Tuesday, September 29, 2020

Yom Kippur Morning 5781 - Cancel Culture vs. Teshuvah

 I would like to personally thank the Albuquerque Journal and Dan Piraro, the author of the Bizarro comic, for giving me in yesterday’s paper the perfect opening to this morning’s sermon .


Joell, can you please share the comic please.



Thank you Joell. You can take it down now.


This is how I know I’m getting old. About two months ago, something popped up in my Facebook feed about Cancel Culture and I had to Google it to find out what it means (actually I use Duck Duck Go) . For those of you who still do not know, here is the definition from the Urban Dictionary: “A modern internet phenomenon where a person is ejected from influence or fame by questionable actions.


In other words, someone does something, or says something, that crosses a line that is considered to be offensive and others call for a boycott of that person. Even if the person recognizes what s/he did was offensive and sincerely apologizes, they remain “cancelled” to many. I am not speaking here of acts that violate the law, but rather, legal acts that are deemed to be offensive. It is the most un-Jewish phenomenon, especially at this time of year.


Let me be clear. I am not saying Cancel Culture is anti-Semitic. I am saying that it violates the Jewish value of תשובה – repentance - as it does not allow for any consideration of sincerely repenting and change in behavior.


This is not a new phenomenon, although with the growth of technology, it has become more pervasive. In the past, Cancel Culture has involved, censorship, not tolerating flip-flopping, and dozens of other supposed sins.


Some examples. Growing up in the sixties and seventies, there were, and still are today, calls to remove various pieces of classical literature because in our times they are culturally insensitive. Often, these works accurately represent the values of their times. Back in the day, as it were, there were calls to remove the works of Mark Twain from my high school’s English curriculum. I remember my friends and I, then seniors in high school, working to keep the books in the curriculum. We believed, and I still do, that learning the values of the past, with an eye on the values of today, can teach us about how far we have come, how far we have yet to go.


Cancel Culture in its multiple forms has been a part of our politics throughout my life. Politicians whose positions have changed with time are vilified and cancelled. In presidential politics, both President Bush’s, Presidents Clinton and Obama, and innumerable candidates, most memorably John Kerry and John McCain, were labeled flip-flopper. I yearn for politicians who are open enough to the thinking of others, that they regularly reevaluate, and even change their positions. Today it is worse. Any politician perceived as being less than ideologically pure, is ostracized, cut off, Culture Cancelled.


If we were to do a true self-reflection during these Days of Awe, could any of us honestly say that we have not said or done anything that could get us cancelled? Of course not.


Cancel Culture eliminates the possibility of Teshuvah, personal or communal, and thus eliminates the need for this Day of Atonement.


The Rabbis recognized that emotional wounds run as deep, if not deeper than physical ones. The Talmud, as well as later Midrash and commentaries are replete with reinterpretations of stories about our Patriarchs and Matriarchs explaining how, contrary to the Biblical text, they did not emotional harm each other. From Sarah laughing at the possibility that Abraham could father a child at age 100, to trying to explain how Joseph really did not tattle on his brothers, the textual acrobatics boggle the mind.


In each of these reinterpretations, one finds the Rabbis leading us on a path to see that Teshuvah is possible, even if, as in the case of Jacob and Esau or Joseph and his brothers, it takes decades.


If, instead of quickly cancelling someone whose words or deeds offend us, we engage with the person and explain the emotional impact upon us, we open the possibility for repentance. We open the possibility of personal and societal growth for all.


Wrapped in our personal pain, we forget that emotions help set societal norms.  As soon as we share them, our emotions have a communal impact. Social media allows us to spread our emotional pain around the globe, raising awareness, and increasing the possibility for positive change and growth.


Imagine the society we could build if, instead of using our pain to cancel, we engage with each other, take the time to actually hear each other, and allow room for repentance, change and growth.


That is the message of this Day of Atonement, the call of these Days of Awe. Let us commit to using our pain not to cancel but to recognize the power of repentance and engage to bring positive growth and change to our world.


