Enduring Life lessons come from how we live- A message from Nitzavim

If you could choose your last words or final deeds, what would they be?

In Nitzavim, the portion we are about to read, Moses uses his final moments to share his parting thoughts with us– the final words that will linger in the hearts and minds of those there after he is gone.

 Choose life.  It is here.  It is now.   But the truth of it is, we really do not know for how long.  As we read in the Unataneh Tokef prayer, death comes in many forms, and we have been rather creative in coming up with a list.  We can only hope and pray for life and health.  But deep down, we all know that inevitable end of our physical life lurks waiting.

 I have had occasion to be with a family who knew death was coming.  The mother had some months to prepare; her cancer would not be stopped. I was with a family where the death of the father was completely unexpected.  A massive coronary took him in the middle of is regular bike ride with his wife.

Perhaps you might think that the first instance is easier.  You know it is coming, you can say goodbye, settle your affairs; prepare those you will leave behind.  Whereas when someone is taken in a moment, there is and no time at all.  It is abrupt and harsh.

 The truth is that no matter how you might try to prepare, it is merely an intellectual exercise.  Emotionally the pain of loss is just as jarring and real in the moment it comes.  So if we do not know the how or the when of it, you might be wondering if what I am talking about isn’t itself just an intellectual exercise.  How is it possible to plan when we don’t know how to measure what is left in days or in years?

 We have the opportunity to impart our final words through both words and deeds every single day. Truth be told, we do not share our final message in the final moments of our lives. That is not the time.  It is hard to think clearly, if you wrote it down, you likely you left it in your desk in another room, or your glasses are upstairs, so you cannot read your notes anyway!

 There is a Midrash about Jacob on his deathbed, surrounded by his children, wondering if he left them with the truly important lessons.  They responded with “Shema Israel, Adonai Eloheynu, Adonai echad” Hear oh Israel the Lord our God the Lord is one.  Given that Jacob’s name was changed to Israel, an alternative translation might be:

“Dad, you taught us your lesson well and we heard you.”

 I met an extraordinary man during an overnight rotation working as a hospital chaplain. I went to Jim’s room intending to console a grieving family.  But consolation was not going to happen. Jim was an organ donor and the Gift of Life team was preparing to bring life to several people who would benefit from Jim’s heart, lungs, liver and even his corneas. The people at Jim’s bedside were celebrating the man who continued to live and embody the ideals that made him beloved even after he was gone.

 Similarly, the funeral for our friend on his bike was a celebration of his life.  Each eulogy lovingly shared the joy of being counted as a friend.  And the woman, who had the time to prepare; that was my mom.  And I try to live by her values that still live inside me.

 Moses is about to tell us, “Lo BaShamiyim hi!”  It is not in the heavens, or someplace else out of reach, like your desk drawer.   We revere Moses not for his parting words alone, but for the gifts he gave us throughout his life.  And likewise for us, it is in the things we say and do everyday that makes the difference and endures as our legacy.

 Moses words still ring true; Not only is it completely within our grasp, it starts the moment we decide it to be so.  Let that time be now.  Take the hand of the person sitting next to you, whether it is someone you know or a complete stranger.    Take their hand for just a moment, look at them and smile, and together let us listen to the words of Nitzavim.

Finding Ourselves and God- a Message from Isaiah

It’s like Déjà vu all over again.  Yes, I am again quoting from one of my favorite American Philosophers, Yogi Berra.  Here we are, back in this familiar place. “Is this the fast I desire?” cries God through his prophet Isaiah. For those of you paying attention, you will notice that this is precisely the Torah Portion we read last year. 

 It is said that a definition of insanity is to repeat the same thing over and over again, hoping that “this time will be different,” like re-watching the movie Titanic and hoping the boat doesn’t sink.  But this is looking back at the past.

 We know that we cannot change the past.  Instead we look to the future and seek change there. During the High Holidays, we do not only about ask forgiveness for past bad behaviors; but we also believe we can learn from our mistakes and resolve to do better.  We will do T’shuva and the future will be great. But the Haftarah tells us it is really not about the future either.  For in reality, we cannot control that which has yet to happen any more than we can control that which has already occurred.  Isaiah is really all about the now– the present– this very moment.  Here and now, we can make a change.

That is why I am so excited about the initiative that Rabbi Straus announced last week in his sermon.  We have all received the envelopes to commit to supporting groups such as the West Philadelphia Alliance for Children, HIAS refugee resettlement, and the Calvary Baptist Church in West Philly, dedicated to improving the lives of our neighbors who do not share our many blessings.  We can do something today by writing a check and becoming involved.  Reform Judaism has always embraced that we are fully engaged in the community and world around us.  We at Main Line Reform Temple have decided to make this a reality in a most amazing way. And I am honored and thrilled to be part of a community that is willing to engage in such an extraordinary practice.  So please give generously however you are able.

