Category: God

Shabbat Shalom

I share the wonderful rendition of Amazing Grace performed by Garth Brooks at the Inauguration.

This beautiful song is for all of us.  There was a time when Jews avoided this piece because of historic frictions.   But if we are brave enough, we can embrace the power, beauty, and majesty of the music as we march forward with all our brothers and sisters in love.

Shabbat Shalom

Shabbat Shalom

Sing a New Song is Psalm 96 that we sing as part of the welcoming of Shabbat in our Kabbalat Shabbat Service every Friday evening.

At this time, we are staying apart to guard against spreading the Corona Virus.  But we will emerge, hopefully using this time to reflect on who we are and what is truly important.  We will be singing a new song!

Enjoy Moshav’s rendition of Carelbach’s tune to the special words of the poem that is Psalm 96.

Shabbat Shalom!

Shabbat Shalom

Ana Bekoach is a mystical prayer employing the 42 letters of the name of God to create this mystical prayer. The acrostic is seven lines of six words each.  The prayer is attributed to Nechuniah dating back to second- century Israel.

Siddur Lev Shalem explains a particular phrase Tatir Tz’rurah, Undo the Knot, as perhaps referring to the exile in both its physical and spiritual sense.  As we enter Shabbat, we pray that all that has kept us physically and spiritually constrained give way; instead, we hope to begin experiencing the gentle expansiveness of Shabbat.  This plea reflects the mystical view that the forces of judgment, constriction, and negativity should not have power or authority on Shabbat.

Shabbat Shalom

 

 

 

Vayera – What did Abraham hear when God spoke?

I, like so many others, have struggled with Abraham’s responses to God in the stories of Vayera.  Why was our Patriarch eager to confront God and bargain to save Sodom and Gomorrah and then be so passively accepting of God’s command to kill Isaac?  Abraham responds to what he heard, a message filtered by his own biases and his perception of God, the other in this relationship.

In the Akedah, God instructs Abraham in painful detail, “Take your son, your only son, the one that you love, Isaac, go to Moriah and offer him as a burnt offering.”  God is carefully staking out Abraham’s test of faithfulness.  There is no room for a conversation. The Akedah is so intense; it is almost impossible for Abraham to catch his breath, let alone say something in response.   Although there is no conversation, the ensuing language makes it clear that the next three days, Abraham is thoroughly deliberate traveling to Mt. Moriah.  Abraham cannot deliberate with God, but it is clear he is consumed in his mind by what is to come.

Sodom and Gomorrah were decidedly different.  God deliberates about telling Abraham His plan, which included assessing the situation on the ground, framing an invitation to a conversation. Abraham joins in, and God encourages it by continuing to engage  Despite the trepidation of arguing with the God of Justice about acting justly, Abraham bargains to lower the number of righteous needed to spare the city until he reaches what he perceives as the best he can do, 10-  a minyan.  The negotiating ends with the best deal Abraham believes he can achieve.

How we hear and understand something sets the table for how we respond to it.  Why Abraham feels he has license to argue in one case and not in the other remains one of the mysteries of our text.  But it is all too familiar territory for all of us.  Each of us responds to what we think we have heard, rendering very different responses, even to the same person, based on the facts and our emotional and situation, among other factors.

What do we hear when another speaks?  Have they spoken undeniable truth, or is it an invitation to engage to achieve a better understanding of each other? Knowing when to speak and when to be silent is among the more difficult decisions we make.  Grappling with this issue is as hard for us as it was for Abraham.  Our tradition encourages us to confront it.

The practice of Mussar works hard at getting us to understand the virtues, or middot, that drive both the person with whom we are in relationship and us.  We learn that the successful relationship requires that we appreciate the middot are working on both of us so that it can be complicated.  We often do not get it right, but we stand a better chance of engaging in meaningful dialogue when we try. Abraham’s inconsistent reactions to God is a lesson with a timeless message, certainly one that is pertinent to today.  Torah is a profound understanding of the human condition.  The issues Abraham and all the characters of our tradition confront are genuinely human issues, as relevant today as they were when first written down.  Let’s try harder to listen better to understand each other.

Shabbat Shalom

 

The somber and painful message of Adult Purim

A person should drink on Purim until the point where he can’t tell the difference between “Blessed is Mordechai” and “Cursed is Haman. (Talmud – Megillah 7b) “Ad d’lo yada…”

Why do we drink so that we can no longer distinguish between the “Blessed” Mordechai and the “Cursed” Haman?  Perhaps because in this world of Purim where things are turned  upside down, the two men had changed places and toward the end of this story, it is impossible to distinguish between them.  And this serves as a warning for us to take great care in how we act.  The rabbis are admonishing us that underneath this story of triumph and joy lies an ominous message. 

Towards the end of the Megillah, the story takes a dark turn.  Briefly, the Jews are saved, Haman is hanged.  The King grants the Jews permission to annihilate anyone that poses a threat to them, including women and children and to plunder their possessions. Mordechai methodically plans the Jew’s revenge;  and the oppressor becomes the victim as the Jews dominate their enemies.  First in Shushan, the Jews killed 500 men and Haman’s 10 sons, then another 300 were killed, and then across the kingdom the Jews proceeded to kill seventy-five thousand more.  The death and destruction recounted is dreadful.  Jews slaughtering in retribution are as horrible as those actions Haman had planned.  Mordechai accomplishes what Haman had plotted. 

