Category: blog archive

10 Ideas for a Spiritual Thanksgiving

Collected by Rabbi Paul J. Kipnes, Congregation Or Ami, Calabasas, CA
(Adapted and expanded from work by Rabbi H. Rafael Goldstein) Rabbi H. Rafael Goldstein writes: “We do not often think of Thanksgiving as a Jewish holiday – it is an American holiday which we, as Americans observe. Thanksgiving in America was started by Christian pilgrims, and infused by many Christian values. In the media, we are surrounded by images of people sitting down to their Thanksgiving dinner and “saying grace,” celebrating the Christianity of Thanksgiving. There are always special program episodes on TV of all of our favorite shows, in which, for one episode a year, the people in the show actually express some human kindness. Homeless people are visited and fed, others in need are helped, and the heroes of our shows demonstrate that they can be “good people.” It seems that we have not developed our own specifically Jewish traditions for Thanksgiving. Yet, Thanksgiving is an interpretation of our holiday, Sukkot, the fall festival designated to thank God for the bountiful harvest. As American Jews, we should revel in celebration of an American holiday, and not have any feelings of discomfort about it. Thanking God, after all, is a value we all share.”

  1. Begin with a blessing. A collection of Blessings for Your Thanksgiving Table are found at www.orami.org on the Holidays page.
  1. Light Candles: Light candles at your table. There is no blessing for Thanksgiving candles, which means you get to make your own!!! Start out with the way we start all our blessings, Baruch Atah Adonai, Elohaynu Melech Ha’olam… (Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Guide of the Universe, who we thank for …) Then finish the sentence as you see fit. As you light your candles, invite others at your table to make their own blessings, using the same formula.
  1. Challah and Wine: Have challah (or delicious bread) and wine at your table, and say the blessings for them. Wine: Use the blessing formula above plus: Boray p’ri hagafen (who brings forth fruit of the vine). Challah: Use the blessing formula above plus: Hamotzi lechem min ha’aretz (who brings forth bread from the earth).

  1. Shehecheyanu: Thanksgiving is a great time to say shehechayanu (the blessing for thanking God for keeping us alive to enjoy this moment). Use the formula plus: shehechayanu, v’kiyimanu, v’higianu lazman hazeh (who has kept us alive, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this moment).
  1. Share Symbols of Thankfulness: Ask everyone invited to your dinner to bring something which symbolizes what they are thankful for. After the blessings, before dinner, have everyone talk about what they brought and its significance. Be sure everyone knows to bring something, and has a chance to talk, including children.
  1. Light a Yahrzeit Candle to Remember Deceased Relatives: Make some time for remembering the people who are not with you, either because of distance, family obligations (or preferences) or death. Families change. The people sitting at your table all have other family members with whom they are not sitting (in-laws, cousins, parents and grandparents, children who are with former spouses, etc.) Talk about who else is not physically there. A moment of silence for people who have died, and are missed can be a great way of allowing people to remember. Have people talk about who they miss and special things about them from previous Thanksgivings. You can also light Yahrzeit candles for people who have died as a part of remembering.
  1. Do some random mitzvot (acts of lovingkindness): Collect and deliver food, household and personal supplies to people who need them. There are plenty of food drives at this time of year. Contribute food. Make a donation in honor of the people coming to your dinner (or alternatively, in honor of your hosts) to your congregation, the Jewish Federation, Jewish Family Service, Mazon (Jewish hunger organization) or a local shelter. Invite a single person, or people whose families are distant, to be your special guests. If you are a guest this year for the first time, donate what you would have spent hosting a dinner for others in honor of those you would have invited, or in honor of your hosts.
  1. Teach children about the connections between Thanksgiving and the Bible. Remember, for the Jewish community, Thanksgiving offers a special opportunity to be grateful not only for the bounties and comforts of our lives but especially for the religious freedom we have found in the United States of America. The Bible was very important in the Pilgrims’ lives. When they wanted to give thanks to God for helping them survive, they recalled the harvest festival (Sukkot) they had read about in the Bible (Deuteronomy 16:13-17). They used the Sukkot celebration as their model. In 1702, author Cotton Mather referred to the Plymouth colony as “this little Israel.” He compared William Bradford, Plymouth’s second governor, to “Moses, who led his people out of the wilderness.” Look up the URJ’s Thanksgiving page at: http://urj.org/_kd/Items/actions.cfm?action=Show&item_id=1704&destination=ShowItem
  1. Review Jewish Values about Hunger and Poverty. As we sit down with our family and friends at the Thanksgiving table and offer thanks for the bounty that is ours, we often forget about the thousands of people in America, Canada and around the world who do not share our prosperity. While we gorge ourselves on turkey, stuffing, cranberries, and pumpkin pie, others do not even have the bare necessities to sustain themselves and their families. Jewish tradition teaches us that we are required to feed the hungry. Instead of celebrating this holiday in our own insular family units, Thanksgiving is a perfect time to reach out to the community and serve those who are most in need. Print out these Jewish texts, read them at your table, and then discuss how you can make a difference in the world. Find more ideas at www.rac.org.

· If there is among you a poor person, one of your kin, in any of your towns within your land which God gives you, you shall not harden your heart or shut your hand against them, but you shall open your hand to them, and lend them sufficient for their needs, whatever they may be. –Deuteronomy 15:7-8 · This is the fast I desire: to unlock fetters of wickedness, and untie the cords of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free; to break off every yoke. It is to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked to cover him, and not to hide yourself from your own flesh. (Isaiah 58:7-8) · When you are asked in the world to come, “What was your work?” and you answer: “I fed the hungry,” you will be told: “This is the gate of the Eternal, enter into it, you who have fed the hungry. (Midrash Psalms 118:17) · When you give food to a hungry person, give your best and sweetest food. (Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Issurei Mizbayach 7:11) · Hunger is isolating; it may not and cannot be experienced vicariously. He who never felt hunger can never know its real effects, both tangible and intangible. Hunger defies imagination; it even defies memory. Hunger is felt only in the present. (Elie Wiesel)

  1. Read Jewish Perspectives on Thanksgiving Day. Kevin Proffitt writes: “The Pilgrims of Plymouth observed the first American Thanksgiving in 1621, when Governor William Bradford proclaimed a special day of thanks for the colony’s first harvest. To celebrate, the Pilgrims prepared a feast that they shared with their Native American neighbors. Some time later, in the eighteenth century, many of the thirteen colonies observed days of prayer and gratitude during the harvest season. But it was not until 1777 that they agreed to observe a common day of thanksgiving.” Read more at http://tmt.urj.net/archives/2socialaction/112205.htm

