Showing posts with label American Dream. Show all posts
Showing posts with label American Dream. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 28, 2017

Jewish values in a challenging time

What are our values?
What do we care about?
Our history and texts teach us that there are multiple paths to annunciate and demonstrate what we care about.  We can write, speak, march, do, listen, care, spend money.  Some say actions are louder than words, while others focus on the power of the pen (or keyboard).

In our morning prayers, we do not just bless the Holy One for the gift of Torah, but rather say:
Barukh atah Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha’olam asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu la’asok b’divrei torah.
Blessed are You, Lord our God, Master of Space and Time, who has sanctified us with commandments, and commanded us to be occupied with words of Torah.

The word “la’asok” is key here.  Translations vary from study, to be occupied with, to practice, to engage with.  Regardless of how we translate the word, it is one that demands action.  It is an active word imagining us wrestling, fighting with, engaging with the texts.

Our texts debate which is more important--action or study, with strong arguments on each side.  One of the most popular of those debates in the Talmud ends with the command that we study--for it leads to action.  (See for example: http://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/learning-amp-doing/)

For me study is a gift.  It is time to consider our past, present and future.  It is a way to see the conversations that are relevant today have been with us for generations.  The Torah teaches repeatedly about caring for the stranger, widow and orphan--those who need a little more help.  The Talmud teaches about the importance of freeing slaves and redeeming captives--knowing that the world is not perfect and we can be both oppressor and victim.  Our identities are not static, but ever changing.  Our choices make all the difference.

This week has made me very antsy.  Hearing reports of cemeteries desecrated, of JCCs and Jewish centers and schools having bomb threats, I wonder how I can most actively contribute.  Donations are wonderful, but how can we prevent future attacks?  How can I be a voice for calm and reason when I, myself, am frustrated?

So I have made phone calls to my elected officials.  I have thanked my local police officers. I lock my doors and set the alarm, yet I also make sure that I remain active in community events. I have recommitted myself to study.  I pray that my study will lead me to further action.  What will you do next?

Friday, February 26, 2016

Thoughts on Psalm 34--Can we be nice already?

Rabbi Philip Weintraub
Ask the clergy

The last few weeks in my congregation have been filled with the hospice care, deaths, funerals, and mourning care of beloved congregants. As such, this column is in a different format.

A Jewish funeral includes the recitation of many psalms.  One that is frequently included is a selection from Psalm 34, from the New Jewish Publication Society translation, verses 13-15
“13Who is the man who is eager for life, who desires years of good fortune?
14 Guard your tongue from evil, your lips from deceitful speech.
15 Shun evil and do good, seek amity (peace/friendly relationships) and pursue it.”

As a member of the clergy, my work is spent helping people in liminal times, at those moments when we are neither here nor there, neither past nor future, but on the threshold.  Births, adolescence, weddings, divorces, aging, funerals are all part of my daily life.  Yet the business of a congregation also requires us to be in the present--which can create conflict over funding priorities, programs, maintenance, etc.

Amidst those very present conversations, I come back to this text again and again.  What does it mean to be a good person? How can we improve our relations to others?  It is really very simple--the golden rule, or according to Rabbi Hillel more than two thousand years ago “What is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow: this is the whole Torah; the rest is the explanation; go and learn.”  One place to learn that rule is from Psalm 34--in the way we speak to one another.

Many books have been written about proper speech, about not only avoiding gossip and lies, but also thinking how we encourage lies and gossip.  If I know that my best friend hates Trump or Clinton, sharing their accomplishments in front of them may open up a torrent of vile speech.  I am goading them into poor behavior.  That is not just unbecoming of them, it is also unbecoming of me.  I am complicit in their evil speech.

Looking around this city and this country, this election has brought for much vitriol, much anger, much evil speech.  Candidates have spoken blatant lies, hateful words and even encouraged violence against those who disagree with them.  Supporters have beaten up those they disagree with.

What can we do to lower the temperature?  We are and should be passionate about the details and policies and politics of our candidates.  We all want a country where the American Dream is alive and well, where everyone has a shot at a better life.  Most of us would like affordable access to medicine when we need it, shelter at night, enough food to eat, roads to drive on, safe bridges, education for our children and water free from lead or toxic chemicals.  People have different ideas about how large or small government needs to be to provide essential services. That is amazing.  We should not all agree on the methods, yet we should agree on respect.

Even if I disagree with everything that you say or believe in, I pray I can do it nicely.  Rather than letting my blood boil when someone shares racist tripe, I try to remember that they, too, are created in the image of the Holy One and deserve my love and respect.  

