Shabbat Shalom

At this difficult time, we pray for peace.   And as we pray, give generously to alleviate some of the suffering- reach out to the JDC, Doctors without Borders, World Union for Progressive Judaism, or whichever group you know is trying to reach those in need.

Shabbat Shalom

I hope that this Adon Olam, composed by Cantor Pinchas Minkowsky (1859-1924) of the Brodsky Synagogue in Odessa inspires your prayers and actions for peace in Ukraine. Praying for the safety of the Ukrainian people and wishing you a Shabbat Shalom

The School Maus Ban

With Maus, the McMinn County Tennessee school board has highlighted issues beyond Anti-Semitism.

With the extraordinary rise in documented Anti-semitism, we rightly are sensitive to it. However, if we merely write off the TN School board as Anti-Semites, we miss some crucial things worthy of discussion. We must ask a fundamental question: Is this a matter of teaching about the Holocaust, or is this the right book to do so? Let us set aside the charge of anti-semitism and consider other reasons why Maus would be banned.

Let me give two examples from my own Jewish experience to help frame the matter:

I have regularly seen people ushering children from the sanctuary before the Yizkor liturgy in our services. And often, well-intended adults keep their children from funerals and unveilings.

The rationale common to these is that the adults thought it best for the welfare of the children to shield them from issues surrounding death. They deemed such experiences as emotionally unhealthy. Perhaps the people of Tennessee thought similarly.

Maus is an explicit graphic novel. The author, Art Spiegelman, does not hold back from exposing the horrors of the Holocaust. The scenes are brutal and sear themselves into the mind’s eye. Once seen, it is impossible to un-see it. Arguably, that was part of Maus’ intended purpose. Maus has been a challenging and controversial book on almost every level.   Bringing it to children should be careful, deliberate, and age-appropriate.

Parents try to shield their children, to protect them from the world’s harshness. The question for us to consider is whether such an approach serves a purpose?

Arguably, exposing our children to the world’s harsh realities is essential in helping them develop their understanding of the world in which we are preparing them to live.

We must also consider children’s developmental issues. We know that both the way we present materials to children and their capacity to absorb the lessons are critical components. Balancing these two is delicate, but ignoring them risks doing more harm to the psyche than good.

I understand the desire to protect children, particularly from the gruesomeness of evil. And the Holocaust is unspeakably, unimaginably evil. But if we pretend the horror did not happen, or if we sanitize it, erasing the brutality, we have likely made the case against evil no more compelling than the choice of school lunch.

We need to be vigilant in the fight against anti-semitism, and it would not be surprising to learn that anti-semitism motivated some people in the discussion surrounding Maus. But even with that, we cannot turn away from the critical conversation about what we teach our children, not as facts, but as values and how we do it without inflicting harm or destroying the humanity we are trying to nurture.

In order to form a more perfect union, the work must continue

 

We the People of the United States, in order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.

 

חזק ועמץ   Strength and Courage

Shabbat Shalom and a Happy New Year

As 2021 comes to a close this Shabbat, 2022 begins. I share Amanda Gorman’s extraordinary poem, New Day’s Lyric.  As we leave the old year behind, may we be open to the possibilities that the new year can bring. Shabbat Shalom and Happy New Year.

 

 

“New Day’s Lyric”

May this be the day
We come together.
Mourning, we come to mend,
Withered, we come to weather,
Torn, we come to tend,
Battered, we come to better.
Tethered by this year of yearning,
We are learning
That though we weren’t ready for this,
We have been readied by it.
We steadily vow that no matter
How we are weighed down,
We must always pave a way forward.

This hope is our door, our portal.
Even if we never get back to normal,
Someday we can venture beyond it,
To leave the known and take the first steps.
So let us not return to what was normal,
But reach toward what is next.

What was cursed, we will cure.
What was plagued, we will prove pure.
Where we tend to argue, we will try to agree,
Those fortunes we forswore, now the future we foresee,
Where we weren’t aware, we’re now awake;
Those moments we missed
Are now these moments we make,
The moments we meet,
And our hearts, once all together beaten,
Now all together beat.

