As morning peaks through rustling leaves, light twinkles on our fluttering eyelashes.

The infinite wonders we can see, hear, touch and taste begin to flow like the light inside our souls.

Mah Rabu Maasecha Adonai, how many are Your works, Eternal One?

From the enormity of an eclipse to our intricate fingertips.

Baruch Atah Adonai Yotzeir Ham’orot

Blessed are You Adonai, Creator of heavenly lights.

The book of Ruth is an inspiring, fascinating, and unique canonical work found within the K of  TaNaK, Ketuvim or writings. For those unfamiliar with the story of Ruth, here is the cliff notes version: Ruth, a Moabite woman has found herself to be a widow, along with her sister-in-law Orpah and her mother-in-law Naomi. On a journey back to Naomi’s homeland Bethlehem, Naomi tells Orpah and Ruth to “turn back to their mother’s house,” as Naomi cannot give them more sons to marry, and therefore, not able to provide them with proper economic status.  Orpah does turn back, but Ruth insists on following Naomi even after being warned three times. Ruth says:

“Do not urge me to leave you, to turn back and not follow you. For wherever you go, I will go; wherever you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God (Ruth 1:16).”

Naomi reluctantly gives in, and they arrive in Bethlehem together. A generous landowner lets Naomi glean from his field and provides protection while doing so. This landowner, Boaz, happens to be a relative of Naomi. Boaz and Naomi get married and have a son who is an ancestor of King David and therefore an ancestor of the Messiah.

 At first glance, this is the story of Ruth, a loyal daughter-in-law, who in later tradition becomes known to be the first non-Israelite to convert to Judaism and is able to bear a son (an important son at that) through marrying Boaz. It is unique as it is told from a woman’s perspective, using feminine language: mentioning “Beit am,”  a reference to the houses of Orpah and Ruth’s mothers, instead of the usual “houses of their fathers.” In the last chapter, the elders of the community bless Ruth, calling on our female ancestors Rachel and Leah.

“May GOD make the woman who is coming into your house like Rachel and Leah, both of whom built up the House of Israel! (Ruth 4:11).”

Not only does this continue the theme of using feminine language and characters, it shows acceptance of Ruth, who was seen as a foreigner, now as a convert and a fully  welcomed member of the community. Perhaps this is one of the reasons why we read Ruth on Shavuot; Ruth became a loyal Jew, and it serves as a reminder that the revelation at Mount Sinai includes everyone and welcomes everyone who wants to be a member of our sacred community.

Although I believe everything I mentioned above to be true, I also believe that on a second,  deeper glance, the book of Ruth is also about Naomi and her journey from the narrowness of bitter grief to the expanse of hope and healing through the loving bond of Ruth. Understandably, when we meet Naomi, she is in a state of grief, she lost her husband, both of her sons,  and even tries to send both of her daughters-in-law away. Perhaps she is also grieving the loss of future grandchildren she believes she will never have.  Naomi feels helpless for not being able to help her daughters-in-law. It seems that Naomi wants to be left alone; left in her state of despair. However, Ruth “cleaves” to her, not letting her be alone. This word sticks out here because using the Hebrew word Devek or cleave, as biblical scholar Ilana Pardes points out, presents a deep love as it is used in Genesis 2:24 to describe the love between Adam and Eve (a man and a wife).  Clearly, Ruth feels a deep love and connection to Naomi. Even though Naomi eventually lets Ruth follow along, she does not speak to Ruth the rest of the way. It is difficult to know what was in the silence, however we can speculate that even in deep sorrow, there is comfort in silent company.

