January 31, 2025

I was asked earlier this week if I would stop wearing my “Bring Them Home Now” dog tag necklace when all the hostages returned home. I responded that I would gladly take it off tomorrow if they were all home. Each week, we wait with bated breath for the announcement of which hostages will be released. As family, we are overcome with joy for those who get to embrace their loved ones. And, as family, we are pained by the weight of the sorrow of those who still await the return of their lands. Just yesterday we welcomed home Agam, Arbel, and Gadi, along with five Thai workers who have been held hostage. We anticipate the return of more hostages tomorrow (at the time of this writing, the names of them have not yet been released). We anxiously await the return of the Bibas family, with 5-year-old Ariel, and now 2-year-old Kfir (he was 9 months old on October 7 when he was taken hostage.) The images of the young women surrounded by Hamas terrorists are striking images. The four young Israeli women soldiers standing up in the face of their captors, waving, and not allowing themselves to feel inferior reflects their strength.

Earlier this week, I came across this poem by Rachel Srulovitz, originally written in Hebrew.

There are mothers

Who birthed their daughters twice

The first time

They arrived from the Garden of Eden

The second time

From Hell

Then as today

They waited to hear the crying

That says it’s okay now

To breathe.

These words demonstrate the similarities between two moments of arrival, both accompanied with tears and a desire to breath. A first time from joy; a second time from pain. These words speak to the varied emotions hostage families and the entire Jewish people have been feeling for many months. We all know the pain, and at the same time, we can’t know the pain. We will continue this emotional roller coaster for weeks. As we await the return of the remaining hostages and each time they come home, we say Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech HaOlam, matir asurim. Blessed are You, Eternal One, who frees the captives.

After this weekend, I will be away on a month-long sabbatical. I will return to the office at the beginning of March. Each year, I am grateful for this time to study and be with my family. This year, I enter this time struck by seemingly existential questions about Judaism and Jewish life. I am reflecting on the animating forces of fear and pride, power and powerlessness, anxiety and hope. There have been many texts written in the last two years that reflect on these themes and what it means to be Jewish at this moment in history and how we navigate the world moving forward. I am hoping to take all that I learn and think about what it means for us at Beth Tikvah and how we might reflect on these themes as a community. I am also eager to continue to think about how we can find the best ways to respond to the needs of our community based on reflection from these scholars.

As we navigate this very challenging moment in the world, I hope that we can continue to come together to learn, celebrate, pray, and support one another.

Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi Rick Kellner

January 24, 2025

Last Sunday, I sat with great anticipation as the news and images began to unfold about the release of Romi, Emily, and Doron, the first three Israeli hostages to be freed in this initial stage of the current hostage agreement and ceasefire. We are anxiously awaiting the release of four additional hostages tomorrow. All of us felt an incredible mix of emotions as we watched the three women leave the van, surrounded by a sea of Hamas terrorists. In contrast, the videos of these young women reuniting with their mothers brought me to tears. In those embraces, we felt the particularity of these emotions as our people were freed and the universal emotions reflected in the love between a parent and a child. We wait through these long days between releases of hostages with such pain and anguish, wondering who will be released next.

What is so incredible is how the hostage families are all responding. The families of those still waiting to see their loved ones are overjoyed and celebrating, even though they are still in pain. They are navigating this complex dance between the joy of the collective and the recognition of their individual needs. As we bear witness to their pain over the last 476 days, we continue to embrace these families who have been through so much, standing in awe of their resilience and their support for one another.

All this is happening as we begin reading the Book of Exodus. Having descended to Egypt—a place that was not always terrible—the new Pharaoh arises, overcome with fear as he sees the Israelites as too numerous and worries they will join other nations and rise up against the Egyptians. Mijal Bitton, a modern scholar, writes that Pharaoh is not just a ruler but a symbol of dehumanizing power. He uses his power to enslave the Israelites and order the death of all male children. As we read the Book of Exodus in the coming weeks and retell the story around our seder tables, we are reminded of the pain of being othered. For this reason, as we set forth on our journey, God reminds us to care for the stranger because we know the heart of the stranger, having been strangers in the land of Egypt. God does not stop there, also teaching us to care for the orphan and the widow.

