Bereshit: Our Brother's Keepers

This week we observed the holiday of Simchat Torah. We sang and danced with the Torah to celebrate returning to the beginning of the Torah, starting our yearly reading cycle once again. This week in Bereshit, the Torah’s first portion, we read about the creation of the world. God encounters a universe described as tohu va’vohu - unformed and void. Each day, through the power of God’s words, a new, miraculous piece of our reality comes into being.

Humanity is created on the sixth day. The first couple, Adam and Eve, have two children: Cain and Abel. The brothers compete with one another for God’s affection. Cain, full of rage and jealousy that his brother finds more favor in God’s eyes, attacks Abel and kills him. God, challenging Cain, turns to him and asks: “Where is your brother Abel?” Cain, in an attempt to evade responsibility, lies, telling God: “I do not know.” Then Cain presents what is perhaps the greatest moral question of the Torah, asking God: “Am I my brother’s keeper?” 

Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, following in the tradition of dozens of rabbis who wrote similarly in the past about this moral question, wrote, “The whole of Judaism — its theology, its law, its ethical code — is a sustained answer to the question Cain asked God: ‘Am I my brother’s keeper?’ To which the voice of God throughout the generations replies: ‘Yes, you are.’”

This week we were all witness to a miracle. We saw 20 young men who had been condemned to the valley of the shadow of death brought back into the light of day and reunited with their loving families. If you have not done so yet, I encourage you to watch the videos of the freed hostages reuniting with their families. Through the screen, you can feel the emotion of that moment, you can feel that they all understand the power of the miracle they lived through.

Perhaps more difficult to see is the other miracle we experienced over the past two years. We watched the families of these hostages fight for 738 days to bring them home. For days, weeks, months they protested, consulted, demanded, begged, and flew around the world meeting anyone and everyone who might be able to help them in their struggle to bring their loved ones home. There must have been moments of profound anguish, where hope felt all but lost. And yet, they truly left no stone unturned in their tireless work to bring their loved ones home. 

The families were not alone in their efforts. Hundreds of people, both in Israel and around the world, dedicated their time, resources, and energy to keep the hostages on the front pages and in the front of people’s minds. What happened here in New York is a perfect example: for 105 weeks, a small group of dedicated individuals organized a rally and march every Sunday morning in Central Park. They told stories, carried photos of the hostages, and spread the message that the hostages must come home. No matter heat, rain, wind, or snow - every Sunday they marched.

For two years, we bore witness to the miracle of a group of people living up to our tradition’s highest moral calling. The hostage families and their allies lived, during every hour of the past 738 seemingly endless days, Judaism’s emphatic ‘yes’ to the question “am I my brother’s keeper?" The Jewish people owes a great debt to these people who reminded us of our sacred commitment to always care for our sisters and brothers. 

It is so fitting that we read the first chapters of our Torah this Shabbat. The story of creation reminds us of the infinite potential placed into the hands of humanity. The story of Cain and Abel reminds us of Judaism’s expectation that we use that potential to fulfill our role as each other’s keepers. What a privilege it is to be part of a people whose tradition is based on this value - what a privilege to be part of a people who lives this value.

Am Yisrael Chai. 

Shabbat Shalom.