Shabbat Shalom and Happy Chanukah!
During the recent weeks, columnists David Brooks and Christopher Hitchens set their sights on Chanukah in a way that focused on the immediate aftermath of the Chanukah event. The Maccabean/Hasmonean dynasty, they pointed out, did not feature the most benevolent of rulers (for example, they were not too fond of the rabbis/Pharisees, whose inquisitive approach to Jewish texts and traditions posed a religious and political challenge). Both Brooks and Hitchens, in one way or another, sang the praises of Greek culture and science while nearly whitewashing the negative costs of Greek military, political and cultural dominance. Hitchens, especially, claimed that the Maccabees deprived Judea of the best (science, philosophy, and reason) that the Greeks had to offer. Rabbi Michael Lerner (Tikkun Magazine), in responding to both columns, noted that he and his fellow spiritual progressives would not have rejected the strides in science and reason offered by the Greeks. I am not certain that the Maccabees totally rejected Greek culture even after they had come to power, and they certainly did not totally curtail its influence. The next 200 years of Jewish life and thought following the rededication of the Temple by the Maccabees included interpretations of Judaism that reflected either a Greek/Hellenistic influence or, at least, a need to cast biblical figures (as Philo of Alexandria did with Moses) in terms that the Greco-Roman world could understand.
Lerner’s best point was that what Chanukah – and Judaism – mean to us today is what is most important. As early as 1700 years ago, the rabbis shifted Chanukah’s message from celebration of a military victory to marveling at a miracle. We see something very special in the lights of the Chanukiah that warms us more and more with each passing night. The values that Chanukah inspires in us were reflected in lists developed this past Wednesday by our 2nd-3rd Grade students (values and gifts to the world for the 8 days of Chanukah) and our 7th Graders (a “consensus” list of the fundamental values of Judaism)
Menorah/Chanukiah of Gifts to the World
2nd-3rd Grade Class taught by Rhonda Karol, Abby Heisler
and Lilah Cherim
*Love *Reduce/Recycle/Reuse *Niceness *Happiness/Hope *Peace
*Laughter *Joy *Health *Appreciation
Ten Basic Jewish Values
7th Grade Class taught by Rabbi Larry Karol, Erin Sandler, Owen Shepcaro and Andrew McDonald (Thanks to Maria Rubinstein for assisting on Wednesday)
*Monotheism *Peace * Education (including Torah study, Bar/Bat Mitzvah)
*Selflessness (Tzedakah) *Freedom *Respect (of all religions, equality)
*Responsibility *Hebrew (how Jews understand their history and each other)
*Tradition *Music (expressing emotions and feelings)
These are just some of the gifts and values that emerge from our study of the Jewish heritage and from building community together. May all of these special lights be with us in the year to come!!!
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Friday, December 11, 2009
What We're Fighting For - December 11, 2009
Shabbat Shalom and Happy Chanukah!
When I saw that President Barack Obama’s Nobel Peace Prize acceptance speech was going to be aired yesterday during the time that I normally watch a network morning show, I decided to tune in to CNN, the only network airing the ceremony. President Obama’s words, in many ways, spoke to the roots and development of our celebration of Chanukah, which first marked a military victory and, eventually, became a festival whose lights, which increase every night, would signify hope for generations to come.
As I perused a text of the speech, this passage caught my eye: “I believe that peace is unstable where citizens are denied the right to speak freely or worship as they please; choose their own leaders or assemble without fear.”
This theme is central to the Chanukah story. King Antiochus IV, at first, tried to unite his empire under the banner of Greek customs, culture and religion through what we could call “peer pressure,” and, due to the fascination of many Jews in ancient Judea with the Greek way of life, it nearly worked. Some Jews resisted because they had a feeling that pressure would turn into coercion or even oppression. That view was proven to be correct once King Antiochus made the Temple in Jerusalem a Greek house of worship and forbade the practice of Judaism, under penalty of death. Even Jews who had become enamored with Greek customs realized that their fascination was misplaced if their Syrian Greek ruler could so easily turn to tyranny to impose his will. The peace and unity Antiochus sought was unstable and, furthermore, an illusion. The Jews who fought back against the Syrian Greeks, led by the priest Mattathias and his sons, knew what they were fighting for: “the right to speak freely or worship as they please, to choose their own leaders or assemble without fear.”
The Jews of Judea did have to fight a war to win back their religious freedom. Still, the words of Peter Yarrow’s song, “Light One Candle,” offer us a dose wisdom regarding war and peace: “Light one candle for the wisdom to know when the peacemaker’s time is at hand.”
It is important that, as we gaze at the lights of Chanukah, we remember what we are fighting for – freedom, hope, and peace – and that we allow these goals, shared by Jews around the world and all humankind – to unite us as we gather today on Chanukah and throughout the year!
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
When I saw that President Barack Obama’s Nobel Peace Prize acceptance speech was going to be aired yesterday during the time that I normally watch a network morning show, I decided to tune in to CNN, the only network airing the ceremony. President Obama’s words, in many ways, spoke to the roots and development of our celebration of Chanukah, which first marked a military victory and, eventually, became a festival whose lights, which increase every night, would signify hope for generations to come.
As I perused a text of the speech, this passage caught my eye: “I believe that peace is unstable where citizens are denied the right to speak freely or worship as they please; choose their own leaders or assemble without fear.”
This theme is central to the Chanukah story. King Antiochus IV, at first, tried to unite his empire under the banner of Greek customs, culture and religion through what we could call “peer pressure,” and, due to the fascination of many Jews in ancient Judea with the Greek way of life, it nearly worked. Some Jews resisted because they had a feeling that pressure would turn into coercion or even oppression. That view was proven to be correct once King Antiochus made the Temple in Jerusalem a Greek house of worship and forbade the practice of Judaism, under penalty of death. Even Jews who had become enamored with Greek customs realized that their fascination was misplaced if their Syrian Greek ruler could so easily turn to tyranny to impose his will. The peace and unity Antiochus sought was unstable and, furthermore, an illusion. The Jews who fought back against the Syrian Greeks, led by the priest Mattathias and his sons, knew what they were fighting for: “the right to speak freely or worship as they please, to choose their own leaders or assemble without fear.”
The Jews of Judea did have to fight a war to win back their religious freedom. Still, the words of Peter Yarrow’s song, “Light One Candle,” offer us a dose wisdom regarding war and peace: “Light one candle for the wisdom to know when the peacemaker’s time is at hand.”
It is important that, as we gaze at the lights of Chanukah, we remember what we are fighting for – freedom, hope, and peace – and that we allow these goals, shared by Jews around the world and all humankind – to unite us as we gather today on Chanukah and throughout the year!
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Positive Challenge December 3, 2009
In families, in congregations, and in communities, there are people who become sources of positive challenge for us. Sometimes it can be a friend or a family member. It might be an ideological ally or a person in the “loyal opposition,” where disagreement does not result in disengagement. We grow from such challenges, whether they are the result of a clash of opinions or a partnership that teaches us a new approach or perspective. In order to grow, it is best that there be an atmosphere of respect that fosters trust and acceptance even when common views are not shared.
In the Torah reading for this week, Jacob discovered that his long-lost brother Esau, his lifelong adversary, was coming to meet him with several hundred men. Of course, Jacob, at first, thought that his brother’s objective was murder or capture of his family. He sent gifts to placate Esau, sent his family across the nearby stream, and engaged in a wrestling match with a being – perhaps a man, or an angel, or Esau’s angel, or Esau himself, or an external representation of Jacob’s inner struggle to overcome his past. He won “the match,” which left him with a strained hip, and Jacob emerged with a new name, Israel, for, as the “being” told him, “for you have striven with beings divine and human and have prevailed.” Jacob/Israel then went to greet Esau, hoping for and receiving the best, as they reunited with an embrace. Esau suggested that Jacob follow him on his journey and remain together. Jacob indicated that he might consider join his brother, but he chose to go his own way instead (without letting Esau know). Jacob/Israel grew from this experience, having successfully triumphed in meeting an internal challenge that was signified on the outside by his brother Esau. Where there had been only suspicion, at least on Jacob’s part, there was now a cautious but very real respect between brothers, enough that they could leave the past behind and start anew.
In our world, there are all too many examples of growth out of a challenging time that must take place in the midst of bitter contention. We have the ability within us to keep our comments and actions constructive and positive, even when agreement may not be possible, as we realize that there are many ways of reaching our common goals and as we teach each other through sharing our respective ideas and the varying paths we have chosen. May we serve as partners for one another so that our challenges can lead to peace within ourselves and with each other.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
In the Torah reading for this week, Jacob discovered that his long-lost brother Esau, his lifelong adversary, was coming to meet him with several hundred men. Of course, Jacob, at first, thought that his brother’s objective was murder or capture of his family. He sent gifts to placate Esau, sent his family across the nearby stream, and engaged in a wrestling match with a being – perhaps a man, or an angel, or Esau’s angel, or Esau himself, or an external representation of Jacob’s inner struggle to overcome his past. He won “the match,” which left him with a strained hip, and Jacob emerged with a new name, Israel, for, as the “being” told him, “for you have striven with beings divine and human and have prevailed.” Jacob/Israel then went to greet Esau, hoping for and receiving the best, as they reunited with an embrace. Esau suggested that Jacob follow him on his journey and remain together. Jacob indicated that he might consider join his brother, but he chose to go his own way instead (without letting Esau know). Jacob/Israel grew from this experience, having successfully triumphed in meeting an internal challenge that was signified on the outside by his brother Esau. Where there had been only suspicion, at least on Jacob’s part, there was now a cautious but very real respect between brothers, enough that they could leave the past behind and start anew.
In our world, there are all too many examples of growth out of a challenging time that must take place in the midst of bitter contention. We have the ability within us to keep our comments and actions constructive and positive, even when agreement may not be possible, as we realize that there are many ways of reaching our common goals and as we teach each other through sharing our respective ideas and the varying paths we have chosen. May we serve as partners for one another so that our challenges can lead to peace within ourselves and with each other.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Sitting Together in Unity - November 26, 2009 (From www.reverbnation.com/larry karol blog)
November 26, 2009
I recently officiated at the funeral of a congregant who had been one of the leaders in Dover (New Hampshire) Cooperative Ministries, a group of lay leaders from local congregations who support interreligious programs that promote understanding and helping agencies (a food pantry, an assistance fund and a kitchen the offers a hot meal daily to people in need). I am currently the convener of the local clergy group, the Dover Area Religious Leaders Association. I have always thought that this work is central to what I do, because it brings people of different faiths and backgrounds together to share beliefs and ideas in a way that creates familiarity where their otherwise could be misunderstanding and suspicion.
Our organizations sponsor a Community Thanksgiving Service each year on the Sunday preceding Thanksgiving. I have participated in this type of service since 1984, my first year as rabbi of Temple Beth Sholom in Topeka, Kansas. I am honored to continue this type of communal participation as rabbi of Temple Israel in Dover, New Hampshire. The service in Dover this year was dedicated to the memory of the congregant (Lorraine Goren) who died in late October.
As I was getting ready to lead my Temple singers in a rehearsal of the song we planned to sing at the service, I was thinking about the service in relation to Psalm 133, which begins with a very familiar biblical text: "How good and how pleasant it is when people dwell together in unity." It continues with imagery that expresses a longing for the divided kingdom - Israel in the north and Judah in the south - to one day reunite. That did not happen, but the desire echoes throughout the generations with the many musical settings of the first line of this Psalm.
