Sh'ma Koleinu - Hear Our Voices

Remembering Debbie Friedman on the 1st Yarzheit

2012-01-27T14:00:00.001-05:00

This post was previously published at myjewishlearning.com and is reprinted here on the eve of the 1st yarzheit for Debbie Friedman

On January 9, 2011, a sweet singer of Israel, Debbie Friedman, passed away. While her Hebrew yahrzeit is at the end of this month, for many this is becoming a month of remembrance. Family gatherings, concerts in her memory, special Shabbat Shira dedications in early February, as her legacy and her songs live on.

On Monday night, I ended my eighth grade class with a brief sharing of some of my own personal interactions with Debbie, and the enormous role she had in pointing the way to the path that became my life as a rabbi. When I teach Torah about m’lachim – angels in Jewish tradition, I often point out how, when they show up in our holy text, they bring a message that redirects the life path of the one being visited. Think Hagar (twice), Jacob wrestling with an angel, Joseph meeting a ‘man’ in a field who redirects him to find his brothers (without which the rest of the Joseph story that we have recently read in this year’s Torah cycle might never have unfolded). When I teach these texts, I ask people to think of the encounters in their own lives that might fall into this domain. Debbie was most certainly ones of those people for me. One of the last songs she wrote was a new setting for Shalom Aleichem – the poem we sing on Erev Shabbat to welcome the Sabbath angels into our homes and our lives … how fitting.

Many have written far more eloquently than I about the legacy of Debbie’s music; how she transformed the way we sang our souls to God, and the sound of prayer in our sanctuaries; and how her blending of English and Hebrew enabled us to understand and connect with the prayers in a deeper way. For me, and for many who had personal encounters with Debbie, whether they were intimate friends, or once-only events, the legacy that we remember goes beyond the gift of the music. In the outpouring of remembrances that were shared online in the days and weeks that followed her passing, what so many shared was the way that Debbie was deeply and truly present to others. She had a gift for seeing within another person and, in that moment, asking the most important question. She was a Spiritual Director of sorts, although she would never have claimed that label.

During this month of January as I remember, sing Debbie’s songs, look through old photographs, and connect with others, I know that all who do likewise, in the USA and beyond, are truly making her memory be for a blessing. ‘And you shall be a blessing’, she sang to us. Now we sing it for her.

At the end of my eighth grade class, I played the original recording of Debbie as a teenager singing the Shema. I told them how young she had been when she began to write these melodies, how she song-lead at camp, how she went on to touch so many thousands of lives. I pray that, while they will never have the blessing of meeting Debbie Friedman, they may still be touched by her gifts and inspired by her life.

NFTY - Our teens inspire and teach us

2012-01-05T17:58:00.000-05:00

Last week I went up to the URJ Eisner Camp for a day during the December Institute of NFTY-NE - the regional winter gathering of our movement's youth group. There were over 150 teens there and, in the short number of hours I spent there, I learned and I was inspired.

I arrived in time to lead a fun and noisy session - a drum circle. As I told the teens, I profess no great expertise in teaching anyone else to drum. I do have good rhythm and average drumming skills, but we happen to own a particularly large drum collection, making it possible for me to offer this to about 15 people. Of course, a group drumming session like this offers a fun and informal way to explore not only rhythmic abilities but also skills of leadership and followship. What was wonderful for me to see was that, while I came armed with a few ideas to make one round of drumming a little different from the next, leaders in the group naturally emerged ... getting us up and marching around the room (and eventually around the building), leading a call and response round, and suggesting chants to add to the few that I'd brought to give us something to drum along to.

Next, I observed a teen-written and teen-run program about labels and terms used so often in derogatory ways and the real mental or physical health issues that they relate to. It was a tough program to maintain momentum with, but I was so impressed by the seriousness and dedication of the teen leaders who led the discussion groups, and the incredibly supportive participation of the teens. Every synagogue board and committee could learn from watching these kids in action!

The highlight of the visit for me was watching Michael Kalmans, the Co-President of our Temple Youth Group, BIFTY, lead the evening prayer service that he had written. In its creativity, spirituality, social conscience and beauty it was inspiring. In so many ways it was 'outside the box' and, simultaneously, one of the most spiritual services I've been to in a very long time.

In the busy lives that our teens live, and the heavy workload of school, it is harder these days for Temple youth groups to find a place in the schedules and priorities of our kids' lives. Yet the power and importance of NFTY goes far beyond the social hang-out space that these groups provide. The values of the organization, and the empowerment and life skill set that NFTY provides for our teens is priceless. How much so? Please watch this powerful video made by a NFTY teen who was another regional gathering over the same week. There is just one word... Inspiring!

Is contemporary Jewish chanukah music 'going Greek'?