Returning to the Psalm, one way we can find civility again.  One way we can seek peace and friendly relationships is simply to speak kindly to one another.  This does not mean ignoring honesty.  We must find a way to be truthful AND kind.  We must find a way to bring love to our criticisms.  Only then can we truly work together to accomplish our shared goals.  Mourning the loss of my members, I am reminded of the importance of love for one another.  We are all in this together--no matter our backgrounds, our faiths or lack there of, our origin stories, our personal histories, or our politics!

I wish you all a week of peace!

Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Gratitude is powerful. Finding the sacred in every day.

Rabbi Philip Weintraub
Congregation Agudas Israel
September 14, 2015


RH Day 1: Putting the extraordinary in the ordinary in Prayer


There is an old Israeli joke about a rabbi who arrives in heaven.  He is shown to his dwelling and learns what ones does and how one gets around.  After a few days of wandering, he finds a tremendous mansion, which seems even more fantastic after seeing his own humble dwellings.  After a few more days, he asks around and discovers an Egged bus driver (or Jerusalem taxi driver) is the resident of the most luxurious accommodations.  This rabbi gets rather frustrated and takes his concerns to the top.  He asks God, what is going on?  I spent my life serving you and teaching your people.  God responds quite simply. “When you taught, people slept.  When he drove, people prayed!”
 
What does your average day look like?  You get up, take care of your daily needs, eat, shower, get moving.  You go to work, to school, to the stores, run errands, do laundry.  Even retired we find ourselves in third or fourth careers, running, running, running.  As Americans, we are busier and more productive than ever, but are we happier?  Are we more fulfilled?  Do we find satisfaction in our busy, busy lives?  Children are rushed to activity after activity in order to be prepared for middle school, high school, college.  We live in a world of burned out elementary school children!  Too much homework, always on work phones for adults--with some companies even tracking their employees activities outside of work.  How much time of your day is spent in prayer or reflection, in gratitude?  Do you think you have time for that?


Every single day we are searching for more on our devices.  We click through and search for more.  We do not sleep because of the glow of the screens.  More news.  More life. More connection.  We live in a world where our single friends can scroll through endless possibilites on phone apps, yet struggle to find a real relationship.  So many choices leave them (and us) wondering if the best is yet to come, dismissing what we have! Looking at the facebook posts of friends and colleagues, 95% of what we see is the best, the most beautiful, the most wonderful.  We can feel horribly inferior, until we consider what WE post.  Do we share (or should we) our tsurris or just our best?  Do our facebook friends think we are also living perfect lives?


What would it look like if we just got off the technological treadmill?  What if we took a breath and imagined a different type of life?


Guess what you are doing right now?!  Today is Monday.  You have stepped out of your normal paradigm.  You are in a different space, thinking different thoughts.  I am not speaking just to pat you on the back, but to ask how you can bring this paradigm into your daily life.  Today, the first day of Rosh Hashanah, is about forgiveness and judgement, but it is also about new opportunities.  It is about looking at the world differently.  We sound the shofar.  Psalm 89:16 reminds us:


16 Fortunate is the people that know the blasting of the shofar; O Lord, may they walk in the light of Your countenance.
טז אַשְׁרֵי הָעָם יֹדְעֵי תְרוּעָה הֹ" בְּאוֹר פָּנֶיךָ יְהַלֵּכוּן:
Today I encourage you to feel fortunate.  Let the blast of the shofar awaken us.  Let us walk in the light of the Holy One and discover our blessings.  Looking around the world, we know that we are blessed to live here now.  We have major problems in this country, income inequality, far too much gun violence, yet right here, right now we are safer here than almost anywhere in the world at ANY time in history.  Our ancestors could not have imagined a world where we could have influence, safety, health, success and remain minorities.  World history is filled with the idea that for a people to be successful they have to dominate the society around them.  Jews have demonstrated that this is simply not the case.  We can be a tiny percentage of the world’s population and still accomplish incredible things, still live lives of meaning and dignity.


I invite you to look around this room with a spirit of awe and gratitude.  See the people that sit here with you.  See the friends that make this all possible.  Look at the book in front of you.  Within it are three thousand years of yearning.  These prayers are the original facebook, the original twitter, the original party line. On the sides of the book we have the commentaries, the dreams, the visions, the poetry, that helps us connect to those dreams, those prayers, those wishes.  Security. Peace. Love. Sustenance.  Housing. Family.  These dreams do not change, whether we live today or a thousand years before or after.


As Jews, we have a deep well, a reservoir of hope, of yearning, of connection.  We have traditions that tie us to our roots.  We are grafted to our sources of connection, to the Holy One, to God.  We create and renew this connection through prayer and thanks.  Looking at the liturgy here, the prayers we recite, we see the dreams that have not changed in millenia.  Every year there are new fads that try to connect people to that which is missing in their life, to help them find meaning.  Some of these fads--yoga and meditation--aren’t fads at all, but ancient wisdom from other traditions.  Other diets and workout routines are more temporal.  The search for thankfulness and gratitude is found throughout the world, for a very simply reason.  We are happier, more fulfilled, more joyful when we give thanks, when we see the good in each other and the world.


