A Message from Rabbi Neil Sandler

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A Message from Rabbi Neil Sandler

By Neil Sandler
Rabbi Emeritus

Each year, I grow older. Each year, I add to the number of times I lead the Passover Seder. And each year, I add to the number of times I or someone else in our seder offers the familiar words from the Book of Exodus, "You shall tell your child." We reflect on those words and consider what it means to share the Passover story with our children and grandchildren. What sentiments are we to share with those who will follow us? What are the generations supposed to take away with them from the seder that addresses our people's past and enhances its future?

This year, a unique pre–Passover experience added a dimension to my understanding. Along with our cousins from Mississippi, Susan and I spent nearly one month in central Europe prior to Passover. On a tour of the Jewish section of Budapest, our guide shared the point of differentiation between the interior and exterior of the ghetto. There, at that point of differentiation, were the familiar Passover words of the Haggadah—"You shall teach your child."

A long time ago, I learned the world can be a difficult place to navigate. Sometimes, the world can be a very cruel place that causes harm and pain. At other times, the world can bring comfort and understanding. What does the world bring us at the Passover seder? The answers are not so simple. They may include the recognition of a world that continues to harm us. They may also encourage us to see a world that beckons us to care about the welfare of others even when we have no ostensible reason to do so.

This year, I learned that responses to the Passover seder declaration, "You shall teach your child," lie at the point where the world's ambivalence meets, where the interior and exterior of the Budapest ghetto meet. "You shall teach your child." What shall you teach? It's not an easy question.

Susan joins me in wishing you and your loved ones a very happy and healthy Passover.

A Message from Rabbi Neil Sandler

Posted on by Lauren Dube

A Message from Rabbi Neil Sandler

By Neil Sandler
Rabbi Emeritus

As Susan, our cousins, Susan and Macy, and I move toward the end of our time together in Central Europe, my thoughts remain largely troubling. Take a look at my column in last week's e-blast, and you will be reminded. I have found Central Europe to be more challenging than I had anticipated. Was it naïve of me not to have considered some of these thoughts prior to our trip? Perhaps (If you are older than me, you'll definitely say I was naïve). It all started well and reassuring enough.

On Purim afternoon, we went to the large synagogue in Vienna. What a beautiful sight! Lots of young families! Oodles of energy! Hardly anyone there, adults and Chief Rabbi included, were old enough to have had a personal encounter with the Holocaust. Yet their physical presence, combined with their over–the–top Purim celebration, served as an ongoing statement about their rich spiritual lives in a place where Hitler sought to extinguish them. Later that week, we took an architectural tour in Munich that left me scratching my head and wondering.

Prior to World War II, the Germans had built two above–ground bunkers to protect an upscale neighborhood. With the war's conclusion, architects added two modern floors to the bunkers they had built prior to the war. When the architects and builders completed their work, they hosted the neighborhood for an "Open House." To all those people, was this building feat just that? Was it something to be "celebrated?" Did anyone remember the original purpose of this building and its bunkers? Did anyone recall their connection to the Holocaust? Did anyone lend any thought to considering how to psychologically and spiritually transform implements of mass – destruction into means of modern living?

Purim in Vienna provided moments of innocent beauty. But not much later, images in Munich provided much for thoughtful consideration. I find Central Europe to be a very complex place.

I look forward to returning home soon. Shabbat Shalom, and be well.

A Message from Rabbi Neil Sandler

Posted on by Lauren Dube

A Message from Rabbi Neil Sandler

By Neil Sandler, Rabbi Emeritus

Susan and I are in the midst of a trip to Central Europe. Cultural life—music, dance, and art—is rich here. Over a year ago, we traveled to Spain with our cousins, Susan and Macy Hart. We had a wonderful time! So, when Macy and Susan invited us to join them for over three weeks in Austria, Germany, the Czech Republic, Slovakia, and Hungary, we jumped at the chance.

