On Yom Kippur afternoon we read a section of the Torah known as the holiness code. This section, found in chapter 19 of Leviticus, is at the heart of the Torah and contains some of the most moving commandments within our tradition. We asked six of our members to reflect upon one of these commandments. They did so in front of our community just after we chanted from the Torah. We are grateful for their personal and moving insights which are shared below:

Jill Werman Harris
Leviticus 19:12
You shall not swear falsely by My name, profaning the name of your God.

This well-known dictum, for emphasis, is engraved on two important tablets of stone.

I’m guilty of ignoring the precept often. But one time, it illuminated a great lesson.

About 15 years ago I was sitting behind the wheel of a rental car in Southern California. Mine was the second car in line, waiting for the light to change. My disposition was not composed - I was in a rush with too many things to get done. I grumbled obscenities along with God’s name until the light changed from red to green; the exact moment at which I demanded instant gratification.

But to my annoyance, the car in front of me did not move in that instant. Abusive language with indelicate references to both God and the innocent driver in front of me, raced through my mind. After all, I justified, it had been a full two or three seconds. I slammed my hand on the horn of the car, hollering without words, “Move!”

Suddenly, the driver’s face emerged from her window. Her neck stretched out long and with a look of total sincerity and compassion she asked, “Are you ok? Do you need help?”

My swelled ego quickly deflated and retreated to a place of utter embarrassment. Humbled and regretful, one of my hands covered my mouth, as if the sound of the horn had involuntarily come from my body.

All I could do was say, “No. I’m so sorry.”

And just like that, I recognized my impatience, my demands, my assumptions. Our crusade for instant gratification is appropriate when it comes to a better world. But there is something wise about being more peaceful. I understood that to be dominated by time, with its pressures of expectation and judgment, doesn’t help me accomplish my goals; it only makes me less of what I want to be.

Patience is courageous and restorative; a willingness to connect with what the world bestows on us right now. It’s about doing the best we can-not the worst.

As a wise Buddhist once said, anytime we are waiting – for a cab in the rain, or a friend to apologize or a red light to change to green – we can remember that we are alive right now. We cannot force the momentum of change but we can be determined to use the moment for paying attention, for breathing deeply and for being a little quieter.

Sheryl Spanier
Leviticus 19:14
You shall not insult the deaf, or place a stumbling block before the blind.

There I was, a recent college grad, pouring my heart out in the Career Placement Office at Columbia University, anxious about finding my first job.

Doug, my assigned career counselor, was not even looking at me, but was staring above my head. I was astounded. how could he be so insensitive? Then, once I got over myself, I realized he was blind. Thank God, Doug, was really listening and had the prescience to hire me to work for him. He introduced me to a whole new field, which became my life-long calling. I will be forever grateful that I did not follow my initial instinct to dismiss him as inattentive.

The Book of Leviticus tells us how not to treat people with disabilities: Not to curse the deaf, or put a stumbling block before a blind person. But are we taught ways to help, show compassion, preserve dignity, eliminate stigma?

Others’ disabilities can be annoying. People using walkers or in wheel chairs slow us down. The hearing impaired, ask us to repeat what we just said. Fortunately, our society has evolved beyond taunting and stigma for these physical disabilities.

But, we still have work to do on the less obvious, often hidden conditions of brain disorders and mental health. How often have we used the dismissive words “crazy” or meshugah? When a friend or relative seems down or withdrawn, we might just want them to “snap out of it”.

There are many ways to support and destigmatize, including simply listening without judgment. I am committed to supporting programs such as those offered through NAMI, National Alliance for Mental Illness, that make a difference. Will you join me?

Susan Davis
Leviticus 19:15
Do not pervert justice, neither by favoring the poor nor by deferring to the powerful; you must judge your neighbor justly.

I’m a native New Yorker who lived in the Midwest for many years. When I returned to the City, I was struck by the stark contrast between rich and poor, and between privileged and disadvantaged.

As Jews, we are commanded to treat all human beings equally, whatever their status, and to act fairly, and without prejudice.

And, as human beings, that is not always easy.

Every day we meet people who are poor. On my path to the subway, I see the same homeless man by the church steps; people seem to know him by name. A thin woman of indeterminate age, with her pleading cardboard sign, appears in various spots in my neighborhood.

We can ignore these individuals, or provide handouts. We can volunteer our time in order to alleviate their suffering, and we can donate money to worthy causes. As people with privilege, most of us can buy our way out of many predicaments we face. This is the meaning of privilege.

It is equally easy to defer to the authority of those in power, assuming they know more than we do.

In other words, whether we admit it or not, we choose to act – or not to act – with regard to both the poor and the powerful.

