Time and life
require us
to move forward.
We may find
ourselves
looking at
past choices and
crucial decisions
with, in some cases, pride,
and in others, regret.
We may believe
that we can fix
and redeem
mistakes and
errors in judgment
by using the same strategy
with minor modifications.
Sometimes, the lesson
we must learn
is that we must adopt
a totally new approach,
using newly-found wisdom
to fashion a different
foundation in our thinking.
To do so, we may need
to listen more intently
to the many voices
inside of ourselves
in order to find
a healthy combination
of head and heart,
rather than just one or the other.
Like Moses, we need to be brave and persistent.
Like Aaron, we must have words at our command that tell our story and clearly reveal our desires, even our demands
of ourselves and others.
Like Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.,
whom we remember this month,
we need to find our dream,
our goal, and try to reach it
in a way that is peaceful
and hopeful
with words and actions
that can bring about change
because the ultimate aim itself
speaks to the core of
human decency and goodness.
As Moses and Aaron continued to cry to Pharaoh and all of Egypt,
“Let my people go!”
the people themselves
had to let go of the mindset
of a slave
one step at a time
So that when their day of liberty came, they would be ready
to focus on a future of freedom
rather than
harboring bitterness and hatred
at those who had so ruthlessly
oppressed them.
Every community
has an opportunity
to choose to move forward
with determination and hope,
looking at the new reality
of the present
recognize how it can lead
to the creation of a bright future
founded on generosity of spirit,
understanding and hope.
May we face the coming days
as one community
and along with all humanity
moving forward
together.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Reaching Higher - December 23, 2010
The sun was hot.
As taskmasters stood over them, the people attended to the work that had been forced upon them.
They could hear cries of agony around them,
And the calls of the foremen, chastising them for lack of energy
and for their supposedly slow progress.
Was this the life their recent ancestors had expected when they came to Egypt?
Was this the hallmark of this great civilization, building monuments
on the backs of slaves who were accorded no human dignity?
Still, when the day was over, the workers would return to their homes.
While they could not totally forget the toil of the past hours,
They took comfort in being one community.
From almost forgotten memories of preceding generations, they knew
That someone might arise again, like Joseph, to save them,
Or that someone like Jacob, who received his name Israel,
Meaning “one who struggles with God,”
Might help them find strength to face their own challenges
as their bondage grew more intense with each passing day.
One day, they caught a glimpse of a man who was one from among their people
Who, they heard, had grown up in among Egyptian royalty
And was now making his case to Pharaoh to end their servitude.
His protestations made their work even more difficult.
They didn’t know if they should hate him for the proclamation
Which he said came from their God, “Let My people go!”
Or, if they should be thankful that someone was trying to bring them hope
And strength and faith that a time of suffering and pain could end
And that they could once again live in dignity and freedom.
As they attended to their work day after day, some of them began to sense
A spark of optimism welling up inside of them,
A feeling that slavery was not the ultimate destiny of their people.
Some began to be grateful for this new leader and put all of their faith in him
And in the God for whom he said he spoke
But others realized that liberation would only begin
When they themselves, within their souls, began to imagine the freedom they deserved.
That was truly the beginning of their own liberty
When, even in a sea of cruelty,
They still could ascend, within themselves and, perhaps, along with others around them,
To a place that was higher and holy.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
As taskmasters stood over them, the people attended to the work that had been forced upon them.
They could hear cries of agony around them,
And the calls of the foremen, chastising them for lack of energy
and for their supposedly slow progress.
Was this the life their recent ancestors had expected when they came to Egypt?
Was this the hallmark of this great civilization, building monuments
on the backs of slaves who were accorded no human dignity?
Still, when the day was over, the workers would return to their homes.
While they could not totally forget the toil of the past hours,
They took comfort in being one community.
From almost forgotten memories of preceding generations, they knew
That someone might arise again, like Joseph, to save them,
Or that someone like Jacob, who received his name Israel,
Meaning “one who struggles with God,”
Might help them find strength to face their own challenges
as their bondage grew more intense with each passing day.
One day, they caught a glimpse of a man who was one from among their people
Who, they heard, had grown up in among Egyptian royalty
And was now making his case to Pharaoh to end their servitude.
His protestations made their work even more difficult.
They didn’t know if they should hate him for the proclamation
Which he said came from their God, “Let My people go!”
Or, if they should be thankful that someone was trying to bring them hope
And strength and faith that a time of suffering and pain could end
And that they could once again live in dignity and freedom.
As they attended to their work day after day, some of them began to sense
A spark of optimism welling up inside of them,
A feeling that slavery was not the ultimate destiny of their people.
Some began to be grateful for this new leader and put all of their faith in him
And in the God for whom he said he spoke
But others realized that liberation would only begin
When they themselves, within their souls, began to imagine the freedom they deserved.
That was truly the beginning of their own liberty
When, even in a sea of cruelty,
They still could ascend, within themselves and, perhaps, along with others around them,
To a place that was higher and holy.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Friday, December 17, 2010
Sacred Sites - December 17, 2010
Shabbat Shalom!
During our trip to Kansas City/Topeka last weekend (where we took part in a Father/Daughter B’nei Mitzvah in Topeka), Rhonda and I had the chance to make one of our periodic drives through my hometown to briefly revisit my past. The path took us by my elementary school, the house I grew up (right by the school), my high school, and, finally, to visit the graves of my parents, Joseph and Ruth Karol. That cemetery was originally adjacent to Congregation B’nai Jehudah in Kansas City, which moved to a new location in Overland Park, Kansas in 2002. This is one way we have to “see my parents,” so to speak, other than through photographs and memories. We stood by their graves for a few moments, perhaps waiting to hear some sage advice, but mainly, we felt the cold breeze moving through Rose Hill Cemetery. We hold that place as sacred, and we hope to return their whenever we have the opportunity. It is meaningful to me that my parents are buried in the shadow of the former Temple site where they were so involved in building community within the congregation which offered me important beginnings in my lifelong path of developing my personal and Jewish identity.
In the Torah reading for this week, Joseph and his entire extended family, having settled in Egypt, at least temporarily, made a return visit to their family’s roots. Their father Jacob died, and they knew what they had to do to give him a proper burial. The entire family, plus a very large entourage of Egyptian officials, traveled to Hebron, to the Cave of the Machpelah, the burial plot that would become known, eventually, as the “Tomb of the Patriarchs.” We could imagine that this experience of revisiting their origins had a great impact on Jacob’s children and grandchildren, as well as on the Egyptian leadership who had joined them. It was not only the site that had significance for them, but also the stories and memories of past generations that formed the beginnings of their family history, as well as the relationships that drew the family together. It is likely that Jacob’s burial strengthened the ties of his entire family to the land to which Abraham had journey three (and four) generations before, a land to which they would return only after emerging with rediscovered freedom from a long and difficult experience as slaves in Egypt.
It is likely that all of us have places that are sacred and special in our lives which reflect our personal and family history, the story of the web of our relationships, and moments when we took significant steps towards who we are now. Whatever those places may be, may they offer us strength, hope and inspiration as we revisit them in person or in our mind’s eye.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
During our trip to Kansas City/Topeka last weekend (where we took part in a Father/Daughter B’nei Mitzvah in Topeka), Rhonda and I had the chance to make one of our periodic drives through my hometown to briefly revisit my past. The path took us by my elementary school, the house I grew up (right by the school), my high school, and, finally, to visit the graves of my parents, Joseph and Ruth Karol. That cemetery was originally adjacent to Congregation B’nai Jehudah in Kansas City, which moved to a new location in Overland Park, Kansas in 2002. This is one way we have to “see my parents,” so to speak, other than through photographs and memories. We stood by their graves for a few moments, perhaps waiting to hear some sage advice, but mainly, we felt the cold breeze moving through Rose Hill Cemetery. We hold that place as sacred, and we hope to return their whenever we have the opportunity. It is meaningful to me that my parents are buried in the shadow of the former Temple site where they were so involved in building community within the congregation which offered me important beginnings in my lifelong path of developing my personal and Jewish identity.
In the Torah reading for this week, Joseph and his entire extended family, having settled in Egypt, at least temporarily, made a return visit to their family’s roots. Their father Jacob died, and they knew what they had to do to give him a proper burial. The entire family, plus a very large entourage of Egyptian officials, traveled to Hebron, to the Cave of the Machpelah, the burial plot that would become known, eventually, as the “Tomb of the Patriarchs.” We could imagine that this experience of revisiting their origins had a great impact on Jacob’s children and grandchildren, as well as on the Egyptian leadership who had joined them. It was not only the site that had significance for them, but also the stories and memories of past generations that formed the beginnings of their family history, as well as the relationships that drew the family together. It is likely that Jacob’s burial strengthened the ties of his entire family to the land to which Abraham had journey three (and four) generations before, a land to which they would return only after emerging with rediscovered freedom from a long and difficult experience as slaves in Egypt.
It is likely that all of us have places that are sacred and special in our lives which reflect our personal and family history, the story of the web of our relationships, and moments when we took significant steps towards who we are now. Whatever those places may be, may they offer us strength, hope and inspiration as we revisit them in person or in our mind’s eye.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
A View from the Heights - December 6, 2010
However we tell the story of Chanukah, one of the central aspects of the Maccabean victory for religious freedom was the nature of their cause. Part of their struggle was focused on the tyranny of the Syrian-Greek rulers who sought to eliminate the Judaism from their realm in order to unite the entire population of the Seleucid Empire under a banner of Greek thought, faith and culture. The other component of this conflict was that Jews who had totally adopt Greek customs had sided with the Seleucid rulers against the Maccabees and the many Jews of Judea who believed that they should have the right to be different, to retain their identity and heritage. The original tale, as recounted in the books of the Maccabees, and the “miracle story” we know so well from the Talmud (one day’s supply of oil burned for eight days), asserts that it was dedication to a higher purpose – acknowledging and celebrating God’s presence in their lives - that led the Jews of Judea to triumph in their struggle for freedom.
The Torah readings for last week and this week feature the touching narrative of the reunion of Joseph and his brothers and their subsequent reconciliation. In his conversations with his brothers as they again became a family, Joseph reiterated time and again that everything had happened for a reason: that it was God who had put him where he needed (as second to Pharaoh in Egypt) to be able to save his family from the throes of the famine in their land. However, he did not see himself as the hero of the situation. He was merely a conduit, enabling the divine plan for his family’s survival to unfold. Where it seemed, at the beginning of his story, that Joseph was full of himself and his ego, he was, as he reconciled with his brothers, filled with a sense of the higher purpose to which his dreams had led him and his family.
There are always higher purposes and causes to which we can dedicate ourselves: freedom, hospitality, friendship, strength of community, and local and global peace. In his book, I’M GOD, YOU’RE NOT, which I just began reading, Rabbi Lawrence Kushner makes the point time and again that we are at our best when we realize that life isn’t always about us individually, but, rather, about seeing ourselves as one member of a team, whether that team is a family, a congregation, a city, a nation or all humanity. This relates to what we might call the “altruistic impulse,” and it is also connected to the times when we say the Shema. When we declare that God is one, whether we are alone or at Temple, we become a part of Oneness of the universe, in which our uniqueness takes its rightful place in the greater whole. As we move forward in the coming months to find new ways to sustain our community and congregation, let us remember the higher purposes that can guide us on a sacred path.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
The Torah readings for last week and this week feature the touching narrative of the reunion of Joseph and his brothers and their subsequent reconciliation. In his conversations with his brothers as they again became a family, Joseph reiterated time and again that everything had happened for a reason: that it was God who had put him where he needed (as second to Pharaoh in Egypt) to be able to save his family from the throes of the famine in their land. However, he did not see himself as the hero of the situation. He was merely a conduit, enabling the divine plan for his family’s survival to unfold. Where it seemed, at the beginning of his story, that Joseph was full of himself and his ego, he was, as he reconciled with his brothers, filled with a sense of the higher purpose to which his dreams had led him and his family.
There are always higher purposes and causes to which we can dedicate ourselves: freedom, hospitality, friendship, strength of community, and local and global peace. In his book, I’M GOD, YOU’RE NOT, which I just began reading, Rabbi Lawrence Kushner makes the point time and again that we are at our best when we realize that life isn’t always about us individually, but, rather, about seeing ourselves as one member of a team, whether that team is a family, a congregation, a city, a nation or all humanity. This relates to what we might call the “altruistic impulse,” and it is also connected to the times when we say the Shema. When we declare that God is one, whether we are alone or at Temple, we become a part of Oneness of the universe, in which our uniqueness takes its rightful place in the greater whole. As we move forward in the coming months to find new ways to sustain our community and congregation, let us remember the higher purposes that can guide us on a sacred path.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
In the Lights - December 1, 2010
What do you see when you look into the Chanukah lights?
The first light is a beginning, an act of faith that this initial step of dedication to fulfilling this mitzvah will inspire us to complete tasks we begin.
The second light reflects companionship, as two candles stand side by side with the shamash looking on (almost as if the shamash represents the light of God shining upon us).
The third light signifies the beginning of community. Ecclesiastes tells us that two are better than one and that three are better than two (in sustaining a business or a community)! Three can often generate what two might not be able to accomplish.
The fourth light represents progress towards a goal, the halfway point from which we can look back upon how far we have come and from which we look forward to the experiences that await us.
The fifth light illustrates our persistence and focus on goals we have set for ourselves or for an entire community, as we recall the persistence required of the Maccabees in their fight for religious and political freedom.
The sixth light offers a hint of the warmth to come from the care that we have shown in lighting the Chanukiah, the same care, concern and warmth that can sustain a family, community or congregation.
The seventh light is a harbinger of hope that we have “made it this far” in our Chanukah journey and can see the culmination of our dedication in sight. Such hope can sustain us in all aspects of our lives.
The eighth light brings together joy, wonder, amazement and a feeling of accomplishment. Every night, besides reciting the blessings, we might read the prayer Haneirot Halalu, “these lights are holy.” May we find during Chanukah and throughout the year sacred moments that bring to mind and heart all of these values.
Happy Chanukah to all, from our home to yours!
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Chains of Events - November 24, 2010
Joseph dreamed two dreams
which his brothers and his father thought
illustrated Joseph's arrogance in the present
rather than his fortuitous leadership
in the future.
Joseph had no idea
nor did his father
or his brothers
that sharing his dreams
would lead to a chain of events -
slavery, incarceration,
interpreting dreams
to being second only to Pharaoh –
which would ultimately
save the lives of their family.
Any event, decision, conversation or dream
can be a part of such a chain.
That is why every moment of our lives
can be significant, even crucial to our future.
We may only discover the importance of one episode
when looking back to the past,
but such reflection can enable us
to sharpen our vision for the days to come.
May those days see us turn division into unity
and challenge into promise.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
which his brothers and his father thought
illustrated Joseph's arrogance in the present
rather than his fortuitous leadership
in the future.
Joseph had no idea
nor did his father
or his brothers
that sharing his dreams
would lead to a chain of events -
slavery, incarceration,
interpreting dreams
to being second only to Pharaoh –
which would ultimately
save the lives of their family.
Any event, decision, conversation or dream
can be a part of such a chain.
That is why every moment of our lives
can be significant, even crucial to our future.
We may only discover the importance of one episode
when looking back to the past,
but such reflection can enable us
to sharpen our vision for the days to come.
May those days see us turn division into unity
and challenge into promise.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Come Together - November 18, 2010
Shabbat Shalom!
“Seeing your face is like seeing the face of God,”
said Jacob as he met his long-estranged brother Esau
for the first time in years.
Jacob felt that he knew what it was like to see God
from his mysterious wrestling match
with a “man” just before he crossed the Jabok River to face his brother.
Was this struggle all in his mind?
Was it real? Was it an angel? Was it God?
It didn’t matter, because the experience was real to him.
His struggle led to his new difficulty with walking due to a hip strain he had received
when he was alone, or, perhaps, not alone.
He had feared this reunion with his brother
because of the deceit to which he was a partner
that led to Jacob demanding the birthright of Esau
and taking the first-born son’s blessing with the help of his mother, Rebekah, who believed that Jacob’s destiny required drastic measure.
Jacob knew of Esau’s anger, and feared that he would not emerge
from this meeting alive.
Yet, as he saw Esau approaching, getting closer and closer,
he realized that there was something in Esau’s walk and his eyes
that reflected something other than hatred,
an assessment which was confirmed as the two brothers hugged and kissed.
Once Esau realized that he had all that he needed in life,
he was able to let go of the conflict with his brother
so that they could be in the same place once again
in a spirit of acceptance of each other’s individuality, and
perhaps, on some level, brotherly respect and love.
Jacob was still reluctant to reconcile enough to follow his brother and live alongside him after their meeting, but peace had finally been restored between the sons of Isaac.
As Jacob said, “seeing your face is like seeing the face of God,”
he acknowledged that touch of the divine in each person,
a realization which can, sometimes, lead to balance and equilibrium.
In communities, in families, and between nations,
conflicts may exist which are as serious as the tension between
Jacob and Esau, based in a past of mistrust and deceit, even hatred.
Like Esau and Jacob, when we accept ourselves as we are
and others as they are, we make room for the possibility
of an end to conflict and a beginning to renewed coexistence,
May we find such coexistence, even peace, in our lives and may our attitudes and actions lead to peace all around us.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
“Seeing your face is like seeing the face of God,”
said Jacob as he met his long-estranged brother Esau
for the first time in years.
Jacob felt that he knew what it was like to see God
from his mysterious wrestling match
with a “man” just before he crossed the Jabok River to face his brother.
Was this struggle all in his mind?
Was it real? Was it an angel? Was it God?
It didn’t matter, because the experience was real to him.
His struggle led to his new difficulty with walking due to a hip strain he had received
when he was alone, or, perhaps, not alone.
He had feared this reunion with his brother
because of the deceit to which he was a partner
that led to Jacob demanding the birthright of Esau
and taking the first-born son’s blessing with the help of his mother, Rebekah, who believed that Jacob’s destiny required drastic measure.