As Jews, we have a rubric, a template for giving thanks in so many ways.  From the prayers for the first flowers of spring, to those asking for healing, to daily prayers of waking up and going to bed, of pausing during the day to recognize our own humanity.  Traditionally we pray both before AND after we eat.  On September 22, 2018 I’ll study the 43rd page of Menachot, a tractate of Talmud discussing our ancient sacrifices in the Jerusalem Temple.  Yet, on that page is a demand from Rabbi Meir which I am quite familiar with: “
חייב אדם לברך מאה ברכות בכל יום, שנאמר: (דברים י') ועתה ישראל מה ה' אלקיך שואל מעמך. רב חייא בריה דרב אויא בשבתא וביומי טבי טרח וממלי להו באיספרמקי ומגדי.
It was taught: R. Meir used to say, A man is bound to say one hundred blessings daily, (skiP:)as it is written, And now, Israel, what doth the Lord thy God require of thee? On Sabbaths and on Festivals R. Hiyya the son of R. Awia endeavoured to make up this number by the use of spices and delicacies.


What would it look like to say one hundred blessings a day?  How would that even work?  Traditional Jews have it easy!  There are a dozen blessings when one wakes or enters the shul, nineteen thrice a day in the Amidah, three or four around the shema in the morning and at night, and blessings before and after meals--you are done!  Shabbat and festivals are more challenging with the Amidah having fewer blessings, yet celebratory meals and Shabbat walks enjoying our beautiful Hudson Valley can easily add enough scents and tastes to add up to the official count.  At the same time, I think we can gain much from Rabbi Meir even if we don’t literally count our daily blessings.  Some social scientists claim we are most productive if we work twenty minutes take a few minutes break and then return to our focus--like interval training for the mind.  What if we used that time for gratitude, to recognize the Creator of the Universe, to recognize the Divinity in ourselves, and in one another.  Would we be more focused (and generous) to one another in a meeting if we remembered the holiness within us all, if we saw how interconnected we all are?  
ד  שְׁמַע, יִשְׂרָאֵל:  ה" אֱ-לֹהֵינוּ, ה" אֶחָד.
4 Hear, O Israel: the LORD our God, the LORD is one.
Echad, one, is translated in many different ways.  Echad--alone, singular, unlike anything else.  Yet kabbalistically, mystically, one might imagine a different sort of one-ness.  What if we saw all the world as God or at least Godly?  Would we look at Syrian refugees the same way?  How would we treat immigrants to this country?  Or even the most disliked group of people on this planet--political candidates! What would the WORLD look like if we acted with more love?


So the big question is if we have the secret to happiness, why don’t we use it?
I shouldn’t need to stand here and tell you that you will be undoubtedly happier if you are nice to people, if you give thanks to God for all that you have, if you appreciate your family, friends and the ones you love?  And yet, I must stand here and say exactly that!  


I have known my wife for nine years.  She knows me very well.  In the weeks leading up to the holidays, like many rabbis, I can get a little stressed and cranky.  I want everything to be just right.  I want you to walk away impressed with your community, closer to God, inspired to live more meaningful lives.  And I want you to do that without looking at your apple watches during my sermon.  In short, I want everything just right.  Yet at this time of year, even while writing about gratitude, I can find myself short-tempered!  In focusing on making sure every detail is right for you, I can forget the bigger picture, even the point of my sermons this week.  In coming together, I want us to learn how to live even when we are not gathered in these numbers in this room.  I want to inspire you to find the holiness that is in each day, whether or not I can get you to come back and spend time with me on a weekly basis!  I want you to find the blessings of OUR tradition not just today, but every day.


One way to do this is through our mouths and one is through our calendar.
Through our mouths, Jewish tradition has much to say about what goes in AND what comes out.  Some of you know the holiness of kashrut, of choosing to be conscious of every morsel that goes into your mouth, you may have discovered that making that choice supports the gratitude I mentioned previously.  However, do not let anyone tell you that what comes out of your mouth is any less important.  As the annexation debate rages just a few miles down the road, we must be cognizant of how we speak about our neighbors--both those who look like us and those who do not.  As Rabbi Sacks recently wrote:
I used to think that the most important line in the Bible was “Love your neighbour as yourself”. Then I realised that it is easy to love your neighbour because he or she is usually quite like yourself. What is hard is to love the stranger, one whose colour, culture or creed is different from yours. That is why the command, “Love the stranger because you were once strangers”, resonates so often throughout the Bible.
http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/sep/06/refugee-crisis-jonathan-sacks-humanitarian-generosity
How we speak about others can have beautiful and grave consequences.  When I hear that my words and actions have inspired someone to live and teach the blessings of Rosh Hashanah at their holiday meals, I am filled with pride and gratitude.  Yet when I am told that my words have hurt the ones I love, I am filled with shame and grief.  Words matter.  When we think first of what we are to say, when we consider what we eat, what goes in and what goes out, every meal and every conversation is an opportunity for holiness!


