Category: blog archive

Omer Day #5: People Stepping Out Toward their Destiny

Today is the fifth day of the Omer, five days into the 49-day journey from Egypt to Sinai to the receiving of Torah.

We Jews are a people on the move, journeying from one place to another.

  • Our existence began with a call to set forth: Lech lecha, God said to Avram and Sarai  – Go for yourself from your land, from the place of your birth, from your father’s home, to a land that I will show you. With few words, God sent our ancestors off on a journey for their own benefit, on a trek that would help them find their true selves. Off they went, to find their destinies and to become a blessing.
  • The transition between generations – from Abraham to Isaac – also began with a call for Abraham to take his son on a journey, three days out into the land of Moriah, to a place that God would show him. Whether for sacrifice or for a spiritual experience, this desert trek transformed both participants, encoding a terrifying experience into their hearts and our history.
  • On a journey to meet up with his brother Esau after 40 years of separation, Jacob pauses for the night and awakens to find himself wrestling with something – an angel? himself? his conscience? There his name is changed from Ya’akov (the one who tries to hold another back) to Yisrael (one who struggles with God). From there he limps off to become a blessing, to assume his role as the father of a great people.
  • On a journey in the wilderness, chasing after a stray lamb, Moses slows down enough to notice that a bush burns but is not consumed. There he hears God’s call: to become the mouthpiece of holiness, to speak truth to power, and to emancipate his people Israel from under the yoke of a tyrant.
  • Then as a whole people, we embarked on a journey, with Moses, Miriam and Aaron leading them. Out of Egypt, up to Mt. Sinai, and later for 40 years wandering in the desert. Reborn after passing through the metaphoric birth canal of the Red Sea, our people Israel met the Holy One at the holy mountain, receiving Torah and becoming a holy people.

So many steps taken by so many of our ancestors, traveling to find themselves and discover their true calling.

How much strength they must have had to take leave of the familiar!
How courageous they had to have been to embark on a journey to the unknown!
Can we even begin to understand the internal struggle, the conversations inside their heads?

And stil, this one up and leaves (Avram). And then answers a divine call (Avraham). This one stops running long enough to wrestle with his inner voices (Jacob). And that one slows down enough to witness a miracle (Moses).

We Jews embark on these journeys not because we want to, but because journeying itself is encoded into our very DNA. Always on the move, always seeking to discover our destiny. From slavery to freedom. From pain to healing. From hopelessness to hopefulness.

What journey are you on?
Are you ready to answer the call?
God promises that once we embark, we shall become a blessing. To ourselves and others.

So take a chance. Step out into the unknown. And may your journey be blessed.

Today is the fifth day of the Omer. I am off at Congregation Or Ami’s Seder in the Wilderness. And as my wife assured me, once I ventured forth, I am having a great time!

Omer Day #4: Up Off our Tushies, Stepping Forward into the Unknown

Today is day four of the Omer.  We have been traveling out of Egypt for four days.

Today we really get out into the wilderness. Well, Seder in the Wilderness as the community of Congregation Or Ami calls it. Seder in the Wilderness [pictures here and some video here] is our two day experience away from the comforts of home as we relive the exodus from Egypt and the wanderings in the wilderness. Some 140 people gather together – this year at the Shalom Institute of JCA Shalom (in Malibu), in years past at Malibu Creek State Park. We camp or cabin; we play, pray and reflect within the beautiful Santa Monica Mountains. We have a traditional game of horseshoes (one might argue that Pharaoh’s army, pulled by horses, used thousands of horseshoes… except that would be an anachronism – horseshoes came much later). Campfire services, a big Persian Kosher-for-Passover barbecue and a reliving the exodus program are highlights.

I hate going to Seder in the Wilderness.
Don’t get me wrong. I love being there. I just don’t like going there.  As my wife reminds me that whenever I am at SIW, I really, really enjoy it. The relaxed atmosphere, the ability to sit with and talk to people, and the clean air are so refreshing. But getting myself packed and ready, moving beyond the inertia of the post-Seder, pre-SIW period, is challenging. These post-seder days I become a computer addicted, matzah-fueled couch (kosher for passover) potato.  It makes me wonder:

  • Would I have been one of those who just didn’t want to get off his tush and thus ended up staying in Egypt?  
  • Would I have been one who, once out of Egypt, began complaining about the emptiness and danger of the desert? 
  • Would I have gotten scared at Yam Suf (the Red Sea), with Pharaoh’s army behind us and the Sea before us?
  • Would I have kvetched that we should be turning around and returning to the relative comforts of Egypt?
  • Would you?

Beginning journeys can be difficult. We are more comfortable with what we know, even if it is not healthy, good for us or inspiring. The journey toward our true selves – toward who we should be, could be – is blocked by the here and now.  Early in our wilderness trek, each step can be momentous, even as we feel like we are lifting weights to get our feet off the ground.

But if we step forward, step beyond our comfort zone, the journey can be very rewarding, for there is a Promised Land out there somewhere awaiting our arrival.

