Parshat Vayeshev or You can change the world

What does it take to change the path of someone’s life?  Can a chance interaction change the world or your life?

Looking at this week’s parsha, we see this happen explicitly.  Jacob makes what seems like an absolutely terrible decision.  He sends his self-centered, egotistical son, Yosef out to look for his brothers.  Yosef/Joseph has been spoiled rotten by Jacob, built up his ego through his dreams of lording over his brothers and made the tragic mistake of sharing his conceit with them!  As Joseph goes along his way, he meets an unnamed man.

Genesis 37

14  And he said to him, "Go and see how your brothers are and how the flocks are faring, and bring me back word." So he sent him from the valley of Hebron. When he reached Shechem, 15 a man came upon him wandering in the fields. The man asked him, "What arc you looking for?" 16 He answered, "I am looking for my brothers. Could you tell me where they are pasturing?" 17 The man said, "They have gone from here, for I heard them say: Let us go to Dothan." So Joseph followed his brothers and found them at Dothan.

The commentators wonder about the man’s identity, wondering if he is an angel, setting in motion everything that comes afterwards.  Just think, if Joseph hadn’t found his brothers, he might have gone home.  He wouldn’t have been captured and thrown in a pit.  He wouldn’t have been threatened with death.  He wouldn’t have been sold into slavery, found himself in Potiphar’s house, or prison or into Pharoah’s court.  There would be no success in Egypt and no slavery.  There would be no escaping slavery, no wandering in the desert, perhaps even no Torah?!  All because of a chance encounter.

Looking online for other such examples, I found thousands of results.  I discovered the story of Sir Nicholas Winton, a London (Jewish) stockbroker who helped rescue 669 children on the eve of WWII by bringing them to the UK.

Winton's story begins in 1938 in London, where he was a 29-year-old stockbroker enjoying the good life. The son of German-Jewish immigrants, he had been following the rise of Hitler and the Nazis and knew they were on the march. He was convinced war was imminent. Hitler's troops had just marched into Czechoslovakia and occupied the region known as the Sudetenland, creating the war's first refugee crisis. At least 150,000 people had fled to makeshift refugee camps that sprang up around Prague. The conditions they faced were dire.

When a friend suggested that Winton cancel his annual ski trip and join him in Prague to see what was going on, Winton decided to use his vacation days and go. The situation he encountered was desperate. Efforts by organizations trying to help refugees were hampered by the fact that most countries in Europe weren't willing to take them in. Winton also told us he wrote to President Roosevelt asking the U.S. to receive them, to no avail.

Parents were frantically trying to get their children out, so Winton decided to focus his efforts on helping those children. He had no background or experience in dealing with refugees, but was about to take on the Nazis and the British bureaucracy in a remarkable feat of skill, determination and cunning. During the few days he was in Prague, Winton laid the groundwork for an organization to transport children to Britain on trains. He identified people willing to help, met with parents determined to get their children out, and started making lists of children whose parents wanted them to go.

When he returned to London, he set up a fake organization, appointed himself chairman, put his mother to work running a small office, and began negotiations with the British government for permission to bring unaccompanied minors into England. Meanwhile, he looked for families to take them in. He raised money, paid bribes, procured transit papers and, when necessary, forged documents. When Bob Simon asked him about all of that he was unapologetic -- saying simply, "It worked." http://www.cbsnews.com/news/proof-that-one-person-can-make-a-difference/

We can think of Steve Jobs, Jonas Salk, Albert Einstein, Isaac Newton, who took what they saw around them and revolutionized the world.  Yet they did not work in a vacuum.  They had great ideas, but worked with others, built on the ideas of others.  There are a million unnamed individuals who helped them along the way.  

Thinking about my life, I can think of many moments when the right encounter makes a difference.  I think back to being five years old and being asked to read the Song for Shabbat at Friday night services--giving me a role in our tradition.  Or when I was asked to lead services as a teenager, giving me ownership in my Jewish education.  I think about my Talmud hevruta, Rabbi Eve Eichenholtz, who made sure that I met Rebecca at Simchat Torah at JTS.  She also gave Rebecca a place to stay for Shabbat and helped arrange our “first date”.  Without those encounters, I would not be where I am today.  In your lives, think about how you met important people in your life.  How many of those interactions were planned or depended upon others?  How did a chance encounter turn into a lifelong friendship or relationship?  Think about camp or college, places where prolonged contact encourages deep and lifelong friendships.

When I do chaplaincy, I cannot tell you how often I walk into the room and someone says “Chaplain-Thank Gd you are here.  I just heard xyz and I don’t know what to do.”  (There are lots of visits that are far more boring, but quite a few feel life-changing.)  