2011-12-23T17:31:00.000-05:00

I love telling the story of Chanukah. Like so many of our Jewish holidays, it is a wonderful and fascinating study in how rituals and myth and religious experiences come to be. As we begin our exploration of this holiday, we might think that there is a story that is told, born out of a historical experience, recorded for us in the Books of Maccabees. We celebrate the victory of the Maccabees over the Syrian-Greek empire in taking back control of Jerusalem and re-dedicating their holy Temple, which had been desecrated through a previous re-dedication to the Greek god, Zeus. The Books of Maccabees never quite made it into the official canon of Jewish Holy books, and the Rabbis reasons for that were partly a matter of dates but mainly a matter of politics. That's a longer story, but the result for us is that, while many Jews know the basic story of Chanukah, almost none have read the 'original' in the Books of Maccabees themselves. The story to be found there (and I'm not going to give the game away) is somewhat different from the folk version that most of us have had passed down to us through the ages. For a detailed review of the historical evolution of Chanukah, take a look at the essays at myjewishlearning.com

One of the things that is often not emphasized in the folk re-telling of the story is the inner conflict between Jews about the extent to which Greek culture - Hellenism - could appropriately be absorbed into Jewish life, culture and practice. The Maccabees, it seems, may have been zealous to an extreme in their distaste for Hellenism, while there were plenty of Jews in Jerusalem and beyond who embraced Hellenism and sought ways to maintain their Jewish faith and practice but in a way that enabled them to fully participate in the culture that was unfolding around them. (see here for a longer essay on this).

Today, we celebrate the victory of the Maccabees, and a miracle of light. But, if the Maccabees represented the anti-assimilationist, anti-Hellenist stance, what are we to make of the way we celebrate Chanukah today? We sing Maoz Tzur to a melody taken from a medieval German marching tune. We eat latkes and donuts - neither of which are 'native' to the Middle East, but represent a claiming of central European food traditions onto which we add a Jewish layer by connecting them to the miracle of the oil. We play dreidle - an ancient gambling game that can be traced back as far as 11th century England, and probably made its way into Jewish life in the 13th or 14th century in Germany. We added our own set of 4 letters to remember the Chanukah story (Nes Gadol Hayah Sham - a great miracle happened there).

And this year we see so many new Chanukah songs and videos that engage and delight us, all of which borrow in style and, more often, in actual tune, from the secular pop music world. I've posted some of my favorites from this year below.

So... did the Maccabees really win? Or have we Jews been 'Going Greek' ever since?
I believe that what we see is true of the way we have absorbed the richness of so many cultures through food, music, rituals and games is, in fact, simply a truth about being human. This is what we do. Its not 'good' or 'bad'... it just 'is'. And the miracle is that we've been doing it since the very first generation of Jews and yet, while the Greek, Babylonian and Roman empires (and many more since) have come and gone, we are still here. Not in spite of our constant adaptations to the world around us and the cultures we come into contact with but precisely because of them. Well - that's what I believe. Feel free to pitch in and add your thoughts in the comments section below.
Happy Chanukah!

Engaging our Teens

2011-12-13T16:49:00.000-05:00

cross-posted from the Rabbis Without Borders Blog at myjewishlearning.com

At Congregation B’nai Israel, Bridgeport, CT, I’m blessed with a class of almost 30 eighth graders and we meet weekly on Monday evenings.

Last week, we began a conversation with them that emerged from a desire to highlight the upcoming Reform movement biennial conference. I haven’t attended a Biennial for several years, but they are always exciting opportunities for me to hear how visions are being articulated and what kinds of new ideas are being incubated. Some of that comes from the official program but, as is so often the case with these large conferences, its the one-to-one conversations that we get to have with old friends, and new people that we chance upon that provide some of the great food-for-thought. And praying on Shabbat with approximately 5,000 people (the estimated turnout this year) is a unique experience.

This year, Teen Engagement is one of the key areas of focus, with a special track of the conference dedicated to this work. The old models of top-down movement-led design of a program to be launched and rolled out across the country is gone. Instead, a vision of a much more fluid and dynamic project that involves teens in conversations to co-create new opportunities is the direction we are heading.

I wanted my teens in my eighth-grade class to know about this, and gain a sense of being part of something bigger. We began with an initial trigger video, playing this:

While the context for this video is Israel, and the miracle of returning to the land, we extended the conversation to ask our teens how they respond to an idea of carrying a heritage and being part of ‘the hope’ for what might still be to come. The core of our conversation turned to the challenges they identified to their being engaged in Jewish life and activity and, finally, to some of the creative ideas they might have to respond to those challenges.

I don’t think I can truly do justice to what emerged during the conversation, but it was indeed very hopeful and helpful. We only had limited time, and I’m sure the conversations will continue, but the two areas they focused on was the communal worship experience, and ways of engaging in Jewish culture and ideas that tapped into some of the cultural forms and technologies that they are utilizing in the rest of their lives.