This commandment reminds us that passivity is not an appropriate response, nor is stereotyping of individuals who may look, or act, or think differently than we do.

As a member of society, I choose to engage with the world around me. One way I can follow God’s commandment is to listen carefully to others and to respect everyone equally.

Howard Sharfstein
Leviticus 19:32
You shall rise before the aged and show deference to the old.

I did not expect to live long enough to experience my old age.

You might say that 71 is not old, but to me, reaching this age is quite an accomplishment.

While lying in the hospital during my two bouts with cancer, I seriously contemplated not living to an age anyone would call old, but here I am, embracing every day.

If we are extremely fortunate, we will all experience an old age, strong in body, mind and spirit. But do not rise as we enter the room. As Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote, “what we owe the old is reverence, but all they ask for is consideration, attention, not to be discarded and forgotten”. Do not rise. But please do listen to us, ask us to share our life experiences and knowledge. We yearn to be heard. When you walk with us, walk at our pace. If we ask you to repeat what you just said, please do that.

Understand that we continue to learn, that we never stop searching for new experiences and relationships. Help us know that we remain relevant to your life.

In an environment that embraces youth, this commandment reminds us to respect the old, for we are what you will become, if you are truly blessed.

Jeffrey Silverman
Leviticus 19:32
You shall rise in the presence of the aged and show respect for the old.

This past July I turned 50. The most common question I received from people was, “do you feel older?” Even though I am a young 50, it is hard not to look at my 19, 17, and 13-year-old children and realize there are already a few things I just can’t do physically with them anymore.

It is a bitter pill to swallow knowing that that list will grow longer each year. But the real difficult part was coming to grips with the changing relationship between me and my mother.

My mother was a single parent and with limited resources raised me and my two older siblings. We never wanted for anything – she gave us plenty of love, home cooked meals and schlepped us from an early morning sport practices, to school, to late afternoon and weekend activities.

Her energy and love was endless, but it was her ability to sacrifice everything for us that I will never forget.

Today, I find myself having to navigate the murky waters of our changing relationship. We no longer have a parent/child relationship.

Yes, she will always be my mother and I her son, but the role of caretaker has changed.

My mother is struggling with the reality and fear that she is losing her independence.

Those fears are heightened by the fact that she is having life-ending discussions with her children, who are no longer children, but will always be her babies.

To add to this mix is the fact that my children are observing these changes. Like everything we as do as parents, our children learn from us. One should show their parents from beginning to end - love, respect, patience and understanding.

As I have gotten older, I find myself respecting the job my mother did more each day.

I look into her eyes and I see the women who gave me life, gave me her unending love.

And not to far in the distant future I will walk in her shoes and it will be my kids looking into my eyes.

Debbie Palmer
Leviticus 19:34
The strangers who live among you shall be to you like citizens and you shall love them as yourself for you were once strangers in the land of Egypt.

We are that family. You know, that family that looks just like you and then you think to yourself “that could never be me.” We are those strangers. Early on a Sunday morning at the end of March, my daughter called me, “Mom, Emma has a stomachache. Meet us at the hospital.”

We found out that my beautiful, spirited 2 ½ year old granddaughter had a very large mass in her abdomen. She had an extremely rare form of pediatric pancreatic cancer. I reached out to Rabbi Rubinstein and I will never forget his words. “Debbie, Emma will be okay. God has bigger plans for her.”

The morning of Emma’s surgery, surrounded by friends and family, Peter led a prayer service in the lobby of the hospital. Later that day, as Shabbat services were about to begin, we found out that Emma was going to be all right.

Over the next days, weeks and months, Bye Bye Yuckies became our battle cry and our prayer. All of us eagerly enlisted into Emma’s Army of Angels, led most bravely by my daughter, and her husband. Every day I accompanied Alexis and Emma to the hospital, whether for treatment, for blood work or for scans. Days and nights in the hospital for fevers and fear of infection, we continued to be “that family,” strangers who felt most at ease with other strangers who were part of this indiscriminate club. It was the kindness of strangers, like the doctors, nurses, Big Apple Circus clown care, and social workers who helped us find our smiles, even in our darkest moments.

This past March, we stood together, and celebrated our Shehechiyanu moment. Emma is five years cancer free. As we stood side by side, I knew that being “that family” no longer meant being a stranger. We were surrounded by our clergy and our community who had embraced us, supported us, and provided us with a spiritual beacon when we were lost.

I’m so grateful to be part of a community that strives to reach the person who is struggling. I’m so proud of my family, especially of my daughter. She is my angel.

I pray this will be the year when we look around us and decide to reach out to the person who might be in a harder place, no matter what their “yuckies” might be, because the stranger was me and could be any of us.