Here’s the traditional Tefillat Haderech, a Jewish prayer for wayfarers, for all who are embarking on a journey:

May it be Your will, Eternal One, our God and the God of our ancestors, that You lead us toward peace, emplace our footsteps towards peace, guide us toward peace, and make us reach our desired destination for life, gladness, and peace. 

May You rescue us from the hand of every foe, ambush, bandits and wild animals along the way, and from all manner of punishments that assemble to come to Earth. May You send blessing in our every handiwork, and grant us peace, kindness, and mercy in your eyes and in the eyes of all who see us. May You hear the sound of our supplication, because You are the God who hears prayer and supplications. Blessed are You, Eternal One, who hears prayer. [Listen to Doug Cotler’s musical version.] 

So I journey now, by car, to Seder in the Wilderness. May you get up off your tush and step forward into the unknown but hopeful place beyond where you are.  And may all our journeys be safe and inspiring.

Omer Day #3: Opening Eyes to the Grandeur of Creation

Today is day three of the Omer. [For more on counting the Omer, scroll down to the bottom of this post.]  


We are walking toward Sinai and, eyes open, begin to notice the wonders which surround us. For the ancient Israelites, these wonders included the vast openness of the wilderness, the sand beneath their feet, and the countless stars overhead. When living as slaves, they rarely had time to look up to take note of God’s creations. Now, walking forward to freedom, they – like you and me today – can witness and embrace the grandeur of Creation.

Today is also Earth Day, our annual celebration of the plane we call “home”.  We live on it; we love it. We use it; we abuse it. We assume that the Earth’s resources are endless and that our needs take precedence over everything else. After all, we argue, didn’t God tell us in Genesis 2 that we shall have dominion over all the Earth?

Then we sit idly by as species become extinct, as whole forests disappear, and the deserts begin to encroach upon the land. We watch the glaciers melt; the air turn grey; and the world heat up. As we crack open the earth to feed our oil addiction, and then we sit back impotent as the oil runs amuck polluting the earth, we might recall that our responsibility from Genesis chapter 2 included caring for and protecting the earth.

Eyes open, we begin to see – really see – the wonder around us. Like Adam on the first full day after creation, we sing Psalms of praise for God’s Chesed (kindness) in allowing us to enjoy the Tiferet (beauty) of our planet.

We become appreciative of all we have around us – trees and flowers, clean air vast open spaces, hands to bold and be held by…  We are simultaneously at one with and responsible for this creation. And we realize HaMakom (the Place) is God’s Place.  We understand that God is in Creation, that God IS creation.  [I discovered this on a road trip through 22 states in 31 days, including visiting many National Parks. Read about my experience with HaMakom.]

Today is the 3rd day on our journey. May we witness the holiness of the earth, and may it open our eyes to the holiness of the Holy One!

Counting the Omer:

As we learn in the Torah, You shall count for yourselves seven weeks, from when the sickle is first put to the standing crop shall you begin counting seven weeks. Then you will observe the Festival of Shavu’ot for the Eternal, your God. (Deuteronomy 16:9-10).  Use this Simpsons-inspired Homer Omer Counting Calendar.

We bless:  Baruch Atah Adonay Eloheynu melech ha’olam asher kid’shanu bemitzvotav vetzivanu al sefirat ha’omer – Blessed are you, ETERNAL, our God, the sovereign of all worlds, who has made us holy with your mitzvot and commanded us concerning the counting of the Omer. 

Omer Day #2: Kvell, Don’t Kvetch

Today is day #2 of the Omer, that counts (and recounts) the journey from Egypt to Mt. Sinai. We embark onward, toward our selves.

Today, we think about kvetching and kvelling.

Kvetching is that typically Jewish act of complaining, loudly and regularly about things big and small.  We kvetch about our families.  We kvetch about our kids.  We kvetch about our jobs, spouses/partners, the economy, the government… everything. Our biblical ancestors kvetched during their desert trek about the food, the lack of water, the danger from enemies, about Moses’ leadership.  Such a typical Jewish act, and yet, kvetching is profoundly the antithesis of what it means to be authentically Jewish.

To be a Jew is to be a kveller!  Kvelling means to praise.  Kvelling lets others know that good things are happening. It leads us to count our blessings.  We could be praising the important things: our health, our relative wealth (we always have more than others somewhere), the roof over our heads, the community of which we are part… The ancient rabbis teach us that we should say 100 blessings each day.  I try to teach that we should try to count 3 or 12 or 18 things each day that are blessings in our lives.  3 or 12 or 18 things worthy of kvelling about to ourselves and others.

We have an easier time kvetching than kvelling.  Yet as we journey forth toward Sinai, let’s be the blessing God intended us to be.  We can make strides in that direction but counting blessings as we count the days.  We can go the distance by distancing ourselves from kvetches.

Today is day two of the Omer.  Begin counting your kvells! (And let me know how it feels).

Omer Day #1: Being Present for Each Other

We count the seven times seven weeks (or 49 days) of the Omer, corresponding with the 49 day journey of the Israelites to Mt. Sinai.  Counting the Omer is a mystical journey, a journey to our highest selves.  This week, we traverse through the sephirah of chesed (kindness and love).

Today is day one, the first day of the Omer.  