G’mar Chatimah Tovah

Yom Kippur Evening 5781 - Who Can Be A Member of Our Community

Some of you have wondered, and the bravest among you have asked; what am I going to talk about during my last High Holy Day sermons. As one person said to me: “It’s your last High Holy Days here. You can say whatever you want!” What are they going to do, fire you?  I smile at that because, as many of you have chastised me over the years, I always speak about whatever I want. This Yom Kippur, I would like to leave you with a part of my vision of the inclusiveness a Jewish community should embody.


Tomorrow, as we do every year, we will read: You stand this day, all of you, before the ETERNAL your God—your tribal heads, your elders and your officials, all the men of Israel, your children, your women, even the stranger within your camp, from woodchopper to water drawer.


One of the many reasons the early leaders of the Reform Movement chose  to read this passage on Yom Kippur morning is the inclusive definition of who is a part of the Jewish community. But, in the 19th Century, they could not envision how to include “the stranger within your camp” into the Jewish community. For them, it was a community made up solely of Jews who looked like them. But, this Torah text and others are clear, not only Jews are a part of the Jewish community, non-Jews are as well.


Our portion is crystal clear in its definition. Everyone, from the highest officials to those who have the least, regardless of gender or age, race or ethnicity who stand with the Jewish community, constitute the Jewish community.


Today, we are comfortable welcoming, the LGBTQ+ community and every racial, every ethnic group as members of Congregation Albert. We welcome into membership non-Jewish spouses and partners regardless of their religion. They can even choose to remain members of Congregation Albert after they, and their Jewish spouse/partner separate, or the Jewish partner dies. But, what of the non-Jew exploring Judaism with the potential of conversion? What of the non-Jew who comes to study with us, pray with us, congregate with us, who wants to be a part of our community but does not want to convert, who wants to be a part of our community. If you are on Zoom, look at the participant list, I guarantee that there are a significant number of non-Jews participating with us on this Erev Yom Kippur.


The question is not, who is a Jew, but who can be a part of our Jewish community and our congregation.


There are three definitions of membership in a community. 1) Memory, 2) Covenant, and 3) Holiness.


1)  Memory. We are united by a common meta-story, the Exodus from Egypt and revelation at Sinai. Every year we recount the tale of our transformation from slaves to free people and the forging of our community. We ignore that we were not alone. Others joined us as we crossed the Red Sea and chose to transform ourselves at Sinai. Exodus 12:48 specifically commands to include the stranger who lives among us: “as a citizen of the country.” A non-Jew, who lives as a part of the Jewish community is not Jewish, but, is a full part of the community.


This inclusiveness is reinforced in the first piece of Jewish liturgy found in Deuteronomy 26:11 and recited each year in the Passover Seder: “You shall rejoice in all the good that the ETERNAL your God has given to you and to your house, you the Levite and the stranger who lives with you.”


Logging into, and downloading the memory, is a conscious choice. There are Jews who choose to forget and separate themselves from the Jewish community, and non-Jews who choose to remember and cleave to us.


2)  Covenant. Torah also teaches that membership in the Covenant with God is porous. In each generation we have to choose to be a part of the covenant. Ritually we have four ceremonies for Jews to express that choice: Brit, entering the covenant at birth; Bar/Bat Mitzvah upon at age 13; Confirmation at the beginning of young adulthood; Conversion to Judaism for adults. The ritual of Conversion is for the non-Jew who wants to be Jewish. There is not now, nor has there ever been, a ritual or ceremony to admit a non-Jew to the Jewish community without converting. They were just welcomed.


3)  Holiness. Tomorrow afternoon we will read Leviticus 19, the holiness code from our Svihov scroll which survived the Shoah. Upon my arrival at Congregation Albert, I chose to have us read this passage from this scroll as a reminder to each of us that being holy means acting Godly, even when the rest of the world does not. The Holiness Code commands us to act in ways that are kind and benefit Jew and non-Jew alike. In this way we become holy as God is holy. Holiness is feeding the hungry, clothing the stranger, paying workers their earned wages, caring for those in our community, Jews or non-Jews, who cannot provide for themselves. We are called upon to love our fellow Jews, not always easy, and to love the non-Jews who choose to live among us.