The Jewish calendar is ONE more way of finding the holiness every single day--not just today, but every day.  From Shabbat to festivals, our calendar conspires to create time for family, for friends, for the sacred.  While disconnecting from work on a regular basis may seem crazy, obligating ourselves to time together is life changing.  Pausing on a regular basis allows us perspective.  It gives us the gift of time.  It creates moments to look out over our gorgeous Hudson river, to see the leaves change, to sit by the pool while we still can.  Whether we pull out of the fine china or eat Evergreen takeout on paper plates, those family dinners can change the course of our lives.  In just a week or two we will celebrate Sukkot and Simchat Torah, building the Sukkah (or letting me bring it to you), we shake fruits and vegetables, reminding ourselves of our roots, reminding ourselves of our land and our dependence on the Holy One.  When those holidays are over, I look forward to studying with you some of the sources of Shabbat and thinking with you how we might re-imagine Shabbat practices today.  Would we disconnect completely or use technology to connect to far-flung family?  Are we still celebrating Shabbat if we use our microwaves to reheat food?  We can make observing the Sabbath more about saying yes than saying no?!  Friday nights we sing Lecha Dodi, a mystical poem striving to connect us with God.  One verse has always moved me. יָמִין וּשְׂמֹאל תִּפְרֽוֹצִי. וְאֶת־יי תַּעֲרִֽיצִי Break out of your confines to the left and right, praise God.  Spread the Shabbat to the left and to the right.  In today’s world this is true, Muslims and Christians have taken our Sabbath and brought it to the surrounding days.  What would the world look like if we could spread the joy, the peace of Shabbat to the rest of the week?  How would you look?  How would you feel?  In the year to come, I pray we can discover this joy, this holiness together!


This is the way we find connection.  This is how we solve the yearning in our souls.  This is how we find God in every moment in our lives--by looking.  As the Kotzker rebbe, Menachem Mendel of Kotzk, said: “Where is God found?  In the place where we let God in!”  Let God in by finding the holiness, the joy, the meaning in each day.  


As we continue our service for the day, let us all remember today and every day my favorite verse from Psalms:
כד  זֶה-הַיּוֹם, עָשָׂה ה";    נָגִילָה וְנִשְׂמְחָה בוֹ.
24 This is the day which the LORD hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.

Let every day be a day of rejoicing!

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Yom Kippur Yizkor Broken and the Whole

Rabbi Philip Weintraub
Congregation Agudas Israel
October 4, 2014
Yom Kippur Yizkor

בְּראֹשׁ הַשָּׁנָה יִכָּתֵבוּן וּבְיוֹם צוֹם כִּפּוּר יֵחָתֵמוּן כַּמָּה יַעַבְרוּן וְכַמָּה יִבָּרֵאוּן מִי יִחְיֶה וּמִי יָמוּת.
On Rosh Hashanah it is written, and on the Fast day, Yom Kippur, it is sealed, How many will pass on and how many will be born, who will die and who will live.

From the Unatanah Tokef, a focal point of the Musaf Amidah on both Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, we offer this prayer.  We cry out to Gd, every one of us.  We look around the room.  We see those who are with us and those who are not.  We remember those we lost, the good times and the bad.  

Yet at the same time, we celebrate.  Yom Kippur is a day of deeply mixed emotion.  It is truly a roller coaster of a day.  At Kol Nidre, we ask Gd and each other to pray among sinners, knowing not only that all of us are imperfect, that all of us have sinned.  Whether the sins are large or small, hurting others, ourselves or Gd.  I read this week a brief, yet powerful piece reminding that we must remember not only to forgive others, but to forgive ourselves for the sin of not fulfilling our expectations.  Yom Kippur morning we beat our chests repeatedly.  We cry out to Gd to forgive our sins.  We do the Avodah service, remembering the powerful experience of the Temple, when the Cohen Gadol announced to the community that they were forgiven.  At that point, the modern and ancient versions of Yom Kippur split!  When our ancestors had the Temple in Jerusalem, the rest of Yom Kippur was a celebration.  Once the high priest completed the Avodah service, we knew we were forgiven!  Engagements were made, marriages announced.  The traditional Torah reading for Yom Kippur afternoon is all about relationships--who exactly are you allowed to marry and who can you not?

