Our new son brings healing to our family and to the world. As my wife, Julia, mentioned, his birth on the 22nd of September, the 19th of Elul, closed a circle of mourning and symbolized a renewal.
She went into labor on the yahrzeit of his great-grandmother, Esther Perkel, and he arrived on the birthday of his grandmother, Rhoda Kadalie, both of blessed memory.
Moreover, we gather here today just days before Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, and just eight days before the anniversary of the terror attacks of October 7th, 2023.
There is still a hole in my heart.
We still have hostages to rescue, but also victories to celebrate.
Today’s simcha is a deliberate response to the terror of October 7th. I traveled to Israel soon after the attack, with the country at war. In weeks that followed, my wife and I discussed the idea of having another child. We had always planned to do so, but the timing suddenly seemed urgent.
In November, I visited the family of IDF Lt. Col. Salman Habaka, who helped save Kibbutz Be’eri and gave his life in combat in Gaza. On that visit I prayed for what you now see today.
We honored Salman’s family today because the Jewish people have always relied on friends from outside our community. In fact, the Torah portion that contains the Ten Commandments, Yitro, is named for Moses’s father-in-law, who was a Midianite priest. His descendants, the Kenites, lived among the people of Israel. It was Yael, a Kenite, and Julia’s namesake, who delivered victory over the terrorist armies of Canaan.
Rhoda was such a friend, as are so many of you here today. We owe such friends an eternal debt.
We thank each of you who traveled to be with us today — my parents, Naomi and Raymond, from Chicago; my cousin Leora and her fiancé Emauel, from New Mexico; my aunt Sharon and uncle Errol from Phoenix; my good friend Jacob Silver from Palm Springs; and so many more. People have been so generous with help and good wishes. Thank you also to Rabbi Nachman Kreiman for performing the circumcision. And thank you to all who are watching on Zoom.
A bit of Torah: today’s daf, or page, in the Talmud, discusses the quality of different kinds of wine — a relevant topic in light of today’s ceremony, in which the baby is given wine to sooth his pain. For some mundane purposes, the Talmud says, any wine will do — even water that is poured over the sediment of a barrel to make a wine-like drink. But for special occasions, only pure wine will do — and the Talmud specifically mentions red wine as the preferable variety.
That recalls the blessing that Jacob gave Judah, the son from whom the kings of Israel would descend. Jacob says that Judah will be “red eyed from wine and white toothed from milk.” He also compares Judah to a lion.
Yesterday, as it happens, my parents saw a mountain lion on the way to synagogue — we see them from time to time here. This morning, I saw another lion — a sea lion — in the ocean. These are symbols of strength that I hope reflect our son’s future.
Another insight: we are here early in the morning. One may perform a brit milah at any time in the day, but the tradition is to do so as early as possible, because that is what Abraham did when circumcising Isaac.
In 2019, I traveled to Lithuania, to my grandfather’s old town of Joniskis, where the locals showed me a Talmud volume they had found but could not identify. I recognized it: it was open at the very page describing this mitzvah and the need to do it early.
The message is one that the Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, z”tl, used to teach, and which I carry with me: any good deed worth doing is worth doing right away.
That was the spirit of Salman Habaka. That was the spirit of Esther Perkel. That was the spirit of Rhoda Kadalie. That is the spirit of my parents.
And that is the spirit you have shared by joining us. May we all be blessed by this occasion, and may we each be Inscribed in the Book of Life for a Happy New Year.
This week’s portion launches the great story of Abraham, who is told to leave everything of his life behind — except his immediate family — and to leave for “the Land that I shall show you.”
There’s something interesting in the fact that Abraham is told to leave his father’s house, as if breaking away from his father’s life — but his father, in fact, began the journey, moving from Ur to Haran (in last week’s portion). His father set a positive example — why should Abraham leave him?
Some obvious answers suggest themselves — adulthood, needing to make one’s own choices, his father not going far enough, etc.
But I think there is another answer. Abraham (known for the moment as Abram) needs to establish his own household. This is not just about making one’s own choice, but really about choosing one’s own starting point. It’s starting over.
Sometimes we start over in fundamental ways even if much that surrounds us remains the same. Sometimes the journey we have to ...
The story of Noah is familiar; the details, less so.
Noah is often seen as an ambivalent figure. He was righteous -- but only for his generation. What was his deficiency?
One answer suggests itself: knowing that the world was about to be flooded, he built an Ark for the animals and for his own family -- but did not try to save anyone else or to convince them to repent and change their ways (the prophet Jonah, later, would share that reluctance).
Abraham, later, would set himself apart by arguing with God -- with the Lord Himself! -- against the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, saying that they should be saved if there were enough righteous people to be found (there were not).
Still, Noah was good enough -- and sometimes, that really is sufficient to save the world. We don't need heroes every time -- just ordinary decency.
Hi all -- as I noted last month, I'm going to be closing down my Locals page, at least for tips and subscriptions -- I may keep the page up and the posts as well, but I'm no longer going to be accepting any kind of payment.
Look for cancelation in the very near future. Thank you for your support!