On the worship front, they sought more diverse expressions and experiences, and a musical style that had the energy of the music that some of them knew from Jewish summer camp. While this music has been a major influence on the evolving music of prayer in the Reform movement from the mid-1970s, there is no question that the newest sounds still emerge from camp, and a multi-generational service is not going to be the same experience as an age-specific experience. But the generation-specific sounds are not the only reason why young adult independent minyanim and 20s-30s services in large city-based congregations are proving to be increasingly popular.

My teens also pointed to the way that they are engaged in creating the prayer experience when they are at camp, weaving contemporary themes and readings into the core prayers. This is very much in tune with what we are seeing among our engaged younger generations – a desire for more of a ‘do-it-yourself’ kind of Jewish community, where a Rabbi may offer guidance and support, but is not expected or even wanted to be crafting and leading the whole experience. This kind of inclusive engagement in creating communal prayer experiences is working for teens and young adults beyond the Jewish community too. Rev. Nadia Bolz-Weber, a Lutheran minister in Boulder, CO, leads an emergent Christian community that uses this approach to shape the worship experience. She says that it is important that the worshipers are producing and not consuming. ”Sometimes things are a little ‘clunky’ but its completely worth it because the people are really owning it,” she says.

Beyond the world of synagogue and Jewish worship, my teens had expressed the ‘otherness’ that they sometimes feel in their public school context, where they could name countless examples of ignorance of Judaism or ways in which their sense of Jewish identity was so different to outsider perceptions. But their pride in their identity was strong, and they sought more opportunities to be with teens who ‘get it’. Not necessarily through more face-to-face opportunities – these kids already have heavily scheduled lives – but they brainstormed things like a Jewish Facebook for under-18 Jewish teens who wanted to talk about ‘Jew-stuff’ or a Jewish kind of Second Life where they could experiment with different kinds of virtual Jewish experiences and explore more of Judaism for themselves (these kids haven’t discovered ‘Second Life’ yet, otherwise they might know that there is already quite an extensive area of Israel, synagogues and more already there.

They also loved getting ‘Jewish answers’ to the everyday things … how about a ‘Jewish Siri’?

So much of what I heard in this brief conversation and brainstorm reinforced what we with Rabbis Without Borders at CLAL (the National Jewish Center for Learning and Leadership) have been discussing for some time now as we seek to better understand the contemporary cultural contexts in which we passionately share paths to Jewish life. There are start-up organizations, online communities, and worship communities already responding to the next generation, but ‘mainstream’ Jewish institutions and congregations have a ways to go. I’m encouraged by a Biennial conference that is opening to new conversations and forms of engagement. As we respond and co-create an evolutionary Judaism together, within and beyond Jewish movements, we need only ask the questions and we’ll find that our youth have plenty to say.

The role of music in the healing of Gabrielle Giffords

2011-11-16T10:00:00.017-05:00

Yesterday morning, in a weekly class on Jewish mysticism that I teach in the local community, we were concluding our study of the ten psalms that Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav selected for the practice of the Tikkun haKlali - the Complete Repair. Rabbi Nachman (1772-1810) was referring to a spiritual repair - healing at a cosmic level - in which all that was broken would be healed and the flow of Divine energy through the sephirotic system found in the teachings of Kabbalah would come down to us unhindered. This system consisted of 10 Divine attributes which, together, form the kabbalistic Tree of Life. There are a multitude of explanations and allegorical images used in kabbalistic tradition to try and convey something of the nature of these 10 attributes. Among them, Rabbi Nachman spoke of 10 melodies - 10 kinds of sound resonance that, when unblocked, would vibrate in perfect harmony with each other, bringing perfection and wholeness to the world.

I sometimes liken the teachings of Kabbalah to that of theoretical or particle physics, not only because there are some truly amazing resonances between some of the teachings in each discipline, but because Kabbalah is very abstract and requires translation into something that we can respond to in the here and now. Rabbi Nachman, by proposing a ritual practice of the recitation of 10 psalms, sought to provide a spiritual methodology by which even an individual could make a small contribution to the greater Tikkun by speaking words that he believed carried the resonances of the ten kinds of melody. At the very least, these might help to release some of our own blockages as we seek to be more 'in tune' with ourselves and with others.

The last of the ten psalms is Psalm 150:

Hallelujah. Praise God in His sanctuary; praise Him in the firmament of His power.

Praise Him for His mighty acts; praise Him according to His abundant greatness.

Praise Him with the blast of the horn; praise Him with the psaltery and harp.

Praise Him with the timbrel and dance; praise Him with stringed instruments and the pipe.

Praise Him with the loud-sounding cymbals; praise Him with the clanging cymbals.