Wordless Dina: The Dark & Light of Torah

By Rabbi Phyllis Berman & Rabbi Arthur Waskow (of The Shalom Center) The same mystical Hassidim who teach that the Torah is Divine Light also teach that there is no way to light except through darkness: “There was evening, there was morning: one day.” Creation begins in the dark of night; only then can it dawn, and finally both dark and light become one whole. Streaks of dark remain forever in the One Day.
There are streaks of darkness in the weave of Torah light.
The two of us fell into one such darkness as we were leading a class on sexuality in Torah.. We asked people to read as overnight homework the brief story of Dina (Genesis 34:1-31, which is part of the traditional Torah reading of this week).
Dina, the one daughter of Jacob who is named alongside his twelve sons, goes out to “see the daughters of the land.” There she is raped by Sh’chem, one of the local Canaanite notables. He falls in love with her and asks to marry her. Jacob sons insist that he and all his clansmen be circumcised before they can be permitted to marry an Israelite woman. They agree, and on the third day, when they are in most pain from the cutting, two of Jacob’s three oldest sons fall upon them and kill them all. Jacob accuses these two sons of making him odious to the nearby folk, endangering his life and household. Many years later he calls them murderers and denies them the rank due them in birth order.
In the entire story, Dina says not a word.
We asked the class to be prepared next day to speak in Dina’s name. Next day, as we began, a man’s hand shot up to speak for her. “That’s fine,” said Arthur “but before you give your voice to Dina, let’s have two women say her words.”
There was a silence. Then one of the women in the room raised her hand. She stood, closed her eyes, then looked around the circle of our faces:
“Raped,” she said. “I have been raped three times. “Once by Sh’chem. “Once by my brothers, who did not come to ask me what I thought before they did this killing. “And once by the Torah which will not let me speak. By the Torah, which is still raping me.”
She began to cry, and then sat down. There was a long, long silence. Finally we said, “We asked for two women to speak in Dina’s voice. Is another woman ready to speak now?” There was a longer, longer silence.
Then Phyllis said, “Is no one coming forward because you other women feel that Dina has truly spoken — that what we have already heard is really Dina voice?”
All the women nodded. And Phyllis said, “Me too.”
Raped by the Torah. Silenced by the Torah. What can anyone say? What can any man say? Can we keep that moment of darkness alight whenever we wrestle with the Torah?
There was a light that sprang from the darkness of that moment, just as the Hassidim said it would. For in the very same breath that our Dina said that the Torah rapes her, she was saying it by doing midrash on that very Torah. She was drawing on that same sacred text of sacred rapist Torah, in order to weave a new tale into that sacred rapist text.
A radical midrash. Perhaps the most radical imaginable midrash, for it negated the Torah in the moment of affirming it. Affirmed it by negating it. Negated it by affirming it. The light could not be separated from the darkness. Smile away the dark discovery, and enlightenment would also vanish with it.
Like running headlong into a Black Hole of seeming emptiness and utter possibility, the Holy Hole that may nurture an entire universe abirthing, a billion galaxies of light and dark that we can never see — from outside.
Is there another Torah hidden within the one we read, to be found only by plunging deep into its darkness?
Sometimes we pretend that the Torah is made of Light alone. Sometimes we
want to skip the passages written in dark and darkening flame, the flame of furnaces. But perhaps only from plunging into these Black Holes, these dark and bloody passages — silenced women, murdered men — can we birth the Torah that will give voice to Dina and give life to Sh’chem. Not by imitating the passages, not by making them our guide to action. But like the woman in our class, drawing on this darkness to see a new way forward.

Kindle the Lights of Peace: A Rabbinic Call to the American Jewish Community

Peace… Always something we as Jews must be willing to vigorously pursue. I just signed onto this Rabbinic letter organized by Brit Tzedek v’Shalom:

As we approach the festival of Chanukah, we American rabbis and cantors call on the American Jewish community to rekindle our commitment to Israeli-Palestinian peace. When we light candles at this darkest time of the year, may we nurture hope for a lasting peace settlement after too many years of violence and despair. If we learn anything from the story of Chanukah, it is that even when circumstances appear grim – perhaps especially then – hope and courage are vital.

At the upcoming Annapolis peace conference, the parties to the conflict will have their first substantive face-to-face meeting in nearly seven years to launch final-status negotiations. For many of us, the heady optimism and promise we felt while witnessing the Clinton peace talks seem like distant dreams. Yet, we must remain alert to the real opportunities emerging right now that need our support.

We urge the American Jewish community to stand behind the conference as it attempts to launch a negotiation process with the goal of a viable Palestinian state, living side-by side and in peace with a secure Israel. We cannot emphasize strongly enough that Israel’s long-term peace and security require that this conference be a true starting point for a real, sustained peace process, one characterized by consistent U.S. diplomatic engagement and tangible improvements in living conditions and security for both Israelis and Palestinians.

The next American president will play a critical role in determining whether the results of steps initiated at Annapolis lay the foundation for a final status peace agreement. A large measure of our hopes for peace will be entrusted to whoever wins the 2008 election, and as such, it is crucial that we communicate to all the candidates that a truly pro-Israel president will, with the support of the vast majority of American Jews, do everything in his or her power to bring about a negotiated two-state resolution of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

May the spirit of peace and the light of justice illumine the vision of our leadership for the benefit of our people and our world this Chanukah.

To view a list of current signers, click here.
To read more about this letter, click here.

Did We Do That? Thinking about Climate Change

Did We Do That? By THOMAS L. FRIEDMAN (October 28, 2007): We may have introduced enough CO2 emissions into Mother Nature’s operating system that we cannot determine anymore where she stopped and we started.

On target yet again, Friedman writes:

One should never extrapolate about climate change from any single weather event or season, but it does seem that we keep having more and more weather events and seasons that are modified with the words “since records have been kept” — as in the Los Angeles Times fire report on Monday, which noted that forecasters from the National Weather Service “couldn’t recall such intense winds in Southern California,” a region that meteorologists said was “already dealing with the driest year on record.”So a question has started gnawing at us as we observe events like Katrina and the California wildfires. I asked my friend Nate Lewis, an energy chemist at the California Institute of Technology, what is that question? He thought for a moment and answered: “Did we do that?”

Parents and Children: A Biblical Legacy of Dysfunction

Parents and Children: A Biblical Legacy of Dysfunction

Parents and children. Heartwarming. Challenging. Loving. Frustrating. Relationships fraught with misunderstanding. This jumble of emotions finds roots in our Biblical past. Even this week’s Torah portion recounts the challenging encounters between Abraham, Isaac and Sarah in the (Almost) Sacrifice of Isaac, the Akeda (Genesis 22).
[Read the Torah Story (Genesis 22:1-19)]
Sarah’s Story: A Mother’s Perspective

We were lying in our tent, enjoying a moment of quiet amidst the frenetic activity of desert life. And then Abraham began stirring, and with a sudden jerk, he sat up and called out, “Hineni, Here I am.” He was talking to God. At first what I heard made little sense. Though I could only hear Abraham’s responses, I understood that God requested something involving our son Isaac. Abraham’s usually strong, even voice was filled with shock, then anger, and finally acceptance. I was intrigued, and sat silently to hear more.

I started listening more intently. For a moment I thought I heard the word “sacrifice,” but I had to be mistaken. Then again, it sounded like “spiritual journey.” As Abraham spoke again, his words came as a choking sob from deep within his throat. My body started to shake with horror. This was a nightmare! Abraham thought that the Eternal One had requested that he sacrifice our only son Isaac. I wanted to hold Abraham in my arms, to cry with him, to help him rethink what God had said, to convince him to speak to God, but his eyes were distant and I was scared.

Isaac’s Story: A Son Reflects

How can I explain to you what really happened that day on the mountain? We hiked to the peak. Dad built an altar there; as usual he would not let me help. He laid out the wood. I was exhausted from the hike up. He wrapped me up in the blanket, laid me down. I could sense that he was going through with some sacrifice but I was too tired to think. I dozed fitfully.

Once again, nothing between my Dad Abraham and me was turning out as I had hoped. I felt straitjacketed, like Dad’s inability to reach out to me was tying me up, holding me down. His silence, that interminable silence, could have sliced through my heart like a knife. I vaguely recall Dad mumbling something, “Henini – here I am” (Genesis 22:11). Maybe he was trying to reach out to me. But it was just too late. I had hoped that this trip would change things. But it was just more of the same. Dad was supposed to bring me up to introduce me to God. We were going to sacrifice a lamb together. Instead, Abraham did it alone. Instead, again my dad sacrificed me.

Maybe, my wife Rebecca later wondered, Abraham really didn’t mean to hurt me. Maybe he was just trying to do what he thought dads were supposed to do – being strong. All I remember is that it hurt so much, that I had to break it off. After that trip, Dad was lauded world-wide for his unswerving faith in God and for ending the practice of child sacrifice. Thanks to the abundant fertility of my son Jacob – his grandson – Abraham’s descendents were as numerous as the stars in the heavens and the sands on shores of the sea (Gen. 15:18). But on that day, everything changed. Abraham returned to his servants, and they departed together for Beer-sheva. I left separately. I never talked to Dad after that. I was not with him again until my half-brother Ishmael and I laid his bones to rest at his funeral.