In modern times, we know the root causes of our pain often stem from being othered, whether by Hamas terrorists in Israel, antisemites in America, or elsewhere around the world. The power of othering has been used in every generation to marginalize and oppress groups of people. In ancient times, the orphan, widow, and stranger were among those marginalized and othered. Rabbi Shmuly Yanklowitz, an Orthodox Jewish leader and founder of the Valley Beit Midrash in Phoenix, AZ, explains: “God instructs us that to be religious people, the marginalized—rather than the elite—have to be our priority. To be faithful is to orient our lives around the needs of the most vulnerable. The stranger, widow, and orphan can be understood conceptually. The mitzvot that are articulated with reference to widows, orphans, and strangers apply to all those who are marginalized, alienated, oppressed, and suffering.” (Commentary on the Book of Proverbs)

For far too many years, immigrants and the LGBTQ+ community have been marginalized. Other minorities have also been harmed. The Book of Exodus reminds us that even though we have been marginalized as individuals, the experience is meant to teach us, throughout generations, to strengthen our own identity and community while also seeing every soul as a human being. This is why we stand up for our own needs as victims of antisemitism, while also caring for the LGBTQ+ community, immigrant communities, and other minorities—because we know the heart of those who have been marginalized.

As we spend this weekend exploring antisemitism in America with Pamela Nadell, our Resler Scholar-in-Residence, and as we continue navigating our way through the verses of Exodus, we will dive into the historical lessons offered to us about power, othering, and the vulnerable in our community. We hope you will join us for a powerful weekend of learning.

Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi Rick Kellner

January 17, 2025

A profound moment in the Torah occurs this week when we read that the cry of the Israelites enslaved in Egypt (Mitzrayim) reached up to God, and God heard their cries and took note of them. Much later, the psalmist writes that we called from the narrow place (hameitzar) and God answered us. We note that the word for narrow and the word for Egypt come for the same root. The root tzar means bitterness. Our existence in Egypt was constricted and bitter, and when we emerged from bondage to freedom, we carried the wounds with us for millennia. The story still pervades and shapes our identities. When I traveled to Israel in May, Hostage Square had an art display of a Gazan tunnel. It was narrow and tight, dark and constricted. Walking through the tunnel for a mere thirty seconds was nothing compared to what the hostages have endured these last 469 days.

When I learned the news that a hostage deal had been reached this week, I was overwhelmed with mixed emotions. Since October 7, 2023, our hearts and prayers have focused on the return of the hostages as we mourn the loss of so many victims. We have felt the pain of those uprooted from their homes in the Western Negev along the Gaza border, and in the north. Our thoughts are with those serving in the IDF, tirelessly fighting and working to ensure Israel’s security and right to exist, and with their spouses, who have cared for children during their prolonged absences. The wounds of IDF soldiers still recovering and the grief of families who have lost loved ones in this war weigh heavily. In these fragile moments of gratitude blended with sorrow, the hardships faced by countless Israelis—running to bomb shelters, losing jobs, and enduring immense stress—are undeniable. While some families will experience the joy of reuniting with loved ones, the journey of healing lies ahead for many. Others will bear the unbearable pain of learning their loved ones will not come home alive.

With this agreement, those who live in Gaza can begin to heal and return to their lives. The deal calls for increased aid that is so desperately needed. There is hope that they can begin to rebuild their lives with new leadership in Gaza and we hope that Hamas will not be able to rebuild and will cease to have governing control of the area.

God has heard the cry of the suffering. And now it is our prayer that the leaders will do all they can to uphold the terms of this deal. As Shabbat begins in the world, our hearts are filled with great anticipation that when we extinguish the Havdalah candle and the new week begins, the first joyful embraces will take place.

May this Shabbat fill out hearts with great hope and anticipation. And may this Shabbat bring the enduring presence of peace.

Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi Rick Kellner

January 10, 2025

While traveling to LA last week, I had something interesting happen on the second leg of my flight heading there, and also on my return. As I was seated on the Southwest plane from Denver to LA, a young woman who was on the phone and moving a couple of heavy bags looked at me to see if the seat by the window was open. I nodded and then heard her speaking Hebrew. I then said to her, “Efshar la’azor lach? Can I help you?” I think the shock on her face hearing Hebrew in that moment was one of great surprise and also great comfort. After she sat down, we proceeded to have a brief conversation in Hebrew in which I asked about her family. Being in her early 20s, she had served in the reserves during the past year, and her family had been in bomb shelters all week, seeking shelter from Houthi missiles. Our conversation surely brought a brief moment of comfort and acceptance as she continued her journey back to LA to spend more time with her sister.

On my return from LA, also on the second leg, I sat on the aisle and a rather tall young man (6’9”) asked me if the seat by the window in my exit row was open. He spoke with an accent. I soon realized that the University of Wisconsin-Green Bay Men’s basketball team was traveling on our flight. The tall man turned to me and asked me about my necklace (as many of you know, I have been wearing a dog tag that says “Bring them Home” with a yellow ribbon for the hostages). The necklace was turned around, so I showed it to him. A look of comfort and connection appeared on his face. This basketball player was Israeli, from Hod Hasharon. We also spoke briefly in Hebrew. He told me he had just arrived to start his season and had been in the shelters last week. His name is Yonatan Levy. We chatted about him missing kosher food, especially schnitzel.

As I think about these two coincidental encounters, I am left to wonder how welcomed these two young people must have felt. They have lived in a country filled with war, and now, outside their homeland may not know who or what they could encounter as anti-Israel sentiments can bubble up at any moment.

Contrast these encounters with news out of Brazil last week when a young Israeli who had spent much time on active military duty as a reservist, had been investigated by the Brazilian government after the Hind Rajab Foundation sought to prosecute him for war crimes. This Pro-Palestinian NGO tracks Israeli movement around the world and then has sought to prosecute young Israelis for defending their country. Ultimately, with herculean efforts by the Israeli consulate, this young Israeli was freed and returned to Israel safely. In response, one can begin to question where in the world is it safe for young Israelis to travel?

Israel’s Declaration of Independence states, “The catastrophe which recently befell the Jewish people – the massacre of millions of Jews in Europe – was another clear demonstration of the urgency of solving the problem of its homelessness by re-establishing in Eretz-Israel the Jewish State, which would open the gates of the homeland wide to every Jew and confer upon the Jewish people the status of a fully privileged member of the comity of nations.”

This reflects the desire for Israel to be accepted just as any other member nation would be. And yet, over the years, there have been more resolutions condemning Israel by the United Nations than any other nation. How can Israelis be accepted anywhere if young soldiers, who travel the world after their service, have charges brought against them by foreign governments. After the antisemitic attacks in Amsterdam following the soccer match, we wondered the same question. Sadly, we don’t have any answers right now. Perhaps, then, it is part of our responsibility to ensure that Israelis, who live and work right here in our own backyard – Columbus, OH – are welcomed as part of the Jewish community and they know they have our support. It may also be necessary for us to continue efforts to ensure Israel and Israelis are safe and welcomed wherever they travel.

The journey ahead may be long, but as part of the Jewish people, we know kol Yisrael arevim zeh bazeh, all Israel is responsible for one another.

The above message was written prior to when the fires began to range in Los Angeles this week. Many of us have family or friends who live in the greater Los Angeles area and have been impacted by the fires, have been evacuated, or lost their homes. As you know, I spent nine years living in Los Angeles and have many friends who live there and also many friends who are rabbis there. My heart goes out to the entire Los Angeles community. My hope is for the safety of everyone, and for those who have lost their homes to have the strength to move forward, rebuild, and may we all have the strength to support them. We also are deeply saddened by the destruction of Pasadena Jewish Temple & Center which burned in Eaton fire. The status of two synagogues in the Palisades was unknown at the time of this writing. 

Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi Rick Kellner

January 3, 2025

Shabbat Shalom! As I write these words on this last day of Hanukkah, I want to share with you one more spark of light that I hope might carry all of us forward through the weeks and months ahead. I spent seven nights of Hanukkah traveling in Los Angeles with my family. Our children had not returned to the city in which they were born since we moved to Columbus in 2011. As we drove through the neighborhoods and surrounding areas, one could easily notice the many Jewish organizations, restaurants, and synagogues. There were public displays of Hanukkah menorahs everywhere, including several large plastic Hanukkah menorahs attached to car rooftops. The publication of the miracle of Hanukkah was tangible. We know that Los Angeles has been home to many protests and other antisemitic incidents in the last 15 months, but that did not seem to deter anyone from publicly demonstrating their Judaism.

You might immediately point out that the Jewish population in Los Angeles is more than 16 times greater than the Jewish population here in Columbus and, from a percentage standpoint, it is about double what it is here (5% compared to 2.5%). However, should numbers simply dictate our behavior? Los Angeles was well ahead of other communities when it came to security, as the North Valley JCC shooting in Northridge, CA rocked the Jewish world in 1999. Throughout my time living in Los Angeles from 2002-2011, security was everywhere, and yet we never hid. Fear can have a chilling effect on how we choose to live our lives. It can certainly change our behavior, and the question Jewish history often asks of us is, how do we respond to our fears?

The story of Hanukkah is one that helps us answer that question. How we tell or hear the story may offer us an understanding of the lessons we learn. Listening to the December 25th episode of the “For Heaven’s Sake” podcast from Rabbi Donniel Hartman and Yossi Klein Halevi gave me an interesting perspective on how the world’s two major Jewish communities – Israel and the United States – have celebrated and viewed Hanukkah. In the U.S., we often talk about the miracle of Hanukkah and how we must add light to the world. Such a response focuses on our behavior, acts of kindness, and efforts to make the communities in which we live that much better. In Israel, however, the tale has focused more on the might of the Maccabees, who overcame an oppressive foe. That focus may have reflected the Zionism that helped birth the State of Israel and a recognition that the powerlessness we faced over two millennia would not be an issue any longer.

Rabbi Hartman and Klein Halevi wonder if the two communities need a bit of a reversal of focus. Israel, they suggest, might need a bit of light and hope as they face the darkness of an ongoing war with 101 hostages in captivity for 455 days. As a people, we continue to wonder how we can rejoice when families are displaced, when many have been called to fight in the reserves for months at a time, challenging family life and businesses, and, of course, with so many still advocating for the return of the hostages. Perhaps, they say, Israel needs a little light. Rabbi Hartman had just returned from three weeks of teaching in the U.S., and he wondered if perhaps we need a little focus on the strength and might of the Maccabees. He saw in us the fear and concerns over rising antisemitism and the home we knew as a place of welcome and safety changing before our eyes. I wonder now, how can we display that strength and not be afraid to hide?

This is a question I will carry with me in the weeks and months ahead. Hanukkah is a holiday about Jewish pride and literally fighting for the right to sovereignty in our land and the freedom to be who we are. Let’s carry these aspects of the story with us as we continue through 5785.

Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi Rick Kellner

December 20, 2024

Earlier this week, as I was running on my Peloton treadmill and taking a running class led by Robin Arzón, a fellow member of the tribe, I was struck by her insight as she was teaching about how we respond to adversity when we exercise. The adversity to which she was referring is the stories we often tell ourselves about what we can and cannot accomplish. She taught, “We are the stories we tell about ourselves.” As soon as she said that, I immediately thought about the understanding of Jewish Peoplehood I have been studying throughout the year. I have come to learn that we, the Jewish people, are the “sum of the stories we tell about ourselves,” words that are strikingly similar to Arzón’s lesson.

As we approach Hanukkah, we think of the story of the Maccabees, who literally fought for our right to religious freedom after the Seleucid Greeks had stripped us of our freedom to practice Judaism and study Torah, while also ransacking and desecrating the Temple. Jews living in that time had a choice to make: they could either assimilate into Greek culture or stand up and not lose their Jewish identity. While some bought into this new culture overtaking the Holy Land, not all Jews would stand idly by and lose their identity. The story we tell about ourselves is the one of the Maccabees, who said, “Enough is enough.” Led by Judah Maccabee, the Jewish community rebelled and, against all odds, defeated the mighty Greeks, restoring the Temple through the miracle of the oil.