Let every thing that has breath praise Yah. Hallelujah. (JPS, 1917)

In the context of Rabbi Nachman's Tikkun HaKlali, this psalm literally vibrates with the sounds of the instruments played in the ancient Temple of Jerusalem. Rabbi Nachman taught about the spiritual importance of fostering joy, and the power of music and of singing to lift oneself up, even from the most difficult of circumstances. Our study group considered the power of song and of music at multiple levels.

It was in this context that a member of our study group thought of the example of Rep. Gabrielle Giffords, and the role that music and song has played quite literally in her physical healing. If sound has the power to shatter glass, might it not also have a literal potential to heal, in addition to the emotional and spiritual sustenance that it can provide?

Rep. Giffords has been working with a music therapist, among others also tending to her treatment and recovery. Music has had the power to tap into her memory, and assisted with regaining language mastery, as the music appears to help the brain to access new ways to communicate. Her therapist, Morrow, explains: "It's creating new pathways in the brain ... Language isn't going to work anymore, so we have to go to another area and start singing and create a new pathway for speech...

Music is also linked to brains areas that control memory, emotions, and even movement. "The thing about music is that it's something that's very automatic -- part of our old brain system," Morrow said. "If I play a rhythm, I can affect the rest of the body. The body naturally aligns with a rhythm in the environment."

Throughout my childhood I often accompanied my mother who would go and sing at Assisted Living and Nursing Homes. And time and time again, I would witness residents who would not or could not easily speak or communicate any more literally return to full life when the music began. Intentionally singing a repertoire of music that would be familiar from their youth, my mother would have residents singing along, moving their bodies - even getting up to dance.

The enormous power of music and sound, working at the physical, emotional and spiritual level, has always been evident to me. It has been an integral part of my Jewish spirituality as I have found ways to access the meaning of our rituals and our prayers through the vehicle of the melodies we bring to them. Rabbi Nachman understood this two hundred years ago. We're just beginning to tap into the potential that vibration, sound, and song have to bring healing to our lives.

What happens next? Reflections on Steve Jobs' last words

2011-11-03T17:56:00.000-04:00

In the last few days, many people have been talking about the eulogy that Mona Simpson, Steve Jobs' sister, gave at his funeral. More specifically, her sharing of his last words:

The Huffington Post reported: In a stirring eulogy delivered at Jobs' memorial, held at Standford University's Memorial Church on October 16, Simpson revealed the last words Jobs uttered mere hours before he died. Her tribute to her brother was reprinted by the New York Times on October 30. According to the Times' printed version, Simpson said Jobs had been looking at the members of his family, gathered around his bed, when he gazed past them and said," OH WOW. OH WOW. OH WOW."

Much has been said by media pundits, blogged, and talked about in homes, over coffee and around water coolers, about what those last words might have meant. I'm not going to provide 'the answer', or even 'a Jewish answer'. We simply don't know. Way back in the Talmud (compilation of Rabbinic writings from approx. 0-500 CE), Rabbi Joshua ben Chanania said, 'When they come to life again, we will consult about the matter.' (Niddah 70b). Of course, this in itself might be understand as the declaration of a particular belief - that one day the dead will rise again. But this quote came to mind because, in effect, ben Chanania is also saying that we simply aren't able to say with any certainty what happens after we die and until someone comes back to our world to tell us how it is, we're not going to be able to reach any conclusions.

What is interesting to me is the widespread response to Steve Jobs' last words. A few weeks ago I was discussing beliefs about God with some of my eighth grade class. One group that I was talking to largely expressed that they didn't think they believed in something after death, but that they wished they did - they liked the idea, and found it comforting. In a recent discussion about death and dying at Fairfield University where I was a guest speaker, some students expressed belief in a heaven, but they no longer held to the idea that one would be judged and one's destination depended on choices in this world. Perhaps there was just one 'place' where we all went, and perhaps it was more a transferral of energy or awareness, but not an actual physical place. Some expressed that it was in actions, family, and memory that we 'lived on', but only in those kinds of realms in this world.

While we may not be able to achieve clarity of answer, both the ideas we have and the questions we have about life after death are core questions that human beings have pondered since we walked on this earth. Every culture, every civilization, and every religion has had one or more ways of responding to the question. The great Jewish teacher and philosopher of the twelfth century, Maimonides, wrote extensively of the ideas found among the Jewish people in his introduction to Perek Helek. Maimonides was largely dismissive of most the mainstream ideas of his time, and implied that they taught us more about what people valued in this world than informed us of the truth of what happens when we die.

