Rabbi Howard Morrison

The last Parshah in Sefer Bereishit, the book of Genesis, presents lessons and values for the past, present, and future. In it, a generation comes to an end. Jacob will pass away, and Joseph will pass away. Genesis will end the history of the patriarchs. The family of Israel, seventy in number, will soon become the nation of Israel when we begin to read the second book of the Torah, Shmot-Exodus, beginning this afternoon.

Death and the end of a generation, however, are not the main motifs. Rather, words of blessing for the present and the future take up most of the portion. Before he passes, Jacob has his two grandsons, Ephraim and Menashe,  brought before him. Even before he blesses his children, Jacob blesses his grandchildren. Why? 

One reason - the challenge of Jewish continuity is not so much about will your children stay and be Jewish. But rather will your grandchildren, two generations later, stay and be Jewish?

Over the centuries, while parents bless their daughters in the names of the four founding matriarchs, parents bless their sons in the names of Ephraim and Menashe because they were the only ones to be raised completely outside of the land of Israel and retained attachment to their heritage. This is a wonderful example for every generation's sons and grandsons. I still get a tear blessing my twenty-six-year-old son at the Shabbat table, reciting the words, "May God make you as Ephraim and Menashe."

Soon after Jacob blesses his grandsons, we find Jacob lying on his deathbed surrounded by his children. The Midrash expands the Biblical verses in the following way. When the father sees his children dressed in contemporary Egyptian garb, his children say to him: "Shma Yisrael Adonai Eloheynu Adonai Echad," loosely translated, "Listen, dad, the Lord is our God, the Lord who is one." Remember that the original term of Yisrael is not a peoplehood, but a surname for Jacob. With barely a whisper left on his lips, Jacob responds so every quietly, "Baruch Shem Kvod Malchuto l'Olam Va'ed - Blessed be the name of God's glorious sovereignty for ever." This same literary tradition is observed evening and morning seven days a week in the Maariv and Shacharit services.

After the reassurance offered by the children to their father, Jacob offers a unique blessing and warning that is specific to each of his children, words for the present and for their future lineage. From this idea, there developed in antiquity and in the Middle Ages a literature known as Jewish ethical wills. Parents codified their beliefs, hopes, and aspirations for their children and grandchildren in personalized form, sometimes given before one's death and sometimes after one's death. Parents have a right if not an obligation to share their most precious thoughts and values, and children have a right if not an obligation to receive their parents' most precious thoughts and values.

To parents and grandparents - Do you bless your children at the Shabbat and Yom Tov table? Have you already done or considered compiling in written form a Jewish ethical will for each of your children and grandchildren? If one day they expect to receive your material items, should they not expect to receive and know clearly your spiritual and moral items? What is more important?

As we conclude the first book of the Torah today, Parshat Vayechi presents lessons and values for the past, present, and future.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Howard Morrison

On Friday, many Jews will observe the Fast of Asarah B'Tevet, the Fast of the tenth of Tevet. While our tradition associates a number of events with this date, the most widely known is that the Babylonian Empire besieged the city of Jerusalem on the tenth of Tevet. It is this sad date which set the stage for what followed. A few months later, the Babylonians breached the walls of Jerusalem. A few weeks later, the Babylonians completely destroyed the Holy Temple and much of Jerusalem. Over six hundred years later, the Roman Empire completely destroyed the Holy Temple again and much of Jerusalem. The Babylonians and Romans burned the Holy Temple at two distinct times in Jewish history and also systematically destroyed Jerusalem with fire, which included the burning of houses. 

While enemy nations have not burned homes, synagogues, establishments, and cities in Los Angeles; nevertheless, we are witnessing the horror of destructive fire. Who cannot be touched by the images we have seen on television? Who cannot be touched by the shock and sadness felt by family, friends, and colleagues in California? Who cannot be moved by acts of bravery, including the rescue of Torah scrolls from burning synagogues before it was too late?

We pray that the destructive fire will end soon, and that it be replaced by the spiritual flame of last week's Chanukiah, the weekly Shabbat candles, and our commitment to Torah Orah - the light of Torah.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Howard Morrison

In the last couple of weeks, I have had to recite "Vidui Al Ha'Mitah - the death bed confessional" with shul members who were imminently going to pass away. These passages are akin to a mini-Yom Kippur. The last few verses are the same as the final verses of Neilah recited at the end of Yom Kippur, including the recitation of "Shma Yisrael." 

