Stories we tell

Thank you, Rodrigo, for inviting me to share some of my Torah today. I met Rodrigo around 8 years ago, when both of us worked with Netzer – he was here, I was in Brazil. Now, we are together here in this sacred space. It is really amazing that here in Israel two Brazilian Reform rabbis can meet and share a bimah together. It is a great honour for me.

Last Tuesday, we were studying this week's parasha on Zoom. I was holding Telma when I spoke about being the owner of my story. The whole situation reminded me of Merle Feld’s poem “We All Stood Together”:

My brother and I were at Sinai

He kept a journal

of what he saw

of what he heard

of what it all meant to him

I wish I had such a record

of what happened to me there

It seems like every time I want to write

I can’t

I’m always holding a baby

one of my own

or one for a friend

always holding a baby

so my hands are never free

to write things down

This poem speaks to something I've been reflecting on: how the same story, told from different angles, changes completely. If Devarim is Moses telling the story of the Israelites, what would Miriam's version sound like? Or Aaron's? What would Moses' children tell us, or his wife?

When I lived in Brazil, we had Shabbat dinner almost every week with my whole family. Ten to twenty people around the table. The most entertaining times were when my mom and her siblings told stories from their childhood. They would correct each other as they shared their memories. Each one could tell a different version of the same event.

Every story has different perspectives. These perspectives don't erase each other - they make the story richer. Understanding this is essential today. We live in times of absolute truths, of black and white thinking. The right of one people seems to erase the right of another. This polarization is making the world a scary place again.

This trip to Israel was planned for months. When the war came, most students decided not to come. But I decided to come anyway. I was afraid, but something told me it was time.

I spent three weeks in Jerusalem. I met very different people, old and new friends, and heard their stories. They told me about the exhaustion of living in war for so long. About rising costs, dying businesses, mental health struggles. People getting hurt. People dying.

This trip to Israel challenged me to listen to other perspectives, which can be difficult. Sometimes it's really painful. But these people were also worried about me - living in a world where antisemitism is rising to dangerous levels. Where being Jewish means being the other. Listening to their worry made me realize something: I am a foreigner in the UK. When I’m in Brazil, I am a woman rabbi. In Israel, I am a progressive Jew. Wherever I go, I am the other.

The Brazilian writer Carlos de Assumpção teaches us: "The act of writing is only complete when someone reads the text." The story only exists because someone tells it and other people listen to it. When people really listen to each other, new questions arrive. We become closer.

Moses gathers the people of Israel to listen to his recount of the story - the whole book of Devarim. He prepares them to retell this story over and over again. Stories, especially the written ones, are here to teach us. By reading stories of the past and thinking about them, we may find answers for today.

And then

As time passes

The particulars

The hard data

The who what when where why

Slip away from me

And all I’m left with is

The feeling

But feelings are just sounds

The vowel barking of a mute

My brother is so sure of what he heard

After all he’s got a record of it

Consonant after consonant after consonant

If we remembered it together

We could recreate holy time

Sparks flying

Torah is an amazing source for our lives. By reading, studying, and questioning these stories, we keep Torah alive. We keep the Jewish people alive. We complete the biblical text by listening to these stories and adding our own.

May we read Torah to hear our own stories. May we be responsible for our narratives and change the course of history. May we struggle to listen to each other's stories. And with Torah's help, may we build a moral revolution. May our Torah bring us back to a good life.

Shabbat Shalom.