Teens, and adults, love to point out to me that these laws are basic moral, ethical principles of living. They are not exclusively Jewish behaviors, non-Jews value them and do them too. Yes. That is the point.


Membership in the Jewish community is multidimensional. One can claim membership through Memory and/or Covenant and/or Holiness. One can be Jewish and be a part of the community. One can be non-Jewish and a part of the community.


Yet, even in this open, pluralistic vision of the Jewish community, there are boundaries in which every member of the Jewish community, Jew or non-Jew must fall within.


One cannot be a part of the Jewish community if s/he believes is a believer in another religion, believes in more than one God and/or believes the Messiah has come. These people can be our closest friends, yet, cannot be a part of our Jewish community. Our partnerships with the multitude of religious groups in Albuquerque attests to this. But they cannot be counted among those who dwell among us. But, many non-Jews fall within these boundaries and should be counted as members of our Jewish community, if they so desire.


Our By-laws state: “Any person of the Jewish faith or such person’s non-Jewish partner, eighteen years of age or older, who wishes to associate with the Congregation and accepts the responsibilities of membership will become a member on approval of such person’s membership by the Board of Trustees. In the event of the death or divorce of a Jewish member, the non-Jewish partner may continue his or her membership.”


We already allow non-Jews who have Jewish partners, even if they are members of another religion to become members and remain so as long as they want. We count among our members practicing Christians, Hindus, Buddhists and Muslims.


Even so, there are many non-Jews who fall within these boundaries, they do not believe in more than one God and that the Messiah has not yet come. are not married to Jews but want to be a part of our Congregation Albert. Why do we exclude them?


In the Galilee you can see the ruins of synagogues that date from the 1st Century BCE through the 2nd Century CE. On the surviving walls and columns you can see the names of the donors who contributed to sustaining those synagogues. Yes, the tradition of donor plaques dates to antiquity. Among those names, you will find a plethora of non-Jewish names. In those days, non-Jews who did not want to formally convert to Judaism were members of those shuls. When the Romans made associating with Jews and studying Judaism punishable by death, the practice stopped. Today, that threat no longer exists.


What if we were to begin a conversation about changing our membership criteria to read: “Any person of the Jewish faith, or who is not a practicing member of another faith, or is the spouse or partner of a Jewish member of the Congregation, who wishes to associate with the Congregation and accepts the responsibilities of membership will become a member on approval of such person’s membership by the Board of Trustees.”? I believe these non-Jews who, through memory, covenant, or holiness, belong to the Jewish community, would enhance our congregational family with their energy and talent. We currently have appropriate policies that certain lay positions can only be filled by Jews, for example President or the chair of the Religious Practices or School committees.

On page 328 of our Yom Kippur prayerbook, there is a quote from Isaiah 2:2-3, which has been in every Reform prayerbook since 1898.


וְהָיָ֣ה ׀ בְּאַחֲרִ֣ית הַיָּמִ֗ים נָכ֨וֹן יִֽהְיֶ֜ה הַ֤ר בֵּית־יְהוָה֙ בְּרֹ֣אשׁ הֶהָרִ֔ים וְנִשָּׂ֖א מִגְּבָע֑וֹת וְנָהֲר֥וּ אֵלָ֖יו כָּל־הַגּוֹיִֽם׃ וְֽהָלְכ֞וּ עַמִּ֣ים רַבִּ֗ים וְאָמְרוּ֙ לְכ֣וּ ׀ וְנַעֲלֶ֣ה אֶל־הַר־יְהוָ֗ה אֶל־בֵּית֙ אֱלֹהֵ֣י יַעֲקֹ֔ב וְיֹרֵ֙נוּ֙ מִדְּרָכָ֔יו וְנֵלְכָ֖ה בְּאֹרְחֹתָ֑יו...׃


“It shall come to pass, in the fullness of time, that the mountain of the House of God shall be established as the highest mountain, and raised above the hills; and all nations shall flow to it. Then many peoples shall say: Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Eternal, to the House of the God of Jacob. And they shall say: Teach us Your ways, that we may walk in Your paths.”