Abraham’s Story: A Father’s Regret

I know I was wrong. I hurt him so much. I tried to explain to him that I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt him. I should have stopped to think. I should have discussed it with Sarah. But I didn’t because I was so intoxicated with doing what I thought was right.

I swear I never touched him. What was I thinking? I was so impassioned with my own self-righteousness. I really might have killed my kid I hadn’t been stopped. Still, I never touched him. Without physical harm, you would think that the emotional scars would have healed by now. But now Isaac, my son, the one I love so, my Isaac won’t talk to me. He doesn’t read my letters or answer my calls…

Misunderstandings Abound: Relationships Destroyed

Relationships between parents and children are volatile and challenging. We think we are saying or doing the right thing but often, without thinking it through ahead of time, we often make things worse.

Did God really command Abraham to sacrifice his son as a burnt offering? Read the story closely. According to an 8th century commentary on Torah, Midrash Tanhuma, it all hinges on one word – olah. In the Torah, God said to Abraham v’haaleihu sham l’olah, bring up Isaac as an olah. The Hebrew word olah, comes from the root Ayin-Lamed-Hey, meaning, “to rise up.” Must olah here mean, “sacrifice,” as in the smoke of the sacrifice rises up? Or might it be connected rather to a more familiar word aliyah, also from the Hebrew root Ayin-Lamed-Hey, meaning “spiritual uplift?” In this reading, God only said, “raise up your son with an appreciation of your devotion to Me.” Perhaps Abraham was so dazzled to be speaking to God that he became confused. What if he misunderstood God’s intended purpose?

Rashi, an eleventh century Biblical commentator, also hangs his interpretation on the same word. He explains, perhaps God was saying, “When I said to you ‘Take your son’… I did not say to you, sh’chateihu, ‘slaughter him,’ but only ha’aleihu, ‘bring him up.’ Now that you have brought him up, introduce him to Me, and then take him back down” (Rashi on Gen 22:2). Instead of wanting Abraham to sacrifice Isaac, God really only wanted him to spend some spiritual “quality time” with his son. Had Abraham only slowed down to think it through, he might have spared himself, Isaac, and Sarah a significant amount of stress and pain.

Our Biblical Heritage: Volatile Parent-Child Relationships

What is it about fathers and sons, about mothers and daughters, that can be so painful, so volatile? Why is our Biblical text – the mirror to our souls – so littered with the remnants of once close relationships now destroyed?

Noah and his sons built an ark to replenish a new world cleansed of violence. Forty days later, with the world depending on their actions, Noah got drunk, enraged, cursed his sons, and brought hatred back into the world (Gen. 9:24). We seem to pass it down l’dor vador, from generation to generation. Isaac’s own son Jacob, so desperate for his father’s approval and love, and jealous of his father’s relationship with his twin brother Esau, took sibling rivalry to new heights. He stole his brother’s birthright inheritance, then fled Esau’s anger for forty years, never fully reconciling with his brother or his own guilt. Later, as a father, Jacob also played favorites by giving his beloved son Joseph that technicolored dream coat. And then young Joseph was sold off into slavery. Like his father and grandfather before him, Jacob failed to see the bitter jealousy and hatred that raged within his family.

Noted psychologists recognize that it is the nature of male familial relationships to be competitive and/or volatile. Mothers and daughters often bounce from intense closeness and heart-wrenching rejection. Of course, such tensions appear in all kinds of family relationships – among fathers and daughters, and mothers and sons too. None of us are immune.

The Or Ami Center for Jewish Parenting: Where Parents Turn for Guidance

At Congregation Or Ami, we take seriously the need to reexamine the relationships between parents and children. We understand that our children (and grandchildren) are growing up with pressures and challenges far surpassing those of our youth. The new Or Ami Center for Jewish Parenting aims to provide guidance and support for parents and grandparents as we navigate the uncharted waters of parenting.

There are few situations more uncomfortable yet central to parenting than trying to talk to and guide our children as they navigate the uncharted waters of their own sexuality. Encounters between parents and children over these issues greatly affect our children’s future self-esteem. We think we are doing or saying the right thing, but have we taken the time to (pre-)think it through? Done right, such discussions can draw us closer together. Mishandled, our relationships can begin to mirror those of Abraham, Sarah and Isaac, post-Akeda.
[Center for Jewish Parenting]

Sacred Choices: Thinking Through Teen Sexuality

In November 2007, the Or Ami Center for Jewish Parenting proudly invites Rabbi Laura Novak Winer, the Reform Movement’s leading teacher on teen sexuality, to advise us on two subjects:

Sacred Choices: Talking With Your Teens About Sex And Sexual Ethics. Monday, November 12, 7:30-9:00 pm. Adults Only. Gain insight and strategies on how to talk to your teen (or pre-teen or soon to be teen) about these important yet uncomfortable issues.

Hooking Up: Teens and Sex. Wednesday, November 14, 10:00-11:30 am. Adults Only. Beginning with a general overview of teen culture today and the challenges teens face, Rabbi Novak Winer helps us decipher and respond to the complex teen culture surrounding sexuality.

For 9th-12 Graders Only: Rabbi Laura Novak Winer will lead a special program on Sacred Choices for our older students. Wednesday, November 14, 6:30-8:00 pm. Participants must be Or Ami members, but need not be currently enrolled in Temple Teen Night. Non-TTN students must RSVP.

For 7th-8th Graders Only: Rachel Sisk, Regional Director of Informal Education and Youth, will lead a program for our younger teens on Sacred Choices. Wednesday, November 14, 6:30-8:00 pm. Participants must be Or Ami members, but need not be currently enrolled in Temple Teen Night. Non-TTN students must RSVP.

These sessions are geared to parents (and grandparents) of teenagers who are currently facing these issues, parents of pre-teens who are beginning to think about how to deal with these issues, and parents of younger children who want to lay the groundwork for future conversations, teachers, medical professionals, therapists and others who work with young people and want to better understand how Jewish values can inform their work, and anyone interested in deciphering the complex world to teen sexuality. For a taste of Rabbi Novak Winer’s teaching, listen to this recent podcast discussion with her Orthodox counterpart on teen sexuality.

Come reexamine the world of our teens and pre-teens. Gain valuable insights and go home with new strategies for how to navigate the minefield of the teenage years. Through the Or Ami Center for Jewish Parenting, we can improve upon the misunderstandings of the Biblical past as we map out new directions for our relationships with our kids.

[Listen to Rabbi Laura Novak Winer Discuss the Sacred Choices Perspective on Teen Sexuality]

Talkback

As always, I invite your thoughts.

• What successes have you had discussing sexuality with your teen?
• What questions do you have regarding talking to teens about sex?
• How do you react to this interpretation of the Binding of Isaac, that Abraham misunderstood God’s intent?