Come, look up with kindness yet,
For even solace can be sourced from sorrow.
We remember, not just for the sake of yesterday,
But to take on tomorrow.

We heed this old spirit,
In a new day’s lyric,
In our hearts, we hear it:
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
Be bold, sang Time this year,
Be bold, sang Time,
For when you honor yesterday,
Tomorrow ye will find.
Know what we’ve fought
Need not be forgot nor for none.
It defines us, binds us as one,
Come over, join this day just begun.
For wherever we come together,
We will forever overcome.

It’s about more than the Benjamins

The extraordinary philanthropic work depends on the generous giving of those supporting the vision.  Without money, these efforts cannot exist, and people who rely on their good works will go without them.

 

So, on this #GivingTuesday, we need to make sure that we support the causes we believe in.  So please give.

My mailbox is overwhelmed by people asking for dollars, and it is easy to become insensitive to the ask.  Those who only contact you when it is time to solicit funds might not resonate with you, but we still need to support the causes that touch our hearts.  So, reach out today and support your cause with what you can give.  They need your help.  And the act of giving feels good, which is something we can all use.

I wish everyone blessings of the Holiday season and a happy, healthy new year.

 

What is the right way to mourn?

In Judaism, it is pretty straightforward.  We have a series of rituals and traditions that serve to guide us.  But the answer is more nuanced depending in considerable measure on who you are and the relationship to the deceased.

Judaism compels us to “do the right thing.” It is one of our tradition’s great insights. Doing what we are supposed to do is affirming the bereaved’s humanity and sense of ethics.  Even if the relationship was fraught, Judaism provides the ability to rise above circumstances instead of becoming a victim to circumstances.

In this week’s Torah portion, Chayei Sarah, we read that when Sarah died, Abraham wept (Genesis 23:2).  But as is the case with Torah, there is more here than the words of the verse.  The Torah has one of the letters of the Hebrew word for wept, livkotah, the kaf, printed physically smaller than the other letters.  Our sages saw this as purposeful and concluded that this indicated that Abraham cried only a little.  Why would Abraham not weep fully?

Perhaps he was overcome by guilt, bearing responsibility for her death.  Midrashim tell of Sarah dying of a broken heart when she learns Abraham took their precious son Isaac and sacrificed to God on Mount Moriah.  And to further compound things, Abraham knows in his heart that he would do the same thing again to prove his loyalty to God.

There are many reasons why we are unable to be fully present when we experience loss.

For example, Abraham negotiated for the burial cave and immediately focused on sending his servant to find a wife for Isaac.  Most of us have experience with people focusing on funeral planning as a means of diversion from confronting the pain of loss.  And many people experience complicated grief or ambivalence over the death of someone ostensibly close.

Our tradition offers us a roadmap of sorts when for the process of death and grief.  My teacher Rabbi Dr. Michael Chernick wrote that we have obligations and responsibilities as the surviving loved one.  Whether we loved them or even liked them, whether they were good to us or not, for our own sake, we need to do certain things on behalf of those who die. So we learned that despite Abraham’s weeping, or lack thereof, he purchased the cave at Machpelah and buried Sarah there.

As a rabbi, I am often asked how do I bury my loved one correctly?  The fact that someone would ask means that, on some level, they already are.  Together we can explore ways to help them.

But that is different from dictating what to do or how to feel.  We have a framework.  The task is to understand how our tradition can provide the honor of the deceased and comfort for the bereaved.

Recently, two adult children asked me to officiate the unveiling for their father.  Then they changed their minds, cavalierly saying that as only a couple of prayers need to be spoken, they could do it without the expense of a rabbi in attendance.  Besides, he (their father) never would have won father of the year.

As I listened, I knew that they would honor their father, but I also knew they were about to miss out on that crucial second piece of our tradition’s wisdom, finding their comfort.  We spent some time talking as I was wearing my chaplain’s kippah.  But I didn’t press.  I hoped they might process the unveiling and the loss in a constructive way and bring them comfort and healing.

How do you process complicated grief?  Abraham demonstrates that the question has been around for a long time. So may we find comfort in our memories of those deceased as we embrace the idea that they may be for us a blessing.