It is time for us to open our doors to anyone who is not a practicing member of another faith who wishes to join us.


Only then do we fulfill the words of tomorrow morning’s Torah Portion, the challenge at Sinai, and the prophecy of Isaiah.


G’mar Chatimah Tovah


Monday, September 21, 2020

Rosh Hashanah Morning 5781 - U'netaneh Tokef: A Call To Be Great

 

Blood

דָּם

Frogs

צְפַרְדֵּעַ

Lice

כִּנִּים

Flies

עָרוֹב

Pestilence

דֶּבֶר

Boils

שְׁחִין

Hail

בָּרָד

Locust

אַרְבֶּה

Darkness

חשֶׁךְ

Killing of the First Born

מַכַּת בְּכוֹרוֹת

 

Yes, I know it is Rosh Hashanah not Pesach, but it is hard to ignore the parallels Between the beginning of the redemption from Egypt and the past few years.

 

The Nile turning to Blood - 2015 The Animus River turns orange from a                                                                                 toxic waste spill.

 

Croaking Frogs - The loud sounds made by those who have been oppressed                                     for centuries.

 

Lice - Remember when this was the major worry of parents about their kids             going to school? Now it is violence and disease.

 

Flies - Gathering around the bodies of the slaughtered in ethnic violence                                around the world.

 

Pestilence - As of yesterday, the 6,656,799 cases of COVID in the US and                                           the 30,751,369 cases world wide.

 

Boils - The sores of those still suffering from ebola and other diseases.

 

Hail - The growing number and strength of storms coming from the sea and            the plains bringing destruction and devastation to our shores and our                              world.

 

Swarming Locust - 2015 and 2019 in Israel and here in the west.

 

Oppressive Darkness - The growing depression, isolation and loneliness                                            infecting so many during this time of physical distancing.

 

Death of the First Born - As of yesterday, the 197,116 COVID deaths in the                                                                US and the 957,360 deaths worldwide.

 

Our High Holy Day liturgy includes any number of Piyutim. Liturgical poems written to guide our thoughts inward for self-reflection on where we have done well and, more often, where we have fallen short.

 

In the top five most well known of these Piyutim we find the U’netaneh Tokef. Erroneously attributed to Rabbi Amnon of Mainz during the crusades, it is much older. The words haunt us each year with a surface theology and philosophy we yearn to reject. The image of God sitting high above, pen in hand, with the Book of Life lying open before the throne of justice. God writes who shall live and who shall die, and how they shall die. As we will read sing: “Who by fire? Who by water? Who by illness? Who by sword? And as we will hear, Leonard Cohen adds: Who for his greed, who for his hunger?

 

If we reject the theology of the Piyut, how then do we deal with these words which seem to be at the essence of these holy days?

 

Without revealing her name, Rabbi Harold Schulweis of blessed memory, published a letter from a woman with cancer, who left shul on Rosh Hashanah in the middle of U’netaneh Tokef. In part she wrote: the “... liturgy was binding my fate to my behavior; that my illness, seen in this light, has been the result of some terrible unknown transgression, and that the ultimate punishment for failure to discover and correct it could be my death.”

 

This woman identifies the core problem with the premise of the prayer, that we are responsible for all the harm that befalls us. She got cancer because of some unknown, unrecognized, and thus not repented for, sin. The cancer that ravaged her body was not caused by exposure to cancer causing chemicals she knowingly or unknowingly came into contact with. It was not caused by a simple mutation of her cells. No, this woman brought the disease upon herself. Blame her. It was her own fault.

