Are We Too Busy to Remember Our Loved Ones on Their Yahrzeits?

Parashat Vayetzei Email d’var Torah
Rabbi Aaron Starr

Sometimes I choose my words very—shall we say—diplomatically. This is not one of those times: I am often disappointed on Shabbat or at a daily minyan that, upon hearing the names of the deceased on our shiva, sheloshim, or Yahrzeit lists, so few people attend services to pause in memory, praise and thanksgiving for family who have left the physical world. Thankfully, there is a group of regular minyan-attendees who ensure that these names may be read every day and, as such, we as a community are able to remember. But have we really become so busy as a society that to come to shul three times (evening, morning, evening) in a row one day out of the year (for each loved one) is too onerous?

In our Torah portion this week, Vayetzei, Jacob—in fear for his life after co-opting the birthright from Esau—leaves Beersheva for his mother’s hometown of Charan. There he meets his Uncle Laban, with whom he would spend twenty years, and ultimately marry Laban’s daughters Leah and Rachel. Upon leaving Beersheva we read, “[Jacob] came upon a certain place and stopped there for the night” (Gen. 28:11). Seizing upon the Hebrew word makom (“place”), a rabbinic euphemism for God, our rabbis read this verse as “[Jacob] encountered God that evening.” Midrash Rabbah comes to tell us, then, that our patriarchs instituted the concept of three daily prayers: Abraham shacharit (morning); Isaac mincha (afternoon); and here in our Torah portion, Jacob instituted maariv, the evening prayer service, when he encountered God at night. At each of the transitional periods of the day we give thanks to God for the blessings in our life—those that that occur regularly and naturally, and those that are special and unique to us.

Just last week, on Thanksgiving Day, many of us gave thanks for the incredible blessings in our lives. And if or when asked, most of us probably listed “family” among those blessings for which we are most thankful. It is imperative to give thanks on Thanksgiving, but let us remember to give thanks much more frequently while our loved ones are alive (in their presence!), and let us remember to pause in memory, offering the kaddish’s words of thanksgiving and praise once our family members have left the physical world as well. If you are unsure of your spouse’s/parent’s/child’s Yahrzeit, please give us a call; we’ll be happy to give you the English date for this year. Then, just as Jacob did thousands of years ago, please plan to “encounter God” and say kaddish at our evening services—and morning and afternoon as well.

Rebecca, Caleb and Ayal join me with prayers for a Shabbat shalom umivorach.

Kosher in Detroit

Kosher in Detroit
Kosher Options in Metro Detroit (with thanks to koshermichigan.com)

Bagel Factory Cafe & Eskimo Jack Cookies (KM, Dairy)
24551 W. 12 Mile Road
Southfield, MI 48034
Tel:248-352-5695

Bake Station Bakery (Vaad Detroit, Pareve)
30760 Southfield Rd.
Southfield, MI 48076
Tel:248-723-9000

Dunkin Donuts / Baskin Robbins (Vaad Detroit, Dairy)
25170 Greenfield Rd
Oak Park, MI
Tel:248-967-6288

Inn Season Cafe (KM, Dairy)
500 East 4th Street
Royal Oak, MI
Tel: 248-547-7916

Jerusalem Pizza (Vaad Detroit, Dairy)
26025 Greenfield Rd / Southfield, MI 48076
6600 W. Maple Rd / W. Bloomfield, MI 48332
Tel: 248-552-0088

Jerusalem Sub (Vaad Detroit, Meat)
26055 Greenfield Rd
Southfield, MI 48076

One Stop Kosher Market (Vaad Detroit, Grocery)
25155 Greenfield Rd
Southfield, MI 48075
Tel: 248-569-5000

Mike's Gourmet Burgers (Vaad Detroit, Meat)
15280 Lincoln St,
Oak Park, MI 48237
Tel: 248-967-5445

Sara's Deli (Vaad Detroit, Meat)
15110 W Ten Mile Road
Oak Park, Michigan
Tel: 248-432-5615

Udipi Indian Restaurant (KM, Vegetarian; Dairy)
29210 Orchard Lake Road
Farmington Hills, MI 48334
Tel: 248-626-6021

Unique Kosher Catering & Carryout (Vaad, Meat)
25270 Greenfield Road
Oak Park, MI 48237
Tel: 248-967-1161

Zeman's New York Bakery (Vaad, Pareve)
25258 Greenfield Rd.
Oak Park, Michigan
Tel: 248-967-3905

