I dedicate this d'var Torah to the Little Minyan, which began 30 years ago, at the initiative of Eileen Silver and Ellen Kachuk Rosenbluth.
As with the scouts exploring the Land of Israel, the Little Minyan was born as an act of exploration.
עֲלוּ זֶה בַּנֶּגֶב, וַעֲלִיתֶם, אֶת-הָהָר יח וּרְאִיתֶם אֶת-הָאָרֶץ
Go up to see the land..
וּמָ֣ה הָאָ֗רֶץ אֲשֶׁר־הוּא֙ יֹשֵׁ֣ב בָּ֔הּ הֲטוֹבָ֥ה הִ֖וא אִם־רָעָ֑ה
Is the land good or bad?
וּמָ֣ה הָ֠אָ֠רֶץ הַשְּׁמֵנָ֨ה הִ֜וא אִם־רָזָ֗ה
Is the land rich or poor?
Is it better to continue down a well-worn path or to head into the unknown? In his new book, The Explorer’s Gene, Alex Hutchinson indicates that the search for the unknown is an essential ingredient of human life. Whether paddling in the Canadian wilderness or searching for next-generation computers, he suggests that our lives are more productive, more meaningful, and more fun when we break our habits and chart a new path. But exploration is high risk and often leads to failure.
Just as the people of Israel feared proceeding into the Land of Promise, the Little Minyan generated significant opposition from leaders of our kehillah who felt that it would draw people away from the Sanctuary service.
The failure of nerve in the Wilderness and the collapse of the project of aliyah led to 40 years of Wilderness wandering. Yet subsequent to the decree that the short-term Wilderness trek to the Land of Promise will become a 40-year sojourn, our parashah preserves two mitzvot that offer a hopeful future.
…כִּ֣י תָבֹ֗אוּ אֶל־אֶ֙רֶץ֙ מוֹשְׁבֹ֣תֵיכֶ֔ם אֲשֶׁ֥ר אֲנִ֖י נֹתֵ֥ן לָכֶֽם׃
When you will come to the land of your dwelling, which I am giving you..
and
בְּבֹֽאֲכֶם֙ אֶל־הָאָ֔רֶץ אֲשֶׁ֥ר אֲנִ֛י מֵבִ֥יא אֶתְכֶ֖ם שָֽׁמָּה׃
When you will come into the Land that I shall give you
Despite the original debate, over the years, the Little Minyan has become an asset and an essential aspect of the Beth Tzedec synaplex. It has been led by many fine volunteers and given guidance by a series of rabbis and spiritual leaders.
To use another image and metaphor from the parashah, the tallit of Beth Tzedec has been made more beautiful by the tekhelet of tzitzit represented by this minyan.
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Let me shift a bit to inyanei d’yoma, matters of the day….
During these past 10 days of intense Israel-Iran conflict, our initial amazement and pride has also seen fear and concern, anxiety and anger, and heaviness of spirit. “The war with Iran has had a broad and devastating impact across the Israeli homefront. Iranian missiles have flattened buildings in Tel Aviv, Haifa, Beer Sheva and beyond. Normal life in Israel has ground to a halt, with schools, non-essential workplaces, synagogues and public gatherings on pause.“ (Israel Policy Forum newsletter)
Take note: Muslims are not permitted to go to Al Akhsa. Christians may not go to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. If you read complaints about Israeli policy regarding Christian or Muslim access to their sacred sites, encourage people to take a look at the web camera of the Kotel. The plaza is also bereft of Jewish worshippers.
Facing the rocket attacks, after sleepless nights with awareness of the nearest shelter, Israelis function with resilience in the face of adversity and uncertainty. This duality is reflected in two essays:
Emmanuel Levinas asks whether the Land of Israel is promised or permitted. Avi Ravitzky discusses Eretz Yisrael as both desired and dreaded.
My grandson called to share two jokes with me:
When we woke up early on Thursday with sirens, we said, “Good Warning!”
When we came out of the sheltered miklat the other day, we said, “It’s after-boom.”
Following the report by the 10-person commission to explore the Land of Promise, the people panicked. In the Wilderness, the people of Israel lacked emunah, trusting faith in God. Rabbi Lara has written about the importance of facing fear with faith. Emunah, faith, is both an act of will and an attitude of hope.