Each year in the month of Kislev, we tell ourselves this story as we light the Hanukkiah and play dreidel. The story is one of Jewish identity, Jewish willingness to stand up for our right to practice our faith and not run away from adversity or hide from it. We live in a time where the choices we make are very similar. With so much antisemitism in the world, it would be easy to run and hide. However, it takes an act of faith and courage to lean in and display our Judaism. Whether we wear a Jewish star or place a Menorah in the window, we let the world know who we are. When we do that, we proudly display our Judaism, even when some out in the world might not want us. When we publicly show who we are, it reminds others that we belong too.

The story of Hanukkah is one of resilience: that we can stand up in the face of danger. An Israeli graffiti artist known as the Yiddish Feminist, who is known for placing phrases on the walls around Tel Aviv, wrote earlier this year, “Our wounds are centuries old but so are our resilience and our strength.” (You can find her work on Instagram.) This is the story of what we have witnessed in and around Israel over the past 14 months. Whether it is running to the shelter each day and then picking up and returning to normal life, finding ways to thrive while being displaced from your home, or finding new ways to earn a living with tourists not coming to Israel, Israelis have found a way.

Hannah Wojno, who grew up at Beth Tikvah and has been living in Tel Aviv for quite some time, reached out to me last week to tell me about an endeavor that she and several other women have undertaken. Along with eight friends, Hannah launched a website called www.makersofisrael.com – an online marketplace that provides an easy way for those of us living outside Israel to purchase items made in Israel, including art, Judaica, and jewelry from talented artists. As you visit the website, you will do more than support Israel; you will learn the stories of the artists and celebrate their resilience. If you are looking for any last-minute Hanukkah gifts or are interested in supporting their work, please check out the website.

I want to wish everyone a Happy Hanukkah!

Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi Rick Kellner

December 13, 2024

With Hanukkah approaching, I have been reflecting on the theme of light. With our hostages now held captive in dark tunnels for 434 days, I am struck by the blessing of seeing light. The pain of this seemingly endless war endures in the soul of every Israeli and Jew around the world. The ongoing trauma brings great pain as we cope with the shame that October 7th brought upon Israelis. If we needed to understand the pain our ancestors felt when the Seleucid Greeks ransacked the Temple, placed idols in God’s House, and forbade the study of Torah, we need to look no further than the atrocities of October 7th to once again see our vulnerability. With the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948, we were supposed to overcome the powerlessness we experienced throughout history. Perhaps the return of the hostages will restore our hope.

The English lyrics of Maoz Tzur, Rock of Ages, recall God’s might when our own strength failed. But in a world where God relies on humanity to act, when our strength and security failed us, we were overcome with shame. It took days for the IDF to ensure the safety of the border communities. The events of that day have left a dark cloud hanging over us.

Last year, the bakeries in Israel chose not to celebrate with full displays of sufganiyot. I do not know their plans for this year’s celebration. They certainly felt the darkness. And yet, despite the darkness that rests upon our souls, we light candles. The Hanukkah candles are supposed to burn for 30 minutes, and we are not able to use their light for anything (e.g., reading or lighting a room). The candles are meant to simply symbolize the fulfillment of the mitzvah of lighting candles. However, they do much more for us. In the book of Proverbs, we read that a commandment is a candle and Torah is light. When teaching about the meaning of this verse, 11th-century French commentator Rashi explains that just as light always illuminates, so does the merit of Torah stand for a person forever. However, the merit of the commandment is only for a limited time, like the light of the candle.

I am challenged by Rashi’s teaching. It is clear that the Torah represents the driving force for who we are, while the mitzvah, as represented by the candle, serves as more of a spark that has limited impact. The Torah endures because it is like an engine. However, the mitzvah can serve another purpose—it can light the engine in ourselves or perhaps in others. Hanukkah is one of my favorite holidays because, for eight days, we gather at the Hanukkiah and bless and light the candles. For eight days, at the darkest time of the year, we bring light into the world. If that light can provide a spark in us to either find the light of Torah or help those around us who need some light in the darkness, then we have done an incredible act.

