Shabbat Greetings
Tonight is a very unusual Shabbat. We will be gathered for what might be described as a Ghoulish Off-Key Singers Shabbat, a celebration of music, community, poking fun at Halloween, and the comforting realization that, when it comes to singing, not all of us were given the gift of perfect pitch. It turns out, this week’s Torah portion, Vayera (Genesis 18:-22:24) is actually a pretty good Torah portion for an evening like this because Vayera is filled with some very strange things.
There are mysterious visitors who arrive at Abraham’s tent. There is a dramatic escape from Sodom. There is a wife who looks back and becomes a pillar of salt. There is a miraculous birth. There is a child nearly sacrificed on a mountain. And there is plenty of uncertainty about what is going to happen next. In other words: Vayera has a little bit of everything you might expect on Halloween weekend.
Yet underneath all of the drama and mystery is a very important theme: How do we respond when we encounter something unfamiliar, frightening, or unexpected? Abraham sees three strangers approaching his tent. He doesn’t hide. He doesn’t say, “Who are those weird people?” Instead, he runs to greet them. He offers them food, water, shade, and hospitality. Abraham teaches us that when something unfamiliar enters our lives, one response is to open the door. That is a powerful message for us tonight.
Halloween is often about things that scare us: ghosts, monsters, darkness, things that go bump in the night. Even though Jews technically don’t observe this pagan festival, as American citizens we have engaged in the frivolity of this celebration. However, Judaism has another response to the things that frighten us.
We gather. We light candles. We sing. We tell stories. We eat together. We laugh. In other words, we create community in the face of the unknown. And that brings us to the “off-key” part of tonight’s celebration.
There is something wonderfully Jewish about singing together even when we don’t all sound alike. Some people can carry a tune beautifully. Some people can harmonize. Some people can find the melody immediately. And some of us… well, let’s just say that we provide creative interpretation. But here’s the thing: when we sing together, nobody has to be perfect. The goal isn’t to produce a flawless performance. The goal is to belong.
A beautiful voice can be wonderful but a room full of people singing together, even imperfectly, creates something that no solo performer can create. Maybe that is another lesson from Vayera. Abraham’s story isn’t a story of perfection. He makes mistakes. Sarah makes mistakes. Lot makes mistakes. Their family experiences conflict, fear, doubt, and uncertainty. And yet the story continues. Why? Because Judaism isn’t built around perfect people. It’s built around people who keep showing up. We show up for one another.
We show up for Shabbat. We show up for our families. We show up for our community. Sometimes, we show up with a song that is just slightly, or spectacularly, off-key. And that’s okay. In fact, tonight, it may even be the point because there is something deeply Jewish about taking what we have and offering it with joy.
Abraham offers hospitality. Sarah offers laughter, even skeptical laughter. The angels offer a message and we offer our voices. Maybe our voices aren’t perfect but they are ours. When we put them together, something happens that is bigger than any individual voice.
So tonight, as we sing our Goulish sounding songs, tell our stories, laugh at ourselves, and celebrate Shabbat together, let us remember:
We don’t have to be perfect to participate. We don’t have to be fearless to welcome others and we don’t have to sing perfectly to make beautiful music together. The real miracle isn’t that everyone sings the right notes. The miracle is that we sing together at all. So let us embrace the spooky, the silly, the strange, and yes the slightly off-key. Let us welcome one another the way Abraham welcomed his mysterious visitors. Let us turn fear into laughter, uncertainty into community, and individual voices into one great, wonderfully imperfect chorus. And may this Shabbat remind us that sometimes the most beautiful sound in the world isn’t a perfect note. It’s the sound of a community singing together. Even if we’re a little off-key.
SHABBAT SHALOM