In this prayer, one prays to God to be forgiven for any unreconciled wrongdoings on this earth. The idea is to prepare one to exit from this world purely, as one entered this world purely. In conversation, I always encourage the dying person to try to make amends with loved ones and/or friends with whom there may be some outstanding issues. Suffice to say - all of this is easier said than done, but one should try.

I am reminded of this week's Parsha. Joseph as viceroy of Egypt stands in front of his brothers. They do not know that he is Joseph. It would be easy for Joseph to punish them and hold a grudge for the way they treated him years earlier when they threw him into a pit and subsequently sold him to Egypt. Ultimately, Joseph breaks down, weeps, and identifies himself to his brothers. While he can never forget what they did to him, he is able to forgive them and establish a positive relationship with his brothers.

In our lives, we are not expected to forget the wrongdoings that have befallen us from family or friends. Forgiveness is not about forgetting or letting an aggressor off the hook. Forgiveness is about removing a heavy weight from our own shoulders which keeps us from moving forward with our lives. Suffice to say - all of this is easier said than done, but one should try.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Howard Morrison 

In many years, Parshat Vayeshev coincides with Chanukah. In many years, the Haftarah today would be a special one for Chanukah. Not this year! We will have to wait a week. The one and only Shabbat Chanukah will coincide with next week's portion of Miketz. The Special Chanukah Haftarah will be recited next week. 

Chanukah will begin this Wednesday night, December 25th. Once in every nineteen-year cycle, the Hebrew and Western calendars will intersect. Kislev 25, the first light of Chanukah, will meet December 25. Yes - Chanukah always begins on Kislev 25, but not necessarily on December 25.

Today's Parsha already hints towards Chanukah. Joseph is cast into the depths of a pit, a place of darkness and despair. But he will be lifted out to a new light. At the end of the Parsha, Joseph will be cast into the depths of a dungeon, called "Bor - a pit" in the Hebrew. Again, Joseph is lowered into a place of darkness and despair. But in the next week's Parsha, he will again be lifted out to a new light and will become second in command for all of Egypt.

The Joseph pattern of darkness followed by light is the pattern of our entire history. Chanukah begins when the days are at their shortest, and the nights are at their longest. Darkness hovers over the light. In the ancient Pagan world, humanity lit up the skies when the days were short, hoping for and praying for the light to dispel the darkness. In the Midrash, when Adam experienced his first full day of life, he thought that everything was going to come to an end when nightfall came. To his surprise, he awoke to the dawn of a new day. He offered gratitude to God, not yet understanding the pattern of darkness being dispelled by the light of a new day.

Two thousand years ago, the schools of Shammai and Hillel debated over the ritual of lighting the Chanukiah. Shammai ruled to start out with all eight candles the first night and subtract one each night. Hillel ruled to start out with one candle the first night and add one each night. Over time, the ruling of Hillel won out for all Jews. Over the course of Chanukah, we dispel the darkness with increasing light. The Sages expand Hillel's ruling - "Maalin B'Kodesh V'Ain Moridin - We ascend in holiness and do not descend." It is noteworthy that the Hebrew word for ADDING  a candle each night is "Mosif," from the same root as "Yosef-Joseph."

Throughout our lives, we all encounter the despair of darkness in many ways, as individuals, families, and as a community. The last year and a few months have felt darker than many previous periods of contemporary Jewish history. It is important that best we can we stay the course; retain faith, hope, and optimism. Like the dawn of a new day; like the increasing of light during Chanukah - light will dispel the darkness. We do not rely on a divine miracle. We have to help miracles to occur. The Maccabees did not sit on the sideline passively. They engaged actively, even waging war on Shabbat, so that our people would survive and live to see future Shabbatot. They helped to shed a new light for our people, our holy Temple at the time, and our heritage.

May the saga of Joseph which we begin to read today inspire us to comprehend a deeper meaning of Chanukah this year.

Shabbat Shalom - Chag Urim Sameach!

Rabbi Howard Morrison

I am always touched by the origins of names. My Hebrew name is Avraham. The name goes back to our people's founding patriarch. It means the father of many nations. In my case, I am named for Avraham, my maternal great grandfather.