Each of these countries is beautiful; music, art, and dance, as I said, are all quite rich. More than seventy-five years after the Holocaust, I thought I had unconsciously reconciled myself. We will always memorialize the victims of the Holocaust, but we won't necessarily think about them every time we enter a place where they lived. I was naïve to have that thought.

My naivete and discomfort immediately struck me at our first stop, Vienna. The spoken German word has always sounded harsh to me. Sometimes, without understanding a single German word, I feel berated. The printed word can have the same effect on me. I saw the exact same sign on the bakery doors. But with all capital letters and exclamation marks, I felt like I had done something wrong. Whatever the sign said, I had misbehaved.

I can't fault you if, up to this point, you dismissed my remarks and even felt them to be a little bigoted. But something occurred at the threshold of our rental unit in Vienna that could not be easily dismissed. At many, yet not all units in the building, ornamental wash basins appeared. The basins might have had Jewish origins. Their origins may have been otherwise. But the area above our basin was unique. Unlike any other basin in the building (Susan checked), it had a swastika drawn above it. While one can explain that swastika in some number of ways, to me, the most obvious one is that someone wanted to communicate an anti–Jewish message to people who lived in the apartment or rented it.

I can't say much more. The landlord came over to make some repairs and clean off the swastika. Did I think he fully understood why we felt the swastika to be so disturbing? I don't think so. I honestly think this is the world in which we live today. Some people just don't get it.

We are a bit more than halfway into our trip. I will share some other experiences with you.

Shabbat Shalom.

Special Israel Healing and Protection Service

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Special Israel Healing and Protection Service

By Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal

Dear Friends,

As Israel moves forward with its operation to end this devastating war, we are now getting a clearer picture of the pain, suffering, and devastation that has occurred so far. My heart is broken as I think about the people who were murdered, injured, and taken hostage. This time is filled with great anxiety, and keeping our minds from approaching the worst possible outcome is hard. We know that much suffering is still to come and will take a lifetime of healing. 

In my letter to the congregation on Monday, I encouraged us to join for prayer online and in person (on the few days during the week that we open Ellman Chapel).

This Thursday, October 12, at 6:00 p.m., please join us in Ellman Chapel for a special Mincha/Ma'ariv Service, where we will offer special prayers of strength, healing, protection, and courage for the days ahead.

In addition, I received a meaningful suggestion that we open Ellman Chapel each morning and evening throughout this week (Wednesday Evening, October 11–Monday Morning, October 16) for anybody who would like to sit in our sacred Ellman Chapel prayer space with a few others as we join the online platform in prayer. This is a time when we feel so alone, and our heart cries out to our sisters and brothers in Aretz Israel. Being together might bring a bit of comfort and courage as we strengthen ourselves for the difficult road ahead. Anyone is welcome to join us during the following dates and times:

  • Wednesday, October 11, 6:00 p.m.: Evening Minyan
  • Thursday, October 12, 7:15 a.m.: Morning Minyan (with the Torah service)
  • Thursday, October 12, 6:00 p.m.: Special Israel Healing and Protection Service
  • Friday, October 13, 7:15 a.m.: Morning Minyan
  • Friday, October 13, 6:00 p.m.: Shabbat Evening Service,
  • Saturday, October 14, 9:30 a.m.: Shabbat Morning Service (with the Torah service)
  • Saturday, October 14, 6:00 p.m.: Mincha (with the Torah Service), Seudah Sheleshet, Ma'ariv, Havdallah
  • Sunday, October 15, 9:00 a.m.: Morning Minyan (Rosh Chodesh Cheshvan, with the Torah Service)
  • Sunday, October 15, 6:00 p.m.: Evening Minyan
  • Monday, October 16, 7:15 a.m.: Morning Minyan (Rosh Chodesh Cheshvan, with the Torah Service)

I will be there each morning and evening to warm the room, and I hope you will join me if that is meaningful. 

If you can't come during minyan time but would like to sit in the Ellman Chapel during regular business hours to offer your own prayers, please call the office (404.355.5222) and let them know when you would like to come by. We welcome you with open arms.