Jacob knew of Esau’s anger, and feared that he would not emerge
from this meeting alive.
Yet, as he saw Esau approaching, getting closer and closer,
he realized that there was something in Esau’s walk and his eyes
that reflected something other than hatred,
an assessment which was confirmed as the two brothers hugged and kissed.
Once Esau realized that he had all that he needed in life,
he was able to let go of the conflict with his brother
so that they could be in the same place once again
in a spirit of acceptance of each other’s individuality, and
perhaps, on some level, brotherly respect and love.
Jacob was still reluctant to reconcile enough to follow his brother and live alongside him after their meeting, but peace had finally been restored between the sons of Isaac.
As Jacob said, “seeing your face is like seeing the face of God,”
he acknowledged that touch of the divine in each person,
a realization which can, sometimes, lead to balance and equilibrium.
In communities, in families, and between nations,
conflicts may exist which are as serious as the tension between
Jacob and Esau, based in a past of mistrust and deceit, even hatred.
Like Esau and Jacob, when we accept ourselves as we are
and others as they are, we make room for the possibility
of an end to conflict and a beginning to renewed coexistence,
May we find such coexistence, even peace, in our lives and may our attitudes and actions lead to peace all around us.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Places - November 11, 2010
Shabbat Shalom!
“There are places I remember all my life, though some have changed.
Some forever, not for better, some have gone and some remained.
All these places have their moments with lovers and friends I still can recall.
Some are dead and some are living - In my life, I’ve loved them all.”
These lyrics by John Lennon and Paul McCartney (mainly John Lennon) make an immediate connection between the places that are significant in our lives, the moments associated with those places, and the people with whom we experienced those moments.
In the Torah reading for this week, Vayaytzay, Jacob began to learn about how a particular place can be associated with a pivotal moment in life. In fact, the word for place, MAKOM, figures prominently in the narrative:
“Coming upon a certain PLACE, Jacob passed the night there…taking one of the stones of the MAKOM/PLACE, he made it his head-rest.” After Jacob dreamed of a ladder reaching to the sky, with angels going up and down on it, he proclaimed: “Truly, the Eternal was in this MAKOM/PLACE, and I did not know it!” Finally, the Torah states that “he named the MAKOM/PLACE Bayt El-Abode/House of God.”
The root word for MAKOM is KUF-VAV-MEM, a root that means to arise, endure, sustain (as in V’KIY’MANU in the SHEHECHEYANU prayer), establish, and be fulfilled or realized. In addition to place, the word MAKOM itself can mean spot, existence or substance. While Jacob himself linked God to a specific MAKOM/PLACE, there is a rabbinic interpretation that associates God with every place: “Why do we call God MAKOM/THE PLACE? Because God is the preserver/existence/place of the world, but God’s world is not God’s existence/place.” The divine presence cannot be confined to any one world or even any particular spot in space or moment in time. MAKOM has come to be the name refers to God as being “omnipresent,” pervading the entire universe. That means that, in any place, or in any moment, we can find an imprint of God and a sign of our connection to all of creation. Like Jacob, we can come to recognize how a place or a moment may be special when we open our eyes and heart to the possibility of encountering the sacred, anytime and anywhere.
While sitting with my music colleagues at the Hava Nashira workshop at Olin-Sang-Ruby Union Institute Camp in Wisconsin a number of years ago, Cantor Ellen Dreskin asked us all, “Think about the first place you went when you were away from your parents for an extended period of time.” As I sat in the main house/BAYIT, I looked around and realized, “It was here…this was the place.” I had attended that very camp a few months before becoming Bar Mitzvah, and Ellen’s question added a deeper dimension to my long-past experience at that camp from that moment on: this was the place where I first established my independence.
Each of us is like Jacob (and the Beatles as well!) in saying that “there are places I remember….all these places had their moments.” Think about the places and experiences that were pivotal for you – let them give you strength and hope for the future, and allow them to open your eyes to see a divine hand gently touching you, offering support, encouragement and love.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
“There are places I remember all my life, though some have changed.
Some forever, not for better, some have gone and some remained.
All these places have their moments with lovers and friends I still can recall.
Some are dead and some are living - In my life, I’ve loved them all.”
These lyrics by John Lennon and Paul McCartney (mainly John Lennon) make an immediate connection between the places that are significant in our lives, the moments associated with those places, and the people with whom we experienced those moments.
In the Torah reading for this week, Vayaytzay, Jacob began to learn about how a particular place can be associated with a pivotal moment in life. In fact, the word for place, MAKOM, figures prominently in the narrative:
“Coming upon a certain PLACE, Jacob passed the night there…taking one of the stones of the MAKOM/PLACE, he made it his head-rest.” After Jacob dreamed of a ladder reaching to the sky, with angels going up and down on it, he proclaimed: “Truly, the Eternal was in this MAKOM/PLACE, and I did not know it!” Finally, the Torah states that “he named the MAKOM/PLACE Bayt El-Abode/House of God.”
The root word for MAKOM is KUF-VAV-MEM, a root that means to arise, endure, sustain (as in V’KIY’MANU in the SHEHECHEYANU prayer), establish, and be fulfilled or realized. In addition to place, the word MAKOM itself can mean spot, existence or substance. While Jacob himself linked God to a specific MAKOM/PLACE, there is a rabbinic interpretation that associates God with every place: “Why do we call God MAKOM/THE PLACE? Because God is the preserver/existence/place of the world, but God’s world is not God’s existence/place.” The divine presence cannot be confined to any one world or even any particular spot in space or moment in time. MAKOM has come to be the name refers to God as being “omnipresent,” pervading the entire universe. That means that, in any place, or in any moment, we can find an imprint of God and a sign of our connection to all of creation. Like Jacob, we can come to recognize how a place or a moment may be special when we open our eyes and heart to the possibility of encountering the sacred, anytime and anywhere.
While sitting with my music colleagues at the Hava Nashira workshop at Olin-Sang-Ruby Union Institute Camp in Wisconsin a number of years ago, Cantor Ellen Dreskin asked us all, “Think about the first place you went when you were away from your parents for an extended period of time.” As I sat in the main house/BAYIT, I looked around and realized, “It was here…this was the place.” I had attended that very camp a few months before becoming Bar Mitzvah, and Ellen’s question added a deeper dimension to my long-past experience at that camp from that moment on: this was the place where I first established my independence.
Each of us is like Jacob (and the Beatles as well!) in saying that “there are places I remember….all these places had their moments.” Think about the places and experiences that were pivotal for you – let them give you strength and hope for the future, and allow them to open your eyes to see a divine hand gently touching you, offering support, encouragement and love.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Struggling on the Same Page with Respect - November 3, 2010
Some pre-Shabbat, post-election day thoughts…
Rebekah wondered
why the twins that were yet to be born
were “pressing against each other inside her.”
She asked God, who told her that these two children
would become two nations and go their separate ways
and that the elder would serve the younger.
The blessings they would receive from their father, were, in the end,
the blessing intended for the other
after the younger, Jacob, was prepared by his mother
to appear to be his first-born brother Esau.
Those blessings spoke of abundance for both sons, dominance by one, but eventual independence and self-sufficiency for the other.
As we consider the results of choices we just made in voting booths
along with our fellow citizens,
we may wonder if we, the American people, are like Jacob and Esau,
two nations struggling with and pressing against each other,
when, in fact, we are one nation with great diversity of background
and, of course, opinion.
Some would say that the leaders chosen are the result of a pendulum
that swings back and forth with prevailing public sentiment,
but there is still a hope for the possibility of moving forward
in one way or another, with some leaders and citizens realizing
that compromise might give everyone more of what they want and need
in their daily lives.
So the struggle will continue, but it is one that can yield results when we remind ourselves that we are brothers and sisters that ultimately share a common belief in freedom and justice.
We can still affirm that “We the people” means a productive partnership between leaders and citizens who come from many cultural backgrounds, many faiths, many nations, all who have something to contribute to the welfare of our national community.
May our many insights, strategies, ideas, values and beliefs come together in a dialogue across our communities and states that can bring us security, true partnership, mutual respect, and hope.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Rebekah wondered
why the twins that were yet to be born
were “pressing against each other inside her.”
She asked God, who told her that these two children
would become two nations and go their separate ways
and that the elder would serve the younger.
The blessings they would receive from their father, were, in the end,
the blessing intended for the other
after the younger, Jacob, was prepared by his mother
to appear to be his first-born brother Esau.
Those blessings spoke of abundance for both sons, dominance by one, but eventual independence and self-sufficiency for the other.
As we consider the results of choices we just made in voting booths
along with our fellow citizens,
we may wonder if we, the American people, are like Jacob and Esau,
two nations struggling with and pressing against each other,
when, in fact, we are one nation with great diversity of background
and, of course, opinion.
Some would say that the leaders chosen are the result of a pendulum
that swings back and forth with prevailing public sentiment,
but there is still a hope for the possibility of moving forward
in one way or another, with some leaders and citizens realizing
that compromise might give everyone more of what they want and need
in their daily lives.
So the struggle will continue, but it is one that can yield results when we remind ourselves that we are brothers and sisters that ultimately share a common belief in freedom and justice.
We can still affirm that “We the people” means a productive partnership between leaders and citizens who come from many cultural backgrounds, many faiths, many nations, all who have something to contribute to the welfare of our national community.
May our many insights, strategies, ideas, values and beliefs come together in a dialogue across our communities and states that can bring us security, true partnership, mutual respect, and hope.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Moving Forward...Staying Together - October 29, 2010 (Kesher Newsletter article)
In around 1975, a rabbi went to visit one of his long-time congregants whom he hadn’t seen at Temple during his two years at the congregation. The woman told him that she hadn’t come to services or other events for many years because she was still angry about the building fund. The rabbi calmly replied, “Well, that was in 1953. Wouldn’t it be all right to come back to Temple now?” The member firmly responded, “Rabbi, I was not talking about the building fund of 1953. I was talking about the building fund of 1925!”
The story, from another congregation, is absolutely true! From my own upbringing, I very much understand how someone might hold on to a feeling for 50 years in a congregation. I also know that refusing to relinquish that emotion kept that woman from experiencing the positive aspects of community which were very much present in that congregation. I know how many times my parents were not happy with approaches and behaviors they saw among some Temple members, but they remained active and reaped the benefits of being part of a Temple family, something that was very much evident in all the years that they were members and in the support our family received at the time of our parents’ deaths. An article in the Kansas City Jewish Chronicle on October 24 (www.kcjc.com—it should still be there) focused on the many rabbis confirmed at my home Temple over the last 70 years, including my brother and me. The nurturing of leadership of members of all ages in a congregation comes from successfully navigating through difficult challenges and taking time to celebrate milestones and major accomplishments. At the foundation of all relationships in a Temple must be mutual respect, a sense of openness to new possibilities even when change may not be preferred or welcome, a constant acknowledgement of being part of a team, a reverence for the sanctity of a Temple and its purpose, and a commitment to support the congregation through whatever means are personally within reach because of a belief in the power of community. Beyond all that, I have learned that persistence is key, as well as an ability to see the glass as half-full.
In the Torah reading for the last weekend of October this year, Chayei Sarah, Abraham’s servant (named Eliezer by the rabbis) went to find a wife for his master’s son, Isaac. When he arrived at his destination (among Abraham’s relatives), he prayed that there would be one woman who would instinctively know to offer him water AND to offer his camels water to drink as well. He was looking for a woman who would show both initiative and kindness. It happened that one woman did exactly as he had hoped—Rebekah, whom we mention in every service. Eliezer knew that she would be able to take charge of Isaac’s household with confidence and goodness. Like Rebekah, we have the opportunity at Temple Israel to demonstrate kindness, respect, initiative, and a warmth that will draw us together and sustain our ties as fellow congregants through trial and disagreement and, hopefully most often, times of success and satisfaction. I look forward to your continuing partnership as we continue to move towards the future with determination and hope!
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
The story, from another congregation, is absolutely true! From my own upbringing, I very much understand how someone might hold on to a feeling for 50 years in a congregation. I also know that refusing to relinquish that emotion kept that woman from experiencing the positive aspects of community which were very much present in that congregation. I know how many times my parents were not happy with approaches and behaviors they saw among some Temple members, but they remained active and reaped the benefits of being part of a Temple family, something that was very much evident in all the years that they were members and in the support our family received at the time of our parents’ deaths. An article in the Kansas City Jewish Chronicle on October 24 (www.kcjc.com—it should still be there) focused on the many rabbis confirmed at my home Temple over the last 70 years, including my brother and me. The nurturing of leadership of members of all ages in a congregation comes from successfully navigating through difficult challenges and taking time to celebrate milestones and major accomplishments. At the foundation of all relationships in a Temple must be mutual respect, a sense of openness to new possibilities even when change may not be preferred or welcome, a constant acknowledgement of being part of a team, a reverence for the sanctity of a Temple and its purpose, and a commitment to support the congregation through whatever means are personally within reach because of a belief in the power of community. Beyond all that, I have learned that persistence is key, as well as an ability to see the glass as half-full.
In the Torah reading for the last weekend of October this year, Chayei Sarah, Abraham’s servant (named Eliezer by the rabbis) went to find a wife for his master’s son, Isaac. When he arrived at his destination (among Abraham’s relatives), he prayed that there would be one woman who would instinctively know to offer him water AND to offer his camels water to drink as well. He was looking for a woman who would show both initiative and kindness. It happened that one woman did exactly as he had hoped—Rebekah, whom we mention in every service. Eliezer knew that she would be able to take charge of Isaac’s household with confidence and goodness. Like Rebekah, we have the opportunity at Temple Israel to demonstrate kindness, respect, initiative, and a warmth that will draw us together and sustain our ties as fellow congregants through trial and disagreement and, hopefully most often, times of success and satisfaction. I look forward to your continuing partnership as we continue to move towards the future with determination and hope!
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Friday, October 22, 2010
Sharing origins - my colleagues from my Temple!
http://www.kcjc.com/201010229534/news/bnai-jehudah-proud-of-rabbis-it-has-inspired.html
Here were my comments to reporter Marcia Horn for this article.
My bio
Rabbi Larry Karol is a 1970 B'nai Jehudah confirmand (in the same class as Rabbi Art Nemitoff). He graduated from Center High School in 1972, and attended University of Illinois in Champaign-Urbana, where he received a Bachelor of Arts Degree in Liberal Arts and Sciences with a major in Sociology and a minor in Religious Studies. Rabbi Karol was ordained at Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion in Cincinnati in 1981. He served as assistant rabbi at Temple Israel in Dayton, Ohio in 1981-1984, rabbi of Temple Beth Sholom in Topeka, Kansas in 1984-2006, and rabbi of Temple Israel in Dover, New Hampshire since 2006. Rabbi Larry Karol has released two albums of original Jewish music, "Two are Better Than One" and "A New Beginning," and "One Light Above: The Larry Karol Songbook." He was one of a number of singer/songwriters who performed at newCAJE in Waltham, Massachusetts on August 1-4. Larry married Rhonda Marks (who was director of children's and youth service at the Dayton Jewish Center) in Dayton in 1982. Rhonda is currently an early childhood educator. Their son, Adam, was born in 1986 in Topeka. Adam, a 2008 graduate of Berklee College of Music, now serves as a digital media assistant with the Union for Reform Judaism's Congregational Consulting Group in the national offices in New York City.
I’d like to know if B’nai Jehudah influenced you or affected your decision to become a rabbi and in what way.
Both of my parents, Joseph and Ruth Karol, taught Religious School and were active in Temple auxiliaries for many years. I attended most of the Friday night services throughout my elementary through high school years. I sang in the Junior Choir and was active in Temple Youth Group. Temple B'nai Jehudah supported me in attending camp at Olin-Sang-Ruby Union Institute Camp (then Olin-Sang) for the first two years of their "tzofim" outdoor session and 7 weeks at Kutz Camp in Warwick, New York in 1970 for National Torah Corps, a special session that taught modern Hebrew and Jewish texts. Rabbi William Silverman was an impressive teacher, both in his Confirmation sessions (I still remember some of those specific lessons) and in the high school program that covered Jewish thought and comparative religion. Among the assistant rabbis was my first role model as a "singing rabbi," Rabbi Paul Levenson (whom I just saw at newCAJE). The Youth Group's "We Speak for Judaism" Panel, on which I served for three years, gave me many experiences in explaining Judaism to members of the Christian community. I remember one time when David Meyer and I spoke to a group of 25 Assembly of God ministers by ourselves! I should add that the Temple Youth Group, both at the local and regional level, gave me a chance to make connections in the Jewish world that continue until today.
Or if there were other factors that influenced your decision. Who was the senior rabbi when you were there? And is he the same one who taught your confirmation class? If you have anything else you want to add, please feel free.
I was fortunate to attend a university with a very active Hillel Foundation that had a director who noted my interest in entering the rabbinate. I took courses in Hebrew and Judaica all four years, sang in the Hillel Choir and served as accompanist and co-director for two years. I was a member of the student board and also took a formal position during my senior year, leading a Shabbat dinner every week at an honors dormitory. Those years of college were crucial in keeping me closely connected to Jewish life.
I feel fortunate to have been part of a vibrant congregation and Jewish community. There was always a lot going on! I am also grateful to Temple B'nai Jehudah for the opportunity to serve three years as a summer rabbinic intern (when Michael Zedek was senior rabbi) and another year working with the Summer Hebrew Day Camp program directed by Bob Tornberg. That experience stood me in good stead in my student pulpits and in my service to three congregations throughout my rabbinate. I appreciated the support that Temple Sisterhood provided for my rabbinic school education. I am glad to have seen my parents active in Temple in their later years, with my mom serving as Sisterhood President and Gift Shop chairperson and my dad creating a Brotherhood/Sisterhood page on his home computer for the Temple Bulletin.