For us, we do not see the crimson thread turn white.  We do see the scapegoat tossed off a cliff.  We do not know if our sins have been forgiven.  We continue our service with the Eleh Ezkarah, remembering the martyrs of our tradition, Jews killed for teaching Judaism, for simply being Jews.  Originally written about Roman persecution, using stories from the Talmud, today we read about the martyrs of the Crusades, about the Inquisition, about the Shoah, the Holocaust.  We could add readings from Egypt, Yemen, Iraq, where Jews were sent from their homes, exiled and killed because of the blasphemy that there might be a Jewish state in the Middle East.  We could share stories today of Jews attacked around the world, simply for being Jews.  I could go on, but the day continues.

Yom Kippur mincha tells us the story of Jonah.  We remember NON-Jews being told to repent, the people of Nineveh.  Yet they do and they are saved.  On a holiday about our particular relationship with Gd, we share a universal reminder of the power of redemption.  

After mincha, we offer one last prayer service.  No other day of the year has FIVE different services, five different opportunities to beat our breast, to confess our sins.  Yet we come back, again and again, to some of the same words.  We cry out, again and again.  For some the repetition is boring.  They are ready to eat.  (One more thing to confess!)  Yet the repetition can bring us focus, can push us to greater heights.  Coming back this afternoon, this evening, we imagine the gate of forgiveness, the book of life, and we try to write ourselves into it.

If only we work harder. . .
If only we do what we are supposed to do. . .  

As I stand before you this morning, I am torn.  I am broken.  I am imperfect. I am a person who devotes his life to helping others, yet inevitably I fail.  I have spent weeks looking for the perfect words to inspire you, to help you find the strength to live another year.  I have looked for the perfect words, that will inspire you to see the world the way I do, to look at the spirals of the Jewish calendar, to let the rhythm of the calendar be the beat of your life.  And yet as I stand here, the words fall flat.  Not all of them will reach you.  They will drift in the ether, in the echo of this beautiful new room.  So I fall silent.

וּבְשׁוֹפָר גָּדוֹל יִתָּקַע. וְקוֹל דְּמָמָה דַקָּה יִשָּׁמַע.

THE GREAT SHOFAR will be sounded and the still small voice will be heard.

Yom Kippur is unlike any other day.  While we have other fasts, other days of prayer, this is a day of reflection like not other.  What are we trying to do?  Who are we trying to be?  How do our expectations help us succeed or fail?

Last night, I mentioned Rabbi Charles Sherman and his book, The Broken and the Whole: Discovering Joy after Heartbreak.  I want to share a couple excerpts to illustrate how we sometimes have to reconsider the paths we are on, be aware of the expectations we set for ourselves.

From the third page of his book, Rabbi Sherman sets the scene, it is 1985:
“Very few people get to live their dreams.  But there I was, forty-one years old, the rabbi of a major congregation in Syracuse, New York, and married to my summer camp sweetheart.  As a preacher, I was passionate, creative, confident, energetic, and well-known in the greater community.  I was on a career path. . .My children were growing up with a strong sense of identity and appreciation for Jewish values. .  .Not that every last detail was perfect.  I had more trouble than most balancing career and family. . .”
Two pages later he writes:
We cannot always identify the precise point in time when our lives are transformed.  For my family, it was 2AM on a frigid March night. . .when I awoke to a child’s whimper. . .
(After a brief debate over which parent would get him, the not-pregnant one did, Rabbi Sherman went to his son’s room):
I felt his forehead and found it very warm.  Not good, but not a disaster, either.  I would give him Tylenol and call our pediatrician in the morning.
“Eyal, let’s go to the bathroom.”
No response.
“Eyal, let me help you.  You’ll feel better.”. . .
Without my assistance, he would have crumpled to the floor.  I atrributed his fatigue to the late hour.  Then I noticed his pasty color, his jiggling legs, his incoherent speech.  His favorite yellow and red pajamas were drenched in body fluid and his eyes were distant and unaware.  At that moment, before I even called out to Leah for help, I knew: something was terribly wrong.”

From there, doctors were called, visited, hospital stays began.  They discovered a brain lesion and were told that their son had, at most, a few months to live.  Yet they weren’t ready to let go.  They fought and called doctors up and down the east coast.  They found a surgeon willing to operate and the surgery was successful.  They were jubilant!