Yet, I was thinking about the Psalm and about what my congregant Lorraine and many other volunteers and clergy have tried to do in interfaith work - to build bridges to understanding to preclude the possibity of division. Less that an hour before the service began, I scribble down these lyrics:
How good and how pleasant it is when we sit together
How good and how pleasant it is - Hinei Mah Tov U-mah na-eem
Are we destined to live in a house divided?
How can we see clearly what makes us united?
When we feel the ties that bind us,
Love and understanding will find us.
I quickly worked out the melody, and sang the song at the service, less that two hours after the song had been completed. It was one of those moments when I felt like more of a "conduit" than the originating songwriter. One of my congregants said later that it was "a God thing." Whatever it was, it is an expression of a hope that we can overcome divisions in our communities and in the world and see what we hold in common in a way that we will be able to cooperate in our attempts to make this a better world.
I will post the song in the near future!
I recently officiated at the funeral of a congregant who had been one of the leaders in Dover (New Hampshire) Cooperative Ministries, a group of lay leaders from local congregations who support interreligious programs that promote understanding and helping agencies (a food pantry, an assistance fund and a kitchen the offers a hot meal daily to people in need). I am currently the convener of the local clergy group, the Dover Area Religious Leaders Association. I have always thought that this work is central to what I do, because it brings people of different faiths and backgrounds together to share beliefs and ideas in a way that creates familiarity where their otherwise could be misunderstanding and suspicion.
Our organizations sponsor a Community Thanksgiving Service each year on the Sunday preceding Thanksgiving. I have participated in this type of service since 1984, my first year as rabbi of Temple Beth Sholom in Topeka, Kansas. I am honored to continue this type of communal participation as rabbi of Temple Israel in Dover, New Hampshire. The service in Dover this year was dedicated to the memory of the congregant (Lorraine Goren) who died in late October.
As I was getting ready to lead my Temple singers in a rehearsal of the song we planned to sing at the service, I was thinking about the service in relation to Psalm 133, which begins with a very familiar biblical text: "How good and how pleasant it is when people dwell together in unity." It continues with imagery that expresses a longing for the divided kingdom - Israel in the north and Judah in the south - to one day reunite. That did not happen, but the desire echoes throughout the generations with the many musical settings of the first line of this Psalm.
Yet, I was thinking about the Psalm and about what my congregant Lorraine and many other volunteers and clergy have tried to do in interfaith work - to build bridges to understanding to preclude the possibity of division. Less that an hour before the service began, I scribble down these lyrics:
How good and how pleasant it is when we sit together
How good and how pleasant it is - Hinei Mah Tov U-mah na-eem
Are we destined to live in a house divided?
How can we see clearly what makes us united?
When we feel the ties that bind us,
Love and understanding will find us.
I quickly worked out the melody, and sang the song at the service, less that two hours after the song had been completed. It was one of those moments when I felt like more of a "conduit" than the originating songwriter. One of my congregants said later that it was "a God thing." Whatever it was, it is an expression of a hope that we can overcome divisions in our communities and in the world and see what we hold in common in a way that we will be able to cooperate in our attempts to make this a better world.
I will post the song in the near future!
Gratitude - Looking backward and forward November 26, 2009
I asked our Religious School students in Grades 4 through 7 last Wednesday, “What are you thankful for?” They listed many of the aspects of life that we might expect them to mention, with a few additions:
Family - Everything – Siblings – Food – Life – Pets – Home - Teachers
Friends - Ability to Learn – Trees – Sun - the Beauty of the Earth
Good Grades - Chanukah - Freedom
Their comments offered a contrast to the vow/prayer uttered by Jacob at the end of the first section of this week’s Torah reading. Jacob awoke from his dream of a ladder reaching to the sky, in which he received comforting words from the divine, with an expression of surprise: “God was in this place and I, I did not know!” He set the stone on which he rested his head as a marker to recall this special moment. Then he proceeded to offer this vow, “If God is with me and watches over me on this path that I am taking and gives me bread to eat and clothes to wear, and if I return safely to my father's house, then will the Eternal be my God; and this stone that I have set up as a monument shall be a house of God. And [of] all that You give me, I will dedicate a tenth to You.”
Some commentators have wondered whether it was appropriate for Jacob, to say, “God, if You do for me A,B and C, then You will be my God.” Having just left home, Jacob was in an uncertain position, not having total confidence that all would turn our right for him. His sense of a divine presence in his life seemed to be more through looking back to where he had been rather than looking forward to where he would be going. He saw God in the place where he spent the night only after he slept there, but he also seemed to have a sense that he would be able to fulfill his vow, that he would look back on his life in years to come and say, “God was with me!”
Saying “what we are thankful for” in life is like Jacob’s vow and prayer, but it voices a greater certainty that we can be grateful now for the blessings we enjoy. May we put our lives in perspective, not only on Thanksgiving, but every day, and recognize the good that we have, the good that we have done, and the good that we will do.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Family - Everything – Siblings – Food – Life – Pets – Home - Teachers
Friends - Ability to Learn – Trees – Sun - the Beauty of the Earth
Good Grades - Chanukah - Freedom
Their comments offered a contrast to the vow/prayer uttered by Jacob at the end of the first section of this week’s Torah reading. Jacob awoke from his dream of a ladder reaching to the sky, in which he received comforting words from the divine, with an expression of surprise: “God was in this place and I, I did not know!” He set the stone on which he rested his head as a marker to recall this special moment. Then he proceeded to offer this vow, “If God is with me and watches over me on this path that I am taking and gives me bread to eat and clothes to wear, and if I return safely to my father's house, then will the Eternal be my God; and this stone that I have set up as a monument shall be a house of God. And [of] all that You give me, I will dedicate a tenth to You.”
Some commentators have wondered whether it was appropriate for Jacob, to say, “God, if You do for me A,B and C, then You will be my God.” Having just left home, Jacob was in an uncertain position, not having total confidence that all would turn our right for him. His sense of a divine presence in his life seemed to be more through looking back to where he had been rather than looking forward to where he would be going. He saw God in the place where he spent the night only after he slept there, but he also seemed to have a sense that he would be able to fulfill his vow, that he would look back on his life in years to come and say, “God was with me!”
Saying “what we are thankful for” in life is like Jacob’s vow and prayer, but it voices a greater certainty that we can be grateful now for the blessings we enjoy. May we put our lives in perspective, not only on Thanksgiving, but every day, and recognize the good that we have, the good that we have done, and the good that we will do.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Finding our “inner self” - November 19, 2009
At a meeting in the community this week, we were discussing how, sometimes, a situation makes it necessary for us to, in some way, temporarily change “who we are” so that we can better deal with our surroundings. I told the group about the times when Rhonda, Adam and I would travel to Boston from Topeka, Kansas to visit my brother and his family. We would land at Logan Airport and get our rental car, and then, I would be coached, with a running background commentary and flow of advice, on how to drive in Boston. Where I might have been totally relaxed as a driver otherwise, I realized that there was no room for being tentative at the wheel. I HAD to change my driving style to be, at the very least, staunchly assertive. One of the other members of the group talked about driving south on I-93 and, once she crossed the border from New Hampshire into Massachusetts, she seemed like a different person, losing all of the calm that had characterized her behind-the-wheel persona in the Granite State.
This discussion made me look at the Torah reading for this week in the portion TOL’DOT with a new perspective. Isaac’s wife, Rebekah, believed that her son Jacob (known for his passive character and for being at the family home) deserved to have his father’s main blessing rather than her first-born son, Esau, the rugged outdoorsman/hunter. Rebekah prepared food for Jacob to take to his father and put animal skins on Jacob’s arms to make them feel like the skin of his brother. When Isaac asked Jacob who he was, he said, “It is I, Esau, your first born.” Isaac responded, “The voice is the voice of Jacob, but the hands are the hands of Esau.” While most reactions to this passage focus on the aspect of Jacob deceiving his father, it may be that, in this episode, Jacob found something in himself he had not shown before. In order to confirm that HE was worthy of his father’s first-born blessing, he had to act like a first-born by being a leader, by taking a risk, by demonstrating that carrying on the family legacy passed down from Abraham was all important to him. Some commentators suggest that Isaac wasn’t deceived at all, but that he knew all along that it was really Jacob in front of him. His comment, “the hands are the hands of Esau” could be seen as an acknowledgement that Jacob had found his assertive inner self in order to stand proudly before his father as a personal declaration that he deserved the blessing that was about to be bestowed upon him. It is true that this still leaves Jacob in a precarious moral position, but it also demonstrates how a person can take on identity on the outside that may have been dormant on the inside, a persona that could bring benefit and growth.
We should, of course, always try to be who we are, but that can include discovering new possibilities for who we can be. May we always explore our own potential and find paths that will lead us to honesty and blessing.
-- L’shalom, Rabbi Larry
This discussion made me look at the Torah reading for this week in the portion TOL’DOT with a new perspective. Isaac’s wife, Rebekah, believed that her son Jacob (known for his passive character and for being at the family home) deserved to have his father’s main blessing rather than her first-born son, Esau, the rugged outdoorsman/hunter. Rebekah prepared food for Jacob to take to his father and put animal skins on Jacob’s arms to make them feel like the skin of his brother. When Isaac asked Jacob who he was, he said, “It is I, Esau, your first born.” Isaac responded, “The voice is the voice of Jacob, but the hands are the hands of Esau.” While most reactions to this passage focus on the aspect of Jacob deceiving his father, it may be that, in this episode, Jacob found something in himself he had not shown before. In order to confirm that HE was worthy of his father’s first-born blessing, he had to act like a first-born by being a leader, by taking a risk, by demonstrating that carrying on the family legacy passed down from Abraham was all important to him. Some commentators suggest that Isaac wasn’t deceived at all, but that he knew all along that it was really Jacob in front of him. His comment, “the hands are the hands of Esau” could be seen as an acknowledgement that Jacob had found his assertive inner self in order to stand proudly before his father as a personal declaration that he deserved the blessing that was about to be bestowed upon him. It is true that this still leaves Jacob in a precarious moral position, but it also demonstrates how a person can take on identity on the outside that may have been dormant on the inside, a persona that could bring benefit and growth.
We should, of course, always try to be who we are, but that can include discovering new possibilities for who we can be. May we always explore our own potential and find paths that will lead us to honesty and blessing.
-- L’shalom, Rabbi Larry
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Let this turn out all right!
November 13, 2009
In any crucial moment in our lives, we may have, at least, a fleeting thought of hoping for the best outcome under the circumstances, whatever they may be. This isn’t necessarily an attempt to control specific events in our lives. It can be, more appropriately, a way of creating within ourselves a positive attitude that can help us through even the most difficult of situations. For some, that “fleeting thought” may be a prayer. No matter how we choose to express ourselves, it is part of our nature to say, in one way or another, “please, let this turn out all right on some level when it’s all over."