10th Anniversary of 9/11 Parashat Ki Tetzei

This is our generation’s “Kenney Assassination,” I heard one friend say in reference to the tragedy that was 9/11. Of course what he meant was, like our parents who so vividly recall exactly what they were doing on November 22, 1963, we will remember the unfolding of events on September 11, 2001. For me, a student then in rabbinical school, we finished with minyan and walked into our classroom. There sat one of our fellow students who had run a bit late that morning and, as a result, had heard about the first plane that struck the World Trade Center. He filled us all in; at the time, we assumed it was just a freak accident. Our professor, looking to begin class, gathered us all together and lamented, “We will do now what Jews do whenever tragedy strikes—we will study Torah.” Not a few minutes passed when the dean of our school came into our classroom. “A second plane has struck the Trade Center,” he informed us. “The FBI has called and warned that we too might be a potential target for terrorism. This campus must be evacuated immediately.” Little did we know at the time, but a true tragedy was unfolding—a tragedy that we will commemorate this Sunday on the 10th anniversary of 9/11.

Unfortunately, my friend was only partially correct. I do remember vividly the unfolding of events on 9/11—where I was; where Rebecca was; how we, our community, and our nation responded the rest of the day. But, in a similar way, I also remember where I was when the space shuttles Challenger, holding school teacher Christa McAuliffe and Columbia, with the first Israeli astronaut Ilan Ramon, came to their fiery end. L’havdil elef havdallot (On quite the opposite extreme other end), I also remember the exact sequence of events on May 13, 2007 and June 3, 2010—the days my two boys were born. Whatever the dates—whether they be tragic: Kristalnacht; Pearl Harbor; Kennedy (John); Kennedy (Bobby); MLK; September 11; or joyful—weddings, the births of our children, a loved one’s return from war or the birth of Israel—we human beings are cursed and blessed with the gift of memory.

Our Torah portion this week, Parashat Ki Tetzei, ends with an interesting and seemingly contradictory set of commandments. “Zachor—Remember what Amalek did to you on your journey, after you left Egypt—how undeterred by the fear of God, he surprised you on the march, when you were famished and weary, and cut down all the stragglers in your rear…you shall blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven. Do not forget” (Deut. 25:17-18). On one hand we are supposed to blot out the memory, but on the other hand we are supposed to never forget!
There are a variety of ways to fulfill this seemingly contradictory set of commandments. For example, the Talmud references these verses as the source for the custom on Purim of drowning out Haman’s name—Haman being a descendant of Amalek. Additionally, before a sofer (scribe) writes a sefer Torah, he writes Amalek’s name on a separate sheet of parchment and then literally scratches the name out. For us, perhaps, we are required to memorialize with prayer and lamentations the tragedies that have occurred in our lifetime and in the life of our people while, additionally, reminding ourselves and teaching our children to work tirelessly to eradicate evil from this world. God has granted us the blessing and the curse of memory, but He has also given us the strength and wisdom to work toward peace and justice.

Please join us this weekend in commemorating the 10th anniversary of 9/11. Religious School students and their parents will have a brief ceremony at 10am on Sunday, followed by a community-building lunch open to all Hillel and Religious School families. At 7pm on Sunday, our great synagogue will host a Southfield-community commemoration led by Rabbi Krakoff. I will look forward to seeing you at one or all of these opportunities to remember, and to derive inspiration to continue to work to “blot out” evil from our midst.

Rebecca, Caleb and Ayal join me in wishing you not only Shabbat shalom (a Sabbath of peace), but in offering prayers for Olam Shalom (a world of peace).

