From the Rabbi

It’s time again to start thinking about taxes. No, not those taxes, the spiritual taxes that Rosh Hashanah requires we pay. What are spiritual taxes you may ask? Is there spiritual currency like bitcoin? Bitcoin is a new kind of money used on the Internet — totally virtual — but with real impact. The invention of bitcoin makes it easier to explain spiritual currency and spiritual taxes — totally virtual — but with real impact.

And there is another wondrous feature of spiritual taxes: you pay only what you pledge, not a penny more. It’s what you said you wanted to change last year, what you said you wanted to give up, improve. On Passover, we ask, Ma Nishtana — how is this night different? On Rosh Hashanah, too, we should ask Ma Nishtana — how different is this year? Did we make changes for the better, or did we simply accept things as they were? Did we take any step, big or small, toward our true self? Did we let go of what we don’t need to keep?

It seems as though our Back Room Sale is perfectly timed every year, just before Rosh Hashanah. The sale is one way to help us clear our basements from all those things we’ve been looking at all year and saying, “That’s it, it’s been another year since I’ve used this or that; this year, I’ll just give it away.” Giving away physical objects, no matter how small or large, assists us with letting go of emotions and habits that hold us back.

Rosh Hashanah this year will also end the Shmita — the sabbatical year. Every seven years, we have the opportunity, as the word Shmita suggests, to drop and let go. If you haven’t yet done so, there is still time. This year, when we ask Ma Nishtana — how different do we want this year to be — let’s have answers. This year, when it’s time to pay our spiritual taxes, let’s be prepared with what we are willing to pay spiritually — virtually — but with real impact. Sometimes, it’s simply saying, “I’m sorry.”

I’m looking forward to seeing many of you soon, as we celebrate another year as a strong community, a welcoming community, a Jewish community.

Shannah Tova. May we all have another good year!

—Rabbi Gadi Capela

High Holidays preparation classes

Rabbi Gadi will offer High Holy Days preparation classes on the four Thursdays prior to the holidays. The classes will be held from 3 to 4 p.m., immediately before the Rabbi’s regularly scheduled Parasha classes. The Aug. 20 class focused on shofar training. At the Aug. 27 class, participants will study the blessing of the Kohanim. The Sept. 3 class will review the aliyah prayer, and the Sept. 10 class will introduce holiday songs. All are welcome to attend.

It was an incredibly eventful July 4th weekend in Greenport. Of course, the main attractions were the six tall ships that came here from different parts of the world before continuing on their journeys. What is it about tall ships that draws so many people to them? Perhaps it’s the history, perhaps the sense of adventure or the unknown; they come from the vast seas and will go back there tomorrow. This may be true for any ship, but the tall ships are different. There is something romantic about them, carried by the wind. Something spiritual.

In a way, we are all like tall ships, carried by our spirit, negotiating the rough waters of life. We come from the unknown and go to the unknown, turning our sails in a direction where they can be filled and move us forward. We use the wind to steer us where we want to go, to constantly negotiate where God wants us to go, and where we think we want to head.

That weekend, I had a chance to be on a sailboat with a dear family from the synagogue. It was the first time for me, and I even got to steer for a bit. But for the most part, I was an observer. To navigate a sailboat, you have to learn to negotiate, pulling the lines and then releasing a bit, pulling some more and then releasing again. But then you can rest and let the wind move you forward…quietly.

As God willed it, the following Shabbat, the same congregant opened and closed the Ark. As she was pulling the cord to close the Parochet — the covering curtain — I saw the Parochet as one of the sails on the boat, a sail we open and close when we take out the Torah and return it. It’s not enough to have the wooden doors open and close; the Ark needs the soft sail-like drapery to catch the spirit that moves us forward. And then, like the sailboat, it is quiet while we stand for the silent prayer, negotiating with God our way forward.

And then there are the sails in our hearts, those that can be filled only with the good spirit of others, the spirit of giving and sharing. As we are approaching Tisha B’Av, the 9th day of the month that commemorates the destruction of our Holy Temple, we read in the Talmud (Gittin 56) the story of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza, the wealthiest people in Jerusalem. As their similar names indicate, they were both parsimonious, and their tight hearts and the petty honor games they played with each other ultimately caused the destruction of Jerusalem. The lesson is that for communities to survive and thrive, people must stay open and be willing to give and accept the good spirit of others. Like a tall ship with its assembly of sails, we pull forward together, negotiating life’s waters into the hopeful unknown, where God wants us to go.

I would like to offer special thanks to Paul and Pamela Birman, who have been extremely generous to our synagogue, blowing new wind into our sails. Yashar Koach — may you keep in strength!

—Rabbi Gadi Capela

Dear members and Friends,

As we begin the month of Tammuz, we are finally feeling summer weather. On the 17th of Tammuz, the Three Weeks period begins, commemorating the breach of the walls of Jerusalem before the destruction of the Temple on the 9th of Av (Tisha B’Av). The prophet Ezekiel, who predicted the destruction of the Temple, mentions the month of Tammuz: “Then He brought me to the door of the gate of the Lord’s house…; and, behold, there sat the women weeping for Tammuz. Then said He unto me: ‘Have you seen this, O son of man? You shall again see yet greater abominations than these.’” (8:14-15) The Talmud teaches us that the 17th of Tammuz is the day of the sin of the Golden Calf, the first of four sins of the Israelites in the desert, culminating in the mutiny of Korah.

The Torah reading of Korah on the first Shabbat of Tammuz describes his rebellion. He accused Moses of nepotism because Moses designated his brother Aaron to be the first High Priest. Korah claims that no one should be separated because everyone in Israel is holy. Korah belonged to the same Levite family as Moses and Aaron, the Kehatites. They, who were designated to carry the innermost holy vessels of the Tabernacle, did not rebel then. So it is clear that Korah’s protestation is not motivated by righteousness. It’s true, God separated the whole people of Israel and made them a “nation of priests”; the problem is that Korah legitimizes the idea of special designation — holiness when it serves him right; rejection when it doesn’t.

“And Korah assembled all the congregation against them at the door of the tent of meeting;…” (Numbers 16:19) The Midrash says that Korah doesn’t simply rebel against Moses and Aaron, but he rebels against God and God’s creation, a creation that is made by separations and special designations. God separated day and night, heaven and earth, and the six days from the holy Sabbath. Essentially, Korah denies the essence of Jewish life, which is meant to reflect God’s creation. Therefore, says the Midrash, Korah is punished by creation itself when the earth opens its mouth and swallows him alive. As Ezekiel says, conflict at the door of the gate of the Lord’s house will result in weeping.  Using the house of God for conflict instead of peace is an abomination.

Recently, we had a chilling reminder of how a house of God can become a place of death. The murderer who massacred nine innocent parishioners at the Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, SC, was not only planning to kill people but, like Korah, was rebelling against creation itself. He denies the legitimacy of differences and diversity in creation. In his view, everyone should be the same or otherwise disappear. Like Korah, who was punished by creation and swallowed alive, may acts like his be erased from the face of the earth, early in our days, and may the gates of the house of God serve to bring peace.  The Talmud teaches us that just as the fall of Jerusalem started in Tammuz, it will begin rebuilding on Tammuz.

Chodesh Tov,

Rabbi Gadi Capela