From the Rabbi

Rabbi Robert L. Wolkoff

Previous Messages
“A Servant in the Temple”
Dear Members and Friends,
It was wonderful to see so many of you on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur; it always feels like an extended family reunion. After several months of preparation and excitement, then a few days of long and intense prayers, and one long fast day, comes the moment of the last blast of the shofar, telling us that we worked hard, now we can sit and eat! As we read in the Book of Ecclesiastes, “Go, eat your bread with joy, and drink your wine with a merry heart; for God has already accepted your works.” (9:7) There is nothing better for a man than that he should eat and drink, and make his soul enjoy pleasure for his labor.” (2:24) And boy, we do; at Tifereth Israel we break the fast with a feast.
The Book of Ecclesiastes is the book customary to read during Sukkot because its message fits perfectly at the end of the High Holidays season. In the book that is attributed to King Solomon (Kohelet is its Hebrew name), the protagonist tells us that he had everything under the sun in wealth and wisdom, and that he had tried pretty much everything. His main message to us is that life is fleeting (he’vel means breath, often mistranslated as futile or vanity); it is like the wind, which we can never catch. We are not the owners of this world but the guests who come to visit for a few days — our 15 minutes of breath. To use it wisely is to not overdo anything or to try to understand everything. The mystics see in this message a clue that this world is a mere vestibule to Olam Habah — the next, eventual world.
After accepting the kingship of God on Rosh Hashanah and as our gracious host, on Yom Kippur we invite God to be a guest in our lives, in our temple. Then by sitting in the Sukkah — a temporary hut — at the culmination of the High Holidays season, we validate our acknowledgement that life is temporary. Like the Sukkah, we are also temporary. Since we don’t know when the end will come, we should enjoy the process. “I saw that there is nothing better for man than to enjoy his endeavors, since that is his portion. For who can enable him to see what will happen afterward?” (3:22) This idea is also backed by the Mishnah in Avot (Ethics of the Fathers 4:2) “A reward of a Mitzvah is Mitzvah,” which means that the reward of the Mitzvah is the process of fulfilling the Mitzvah itself, leaving future outcomes to God.
All the characters we read about over the High Holidays, including Abraham and Sarah, Isaac, Moses, and Aaron, have one thing in common: all of them feel as though they are God’s servants. But Aaron embodies this message in full in his Avodah — his service — as the High Priest we read about on Yom Kippur. His service has a definite order and a meticulous process, yet the outcome is not in his control, and is decided by casting lots: “And he shall take the two goats, and set them before the Lord at the opening of the tent of meeting. And Aaron shall cast lots upon the two goats: one lot for the Lord, and the other lot for Azazel.” (Lev. 16:7-8)
In our personal and public lives, we are often tempted to rationalize that the end justifies the means, that somehow we can ignore the way as long as we arrive at our destination. But can a product of a non-kosher process still be kosher? Let us remember that being a servant in the temple means keeping the process kosher, and letting God decide the ultimate outcome. It is a humbling and a freeing sentiment at the same time. “…there is nothing better for man than to enjoy his endeavors… For who can enable him to see what will happen afterward?”
May God bless this year in all its outcomes, and may 5777 be a jubilee year of peace and healing for us and for the rest of the world.
Shanah Tova,
—Rabbi Gadi Capela
“Moonrise”
We are just a few days from New Year 5777, and I sense excitement in the air. For Jews, the High Holidays are the spiritual Olympics; it’s time to stretch and give it all we can. It’s time to win ourselves back like an Olympic medal. In a few days, the moon will disappear and will reemerge in the new year.
Numerous theories explain why the Jewish people follow the cycle of the moon, even though adjusting to the movement of the sun. But last Saturday night, I saw the reason with my own eyes and felt it in my own heart. When we gathered at 7 p.m. with our friends from the North Fork Reform Synagogue for a Havdalah service on the Fourth Street beach in Greenport, we witnessed one of the most beautiful signs of God’s creation — the sunset. Half an hour later, we were ready to bless creation, saying goodbye to Shabbat and acknowledge its distinction from the six days of work. At that point, a full, perfectly round moon began to emerge over Shelter Island, directly in front of us. It was as though we were witnessing a slow, upward birth. A moonrise.