I dedicate this first day’s journey to those who are suffering – physically, emotionally, spiritually – and particularly to a young friend who is watching her father slowly die.  With overflowing chesed, I/we answer her – and all who suffer: “I see you. I hear you. I honor you.”  It is about just being there for each other, being present.

Poet/liturgist Alden Solovy offers Witnessing: A Meditation which invites us to pause, to remain silent, and to offer up our precious presence.  (Make sure to check out Adlen’s many, many beautiful prayers at www.tobendlight.com.)

Witnessing: A Meditation 

Have you seen the teen who cuts himself with a blade?
Or the youth who sticks herself with needles?
Have you seen a father force back tears while he buries his son?
Or a mother weeping with her daughter, wailing after an assault?
Do you hear the voices of the hungry, the lost, the shocked and confused
Afraid that they may never return from the darkness? 

Brother, do not say: “I’ve been there.”
Sister, do not say: “I know that feeling.”
Rather, say: “I see you. I hear you. I honor you.” 

Weep with me, not for me.
Pray with me, not about me.
Walk with me, don’t lead me. 

This moment is not yours to repair,
Not yours to sooth,
Not yours to ease with the false balm of words. 

Have you watched your daughter kiss her mother goodbye on the deathbed?
Have you seen your home consumed in fire?
If you have, bless you.
If you haven’t, bless you. 

Have you stood with your sisters and brothers,
Not needing to understand,
Not needing to change the moment,
Witnessing in silence?
If you have, bless you.
If you haven’t, this blessing awaits you. 

G-d of holiness and healing,
Teach us to be present as loving witnesses
On this amazing, glorious and dangerous journey.
Help us to stay awake to love and loss,
To be present for those in need. 

Help me to see, to hear and to remember –
And so to bless –
The lonely and the lost,
The bereaved and bereft,
With compassion and love. 

To stand with them,
As they have stood with me,
In the darkness,
Until I could, once again, face the light.

© 2010 Alden Solovy and www.tobendlight.com. All rights reserved.

Why is there an Oyster on the Seder Plate?

The following Seder reading was adapted from the New York Times article by Paul Greenberg, An Oyster on the Seder Plate?

[Lest anyone think otherwise, we did NOT really put an oyster on our Seder plate.  However, based on the lesson it teaches, we might have.]


Download a printable version of this Haggadah insert.

Why is There an Oyster on our Seder Plate?

ALL: Tonight we might have put an oyster on our Seder plate.

Reader: While I didn’t particularly want to put something traif atop that most kosher of dishes, this Passover falls on the first anniversary of the Deepwater Horizon blowout in the Gulf of Mexico. And since BP, the leaseholder of the failed well, seems intent with its new television ads on making us forget about the spill, I felt that something drastic was in order to help us remember. Combining the memorial powers of the Seder plate with the canary-in-the-coal- mine nature of the oyster seemed a good way to keep the disaster — and BP’s promises to clean up its mess — in mind.

Reader: In March, I spent a week in Louisiana’s bays and bayous. All over the region I encountered oyster dredges full of dead, empty shells and broken oystermen with equally empty pockets. Many of the oystermen I interviewed reported that 80 percent of their beds had been killed.

ALL: Ecologically speaking, this is huge: a single oyster can filter 40 gallons of water a day, and the millions of oysters in Louisiana’s waters are one of the things that make the gulf work as an ecosystem.

Reader: True, many oysters died not from the oil directly, but rather from the consequences of a desperate attempt to counter the spill’s effects. As oil rushed shoreward last spring, Louisiana’s coastal coordinator opened gates along the Mississippi River and released millions of gallons of freshwater, hoping the surge would push the oil away. It’s hard to say whether this worked; what it definitely did do was make some coastal waters too fresh for oysters to survive. Many beds were decimated. It will take years for them to recover.

Reader: Freshwater wasn’t the only thing dumped into gulf waters to mitigate the spill: more than 1.8 million gallons of Corexit, a chemical used to break up oil slicks, transformed the floating, possibly recoverable oil into an invisible angel of death that sank and claimed not just the first born but perhaps the first million born of many gulf creatures — a considerable blow to what is arguably America’s most important fish nursery.

ALL: Indeed, oysters are just the beginning.

Reader: The delayed effects of oil and Corexit will likely be seen for years. In 2012 the number of blue crabs — which many people associate with the Chesapeake Bay but in fact often come from the gulf — may significantly drop thanks to the spill. In 2013, the redfish that Paul Prudhomme famously blackened may not be there for fishermen and diners to enjoy. In 2017 we could see a considerable drop in the population of bluefin tuna, the missing adult fish having been killed as fragile larvae in 2010.

Reader: And even if by some miracle there is no significant decline in the gulf’s sea life, its harvest might still suffer from a sullied reputation. In a recent poll of 18 national restaurant chains released by Greater New Orleans Inc., an economic development organization, found that only 19 percent of those restaurants’ customers held a favorable view of gulf seafood in 2010, compared with 75 percent in 2004.

ALL: Oystermen weren’t the only ones affected by the spill, of course.

