Who’s to say that they are absolutely right when it comes to religious belief? As a rule, Jews don’t proselytize. We don’t seek to convert others to Judaism. Midrash tells us that Abraham was the first individual to teach monotheism, but even Abraham didn’t go out looking for others to join him on his journey of following God.
This past Wednesday, Israel360 partnered with our local Hillel to bring Ashager Araro to our community for an engaging and powerful presentation. Ashager is a second-generation Ethiopian-Israeli. Her talk covered many topics. A number of things stood out to me. One was her community’s deep-seated desire to return to Israel from Ethiopia, a country the Beta Yisrael (the name by which Ethiopian Jews self-identify) had lived in for 1500 years.
What I’ve learned about Zoom is I’m not able to be fully present unless I remove the distractions. When we really see each other, not just in a tiny window at the top of the screen while we mindlessly scroll Facebook or answer email, that’s how we build relationships. May we continue walking into 5782 with presence and focus on the things that matter.
There’s a classic joke about a rabbi on vacation in France. Far away from congregants, the rabbi orders a roast suckling pig with all the garnishes—potatoes, vegetables, the apple in the mouth, all on a bed of kale—the full works. Just as the loaded-down platter arrives, the president of the synagogue appears as though from nowhere and is completely shocked. “Rabbi, what are you doing!?” Thinking quickly, the rabbi exclaims, “Oy, what a crazy country, I ordered a baked apple, and this is how they serve it!”
What you consider a home or house may look different from everyone else’s. This week’s Torah portion reminds us that we all come from somewhere, whether your “somewhere” is a specific block in a suburb or the whole planet, but even more important is the somewhere you make for yourself.
In the continuing saga of emptying my mother’s house, two large cardboard boxes arrived at my house. Each carton was approximately three feet by three feet. Inside were thousands of 35-millimeter slides that my father shot over the years. As part of my siblings’ divide and conquer approach to the old family homestead, it fell upon me to get all of these slides digitized, and thankfully, Portland still has a couple of places for this sort of work.
Reading Parshat Noach close after the High Holidays is our yearly reminder that how we act in the world is up to us and not where we come from. Like Noah, we are fully capable of doing the hard work to change patterns, hold ourselves to higher standards, and make our example the one that future generations want to follow.