Isaiah makes it clear that before we can be in relationship with God, we first must be in relationship with the other, other people not just those like ourselves, but the poor, the homeless, hungry those who do not share our many blessings, but those who remind us that in someway, we are broken too.  In his song Anthem, Leonard Cohen’s poetry expresses it  well:

        Ring the bells that can still ring

         Forget your perfect offering

         There is a crack, a crack in everything,

         That’s how the light gets in.

 Our giving is part of the inspiration and aspiration that is the core message of the High Holidays.  The actions we undertake today will make the life of someone needy just a little bit better.  And then, the future for all of us shines brighter.  When we embrace Isaiah’s call to act in this way, we indeed are on the path towards the fast that God desires.

*  This was the d’var Torah delivered at Main Line Reform Temple on Yom Kippur 5774

Central Conference of American Rabbis Statement Concerning Syria

September 12, 2013

The Central Conference of American Rabbis condemns the Assad regime’s use of chemical weapons to kill more than 1400 persons, including some 400 children, as a violation of international law and a crime against humanity. As Jews, we are well acquainted with a tyrannical regime’s use of lethal gas to commit mass murder and of the failure of democratic governments to intervene.

The CCAR applauds the President’s decision to respond to the Syrian authorities’ illegal and morally reprehensible conduct and to seek the complete, prompt, and verifiable removal of chemical weapons from Syria by means of diplomacy, if possible, before resorting to the use of military force.

We reaffirm the principle that the use of force should be undertaken with utmost reluctance, only when reasonable alternatives have been exhausted or prove unavailable.

We call on other governments throughout the world to join the effort to ensure that Syria does not commit another such atrocity.

We believe that effective action regarding the Assad regime’s use of chemical weapons is essential to deter the use of weapons of mass destruction by others and reinforce the credibility of U.S. policy concerning such weapons.

We support the firm and unequivocal determination of the President and Congress to prevent Iran from developing or obtaining nuclear weapons.

We express our deep concern for the State of Israel and its citizens, who have been threatened with retaliation in the event of American military action, and reaffirm the CCAR’s steadfast support for Israel’s right to defend its citizens from all who seek to harm them.

We yearn for the arrival of “the days to come” that Isaiah foresaw, when nations “will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks: Nation shall not take up sword against nation; they shall never again know war.”

We pray that the Jewish New Year, recently begun, will see the dawning of peace for the entire human family.

 

Rabbi Richard A. Block, President
Rabbi Steven Fox, Chief Executive, and
CCAR Board of Trustees

 

Syria- An American Jewish Perspective

If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound?

Ha’azinu- The name of this week’s parashah means to LISTEN IN

In his final moments, Moses sings a song to the people.  He calls upon Heaven and Earth to be witnesses to remember the extraordinary blessings of how God found Israel in the desert, shaped them into a people and chose them as his own.

But the blessings make us complacent, and we turn our backs on the very God who provided all that we have.  And in response, God “hides his face.” We suffer as a result of our own actions.  But there is the promise that God will be reconciled with his people.  That is the message of hope.

This message rings so true today and so desperately needs to be heard.

As a nation, we are war weary.  Iraq and Afghanistan have taken a horrible heavy toll.  These long protracted wars have left us wondering why we did what we did and to what effect?  Was it all worth it? The toll in the precious lives of our men and women that served, the incalculable cost and even our moral standing in the world.  I have long believed in the American ideals; that freedom and truth and democracy were the American shining beacons upon the world- the lights unto the nations.  But these lights flicker, the result of so much we have done in the harsh realpolitik of the global stage in the beginning of this century and the century before that.

We are not the world’s policemen. But on some level, the relative stability that world has enjoyed is a Pax Americana, maintained by the dominance of the worlds only superpower projecting its influence across the globe.  And despite the cynicism, the byproduct of protecting economic and political self-interest, our guiding principles still echo in our hearts and minds, principles that focus on protecting those who are not empowered or capable of doing so themselves.  As Americans and as Jews we are compelled to respond to the travesties and tragedies that so completely offend our sacred sensibilities and values.

As Jews we are uniquely attuned to the issues of power.  Our Jewish tradition has been built on a system of ethics and morals- what we should do, what we are obligated to do, because we have historically often found ourselves outside the protection of power or civil society.  We are charged to care for the poor, to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, house the homeless because these are the people that are the vulnerable and powerless amongst us, the most ill-equipped to care for themselves

We listen to the cries of suffering of the common people of Syria as they find themselves the victims of the brutal civil war that rages.  100,000 people are dead.  Millions have fled seeking safe haven from the death and destruction that rains down indiscriminately.  Women, children, and men it makes no difference.  Fighter or Innocent bystander, it makes no difference.

The war seems to descend lower and lower into more vicious and more brutal attacks.  Sarin gas has been used and an estimated 400 children maybe 1500 adults have been murdered.  Although the numbers are not clear, the effects are.  The sound of death is excruciating; the whimper of someone struggling for breath, the moan of someone whose body is racked by pain.  Gas or bomb- a slow agonizing death is a horrible thing.