Reader: But while BP has compensated waiters and hairdressers for work lost during last summer’s ruined tourist season, most oystermen told me that aside from an emergency payment last fall, they have yet to see compensation that approaches the value of their lost oysters.

Reader: Fortunately for BP, it can take decades for the aftereffects of an event of this scale to appear. And it will be a long time before the Natural Resources Damage Assessment, put in place to determine BP’s true liability, will be made fully public with any sort of conclusion about the company’s liability.

Reader: Although we might have put an oyster on the Seder plate, we might also find a less controversial, less treif way to mark the disaster.

Reader: We might put a small dish of oil next to your glass of wine. After we’ve dipped our finger in our wine to count out the 10 plagues that brought down Egypt’s tyrannical pharaoh, we could dip our finger in the oil and dab out an 11th plague.

ALL: In so doing [we] remember that in A.D. 2010, the Jewish year 5770, humanity damaged a valuable, nourishing ecosystem to maintain the tyranny of oil. Until we throw off that tyranny, we will mark many more plagues in the years to come.

[Paul Greenberg is the author of “Four Fish: The Future of the Last Wild Food.”]

Glee-ful Seder, Got a Bone to Pick with Passover, and Grandparents Recount Pesach Past: Kipnes/November Seder Ideas 2011

Each year, we try to come up with variations on the Seder’s rituals and themes so that our seder participants will experience anew and reflect more deeply on this year’s Seder.  This year’s Seder ideas include a reading on Glee characters as depictions of the Four Children, a new ritual for the Zeroah (shankbone) and presentations by grandparents and college students.  Make sure to peruse previous years’ seder ideas (including my favorite – Why is there a football and a corkscrew on the seder plate?).

Secrets to Success: Most excitingly, our Seder made the jump from child-focused to adult-focused. Our secrets to success included:

  1. Providing enough dipping foods to keep us sated (and not starving) during the Haggadah reading
  2. Embracing a healthy flexibility ensuring that while we did ever ritual and blessing, we moved things around as the story and stomachs determined necessary
  3. Preparation that included giving more than half the participants responsibility for sharing their answers to a question.

Setting Expectations for Thoughtfulness: Now that we are all older (no kids to roll around on the floor), we have an opportunity to experience the Seder in a profoundly new way. We are called together once a year – only once – to really think about our mytho-historical past as part of a people who went from slavery to freedom, from oppression to pain, from hopelessness to hopefulness. We will consider where and for whom freedom still is but a dream. And we will consider how our Biblical memory goads us to be agents of change. So for one meal we will talk, think, listen, and argue,  and only then sit down for the meal.

Preparing Grandparent and College Student Presentations in Advance: We asked the grandparents each to be prepared to talk about one of these questions:

  • What were the Passover Seders like when they were children?
  • How did the messages of the seder influence their lives?
  • In what ways do they value the freedom we have in America?

Similarly, we told the college age participants to be prepared to speak about:

  • One place or situation in the world where freedom still does not exist. 

We lovingly told them that they will be singing for their supper so the meal would not be served until each of them spoke.

The results were fabulous. Grandparents reveled us with stories of their childhood sedarim; the college-age participants spoke about immigrants and the Dream act, anti-semitism around the world as seen through the eyes of college roommates, and marriage equality. A mixed race relative spoke about racism while growing up in the deep south while her child talked about anti-semitism experienced in his middle school.

Dayeinu: We explained that this song Dayeinu (“it would have been enough”) recounts the many blessings brought by God into the lives of our ancestors – the plagues, the exodus, the Torah at Mt. Sinai, manna in the wilderness, arriving in the promised Land – and that how any one blessing would have been enough.  So we invited each participant to recount one blessing – great thing that happened – in his/her life. After each person spoke, we said “dayeinu”.  Then, we sang Dayeinu.

Got a Bone to Pick with Passover: A New Ritual Reading for the Zeroah/Shankbone.  We explored the move from idol worship to monotheism and potentially back to idol worship.  What are the things we worship today?

Glee-ful Passover: On my wife’s suggestion, we adapted the article The Four ‘Sons’ as Characters from Glee into a Seder reading: Glee, the Passover Four Children and How We Connect to Judaism.  Then the leader asked people to respond by either answering the questions at the beginning of the reading, or just saying what it said to them. The discussion continued for a while as people spoke about their own connection to Judaism, how Jewish self-perception  changed when they went off to college or to Israel, and how Jewish connections were different in open and diverse areas like the Bay area but less so in small towns.

Urging our Members of Congress to Support Foreign Aid to Israel

I joined the leaders of the major denominations of Judaism to urge our members of Congress to support Foreign Aid to Israel.  The letter read:

Dear Senator/Representative:

As Rabbis in the American Jewish community we write today to express our unified support for the State of Israel and to underscore the vital importance of U.S. foreign aid to Israel. It is essential that foreign aid to Israel, America’s strongest ally in the Middle East, continue as part of a strong far-reaching foreign aid package that allows nations to address poverty, global warming, democracy building, human rights and disease prevention.