I wonder, then, why some rabbinic commentators scolded Abraham’s servant (named Eliezer by later tradition, but not in the Torah) who went to find a wife for Abraham’s son, Isaac, among the extended family. Once he arrived at his destination, Eliezer said to himself, “God, grant me good fortune this day.” He then began to imagine that one of the young women who came to draw water would offer him a drink AND, without him having to suggest it, draw water also for his camels. He was looking for someone kind and generous. It so happened that the young women who did what he had hoped, Rebekah, was beautiful, but she would not have been “the answer to his prayer” if she had not given water to Eliezer’s camels. Some rabbis thought, in looking at the biblical tale, that Eliezer was asking for divine intervention. Others said that he was simply looking for a sign of kindness from, at least, one person. It is possible that he may not have ended up finding it, but he did, and, consequently, he extended to Rebekah and her family the same kindness and generosity that emanated from her.
Kindness and generosity are signs of menschlichkeit, being a decent human being. They are characteristics that are expressed through actions that offer us support and warmth. We can find these signs all around us, in any situation. Even when times seem dark and foreboding, kindness and generosity can offer us light and hope that will enable us to keep ourselves going and offer such gifts to others in return. May we find and create such signs among us in the days to come.
In any crucial moment in our lives, we may have, at least, a fleeting thought of hoping for the best outcome under the circumstances, whatever they may be. This isn’t necessarily an attempt to control specific events in our lives. It can be, more appropriately, a way of creating within ourselves a positive attitude that can help us through even the most difficult of situations. For some, that “fleeting thought” may be a prayer. No matter how we choose to express ourselves, it is part of our nature to say, in one way or another, “please, let this turn out all right on some level when it’s all over."
I wonder, then, why some rabbinic commentators scolded Abraham’s servant (named Eliezer by later tradition, but not in the Torah) who went to find a wife for Abraham’s son, Isaac, among the extended family. Once he arrived at his destination, Eliezer said to himself, “God, grant me good fortune this day.” He then began to imagine that one of the young women who came to draw water would offer him a drink AND, without him having to suggest it, draw water also for his camels. He was looking for someone kind and generous. It so happened that the young women who did what he had hoped, Rebekah, was beautiful, but she would not have been “the answer to his prayer” if she had not given water to Eliezer’s camels. Some rabbis thought, in looking at the biblical tale, that Eliezer was asking for divine intervention. Others said that he was simply looking for a sign of kindness from, at least, one person. It is possible that he may not have ended up finding it, but he did, and, consequently, he extended to Rebekah and her family the same kindness and generosity that emanated from her.
Kindness and generosity are signs of menschlichkeit, being a decent human being. They are characteristics that are expressed through actions that offer us support and warmth. We can find these signs all around us, in any situation. Even when times seem dark and foreboding, kindness and generosity can offer us light and hope that will enable us to keep ourselves going and offer such gifts to others in return. May we find and create such signs among us in the days to come.
A spirited welcome!
November 6, 2009
Shabbat Shalom from Toronto!
Just a quick note from your traveling rabbi who will soon be back home. I have learned a lot at the Union for Reform Judaism Biennial so far about interfaith activities, building community, fostering leadership at all levels of Temple membership and, of course, new music. As I think about the Torah readings from last week and this week, I am struck by what they teach us about being a part of a community. In last week's parashah, Lech L'cha, Abram and Sarai leave their home to go to a new land, where, as "strangers," they began to settle in with sense of excitement and optimism. In this week's portion (my Bar Mitzvah portion), Abraham and Sarah welcomed guests who came to their tent with surprising news (Sarah laughed when she found out she was going to have son!). The elements are there of being both the newcomer who looks at new surroundings with hope,and the seasoned resident who opens up a home with generosity and gusto (the Torah says that Abraham, at an advanced age, "ran" to be a good host!). Let us remember to keep the perspective of the hopeful new arrival AND the veteran who remembers being a new arrival and, consequently, offers the best hospitality possible - both views can only help us create a warm home and a vibrant community!
Shabbat Shalom from Toronto!
Just a quick note from your traveling rabbi who will soon be back home. I have learned a lot at the Union for Reform Judaism Biennial so far about interfaith activities, building community, fostering leadership at all levels of Temple membership and, of course, new music. As I think about the Torah readings from last week and this week, I am struck by what they teach us about being a part of a community. In last week's parashah, Lech L'cha, Abram and Sarai leave their home to go to a new land, where, as "strangers," they began to settle in with sense of excitement and optimism. In this week's portion (my Bar Mitzvah portion), Abraham and Sarah welcomed guests who came to their tent with surprising news (Sarah laughed when she found out she was going to have son!). The elements are there of being both the newcomer who looks at new surroundings with hope,and the seasoned resident who opens up a home with generosity and gusto (the Torah says that Abraham, at an advanced age, "ran" to be a good host!). Let us remember to keep the perspective of the hopeful new arrival AND the veteran who remembers being a new arrival and, consequently, offers the best hospitality possible - both views can only help us create a warm home and a vibrant community!
Waiting for More Safe Places
October 23, 2009
Of all years, this one seemed to me to bear an even greater urgency for getting a seasonal flu vaccination. When I found out that my primary care physician’s office had no vaccine left for now, I took it upon myself to find somewhere nearby (even within 100 miles!) that had flu vaccinations available. After some exploration and checking, I was told that I could make my way to Care Pharmacy in Rochester this week for a Rochester Visiting Nurses Association morning clinic. I arrived 10 minutes before the clinic began to find a long line that, I thought, might take 2 hours. It didn’t take that long (20 minutes), but it was fascinating to see how many people had come out, creating our own microcosm of community in line as we waited for our turn. Once I got near the front, I asked the nurse how she was doing that day (I wanted to be sure to acknowledge her as a member of this short-lived community!). It was actually a peaceful experience that offered a brief connection to people I might not have otherwise met.
As I thought about the Torah portion for the week, featuring Noah answering God’s call to build an ark for the coming flood, I thought about the clinic, and perhaps, each of us in line, as being like Noah in some way. Noah’s ark offered a small group of people and many animals protection from the coming flood and storms. The flu vaccination offers protection from some of invisible and subtle health challenges that surround us. I also thought about our health care/health insurance system offering us assurance and hope. Unfortunately, if our health care system is like Noah’s ark, not everyone is on the ark, and even some people on the ark aren’t well protected from “floods and storms” that might come their way. Getting a flu vaccination helps each person and promotes health among members of a community. Providing health insurance to all, in whatever way we can, also offers benefit not only each individual or family, but all people in a community or nation. The ark was a place where a remnant of humanity, Noah’s family, was saved because Noah was “righteous in his time.” Hopefully, we believe that everyone deserves to have the support, protection and peace of mind that comes from the availability and affordability of good health care.
Health care providers, the insurance industry, concerned citizens and legislators are working out the details of what our health insurance “ark” might look like. There are many possible solutions, most of them very costly, but all of them worthy of consideration due to the sense that change is necessary. Let us hope that, when the process is complete, everyone will have a some semblance of a “safe place” on the “ark” that will offer them health and well-being.
Of all years, this one seemed to me to bear an even greater urgency for getting a seasonal flu vaccination. When I found out that my primary care physician’s office had no vaccine left for now, I took it upon myself to find somewhere nearby (even within 100 miles!) that had flu vaccinations available. After some exploration and checking, I was told that I could make my way to Care Pharmacy in Rochester this week for a Rochester Visiting Nurses Association morning clinic. I arrived 10 minutes before the clinic began to find a long line that, I thought, might take 2 hours. It didn’t take that long (20 minutes), but it was fascinating to see how many people had come out, creating our own microcosm of community in line as we waited for our turn. Once I got near the front, I asked the nurse how she was doing that day (I wanted to be sure to acknowledge her as a member of this short-lived community!). It was actually a peaceful experience that offered a brief connection to people I might not have otherwise met.
As I thought about the Torah portion for the week, featuring Noah answering God’s call to build an ark for the coming flood, I thought about the clinic, and perhaps, each of us in line, as being like Noah in some way. Noah’s ark offered a small group of people and many animals protection from the coming flood and storms. The flu vaccination offers protection from some of invisible and subtle health challenges that surround us. I also thought about our health care/health insurance system offering us assurance and hope. Unfortunately, if our health care system is like Noah’s ark, not everyone is on the ark, and even some people on the ark aren’t well protected from “floods and storms” that might come their way. Getting a flu vaccination helps each person and promotes health among members of a community. Providing health insurance to all, in whatever way we can, also offers benefit not only each individual or family, but all people in a community or nation. The ark was a place where a remnant of humanity, Noah’s family, was saved because Noah was “righteous in his time.” Hopefully, we believe that everyone deserves to have the support, protection and peace of mind that comes from the availability and affordability of good health care.
Health care providers, the insurance industry, concerned citizens and legislators are working out the details of what our health insurance “ark” might look like. There are many possible solutions, most of them very costly, but all of them worthy of consideration due to the sense that change is necessary. Let us hope that, when the process is complete, everyone will have a some semblance of a “safe place” on the “ark” that will offer them health and well-being.
Branches of the same tree
October 16, 2009
“This is the written record of the human line from the day God created human beings, making them in the likeness of God, creating them male and female, blessing them, and naming them “Humans” on the day they were created.”
Discussions about this passage, verses 1 and 2 of Chapter 5 of Genesis, and about the creation story in Genesis Chapter 1, often focus on whether or not the biblical account of the creation of humanity is true. Some say that, because it comes from the Bible, it must be true. Others say that because it cannot be scientifically proven, it is not factual and therefore, it is not true. I recently read an excerpt of the new book by Richard Dawkins, The Greatest Show on Earth, which expressed his views on the creationism/evolution debate. In Dawkins’ observations about this ongoing controversy, he stressed over and over that it is more correct to say that many species of animals share a common ancestry than it is to say that one form of life evolved into another.
Dawkins’ comment (unwittingly) echoed the statements of the rabbis about why it is important to think of all humanity as having a common ancestry. In the 2nd Century, Rabbi Akiba asserted that “love your neighbor as yourself” is a fundamental principle of the Torah. His contemporary, Ben Azzai, quoted the verses, above, Genesis Chapter 5, verses 1 and 2, as an even greater principle, because those verses remind us of what holds us all together: that every human being comes from the same lineage. That is essentially true in Judaism, but it is also essentially true in evolution, if we define “lineage” as broadly as possible. We are part of a family tree not only with respect to our relatives, and all of humanity, but all of creation as well. The rabbis’ concluded, based on this realization, that we should treat each other with respect precisely because that we are part of one family, despite any differences we may see. Realizing that the “likeness of God” is in every person (and throughout creation) means that we should see not only God’s reflection in the face of another person, but our own as well. In our attitudes and our actions, may we try to reach out to one another – and to all creation - with kindness and support because of the common ties that truly link us together.
“This is the written record of the human line from the day God created human beings, making them in the likeness of God, creating them male and female, blessing them, and naming them “Humans” on the day they were created.”
Discussions about this passage, verses 1 and 2 of Chapter 5 of Genesis, and about the creation story in Genesis Chapter 1, often focus on whether or not the biblical account of the creation of humanity is true. Some say that, because it comes from the Bible, it must be true. Others say that because it cannot be scientifically proven, it is not factual and therefore, it is not true. I recently read an excerpt of the new book by Richard Dawkins, The Greatest Show on Earth, which expressed his views on the creationism/evolution debate. In Dawkins’ observations about this ongoing controversy, he stressed over and over that it is more correct to say that many species of animals share a common ancestry than it is to say that one form of life evolved into another.