As Naomi, her name literally meaning sweetness, and Ruth enter Bethlehem, people are excited to see Naomi, but Naomi wants to be called Mara, meaning bitter. Naomi remarks “Do not call me Naomi, she replied. Call me Mara, for Shaddai has made my lot very bitter (Ruth 1:20).”  As we move along the story, we see a shift from Naomi’s bitterness. When she realizes that Boaz is a relative, she begins to see hope in helping Ruth marry Boaz. Naomi makes herself busy by devising a plan for Ruth to meet Boaz.  The hope and the healing continued to grow when Obed, Ruth’s son was born. Naomi becomes Obed’s wet nurse or care taker. This symbolizes healing. This shows that Naomi has a very strong, loving bond with Ruth, and in Naomi’s old age perhaps she feels rejuvenated and youthful as she is able to care for the baby. We can see, this short book of Ruth has many layers and nuances, not unlike our daily lives. Many stories in the TaNaK can feel very distant from us, but the book of Ruth draws us in with an authentic human, feminine experience as it takes us on a journey through hardship and grief to a place of acceptance, healing, and hope for the future. We too were there with Ruth and Naomi at Mount Sinai as they will continue to live with us through chanting this story.

Serman given at West End Temple on Shabbat Tetzaveh (3/7/2025)

Shabbat Shalom,

This past Wednesday, at Hebrew Union College, where I'm studying, we celebrated Founder's Day. This year held particular significance as we honored the 50th anniversary of women in the cantorate and, most notably, we honored Cantor Barbara Ostfeld, the first woman ordained as a cantor in 1975. The atmosphere in the HUC Chapel was electric, a blend of gratitude, admiration, and pure joy, punctuated by many heartfelt tears. I was deeply moved, feeling the weight of this historic moment. Looking around at the generations of women cantors and soon-to-be women cantors, I realized just how many doors have been opened for my voice today, all thanks to the courage and perseverance of women like Cantor Ostfeld, who refused to be deterred by closed doors and bravely broke down gender barriers in Jewish spaces.

This week’s Torah portion, Tetzaveh, introduces us to the Ner Tamid, the continually burning lamp in the Tent of Meeting. God commands the Israelites to ensure this light burns perpetually:

"You shall further instruct the Israelites to bring you clear oil of beaten olives for the light, to cause the light to burn always. Aaron and his sons shall set them up in the Tent of Meeting, outside the curtain which is over [the Ark of] the Pact, [to burn] from evening to morning before יהוה. It shall be a due from the Israelites for all time, throughout the ages (Exodus 27:20-21).”

Today, we find a Ner Tamid on the bimah in every synagogue. This eternal light, a direct link to the ancient Tabernacle, is one of the few commandments from that portable sanctuary that we still observe.

Many commentators have explored the meaning of the Ner Tamid. Rashi, the renowned 11th-century scholar, highlights the nuanced Hebrew verb "leha'alot," meaning "to elevate" or "to tend." The Torah text uses “leha’alot” rather than using the simple verb to light “L’hadlik,” which we use in our Shabbat blessings, “lehadlik ner shel Shabbat.” This choice of the verb "leha'alot" highlights the ongoing effort required to maintain the light, a constant tending.

The Ner Tamid is a rich and multifaceted symbol. It represents God's eternal presence, the light of Torah as it shines above the Ark, the light of our community, the continuity of our tradition, our own inner light, and the light of change. This light is dynamic, not static or stagnant. It is an eternal flame that evolves, grows, and may even dim at times. As Jews, we have the responsibility to tend to this light, to nurture its growth in our ever-changing world. It is the continuous light of our people.

Our Aleinu prayer reminds us that we are called to bring about change, to share the stories of our past in order to build a better future. In her persistent knocking on closed doors, Cantor Barbara Ostfeld has been a shining Ner Tamid, inspiring countless voices within the Reform Jewish community.

As we celebrate International Women’s Day tomorrow, I am deeply honoredto stand on Cantor Ostfeld’s shoulders, to lead communities in prayer and song, and to continue moving the light forward through leadership and by tending to my own inner flame. May each of you elevate your own light, like the Ner Tamid, and contribute to the building of our sacred community.

Shabbat Shalom.