September 5, 2025 | Shabbat Sermon – Ki Teitzei 5785

When I enter the season of Elul, I am often humbled by the incredible work that needs to be done. Prepare sermons. Create the order of the High Holy Day service. Make sure everyone has the honors sent to them. Write the iyyunim I want to share during the service to help frame prayerful moments. Pick the story I want to tell at the kids’ service. One year, I was so well prepared for the holidays, I actually made a checklist so I could refer to it year after year. Maybe I should check it, so I know what I have to do in the next two weeks.

During the month, I also try to find ways to help our congregation prepare. This can happen through sermons, teachings, or my Friday Shabbat message. But the challenge for me is that I wonder where I find time to do the spiritual work I need to do—the same work that I am encouraging all of us to do. I do try to convince myself that the sacred work I am encouraging our community to do applies to me as well. Maybe I am actually doing the work while helping us all prepare.

One of the ways I prepare is by turning to a text from the Talmud in Tractate Shabbat 31a. In the text, Rava, one of the great Talmudic sages, teaches the following:
When you arrive in the world to come for judgment, you will be asked several questions: Were you honest in business? Did you set times for Torah study? Did you leave a legacy? Did you have hope in your heart? Did you get your priorities straight?
The framing of these questions is a more modern adaptation by Ron Wolfson, found in his book The Seven Questions You’re Asked in Heaven. It is a book I turn to each year at this time. And you might be wondering, wait, Rabbi, that’s only five. Wolfson adds two questions from two different Hasidic thinkers which ask, “Did you enjoy this world? And, were you the best you could be?”

As Wolfson dives deeply into each of the questions, he expresses some surprise over the first question: Were you honest in business? He cannot believe that the first question is not about believing in God, following the commandments, or giving tzedakah, but that it is about being honest. He adds, it is not just about business but about being honest in all matters. He wonders: If you are not honest in your business dealings, can you be trusted to be honest in other relationships? If you are not honest with others, can you be honest with yourself? If you are not honest with others, can your faith in God be trusted?

As he reflects on these questions, he shares a story about a time in his life when he was newly married. He and his wife Susan were in college in St. Louis. He was just shy of his 21st birthday. He and his wife had decided to have a kosher home, and they were looking for a kosher butcher shop. They entered the store and one of the owners asked, “What can I get for you?” Wolfson asked, “How much is a pound of ground beef?” As Wolfson recalls, instead of answering directly, one owner turned to the other and said in Yiddish, “Who are they?” “I don’t know,” said the second. “What shall we charge them?” “$3.95,” said the second. Susan then turned to Ron and said, “Ronnie, let’s get out of here.” Ron had no idea what had happened, and when they got to the car, Susan explained the whole thing to him. Susan knew the going price for kosher ground beef was about $2 a pound, and they were overcharging them. The owners did not know that Susan grew up in a home where Yiddish was spoken and that it was her first language.

Now, I will admit, if I were in Susan’s shoes, I would have replied in Yiddish with something like, “That seems awfully high for ground beef,” and I would have really enjoyed the look on their faces as they realized what they had done.

Our Torah portion this week teaches us about the importance of honest weights and measures. We learn in Deuteronomy 25, “You shall not have alternate weights and measures in your pouch; you shall not have alternate weights and measures in your house. You must have completely honest weights and completely honest measures if you are to long endure.”

Ron Wolfson is echoing the concerns laid out for us by Moses in ancient times. It would seem that one of the core pillars of society must be honesty and integrity. In order for that to endure, the community must commit to that. It is why we often see a seal at the gas station or the grocery store that says the scales or pumps have passed inspection by someone in the county. Such an act is also a foundation for trust. The moment we cannot trust each other, the fabric of society begins to tear apart, and the pillars begin to crumble.

In Pirkei Avot, we find a teaching from Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel, who explains: Al shlosha devarim ha-olam kayam—On three things the world endures: al hadin, al ha-emet, v’al hashalom—on judgment, on truth, and on peace. When commenting on this particular Mishnah, Rabbi Yehuda Loew ben Bezalel, better known as the Maharal of Prague, explains that each of these three virtues aligns with three parts of the self. One’s physical possessions align with justice; one’s spiritual possessions match truth, which is concerned with intellectual integrity; and finally, one’s actual self aligns with peace. He explains that these three virtues sustain the world because they sustain human existence.

The lesson here is simple: we rely on truth as a foundational value of society. Not lying is something we teach our children when they are young, and we reinforce it throughout their youth. And yet, it seems like some people just never learn.

I recall a story from high school where a young person cheated on a test, and they were the president of the National Honor Society at school. It is a group that requires not only academic success and commitment to service, but also a dedication to academic integrity. The student was removed from the Honor Society. Major League Baseball players who were suspected of steroid or performance-enhancing drug use have been left out of the Baseball Hall of Fame. I am sure we can think of other situations or moments in time when a failure in honesty and integrity cost someone something important.