Sending strength and comfort for the days ahead.

A Statement About the Situation in Israel

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A Statement About the Situation in Israel

By Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal

I have heard from many of you regarding great concern for the current Israeli government and the legislative/judicial proposals that many fear will change the fabric of Israeli society for the foreseeable future. Reports of massive protests in the streets and countless articles by individuals of all stripes sharing their grave concern and protest of where Israel might be heading is worrisome. I have remained silent, because I, like most people that I have talked to, am struggling to fully understand the situation, what can be done about it, and my place in bringing change. I know that my first and most important job right now is to educate myself. Reading, learning, and seeking out a better understanding of the situation is the first step in any sort of advocacy. I suspect that many within our community are, like me, feeling uninformed. I have included a few articles that I have found meaningful along with websites that provide insight into Israel democracy and society.

The next priority needs to be engagement with Israel which leads to supporting the institutions and agencies that are making Israel into the amazing place it promises to be. I have always been impressed by our many congregants who have been lovers and supporters of the State of Israel. They travel there often—They have a go-to organization that they support and often serve on various boards and committees. However, I have been saddened by the lack of cohesion as a congregation regarding Israel advocacy and support. Therefore, I feel that an important step forward will be to create a strong group within the synagogue that can dialogue, share ideas, argue (respectfully) and work together to grow the support and love for Israel.

This internal struggle for the soul of the State of Israel is fodder for anti-Israel, anti-Zionist, and antisemites. With the rise of global antisemitism, this situation is adding fuel to those who don't need it. My concern, however, isn't about them but about us. We know that a growing number of Jews are questioning their willingness to remain engaged with Israel while still others don't even have Israel on their radar. To be true ambassadors for Israel, we need to speak from knowledge, compassion, and experience. In addition, some have speculated that the proposed legislative changes might impact the place that Israel plays as a haven for Jews from around the world.

This all still leaves me asking—What can we do? I have chosen to remain in the diaspora which means that I don't vote in Israeli elections. While we need to speak out, we need to ensure that our words and actions bring our people closer together and closer to Israel and not push us farther apart. I am proposing that we start by studying the issues together, unpacking the various articles that might have important points and create a space for us to share our love and concern for the State of Israel and all the people who call our sacred land, home. Please email me if you are willing to be a part of this conversation (lrosenthal@aasynagogue.org). Israel is made stronger when the bonds that bind us are strong. I hope you will join me.

A Reflection On the Life of Rabbi Arnold Goodman

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A Reflection On the Life of Rabbi Arnold Goodman

By Rabbi Neil Sandler

When I think about Rabbi Arnold Goodman, of blessed memory, I almost invariably first remember my pre–Bar Mitzvah experience with him. In those days at the Adath Jeshurun in Minneapolis, Bar and Bat Mitzvah celebrants did not offer a D'var Torah on the weekly Torah Portion or Haftara. Instead, we wrote original prayers we offered at the end of the Torah Service as the Torah Scroll was returned to the Ark. Prior to my Bar Mitzvah, I wrote my draft prayer and sent it to Rabbi Goodman for his review. On the appointed day, my father and I went to the Adath office to pick up my final draft, as "edited" by Rabbi Goodman. This was the moment when I discovered that Rabbi Goodman was a magician! I hardly recognized a word in my prayer! Presto chango! It was all so different from what I had written! Today, more than fifty years after my Bar Mitzvah, I can remember only one phrase in that prayer, "As I don this tallit…" I remember turning to Dad after reading that phrase and asking, "Who is 'don' and what is he doing in my Bar Mitzvah prayer?!"