As a Rabbi, I've had enough exchanges with people about near death experiences, or the sense of presence of a loved one after they have died, that I have come to believe that something continues after our physical death on this earth. I've had personal experiences that have brought me to that place of believing in an energy - what some might call the Soul - that goes on. And, while I know those same experiences could be explained in other ways, I find my belief comforting and I believe it is comforting to others. An important part of my faith involves being able to live in the space of 'not knowing'. I am able to experience the mystery of life and Creation in a deep and visceral way when I am able to occupy that space of not knowing. This is an important part of my spiritual awareness.

And so, while I don't know what Steve Jobs, may he rest in peace, saw or felt in his last breaths, I hope his soul is united again with the energetic source of all existence. I hope it is quite incredible - the kind of incredible to which we might only be able to utter 'Oh wow!'
Rachel Gurevitz

Creating Jewish memories this Simchat Torah

2011-10-19T14:23:00.000-04:00

There's always a lot of energy at B'nai Israel on erev Simchat Torah, which we celebrate this evening at 5.30p.m. Our Junior choir sings and our Temple Band plays. It makes for a special service with young and older brought together.

This year we have an additional special component, bringing in some of the youngest people in our community, and their families. For over a year now, Rabbi Nicole Wilson-Spiro has led a weekly Young Families Chavurah on Shabbat morning. Breakfast, yoga, music and prayer, stories, crafts, snack and play time - the chavurah offers a rich morning of Shabbat celebration for pre-school aged children. And it offers a great place for parents to meet each other and create new friendships in the Jewish community.

The chavurah has evolved and has generated innovative ideas and ways of celebrating Jewish life that are often out of the box. A summertime Havdalah gathering included an Earthwalk at a local nature reserve, topped off with making smores around a campfire. Apple picking before Rosh Hashanah at one of our local (and congregant-owned!) farms, Silverman's, has been a big hit two years in a row. In a couple of weeks, when we read the story of Noah, a special convoy of animals from our local Beardsley Zoo are coming to visit the children at the chavurah on Shabbat morning at our Temple.

This Simchat Torah, the creativity and innovation that the chavurah has brought to B'nai Israel will be front and center of our Bima at the start of the service. After a year of the cuddly torahs that our kids march around the chapel with every Shabbat coming in and out of a large cardboard box, the Young Families Chavurah will be dedicating their very own Ark, especially designed to house these baby torah scrolls. Sponsored by one of the families, designed by a local artist, and including the artistic contributions of many of the children who attend regularly, this is a very exciting project for our youngest children to see in its completion.

Our services are starting earlier than usual (6pm, after flagmaking at 5.30pm) so that our youngest children can enjoy them. They'll get to experience the music, see older children that they look up to singing and leading the prayers, and get to dance with their Torah scrolls when we take out the rest of the Sifrei Torah from our sanctuary Ark. And then, in a tradition that many congregations are now sharing, they'll get to see an entire scroll unwrapped around the room.

For children who are 2, 3 or 4 years old, tonight is going to be an exciting night that I don't think they'll easily forget - creating a Jewish memory that is special and something that I think they will want to experience again next year. Their parents too!

But Simchat Torah is not just for kids! For the rest of us for whom this isn't so new, imagine coming to celebrate Simchat Torah tonight and trying to see and feel the experience as if through the eye's of one of these children. What Zen Buddhists would call 'Beginner's Mind.' Imagine the renewed joy we would bring to responding to the music; when we felt our toes tapping, we would get up and dance because we don't have any layers of self-consciousness that have built up over decades, blocking our access to that joy and movement. We would sing and clap, because we were moved to do so and we hadn't built up years of inhibitions about whether our voices were good enough. We would smile and laugh, because we would find the smiles ad laughs of the children around us infectious.

Now stop imagining. If you are local, come and join us for Simchat Torah this evening! And if you are reading from further afield, I hope you have a community close to where you live - check their websites or give them a call, and celebrate like its 5772! We all deserve new opportunities in a new year to make meaningful Jewish memories.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Wishing you Well over the Fast

2011-10-07T09:02:00.000-04:00

May you delve deeply into the pages of your life, seeking understanding, love and compassion.
May you release yourself from the ink smudges, strike-outs, poor choices and long-winded yet aimless passages of past chapters.
May you weave deep and meaningful connections with others into the story you tell of your own life.
May you recommit to writing all that is essential and significant in your Book of Life.

Wishing you well over the Fast,
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Blogging Elul 5771: Did you remember to set your alarm clock?

2011-09-27T15:00:00.000-04:00

This piece was published by one of our local weekly newspaper consortiums, Hersam Acorn, and appeared in print this week in the Amity Observer, Bridgeport News, Milford Mirror, and Trumbull Times.

This entry is my closing posting for Elul 5771. I wish you all a Shanah Tovah um'tukah - a Sweet and Happy New Year. May we all experience fully the blessing of life, and offer blessings to others through our words and deeds.

Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, which begins on Wednesday, September 28 in the evening, is a very different kind of New Year to January 1^st. ‘The Choosing’ is a recently-published memoir in which a Jew-by-choice and now Rabbi, Andrea Myers, tells the story of the first year her Italian-Catholic family encountered Rosh Hashanah. She was living back at home with her parents and, after a long walk to a synagogue for evening services on the first night of the New Year, she returned home late, quite exhausted. She was awoken at midnight from a deep sleep when her family, wanting so lovingly to help her celebrate, arrived in her bedroom clanging pots and pans, letting off streamers, and shouting ‘Happy New Year!’ The loud sounds more typically heard on Rosh Hashanah are the blasts of the shofar – the ram’s horn, and we usually hear those at the quite respectable time of late morning. The shofar is, however, metaphorically, our communal ‘wake up’ call.

While the secular New Year is a time when many people make ‘New Years’ Resolutions’, the Jewish New Year marks a period of time when we first look back at our deeds from the past year. Our worship liturgy speaks of God who holds us accountable, but the inner work that the New Year requires of us is really about how we hold ourselves accountable and take responsibility for our mistakes, the hurt we have caused others, and the ways we have behaved unethically or thoughtlessly. If we really engage in this spiritual work, we can emerge ten days later, at the end of Yom Kippur – the Day of Atonement – transformed. If we have the courage to speak to those whom we have hurt, and ask forgiveness, we can transform the relationships we have with others.

In the world we live in today, it almost feels deeply unfashionable to talk of a spiritual practice and a faith community that asks us to engage in a personal accountability inventory in this way. There are those who speak in the name of faith, or offer spiritual paths, that emphasize what these things can do for you. What about what we can do for others? Faith is not about wish fulfillment. It is about the meaning and purpose of our very existence as human beings. It is about being fully present to life and to each other in all of the downs as well as the ups. It is about the hard work of doing things together as communities with shared values, recognizing that no one person is more important than another, yet at the same time each and every one of us is necessary and has a unique voice to add as we work together to make things better.

As the Jewish community arrives at Rosh Hashanah, my hope and prayer is that we can learn from the wisdom of our ancient faith traditions, and hear the sound of the shofar as our alarm clock, reminding us of the perils of living in too much of ‘me’ society and not enough of an ‘us’ society. The spiritual work of taking account, repairing what we can, and rededicating ourselves to the future takes courage and strength. May we, by coming together, give each other the courage and strength that we need.

Shanah tovah u’m’tukah – May it be a sweet and good year for all.

Blogging Elul 5771: Lighting the way to peace

2011-09-20T15:10:00.000-04:00

Have you been following the Jewels of Elul this year? Craig Taubman, musician, compiles short daily postings from a wide range of contributors on an annual theme that is woven into the pre-High Holyday month of Elul. This year the theme is 'light' and postings have come from authors, politicians, musicians, activists and spiritual leaders from all walks of life, Jewish and non-Jewish.

I always find the Jewels of Elul to be insightful, but this year the most powerful posting that I have found so far came not from one of the official contributors, but from the page where anyone can leave a comment. Craig received a short teaching from the great Jewish teacher and leader of the twentieth century, Rav Kook. It was sent to him by Don Abramson. He shared it on the comments page. I'm re-sharing it below. It speaks for itself.

“There are those who mistakenly think that world peace can only come when there is a unity of opinions and character traits. Therefore, when scholars and students of Torah disagree, and develop multiple approaches and methods, they think that they are causing strife and opposing shalom. In truth, it is not so, because true shalom is impossible without appreciating the value of pluralism intrinsic in shalom. The various pieces of peace come from a variety of approaches and methods which make it clear how much each one has a place and a value that complements one another. Even those methods which appear superfluous or contradictory possess an element of truth which contributes to the mosaic of shalom. Indeed, in all the apparent disparate approaches lies the light of truth and justice, knowledge, fear and love, and the true light of Torah.”
Olat HaRe’iah
Rabbi Avraham Yitzchak Kook

Blogging Elul 5771: Connected in so many ways

2011-09-16T12:49:00.001-04:00

Last night I came home from Congregation B'nai Israel after a long a day uplifted and inspired. The inspiration was sparked, in large part, by the last thing I saw before leaving the building. The Board of BIFTY, our Temple Youth Group, had gathered together for an evening of preparation work. On the surface, mundane and repetitive tasks were the order of the evening - one group were busy stapling flyers and envelopes onto 800 paper bags. Another group was stuffing envelopes. So what was so inspiring?

First, the room was full - almost every single member of the board was present, from Freshmen Reps through to the Juniors who are our current leaders. School has just got up and running, and here they were giving of their time to the hard work that goes on behind the scenes of successful programming and Youth group activity.

