzvah – trying to make each mitzvah shine with beauty! And then again, Sunday afternoon, a joyful crowd gathered.
How do I begin to thank everyone for coming to celebrate with us, for making meaningful donations to Kolot Mayim, for helping with set-up and clean-up, for helping with photography and Power Point slideshows, for helping organize both the Friday night service and the Sunday afternoon tea? For all the ways we have come together as a community, I thank you all. This truly is a taste of what we can do together when we bring honour to our beloved Kolot Mayim community within the larger community of Victoria. I will be going to Winnipeg for Rabbi Allan’s installation in late October (I have been assured that there will not yet be snow on the ground), and I know I will be bringing him a yasher koach from all who met him.
I know many of you were moved by his words to us, and by Rabbi Allan’s challenge to us from Shoftim, last week’s Torah reading. Tzedek, tzedek tirdof; Justice, justice you shall pursue. Many years ago, in my reading about the Shoah, I was brought into my deep knowledge that it was a necessity for me to be part of rebuilding justice in a world that had turned its back on this holy command. But I chose to become a Jew – and stay a Jew – not because of the darkness of the Shoah, but because of the beauty and dignity of the treasure we all have inherited – a Jewish tradition that always honours life, a culture that demands we work together to achieve justice for all, and a deep history of valuing the light of learning. I am honoured to now hold the baton – and now the yad – in this continuing cycle of learning and pursuit of justice. Much love and gratitude to you all, Rabbi Lynn
Very briefly, as you will be hearing from me over Shabbat and next Sunday. I want to invite you into an Elul journey.
Elul is understood to be a month of preparation for the next new moon – Rosh Hashanah. We traditionally take time to forgive ourselves for deeds we haven’t been willing to face into. We try to forgive others if they have hurt us, even if we have been unwilling to let go of that grain of hurt/sand, (even though usually we end up with a sore heart and not a pearl).
This Elul, while we do this work, I am offering another challenge. Today is 1 Elul. We count forward to 29 Elul. Let’s make an Elul jar, where we do some reckoning of ourselves as Jews. Each day write down a question you have, a fear or a failing you may feel, or write about a small gift you would like to bring us. Think about who you are in this lifetime, and ask yourself how you could bring more of who you are into these coming days. On Rosh Hashanah we will bring our scraps of paper and our scraps of selves to services. We will make a pile, mix them up, and then read through and discuss some of our thoughts.
“Before his death, Rabbi Zusya said “In the coming world, they will not ask me: ‘Why were you not Moses?’ They will ask me: ‘Why were you not Zusya?”
Chodesh tov, Shavua tov,
It has been a week since our beloved mother, Mary Greenhough, died. I have had many notes and calls of consolation from many of you, and I want to tell each of you how grateful I am to all of you. We have been swimming in food, in cake, but most of all love. As a result, even in this time of loss, I have never felt lost, and I have never felt alone. Thank you.
Mum died and began her journey of “going home” during the week of journeys, of Matot-Masei. Yet, as we move forward, we must also reflect back on what has been. This week we open the book of words, of Devarim. Even as we try to capture a lifetime in a hesped, the words of eulogy at a funeral, Moses, in Devarim, tried to capture and re-tell the most salient points of the past 40 years for the Israelites to remember as they prepare to enter the Land. “Eileh devarim, these are the words”….he begins. In Chapter 1 verse 9, Moses says to the people. “I cannot carry you alone.” None of us can move forward alone. Like Moses, we need each other to bring us wisdom and understanding, good judgement and diligent help. I am so grateful to be part of our Kolot Mayim community and of the Jewish community beyond our own home.
In my mother’s honour I would like to observe Tisha B’Av this Saturday night, August 10th . We will read sections of the book of Eichah, as we mourn the destruction of the Temple, of Jerusalem, and of the catastrophes that have befallen us as a people.
This has been a wonderful first year at Kolot Mayim for me. We have learned Torah together, we have rearranged where we meet (Deli side), we have begun new duties (Char Ashford has taken on being our Gabbai) and last week we started what I hope will be a regular Friday night Shabbat dinner together with our “Shabbat is in the Bag” evening. We have welcomed new members and welcomed returning members; during this coming year we will be working towards continuing that increase in our membership.
I am beginning to make plans for the coming year – for Yontif services and celebrations, for classes and learning together. But the engine we call Kolot Mayim doesn’t run on my fuel alone! We need participation. This week in our Torah reading, Pinchas, another census is taken, to establish rights of inheritance of the Land that the Israelites will soon dwell within. Establishing those numbers and their due was important. Today as we think about building Kolot Mayim, our numbers also reflect our intention to bring our voice into the larger Jewish world. URJ has suggested that each congregation build a voice of “audacious hospitality” and I hope that all of us together are living up to that phrase.