That was hardly the only "magic" that Rabbi Goodman performed over the course of his long and distinguished career in the rabbinate. If "magic" can loosely be thought of as envisioning and creating what might seem unimaginable, Rabbi Goodman truly was a magician. More accurately, he was a visionary and a model to learn from and emulate, especially for rabbis who served Conservative congregations. In Minneapolis and then here at Ahavath Achim, Rabbi Goodman brought a vision and plan to implement full egalitarian participation in worship. In 1975, the Adath Jeshurun, under Rabbi Goodman's leadership, built the "Kallah Center" in a "rural" Minneapolis suburb. The concept of creating Jewish immersion experiences outside of summer camps was still novel at the time. It was also very effective. And then there was that Rosh Hashana sermon later that year. As a teenager, I didn't really pay much attention to sermons (I was repaid for that cavalier attitude about sermons many times throughout my career). In 1975 at age 19 and spending my last High Holidays in Minneapolis, I listened to Rabbi Goodman speak. He yelled in anger. He prodded and, most importantly, he pushed people to act. Everyone was frozen in his/her chair, mesmerized by what they were witnessing. What they were witnessing was the unveiling of a vision for the "Chevra K'vod HaMet," an expression of a congregation's loving care for a deceased individual and his/her loved ones that supplemented the Chevra Kaddisha's preparation of the body for burial. My parents, of blessed memory, insisted that the Chevra K'vod Hamet provide its services at the time of their deaths. Without Rabbi Goodman, this choice likely would not have been available.

I was a "shul kid." My family was a "shul family." I remember formal Shabbat dinners and the delicious food at the Goodmans' home. I remember singing Shabbat songs around the table… and hearing my rabbi who didn't have the best voice. I remember watching Daniel (aka Dr. Goodman) run around the shul and sometimes get in trouble as I stood back to assure that I would not get caught up in this behavior "unbefitting the shul." The Goodmans and others at the Adath created a supportive environment that enabled eventual rabbis, future Jewish professionals, and good, committed, and caring Jews to take root and then, "fly" on their own.

Here is a personal piece of Rabbi Goodman's "magic…" convincing me to go to rabbinical school. In December 1977, I visited Rabbi Goodman back in Minneapolis after having begun non-rabbinical school studies at the Jewish Theological Seminary. I was planning to spend one year at the Seminary and then move on to a graduate program elsewhere. Rabbi Goodman explained why he thought I should go to rabbinical school. His advice was sound and helpful… and now, more than forty years later, I can reflect on a fulfilling career in the pulpit rabbinate.

When I succeeded Rabbi Goodman at Ahavath Achim, we developed a renewed relationship that brought each of us deep satisfaction. Although I had been a colleague of Rabbi Goodman for more years than I had been his congregant, prior to my coming to AA, our relationship was that of a rabbi–former congregant. Now the relationship grew in-depth, caring, and, yes, love. Rabbi Goodman would often call me to wish me well as Susan and I celebrated simchas over the years. Sometimes he would call just to check in with me. Whenever Rabbi Goodman came to Atlanta for his scholar–in–residence weekends (Shabbat learning experiences that often left me speechless as I watched him share with the congregation), he and I would sit for an hour or more to talk. He always asked about my family members — here and back in Minneapolis. Rabbi Goodman would always fill me in on his ever–expanding family. Then we would really talk. Our conversations were no longer the kind that rabbis and former congregants share. Now, the conversations were between rabbis who shared a love for the same congregation and community. Now, I saw a Rabbi Goodman who cared deeply about the well–being of our (and his) congregation long after he had ceded spiritual leadership of it. Now, I saw a Rabbi Goodman who was always striving—to learn more, to teach more, and to stimulate others' thinking and actions.

Rabbi Arnold Goodman, of blessed memory, was a wonder. His service to the Holy One, Israel, and the Jewish people brought continuing blessings and benefits to many people throughout his entire life.

A final word on the relationship Rabbi Goodman and I shared. I was named "Senior Rabbi" of Ahavath Achim Synagogue twenty years ago. Shortly thereafter, I attended the Rabbinical Assembly Convention in Israel. When I saw Rabbi Goodman, we embraced. Then we sat down. I told Rabbi Goodman that, irrespective of my advancing age, I would never call him "Arnold." To me, he would always be "Rabbi Goodman." And so it was for twenty more years.