 

On the surface, U’netaneh Tokef promulgates this world view of blaming the victim. Today, blaming the victim infects our our society every time a man of color driving is pulled over for having the audacity to drive a nice car. Every time men catcall a woman who dares to dress nicely. Every time a child is bullied in school because their family religion is not our own. Our society defaults to a starting position of blaming the victim. Is this who we want to be?

 

True, we do bear the responsibility for the consequences to ourselves and others when our choices and actions miss the mark. Before we forgive ourselves we must ask forgiveness from those whom we have wronged. Leonard Cohen’s Who By Fire calls us to this modern understanding of no longer blaming the victim and accept the responsibility of our own choices, our own sins.

 

But like Kol Nidre or Kaddish, the words of U’netaneh Tokef are less about the meaning and more about the sound and the tradition. The melody and the rhythm in which we intone the words, like Avinu Malkeinu and Kol Nidre help us feel the awe of these Days of Awe, so too, U’netaneh Tokef

 

Matti Friedman, in his 2012 Times of Israel article; “A Yom Kippur Melody Spun from Grief, Atonement, and Memory” tells us the story of kibbutz Beit Hashita and the Yom Kippur war. Eleven kibbutz members were killed during that war. The day after the end of the war, eleven trucks, bearing eleven bodies came through the kibbutz gates, for 11 simultaneous burials.

 

Beit Hashita was and still is a secular kibbutz. But in 1990, Israeli songwriter, Yair Rosenblum came to Beit Hashita and felt ongoing the pain of those deaths. He was moved and wrote a new melody for U’netaneh Tokef. On Yom Kippur 1990, the prayer was sung. Friedman describes what happened as a kibbutz member began to sing: “The song was sung at the end of the ceremony on the eve of Yom Kippur…. ‘When Hanoch Albalak began to sing and broke open the gates of heaven, the audience was struck dumb.’… ‘It was like a shared religious experience that linked the experience of loss… the words of Jewish prayer… and the melody.’… ‘When I sang, I saw more than a few people crying,’ Albalak recalled.

“In Israel, it is now one of the most widespread melodies used for the prayer that marks the height of the (Rosh Hashanah and) Yom Kippur service.”

 

Pain, memory, prayer and song melded to move hearts, to heal hearts.

 

Toward the end of U’netaneh Tokef, there is a another passage in that is difficult for us in a different way. It reads, “Human beings come from dust, and return to dust, expending their lives in their labor for their food. they are like broken earthenware, like withered grass…”

 

Admitting that we are broken pieces of pottery and withered grass may flow from the tongue, but is hard to swallow. We love to see ourselves as whole. Sure, we each have some level of physical or mental or emotional impairment, but we yearn to see ourselves, and have others see us with a level of perfection that can only come from being created in the Divine image. The angst created when we fear others may see us as imperfect, serves to further impair us. We fear they will restrict us, hamper us, mock us, take advantage of us. We often end up causing our imperfections to fully define us and feel unworthy of the respect and love of others.

 

But that should not be the case. Somewhere in the fifth to seventh centuries, Rabbi Alexandri commented on the U’netaneh Tokef in the Pesikta d’Rav Kahana. He wrote: “all of God’s work is done with broken earthenware vessels.” Those broken vessels are us: you and me. We ,who are co-partners with God in creation; We, who solve the mysteries of the world; We are the ones who through art, music, and science bring healing to a world increasingly broken.

 

When we remember that God’s best work is done with broken tools, i.e. us, then we understand that U’netaneh Tokef calls us to strive to reach higher and heal ourselves through Repentance, Prayer and Tzedakah. In Actuality, this Piyut is a statement of the strength of the human spirit itself. Through that spirit, we embody the potential to heal a world we fractured.

 

Shanah Tovah

Erev Rosh Hashanah 5781 - Sacred Time vs. Sacred Space

 This is not how I thought I would conduct my last High Holy Day services before I retire. Cantor Finn and I expected to be able to greet you in the Kaufman Foyer; shake your hands as we walk in or out of the sanctuary; have in person, face to face conversations with you. Since Albuquerque is our home, Michele and I hope to greet you in person over the coming years.

