Shabbat Shalom!
“Would that all of God’s people were prophets,
That the Eternal would put the divine spirit upon them!”
So said Moses when his assistants, Eldad and Medad,
exhibited signs of being touched with God’s RUACH- SPIRIT
at the same time that the Israelite elders, the “official leaders,”
had received a touch of God’s spirit from Moses.
Joshua (Israelite leader-in-training) urged Moses to stop Eldad
and Medad, but it was his call of concern that elicited Moses’s declaration
that all people should be touched with the RUACH of God.
That RUACH – a special spirit that can inspire us,
to more deeply connect us with each other and with the world –
is always there for the taking.
Sometimes we may feel it is has disappeared, when it may be
that we simply need to open ourselves up to its enduring presence
and allow its entry into our souls.
A week ago, I was sitting at services and learning sessions
with many musical colleagues at the Hava Nashira songleaders’ workshop.
What I came to see in attending this program for the tenth time
is that each of us has a little bit of Eldad and Medad inside of us.
At Hava Nashira, that RUACH revealed itself in harmonies, in energy,
in friendship, in enthusiasm, in vocal prowess,
in talented play on an instrument
and in smiles that reflected the joy of musical moments shared.
In our community, that same RUACH may find its way into
our volunteer service to congregation or community,
sharing personal wisdom, giving tzedakah,
contributing a delicacy to an Oneg Shabbat,
offering support to a fellow congregant,
adding expertise to meet a communal challenge,
and giving a special touch to a program that can enable participants
to feel their ties to the Jewish community and the human family
more deeply than ever before.
Would that all of us would feel that RUACH upon us…and, if there are times when we fail to sense the touch of God’s spirit, would that we would know that it is still there, waiting….and ready…to take us to a holy place.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Friday, June 10, 2011
Temple Israel Dover Annual Meeting Message - on Bamidbar - May 22, 2011
Annual Meeting Message
May 22, 2011
“I will betroth you to Me forever; I will betroth you to Me in righteousness and justice, in steadfast love and compassion. I will betroth you to me in faithfulness and you shall know the Eternal.” -- (Hosea Chapter 2, Verses 21 and 22)
In this passage from the Haftarah for this coming Shabbat, the ancient prophet Hosea declared how his people could grow closer to God, godliness, and the best of their character. The values embodied in this formula, which has found its way into wedding ceremonies and the ritual of putting on t'fillin on one's hand, are integral to the creation of a positive community. Those values include TZEDEK – righteousness; MISHPAT – justice; CHESED - goodness, steadfast love, kindness; RACHAMIM - mercy, compassion; and EMUNAH – faithfulness.
These verses from Hosea, as a Haftarah reading, correspond to the Torah reading from the beginning section of the book of Numbers, in which the Israelites were commanded to take a census of their community. Counting the people is, on one level, a process of arriving at a “sum total” of membership and population. Hosea's words teach us that being part of a community is much more than being “counted” as a number. It means finding the right path, being fair and honest in our dealings with each other, showing kindness and concern, extending our hearts to others with compassion, and acting with consistency as much as possible. As members of a congregation, and the greater community of humanity, this is our goal and mission.
In the context of worship or a life cycle event like a wedding, to which the Hosea passage is connected, we have an opportunity to experience joy and connection on a meaningful and even deep and intense level. Prayer, all by itself, has the potential to connect us intimately with God and with the world around us. Life-cycle events, from birth ceremonies to bar/bat mitzvah celebrations, weddings to funerals, draw us closer together. At all of those gatherings, if we open our hearts to the moment, we may feel betrothed and bound to one another as a holy community, where the only capital that matters is spiritual capital and where conflict melts away and only our commonalities remain.
It was in that spirit of positive community that I recently asked congregants to share with me their thoughts about Temple Israel – offering a chance to say something good at a time that many might consider trying and difficult. Here are some of the sentiments voiced by Temple members: “More than a group tied to a building, we are a community.” “Temple Israel is an open and welcoming community.” “Temple Israel Dover is a haven…a refuge…a place where I can meet my friends….at least once a week I feel blessed, especially with the rabbi’s blessing and kind words.” One of our congregants said to me last week at the Nosharama of her 45 minute drive to get here, “It’s a schlep, but I come because I like being here.”
Being a community based on righteousness, justice, kindness, compassion and faithfulness means creating and sustaining a culture of honor, where we look at the glass as somewhat full rather than mostly empty, seeing the good that people do. Sustaining a culture of honor means making this MAKOM KADOSH, this holy space, a place of apology and forgiveness for words or actions that cause hurt, even if they were inadvertent. In that spirit, as I do every Yom Kippur, I now offer my apologies for words or actions that may have caused hurt or misunderstanding. Creating a culture of honor means that a spirit of righteousness and justice should pervade all that occurs here, where openness and respect are the hallmark of the relationships between all members of the congregation. This is a place where we should recognize and teach that the most important power that we have is not the power to control another person or a group, but the power that we can develop within ourselves to change the world for the better.
Throughout the last year, I have spoken and written almost weekly about community. One of the congregations at which I interviewed said that their goal was to create “sustainable sacred community,” which can be realized not only in the Temple building but anywhere members gather. Our “roving havdalah” services demonstrated how our community comes alive wherever we are, because Temple Israel Dover is, first and foremost, a Jewish community that, like many others, strive to be sustainable and sacred. The Hosea passage about “betrothal” is one of the best biblical statements about sacred partnership, which is what unites us in our efforts to sustain Jewish life and a Reform Jewish presence in the New Hampshire Seacoast.
“Reform Jewish presence” is an important phrase when mentioning Temple Israel, and not only because it is mentioned in the by-laws and noted on the plaque on the wall outside the office. It represents an approach to Judaism that makes Temple Israel Dover unique. I didn’t know how unique it was until I had to explain the difference between the Chabad Lubavitch approach to Judaism as compared to the principles of Reform Judaism in one of my interviews when a 6th grader asked why Chabad and Reform seem to be in conflict all the time. I told him that I don’t see them always at odds, but that they do have different missions: Chabad seeks to encourage all Jews to do mitzvos in the context of their understanding of Orthodox Judaism. Reform Judaism encourages its members to do mitzvot which they believe are meaningful, creating a personal spiritual path in the context of shared community.
I want you to know that Reform Judaism offers us connections to an even larger community of like-minded people who seek the type of Judaism that we seek and live here in New Hampshire. Over the last year, consultants from the Union for Reform Judaism have actively supported our congregation behind the scenes and in person. They care about Temple Israel Dover and its members and about the future path of this congregation. Financial Consultant David Katowitz, Rabbis Rex Perlmeter and Sue Levi Elwell, and congregational representative Ruth Goldberger have all been to our state - and David and Sue to our Temple – in the past 13 months. They have offered their best wisdom and counsel to provide a foundation for decision-making at Temple Israel Dover. Last June, the URJ East District executive board came to our congregation for Shabbat worship. They were very impressed at the spirit that we exude in prayer and conversation. In December, there will be a URJ biennial convention in the Washington, D.C. area – and someone from Temple Israel Dover should be there to demonstrate the special spirit that flows from this community.
Being a community based on righteousness, justice, kindness, compassion and faithfulness means looking at all the good we do with a feeling of joy and hope inside, and seeing the smiles in the photos of Temple life as representing a sense of community that is very real and that is worth preserving and continuing to nurture and grow. This is what I have tried to do every step of the way in my service with the Board, committees, the Religious School, in our worship, in study, and in the general community. I know that I couldn’t do these things without the support of important partners: committee chairs and members; our Temple president Carole Krassner, who will be among the Shem Tov/good name recipients at the Jewish Federation of New Hampshire annual meeting on June 12; other board members; the Religious School faculty and our students who represent our future; the Temple Israel Singers; and our dedicated Temple administrative assistant, Tammy Fascetta, whose presence in the office is invaluable for the knowledge, insight, perseverance and good humor that she brings to her position. You can and should continue to rely on Tammy in the weeks and months to come. As always, Rhonda is there with me at every step, helping me face every challenge, encouraging me to do what I always try to do – to make Judaism come alive in positive ways in Temple events and programs.
Being a community based on righteousness, justice, kindness, compassion and faithfulness is a goal that I now leave to you as I continue my transition to try to apply Hosea’s words to another congregation that is very far from here. It has been an honor to be with you for five years along a shared Jewish journey – and may you continue upon your path with a sense of mutual respect, honor and blessing. To that, I trust that we all will say…AMEN.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
May 22, 2011
“I will betroth you to Me forever; I will betroth you to Me in righteousness and justice, in steadfast love and compassion. I will betroth you to me in faithfulness and you shall know the Eternal.” -- (Hosea Chapter 2, Verses 21 and 22)
In this passage from the Haftarah for this coming Shabbat, the ancient prophet Hosea declared how his people could grow closer to God, godliness, and the best of their character. The values embodied in this formula, which has found its way into wedding ceremonies and the ritual of putting on t'fillin on one's hand, are integral to the creation of a positive community. Those values include TZEDEK – righteousness; MISHPAT – justice; CHESED - goodness, steadfast love, kindness; RACHAMIM - mercy, compassion; and EMUNAH – faithfulness.
These verses from Hosea, as a Haftarah reading, correspond to the Torah reading from the beginning section of the book of Numbers, in which the Israelites were commanded to take a census of their community. Counting the people is, on one level, a process of arriving at a “sum total” of membership and population. Hosea's words teach us that being part of a community is much more than being “counted” as a number. It means finding the right path, being fair and honest in our dealings with each other, showing kindness and concern, extending our hearts to others with compassion, and acting with consistency as much as possible. As members of a congregation, and the greater community of humanity, this is our goal and mission.
In the context of worship or a life cycle event like a wedding, to which the Hosea passage is connected, we have an opportunity to experience joy and connection on a meaningful and even deep and intense level. Prayer, all by itself, has the potential to connect us intimately with God and with the world around us. Life-cycle events, from birth ceremonies to bar/bat mitzvah celebrations, weddings to funerals, draw us closer together. At all of those gatherings, if we open our hearts to the moment, we may feel betrothed and bound to one another as a holy community, where the only capital that matters is spiritual capital and where conflict melts away and only our commonalities remain.