Rabbi Arnold Goodman, of blessed memory, was a wise advisor to me. He was my mentor. He was my friend. I have always appreciated it when someone introduces me to someone I don't know and says, "This is my rabbi." I feel the warmth, respect, and pride in that statement. In that spirit, I conclude with heartfelt words, "Rabbi Arnold Goodman is my rabbi." He will always remain my rabbi. May our memories of the wisdom he shared with us, along with his kind and caring acts comfort us now and serve as a lasting tribute that will continue to resonate throughout our world.

And It Hits Home: A Message Concerning the Antisemitic Flyers

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And It Hits Home: A Message Concerning the Antisemitic Flyers

By Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal

Last week, I shared a message about the horrific murders of Shabbat worshipers coming out of a Jerusalem synagogue. This heinous act was followed closely by a firebomb thrown at the doors of a New Jersey Synagogue. This week, my inbox began filling up with notices from colleagues and congregants about antisemitic literature left on Dunwoody and Sandy Spring driveways as residents woke up on Sunday morning. Our local security detail that closely monitors Antisemitic activities in the Southeast does not see this act as a prelude to violence. Hopefully, this gives us a measure of comfort. However, this heinous act is deeply felt. Anger, fear, violation, and confusion are natural responses to this sort of activity. Unfortunately, shock is not one of the feelings anymore. Over the past few years, we have witnessed a steady increase in antisemitic actions everywhere, including Atlanta.

In my message last week, I offered a few ways we can support each other and push back against the social disease of antisemitism and the injury it hopes to inflict. I've offered this list again and added a few more ideas. In addition, below are some resources that will let us report, call out, and talk with those we love.

In this particular instance, there is something specific that we can do to push back against the evil messages left on our neighbor's driveway. The indiscriminate method by which these flyers were distributed leads me to believe that they were both trying to terrorize and recruit. This provides each of us, especially Jews who woke up with these disgusting messages on our property, with an opportunity and a responsibility. Knock on the door of your neighbor to the right and left of your house. If you received these vile messages, then your non-Jewish neighbors probably did as well. Talk to them about it. Invite them into the conversation. Make sure that their understanding and relationship with Judaism aren't the images that were scribbled on the paper. Instead, Judaism should be represented by the care, compassion, and sincerity on your face as you stand on their front porch. Hate is not defeated by hate. It is defeated by love. Our Torah gives us the wisdom we need:

וְאָהַבְתָּ לְרֵעֲךָ כָּמוֹךָ

Love your neighbor as yourself (Leviticus 19:18).

Let's go out and paint a different picture of Jews than the ones left on their driveways.

Resources:

  • The Anti-Defamation League (ADL), which tracks and responds to antisemitism in the community and national level, has jumped on responding to this incident. If you need to report an antisemitic incident, click here.
  • Each synagogue and spiritual institution has its own sacred rhythms and rituals which require a specific mindfulness to ensure our safety and security. The ADL in conjunction with the United Synagogue of Conservative Synagogues has created an important tool kit for communities like ours.
  • One of the most devastating conversatiosn about this sort of hate is with our children. The ADL provides meaningful tips for how to guide these conversations with your family.

Ways to fight antisemitism:

  • Join our antisemitism task force as part of ADL's (Anti-Defamation League) Kulanu Initiaitve. Email Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal to learn more (lrosenthal@aasynagogue.org).
  • Be an ally: Other groups are also being marginalized and terrorized in our country. Show up when they are threatened, and they will show up for us.
  • Live Jewishly. Loud and proud.
  • Click on news articles in your local press about antisemitism. The news agencies are watching our reading habits. If more people are reading about antisemitism, they will send their reporters out to cover it.
  • Know our history: Read books, watch films, and visit the Breman Museum and Kennesaw University's Museum of History and Holocaust Education. Attend Hemshech's 58th Annual Community Yom Hashoah Service of Remembrance on April 16 at Greenwood Cemetery.