I also think about moments of kindness.  The simplest things, the smallest gestures can change someone’s life.  You don’t know where someone’s mind is.  By offering someone a tissue, a dollar, a meal at the right moment, you can help walk them off a ledge, or inspire them to a new idea.  For Dear Abby and some others, seeing a penny on the ground with a family member’s birth year can be a sign from heaven, a moment of comfort in a challenging world.

In your siddur, on p. 69, the text at the top of the page, Sukkah 49b opens with some very powerful words--I’ll read them so you don’t have to open your books yet.

וא"ר אלעזר

כל העושה צדקה ומשפט כאילו מילא כל העולם כולו חסד שנאמר (תהלים לג, ה) אוהב צדקה ומשפט חסד ה' מלאה הארץ

Rabbi Elazar said: Whoever does deeds of charity and justice is considered as having filled the world with loving-kindness, as it is written: “Gd loves charity and justice; the earth is filled with Hashem’s loving-kindness” (Psalm 33:5)

( Siddur Sim Shalom for Shabbat and Festivals, 1998, p. 69)

We cannot always know the impact of our choices, but our choices have impact.  We can be cynical, imagining we have no control over the world, yet we do.  In our crazy country, we talk about elections more than we talk about governing.  This is a consequence of our actions and our choices, yet there are tremendous consequences in our choice of politicians.  The next president will likely choose some new supreme court justices--that alone is a reason to vote!  We have a long time before we need to make these choices, but we must. We may be one in three hundred and seventeen million people in this country, but many of them do not vote.  It is our civic and human responsibility.  Abdicating our responsibility is a grace choice with grave consequences!  So a year early, I tell you, don’t forget to vote.

Again, on a personal level, we cannot forget the impact we have.  There are teachers in my life at every level who inspired me to continue and excel in my studies.  There are friends and family and neighbors who helped me discover the rabbinate.  Each and every one of you allows me and pushes me to do the work that I do.  How are you helping your friends, your family, your neighbors?  How are you lending a helping hand?  How are you filling the world with righteousness and loving-kindness?  The unnamed man is Parshat Vayeshev reminds us that every interaction is an opened door, which can lead us to uncharted waters, but if we do not reach out, we shut those doors.  As we look into the week to come, what doors will you open?  

Shabbat Shalom!

Showing up

At our last board meeting we discussed the power and importance of attending funerals and shiva, even if we don't have a strong connection to the deceased or the mourners.  I found this article today that discusses the funeral of Ezra Schwartz, the young man murdered in Israel this past week. The author writes about attending the funeral and the power of being there, even when the weather is poor and the connection to the deceased is tenuous. 

http://www.kveller.com/my-family-traveled-almost-9-hours-for-ezra-schwartzs-funeral-heres-why/?utm_medium=social&utm_source=fb&utm_content=kveller&utm_campaign=ezra-schwartzs-funeral

There is great power in being part of a community. Participating in celebrations of life and commemorations of those no longer with us are one way we demonstrate to the world and ourselves the ties that bind. 

Wishing you all a very Happy Thanksgiving.  May your time with those you love re-inspire you to continued connection with G-d and holy community. 

Are we talking about life or death?

The parshah entitled Hayay Sarah opens with the death of the title character.  It ends with the death of Avraham and the line of Ishmael.  In between we have the shidduch and marriage of Yitzhak and Rivkah.  One could go the easy route and say the parsha is named because the first significant words are “Hayay Sarah,” but I think there is more to the name.

As a people of books, of manuscripts, of letters, we are a people of words.  We have rules of how to speak to each other, of how to write to each other, and even what words we can use of each other.  The Hafetz Hayim’s fame began when he wrote a book on how best to speak to one another, how to prevent libel and even gossip.  In Pirkei Avot, we are taught that when we cite someone’s words b’shem omro, in the name of the person that spoke them, we bring about the redemption of the world.  Before the creation of copyright law, Hebrew books often had extensive curses on the one who might reprint material without the permission of the author or original publisher.  Words are important to Jews.

When we speak about death in Jewish communities, we often avoid the subject directly.  We might hear someone is “niftar” or has departed to their eternal home.  We speak of olam haba, the world to come, or Gan Eden, the Garden of Eden.  Cemeteries rarely have the word cemetery in them.  In some communities, they are called “Gates of Life” or some such euphemism (just as in the Talmud when it says an evil person is blessed, it really means cursed!)

In our parshah, twenty verses discuss the negotiation of a burial place for Sarah, but sixty-seven discuss the betrothal and wedding of Rivkah and Yitzhak.  I was reminded recently of the debate in the Talmud about when a funeral procession and a wedding procession meet at an intersection, who gets priority?  The answer is the wedding procession, just as it seems in this parshah--in Judaism, we spend our lives thinking about life, not death.