 

I know most of you share this sense of disconnect as well. We are together while separated by miles. It is disconcerting this new, different, and odd way of being together. Can we find ways to deepen the spiritual feeling, the holiness of these Days of Awe? I believe we can.

 

How can I be so sure? Our inability to worship together in our sanctuary is temporary. We do not know when, but we do know we will be back. Our ancestors were not so blessed. When the Temple in Jerusalem was destroyed, the Roman’s permanently exiled us from our holy of holies. In response, our ancestors created something greater, the synagogue. Unlike the Temple the synagogue was, and is, much more than a place of worship. In addition to prayers, we fill our synagogue with learning and community.

 

For us, the pandemic keeps us physically apart but it also breaks down other barriers. Through FaceTime, Skype, Zoom and other technologies we can spend our holy times together with family around the world. Each Shabbat it is gratifying to see many of your out of town family joining you for our services.

 

Our synagogue, our sanctuary, our chapel are sacred space because of the memories we created there. But spaces are vulnerable. The Temple was destroyed. Our synagogue is currently unavailable to us, so, following the example of our ancestors, we find new ways to come together, create new memories, create new holiness.

 

Why do we miss our sanctuary so much? Why do we feel that these holy days will be less without being present in it? Does absence from a place make the heart grow fonder?

 

In a 1977 article entitled “A Pattern Language: Towns, Buildings, Construction,” a group of architects wrote: “What is a church or temple? It is a place of worship, spirit, contemplation, of course.” They then go on to describe why it feels holy: “…we do believe that one fundamental characteristic is invariant from culture to culture. In all cultures it seems that whatever it is that is holy will only be felt as holy, if it is hard to reach, if it requires layers of access, waiting, levels of approach, a gradual unpeeling, gradual revelation, passage through a series of gates.” The Pandemic separated us from our holy space creating more layers of access and waiting. Making it harder than ever to access. Making it feel even more holy.

 

In his seminal work “The Sabbath”, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel writes about the holiness of time verses the holiness of space. To paraphrase: “Judaism teaches us to be attached to holiness in time, to be attached to sacred events, to learn how to consecrate sanctuaries that emerge from the magnificent stream of a year… According to the ancient rabbis, it is not the observance of the Day of Atonement, but the Day itself, the ‘essence of the Day,’ which, with a person’s repentance, atones for the sins of the person.”

 

Seen in this light, if we are feeling lost by being outside the synagogue, it is because we see the holiness of Judaism in our spaces. We feel something is wrong. We feel something is missing. But, if, especially this year, we follow Heschel and see Judaism as creating holiness in time, it still feels different, but we can experience an ever-deeper level of holiness than if we were focused on the space of our sanctuary.

 

Again, to paraphrase Heschel: “Judaism is a religion of time aiming at the sanctification of time. Unlike space-minded people to whom time is unvaried, iterative, homogenous, to whom all hours are alike, qualitiless, empty shells, the Bible senses the diversified character of time. There are no two hours alike. Every hour is unique and the only one given at the moment, exclusive and endlessly precious.”

 

This year, let us focus on this blessing we have been given to move from a focus on sacred space, to a focus on sacred time and transform these High Holy Days into the holiest, most sacred Holy Days we have ever known.

Shanah Tovah

Tuesday, April 7, 2020

My Commentary for the World Union For Progressive Judaism on Pesach


Pesach 5780 for WUPJ
Rabbi Harry Rosenfeld
Congregation Albert, Albuquerque, NM USA

Perhaps, this year, the question we should be asking at Seder is:

מה נשתנה הפסח הזה    Ma nishtanah haPesach hazeh? – Why is this Pesach different from all other Pesachs?

With the COVID-19 pandemic there are some obvious answers. 

  • Going out to buy Pesadik foods will give us pause. Some will go and shop. Some will have others shop for them. Others will shop online.

  • Many families separated by distance can, for the first time, share Seder online.