We are admonished to destroy the Amalekite, and Haman is a descendant of Amalek himself. But if we annihilate the enemy, even one who planned to annihilate us, aren’t we just as guilty of murder and bloodshed? It is not only the Amalek who lives as another that should concern us; A piece of Amalek lives inside all of us, call it the yetzer hara, or inclination toward evil.  Our yetzer tov, or inclination toward good, is always in competition with it.  Purim asks which of these will prevail in our lives?  At its core, the destruction of Amalek and the story of Purim are existential questions of our humanity.

And perhaps that is why we drink to oblivion.  Usually, we drink wine as a symbol of our joy.  But drinking to excess is something else entirely.  Heavy drinking is a form of self-medicating.  Drinking until losing rational senses is drinking to forget.  We drink heavily to escape the brutal reality.  Although our people were saved, we committed atrocities- not as a crime of passion,  but a deliberate plot to methodically exterminate tens of thousands of people.  We drink to forget our shame and horror at what we had done. 

To underscore this grave situation, the Gemara on Megillah 7b continues with the bizarre story of Rabba and Rabbi Zeira, where in a drunken stupor, Rabba slaughtered his dear friend Rabbi Zeira.  Otherwise good people can do profoundly terrible things.  This is what can happen when you lose control, when you lose sight of what is right, betray your core and operate in the absence of God (it is noteworthy that Megillat Esther does not mention God). And it is precisely here that the rabbis insert God back into the discussion as Zeira is resurrected after Rabba beseeches God to intervene and set right what Rabba had destroyed. 

When we arise from our stupor, we have a hangover; a brutal headache from the excesses of the night before.  We know that a hangover is an indication of dehydration, a lack of water , which further intensifies the message.  Water is a metaphor for Torah, and maybe it is the lack of Torah that permitted the carnage. 

Megillah Esther warns us to be very careful.  The Megillah  cautions us to not become “like them” and react to extract revenge, sacrificing both them and our humanity.  Megillat Esther challenges us instead to rise up with dignity and respect, embracing the values that have made Judaism the extraordinary gift to the world that it is.  

Purim is a layered complicated story filled with cause for celebration and sorrow and an profound admonitory note to soberly review who we are. 

If not now? A call for change on Yom Kippur

#4 What do we do now- Be Kind

 

We come to the Third part of Hillel’s quote: If not now, When? The answer is NOW.

I have refrained from speaking directly about Charlottesville with you thus far.

I am sure that the public display of hate deeply pained you.

The horrible chants, torch-lit marching, gun-toting thugs,

40 Jews inside Congregation Beth Israel that evening,

spiriting their Torahs out the back door, expecting the Temple to be burned, it sickens me.

 

The Nazi march was vile and despicable behavior by people who live on the fringes of our society,

a group that trucks in hatred,

truly disenfranchised miscreants who crawled out from the dark underbelly of this great nation

and are mired in their own bizarre fantasies of violence and white supremacy.

I am very angry and deeply saddened by this horrific display.

And I am equally appalled by the lack of moral leadership on this and all issues at the highest levels in our land.

However, I am not fearful.

And in response to the horrors of Charlottesville

I have a one-word reply:

Houston.

 

Charlottesville and many other places make it clear we have a long way to go in the battle for life, liberty, and equal justice for all.

Again I say Houston. For there in Houston, there is hope.

 

In response to the devastating Hurricane Harvey that dumped floodwaters of biblical proportions on the region,

the very best of humanity showed up to the rescue.

There were only two groups in the city:

The rescuers and those in need of rescue.

Race, religion, color, creed, age, sex, gender identification, political affiliation, economic class, social class-

Nothing mattered except the need to save lives of people.

The Cajun Navy spontaneously appeared, people helped people, human chains literally reaching out into the floodwaters,

holding tight to each other

so that another life could be saved from the torrents of water. Everyone was on both ends of that lifeline.

In losing everything, the people of Houston found something truly precious, their humanity.

My response to the horror of Charlottesville is the beauty of Houston.

We seem to be at our best in the aftermath of a calamity.

Houston, Sandyhook, 9/11- these are only a few catastrophes to which we have risen up as a people,

United in bonds of love and fellowship.

Why must we reserve our best in response to tragedy?

This Yom Kippur, I suggest we preemptively deploy our best behavior in our everyday lives.

 

Let us shine light into the darkness

and illumine a path that leads out of the narrow places,

the Mitzrayim- the Egypt- those spaces both literal and figurative that both confine and oppress us.

Let us join together doing acts of loving-kindness.

Let us not sit helplessly and lament the world we long for.

Let us reach out to one another and build the world that should be. Let the humanity of Houston be our inspiration.

 

 

Together let us march forward

carrying love in our hearts and good deeds in our arms.

We have come to the proverbial edge of the Red Sea,

yet one more time in our history. Let us cross over together.