Dawkins’ comment (unwittingly) echoed the statements of the rabbis about why it is important to think of all humanity as having a common ancestry. In the 2nd Century, Rabbi Akiba asserted that “love your neighbor as yourself” is a fundamental principle of the Torah. His contemporary, Ben Azzai, quoted the verses, above, Genesis Chapter 5, verses 1 and 2, as an even greater principle, because those verses remind us of what holds us all together: that every human being comes from the same lineage. That is essentially true in Judaism, but it is also essentially true in evolution, if we define “lineage” as broadly as possible. We are part of a family tree not only with respect to our relatives, and all of humanity, but all of creation as well. The rabbis’ concluded, based on this realization, that we should treat each other with respect precisely because that we are part of one family, despite any differences we may see. Realizing that the “likeness of God” is in every person (and throughout creation) means that we should see not only God’s reflection in the face of another person, but our own as well. In our attitudes and our actions, may we try to reach out to one another – and to all creation - with kindness and support because of the common ties that truly link us together.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Light for our Journey - October 9, 2009
Shabbat Shalom and Chag Samayach!!!!
Tonight, we will end and begin the reading of the Torah as we celebrate Simchat Torah. As I discussed with our 7th Graders and members of the Board this week, the last word of the Torah is YISRAEL (Israel), and the first word is B’RAYSHEET (at the beginning of/in the beginning). If we simply look at the process of reading the Torah as moving forward towards an end point, we start from the creation of the entire earth (as part of the universe) and, throughout the Torah, focus in specifically on one people, from Abraham to Moses and, as we will read in the Torah tonight, to Joshua, who would take up Moses’ mantle of leadership as the Israelites entered Canaan. While the end of the Torah is a sort of “destination,” we know that the celebration of Simchat Torah brings together the end and the beginning of the cycle of reading the Torah, so that we don’t stop even for a moment. We immediately move from the scene of the Israelites about to enter Canaan back to the creation of light. This helps us to regain our perspective on who we are so that we will remember that we are a part of all humanity and all of creation even as we are members of a Jewish community. Perhaps there is another meaning implicit in this immediate beginning of a new year of Torah reading as soon as it ends. As the first declaration of creation is VA-Y’HI OR, “Let there be light,” the Israelites, in the last chapter of Deuteronomy, were about to experience a new beginning as they made for themselves a new home in Canaan, where their accumulated wisdom and the teachings of their heritage, TORAH, would be OR, light, to guide them throughout their history, with many opportunities for renewal in store.
In our own lives, we may find that, even within one particular journey, there are moments that offer new beginnings, when we feel as if there is a special light (enlightenment) that suddenly directs us to a new insight which could cause us to see our path with a fresh outlook. And even when we “return home,” we may not be the same as we were when we left. In the same way, as a community, we celebrated Simchat Torah last year, and the year before. As we celebrate Simchat Torah this year, we should take a moment to recognize that we are in a different place than we were a year ago. While we have come back around to the beginning of the Torah, it may be that we have changed because our experiences over the last year have enabled us to see life in a new light. And so, as we end and begin the cycle of reading the Torah, may the light of wisdom, knowledge, experience, and hope, continue to shine on us as we find ways to begin anew along the journey of the year that is to come.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Tonight, we will end and begin the reading of the Torah as we celebrate Simchat Torah. As I discussed with our 7th Graders and members of the Board this week, the last word of the Torah is YISRAEL (Israel), and the first word is B’RAYSHEET (at the beginning of/in the beginning). If we simply look at the process of reading the Torah as moving forward towards an end point, we start from the creation of the entire earth (as part of the universe) and, throughout the Torah, focus in specifically on one people, from Abraham to Moses and, as we will read in the Torah tonight, to Joshua, who would take up Moses’ mantle of leadership as the Israelites entered Canaan. While the end of the Torah is a sort of “destination,” we know that the celebration of Simchat Torah brings together the end and the beginning of the cycle of reading the Torah, so that we don’t stop even for a moment. We immediately move from the scene of the Israelites about to enter Canaan back to the creation of light. This helps us to regain our perspective on who we are so that we will remember that we are a part of all humanity and all of creation even as we are members of a Jewish community. Perhaps there is another meaning implicit in this immediate beginning of a new year of Torah reading as soon as it ends. As the first declaration of creation is VA-Y’HI OR, “Let there be light,” the Israelites, in the last chapter of Deuteronomy, were about to experience a new beginning as they made for themselves a new home in Canaan, where their accumulated wisdom and the teachings of their heritage, TORAH, would be OR, light, to guide them throughout their history, with many opportunities for renewal in store.
In our own lives, we may find that, even within one particular journey, there are moments that offer new beginnings, when we feel as if there is a special light (enlightenment) that suddenly directs us to a new insight which could cause us to see our path with a fresh outlook. And even when we “return home,” we may not be the same as we were when we left. In the same way, as a community, we celebrated Simchat Torah last year, and the year before. As we celebrate Simchat Torah this year, we should take a moment to recognize that we are in a different place than we were a year ago. While we have come back around to the beginning of the Torah, it may be that we have changed because our experiences over the last year have enabled us to see life in a new light. And so, as we end and begin the cycle of reading the Torah, may the light of wisdom, knowledge, experience, and hope, continue to shine on us as we find ways to begin anew along the journey of the year that is to come.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Singing a Common Song
September 25, 2009
When I went to fill up the gas tank in my very thirsty (yet economical!) Toyota Matrix last night, the last thing I expected was a political discussion with the man behind the counter at the Shell station. Yet, that is just what I got, and it was intriguing. As this man looked at the cover of his copy of USA Today, he was going on about Muammar al-Gaddafi’s address to the United Nations, saying that it was a bitter rehashing of the past that included not even a glimmer of hope for a change of heart or policy. I remarked that the same could be said of Mahmoud Ahmedinijad. Both of those leaders seem to constantly need to reiterate their power and defiance. Contrast their declarations to the coordinated announcement by President Barack Obama, British Prime Minister Gordon Brown and French President Nicolas Sarkozy at the G20 conference in Pittsburgh this morning. They presented a firm and united call for full disclosure of the progress and purposes of the Iranian nuclear development program, rules by which other nations must abide. There is still a desire for discussion and engagement with Iran in that united front, but we are left to wonder how soon it will materialize.
There are times when we need to move beyond narrow concerns to a more global perspective. In the Torah reading for this week in Deuteronomy Chapter 32, Moses expressed his vision for the people in the form of a song. The content of the “Song of Moses” focused on the need for the people to follow God’s direction (which they didn’t at times) and to realize that respect for divine teachings and acknowledging God’s unity and the oneness of humanity must be central to their lives in a way that can bring all people closer together.
There were many songs that were sung at the United Nations this week, and not all of them in harmony. May the dissonance that still persists among the nations give way to a more melodious chorus of voices from around the world, as we realize that, more than ever, we are all in this together and there is still a chance for more understanding and, perhaps, peace.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
When I went to fill up the gas tank in my very thirsty (yet economical!) Toyota Matrix last night, the last thing I expected was a political discussion with the man behind the counter at the Shell station. Yet, that is just what I got, and it was intriguing. As this man looked at the cover of his copy of USA Today, he was going on about Muammar al-Gaddafi’s address to the United Nations, saying that it was a bitter rehashing of the past that included not even a glimmer of hope for a change of heart or policy. I remarked that the same could be said of Mahmoud Ahmedinijad. Both of those leaders seem to constantly need to reiterate their power and defiance. Contrast their declarations to the coordinated announcement by President Barack Obama, British Prime Minister Gordon Brown and French President Nicolas Sarkozy at the G20 conference in Pittsburgh this morning. They presented a firm and united call for full disclosure of the progress and purposes of the Iranian nuclear development program, rules by which other nations must abide. There is still a desire for discussion and engagement with Iran in that united front, but we are left to wonder how soon it will materialize.
There are times when we need to move beyond narrow concerns to a more global perspective. In the Torah reading for this week in Deuteronomy Chapter 32, Moses expressed his vision for the people in the form of a song. The content of the “Song of Moses” focused on the need for the people to follow God’s direction (which they didn’t at times) and to realize that respect for divine teachings and acknowledging God’s unity and the oneness of humanity must be central to their lives in a way that can bring all people closer together.
There were many songs that were sung at the United Nations this week, and not all of them in harmony. May the dissonance that still persists among the nations give way to a more melodious chorus of voices from around the world, as we realize that, more than ever, we are all in this together and there is still a chance for more understanding and, perhaps, peace.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Standing Together - All of us!
September 16, 2009
Shanah Tovah!
We will begin the new year for us, here and now, this week. As we do, we remember our ancestors who worshipped and lived in other lands, and who then found their way to these shores to add a new chapter to their family story.
The Torah envisioned people of all ages and all walks of life standing together before Moses (in words we will read on Yom Kippur morning) as one community, ready to hear teachings that would direct their hearts toward goodness and their actions toward kindness. We will stand together in just this way on these High Holy Days.
It is our time, now, to join as a congregation and community for worship, for unity, for contemplation about how we can bring out the best in ourselves and in each other and touch the human family with the gifts of our minds and hearts. May this year of 5770 be one filled with blessing and peace for all of us!
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Shanah Tovah!
We will begin the new year for us, here and now, this week. As we do, we remember our ancestors who worshipped and lived in other lands, and who then found their way to these shores to add a new chapter to their family story.
The Torah envisioned people of all ages and all walks of life standing together before Moses (in words we will read on Yom Kippur morning) as one community, ready to hear teachings that would direct their hearts toward goodness and their actions toward kindness. We will stand together in just this way on these High Holy Days.
It is our time, now, to join as a congregation and community for worship, for unity, for contemplation about how we can bring out the best in ourselves and in each other and touch the human family with the gifts of our minds and hearts. May this year of 5770 be one filled with blessing and peace for all of us!
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
A Nearly Complete Alphabet of Blessings for 5770
September 2, 2009
We wish you a year filled with…
Acceptance – for people and ideas.
Bravery – to face life’s challenges.
Compassion – for those who need our concern.
Devotion – to our families and/or community and the tasks that are important to us.
Empathy – towards the situations in which others find themselves so that we can be moved to action.
Forgiveness – of others and ourselves so we can move forward.
Growth – in ways we may not even imagine we could change.
Humility – that will remind us of our limits as well as our capabilities.
Inspiration – to soar to new heights.
Justice – that brings balance between people in communities and nations.
Kindness – which can serve as the basis for all we do.
Love – within families, among friends, for humanity, for all creation.
Mercy – that gives others – and ourselves- a chance to right a wrong.
Newness – which will make this year different from every other year.
Opportunity – for work, adventure, exploration and personal quests.
Peace – within ourselves and around the world
Quiet – to feel a sense of Shabbat within us and around us.
Renewal – for our bodies and our souls.
Strength – to live day to day.
Thankfulness – for the gifts we have been given.
Understanding – that can bring people with different viewpoints and beliefs together.
Vitality – that keeps us active in every moment.
Wonder – at the daily miracles that we may not even notice.
Yearning – that leads us always to strive to improve ourselves and our world.
Zestfulness – to live with enthusiasm and spirit!
From our home to yours,
we wish you a happy
and healthy 5770!