Concerning the Hatred in Israel and America

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Concerning the Hatred in Israel and America

By Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal

After emerging from the sanctity of Shabbat last week, we were struck with the horrible news of seven people slaughtered in Jerusalem coming out of worship services. Their lives were cut short, their dreams extinguished and their sacred place, desecrated. There are no words that can bring adequate healing to the families of these victims. May our prayers help lift the souls of Eli and Natali Mizrahi, Raphael Ben Eliyahu, Asher Natan, Shaul Hai, Ilya Sosansky, and Irina Korolova.

In the days and weeks to come, these individuals and the many others who have suffered at the hands of terror will be shuffled into the dialogue about the bitter conflict between the Palestinian government and the Israeli government. We continue to seek God's guidance and hope of divine intervention to bring peace to all people in the land. All loss of innocent life is a tragedy, and we must continue to insist that Israel's right to defend itself be carefully measured to ensure that death and injury to civilians among the Palestinian people be minimized. However, the brutal violence against Shabbat morning worshippers cannot and must not be mixed into the desensitized rhetoric we have become accustomed to regarding this conflict.

Unfortunately, we are seeing a similar sort of hatred gain traction in our own country. Not long after we received word of the horrific murders in Jerusalem, we learned about a masked assailant who threw a Molotov explosive at the doors of a synagogue in New Jersey. We are grateful that the explosive was ineffective and that no damage was reported. However, Jews all over our country are reporting incidents of antisemitism and fearing for their safety and security. Although I am a great believer in the power of prayer, my theology and spiritual practice see prayer's greatest gift as a motivator, sending its practitioners into action. Hand-wringing and shoulder-shrugging are not the order of the day. We must send our prayer upward towards God and then downward towards our feet so we can get up and get moving.

Here are a few things we can do to make a difference:

In Israel:

  • Buy Israeli products: Seek out Israeli products at your local grocery, and buy one more than you need.
  • Travel to Israel: Plan a trip, or join a community mission.
  • Educate yourself about Israel, its history, and the conflict.
  • Celebrate Israel's 75th birthday with the community at the Yom Ha'Atzmaut Celebration on April 27 at Brook Run Park.

In America:

  • Join our antisemitism task force as part of ADL's (Anti-Defamation League) Kulanu Initiaitve. Email Rabbi Laurence Rosenthal to learn more (lrosenthal@aasynagogue.org).
  • Be an ally: Other groups are also being marginalized and terrorized in our country. Show up when they are threatened, and they will show up for us.
  • Live Jewishly. Loud and proud.
  • Click on news articles in your local press about antisemitism. The news agencies are watching our reading habits. If more people are reading about antisemitism, they will send their reporters out to cover it.
  • Know our history: Read books, watch films, and visit the Breman Museum and Kennesaw University's Museum of History and Holocaust Education. Attend Hemshech's 58th Annual Community Yom Hashoah Service of Remembrance on April 16 at Greenwood Cemetery.

A Moment of Torah with Rabbi Neil Sandler – Parshat Chaye Sarah 5783

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A Moment of Torah with Rabbi Neil Sandler

Chaye Sarah 5783

By Rabbi Neil Sandler

I participate in a men's group at Emory that focuses on meditation and reflection. The other day we were talking about aging (that was fun…). One of the participants mentioned something we all have heard and may have said, "The 'Golden Years' years aren't so golden." I have discovered some blessings of senior citizen life, but I still must agree with my fellow group member's sentiments. Sixty-six is not the new forty-six. "Mature" age brings its challenges, including loss.

Thankfully, our parsha this week offers us a different perspective. It reminds us of another truth about growing older that beats back the depression which might otherwise envelope us. At the beginning of the Torah Portion, our Matriarch Sarah dies. Sarah was one hundred twenty-seven years old at the time of her death. The Torah's unique way of saying "127 years old" gives rise to a comment by Rashi. He reflects on the Torah's expression of Sarah's age ("one hundred years and twenty years and seven years") and offers the following comment:

At 100, Sarah was free of sin as a 20-year-old, and at 20 she was as beautiful as a 7-year-old.