One of the interesting words in this text is the word for “endure.” In Hebrew, it is kayam, which indicates a sense of groundedness and being established firmly. Modern Orthodox Rabbi and scholar Yitz Greenberg, quoting Robert Cover, a Yale Law professor, interprets the word endures or sustained as continuing to exist, and that the world is upheld by the three principles of justice, truth, and peace. He explains that these three principles are central to the preservation of the post-Destruction Jewish community. He adds that the values paramount to building a new world are different from those required for ensuring the continuity of an ongoing communal life.

We are living in a time where we are searching for truths. As Jews, we once again feel alone in the world as information out of Gaza spreads from once reliable and trusted sources. As truth-seekers, we hope to build educated opinions based on facts and truth.

Several weeks ago, we recall several photos spreading around the world of children in Gaza who were emaciated. Those images evoked global outrage about the hunger situation in Gaza. Within 24 hours, information started to spread that these images and the news stories were incomplete. You may recall that one image shared by The New York Times was a cropped photo. What was cut out from the picture was the image of the child’s older, healthy-looking brother. Omitted from the story was information that this young child also suffered from a preexisting condition like cerebral palsy.

The editors of The Free Press subsequently did a deeper investigation to uncover additional facts about 12 images that were spread by media sources throughout the world. The response from those they critiqued varied. They were clear to share that their reporting was not intended to question the dire humanitarian situation. They acknowledged there is real hunger, but they were extremely concerned about the current state of journalism and the ease with which a journalist can write and share a bias that ultimately shapes people’s opinions into believing a narrative that is not necessarily truthful.

The Free Press wrote an editorial entitled “Journalists Against Journalism”, where they wrote:

You’ll notice one important aspect about the uproar: No one is disputing the facts in our piece. Instead, they take issue with the facts we have exposed. They take issue with curiosity that points in the wrong political direction.
This story—like all of our reporting—does not deny that there is hunger in Gaza. Their situations—and those of the people in these 12 images—are tragic enough, as is the horror of the war itself.
But the panic over our investigation is not sincere—it is strategic. They think if they can make an example out of our reporters, no one will dare ask uncomfortable questions. Questions like: If there is a deliberate campaign of starvation, why did our reporters find that many of these children are receiving medical care, and some of them have already been airlifted out of Gaza to seek treatment with Israel’s help? If these images are representative of the average Gazan, then why were our reporters able to find complicated backstories behind the first dozen images they investigated? And if these critics are such accuracy hawks, why do they take issue with adding basic context to news stories?

If we cannot rely on our journalists for truth, and they are not asking the critical questions, where does that leave us? I recall reading reports from CNN and other news agencies in the past using language that says, “This person is reporting X, but we cannot verify that X happened.” Journalism relies on verification from trusted and reliable sources.

The world has now been trapped by the Hamas propaganda machine that is shaping our minds. When we read information about Israel, how can we respond? What is the information we might come to trust? When I read news, my first reaction is to wait and not judge. One of my colleagues recently suggested that we give Israel the benefit of the doubt when something happens. That can be hard to do because we have such high expectations of Israel.

There is a deeper question I want to ask today: How can we respond when we read or see something? We might want to respond internally that it is in fact true. I recall from the very first seminar that we offered to public school teachers in Holocaust education, one of the workshops focused on identifying and understanding propaganda. We looked at photos and were taught to think about several questions: Who are the people in the photo? What are they doing? Who is taking the photo? What is their purpose in taking the photo?

News stories and photographs are literally snapshots of a moment in time that often do not capture the full essence of what they depict because words and images are finite. Sermons are too. There is often a story behind the image and an intent by the image-taker. As readers of news and students of history, can we be taught to question and understand when to question? By questioning, we open our hearts to alternate possibilities.

The Rabbis offered a teaching that may resonate. In the Tosefta, a Jewish legal text similar to the Mishnah, it suggests: “Make for yourself a heart of many rooms, and enter into it the words of Beit Shammai and the words of Beit Hillel, the words of those who declare a matter impure and those who declare it pure.” A heart of many rooms is a powerful image that invites us to hold many opinions in one vessel, inviting us to discern one matter from the next. If we are asked to hold both the teachings of Hillel and Shammai together, what can we do? The invitation is to think about their responses and discern the truth—that can be an incredibly challenging journey to take.

The Book of Deuteronomy and the Rabbis that followed in the Talmud and the Mishnah help us recognize the value of being honest. If we cannot rely on others to be honest, then we have to do our best to discern the truth. May we have the courage to ask questions and look for multiple sources that allow us to discern judgment, capture a fuller story, and seek the truth.

Kein yehi ratzon.

September 5, 2025

Earlier this week, schools opened in Israel. Why is that something to be interested in here in America, you might ask? For the first time ever, there are more Haredi (ultra-Orthodox) students enrolled in schools in Jerusalem than non-Haredi students. Jerusalem was always a religious city, very different from the more-secular Tel Aviv. However, since 2010 during my visits to Israel, I have seen the city shift into a much more religious one. You could feel the presence of Haredi Jews more and more as the years went by.

