“Careful, No One Is Alone” Rabbi Andrew Oberstein’s 3/13/26 Sermon
Rabbi Andrew Oberstein
Qabbalat Shabbat, March 13, 2026
Temple Israel of Boston | Riverway Project
Parashat Vayakh’el-Pekudei 5786: Careful, No One Is Alone
Last weekend,
my partner Jacob and I went to the movies,
and I got to choose the film.
Now,
I do like to think of myself as something of a cinephile.
But I also have a soft spot for films that speak across generations,
the kind you appreciate one way as a child and in an entirely different way as an adult.
So it probably won’t surprise you that I’m a big fan of Pixar movies.
And with just a little arm-twisting,
Jacob and I headed to a matinee showing of Hoppers.
I’m fairly certain we were the only people in the theater without a child.
//
While the kids giggled at the talking animals and goofy voices,
I found myself deeply moved by the relationship between the film’s protagonist, Mabel,
and her grandmother,
Grandma Tanaka.
At the beginning of the film,
Mabel is a sensitive child,
emotionally raw,
quick to anger,
struggling to regulate big feelings.
One day,
in a moment of frustration,
she sits with Grandma Tanaka in a quiet glade,
sunlight filtering through the trees.
They sit together in silence as Mabel takes in the birds fluttering overhead,
the water flowing nearby,
the wind moving through the leaves.
And then Grandma Tanaka shares a simple insight.
She says:
“It’s hard to be mad when you feel like you’re a part of something big.”
//
It’s hard to be mad when you feel like you’re a part of something big.
//
In the film,
that moment inspires Mabel’s lifelong connection to the natural world and her passion for protecting it.
But the emotional truth of that insight reaches far beyond the story.
Isolation breeds fear and anger.
Belonging softens it.
And I have to imagine that line was written not only for the kids in the theater,
but very much for the adults,
too.
Because no matter how old we get,
this is still a lesson many of us are learning.
******
This week’s Torah portion,
Vayakhel-Pekudei,
brings us to the very end of the Book of Exodus.
And the very first word of this parasha speaks directly to this idea from Hoppers.
וַיַּקְהֵל מֹשֶׁה
“Moses gathered.”
But the Torah doesn’t simply say that Moses gathered the people.
The verse continues:
Moses gathered…
אֶת כׇּל־עֲדַת בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל
The entire community of the children of Israel.
This may seem like a small detail,
but especially in Torah,
words matter.
It would have been sufficient to say,
“Moses spoke to the Israelites.”
Or even “Moses gathered the Israelites.”
But instead the Torah emphasizes:
Vayakhel Moshe et kol adat b’nei Yisrael,
Moses gathered together the entire community of the children of Israel.
Not just the leaders.
Not just the elders.
Not just those who had always done the right thing.
The entire community.
And that matters,
because this moment comes immediately after one of the greatest crises in the Torah:
the building of the Golden Calf.
//
The Golden Calf incident was an act of betrayal.
An act of fear.
An act that shakes the people’s sense of who they are.
The Torah famously gives us very little access to the inner lives of its characters, but we can imagine what the Israelites must be feeling at this moment:
Shame.
Fear.
Uncertainty about the future.
Distrust of their leadership,
Perhaps even distrust of themselves.
After a collective crisis,
people naturally begin asking questions like:
“Who are we now?”
“Can we trust each other?”
“Where do we go from here?”
Any chance that sounds familiar?
//
And so,
Moses’ response is especially remarkable.
He doesn’t begin with punishment.
He begins with gathering.
//
Vayakhel Moshe.
Moses gathers the people together.
Because before the Mishkan,
the sacred Tabernacle,
can be built,
The people themselves have to be rebuilt.
******
That’s the work of community.
The word vayakhel comes from the same root as the word for community:
kahal.
Moses isn’t simply bringing people into the same place.
He is reminding them that they belong to one another.
And he gathers kol adat b’nei Yisrael,
the entire community of the children of Israel,
because sacred work can only happen when people remember one essential truth:
You are not alone.
*******
Many of us are carrying the shock and fear of the attack at a synagogue in Michigan yesterday.
When violence touches a Jewish community anywhere, it reverberates through Jewish communities everywhere.
It’s hard to underestimate the emotional weight many people are carrying right now.
This has been an extraordinarily difficult time for our community,
for Israel,
and for our country.
The war now unfolding between Israel and Iran has brought real fear and uncertainty about what the days ahead may bring.
The ongoing pain and moral anguish surrounding the war in Gaza continues to weigh heavily on many of our hearts.
Here at home,
our political divisions feel sharper than ever.
And in moments like this,
it’s easy,
almost inevitable,
to begin feeling isolated in our reactions.
//
Some of us are angry.
Some of us are frightened.
Some of us are deeply conflicted.
Most of us are exhausted.
And I know from speaking with so many of you that many people quietly wonder:
“Maybe I’m the only one feeling this way.”
And the truth is,
in a community like ours,
people are carrying very different fears and very different grief.
But even when our perspectives differ,
the loneliness we feel in moments like this is often surprisingly similar.
And so the Torah offers us a different reminder.
You are part of something bigger.
//
It’s hard to be mad when you feel like you’re a part of something big.
//
The Mishkan,
the Tabernacle that the Israelites build in this week’s Torah portion,
was never just a construction project.
It was always a collective act of meaning.
Everyone contributed something:
Some people brought materials: gold, fabric, wood
Some people brought skill: craftsmanship, leadership, artistry.
Some people brought crucial labor.
*****
The point is,
no one person builds a Tabernacle.
Only a people can build a Tabernacle.
Kol adat b’nei Yisrael –
The entire community of the children of Israel.
Not because they agreed about everything,
but because they understood they belonged to one another.
Because belonging itself is healing.
And sometimes the most important thing a community can do in frightening moments is simply refuse to let people face them alone.
******
Sometimes the wisdom we most need comes from our sacred texts.
But Pirkei Avot reminds us that true wisdom comes from recognizing that we have something to learn from everyone.
And if that’s true,
then perhaps it also includes learning something from a Pixar movie about talking animals.
Because although it certainly wasn’t written intentionally as Jewish theology, Grandma Tanaka’s insight in Disney/Pixar’s Hoppers feels profoundly Jewish to me.
It’s hard to stay trapped in anger or fear when you remember that you are part of something larger.
Part of a people.
Part of a community.
Part of a story that began long before us and will continue long after us.
That is exactly what Moses is trying to teach in this week’s Torah portion.
Before the Mishkan can be built,
he gathers the people (Vayakhel Moshe) and reminds them:
You are not just individuals wandering in the wilderness.
You are Kol Adat B’nei Yisrael.
The Entire Community of the Children of Israel.
And in moments like the ones we are living though now,
That reminder might just be more important than ever.
You are not alone.
None of us is alone.
//
And tonight, as we close the book of Exodus until next year, we hear the ancient words spoken whenever a book of Torah comes to an end:
Chazak Chazak v’nitchazek
Be strong,
be strong,
and may we strengthen each other.
//
And let us say, Amen.