Here were my comments to reporter Marcia Horn for this article.
My bio
Rabbi Larry Karol is a 1970 B'nai Jehudah confirmand (in the same class as Rabbi Art Nemitoff). He graduated from Center High School in 1972, and attended University of Illinois in Champaign-Urbana, where he received a Bachelor of Arts Degree in Liberal Arts and Sciences with a major in Sociology and a minor in Religious Studies. Rabbi Karol was ordained at Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion in Cincinnati in 1981. He served as assistant rabbi at Temple Israel in Dayton, Ohio in 1981-1984, rabbi of Temple Beth Sholom in Topeka, Kansas in 1984-2006, and rabbi of Temple Israel in Dover, New Hampshire since 2006. Rabbi Larry Karol has released two albums of original Jewish music, "Two are Better Than One" and "A New Beginning," and "One Light Above: The Larry Karol Songbook." He was one of a number of singer/songwriters who performed at newCAJE in Waltham, Massachusetts on August 1-4. Larry married Rhonda Marks (who was director of children's and youth service at the Dayton Jewish Center) in Dayton in 1982. Rhonda is currently an early childhood educator. Their son, Adam, was born in 1986 in Topeka. Adam, a 2008 graduate of Berklee College of Music, now serves as a digital media assistant with the Union for Reform Judaism's Congregational Consulting Group in the national offices in New York City.
I’d like to know if B’nai Jehudah influenced you or affected your decision to become a rabbi and in what way.
Both of my parents, Joseph and Ruth Karol, taught Religious School and were active in Temple auxiliaries for many years. I attended most of the Friday night services throughout my elementary through high school years. I sang in the Junior Choir and was active in Temple Youth Group. Temple B'nai Jehudah supported me in attending camp at Olin-Sang-Ruby Union Institute Camp (then Olin-Sang) for the first two years of their "tzofim" outdoor session and 7 weeks at Kutz Camp in Warwick, New York in 1970 for National Torah Corps, a special session that taught modern Hebrew and Jewish texts. Rabbi William Silverman was an impressive teacher, both in his Confirmation sessions (I still remember some of those specific lessons) and in the high school program that covered Jewish thought and comparative religion. Among the assistant rabbis was my first role model as a "singing rabbi," Rabbi Paul Levenson (whom I just saw at newCAJE). The Youth Group's "We Speak for Judaism" Panel, on which I served for three years, gave me many experiences in explaining Judaism to members of the Christian community. I remember one time when David Meyer and I spoke to a group of 25 Assembly of God ministers by ourselves! I should add that the Temple Youth Group, both at the local and regional level, gave me a chance to make connections in the Jewish world that continue until today.
Or if there were other factors that influenced your decision. Who was the senior rabbi when you were there? And is he the same one who taught your confirmation class? If you have anything else you want to add, please feel free.
I was fortunate to attend a university with a very active Hillel Foundation that had a director who noted my interest in entering the rabbinate. I took courses in Hebrew and Judaica all four years, sang in the Hillel Choir and served as accompanist and co-director for two years. I was a member of the student board and also took a formal position during my senior year, leading a Shabbat dinner every week at an honors dormitory. Those years of college were crucial in keeping me closely connected to Jewish life.
I feel fortunate to have been part of a vibrant congregation and Jewish community. There was always a lot going on! I am also grateful to Temple B'nai Jehudah for the opportunity to serve three years as a summer rabbinic intern (when Michael Zedek was senior rabbi) and another year working with the Summer Hebrew Day Camp program directed by Bob Tornberg. That experience stood me in good stead in my student pulpits and in my service to three congregations throughout my rabbinate. I appreciated the support that Temple Sisterhood provided for my rabbinic school education. I am glad to have seen my parents active in Temple in their later years, with my mom serving as Sisterhood President and Gift Shop chairperson and my dad creating a Brotherhood/Sisterhood page on his home computer for the Temple Bulletin.
What's mine is yours...the best - October 22, 2010
Shabbat Shalom!
“If rulers are supposed to be just and fair, why are there so many wars?”
This was the question asked by our 6th-7th grade class as we discussed the meaning of the word Melech (ruler) that appears in most blessings. I immediately quoted for the students a quote from Pirkei Avot, the Sayings of the Rabbis (Chapter 5, Mishnah 10):
People come in four basic types. One says:
What’s mine is mine and what’s yours is yours: this is the average type. (But some say: This is the way of Sodom).
What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine: simple-minded.
What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is yours: the best (pious/saintly).
What’s mine is mine and what’s yours is mine: the worst (wicked).
In our class discussion, we focused mainly on the last line, which implies an attitude that has led to many wars: a dispute over possession of land or rights. When we discussed the first line, it was necessary to tell the story of Sodom and Gomorrah that is part of this week’s Torah reading, whereby the people of those cities brought about their own destruction. While some commentators have defined the sinfulness of Sodom and Gomorrah as a certain type of coercion, many later biblical references and other commentaries claim that their sin was that they lacked hospitality or a sense of mutual responsibility and communal concern. No one stood up for anyone else’s rights, nor did the people welcome visitors with any warmth or generosity. There were no ties that held everyone together. The “antidote” to that attitude is contained in the third line, “what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is yours,” which reflects and encourages sharing what we have with other people, an approach that is represented when we practice tzedakah, righteous giving, or gemilut chasadim, performing acts of kindness, giving of our resources, energy and spirit in a selfless way.
This passage from Pirkei Avot sheds light not only upon wars and our participation in the community, but also upon the political process. There is always a tension between rights and responsibility. Citizens tend to adopt differing interpretations of a phrase like “We the People” based on their particular perspective. Perhaps our goal should be to do what we can to be sure that our society always seeks to move beyond the “average” type to the “best,” enabling every citizen to share what they have (including their ideas) for the good of their community and nation. Such an approach just might lead us to the progress and peace for which we yearn every day.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
“If rulers are supposed to be just and fair, why are there so many wars?”
This was the question asked by our 6th-7th grade class as we discussed the meaning of the word Melech (ruler) that appears in most blessings. I immediately quoted for the students a quote from Pirkei Avot, the Sayings of the Rabbis (Chapter 5, Mishnah 10):
People come in four basic types. One says:
What’s mine is mine and what’s yours is yours: this is the average type. (But some say: This is the way of Sodom).
What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine: simple-minded.
What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is yours: the best (pious/saintly).
What’s mine is mine and what’s yours is mine: the worst (wicked).
In our class discussion, we focused mainly on the last line, which implies an attitude that has led to many wars: a dispute over possession of land or rights. When we discussed the first line, it was necessary to tell the story of Sodom and Gomorrah that is part of this week’s Torah reading, whereby the people of those cities brought about their own destruction. While some commentators have defined the sinfulness of Sodom and Gomorrah as a certain type of coercion, many later biblical references and other commentaries claim that their sin was that they lacked hospitality or a sense of mutual responsibility and communal concern. No one stood up for anyone else’s rights, nor did the people welcome visitors with any warmth or generosity. There were no ties that held everyone together. The “antidote” to that attitude is contained in the third line, “what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is yours,” which reflects and encourages sharing what we have with other people, an approach that is represented when we practice tzedakah, righteous giving, or gemilut chasadim, performing acts of kindness, giving of our resources, energy and spirit in a selfless way.
This passage from Pirkei Avot sheds light not only upon wars and our participation in the community, but also upon the political process. There is always a tension between rights and responsibility. Citizens tend to adopt differing interpretations of a phrase like “We the People” based on their particular perspective. Perhaps our goal should be to do what we can to be sure that our society always seeks to move beyond the “average” type to the “best,” enabling every citizen to share what they have (including their ideas) for the good of their community and nation. Such an approach just might lead us to the progress and peace for which we yearn every day.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Friday, October 15, 2010
Small Steps to Destiny - October 15, 2010
Shabbat Shalom!
Every day is like a journey,
From the moment we wake up
As we address the tasks that await us
And connect with people in the various
parts of our lives.
We may not feel we are on one mission alone
When we take care of a variety of responsibilities,
Sometimes with a compartmentalized approach.
It is likely that the whole – our complete identity –
Is the sum of the parts –
what we do and who we are, wherever we are.
In the Torah reading for this week,
Abram received his call:
“Go forth, for your benefit, from your native land,
From your ancestral home, to the place that I will show you.
I will make you a great nation, and I will bless you.
I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing.”
All of those promises were not going to be fulfilled in one day.
Every day would bring Abram a step closer
to their fulfillment.
The process of Abram’s departure appears to be
Physical and geographical
But it can also be seen as spiritual,
For at the heart of leaving one’s home or a familiar place
Are emotions of courage, uncertainty, determination and hope.
Every day carries with it those emotions,
For even when we are in the same place,
We are still growing, changing, moving forward,
And responding to a call to try to be as good as we can be
And to be a blessing.
May we see each day as if we are Abram and Sarai
Called and challenged to take steps toward a destiny
That will enable us to discover who we are and where we belong.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Every day is like a journey,
From the moment we wake up
As we address the tasks that await us
And connect with people in the various
parts of our lives.
We may not feel we are on one mission alone
When we take care of a variety of responsibilities,
Sometimes with a compartmentalized approach.
It is likely that the whole – our complete identity –
Is the sum of the parts –
what we do and who we are, wherever we are.
In the Torah reading for this week,
Abram received his call:
“Go forth, for your benefit, from your native land,
From your ancestral home, to the place that I will show you.
I will make you a great nation, and I will bless you.
I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing.”
All of those promises were not going to be fulfilled in one day.
Every day would bring Abram a step closer
to their fulfillment.
The process of Abram’s departure appears to be
Physical and geographical
But it can also be seen as spiritual,
For at the heart of leaving one’s home or a familiar place
Are emotions of courage, uncertainty, determination and hope.
Every day carries with it those emotions,
For even when we are in the same place,
We are still growing, changing, moving forward,
And responding to a call to try to be as good as we can be
And to be a blessing.
May we see each day as if we are Abram and Sarai
Called and challenged to take steps toward a destiny
That will enable us to discover who we are and where we belong.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Thoughts on a new day…. October 7, 2010
Shabbat Shalom!
A world no sooner created
Was on its own path to destruction.
One man was designated as
“righteous in his generation”
A good man in a sea of
Self-righteousness and arrogance
Was entrusted with the survival of
Humanity and
Living things
To preserve a remnant
After a great flood
Would wash away the evil
And enable the world
To start again.
We struggle every day
To steer our own path
Towards goodness
And positive ends.
Sometimes, the baggage we carry
Takes us away from where we should go.
We try to change, but the weight of our burdens
Bogs us down
And prevents us from making progress
On our march towards the future.
And even if we are able to lay down our burdens
And begin anew,
There may be others around us who affect our lives
who are unable to do the same with their burdens.
We have little control over the people around us
When attitudes are unchanging and entrenched
But we can bring ourselves to a new place
Without a great flood that brings destruction
But, rather, with an internal about-face
That enables us to continue on our journey
Unencumbered and renewed.
It is then that we see the rainbow of promise
And the dove carrying an olive branch
The sign of hope and of the peace
That we can know inside ourselves.
If each of us can find the rainbow
And see the dove,
We will be able to create, together
A new day.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
A world no sooner created
Was on its own path to destruction.
One man was designated as
“righteous in his generation”
A good man in a sea of
Self-righteousness and arrogance
Was entrusted with the survival of
Humanity and
Living things
To preserve a remnant
After a great flood
Would wash away the evil
And enable the world
To start again.
We struggle every day
To steer our own path
Towards goodness
And positive ends.
Sometimes, the baggage we carry
Takes us away from where we should go.
We try to change, but the weight of our burdens
Bogs us down
And prevents us from making progress
On our march towards the future.
And even if we are able to lay down our burdens
And begin anew,
There may be others around us who affect our lives
who are unable to do the same with their burdens.
We have little control over the people around us
When attitudes are unchanging and entrenched
But we can bring ourselves to a new place
Without a great flood that brings destruction
But, rather, with an internal about-face
That enables us to continue on our journey
Unencumbered and renewed.
It is then that we see the rainbow of promise
And the dove carrying an olive branch
The sign of hope and of the peace
That we can know inside ourselves.
If each of us can find the rainbow
And see the dove,
We will be able to create, together
A new day.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Today's Trees of Knowledge-October 1, 2010
Shabbat Shalom!
The news of the suicide of 18 year-old Rutgers University student Tyler Clementi this week brings to the forefront, once again, the issue of the appropriate use of the technology that has made email, texting, Facebook and Twitter possible. Most people use these avenues of communication in positive ways: to maintain friendships, to stay in close communication with a friend or family member, to celebrate or share some aspect of life, or to reflect on what is happening in the world. We have seen in recent months how the dark side of this technology can ruin lives through comments, photos or videos that can result in public humiliation, embarrassment or even anger. Text messages, status updates, “tweets” and blogs can inflame as well as comfort and heal (and text messages sent while driving can endanger more than just the driver). There is so much great potential in some of these technologies that create community in ways that we couldn’t have imagined 15 or even 10 years ago. It seems as if any new technology needs an instruction book or a strong dose of personal common sense.
The story of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden in this week’s Torah portion teaches what it means to be human when a limit is set: that, at times, “no” becomes “not really ‘no.’” God told Adam not to eat of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil so that humanity could remain in a state of eternal blissful ignorance. God told the first man that he would die if he ate the fruit (it doesn’t say “apple”), meaning that he would become mortal and lose a ticket to eternity (although that may not have been clear to Adam). When Adam told Eve about the rules regarding the Tree, he added to God’s instructions, “We shouldn’t even touch it!” Then came the serpent telling Eve that she wouldn’t “die” (meaning immediately) if she ate of the fruit. She ate, Adam ate, and when God confronted them, the man and woman engaged in successive finger-pointing (including a strong accusation against the serpent). Already, early in the book of Genesis, human disobedience had led to a new awareness of good and evil, a loss of immortality, blaming and, finally, stiff consequences.
Some modern commentators assert that this tale in the Torah was intended to tell how we came to be the way we are, with a finite life span, having to work hard to sustain our lives, and needing to decide between right and wrong, good and evil. Those choices are not always clear or easy, but we can hopefully make them in such a way that brings us together rather than driving us apart, that respects each individual and his or her personality and privacy rather than ignoring societal limits and common-sense boundaries regarding relationships and behavior. It is our responsibility to help one another engender such a level of respect and integrity. May we do our best to reach this goal for ourselves and all humanity.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
The news of the suicide of 18 year-old Rutgers University student Tyler Clementi this week brings to the forefront, once again, the issue of the appropriate use of the technology that has made email, texting, Facebook and Twitter possible. Most people use these avenues of communication in positive ways: to maintain friendships, to stay in close communication with a friend or family member, to celebrate or share some aspect of life, or to reflect on what is happening in the world. We have seen in recent months how the dark side of this technology can ruin lives through comments, photos or videos that can result in public humiliation, embarrassment or even anger. Text messages, status updates, “tweets” and blogs can inflame as well as comfort and heal (and text messages sent while driving can endanger more than just the driver). There is so much great potential in some of these technologies that create community in ways that we couldn’t have imagined 15 or even 10 years ago. It seems as if any new technology needs an instruction book or a strong dose of personal common sense.
The story of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden in this week’s Torah portion teaches what it means to be human when a limit is set: that, at times, “no” becomes “not really ‘no.’” God told Adam not to eat of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil so that humanity could remain in a state of eternal blissful ignorance. God told the first man that he would die if he ate the fruit (it doesn’t say “apple”), meaning that he would become mortal and lose a ticket to eternity (although that may not have been clear to Adam). When Adam told Eve about the rules regarding the Tree, he added to God’s instructions, “We shouldn’t even touch it!” Then came the serpent telling Eve that she wouldn’t “die” (meaning immediately) if she ate of the fruit. She ate, Adam ate, and when God confronted them, the man and woman engaged in successive finger-pointing (including a strong accusation against the serpent). Already, early in the book of Genesis, human disobedience had led to a new awareness of good and evil, a loss of immortality, blaming and, finally, stiff consequences.
Some modern commentators assert that this tale in the Torah was intended to tell how we came to be the way we are, with a finite life span, having to work hard to sustain our lives, and needing to decide between right and wrong, good and evil. Those choices are not always clear or easy, but we can hopefully make them in such a way that brings us together rather than driving us apart, that respects each individual and his or her personality and privacy rather than ignoring societal limits and common-sense boundaries regarding relationships and behavior. It is our responsibility to help one another engender such a level of respect and integrity. May we do our best to reach this goal for ourselves and all humanity.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Thursday, September 23, 2010
A peaceful Sukkah - September 23, 2010
After the students
and parents
decorated the Sukkah
for this new year of 5771,
I told those who remained
how our prayerbook speaks about
a Sukkah of Peace.
As I looked at the Sukkah today,
sitting peacefully outside the Temple,
I was struck by the peace that is intrinsic
in the Sukkah and in the festival of Sukkot:
the peace of nature and the peaceful place
in creation we can choose to create for ourselves
if we only try.
May we fashion our own Sukkah of Peace
in some way
with each new day.
Chag Samayach.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Spine, Eyes, Lips and Heart - September 22, 2010 - Sukkot
Chag Samayach!
In the Erev Sukkot service tonight, we will share these thoughts about the significance of the main Sukkot symbols, the lulav and etrog:
The palm resembles a spine. It says:
Stand straight, be brave; do not fear to be yourself.
The myrtle is like an eye. It says:
Look well upon this lovely world. Look at all its creatures with joy.
The willow's shape is like a lip. It says:
Sing and smile; say words that are tender and kind. Let all who hear you be blessed!
The etrog is like a human heart. It says:
Open your heart to every living being; feel their pain and know their gladness;
give your love with a willing heart.