This is something that we might want to be aware of for the future as the face of Israel changes. Haredi Jews are the fastest growing population in Israel simply because their birthrate is that much higher than non-Haredi citizens of Israel, including Jews and non-Jews. Many Haredi men do not work outside the home, spending their days studying Talmud in Yeshivot. This leaves their wives to engage in the work needed to earn a living and support a family. Many of their financial resources come as handouts from the government. The overwhelming majority of Haredi men also do not serve in the military and there has been significant political conflict in recent years because the Ultra-Orthodox parties in Israel have wanted a new law passed that would exempt Haredi Jews from serving in the IDF.

With the rise of Haredi students, one might begin to wonder what this means for the future of Israel. Currently, the Haredi population in Israel is about 14% which is about 1.4 million people – growing at around 4% a year. As we think about the long-term implications for the state of Israel, it is not far-fetched to think that at some point in the next century, Haredi Jews will make up more than half the population of Israel. If this is the case, we as Reform Jews, who believe in egalitarian Judaism and hold pluralistic values, will begin to wonder what place there is for us in the State of Israel. For many years, Reform Judaism has been vilified by the Haredi community because they believe we are potential threats to the Jewish future. We know, however, that there is much we are doing to ensure a vibrant Jewish future and the growth of Reform Jewish life in Israel.

With most Haredi schools focusing their educational goals on Torah and Talmud study, there is a struggle within Israel to ensure that these young people receive the education they need in math and civics. Orly Erez-Likhovski, head of the Israel Religious Action Center (IRAC, the Reform Movement’s advocacy arm that fights for equality in Israel) shared this week that IRAC is leading efforts to “ensure that Haredi schools provide instruction in the legally mandated core general studies curriculum is that it includes civics, a subject that is crucial for informed engagement and participation in any democratic society.”

Likhovsky reflected that education is one of the most important tools in promoting pluralism. If such education is absent from Haredi schools, students will lack the basic knowledge of governance on a national and local level. In Israel, national elections tend to lean more towards the center or the right as people are more hawkish with defense policies. On a local level, citizens tend to elect more liberal leaning leaders who ensure a sense of equality. They hope to prevent a full religious takeover of local government.

In America, we have spent so much time thinking about and discussing the war, that it is easy to forget that there continues to be internal issues that need resolution. They will have long term impacts on Israeli society.

At its core, Israel was established to be a homeland for all Jews. One need not be religiously observant to be a citizen of Israel. Most Israelis consider themselves Chiloni, (secular). It is critical that we continue to be aware of the work that organizations like the Israel Religious Action Center are doing to ensure that pluralism remains a value and a practice on both national and local levels. 

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Rick Kellner

September 1, 2025

Some people hold the perception that an immense amount of air is required to sound the shofar. When I sound the shofar, I form the embouchure with my mouth, close my eyes and allow a small but measured amount of air to flow through the ram’s horn. Each shofar is unique, and I have found some to be more difficult to sound than others. With a little trial and error, I am usually able to make it work! When I think about how little breath is required to make the shofar sound, I begin to wonder about the power held by such a little breath; how such a loud blast awakens the soul.

In Hebrew, the words for breath and soul are connected. N’shamah is one of the words for soul, and n’shimah, is the word for breath. Early in the book of Genesis, we read that God breathed the breath of life into Adam. Our morning blessings begin with prayers of gratitude, thanking God for the gift of body and soul. Elohai N’shamah shenatata bi, My God, the soul you have shaped within me. The Hebrew connection between the two words opens the possibility for much interpretation. Our breath is the source of our life; it is a divine gift. Breathing and heart beats are among the normal, naturally occurring actions of our body. We can hold our breath, but only for so long, until our body requires us to breathe again. Our soul is the part of our being we cannot begin to describe with words. As Mussar master, Alan Morinis teaches, the soul is the seat of our moral virtues, it is the spirit that animates us, and it is intimately connected to the divine. When we say we are created in the divine image, perhaps it is the soul that we are referring to.

Arriving in this moment in the new year requires a little bit of n’shimah work and n’shamah work. The High Holy Days provide an invitation for all of us to breathe deeply, take a break from our chaotic lives, and focus on the important soul-work we each need to do. The High Holy Days are also called the Yamim Noraim, the Days of Awe. Awe is one of those traits that is found rooted in the soul. Alan Morinis also writes that, “Awe is a natural human response to an overwhelming profound experience.”

We stand in awe when the shofar sounds. We lean in with awe as we spend time harnessing the internal instruments that empower us to reflect, examine, discern, and turn. Perhaps, each day, during the remaining weeks of Elul, you will make your way to Psalm 27 and imagine yourself dwelling in God’s holy mountain and frequenting God’s Temple.

As we engage in this challenging work, we know we will feel sheltered from above. As we read Psalm 27, we might even consider focusing on the words tekia, shevarim, teruah, and tekia again. The notes of the shofar go from whole to broken and back to whole. These metaphors provide the sacred road map for us to recognize that our lives begin whole, and as we encounter brokenness, we have challenging but sacred work to do to make them whole again.

As 5785 winds down, and we enter 5786, we know that our people continue to feel broken. We are reminded of that brokenness each day as we pray for the return of the hostages and an end to the war. May 5786 bring us moments of sweetness and joy amid challenges and pain. Debra, Zoe, Shira, and I all wish you a Shanah Tovah! We hope to see you at our annual Open House on Rosh Hashanah afternoon.