Aid to Israel is an investment in U.S. security and Israel’s security. President Obama’s proposed FY2012 budget includes an increase in foreign aid to Israel to $3.075 billion as part of the 10-year agreement signed in 2007. This aid is essential to Israel, which spends a higher percentage of its gross domestic product on its own defense than any other industrialized country in the world. U.S. foreign aid reaffirms our commitment to a democratic ally in the Middle East and gives Israel the military edge to maintain its security and the economic stability to pursue peace. Furthermore, U.S. foreign aid to Israel represents a strong investment in the American economy; Israel spends over 75% of its aid in the United States supporting American jobs.

It is essential that foreign aid to Israel not be separated from the rest of the foreign aid package. Aid to Israel, like foreign aid in general, is an investment in the future. The United States spends just over one penny of every federal dollar on foreign aid, a small price to pay for a world-wide investment in democracy, economic development and political stability, increasing the quality of life for millions of people outside the United States. As Jews, we insist that the U.S. do all that it can to continue to be a leader in the world supporting basic human rights and we are unwilling to compromise this for aid to Israel or vice versa.

As Jews we are committed to the vision of the Prophets and Jewish sages who considered the pursuit of peace a religious obligation. Foreign Aid to Israel is an essential way that we can fulfill our obligation to “seek peace and pursue it” (Psalms 34:15).

We urge you to vote for continued U.S. foreign aid to Israel and to support foreign aid broadly as a means of advancing American leadership and interests around the world. For a full list of Rabbis that signed this letter nationally, visit www.rac.org.

The letter was also signed by:

Rabbi Eric Yoffie
President
Union for Reform Judaism

Rabbi Steven C. Wernick
Executive Vice President and CEO
United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism

Rabbi Steven Weil
Executive Vice President
Orthodox Union

Rabbi Fredi Cooper
President
Reconstructionist Rabbinical Association

Rabbi Jonathan Stein
President
Central Conference of American Rabbis

Rabbi Julie Schonfeld
Executive Vice President
Rabbinical Assembly

Rabbi Basil Herring
Executive Vice President
Rabbinical Council of America

Rabbi David Saperstein
Director and Counsel
Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism

Schlepping the Distance to Bury the Dead

I schlepped to the middle of… far away… to attend the funeral of the father of some friends. Traffic was bad both ways. Being on my day off, the funeral cut into the little personal time I would have all week.  Still, I went.

There are no medals for attending someone’s funeral. Like the ritual of shoveling earth on the grave, there are no “thank you’s” for attending a funeral or a shiva minyan. And yet they rank particularly high on the Jewish ritual “must do” list. Accompanying the dead to their final resting place (halvayat hamet) is one of the acts of kindness (Gemilut Chasadim / גמילות חסדים) that the famous Mishnah in Tractate Peah 1:1 lists among the deeds “for which a person receives some reward in this world while the principal reward remains  in the world to come (דברים שאדם אוכל מפירותיהן בעולם הזה והקרן קיימת לו לעולם הבא).

For this funeral, I didn’t know the deceased. I met him only through the stories his daughter and son told me over the years. A man of few words and fewer expressions of emotion, his being overflowed with artistic talents that bordered on prodigious. A survivor of the Shoah, he struggled with and extended far beyond that darkest of lifetimes. Non-religious, he nonetheless birthed the beginning of a dynasty of significant rabbonim (rabbis). I learned about him and carry on his memory because of their stories and this funeral.

Perhaps that’s why we drop everything to go to funerals:

  • to attend to the communal needs of caring for the bereaved; 
  • to become a vessel of memory for a person we may not have known; 
  • to remind us that the sun does not rise or set based on our particular needs or schedule;
  • to bring the community to the mourners so they will feel valued, cared for, significant; and
  • to goad us into counting our blessings. 

So I schlepped a long distance yesterday to attend my friend’s father’s funeral.

A moment in time. A pause from life’s pressures. A gift to remind me of what is really important.

May Dave’s memory be for a blessing.

May his children and grandchildren find the courage, fortitude, love of family and God’s love to endure the difficult weeks ahead.

The Antidote to Compassion Fatigue OR Just Get Up Off Your Tush and Get Walking

Five years…

  • Five years of walking to end genocide.
  • Five years of showing up, standing up and demanding an end to the wholesale slaughter of human beings.
  • Five years to contemplate whether our participation makes a difference.

There is renewed killing in Darfur. They are still raping women by the hundreds of thousands in the Congo.  And we are still walking to end genocide – with Jewish World Watch – five years later.

Some people chose to stay home this year, in part because they feel like nothing is changing. We call this compassion fatigue. About it, our ancient rabbis wrote in Pirkei Avot: Lo alecha ham’lacha ligmor; v’lo ata ben chorin l’hitbatel mimenah – it is not your responsibility to finish the task; but neither are you free to shrug off your part. We Jews do our part, being upstanders. Standing up for what is right; showing up to make sure our voices are heard.

So Congregation Or Ami did. For the fourth year in a row, our synagogue brought the largest delegation and raised the most money to expand awareness about genocide around the world. Though we joked that this year is the last year – end genocide this week or we are done walking – but we know this is not true.

Why?