In my mind, the parshah was named deliberately, Hayay Sarah is about Sarah’s legacy.  It is about how the good she did during her life translated into the good of her children.  Her husband took care of her remains, lovingly, and then ensured that she lived on, by arranging Yitzhak’s marriage and ensuring grandchildren.

After Avraham ensured his son’s legacy, he looked towards his own happiness.  He married again and had more children, yet was careful to make sure that Yitzhak gained his actual inheritance, his spiritual legacy.  Rashi notes that his second wife was actually his first mistress, Hagar.  Perhaps she was renamed to demonstrate her new potential and new covenant with God, just like Avraham and Sarah.

It is telling that the penultimate section of the parshah is the temporary reunification of Yitzhak and Yishmael.  Having the two sons bury their father, together, demonstrates how death can interact with life, creating the family reunions that we neglect to plan.

Concluding with Yishmael’s descendants teaches that God’s promises are fulfilled.  Just as Yitzhak’s descendants complete God’s promises to Avraham, Yishmael’s descendants complete God’s promises to Hagar.

All in all, just as the parshah is entitled, we speak of life, not death.  This is truly for the best.

Over the last three weeks, I have discussed the practices and observance of Shabbat in a series of classes.  In the weeks, to come I will be meeting on Tuesday nights (with the exception of the Interfaith Thanksgiving, to look at some texts from the Talmud, to discover what Talmud is and to look at the intimate discussions and relationships which continue to shape our lives today.  Simply put, as Jews, even more than the Bible, the Talmud is the source that deals with our daily lives, and yet for many of us, it is a text with which we are almost wholly unfamiliar.  We are not biblical Jews, not Karaites, but rabbinic Jews.  Discussing EVERY subject under the sun from the ratio of pi, to whether it is ok to shave your body hair, to what sacrifices would we offer if the Temple were in existence, to love, marriage, divorce, what we eat, how to sleep, what to do with our lives and so on and so on and so on.  The debates reveal differing schools of thought on biblical interpretation and human interactions.  To give one powerful example we discussed over the last three weeks, the Torah says in the Ten Commandments Observe and Keep the Shabbat.  It tells us not to work on Shabbat or Festivals, yet never clearly defines what work is.  The Talmud then has two books entirely devoted to how one can keep Shabbat.  

In my rabbinate, what I strive to teach is that every moment is an opportunity for life and for Jewish choices.  Some people don’t quite follow the complicated debates of the Talmud. Why do they get so nitty gritty?  Why are they focused on every little detail?  Don’t they have anything better to do?  In my daily study I sometimes get bogged down with texts that seem less relevant to my life--yet I try to push on.  Why?  Because what the rabbis were doing was struggling with all of the big questions.  Life isn’t lived just in the theoretical.  It’s lived in all of the individual daily moments--the crazy moments, the good moments, the bad moments.  The moments when we hear bad news and the ones where we celebrate.  Life is the nitty gritty.  I invite you to join with me in the next few weeks--argue with me and we will learn together!

Lech Lecha 2015 5776

Rabbi Philip Weintraub

Congregation Agudas Israel

10/24/2015

Parshat Lech Lecha

What is a covenant? What does it mean to join a community?  What’s the buy in?  To grow, do we want low barriers for engagement or higher barriers to push for more lasting commitments?

In Parshat Lech-Lecha, Abraham faces one of the highest of all barriers, circumcision.  He marks the covenant not just as a sign upon his body, but upon the organ of procreation, an organ which is particularly sensitive and about which men are particularly sensitive.  Just mentioning circumcision, men start wincing and wiggling in their seats.  Yet as the sign of the covenant between God and Abraham, between God and the Jewish people, it remains to this day.  Even the children of Ishmael, Muslims continue to practice circumcision, reminding us of one connection between our sometimes distant and too often violent family relationship.

Since August I have been studying Tractate Nazir, which focuses not surprisingly on the Nazir.  What is a Nazir?  A Nazir is someone who has made a vow (usually for a set period of time, minimum one month) to abstain from wine, liquor or any grape products, allow his or her hair to grow without cutting it, and to avoid contact with corpses or graves--staying away from hospitals and funerals--even for family members.  Interestingly, at the end of the designated vow period, she or he would immerse in a mikvah and offer three sacrifices, a burnt offering, a sin offering and a peace offering, as well as the sacrificial sides--bread, grain and wine offerings.  They would also shave their heads and burn their hair with the peace offering--as explained in Numbers chapter 6 and elaborated upon in the Mishnah and Talmud.  Rabbinic commentaries are split about Nazirite vows--are they good or bad?  Are they living up to some Jewish ideal or are they failing by denying themselves the goodness of God’s creation?  Is their sin offering because they should remain as Nazirim forever or because we really should never make oaths (as we learn at Kol Nidre)?

