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