“Our Lucky Thirteenth”
I don’t know if you are aware of this, but Jews tend to be very superstitious people.
When we hear good news we say, “Keinahora,” a conjunction of three Yiddish words said fast – “Kain” “Ayin” Hara” – meaning “No Evil Eye.”
When we hear bad news, we say “Pu, Pu, Pu,” or “Tu, Tu, Tu” and spit three times.
We tie red strings on our left wrist, wear Hamsa bracelets or necklaces, tug our ears after we sneeze saying, “tzu langehmazaldikker yohrn” (“to long, lucky years”), close any open books so nothing can steal our holy knowledge, put salt in our pockets to keep away demons, eat fish on Rosh Hashanah because of the fish that survived Noah’s flood, wash our hands after funerals, and break glasses on our wedding day, just to name a few.
These go together with other American superstitions we have adopted like staying away from black cats, not stepping on cracks in the road, not walking under ladders, wishing on stars and birthday candles, and collecting four leaf clovers. But there is one popular superstition that is most certainly not Jewish, namely an aversion to the number thirteen. This superstition is so ingrained into our popular imagination it even has a name: triskaidekaphobia.
What you probably didn’t know, because I didn’t until researching for this sermon, this is a Christian custom originating from Judas being the 13th guest at the last Supper, and the arrest of the Knights of Templar on Friday the 13th in 1307 (who knew, right?).
For, Jews, thirteen is actually a very lucky number.
On the High Holy Days, there are Thirteen Attributes of God, which are usually recited three times also out of superstition
In the 12th Century, Moses Maimonides composed a list of Thirteen Attributes of Faith.
On Passover, “Who Knows One,” ends with number Thirteen.
And, in the story of Purim, Haman picks the 13th of Adar to be the day of our destruction, only to have the tables turned on him making it a day of celebration for us.
But, most importantly for us tonight, thirteen is the age of Mitzvah, as in the Bar or Bat Mitzvah.
Keinahora, and Pu, Pu, Pu, we at Congregation Shir Shalom have officially reached this sacred milestone.
Thirteen years ago, this past July 1st, we walked from Alberta Drive to Sheridan Drive, transforming our two legacy congregations of Temple Sinai and Temple Beth Am, into the community we are today.
And, just as a proud parent would do when the child’s B’nei Mitzvah celebration, I stand before you to Kvell! Here are thirteen ways I truly appreciate you as a Kehillah Kedoshah, a holy community:
- You are welcoming. Not just welcoming as window dressing, but truly welcoming, greeting every guest with a smile and a warm hello, making them feel at home.
- You are compassionate. Sending out prayers of healing and mourning to those in need, visiting sick houses, attending funerals, and lending your time and energy to supporting one another through thick and thin.
- You are community minded. Coming out to events in communities beyond ourselves. Understanding that the Western New York is big and diverse, and needs all the help it can get.
- You are resilient. Weathering storms like the Tree of Life attack, Covid, and October 7th, in addition to all the normal twists and turns of communal life.
- You are creative. Willingly trying new things, like our outrageous Purim spiels, to our gathering in mass at the Transit Drive In during the pandemic.
- You are honest. Understanding that being together in community means sharing hard things in addition to the good ones. You are willing to see yourselves as you are, and not just as who you hope to become.
- You are curious. Always thinking of new ways to approach our tradition, not feeling stuck in the box of what has always been done.
- You are outspoken. Saying what is needed when it is needed, challenging norms and fighting for what is right.
- You are generous. Giving freely to our synagogue community and to the greater world. Our hallways are always overflowing with food and other supplies to community partners.
- You are industrious. Learning to make do with what we have, understanding both the financial and physical limitations we live under.
- You are modest. Proud of our accomplishments but also humble about our place in the larger world.
- You are unique. Different from any other community in a way that may be hard to name but is not hard to see.
- You are strong, rounded, tough minded, and here to stay.
Fear of the Ayin Harah is so ingrained into the human psyche it goes all the way back to Mesopotamia and has been part of almost every major culture for the past 5,000 years. The basic understanding is that an evil or jealous look given in your direction can cause sickness, injury and misfortune. To counteract its power various amulets have been designed over the years. For the Phoenicians and Romans, it was animal teeth. For the Italians it was cornicello. In Iran, it is the rue plant that is said to ward it off.
But, for us at Congregation Shir Shalom, the antidote to the Ayin Harah, the evil eye, is not talismans and prayers, it is positive individual and collective action.
As the Talmud tells us in Pirkei Avot 4:2: “Mitzvah Gorreret Mitzvah, Averah Gorreret Averah, Good Deeds Bring More Good Deeds, Bad Deeds Lead to More Bad Deeds.”
Better than mere superstition, we have faith in God, faith in one another, and faith in the overall goodness in the world.
We ward off the Ayin Harah, every time we turn to one to offer help and support and we ask for help and support for ourselves
We ward off the Ayin Harah, every time we see a need in the world, and we offer to fill it, no matter how big or how small.
We ward off the Ayin Harah, every time we show up when we are asked, and even when we are not.
We ward off the Ayin Harah, by living out the traditions of our ancestors, honoring their memories with our words and our deeds.
We ward off the Ayin Harah, each time we gather in sacred community, whether in services, at shivas, or at Chivettas.
We ward off the Ayin Harah, each time we laugh, love, and cry in one another’s company.
Red Strings and Four Leaf Clovers may help make us feel safer, but strong, resilient communities can actually make us so. By surrounding ourselves in blessings, we allow blessings to overflow all around us, not only in the life of our community, but in all of our individual lives as well.
A Kehillah Kedoshah, a Holy Community has the capacity to transform the world around it, making life better for everyone attached to it.
Now, in our Mitzvah year, I can safely say that what makes our community special and holy, what makes me have a smile each and every time I walk in the building, is that each and every one of us gathered here today, whether a new member or a lifelong one, has made an essential contribution to the building of our community. This is a place we have built and continue to build together. This is not my community, or Cantor Franks or Joannes, or our Boards, but all of ours.
In honor of our 13th year, we are giving you a 13th anniversary pin. Wear it with pride. You deserve it. Without you, we would not be where we are today. xThank you for always being there. May our 13th year be a lucky one and Pu Pu Pu and Keinaharah, may the Ayin Harah stay far away from us.
To a good, sweet year ahead!
Shanah Tovah U’Metukah