Rabbi Esther Hugenholtz

Rosh haShanah Sermon 2011, Sinai Synagogue Leeds Esther Hugenholtz The King and the Lighthouse Once upon a time, there was a traveller. He travelled from place to place, wearing his cloak and staff thin, dust clinging to his sandals. He had been sent out on a mission he did not yet fully comprehend but he knew it was for good. Curiosity drove him. A precocious child, he asked his elders daring questions. ‘Why do we worship the moon, sun and stars? Did not Someone else create them?’ He wanted to search out Who that Presence was, the Prime Mover, the radical Ground of Being. He wanted no more of his father Terach’s idolatrous ways. Unimpressed by the clay figures he had smashed in his father’s shop, he packed his meagre belongings and set out westwards in search of the one God. A beautiful young woman caught his eye. Intelligent and strong, she too, had a deep moral understanding of the world. Not before long, Sarai pledged to marry him. For years, they had been travelling. They pitched ...

Leo Baeck College Sermon Ki Tavo Esther Hugenholtz The Fruits of Our Joy It’s easy for Jews to feel overwhelmed during the month of Elul, especially for us ‘professional Jews’. We fret about how many sermons we still have to research and write, we stress over the amount of liturgy we have to practice and we agonise over our own feelings of inadequacy when it comes to facilitating our own ‘teshuvah’ during this time of good deeds and introspection. There is a measure of irony in this month of Elul-induced angst. It seems that the more we throw ourselves into the process of creating meaning for others, the higher the risk is that we neglect to create meaning for ourselves. We feel unbalanced. Between the heftiness of crafting a d’rasha with the necessary gravitas and managing the logistical challenges of the High Holy Days, we lose sight of what is most important: existential joy. This week’s parashah, Ki Tavo, opens with an unfolding consciousness of existential joy. ‘... ki tavo el ha...

Birmingham Liberal Community Esther Hugenholtz Parashat Chukkat Trust Do you remember that game in school where you had to close your eyes and allow yourself fall backwards in the arms of your classmates? This exercise was geared to build trust, one of the most elusive and difficult human emotions. Why is it so hard to trust? We can be prideful and angry, lazy and greedy. But somehow, these are aspects of ourselves that we can chisel away at to improve. Slowly but surely we can resolve to become better individuals by turning inwards and finding the strength to implement our highest ideals about ourselves. But trusting is hard. In the ocean of trust, no man is an island. We always trust in relation to another. We need each other to trust. This week’s parashah is all about trust. On the surface, this week’s reading appears to deal with disparate themes: the odd purification rituals involving the ashes of the red heifer, Moses striking the rock, the deaths of Miriam and Aaron, the refusa...

Parashat Korach Esther Hugenholtz Herefortshire Liberal Community Empowerment, Not Entitlement When I was about to set off for university, my mother made me some golden promises. ‘It will be the best time of your life’. A ‘flower child’ of the late 1960’s, university had engendered that promise for her. For her it was a time of empowerment, self-discovery, of a mapping out of her democratic ideals which formed the ethics of my upbringing. University did fulfil that promise for me also. I became a student activist, read political literature, went on marches, and sought answers to the big questions in life. I was invited to nurture my intellect, encouraged to stand up for my beliefs and, most importantly, to be grateful for the privilege of exercising my basic human rights. Freedom of speech, assembly and the ballot. All these things are infinitely precious and should be cherished by any civilised society. As it is infinitely precious, our freedom is also quite delicate. Given this...

A Taste of Limmud Parashat Beha’alot’cha Roadmap The vacation season has arrived and many will hit the road. In days past, it would have been tempting to bicker over a wrong turn or missing a crucial exit. Today we are lucky to have the foolproof technology of a GPS to guide us. Parashat Beha’alot’cha provides the Children of Israel with their GPS and presents us with a microcosm of the spiritual roadmap that is Torah. We read a seemingly chaotic text which brims with a large number of events. Our weekly reading starts out with instructions for the Menorah, then describes the duties of the Levites, only to follow with offering the second chance of ‘ Pesach Sheni ’. Then the narrative informs us of the guidance of the ‘ Anan ’, the Cloud of Glory which rests over the Tabernacle, the spiritual compass of the Israelite community. Further on, it mentions the construction of silver trumpets to organise the community, and Moses’ management crash course instructing him to delegate seventy el...

image credit: google Dit artikel verscheen eerder in het Pesach-nummer van Levend Joods Geloof. Farao in het centrum van de macht In de hagada vertelt Rabban Gamliel, een beroemde geleerde uit de Misjna, ons dat ieder van ons in elke generatie verplicht is zichzelf te beschouwen alsof hij of zij persoonlijk uit de Egyptische slavernij is verlost. Hiermee zegt de joodse traditie dat deze niet alleen draait om mooie verhalen en abstracte concepten, maar dat die ook toetsbaar hoort te zijn aan onze hedendaagse ervaringen. In het welvarende Nederland lijkt deze opdracht moeilijk te vervullen. We leven vooralsnog in voorspoed en democratie (en moeten ons als joodse gemeenschap actief inzetten om deze waarden te bewaken). Hierdoor verwordt het gebod uit de hagada echter al snel tot een oefening in abstractie. Toch is dit jaar anders dan voorgaande jaren. De metafoor haalt de werkelijkheid in. Life imitates art, als het ware. De revoluties in de Arabische wereld laten ons zien dat ook hedend...

Deze column verscheen eerder in  april 2011 op Nieuw W!J . Het was een echte politieke soap voor mij de afgelopen dagen. Ik zat zo’n beetje elk uur gekluisterd aan een computer in de bibliotheek van mijn rabbinaal seminarie. Enigszins obsessief compulsief checkte ik de websites van de grote kranten. De vraag van de week was of ik nog wel mijn kosjere kippetje kan blijven eten wat met veel liefde en respect op de Sjabbattafel placht te verschijnen. Op initiatief van de Partij voor de Dieren (PvdD) werd een wetsvoorstel gelanceerd om het ‘onbedwelmde’ rituele slachten te verbieden. De term ‘onbedwelmd’ is op zich al een sterk staaltje Orwelliaans-populistisch woordgymnastiek. De reguliere ‘bedwelmde’ slacht is niet zo zachtaardig als de term suggereert. Hierbij word er namelijk een stalen pin door de kop van het slachtvee geschoten. Dit wil nog wel eens misgaan. Maar in hoeverre kan men redelijkheid tegenover populisme zetten? De stellingen zijn al ingenomen en op de fora van de onl...