As I read about these two covenants, I think about our own community.  Communal research offers two radically different proposals for improving community--low barriers and higher ones.  One suggests that the best way to welcome people is to make it very easy.  You show up, you are in.  It seems easy, but the low barriers do not necessarily encourage strong support of the community, if a better offer arrives, then people switch!  How much loyalty do you feel to your cable or cell phone company--if you could get better service or a better deal, would you switch?  Of course you would!  Another suggests that encouraging people to participate is not enough. Shuls are not commodities or businesses, but communities.  Long term connections, real membership require long term efforts.  To be a community is not only to pay dues or to show up once in awhile, but to make a regular effort, to participate.  Don’t get me wrong, I am incredibly grateful to those who affiliate without regular participation, we cannot exist without them--but my goal here is to encourage all to see the real benefits of truly living as a community.  

As such, we have to do both.  We need engaging programs that get people in the doors once in awhile AND we have to work together to build community over the long haul.  We need to make financial decisions as individuals and as a community not simply to survive, but to thrive.  In a few weeks, USCJ will be offering meetings about helping congregations thrive--I hope that some of us can join together to show what we want from and for our community.

Returning to Abraham, when we welcome people into the Jewish covenant, it is a challenging process--study, mikvah, Beit Din.  We don’t ask the same of those who were born Jewish.  For the future of Judaism, I think we may need to rethink that.  We have to help people realize that Judaism is both incredibly enjoyable, incredibly meaningful and that to receive those benefits, real work is required!   Nothing in a synagogue happens by itself.  Dinner doesn’t get made.  Calls aren’t made.  Visits don’t happen by themselves.  Prayers and sermons don’t write themselves--although that would be a great service, wouldn’t it?  All of you actively MAKE this community and for that I thank you.

Now I need you all to be like Abraham and Sarah.  Wherever they went, they inspired people to Judaism.  We still need that today.  We need to demonstrate to all those around us--Jewish or not--that being Jewish is something to be proud of, that makes us WANT to get up in the morning, that encourages us to celebrate the gift of each day.  We don’t need to make a vow or become a Nazir; we don’t have to restrict ourselves from the gifts of God, but we do have to recognize the gifts that we have.  In this way, we tie ourselves to the Covenant and inspire the next generation.  Shabbat Shalom.

Building blocks and Axis of Awesome

Science tells us that atoms and matter are the building blocks of life.  In music, notes and chords form the musical universe.  This week a live version of an 

"old" video is racing around the internet.  Embedded below is the  Axis of Awesome's original "4 chords" a demonstration how most #1 hit songs are simple chord progressions.

As I was listening/watching, I thought about prayer and trying to connect to God.  What are the 3 or 4 chords of prayer?  When we teach prayer to children, we generally speak of "praise, petition and thanksgiving."  While simplistic, these frameworks do capture much of our prayer-lives.  Additionally, applied to our lives outside of prayer they can create goodwill in all aspects of our lives, improving our relationships and personal interactions.

• Praise:
• In prayer, praise helps us see the greatness of God, acknowledging our limited place in the world and helping us to reach out to our creator.
• In relationships, praise builds connections.  A sincere compliment opens the door to a sincere conversation.
• Petition:
• In prayer, our requests focus our thoughts on what matters, helping us decide what actions we need to take.  For those of us who believe that God hears and responds to prayer, formally asking God is opening the door to a better future.
• In relationships, asking for what we need helps us get what we need. Relationships are stronger when we communicate honestly.  Asking for what we need can be the second step to deeper connections.
• Thanksgiving:
• In prayer, offering thanks reminds us of our place in the world AND that we don't have everything in our control.  Gratitude truly changes us, seeing the greatness in the world makes us happier, more fulfilled individuals.
• In relationships, offering gratitude is a third step to happier relationships.  If we give thanks we appreciate one another more AND we are more generous in our judgments!

The song that started this entire thought process is below.  It's pretty awesome!

According to wikipedia "The Axis of Awesome is an Australian musical comedy act with members Jordan Raskopoulos, Lee Naimo and Benny Davis. The trio cover a wide variety of performance styles, and perform a combination of original material and pop parodies."

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Axis_of_Awesome

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oOlDewpCfZQ

Koren Tehillim

Since I have been a subscriber of the Koren Talmud, I've made friends with their publicity department and they occasionally send me interesting new books that they are publishing.  Thanks Koren Publishers!

Right before the chagim, I received a couple things, one of which I would love to share with you today. http://korenpub.com/koren/intusd/tanakh/tehillim-psalms/koren-tehillim.html

While not the smallest or lightest copy of the book of Psalms, this might be the most useful and beautiful one.  The Koren font is fabulous and easy to read, with their standard practice of English on the right and Hebrew on the left creating a beautiful tree-like image on each page.  Commentaries are straightforward and help individuals connect the psalms to daily life.  Most useful are the pages at the end, with prayers for healing, at a cemetery and at bedtime.  Since those times are when many people are most likely to recite psalms, having them available is a great resource.  I highly recommend this volume.