Our Intern Grew Up: Installation of Rabbi Alissa Forrest

Installation of Rabbi Alissa Forrest
As a Rabbi at Temple Isaiah of Lafayette, CA By Rabbi Paul J. Kipnes, Congregation Or Ami, Calabasas, CA October 11, 2007 * 1 Cheshvan 5768

It is an honor to be here tonight, to stand on the bimah of four esteemed colleagues, Rabbis Roberto Graetz and Judy Shanks, Cantor Leigh Korn and Educator Debbie Enelow, each one beloved and respected throughout the world of Jewish professionals for their wisdom, their warmth, their humility. Each possesses a gutta neshama, a good soul. Because of their leadership, and the partnership between them and your lay leaders, Temple Isaiah is highly regarded all over for your top notch religious school, your active youth group(the largest in the region), your incredible leadership development curriculum, for your strong adult learning programs, and for your openness to exploring new ways of being and doing Jewish. It is an honor to visit a synagogue about which I have heard so many outstanding stories.
It is also a pleasure to welcome Rabbi Forrest’s parents Linda and Richard. Spend some time getting to know them and you will understand quickly why Rabbi Forrest is so warm and approachable. You can tell a lot about how wonderful a person is from the wonderful friends they keep. So please welcome Rabbi Jocee Hudson, Rabbi Forrest’s classmate and friend, now Director of Religious Education at Temple Beth Sholom in Santa Ana. I transmit to you a heartfelt mazel tov from our Cantor Doug Cotler, whose father Ted Cotler was cantor here at Temple Isaiah (your library is named after Ted Cotler). Cantor Doug Cotler cut his cantorial teeth – or better, tuned his cantorial vocals – in this very community. Finally, I bring you greetings from Congregation Or Ami in Calabasas, CA for you and for Rabbi Forrest. Know that these greetings are bittersweet, because our congregation deeply admires your Alissa Forrest. In her three short years with us, they came to view our Intern Alissa Forrest as one of their rabbis. We all miss her. A story. A week before he travels up north to install a former intern as rabbi in her new congregation, a rabbi is talking with his son. The child, being inquisitive and exceedingly bright, peppers his father with questions. “Daddy, what is an installation?” The rabbi answers, “Remember when we redecorated the house and put down new floors? We say we installed the floors. Get it?” The son thinks it over and says, “Oh, an installation is when people get to put something down and they get to walk all over it.” Rabbi responds, “Well, yes, but no. We hope that by installing this new rabbi, people won’t be putting her down, but that she will lift them up spiritually. And we pray they won’t walk all over her either. Hmmm, try this. Remember when we bought that new computer program you love? First, we took the computer CD and put it in the disk drive. Then the program installed itself on the computer so you could play with it. Understand?” The son nods his head, “I remember that. It took you four tries to get it to work right, and you kept blaming the program. Is that what’s going to happen at this synagogue when you try to install her?” The rabbi, with a wry smile, answers, “Gosh I hope they won’t blame her every time something goes wrong. But this new rabbi is very intuitive and she’s really a team player. When things do go wrong, we hope they will turn to her in partnership so she can help figure out how to address the challenges.” Confused, the son asks, “Then Daddy, what is an installation?” The rabbi takes a deep breath and tries again. “Remember when we visited that new art exhibit at the Museum? In the weeks before the exhibit opened, the Museum workers installed the artwork.” The son smiles, “Oh, now I get it. An installation is when you make everything look nice so people can look at it but they don’t necessarily have to buy it.” Rabbi, exhausted now, responds, “Well, we hope that they will buy what the new rabbi has to say. She is very bright and thoughtful and her new congregation would do well to listen to her guidance.” “Then Daddy, I don’t get it.” begins the son. At which point the rabbi, having had enough, interrupts his son and telling him, “Go into the living room and install that new light bulb.” As the son walks out of the room, you could hear him whispering, “Ohhhhh, I get it now. To install the intern, turn clockwise.” In the three wonderful years I shared with your rabbi as our intern, I rarely turned her clockwise or counterclockwise. Rabbi Forrest, however, turned around so many programs at Congregation Or Ami. Creative beyond her years, particularly in the areas of community building, formal and informal Jewish education, and youth work, then Rabbinic Intern Alissa Forrest partnered with us to transform Or Ami in abiding ways. Our once tired post-B’nai Mitzvah program was reinvigorated by Rabbi Forrest who, in partnership with our educator, created the Temple Teen Night, an evening of socializing and study that has succeeded in ensuring that 85% of our B’nai Mitzvah students now continue to be involved in the congregation. Simultaneously, Rabbi Forrest created ex nihilo, out of nothingness, a new Saturday morning minyan and Torah study which, in partnership with our tutor, now involves B’nai mitzvah families, is developing committed lay readers, and infusing our congregation with even more Jewish spirituality, learning and warmth. There’s another memorable story in Torah this week: about Noah, the great flood, a multilayered ark, and a bunch of animals wandering around. One day God decides to transform the world and elects Noah to do it. God was investing in this person so much trust and such responsibility. Why did God choose Noah? About this, the Torah only hints. We read nothing about an executive search committee conducting interviews of potential leadership candidates. But we do find clues about what kind of leader we should turn to for guidance and direction. Torah refers to Noah as an ish tzadik, a righteous person. The Torah teaches us tamim hayah bedorotav – that Noah was “blameless in his generation” (Genesis 6:9). When we look for people to guide us, our standards should be equally high. As Rabbi Jonathan Blake writes: Who is Noah? Noah is every man and woman who will swim against the tide when the waves crest high. He is the kid who won’t bully the small boy at recess even when all his buddies are doing it; the shareholder who won’t take the insider tip even when everyone’s sharing. She is the prison guard in a faraway place who won’t join in the humiliation of the captives (and might even hold accountable those who do). He is testimony that God desires not perfection, but the will to strive for excellence. She is the hope that even when it looks like everyone is becoming corrupted, some are not. Some will not. Noah is you and I at our best, when we remember that the power to tarnish the soul, or to polish it, lies deep within every human being. He is, most of all, proof that Hillel’s advice is always timely: “In a place where there are no menschen (ethical people) strive to be a mensch (ethical person)”. You have chosen to welcome into your community Alissa Forrest – a leader, teacher, nurturer, programmer, spiritual being – a rabbi who like Noah lives ethically, strives toward excellence, and will guide you all – adults, teens, individuals, couples and families all – to attain the wholeness and greatness toward which God calls you. You, like God, made a wise choice. Now remember, at the time God installed him, Noah was a relative youngster, a mere 600 years old in a world where people lived to be more than 900. (Alas, we all were like that once. I remember fondly when my beard was black not white, when hair was, well, present.) Like Noah, Rabbi Forrest will fool you with her relative youthfulness. Those of you wise enough to look beyond her age, will turn to her for guidance and support, and will find a depth of wisdom and compassion borne out of experience counseling Jews recovering from addictions and supporting adults lying alone in their hospital beds. You will soon kvell as young families flock toward her enthusiasm for Judaism; teens seek out her genuineness; as each of you come to appreciate her as your teacher and confidante. You see, your rabbi is an isha tama, a righteous person, humble, thoughtful, spiritual. So learn from her. Treat her well. Give her time off to learn Torah. Make sure she has enough time to nurture a personal life. Send her off to Israel and study retreats to nurture her soul. Let her guide you with her innovative ideas. And enjoy. For she is truly amazing! A final story, which I learned from Rabbi Janet Marder. Back in the late 19th century, Rabbi Nathan Finkel headed a yeshiva in Slobodka, a small town in Lithuania. On cold, dark winter mornings, the rabbi used to get up early, cross over the bridge and go into town. He would stop off in all the shtibelech, all the little prayer houses and places of study, one after another. And in each small, dark room, he would light a fire in the oven and stoke the flames before continuing on his rounds. “Why did he do it” his closest friends would ask? And he would respond: “If all the prayer houses and places of study are warm early in the morning, then coachmen, porters and all kinds of people will come in to get warm – and then they will find themselves in a sacred place.” What does a good rabbi do? She helps make the synagogue a warm place — a refuge from the chilly indifference of the streets, the brutal competition of the marketplace, the casual cruelty of the playground – places where people are judged by how they look and how they perform and what they earn and who they know. A good rabbi makes the synagogue a sanctuary – a holy place, a safe and protected space, where people come in out of the cold. “They’ll come in to get warm,” said Rabbi Nathan, “and then they will find themselves in a sacred place.” It is warmth that brings people in – the comfort of finding friends and feeling at home; the knowledge that within these walls, within this place of Torah, a different ethic prevails; here we behave like a mensch: we treat one another with compassion and respect. Your new Rabbi, Alissa Forrest, radiates deep caring and kindness that lie at the core of her being. She understands the power of Rabbi Nathan’s lesson: Let people first get warm – and then they will turn to study, and begin to understand the meaning of a holy place. Remember that little boy in that first story said “to install intern as rabbi, turn clockwise.” I counsel something different. I invite you to turn, to turn your hearts toward Rabbi Forrest, as you do to Rabbis Shanks and Graetz, to Cantor Korn, to educator Enelow and to the rest of the staff. You see, your Rabbi Alissa Forrest is one of the up and coming bright young stars of our Reform movement. And you, Temple Isaiah, are making her one of your own. You should feel very, very proud. Mazel Tov.