Rabbi Larry, Rhonda and Adam Karol
We wish you a year filled with…
Acceptance – for people and ideas.
Bravery – to face life’s challenges.
Compassion – for those who need our concern.
Devotion – to our families and/or community and the tasks that are important to us.
Empathy – towards the situations in which others find themselves so that we can be moved to action.
Forgiveness – of others and ourselves so we can move forward.
Growth – in ways we may not even imagine we could change.
Humility – that will remind us of our limits as well as our capabilities.
Inspiration – to soar to new heights.
Justice – that brings balance between people in communities and nations.
Kindness – which can serve as the basis for all we do.
Love – within families, among friends, for humanity, for all creation.
Mercy – that gives others – and ourselves- a chance to right a wrong.
Newness – which will make this year different from every other year.
Opportunity – for work, adventure, exploration and personal quests.
Peace – within ourselves and around the world
Quiet – to feel a sense of Shabbat within us and around us.
Renewal – for our bodies and our souls.
Strength – to live day to day.
Thankfulness – for the gifts we have been given.
Understanding – that can bring people with different viewpoints and beliefs together.
Vitality – that keeps us active in every moment.
Wonder – at the daily miracles that we may not even notice.
Yearning – that leads us always to strive to improve ourselves and our world.
Zestfulness – to live with enthusiasm and spirit!
From our home to yours,
we wish you a happy
and healthy 5770!
Rabbi Larry, Rhonda and Adam Karol
Remembering those in need and those who help
August 28, 2009
As our nation mourns the death of Senator Edward Kennedy, expressions of friends, family members, and political allies and opponents alike are paying tribute to his special brand of leadership. Foster’s Daily Democrat noted in its August 27 editorial, “Senator Kennedy was someone who could reach across the aisle to Republicans because he was someone to whom opposition members of the Senate would listen, someone for whom they had respect. There are few such people in Congress today.” That editorial also remembered Senator Kennedy’s concern for the most vulnerable members of society: “Senator Kennedy was an advocate for men and women of classes of people who had no advocates. His causes were those of the people — the causes of better and more affordable health care, better educational opportunities for all Americans, and the causes of America's working men and women.”
As I read those words, I was reminded of a central passage in this week’s Torah reading, Ki Teitzei. Deuteronomy Chapter 24 presents standards which directed the Israelites to care for the most vulnerable members of their society, those who had no advocates: “When you reap the harvest in your field and overlook a sheaf in the field, do not turn back to get it; it shall go to the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow-in order that the Eternal your God may bless you in all your undertakings. When you beat down the fruit of your olive trees, do not go over them again; that shall go to the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow. When you gather the grapes of your vineyard, do not pick it over again; that shall go to the stranger, the fatherless, the widow.”
The Torah reading didn’t only say that forgotten sheaves, olives and grapes should be left for those in need, but it also noted that, by leaving leftover and forgotten produce, the people would be blessed in all that they do. In other words, a society that cared about those who had no advocates would bring blessing itself because of the deep sense of concern that would permeate each community and the nation as a whole. Much of Senator Kennedy’s service to the United States, and the legislation that passed due to his efforts, reflected that particular biblical teaching, and it is work that others will continue in their words and deeds. May we and our nation’s leaders continue to learn from Senator Edward Kennedy’s legacy of advocacy and bi-partisanship, approaches that can enable us to strengthen our society and our country.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Finding a Way In - Posting for Reverbnation site
I am currently reading FITTING IN IS OVERRATED: THE SURVIVAL GUIDE FOR ANYONE WHO HAS FELT LIKE AN OUTSIDER, by Leonard Felder. This book is reminding me of the reasons why I began to write songs 40 years ago. While I probably won't be sharing some of those first efforts any time soon, much of what I wrote about in those first lyrics focused on my desire to be a part of a community and to develop close friendships. The community was always there, and I stayed connected even when I felt that I didn't fit in. Even in situations, then and in more recent years, when I felt like an outsider, I realized that I learned something new about myself and how to relate to people from every experience.
In the fall of 1977, I put some of those feelings into a song that had several levels of meaning. It was about being a performer in front of a new audience, but it was also about trying to break into a social circle (and, perhaps, the "dating scene"). I let the song stay as it was for 22 years. In the fall of 1999, in order to "restart" my songwriting (I had been on a 19 year hiatus at that point), I revisited that song about "breaking in" and added a third verse. I felt that I had to take the lyrics to some point of conclusion, which I had not done before - that it IS possible to find one's way into a community through persistence, patience and personal honesty. "Let Me Sing My Way Into Your Night" is the first track on my CD, "A New Beginning." I can remember the joy I felt recording that song in a studio in 2004, singing words that I had written so long before along with the further expressions of hope that concluded the song. This song still is my most prized personal statement about the hard work of becoming and remaining connected to a community.
In the fall of 1977, I put some of those feelings into a song that had several levels of meaning. It was about being a performer in front of a new audience, but it was also about trying to break into a social circle (and, perhaps, the "dating scene"). I let the song stay as it was for 22 years. In the fall of 1999, in order to "restart" my songwriting (I had been on a 19 year hiatus at that point), I revisited that song about "breaking in" and added a third verse. I felt that I had to take the lyrics to some point of conclusion, which I had not done before - that it IS possible to find one's way into a community through persistence, patience and personal honesty. "Let Me Sing My Way Into Your Night" is the first track on my CD, "A New Beginning." I can remember the joy I felt recording that song in a studio in 2004, singing words that I had written so long before along with the further expressions of hope that concluded the song. This song still is my most prized personal statement about the hard work of becoming and remaining connected to a community.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Our Very Own Torah August 21, 2009
Shabbat Shalom!
If we were to write our own personal Torah, what would be in it? What rules would it contain? The Torah reading for this week directed the kings that would rule over the Israelites to have the priests write out a new copy of the original Torah/Teaching for them. They were instructed further, “Let it (the Torah) remain with him and let him read it all his life, so that he may learn to revere the Eternal God, to observe faithfully every word of this teaching as well as these laws. Thus he will not act haughtily toward his fellows.”
Leaders who are charged with enforcing and strengthening the laws we live by should study those rules in order to understand their simple meaning as well as various ways they can be interpreted. We who are not in a political position of leadership have a similar responsibility to understand laws that govern our lives and, more important, to consider how our own sense of Torah/Teaching/Morality can enhance community life. Often, that sense of what is right and wrong in human society comes back to a sense of justice, fairness and impartiality. Acting haughtily, whether it means believing oneself to be above the law or above other people in some way, can prevent a leader or a citizen from making a positive contribution to the present and future of any society or country. May our own personal Torah, whatever it may contain, guide us along a path of justice, righteousness and peace.
L'shalom,
Rabbi Larry
If we were to write our own personal Torah, what would be in it? What rules would it contain? The Torah reading for this week directed the kings that would rule over the Israelites to have the priests write out a new copy of the original Torah/Teaching for them. They were instructed further, “Let it (the Torah) remain with him and let him read it all his life, so that he may learn to revere the Eternal God, to observe faithfully every word of this teaching as well as these laws. Thus he will not act haughtily toward his fellows.”
Leaders who are charged with enforcing and strengthening the laws we live by should study those rules in order to understand their simple meaning as well as various ways they can be interpreted. We who are not in a political position of leadership have a similar responsibility to understand laws that govern our lives and, more important, to consider how our own sense of Torah/Teaching/Morality can enhance community life. Often, that sense of what is right and wrong in human society comes back to a sense of justice, fairness and impartiality. Acting haughtily, whether it means believing oneself to be above the law or above other people in some way, can prevent a leader or a citizen from making a positive contribution to the present and future of any society or country. May our own personal Torah, whatever it may contain, guide us along a path of justice, righteousness and peace.
L'shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Friday, August 14, 2009
Blessing through Speech - and Freedom August 14, 2009
Shabbat Shalom!
When will a national discussion on a serious issue not turn into a battle of good and evil? This is the question that remains in my mind as the discourse on health care legislation turns towards the extremes. Name-calling and distortion of facts will not bring the best solution to this challenge of offering Americans affordable health insurance. There may be good reasons for citizens to be anxious, and even angry, at this time of economic downturn. Nevertheless, posters that add a Hitlerian moustache to a photograph of President Barack Obama and other comparisons to Nazi Germany are not going to bring our country closer to a workable compromise on this issue. Such expressions could prevent the civil conversation we need that will allow decisions to be made based on listening with intelligence and compassion to real-life concerns.
The beginning of this week’s Torah reading, R’eih, noted that after the Israelites entered the land of Canaan, they were called upon to engage in a ritual of declaring the blessings that would come to the people if they followed divine teachings, and the curses that would befall them if they went astray from the path that Moses had taught them. It was not as much about punishment as it was about remaining on a path that would keep the community together, even at times of internal disagreement. Caring about each other as members of a holy community was their primary concern.
Some voices that came to the surface over the last week called for a “return to the Constitution and what our nation’s founders intended.” The founders of our nation set us on a path that they hoped would lead us to engage in a lively, perhaps vociferous, yet ultimately civil debate on the most controversial issues we face. The rhetoric of conflicting opinions has, at times, divided our country. We know, however, that even when we are not of the same mind, we can still join together to declare that our freedom to say what we think is a blessing, not a curse. Let us remember that listening to the views of others, along with speaking our own mind, is an integral part of that blessing of freedom that we have inherited and that we are now called upon to preserve. May the concern for the common good that many people share in our country – and throughout the world – prevail for us now and in the future.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
When will a national discussion on a serious issue not turn into a battle of good and evil? This is the question that remains in my mind as the discourse on health care legislation turns towards the extremes. Name-calling and distortion of facts will not bring the best solution to this challenge of offering Americans affordable health insurance. There may be good reasons for citizens to be anxious, and even angry, at this time of economic downturn. Nevertheless, posters that add a Hitlerian moustache to a photograph of President Barack Obama and other comparisons to Nazi Germany are not going to bring our country closer to a workable compromise on this issue. Such expressions could prevent the civil conversation we need that will allow decisions to be made based on listening with intelligence and compassion to real-life concerns.
The beginning of this week’s Torah reading, R’eih, noted that after the Israelites entered the land of Canaan, they were called upon to engage in a ritual of declaring the blessings that would come to the people if they followed divine teachings, and the curses that would befall them if they went astray from the path that Moses had taught them. It was not as much about punishment as it was about remaining on a path that would keep the community together, even at times of internal disagreement. Caring about each other as members of a holy community was their primary concern.
Some voices that came to the surface over the last week called for a “return to the Constitution and what our nation’s founders intended.” The founders of our nation set us on a path that they hoped would lead us to engage in a lively, perhaps vociferous, yet ultimately civil debate on the most controversial issues we face. The rhetoric of conflicting opinions has, at times, divided our country. We know, however, that even when we are not of the same mind, we can still join together to declare that our freedom to say what we think is a blessing, not a curse. Let us remember that listening to the views of others, along with speaking our own mind, is an integral part of that blessing of freedom that we have inherited and that we are now called upon to preserve. May the concern for the common good that many people share in our country – and throughout the world – prevail for us now and in the future.
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Friday, August 7, 2009
Beyond Blessings: Gratitude August 7, 2009
Shabbat Shalom!