From their website:
"With his modern and accessible translation, Rabbi Eli Cashdan brings out the lyrical elegance of the Psalms and offers clarity to the English reader. The text is accompanied by a sensitive analysis and commentary by Rabbi Dr. Tzvi Hersh Weinreb, communal leader, qualified psychotherapist and the Executive Vice President Emeritus of the Orthodox Union. Rabbi Weinreb is a distinguished scholar who brings from his many disciplines, an insightful and innovative approach to the understanding of Tehillim."

Yom Kippur Yizkor

Rabbi Philip Weintraub

Congregation Agudas Israel

September 23, 2015

YK Day: Holiness of Mundane in Loss

As my daughter approaches the age of Disney movies, the dramatic absence of parents is particularly powerful.  Think back to your childhood or of your children and grandchildren: Snow White, Cinderella, The Little Mermaid, Lion King, Bambi, Dumbo, Peter Pan, The Jungle Book, The Fox and the Hound, Beauty and the Beast, Pocahontas, Aladdin, Frozen, even Pixar with Toy Story or Up.  Mothers, fathers or both are killed or disappeared in remarkable numbers.  Some suggest this comes from a tragic accident that resulted in the loss of Walt Disney’s own mother.  Others say it is simply an effective narrative tool--if you want to talk about growth and maturity, “knocking off a parent” is useful shorthand.

http://www.businessinsider.com/why-there-are-no-moms-in-disney-movies-2014-9#ixzz3kcJ1gjFa

Whether in Disney terms or in reality, no life is complete without loss and loss can be an opportunity for growth.  At this stage of my life, I am grateful to have my parents and in-laws.  Parenting is a tremendous blessing, but no matter the child, having a resource to ask questions is a gift.  I cannot imagine the loss of any of them, and do not pretend to.  Yet empathy, the loss of grandparents, and even the loss of a potential life, makes grief no less real in my own life.

Having studied grief academically, through chaplaincy, through our shared experiences and my own personal losses, I have seen how different traditions attempt to assist people through their grief process.  I cannot say strongly enough how lucky we are to be Jewish, to choose Judaism, especially when we lose someone.  As Jews, our religion offers us a rubric, an algorithm, a language for loss that is frankly missing in much of our surrounding culture.

I don’t say this to make you feel guilty if you sat shiva for three days instead of seven.  I know that not all of you will come to Yizkor services next week for Shemini Atzeret, at Passover or Shavuot.  We do not have a daily minyan here to help you say Kaddish every day, but we will help you with a minyan for shloshim, for shiva or for a yahrzeit.  In all of those cases, we have always come together--as long as we have a week’s notice!

I stand here to affirm my message from the last week.  Every single day of our lives is one that can be filled with holiness, with kedushah,  with little points of light that can inspire us to deeper, more meaningful lives.  The lesson I have not clearly articulated over these last few days is that as modern Jews, we are all Jews by choice.  If we were born Jewish, we did not have any official conversion ceremony, but we chose to remain within our tradition.  As such, the rituals, the metaphors can speak to us, can help us make daily choices that bring God into our lives.  As I quoted the Kotzker rebbe earlier this week, “Where is God found? Wherever we let God in!”

For Passover 2014’s Yizkor, I introduced you to Superman Sam, Sam Sommer, the second child of two rabbis, Phyllis and Michael Sommer.  Sam had a difficult form of childhood cancer and his parents blogged from the beginning of his diagnosis, through remission, recurrence, and to his death.  Unlike so many health journey blogs, they did not stop at his death in December 2013.  While not as frequent, I get regular emails with new blog posts, with photos of the family and memories as they live their lives and as they remember him.  No matter the stages of grief, it is not a purely linear process.  People may be angry one day and accept another.  They may go back from acceptance to bargaining or denial all on a daily basis.

Rabbi Phyllis wrote recently:

Pouring

I was driving today, wearing sunglasses.

Because the sun was shining.

And then suddenly, it started to rain.

Pour, actually.

But the sun was still shining.

Brightly.

I looked around, thinking that if I tried hard enough, I would find a rainbow.

But I didn't.

And then the rain stopped.

The sun shone.

Sometimes that is how I feel.

The sun can be shining.

And without warning, a monsoon pours down upon me.

I am overwhelmed with grief.

I want to find a rainbow, to imagine that it's going to end.

The rain stops, but sometimes the rainbow doesn't show its face.

Sometimes I am completely overwhelmed with the realization that I'm never going to wake up and find Sam here.

