By Jennifer Kalenscher, WLCJ Financial Secretary
I’m not sure about you, but I am tuning out all of the political ads that I hear. I have stopped answering the phone unless it is someone I know. I’m done with all of the voices and the noise!
The last few Shabbatot, we have read stories of our ancestors finding themselves navigating a dense landscape of voices. There are the voices of divine messengers promising a miraculous son, the laughter of Sarah echoing from behind the tent door, the cries of Hagar and Ishmael weeping in the parched desert, the yearning of young women to have a child in the voices of Lot’s daughters, the devastating call from God for Abraham to sacrifice Isaac along with the silence that hangs over Abraham and Isaac as they climb Mount Moriah, and Abraham’s servant praying to find a wife for Isaac. Reading some of these voices leaves us in a state of bewilderment and out of balance.
The text pushes us to think about a vital question: In a world echoing with competing sounds, which voices do we actually listen to? And how do we deal with the voices that are counter to our core beliefs?
The modern world is filled with overlapping clamor. We are bombarded by the loud, polished voices of political pundits, social media feeds, and cultural demands. It is incredibly easy to let these overpowering sounds drown out everything else. But our tradition demands that we listen like God and our ancestors listen in the Torah. We are called to lean in and hear the quiet, breaking voices of those who are hurting. We must listen to the silent cry of the lonely neighbor, the muffled anxiety of a struggling friend, and the unspoken needs of the vulnerable people in our communities.
Hear our voice, Shema Koleinu, is the Torah Fund theme for this year. How do we speak to make sure our voice is heard? And how do we listen to make sure we hear voices (and quiet) from others as well.
L’Shalom,
Jennifer Kalenscher
WLCJ Financial Secretary
jkalenscher@wlcj.org