If the story stopped there, I am not sure Rabbi Sherman would have written his book.  He would have had a brief detour on his career path, a couple months of extra time with his family and then gone back to his previous life.  Yet that is not the end of the story, it is only the beginning.  A few days after the surgery, Eyal had a brainstem stroke and was in a vegetative coma for months.  To hear more of the story, you will have to read his book.  Today Eyal is in his thirties.  He is dependent on a ventilator, cannot breathe, eat, or move independently.  Yet his mind is intact.  With the determination of his family, he had a Bar Mitzvah, attended school, graduated from college.  Putting a paint brush in his mouth, he has become an accomplished painter.  He has found success in his own way.  He has redefined expectations not only for himself, but for his entire family.

Every aspect of their lives had to change.  Every priority had to be reconsidered.  Eyal has had extended stays in the hospital many times in his life.  The Sherman’s home had to be adapted.  Rabbi Sherman even had to reconsider what a Bar Mitzvah would look like--Eyal learned the Torah reading, but could not make it audible--so for that Shabbat, he put in cameras and huge screens so that the congregation could SEE Eyal’s lip read the Torah--with proper trope!

Yizkor for me, is a time of remembrance.  I think of those who I have lost, my grandfathers Artie and Benjamin, my grandma Doris, and those who are still with us, yet sometimes feel lost, my Grandma Alice post-stroke.  I think of those we have lost this year, parents of some of you in this room, people I have known and cared about.  In every family, we have a story of suffering, of illness, of challenge.  Whether it is cancer or heart disease, Ebola, AIDS or tragic accidents, we ourselves or people we know are personally afflicted and affected by challenges.

As the great shofar is sounded, as we imagine writing ourselves in the Book of Life for the next year, I wonder about how we react to all these challenges.  What holds us up when times are tough?  How do we keep our strength when we feel like we will crumble?  What do we have in our toolbox to help us manage our expectations?

At the end of the day, Gd, faith, love, one another, therapy, community are all tools to get us through our difficult times, to help us find ways to celebrate again after and even DURING times of tragedy.  One Yizkor I shared with you the power of AND, that we can be both happy AND sad, jubilant AND disappointed, sweet AND bitter.  Sadness and joy are not mutually exclusive possibilities.

As much as we like, we cannot control every aspects of our lives, every little or big thing that happens to us.  What we can control is our reaction.  How do we deal with the challenges of life?  Choosing to respond positively, with hope, with a new plan for action, that we can do.  As I said on Rosh Hashanah, today is the day Gd has made, rejoice in it.

As we prepare for Yizkor, as we think of those who we have loved and lost, let us think of the decisions they made.  Did they react well to stress and change?  How can we emulate them when they did?  If they did not, how can we use their example to react with love and hope!

Next year, when we return to our regular sanctuary, we will ask ourselves again, for whom has the shofar tolled--and how did we react?

The most powerful line of the Unetanek Tokef tells us that T’shuvah, T’fillah and Tz’dakah have the power to transform the harshness of our destiny.  Renewing ourselves/repenting, prayer/yearning and charity/deeds of righteousness do not miraculously defeat cancer or solve all our problems.  Rather, they change our attitudes; they help us gain the tools to thrive in any situation.

G’mar tov!

Thursday, October 2, 2014

Rosh Hashanah day 2 5775, a concise philosophy of Conservative Judaism

Rabbi Philip Weintraub
Congregation Agudas Israel
September 26, 2014
Rosh Hashanah Day 2
Lo alecha ham'lacha ligmor,
Lo alecha ligmor.
V'lo ata ben chorim l'hibatil mimena,
V'lo ata ben chorin
In Pirkei Avot, a collection of Jewish wisdom in the Mishnah, Rabbi Tarfon teaches “ He used to say: It is not incumbent upon you to finish the task. Yet, you are not free to desist from it. If you have studied much in the Torah much reward will be given you, for faithful is your employer who shall pay you the reward of your labor. And know that the reward for the righteous shall be in the time to come.”

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. . .in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.”   With those words, Dickens began a novel that I have never read.  His Tale of Two Cities, writes of the trauma of the French Revolution, a chaotic, violence-filled time.  Written in 1859, war had only recently been concluded in Crimea.  Darwin’s Origin of the Species was about to be published.  Turkish troops bombarded Aleppo after a pogrom against Christians. In the United States, we were on the eve of the Civil War, with slave states and free states competing in Congress.  Just three years before, a Senator from South Carolina beat a Senator from Massachusetts on the Senate floor. The world was in turmoil.  

