“A Turning Point In Time”

Parashat Veetchanan 5766
Rabbi Judith Schindler

I love Yiddush proverbs. They are simple and so true. I keep three books of such proverbs above my desk to lighten my mind when it is burdened, to touch my soul when it needs inspiration, or to bring laughter to my lips.

These Proverbs offer me wisdom to guide my life:
“You can’t sit on two horses with one behind.” The generation of my grandparents taught.
“If you’re going to do something wrong, enjoy it!”
Or “As the wallet grows, so do the needs.”

Yet what I, and all of us, needed this past week was not humor but hope.
For this past week was difficult for Jews across the globe.
In our world, this past week, we saw destruction.
In our Torah, this past week, we saw despair.
And in our holiday cycle, we saw devastation.

Our world, this past week, witnessed the continued violence on Israel’s Lebanese border. Israelis in the North of Israel spent these hottest days of summer listening to the blaring of alarms signaling attacks and continually calling them into shelters. They repeatedly heard rockets falling and the cries of bereft families. And then there were the military operations such as Qana which led our Israeli armies to tragically kill of Lebanese civilians -- adult and children alike – in their effort to eradicate terrorism.

Even in the comfort of my home in Charlotte, the process of going to sleep each night to CNN and waking up each morning to the New York Times was painful. Promises of ceasefires were quickly broken, diplomatic efforts repeatedly failed.

As Job, in his pain and suffering, cries out to God, “Just look away from me for a while and let me be.” We similarly cry out to God, “Just let Israel be for a time. Let Israel be free of attacks. Let Israel be free of the world’s harsh judgment and unfair criticism. Let Israel, even if just for a short while, enjoy peace with its neighbors and tranquility within its borders.”

Our holiday cycle, this past week, witnessed devastation as well. For yesterday was the mournful day of Tisha B’av, the ninth of Av, when we remembered the smoking ashes of our First Temple burnt to the ground in 586 BCE and our second Temple similarly demolished on that very day in 70 of the Common Era. On that day, we lost our spiritual home of the Temple and our physical home of Jerusalem. We were impoverished exiles.

And mirroring the despair of our holiday cycle and current events, this week in our Torah, we witnessed Moses’ overwhelming grief. The name of this parashah is Vaetchanan, and Moses’ pleads with God to enter the Promised Land.

Moses was a great negotiator. He came to our defense on countless occasions and convinced God not to destroy us as a people. But today, God does not cave into Moses’ appeals. “Enough!” God says, “Never speak to me of this matter again.” Moses must die. Joshua will succeed him.

This past week has been difficult on so many levels, but we can find hope in the fact that this Shabbat represents a turning point in our calendar.

This Shabbat has a special name. It is called Shabbat Nachamu, the Sabbath of Comfort. After the devastation of losing our Temple on Tisha B’av, God speaks to us through this week’s haftarah saying, “ Nachamu, nachamu ami… be comforted, be comforted my people.” The double repetition reflects that we are meant to be comforted not only from our tragedies of the past but from our present day trials as well.

On this Shabbat, we are meant to find comfort and to bring comfort – to Israel and to one another.

Moses is afraid of his death. But in the midrash, God call out to him and says, “I will not send any angel to take you. I myself will take your soul with a kiss.” God brings comfort by being with him.

We can bring comfort to those in Israel by being with them.
• by sending emails and letters of concern.
• by sending funds to help those who have been forced from their homes in these hottest days of summer.
• by helping communities in the North of Israel to rebuild what they have lost.

And we can bring comfort to one another by holding fast to hope. For as author Yisreal Rutman notes, “In the macrocosm, the ups and downs of history would seem to support … that there is reason to hope for a better future. Ancient idolatry was superseded by monotheism; the Dark Ages was eventually followed by the Renaissance; Nazism was vanquished by the Allies. The light may often be slow in coming, but darkness has never been a permanent decree.” (Jewish World Website, August 2, 2006)

The word “Hatikvah – the hope” is not only our Israeli National anthem, it is a pillar and fundamental of our faith.

In Judaism, each twenty four period begins with darkness and ends with light. Hence Shabbat begins with the sunset. We move from the blackness of night to the ever increasing light of dawn.

We have many blessings in Judaism. The first is when the rooster crows or when our alarm clock rings and we awake -- we are meant to say, “Blessed are you O God who gives the heart the ability to distinguish day from night.”

When crisis overwhelms the world, it is sometimes hard to see beyond the darkness. The blessing calls us to open our eyes… to see the possibilities that each day holds.

Though our Temples were destroyed on Tisha B’av, our faith survived.
Though Moses’ was to die, a new leader in Joshua will emerge.
And though Israel is embattled, possibilities for peace prevail. The world has its eye on our homeland, and most moderate country’s want to become involved in promoting peace.

In perusing the pages of my books of Yiddush proverbs on this topic, I found further words of wisdom and hope.

Our Yiddish forefathers taught… “If you can’t endure the bad, you’ll not live to witness the good.” And they taught that “the smoothest way is sometimes full of stones.”

We pray that this is indeed the case, that through the stones of battle we will be able to find the smoothest path towards peace. Amen.

As we pray for healing of our world across the sea…. We also pray for healing here in Charlotte as we turn to the Mi Sheberach on page 614