Faith Archives - Rabbi Sharon Sobel

As I prepared for Shabbat this week, I was drawn to the wisdom of the late Lord Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, z”l. He highlighted two verses from this week’s Torah portion, Ki Teitzei: “Do not despise an Edomite, because he is your brother. Do not despise an Egyptian, because you were a stranger in his land” (Deuteronomy 23:8). Despite all the suffering the people of Israel endured, the Torah calls us not to remain trapped in hate.

Rabbi Sacks reminded us: “To be free, you have to let go of hate. To answer hate with hate is to be dragged down to the level of your opponent… Hate the sin but not the sinner. Do not forget the past but do not be held captive by it. Learn to love and forgive.” (Rabbi Sacks, Covenant & Conversation, Ki Teitzei, 2014).

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. expressed the same truth when he said, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”

These words feel particularly relevant and urgent as antisemitism continues to rise in so many corners of the world. Last Friday evening, shortly after Erev Shabbat services began at Central Synagogue in Manhattan, a man entered the synagogue in an act of antisemitic hate: he violently disrupted the service, damaged the Shabbat candlesticks, assaulted a congregant, and attacked a member of the synagogue’s security team.

What happened next was deeply moving. The clergy, security team, and leadership responded immediately with calm, courage, and a restorative sense of sacred purpose. The rabbis created space to acknowledge what had happened, helped the congregation breathe, reignited the Shabbat candles and found the words to respond to the moment. Then the community returned to the spirit of Shabbat. The cantor and musicians continued the music. Rather than allowing an act of hate to define their community or their worship, they reclaimed the sacredness of the moment. They transformed disruption into resilience, fear into courage, and despair into hope. Hatred and violence would not, could not, prevent them from remaining a community who gathers together to welcome Shabbat in joy, prayer, and song.

As word of what had taken place quickly spread around the globe, so too did expressions of support, outreach, and blessing. This is our Jewish way.

Again and again, our tradition calls us not to shrink back in fear, but to stand tall with courage. Judaism urges us to be proud of our Jewish identity, to live openly as Jews, to strengthen community, to reach out in friendship to others beyond ourselves, and to keep choosing life, hope, and love.

This is how we demonstrate courage in difficult times. Courage leads to resilience. Resilience is not simply endurance: it is the ability to transform hardship into strength and to draw from our past in order to keep building our future.

Every Shabbat we celebrate is an act of resilience. Every act of chesed (kindness), every word of Torah, every meal delivered to a neighbor is an act of defiance against hate and a powerful affirmation of life. Every time we speak out for justice, ring a bell for freedom, or raise a hand to volunteer, we turn faith into action and courage into light.

Each of us carries within us the capacity for courage. Sometimes it is bold and visible: standing up for what is right, challenging injustice, protecting the vulnerable. At other times it is quieter: offering compassion, showing up again and again, refusing to give in to despair. Each act, large or small, affirms our commitment to ourselves, to our community, and to the world.

We are Am Yisrael, the People of Israel. For thousands of years we have wrestled with adversity, endured, and thrived. We are proud of who we are, and we will continue to live with strength, resilience, faith, and courage. We will confront hatred, but we will not allow hatred to define us.

As Rabbi Sacks taught, “Acknowledge the evil men do, but stay focused on the good that is in our power to do.” This is our sacred task in this season of reflection and renewal: to rise above hate with love, to transform curses into blessings, and to help redeem the world we share.

May we always have the courage to choose hope over despair, light over darkness, and love over hate.

Shabbat Shalom!

Rabbi Sharon L. Sobel

Yesterday I had the great luxury and pleasure of spending the day on an interfaith clergy retreat with my local colleagues. Our session was held at a beautiful retreat center and camp situated right on the Long Island Sound.

*My view of the Long Island Sound during my interfaith clergy retreat*

As we sat gazing at the water, the facilitator made a request: listen to the silence, the “sound” from the Sound, the words from your soul. What do you hear?

The day was powerful and rich. Filled with collegiality, friendship, learning and an openness of spirit that come only from spending time with one’s peers.

I felt God’s presence suffuse the space: from both the majestic view that surrounded us, as well as from the sharing of our hearts and souls with each other inside the meeting room.

But feeling God’s presence is not unusual for me. I have a deep and abiding faith. From the moment I was born, my mother sang the “bedtime Sh’ma” to me every single night before she put me to sleep:

“Sh’ma Yisrael, Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai echad. Hear, O Israel, the Eternal is our God, the Eternal alone.”

The Sh’ma is a simple text. It is a declaration of faith. It reminds us of our connection to the Divine.

It was my mother (and father) who showed us by example what it meant to have a personal relationship with God. My relationship with God sustains me and nurtures me to this day. And from the time I was born to this very day, I cannot go to sleep at night until I recite those words.

So last year, when one of my congregants and dear friends in Highland Park, Illinois, gifted me with a beautiful, silver Sh’ma necklace, I was very moved. She didn’t know my connection to this prayer. Or how it represented a link to both God and to my mother. I put that necklace on and haven’t taken it off since. It symbolizes my unwavering faith.

At one point during yesterday’s clergy retreat, I happened to look down and saw that my beautiful Sh’ma necklace had suddenly turned BLACK with tarnish! In the morning, the necklace had been perfectly shiny silver – and it had never tarnished before.

Tarnished Sh'ma Necklace — Tarnished Sh’ma Necklace

I noticed this during a particularly important part of our day: we were discussing “crises of faith” in a manner of speaking. In our spirit of trust and love, we were talking about difficult topics, painful feelings and questions that made us wonder.

It was as if my necklace was suddenly mirroring the feelings reflected in that room. And, the calm waters of the Long Island Sound simultaneously developed white-capped waves.

Doesn’t each and every one of us sometimes have a feeling that our faith has become “tarnished” or “blackened” when we reach a challenging moment in our lives or enter “troubled waters”? That we find it difficult to reach God when our burdens seem overbearing? How do we find a way to restore that lustre to our faith? To refresh and renew our relationship with the Divine so that we can feel God’s presence shining brightly in our lives?

Just like we need to work on our relationships with those whom we love, our relationship with God also takes hard work. When we question and struggle with issues, we are engaging in dialogue with God. When we join with community in prayer, social action, study and celebration, we experience God’s presence. When we reach out to those in need: of healing, of support, of friendship, we are bringing God’s light into our lives as well as to the lives of others. As Jews, we believe that we will come to know God through our actions, through our behavior.

And so, my colleagues/friends found our time together yesterday restorative and affirming. It renewed our faith in the work we do, in the friendships we share, in the trust we have built and in God who gives us life and strength.

And my necklace is now shiny and silver once again.

Tag: Faith

The Courage to Choose Love Over Hate

Tarnished Faith/Faith Restored