D’var Torah for the Temple Beth-El 2026 Congregational Meeting

For Parashat B’ha’alotecha

As some of you probably know, I  recently traveled to Berlin, Germany. While there, I attended a Friday night Shabbat service at a place called the Neue Synagogue on Ouranienburger Strasse in the Mitte, or center neighborhood of Berlin. I’ve been a little obsessed with this building ever since. It is majestic, built in 1866 and opened that year with a formal ceremony attended by the Bismarck of Prussia among other dignitaries. 

The building boasts a massive, gilded dome and two spires on the top, in the Moorish architectural style. It once held a sanctuary that could be filled with 3,200 people, including two levels of women’s galleries.  

In 1938, during the infamous pogrom called  Kristallnacht, the synagogue was set on fire, like many synagogues that terrible night. Amazingly, a local police officer defied orders and called firefighters to extinguish the fire. He probably risked his life in doing so. 

Later, during World War II, aerial bombardment damaged the back of the building. After the war, the back section was demolished, and now stands as a long concrete slab holding nothing but an open space, including where the bimah once stood. The front section of the building houses a small synagogue, religious school and a fascinating museum, the Centrum Judaicum. 

Something I saw in the exhibit grabbed my attention. It was the huge, ornate silver globe-somewhat damaged- that once held the Ner Tamid, the eternal light. 

A description written about this object told a story. During the war, congregants were barred from entering their sacred space, their own synagogue building.  The last service held there amidst an atmosphere of great fear, was in 1940. Over 60,000 Berlin Jews were deported or sent to concentration camps during the Holocaust. 

When two former congregants finally returned after the war to open the synagogue building, they opened the door to a dark and dank space. They couldn’t believe their eyes when they saw that, even after bombs had fallen, the Ner Tamid was still burning. It felt to them like a miracle! This story has not left my mind since I first read it.

Our parashah, Beha’alotecha this week reads:

Num. 8:2

דַּבֵּר֙ אֶֽל־אַהֲרֹ֔ן וְאָמַרְתָּ֖ אֵלָ֑יו בְּהַעֲלֹֽתְךָ֙ אֶת־הַנֵּרֹ֔ת אֶל־מוּל֙ פְּנֵ֣י הַמְּנוֹרָ֔ה יָאִ֖ירוּ שִׁבְעַ֥ת הַנֵּרֽוֹת׃ 

Speak to Aaron and say to him, “When you mount the lamps, let the seven lamps give light at the front of the lampstand. Aaron did so; he mounted the lamps at the front of the lampstand, as GOD had commanded Moses.— 

This verse refers to the lampstand that God instructed Moses to build in the mishkan, the sanctuary in the desert. 

These lights which the Levites raise up, have been previously mentioned in the Torah, referred to as the Ner Tamid, a light which must be tended daily so that it never goes out. 

The Women’s Torah commentary speaks about the Ner Tamid, the eternal light inspired by this lamp with a continuous light. It quotes the late 5th-early 6th c. poet Yannai. ‘of…days to come, “And our light will no longer be quenched / and our flames no longer extinguished / and You shall be our everlasting light.”

Just as the Jews of Berlin were devastatingly dispersed, murdered and kicked out of their own house of worship by a violent regime, the light of hope and resilience would continue to glow, even in a dark, damaged and empty sanctuary. I wonder;

Could those who perished in the Holocaust have imagined the many Jewish communities, initiatives and creative endeavors across the world today?

For this board and staff, each of us is tasked with the work of sustaining and governing this congregation on behalf of all of our congregants, present and future. We  ensure that TBE will thrive and succeed as a vibrant home for sacred community, Jewish enrichment, holy partnerships, meaningful worship, joyful learning and robust social justice endeavors. We all are metaphorically speaking, tending and guarding the flame which was lit and sustained in that Berlin synagogue, from a past stretching back for millenia into the new future that we now face. 

We live in a time of a lot of darkness, metaphorically speaking. Antisemitism around the world has reached frightening levels, as we all know. These times require creative approaches to security, publicity and interfaith relationships. We will need to share the light that each of us holds, with one another and with all people of conscience, in the face of a chaotic world. 

If we can find ways to grow the light and  keep it burning brightly  in our community, we will, God-willing, be like the ones described in the book of Isaiah in his poetic Hebrew,  9:1: 

הָעָם֙ הַהֹלְכִ֣ים בַּחֹ֔שֶׁךְ רָא֖וּ א֣וֹר גָּד֑וֹל יֹֽשְׁבֵי֙ בְּאֶ֣רֶץ צַלְמָ֔וֶת א֖וֹר נָגַ֥הּ עֲלֵיהֶֽם׃

The people that walked in darkness

Have seen a brilliant light;

On those who dwelt in a land of gloom

Light has dawned.