Shabbat Shalom

Another Gathering of Sadness and Joy: Commemorating Oct. 7 and Celebrating Torah

Let us start by acknowledging sad realities. For the rest of human history, the attacks of Oct. 7, 2023, the day before Simchat Torah, will impact how we approach the last of the fall holidays. No matter how close or how far Oct. 7 is from Simchat Torah on the Gregorian calendar in any given year, its Hebrew date remains the same. The two are linked now. Would that they weren’t. We can’t change the facts, but we can think carefully about the balance between sadness and joy, just as we did when the 25th anniversary of 9/11 fell on Rosh Hashanah.

No one  will forget where they were three years ago. Here at TAI, it was Arly Weinstein’s Bat Mitzvah and Simchat Torah. We put sadness and anger on hold for three hours or so, then went home to weep. For communities that celebrate eight days of Sukkot, Simchat Torah was the following day. That wasn’t easy, either. A community commemoration, a gathering of grief, was held six days later.

So here we are. Tonight we will begin with sadness: personal, communal and historical. Just like Yom Kippur and the other two pilgrimage festivals (Passover and Shavuot), Sukkot includes Yizkor. This gathering of grief and remembrance affords us a time and place to mourn for family members, community members and all of our people whom we have loved and lost. This includes the victims of the Oct. 7 terrorist attacks. We will read “Blessed is The Match” by World War II resistance warrior and martyr Hannah Senesh, and sing another of her works, “Eli, Eli,” to honor the memory of those who were slaughtered three years ago.

Then, as tradition requires of us, we will move into joy. Celebrating with song and dance as we process through the sanctuary with two Torah scrolls, reading from Deuteronomy and Genesis, ending the cycle of study and restarting it all over again. Just like three years ago, our reader will be Arly Weinstein, who remained poised, focused and inspiring, even though aware of what had just transpired. May we defy terror and extremism by celebrating Torah, clinging to tradition, and, in a world beset by sadness, making room for joy.

Shabbat Shalom and Chag Sameach,
Rabbi David Wirtschafter

Ushpizin and the Power of Poetry

Ushpizin is the custom of welcoming biblical ancestors into the Sukkah. It begins with paragons of hospitality, Abraham and Sarah, and extends from there.

This year provides us with an opportunity to take the concept even further. Make this Sukkot an occasion to welcome poets into your sukkah, be it one of the great Israeli, Hebrew-speaking or American Jewish writers you love, or the late great Wendell Berry, our remarkable Kentucky sage, activist and educator. Think of the seven- to eight-day festival as an opportunity to choose a great poet each night. Alternatively, think of each day as an opportunity to select a theme and read several poems by different writers that speak to it.

Here is a suggested progression to the thematic approach. Feel free to create a progression that speaks to you.

• Day 1: Hospitality — Hachnasat or’chim
• Day 2: Love — Ahava
• Day 3: Reverence — Year
• Day 4: Gratitude — Hodaya
• Day 5: Creation — B’reishit
• Day 6: Generosity — Tzedakah
• Day 7: Respect/Reverence — Kavod
• Day 8: Joy — Simcha

May your celebration of Sukkot be enriched with poetry and may poetry be enhanced by Sukkot.

Shabbat Shalom and Chag Sameach,
Rabbi David Wirtschafter

Day of Remembrance, Day of Rest: A Prayer
for Rosh Hashanah and Shabbat

With the arrival of Shabbat and the New Year, let us reflect on the two sacred times sharing one day.

Shabbat celebrates the completion of creation.

Rosh Hashanah celebrates the birthday of the world.

Shabbat is known as a day of rest.

Rosh Hashanah is known as a day of remembrance.

Shabbat invites us to cherish liberty through cessation of work.

Rosh Hashanah urges us to accept responsibility through the work of repentance.

May the light of both days illuminate our journey.

May the wine of both days sweeten our lives.

May the challah of both days nourish our souls.

May the song of both days fill our ears.

May the prayer of both days be answered.

And may both days bless us with peace.

Shanah Tovah and Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi David Wirtschafter

Bard of the Bluegrass

Kentucky is known throughout the country for bourbon, basketball and bluegrass. But we Kentuckians know there is an equally important fourth “B” that makes our commonwealth special — our books. Our writers might not be as well-known as our greatest boxer, wealthiest business founder, longest-serving officeholder or winningest coach, but what they have contributed to Kentucky, our nation and our world is every bit as significant. Through a life devoted to letters, Wendell Berry leaves behind a body of work that will not be forgotten. It is poetically fitting that in a week when our Torah portion, Nitzavim-Vayeilech, prepares us for the death of Moses, we are forced to bid farewell to the Bard of the Bluegrass, The Poet of Port Royal, The Laureate in Chief of Limestone literature.

No less than three of Berry’s poems appear in our High Holy Days prayer book. Rabbis and Jewish writers around the world are mourning his death. Two nights ago, at Central Baptist Church, his daughter, Mary Berry, read his 9/11 essay, “In the Presence of Fear,” to a gathering of every faith, race and political persuasion found in our city, where he studied agriculture, taught writing, raised a family and went to church. He wrote of his love of the land, concern for the planet, dismay at our destructiveness and passion for purpose.

