KI TAVO 5781
This sermon was prepared for last Shabbos, but I wound up giving a Dvar Torah instead. And since its theme is just right the week before Rosh Hashanah, I’ll share it with you now.
Last Shabbos was August 21st, and that’s a special date for me—I’ll explain in a moment. The week before also held a special date for the Jewish people. On August 13, 2020, an extraordinary event transformed the Middle East: Israel, the United Arab Emirates and Bahrain signed a joint statement to normalize diplomatic relations. This historic Abraham Accords opened wide a door that seemed hopelessly shut for more than 70 years between the Arabs and Israel.
Almost every day brought another “1st.” In October, Etihad Airlines launched a Hebrew-language website to help Israeli travelers book reservations. Thousands of Israeli tourists flooded the UAE until Covid-19 put a halt to that. The flurry of activity following the Abraham Accords spanned everything from an Israeli lingerie ad shoot in Dubai…to ambitious collaborations in agricultural and medical research…to the opening of 5 kosher restaurants in Dubai!
Abraham Accord signatories now also include Sudan, Oman and Morocco. Saudi Arabia—although not technically part of the accords for internal political reasons—has given its Royal implicit agreement.
In March the RAND Corporation—a nonprofit, nonpartisan research group—stated that, “4 million new jobs and more than $1 trillion in new economic activity over the next decade” is likely. They anticipate 11 Arab nations eventually becoming a part of the Accords. This is all in addition to Egypt and Jordan, which have already normalized relations with Israel.
Amidst all the turmoil of the past couple of years that the world has experienced and is currently experiencing, the making of peace between Israel and its implacable enemies who swore it would throw the Jewish State along with its Jews into the sea, gives hope for all of humanity. For if the Arabs and Jews can make peace, then any foes can!
And let me tell you what also gives me hope and why last Shabbos was such a special day for me. Exactly one year ago last Shabbos, on August 21st, as I was swimming laps at LA Fitness—as it is my custom to do on Friday afternoons—I felt a stiffness in the back of my neck and after 25 laps I got out of the pool. I couldn’t catch my breath. I quickly dressed and went out to my car, but I didn’t feel it was safe to drive, so I called Cheryl to come and get me. When she arrived and took one look at me, she called my doctor’s office who advised we go straight to the emergency room.
Now, I didn’t think I was having a heart attack because I had no chest pain. But I was having a heart attack. Remember, this was in the heat of the Coronavirus lockdowns, and so Cheryl couldn’t stay with me or even go into the hospital. Lucky for me, however, Emory Hospital is a world class facility on the cutting edge of medical technology with the finest medical care in the world. It was less than an hour from the time I got out of the pool till I was lying on the table in the cath-lab—and that was significant in saving my life! I wonder what would have happened if I was on a 11-hour flight to Israel?
This was only the 2nd time in my life I was taken to the emergency room. 10 years before—also just a few weeks before Rosh Hashanah, also on a Friday afternoon—I was stricken with a diverticulitis attack. In the 32 years I have been in Atlanta, I have only missed a Shabbos in shul that was not a planned vacation these 2 times. During that diverticulitis attack, as I was waiting between tests, so I got on my cell phone to make calls to insure we had a minyan Friday night. I was pretty successful because who could say no to their rabbi calling from the emergency room of a hospital? I later realized I made a serious mistake. I should have also asked for money! Last year, because the heart attack happened so close to Shabbos, we could not make last minute arrangements and had to cancel our Zoom service.
The worst part of the whole experience was that Cheryl was not allowed to be with me because of the Coronavirus. But somehow, she did manage to smuggle in some wonderful kosher meals, and with every delicious bite I felt her presence.
What I also felt was terribly humble. When you’re well you think you can accomplish anything. It never occurs to you that in a minute it all can change, and you can find yourself hardly able to move—lying on a gurney wearing a hospital gown open at the back. What a scary experience it is to be in a hospital. They don’t mean to, but they treat you like a child. They put you in a bed that has sides—like a crib. They determine when you go to sleep, when you wake up and when and what you eat. It’s a scary, dehumanizing and humbling experience to be a hospital patient. Your soul and your emotions are in turmoil, not just your body.
I admit, I was terribly frightened. I was all alone—but not really—I was alone with Gd—and so I prayed like I never prayed before—as I mentioned last Rosh Hashanah—I repeated a simple prayer of only 3 words: “Hashem help me.” I said it over and over again—probably more than 100 times. I continued to pray this prayer as part of my prayer routine and I have never felt closer to Gd—something we all should do this month before Rosh Hashanah, even if you don’t have, Gd forbid, a heart attack. That closeness you get from prayer can help you through anything—even this crazy, unpredictable Delta Coronavirus.
Last week’s Torah portion, Ki Teytzey, has more mitzvot than any other—72 according to Maimonides. Many of them teach us how to face the uncertainties of life, what to do when things don’t work out the way you planned: from marriage and relationships, to raising children, to dealing with loss, to safety, financial ruin, to immorality, violence and war. You see, life is a series of disruptions that will challenge us in unforeseen ways so that our souls will be able to do the work they were sent to this world to do. It’s a profound thought for another sermon.
My heart attack was no doubt one of those challenges. I had to learn to slow down and smell the roses—to appreciate the blessings Gd has showered upon me. The most profound lesson for me was that rather than be bitter because of my fate, I learned that it is far better to draw closer to Gd, to pray with more focus, to learn Torah with a new light—the light of one who has descended to the depths and has come back.
The past year and a half have been perhaps the most challenging of our lives—with quarantine, loss of income for many, most of us at times not being able to hug or hold our loved ones, and not being able to come to shul. After finally beginning to get back to a “normal” life of sorts, now we don’t know when or if this plague will ever end—whether there will always be a new Covid variant.
What causes us the most frustration in life are the things we worry about that we have no control over: our kids’ decisions, what other people do, the Coronavirus, what Iran will do next, what will happen in Afghanistan. I recommend we follow Rebbetzin Chana Heller’s suggestion that we turn our frustrations into prayer. Prayers like: “Gd please help us recover our losses. Gd please take care of my mom—help her to be surrounded by caretakers who are kind, and caring. Gd help our country unite in a good way with the wisdom and the compassion to eradicate hate. Gd help us learn to love and respect one another and create a good future for our children.”
My friends, what are you worrying abo right now? Understand like I did with full faith on the operating table in that Cath Lab last August 21st, that Gd always has our backs. So, do like I did that day and turn your worries for the New Year into prayer: May Hashem help us. May He grant us all in the New Year health, happiness, prosperity and loving relationships. And may He write us all in the Book of Life. Amen!