If you asked a random Jew on the street about the origin of the name Yisrael, Israel, I would guess that most would associate it with the name of our people, Am Yisrael, or with the name of our land, Eretz Yisrael, or with the name of our statehood, Medinat Yisrael. They would all be wrong.

The origin appears in today's Parsha. After having been surrounded by family, Jacob finds himself alone. Suddenly he wrestles with a mysterious being. We are not sure who this is - an angel of God, an arch-angel of Esau, an internal subconscious struggle with his inner demons - not clear! At the end of the struggle, whether named by an external being or a force from within, Jacob is surnamed Yisrael, one who wrestled with and prevailed with God and Man. The heel sneak nature of Jacob who took advantage of Esau is gone. Jacob can now be reunited with his brother after twenty years. Jacob is now primed to be the father not only of a large family, seventy in total, but of a peoplehood that will span four thousand years of history. However, for all this to happen, Jacob has to authentically wrestle with his identity and purpose.

What about us? Do any of us really take the existential moment to truly struggle with our ultimate purpose? What does our Judaism mean to us? Which aspects give us meaning? Which do not? Which are causes of personal struggle? What is our ultimate purpose within our family? Our occupation? within society at large? Active wrestling can be risky, making us vulnerable, but which can make a lasting positive impact.

I am reminded of Rabbi Steven Greenberg, the first Orthodox ordained rabbi to come out of the closet and admit his homosexuality in the late 1990's. For years, he was ridiculed. Young observant Jews who followed his leadership were equally scorned. Yet over twenty years later, he is admired for his daring authenticity. His famous book, similar to the theme of this week's Parsha is entitled, "Wrestling with God and Men: Homosexuality in the Jewish Tradition." Years later, rabbis, scholars, and everyday people have praised his writings and expanded upon them, ranging from the ranks of liberal Orthodoxy, Conservative, Reform, and Reconstructionist Judaism. Excerpts in his book inspired halakhic positions taken by the Conservative Movement in 2007 and 2012, many years after Greenberg's book first came out, and which informed my decision making for our shul which I explained over a year ago. 

My sermon today, however, is not to focus solely on issues concerning sexuality. I refer to Rabbi Greenberg as one who has authentically wrestled with God and his own inner being. That aspect is comparable to Jacob becoming Yisrael in today's Parsha.

So, what is your struggle? What is your personal unscripted wrestling match? And what are you going to do about it?

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Howard Morrison

Maaseh Avot Siman L'Vanim - the experiences of our ancestors become a sign to the children. This rabbinic statement harkens back to the fact that Isaac shares many of the same experiences as his father Abraham. Both in their lifetimes dug wells for physical sustenance. In our first scene in today's Parsha, after Isaac had become wealthy and blessed by God, the Philistines stopped up all the wells which Isaac's father Abraham had dug, filling them with earth. Avimelech, King of the Philistines, says to Isaac, "Go away from us, for you have become far too big for us." Is this remark one of propaganda and a Biblical form of Jew-hatred?

The Torah text continues, "So, Isaac departed from there and encamped in the wadi of Gerar, where he settled. Isaac dug anew the wells which had been dug in the days of his father Abraham and which the Philistines had stopped up after Abraham's death, and he gave them the same names that his father had given them. But when Isaac's servants, digging in the wadi, found there a well of spring water, the herdsmen of Gerar quarreled with Isaac's herdsmen, saying, 'the water is ours.' Isaac named that well Esek, because they contended with him. And when Isaac's servants dug another well, the herdsmen of Gerar disputed over that one also; so, Isaac named it Sitnah-hostility. Isaac moved from there and dug yet another well, and they did not quarrel over it. So, Isaac called it Rehovot, saying, 'Now at last the Lord has granted us ample space to increase in the land.'" 

The Midrash teaches us that the three wells dug anew by Isaac refer to three Temples in Jewish history. The first was destroyed because of Esek, contention with the nations of the time. The second was destroyed because of Sitnah, hostility from the nations of the time. The third, yet to be rebuilt, will be based on Rehovot, when contention and hostility will be things of the past.