Over these next three weeks, I plan to reflect on different themes of light in these pre-Shabbat messages. I hope that the lighting of the Hanukkiah inspires all of us to bring our light to the world.

Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi Rick Kellner

December 6, 2024

With the amount of daylight dwindling this season, I am becoming more keenly aware of how important it is to bring light into the world. As the Jewish calendar turns to the Hebrew month of Kislev, the month when we celebrate Hanukkah, it can be easy to feel overwhelmed by the darkness. We are reminded of the great Talmudic debate between Hillel and Shammai about the proper way to light the Hanukkah menorah. Rabbi Shammai suggests we should begin on the first night by lighting eight candles and then reduce the total candles by one each night. Rabbi Hillel, however, suggests the opposite: beginning with one candle and adding one each night, building the light until we reach eight. Rabbi Hillel’s method has been used for thousands of years because, as he teaches, we do not decrease in holiness; we increase it.

Just as we increase in holiness, we also strive to add light to a darkened world. This is especially challenging when shadows hang over the Jewish community, with antisemitism on the rise and coming ever closer to home. As you all know, we have spent much time working with local schools and school districts to focus on Holocaust education and build strategies to respond to antisemitism when it happens. While that work is continuing, it is also critical that we educate ourselves about antisemitism and what we can do when our kids encounter it in schools.

I am creating a workshop on Sunday, January 5th, from 10:30 AM – 12 PM, which will:
Explore classic antisemitic tropes
Understand the changing landscape of antisemitism vis-à-vis anti-Zionism
Learn strategies for working with schools
Create a personal toolkit with resources from the ADL and Project Shema focused on communicating with schools

This workshop will be geared more toward Middle School and High School students but is open to anyone in our congregation.

Additionally, I am so grateful to everyone who wrote to me with congratulations on my selection as President-Elect of the Central Conference of American Rabbis. It is truly an honor to serve as your rabbi and be part of the Beth Tikvah family.

I am also sorry that we had to postpone our Scholar-in-Residence weekend. We are looking at new dates and hope to announce those shortly.

Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi Rick Kellner

November 30, 2024

There is a story told of Rabbi Yerucham Levovitz, one of the great teachers of Mussar (Jewish spiritual development) who lived in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Rabbi Levovitz had a special fund from which students of the yeshiva could borrow money. One year, a student borrowed money to travel home for Passover. Upon returning, he repaid the money and offered a word of gratitude. As soon as the words “thank you” came out of his mouth, his teacher scolded him, saying that when a beneficiary of a mitzvah expresses gratitude, it diminishes the mitzvah and undercuts the selflessness of the doer.

The next year, the same student borrowed money again to travel home. This time, when he returned to the yeshiva and put the money back in the fund, he didn’t say a word. Rabbi Levovitz said to him, “Where’s your gratitude?” Confused, the student replied, “Rabbi, last year I did the same thing and said thank you, and you scolded me. This year, I said nothing, and you scolded me. What am I supposed to do?” Rabbi Levovitz explained that one is not supposed to express gratitude in this situation; however, the feeling of gratitude inside should have been so great that it would have been difficult to remain silent. The rabbi did not see the student struggling to remain silent.

Alan Morinis shares this story in his book Everyday Holiness and explains that the lesson of gratitude lies in the heart, not in the behavior. The staff at Beth Tikvah embodies this feeling of gratitude, which turns into an expression of gratitude daily. Whenever our members see the police officer in our lobby, we thank them for being there. These special duty shifts are optional; yes, they receive pay, but they take these shifts during their time off and put their lives on the line to protect us.

We are served by three police departments at Beth Tikvah: Worthington, Perry Township, and Sharon Township. I hope that, in this season of offering thanks, you will take a moment to write three thank-you notes to our police departments for protecting us. When you write to them, please include in the note that you are a member of Beth Tikvah.

