All that We are Called to Be
Exactly two years ago, according to the reckoning of the Hebrew calendar, that is, I preached a sermon on the ‘new coronavirus’ that had put a Chinese city, Wuhan, into lockdown.
Exactly two years ago, according to the reckoning of the Hebrew calendar, that is, I preached a sermon on the ‘new coronavirus’ that had put a Chinese city, Wuhan, into lockdown.
This year, Thanksgiving and Hanukkah are almost back-to-back. The last time there was a complete overlap was during the ‘Thanksgivvukah’ of 2013; the next time this will happen is in the year 79,811.
I propose we look at God’s relationship with humans in the Torah as a model for intimate relationships between humans.
Thousands of miles away from our immediate, local concern, is a country and a region in crisis; in the grips of renewed violence where the horrific count of casualties is rising relentlessly.
Never was their a more odd pairing of Torah portions than Behar-Bechukotai.
When I scout out the Torah portion for the week, I must admit that I quietly profess faith that the Parashah will render unto me some deeper insight that meets the moment.
Contrary to popular opinion, I’m rather a fan of the Torah’s bête noire middle child.
I was in my early twenties and visiting a friend in Groningen, a quaint historic city in the northernmost reaches of the Netherlands.
The images are such stark ones that they have become a staple of our culture. The Golden Calf, the shattered tablets, a people oscillating between orgies of elation and crises of despair.