Like Moses before him, there were many who dismissed Berry as harsh and cranky, an outraged and out-of-touch dreamer refusing to accept reality. And like Moses before him, there were many who cherished his words, believed in his message and valued his leadership. What he warned us about has come to pass. What he urged us to take greater notice of is suffering from neglect. What he told us to be weary of is taking ever greater hold of our lives. Like Moses, he reminded us that we are not stupid, feeble and helpless. The capacity to meet our challenges is among our greatest gifts. “It is near to you and in your hearts that you may do it.” We are not doomed and we need not despair.

It is worth pointing out that our Torah portion draws to an end with the words: “Moses wrote this down in a poem.” A poet’s words are more than something we memorize or mention when the mood strikes us. They nest in our conscience and root in our soul. We can no more rid ourselves of them then we could choose to keep breathing. The life of Wendell Berry, like that of Moses, is now relegated to the past. The legacy of our beloved Limestone Laureate lives on. May his memory be a blessing.

Please bring a favorite Wendell Berry poem or two with you to services and sign up to read it during oneg (social time) after our worship is completed.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi David Wirtschafter

Sermon Suspended: Bring Your Story to Services!

You shall take some of every first fruit of the soil, which you harvest from the land that God is giving you, put it in a basket and go to the place where the ETERNAL your God will choose. You shall go to the priest and say, “I acknowledge this day before the ETERNAL your God that I have entered the land that GOD swore to our ancestors.” The priest shall take the basket from your hand and set it down in front of the altar. You shall then recite as follows before your God: “My ancestors were Arameans. We went down to Egypt with meager numbers and sojourned there; but there we became a great and very populous nation. The Egyptians dealt harshly with us and oppressed us; they imposed heavy labor upon us. We cried to God who heard our plea and saw our plight, our misery and our oppression. God freed us from Egypt by a mighty hand, by an outstretched arm and awesome power, and by signs and portents, bringing us to this place and giving us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. And so, I now bring the first fruits of the soil that You, O God, have given me.”

You shall leave the basket and bow low before your God.
(Deuteronomy 26:2-10)

Technically speaking, you could have a baby-naming ceremony but never ask the parents to speak about the names they have chosen for their child. It is possible to have a wedding without sharing what the couple loves about each other. You could hold a funeral without the eulogies and still fulfill the commandments pertaining to burial. But why on earth would you? The stories are the best part, says the 50-something rabbi who loved storytime as a kid and still does as an adult.

This week’s Torah portion, Ki Tavo, understands that storytelling is what makes ritual personal. If the above verses were only about the Temple collecting its due, then there would be no need for contributors to share their narrative. Storytelling is what keeps something wonderfully relational when it could have lapsed into something purely transactional.

So rather than a sermon, a Torah commentary or a series of poems coming from me, the storytellers will be you. Please come to services tonight ready to tell a story about what brought you to where you are now. What have you been through to get here? What are you grateful for, and what do you want to bring to this place? You need not have any fruit. You need not have a basket. You need not have a document to read from. All I’m asking for is a story no longer than the one shared above that comes from the heart.

May our Shabbat prayers and rituals be enhanced by your stories and may your stories enhance our Shabbat.

Kol Tuv (Goodness in All Things),
Rabbi David Wirtschafter

Gentle Hearts: A Prayer for Parshat Eikev

“Cut away the thickening about your hearts and stiffen your necks no more. For the ETERNAL your God is God supreme and Sovereign supreme, the great, the mighty, and the awesome God, who shows no favor and takes no bribe, but upholds the cause of the orphan and the widow, and befriends the stranger, providing food and clothing. — You too must befriend the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”  Deuteronomy 10:16-19)

Growing a thick skin is a double-edged sword. We need enough toughness to absorb criticism, laugh at ourselves and pick ourselves up from disappointment. But toughness is not an attribute if it desensitizes us to the pain of others, dulling our perception and diminishing our empathy. Our ancestors had to grow thick skins to survive slavery and the desert journey. Surviving such things does not afford much room for fragility.

This week’s Torah portion correctly articulates an emotional truth. Enduring suffering is no guarantee of being kind to others. We must be instructed, reminded and actively encouraged to view surviving injustice not as license to perpetuate or permit suffering but as a duty to prevent it happening to anyone.

This beautiful and brutal world demands toughness and tenderness. May we never allow what our people have endured to serve as an excuse for hard hearts and stubborn minds. May we practice mercy, charity, compassion and righteousness whenever and wherever it is needed. May our hearts be moved to kindness, and may kindness cut away the thickening of our hearts.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi David Wirtschafter

Anniversary of a Bat Mitzvah: Va-et’chanan and My Wonderful Daughter

Ten years ago this sabbath, our daughter, Emanuelle Wirtschafter Sippy, was called to the Torah at Temple Adath Israel. It was the first and only b’nai mitzvah I did as a father and a full-time congregational rabbi. When Zachariah’s service was held in Minneapolis, I was teaching part-time and serving a monthly pulpit in Iowa. This was different. Ten years later it still has a special place in my heart. That I could share this service with our family and with all of you was a tremendous gift. For both of our children to be confirmed at the congregation where I was consecrated and for Emanuelle to be become bat-mitzvah is wonderfully meaningful.

