Rosh Hashanah D'var Torah
September 23, 2006
Rabbi Elizabeth Bolton

I have always loved this passage of Torah, the traditional Torah reading for the first day of Rosh Hashanah. We read Chapter 21 of Genesis, from Parshat Vayera.

We can think of the sequence of stories in this section of Genesis as the "Sarah cycle" though you won't find that reference in too many texts on biblical scholarship. I became quite taken by this character, and in rabbinical school, I examined the many midrashim, commentaries and explanations, of the Sarah verses in the Genesis story.

Many focus on her role as a mother. One of my favorite commentaries emerges from a verse in the second aliyah of our reading today. Sarah, who has been able to conceive and bear a son after much laughter, doubt and amazement, then pronounces this little ditty:

Who would have said to Abraham

That Sarah would suckle children

Yet I have borne a son in his old age. 21:7

The Hebrew conforms to the English plural - heynika vanim, suckled children, literally sons. Yet Sarah birthed and nursed only one son. The Midrash explains that the women of her community were so suspicious and doubtful that Sarah had actually given birth herself that they brought all of their children for her to nurse, which she was able to do; hence heynika vanim.

But clearly this not is what our story is about. It is not actually about one mother, one couple, or one son. Sarah and Hagar, Isaac, Ishmael and Abraham are archetypes as well as historical forebears. We may root our national narrative in these passages, but we uproot out their spiritual guidance by digging deeper into the texts.

A phrase in verse 17, the last in today's 4th aliyah, is for me a key phrase, guiding my rabbinic, Jewish and human work in the world. Hagar and Ishmael, banished to the desert, have run out of water. Hagar places her son under a bush, and turns away, weeping, unable to watch her son's possible death. The verse begins:

God heard the child's voice, and God's angel called out

to Hagar from heaven, saying to her: "What's wrong

with you Hagar? Don't be afraid, for God has heard

the child's voice from where he sits.

Ba'asher hum sham, here translated "where he sits," is more simply rendered "where he is," or perhaps, colloquially, "where he's at."

Where one is at is an excellent framing device for our Torah readings today, this Rosh Hashanah, and every Rosh Hashanah. At the beginning of the New Year we renew, conclude and re-begin our reading of Torah, underscoring, as I mentioned a moment ago, that our spiritual and historical identity as a people is rooted in its texts and our attachment to it. Hearing these stories again, we are invited to connect the archetypes and paradigms to this day, to Ithis Rosh Hashanah, to where we are at this moment, with our identities and our awareness of our place in history.

We don't need to ignore geopolitics or world news when we hear the Torah. We can acknowledge that some of our characters also belong to other spiritual and national narratives while embracing them as our own. We can even grapple with our mixed feelings, the ones that get tangled up with the intersection of the narrative and our political and spiritual values vis-à-vis Torah and Israel - the land and the people.

We use the listening and the aliyot to connect, ba'asher hu sham, to our torah the stories, and to our torah, the sefer. The reason we treat the scroll with such respect is not that the item itself is holy to us, nor are the stories by themselves, and certainly not the characters, flawed humans that they are.

The ritualized reading of our stories is woven with the fibers of connection. The item that we kiss, venerate, and read from with such elaborate choreography enables us to connect to the warp and weave, the top layer we can see, the bottom layer we must touch, and the interwoven threads we may not be able to see or feel, but must simply acknowledge.

Our reading offers opportunities for study and learning, skill deepening and community building. It allows for intimacy, yet also enables some to keep their distance, again, ba'asher hu sham, where they are at, whether with alienation or discomfort, unfamiliarity with the ritual, or perhaps even hostility. Paradoxically, even familiarity can lead one to the anger; these feeling may emerge precisely because the spiritual and political and historical narratives ge merged and linked, and confounded with our present day relationships with the state or government of Israel.

You are invited this Rosh Hashanah to tangle yourself up the political and spiritual values of Torah and engage in the complications, and to do so in a community that appreciate and accepts all, ba'asher hu sham.

Further reflections on these issues will follow our torah and haftarah reading today. Each aliya's biblical text can be followed in English or Hebrew in your mahzor; in a moment our gabbay will walk you through the themes of each aliyah.

Traditionally, the honor of reciting the aliya blessing was given to named individuals. We find meaning in using group aliyot, while maintaining solo aliyot for particular moments of passage in our community, for example, bnei mitzvah, or Jewish namings for babies or adults, and other rituals of transition.

Today let where you are, and your desire to seek connection, guide you in considering coming up to the Torah.