Whether we realize it or not, there are always aspects of our lives which we could consider blessings for which we can be grateful. When I asked the campers in my mini-course at Crane Lake Camp about the blessings in their lives, these 8th-10th graders listed family, health, education, community, friends, a personal sense of morality, a home, food, freedom, books and love. Each of us should take a moment every day to create such a blessings list, at least in our minds (if not on paper), to reiterate the reasons we have to be thankful.
The Torah portion for this week, Ekev, includes a passage in Deuteronomy Chapter 8 that encourages us to be thankful for the blessings we enjoy: “The Eternal God is bringing you into a good land, a land with streams and springs and fountains issuing from plain to hill; a land of wheat and barley, of vines, figs, and pomegranates, a land of olive trees and honey; a land where you may eat food without stint, where you will lack nothing. . . .When you have eaten your fill, give thanks to the Eternal your God for the good land given you.”
At the Temple Board meeting this past Wednesday, I asked our congregational leaders what they consider to be the blessings given to our community and how we can offer thanks for those blessings. Among the blessings they noted were friendships, music, a community in which we can all grow, programs we offer, the beautiful land on which Temple sits, children, opportunities for study with peers and colleagues, and social activities. Our Board members felt that we can show gratitude for these blessings through contributing to the community in some way, tzedakah/righteous giving, participation, volunteering, and bringing other people into our Temple circle.
I am sure you could add to this list that begins to express our essence as a congregation, but each of us can begin by expressing gratitude in a personal way. May we each find blessings around us and give thanks for them every day of our lives!
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Ex nihilo - Reverbnation/Larry Karol August 1, 2009
Sometimes songwriting feels like it happens out of nothing - "ex nihilo." It really doesn't work that way, at least I don't think so. I had the experience while on faculty at Crane Lake camp (a Reform Jewish Camp in West Stockbridge, MA) for two weeks (July 12-26, 2009) of writing three songs (actually four, but I wasn't at all satisfied with one of them). Every experience was different.
The first song emerged from my desire to write my own song based on some of the customary Jewish bedtime prayers. I looked in prayerbooks I had brought with me to camp for ideas from English renderings and interpretations of an evening prayer about God's protection at night (called Hashkivenu). That gave me ideas for verse lyrics, and I knew that the chorus would come from the last stanza of the "hymn" Adon Olam - the words in English are: "Into God's hand I charge/entrust my spirit when I sleep and when I wake, and with my soul, my body, too, God is with me, I shall not be afraid." That song came from working with the English and Hebrew lyrics and adjusting the melody so that it would be unique among the songs I have written.
The second song came from a mini-course I taught 8th through 10th grade campers called "God's on my iPod." I had collected 25 popular/secular songs that related to God and hoped the campers would find songs on their personal music players. On the first day of each week-long series of the course, I asked the campers to complete the sentence, "God is...." and to come up with a question that could be asked of God if God could answer. The responses came back all across the spectrum of belief - from a very traditional view of an all-powerful, all-knowing God to uncertainty about God's existence. The music had to go for the middle of that continuum, so I settled for Cm as my key and strung the campers' comments together and added some thoughts of my own for the verses and chorus.
The third song was a second try at summarizing the comments from the campers who took my course during my second week at camp. This was harder to do - a song that was very "forced" came out initially, but, even then, I knew I wanted to link the students' comments to a blessing in Judaism that praises God for making the works of creation. On the next-to-last day of the 2nd week, when I couldn't get the campers to respond to questions about songs I was playing on my iPod, I asked them to write lyrics that they thought belonged in a song about God. I started reviewing those responses and their "God is...." statements to write a new song that night, but nothing came to me to get a new song going. I went to sleep, and woke up the next morning with a melody for the "works of creation" blessing in my head - that tune came out of nowhere (or else I was just working it out in my head when I was asleep). I immediately wrote out two verses and the chorus quickly and got it printed out. I played for the campers "live" the first song I had written from week #1 of the course, and then showed them this new song that included their comments. I asked them to help me write a "bridge." We came up with a statement about being a community even with our diversity. The song was mostly done, and after a few tweaks on the bridge lyrics and a tempo change the next day, the song was really finished.
Writing even one song during my two weeks at camp would have been enough. I am VERY grateful for three!
The first song emerged from my desire to write my own song based on some of the customary Jewish bedtime prayers. I looked in prayerbooks I had brought with me to camp for ideas from English renderings and interpretations of an evening prayer about God's protection at night (called Hashkivenu). That gave me ideas for verse lyrics, and I knew that the chorus would come from the last stanza of the "hymn" Adon Olam - the words in English are: "Into God's hand I charge/entrust my spirit when I sleep and when I wake, and with my soul, my body, too, God is with me, I shall not be afraid." That song came from working with the English and Hebrew lyrics and adjusting the melody so that it would be unique among the songs I have written.
The second song came from a mini-course I taught 8th through 10th grade campers called "God's on my iPod." I had collected 25 popular/secular songs that related to God and hoped the campers would find songs on their personal music players. On the first day of each week-long series of the course, I asked the campers to complete the sentence, "God is...." and to come up with a question that could be asked of God if God could answer. The responses came back all across the spectrum of belief - from a very traditional view of an all-powerful, all-knowing God to uncertainty about God's existence. The music had to go for the middle of that continuum, so I settled for Cm as my key and strung the campers' comments together and added some thoughts of my own for the verses and chorus.
The third song was a second try at summarizing the comments from the campers who took my course during my second week at camp. This was harder to do - a song that was very "forced" came out initially, but, even then, I knew I wanted to link the students' comments to a blessing in Judaism that praises God for making the works of creation. On the next-to-last day of the 2nd week, when I couldn't get the campers to respond to questions about songs I was playing on my iPod, I asked them to write lyrics that they thought belonged in a song about God. I started reviewing those responses and their "God is...." statements to write a new song that night, but nothing came to me to get a new song going. I went to sleep, and woke up the next morning with a melody for the "works of creation" blessing in my head - that tune came out of nowhere (or else I was just working it out in my head when I was asleep). I immediately wrote out two verses and the chorus quickly and got it printed out. I played for the campers "live" the first song I had written from week #1 of the course, and then showed them this new song that included their comments. I asked them to help me write a "bridge." We came up with a statement about being a community even with our diversity. The song was mostly done, and after a few tweaks on the bridge lyrics and a tempo change the next day, the song was really finished.
Writing even one song during my two weeks at camp would have been enough. I am VERY grateful for three!
Moving Forward - Post on Reverbnation/Larry Karol
June 30, 2009
I am currently recovering from surgery (ear) and still marveling that I can continue to hear just enough to listen to music and, also, to make music. Even while being a bit stereophonically challenged, I am amazed at how music is still such a significant expression of thought and emotion. Today, I have to write an article for my Temple newsletter, but I know that the song I wrote this past Sunday, based on a text from Psalm 90 (designated as a healing Psalm by some rabbis in Jewish tradition), has even greater power. As I considered the Psalm, which spoke about rising up in the morning with a feeling of being enveloped with joy and kindness, I thought about the people throughout the world whose voices are calling for justice and are not being heard, and people who are mourning individuals - beyond celebrity icons - whose lives were taken too soon, where the meaning of those lives may not even really be known until much later. I hope to post this song in the next few days on the reverbnation player.
I am currently recovering from surgery (ear) and still marveling that I can continue to hear just enough to listen to music and, also, to make music. Even while being a bit stereophonically challenged, I am amazed at how music is still such a significant expression of thought and emotion. Today, I have to write an article for my Temple newsletter, but I know that the song I wrote this past Sunday, based on a text from Psalm 90 (designated as a healing Psalm by some rabbis in Jewish tradition), has even greater power. As I considered the Psalm, which spoke about rising up in the morning with a feeling of being enveloped with joy and kindness, I thought about the people throughout the world whose voices are calling for justice and are not being heard, and people who are mourning individuals - beyond celebrity icons - whose lives were taken too soon, where the meaning of those lives may not even really be known until much later. I hope to post this song in the next few days on the reverbnation player.
Starting Out - Post on Reverbnation/LarryKarol
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| I think it's time to get a blog started here. I write a lot in my "day job" (rabbi at Temple Israel in Dover, NH) but music is just as much an important expression for me - listening, singing, and writing. The songs come when I have something to say or when a text that I am reading or studying moves me to make a musical commentary - or, sometimes, even the news in the world seems to call out for a response. I hope to always find time to do this. With many of my songs recorded only on Garageband on my laptop (my last four years of songwriting, following the creation of the songs on my two studio CDs), I hope to share that music in some way, even if it's just with those mp3s from my computer. Two of the "garageband" songs are already up on this site for listening. Having just watched the "Thriller" video on television this morning, I am thinking about Michael Jackson's many contributions to the music and entertainment world, but the words especially from "Man in the Mirror" stick out in my mind as a message for everyone - to start with change in ourselves in order to change the world. I am also intrigued by the return of one of my favorite songwriters, Cat Stevens/Yusuf Islam, to creating music that speaks to everyone. His sense of meaning and humor were well demonstrated during his BBC Radio 2 concert on June 3 and on his new album, Roadsinger. I hope to find venues to share my music in the near future in the Jewish community context but in other arenas as well. I appreciate all those who have encouraged me throughout the years and hope to find more teachers and colleagues to guide me along my continuing musical journey. |
What I learn about community at Crane Lake Camp
For the Temple Israel Dover Kesher Newsletter for August, 2009
• The natural setting at camp builds community by reminding everyone that they are, individually and together, a part of creation.This realization has the potential to enhance worship, study and all programming.
• A sense of community is strengthened by active participation by group members based in personal motivation, a desire to immerse oneself in a culture or tradition, or a hope to get out of an experience as much benefit as can possibly be gained.
• Campers see Jewish values through their own stories. When they are at camp, their own narratives about how they started friendships, overcame being homesick, helped one of their peers in a significant way, and chose to return to camp each year are very powerful and meaningful. Our own stories about how we see ourselves as part of a community are just as important and poignant.
• Every member of the community—campers, unit heads, specialists, counselors and support staff - has something significant to offer to the well-being of the camp.
• Services and song sessions are lively and spirited when leaders and participants are willing partners in preserving familiar words and music from the past and welcoming new presentations and expressions of those same texts and values.
• There is a Jewish way to be a member of a community based on universal principles stated in Jewish texts. People of all ages know that teachings like “love your neighbor as yourself” (Leviticus) and “what is hateful to you, don’t do to someone else” (Hillel) stress the value of consideration that should permeate all behavior and serve as a basis for resolving conflicts.
• The presence in one place of members of two or three generations allows for a broadening of experiences, noting differences and similarities between
• the past and present. Teaching my “God on my iPod” mini-course allowed me to learn new music while I discovered how much of “my music” was familiar to the campers. Teaching guitar each day gave me the chance, one day, to play and sing Beatles songs with a talented 8 year-old camper!
• A sense of being a part of one community can continue, even when you arenot physically present with members of that group, through telephone conversations, letters, emails and social networking on the internet.
• Creating community is a sacred task, defining space, time, and memories as special, unique and holy unto themselves.
• Most, if not all, of the aspects of community in camp can, in some way, be a part of congregational life. Let us see what we can do at Temple Israel to engender a sense of being part of a holy community together!