Second, the work they were doing, beyond bringing them together to connect with each other, represented the start of a chain, the ends of which we will never know entirely or personally. The bags they were preparing are bags that they will hand out on Rosh Hashanah to all of our congregants. Our congregants will bring them back filled with groceries on Yom Kippur, and our Youth Group will empty them into our Connecticut Food Bank Truck and recycle the bags. What was work, but also shmooze time, and youth group program planning time, will spin off from that one hour last night to hundreds of people receiving food to supplement their family meals in a matter of weeks. Our youth, through this simple act, will generate a response from hundreds in our congregation, helping them all do something small to make a difference in the lives of hundreds more.

BIFTY loading the CT Food Bank Truck on Yom Kippur last year

The other mailing they were preparing is being sent to every 9th through 12th grader connected to our congregation, inviting them to be a part of this incredible youth group. Again, in the busy and hectic worlds of our teenagers, I realize that something that might seem so small is in fact huge. I witnessed the enormous pleasure of members of the board arriving and reconnecting with each other after the Summer, and their enthusiasm to share the experience with others - with weekly programs, regional NFTY NE events (excitement is building for the Levi Leap annual dance on October 3rd), social action activities, and more. The sense of identity, belonging, and leadership that builds from the social community that our teens create for themselves will spin out to manifest in ways still unknowable, likely to impact the rest of their lives.

Walking into our Youth lounge last night, I left inspired because what I witnessed was an example of lives lived in the context of community. Perhaps especially inspired because these teenagers instinctively 'get it', or certainly recognize the added meaning it brings to their lives and are willing to exert the effort that it takes to create their own community and make a difference in the lives of others.

As we reflect on our day-to-day lives, the ways in which we exert energy, the communities we are a part of, the ways we actively contribute to them, and the ways in which the small acts we do in these contexts spin out to impact the lives of so many others, known and unknown, let the youth leadership of BIFTY inspire us all. We should never underestimate the power of our actions, and our inactions, to shape the communities and the society of which we are a part.
Shabbat Shalom
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Blogging Elul 5771: On the 10th Remembrance of 9/11

2011-09-09T09:15:00.000-04:00

9/11 Memorial, World Trade Center Site, NYC

As the attention of millions is brought back to events of 9/11 ten years ago, there are countless voices offering their commentaries, their explanations, and their analysis. Our world is turned upside down by acts of hatred and violence, whether the scale be as large as the events of 9/11, or it is the experience of one individual family whose lives are forever changed when a loved one is violently taken from them.

We find ourselves torn from the ordinary, everyday, where we have an unconscious expectation that one day will proceed much like the one before. The sense of certainty and security we have about the existence of the next moment of our lives is shaken.

There is certainly a time and a place for conversations and actions designed to restore our sense of safety and security again. It is not psychologically healthy to live in a state of anxiety about what might be around the next corner. But we might also be reminded that, living in a state of humility, we must accept that the only moment we can ever really know is this one, right now.

There is a time and a place for analysis of what took place on 9/11, and the responses that followed - at an individual, national, and international scale. But there is also a time for silence. A time to stand with individuals and a country remembering those who died. A time to remember the acts of giving and bravery by so many in what turned out to be their last moments. A time to face the monster that is a face of humanity too - our ability to commit great acts of violence against each other.

In this moment I do not seek meaning or explanation. But I am spurred to respond. I am reminded, as I so often need reminding, to live each day fully, to love as fully as I can, to never leave the words that I could say today until tomorrow. I forget this all the time. We all do. We don't need acts of terror or national tragedies to remind us; this month of Elul leading up to Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur - two days that symbolize birth and death respectively, with only 10 days between them - these are part of the rhythm of the Jewish year so that we can pause and consider what we are doing with this gift of existence that we have been given without needing trauma to help us remember.

May the memories of all who died on 9/11 be a blessing in the hearts of all who mourn.

Join us at Congregation B'nai Israel on Sunday morning, 9:45 am, for a morning service of prayer, remembrance and reflection.
We will then join with many other communities of faith, including local Christian and Muslim communities, for an Interfaith outdoor service at The Fairfield Museum, 370 Beach Road, at 3pm. The names of all those who died on 9/11 from Connecticut will be read as part of this ritual that will include readings and music. All are then invited to join Sacred Listening Circles inside the museum to share memories, reflections, and hopes with other local residents in facilitated small groups. The museum also has a photo exhibit on display in remembrance of 9/11.

Blogging Elul 5771: Reflections on our enemies

2011-09-07T17:00:00.007-04:00

Today's blog entry is by student Rabbi Lisa Kingston. Lisa was our rabbinic intern this Summer. She is a fourth year student at Hebrew Union College, New York. She delivers her Senior Sermon next Thursday morning during the morning service at the college.

Psalm 27:

The Eternal is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?

The Eternal is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be terrified?