No matter what one thinks or believes about a third Temple, clearly, the Jewish people in Israel and all over the world are not yet living in a time of Rehovot, where there is no quarrel, and where Jews are allowed to settle and increase in the land. Sadly, and tragically, over the last thirteen and a half months and even well before that, Jews are living in a time of Esek and Sitnah, contention and hostility.

The latest sad and tragic example comes regarding a young rabbinic colleague whom I and we never knew - A Chabad rabbi who settled in a different part of the globe in order to touch Jews with the message of Torah. His mission, like that of most Chabad rabbis, was to do Keruv work, make connections with all Jews regardless of their backgrounds, beliefs, and practices. Rabbi Zvi Kogen was missing and then subsequently murdered by terrorists. He was based in Abu Dhabi, UAE (United Arab Emirates) and had been abducted a week ago Thursday in Dubai. Rabbi Kogan was found murdered last Sunday. He was 28 years old and leaves behind his wife, Rivky.. The rabbi's mission was to serve the Jewish people. Esek and Sitnah, forces of contention and hostility, brought his life to a young and terrible end.

While the Patriarch, Isaac, went on to build a third and permanent well called Rehovot, we can only wait for a safe, peaceful, and secure third commonwealth in Jewish history.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Howard Morrison

As a proud dual citizen of the U.S. and Canada, I rejoice in both countries. Never forgetting my roots, today is U.S. Thanksgiving. As a child, my family in Boston always celebrated with the same relatives and close friends. When my children were young, whether living in New York or Toronto, we would rotate celebrating the holiday either with my family in Boston or with my children's mother's family in New Jersey. In recent years, I have celebrated locally with American born colleagues and their families.

As a stand-alone holiday at the end of November, many American Jews celebrate Thanksgiving with all the trimmings. Of course, the turkey and side dishes are kosher. Canadian Thanksgiving in early October does not seem to have the same appeal among local Jews perhaps because its gets lost with the High Holy Days and Sukkot which surround it in the early Fall.

Being thankful is a daily obligation in Judaism. We start our day individually saying, "Modeh Ani Lefanecha - I give thanks before You, God." In the daily Amidah, we recite in the plural, "Modim Anachnu Lach - We give thanks to You, God." The blessings after meals, Hallel,  and other rituals are filled with verses of gratitude.

While I am grateful every day, on this U.S. Thanksgiving day, I am particularly thankful to God for my health, my family, and my community. I am grateful to arise each morning with purpose and fulfillment.

May we all be grateful for gifts which ought never be taken for granted, not only once a year but each and every day of our lives.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Howard Morrison

Ten years ago, my younger son Yonah spent the second half of grade 10 studying in Israel under the auspices of Ramah Israel Institute in a high school program called Tichon Ramah Yerushalayim (T.R.Y.). While he was there, we at Beth Emeth were beginning discussions on a synagogue trip to Poland and Israel. Yonah mentioned to me that his class had recently returned from Poland under the leadership of their teacher, Betsalel Steinhart. Thus, the Beth Emeth relationship was born between our shul and Ramah Israel Institute. In the Fall of 2015, Betsalel guided us around Poland and Israel over a two-week period. In the Fall of 2019, Betsalel guided us around Spain, Gibraltar, and Portugal over a two-week period. In the Spring of 2024, Betsalel oversaw the planning of our nine-day solidarity mission to Israel.

Betsalel has endeared himself to many people within our Beth Emeth community. On this coming Shabbat, Betsalel will visit our shul and be our scholar in residence on Shabbat morning. In particular, Betsalel has a unique perspective on events which have transpired in Israel and around the Jewish world in the last thirteen months. I invite us all to hear him this coming Shabbat. In addition, to those who studied with Betsalel in their high school years or who participated in our tours with him, you are invited to a reunion evening after Shabbat at 7pm in the Shul.

Please join me in welcoming Betsalel Steinhart.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Howard Morrison

I was introduced to the formal study of Chumash (the Five Books of the Torah) in grade 2. Not the narratives of Bereishit and Noach, my class was first introduced to Torah study with Parshat Lech Lecha and the journey of Abram-Abraham. I still remember the large print Hebrew only text which was given to us. At age 7, we were learning to discern the Hebrew text as it was. There was no English and no commentary.