It was in that spirit of positive community that I recently asked congregants to share with me their thoughts about Temple Israel – offering a chance to say something good at a time that many might consider trying and difficult. Here are some of the sentiments voiced by Temple members: “More than a group tied to a building, we are a community.” “Temple Israel is an open and welcoming community.” “Temple Israel Dover is a haven…a refuge…a place where I can meet my friends….at least once a week I feel blessed, especially with the rabbi’s blessing and kind words.” One of our congregants said to me last week at the Nosharama of her 45 minute drive to get here, “It’s a schlep, but I come because I like being here.”
Being a community based on righteousness, justice, kindness, compassion and faithfulness means creating and sustaining a culture of honor, where we look at the glass as somewhat full rather than mostly empty, seeing the good that people do. Sustaining a culture of honor means making this MAKOM KADOSH, this holy space, a place of apology and forgiveness for words or actions that cause hurt, even if they were inadvertent. In that spirit, as I do every Yom Kippur, I now offer my apologies for words or actions that may have caused hurt or misunderstanding. Creating a culture of honor means that a spirit of righteousness and justice should pervade all that occurs here, where openness and respect are the hallmark of the relationships between all members of the congregation. This is a place where we should recognize and teach that the most important power that we have is not the power to control another person or a group, but the power that we can develop within ourselves to change the world for the better.
Throughout the last year, I have spoken and written almost weekly about community. One of the congregations at which I interviewed said that their goal was to create “sustainable sacred community,” which can be realized not only in the Temple building but anywhere members gather. Our “roving havdalah” services demonstrated how our community comes alive wherever we are, because Temple Israel Dover is, first and foremost, a Jewish community that, like many others, strive to be sustainable and sacred. The Hosea passage about “betrothal” is one of the best biblical statements about sacred partnership, which is what unites us in our efforts to sustain Jewish life and a Reform Jewish presence in the New Hampshire Seacoast.
“Reform Jewish presence” is an important phrase when mentioning Temple Israel, and not only because it is mentioned in the by-laws and noted on the plaque on the wall outside the office. It represents an approach to Judaism that makes Temple Israel Dover unique. I didn’t know how unique it was until I had to explain the difference between the Chabad Lubavitch approach to Judaism as compared to the principles of Reform Judaism in one of my interviews when a 6th grader asked why Chabad and Reform seem to be in conflict all the time. I told him that I don’t see them always at odds, but that they do have different missions: Chabad seeks to encourage all Jews to do mitzvos in the context of their understanding of Orthodox Judaism. Reform Judaism encourages its members to do mitzvot which they believe are meaningful, creating a personal spiritual path in the context of shared community.
I want you to know that Reform Judaism offers us connections to an even larger community of like-minded people who seek the type of Judaism that we seek and live here in New Hampshire. Over the last year, consultants from the Union for Reform Judaism have actively supported our congregation behind the scenes and in person. They care about Temple Israel Dover and its members and about the future path of this congregation. Financial Consultant David Katowitz, Rabbis Rex Perlmeter and Sue Levi Elwell, and congregational representative Ruth Goldberger have all been to our state - and David and Sue to our Temple – in the past 13 months. They have offered their best wisdom and counsel to provide a foundation for decision-making at Temple Israel Dover. Last June, the URJ East District executive board came to our congregation for Shabbat worship. They were very impressed at the spirit that we exude in prayer and conversation. In December, there will be a URJ biennial convention in the Washington, D.C. area – and someone from Temple Israel Dover should be there to demonstrate the special spirit that flows from this community.
Being a community based on righteousness, justice, kindness, compassion and faithfulness means looking at all the good we do with a feeling of joy and hope inside, and seeing the smiles in the photos of Temple life as representing a sense of community that is very real and that is worth preserving and continuing to nurture and grow. This is what I have tried to do every step of the way in my service with the Board, committees, the Religious School, in our worship, in study, and in the general community. I know that I couldn’t do these things without the support of important partners: committee chairs and members; our Temple president Carole Krassner, who will be among the Shem Tov/good name recipients at the Jewish Federation of New Hampshire annual meeting on June 12; other board members; the Religious School faculty and our students who represent our future; the Temple Israel Singers; and our dedicated Temple administrative assistant, Tammy Fascetta, whose presence in the office is invaluable for the knowledge, insight, perseverance and good humor that she brings to her position. You can and should continue to rely on Tammy in the weeks and months to come. As always, Rhonda is there with me at every step, helping me face every challenge, encouraging me to do what I always try to do – to make Judaism come alive in positive ways in Temple events and programs.
Being a community based on righteousness, justice, kindness, compassion and faithfulness is a goal that I now leave to you as I continue my transition to try to apply Hosea’s words to another congregation that is very far from here. It has been an honor to be with you for five years along a shared Jewish journey – and may you continue upon your path with a sense of mutual respect, honor and blessing. To that, I trust that we all will say…AMEN.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Untroubled and peaceful - May 20, 2011
Shabbat Shalom!
“I will grant you peace in the land, and you shall lie down untroubled by anyone.” This declaration from Leviticus Chapter 26 verse 6 offered the Israelites reassurance about their life in the land they were about to enter. They were told that they would know that peace if they kept the divine commandments and walked in godly paths.
Yesterday, President Barack Obama discussed an approach to peace in that same land, which focused on the pre-1967 borders between Israel and the neighboring countries, borders that were actually armistice lines from Israel’s War for Independence in 1949. As I understand it, the President suggested that those borders be used as a basis for arriving at a final peace agreement that would include the creation of a Palestinian state, with “land swaps” as a mechanism for creating flexibility and reassuring Israel and the Palestinians on rights and security. President Obama also commented, “For the Palestinians, efforts to delegitimize Israel will end in failure. Symbolic actions to isolate Israel at the United Nations in September won't create an independent state. Palestinian leaders will not achieve peace or prosperity if Hamas insists on a path of terror and rejection. And Palestinians will never realize their independence by denying the right of Israel to exist…. As for security, every state has the right to self-defense, and Israel must be able to defend itself -- by itself -- against any threat. Provisions must also be robust enough to prevent a resurgence of terrorism, to stop the infiltration of weapons, and to provide effective border security. The full and phased withdrawal of Israeli military forces should be coordinated with the assumption of Palestinian security responsibility in a sovereign, non-militarized state. And the duration of this transition period must be agreed, and the effectiveness of security arrangements must be demonstrated.”
There is a great deal of ink in the printed media and space on websites that will be devoted to reactions to the President’s speech. Specificity on the exact borders to be established will continue to be a “hot-button” issue. The central question is this: Are enough people on each side ready to accept the other and their state as legitimate and deserving of a right to exist and thrive?
Time will tell if this new attempt to inch closer to an Israeli-Palestinian accord will bear fruit. Our hope for those on both sides of the conflict is that they will know true peace in the land and that they will lie down untroubled by anyone – not because of one side defeating the other in a war employing rhetoric or violence, but because they will come to see their common interests in a shared future. Perhaps, one day, this dream will become a reality.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
“I will grant you peace in the land, and you shall lie down untroubled by anyone.” This declaration from Leviticus Chapter 26 verse 6 offered the Israelites reassurance about their life in the land they were about to enter. They were told that they would know that peace if they kept the divine commandments and walked in godly paths.
Yesterday, President Barack Obama discussed an approach to peace in that same land, which focused on the pre-1967 borders between Israel and the neighboring countries, borders that were actually armistice lines from Israel’s War for Independence in 1949. As I understand it, the President suggested that those borders be used as a basis for arriving at a final peace agreement that would include the creation of a Palestinian state, with “land swaps” as a mechanism for creating flexibility and reassuring Israel and the Palestinians on rights and security. President Obama also commented, “For the Palestinians, efforts to delegitimize Israel will end in failure. Symbolic actions to isolate Israel at the United Nations in September won't create an independent state. Palestinian leaders will not achieve peace or prosperity if Hamas insists on a path of terror and rejection. And Palestinians will never realize their independence by denying the right of Israel to exist…. As for security, every state has the right to self-defense, and Israel must be able to defend itself -- by itself -- against any threat. Provisions must also be robust enough to prevent a resurgence of terrorism, to stop the infiltration of weapons, and to provide effective border security. The full and phased withdrawal of Israeli military forces should be coordinated with the assumption of Palestinian security responsibility in a sovereign, non-militarized state. And the duration of this transition period must be agreed, and the effectiveness of security arrangements must be demonstrated.”
There is a great deal of ink in the printed media and space on websites that will be devoted to reactions to the President’s speech. Specificity on the exact borders to be established will continue to be a “hot-button” issue. The central question is this: Are enough people on each side ready to accept the other and their state as legitimate and deserving of a right to exist and thrive?
Time will tell if this new attempt to inch closer to an Israeli-Palestinian accord will bear fruit. Our hope for those on both sides of the conflict is that they will know true peace in the land and that they will lie down untroubled by anyone – not because of one side defeating the other in a war employing rhetoric or violence, but because they will come to see their common interests in a shared future. Perhaps, one day, this dream will become a reality.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Count Us Up and In - May 13, 2011
Shabbat Shalom!
The Jewish tradition of “counting up,” as demonstrated with the celebration of each year added to the history of Israel as a state, as well as through our observance of enumerating the days of the Omer between Passover and Shavuot, offer us a chance to be positive and optimistic. We can always find ways of seeing the glass half-full rather than half-empty, and of taking difficult situations and finding light even in the middle of supposed darkness.
The Torah reading for this week speaks of counting not only days, but years, first in sets of seven (for a “sabbatical year” for the land), and, cumulatively, in a set of seven-times-seven, where the 50th year is called a YOVEIL, usually translated as “jubilee.” In that year, at least in theory, land would return to previous owners, debts would be forgiven, slaves would go free. The sounding of the shofar would proclaim a DROR (a release, but often translated as “liberty”) that would commemorate this “grand equalization.” The jubilee was an admission and affirmation of our stewardship of the earth rather than ownership, where we are God’s representatives on earth, bound to treat the land – and other people – with care.
The jubilee experience must have been humbling, but it also has great meaning. Its message of equality at the end of a series of years of “counting up” could be a source of positive thinking about how we can affect the world. Thinking positive about the world and community is not always easy, but it is possible. One classroom exercise meant to teach that approach has the teacher create a sheet of paper for each student with his or her name on top. The papers are passed around the classroom with the instruction the students write on the paper a positive comment about that classmate. When asked to do so, we are able to “count up” and find the good in each other.
In that spirit, I would like to ask you to imagine that you have been given piece of paper that says “Temple Israel Dover” on top. I would like to ask you to write one positive comment about Temple Israel Dover in an email and send it to me. I will include your comments in my message at the annual meeting on May 22.