We receive a new Lulav and Etrog every year (it arrived yesterday!). During the week of Sukkot, these symbols are passed from one person to another and waved in six directions (and a seventh direction inside of us as we bring the symbols to our chest before waving them up and down). We build the Sukkah every year just before Sukkot and then take it down after the holiday to remind us that it is only temporary, just as the Israelites, as they moved through the wilderness, made shelters that stood only as long as they remained in one place. The Lulav, Etrog and Sukkah are all symbols of change that, today, coincide with the beginning of fall. They teach us that we are partners with the natural world that we live in, which is always growing and changing.
On Rosh Hashanah evening, we read together from Gates of Repentance, “Now is the time for turning,” a special reading about changes that happen in the world and that can also occur inside of us. Growth and change applies to our personality and character as much as to nature. Sometimes we “roll with the changes” around us, and, other times, we create those changes ourselves. Judaism asks us to be dynamic, not static, so that we will not say, “that’s the way I am and I can’t change,” but, rather, “that’s the way I should try to be.” In the words from our Sukkot service, we can continue to try to stand straight, look well upon the world, be kind, open our hearts, feel the pain of others and know their joy.
Hopefully, many of you will have a chance to see and stand in our Sukkah and recite the blessings over the lulav and etrog. May this “season of our rejoicing” bring us together in gladness and in hope for year of health and unity!
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry K.
In the Erev Sukkot service tonight, we will share these thoughts about the significance of the main Sukkot symbols, the lulav and etrog:
The palm resembles a spine. It says:
Stand straight, be brave; do not fear to be yourself.
The myrtle is like an eye. It says:
Look well upon this lovely world. Look at all its creatures with joy.
The willow's shape is like a lip. It says:
Sing and smile; say words that are tender and kind. Let all who hear you be blessed!
The etrog is like a human heart. It says:
Open your heart to every living being; feel their pain and know their gladness;
give your love with a willing heart.
We receive a new Lulav and Etrog every year (it arrived yesterday!). During the week of Sukkot, these symbols are passed from one person to another and waved in six directions (and a seventh direction inside of us as we bring the symbols to our chest before waving them up and down). We build the Sukkah every year just before Sukkot and then take it down after the holiday to remind us that it is only temporary, just as the Israelites, as they moved through the wilderness, made shelters that stood only as long as they remained in one place. The Lulav, Etrog and Sukkah are all symbols of change that, today, coincide with the beginning of fall. They teach us that we are partners with the natural world that we live in, which is always growing and changing.
On Rosh Hashanah evening, we read together from Gates of Repentance, “Now is the time for turning,” a special reading about changes that happen in the world and that can also occur inside of us. Growth and change applies to our personality and character as much as to nature. Sometimes we “roll with the changes” around us, and, other times, we create those changes ourselves. Judaism asks us to be dynamic, not static, so that we will not say, “that’s the way I am and I can’t change,” but, rather, “that’s the way I should try to be.” In the words from our Sukkot service, we can continue to try to stand straight, look well upon the world, be kind, open our hearts, feel the pain of others and know their joy.
Hopefully, many of you will have a chance to see and stand in our Sukkah and recite the blessings over the lulav and etrog. May this “season of our rejoicing” bring us together in gladness and in hope for year of health and unity!
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry K.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Walking Humbly in Challenging Times - Yom Kippur Evening Sermon -September 17, 2010
“I believe this happened for a reason. I'm trying to figure out what that reason is, but I think it's playing out. This isn't talking about baseball. It's honesty, sportsmanship, how we portray each other. Those are all good things. None of this was intended. It just happened.”
Umpire Jim Joyce made those comments in the days following his call of “safe” on what would have been the final out of what appeared to be Detroit Tigers pitcher Armando Galarraga’s perfect game in early June. While many of his teammates argued the call with Joyce, Galarraga merely smiled, humbly accepted the call and silently went back to the mound. Joyce said, “I have replayed that play so many times, my head hurts. All I can see is Armando Galarraga's face. He didn't say a word to me. When that happens, you think you're right.'' After he saw the replays, Joyce was devastated. He apologized to Galarraga and hugged him after the Tigers' 3-0 win. Galarraga said that he respected Joyce for speaking directly with him and admitting his mistake. This episode was one of those epic moments that not only shows sportsmanship at its best, but also consideration, respect, truthfulness, forgiveness, and, most of all, humility. Jim Joyce was overwhelmed by this experience that should have its own exhibit in the Baseball Hall of Fame for how Joyce and Galarraga graciously handled what could have been a difficult moment. They demonstrated a level of humility not often matched in professional sports.
Humility - in Hebrew, ANAVAH –stands at the top of any list of Jewish values for our behavior and character. During our summer study series based on Rabbi Joseph Telushkin’s book, A CODE OF JEWISH ETHICS, several congregants joined me in studying Jewish teachings about humility. We learned that Moses Maimonides, the great Jewish philosopher of the 12th Century, taught that we should place ourselves in the middle of the spectrum on most personality traits. He advised, “Don’t be hot-tempered or easily angered, nor should you be unfeeling. Keep an even disposition, reserving your anger for occasions when it is truly warranted.” However, when it came to humility, Maimonides was clear: “One should move away from the one end of the spectrum, arrogance, and adopt the other – extreme humility.”
We don’t have a specific prayer for humility in our prayerbook, but this value permeates our High Holy Day worship. It is at the foundation of admitting what we have done wrong, being willing to confess our sins, and acknowledging that we each have room for personal growth. There is, however, an 1800 year-old prayer about avoiding humility’s opposite – arrogance. Rabbi Judah Hanasi, the leader of the Jewish community in Palestine under the Romans, would pray these words silently to himself after concluding the T’filah with the prayer for peace: “May it be Your will, Eternal One, my God and God of my ancestors, to protect me, this day and every day, from insolence in others and from arrogance in myself. Save me from vicious people, from evil neighbors, and from corrupt companions. Preserve me from misfortune and from powers of destruction. Save me from harsh judgments; spare me from ruthless opponents.” When we discussed this prayer at the Board meeting on September 1, we noted how Judah Hanasi was both a rabbi leading the Jewish community and a representative to the Roman authorities. He dealt on a daily basis with prayer, Torah study and governmental politics. One could easily imagine why Judah would want to be saved from evil neighbors, corrupt companions, and ruthless opponents. By asking to be shielded from his own arrogance, Judah demonstrated an admirable level of self-awareness. He readily recognized that it was entirely possible, by virtue of his position of leadership, to unintentionally slip away from the humility which he hoped to sustain in his relationships with his colleagues and the entire community. Well before Maimonides established extreme humility as a goal for each person’s character development, Judah Hanasi realized that it was within his power to choose to be humble so that he could set an example for the people who looked to him for guidance.
Judah Hanasi needed only to look at his own heritage to find examples of humility. In the Bible, he would have read about Abraham cautiously approaching God in an argument regarding the planned demise of Sodom and Gomorrah. Abraham prefaced his remarks to the Eternal One by saying, “I am but dust and ashes,” admitting that he didn’t think he was worthy to challenge God, although he continued to plead his case. Numbers Chapter 12 said of Moses: “Now Moses was a very humble man, more so than any other human being on earth.” Moses’ humility came from the fact that he didn’t seek his position of leadership – it sought him out and designated him for his mission to lead the Israelites to freedom. The prophet Micah proclaimed that, more than anything else, God requires us to “do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with God.” Joseph Telushkin explained that it says “walk humbly with God” for a reason. If it only said, “walk with God,” people who believe that God is only on their side could become arrogant and cruel, committing acts of prejudice, hatred or violence in the name of God. Or, they may seek to relentlessly control a situation, whether through extreme rhetoric or hostile action. The Torah was teaching us that the best way to walk with God is with humility and modesty. That teaching of Micah, and the examples of Abraham and Moses, were wholeheartedly followed by students in the School of the renowned teacher Hillel 2000 years ago. The Talmud explained that rulings of the School of Hillel were accepted more often than the position of their colleagues and opponents within the school of Shammai. Why? Because the school of Hillel studied all the views of the School of Shammai, whether they agreed with those views or not. When students of the School of Hillel would discuss a particular issue, they would cite their opponents’ views before they stated their own. There were cases in which the School of Hillel adopted the views of the School of Shammai when they realized that the their opponents’ position made more sense than their own view. Imagine what our own political process would look like if more candidates would thoughtfully speak about the views of their rivals in the course of a campaign. And, picture, for a moment, a United States Congress in which more and more legislators would be humble enough to admit that some of the ideas of their political rivals have merit, rather than dismissing an idea simply because it emanated from a senator or representative who had the wrong party label. There have been times when this has actually happened. Perhaps some of us would agree that now would be a good time for this type of humility to enable our national leaders to find more common ground.
As I prepared to talk about humility tonight, I realized that I needed to follow the examples of Abraham, Moses, the School of Hillel and Judah Hanasi. Jewish tradition has much to say about specific rules regarding how to be humble. Before I went to Jewish texts, I asked my facebook friends and Temple members to define humility and offer examples of being humble. I am in awe of the responses I received. It is my honor to present these views about humility, with many of these statements echoing the most meaningful standards from our long Jewish heritage of study and commentary:
• Humility is being able to recognize that everyone, including ourselves, has flaws and not being too proud to admit when you are not always right.
• Humility is admitting my humanness, imperfections and all, to myself, God, and another human being. I am humbled when I receive the grace of someone’s love, forgiveness, or gratitude. I am humbled when I ask God for guidance, and I receive it.
• Humility is a virtue that I value highly. One approach is to identify the opposite of humility, which, I believe, is is arrogance. It is easier to spot an arrogant person than a humble person and so, by definition, the most basic aspect of humility is that all people are treated equal. The second defining quality is that humility values excellence in all things, but it doesn't define and value people by their accomplishments, money, possessions, children's accomplishments or even their clothing style. Humility tries to look past the obvious, the outer, the tangible toward what is intangible and lasting. The humble person realizes that in the scheme of things we are but a speck in the history of the world and there are forces much stronger, more enduring and powerful than a mere mortal.
• Humility is like Charlotte the spider in the book Charlotte's Web - Not proud and close to the ground.
• Humility may be doing something just because it is the right thing to do and not expecting recognition or reward or praise for one's actions, and putting others before oneself.
• Humility may be related to the word “humiliate” - Synonyms for humility are humbleness, modesty, unassuming nature, and meekness. Synonyms for humiliate are disgrace, put down, debase, and humble. To be humble is seen as positive. To be humbled or to humble another person is, in some cases, not so positive, and in others, unfortunately necessary.
• Humility comes when you realize that there are very few things that you can really know for sure about the bigger questions: how life began, God, whether your politics are really correct, whether your religion is any more on the mark than any other one, and what really motivates another human being.
• Humility is knowing what you can and can’t control, like the weather and, sometimes, emotions; knowing your limits and your strengths and using either at the appropriate time; appreciating the awesomeness of Creation. We are each a part of that bigger whole. Humility is being a parent or a teacher and being taught important life lessons - patience, unconditional love, stopping to smell the roses, see the bugs, or the "picture" in a cloud - by someone a generation or two behind you.
• Humility involves two intertwined concepts. Do be humble - one should strive to be modest and unimposing. Don't be arrogant - one should strive to be respectful of others' opinions and situations and not flaunt about one's perceived superiority. By being modest, one would not stand out in a crowd, and thus not bring unnecessary attention. Arrogance, while generally unappealing, will also result in intense scrutiny and possibly strong reactions. I guess this contributes to my defining myself as a 20th-Century man, one who values privacy, unlike today's culture where a Facebook wall proclaims everything for all to see. While I am proud to be who I am, I don't feel the need to share that without reason, in attempt to prove my worth to others. You might call this "Defensive Humility. "
• Humility is knowing your place in the world - not too great, not too small, and inhabiting that place with dignity and courage.
• Humility is the absence of “it’s all about me.”
• Humility is being aware and tuning in to others’ needs then placing their greater needs before your own; being very aware of your own egos' needs and stepping aside or down while you help to elevate the beauty in another; apologizing to someone you have injured when your ego was stamping its feet!!
• Humility is knowing when and HOW to say 'I'm sorry' by words and actions, and also to remember to say “thank you.”
• Humility is, whether working with others or dealing with family, when conflicts arise, seeing the other opinion as well as your own and acting on the conflict with an open heart. When another person has a glorified moment, humility is thinking of that other person first and rejoicing in his or her success before thinking about how that glory and success makes you feel about yourself.
• Humility is feeling overwhelmed at the thought of what someone has gone through, and silently acknowledging the challenges he or she has faced or still needs to face now. Examples are: seeing the tattoos of someone who has survived the holocaust; seeing a soldier with one leg; seeing a mom with a young baby, her head wrapped in a bandanna because she's lost her hair from cancer treatments. There's a feeling that there's nothing you could possibly do or say to take this thing away from them, though you really want to….The truth is, though, that people handle life's downfalls because they have to. There is no other option for them. That is what is really humbling.
• Humility is about taking one's self out of the equation.
• Humility is helping to face a crisis without feeling the need to tell people what we have done, leading by example, not by statement.
• Humility is being a lifelong learner and willing to accept that others have knowledge to offer you. Even if you think you know it all, you have something to learn from everyone. Humility is the point when you truly listen and hear the wisdom that surrounds you.
• Humility is recognizing your own gifts but being able to see and stand in awe of the gifts of others, and to acknowledge how the strengths, abilities, and talents of others can inspire us to better ourselves.
• Humility is recognizing that some of the annoying behaviors of people in our lives may be, in part, their responses to what they experience as our annoying behaviors.
• Humility is a state in which one recognizes that he/she is no more or less important than anyone else, in the grand scheme of things.
• Humility is realizing that we are but a part of a universe filled with awe-inspiring miracles.
• Humility is related to and expressed through gratitude.
• Humility is realizing that you may not be indispensable, but that you are definitely special for the unique perspective and gifts you bring to others.
• Humility can mean preparing yourself to let go of what is yours so that others can take up the mantle.
Many of these definitions of humility came together for me as I reflected on the book, The Council of Dads, by author Bruce Feiler. This book chronicled Feiler’s months of diagnosis and treatment for bone cancer in his leg. He knew he wanted to leave to his wife and daughters a special legacy in the event that he might not survive the treatment. Feiler described his feelings at not being able to share in the future of the lives of his daughters in this way: “Would they wonder who I was? Would they yearn for my approval, my love, my voice? A few days later, I imagined a way I might give them my voice. I would reach out to six men, from all parts of my life – beginning when I was a child and continuing through today. These are the men who know me best. The men who share my values. The men who know my voice.” After he completed his treatment and recovery, Feiler created a national movement by which fathers facing challenges to their health and well-being could create their own council of dads and share their legacy. I was struck by Feiler’s comments about the parent-child relationship and how it relates, in many ways, to humility across the generations: “If the paradox of being a parent is that we must make ourselves unneeded, the paradox of being a child is that you discover how much you need your parents only after you think you don’t. You spend your whole lives making yourself independent. You go forth on your own. And at exactly the moment you stop listening to us, you finally hear what we’ve been saying all along.”
Humility is not only about what happens inside of us in our attitudes towards others, but also about the fact that we need each other – as companions, as sources of support and comfort, as partners in facing moments of joy and in meeting difficult challenges, as friends, as teachers, and as fellow travelers who will gaze in wonder at life’s landscape as we continue on our journey. It was that sense of wonder and an awareness of life’s “big picture” that led Umpire Jim Joyce and Pitcher Armando Galarraga to a shared moment of humility, mutual respect and grace. And at this moment, in the sanctuary, recognizing how much we need one another is at the heart of these High Holy Days, because our prayers of confession are spoken with the word “We,” not “I.” As members of a KAHAL KADOSH, a sacred community, we are all responsible for helping each other grow in integrity and humility, and not only thinking in terms of avoiding arrogance. Rabbi Judah Hanasi’s prayer about arrogance can easily be turned into a meditation that can lead us along the path towards making greater humility an integral part of our character. I share this with you as we face the coming year together: May it be Your will, Eternal One, our God and God of our ancestors, to keep us in the presence of those who are kind and respectful and to preserve humility in ourselves. Enable us to find people of integrity, good neighbors, and honest companions. Open our eyes to the goodness around us and to the power and wisdom that can create such goodness. May we positively judge ourselves, our neighbors and even those who disagree with us. And always enable us to see the spark of God that lives within all people and that resides within the world around us.” On this Day of Atonement, so may we do as a humble and holy community and congregation. And let us say Amen.
Thank you to my colleagues and teachers…….
Michael Behrendt, Carol Birch, Cathi Cherry-Liston, Andy Diengott, Jonathan Flagg, Roberta Goldsmith, Scott Halasz, Ann Isacoff, Betty Kaplan, Mike Kahn, Rhonda Karol, Glicka Kaplan, Carole Krassner, Susan Liotta, Julie Low, Cathy Lesser Mansfield, Marilyn Mars, Joshua Meyrowitz, Alan Nasberg, Rabbi Louis Rieser, Jessica Rouchard-Vollmer, Rabbi Sarah Niebuhr Rubin, Susan Fellner Schanerman, Julie Serrano, Karen Shectman, Warren Sickel, Ruthie Spiero, Andrea Riccardi Stone, Randy Thomas.
Umpire Jim Joyce made those comments in the days following his call of “safe” on what would have been the final out of what appeared to be Detroit Tigers pitcher Armando Galarraga’s perfect game in early June. While many of his teammates argued the call with Joyce, Galarraga merely smiled, humbly accepted the call and silently went back to the mound. Joyce said, “I have replayed that play so many times, my head hurts. All I can see is Armando Galarraga's face. He didn't say a word to me. When that happens, you think you're right.'' After he saw the replays, Joyce was devastated. He apologized to Galarraga and hugged him after the Tigers' 3-0 win. Galarraga said that he respected Joyce for speaking directly with him and admitting his mistake. This episode was one of those epic moments that not only shows sportsmanship at its best, but also consideration, respect, truthfulness, forgiveness, and, most of all, humility. Jim Joyce was overwhelmed by this experience that should have its own exhibit in the Baseball Hall of Fame for how Joyce and Galarraga graciously handled what could have been a difficult moment. They demonstrated a level of humility not often matched in professional sports.