Lech Lecha begins with the journey made by the first patriarch and his family. Abram must leave his native land, his birth place, and his parental home to a new land that God will show him. For Jews, the historical promise made by God to our people about the homeland of Israel originated 4000 years ago with the pact made to Abram. Only Jews are the rightful indigenous people of Israel. It is our language, culture, holy sites, and more which have stood the test of time in Israel even when conquering nations tried to rid our people from its God-given homeland thousands of years ago.

Another kind of Lech Lecha comes to mind this weekend. On November 9-10, we commemorate the 86^th anniversary of Kristallnacht, the night of broken glass, which took place in 1938. Soon enough, many Jewish families and individuals undertook their own journeys. Those who were fortunate to escape Eastern Europe before it was too late ended up in many places around the world, including pre-State Israel, North America, and many other locations.

I marvel at the survivors I have gotten to know in my nearly twenty-five years at Beth Emeth. They came with almost nothing. Many established thriving businesses and raised multi-generational families. Sadly, I have laid to rest many survivors of the Shoah. However, they left this world comforted in that they did not survive in vain. Like Abraham, who became the patriarch for all generations to come, many survivors will be regarded as the patriarchs and matriarchs of the families they nurtured here in Canada.

As we recall the very first journey in Jewish history, we pay tribute this weekend to the memories of six million Jews and remember those who made their Lech Lecha to Jewish communities around the world and who raised Jewish families to ensure our people's continuity.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Howard Morrison

The story of Noah is one that is familiar to us. Humanity regresses to the point that God regrets having created humanity and brings about a flood to wipe out the entire world, with the exception of Noah, his family, and the animals he brings into the Ark. When Noah leaves the Ark after the flood and is ready to go about rebuilding the world, God makes a covenant with him that God will never destroy the world again. The sign of the covenant is a rainbow.

The commentators struggle to understand the sin or level of corruption that prompted God to bring the flood. In a verse with eerie resonance in light of Israel's war with Hamas (Hezbollah and Iran), the Torah records: "The earth became corrupt before God, and the earth was filled with lawlessness-Hamas (Genesis 6:11)." The Biblical scholar Nahum Sarna, the author of 'Understanding Genesis,' explains, "It may be deduced that Hamas here refers predominantly to arrogant disregard for the sanctity and inviolability of human life." This definition and understanding of the word "Hamas" certainly ring true over the past year.

In light of this, we have an obligation and moral responsibility to respond when the world is overcome by Hamas. We must express shock and outrage upon learning of such wanton displays of violence, hatred, and moral depravity. The IDF, in harmony with Torah values, has an absolute responsibility to wage battle and destroy Hamas and its evil counterparts including Hezbollah, and other publicly identified terror groups. 

The Talmud already asks and answers what should one do when Hamas-violence is coming your way? "If someone rises up to attack you, rise up and attack them first (Sanhedrin 72a)." 

After reading the story of the flood and the violence that humans perpetrate on one another, one could ask the question, "Why did God save Noah and his family? Why not destroy humanity altogether? " Perhaps God's hope was that humanity would change its ways after Noah. God explicitly gave Noah a law forbidding pre-meditated bloodshed, "Whoever sheds human blood, by human hands shall that one's blood be shed, for in the image of God was humankind created (Genesis 9:6)."

Can humanity change? Can humanity overcome its natural tendency towards cruelty and violence? That is the Torah's lesson in today's portion of Noah. A new humanity can be born without cruelty and violence in their hearts. Unfortunately, it has not come true in our lifetimes. We can only pray and work for the day when hatred and brutality will disappear from the face of the earth.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Howard Morrison

Being involved in dialogue with others is imperative. Israel has sadly learned that it has no choice but to fight when there is no one with whom to have constructive dialogue. Even in sectors around the world, including our own, we have had to stand on our own in the face of Jew-hatred when there is no one with whom to have constructive dialogue.

Ever since my oldest son left his first work community in Alpena Michigan, I have continued to be in touch as a friend and rabbinic consultant to a small synagogue there which has no ordained clergy. With a relationship that I cultivated with a local pastor of a Lutheran church, we have had interfaith programs on Zoom. 

This past Sunday, we shared a two-part program on what constitutes peace, and what does not constitute peace, in our respective religious traditions. There were matters on which we agreed, agreed to disagree, and to disagree agreeably. Some topics that were addressed were the Christian concept of "turn the other cheek," the difference between "Thou shalt not kill" versus "Thou shalt not murder," and the implications on abortion and Israel's right to defend itself in the Middle East.