You are familiar with Psalm 27 which we recite during the month of Elul. It concludes:
קַוֵּ֗ה אֶל־ה’ חֲ֭זַק וְיַאֲמֵ֣ץ לִבֶּ֑ךָ וְ֝קַוֵּ֗ה אֶל־ה
Wait, Hope for the Eternal: be strong of heart and wait, hope for the Eternal.
The word קַוֵּ֗ה comes from the same root as תקוה. Hope. The stem of תקוה is the same root as the word מקוה, a pool of water for ritual renewal. Hope is renewing. The rabbis identify God as מקוה ישראל. Hope is spiritual strength. The first agricultural school in Israel was called מקוה ישראל. Hope is what we build and construct with others.
תקוה also means “a stretched out cord or rope.” So קַוֵּ֗ה is “the tension of enduring or waiting” and can be translated as “Wait”. That stretched-out cord is a synecdoche for hope. Hope waits, tense, but doesn’t break. Hope is a rope. As Jews, we have a rope of hope that can hold and support us during times of challenge.
Throughout Jewish history, despite times of loss and despair, Jews sought what the French historian, Pierre Birnbaum, called a “geography of hope”. Yosef Hayyim Yerushalmi argued that Jews fostered “interim Jewish hopes” to sustain us. Our liturgy and ritual were “sources and salves” for continued resilience.
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks notes that hope is neither naïve optimism nor false certainty.
Optimism is the belief that things will get better. Hope is the belief that, together, we can make things better. Optimism is a passive virtue, hope an active one. It takes no courage to be an optimist, but it takes a great deal of courage to have hope.
Years ago, I was in shul when the then-President of the State of Israel, Chaim Herzog, was called to chant haftarah. It was on Pesah, when the words of the prophet Ezekiel are read:
“O mortal, these bones are the whole House of Israel.
They say, ‘יָבְשׁ֧וּ עַצְמוֹתֵ֛ינוּ וְאָבְדָ֥ה תִקְוָתֵ֖נוּ,
Our bones are dried up, our hope is lost; we are doomed.’
Our hope is lost. אָבְדָ֥ה תִקְוָתֵ֖נוּ.
But Ezekiel continued:
Prophesy, therefore, and say to them…
I am going to open your graves and lift you out of the graves, O My people, and bring you to the land of Israel. I will put My breath into you and you shall live again, and I will set you upon your own soil.
In 1878, Naftali Herz Imber composed a poem that became a song. He reversed the words of Ezekiel to say — עוֹד לֹא אָבְדָה תִּקְוָתֵנו, Our hope is not lost.
Hope drove our people to rise from the ashes of the Holocaust. We did not wait to see what the future would bring; we created a future for ourselves.
The Hamas attack of October 7 undermined an accepted perspective that Israel was secure and that the IDF would deter its enemies. Imagine what would have happened had Iran and Hizbollah attacked on October 8. As challenging as the situation is now, Israel and all of us would have been in a far more difficult situation.
Instead, since October 8, the Israel Defence Force has sought to reestablish security, reassert the capacity of the army to defend and deter enemies and has renewed a breeze of hope for the future of Israel. It has explored high risk military and Mossad options with stunning success.
We have to ensure that Canadian leaders and western allies understand that Iran's use of proxies against Israel, assassination attempts in Europe and Argentina, and efforts to destabilize elections, are a deep danger to our country. With nuclear arms, who knows what Iran would have attempted to do. Israel’s actions deserve international support.
In our own lives, by focusing on our limited capacity for personal peace and moments of joy, we can foster “interim hopes”. Breathing, walking, time with trusted friends. If blessed, special moments with family. We may not be able to resolve the bigger challenges, but we can create our own “geography of hope.”
Last year, at the shivah for Hersh Polin-Goldberg, with the quiet dignity that he and Rachel brought to their all efforts to save their son, Jon Polin said to me: “We have lost our son, but we will not lose our hope.” It takes courage to hope. But we have the spiritual resources in our Torah tradition in our community and Israel is blessed with amazing military and security forces. These will strengthen us for the days ahead.
קַוֵּ֗ה אֶל־ה’ חֲ֭זַק וְיַאֲמֵ֣ץ לִבֶּ֑ךָ וְ֝קַוֵּ֗ה אֶל־ה’׃
Wait, Hope for the Eternal: be strong of heart and wait, hope for the Eternal. Hold onto the rope and hope.
עֲל֥וּ …וּרְאִיתֶ֥ם אֶת־הָאָ֖רֶץ