 

(And if I sound a bit like a Southern Baptist preacher, I can only say, Thanks, Grandma.)

 

How do we do this?

For you may say, I am only a single individual-

what effect can I possibly have?

I recall the story told of Mother Theresa,

that saint who tended the poorest of the poor in India.

A cynic asked her how she intended to feed the overwhelming masses who were hungry- she responded simply,

One Mouth at a Time.

And that is how we do it.

Each of us has the power to effect change.

The V’ahavta prayer says VeLo Taturu.

Never underestimate the power to make a difference- each of us.

It is about meeting people, one person at a time.

It is about individuals building relationships with one another

and building these connections into bigger connections,

building a community with shared values and purpose.

And it all starts with one simple idea: You.

 

Rabbi Hillel says in Pirkei Avot,

“In a place where there are no men, strive to be a man.”

As Jeffrey Goldberg of the Atlantic insightfully translates,

it means to be a mature, courageous human being;

it also means to be a mensch. So I sum it up and say simply to you: Be Kind.

 

In an age and culture where we have become coarse and combative,

BE KIND.

In a world filled with overwhelming loneliness and alienation,

BE KIND.

In a world quick to cynically chastise and separate with fractiousness and divisiveness,

BE KIND.

Hillel condensed all Torah to this:

“What is hateful to you, do not do to another.”

BE KIND. This as our call to action.

 

Start with yourself.

Let us free ourselves from the shackles of guilt and sin keeping us mired in the past.

Learn from it to live next year better.

Be kind and forgiving of your self. Starting now.

Promise yourself to engage.

 

Jews are taught to awake with the words “I am Thankful.”

“Modeh Ani Lifanecha, Elohai Nishama Shenatati bi tihora hi.” ‘Thank you God for restoring my pure soul.”

What a beautiful intention to start the day.

A fresh slate, built on gratitude for our blessings

and hopeful for the possibilities that await us.

Use the day to engage in the things that motivate you- your Why. Actively support something you believe in,

a philanthropy or a cause,

be part of something greater than yourself.

 

End your day with a bedtime Shema- prayer.

Go to sleep knowing

you are in the sheltering arms of the One who loves and protects you.

 

Nurture your relationships.

Be compassionate and forgiving; for they too are as flawed, seeking wholeness and love.

BE KIND.

 

Find your community and

BE KIND.

We need a caring community to support and comfort us

During times of celebration and sorrow.

Temple Micah is an extraordinary community to find people with shared values.

And together we can make a difference

rising up our voices as one,

speaking with more power than one alone to affect greater change. Give to the food bank,

give to help the suffering victims on Puerto Rico.

BE KIND.

 

Our greater communities, both our nation and the world,

need people to champion our values now more than ever.

Your voice, your time and your money are all necessary

to champion the things you believe in.

There is no shortage of need, and we cannot be silent.

 

“Kol Arevim Zeh BaZeh.”

All Israel is responsible for each other.

Whether you see Israel literally or metaphorically,

you can make a difference in

the genocide of the Rohingya, happening as we speak,

climate change, Israel, healthcare, the political debate both national and local.

These issues are our issues.

Find the one that resonates with your and pursue it.

 

We need to build a better world.

I believe it can happen.

But only if we are willing to roll up our sleeves and do the work necessary,

for it cannot happen on its own.

As it says in Psalm 89 verses 3,

Olam Chesed Yibaneh. “We will build this world with love.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jewish Love is not romantic love.

We learn Jewish love in the Shema and V’ahavta prayer.

Love is an active verb.

Jewish love is not a state of being, it is a state of doing.

The prayer instructs us to Love God by living the commandments, teaching them to our children

and fully embracing them in all of our thoughts and actions.

Jewish wisdom sees the Heart as the guide to emotion and action.   I am the change I want to see.

This is the empowering message of the Torah.

It implores us to embrace that

only through our own action will we begin to build the world that should be.

 

The people of our nation have always had to fight for the values we hold dear;

from the moment we first expressed them through the present day. This amazing country of ours is both resilient and great.

But we remain a work in progress with a long way to go before all of her children will enjoy the aspirations of our foundational documents, including the Declaration of Independence, the Bill of Rights and Emma Lazarus’s poem on the Statue of Liberty.

Life, liberty, and equal justice for all remain the promise we still strive to achieve.

This promise is the beacon of light shining from on top of the hill to the other nations of the world.

We will build this nation on love.

Olam Chesed Yibaneh. We will build this world on love.

 

As we move toward the end of our prayers today

we will hear that the gates are closing and also

that the gates of repentance are never closed.

These two seemingly contradicting ideas both live in our texts.

I believe that with Ne’ilah, our closing prayers,

the liturgists are exhorting us to act.

It is the urgency of now. We cannot wait.

The prophetic tradition that is ours,

The fragility of life that makes each day a gift-

they combine to say “don’t wait another minute.”

So here is this sacred space, as we conclude our services this day,

I encourage everyone here to smile at one another,

kiss and embrace your loved ones,

and kiss and embrace whoever is near you.

This is the start of something new.

We will build this world with love.

 

G’mar Tov- May you be sealed for Good

Olam Chesed Yibaneh  (sing)