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
• The natural setting at camp builds community by reminding everyone that they are, individually and together, a part of creation.This realization has the potential to enhance worship, study and all programming.
• A sense of community is strengthened by active participation by group members based in personal motivation, a desire to immerse oneself in a culture or tradition, or a hope to get out of an experience as much benefit as can possibly be gained.
• Campers see Jewish values through their own stories. When they are at camp, their own narratives about how they started friendships, overcame being homesick, helped one of their peers in a significant way, and chose to return to camp each year are very powerful and meaningful. Our own stories about how we see ourselves as part of a community are just as important and poignant.
• Every member of the community—campers, unit heads, specialists, counselors and support staff - has something significant to offer to the well-being of the camp.
• Services and song sessions are lively and spirited when leaders and participants are willing partners in preserving familiar words and music from the past and welcoming new presentations and expressions of those same texts and values.
• There is a Jewish way to be a member of a community based on universal principles stated in Jewish texts. People of all ages know that teachings like “love your neighbor as yourself” (Leviticus) and “what is hateful to you, don’t do to someone else” (Hillel) stress the value of consideration that should permeate all behavior and serve as a basis for resolving conflicts.
• The presence in one place of members of two or three generations allows for a broadening of experiences, noting differences and similarities between
• the past and present. Teaching my “God on my iPod” mini-course allowed me to learn new music while I discovered how much of “my music” was familiar to the campers. Teaching guitar each day gave me the chance, one day, to play and sing Beatles songs with a talented 8 year-old camper!
• A sense of being a part of one community can continue, even when you arenot physically present with members of that group, through telephone conversations, letters, emails and social networking on the internet.
• Creating community is a sacred task, defining space, time, and memories as special, unique and holy unto themselves.
• Most, if not all, of the aspects of community in camp can, in some way, be a part of congregational life. Let us see what we can do at Temple Israel to engender a sense of being part of a holy community together!
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
These verbs shall be in your heart...Parashat Va'etchanan
July 30, 2009
An early Shabbat Shalom!
I will be chanting the V'ahavta when I read Torah tomorrow night - this familiar passage, which immediately follows the declaration of one God, the Shema, in Deuteronomy Chapter 6, is marked with verbs that challenge us to express what we think and believe through words and action.
The verbs in the this section are…
V'ahavta (LOVE)
V'shinantam (TEACH/REPEAT THEM)
V'dibarta (SPEAK)
U-k'shartam (BIND THEM)
Uch-tavtam (WRITE/INSCRIBE THEM)
Taken together, these words direct us to create close and trusting relationships, to share our values with each other and to a new generation, to hold fast to the principles we live by and to educate others by our example. The V'ahavta paragraph can serve as a curriculum guide for successfully passing on a heritage to a new generation, but it is also about taking on this task as one community. May the values that we practice and teach leave an imprint on us, and may what we do inscribe those lessons on one another's hearts.
L'shalom,
Rabbi Larry
An early Shabbat Shalom!
I will be chanting the V'ahavta when I read Torah tomorrow night - this familiar passage, which immediately follows the declaration of one God, the Shema, in Deuteronomy Chapter 6, is marked with verbs that challenge us to express what we think and believe through words and action.
The verbs in the this section are…
V'ahavta (LOVE)
V'shinantam (TEACH/REPEAT THEM)
V'dibarta (SPEAK)
U-k'shartam (BIND THEM)
Uch-tavtam (WRITE/INSCRIBE THEM)
Taken together, these words direct us to create close and trusting relationships, to share our values with each other and to a new generation, to hold fast to the principles we live by and to educate others by our example. The V'ahavta paragraph can serve as a curriculum guide for successfully passing on a heritage to a new generation, but it is also about taking on this task as one community. May the values that we practice and teach leave an imprint on us, and may what we do inscribe those lessons on one another's hearts.
L'shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Overcoming Hatred - For Tish'ah B'av
July 29, 2009
Tonight begins Tish'ah B'av (the Ninth day of the Hebrew month of Av), the anniversary of the destruction of the First and Second Temples in Jerusalem. This day is observed as a time of fasting and mourning in the Jewish tradition. Reform Judaism, at first, did not support the idea of mourning for the Temple because there was no expectation for that ancient center of worship to be rebuilt. As the decades passed, commemorations of Tish'ah B'av began to find their way into Reform congregations and, given the time of this July-or-August observance, summer camps.
This coming Friday night, July 31, I will begin the service with a brief reading from the Lamentations, the biblical book assigned to this holiday because of its expressions of despair and sadness over the loss of the first Temple in Jerusalem in 586 BCE. In response to the Roman's destruction of the Second Temple in the year 70, the rabbis said, in retrospect, “The second Temple was destroyed because of one reason: baseless hatred (sinat chinam).” The fact that the Jews of Judea could not overcome bitter disagreements and unite behind one banner in their approach towards the Roman authorities led to that great tragedy of their time.
Baseless hatred is certainly still with us. It emerges when someone believes that he or she is absolutely correct and that there is absolutely no other view on a particular that could bear some truth, and no compromise is possible. We see such hatred in the breakdown of relations between people in neighboring countries, between adherents of different religions or various branches of one faith group, and between members of different political parties in the same country that assert that only the policies for which they advocate are right.
The observance of Tish'ah B'av offers us a reminder of how interpersonal and ideological conflict can lead to catastrophe, but how, even in the face of such challenges, we can learn lessons from the past and try to strengthen the common bonds that transcend our differences. May we hold on to the hope that we can find such unity even in our diversity.
L'shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Tonight begins Tish'ah B'av (the Ninth day of the Hebrew month of Av), the anniversary of the destruction of the First and Second Temples in Jerusalem. This day is observed as a time of fasting and mourning in the Jewish tradition. Reform Judaism, at first, did not support the idea of mourning for the Temple because there was no expectation for that ancient center of worship to be rebuilt. As the decades passed, commemorations of Tish'ah B'av began to find their way into Reform congregations and, given the time of this July-or-August observance, summer camps.
This coming Friday night, July 31, I will begin the service with a brief reading from the Lamentations, the biblical book assigned to this holiday because of its expressions of despair and sadness over the loss of the first Temple in Jerusalem in 586 BCE. In response to the Roman's destruction of the Second Temple in the year 70, the rabbis said, in retrospect, “The second Temple was destroyed because of one reason: baseless hatred (sinat chinam).” The fact that the Jews of Judea could not overcome bitter disagreements and unite behind one banner in their approach towards the Roman authorities led to that great tragedy of their time.
Baseless hatred is certainly still with us. It emerges when someone believes that he or she is absolutely correct and that there is absolutely no other view on a particular that could bear some truth, and no compromise is possible. We see such hatred in the breakdown of relations between people in neighboring countries, between adherents of different religions or various branches of one faith group, and between members of different political parties in the same country that assert that only the policies for which they advocate are right.
The observance of Tish'ah B'av offers us a reminder of how interpersonal and ideological conflict can lead to catastrophe, but how, even in the face of such challenges, we can learn lessons from the past and try to strengthen the common bonds that transcend our differences. May we hold on to the hope that we can find such unity even in our diversity.
L'shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Step by Step
July 17, 2009
Shabbat Shalom from Crane Lake Camp!
One of the aspects of my annual service on the faculty of the Union for Reform Judaism's Crane Lake Camp in West Stockbridge, Massachusetts is that every day is an adventure unto itself! There are triumphs and challenges that I can see for myself in my own teaching and interactions with the campers, and I see the campers going through their own version of that experience as they live in this community with peers, counselors and other staff who are here to help them get the most out of being here. We may look at our “normal routines” at home, at school or at work in the same way - we might not divide our time by individual days, but we might come to see each week as a journey, where the weekend and Shabbat offer a well-deserved destination for rest.
The Torah reading for this week, Matot-Mas'ei, features Moses' recounting of the Israelites' journeys from Egypt to the boundary of Canaan, the land that they were poised to enter. Moses could have recalled the wanderings of the people by saying, “We set out from location A, went to location B, then C, and then D.” Or he could have only said, “Our journey began in Rameses in Egypt and ended in the steppes of Moab, at the Jordan near Jericho.” Yet, instead of listing just the separate destinations or only the final one, Moses repeated the starting points and the places where the Israelites set up camp. He said, “The Israelites set out from point A and encamped at point B. They set out from point B and encamped at point C.” Every starting point and every place of encampment had equal importance. No spot - or event - along the journey was insignificant. All of those places - and experiences - combined to form the totality of the Israelite journey from Egypt to Canaan.
All of our experiences, day-by-day or week-by-week, combine to form the story of our life's journey. Every moment has the potential to add something special and significant to our own personal itinerary and narrative, helping us to discover who we are and who we can be. May the lessons we learn from the moments of our lives guide us on a path that will bring us hope, promise, and blessing.
L'shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Shabbat Shalom from Crane Lake Camp!
One of the aspects of my annual service on the faculty of the Union for Reform Judaism's Crane Lake Camp in West Stockbridge, Massachusetts is that every day is an adventure unto itself! There are triumphs and challenges that I can see for myself in my own teaching and interactions with the campers, and I see the campers going through their own version of that experience as they live in this community with peers, counselors and other staff who are here to help them get the most out of being here. We may look at our “normal routines” at home, at school or at work in the same way - we might not divide our time by individual days, but we might come to see each week as a journey, where the weekend and Shabbat offer a well-deserved destination for rest.
The Torah reading for this week, Matot-Mas'ei, features Moses' recounting of the Israelites' journeys from Egypt to the boundary of Canaan, the land that they were poised to enter. Moses could have recalled the wanderings of the people by saying, “We set out from location A, went to location B, then C, and then D.” Or he could have only said, “Our journey began in Rameses in Egypt and ended in the steppes of Moab, at the Jordan near Jericho.” Yet, instead of listing just the separate destinations or only the final one, Moses repeated the starting points and the places where the Israelites set up camp. He said, “The Israelites set out from point A and encamped at point B. They set out from point B and encamped at point C.” Every starting point and every place of encampment had equal importance. No spot - or event - along the journey was insignificant. All of those places - and experiences - combined to form the totality of the Israelite journey from Egypt to Canaan.
All of our experiences, day-by-day or week-by-week, combine to form the story of our life's journey. Every moment has the potential to add something special and significant to our own personal itinerary and narrative, helping us to discover who we are and who we can be. May the lessons we learn from the moments of our lives guide us on a path that will bring us hope, promise, and blessing.
L'shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Friday, July 10, 2009
Parashat Pinchas - July 10, 2009 - A Quiet Revolution
Shabbat Shalom!
In our state, around the country, and across the world, we can think of many examples of people seeking to expand their rights in one way or another. Such an expansion requires change, and, as we know, change doesn’t always come easy to a community or even to one person. The push for change and, hopefully, progress, might take the form of reasonable discussion leading to a new realization of what must be done through legislation or, even better (and more difficult), through adopting a new perspective and attitude. Sometimes, as we well know, change only comes after the creation of a movement that could involve peaceful demonstrations, violent protest, or many modes of expression in between.
In the Torah reading for this Shabbat, the daughters of a man named Zelophehad went before Moses to ask for their rights of inheritance after their father had died. In most societies in the ancient Near East, women had no rights of inheritance. If there were no sons, all property and possessions (and wealth) would pass to other relatives. In that context, this request was revolutionary in its own way: “Our father died in the wilderness…he has left no sons. Let not our father’s name be lost to his clan just because he had no son! Give us a holding among our father’s kinsmen!”
