Rosh Hashanah Haftorah By Harold Dorfman

In today’s haftorah, Hannah prays for a baby. Similarly, today’s Torah portion tells of Sarah praying for a baby. Our tradition tells us we read these stories today to reinforce the power of prayer. God heard the intensity of the pain in their prayers and gave them each a child.

This pain is something I can relate to because I saw it first hand in my own life. When I was married, we decided to go through a number of attempts to get pregnant using IVF.  Well, we went through those rounds and there was no pregnancy. We gave up. I will never forget the anguish and despair in my wife. We decided to look into other options.

We then stumbled onto a doctor who convinced us to keep trying, that it would happen.  In a tremendous leap of faith, Kimberly enrolled in a class for moms on “How to raise a Jewish child.” She was the only woman who wasn’t already the mother of a little baby or about to deliver. By the third or fourth class, she was pregnant with Fiona. I’ve always been inspired by this. Nine months later, at 47 years and 3 months old, Kimberly gave birth to Fiona, a perfect baby girl.

I wish I could tell you the rest of Fiona’s early childhood seemed like a fairy tale or parable, but I can’t. Some of you know my story here. The first time I came through the doors of this synagogue was a year later, and I was in agony. Fiona’s mom had run off with her making all kinds of allegations in an effort to steal the baby. It was unclear if or when I would get to see Fiona again. When you don’t know if or when you are going to see your child again, an hour is an eternity. I know some bad things happened to Fiona during that time, but I will never know the details because she was only one. I believe the separation still affects us today. The worst part by far is that today the story is not at all special. As a matter of policy, our country is separating kids from their parents.

It is not a new concept to discourage immigration by being cruel to newcomers.  As far back as our Torah, Sodom and Gemorrah abused refugees because they didn’t want to share what God gave to us all. I don’t mean to offend people’s political sensibilities, but for me this is not a political issue but a very, very personal one. These are my thoughts and I do not claim to represent anyone else’s feelings.

I also feel it is a religious imperative. The Torah, again and again, commands us to be kind to refugees because we were once strangers in a strange land. This wasn’t just true in Biblical times. Most of us don’t have to go back too many generations in our family tree to find relatives who had to leave their country in fear of hunger, persecution, or death. If we are to learn from history, it is probably naïve to think Jews won’t be on the run again.

These are dark times. A couple of months ago I received a text while on the way to Friday night services. It said, “Be safe at synagogue.” Two years ago, that text would have made no sense. Now we know what it meant.

I grew up in dark times. My earliest memory was seeing JFK’s flag-draped casket being pulled down Pennsylvania Avenue.

I saw fire hoses being fired on dark-skinned people. I saw them being clubbed senseless. They referred to them as “Negros,” as if they were a different species, and therefore it was somehow alright. 

When I was 7, Martin Luther King and Robert F. Kennedy were shot and killed. When I was 8, George Wallace ran for president with the slogan “segregation now, segregation  forever.” He received 13.5% of the popular vote, won 5 states, and claimed 45 electoral votes.

When I was 9, the Ohio National Guard opened fire on a group of student protestors.  Maybe seeing those beautiful young students sacrificed at the altar of hate and division brought us back from the brink. There is little doubt that if we continued on that arc, our country would not have survived until today. Whatever the reason, we came back from the brink for decades of relative peace and progress, however imperfect—and they were not perfect.

We live in dark times. Tuesday, there was a lockdown drill at Fiona’s school. If our kids catch sight of the news, they see reports of mass shootings, of kids with dark skin locked up in cages. They call them “Hispanic,” as if they are different somehow. As I stand here today, I’m not afraid of an invasion by their families.

Sometimes it’s hard to find the proper motivation to pray. Not today. Today I will pray with all my heart, all my soul, and all my strength for us to find a way back from the brink before it’s too late. I will pray that all women and men who yearn for a child get to feel the squeeze of a child’s hand, feeling happy and safe because they are with them. I will pray for refugees, here and everywhere, to be reunited with their families and find a place to live in peace and safety. 

Please pray with me.

Shanah Tovah

The views and opinions expressed herein are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect those of the Synagogue or Board of Directors.

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