The most important part of the experience was the willingness by clergy and community members to engage in difficult conversation on challenging topics, something that would benefit communities here and elsewhere.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Howard Morrison

Each year at Yizkor, we recite the names of members who died in the past year.

Each year, our annual Yizkor book publicizes the names of family members who are lovingly remembered by their families.

Each year during Yizkor, we recite many of the death and concentration camps, in which millions of Jews were murdered during the Shoah.

Today is October 24. The date of October 7 passed over two weeks ago. However, it was on this date on the Hebrew calendar that horror struck. In the Diaspora, Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah are observed over a two-day period. In Israel, they are observed in a single day, in the same manner that in Israel the first day of Sukkot was a Yom Tov, whereas in the Diaspora, the first two days of Sukkot are called Yom Tov.

While Israeli congregations were transitioning from Yizkor to Hakafot at the same service, Diaspora synagogues were concentrating on the Yizkor of Shemini Atzeret. Tragically, whether we were dancing with Torah scrolls in Israel or focusing on prayers for rain and remembrance outside of Israel, little did we know what was happening and unfolding before our very eyes. On today's Hebrew date, 1200 people were slaughtered: Jews and non-Jews, young and old, peace-loving Jews who lived and visited near the Gaza border in Southern Israel. Hundreds of others were dragged into captivity and taken hostage at the same time.

Now, exactly a year later on the Hebrew Yahrzeit, how can we properly remember and pay respect and dignity to the lives lost on this day?

I wish we could read all the 1200 hundred names as well as the soldiers, civilians, and  hostages who have died on and since Yom Tov last year. But this cannot happen.

Instead, Beth Emeth has joined with some 1600 synagogues around the world in an initiative called the Simchat Torah Project. Here is the description from the project website:

"This October will mark the first Simchat Torah since the horrific events of October 7th.

King Solomon offers us guidance in Kohelet, which is read on Sukkot: 'There is a time for everything under the Heavens . . . a time to mourn and a time to dance.' this Simchat Torah with tears in our eyes, we will dance.

Synagogues around the world will open their holy Ark on Simchat Torah night and take out several Torah scrolls. One will be adorned with a new 'Me'il (Torah cover), designed to mark the first Yahrzeit of October 7th. This Me'il will be identical to the ones which will be created for 1600 synagogues across the world. This beautifully designed Me'il will proclaim that this Torah is dedicated in memory of the 1200 souls and the many soldiers and hostages who have since died, Al Kiddush Hashem. Each Torah Me'il will feature the name of one of the Kedoshim (holy ones) embroidered onto it. Communities around the world will dance with these Torah scrolls - thousands of communities, with hundreds of thousands if not millions of Jews being connected through this project. 

The Jewish world will be unified, knowing that across the globe, Jews are dancing with Torah scrolls that collectively link us all with the events of October 7th, and to inspire us to realize that 'Am Yisrael Chai.' Synagogues will encourage their members to come and dance with the newly robed scroll, to remember the fallen, by holding their Torah high, so that they can say, 'we will not forget what happened on Simchat Torah last year, but we are determined to dispel the darkness with light.'

This project will symbolize the Jewish people's resilience, our ability to find hope in the face of tragedy. Our 1600 communities across the globe will unite for Israel and the Jewish people."

This morning, we are incorporating the new Me'il (Torah cover) as our way of linking all the fallen since October 7^th last year into our Yizkor remembrance. Tonight, and tomorrow, we will dance with this same Me'il as our commitment to the celebration of Torah and the continuity of the Jewish people and the Jewish way of life.

Chag Sameach,

Rabbi Howard Morrison

Many of our religious observances are conducted indoors - in our homes and in our synagogues. We generally do not like to create a public spectacle of our religious experiences. We behave modestly and try not to call attention to ourselves when we perform Mitzvot.

There are some exceptions to this ideal. On Chanukah, it is a particular Mitzvah to publicize the miracle by placing our Chanukiyot where they can be seen by passerby.  Sukkot also has some aspects of taking our religious observances into the public square. Most of us are familiar with the practice of eating our meals and perhaps even sleeping in the Sukkah. However, this is not what I refer to in terms of a Sukkot public practice. After all, for many of us, the Sukkah is still private, as it is constructed in the privacy of a backyard or patio.