One hundred and forty years later, Billy Joel sang:
Rosenbergs, H-Bomb, Sugar Ray, Panmunjom
Brando, The King And I, and The Catcher In The Rye
Eisenhower, Vaccine, England's got a new queen
Marciano, Liberace, Santayana goodbye

We didn't start the fire
It was always burning
Since the world's been turning
We didn't start the fire
No we didn't light it
But we tried to fight it

In recent years, we have seen violence around the world.  From September 11 to the present, we have seen violence on a terrible scale.  Terrorists of all stripes have gathered together under flags of religion and attacked those who did not worship or believe as they did.  The rights of women have been under attack worldwide and even in our own country, women’s access to healthcare has been under siege.  For the first time since the Shoah, we saw widespread anti-Semitism--not just anti-Israel behavior but true anti-Semitism.  We saw Jews attacked in Paris, throughout Europe and even in Boston, LA and the Upper East Side.  While we feel safe here, we have more security for these services than in other years.  

At the same time, we have seen survey after survey lamenting the lack of Jewish participation in communities, further assimilation, and many questions about the future of the Conservative Movement.  Yet amidst all of this tsurris, I have been watching these walls go up.  I have seen the Jewish community unite in ways that could not have been imagined even a few years ago.  Within our own shul, we have seen huge increases in participation, connection and community.  Our numbers may be limited, but our impact is tremendous.

This morning, I want to share a little bit of my own vision, my own beliefs and my own dreams for what is possible here and in the Jewish world.  In these words, I hope to inspire you.  I hope to dream with you.  I hope to help you hope.

At the core of my being, I believe in Gd, Torah and Israel.  While those beliefs can not easily be summarized without us remaining here for a semester, I believe that Jews have a Brit, a covenant with the Divine.  As such, we have special rights and special responsibilities.  When we live our lives in accordance with this covenant, we find ourselves happier, healthier, and more whole.  In my understanding, this brit is part of the purpose of the entire world.  By fulfilling the mitzvot, by observing the commandments, we are truly helping to improve the world on a cosmic level.  Now, whether or not you believe in the Gd-shaped hole I spoke about last year, or see your life as having such cosmic significance, most people find greater satisfaction in their lives when they see themselves as part of mission.  The unification of Gd, Torah and Israel bring us to a realization of the covenant and to our greater purposes as Jews.  I understand that not all of us understand Gd, Torah and Israel in exactly the same way.  That is OK.  Learning and living together, we bring a deeper wisdom and a deeper connection to Gd.

I believe that Gd limits Gd’s own power, giving us free will.  This means we have the responsibility to make good choices--just like a responsible parents teaches their child about right and wrong, and then gives them the freedom to make good choices (at developmentally appropriate ages).  Yet, sometimes everything works out perfectly, whether we call it karma or Divine Providence, in my kishkes, I know there is more to it!

Torah was a gift through revelation at Sinai, yet as Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote, Torah was our first Midrash.  The Holy Scroll we read from was touched by human hands, by scribes and scholars who tried to turn what they heard into a document we read today. Through our oral tradition, through our commentaries, through our conversations, the text and the law changes to reflect our own situation, the revelation continues to THIS VERY DAY.  Gd might have known that one day teenagers would have iPhones, but the Talmud did not.  We have to figure out what use of them is kosher!  As Jews, we must continue to adapt to the world, but help the world adapt to us--bringing our Jewish values to every aspect of our lives, to everything we do.

Israel is a gift.  It is a land, a people, a nation, a modern country.  It was given to Abraham by Gd and through the miracle of the United Nations, Jewish dreamers, and the Israel Defense Forces, it came from practically nothing into a great nation.  Today it is a vibrant country.  While not without its challenges and its numerous detractors, Israel is our home, our refuge.  If life changes here or for our brethren around the world, we are safer when we have a place where we can escape, as needed.  The very existence of this state is a miracle.

With every fiber of my being, I believe that the Brit, the covenant with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah, is expressed authentically and powerfully through Conservative Judaism.  In our movement, we see that when we open our doors to all Jews (and those with Jewish souls who have not yet discovered their Judaism), we can understand Gd, Torah and Israel more fully and fruitfully.  By acknowledging that women are human beings with Jewish obligations, counting them in a minyan, accepting their right to stand on and teach from the bimah, we see our tradition more powerfully.  Different people have different strengths, keeping an entire group of people out of leadership roles deprives the Jewish people and community of essential leadership.  Sexuality is an important expression of our family values, yet our understanding of family is changing.  Some families have a father and a mother, others have two moms, or two dads.  That is not a threat to our faith or our society, but an opportunity to bring holiness into the world.  

Jewish law, halacha, is neither static nor unchanging.  It reflects the context and the culture of the time--as well as the Divine Will.  In a Jewish book store, I once saw a yiddish book about Passover.  In it, Jews wearing streimels (fur hats) and black coats crossed the sea--with no women in sight.  Within 100% certainty, I can tell you that the Israelites did not wear fur hats.  They wore what their Egyptian neighbors wore.  This is an important reminder that modesty, appropriate clothing for shul and work, all change depending on the context, yet is an important Jewish value.  I am not about to wear a bathing suit to shul, but if I was in a swim meet, it would not be appropriate for me to wear a kittel either!  