As we continue through the counting of the Omer, and moving to the future in general, may the increasing sunshine around us offer us a sense of optimism for the days to come.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
The Jewish tradition of “counting up,” as demonstrated with the celebration of each year added to the history of Israel as a state, as well as through our observance of enumerating the days of the Omer between Passover and Shavuot, offer us a chance to be positive and optimistic. We can always find ways of seeing the glass half-full rather than half-empty, and of taking difficult situations and finding light even in the middle of supposed darkness.
The Torah reading for this week speaks of counting not only days, but years, first in sets of seven (for a “sabbatical year” for the land), and, cumulatively, in a set of seven-times-seven, where the 50th year is called a YOVEIL, usually translated as “jubilee.” In that year, at least in theory, land would return to previous owners, debts would be forgiven, slaves would go free. The sounding of the shofar would proclaim a DROR (a release, but often translated as “liberty”) that would commemorate this “grand equalization.” The jubilee was an admission and affirmation of our stewardship of the earth rather than ownership, where we are God’s representatives on earth, bound to treat the land – and other people – with care.
The jubilee experience must have been humbling, but it also has great meaning. Its message of equality at the end of a series of years of “counting up” could be a source of positive thinking about how we can affect the world. Thinking positive about the world and community is not always easy, but it is possible. One classroom exercise meant to teach that approach has the teacher create a sheet of paper for each student with his or her name on top. The papers are passed around the classroom with the instruction the students write on the paper a positive comment about that classmate. When asked to do so, we are able to “count up” and find the good in each other.
In that spirit, I would like to ask you to imagine that you have been given piece of paper that says “Temple Israel Dover” on top. I would like to ask you to write one positive comment about Temple Israel Dover in an email and send it to me. I will include your comments in my message at the annual meeting on May 22.
As we continue through the counting of the Omer, and moving to the future in general, may the increasing sunshine around us offer us a sense of optimism for the days to come.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Friday, May 6, 2011
Marking and Making Time - May 6, 2011
Shabbat Shalom!
EMOR, the Torah reading for this week, includes a complete list of the Israelite holiday calendar, including Shabbat, the counting of the Omer, Shavuot/the Feast of Weeks, the Day of Shofar Sounding (Rosh Hashanah), Yom Kippur, Sukkot, Sh’mini Atzeret (the conclusion of the fall holidays combined in many Reform congregations with Simchat Torah), and the New Moon. Judaism still offers us rituals and customs that enable us to engage in regularly making moments holy and special. Most of the above observances are about beginnings, in one way or another, or about “taking time out of life” to refresh and renew ourselves. Most of those celebrations brought the community together (a “holy convocation” means “being called together for a sacred purpose”). Hopefully, we still can hear that call to come together, not only in our many pursuits related to our ongoing activities, but also as members of a Jewish congregation.
The coming weeks present us with a variety of opportunities to congregate, as does every season of the year. A new month began this week; we will continue to “count up” as we enumerate the increasing days of the Omer; we will mark Israel’s 63 years; we will study, share our culture and customs with the greater community (at the Nosharama), join to make decisions for the future (at the Annual Meeting), and celebrate the last major festival of every Jewish year (Shavuot). This is how we, through the Jewish heritage and tradition, mark time. Please join us as we gather to continue to do what our ancestor did so long ago: to make moments special and sacred.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
EMOR, the Torah reading for this week, includes a complete list of the Israelite holiday calendar, including Shabbat, the counting of the Omer, Shavuot/the Feast of Weeks, the Day of Shofar Sounding (Rosh Hashanah), Yom Kippur, Sukkot, Sh’mini Atzeret (the conclusion of the fall holidays combined in many Reform congregations with Simchat Torah), and the New Moon. Judaism still offers us rituals and customs that enable us to engage in regularly making moments holy and special. Most of the above observances are about beginnings, in one way or another, or about “taking time out of life” to refresh and renew ourselves. Most of those celebrations brought the community together (a “holy convocation” means “being called together for a sacred purpose”). Hopefully, we still can hear that call to come together, not only in our many pursuits related to our ongoing activities, but also as members of a Jewish congregation.
The coming weeks present us with a variety of opportunities to congregate, as does every season of the year. A new month began this week; we will continue to “count up” as we enumerate the increasing days of the Omer; we will mark Israel’s 63 years; we will study, share our culture and customs with the greater community (at the Nosharama), join to make decisions for the future (at the Annual Meeting), and celebrate the last major festival of every Jewish year (Shavuot). This is how we, through the Jewish heritage and tradition, mark time. Please join us as we gather to continue to do what our ancestor did so long ago: to make moments special and sacred.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Holiness in our hands and hearts - April 29, 2011
Shabbat Shalom!
During his presentation last night, Rabbi Bill Leffler presented ideas from his book,
The Structure of Religion. Among the aspects of Jewish life that he emphasized was the centrality of making moments and life holy through our behavior. The Torah portion for this week, KEDOSHIM, begins with the declaration: “You shall be holy, for I , your Eternal God, am holy.” Leviticus Chapter 19 continues with a list of ways/behaviors which can lead us to holiness. We read this portion from the Torah on Yom Kippur afternoon to remind us how we can infuse the coming year with the sanctity we sense on the High Holy Days.
I once asked Temple leaders to put some of the verses of Leviticus Chapter 19 into modern terms, with suggestions for actions (doing mitzvot) that we are attainable and relevant today. Here is their list, and you can arrive at your own interpretations as well (feel free to email me with your ideas!).
Revere your mother and father: Be patient....be respectful of seasoned leadership.
Keep my Sabbaths: attend services....rest and study at home or anywhere.
Leave the corners of your fields for the poor and the stranger: Give tzedakah, give donations to local food pantries, support agencies that provide shelter, assistance and hot meals for people in need.
You must not steal: don't take credit for someone else's ideas.
You must not act deceitfully nor lie to one another: Don't go back on your word....Be honest.
Do not oppress your neighbor: Respect differences between people.
The wages of a laborer should not remain with you overnight until morning: Pay bills and employees on time.
Do not curse the deaf, or place a stumbling block before the blind: make all programs and homes/buildings accessible as much as possible.
Judge your neighbor justly: make fair decisions.
Do not slander others: Don't gossip.
Do not seek vengeance: Don't try to get even with anyone.
Do not bear a grudge: Forgive (but not necessarily forget).
Love your neighbor as yourself: Be considerate....don't do to someone else what is hateful to you.
Treat strangers like citizens: Welcome newcomers to your community.
This “holiness code” is still very much a part of who we are as individuals and as a people/community. Let us continue to strive to make our lives and our actions sacred in the days to come.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry K.
During his presentation last night, Rabbi Bill Leffler presented ideas from his book,
The Structure of Religion. Among the aspects of Jewish life that he emphasized was the centrality of making moments and life holy through our behavior. The Torah portion for this week, KEDOSHIM, begins with the declaration: “You shall be holy, for I , your Eternal God, am holy.” Leviticus Chapter 19 continues with a list of ways/behaviors which can lead us to holiness. We read this portion from the Torah on Yom Kippur afternoon to remind us how we can infuse the coming year with the sanctity we sense on the High Holy Days.
I once asked Temple leaders to put some of the verses of Leviticus Chapter 19 into modern terms, with suggestions for actions (doing mitzvot) that we are attainable and relevant today. Here is their list, and you can arrive at your own interpretations as well (feel free to email me with your ideas!).
Revere your mother and father: Be patient....be respectful of seasoned leadership.
Keep my Sabbaths: attend services....rest and study at home or anywhere.
Leave the corners of your fields for the poor and the stranger: Give tzedakah, give donations to local food pantries, support agencies that provide shelter, assistance and hot meals for people in need.
You must not steal: don't take credit for someone else's ideas.
You must not act deceitfully nor lie to one another: Don't go back on your word....Be honest.
Do not oppress your neighbor: Respect differences between people.
The wages of a laborer should not remain with you overnight until morning: Pay bills and employees on time.
Do not curse the deaf, or place a stumbling block before the blind: make all programs and homes/buildings accessible as much as possible.
Judge your neighbor justly: make fair decisions.
Do not slander others: Don't gossip.
Do not seek vengeance: Don't try to get even with anyone.
Do not bear a grudge: Forgive (but not necessarily forget).
Love your neighbor as yourself: Be considerate....don't do to someone else what is hateful to you.
Treat strangers like citizens: Welcome newcomers to your community.
This “holiness code” is still very much a part of who we are as individuals and as a people/community. Let us continue to strive to make our lives and our actions sacred in the days to come.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry K.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
A cure to isolation - April 8, 2011
Shabbat Shalom!
Over the years, I have heard many approaches to this week’s Torah portion, Metzora, which focuses on how to deal with “skin affections,” usually identified as leprosy (Hansen’s disease) on people. There is a section that deals with “growths” that appear in homes as well. The goal of this section was not to promote health as much as it was to ensure ritual and spiritual purity. The Torah specifies how someone who had a particular disease was to be quarantined and how that person could again become part of the community as they became whole again.
All of us may have had experiences, not necessarily illnesses, that have made us feel isolated from a community. There are always paths of healing and return available to us. Sometimes we need time to think about our place in the web of relationships in our lives, and what may be required to return to communal life may be a change in attitude, on our part or someone else’s. Rabbinic commentaries chose to discuss this section of the Torah by “playing” with the word for leprosy, metzora, and turning it into “Motzi sheim ra,” meaning someone who spreads “evil talk” or speaks evil about someone, thus defaming their “sheim,” name. They believed that pure, positive and truthful speech was essential to sustaining a productive and sacred community. They cautioned that only listening to gossip or slander, even without repeating it, could compromise the integrity of a community.
We live in a world where words can spread at the click of a button to thousands of people. May we always strive to seek purity inside ourselves and in the words the emerge from our lips.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Over the years, I have heard many approaches to this week’s Torah portion, Metzora, which focuses on how to deal with “skin affections,” usually identified as leprosy (Hansen’s disease) on people. There is a section that deals with “growths” that appear in homes as well. The goal of this section was not to promote health as much as it was to ensure ritual and spiritual purity. The Torah specifies how someone who had a particular disease was to be quarantined and how that person could again become part of the community as they became whole again.