I hope for the rainbow. For the light and love and blessing.

Sometimes it hides its face.

http://supermansamuel.blogspot.com/2015/09/pouring.html

That’s what life is.  Moments of joy, moments of sadness.  I especially loved the line that sometimes the rainbow doesn’t show its face.  It made me think of the rabbinic concept of hester panim, that when we feel lost, hurt, it is as if God is hiding God’s face.  Yet even when we feel abandoned by God, we may just be looking in the wrong place.

On Rosh Hashanah, I argued that we will find more meaning, more happiness, more joy if we could be more appreciative.  The same is true with our memories and with sadness.  We live in a world that is afraid of emotion.  We numb ourselves and distract ourselves from the realities of the world and the realities of our lives.  I argue that our lives our richer when we allow ourselves to mourn, allow ourselves to feel sad, to cry.

In this year, I shared with you some of my own feelings of loss.  We are grateful to Gd, no kunahuras, and hope to celebrate a new addition to our family after next Purim, [pretend to spit].  Yet, even as I find myself incredibly excited about such possibilities, I still grieve and yet am somehow a tiny bit grateful for the miscarriage Rebecca had last summer.  I mentioned earlier the great blessing of the Jewish tradition--rituals and things to do when we lose someone.  One of the biggest challenges people have around death is not knowing what to do, how to act, yet our tradition gives clear instructions--except where it doesn’t.  Miscarriage, perinatal and neonatal loss don’t have traditional Jewish rituals.  We discovered things in the back of my Rabbi’s Manual, online, and Rebecca found going to the mikvah to be a healing experience.  For me, this absence of ritual was the hardest part.  Yet I was blessed to have all of you.  Sharing our story with you, I heard so many, many stories.  Had I not been a rabbi, we might not have told anyone, which would have been so much more difficult for us.  We discovered that we were not weird alien creatures for being sad about losing a potential child, but truly part of a community, one of many who shared that experience.

It has not been easy to share the experience.  As much as I put myself in front of you all, there are some feelings I am more reserved about.  I love to share my joy, but am less excited about sharing sorrow.  Yet that sorrow makes joy so much richer.  I firmly believe that our ability to appreciate the wonders, the miracles of our lives is in direct relationship to our ability to mourn the losses of our lives and the broken world we live in.  When we recognize the sorrows of others, when we work to support them, how much more can we gain from our experience, how much more can we appreciate the blessings that we do have.  How much more can we celebrate?  In my own life, I ask for your continued prayers, as we hope to have much to celebrate in the coming year!  Every morning, Psalm 30 tells us that God turns our mourning into dancing.  I pray that this year will do so for all of us.

Thinking about Yizkor, our minds go to a place of memory, remembering important people in our lives. Whether they are parents, grandparents, children, siblings, spouses or other relatives and friends, they touched our lives deeply.  We simply would not be the people we are without their influence.  Whatever their biological role, they were our teachers and even without a physical existence, they can still teach us.

As Jews in the 21st century, obligation (or guilt) does not resonate in the ways it did for generations of Jews.  Yet you stand and sit here today.  You recognize the potential for holiness, meaning, love in our lives.  We are not simply organisms for whom living is our only goal.  Over the last few days, I have spoken of bringing the kedushah, the holiness, of today into the rest of the year.  I have spoken of the tools of gratitude, prayer, Israel, relationships, community, respect, and now memory and loss.  I pray that in the year to come, these tools will help you discover holiness, find meaning, bring gratitude and love into your life.  These are huge goals, yet we need not entirely accomplish them to reap huge dividends.  Every moment is an opportunity.  Do not waste it, let us turn now to the Yizkor service.

Kol Nidre 2015

Rabbi Philip Weintraub

Congregation Agudas Israel

9/22/15 (5776)

Kol Nidre: Holiness of Mundane in Human relationships

Before I start another sermon with a joke, I want to add a brief follow-up to my second day Rosh Hashanah sermon.  I spoke about the miracles and challenges of Israel and challenged you to come with me next May.  The flyers are at the table with your nametags and deposits are being accepted starting Thursday!  Now, to the humor:

A rabbi, a priest and a minister are fishing, sitting on a little boat in the middle of a lake.  After a little while, the rabbi says, “I think I need a soda.” So he walks across the lake and grabs a drink from his picnic basket on shore.  A few minutes later, the priest says “I could really use my sandwich,” so he walks across the lake and grabs a bite from his picnic basket.  The minister is absolutely amazed at this and decides to try it out.  He excuses himself to use the restroom, takes a step off the boat and starts splashing about in the water.  The rabbi turns to the priest and says, “Should we have told him about the stepping stones?”