  • Because Lo ta’amod al dam rei-acha – Torah teaches us that we cannot stand idly by while our neighbor bleeds.
  • Because our voices at past marches – combined with those of others around the country –  (1) convinced President Obama to appoint a special envoy to the Darfur region, and (2) supported the international Criminal Court as it indicted Sudan’s president for his actions supporting the genocide, and (3) helped build international support for the referendum which led to southern Sudan’s vote to secede from the Sudan, and (4) began the pressure in the US and the state of California to boycott Conflict Minerals from the Congo, which according to people in the know has slowed down some of the enslavement by rebel groups in the Congo.
  • And because Kedoshim Tehiyu – the Torah’s call that you shall be holy – is based not on our beliefs but on our actions. When we act ethically, or as the prophet Micah counseled us, pursuing justice, loving mercy and walking humbly before God – then, and only then, can we claim the title of being holy.

So push through the compassion fatigue and get out and walk. Our voices are heard and our footsteps felt.

Thank you to Or Ami’s Walk chair Laurie Tragen-Boykoff for motivating so many of us. Mazel tov also to Program Director Marsha Rothpan who was one of the two JWW coordinators of the whole Walk, and to Youth Advisor Michelle Westmiller who as JWW Student Activism Coordinator helped put on this amazing Walk.

Haveil Havalim: What Other Jews are Blogging About

Haveil Havalim #312 – It’s Time To Talk About The Elephant In The Room

Welcome to Haveil Havalim Edition #312!

Founded by Soccer Dad, Haveil Havalim is a carnival of Jewish blogs — a weekly collection of Jewish & Israeli blog highlights, tidbits and points of interest collected from blogs all around the world. It’s hosted by different bloggers each week and coordinated by Jack. The term ‘Haveil Havalim,’ which means”Vanity of Vanities,” is from Qoheleth, (Ecclesiastes) which was written by King Solomon. King Solomon built the Holy Temple in Jerusalem and later on got all bogged down in materialism and other ‘excesses’ and realized that it was nothing but ‘hevel,’ or in English, ‘vanity.’

This week’s host – Esser Agaroth – raises the question of whether one must include in a review of blog posts of the week, those with which one disagrees.  Quoting a previous post of his, he says:

I am not a pluralist,…from far it. Yet, I strongly believe that Jews with differing views working together is the bottom line behind HH’s success. Sometimes a particular issue will have a noticeable theme or skew to it, depending on the host. But, the following week could well provide a completely different one. It is an interesting set of relationships we have been developing here. Do I include posts from people who disagree with me? Am I compromising my principles if I do? But, if I don’t, then I sure can’t expect them to include mine, right?…Like I said, I am not a pluralist, far from it. But, if we take the time to look around and to listen (I mean REALLY listen), we can often be surprised at how much we really do have in common. Even if it’s poetry or music, or a search for the best cappuccino in Israel, it’s at least a start. As they say, “It’s a process.” I don’t know about you, but I am going to keep coming back to see how it continues to work out. 



Clearly, Esser Agaroth has a clear sense of what is appropriate and what is not. Says he:
What do I find offensive?

I find it offensive when Jews confuse Western culture and sensibilities for Jewish ones. Whether we are talking about “innocent civilians” during a milhemeth misswah (obligatory war), turning Jews into non-Jewish authorities, or a[Italian] black hat, none of these are Jewish concepts.

I find it offensive when Jews accuse other Jews of suborning mass-murder, when murder is an act which may only take place between Jews (Mekhilta, Ramba”m, Sefer HaHinukh). “Killing” is universal; “murder” is not. Please get your terminology right.

I find it offensive when Jews distort the Torah according to their pre-established beliefs and [galuti/diasporan] feelings, like when a Jew quotes the Talmud Bavli…

…that to save a life, it is as if one has saved a world.

…and neglects to mention that HaZa”L was not talking about just any old life, but rather a Jewish one.

Here I part company with Esser Agaroth (whom I don’t really know, but whom I am starting to by reading his blog).  Why? Because he sets himself – and his seemingly narrow sense of Judaism – as the sole appropriate posek (decisor/interpreter) of Judaism.  Those opinions end Jewish conversation; its an ancient, more seriously fundamentalist approach – when one party deems the others are outside the realm of legitimate Jewish belief.  
While I disagree with Esser Agaroth, I appreciate the worldview he presents as he hosts this week’s 
Haveil Havalim.  Go over and take a look at it on his blog.

Got a Bone to Pick on Passover: Try this New Shankbone (Zeroah) Ritual

The Zeroah or Shank Bone on the seder plate reminds us of the pascal sacrifice, the sacrifice of a lamb on the eve of the Exodus from Egypt.  It served many purposes, including as a thanksgiving offering to God for (soon) bringing us out of Egypt.  It also recalls the lamb’s blood that our Israelites ancestors put on their doorposts, just before the 10th plague, so that the Angel of Death would pass over their houses.

[Other Passover Resources and Ideas here.]
[Can We Eat Bean, Rice, Corn and Peas on Passover?]