Humility - in Hebrew, ANAVAH –stands at the top of any list of Jewish values for our behavior and character. During our summer study series based on Rabbi Joseph Telushkin’s book, A CODE OF JEWISH ETHICS, several congregants joined me in studying Jewish teachings about humility. We learned that Moses Maimonides, the great Jewish philosopher of the 12th Century, taught that we should place ourselves in the middle of the spectrum on most personality traits. He advised, “Don’t be hot-tempered or easily angered, nor should you be unfeeling. Keep an even disposition, reserving your anger for occasions when it is truly warranted.” However, when it came to humility, Maimonides was clear: “One should move away from the one end of the spectrum, arrogance, and adopt the other – extreme humility.”
We don’t have a specific prayer for humility in our prayerbook, but this value permeates our High Holy Day worship. It is at the foundation of admitting what we have done wrong, being willing to confess our sins, and acknowledging that we each have room for personal growth. There is, however, an 1800 year-old prayer about avoiding humility’s opposite – arrogance. Rabbi Judah Hanasi, the leader of the Jewish community in Palestine under the Romans, would pray these words silently to himself after concluding the T’filah with the prayer for peace: “May it be Your will, Eternal One, my God and God of my ancestors, to protect me, this day and every day, from insolence in others and from arrogance in myself. Save me from vicious people, from evil neighbors, and from corrupt companions. Preserve me from misfortune and from powers of destruction. Save me from harsh judgments; spare me from ruthless opponents.” When we discussed this prayer at the Board meeting on September 1, we noted how Judah Hanasi was both a rabbi leading the Jewish community and a representative to the Roman authorities. He dealt on a daily basis with prayer, Torah study and governmental politics. One could easily imagine why Judah would want to be saved from evil neighbors, corrupt companions, and ruthless opponents. By asking to be shielded from his own arrogance, Judah demonstrated an admirable level of self-awareness. He readily recognized that it was entirely possible, by virtue of his position of leadership, to unintentionally slip away from the humility which he hoped to sustain in his relationships with his colleagues and the entire community. Well before Maimonides established extreme humility as a goal for each person’s character development, Judah Hanasi realized that it was within his power to choose to be humble so that he could set an example for the people who looked to him for guidance.
Judah Hanasi needed only to look at his own heritage to find examples of humility. In the Bible, he would have read about Abraham cautiously approaching God in an argument regarding the planned demise of Sodom and Gomorrah. Abraham prefaced his remarks to the Eternal One by saying, “I am but dust and ashes,” admitting that he didn’t think he was worthy to challenge God, although he continued to plead his case. Numbers Chapter 12 said of Moses: “Now Moses was a very humble man, more so than any other human being on earth.” Moses’ humility came from the fact that he didn’t seek his position of leadership – it sought him out and designated him for his mission to lead the Israelites to freedom. The prophet Micah proclaimed that, more than anything else, God requires us to “do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with God.” Joseph Telushkin explained that it says “walk humbly with God” for a reason. If it only said, “walk with God,” people who believe that God is only on their side could become arrogant and cruel, committing acts of prejudice, hatred or violence in the name of God. Or, they may seek to relentlessly control a situation, whether through extreme rhetoric or hostile action. The Torah was teaching us that the best way to walk with God is with humility and modesty. That teaching of Micah, and the examples of Abraham and Moses, were wholeheartedly followed by students in the School of the renowned teacher Hillel 2000 years ago. The Talmud explained that rulings of the School of Hillel were accepted more often than the position of their colleagues and opponents within the school of Shammai. Why? Because the school of Hillel studied all the views of the School of Shammai, whether they agreed with those views or not. When students of the School of Hillel would discuss a particular issue, they would cite their opponents’ views before they stated their own. There were cases in which the School of Hillel adopted the views of the School of Shammai when they realized that the their opponents’ position made more sense than their own view. Imagine what our own political process would look like if more candidates would thoughtfully speak about the views of their rivals in the course of a campaign. And, picture, for a moment, a United States Congress in which more and more legislators would be humble enough to admit that some of the ideas of their political rivals have merit, rather than dismissing an idea simply because it emanated from a senator or representative who had the wrong party label. There have been times when this has actually happened. Perhaps some of us would agree that now would be a good time for this type of humility to enable our national leaders to find more common ground.
As I prepared to talk about humility tonight, I realized that I needed to follow the examples of Abraham, Moses, the School of Hillel and Judah Hanasi. Jewish tradition has much to say about specific rules regarding how to be humble. Before I went to Jewish texts, I asked my facebook friends and Temple members to define humility and offer examples of being humble. I am in awe of the responses I received. It is my honor to present these views about humility, with many of these statements echoing the most meaningful standards from our long Jewish heritage of study and commentary:
• Humility is being able to recognize that everyone, including ourselves, has flaws and not being too proud to admit when you are not always right.
• Humility is admitting my humanness, imperfections and all, to myself, God, and another human being. I am humbled when I receive the grace of someone’s love, forgiveness, or gratitude. I am humbled when I ask God for guidance, and I receive it.
• Humility is a virtue that I value highly. One approach is to identify the opposite of humility, which, I believe, is is arrogance. It is easier to spot an arrogant person than a humble person and so, by definition, the most basic aspect of humility is that all people are treated equal. The second defining quality is that humility values excellence in all things, but it doesn't define and value people by their accomplishments, money, possessions, children's accomplishments or even their clothing style. Humility tries to look past the obvious, the outer, the tangible toward what is intangible and lasting. The humble person realizes that in the scheme of things we are but a speck in the history of the world and there are forces much stronger, more enduring and powerful than a mere mortal.
• Humility is like Charlotte the spider in the book Charlotte's Web - Not proud and close to the ground.
• Humility may be doing something just because it is the right thing to do and not expecting recognition or reward or praise for one's actions, and putting others before oneself.
• Humility may be related to the word “humiliate” - Synonyms for humility are humbleness, modesty, unassuming nature, and meekness. Synonyms for humiliate are disgrace, put down, debase, and humble. To be humble is seen as positive. To be humbled or to humble another person is, in some cases, not so positive, and in others, unfortunately necessary.
• Humility comes when you realize that there are very few things that you can really know for sure about the bigger questions: how life began, God, whether your politics are really correct, whether your religion is any more on the mark than any other one, and what really motivates another human being.
• Humility is knowing what you can and can’t control, like the weather and, sometimes, emotions; knowing your limits and your strengths and using either at the appropriate time; appreciating the awesomeness of Creation. We are each a part of that bigger whole. Humility is being a parent or a teacher and being taught important life lessons - patience, unconditional love, stopping to smell the roses, see the bugs, or the "picture" in a cloud - by someone a generation or two behind you.
• Humility involves two intertwined concepts. Do be humble - one should strive to be modest and unimposing. Don't be arrogant - one should strive to be respectful of others' opinions and situations and not flaunt about one's perceived superiority. By being modest, one would not stand out in a crowd, and thus not bring unnecessary attention. Arrogance, while generally unappealing, will also result in intense scrutiny and possibly strong reactions. I guess this contributes to my defining myself as a 20th-Century man, one who values privacy, unlike today's culture where a Facebook wall proclaims everything for all to see. While I am proud to be who I am, I don't feel the need to share that without reason, in attempt to prove my worth to others. You might call this "Defensive Humility. "
• Humility is knowing your place in the world - not too great, not too small, and inhabiting that place with dignity and courage.
• Humility is the absence of “it’s all about me.”
• Humility is being aware and tuning in to others’ needs then placing their greater needs before your own; being very aware of your own egos' needs and stepping aside or down while you help to elevate the beauty in another; apologizing to someone you have injured when your ego was stamping its feet!!
• Humility is knowing when and HOW to say 'I'm sorry' by words and actions, and also to remember to say “thank you.”
• Humility is, whether working with others or dealing with family, when conflicts arise, seeing the other opinion as well as your own and acting on the conflict with an open heart. When another person has a glorified moment, humility is thinking of that other person first and rejoicing in his or her success before thinking about how that glory and success makes you feel about yourself.
• Humility is feeling overwhelmed at the thought of what someone has gone through, and silently acknowledging the challenges he or she has faced or still needs to face now. Examples are: seeing the tattoos of someone who has survived the holocaust; seeing a soldier with one leg; seeing a mom with a young baby, her head wrapped in a bandanna because she's lost her hair from cancer treatments. There's a feeling that there's nothing you could possibly do or say to take this thing away from them, though you really want to….The truth is, though, that people handle life's downfalls because they have to. There is no other option for them. That is what is really humbling.
• Humility is about taking one's self out of the equation.
• Humility is helping to face a crisis without feeling the need to tell people what we have done, leading by example, not by statement.
• Humility is being a lifelong learner and willing to accept that others have knowledge to offer you. Even if you think you know it all, you have something to learn from everyone. Humility is the point when you truly listen and hear the wisdom that surrounds you.
• Humility is recognizing your own gifts but being able to see and stand in awe of the gifts of others, and to acknowledge how the strengths, abilities, and talents of others can inspire us to better ourselves.
• Humility is recognizing that some of the annoying behaviors of people in our lives may be, in part, their responses to what they experience as our annoying behaviors.
• Humility is a state in which one recognizes that he/she is no more or less important than anyone else, in the grand scheme of things.
• Humility is realizing that we are but a part of a universe filled with awe-inspiring miracles.
• Humility is related to and expressed through gratitude.
• Humility is realizing that you may not be indispensable, but that you are definitely special for the unique perspective and gifts you bring to others.
• Humility can mean preparing yourself to let go of what is yours so that others can take up the mantle.
Many of these definitions of humility came together for me as I reflected on the book, The Council of Dads, by author Bruce Feiler. This book chronicled Feiler’s months of diagnosis and treatment for bone cancer in his leg. He knew he wanted to leave to his wife and daughters a special legacy in the event that he might not survive the treatment. Feiler described his feelings at not being able to share in the future of the lives of his daughters in this way: “Would they wonder who I was? Would they yearn for my approval, my love, my voice? A few days later, I imagined a way I might give them my voice. I would reach out to six men, from all parts of my life – beginning when I was a child and continuing through today. These are the men who know me best. The men who share my values. The men who know my voice.” After he completed his treatment and recovery, Feiler created a national movement by which fathers facing challenges to their health and well-being could create their own council of dads and share their legacy. I was struck by Feiler’s comments about the parent-child relationship and how it relates, in many ways, to humility across the generations: “If the paradox of being a parent is that we must make ourselves unneeded, the paradox of being a child is that you discover how much you need your parents only after you think you don’t. You spend your whole lives making yourself independent. You go forth on your own. And at exactly the moment you stop listening to us, you finally hear what we’ve been saying all along.”
Humility is not only about what happens inside of us in our attitudes towards others, but also about the fact that we need each other – as companions, as sources of support and comfort, as partners in facing moments of joy and in meeting difficult challenges, as friends, as teachers, and as fellow travelers who will gaze in wonder at life’s landscape as we continue on our journey. It was that sense of wonder and an awareness of life’s “big picture” that led Umpire Jim Joyce and Pitcher Armando Galarraga to a shared moment of humility, mutual respect and grace. And at this moment, in the sanctuary, recognizing how much we need one another is at the heart of these High Holy Days, because our prayers of confession are spoken with the word “We,” not “I.” As members of a KAHAL KADOSH, a sacred community, we are all responsible for helping each other grow in integrity and humility, and not only thinking in terms of avoiding arrogance. Rabbi Judah Hanasi’s prayer about arrogance can easily be turned into a meditation that can lead us along the path towards making greater humility an integral part of our character. I share this with you as we face the coming year together: May it be Your will, Eternal One, our God and God of our ancestors, to keep us in the presence of those who are kind and respectful and to preserve humility in ourselves. Enable us to find people of integrity, good neighbors, and honest companions. Open our eyes to the goodness around us and to the power and wisdom that can create such goodness. May we positively judge ourselves, our neighbors and even those who disagree with us. And always enable us to see the spark of God that lives within all people and that resides within the world around us.” On this Day of Atonement, so may we do as a humble and holy community and congregation. And let us say Amen.
Thank you to my colleagues and teachers…….
Michael Behrendt, Carol Birch, Cathi Cherry-Liston, Andy Diengott, Jonathan Flagg, Roberta Goldsmith, Scott Halasz, Ann Isacoff, Betty Kaplan, Mike Kahn, Rhonda Karol, Glicka Kaplan, Carole Krassner, Susan Liotta, Julie Low, Cathy Lesser Mansfield, Marilyn Mars, Joshua Meyrowitz, Alan Nasberg, Rabbi Louis Rieser, Jessica Rouchard-Vollmer, Rabbi Sarah Niebuhr Rubin, Susan Fellner Schanerman, Julie Serrano, Karen Shectman, Warren Sickel, Ruthie Spiero, Andrea Riccardi Stone, Randy Thomas.
Thoughts on Common Ties - September 16, 2010
Shabbat Shalom and Gamru Chatimah Tovah – May you be sealed for a good year!
I will be touching upon a broader issue that relates to the proposed Islamic Cultural/Community Center that would be located two blocks from the actual site of Ground Zero in Manhattan. I wanted to provide you with some of the resources and websites that I sometimes consult for issues related to religious freedom and interreligious dialogue and cooperation.
My experiences in my previous community included regular contact with members of the local Islamic Center. The American-born Imam had done masonry work on the Temple building in the late 1970s. The members of the Center were born in the United States or had immigrated to the United States in recent years. One president of the center was in the Internal Medicine practice that served our family for 18 years.
What I discovered was that ongoing contact with members of the interfaith community engendered ties that began with getting to know one another and develop a level of trust. We did not agree on everything, nor did we discuss all political issues. I heard statements, at times, that made me uncomfortable from members of the Islamic Center, but I also had a number of opportunities to discuss Middle East peace talks in the years following the Gulf War and the Oslo Accords. It was the contact and cooperation in which we engaged in good times that made it possible to calmly discuss politically-charged issues.
Finally, what is most important for members of any religious group was to see where their faith take them in terms of personal behavior and values. Based on my experiences throughout my rabbinate, Muslims, Mormons, Catholics, members of various Protestant denominations, Unitarian Universalists, Neo-Pagans, Buddhists, Hindus, Sikhs and Jews all find common ground when it came to giving thanks for the religious freedom in our country and teaching the principles of commitment, cooperation, kindness, charity and justice to each other and to our children.
Below are links that relate to the Islamic Community Center issue, but, even more important than reading these materials is to take every opportunity we have to develop relationships with members of various faith groups (as well as those who may not belong to a particular group) so that we can create deeper understanding of each other and greater trust, which can only strengthen our community.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Union for Reform Judaism Social Action web page with a variety of articles on the issue.
http://urj.org/socialaction/issues/muslimdialogue/
Jews On First, which advocates for freedom for all religious groups, created its own report and evaluation of this controversy. The group takes a liberal approach to religious freedom that is avowedly in opposition to groups like the American Center for Law and Justice.
http://www.jewsonfirst.org/10a/CulCenterPr.aspx
The Anti-Defamation League is part of a new coalition to assure religious freedom for Muslims seeking to building houses of worship, the Interfaith Coalition on Mosques.
http://www.adl.org/main_interfaith/ICOM_Statement_of_Purpose.htm
I will be touching upon a broader issue that relates to the proposed Islamic Cultural/Community Center that would be located two blocks from the actual site of Ground Zero in Manhattan. I wanted to provide you with some of the resources and websites that I sometimes consult for issues related to religious freedom and interreligious dialogue and cooperation.
My experiences in my previous community included regular contact with members of the local Islamic Center. The American-born Imam had done masonry work on the Temple building in the late 1970s. The members of the Center were born in the United States or had immigrated to the United States in recent years. One president of the center was in the Internal Medicine practice that served our family for 18 years.
What I discovered was that ongoing contact with members of the interfaith community engendered ties that began with getting to know one another and develop a level of trust. We did not agree on everything, nor did we discuss all political issues. I heard statements, at times, that made me uncomfortable from members of the Islamic Center, but I also had a number of opportunities to discuss Middle East peace talks in the years following the Gulf War and the Oslo Accords. It was the contact and cooperation in which we engaged in good times that made it possible to calmly discuss politically-charged issues.
Finally, what is most important for members of any religious group was to see where their faith take them in terms of personal behavior and values. Based on my experiences throughout my rabbinate, Muslims, Mormons, Catholics, members of various Protestant denominations, Unitarian Universalists, Neo-Pagans, Buddhists, Hindus, Sikhs and Jews all find common ground when it came to giving thanks for the religious freedom in our country and teaching the principles of commitment, cooperation, kindness, charity and justice to each other and to our children.
Below are links that relate to the Islamic Community Center issue, but, even more important than reading these materials is to take every opportunity we have to develop relationships with members of various faith groups (as well as those who may not belong to a particular group) so that we can create deeper understanding of each other and greater trust, which can only strengthen our community.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Union for Reform Judaism Social Action web page with a variety of articles on the issue.
http://urj.org/socialaction/issues/muslimdialogue/
Jews On First, which advocates for freedom for all religious groups, created its own report and evaluation of this controversy. The group takes a liberal approach to religious freedom that is avowedly in opposition to groups like the American Center for Law and Justice.
http://www.jewsonfirst.org/10a/CulCenterPr.aspx
The Anti-Defamation League is part of a new coalition to assure religious freedom for Muslims seeking to building houses of worship, the Interfaith Coalition on Mosques.
http://www.adl.org/main_interfaith/ICOM_Statement_of_Purpose.htm
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Gifts for the Present and Future - September 1, 2010
“You are standing here, all of you, this day, before your Eternal God.” This phrase begins the Torah reading for this coming weekend, which we also read on Yom Kippur morning. This passage from Deuteronomy Chapter 29 portrays the Israelites gathered together – men, women, children – people of all ages and from all walks of life, ready to affirm their communal bonds.