What does it mean to be a community?  In the last few years, United Synagogue has stopped calling its member congregations congregations.  Instead they call them kehillot, communities.  We strive to be a kehillah kedoshah, a holy community, where we look out for one another, support one another, help in times of need and celebrate each other's simchas.  The rabbi and priest in my joke would have been a lot nicer had they just told the minister where the steps were!

As a community, we keep each other in the loop.  If someone is sick, we check in on them.  Hopefully I am told.  Every month in the bulletin I write that sometimes it is ok to gossip.  I would rather hear that someone is ill three times than not hear at all. While many value their privacy, I cannot offer a prayer, cannot visit, if I do not know in the first place!  Creating and growing a community is dependent on our interconnectedness.

One of the aspects of this shul that I love is the feeling of community.  In the last few years, I can think of quite a few moments where we really did things right.  When “my girls” had their bat mitzvah, so many of you came to support, that it looked like Yom Kippur--although the kiddush was a heck of alot better.  Together they worked with me for quite awhile (and continue to do so) and when we celebrated their accomplishments people really showed up.  At bar mitzvahs of some of the young people of this congregation, the same spirit was found.  There is a great energy in this room when we truly come together.  When my daughter was born we found that same energy at her naming.  Celebrating her birth with so many of you, we discovered the love that is in this community.  We pray for many more such occasions in the future!

On the other side of things, when we have lost members and friends, we have never been short for a shiva minyan.  Even when members had been less active in their later years, shiva minyanim have been well attended.  While it would be nice if more people attended some of those funerals, I spoke this week with a recent widow and she shared how touched she was with those from way back who came to attend her husband’s funeral and shiva.

Just this past week I had another moment of celebration.  I was talking to one of our co-presidents, recovering from back surgery.  He said, “Did you tell everyone to call me? I heard from him and her and her and him to see how I was doing?”  I said, “It wasn’t me.  They are doing it on their own.”  In that moment, if I can pat myself on the back, I realized that my teachings and sermons are truly sinking in!

As a rabbi, as a chaplain, the lesson that I have really learned is “just show up”.  This lesson does not apply only to me.  Your presence is what makes or breaks an event.  It is what changes a class from me talking to myself to a spirited discussion.  Your physical self in this room transforms a service from personal prayer to a minyan. Your presence at a funeral, a shiva, in the home of someone who doesn’t get out much can provide so much support.  

When you visit someone who is ill your presence can actually help to heal!  Tractate Bava Metzia teaches that visiting the ill removes 1/60th of the illness!  This isn’t to say that you just need sixty visitors, as the Talmud and later commentators advise not overwhelming people, not arriving at the same time as the doctor, and giving people with intestinal distress more space so that they are not embarrassed by their noises and odors. With those caveats, the rabbis understood that just showing up is incredibly powerful for people.  Even if there is nothing “to do”, keeping a family member company can be a major source of consolation in a difficult time.  Don’t worry too much about saying the wrong thing, but try to give the person you are visiting space to talk.  Try listening more than speaking and then you won’t say anything you regret!  (That is a good lesson not just in a hospital, but in a shiva home, or in many conversations!)

Now that I’ve just said presence is more important than words, let me remind you that what and how we say does matter, too. The way we speak to one another, what we choose to say, and where we choose to say those words are all incredibly important and should reflect our values.  We must be careful of the words we choose, not just in a hospital, but in all situations.

There is a famous story elsewhere in Bava Metzia (84a) about Rabbi Yochanan and Reish Lakish, two famous scholars.  Rabbi Yochanan was known for his great beauty, which helped to inspire Reish Lakish to drop his first profession (as a leader of bandit and thieves) and become a Jewish scholar!  Rabbi Yochanan taught Reish Lakish Torah for years; they became very close, chevrutas, study partners and friends.  

This close friendship was broken one day when their normally spirited arguments of details of Jewish law took a personal turn.  Discussing swords and weapons, Rabbi Yochanan believed that the manufacturing of a sword was complete when it was tempered in an oven.  Reish Lakish said it was not complete until it had been cooled in water after that heating.  They debated for awhile until Rabbi Yochanan said, “you were once a bandit, so you are the expert on swords.”  Reish Lakish was broken hearted and replied “If you still think of me as a bandit, what did you ever do for me?”  Rabbi Yochanan replied “What did I do for you?  I reformed your ways.  I brought you under God’s protection.  How dare you not appreciate this!”  The two men departed, both deeply offended and personally hurt by the other's reaction.  Reish Lakish was so upset, and so crushed internally, that he fell ill, and eventually died because of it.