Can We Pray That the Red Sox Win The World Series?

A young student stopped me at services to ask if we could pray to God that the Yankees would win the World Series. Clearly this was a ridiculous question from an unschooled, theologically naïve youngster. I had to keep from laughing at him. Of course, had he phrased his question differently, say, “Could we pray to God that the Red Sox would win the World Series?”, now that would be a serious inquiry worthy of our time, attention, and theological consideration.

As my daughter would type JKJK (just kidding). Yet as I sat in front of the television watching game 2 of the ALCS as the Cleveland Indians trounced the Red Sox in an 11 inning game, I caught my heart veering into a prayerful place. Can we pray to God that our favorite professional sports team will win? I turned to some rabbinic colleagues for their answers. Read on…

Rabbi #1: Yes, But…: Dr. Jerome Groopman, in Anatomy of Hope, said it’s good to hope for a miracle but not to count on it. To me, prayer is often a way to bolster our inner strength, and to set eyes on the ideal moral behavior. When it comes to baseball or serious illness, prayer seems to be a way to help us keep going in the face of sometimes insurmountable difficulties.

Rabbi #2: Why Waste Your Prayers?: My stock answer to such questions is, “If prayers work, which I hope they do, I wouldn’t waste them on weather or sporting events.”

Rabbi #3: That’s Not Why Jews Pray: [This question points to] what is the purpose and function of prayer in Judaism. My answer is that Judaism is far more of an Eastern religion than a Western religion, which is why they call it the Middle East, and not the Middle West. Eastern prayer utilizes prayer as Mantra, as a means to change the one who prays, not to change the mind and actions of G-d. Prayer is used to focus, so that we can transcend that moment and that place. Jewish prayer is sing-song and lends itself to movement and davening (moving back and forth while praying). Jewish prayer is meditative in order to transcend. The only line in the siddur (prayerbook) that one is supposed to actually think about as one says it is the shema. All else is rote, and therefore lends itself to being meditation that transcends. But that is, IMHO (in my humble opinion), the purpose and function of prayer in Judaism. Western (read Christian) prayer is “gimme-gimme-gimme-now-now-now,” the expression of what we want, need, as if G-d cannot know without our asking. Magic is defined as when something is recited, like an incantation, like a magic word like Ev-ra-K’adabrah (I will create as I will speak), which becomes abracadabra, and which forces the gods, or G-d, to act according to our will, my will, and thus changes G-d, rather than changing my will. Prayers like the Mi Shehbayrach, are meant, again IMHO, to express a hope, to state something out loud and thereby gain strength from it, inspiration from it, and not to force the hand of G-d to do my will. Can G-d respond to my prayer by changing G-d’s will, and do what I ask? Of course, that is up to G-d. But that is not, IMHO, why we Jews pray.

Rabbi #4: Does God Sit in Front of the TV on Sunday Afternoon, Remote Control in One Hand, Beer in the Other? Adapted from Rabbi Andy Vogel, Praying for the Ball to Go Through the Uprights: [From a football metaphor] …Does God really sit in front of the TV set on a Sunday afternoon, remote control in one hand, beer in the other, wearing His team’s colors, hoping, praying to… Himself (!) for a first down on the next play? If enough people pray, will God push the ball through the uprights, regardless of the skill of the placekicker? Or, to put it another way: Does God hear and answer our prayers in such simplistic terms? What is the point of thanking God after we get what we have prayed for? What can we expect from God? …

I’ve watched enough last-minute kicks to know that God does not always answer our prayers. God does not do what we want simply because we pray for it. That is what a child wants to believe. We do not get everything we ask for, like mailing in our wish list to Santa Claus at the North Pole. God is not mechanistic. God has God’s own plan, and that we may never know what it is…

The Jewish tradition depicts God as knowing everything. God knows all that we pray for, all that we want, all our desires. Why do we pray, then, if we know that God knows? Perhaps it is that we hope that someone, maybe God, is really out there listening. Perhaps it is that we feel the need to give concrete expression to what is deep inside our hearts. But as Rabbi David Wolpe has taught, God doesn’t need our prayers, but instead, “they are for us, so that we might connect to each other, to ourselves and to God.” [“Musings,” in the New York Jewish Week.] God knows what we want, but we need to voice it anyway – even if we think we don’t. But this question misses the (extra) point. The purpose of prayer is not necessarily “to get what we want.” To think so is to misunderstand the purpose of petitionary prayer, those prayers we say when we ask God for stuff…

The purpose of prayer is to take the opportunity to meet God, to unite our hopes with God’s plans. As Rabbi Lawrence Kushner and Rabbi Nechemiah Polen have taught: Prayer can be a time for us to say, “in effect, I now want what God wants… We don’t nullify our will, our desires, but we seek to unite them with God’s… The innermost desire of the worshiper is… to be with God, just as the innermost desire of God is to be with us.” [In The Amidah, p. 160.] That might mean, having the courage to accept when God’s will isn’t identical with our own. [Read Rabbi Vogel’s Complete Article]

Rabbi #5: Maybe, But God May Answer “No”: … the theological answer may be simply to pray to God that each baseball player play to the fullest of his potential; that he treat the game and his opponents with dignity and respect; that nobody gets injured in the course of the game; that the umpires have vision to call plays correctly; that the players have strength to hit the balls well; that the players are filled with the spirit of determination to do the best they can. And, if in the end, your team loses, it isn’t because God cursed them, or because life is unfair, but simply because the other team played better that game, and reached its potential better that series. (Although, perhaps God does hate the Yankees these days. . .) In general, when people ask if God hears prayers, I sometimes give the answer that I think [Rabbi] Harold Kushner [author of When Bad Things Happen to Good People] has shared: “God hears our prayers; God just doesn’t always say yes.” This may be effective for someone who has a deep and abiding faith in general, and is going through tough times. I don’t use this theology on those whose faith and belief are shaky to begin with, especially with matters of life and death, which baseball, of course, is not.

Rabbi #6: If You Pray That No One Is Injured: One night at services, the senior rabbi of my shul prayed for the Lakers to win. [A teenager] was so offended that he scheduled an appointment to speak to the rabbi. The God that he didn’t believe in, the teenager was sure, would not choose sides in a human endeavor of no moral import, and it trivialized the idea of God to ask God to do so. He would be OK with a prayer that no one be injured in the game and that both sides play their best, however. I think the original prayer had been somewhat jokingly offered, which more or less illustrates [the] point that it trivializes both the idea of God and the idea of prayer – no matter what team is involved!

Rabbi #7: Prayer Is Not Magic! [Adapted from Rabbi Harold Schulweis on Is Prayer Magic?: …To convince people about prayer, show that it’s a winner. Blaise Pascal the 17th century philosopher understood the bettor’s mentality. He devised a wager that contended that it is smarter to pray than not to pray: If there is a God and you pray to Him [sic], you’re going to get something. If there is a God and you don’t pray to Him, you’re going to lose something. If there is no God and you pray to Him, what have you got to lose? And that’s not a bad argument for religious gamblers. It may explain why in certain circumstances people still do pray. Who knows what people on the death bed may calculate that after all to pray now, who knows, there really may be a God and if not, what have they got to lose? But when we are healthy and normal and things are going all right prayer seems to be a waste of time and energy….