When I eat, I make choices about the food that enters my body.  As part of that sacred covenant, I keep kosher.  In my own home, every processed food item has a hechsher, a mark showing that it is kosher.  Yet, I also believe in the Jewish values of k’vod habriut, of respect for others.  I know of the importance of hachnasat orchim, of welcoming guests.  If you do not YET have a kosher home, I will still come visit, if invited.  I will even have a cup of coffee, something to drink or something kosher in your house.  My relationship with YOU is just as important as my relationship with Gd.  I see within each one of you the Divine spark, the reminder that you were created b’tzelem Elohim, in the image of GD.

Conservative Judaism has a tremendous future ahead of it.  As the vital center of American (and worldwide) Judaism, it teaches that we can and must be a part of the world around us.  We were not meant to hide behind ghetto walls, but must be demonstrating to the world the values that we live by.  We must teach those around us that to be good Jew is to be a good person, that responsible business ethics, medical ethics, mentschligkeit, are the core of Jewish values.  While neither Orthodoxy or Reform are monolithic, while each has strengths and weaknesses, I believe that Conservative Judaism is STILL the future of American Judaism.  We can be authentic, knowledgeable in our own traditions, while living fully as Americans.  We can recognize the wisdom in our greater society, while rejecting the materialism and violence that seems to be a part of that society.  In this country, we are blessed with a Constitution.  While some of its rights are regularly debated, we live here in safety, security and with great opportunity.  In America, we can live freely as Jews, can promote our viewpoints without threat and thrive.  As Conservative Jews, it may be time for us to be more vocal about our views.  We are the founders and supporters of virtually every Jewish communal organization in the country.  Around the country, Conservative Jews are the biggest donors to both Federation and Chabads--that is a good thing--unless you are donating to Chabad because you think they are more Jewish than we are--THEN it is a BIG problem.  As the bridge between Reform and Orthodox, Conservative Jews are uniters.  While we can suffer from middle child syndrome, we must speak up, teach our children and demonstrate that we are living examples of our tradition.  We are essential parts of the Jewish chain of tradition.  We need to shout that from the rooftops.  To a certain level, we need to evangelize within and without.  We need to teach others that they can find more holiness in their lives by observing Jewish tradition and if they are not yet Jewish, we need to welcome them in and help them find their Jewish neshamas.
My message this morning is that we should not despair, but hope.  My classmate, Rabbi Joshua Rabin, wrote similarly in this quarter’s Kolot: Voices of Conservative Judaism.  Read it and be inspired!

Recently, I spoke with a member of the community.  In no uncertain terms, he told me that he was glad he was older, that he had lived a wonderful life and was not sure that was going to be possible for the next generation.  This person had lived through World War Two, the Shoah, the Korean War, Vietnam, race riots in this country, the Civil Rights Movement and so much more.  My response was that I could not imagine being born in any other time, that I am happy now and see that there is so much hope for the future.  Don’t listen to those screaming the end is near.  The future is bright, IF we work to make it so.

Wednesday night, I began with a story of hope.  Yesterday and on Yom Kippur, I am continuing this message.  Yes, there is systematic change needed for our country to thrive.  We need to make sure that poor people get a real chance at the American Dream, that education is affordable, that public schools are excellent, that an education brings opportunities for good jobs here and not just in China or India.  We have to make sure that a Jewish life is affordable, that kosher food does not break the bank.  We have to make sure that our institutions do not just survive but thrive, that they teach moral character, Jewish values, and inspire their members to live better, more whole, more fruitful lives.  Even with President Obama, race remains a complicated and fraught issue in this country.  There is much work to be done.

In a complex world, it is easy to despair.  We can say that hope is lost, that nothing can change, that WE cannot change.  Yet time and again, we discover that with a little bit of elbow grease, much can be accomplished.  Martin Luther King, Junior spoke powerfully, "Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that."

As Jews, we have a responsibility to be an Ohr LaGoyim, a light unto the nations.  To be that light, we need hope.  We need the confidence that we are working on a great task, working on a great partnership, working with Gd.  Looking around this room, I know that we are going in the right direction.  We are working on a Holy Mission.  As, Andy Grammar has been singing,
I know it's hard, know its hard,
To remember sometimes,
But you gotta keep your head up, oh,
And you can let your hair down, eh.
CAI is a place where you can let your hair down, and together we can lift our heads and hearts up.  At the end of the day, there is no place I would rather be than right here, with you, right now.  Today is the day the Lrd has made, rejoice in it!
L'Shanah Tovah Tikatevu, May you be written for a good year.

ps All song lyrics are the property of their copyright holders.