All of us may have had experiences, not necessarily illnesses, that have made us feel isolated from a community. There are always paths of healing and return available to us. Sometimes we need time to think about our place in the web of relationships in our lives, and what may be required to return to communal life may be a change in attitude, on our part or someone else’s. Rabbinic commentaries chose to discuss this section of the Torah by “playing” with the word for leprosy, metzora, and turning it into “Motzi sheim ra,” meaning someone who spreads “evil talk” or speaks evil about someone, thus defaming their “sheim,” name. They believed that pure, positive and truthful speech was essential to sustaining a productive and sacred community. They cautioned that only listening to gossip or slander, even without repeating it, could compromise the integrity of a community.
We live in a world where words can spread at the click of a button to thousands of people. May we always strive to seek purity inside ourselves and in the words the emerge from our lips.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
A Journey to Integrity - April 15, 2011
Shabbat Shalom!
The Seder ritual awaits us. Many of us will gather around a Seder table in our own home, in someone else's home, at a congregation, or perhaps, even, at Temple Israel Dover! We always seem to find meaning in the practices that have become part of the Seder, perhaps because the theme of moving from slavery to freedom resonates with every generation of humanity. The Torah reading for this week begins with a description of the ancient observance of Yom Kippur, the solemn day that offers us a chance to free ourselves from our past mistakes and move forward with a strong resolve to seek a path of integrity. That quest for integrity is also a theme of Passover. The examples of cruelty contained in the tale demonstrate to us that being human means opening our hearts to the cries and needs of others as much as we are able. On this coming Pesach, may we be responsive to global calls for freedom and may we extend our hands to those in need through our own efforts and through the combined generosity of neighborhoods, organizations, states and nations.
Best wishes for a Chag Samayach - a happy Pesach!
L'shalom,
Rabbi Larry
The Seder ritual awaits us. Many of us will gather around a Seder table in our own home, in someone else's home, at a congregation, or perhaps, even, at Temple Israel Dover! We always seem to find meaning in the practices that have become part of the Seder, perhaps because the theme of moving from slavery to freedom resonates with every generation of humanity. The Torah reading for this week begins with a description of the ancient observance of Yom Kippur, the solemn day that offers us a chance to free ourselves from our past mistakes and move forward with a strong resolve to seek a path of integrity. That quest for integrity is also a theme of Passover. The examples of cruelty contained in the tale demonstrate to us that being human means opening our hearts to the cries and needs of others as much as we are able. On this coming Pesach, may we be responsive to global calls for freedom and may we extend our hands to those in need through our own efforts and through the combined generosity of neighborhoods, organizations, states and nations.
Best wishes for a Chag Samayach - a happy Pesach!
L'shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Assuring Freedom - April 22, 2011
As we watch the changes happening before our eyes in the Middle East,
we witness cries for freedom
from people who have not truly known liberty of their own choosing
or of their own creation.
The objective of working for freedom by trying, first, to end tyranny,
is to prevent the possibility of the formation of another regime
that would use tactics that could be characterized as dictatorial or tyrannical
but would never admit that it was doing so.
Escaping Pharaoh meant leaving his form of leadership behind
and NOT paving the way for the ascension of yet another Pharaoh.
Achieving freedom carries with it the responsibility to preserve liberty
through an attempt to make everyone feel that they are part of the consensus.
At a Pesach seder, everyone should have a place at the table. It should be the same for citizens of a nation – everyone should feel as if he or she has a place at the table, with values of respect, compromise and partnership serving as the foundation of communal life.
Let us pray that more people will live in nations based on such values
in the days and years to come.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
we witness cries for freedom
from people who have not truly known liberty of their own choosing
or of their own creation.
The objective of working for freedom by trying, first, to end tyranny,
is to prevent the possibility of the formation of another regime
that would use tactics that could be characterized as dictatorial or tyrannical
but would never admit that it was doing so.
Escaping Pharaoh meant leaving his form of leadership behind
and NOT paving the way for the ascension of yet another Pharaoh.
Achieving freedom carries with it the responsibility to preserve liberty
through an attempt to make everyone feel that they are part of the consensus.
At a Pesach seder, everyone should have a place at the table. It should be the same for citizens of a nation – everyone should feel as if he or she has a place at the table, with values of respect, compromise and partnership serving as the foundation of communal life.
Let us pray that more people will live in nations based on such values
in the days and years to come.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Sunday, March 27, 2011
All of My Goodness - March 1, 2011
D’var Torah - Neighbor Night - February 18, 2011
Over the last three years, I have chosen a word from the weekly Torah reading on which to focus for a congregational discussion of its meaning. The word that I chose this week, KAVOD, is not in the sec- tion from which I will be reading tonight from the Torah, but in the verses just preceding it. KAVOD is a word that is usually translated as glory or honor. In the most modern translation, “glory” becomes presence. Here is the section from the end of Exodus Chapter 33: “Moses said to the Eternal, ‘O let me behold K’VODECHA – Your presence!” And God answered, “I will make all My goodness pass before you, and I will proclaim the name Eternal (God’s 4 letter name YUD HAY VAV HAY) and the grace that I grant and the compassion that I show...but you cannot see my face, for a human being may not see me and live.” God then explained to Moses that he would be put in the cleft of a rock as the divine presence passed by, so that Moses would see only God’s back.
In the various Torah commentaries which I consult on the possible meanings of words and phrases, the best explanation I found for the use of KAVOD in this verse came from Robert Alter’s translation of the Torah. Alter explained: “We are not likely to recover precisely what the key term KAVOD – glory, honor, divine presence, and, very literally, ‘weightiness’ – conveyed to the ancient Hebrew imagination. In any case, Moses, who first fearfully encountered God in the fire in the bush, is now ready and eager to be granted a full-scale epiphany, a frontal revelation of the look and character of this divinity that has been speaking to him from within a pillar of the cloud.”
Of course, God didn’t offer to show Moses the divine face or the divine glory. Instead, God told Moses that he would be allowed to see and sense all of God’s goodness – KOL TUVI – defined by the grace and compassion that God would show to Moses and, in turn, to all of humanity. The rest of the definition of divine goodness – and even God’s KAVOD – glory and presence – appeared in God’s declaration to Moses in the verses I am about to chant from the Torah. Specifically, God’s glory and goodness were characterized by mercy, compassion, grace – where grace means a measure of unconditional love and loyalty – patience in the face of possible anger, overflowing kindness, faithfulness, and forgiveness. This was what was revealed to Moses, and, in turn, to the Israelite people after they had forced Aaron the priest, Moses’ brother, to fashion a golden calf for them to wor- ship as if it were God. Moses’ “absence” while he was atop Mount Sinai, like a parent leaving an adolescent child at home alone, had caused the people to lose faith and hope. The revelation to Moses of divine goodness – KOL TUVI-was meant as a reassurance to the people that God, who cannot be seen in a physical way, is still always present.
For our lives, the an important lesson that we can learn from this passage is that we can find footprints or traces of God when we and the people around us put into practice the essence of God’s glory and goodness: mercy, compassion, grace, kindness, patience, loyalty and forgiveness. I am sure that we would all admit that it is next to impossible to exhibit all of those qualities at once, because, of course, we are only human. Yet, the more of those qualities we do practice at once, the better we become as individuals and as a human family. Striving to emulate those divine attributes enables us to create a culture and community of KAVOD, where we truly honor each other by our presence and by giving the best of ourselves. So may we do each day of our lives.
Over the last three years, I have chosen a word from the weekly Torah reading on which to focus for a congregational discussion of its meaning. The word that I chose this week, KAVOD, is not in the sec- tion from which I will be reading tonight from the Torah, but in the verses just preceding it. KAVOD is a word that is usually translated as glory or honor. In the most modern translation, “glory” becomes presence. Here is the section from the end of Exodus Chapter 33: “Moses said to the Eternal, ‘O let me behold K’VODECHA – Your presence!” And God answered, “I will make all My goodness pass before you, and I will proclaim the name Eternal (God’s 4 letter name YUD HAY VAV HAY) and the grace that I grant and the compassion that I show...but you cannot see my face, for a human being may not see me and live.” God then explained to Moses that he would be put in the cleft of a rock as the divine presence passed by, so that Moses would see only God’s back.
In the various Torah commentaries which I consult on the possible meanings of words and phrases, the best explanation I found for the use of KAVOD in this verse came from Robert Alter’s translation of the Torah. Alter explained: “We are not likely to recover precisely what the key term KAVOD – glory, honor, divine presence, and, very literally, ‘weightiness’ – conveyed to the ancient Hebrew imagination. In any case, Moses, who first fearfully encountered God in the fire in the bush, is now ready and eager to be granted a full-scale epiphany, a frontal revelation of the look and character of this divinity that has been speaking to him from within a pillar of the cloud.”
Of course, God didn’t offer to show Moses the divine face or the divine glory. Instead, God told Moses that he would be allowed to see and sense all of God’s goodness – KOL TUVI – defined by the grace and compassion that God would show to Moses and, in turn, to all of humanity. The rest of the definition of divine goodness – and even God’s KAVOD – glory and presence – appeared in God’s declaration to Moses in the verses I am about to chant from the Torah. Specifically, God’s glory and goodness were characterized by mercy, compassion, grace – where grace means a measure of unconditional love and loyalty – patience in the face of possible anger, overflowing kindness, faithfulness, and forgiveness. This was what was revealed to Moses, and, in turn, to the Israelite people after they had forced Aaron the priest, Moses’ brother, to fashion a golden calf for them to wor- ship as if it were God. Moses’ “absence” while he was atop Mount Sinai, like a parent leaving an adolescent child at home alone, had caused the people to lose faith and hope. The revelation to Moses of divine goodness – KOL TUVI-was meant as a reassurance to the people that God, who cannot be seen in a physical way, is still always present.
For our lives, the an important lesson that we can learn from this passage is that we can find footprints or traces of God when we and the people around us put into practice the essence of God’s glory and goodness: mercy, compassion, grace, kindness, patience, loyalty and forgiveness. I am sure that we would all admit that it is next to impossible to exhibit all of those qualities at once, because, of course, we are only human. Yet, the more of those qualities we do practice at once, the better we become as individuals and as a human family. Striving to emulate those divine attributes enables us to create a culture and community of KAVOD, where we truly honor each other by our presence and by giving the best of ourselves. So may we do each day of our lives.
Pure, Proper and Right Giving - March 27, 2011
In the Torah readings over these past few and coming weeks, great care is taken to identify what is pure or impure, what is proper (kosher) or not, and, by extension, what is right or wrong. This theme runs throughout many streams of Jewish tradition, even today.