…We want prayer to work. In fact, for most people prayer is closest to magic. Magic is practical. You want certain results and you want to be able to get it. To get results there are certain formulas, certain chants, certain incantations and that magic is going to be a shortcut to your desire. In magic you have to use certain words. You have to say open sesame and only then will the cave open. If you forget the right word and use another word the cave will not open. There is a formula to magic, a name to magic – abbr cadabbra is a word that has a magic of its own. According to some scholars abbr cadabbra can be traced to a form of gnosticism and the word abbr cadabbra is made up of three words. The first word is “aba” which means father, the second is “bar” which means son and the third is “ruach” for the holy spirit. This word was written over and over again on a parchment in various geometric forms and folded into a cross. Abbr cadabbra is a talisman hung on a string around the neck of an afflicted person. Magic is formulaic, it is a shortcut and it has power. The magician has power and he has the wisdom to know the secret word that will give him that power. Significantly in Judaism God is nameless. God has no name. The name of God is ineffable. One cannot pronounce His name (4 consonants – tetra grammatic). The reason for that is that if you know the name of God, you think you can control God, you can manipulate God, you can use the formula of His name for any purpose that you want. But the namelessness of God, the fact that throughout the Bible Moses tries to find out what God’s real name is and God avoids telling him what it is. He gives him an enigmatic answer like “I am that I am”.

That illustrated the opposition, of Judaism to magic, sorcery, witchcraft, shortcuts to God. What has this digression to do with prayer? Everything. Magic is not prayer and prayer is not magic. In magic you are concerned with getting the end and you don’t care about the meaning or character of the means. Magic is impersonal. In prayer you have to be concerned with the means to achieve that end and those means that achieve the end invariably depend upon you, your attitude, your mind, heart and soul.

Let me give you an illustration. A child asks “Can I pray for an ‘A’?” That child is interested in the end and she expects that in prayer she can touch some secret occult power that will give her the result that she wants. So the proper answer to the question “can I pray for an ‘A’?” is “no”. You can pray properly for the means for getting that A. You have to pray to pray to that within you that can achieve that A. This is the beautiful prayer that we recite in the morning. “Imbue us with the will to understand, to discern, to hearken, to learn, to teach and to obey. To practice and to fulfill all the teachings of Thy Torah.” The child must be taught that prayer must be worthy. The worthy end is not getting the A. The important thing is the growth and learning for which you may receive a sign of accomplishment. Just get an A, just to get on the Dean’s list without any effort, without any growth, without any maturity, without any knowledge, is to miss the whole point of life and education. … [Such] prayers are not “worthship,” the original spelling and meaning of “worship.” …

You can’t pray for anything that you want. You can’t, for example, pray that this amputated limb should suddenly spring to life. You can pray for courage. You can pray for the acquisition of prosthetics. You can’t pray for things which violate the laws of logic or the laws of nature. You have to respect nature and nature’s laws.

…In prayer you pray to move God. But the way you move God is through moving the divine in yourself. If you divide God from the image of the divinity within you, if you separate the two, then you speak about moving God without it affecting you at all. You ask “can I move God”? without asking whether you can move yourself. You ask “does God listen to prayer?” instead of asking “am I listening to my prayer?”. All your questions are directed toward somebody totally other than yourself. But the purpose of prayer is to activate the godly in and between ourselves. To put it more bluntly, we cannot pray for anything that doesn’t call on us to do something whether it’s in terms of our attitude, our will, our energy or our intelligence. You can’t pray for health however earnestly by expecting God to say yes or no. To pray for health means that you take seriously the means and meaning of health. You can’t properly pray to God for health with a cigarette in your mouth or a hot pastrami sandwich in your hand. You can’t pray to God for peace with folded arms, crossed legs, and unopened hands. As Rav puts it in the Talmud “man’s prayer is not accepted unless he puts his heart in his hands” (Taanit 8a). Prayer is meant to move you, otherwise you depend upon magical thinking. You cannot pray for peace and do nothing about it. You cannot pray that God should love the Jewish people without expressing your love for the Jewish people, nor pray for the rebuilding of Israel without personal involvement.

Does prayer work? Only if you do. If you expect magical results it’s foolish to pray. Prayer works only if you are willing to work with it. It is dangerous to confuse prayer and magic. So when the child or yourself asks can I pray for anything, the answer really has to be thought out very carefully.[Read Rabbi Schulweis’ Complete Sermon]

Talk Back: What do you think?
  • Do you think it is appropriate to pray to God that your favorite sports team will win?
  • What do your husband/wife/partner, friend, parents, kids think?
Share your thoughts with me and with others. Log your thoughts on my blog by clicking below:

When It Comes to Genocide, You Can’t Split Hairs

When it comes to genocide, you can’t split hairs. Historically, we Jews have watched as others let their own self-interest take precedence over our safety. Now, as the tables are turned, as we face the opportunity of naming as genocide the 1915-1916 massacres by Ottoman forces against Armenians, we must speak truth to power. When it comes to genocide, you can’t split hairs…

Thankfully, the Jews are helping lead the way…
JTA reports today, In close vote on Armenian genocide, Jewish members deliver anguished “yeas” (10/12/2007 ).

Members of the U.S. House Committee on Foreign Affairs ignored party lines this week in a close vote Wednesday approving a resolution recognizing the massacres carried out in 1915 and 1916 by Ottoman forces against Armenians as a genocide. But the tally among Jewish members on the committee — all of them Democrats — was overwhelming: 7-1 in favor. Overall, the motion passed the committee in a 27-21 vote — 19 Democratic and 8 Republican in favor, 8 Democrats and 13 Republicans opposed — despite last-minute warnings from President Bush and his top aides that the resolution could harm U.S. relations with Turkey.

Lawmakers from both parties openly anguished, with some appearing to make up their minds only at the last minute. And, despite the overwhelming support of Jewish committee members for the resolution, nowhere was the anguish more palpable than in the comments of some of these lawmakers, as they struggled to balance their Holocaust-related sensitivity to the issue of recognizing genocide and concern for maintaining strong ties with Turkey, a friendly pro-American pro-Israeli Muslim beacon in a hostile neighborhood.

E-Mail Is Easy to Write (and to Misread)

We have been explaining for years that email, a very helpful tool, is very unhelpful for working through areas of conflict. At Or Ami, our staff understands that because of the inability to read emotions into emails, they are never allowed to respond by email to those who express by email their anger, frustration or other serious emotions. Those contacts require a personal phone call where our concern and caring can come through by intonation as well as by words.

At home, we tell our teens, over and over again, not to use email or chats to talk through the “drama of teen years” with their friends. We encourage them to pick up the phone when problems arise.

Journalist Daniel Goleman, in the New York Times, got it right with is article, E-Mail Is Easy to Write (and to Misread) (October 7, 2007). In it, he argues that There are ways in which e-mail may subtly encourage trouble and strained communication.

This article should be required reading for workers, employers, teens… everyone!

Just Two Weeks After Yom Kippur and I’m Already Sinning Again

I confess. It has only been two weeks since Yom Kippur and, oops, I did it again. I sinned. And I feel bad. It happened here in Calabasas around the corner from A.C. Stelle Middle School on Friday, October 5th, at about 3:15 pm.

I was making my way home when I turned off the main road. I immediately found myself negotiating my way through a narrow passage between SUVs lining both sides of the street as they waited to pick up carpools. I watched the steady stream of cars driving down one street veering left and right to avoid the children crossing mid-street.

There in the street stood a woman, leaning toward the window of a big SUV, having a conversation. After observing a few cars swerve around her, I came to believe that she was endangering herself and others by standing in the road. I opened my window and called out, “Could you move to the other side of the car? By standing there you are making it unsafe for our kids.” She and the woman in the driver’s seat of the SUV looked strangely at me and said, “What?” I repeated my concern, “Standing in the street, you are making it unsafe for our kids and yourself. The cars are swerving…” She looked at me again, pondered what I said, and called out, “Shut Up!”

With cars now lining up behind me, I continued forward. I was irritated. My first impulse was to pull off to the side, park and walk back to talk to her. What kind of a response was “Shut Up!”? I wanted to rebuke her for her crassness. Our Torah teaches us (Leviticus 19:18), “Tochecha – You shall surely rebuke your neighbor, and not bear sin because of her.” I only wanted to protect the kids and to ensure that we were all safe. I wanted to protect her too. I didn’t want anyone to be killed by a swerving car.