  • For the first time, families separated by distance can share Seder online.

  • During Yizkor we will also remember those who died from this plague.

But there are other answers as well. Torah teaches us that if someone is in a state of ritual impurity s/he can bring the Pesach sacrifice on Pesach Sheini (a second Pesach) - 14th of Iyar. Perhaps then we can wait to celebrate Pesach and move our Seders to Thursday evening May 7th, the 29th day of the Omer. But if the plague hasn’t abated would we need a Pesach Shlishi (third Pesach) or even a Pesach Rvi’i (fourth Pesach).

I am going to take a different path this year and follow an example of our ancestors. My household will have Seder on 14 Nisan as we do every year and “keeping Passover” for the proscribed week. Then we are going to follow the example of our mystic tradition and have Lag B’Omer style celebration. (Click here for information about Lag B’Omer) This celebration may not fall on the actual date for Lag B’Omer, tMonday night May 11. But, as soon as we are freed from our self-isolation, we should have a grand celebration. Picnics, campfires, singing, and Israeli Dancing.

Yes, we will mourn those who died from COVID-19. We will also celebrate those who heal and survive. We will remember the lessons we learned. Lessons on how to handle a future challenge like the one we face now, and lessons on how to transform our traditional synagogues into the synagogues of the future.

Pesach Resources and Virtual Sedars

Dear Friends,

I titled my Pesach column for the World Union For Progressive Judaism (WUPJ): Why is this Pesach different from all other Pesachs? While every Pesach is different, in the midst of this pandemic, we find ourselves physically distanced from our families of origin and our families of choice.

Most of us here in The Land of Enchantment understand being distant from friends and family. For some of us, and the vast majority of our children, the only Judaism we have known has been here in Albuquerque and, in particular at Congregation Albert.

Instead of looking at our isolation as a plague, perhaps for these first nights of Pesach, our forced isolation can be a blessing. We have the opportunity to connect online with family, friends and strangers around the world.

Below you will find resources to use with your own personal seders, as well as opportunities to experience Pesach in the many places Jews live.

Be creative. Use these resources or find your own.

I will be leading a brief Pesach evening service at 5:00 on Facebook Live on Wednesday evening

As we read in Torah and in the Haggadah, “My father was a wandering Aramean.” Let us wander together to wondrous places for Pesach.

Chag Samei’ach

Rabbi Harry Rosenfeld

Cantor Finn and I were honored to participate in the: The Middle Matzah Haggadah: A Digital Telling for a Time of Brokenness. Dozens of Rabbis, Cantors, and lay people from across the country and Israel collaborated in creating this unique online Haggadah. You can use it with your own Seder or just watch it during the holiday. Just click here: https://youtu.be/GvEECSy0tRA.

Here are more resources for you. Just click on the titles to follow the links

Union for Reform Judaism

Alma
For those who want some in depth learning about Pesach:

From the American Jewish Committee

From WUPJ, Seders around the world. Contact each synagogue/organization for times.

St. Thomas, U.S. Virgin Islands
St. Thomas Synagogue, Charlotte Amalie https://zoom.us/j/263565592

Australia
The Union for Progressive Judaism has a special page that lists online services, Passover seders, and classes using online meeting platforms.

Japan
Jewish Community of Tokyo www.jccjapan.or.jp

Shanghai
Kehilat Shanghai www.kehilatshanghai.org

Belarus
Beit Shimcha: Simcha, Sheket, www.facebook.com/grisha.abramovich 
and Tamar

Russia
Shaarei Shalom, St. Petersburg Zoom Meeting

Ukraine
Shirat ha-Yam, Odessa Zoom Meeting

Israel 
The Israel Movement for Reform and Progressive Judaism has created this Hebrew resource page with information, educational links, and more. 

Brazil
Congregação Israelita Paulista Sao Paulo www.cip.org.br/aovivo/

South Africa 
Johannesburg
Beit Emanuel Progressive Synagogue Zoom Meeting
Beit Luria Progressive Shul Zoom Meeting