Think about the far-reaching power of that simple act.  In Egypt, many things and many animals were considered to be gods. Pharaoh was a god; the sun and the Nile were gods. Lambs were also considered gods. So, as one of their final acts before they left Egypt, the Israelites were instructed to sacrifice a lamb and place its blood on their doorposts. In doing so, they passed an important test of faith.  By sacrificing the lamb, they were admitting – as much to themselves as to others or to God – that the lamb was not a god, but merely an animal.  With this simple, uncommon act, our ancestors evidenced their willingness to reject all the (false) gods of the Egyptians.

Tonight, as we raise this shankbone, let us follow the lead of our Israelite ancestors.  We can declare our willingness to reject the false gods of our world: We can dismiss the gods we make of celebrity and sports figure, just because they were born with talent, yet irrespective of the morality of their actions. We can pledge to move beyond our worship of the false gods of money or power.  What else – what other kinds of false gods – do we worship?

(Invite others to list those things that our world worships mistakenly…)

May we have the strength, as did our Israelites ancestors, to reject these false gods.  May we worship only the One that leads us to justice and compassion, to truth and peace.

God Speaks at Jersey Mike’s

And then there are moments like this: when the heart opens to the Holy and fills with awe, wonder and love. Like now.

I sit here in the most mundane of places, at a table outside of the local sandwich shop Jersey Mike’s, having just consumed a Caesar Wrap (damn you, slightly rising cholesterol) and a caffeinated diet coke. Yet my heart has opened to the Holy One.

First came awe. I noticed that above the constant stream of highway traffic, there arose a range of hills, greened by the record-breaking rains that assaulted our environs. Patches of yellow wildflowers peaked out among the smattering of trees and outcroppings of rock. Where did this come from, this oasis of serenity amidst the cacophony of cars? A light blue sky rests overhead, enjoying the softest of cloud cover like confectionary sugar sprinkled on French Toast.

Is this a new sign from the One without End, saying that awe-inspiring creations surround us always? Or were the wonder-filled creations just hidden away until my heart opened up, ready to see that which was revealed?

It feels it is love. I text my wife, “Sitting at Jersey Mike’s, eating a wrap, reading and looking at the green hills. Was filled with awe of life and overflowing love for you. Thought I would tell you.” She texts back, “Wow. Thank u. Love u 2. Very much. Anything “new”?  I do not respond because my love for her and my love for life so overwhelm that nothing can distract.

I notice the inspiring journal I was reading, a CCAR Journal symposium on finding our path after ordination. Had the words of Dr. Carol Ochs, on Fostering a Relationship between Rabbi and God, moved me so? Or was it just a key, turning the locket that had enclosed my heart? And does it really matter?

Time clicks away; cars rush by.  But appointments beckon. I begin to rise.

Off in the distance those hills – so lush, colorful, peaceful – wink at me as if to say, “This is our place. An oasis of holiness. It’s always here. Just outside, beyond the freeway, as seen from a table, at Jersey Mike’s.”

Money-Money: Can There Ever Be Enough?

Like many, I keep a stack of “must read” books, journals and articles. I finally got around to reading a special issue of the CCAR Journal: The Reform Jewish Quarterly, dedicated to Jewish Perspectives on Finances and the Marketplace (Spring 2010). Ably edited by Rabbi Karyn D. Kedar, senior rabbi of Congregation B’nai Jehoshua Beth Elohim (Deerfield, IL), the journal issue offers a Jewish take on current topics including bankruptcy, lending, tzedakah and social policy.

In her Introduction, Rabbi Karyn Kedar writes eloquently about money, the acquisition of material wealth and when is enough enough? Her words, so beautifully written, have remained with me as I speak with people whose lives have changed drastically during this economic depression.

Rabbi Kedar challenges us:

Prosperity comes from hard work, though hard work does not guarantee prosperity. Wealth comes from a good job, though a good job does not guarantee wealth. Riches come from success, though success does not necessarily make us rich. The equation simply does not work consistently. Be smart, work hard, play the political game, be honest and loyal and savvy, and you still may lose your financial footing. We have lost our focus when we think that the endgame is acquisition of material wealth. 

Rebalancing is not just a portfolio strategy; it is also a religious concept. Rebalance. How much of our focus is on the stuff of life and how much on the substance? How much time is spent earning and acquiring and how much time is spent giving and loving? How much thinking is spent figuring out finances and how much thinking is spent figuring out relationships? How open are our wallets; how open are our hearts?

We learn from the prophet Isaiah (1:6–10):  Their land is filled with silver and gold; there is no end to their treasures. Their land is also filled with idols; they worship the work of their own hands. Enter into the rock; and hide in the dust . . . majesty is in the greatness of God. 

Enter into the rock, says the prophet. Go into the cave that hides the treasures of life, and then hide in the dust for the earth reveals its secrets. True greatness is eternal. Wealth has both tangible and intangible indicators. Love and generosity carry us through the tough times. Nobody stands at your grave and reads the details of your portfolio. Life is judged by giving, loving, faith, and the ability to rebalance when we have lost our focus. 