“Shut Up!” She Called Out

Was that civil conversation? Is this the kind of response one would want their kids overhearing?

The impulse to shake it off won out over the impulse to talk it through. I had two boys at home, waiting (im)patiently for dad to arrive home for a game of catch. Nothing good could come out of a conversation between a do-gooder (as I thought I was) and a woman who responded with “Shut Up”. It is just as the Talmud explains: Rabbi Tarfon said, I wonder if there is anyone in this generation who knows how to accept reproof, for if one says to another: Remove the chip of wood from between your eyes, he would answer: [No, you] remove the beam from between your eyes! (Arakhin 16b) So off I drove, home to my kids.

My Heart Wasn’t Fully into Playing Catch

I kept returning to the concluding line of the Talmud passage, Rabbi Eleazar ben Azariah said: I wonder if there is anyone in this generation who knows how to give reproof. Had I been inappropriate with my comments? Regardless of intent, had I somehow transgressed the bounds of appropriate critique? After all, didn’t Rashi, the 11th century commentator, warn us, Though rebuking him, you should not publicly embarrass him, in which case you will bear sin on account of him. Had I embarrassed her by calling out my critique in front of her conversation partner and the other people – kids included – who were standing around on the sidewalk? I was so lost in thought that I missed a few perfectly thrown balls. When one throw narrowly missed bonking me in the noggin, I realized that I had to get my head back in the game.

But I stewed. Why had she reacted so strongly? I remembered a line from 12th century Maimonides, One who rebukes another, whether for [personal] offenses or for sins against God, should administer the rebuke in private, speak to the offender gently and tenderly and point out that he is only speaking for the wrongdoer’s own good… (Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot De’ot 6:7). Was there enough gentleness or tenderness in my voice? Or had I been frustrated by this continual back-up on the road home? Did I smile as I shared my concerns or did I have a scowl on my face? Did I say “please”? I was beginning to believe that in my attempt to help others I had somehow harmed this anonymous woman.

Drive-By Criticism

My friend Rabbi Alan Henkin reminds us regularly of the Talmudic caution (Yevamot 65b), Rabbi Ilea said in the name of R. Eleazar son of R. Shimon: Just as one is commanded to say that which will be heard, so one is commanded not to say that which will not be heard. As it is written, “Do not rebuke a scoffer, for he will hate you; reprove a wise man and he will love you.” (Proverbs 9:8). Was this woman just a “scoffer”, one who expresses disdain about everything? I really didn’t know anything about her. Perhaps her child was struggling in school and she was asking advice about how to handle the situation. Perhaps she spent a horrible morning in the hospital, caring for a family member, and now, emotionally exhausted from trying to “hold it together,” she inadvertently lashed out. Was her marriage in trouble and just at that moment, she was sharing her fears for the first time with a friend? I know that if I were in emotional turmoil, I would not react kindly to any kind of rebuke. Especially from someone shouting drive-by criticism.

With this new perspective, I started feeling a little guilty for being so public about my rebuke, wishing I had taken the time to address the problem privately. Yet, at the same time, I am still stinging from her two word response: “Shut Up!” And I know that she was making it unsafe for her, for other drivers and for the students.

Talkback

As I grapple with this issue, I would love to hear you weigh in:

  • What is your reaction to my critique and to her response?
  • Are these issues “black and white”? If not, where is the grey?
  • Do you agree with Maimonides’ instructions that we should “administer the rebuke in private, speak to the offender gently and tenderly, and point out that [we are] only speaking for the wrongdoer’s own good”?
  • How do you react to Rabbi Ilea’s caution that “one is commanded not to say that which will not be heard”?

As always, I invite your insights and comments.

The Insanity of Energy Efficiency Politics

Thomas Friedman, of the New York Times, points out the insanity of Energy Efficiency politics. He writes:

What is it about Michigan that seems to encourage assisted suicide? That is all I can think watching Michigan congressmen and senators, led by Representative John Dingell, doing their best imitations of Jack Kevorkian and once again trying to water down efforts by Congress to legislate improved mileage standards for Detroit in the latest draft energy bill….What I don’t get is empty-barrel politics — Michigan lawmakers year after year shielding Detroit from pressure to innovate on higher mileage standards, even though Detroit’s failure to sell more energy-efficient vehicles has clearly contributed to its brush with bankruptcy, its loss of market share to Toyota and Honda — whose fleets beat all U.S. automakers in fuel economy in 2007 — and its loss of jobs. G.M. today has 73,000 working U.A.W. members, compared with 225,000 a decade ago. Last year, Toyota overtook G.M. as the world’s biggest automaker.Thank you, Michigan delegation! The people of Japan thank you as well.But assisting Detroit’s suicide seems to be contagious. Everyone wants to get in on it, including Toyota. Toyota, which pioneered the industry-leading, 50-miles-per-gallon Prius hybrid, has joined with the Big Three U.S. automakers in lobbying against the tougher mileage standards in the Senate version of the draft energy bill.Now why would Toyota, which has used the Prius to brand itself as the greenest car company, pull such a stunt? Is it because Toyota wants to slow down innovation in Detroit on more energy efficient vehicles, which Toyota already dominates, while also keeping mileage room to build giant pickup trucks, like the Toyota Tundra, at the gas-guzzler end of the U.S. market? “Toyota wants to keep its green halo and beat G.M. in the big trucks, too,” said Deron Lovaas, vehicles expert at the Natural Resources Defense Council. “As the world’s largest automaker and inventor of the best-selling hybrid car, Toyota has a responsibility to lead, follow or get out of the way as Congress debates the first substantial fuel-economy boost in decades. Shamefully, Toyota has joined forces with older automakers that are getting their lunch handed to them in the marketplace, in part because they’ve consistently shunned fuel efficiency.”

Read on

Haunting, Horrific, Uncomfortable: Why this Sculpture Sits Outside My Office

“Rabbi, this scuplture is so haunting! It is a downer – definately NOT Or Ami.” Many have commented on how uncomfortable the “Sudanese Mother and Child” sculpture makes them feel. That’s exactly why it sits in our foyer, outside the Rabbi’s office.

The horrors of the Darfurian genocide should make us all uncomfortable. We, who grew up in the shadow of the Holocaust, should be reminded daily of our responsibility to help victims and to push for an end to this conflict.

Sculptor John McManus has done two tours in Vietnam, coming home with a Purple Heart. He found inspiration for his work from starving black children in Biafra, from his personal experiences in Vietnam, and from his six year old little Jewish charge who died of lupus. As a catalyst for freedom from memories of the painful emotions he carries, his gifted hands spell out the haunting expression of war and suffering, culminating in “gentleness and love.”

This sculpture adorns the Jewish World Watch tzedakah can, our websites, and has been present at every Jewish World Watch lecture. It serves as a constant reminder of the work that we need to do. To find out how you can help, contact our Jewish World Watch liaison Laurie Tragen-Boykoff or visit the Jewish World Watch website.

How Do You Do a Bar Mitzvah in the Dark?

Did I tell you about the Bar Mitzvah service held on the 112 degree day? And then the lights went out! The Jewish Journal posted my article The Shabbat the Lights Went Out in Calabasas. Read on…

Our synagogue’s name, Or Ami, means “Light of My People.” The name reflects our hope to shine brightly the values and lessons of Torah and Jewish spirituality into our little corner of the world. We are a community of individuals who each carry the light as far as they can.

But a funny thing happened to young Jeffrey Rosenberg on his way to becoming a bar mitzvah on Sept. 1 — the lights went out all over town. Nevertheless, the boy took his first steps by candlelight on the road to becoming a man, and in the process, taught us all what it really meant to be a bar mitzvah.

Lessons Learned While Sweating Profusely

It was hot day in Calabasas. The thermometer was topping out at 112 degrees.