One might think the story is over there.  Yet the lesson continues with the reminder that even deep relationships can be irreparably harmed by harsh words and hurt feelings.  The narrative continues:

Rabbi Yochanan was upset and grieved greatly for his departed friend.  The other Rabbis saw this and wanted to pick him up.  They knew that Rabbi Yochanan was at his happiest when he was studying with Reish Lakish, so they began a search to find the most brilliant scholar they could, and would pair the two together as new study partners.  They found a tremendously bright student, who for every teaching Rabbi Yochanan would bring, would give a long list of reasons why he was correct.  But this did nothing for Rabbi Yochanan.  "I don't need this," he said.  "What I need is for you to tell me why I am wrong.  That is what made Reish Lakish so special.  That for every teaching I brought, he would tell me 24 reasons why I was wrong.  It was through that discussion and that debate, that we each came to see the other's viewpoint, and together we were able to finally learn what a correct answer might be."

In our tradition, arguing is important.  Disagreements are important.  Yet, we have to be aware of HOW we are arguing.  We must do so with respect, with love with kindness.  Showing respect applies even in board meetings and financial discussions!  We must remember that from our tradition, from our Talmud, public embarrassment is seen as a cardinal sin.

While I could give you several sources,  Bava Kamma 90a gives several examples of huge fines for seemingly minor physical confrontations.

. צרם באזנו, תלש בשערו, רקק והגיע בו רוקו, העביר טליתו ממנו, פרע ראש האשה בשוק נותן לו ארבע מאות זוז

4) If he tore at his ear, plucked out his hair, spat at him and his spit touched him, or pulled his cloak from off him, or loosed a woman’s hair in the street, he must pay 400 zuz.

Dr Josh Kulp of the Conservative Yeshiva writes;

“These types of blows will probably not cause any damage and therefore the fines are for embarrassment only...They demonstrate that Jewish law takes publicly embarrassing another person very seriously and penalizes such a person with a stiff financial penalty.  Indeed according to Jewish tradition one who publicly embarrasses another is akin to a murderer. “ http://learn.conservativeyeshiva.org/2014/05/bava-kamma-chapter-eight-mishnah-six/

Dr. Kulp also teaches about of Bava Metzia 58b-59a where we learn

that one who publicly shames his neighbor, it’s equivalent to murdering him; wronging someone verbally/publicly is worse than robbing him; better to have potentially (but not actually) adulterous relationship that to publicly shame his neighbor AND finally, better to throw oneself into a fiery furnace than embarrass someone!  

On that note,

[Check the age of the room]:

A rabbi, a priest and a minister are playing golf together.  As they get to the third hole, the rabbi says to the priest, “celibacy, hmm,  Really, forever?”  The priest says, “well, almost, there was this one time.”  Around the ninth hole, the priest says to the minister, “I know that your denomination doesn’t allow gambling, but have you ever played the lottery?”  The minister replies, “Well, there was that one time our convention was in Vegas.  I put a nickel in the slot machine and won $100.  You are the first people I’ve ever told.”  Just as they were getting ready to play the last hole, the two of them look at the rabbi and say, “do you have any vices?”  The rabbi looks a little sheepish and the says, “I do love a great story.  I’m trying to figure out who I want to tell these to first!”  

Again, the rabbi in this joke isn’t the nicest guy.  I wouldn’t want to go to a bar with him!  Jewish values would teach him to keep his mouth shut.  While there are certain exemptions to rules of gossip--ie letting me know if someone is ill so I can visit, sharing information that would stop a bad marriage or a bad business deal, we are not to speak ill of people maliciously or unnecessarily.  

Rabbi Israel Meir HaCohen Kagan, who lived a hundred years ago, was an incredibly important and influential rabbi who focused on ethical teachings.  He was an ethicist, a halachic judge, (posek) whose commentary on the Shulchan Aruch, the Mishneh Brurah, is authoritative in many circles today.  In Jewish parlance, an author is called not by his name, but by his most important work.  He is not generally known as the Mishneh Brurah, but as the Chofetz Chaim, which was his work about pure speech, refraining from gossip, and all the laws and customs surrounding that issue.  His teachings there, reminding us to be extremely cautious about how we speak about others, overshadows his authoritative book on Jewish Law.  This tremendously popular and pious rabbi continues to be referenced as his seminal work, even as he was a prolific author!  His books on shmirat ha’lashon, guarding the tongue remain in print and online as primary sources today.  (On a side note, if you’d like to study them with me, I’m glad to do so!) As we enter into a day of contemplation, let us strive that the year to come will include far more positive speech!  What does it say about Jewish tradition that his book about talking respectfully is even more well known than his book about the entirety of Jewish law.

Ignoring my jokes, I can boil down this sermon to three lines:

1. The way to be a community is to show up for one another.
2. To be a holy community, we need to think about what we say to one another.
3. Being nice, not embarrassing one another is the hallmark of being a good Jew.

May these points remain with you not just tomorrow, but every day this year. We have so much to celebrate here, let us continue to work for the positive! L’shanah tovah.