Some ideas for new classes were voiced at the AGM, and new ideas for how we can structure services – but in order for these ideas to move forward we need to work together. We are a congregation of many talents. Please be in touch with me and let me know what you would like to contribute, what you would like to learn to do so that together we truly can make Kolot Mayim truly synonymous with welcome and inclusion and a genuine “audacious hospitality.”
Wishing everyone a wonderful summer of visits and picnics, of some time for renewal and reflection as we look ahead to coming together again in September. I am truly honoured to be Rabbi at Kolot Mayim, and look forward immensely to working with each of you over the coming year.
I am honoured to be at a Bat Mitzvah ceremony this Thursday, July 18, with the family and friends of Annie Marcovitz. The following text is Annie’s D’var Torah, which I thought would be a lovely way to share her simcha with Kolot Mayim members. The photograph is the challah cover that Annie mentions.
Hello everyone, thank you for coming to my Bat Mitzvah, especially to those who come from far away. I’m really excited to have everyone here. My parsha is Balak where we meet the original talking donkey, not the one from Shrek.
The Israelites are making their slow way to Moab. The Moabite King, Balak, feels that the Israelites are going to take over his land, that they might overwhelm and overpower Moab. The Moabites said, “Now the congregation (of Israel) will lick up our entire surroundings, as an ox licks up the greenery of the field.” In response, King Balak sent multiple messages to the wizard Balaam… to put a curse on the Israelites – but Balaam refused. He talked to God and God told him that, “You shall not go with them, you shall not curse the people for it is blessed.” Finally, Balaam agrees to go with the messengers, but he tells the messengers he will only speak the words that God puts in his mouth.
Balaam begins his journey while riding his donkey, who will soon be that talking donkey I mentioned earlier. God decided that He didn’t want Balaam to go to King Balak, so God sent an angel holding a sword to block their path. God only let the donkey see the angel, while Balaam only saw a clear pathway ahead. The donkey sensed danger, and it started to back up into a fence. Balaam started to strike his donkey. God then opened the donkey’s mouth and the donkey asked Balaam, “Why are you hitting me?” Balaam hit the donkey three times before he saw the angel holding a big sword. The angel spoke to Balaam, saying that Balaam should be grateful to his donkey because if he had gone any further the angel would have killed Balaam and let the donkey go.
What could possibly be the message that comes from this story of a talking donkey and a wizard? I think Balaam should have trusted his loyal donkey. But he didn’t – it is almost like Balaam was wearing donkey-blinders. Balaam finally saw the angel after he had beaten his donkey three times. The angel of God didn’t kill Balaam, and again Balaam said he could only speak the words that God put in his mouth. God through the angel gave Balaam a second chance, and Balaam finally recognized the donkey was seeing something he couldn’t. I think if someone has been truthful and loyal in the past, don’t lash out on them because of a misunderstanding. Maybe we find out later that we were at fault, that our eyes were closed to the truth. We are all humans. Or donkeys.
Maybe this section of Torah is trying to teach us to trust, just like Balaam should have trusted his donkey. Sometimes we may misunderstand what our friends are doing. It is important that we put ourselves in their shoes, to understand their actions. If this person has helped you, or been there for you or done anything else that has earned your friendship then they still deserve our respect depending on the mistake. Often times, their actions were to help you just like the donkey was helping Balaam.
Three years ago when we moved here from Toronto, we lost a couple of boxes in the moving process. One of the things that we lost were two very special challah covers. They were made by my great Bubbie – she sewed and embroidered these challah covers – we believed we would never see these precious challah covers again. Last year before Passover, we were grocery shopping at Congregation Emanu-El, the Conservative synagogue downtown. Before we left we decided to look in the gift shop for anything to add to our collection of Passover tchotchkes. There was a small basket of challah covers, and we found one that looked very familiar. We decided to buy it. We thought it might be one of the Hallah covers that we lost in the move. We asked for photos of the families other challah covers and we found it was the exact same pattern and exact same colours. We came to the conclusion that the moving company had delivered the box to the wrong house – the
people had given the cloth to Congregation Emanu-El and two years later we were there to find it and buy it back.
So how does this story of the lost-and-found challah cover tie in with the story of Balaam and Balak and the people Israel? I believe that our stories are linked because I feel like our eyes were closed to the challah cover and then re-opened – for a reason. That reason was to appreciate the challah cover even more – after it found its way back to us. To me it symbolizes our destiny, or to use a Jewish word – bashert.
Most of my family has a similar challah cover made by my great Bubbe. It feels like each of us were supposed to have one, it is a distinctive family treasure and every Friday night I think of my great Bubbe and how special it is that we got it back. After Balaam’s eyes had been opened and he had understood the donkey’s actions, he must have appreciated the donkey much more for being protective and saving
his life. The challah cover didn’t save our lives but it did make us
appreciate it and its story after our eyes had been opened and we had found it.
In conclusion, we can relate the story of Balak and the talking donkey to our everyday lives in so many ways. It teaches us empathy and kindness, to never assume someone else’s position and to try to be understanding of someone else’s position and situations