One of the ways in which we can do what is pure, proper and right is to reach out to people in need. Throughout the year, members of the Temple community serve meals once a month at the Dover Friendly Kitchen. We collect food to be donated to the Dover Food Pantry. We ask for donations for Dover Share. It is likely that all of us have organizations which we support. Our donations of time and energy to those causes make us feel that we have raised ourselves to a higher level, presenting someone a lifeline they may not have had otherwise.
Attached to this email is a letter from the Greater Seacoast United Jewish Appeal which includes information about donating to relief for the victims of the earthquake/tsunami in Japan. I added a link to the Union for Reform Judaism web page on relief. One of the most important aspects of our heritage is that such tzedakah knows no limits, as it offers us a way to reach out to our fellow human beings. I am sure many of you have seen videos of the earthquake and tsunami when they hit Japan. Our hearts go out to that nation, and let us all share what we can to help the victims rebuild their lives.
One of the ways in which we can do what is pure, proper and right is to reach out to people in need. Throughout the year, members of the Temple community serve meals once a month at the Dover Friendly Kitchen. We collect food to be donated to the Dover Food Pantry. We ask for donations for Dover Share. It is likely that all of us have organizations which we support. Our donations of time and energy to those causes make us feel that we have raised ourselves to a higher level, presenting someone a lifeline they may not have had otherwise.
Attached to this email is a letter from the Greater Seacoast United Jewish Appeal which includes information about donating to relief for the victims of the earthquake/tsunami in Japan. I added a link to the Union for Reform Judaism web page on relief. One of the most important aspects of our heritage is that such tzedakah knows no limits, as it offers us a way to reach out to our fellow human beings. I am sure many of you have seen videos of the earthquake and tsunami when they hit Japan. Our hearts go out to that nation, and let us all share what we can to help the victims rebuild their lives.
A Flame to be shared - March 18, 2011
Shabbat Shalom!
“A perpetual fire shall be kept burning on the altar. It shall not go out.”
(Leviticus 6:6)
The Israelite priests
had an almost divine responsibility
in keeping a fire burning on the altar.
God’s first creation was light.
Moses first saw God in a bush that appeared to be burning
but was not consumed.
While ancient offerings on the altar “went up in smoke,”
the priests kept the fire burning.
We have no such offerings today of sacrifices, as did our ancestors.
What we can offer is the flame in our hearts
that can represent the spark of God in each of us
or the fire in our souls when we experience moments
when our personal connection to all of creation comes clear to us,
even if only for a brief moment.
The fire is not ours to keep to ourselves,
but one that we should share with our community,
so that we can say to our children and grandchildren
that we did our part to keep a perpetual and communal flame burning
so that it would not go out.
May that flame provide warmth, comfort and hope within our hearts.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
“A perpetual fire shall be kept burning on the altar. It shall not go out.”
(Leviticus 6:6)
The Israelite priests
had an almost divine responsibility
in keeping a fire burning on the altar.
God’s first creation was light.
Moses first saw God in a bush that appeared to be burning
but was not consumed.
While ancient offerings on the altar “went up in smoke,”
the priests kept the fire burning.
We have no such offerings today of sacrifices, as did our ancestors.
What we can offer is the flame in our hearts
that can represent the spark of God in each of us
or the fire in our souls when we experience moments
when our personal connection to all of creation comes clear to us,
even if only for a brief moment.
The fire is not ours to keep to ourselves,
but one that we should share with our community,
so that we can say to our children and grandchildren
that we did our part to keep a perpetual and communal flame burning
so that it would not go out.
May that flame provide warmth, comfort and hope within our hearts.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
What can be in a name - March 11, 2011
Shabbat Shalom!
D’VAR TORAH ON MARCH 4, 2011 FOR SHABBAT ACROSS AMERICA
The Torah reading for this Shabbat, Pekuday, is one that is very special to our family. When our son, Adam, was Bar Mitzvah in Topeka, in 1999, he read from this week’s Torah portion (which is usually combined with last week’s portion, Vayakheil). When I gave my obligatory senior sermon as a rabbinic student on March 7, 1981, 30 years ago this weekend, the Torah reading was P’kuday, So, I have had many years to think about the meaning of this section of the Torah. Something struck me in a different way this year about certain words used in this reading,
The words which caught my eye this year aren’t just words: they are names. And they aren’t just any names – they are the names of the two artisans who were put in charge of designing and building the tabernacle, the house of worship for the Israelites in the wilderness. We probably don’t often think about what our names mean, whether in English, Hebrew, Yiddish or whatever their origin might be. For me, my first name in Hebrew – PERETZ – is one of Jacob’s grandsons in the Bible, but it means to “burst forth.” My middle Hebrew name, LAYB, is actually Yiddish for “lion.” Hopefully, those names combine to keep me focused, firm, creative, enthusiastic and energetic, but NOT ferocious!!!
The names of the two chief architects of the Tabernacle offer us a hint at what it takes to build a sacred community – and, perhaps, any type of community. The first of these two specially-skilled Israelites was named BEZALEL ben (son of) URI ben CHUR. You movie buffs out there may have already caught the source in this passage for title of the epic tale Ben Hur. My Dad always told me that the name HUR (CHUR in Hebrew) came right from this passage in the book of Exodus. Chur means child in most ancient Near Eastern Languages. So the grandfather of the chief artisan is a CHILD, perhaps signifying that all human beings are children of the divine. The father’s name is URI – if you know the word OR, which means light, you could guess that URI means MY LIGHT. So the CHILD of the divine, the grandfather, through his son URI, offers LIGHT to the grandson, B’TZAL-EL, which means “in the shadow of God.” Bezalel’s entire name converges into a humble realization of being connected to all members of the human family, who, when they open their eyes, can see a light of wisdom and insight that enables them to realize that they live in the shadow of God. As we look around this sanctuary, we see light, the NEIR TAMID, the Eternal Light, the Menorot, – visual signs of enduring faith and our opportunity to gain light – inspiration, vision and learning. And how do we benefit from the light and from living in the shadow of God? We find an answer in the name of the other artisan, OHOLIAV ben ACHISAMACH. In this case, the father’s name literally translates as “my brother is a support,” reminding us that supporting one another is essential if a community is going to stand and sustain itself.. And the son’s name, OHOLIAV, means something like “The Father/Parent is my tent,” or it could even mean that “The Father/Parent is my guiding light.” One explanation of this name noted that the fires in the tents of people who dwelled in a desert served like a beacon – an early version of a GPS. When we consider the names of both of the artisans, Bezalel, “in the shadow of God,” and Oholiav, “father/parent is my tent or my guiding beacon,” we have a perfect metaphor of what a sacred community can bring to us: a sense of always being in God’s presence, under God’s protection as we move along a path that enables us to see the spark of the divine in each other’s eyes and in every person. It is that realization, in our tradition, that can lead us to support each other by sharing our wisdom, skills, energy and optimism.
There is one more word to add to this list. The name of our congregation – Yisrael – Israel. Some commentators explained that Yisrael means “to struggle with God,” as explained in the section where Jacob wrestled with a divine being and was given his new name. Others have said it could be taken from the words YASHAR EL, where EL means God and YASHAR comes from the root words which translates as upright, straight, and just. YASHAR is the root for the Hebrew word Y’sharim, which means just and righteous people who follow a path of integrity. Psalm 112 verse 7 declares: ZARACH BACHOSHECH OR LA’YSHARIM CHANUN V’RACHUM V’TZADIK – For the Y’SHARIM, the goodhearted, a light of grace, mercy and justice shines in the darkness.
We have heard many cries resounding all over the world in recent weeks calling upon governmental leaders to show greater respect and justice towards people at all levels of society. The best response to those cries is the one that comes from a higher place. We know how much any community enlivens and enriches itself when it sees itself as living in the shadow of God. For any Jewish community, the moral insights and wisdom from our tradition have the potential to take us to that higher place, where we can gain a deeper understanding about the meaning of justice, equity and freedom in today’s world. May we continue to see the light of Torah as it illumines our path, leading us to take refuge under the shadow and protection of the Oneness inside of us and all around us that permeates all creation and leads us to say with sincerity and hope – HINEI MAH TOV U-MAH NA-EEM, SHEVET ACHIM GAM YACHAD – how good and how pleasant it is when people – all people - dwell together in unity.
May this light continue to be our guide – and let us say amen.
D’VAR TORAH ON MARCH 4, 2011 FOR SHABBAT ACROSS AMERICA
The Torah reading for this Shabbat, Pekuday, is one that is very special to our family. When our son, Adam, was Bar Mitzvah in Topeka, in 1999, he read from this week’s Torah portion (which is usually combined with last week’s portion, Vayakheil). When I gave my obligatory senior sermon as a rabbinic student on March 7, 1981, 30 years ago this weekend, the Torah reading was P’kuday, So, I have had many years to think about the meaning of this section of the Torah. Something struck me in a different way this year about certain words used in this reading,
The words which caught my eye this year aren’t just words: they are names. And they aren’t just any names – they are the names of the two artisans who were put in charge of designing and building the tabernacle, the house of worship for the Israelites in the wilderness. We probably don’t often think about what our names mean, whether in English, Hebrew, Yiddish or whatever their origin might be. For me, my first name in Hebrew – PERETZ – is one of Jacob’s grandsons in the Bible, but it means to “burst forth.” My middle Hebrew name, LAYB, is actually Yiddish for “lion.” Hopefully, those names combine to keep me focused, firm, creative, enthusiastic and energetic, but NOT ferocious!!!