Moonrise is very different from a sunrise or a sunset, which tends to be romanticized in our mind and in our lives. It’s not often that people take the time to watch a moonrise. True, it may not be as colorful as a blazing red sunset, yet it surely projects its own drama, which seems to be understated, underrated. So why is it that every day in the Jewish calendar begins and ends with the moon and not the sun? A day on the Jewish calendar begins 18 minutes after sunset and ends about an hour after the following sunset. The moon is there like a sturdy bookend.
One of the verses of creation states: “And God made the two great luminaries; the greater luminary to rule the day, and the lesser luminary to rule the night…” (Genesis 1:16) The beginning of the verse mentions two great luminaries, yet the second part qualifies them as a greater luminary and a lesser luminary. The Talmud (Chullin 60b) deals with this contradiction and attempts to bridge the gap. The Midrash describes them as the sun and the moon with the notion that originally they had the same stature.
What follows is a discourse between God and a luminary that “sheds light” on Jewish philosophy:
“Sovereign of the Universe! Is it possible for two kings to share one crown?”
God answered: “Go then and reduce yourself.”
“But Sovereign of the Universe, just because I pointed out that which makes sense, I should reduce myself?”
In an attempt to appease the luminary, God replied: “Go and rule the day and the night.”
“But what is the value of this?” the luminary asked. “Of what use is a lamp in broad daylight?”
And God replied once again: “Go, Israel shall reckon by you the days and the years.”
Somehow the moon better captures the nature of our Jewish life and our connection to the divine. God was happy to let us sit next to Him and share His throne. He sees us as His co-creators. But it is we who keep rejecting our place next to Him. It is we who keep asking: How can two kings share one crown? The sun, of course, is beautiful and steady, but our lives as human beings more closely resemble the moon — different every day. Following the moon should remind us that sometimes it is good to “reduce” ourselves and be humble — the ultimate goal of Jewish life.
May we all have another Shanah Tova u’Metuka — a happy and sweet year!
“Twin Towers of Faith”
In a couple of weeks, at our annual Journal Dinner-Dance, we will celebrate Tifereth Israel’s 115th anniversary. The event will be held this year on Sept. 11, at the Sound View Restaurant. We will see many familiar faces, and we will remember those who are no longer with us. One of the strengths of our Jewish community in general, and one of the main reasons for its survival, is our memory. The People of the Book have a collective memory, and we continue to document historic events, both sad and happy. We recently commemorated the tragedy of the 9th of Av — the saddest day on our calendar, and just a few days later, on the 15th of Av, we celebrated the Holiday of Love — the happiest day on our calendar according to the Talmud’s Tractate Taanit (p. 30).
The Torah constantly commands us to remember many things. One example occurs in Parashat Vaetchanan in the Book of Deuteronomy when Moses commands the people to not forget what their eyes saw and to not forget what they learned from Mount Sinai. The commentator, Kli Yakar, says that if people forget their learning, they risk their lives because then God will forget them. The verse in Hosea (4:6) confirms that: “My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge; because you have rejected knowledge, I will also reject you, that you shall be no priest to Me; seeing you have forgotten the law of your God, I also will forget your children.” Tractate Taanit then concludes that only a person who mourns for Jerusalem will be able to see its rebuilding. Like a good friend who will not invite you to his wedding if you didn’t visit him when he was sitting Shiva. If you do not take the time to acknowledge the low point of the destruction of the Temple — the house of God — you will not be able to experience the heights of the holiday of love.
As you know, our Journal Dinner-Dance this year will take place on Sunday, Sept.11. Before we can rejoice in our anniversary celebration, we will take the opportunity to remember those sorrowful moments 15 years ago. We will also welcome representatives of the first responders, and acknowledge our appreciation to them for the work they did then and continue to do now. Then we can move forward, can aspire to build closer relationships in our community and among the greater human family.
I would like to take this opportunity to thank our president, Alan Garmise, and his wife, Rochelle, this year’s synagogue honorees, for their hard work and energizing spirit. This is the first year Tifereth Israel is honoring a sitting president, but as I see it, since Alan never sits, the old tradition is maintained. Needless to say, my work as a rabbi can be done effectively only if there is an effective support system. With my background in organizational work, I recognize the quality of Alan’s labor and his dedication to our purpose. Of course, Alan would not be able to be an effective president without Rochelle’s support and her willingness to share the burden. One of the most important ideals Alan and Rochelle embody is an understanding of the words of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks: “In Judaism, power must always be subordinate to purpose…the why matters more than the how.”
Please join us on Sept. 11 as we remember, build and celebrate.
—Rabbi Gadi Capela
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