As Jeffrey Rosenberg’s parents came to accept that they would have to forgo the family tradition of watching their child read Torah in their backyard (both sisters Jill and Lynn had given their parents much nachas [joy] at their backyard simchas), we made the decision to move his bar mitzvah service back into our Mureau Road synagogue.

It did not take long to realize how amazing this bar mitzvah experience would be. I sat with Jeffrey and his dad Richard as the decision was finalized. I offered support and counsel to the teen.

I said, “You see, perhaps there is a lesson here on what it means to become a man. When disappointments happen…”

“We need to accept them and find a way to move on,” Jeffrey concluded, without missing a beat.

It was then that I caught a glimpse of why this child, yet to read Torah, had already made the transition onto the path to becoming a man. Just four hours before his ceremony was scheduled to begin, when plans envisioned for more than a year were being upended by devastating heat, this amazing boy found it within himself to wax philosophical.

I arrived at the synagogue early to ensure everything was set: chairs arranged, siddurs laid out, air conditioning set low and working. Jeffrey’s family arrived soon after to snap a few photographs. Although harried by the change in venue, all expected everything to run smoothly from there.

Not five minutes later — a mere 30 minutes before the ceremony was to start — the electricity cut out. With it went the lights, the Ner Tamid (Eternal Light above the Ark) and the air conditioning.

As the Darkness Descended, New Lights Shined

What do you do when Torah needs to be read, but the sanctuary is dark?

Break out the candles.

A yahrtzeit memorial candle was placed above the Ark as our makeshift Ner Tamid, reaffirming God’s presence among us. Rows of votive candles, originally set aside for an upcoming meditational Selichot service, illumined the bimah podium. After a guest returned from the local Albertsons, warm light and sweet fragrance wafted forth from scented tea candles placed on aluminum foil in the aisles. Cantor Doug Cotler’s wife Gail brought over a few more flashlights and a battery-operated lantern so the Torah could be read without worrying about dripping wax.

Guests arrived to a sanctuary that glowed. Delicious hibiscus-flavored lemonade arrived from the caterer to quell our growing thirst. Cantor Cotler and I huddled together to discuss which prayers and songs could be passed over in anticipation of the rising warmth.

Setting a High Bar at the Bar Mitzvah

I looked around for Jeffrey, figuring any 13-year-old might need some calming words as he contemplated chanting Torah by candlelight. Calling out a refrain heard many a time during his wandering-filled life — “Where’s Jeffrey?” — I discovered him smiling happily, posing for pictures and hanging out with relatives and friends. Dark room, air conditioning out, still this kid did not even break a sweat. On this Shabbat, Jeffrey set a high “bar” for maturity at his bar mitzvah, ensuring that we too took it all in stride.

At the last moment, I opened the Ark just to make sure that the Torah was properly rolled. I was met with a gush of cool air. I called over Cantor Cotler and then the bar mitzvah boy. Each experienced the same rush of air. The Ark was the coolest place in the room. As a rabbi, I recall saying that “the words of Torah warm the heart”; I now learned how “cool” Torah really could be.

Jackets removed, we all settled in for a meaningful, though somewhat abbreviated service. Just as the first sounds emerged from the cantor’s guitar, an amazing thing occurred: the electricity — and with it the lights, the Ner Tamid and the air conditioning — miraculously popped back on. Looking back, it was as if God was saying, “Lesson learned. Proceed to manhood.”

Perhaps wanting to enjoy the lemonade we made from lemons, Jeffrey requested that we keep the lights off. And so we did, basking in the unique aura of spirituality created by the candles. He even whispered that we should say all the prayers now that there was no rush.

Jeffrey led us from Chatzi Kaddish through Silent Prayer with confidence and comfort. The room filled with melodies of songs sung, aliyot chanted and sniffles as tears were shed. In the midst of Jeffrey’s d’var Torah (speech), the electricity cut out again. Except for the fact that two pages were out of order in his speech, nothing could trip Jeffrey up. His mother, Katie, and dad, Richard, couldn’t have been prouder.

Blessings for an Amazing Bar Mitzvah Boy

At each bar or bat mitzvah service, I especially look forward to standing before the Ark for a private moment of blessing with the student. Each blessing I craft especially for each individual, taking into account each student’s bar/bat mitzvah process, life challenges, and my hopes for his/her future. I also remind the students that when they began the process, they couldn’t read Hebrew, never read from Torah and were anxious about the path ahead. Now with the service all but concluded, they learned the supreme lesson of becoming a bar/bat mitzvah: that when they put their minds to it, nothing is beyond their reach. Parents and friends often ask what we talk about before the Ark; usually the student and I cherish these words as our own confidential conversation of holiness.

Standing there before the Ark with Jeffrey, I found myself momentarily at a loss for words. What meaningful words could any rabbi possibly say to a young man who never broke a sweat as he faced down multiple challenges?

So I asked him, “How do you think you did?”

Jeffrey nodded his head nonchalantly and answered, “Pretty good.”

I responded, “Yup, you are a bar mitzvah now.” And the words of blessing flowed easily from there.

How Does Being a Synagogue Member Make My Life Better?

I invited a former synagogue member – a wonderful and very pleasant person – to rejoin the synagogue after a few years away. She said she had thought about it and wondered “How would being a member make my life better….or different?”

I thought about her question a lot and struggled. I’m wondering how YOU would answer. My answer was:

Depends on what you mean by “better”.

If you mean physically healthier, it won’t… Join a gym.

If you mean more beautiful physically, it won’t, go to Nordstroms or a make up artist or…

If you mean richer, it won’t, get a higher paying job.

If you mean more mentally stable, it won’t, go to a shrink.

If you mean more knowledgeable, it won’t, take a class at Pierce.

If you mean… Then go …

But being part of a synagogue allows you to be part of a larger community… of YOUR people.

Being part of a synagogue means promulgating values that your tradition, and you, hold dear.

Being part of a community is like ensuring that your “room” is still there even if you go away to college. You can always come home. Or if you are an adult, you can not show up but we are still here.

Being part of a community teaches future generations that being a Jew matters, even if you aren’t a power user of the synagogue at the moment.

Being part of a community means that there will always be high holy day services for you and the community.

…That you have a place to turn if you are in need.

…That there is always Torah in your community

…That you have a spiritual home.

…That your values are played out through social justice

…That you have a place to go to sing Mi Shebeirach…

…That Israel has an advocate in the community.

…That you take responsibility for the next generation, like the previous one did for yours.

Its not about money, because everyone can join regardless of wealth or lack of money. Its about commitment to community.

We live in a world that speaks of consumer values. What do I get if I pay. Judaism is a people/religion/nation/culture/ethnicity/more that transcends that, asking what will being part of a community do for OUR world, ALL people, OUR people, OUR community. That’s how I think and its how I want my children to think.

If it is how you want to think, come home. If not, home will still be here for you if you ever decide you want to come home.

(Oh, and Judaism, synagogue and community can make you more beautiful because you feel better about yourself when you are spiritually centered. You will be richer because you will have enriched your life and those of others. You will be smarter because you will be able to partake in 5000 years of Jewish knowledge. You will be mentally more stable because you will have adjusted the balance of the mind, body, spirit. Of course all this presupposes that not only do you join but you also connect in and come.)

So, that’s my answer. The shofar’s in your court…

Burning Man: Nevada Desert Festival Sheds Light on Sukkot


Jewish Journal’s Rob Eshman captures the excitement of Sukkot as he reflects on Burning Man:

I have perfectly normal, respectable friends — doctors, producers, financiers — who every year slip into something more comfortable and head down to Burning Man. About 25,000 gather for one week each year in Nevada’s Black Rock Desert to create “an experimental community.” “You have to come,” they say each year, and each year I look at their photos from a week spent in the Nevada desert in the baking sun with thousands of strangers into everything from Druid solstice worship to group hug camps and tell them, “Um, no thanks.” Part of me can think of nothing I’d rather do than take a break from my professional and familial duties and watch aging and wannabe hippies do naked yoga in the Nevada sun — one must always expand one’s horizons. Read on…