SEPTEMBER 26 • 2024 | 93
J
N
from within: from within a culture,
a tradition, a sensibility. They come
from the syntax and semantics of
the native language of the soul:
“The word is very near you; it is in
your mouth and in your heart so
you may obey it.”
The beauty of Jewish spirituality
is precisely that in Judaism God is
close. You do not need to climb a
mountain or enter an ashram to
find the Divine Presence. It is there
around the table at a Shabbat meal,
in the light of the candles and the
simple holiness of the Kiddush wine
and the challot, in the praise of
the Eishet Chayil and the blessing of
children, in the peace of mind that
comes when you leave the world to
look after itself for a day while you
celebrate the good things that come
not from working but resting, not
from buying but enjoying — the
gifts you have had all along but did
not have time to appreciate.
In Judaism, God is close. He is
there in the poetry of the psalms,
the greatest literature of the soul
ever written. He is there listening in
to our debates as we study a page of
the Talmud or offer new interpreta-
tions of ancient texts. He is there in
the joy of the festivals, the tears of
Tisha b’Av, the echoes of the shofar
of Rosh Hashanah and the contri-
tion of Yom Kippur. He is there in
the very air of the land of Israel and
the stones of Jerusalem, where the
oldest of the old and the newest of
the new mingle together like close
friends.
God is near. That is the over-
whelming feeling I get from a
lifetime of engaging with the faith
of our ancestors. Judaism needed
no cathedrals, no monasteries, no
abstruse theologies, no metaphysi-
cal ingenuities — beautiful though
all these are — because for us God
is the God of everyone and every-
where, who has time for each of us,
and who meets us where we are, if
we are willing to open our soul to
Him.
I am a rabbi. For many years, I
was a chief rabbi. But in the end, I
think it was we, the rabbis, who did
not do enough to help people open
their doors, their minds, and their
feelings to the Presence-beyond-
the-universe-who-created-us-in-
love that our ancestors knew so well
and loved so much.
We were afraid — of the intellec-
tual challenges of an aggressively
secular culture, of the social chal-
lenges of being in yet not entirely
of the world, of the emotional chal-
lenge of finding Jews or Judaism
or the State of Israel criticized and
condemned. So, we retreated behind
a high wall, thinking that made us
safe.
High walls never make you safe;
They only make you fearful. What
makes you safe is confronting the
challenges without fear and inspir-
ing others to do likewise.
What Moses meant in those
extraordinary words, “It is not
in heaven … nor is it beyond the
sea,” was: Kinderlach, your parents
trembled when they heard the voice
of God at Sinai. They were over-
whelmed. They said: If we hear any
more, we will die. So, God found
ways in which you could meet Him
without being overwhelmed. Yes,
He is creator, sovereign, supreme
power, first cause, mover of the
planets and the stars. But He is also
parent, partner, lover, friend. He
is Shechinah, from shachen, mean-
ing, the neighbor next door.
So, thank Him every morning for
the gift of life. Say the Shema twice
daily for the gift of love. Join your
voice to others in prayer so that His
spirit may flow through you, giving
you the strength and courage to
change the world.
When you cannot see Him, it
is because you are looking in the
wrong direction. When He seems
absent, He is there just behind you,
but you have to turn to meet Him.
Do not treat Him like a stranger. He
loves you. He believes in you. He
wants your success. To find Him,
you do not have to climb to heaven
or cross the sea. His is the voice you
hear in the silence of the soul. His
is the light you see when you open
your eyes to wonder. His is the hand
you touch in the pit of despair. His
is the breath that gives you life.
C
hoose life … by loving
your God, heeding God’s
commands and holding fast
to [God].”
How do we choose life? One way
is to pursue the mitzvah of yishuv
ha’olam, the call to preserve
and maintain a sustainable
world, which some
commentators believe to be
the most fundamental of
the mitzvot. Preserving and
maintaining our world is one
way we can choose life.
Choosing life was not
a simple choice for our
ancestors and it is not a
simple choice for us today.
Our ancestors were located
on the precipice of the
Promised Land, unknowing
what the future would hold.
We are on the precipice of
irrevocable climate change.
Every day we get up to face the
impact of humankind on our planet.
Each day I look at the weather
prediction and consider how it was
different in years past. Each day I
check if my family is in the path of a
hurricane, a tornado or a blizzard.
As the impact of climate change
continues to grow, I consider my
personal choices and how both I
and my congregation can change
our behaviors to guide ourselves and
those around us to live a simpler
existence. Stop purchasing plastics,
embrace solar energy, grow one’s
composting practice and reduce our
carbon footprint.
The congregation is preparing
for solar panels to be installed on
the roof, has an active composting
area, is embracing native plants and
participates in regular river cleanups.
Still, we recognize that these are
small steps when larger state and
federal policies need to be adopted
and implemented.
Judaism teaches that God
created the Earth and that we
are its caretakers, but we are
failing at the job. Each day, I
recognize that the congregation
has more to do as a community;
and that I, as an individual,
have not done enough. Yet, each
day I am reminded that God
told us to choose life and that
tomorrow I can try again.
As we approach the High
Holidays we are in a period of
teshuvah, return, for the ways in
which we have fallen short. As
we recite Viddui, our communal
confession, we must acknowledge
the ways in which our actions and
the larger actions of humanity
have changed the planet. We must
acknowledge the harm done, and we
must change our actions in the new
year.
Without actively changing our
ways, we will continue harming the
only home that we have. As God
challenges us to choose life, as we
conclude the year 5784 and pray for
life and wellbeing in 5785, I hope
we all adhere to the call for our
families, our creatures, our oceans
and our futures.
Simone Schicker is rabbi at Temple B’nai
Israel in Kalamazoo.
TORAH PORTION
Rabbi
Simone
Schicker
Parshat
Nitzvaim/
Vayelekh:
Deuteronomy
29:9-31:30;
Isaiah
61:10-63:9.
Choose
Choose
Life
Life