Lay aside a literal understanding of Rashi's words. Such an understanding will only result in troubling questions and, ultimately, the dismissal of any truth in Rashi's sentiments. I think there is truth here if we approach Rashi's thoughts differently. I think Rashi is suggesting something about stages in life and their potential beauty. Yes, there are certain qualities that tend to characterize specific ages in people's lives. However, the presence of one quality, for example beauty, does not preclude its presence in an individual much later in life. "Mature age" can be a time for any number of characteristics we might ordinarily associate with younger ages.

Yes, the challenges of our senior years are very real. But let's not lose sight of the fact they may also be filled with "golden" aspects to which we choose to give expression.

Shabbat Shalom, and enjoy a blessed Thanksgiving!

A Moment of Torah with Rabbi Neil Sandler – Parshat Vayera 5783

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A Moment of Torah with Rabbi Neil Sandler

Vayera 5783

By Rabbi Neil Sandler

Have you ever been in a position where a person you greatly respect defers to you? How about this–You are sitting on a bus when an elderly individual you recognize walks by. You stand up so that he may sit down. But the elderly individual looks in your face, recognizes you and says, "I can't take your seat. That would be disrespectful of me." Even if you have never had such an experience, you can imagine how odd it would seem. According to Rashi, the medieval commentator, Abraham had this kind of awkward experience with the Holy One at the beginning of our parsha.

In the opening verse of the Torah Portion, we read:

The Lord appeared to (Abraham) by the terebinths of Mamre; he was sitting at the entrance of the tent as the day grew hot (Genesis 18:1).

Rashi notes that the Hebrew word for "sitting" can also be vocalized as "sat," a seemingly insignificant difference in tense, but one that he interprets in a very interesting and challenging way:

Abraham tried to get up, but the Holy One reassured him, "Sit and I will stand."

Consider this practically unimaginable image which Rashi presents. From last week's parsha, we know that Abraham is in great pain following his circumcision. We can only imagine that as the day grows hotter, Abraham's discomfort grows. In an attempt to gain some relief, he sits. Up to this point, everything is understandable and just fine. What happened next? God, the Sovereign of sovereigns, stops by to pay Abraham and Sarah a visit. Can you imagine this scene? God is right there in front of Abraham! Abraham does what anyone would do if one saw the Holy One standing in front of her while she was seated. Abraham stood up! Immediately, God said to Abraham, "Sit and I will stand."

It's not difficult to understand why Abraham, despite his physical discomfort, stood up when the Holy One entered. But what motivated God to tell Abraham to sit while God stood? One possible answer rests upon the Holy One's compassion and caring for all of the divine creations. God could see that Abraham was in physical pain for reasons related to God's instructions (i.e., circumcision). Therefore, the Holy One decided that deference to the divine should be set aside in favor of Abraham's comfort.

I think there is at least one other way to understand Rashi's comment, and it is both interesting and challenging. The Holy One knew Abraham. The Holy One knew about Abraham's faithfulness and readiness to fulfill the divine demands. As the Sodom and Gomorrah episode would soon prove, the Holy One knew that Abraham's concern for people and their just treatment was of paramount importance to Abraham. Abraham was a unique individual. Consequently, when God came to visit, the Holy One showed Abraham divine respect by shockingly standing while Abraham sat.

What makes Rashi's understanding of Abraham's sitting while God stands both interesting and challenging is its application to our own lives. Please lay aside a literal understanding of the opening of our Torah Portion and Rashi's interpretation of it. These are images that convey messages; in this case, I think, an image of the ideal. Abraham is far from perfect. He clearly has some shortcomings. Yet, my understanding of Rashi's words suggests that Abraham is someone we ought to seek to emulate, as I described in the preceding paragraph. Imagine the Holy One entering your house and telling you to remain seated while God remained standing before you. Can each of us seek to live a life worthy of such an image?

Shabbat Shalom.