It is again parshat Va-et’chanan, in which we hear the Sh’ma, V’ahavta and a repetition of the Ten Commandments. Music from Shir Adat will reinforce the importance of these words, and alternative translations in “Mishkan T’filah” will help us reflect on what they mean. The commandment to listen and understand, Sh’ma!, and the one to love God and one another, V’ahavta, with everything we have were a perfect fit for my daughter and a powerful encapsulation of our relationship to one another and as congregation and rabbi. After Emanuelle’s long and exciting year in Israel, I am looking forward to her returning home next month and hoping she can remain with us through Rosh HaShanah before returning to Israel.

Please join us at Kollel tomorrow, when we will continue our conversation about the role of love in Judaism, and at Torah Study, where we will discuss contemporary commentaries on this classic portion. May our love of God and one another deepen through time and grow throughout the generations.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi David Wirtschafter

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Shabbat Chazon: A Metaphor for Our Annual Meeting

Tisha B’Av, the ninth day of the month of Av, corresponding to July 22 and 23 this year, is a time to fast and mourn the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem. According to tradition, the first and second Temples were destroyed on this date. The Shabbat before the fast day is called Shabbat Chazon, the Shabbat of Vision, for on this Shabbat we read a chapter from the Prophets (Isaiah 1:1-27) that begins, “The vision of Isaiah … .”

In partnership with OZS, Tisha B’Av services will be at TAI at 8:45 p.m. Tuesday. The Book of Lamentations, Eichah, customary songs of mourning and contemporary poems confronting loss, will be read and sung. Those who can are invited to sit on the floor. In lieu of our regular lighting, the sanctuary will be lit only by flashlight and candles.

But before we get to Tisha B’Av we have the Sabbath of Vision, and vision is a good way to think about our annual meeting this Sunday. In addition to reviewing our budget, approving our slate of officers and directors, and thanking those who make this place what it is, the annual meeting is an opportunity to share our vision for the year ahead.

Whether your passion is worship, education, cultural/recreational programs, community engagement or social justice, the annual meeting is the time and place to learn about what we are planning and ask questions about what you would like to see. What makes the annual meeting “congregational” is not the staff or the board, but you, our congregants. Without your presence, participation and perspective, our vision is incomplete. Please make every effort to attend and encourage fellow members to do likewise.

Shabbat Shalom and See You Sunday,
Rabbi David Wirtschafter

Thoughts for Our Nation’s Semiquincentenniaal: Mutual Dependency and the Value of Independence

Like parents of most American young people these days, I’ve listened to the soundtrack of “Hamilton” a lot. I’m not an expert, but I know this musical well enough to embarrass my twentysomething children whenever I try to sing it. A few years ago, I sat down with my daughter to write a parody based on the “Hamilton” song “You’ll Be Back” for the bar mitzvah of a family friend. Two students at the Reconstructionist Rabbinical College made a “Hamilton”-themed Haggadah. Perhaps it had nothing to do with the “Hamilton” sensation, but a few summers ago, at my daughter’s musical theater camp, the director chose to do “1776,” which focuses on the days leading to the signing of the Declaration of Independence. With so many “revolutionary” musicals to enjoy, I’ve taken to musing about the value of the independence they dramatically explore.

Judaism certainly has things to say about independence. From Exodus to Deuteronomy, Torah tells us about the quest for national independence, the story of a people seeking freedom from slavery, a home of their own, and the freedom to formulate their own laws. Maimonides, writing in the Middle Ages, stressed the value of financial independence when he famously asserted that the highest form of charity is to make someone self-sufficient so they no longer depend on the generosity of others. In 1948, the State of Israel issued its own Declaration of Independence. Like its American predecessor, it serves as an aspirational document, a statement of purpose and commitment to values that form the core of a national identity.

Yet Judaism also emphasizes the notion that being dependent is part of our human condition. Torah repeatedly admonishes us to practice kindness, generosity and compassion toward any and all “dependents” in our lives, be they children, parents, employees, the poor, the hungry or the stranger. The Talmud teaches that “everyone is responsible for one another.” Mutual reliance and accountability bind us in a moral compact. The “I-It, I-Thou” concept of the modern Jewish philosopher Martin Buber argues that everything is relational and every part of life is rooted in relationships.

Abraham Joshua Heschel, a contemporary of Buber, didn’t title one of his books “The Insecurity of Freedom” for nothing. Freedom, as has often been noted, involves “freedom from” and “freedom to.” It is entirely possible that one could be forced into doing a good thing and freely choose to make a terrible mistake. Judaism strives to balance dependence and independence, just as each of us endeavors to do in our own lives. The independence we cherish is dependent on the dedication of others. As we approach the 250th anniversary of Independence Day and reflect on the meaning of what Jefferson defined as “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness,” let’s consider the rights and responsibilities that come from the blessing of living in a democracy where being dependent and independent are profoundly intertwined.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi David Wirtschafter