The use of chemical weapons is particularly deplorable.  But, I do not think the red line was using chemical weapons.  To me the red line is to exterminate people in the name of political power.  That line was crossed years ago.  That line resonates within me and within every Jew.  We often ask, “Why didn’t the allies stop the holocaust?”  If they only destroyed the train tracks leading to the death camps, conceivably millions could have been saved.  The world turned a blind eye and a deaf ear to the pleas of 12 million victims whose only crime was they were Jews or Catholics or gays or gypsies, or the physically or mentally handicapped.  Can we continue to be deaf?

I do not know what a punitive strike against the Assad regime means.  I know that the politics of action are complicated and the potential ramifications are ominous. But the results of our inaction are equally problematic.   Assad is no friend of the US or Israel and those seeking to topple him are likewise.  So to ask if intervention directly serves American security interests, the answer is likely no.  But if we instead ask the question: “can we stop the barbaric bloodshed?” Then the answer is “maybe so.”  Stopping the barbaric bloodshed however will serve an important political interest however;  for the millions streaming across the border have a hugely de-stabilizing effect on Jordan, Turkey and thereby also threatening Israel.   It is my sincerest hope that President Obama speaks to the nation this Tuesday evening cogently and honestly explaining what it is his proposed military intervention is expected to do. We deserve to hear no less.

There was a time when I thought a Bosnia-like approach to intervention could have forced the war-makers on both sides into neutral corners and saved civilian lives.  But our current redline and subsequent delay until everyone is in agreement makes the military option much less viable with every passing day.  The open debate is important, but it changes and limits the effective options available.

Assad is Russia’s ally.  We might be able to push Putin to replace his current dictator with another dictator.  Although Putin may not be predisposed to listening, we could make rather persuasive arguments, ones that might resonate. Hopefully that was part of the private discussion today between Presidents Putin and Obama in St. Petersburg.  And if the United Nations Security Council is immobilized, we can still rally a substantial portion of the international community.  Whatever we do, our commitment must be to the voices of the victims whose voices cannot be heard.  We must answer the question: “What can we do to save the innocents?”

If we only are concerned with protecting American security or economic interests, then intervention in this place and the great American experiment is nothing but an exercise in selfish world dominance that will surely end as every empire before it has ended.  But I believe the American experiment remains noble of purpose.  It is grounded in the ideals that the individual has value, honor and dignity; that each person has a voice to be heard.  The peal of freedom’s bell can and still does cry out.  If only we would listen.

What is prayer? Lessons from Channah

Why do we pray?

The Haftarah portion for today is taken from the Book of Samuel.  This is the story of a barren woman, Channah,  one of two wives of a man named Elkanah.  Elkanah loves Channah and tries to show her affection.  But this is insufficient for Channah and she goes to Shiloh to pray for a son who she would dedicate to God’s service.

What is it to Pray?

Is it asking for something?

God I want a pony.

I have a vision akin to sitting on the lap of a giant Santa Claus asking for stuff-

A new iPhone, maybe a new Audi convertible or

if you like cooking gadgets as I do,

a new Vitamix 7500.

Stuff that makes us feel good on the surface- But this is a rather pediatric view of how God fits into our lives.

 

A more sophisticated version of prayer is to seek connection;

to reach out,  wishing someone you love will be healthy,

that the distance we often feel from another person will be bridged

and we are reconciled.

Prayer is to admit a feeling of emptiness or a void and a yearning for it to be filled.

Channah’s story is fascinating.  She yearns for a child.  The void is in her life is both spiritual and physical.  Her husband, clueless, as many of us are, tries to assuage her with baubles.  He even lavishes attention on her.  But none of this can penetrate beyond the surface and is essentially meaningless to Channah. She turns to prayer.

 

Prayer is actually difficult, it is uncomfortable because it requires of us to be vulnerable.

We must bare our soul- to God and to ourselves.

We must look into the mirror, as it were,

and see that in the cold harsh light of reality,

the reflection we see is not as beautiful or perfect as we pretend.

That new vitamix is a great toy, but if I do not have someone to cook for

it is just another expensive gadget collecting dust on the countertop.

 

So Channah prays a fervent prayer.  And as if to emphasize the point, our great prophet Eli mistakes this woman for a drunkard and harshly rebukes her.

But the prayer Channah prays gives her strength,

she becomes resolute enough, comfortable enough in her own skin, not to accept the scorn of the Prophet and speak in his presence explaining herself.  It turns Eli’s heart.

 

Prayer is powerful it can be awesome and even frightening.

Do we have the courage and inner strength

to look honestly inside ourselves and see truth,

our unvarnished reality with its shortcomings and desires unfulfilled?

It is hard and scary,

but if we are willing to try,

the results can be extraordinary.

And now we read the story of Channah.