The names of the two chief architects of the Tabernacle offer us a hint at what it takes to build a sacred community – and, perhaps, any type of community. The first of these two specially-skilled Israelites was named BEZALEL ben (son of) URI ben CHUR. You movie buffs out there may have already caught the source in this passage for title of the epic tale Ben Hur. My Dad always told me that the name HUR (CHUR in Hebrew) came right from this passage in the book of Exodus. Chur means child in most ancient Near Eastern Languages. So the grandfather of the chief artisan is a CHILD, perhaps signifying that all human beings are children of the divine. The father’s name is URI – if you know the word OR, which means light, you could guess that URI means MY LIGHT. So the CHILD of the divine, the grandfather, through his son URI, offers LIGHT to the grandson, B’TZAL-EL, which means “in the shadow of God.” Bezalel’s entire name converges into a humble realization of being connected to all members of the human family, who, when they open their eyes, can see a light of wisdom and insight that enables them to realize that they live in the shadow of God. As we look around this sanctuary, we see light, the NEIR TAMID, the Eternal Light, the Menorot, – visual signs of enduring faith and our opportunity to gain light – inspiration, vision and learning. And how do we benefit from the light and from living in the shadow of God? We find an answer in the name of the other artisan, OHOLIAV ben ACHISAMACH. In this case, the father’s name literally translates as “my brother is a support,” reminding us that supporting one another is essential if a community is going to stand and sustain itself.. And the son’s name, OHOLIAV, means something like “The Father/Parent is my tent,” or it could even mean that “The Father/Parent is my guiding light.” One explanation of this name noted that the fires in the tents of people who dwelled in a desert served like a beacon – an early version of a GPS. When we consider the names of both of the artisans, Bezalel, “in the shadow of God,” and Oholiav, “father/parent is my tent or my guiding beacon,” we have a perfect metaphor of what a sacred community can bring to us: a sense of always being in God’s presence, under God’s protection as we move along a path that enables us to see the spark of the divine in each other’s eyes and in every person. It is that realization, in our tradition, that can lead us to support each other by sharing our wisdom, skills, energy and optimism.
There is one more word to add to this list. The name of our congregation – Yisrael – Israel. Some commentators explained that Yisrael means “to struggle with God,” as explained in the section where Jacob wrestled with a divine being and was given his new name. Others have said it could be taken from the words YASHAR EL, where EL means God and YASHAR comes from the root words which translates as upright, straight, and just. YASHAR is the root for the Hebrew word Y’sharim, which means just and righteous people who follow a path of integrity. Psalm 112 verse 7 declares: ZARACH BACHOSHECH OR LA’YSHARIM CHANUN V’RACHUM V’TZADIK – For the Y’SHARIM, the goodhearted, a light of grace, mercy and justice shines in the darkness.
We have heard many cries resounding all over the world in recent weeks calling upon governmental leaders to show greater respect and justice towards people at all levels of society. The best response to those cries is the one that comes from a higher place. We know how much any community enlivens and enriches itself when it sees itself as living in the shadow of God. For any Jewish community, the moral insights and wisdom from our tradition have the potential to take us to that higher place, where we can gain a deeper understanding about the meaning of justice, equity and freedom in today’s world. May we continue to see the light of Torah as it illumines our path, leading us to take refuge under the shadow and protection of the Oneness inside of us and all around us that permeates all creation and leads us to say with sincerity and hope – HINEI MAH TOV U-MAH NA-EEM, SHEVET ACHIM GAM YACHAD – how good and how pleasant it is when people – all people - dwell together in unity.
May this light continue to be our guide – and let us say amen.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Faith and Trust in the unseen - February 18, 2011
On Wednesday, February 16, our 6th-7th Grade class engaged in an in-depth discussion on the “Golden Calf” episode from this week’s Torah portion, KI TISA. We read the translation from Chapter 32 of Exodus and then split into three groups that answered questions from the perspectives of Moses, Aaron and the people. The general memories of this episode, whether from the biblical text or “the big screen,” would likely include the quick acquiescence of Aaron to the people’s desires to worship something they could see, the restlessness of the people at Moses’ absence, the shattering of the tables of the Ten Utterances/Declarations/Commandments, and the punishment of some of those who were at the forefront of the creation of the calf. Any tale from the Torah has deeper lessons and messages beyond the action on the surface. When the students got back together after our separate discussions, we talked about the importance of trust, loyalty and faith. We also noted how Torah clearly demonstrates that, in a community, patience and forgiveness are essential. We recognized how the Torah portrayed Moses’ anger, but we marveled at the way in which he pleaded with God on behalf of the people (called “stiffnecked” in the Torah – meaning that they couldn’t see anything but their own views/concerns) to let them learn from their impatience and fear as they were trying to become accustomed to their newly-acquired freedom. Finally, we realized that God did listen to Moses and accept, to a great extent, his request to let him lead the Israelites on their journey so that they could grow along their way.
Not only in Egypt, and not only in the Middle East, but even in certain locations in the United States, there are people who are gathering to declare their opposition to their current leadership or to proposals which, they believe, will make their future less secure. In a democracy, this is a guaranteed right, expressed in the form of demonstrations, letters-to-the-editor, strikes by workers when they feel their needs are not being met, and legislative battles. There are lessons for everyone – leaders and citizens – that emerge from this week’s Torah portion in the form of values on which all people can hopefully agree: trust, a willingness to listen, some flexibility in approach and ideology, faith, mutual loyalty and respect as fellow citizens (including leaders), patience, forgiveness, and a well-intentioned and constructive passion for one’s own views and beliefs. Leadership – and being a good citizen – entails fulfilling our responsibilities to make a community, a country, or the world a place where everyone can live in hope and not in fear. Debbie Friedman’s interpretation of the words of the prophet Zechariah says it best: “Not by might and not by power, but by spirit alone shall we all live in peace.”
Shabbat Shalom!
Rabbi Larry
Not only in Egypt, and not only in the Middle East, but even in certain locations in the United States, there are people who are gathering to declare their opposition to their current leadership or to proposals which, they believe, will make their future less secure. In a democracy, this is a guaranteed right, expressed in the form of demonstrations, letters-to-the-editor, strikes by workers when they feel their needs are not being met, and legislative battles. There are lessons for everyone – leaders and citizens – that emerge from this week’s Torah portion in the form of values on which all people can hopefully agree: trust, a willingness to listen, some flexibility in approach and ideology, faith, mutual loyalty and respect as fellow citizens (including leaders), patience, forgiveness, and a well-intentioned and constructive passion for one’s own views and beliefs. Leadership – and being a good citizen – entails fulfilling our responsibilities to make a community, a country, or the world a place where everyone can live in hope and not in fear. Debbie Friedman’s interpretation of the words of the prophet Zechariah says it best: “Not by might and not by power, but by spirit alone shall we all live in peace.”
Shabbat Shalom!
Rabbi Larry
Friday, February 4, 2011
Among Us - February 4, 2011
Shabbat Shalom!
“The Eternal One spoke to Moses, saying: Tell the Israelite people to bring Me gifts; you shall accept gifts for Me from every person whose heart so moves him. And let them make Me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them.”
These verses, which begin this week’s Torah reading, TERUMAH, established a means for individual participation in creating the holy space for Israelite worship. “Bringing gifts” made the people feel a sense of ownership of the spiritual center of their community. Today, we might feel that same sense of ownership in community life through giving charity/tzedakah, giving our time as volunteers for worthy causes, helping with Temple programs and decision-making, and when we enter a voting booth in an election to make a choice between a number of different candidates (from different political parties).
The events in the Middle East (Tunisia, Egypt, Jordan and perhaps other nations as well) demonstrate how the feeling of valued and equal participation in political life is integral to the stability of a government and the collective community of citizens. I wrote a few days ago (in my “Facebook” status message), “In light of the events in Egypt and Jordan, I suppose that the strength of our own political process to sustain itself, even with what we might call ‘vociferous discourse,’ has been put into proper perspective. Here is hoping that any changes in the Middle East will be peaceful but will also allow for diversity of opinion without the threat of violence.” In Egypt and other nations, there are many forces and views coming into play, including supporters of Hosni Mubarak, the Muslim Brotherhood, the Egyptian army, and the “people on the street.” The fact that apologies for violence against protesters have been forthcoming from some government officials offer a sign that the voices of the people have been heard, to some extent. Some analysts are concerned that the protests will be “commandeered” by a group that would enter power and adopt repressive policies. One article I read noted that democratic governments lasted only for a very brief time prior to the Communist takeover in Russia and the ascendancy of the current regime in Iran. What seems to be certain is that people who feel oppressed for too long, or perceive that they have been denied a true opportunity to take part in the political process, will eventually make sure that their voices are heard. I would be interested to hear perspectives from congregants/community members on these current events (perhaps at a face-to-face discussion program – let me know if you are interested).
***************************
Rhonda and I attended the tribute event to honor the memory of Debbie Friedman at Temple Israel in Boston last Sunday. That gathering was also an illustration of “bringing gifts” to the community. First, there was the gift of Debbie Friedman’s leadership and music that pervaded the event as individual Jewish singers/songwriters/performers offered renditions of Debbie’s songs: Rabbi Larry Milder, Sue Horowitz, Cantor Jeff Klepper, Cantors Jodi Sufrin (her late brother Kerry was at Kutz camp with me and Lynne DeSantis in the summer of 1970 for a seven-week program) and Roy Einhorn, Julie Silver, Peri Smilow, Josh Nelson, Peter and Ellen Allard, and Rabbi David Paskin. Local cantors joined in Debbie’s “Mi Shebeirach,” a Boston Jewish community chorus sang Debbie’s “Oseh Shalom,” and over 50 “cantors, songleaders and soloists” (a group in which I participated) joined the others on the bimah at the beginning of the gathering to sing Debbie’s Havdalah blessings and “Im Tirtzu,” and at the end for “L’chi Lach” and “Miriam’s Song.” You can find a video of the entire concert at www.rememberingdebbie.com (there are links on the main page of this website for the video as well as photos of the event). Also, if you click the “tributes” link at the top of the home page, you will go to a screen with a video “box” on the right (which starts with “Remembering Debbie: David Paskin) – that also has a number of videos sent to the site which you can see if you click on the arrows on the left or right side of that box/screen. One of the videos is my “cover” of Debbie’s “Shelter of Peace.”
What was powerful about the event last Sunday was the music and the people. I knew almost everyone sitting around me from one convention or another, and sat next to Rabbi Shaul/Paul Levenson, my 9th Grade teacher whom some of you know from his short time filling in here at Temple Israel Dover in the early 1980s. There are so many songs composed by Debbie that I haven’t had a chance to share, which I hope to include in services and in Religious School song sessions in the coming months. Debbie’s songs are not just songs. They each bear a lesson, or bring a Jewish text and teaching to life. There is so much to learn, and music with a message offers a special spiritual means for incorporating Jewish values into our lives. Please be a part of our chorus of voices as we bring our own gifts to Temple gatherings to allow God to dwell among us in the sanctuary of community.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Friday, January 28, 2011
Not strangers... - January 28, 2011
Shabbat Shalom!
“You shall not oppress a stranger, for you know the feelings of a stranger, having yourselves been strangers in the land of Egypt.”
This verse from this week’s Torah reading, MISHPATIM, resonates with two anniversaries remembered this week.