These words could, just as well, describe any synagogue on the High Holy Days. It is always gratifying and heartwarming to see, at our main worship and family services, representatives of several generations sitting together to welcome the New Year. Such a scene is one of the greatest illustrations of Jewish continuity, sustaining a firm foundation in our heritage that can be taken into the future.
What are the special gifts that members of all ages can bring to a congregation? Such a list might include:
Enthusiasm
Curiosity
Spirit
Commitment
Optimism
Ingenuity
Creativity
Devotion
Appreciation
Insight
Understanding
Strength
Perspective
Wisdom
Knowledge
Generosity
Openness
Patience
Perseverance
Hope
As Temple Israel moves forward into another year, a combination of all of these gifts will guide us through moments of trial and triumph, times of challenge and celebration. We don’t know what the coming months will bring, but we do know that our participation in community life will enable us to make real the phrase that we recite as we end each book of the Torah: “Chazak, chazak, v’nitchazeik”– Be strong, be strong, and let us strengthen one another.” May we do this as partners looking with hope towards the beginning of the New Year of 5771.
These words could, just as well, describe any synagogue on the High Holy Days. It is always gratifying and heartwarming to see, at our main worship and family services, representatives of several generations sitting together to welcome the New Year. Such a scene is one of the greatest illustrations of Jewish continuity, sustaining a firm foundation in our heritage that can be taken into the future.
What are the special gifts that members of all ages can bring to a congregation? Such a list might include:
Enthusiasm
Curiosity
Spirit
Commitment
Optimism
Ingenuity
Creativity
Devotion
Appreciation
Insight
Understanding
Strength
Perspective
Wisdom
Knowledge
Generosity
Openness
Patience
Perseverance
Hope
As Temple Israel moves forward into another year, a combination of all of these gifts will guide us through moments of trial and triumph, times of challenge and celebration. We don’t know what the coming months will bring, but we do know that our participation in community life will enable us to make real the phrase that we recite as we end each book of the Torah: “Chazak, chazak, v’nitchazeik”– Be strong, be strong, and let us strengthen one another.” May we do this as partners looking with hope towards the beginning of the New Year of 5771.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Making our own blessings - August 27, 2010
What is it that binds us to community? It may be shared history or interests, a desire to belong to a larger group, an enjoyment of a feeling of connection, or the intangible rewards that come from serving others. We always hope that the results of our involvement and participation will be positive and bring us benefit.
In the Torah reading for this week, the Israelites received the command to give thanks for settling in the land by bringing the first fruits of their harvest and reciting their history in a declaration that begins, “My father was a fugitive Aramean.” This text is included in the Passover Haggadah, and we recite it every year as we celebrate the ideal of freedom. This week’s Torah portion also focuses on blessings.and curses. “Blessed shall you be in the city and blessed shall you be in the country” applied to those who kept God’s commandments. For those who didn’t follow the divine path, the word “blessed” in that line read, instead, “cursed.”
Most of us wouldn’t think in such stark terms, but we know about participating in a community. I watched my parents volunteer for various positions at my home congregation for many years. I learned from them that, no matter what happened in relations between people in the course of Temple life, the basic principles of Judaism were always paramount. The words of Hillel continue to serve as a maxim for all of us:
“What is hateful to you, don’t do to your fellow human being. That is the whole Torah – all the rest is commentary. Now go and study” – AND – “If I am not for myself, who will be for me? If I am only for myself, what am I? If not now, when?” –AND – “Don’t separate yourself from the community.” No one is an island in a community. Negativity, gossip, lack of cooperation, a desire for control, and unwillingness to see the necessity of true partnership with others may not be sources of blessing as much as an attitude that directs us to give of ourselves for the sake of giving, and to find the positive and the blessings around us at any given moment.
By remembering what unites us in history, in prayer, in learning, and in partnership, we can bring blessing upon ourselves and our community. May such thoughts guide us in the approaching New Year.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry K.
In the Torah reading for this week, the Israelites received the command to give thanks for settling in the land by bringing the first fruits of their harvest and reciting their history in a declaration that begins, “My father was a fugitive Aramean.” This text is included in the Passover Haggadah, and we recite it every year as we celebrate the ideal of freedom. This week’s Torah portion also focuses on blessings.and curses. “Blessed shall you be in the city and blessed shall you be in the country” applied to those who kept God’s commandments. For those who didn’t follow the divine path, the word “blessed” in that line read, instead, “cursed.”
Most of us wouldn’t think in such stark terms, but we know about participating in a community. I watched my parents volunteer for various positions at my home congregation for many years. I learned from them that, no matter what happened in relations between people in the course of Temple life, the basic principles of Judaism were always paramount. The words of Hillel continue to serve as a maxim for all of us:
“What is hateful to you, don’t do to your fellow human being. That is the whole Torah – all the rest is commentary. Now go and study” – AND – “If I am not for myself, who will be for me? If I am only for myself, what am I? If not now, when?” –AND – “Don’t separate yourself from the community.” No one is an island in a community. Negativity, gossip, lack of cooperation, a desire for control, and unwillingness to see the necessity of true partnership with others may not be sources of blessing as much as an attitude that directs us to give of ourselves for the sake of giving, and to find the positive and the blessings around us at any given moment.
By remembering what unites us in history, in prayer, in learning, and in partnership, we can bring blessing upon ourselves and our community. May such thoughts guide us in the approaching New Year.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry K.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Responsibility and an Open Hand-August 20, 2010
Unemployment and foreclosures are, sadly, still prominent on the landscape of current economic news. Many people in our country – and around the world – are feeling the effects of current challenges. Proposals to bring about a stronger recovery, hinge upon divergent views about the role of government, companies/corporations, taxes (or tax cuts) and the free market. Some believe that less control will bring about recovery sooner, while others believe that more stringent regulation will generate more generous behavior. At this point, various experts and legislators believe they know what is right, but their knowledge isn’t necessarily bringing about the desired solution as soon as had been hoped.
The question I have always had regarding how we treat those who are in the most dire straits during economic downturns relates to responsibility. We hope that someone will step forward to say, “I can help!” Responsible acts of tzedakah (righteous giving) and g’milut chasadim (deeds of lovingkindness), on a large or even small scale, are not always forthcoming.
In the Torah reading for this week, KI TETZEI, the nature of responsibility (and procedures for fulfilling a responsibility) is plainly spelled out. In Deuteronomy Chapter 24, it notes that…
1) If you make a loan to someone and they offer, for example, a garment, as collateral or a “pledge”, you cannot enter the home (forcibly or not) to take the pledge – you have to give the person the chance to bring it out to you (to lend dignity to the transaction).
2) Don’t abuse a needy and destitute laborer, whether a fellow Israelite or a stranger in one of your communities – specifically, pay your workers their wages on the same day, before the sun sets, because your worker urgently depends on those wages.
The rules in their Torah were intended to boost the self-esteem and self-worth of every person, both the lender and the person taking out the loan, and both employer and employee. If there was a feeling that one was superior to another, these rules tried to create more of a balance between the two. Despite economic inequity, everyone was responsible for preserving, on some level, a sense of equality.
We should hope to see, today, that same dignity and sense of equality as part of both the treatment of people truly facing serious personal economic challenges and the solutions that are being proposed to take us forward to greater prosperity in which many people will be able to share. Even in difficult times, perhaps these ancient standards can still move us to sustain a benevolent society that can open its hand to people in need.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry K.
The question I have always had regarding how we treat those who are in the most dire straits during economic downturns relates to responsibility. We hope that someone will step forward to say, “I can help!” Responsible acts of tzedakah (righteous giving) and g’milut chasadim (deeds of lovingkindness), on a large or even small scale, are not always forthcoming.
In the Torah reading for this week, KI TETZEI, the nature of responsibility (and procedures for fulfilling a responsibility) is plainly spelled out. In Deuteronomy Chapter 24, it notes that…
1) If you make a loan to someone and they offer, for example, a garment, as collateral or a “pledge”, you cannot enter the home (forcibly or not) to take the pledge – you have to give the person the chance to bring it out to you (to lend dignity to the transaction).
2) Don’t abuse a needy and destitute laborer, whether a fellow Israelite or a stranger in one of your communities – specifically, pay your workers their wages on the same day, before the sun sets, because your worker urgently depends on those wages.
The rules in their Torah were intended to boost the self-esteem and self-worth of every person, both the lender and the person taking out the loan, and both employer and employee. If there was a feeling that one was superior to another, these rules tried to create more of a balance between the two. Despite economic inequity, everyone was responsible for preserving, on some level, a sense of equality.
We should hope to see, today, that same dignity and sense of equality as part of both the treatment of people truly facing serious personal economic challenges and the solutions that are being proposed to take us forward to greater prosperity in which many people will be able to share. Even in difficult times, perhaps these ancient standards can still move us to sustain a benevolent society that can open its hand to people in need.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry K.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Unclouded Justice - August 13, 2010
Shabbat Shalom!
In our society, justice is in the eye of the beholder. I am certain that people from various political parties, and groups like the Tea Party and the Coffee Party, would offer very different perspectives and definitions. Justice can mean making sure that everyone has their “fair share,” but there are strong disagreements on how to make that happen (whether by less or more regulations). Justice can mean evaluating people’s actions or behavior, sometimes in a court of law, and often, today, in the “court” of public opinion, hopefully with all the facts at hand. The recent case of USDA official Shirley Sherrod demonstrated how information can be altered in such a way as to create an unfair judgment that may seem just to the person sharing the information, but in the end, is totally unfair to the one who is accused of wrongdoing.
We don’t always know about people’s motives when it comes to justice, but Judaism makes it clear in the beginning of this week’s Torah reading, SHOFTIM, how we should approach justice:
1) Be fair and impartial – judge or decide according to the merits of a case and not the station of the people involved
2) Let nothing stand in the way of judgment so as to cloud one’s vision, whether bribes, or ideology, or an unwillingness to listen to someone’s plea.
3) Pursuing justice means to be eager to make justice and fairness a reality.
4) When the Torah says “Justice, Justice shall you pursue,” it can refer to fairness in a court setting and equality within society, but it can also mean to seek justice in a just way. An end, the ultimate goal of justice should not be reached using unjust and unethical means.
We have a great responsibility to be fair and just in how we live as members of a community. The Torah teaches us to listen, to let nothing blind us from the truth or skew our vision and sense of propriety, and to use the best tact and wisdom at our disposal when we express our opinions and render decisions on crucial issues at hand. The rabbis said in the Sayings of the Rabbis, Pirkei Avot, “the more justice, the more peace.” May we make our community and our world more complete as we continue to pursue both justice and peace with eagerness and dedication.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
In our society, justice is in the eye of the beholder. I am certain that people from various political parties, and groups like the Tea Party and the Coffee Party, would offer very different perspectives and definitions. Justice can mean making sure that everyone has their “fair share,” but there are strong disagreements on how to make that happen (whether by less or more regulations). Justice can mean evaluating people’s actions or behavior, sometimes in a court of law, and often, today, in the “court” of public opinion, hopefully with all the facts at hand. The recent case of USDA official Shirley Sherrod demonstrated how information can be altered in such a way as to create an unfair judgment that may seem just to the person sharing the information, but in the end, is totally unfair to the one who is accused of wrongdoing.
We don’t always know about people’s motives when it comes to justice, but Judaism makes it clear in the beginning of this week’s Torah reading, SHOFTIM, how we should approach justice:
1) Be fair and impartial – judge or decide according to the merits of a case and not the station of the people involved
2) Let nothing stand in the way of judgment so as to cloud one’s vision, whether bribes, or ideology, or an unwillingness to listen to someone’s plea.
3) Pursuing justice means to be eager to make justice and fairness a reality.
4) When the Torah says “Justice, Justice shall you pursue,” it can refer to fairness in a court setting and equality within society, but it can also mean to seek justice in a just way. An end, the ultimate goal of justice should not be reached using unjust and unethical means.
We have a great responsibility to be fair and just in how we live as members of a community. The Torah teaches us to listen, to let nothing blind us from the truth or skew our vision and sense of propriety, and to use the best tact and wisdom at our disposal when we express our opinions and render decisions on crucial issues at hand. The rabbis said in the Sayings of the Rabbis, Pirkei Avot, “the more justice, the more peace.” May we make our community and our world more complete as we continue to pursue both justice and peace with eagerness and dedication.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Friday, August 6, 2010
Giving....and Getting Closer - August 6, 2010
Shabbat Shalom!
Being a member of a community presents an opportunity and, even more, includes a responsibility, to contribute something to strengthen the well-being of the group. Over the last few days, I attended the first convention of newCAJE, a "resurrection" of the Conference on Alternatives in Jewish Education (CAJE) that was required to close its doors two years ago. The convention was held at Gann Academy (a Jewish high school) in Waltham, with housing provided through Bentley University next door to the school. The "old" CAJE always brought together educators/school principals, rabbis, cantors, religious school teachers, artists, musicians, storytellers, college professors, and lay leaders for several days of learning, camaraderie, music, and community building. It was always a highlight of my year because everyone was equal in having a chance to offer something unique to the community. While I never led a workshop on my own at CAJE, I did sing in the CAJE Chorale led for many years by Debbie Friedman. Once I released my first CD in 2003, I performed a set of original music as a way of sharing my spirit and beliefs. It was sad to see CAJE end its run of over 30 years in late 2008.
NewCAJE was coordinated totally by volunteers, many of whom had been a part of the CAJE experience. In order to make a more significant contribution to this "resurrection" of a very valuable conference, I adapted my Crane Lake Camp 2009 mini-course, "God on my iPod," for a session that I led on my own. 15 people attended my workshop on Tuesday, and we had a lively and enriching discussion about God and about secular/popular songs that touched upon various beliefs that relate, in some way, to our own. Between that workshop, singing two songs during the Monday evening program, and simply being there, my giving was returned several times over with the blessing of being a part of this community of colleagues and friends.
In the Torah reading for this week, the Israelites were told to appear at the place where God would cause the divine name to dwell (eventually, the Temple in Jerusalem) three times a year - on the major festivals, including this special instruction: "They shall not appear before the Eternal empty-handed, but each with his/her own gift." Everyone, no matter what their station among their people, had something to offer that would enhance the well-being of the people. Specifically, this passage was talking about animal or grain sacrifices. Yet, the word for sacrifice, KORBAN, comes from the root meaning "to draw near." Bringing gifts brought the people closer not only to God, but also to each other, as, together, they presented the best of what they had to share.
We have this same opportunity to offer our wisdom, talents, enthusiasm, energy, and all kinds of support to a community. Giving brings us close to the values that we prize, but, more importantly, it can bring us closer to each other as we engage in our giving together.
As the High Holy Days approach in a few weeks, may we all think about the ways in which we can give with a positive attitude and with the confidence that what we give will truly make a difference!
L'shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Being a member of a community presents an opportunity and, even more, includes a responsibility, to contribute something to strengthen the well-being of the group. Over the last few days, I attended the first convention of newCAJE, a "resurrection" of the Conference on Alternatives in Jewish Education (CAJE) that was required to close its doors two years ago. The convention was held at Gann Academy (a Jewish high school) in Waltham, with housing provided through Bentley University next door to the school. The "old" CAJE always brought together educators/school principals, rabbis, cantors, religious school teachers, artists, musicians, storytellers, college professors, and lay leaders for several days of learning, camaraderie, music, and community building. It was always a highlight of my year because everyone was equal in having a chance to offer something unique to the community. While I never led a workshop on my own at CAJE, I did sing in the CAJE Chorale led for many years by Debbie Friedman. Once I released my first CD in 2003, I performed a set of original music as a way of sharing my spirit and beliefs. It was sad to see CAJE end its run of over 30 years in late 2008.
NewCAJE was coordinated totally by volunteers, many of whom had been a part of the CAJE experience. In order to make a more significant contribution to this "resurrection" of a very valuable conference, I adapted my Crane Lake Camp 2009 mini-course, "God on my iPod," for a session that I led on my own. 15 people attended my workshop on Tuesday, and we had a lively and enriching discussion about God and about secular/popular songs that touched upon various beliefs that relate, in some way, to our own. Between that workshop, singing two songs during the Monday evening program, and simply being there, my giving was returned several times over with the blessing of being a part of this community of colleagues and friends.
In the Torah reading for this week, the Israelites were told to appear at the place where God would cause the divine name to dwell (eventually, the Temple in Jerusalem) three times a year - on the major festivals, including this special instruction: "They shall not appear before the Eternal empty-handed, but each with his/her own gift." Everyone, no matter what their station among their people, had something to offer that would enhance the well-being of the people. Specifically, this passage was talking about animal or grain sacrifices. Yet, the word for sacrifice, KORBAN, comes from the root meaning "to draw near." Bringing gifts brought the people closer not only to God, but also to each other, as, together, they presented the best of what they had to share.
We have this same opportunity to offer our wisdom, talents, enthusiasm, energy, and all kinds of support to a community. Giving brings us close to the values that we prize, but, more importantly, it can bring us closer to each other as we engage in our giving together.
As the High Holy Days approach in a few weeks, may we all think about the ways in which we can give with a positive attitude and with the confidence that what we give will truly make a difference!
L'shalom,
Rabbi Larry
A Psalm for a Summer Day - July 30, 2010
Praise to You, our Creator,
for the wind rustling through the leaves,
for the sound of the waves approaching the shore as we bask in the warmth of the sun, for the time to travel, to rest, and to consider celebrations and challenges that lie ahead.
Give us insight, Eternal One, to understand our relationships within our family and community. Teach us to be patient when there are disagreements, generous in how we approach each other, cooperative in our actions and our tone rather than combative or even suspicious.