Worthington Police Dept.
6555 Worthington Galena Rd.
Worthington, OH 43085
Attn: Chief Mylett

Perry Twp Police Dept.
7125 Sawmill Rd.
Dublin, OH 43016
Attn: Chief Cesaro

Sharon Twp Police Dept.
95 E. Wilson Bridge Rd.
Worthington, OH 43085
Attn: Chief Tuchfarber

I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday!

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Rick Kellner

December 13, 2024

With Hanukkah approaching, I have been reflecting on the theme of light. With our hostages now held captive in dark tunnels for 434 days, I am struck by the blessing of seeing light. The pain of this seemingly endless war endures in the soul of every Israeli and Jew around the world. The ongoing trauma brings great pain as we cope with the shame that October 7th brought upon Israelis. If we needed to understand the pain our ancestors felt when the Seleucid Greeks ransacked the Temple, placed idols in God’s House, and forbade the study of Torah, we need to look no further than the atrocities of October 7th to once again see our vulnerability. With the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948, we were supposed to overcome the powerlessness we experienced throughout history. Perhaps the return of the hostages will restore our hope.
The English lyrics of Maoz Tzur, Rock of Ages, recall God’s might when our own strength failed. But in a world where God relies on humanity to act, when our strength and security failed us, we were overcome with shame. It took days for the IDF to ensure the safety of the border communities. The events of that day have left a dark cloud hanging over us.
Last year, the bakeries in Israel chose not to celebrate with full displays of sufganiyot. I do not know their plans for this year’s celebration. They certainly felt the darkness. And yet, despite the darkness that rests upon our souls, we light candles. The Hanukkah candles are supposed to burn for 30 minutes, and we are not able to use their light for anything (e.g., reading or lighting a room). The candles are meant to simply symbolize the fulfillment of the mitzvah of lighting candles. However, they do much more for us. In the book of Proverbs, we read that a commandment is a candle and Torah is light. When teaching about the meaning of this verse, 11th-century French commentator Rashi explains that just as light always illuminates, so does the merit of Torah stand for a person forever. However, the merit of the commandment is only for a limited time, like the light of the candle.
I am challenged by Rashi’s teaching. It is clear that the Torah represents the driving force for who we are, while the mitzvah, as represented by the candle, serves as more of a spark that has limited impact. The Torah endures because it is like an engine. However, the mitzvah can serve another purpose—it can light the engine in ourselves or perhaps in others. Hanukkah is one of my favorite holidays because, for eight days, we gather at the Hanukkiah and bless and light the candles. For eight days, at the darkest time of the year, we bring light into the world. If that light can provide a spark in us to either find the light of Torah or help those around us who need some light in the darkness, then we have done an incredible act.
Over these next three weeks, I plan to reflect on different themes of light in these pre-Shabbat messages. I hope that the lighting of the Hanukkiah inspires all of us to bring our light to the world.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Rick Kellner

December 6, 2024

With the amount of daylight dwindling this season, I am becoming more keenly aware of how important it is to bring light into the world. As the Jewish calendar turns to the Hebrew month of Kislev, the month when we celebrate Hanukkah, it can be easy to feel overwhelmed by the darkness. We are reminded of the great Talmudic debate between Hillel and Shammai about the proper way to light the Hanukkah menorah. Rabbi Shammai suggests we should begin on the first night by lighting eight candles and then reduce the total candles by one each night. Rabbi Hillel, however, suggests the opposite: beginning with one candle and adding one each night, building the light until we reach eight. Rabbi Hillel’s method has been used for thousands of years because, as he teaches, we do not decrease in holiness; we increase it.

Just as we increase in holiness, we also strive to add light to a darkened world. This is especially challenging when shadows hang over the Jewish community, with antisemitism on the rise and coming ever closer to home. As you all know, we have spent much time working with local schools and school districts to focus on Holocaust education and build strategies to respond to antisemitism when it happens. While that work is continuing, it is also critical that we educate ourselves about antisemitism and what we can do when our kids encounter it in schools.