The daughters of Zelophehad could have encountered outright rejection or a temporary rebuff at that moment. The passage in Numbers Chapter 27 states that “Moses took their case before the Eternal” (whether that represented direct communication with a divine voice, subtle inspiration or a process of pondering morally and spiritually). The answer came to Moses: “The plea of Zelophehad’s daughters is just: you should give them a hereditary holding among their father’s kinsmen: transfer their father’s share to them.”
There are situations that arise that may not have been considered when creating the rules that govern a community or a nation. Changing those rules may not come as readily in every case as it did for the daughters of Zelophehad. It is, however, always important to raise the possibility of greater consideration among group members or citizens that might bring about a new approach to community based on a broader vision. Taking that first step down the path towards change is crucial for the growth of society and the human spirit!
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
In our state, around the country, and across the world, we can think of many examples of people seeking to expand their rights in one way or another. Such an expansion requires change, and, as we know, change doesn’t always come easy to a community or even to one person. The push for change and, hopefully, progress, might take the form of reasonable discussion leading to a new realization of what must be done through legislation or, even better (and more difficult), through adopting a new perspective and attitude. Sometimes, as we well know, change only comes after the creation of a movement that could involve peaceful demonstrations, violent protest, or many modes of expression in between.
In the Torah reading for this Shabbat, the daughters of a man named Zelophehad went before Moses to ask for their rights of inheritance after their father had died. In most societies in the ancient Near East, women had no rights of inheritance. If there were no sons, all property and possessions (and wealth) would pass to other relatives. In that context, this request was revolutionary in its own way: “Our father died in the wilderness…he has left no sons. Let not our father’s name be lost to his clan just because he had no son! Give us a holding among our father’s kinsmen!”
The daughters of Zelophehad could have encountered outright rejection or a temporary rebuff at that moment. The passage in Numbers Chapter 27 states that “Moses took their case before the Eternal” (whether that represented direct communication with a divine voice, subtle inspiration or a process of pondering morally and spiritually). The answer came to Moses: “The plea of Zelophehad’s daughters is just: you should give them a hereditary holding among their father’s kinsmen: transfer their father’s share to them.”
There are situations that arise that may not have been considered when creating the rules that govern a community or a nation. Changing those rules may not come as readily in every case as it did for the daughters of Zelophehad. It is, however, always important to raise the possibility of greater consideration among group members or citizens that might bring about a new approach to community based on a broader vision. Taking that first step down the path towards change is crucial for the growth of society and the human spirit!
L’shalom,
Rabbi Larry
Friday, July 3, 2009
Number our Days
The Rabbi’s Study - Temple Israel of Dover, NH Kesher Newsletter July, 2009
Number our Days
Psalm 90:12
• Teach us to count our days rightly, that we may obtain a wise heart. (The Writings,Jewish Publication Society, 1982)
• Teach us to use all of our days, that we may attain a heart of wisdom. (The
• Book of Psalms, Gershon Hadas, 1964)
• So teach us to number our days, that we may get us a heart of wisdom. (Healing Psalms, Rabbi Joshua O. Haberman, 2003)
• Make known to us the best way to count our days so that we may develop hearts of wisdom. (Our Haven and Our Strength: The Book of Psalms, translation by Martin Samuel Cohen, 2004)
• To count our days rightly, instruct, that we may get a heart of wisdom. (The Book of Psalms, Robert Alter, 2007)
• Teach us how short our time is; let us know it in the depthsof our souls. (A Book of Psalms, Stephen Mitchell,1993).
It may be that one translation would have been enough to make the point of this often-quoted verse from Psalm 90. I wonder, however, if we sometimes forget its message. There have been many events in recent days that remind us of life’s fragility and finality. It didn’t take the death of Farah Fawcett, Michael Jackson, or the victims of recent accidents in the air to remind us that our lives can potentially go on for many years, but that there is a point when our time comes to an end. The Psalm itself, in the declarations leading up to verse 12, speaks of how everything comes into being and then passes, and that much of what we do is all too focused on excessive pride, choices we make that we might eventually regret, and disappointments that we have experienced or may yet see in our lives. What I believe this Psalm is telling us is to savor every moment and to consider the GOOD that we can do every day, to take our focus off of ourselves, and to consider the divine perspective which takes all of humanity and all of creation into account. Martin Samuel Cohen, in his commentary on Psalm 90, suggests that this Psalm intentionally juxtaposes the short span of ourlives with God’s timelessness. Yet, we can taste what is timeless in any moment when we do something godly. Share a kind word or a special moment in your life in a generous way. Consider someone else’s feelings. As my mom would tell me when I was not feeling well (and I hear her voice now a week after surgery), “Stop thinking about yourself—think about someone else.” At Temple Israel, we have many challenges to face together, and we will be able to do our best at meeting those challenges if we think about someone else—in this case, about each other, about how we can work together. Let’s begin
now, today, to count our days as members of a community so that we will share
in a heart of wisdom!
Number our Days
Psalm 90:12
• Teach us to count our days rightly, that we may obtain a wise heart. (The Writings,Jewish Publication Society, 1982)
• Teach us to use all of our days, that we may attain a heart of wisdom. (The
• Book of Psalms, Gershon Hadas, 1964)
• So teach us to number our days, that we may get us a heart of wisdom. (Healing Psalms, Rabbi Joshua O. Haberman, 2003)
• Make known to us the best way to count our days so that we may develop hearts of wisdom. (Our Haven and Our Strength: The Book of Psalms, translation by Martin Samuel Cohen, 2004)
• To count our days rightly, instruct, that we may get a heart of wisdom. (The Book of Psalms, Robert Alter, 2007)
• Teach us how short our time is; let us know it in the depthsof our souls. (A Book of Psalms, Stephen Mitchell,1993).
It may be that one translation would have been enough to make the point of this often-quoted verse from Psalm 90. I wonder, however, if we sometimes forget its message. There have been many events in recent days that remind us of life’s fragility and finality. It didn’t take the death of Farah Fawcett, Michael Jackson, or the victims of recent accidents in the air to remind us that our lives can potentially go on for many years, but that there is a point when our time comes to an end. The Psalm itself, in the declarations leading up to verse 12, speaks of how everything comes into being and then passes, and that much of what we do is all too focused on excessive pride, choices we make that we might eventually regret, and disappointments that we have experienced or may yet see in our lives. What I believe this Psalm is telling us is to savor every moment and to consider the GOOD that we can do every day, to take our focus off of ourselves, and to consider the divine perspective which takes all of humanity and all of creation into account. Martin Samuel Cohen, in his commentary on Psalm 90, suggests that this Psalm intentionally juxtaposes the short span of ourlives with God’s timelessness. Yet, we can taste what is timeless in any moment when we do something godly. Share a kind word or a special moment in your life in a generous way. Consider someone else’s feelings. As my mom would tell me when I was not feeling well (and I hear her voice now a week after surgery), “Stop thinking about yourself—think about someone else.” At Temple Israel, we have many challenges to face together, and we will be able to do our best at meeting those challenges if we think about someone else—in this case, about each other, about how we can work together. Let’s begin
now, today, to count our days as members of a community so that we will share
in a heart of wisdom!
Temple Israel Dover Torah Commentary - Balak - July 3, 2009
How do we create a positive image for ourselves about our character? Self-esteem is a possibility for anyone to maintain on their own and with encouragement and affirmation from other people. There are, however, times when feedback might make it harder to maintain self-esteem and that positive view (one book I recently read spoke about this in terms of “the dipper and the bucket,” where the “bucket” is one’s self-esteem and the dipper is a comment or action that lowers or can add to the positive feelings that a person has for himself or herself). Such comments may have some foundation, and it’s up to us to sift through them to be sure that how we think of ourselves mostly matches how others see us. There are times when that feedback from the outside has little or nothing to do about what is on the inside of the recipient of a comment, but, instead, says more about what is on the inside of the one making a negative comment that may not be constructive in any way.
As the Israelites passed through Moabite territory, Balak, the Moabite king, called on Balaam, a prophet from a nearby land, to curse the Israelites. However, as much as he tried, Balaam couldn’t offer one negative proclamation about this large multitude of the future Jewish people traveling along their journey. He thought he could, but he had to keep telling Balak that he could only say what God had allowed him to say. One of those declarations is MAH TOVU – How good are your tents, O Jacob, your dwellings, O Israel.” Condemnation, almost automatically, turned to admiration as Balaam looked down on this people that continued to journey along its road to freedom.
We don’t always have Balaams around us – an external “seer” who, through it all, can only admit that we have every reason to preserve our self-esteem and positive self-image because our “tents” and “dwellings” – the general effect of our character and our actions – do bring something desirable and productive to our community and blessing to the world. In moments when we need that extra voice on our side, we can think of Balaam and remember the many people who have seen what good we can do and what impact we can have that have, without solicitation, offered us the blessing of their support. May we remember to find that good in our fellow community members (and, I would add on July 4th weekend, fellow citizens) and speak it freely, whenever we can!
How do we create a positive image for ourselves about our character? Self-esteem is a possibility for anyone to maintain on their own and with encouragement and affirmation from other people. There are, however, times when feedback might make it harder to maintain self-esteem and that positive view (one book I recently read spoke about this in terms of “the dipper and the bucket,” where the “bucket” is one’s self-esteem and the dipper is a comment or action that lowers or can add to the positive feelings that a person has for himself or herself). Such comments may have some foundation, and it’s up to us to sift through them to be sure that how we think of ourselves mostly matches how others see us. There are times when that feedback from the outside has little or nothing to do about what is on the inside of the recipient of a comment, but, instead, says more about what is on the inside of the one making a negative comment that may not be constructive in any way.
As the Israelites passed through Moabite territory, Balak, the Moabite king, called on Balaam, a prophet from a nearby land, to curse the Israelites. However, as much as he tried, Balaam couldn’t offer one negative proclamation about this large multitude of the future Jewish people traveling along their journey. He thought he could, but he had to keep telling Balak that he could only say what God had allowed him to say. One of those declarations is MAH TOVU – How good are your tents, O Jacob, your dwellings, O Israel.” Condemnation, almost automatically, turned to admiration as Balaam looked down on this people that continued to journey along its road to freedom.
We don’t always have Balaams around us – an external “seer” who, through it all, can only admit that we have every reason to preserve our self-esteem and positive self-image because our “tents” and “dwellings” – the general effect of our character and our actions – do bring something desirable and productive to our community and blessing to the world. In moments when we need that extra voice on our side, we can think of Balaam and remember the many people who have seen what good we can do and what impact we can have that have, without solicitation, offered us the blessing of their support. May we remember to find that good in our fellow community members (and, I would add on July 4th weekend, fellow citizens) and speak it freely, whenever we can!
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Starting out
This is a blog created for the Confirmation program at Temple Israel of Dover! I am looking forward to meeting with Temple post Bar/Bat Mitzvah students in person as well as getting a dialogue going online!
An update - April 17, 2010 - This has become my weekly Torah message blog and a site for compilation of other messages -thank you for your interest!
An update - April 17, 2010 - This has become my weekly Torah message blog and a site for compilation of other messages -thank you for your interest!
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