Enable us to identify what is important in our lives. Remind us of the wealth that comes from wisdom, the prosperity that emerges from the feeling that we have preserved our own integrity in our thoughts and actions, and the recognition that comes not from celebrity status, but from having made a good name for ourselves which fosters a sense of respect and trust with our peers.
Help us understand the importance of fairness, whether we are playing a sport or working with others to sustain a community. Provide us with eyes that see the good in all people, so that past conflict will not preclude partnership in the present.
Heal a world that still knows too much war, too much hunger. Support those who have suffered from natural disasters, and offer us a gift of knowledge that can prevent tragedies caused by human arroagance or heartlessness.
May the sun, the moon and the stars that continue to shine upon us inspire us to bring blessing upon our own lives and to our families and our community.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry K.
for the wind rustling through the leaves,
for the sound of the waves approaching the shore as we bask in the warmth of the sun, for the time to travel, to rest, and to consider celebrations and challenges that lie ahead.
Give us insight, Eternal One, to understand our relationships within our family and community. Teach us to be patient when there are disagreements, generous in how we approach each other, cooperative in our actions and our tone rather than combative or even suspicious.
Enable us to identify what is important in our lives. Remind us of the wealth that comes from wisdom, the prosperity that emerges from the feeling that we have preserved our own integrity in our thoughts and actions, and the recognition that comes not from celebrity status, but from having made a good name for ourselves which fosters a sense of respect and trust with our peers.
Help us understand the importance of fairness, whether we are playing a sport or working with others to sustain a community. Provide us with eyes that see the good in all people, so that past conflict will not preclude partnership in the present.
Heal a world that still knows too much war, too much hunger. Support those who have suffered from natural disasters, and offer us a gift of knowledge that can prevent tragedies caused by human arroagance or heartlessness.
May the sun, the moon and the stars that continue to shine upon us inspire us to bring blessing upon our own lives and to our families and our community.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry K.
Turning Symbol into Action- July 23, 2010
Shabbat Shalom!
“Bind them as a sign upon your hand; let them be a symbol (or as “frontlets”) between your eyes. Write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.”
I can remember reciting these words with “thy” instead of “your” as I read from the Union Prayer Book I during Sabbath services at my home congregation, so much so that I can now type them by heart (as many people could). What comes to mind for most people when reading this passage are t’filin, which are worn on the arm and head, and the mezuzah, which is displayed by one’s front door at home and perhaps on inside doorways as well.
Some commentators suggest that there is another level to this passage. “Bind them as a sign upon your hand” can mean “apply the teachings of your heritage in the work of your hands.” “Let them be a symbol between your eyes” can mean “see the world, your relationships, and your own behavior through the lens of these commandments, which can lead you on a positive and productive path in life.” “Write them on the doorposts of your house and on your (city) gates” can mean “let what happens inside your home and in your city – how people act and how they treat each other – reflect the best of the teachings that have been passed down to you.”
So as we think about commandments that direct us to fairness, justice, compassion and treating each other with generosity and equity, may our recitation of these ancient words from the Torah be matched in all that we do, as members of families and communities, so that we help build a world founded in love and understanding.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
“Bind them as a sign upon your hand; let them be a symbol (or as “frontlets”) between your eyes. Write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.”
I can remember reciting these words with “thy” instead of “your” as I read from the Union Prayer Book I during Sabbath services at my home congregation, so much so that I can now type them by heart (as many people could). What comes to mind for most people when reading this passage are t’filin, which are worn on the arm and head, and the mezuzah, which is displayed by one’s front door at home and perhaps on inside doorways as well.
Some commentators suggest that there is another level to this passage. “Bind them as a sign upon your hand” can mean “apply the teachings of your heritage in the work of your hands.” “Let them be a symbol between your eyes” can mean “see the world, your relationships, and your own behavior through the lens of these commandments, which can lead you on a positive and productive path in life.” “Write them on the doorposts of your house and on your (city) gates” can mean “let what happens inside your home and in your city – how people act and how they treat each other – reflect the best of the teachings that have been passed down to you.”
So as we think about commandments that direct us to fairness, justice, compassion and treating each other with generosity and equity, may our recitation of these ancient words from the Torah be matched in all that we do, as members of families and communities, so that we help build a world founded in love and understanding.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Promises We Can Keep - July 16, 2010
Shabbat Shalom!
At the July 7 Board of Trustees meeting, Board members participated in my D’var Torah at the beginning of the meeting by developing a list of the promises and pledges that they make as leaders of the congregation. This list, which is also appropriate for all Temple members, has the potential to guide us in the coming months to add quality and vitality to our community:
Promises as Leaders (and Members) of Temple Israel of Dover
*Work for the welfare of the community
*Respect
*Impartiality
*Tolerance
*Promote Judaism and Jewish values
*Commitment (or keep commitments)
*Generosity of spirit
*Be ambassadors of Temple to the general community and prospective members
*Make our Temple community come alive
*Active participation
*Be open-hearted
There are items on this list that echo Moses’ “farewell speech” that begins the Book of Deuteronomy (in this week's Torah reading). In the first three chapters of Deuteronomy, Moses recounted the travels of the Israelites, and some of their struggles and challenges. He highlighted the delegation of judgment to magistrates who were to show no partiality, to carefully listen to those of both “high and low” station in the community when matters came before them. Moses included in his narrative the event (striking a rock to begin a flow of water instead of speaking to it, as he was commanded) that prevented him from crossing into Canaan with the Israelites. One has to admire Moses’ honesty in looking back, which enabled him set an example through his leadership. Rules that governed rituals and behavior were all important, and Moses had to follow them as much as the Israelites themselves. That was the only way in which he could effectively be a leader.
As we continue moving forward on our journey as members of a Temple community, may we set examples for each other, practicing the best of our values in all that we do!
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
At the July 7 Board of Trustees meeting, Board members participated in my D’var Torah at the beginning of the meeting by developing a list of the promises and pledges that they make as leaders of the congregation. This list, which is also appropriate for all Temple members, has the potential to guide us in the coming months to add quality and vitality to our community:
Promises as Leaders (and Members) of Temple Israel of Dover
*Work for the welfare of the community
*Respect
*Impartiality
*Tolerance
*Promote Judaism and Jewish values
*Commitment (or keep commitments)
*Generosity of spirit
*Be ambassadors of Temple to the general community and prospective members
*Make our Temple community come alive
*Active participation
*Be open-hearted
There are items on this list that echo Moses’ “farewell speech” that begins the Book of Deuteronomy (in this week's Torah reading). In the first three chapters of Deuteronomy, Moses recounted the travels of the Israelites, and some of their struggles and challenges. He highlighted the delegation of judgment to magistrates who were to show no partiality, to carefully listen to those of both “high and low” station in the community when matters came before them. Moses included in his narrative the event (striking a rock to begin a flow of water instead of speaking to it, as he was commanded) that prevented him from crossing into Canaan with the Israelites. One has to admire Moses’ honesty in looking back, which enabled him set an example through his leadership. Rules that governed rituals and behavior were all important, and Moses had to follow them as much as the Israelites themselves. That was the only way in which he could effectively be a leader.
As we continue moving forward on our journey as members of a Temple community, may we set examples for each other, practicing the best of our values in all that we do!
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Steps along our Journey - July 9, 2010
When my family would take car trips across the country when I was in elementary school, I remember how meticulously my father planned our itinerary in the days before Orbitz, Travelocity, AAA online, Mapquest, and GPS. He would purchase all the relevant Mobil Travel Guides and acquire all the maps we needed and plot the route himself. As we traveled, I was a partner in keeping an hourly mileage log. I became familiar with a variety of milestones on the highways through those trips which still stand me in good stead today (even on the New York Thruway and Mass Pike). As important as our daily destinations were, all those important points along the way showed how far we had come on our journey.
The Torah reading for this week in Numbers, Chapter 33, provides the Israelites’ detailed itinerary for their wanderings from Egypt to their final point of encampment before entering the land of Canaan. With the language, “They set out a point A and encamped at point B,” the entire trek was summarized in 49 verses, encompassing everywhere they had been as described in the books of Exodus, Leviticus and earlier in the book of Numbers. The 12th Century Jewish sage Moses Maimonides suggested that the Torah enumerated these stations along the way in order to legitimize and support the entire tale of what had happened in the Israelites’ travels: times of wonder, struggles with other peoples, and challenges among themselves. Maimonides suggested that this place-by-place review affirmed the miracle of a people wandering together for 40 years and remaining intact, even strong, as a people.
We sometimes map out our own lives like this on a resume, when we list our previous employment, but perhaps we take the time, on our own, to map out the stops along our life’s journey: places we have lived, the friendships we have made and that endure, significant milestones, our spiritual development and beliefs, as well as what values we prized the most at different stages of our lives. Every day is a step along our journey, and we can, like the Israelites, take the opportunity to remember where we have been in order to look back later and see how much we have accomplished in our lives.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
The Torah reading for this week in Numbers, Chapter 33, provides the Israelites’ detailed itinerary for their wanderings from Egypt to their final point of encampment before entering the land of Canaan. With the language, “They set out a point A and encamped at point B,” the entire trek was summarized in 49 verses, encompassing everywhere they had been as described in the books of Exodus, Leviticus and earlier in the book of Numbers. The 12th Century Jewish sage Moses Maimonides suggested that the Torah enumerated these stations along the way in order to legitimize and support the entire tale of what had happened in the Israelites’ travels: times of wonder, struggles with other peoples, and challenges among themselves. Maimonides suggested that this place-by-place review affirmed the miracle of a people wandering together for 40 years and remaining intact, even strong, as a people.
We sometimes map out our own lives like this on a resume, when we list our previous employment, but perhaps we take the time, on our own, to map out the stops along our life’s journey: places we have lived, the friendships we have made and that endure, significant milestones, our spiritual development and beliefs, as well as what values we prized the most at different stages of our lives. Every day is a step along our journey, and we can, like the Israelites, take the opportunity to remember where we have been in order to look back later and see how much we have accomplished in our lives.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Eyes closed, Eyes Open June 24, 2010
Shabbat Shalom!
When do we gain greater knowledge or have greater awareness, when our eyes are open or when our eyes are closed? When we say the Sh’ma, we are commanded to close our eyes so that we can concentrate on God and, especially, on the oneness that unites us all. We also know that, even with our eyes open, we can’t know everything. Appearances can be deceiving and don’t tell the whole story. It is like trying to evaluate a person’s character only by their words, when we know that the words may have little meaning until they are backed up by deeds.
In the Torah reading for this week, the prophet Balaam was called by Balak, King of Moab, to curse the Israelites. Instead, Balaam was allowed by God only to bless them. In the beginning of one of the sections of blessing uttered by Balaam, he declared, “Word of Balaam son of Beor, word of Balaam whose eye is true (literally in the Hebrew – whose eye is closed), word of him who hears God’s speech, who beholds visions from the Almighty, bowing low to the ground, but with eyes unveiled.” Balaam’s eyes were “unveiled,” but they were “true” BECAUSE they were CLOSED, not open. This passage teaches us about what can be seen and what can be known. Just because we think something isn’t seen – or, for that matter, heard – doesn’t mean it isn’t known or won’t be known. We reveal ourselves through our actions, no matter what we have said or done in public or private. Senator Joe Lieberman once said that, as a public figure, he tries to reach the same level of integrity in private as when he is serving in his leadership role. There is no difference. Behavior, language, and character must be consistent, because eyes that are closed or open will recognize any inconsistency.
Balaam could not curse a people that deserved blessing. In truth, everyone deserves a measure of blessing. Let us remember this as we continue to work together as a community.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
When do we gain greater knowledge or have greater awareness, when our eyes are open or when our eyes are closed? When we say the Sh’ma, we are commanded to close our eyes so that we can concentrate on God and, especially, on the oneness that unites us all. We also know that, even with our eyes open, we can’t know everything. Appearances can be deceiving and don’t tell the whole story. It is like trying to evaluate a person’s character only by their words, when we know that the words may have little meaning until they are backed up by deeds.
In the Torah reading for this week, the prophet Balaam was called by Balak, King of Moab, to curse the Israelites. Instead, Balaam was allowed by God only to bless them. In the beginning of one of the sections of blessing uttered by Balaam, he declared, “Word of Balaam son of Beor, word of Balaam whose eye is true (literally in the Hebrew – whose eye is closed), word of him who hears God’s speech, who beholds visions from the Almighty, bowing low to the ground, but with eyes unveiled.” Balaam’s eyes were “unveiled,” but they were “true” BECAUSE they were CLOSED, not open. This passage teaches us about what can be seen and what can be known. Just because we think something isn’t seen – or, for that matter, heard – doesn’t mean it isn’t known or won’t be known. We reveal ourselves through our actions, no matter what we have said or done in public or private. Senator Joe Lieberman once said that, as a public figure, he tries to reach the same level of integrity in private as when he is serving in his leadership role. There is no difference. Behavior, language, and character must be consistent, because eyes that are closed or open will recognize any inconsistency.
Balaam could not curse a people that deserved blessing. In truth, everyone deserves a measure of blessing. Let us remember this as we continue to work together as a community.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Monday, June 21, 2010
Remembering.... June 18, 2010
How do we pay tribute to our loved ones who have died?
Judaism offers rituals that help us through the initial days, weeks and months of mourning as well as the anniversaries of a death in future years. Lighting a yahrzeit candle, or simply remembering a relative who has died and considering his or her legacy, or putting a marker on the memorial wall before the Kaddish at a service at Temple Israel, can enable us to express feelings of connection and warmth that still abide with us.
In the Torah reading for this week, Chukat, the passages that speak of the deaths of Miriam and Aaron, Moses’ siblings, are brief, considering the impact that the two of them made on the Israelites. Death and the transition to new leadership were seen as a part of the cycle of community life, and the eulogizing that is not reported in the text likely took place in people’s own minds and hearts.
During our visit to the Midwest several weeks ago, Rhonda and I took the opportunity to stop by the graves of my parents at the cemetery that is in the shadow of the former site of my home congregation. We carry the memories of my parents with us all the time, but there was something special about being there and being able to put stones on their markers, and to think about what me might say to them about our life in New Hampshire, and what they might say to us in response.
I believe that we honor the memory of our loved ones not only through remembrance, but also through all that we do because of what they taught us and how they made an impact on our lives. We also have a chance, through our actions, to leave a legacy to future generations. May we do so in the best way possible.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Judaism offers rituals that help us through the initial days, weeks and months of mourning as well as the anniversaries of a death in future years. Lighting a yahrzeit candle, or simply remembering a relative who has died and considering his or her legacy, or putting a marker on the memorial wall before the Kaddish at a service at Temple Israel, can enable us to express feelings of connection and warmth that still abide with us.
In the Torah reading for this week, Chukat, the passages that speak of the deaths of Miriam and Aaron, Moses’ siblings, are brief, considering the impact that the two of them made on the Israelites. Death and the transition to new leadership were seen as a part of the cycle of community life, and the eulogizing that is not reported in the text likely took place in people’s own minds and hearts.
During our visit to the Midwest several weeks ago, Rhonda and I took the opportunity to stop by the graves of my parents at the cemetery that is in the shadow of the former site of my home congregation. We carry the memories of my parents with us all the time, but there was something special about being there and being able to put stones on their markers, and to think about what me might say to them about our life in New Hampshire, and what they might say to us in response.
I believe that we honor the memory of our loved ones not only through remembrance, but also through all that we do because of what they taught us and how they made an impact on our lives. We also have a chance, through our actions, to leave a legacy to future generations. May we do so in the best way possible.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Friday, June 11, 2010
Holy Moments June 11, 2010
Shabbat Shalom!
We are dedicating our new Tree of Life at our Shabbat Service on
June 11 (tonight) in memory of Lorraine Goren, who tirelessly worked
for our congregation and community. Already, several Temple families
have chosen to add a leaf to the tree to mark special milestones in
life, knowing that there may be other landmark events to come that will
also find their way onto the tree. This is one way to note that
certain times and moments in life are special and even sacred (KADOSH).
In the Torah portion for this week, Korach, possibly a relative of
Moses and Aaron, challenged the authority of the Israelite leaders by
claiming that, if all the Israelites were holy, how could Moses and
Aaron put themselves above everyone else? We know that true
leadership carries with it responsibility and requires an ability to
adapt and change. Torah commentator Yeshayahu Leibowitz saw Korach’s
assertion about the holiness of the Israelites to mean that “we have
achieved our goal and nothing more need be demanded of us” to be holy.
It was as if he was saying, and even boasting, “I am already holy and
don’t need to change.” Yet, what the Torah actually says (based on
from Leviticus Chapter 19, which includes the phrase, “Love your
neighbor as yourself) is “BE HOLY, for I, the Eternal your God, am
holy.” Holiness is about becoming, not being – it is a goal, not a
present state. Leaders and people like Korach think they have nothing
to learn from anyone or any new experience. Leaders and people like
Moses and Aaron see their own imperfections, lament the need to stand
firm in the face of overwhelming opposition, and are willing to learn
something new to move along the road towards greater effectiveness and
even holiness.
Every milestone in life gives us a new opportunity to take note of
who we are and where we are at any given moment, and where we want to
be in the future. Marking a special occasion in any way makes that
moment KADOSH, sacred, reminding us that embodied in our celebrations
is an admission that we can continue to learn and grow along our life’s
journey. May we continue together on this path of “becoming” in unity
and hope!
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
We are dedicating our new Tree of Life at our Shabbat Service on
June 11 (tonight) in memory of Lorraine Goren, who tirelessly worked
for our congregation and community. Already, several Temple families
have chosen to add a leaf to the tree to mark special milestones in
life, knowing that there may be other landmark events to come that will
also find their way onto the tree. This is one way to note that
certain times and moments in life are special and even sacred (KADOSH).