Our attitude about money is so rarely about money. It is more complicated than our bank statements, checkbooks, and portfolios. Money provides for us those things that sustain our living. Beyond that, money is a symbol. It can be a symbol for power, for love, for graciousness, for worthiness. When we enter the symbolic world of money we must do so with a great deal of caution and self-awareness. I believe that it all comes down to a spiritual and psychological attitude toward abundance and scarcity. Do you believe that ultimately, at the core of the universe, there is enough? Or do you believe that there will never be enough? Enough what? Enough love. This simple equation is perhaps the most complicated correlation we have. When there is enough, when we believe in the soul of our soul that we are supported, and have faith in something larger than what we can perceive, and when we can tap in to the love that abounds in the world, then we live abundantly.

And when we live abundantly, then all things fall into place, including our attitude toward money. When we are young we are led to believe that our legacy lies in our successes and our failures. And so life becomes a game, a sort of tally, of victory and failures. We keep score of triumphant moments and try to minimize, leverage, and rebrand the not-so successful moments. All the while we hope and often pray that the endgame will be to our advantage and we will be proclaimed a great success.

But that is only partially true. Our most abiding legacy lies within the strength of our character. And it may just be an ironic twist of fate that character is best built and measured when we experience failure. Not that success is without its test of courage and integrity. But when we fail—and we all do—we experience a profound moment of loss that is layered and nuanced. In failure we may lose the game we are playing, our work, our livelihood, a relationship, a power struggle. And even more crippling, we may lose confidence, a positive self-image, optimism, stability, or good cheer, which knocks us off balance, off our mark. 

Herein lies the test of character: in the effort to regain composure, balance, direction, our footing. How we react, respond, and rebound is a measure of our inner strength, our character, our fortitude, our inner vision of what is possible despite the outer collapse of what was. It is in the motion of regaining balance that the strength of our character is formed and forged and molded. This current financial crisis, for many, has been the ultimate test of character. And this crisis, financial and otherwise, can also be a great teacher.

Pirkei Avot teaches: V’eizeh hu asher? HaSamei-ach b’Chelko.  Who is rich? The one who is satisfied with his/her portion.   As we struggle to climb out of the economic pit, may we remember that there is never “enough”, that the Jones’ always will have more, but that love and character and integrity will last a lifetime.

My Hero: A Heartwarming Aspergers Tale

I have a new hero. Someone who I look up to, venerate, and applaud. Someone who inspired and inspires me. I met this hero in New Orleans, while away at a CCAR rabbinical convention.

Sitting in a club listening to some great jazz, I heard my hero’s story. There were tears while it was told. My heart both sanked and soared while I listened. I vowed to always remember the story and shine light on the heroicism.

It’s a story about Aspergers, a condition on the autism scale, which – among other things – leaves those with it, without the crucial ability to read social cues. Unable to tell if you are bored, irritated, or busy, the person with Aspergers just drones on, seemingly acts out, or worse. He sometimes say things that are out of context, not funny, or are offensive. It’s hard for her to maintain friendships because people just don’t get her or can’t handle the challenge.

Worse yet, like a person in early stages of Alzheimer’s or Huntington’s Disease, many people with Aspergers know they are different. They know their life will never be normal. In my hero’s life, the dream was to have one day (just one day!) to be normal, without the Aspergers. A far cry from the new car, new jewelry or an iPad 2 that most of us covet.

It wasn’t working for both mom and dad to work. Aspergers Boy (call him “Abbie”) was not thriving; friendships were not abiding. Mom and Dad were dividing, a load of pressures and responsibilities that threatened to bring them all down. ‘Twas difficult to focus other siblings when Abbie needed such help, guidance and advocacy. Everyone suffered.

Oh, did I mention that mom was a highly successful professional, targeted by many to become the next CEO in her company, while Dad was a well paid craftsman, sought after for the quality of his work. They happily lived near family, surrounded by dear friends.

But life was getting oppressive. They couldn’t keep going. No one was thriving. Something had to change.

So they took a radical step. They searched the country – yes, all over America – for a town that provided real resources for children with Aspergers, in an organic way. They found a place where Abbie could thrive, where mom and dad’s stress would subside, where the needs of the other kids would not collide with the sacred responsibility of raising an Aspergers Boy.

So dad transferred to a new job a half a country away. They bought a house out there. They registered the kids in new schools.

Abbie won’t quite get his wish to be without Aspergers for a day, but he is going to a community where being an Aspergers boy might just be … normal.

Who is my hero, you wonder? Why it’s mom!

Mom is giving up her high profile, highly successful job and career, moving away from her family, leaving her friends, and plopping herself down in the middle of nowhere (well, relatively nowhere) because the family realized that Abbie and family needed full-time attention and guidance.

What’s a hero? Someone who, without thinking about her own needs, acts in a way to nobly put the wellbeing of others first. Think MLKing’s march through Selma. Think rescue workers in the remaining World Trade Center tower on 9/11.

And think of Abbie’s mom, who selflessly is giving it all up for Abbie, for her family and for the sacred gift of nurturing a child with Aspergers.

Abbie’s mom goes nameless, unless she wants to out herself in cyberspace. May she, and the others who have made similar choices, know that they inspire so many of us to strive to be heroes too.