Parashat Acharei Mot

Growing up in Troy as a Jew, I always knew I was “different” from everyone else. But it was not really until Pesach, I think, that everyone else realized it too. Perhaps that was because for an entire week of school—while everyone else enjoyed their white bread sandwiches and Twinkies (it was Troy, after all)—I crunched away on my matzoh and enjoyed a homemade, thick-as-a-brick brownie. My mother always made sure to pack extra matzoh too because my friends all wanted to have some of that “funny looking cracker!” As grade school gave way to college, I still had to keep extra matzoh around. My neighbor in the dormitory thought matzoh pizza was the best food in the world. Every evening during Passover at dinnertime, like clockwork, she would drop by and ask for matzoh pizza. I always obliged but, to this day, I find it entirely fascinating: for an entire week Jews complain about eating matzoh and for an entire week our non-Jewish friends can’t wait to eat it! With obligation, comes a difference.
This week before Passover, on Shabbat HaGadol (the Great Sabbath), we read from our Torah Parashat Acharei Mot. God instructs our ancestors through Moses, “I am the LORD your God. After the doings of the land of Egypt where you dwelt shall you not do; and after the doings of the land of Canaan, where I bring you, shall you not do; nor shall you walk in their ordinances. You shall do my judgments, and keep my ordinances, to walk with them; I am the Lord your God. You shall therefore keep my statutes and my judgments which, if a person does, he shall live in them; I am The LORD” (Leviticus 18:1-5). The Jewish legal midrashic collection Sifra explains “my judgments” refers to laws that should have been written if the Torah had not done so: those about robbery, incest, idolatry, cursing God, or bloodshed.” The statement “My ordinances” refers to “the laws contested by man’s evil inclination and by idolaters—such as the ban on eating pork, the mixing of wool and linen in clothing, the release of a childless widow from needing to marry her brother-in-law, the purification of the leper, the red heifer, the he-goat sent into the wilderness on Yom Kippur. Hence the Torah states, ‘I am Adonai’—and I have decreed them, do not question them.” In other words, God has given us laws that “make sense” and those that make “less” sense. Many of these laws, our rabbis teach us, are there simply to make us feel different—separate—from our non-Jewish neighbors.
For many of us, Passover is that time we feel most different: whether it is bringing matzoh for lunch to work, cleaning our homes top to bottom, being even more stringent in the food we purchase, or creating elaborate, engaging Jewish experiences for our families during the seder. “Different” is sometimes difficult, complicated, bewildering and, for children, frustrating. But “different” can also be a blessing: “With a mighty hand and an outstretched arm” God did redeem us from slavery that we might serve Him, “for God’s love endures forever” (Psalm 136:12).

Rebecca, Caleb, and Ayal join me in wishing you Shabbat shalom and chag Pesach kasher v’sameach.

Rabbi Aaron L. Starr
Director of Education & Youth
rabbistarr@shaareyzedek.org

Follow Rabbi Starr on Twitter! @rabbistarr

The Power of Symbols: Parashat Tetzaveh

I am not a jewelry guy. So, when Rebecca and I married, I remember constantly being aware that I had a ring on my finger. I played with it. I took it on and off. I twisted it around and around. In fact, despite it being well-fitted, when we went snorkeling on our honeymoon, I actually swam with the fingers of my left hand holding onto the ring so it would not fall off!! Have no fear: the same ring adorns my finger today and is not, luckily, at the bottom of the Caribbean. And, while at first it “bothered” me to wear a piece of metal on my finger at all times, I quickly grew to like this new, constant reminder of the sanctification of Rebecca’s and my relationship. Physical reminders are powerful tools.
In this week’s Torah portion, Tetzaveh, the High Priest is commanded to wear a tzitz, a plate of pure gold upon his forehead with the words kodesh l’Adonai on it: Holy to the LORD. “It shall be on Aaron’s forehead, that Aaron may take away any sin arising from the holy things that the Israelites consecrate … it shall be on his forehead at all times, to win acceptance for them before the LORD” (Ex. 28:38). This plate affixed to Aaron’s headdress assured that his thoughts were at all times focused on his role and function in the community. He was reminded to be holy to the LORD. This plate functioned in a very similar way to the tefillin of both ancient and modern times. By wearing the tefillin boxes we are reminded every weekday morning of God’s oneness (the shema is written inside) and by wrapping the tefillin straps we are reminded that we are bound to God’s commandments. Physical reminders are powerful tools.
But sometimes physical reminders need to be recharged—or readjusted—to better serve their purpose. Over time, I grew accustomed to wearing a wedding ring. It no longer was—at least not with the intensity of those first days—a daily reminder of our marriage. Then I stumbled upon an interesting idea from Rabbi Arthur Waskow. As part of the traditional Friday night dinner rituals, one removes his/her ring before making the blessing over washing one’s hands. Rabbi Waskow wrote of a beautiful ritual that, each week, instead of placing their rings back on their own fingers, Rabbi Waskow and his wife would help each other place the ring on the other’s finger—in this way re-enacting the ceremony from their wedding. For several years now Rebecca and I have been engaging in this practice every Friday night and it has come to serve as a renewal of the power of the wedding ring as a symbol and reminder of our marriage. In the same way that my tefillin and tallit are a daily reminder of my relationship with God, the wedding ring remains after so many years a beautiful reminder of my relationship with my wife. Physical reminders are powerful tools and must be renewed periodically to continue to serve their purpose.

This Shabbat of Parashat Tetzaveh, what is one physical reminder you might employ to remind you of your relationship and obligations:
* To God?
* To the Jewish people?
* To your wife and family?
* To making this world a better place?

Rebecca, Caleb, and Ayal join me in wishing you Shabbat shalom um’vorach: a peaceful and blessed Sabbath.