In the Torah portion for this week, Korach, possibly a relative of
Moses and Aaron, challenged the authority of the Israelite leaders by
claiming that, if all the Israelites were holy, how could Moses and
Aaron put themselves above everyone else? We know that true
leadership carries with it responsibility and requires an ability to
adapt and change. Torah commentator Yeshayahu Leibowitz saw Korach’s
assertion about the holiness of the Israelites to mean that “we have
achieved our goal and nothing more need be demanded of us” to be holy.
It was as if he was saying, and even boasting, “I am already holy and
don’t need to change.” Yet, what the Torah actually says (based on
from Leviticus Chapter 19, which includes the phrase, “Love your
neighbor as yourself) is “BE HOLY, for I, the Eternal your God, am
holy.” Holiness is about becoming, not being – it is a goal, not a
present state. Leaders and people like Korach think they have nothing
to learn from anyone or any new experience. Leaders and people like
Moses and Aaron see their own imperfections, lament the need to stand
firm in the face of overwhelming opposition, and are willing to learn
something new to move along the road towards greater effectiveness and
even holiness.
Every milestone in life gives us a new opportunity to take note of
who we are and where we are at any given moment, and where we want to
be in the future. Marking a special occasion in any way makes that
moment KADOSH, sacred, reminding us that embodied in our celebrations
is an admission that we can continue to learn and grow along our life’s
journey. May we continue together on this path of “becoming” in unity
and hope!
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Sharing the Spirit May 28, 2010
Shabbat Shalom!
(Commentary on Numbers 11:24-29)
Two young men spoke
as if a special spirit had touched them
in the same way that their leader
Moses
hoped that a godly wisdom
would rest upon the “elders”
enabling them to take on
responsibilities
tasks
and authority
while Moses would watch them lead
with trust and pride.
70 of those “leaders” joined
with Moses
at their center of community
the Tent of Meeting
waiting for the confidence
that would inspire them
to great heights.
But the two young men
Eldad and Medad
Were not elders at the Tent.
They were among the people
And still, a spirit had come upon them
A still small voice that had come alive
In a public way.
Moses’ deputy…intern….assistant
A leader-in-training, Joshua,
cried out, “Moses, restrain them!”
But Moses knew
That it would not take only the elders
To lead with wisdom
but, also, individuals among the people
Who would reflect
a divine and godly spirit
by exhibiting in their behavior
trust
respect
creativity
ingenuity
kindness
a soft voice
matched with a clarity and unity of purpose
that they hoped to share with the whole community.
It was not rebellion
That these two men “prophesying in the camp”
represented
but, rather, hope and partnership,
not meaning in any way to undermine
but, merely, to complement their leaders’ effforts
leaving their egos behind
and joining their souls
with the collective communal spirit.
So Moses welcomed their sudden inspiration
That, he knew, was not unauthorized.
He realized that
it had to have originated with an eternal Source.
So he said,
“Would that all of the people of the Eternal were prophets,
and that the Eternal would put a godly spirit upon them!”
May we
Find and reflect a positive and productive spirit
In our efforts and our work as a community
That demonstrates the best we have to offer
As we move forward
As partners and companions
Towards a common goal.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
(Commentary on Numbers 11:24-29)
Two young men spoke
as if a special spirit had touched them
in the same way that their leader
Moses
hoped that a godly wisdom
would rest upon the “elders”
enabling them to take on
responsibilities
tasks
and authority
while Moses would watch them lead
with trust and pride.
70 of those “leaders” joined
with Moses
at their center of community
the Tent of Meeting
waiting for the confidence
that would inspire them
to great heights.
But the two young men
Eldad and Medad
Were not elders at the Tent.
They were among the people
And still, a spirit had come upon them
A still small voice that had come alive
In a public way.
Moses’ deputy…intern….assistant
A leader-in-training, Joshua,
cried out, “Moses, restrain them!”
But Moses knew
That it would not take only the elders
To lead with wisdom
but, also, individuals among the people
Who would reflect
a divine and godly spirit
by exhibiting in their behavior
trust
respect
creativity
ingenuity
kindness
a soft voice
matched with a clarity and unity of purpose
that they hoped to share with the whole community.
It was not rebellion
That these two men “prophesying in the camp”
represented
but, rather, hope and partnership,
not meaning in any way to undermine
but, merely, to complement their leaders’ effforts
leaving their egos behind
and joining their souls
with the collective communal spirit.
So Moses welcomed their sudden inspiration
That, he knew, was not unauthorized.
He realized that
it had to have originated with an eternal Source.
So he said,
“Would that all of the people of the Eternal were prophets,
and that the Eternal would put a godly spirit upon them!”
May we
Find and reflect a positive and productive spirit
In our efforts and our work as a community
That demonstrates the best we have to offer
As we move forward
As partners and companions
Towards a common goal.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Friday, May 21, 2010
Moments of blessing - May 21, 2010
Shabbat Shalom!
One of the greatest privileges I have as a rabbi is to offer the priestly blessing - “May God bless you and keep you” - at a special event in the community. This excerpt from this week’s Torah portion remains as a marker of special memories and milestones. Some of you may have received this blessing at Consecration, Bar/Bat Mitzvah, Confirmation, a Wedding or a Conversion ceremony. And, you may not even remember being blessed with these words at a birth ceremony! In the last month, I have blessed a member at a conversion and pronounced these ancient phrases at two weddings. I will recite the priestly blessing at a b’rit milah later today (May 21) and at B’nei Mitzvah services on four of the next five weeks. I interpreted these words in my prayer that began a recent congregational meeting (see below). This past Wednesday, during our Religious School Shavuot service, we celebrated the Consecration of nine of our first and second graders. Go to the Temple facebook page by clicking on the link on the home page (you do not have to be a member of facebook to go to the Temple page) and click on the “photos” tab to see photographs from our May 19 service, including Consecration. There is one of me on my knees in front of the Consecrants, who are standing under my tallit which was held by our Madrichim (Religious School aides). Rather than bending over the children, I decided to get on my knees to be at their level and look into their eyes. The words YAEIR ADONAI PANAV EILECHA VIY’CHUNEKA – “May the light of the Eternal One’s face shine upon you and be gracious to you” – implied for me the necessity that the children should see faces shining upon them with pride and blessing, and not only that of their rabbi, but also their parents and the Temple community.
That vision of a special moment in the present holds a special promise for the future. May the spirit and vitality of our students, teachers, peers and fellow members lead us to greater closeness and accomplishment as we continue to work together to build our Temple community.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Prayer at a Congregational Meeting, May 16, 2010 – Rabbi Larry Karol
Eternal One, sometimes we may feel like we, ourselves, are the Israelites journeying on the Exodus from Egypt, winding our way to the Promised Land, facing difficulties with each passing day. Yet, even in the desert, we move forward, at first, with hesitation, and then, with optimism.
We read in the Torah that, in the desert, the Israelites took a census of their community, realizing that every person counted and could make a positive difference and assure a secure future. It was, in fact, in the desert, a place of challenge, that they became a community. In the same way, we, in crucial moments of discussion and decision, can grow ever closer as a community.
This week, we will read from the Torah familiar words of blessing –and as we hear them now, let us consider how we can bless each other….
May God bless us and keep us – and may we bless and keep each other through respect, cooperation, commitment and sincere concern.
May God look kindly upon us and be gracious to us – and may we look upon each other with kindness and a generosity of spirit, enabling us to find the spark of God in every person.
May God bestow favor upon us and grant us peace – and may we favor one another with the best of who we are – with integrity, with honesty and with purpose – to create among us today, and at all times, a sense of completeness and hope, unity and peace.
And let us say Amen.
One of the greatest privileges I have as a rabbi is to offer the priestly blessing - “May God bless you and keep you” - at a special event in the community. This excerpt from this week’s Torah portion remains as a marker of special memories and milestones. Some of you may have received this blessing at Consecration, Bar/Bat Mitzvah, Confirmation, a Wedding or a Conversion ceremony. And, you may not even remember being blessed with these words at a birth ceremony! In the last month, I have blessed a member at a conversion and pronounced these ancient phrases at two weddings. I will recite the priestly blessing at a b’rit milah later today (May 21) and at B’nei Mitzvah services on four of the next five weeks. I interpreted these words in my prayer that began a recent congregational meeting (see below). This past Wednesday, during our Religious School Shavuot service, we celebrated the Consecration of nine of our first and second graders. Go to the Temple facebook page by clicking on the link on the home page (you do not have to be a member of facebook to go to the Temple page) and click on the “photos” tab to see photographs from our May 19 service, including Consecration. There is one of me on my knees in front of the Consecrants, who are standing under my tallit which was held by our Madrichim (Religious School aides). Rather than bending over the children, I decided to get on my knees to be at their level and look into their eyes. The words YAEIR ADONAI PANAV EILECHA VIY’CHUNEKA – “May the light of the Eternal One’s face shine upon you and be gracious to you” – implied for me the necessity that the children should see faces shining upon them with pride and blessing, and not only that of their rabbi, but also their parents and the Temple community.
That vision of a special moment in the present holds a special promise for the future. May the spirit and vitality of our students, teachers, peers and fellow members lead us to greater closeness and accomplishment as we continue to work together to build our Temple community.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Prayer at a Congregational Meeting, May 16, 2010 – Rabbi Larry Karol
Eternal One, sometimes we may feel like we, ourselves, are the Israelites journeying on the Exodus from Egypt, winding our way to the Promised Land, facing difficulties with each passing day. Yet, even in the desert, we move forward, at first, with hesitation, and then, with optimism.
We read in the Torah that, in the desert, the Israelites took a census of their community, realizing that every person counted and could make a positive difference and assure a secure future. It was, in fact, in the desert, a place of challenge, that they became a community. In the same way, we, in crucial moments of discussion and decision, can grow ever closer as a community.
This week, we will read from the Torah familiar words of blessing –and as we hear them now, let us consider how we can bless each other….
May God bless us and keep us – and may we bless and keep each other through respect, cooperation, commitment and sincere concern.
May God look kindly upon us and be gracious to us – and may we look upon each other with kindness and a generosity of spirit, enabling us to find the spark of God in every person.
May God bestow favor upon us and grant us peace – and may we favor one another with the best of who we are – with integrity, with honesty and with purpose – to create among us today, and at all times, a sense of completeness and hope, unity and peace.
And let us say Amen.
Counting Everyone! May 14, 2010
Shabbat Shalom!
The nomination of Elena Kagan to the Supreme Court brings with it the story of a young girl who was a trailblazer at her congregation, Lincoln Square Synagogue in New York City.
This tale was recounted in The New York Jewish Week: “I remember she was very definite,” recalled Rabbi Shlomo Riskin, the congregation’s spiritual leader. “She came to me and very much wanted it; she was very strong about it. She wanted to recite a Haftorah like the boys, and she wanted her bat mitzvah on a Saturday morning.” Never having officiated at a bat mitzvah before, Rabbi Riskin said he had to “figure out what to do for a bat mitzvah. ... I was playing it by ear.” He said he “could not give her everything” she wanted. For instance, Rabbi Riskin said she could have her bat mitzvah on a Friday night, not a Saturday morning. And instead of reciting a Haftorah, she chanted, in Hebrew, selections from the Book of Ruth. “I was very proud of her,” he said. “She did very well. After that, we did bat mitzvahs all the time. ... She was part of my education. This was for us a watershed moment.”
Elena Kagan’s Bat Mitzvah experience reflects a modern interpretation on this week’s and last week’s Torah readings which would teach these principles:
1) There is an equality among all people that must be maintained (Leviticus 25 and following: a quick end to slavery; forgiving debts; noting that the earth belongs to God and we are caretakers, so that, in the Jubilee Year every 50 years, land could revert to previous owners, at least in theory.
2) Every person who positively takes his or her place in the community counts! (While it was only the men who were counted at the beginning of the book of Numbers, it is significant that Elena Kagan’s rabbi, Shlomo Riskin, was prepared to learn that SHE should be counted in the same way!).
In any congregation and community, every person has a role and the possibility of making a difference and a positive contribution. May we continue to find new ways to lead each other and to make every person – and every act – count!
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
The nomination of Elena Kagan to the Supreme Court brings with it the story of a young girl who was a trailblazer at her congregation, Lincoln Square Synagogue in New York City.
This tale was recounted in The New York Jewish Week: “I remember she was very definite,” recalled Rabbi Shlomo Riskin, the congregation’s spiritual leader. “She came to me and very much wanted it; she was very strong about it. She wanted to recite a Haftorah like the boys, and she wanted her bat mitzvah on a Saturday morning.” Never having officiated at a bat mitzvah before, Rabbi Riskin said he had to “figure out what to do for a bat mitzvah. ... I was playing it by ear.” He said he “could not give her everything” she wanted. For instance, Rabbi Riskin said she could have her bat mitzvah on a Friday night, not a Saturday morning. And instead of reciting a Haftorah, she chanted, in Hebrew, selections from the Book of Ruth. “I was very proud of her,” he said. “She did very well. After that, we did bat mitzvahs all the time. ... She was part of my education. This was for us a watershed moment.”
Elena Kagan’s Bat Mitzvah experience reflects a modern interpretation on this week’s and last week’s Torah readings which would teach these principles:
1) There is an equality among all people that must be maintained (Leviticus 25 and following: a quick end to slavery; forgiving debts; noting that the earth belongs to God and we are caretakers, so that, in the Jubilee Year every 50 years, land could revert to previous owners, at least in theory.
2) Every person who positively takes his or her place in the community counts! (While it was only the men who were counted at the beginning of the book of Numbers, it is significant that Elena Kagan’s rabbi, Shlomo Riskin, was prepared to learn that SHE should be counted in the same way!).
In any congregation and community, every person has a role and the possibility of making a difference and a positive contribution. May we continue to find new ways to lead each other and to make every person – and every act – count!
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Friday, April 23, 2010
Respecting the Earth and all who live here! April 23, 2010
Shabbat Shalom!
During the monthly meeting of the Strafford County Department of
Corrections Spiritual Advisory Committee this week, we took a few
moments to discuss religiosity, spirituality, and how we respond to the
wonders of nature (an appropriate discussion the day before Earth
Day!). Committee members spoke of the greatness of the divine, their
awe at creation (with a reference to the highest paved road in the
nation in Colorado atop Mt. Evans, which I visited with my family in
1962), and God’s love of creation and all living things. I quoted the
blessings for a rainbow (Blessed are You, Eternal our God, who
remembers the covenant, who is faithful to the covenant and who keeps
the divine word) and for the miracles around us (Blessed are You,
Eternal our God, who makes the work of creation). Our discussion
touched upon the possibility of universal spiritual responses,
including exclamations like “AWESOME” and “WOW!” Those could also be
termed, in some way, blessings at the amazing world around us. Such
appreciation for the earth is often what leads us to adopt sustainable
practices, even simple strategies like using compact fluorescent bulbs
and recycling regularly.
We also spoke about how our respect for our diversity of belief and
expression was a covenant in and of itself, as well as a recognition of
the special place in creation that we represent separately and
together. By the same token, concern for the environment and respect
for our fellow human beings go hand in hand. If we show concern for
nature, how much the more should we care about human beings and their
welfare. The Torah reading for this week, Kedoshim, says that we should
be holy as God is holy. And how is that holiness defined? “Don’t steal;
don’t lie; be honest in business; don’t place a stumbling block before
the blind (physically or metaphorically); judge your neighbor fairly
(without partiality due to one’s station in life); don’t spread rumors;
don’t seek revenge or bear a grudge; don’t hate someone in your heart,
and if you need to offer reproach, do so in a way that won’t bring
guilt upon you; love your neighbor and the stranger among you as
yourself; respect your elders; honor your parents.” This is a timeless
list of guidelines for bringing sanctity into our lives and our
community in which we can still find great wisdom and relevance.
So as we have marked Earth Day (and should throughout the year), let
us also continue to remember members of the human family, whether
across the earth or immediately among us, who need our care, kindness
and support.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
During the monthly meeting of the Strafford County Department of
Corrections Spiritual Advisory Committee this week, we took a few
moments to discuss religiosity, spirituality, and how we respond to the
wonders of nature (an appropriate discussion the day before Earth
Day!). Committee members spoke of the greatness of the divine, their
awe at creation (with a reference to the highest paved road in the
nation in Colorado atop Mt. Evans, which I visited with my family in
1962), and God’s love of creation and all living things. I quoted the
blessings for a rainbow (Blessed are You, Eternal our God, who
remembers the covenant, who is faithful to the covenant and who keeps
the divine word) and for the miracles around us (Blessed are You,
Eternal our God, who makes the work of creation). Our discussion
touched upon the possibility of universal spiritual responses,
including exclamations like “AWESOME” and “WOW!” Those could also be
termed, in some way, blessings at the amazing world around us. Such
appreciation for the earth is often what leads us to adopt sustainable
practices, even simple strategies like using compact fluorescent bulbs
and recycling regularly.
We also spoke about how our respect for our diversity of belief and
expression was a covenant in and of itself, as well as a recognition of
the special place in creation that we represent separately and
together. By the same token, concern for the environment and respect
for our fellow human beings go hand in hand. If we show concern for
nature, how much the more should we care about human beings and their
welfare. The Torah reading for this week, Kedoshim, says that we should
be holy as God is holy. And how is that holiness defined? “Don’t steal;
don’t lie; be honest in business; don’t place a stumbling block before
the blind (physically or metaphorically); judge your neighbor fairly
(without partiality due to one’s station in life); don’t spread rumors;
don’t seek revenge or bear a grudge; don’t hate someone in your heart,
and if you need to offer reproach, do so in a way that won’t bring
guilt upon you; love your neighbor and the stranger among you as
yourself; respect your elders; honor your parents.” This is a timeless
list of guidelines for bringing sanctity into our lives and our
community in which we can still find great wisdom and relevance.
So as we have marked Earth Day (and should throughout the year), let
us also continue to remember members of the human family, whether
across the earth or immediately among us, who need our care, kindness
and support.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
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