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Rabbi's Message

05/06/2022 05:59:00 PM

May6

Dear Chevre,

It often feels as if the world in on fire. The climate crisis worsens, reproductive rights are at risk, there is violence in Israel, the war in Ukraine lingers on. We need to face these crises head on with our words, actions and resources.

We also need to rest: turn off the news, spend uninterrupted time with friends, family and community.

Enter Shabbat. Light the Shabbos candles. Enjoy some food. Slow down. If you can, come to KHN this evening at 7:00 pm, followed by an inspiring presentation by BCICRR, learning about how our local communities are welcoming refugees. Or come tomorrow morning at 10:00 am for Shabbat Zimra. If you can’t come in person, come virtually.

Let the ancient Hebrew words and beautiful melodies wash over you like the rains we are experiencing in the Delaware Valley. Or, if you know the language, pay attention to the beauty of the psalms of Kabbalat Shabbat and the Torah we will read tomorrow morning as we explore what holiness is with Parashat Kedoshim. Whatever you do, know that you don’t have to--cannot--do it all. It’s time to exhale and invite in the Shabbat Queen.

I leave you with a poem written by Rabbi Pamela Wax, who recently offered an evocative poetry workshop at KHN.

Elegy for the Lady on Liberty Island

A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles.

                                    — Emma Lazarus, “The New Colossus”

 
Curse that raised torch, quivering lips, the broken chain 
and shackles as good as whole at her feet, girding 
her womb. She wears the blue patina of sorrow, pregnant 
with dreams of home across the sea, parlez-vous?
and nowhere to go but a back alley in Queens, women 
crossing borders from Ohio and Missouri, frenzied escape 
from a fate that biology conferred. Hope scrambles 
for a foothold on slippery benches of high courts, 
while she extends her arm to the sky. Damn the pedestal 
on which she stands—ironic welcome to foreigners 
who come now by foot or air, rarely by sea, and a virgin/
whore two-punch to those who hold up half the sky. Damn 
the sonnet that Emma wrote that raised the funds 
that raised that pedestal on which she stands, branding 
her Mother. She would suckle all comers who want to breathe 
free, but instead coughs and gasps, herself bound by symbolic 
satire. Let’s raise Cain and eyebrows, unplucked, 
bushy, link arms, chant: This is what it looks like,
kindle the torch until we are hoarse, until she is no lady.

Shabbat shalom,

Rabbi Diana

Zoom for Shabbat this evening at 7:00 pm:

Kabbalat Shabbat

Zoom for Shabbat Zimra tomorrow morning at 10:00 am:

Shabbat Zimra

 

Fri, March 29 2024 19 Adar II 5784