The Talmud records the custom in ancient Jerusalem where people carried their Lulavim into the street when they went to synagogue, when they visited the sick, and when they went to comfort mourners. Even today, many Jews carry their Lulavim in public. But the origin of why is quite amazing!

On Sukkot, we want to convey a message to the general public. In ancient Jewish life, the Lulav and Etrog were symbolic of weapons. The Lulav is likened to a spear, and the Etrog is likened to a pellet. They indicate that we are proud of our heritage, and that we are prepared to fight for the honor of our Torah, of our people, of our land, and our very existence. 

Sukkot is an important reminder that being proud Jews entails a public stance. If we do not stand up for ourselves, who will stand up for us? For most of us, we prefer to think of the four species as symbolic of agricultural gifts, as symbols of Jewish unity, as representations of the human body. While these metaphors are all true, perhaps this year in particular we need to associate the four species as defensive weapons; that we will defend ourselves when we are attacked; that we will never go down like a lamb at the altar. Sadly, but true, Israel has recently had to show us and the world through example the willingness to stand up assertively when certain nations and terror groups want to eradicate not only Israel but the existence of the Jewish people. 

We are in the midst of remembering the English anniversary of October 7^th 2023, which has come and gone, and its Hebrew anniversary of Shemini Atzeret-Simchat Torah, just over a week away. The Lulav and Etrog serve as great reminders for lessons learned.

Chag Sameach,

Rabbi Howard Morrison

Judaism is not an ostentatious religion. We are not meant to show off our wealth. In the Middle Ages, sumptuary laws prohibited the bride's parents from spending more on the wedding than the poorest family in town.

Whenever possible, we try to beautify the Mitzvot since they symbolize our love for God and our heritage. Without going broke or being boastful, we try to get a nice Mezuza, nice Tefillin, a nice Etrog, etc. 

This concept is called Hidur Mitzvah, beautifying the objects used for observing Mitzvot. The Biblical basis comes from the phrase, "Zeh Aili V'Anvehu - This is my God whom I shall glorify." This statement originates in the Song of the Sea.

When it comes to Sukkot, many people go out of their way to find the choicest Etrog. In the Torah, it is called, "Pri Etz Hadar - fruit of beautiful trees." Notice that the word, "Hadar" appears as a description of the Etrog. Years ago, a film called "Ushpizin" showed a religious Jew who almost broke his bank on purchasing the finest Etrog he could find. He went way beyond the norm of "Hidur Mitzvah."

In my own experience, I beautified my celebration of Sukkot when I purchased my own four species in Israel during the rabbinical school year of 1983-4. I went to an olive wood factory in Mea Shearim and purchased a nice wooden Etrog box with symbols of Israel painted on it. It replaced the cardboard box which came with the Etrog purchase. 

While basic Mitzvah observance is fine enough, the ability to beautify our Mitzvot is encouraged, as long as we bring no economic harm to ourselves or those who are dear to us.

Chag Sameach,

Rabbi Howard Morrison

There are many themes associated with Sukkot. Commonly known are the Mitzvot regarding the Sukkah, the four species, and a season of rejoicing.

One of the lesser-known themes is the fact that each day during Sukkot we read a small section from the book of B'Midbar-Parshat Pinchas. In ancient Temple based times, the Israelites brought 70 sacrifices over the seven days of Sukkot, bringing one less on each successive day. Thus, 13 were brought on day 1; 12 were brought on day 2, etc.

In the ancient world, there was a notion that there were 70 nations in the world other than Israel. Whereas Yom Kippur emphasized personal prayers of repentance, and whereas Shemini Atzeret will focus on the special bond between God and the Jewish people, Sukkot is the holiday of the Jewish people expressing concern for the nations of the world. It is no accident that when countries have coped with natural and health disasters that Israel is among the first nations to send in first responders and experts.

It is ironic and even tragic that when Israel is subjected to awful forms of hatred that almost none of the vast nations comes to Israel's side, especially over the last twelve months. While we Jews may be disappointed at the lack of moral clarity from others, we Jews must never lose our own sense of moral clarity. We must continue to express a universal concern even when others do not.

I wish you all Chag Sameach,

Rabbi Howard Morrison