January 27 is designated by the United Nations as International Holocaust Remembrance Day, marking the liberation of the Auschwitz/Birkenau Nazi concentration/extermination camps in 1945. UN Secretary-General Ban Ki-Moon paid special tribute this year to the women who suffered in the Holocaust in his official statement for this commemoration: "Mothers and daughters, grandmothers, sisters and aunts, they saw their lives irrevocably changed, their families separated and their traditions shattered. Yet, despite appalling acts of discrimination, deprivation and cruelty, they consistently found ways to fight back against their persecutors. They joined the resistance, rescued those in peril, smuggled food into ghettos and made wrenching sacrifices to keep their children alive. Their courage continues to inspire. On this Holocaust Remembrance Day, let us honor these women and their legacy. Let us pledge to create a world where such atrocities can never be repeated.”
Today is the 25th anniversary of the Challenger Space Shuttle accident which many of us, I am sure, vividly remember. The deaths of Dick Scobee. Michael Smith. Ellison Onizuka. Judith Resnik. Ronald McNair. Christa McAuliffe and Gregory Jarvis were a tragedy that touched everyone. It was a crew that was multicultural, multiethnic, multifaith, united in their quest for knowledge that would enhance the human experience. Many people in New Hampshire knew Christa McAuliffe because she was teaching in Concord, New Hampshire. Because Christa McAuliffe was a teacher, she seemed close to all of us - a woman representing any personal quest we may undertake to broaden our horizons. Rhonda and I were shopping for a crib for our soon-to-be-born child when we saw the first news of the accident on the television in that store. We quickly found out that one of our congregants in Topeka, who grew up in Cleveland, knew the Resnik family, and that Rhonda’s brother, Alan, had gone to school in Framingham with Christa’s sister. In all such tragedies, the world should seem close, even without trying to determine our “degrees-of-separation,” because we are all part of one human family. All of us have challenges through which we must find a way to move forward, and, also, to appropriately and sensitively remember so that we can continue to discover and generate hope and light for the future.
It isn’t easy to create a community where no one feels like a stranger. Yet, the best of our tradition calls on us to try our best to bring down barriers and see the interconnections between us all that can enable us to find healing and renewal together. May we continue to join in this task and calling.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
“You shall not oppress a stranger, for you know the feelings of a stranger, having yourselves been strangers in the land of Egypt.”
This verse from this week’s Torah reading, MISHPATIM, resonates with two anniversaries remembered this week.
January 27 is designated by the United Nations as International Holocaust Remembrance Day, marking the liberation of the Auschwitz/Birkenau Nazi concentration/extermination camps in 1945. UN Secretary-General Ban Ki-Moon paid special tribute this year to the women who suffered in the Holocaust in his official statement for this commemoration: "Mothers and daughters, grandmothers, sisters and aunts, they saw their lives irrevocably changed, their families separated and their traditions shattered. Yet, despite appalling acts of discrimination, deprivation and cruelty, they consistently found ways to fight back against their persecutors. They joined the resistance, rescued those in peril, smuggled food into ghettos and made wrenching sacrifices to keep their children alive. Their courage continues to inspire. On this Holocaust Remembrance Day, let us honor these women and their legacy. Let us pledge to create a world where such atrocities can never be repeated.”
Today is the 25th anniversary of the Challenger Space Shuttle accident which many of us, I am sure, vividly remember. The deaths of Dick Scobee. Michael Smith. Ellison Onizuka. Judith Resnik. Ronald McNair. Christa McAuliffe and Gregory Jarvis were a tragedy that touched everyone. It was a crew that was multicultural, multiethnic, multifaith, united in their quest for knowledge that would enhance the human experience. Many people in New Hampshire knew Christa McAuliffe because she was teaching in Concord, New Hampshire. Because Christa McAuliffe was a teacher, she seemed close to all of us - a woman representing any personal quest we may undertake to broaden our horizons. Rhonda and I were shopping for a crib for our soon-to-be-born child when we saw the first news of the accident on the television in that store. We quickly found out that one of our congregants in Topeka, who grew up in Cleveland, knew the Resnik family, and that Rhonda’s brother, Alan, had gone to school in Framingham with Christa’s sister. In all such tragedies, the world should seem close, even without trying to determine our “degrees-of-separation,” because we are all part of one human family. All of us have challenges through which we must find a way to move forward, and, also, to appropriately and sensitively remember so that we can continue to discover and generate hope and light for the future.
It isn’t easy to create a community where no one feels like a stranger. Yet, the best of our tradition calls on us to try our best to bring down barriers and see the interconnections between us all that can enable us to find healing and renewal together. May we continue to join in this task and calling.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Friday, January 21, 2011
Every One—and Everyone—a Treasure - January 21, 2011
FROM THIS WEEK’S TEN MINUTES OF TORAH
From the Union for Reform Judaism-January 17, 2011
Parashat B’shalach
http://tmt.urj.net/archives/1torahstudy/011711.html
DAVAR ACHER (Alternate Interpretation)
Every One—and Everyone—a Treasure
Lawrence P. Karol
Over the years of my rabbinate, I have written, spoken, and composed songs about creating community. Through these kinds of activities, we can do what Rabbi Dan Levin describes (in his featured interpretation for this week) as “weaving a web of relation with each other,” which can, in turn, build a relationship with God. Weaving that web of relationships requires listening to much-needed counsel, as Moses did with his father-in-law Jethro, and, at times, “taking oneself out of the equation,” which Moses learned to do as the Israelites, united as one, promised to follow God’s commandments. Moses, the leader, was reminded that he was both a leader and, still, one of the people.
The word “listen” is prominent in Exodus 19:5, in which God declared, “ ‘V’atah im shamoa tish’m’u B’Koli—Now then, if you will obey Me faithfully [literally, “listen to My voice”] and keep My covenant, you shall be My treasured possession among all the peoples.’ ” The next verse takes the special nature of the Israelite people even further: “ ‘but you shall be to Me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.’ ”
God’s words were conditional: You will be a treasured possession, a kingdom of priests, and a holy people if you keep the covenant. This parashah highlights, as integral to that covenant: truly listening to each other and to a still, small voice that offers guidance and strength, and acting upon what we hear; being humble enough to see oneself as part of the people, willing to put collective needs before personal concerns for the greater good; and recognizing that everyone has the potential to be a treasure and to offer a unique contribution and spirit that can enrich the entire community. May each of us fulfill this for ourselves and lead others along that path to creating a kahal kadosh, a sacred community, wherever we may be.
From the Union for Reform Judaism-January 17, 2011
Parashat B’shalach
http://tmt.urj.net/archives/1torahstudy/011711.html
DAVAR ACHER (Alternate Interpretation)
Every One—and Everyone—a Treasure
Lawrence P. Karol
Over the years of my rabbinate, I have written, spoken, and composed songs about creating community. Through these kinds of activities, we can do what Rabbi Dan Levin describes (in his featured interpretation for this week) as “weaving a web of relation with each other,” which can, in turn, build a relationship with God. Weaving that web of relationships requires listening to much-needed counsel, as Moses did with his father-in-law Jethro, and, at times, “taking oneself out of the equation,” which Moses learned to do as the Israelites, united as one, promised to follow God’s commandments. Moses, the leader, was reminded that he was both a leader and, still, one of the people.
The word “listen” is prominent in Exodus 19:5, in which God declared, “ ‘V’atah im shamoa tish’m’u B’Koli—Now then, if you will obey Me faithfully [literally, “listen to My voice”] and keep My covenant, you shall be My treasured possession among all the peoples.’ ” The next verse takes the special nature of the Israelite people even further: “ ‘but you shall be to Me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.’ ”
God’s words were conditional: You will be a treasured possession, a kingdom of priests, and a holy people if you keep the covenant. This parashah highlights, as integral to that covenant: truly listening to each other and to a still, small voice that offers guidance and strength, and acting upon what we hear; being humble enough to see oneself as part of the people, willing to put collective needs before personal concerns for the greater good; and recognizing that everyone has the potential to be a treasure and to offer a unique contribution and spirit that can enrich the entire community. May each of us fulfill this for ourselves and lead others along that path to creating a kahal kadosh, a sacred community, wherever we may be.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Beloved Community - January 14, 2011
Shabbat Shalom.
“There are certain things we can say about this method [of non-violence] that seeks justice without violence. It does not seek to defeat or humiliate the opponent but to win his friendship and understanding. I think that this is one of the points, one of the basic points, one of the basic distinguishing points between violence and non-violence. The ultimate end of violence is to defeat the opponent. The ultimate end of non-violence is to win the friendship of the opponent…the end is reconciliation; the end is redemption; the end is the creation of the beloved community. It is this type of spirit and this type of love that can transform opposers into friends. It is this type of understanding goodwill that will transform the deep gloom of the old age into the exuberant gladness of the new age. It is this love which will bring about miracles in the hearts of men.”
Martin Luther King, Jr, from “Justice Without Violence,” April 3, 1957 and “Facing the Challenge of a New Age,” 1956
Martin Luther King, Jr.’s concept of the “beloved community” came to mind for me in a variety of ways this week. Tonight is Shabbat Shirah, the Sabbath of Song, when we remember the Israelites rejoicing by the Sea of Reeds after escaping the pursuit of the Egyptians, who had hoped to recapture the Israelites to make them slaves once again. The rabbis wondered why the women happened to have timbrels with them by the sea so that they could break into song and dance, led by Moses’ sister Miriam. They explained that the women had faith that miracles, such as gaining their freedom, awaited them, so that they would have a reason to celebrate. The women carried with them the hope and love of which Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke.
Many members of the worldwide Jewish community have mourned this week the death of songwriter/songleader/performer/teacher Debbie Friedman in California at age 59. I posted some extended comments about Debbie on my personal blog, http://rabbilarrykarol.blogspot.com, recounting some of my more memorable moments with Debbie, beginning even before I met her in 1975. Rhonda and I watched the funeral (you can see it at www.urj.org/debbiefriedman or, along with the evening minyan, at http://www.tbsoc.com/debbie/index.html) this past Tuesday, hearing eulogies from well-known rabbis and teachers, and marveling at the strength of the musical performances by Craig Taubman, Josh Nelson, Julie Silver, and Cantor Linda Kates. Debbie had a way of bringing people together, not only through song, but through prayer and study that emerged from the lyrics and melodies she composed. Her concert performances, workshops at conventions, healing services in many communities, and teaching at camps, congregations and at Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion gave many people a common experience and a shared musical language. That unity has been evident in comments that have pervaded several e-mail digests and facebook over the last few days. The lyrics of Debbie’s song, “One People” reflect Martin Luther King, Jr.’s vision of a beloved community: “We are one people seeking justice, one people seeking freedom, one people seeking hope, one people seeking peace.” Her English setting of a phrase from Psalm 126, “Those who sow in tears will reap in joy,” also conveys a similar message of hope which can guide us in how we view our relationships, including within congregational life.