I am creating a workshop on Sunday, January 5th, from 10:30 AM – 12 PM, which will:

• Explore classic antisemitic tropes
• Understand the changing landscape of antisemitism vis-à-vis anti-Zionism
• Learn strategies for working with schools
• Create a personal toolkit with resources from the ADL and Project Shema focused on communicating with schools

This workshop will be geared more toward Middle School and High School students but is open to anyone in our congregation. Please see the flier below and RSVP.
Additionally, I am so grateful to everyone who wrote to me with congratulations on my selection as President-Elect of the Central Conference of American Rabbis. It is truly an honor to serve as your rabbi and be part of the Beth Tikvah family.
I am also sorry that we had to postpone our Scholar-in-Residence weekend. We are looking at new dates and hope to announce those shortly.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Rick Kellner

April 14, 2023

I hope everyone had a wonderful Passover. By now, the chametz we abandoned for a week should be filling us up again. In recent weeks, I have been thinking about the continued tension I have been feeling related to the various chaos we have witnessed in our society. Whether that is pertaining to tensions in Israel both on the political side of things as well as the ongoing violence, or the continued occurrences of gun violence here in the US, as well as repeated rulings that have limited individuals’ access to receiving reproductive health care. 

We may have experienced some tension in our gatherings at seder, as we talked with family members or friends with whom we disagreed about certain topics. It reminded me of one of the greatest Jewish gifts we have given to the world, which is the art of disagreement. Countless times, I have seen Israelis arguing, only to see them hug it out at the end. An Orthodox Rabbinic member of the Knesset who would leave the room whenever the Reform Rabbinic member of the Knesset would speak still reached out to the Reform Rabbi when he had been hospitalized last year due to COVID. 

Jews have disagreed for centuries. We are reminded of this by the Hebrew word machloket-disagreement. Rabbinic literature even comments about the nature of a machloket in the name of heaven and one that is not in the name of heaven. When we think about disagreement in Jewish law, we remind ourselves that the rabbis of the Talmud debated everything from foods we eat, to carrying things on Shabbat, to who keeps a lost object when it is found, to life and death, issues of ethics and more. Many of us will remember that the two classic schools of thought in the Talmud are the House of Hillel and Shammai who always disagreed with each other. We learn from the rabbis that Jewish law is almost always in accordance with Rabbi Hillel, not because Rabbi Hillel is always right, but because in addition to teaching their own opinions, they also taught the opinions of Rabbi Shammai – and they taught Shammai’s opinions first. 

Furthermore, the Talmud also recounts the disagreement between the two schools pertaining to marriage laws and who could marry whom. Even though they disagreed on the law, the Talmud teaches us that the children of those who disagreed with each other from both houses could still marry each other. Meaning, a child from the house of Shammai could still marry a child from the house of Hillel. This is incredibly symbolic because we learn that their disagreements did not destroy the proliferation of Judaism and Jewish life. In fact, one might think that by pushing each other and helping to understand the other’s point of view, it deepened Jewish life. 

So how do we respond when we encounter an idea or a person we disagree with? How do we respond when we learn that Judaism teaches something that challenges our thinking? While a typical reaction is to state our case by putting a stake in the sand and throwing up our hands, I wonder if that is the best reaction. Judaism teaches us, “Who is wise? The one who learns from everyone?” (Avot 4:1) We might then instead keep in our pockets, a series of questions to ask: Tell me about why you believe what you do. How did you come to understand the situation and respond that way? If you encounter a Jewish belief, you might even dig a little deeper. And if you encounter a Jewish belief that disagrees with where you stand, that does not mean an individual is a “bad Jew” (I once gave a sermon entitled There Is No Such Thing as a Bad Jew) or you fall out of bounds for Judaism. We have to consider that Judaism holds diverse viewpoints and that it is ok to disagree. It is important for us to always be open to learning, even though, in the end we might disagree. 

It is interesting that the word for controversy or disagreement in Judaism is machloket, it is closely related to the Hebrew word helek meaning “part.” When I think of this word, I think of parts of a whole. We need the pieces coming together to make a whole or perhaps even a part to a machine which requires different components to work. I think perhaps that Judaism understands there are diverse parts to every discussion and that makes the debate so beautiful and powerful. My hope is that we do not let these parts divide us, but that they help us to sharpen one another so that we may grow from our diversity. 

Shabbat Shalom, 

Rabbi Rick Kellner