The tragedy in Tucson this past Saturday has touched our entire nation, and perhaps the world as well. Congressional representative Gabrielle Giffords continues on her difficult road to recovery. I am sure that many of us read in Foster’s Daily Democrat that our congregant Todd Selig has met and gotten to know Representative Giffords:
http://www.fosters.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20110112/GJNEWS_01/701129924/-1/fosnews
I was in contact on Wednesday with two rabbinic colleagues who were touched by this sad event, one who serves the Conservative synagogue in Tucson, the other who was organizing a candlelight vigil at the Claremont Colleges in California for Representative Giffords, who is an alumna of Scripps college. Such ties make the shootings in Tucson seem even closer to us. In an email last Friday night to Kentucky Secretary of State Trey Grayson (soon to be director of Harvard University’s Institute of Politics), Giffords told her friend from the Republican party: “After you get settled, I would love to talk about what we can do to promote centrism and moderation. I am one of only 12 Dems left in a GOP district (the only woman) and think that we need to figure out how to tone our rhetoric and partisanship down,” This vision represents a step towards “beloved community.” President Obama echoed that vision as he memorialized 9 year-old shooting victim Christina-Taylor Green: “Imagine: here was a young girl who was just becoming aware of our democracy; just beginning to understand the obligations of citizenship; just starting to glimpse the fact that someday she too might play a part in shaping her nation’s future. She had been elected to her student council; she saw public service as something exciting, something hopeful. She was off to meet her congresswoman, someone she was sure was good and important and might be a role model. She saw all this through the eyes of a child, undimmed by the cynicism or vitriol that we adults all too often just take for granted….I want us to live up to her expectations. I want our democracy to be as good as she imagined it. All of us – we should do everything we can to make sure this country lives up to our children’s expectations.”
In our nation, in our community, in our congregation, the vision of a beloved community can guide us along a hopeful and productive path, one on which we are traveling companions who are able to engage in civil conversations that can take us forward to achieve our shared goals. May the thoughts we share with one another and the songs we sing continue to make us one people seeking freedom, justice, hope and peace.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
“There are certain things we can say about this method [of non-violence] that seeks justice without violence. It does not seek to defeat or humiliate the opponent but to win his friendship and understanding. I think that this is one of the points, one of the basic points, one of the basic distinguishing points between violence and non-violence. The ultimate end of violence is to defeat the opponent. The ultimate end of non-violence is to win the friendship of the opponent…the end is reconciliation; the end is redemption; the end is the creation of the beloved community. It is this type of spirit and this type of love that can transform opposers into friends. It is this type of understanding goodwill that will transform the deep gloom of the old age into the exuberant gladness of the new age. It is this love which will bring about miracles in the hearts of men.”
Martin Luther King, Jr, from “Justice Without Violence,” April 3, 1957 and “Facing the Challenge of a New Age,” 1956
Martin Luther King, Jr.’s concept of the “beloved community” came to mind for me in a variety of ways this week. Tonight is Shabbat Shirah, the Sabbath of Song, when we remember the Israelites rejoicing by the Sea of Reeds after escaping the pursuit of the Egyptians, who had hoped to recapture the Israelites to make them slaves once again. The rabbis wondered why the women happened to have timbrels with them by the sea so that they could break into song and dance, led by Moses’ sister Miriam. They explained that the women had faith that miracles, such as gaining their freedom, awaited them, so that they would have a reason to celebrate. The women carried with them the hope and love of which Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke.
Many members of the worldwide Jewish community have mourned this week the death of songwriter/songleader/performer/teacher Debbie Friedman in California at age 59. I posted some extended comments about Debbie on my personal blog, http://rabbilarrykarol.blogspot.com, recounting some of my more memorable moments with Debbie, beginning even before I met her in 1975. Rhonda and I watched the funeral (you can see it at www.urj.org/debbiefriedman or, along with the evening minyan, at http://www.tbsoc.com/debbie/index.html) this past Tuesday, hearing eulogies from well-known rabbis and teachers, and marveling at the strength of the musical performances by Craig Taubman, Josh Nelson, Julie Silver, and Cantor Linda Kates. Debbie had a way of bringing people together, not only through song, but through prayer and study that emerged from the lyrics and melodies she composed. Her concert performances, workshops at conventions, healing services in many communities, and teaching at camps, congregations and at Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion gave many people a common experience and a shared musical language. That unity has been evident in comments that have pervaded several e-mail digests and facebook over the last few days. The lyrics of Debbie’s song, “One People” reflect Martin Luther King, Jr.’s vision of a beloved community: “We are one people seeking justice, one people seeking freedom, one people seeking hope, one people seeking peace.” Her English setting of a phrase from Psalm 126, “Those who sow in tears will reap in joy,” also conveys a similar message of hope which can guide us in how we view our relationships, including within congregational life.
The tragedy in Tucson this past Saturday has touched our entire nation, and perhaps the world as well. Congressional representative Gabrielle Giffords continues on her difficult road to recovery. I am sure that many of us read in Foster’s Daily Democrat that our congregant Todd Selig has met and gotten to know Representative Giffords:
http://www.fosters.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20110112/GJNEWS_01/701129924/-1/fosnews
I was in contact on Wednesday with two rabbinic colleagues who were touched by this sad event, one who serves the Conservative synagogue in Tucson, the other who was organizing a candlelight vigil at the Claremont Colleges in California for Representative Giffords, who is an alumna of Scripps college. Such ties make the shootings in Tucson seem even closer to us. In an email last Friday night to Kentucky Secretary of State Trey Grayson (soon to be director of Harvard University’s Institute of Politics), Giffords told her friend from the Republican party: “After you get settled, I would love to talk about what we can do to promote centrism and moderation. I am one of only 12 Dems left in a GOP district (the only woman) and think that we need to figure out how to tone our rhetoric and partisanship down,” This vision represents a step towards “beloved community.” President Obama echoed that vision as he memorialized 9 year-old shooting victim Christina-Taylor Green: “Imagine: here was a young girl who was just becoming aware of our democracy; just beginning to understand the obligations of citizenship; just starting to glimpse the fact that someday she too might play a part in shaping her nation’s future. She had been elected to her student council; she saw public service as something exciting, something hopeful. She was off to meet her congresswoman, someone she was sure was good and important and might be a role model. She saw all this through the eyes of a child, undimmed by the cynicism or vitriol that we adults all too often just take for granted….I want us to live up to her expectations. I want our democracy to be as good as she imagined it. All of us – we should do everything we can to make sure this country lives up to our children’s expectations.”
In our nation, in our community, in our congregation, the vision of a beloved community can guide us along a hopeful and productive path, one on which we are traveling companions who are able to engage in civil conversations that can take us forward to achieve our shared goals. May the thoughts we share with one another and the songs we sing continue to make us one people seeking freedom, justice, hope and peace.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Friday, January 7, 2011
Light in their dwellings - January 7, 2011
Shabbat Shalom!
During the plague of darkness in Egypt, the Israelites “enjoyed light in all their dwellings,” while the Egyptians found themselves in thick blackness “that could be touched.”
It may be difficult to imagine such a darkness. The Etz Hayim commentary suggests that this must not have been the type of darkness that could be defined as the “relative absence of light.” The Torah stated that the Egyptians “could not see one another, and for three days no one could get up from where he/she was.”
This mysterious darkness was immobilizing and debilitating in ways that seem physical but could be, primarily, spiritual or psychological. With such an interpretation, we could say that darkness has descended on a community when people are unable to recognize each other as fellow human beings, perhaps due to conflict, accumulated animosity or even hatred.
Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. thought of hatred and love in terms of darkness and light. In one of his well –known sermons at the Dexter Avenue Baptist Church in Montgomery, Alabama in 1957, he asserted: “Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”
King’s notion of casting light on a place where there is only darkness relates to the Torah’s tale of the Egyptian refusal to grant the Israelites freedom. As Pharaoh was immobilized and unable to see the good that would come from liberating the slaves in his own heart and for his people, so were the people also caught in a place where they could not recognize the humanity of the Israelites among them. That was the darkness that engulfed them, and there was no guarantee that even granting the Israelites their freedom would dispel that darkness.
We know well that the plague of such darkness persists in many corners of the earth and in the human heart. The words of Psalm 112, as translated by Pamela Greenberg, offer us insight into how goodness and godliness can lift us to a higher place: “For the goodhearted, light shines even in the dark: you are full of grace, compassion and justice.” The “you” can be God or the spark of God in each of us. May we continue to nurture that light within us.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
During the plague of darkness in Egypt, the Israelites “enjoyed light in all their dwellings,” while the Egyptians found themselves in thick blackness “that could be touched.”
It may be difficult to imagine such a darkness. The Etz Hayim commentary suggests that this must not have been the type of darkness that could be defined as the “relative absence of light.” The Torah stated that the Egyptians “could not see one another, and for three days no one could get up from where he/she was.”
This mysterious darkness was immobilizing and debilitating in ways that seem physical but could be, primarily, spiritual or psychological. With such an interpretation, we could say that darkness has descended on a community when people are unable to recognize each other as fellow human beings, perhaps due to conflict, accumulated animosity or even hatred.
Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. thought of hatred and love in terms of darkness and light. In one of his well –known sermons at the Dexter Avenue Baptist Church in Montgomery, Alabama in 1957, he asserted: “Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”
King’s notion of casting light on a place where there is only darkness relates to the Torah’s tale of the Egyptian refusal to grant the Israelites freedom. As Pharaoh was immobilized and unable to see the good that would come from liberating the slaves in his own heart and for his people, so were the people also caught in a place where they could not recognize the humanity of the Israelites among them. That was the darkness that engulfed them, and there was no guarantee that even granting the Israelites their freedom would dispel that darkness.
We know well that the plague of such darkness persists in many corners of the earth and in the human heart. The words of Psalm 112, as translated by Pamela Greenberg, offer us insight into how goodness and godliness can lift us to a higher place: “For the goodhearted, light shines even in the dark: you are full of grace, compassion and justice.” The “you” can be God or the spark of God in each of us. May we continue to nurture that light within us.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
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