In my very guts came evil to gnaw and consume me,

But these my troubles, my enemies, stumbled and fell.

Though an army encamp against me, my heart will not fear;

Though war rise up against me, even then I will keep faith.

During the days of Elul it is traditional to read Psalm 27, an affirmation of God’s help and protection when enemies surround us. Today, we may understand it as a plea for God’s help in dealing with the enemies within us. These are the demons of our own true self who frighten us away from living the lives we want.

I think one of the largest demons that can consume us is self-doubt. A friend of mine is studying to be a psychologist and she told me of an interesting conference she recently attended. Instead of wearing traditional nametags, each person in the room was asked to write their biggest fear and wear it upon their chest. One might assume participants would share silly things like a fear of heights or spiders, but people took the exercise to heart and shared what really unnerved them. They shared fears of failure, fears of being a fraud, fears of not being able to help people in the way they hoped, fears of letting down family members, and fears that they were not worthy of their success. We all share fears like these even when we appear confident and successful.

Don’t worry, you wont be asked to wear the badges of your fear publicly this year, but Elul is the time to try to name and face your fears. When you arrive to Rosh Hashanah services this year, try to have at least one fear you want to address written on your heart. Identifying what holds you back can begin your steps to teshuva.

Blogging Elul 5771: Finding full humanity

2011-09-02T10:14:00.000-04:00

Today's blog is by Rabbi Debbie Young-Somers, a colleague in the UK, and one of the Rabbis of the West London Synagogue of British Jews - the founding synagogue of Reform Judaism in the UK. She is a regular on 'Pause for Thought' - a faith-based message featured on BBC Radio 2. Follow Rabbi Young-Somers blog here.

In large part Ellul is here to give us time to consider our relationships with each other and heal them, so that we might more fully return to ourselves and to God on Yom Kippur. Sometimes this may mean making a direct approach to someone and acknowledging that what you said or did was wrong and/or caused pain and apologising for this fact. Today, however, purely by chance, I was reminded that sometimes it's also about having very normal day to day exchanges and experiencing and being open to the full humanity contained in them. It was a very small thing really, but one that was the perfect start to a busy day and a busy shabbat. When I don't have time to make challah (special bread for shabbat) I tend to end up buying it in our local Arabic shop Solomon's, which picks up 2 boxes of challot, bagels and rye breads from a kosher bakery in Hendon every Friday. During the last month I've apologised to them for buying such good smelling bread when they are fasting, and they have grinned appreciatively. This morning I asked how Eid had been for them, and at the end of the conversation, the sales man wished me Shabbat Shalom. Of course this isn't going to change the world. But it changes my immediate surroundings, and brings a humanity to what is otherwise a very sensible business venture for them and a wonderful convenience for me. Building slowly slowly on trust between individuals, perhaps we can, step by step, create a sense of comfort and joy in our beautiful differences which are, after all, what make us human and interesting. So while during Ellul we look to improve the relationships that are perhaps more meaningful and long term, we can also take the opportunity to explore those relationships that are more functional, and instil in them human warmth and encounter, building local community, and appreciating our differences. Shabbat Shalom

Blog Elul 5771: Entering the holy of holies each and every day

2011-08-31T18:30:00.002-04:00

Today is Rosh Hodesh Elul. Inspired by Rabbi Phyllis Sommer, this year I'll be sharing postings a few times a week in the month leading up to Rosh Hashanah, and cross-posting some of my favorites from others who are doing the same. If you use Twitter, you can see who else is blogging their way through the month of Elul by following #blogelul

Artwork by Michael Noyes: michaelnoyes.com

The Hebrew letters of the month of Elul, Aleph, Lamed, Vav, Lamed, were transformed in rabbinic commentary into a representation of the phrase from Song of Songs, Ani l'dodi v'dodi li - I am my beloved's and my beloved in mine. The 117 verses of love poetry that make up the Song of Songs, absent of the explicit mention of God, are a bit of a mystery - why are they part of our holy canon?

Rabbi Akiva argued that this book was like the holy of holies in the Temple; he said that when the messiah came we wouldn’t need all of the commandments in the Torah, but we’d still need the Song of Songs.

The holy of holies was meant to be the innermost part of the Temple in Jerusalem. It was believed to be the place where the High Priest came closest to sensing the Presence of God.

The Song of Songs is an erotic book, but not in the sense that we usually use that term in common language. The love imagery of Song of Songs takes us to a place that is more experiential. It is sensual because it engages all of our senses and the poetry gives us a feeling of something that is very difficult to capture in words. A bit like love itself. We know it when we feel it. I once heard someone describe the holy of holies as being ‘on the inside of the inside’. Being so completely present in the moment that you completely lose the sense of separation. As soon as you notice this, you are no longer in it. I think that can sometimes be the experience of love, but it can also be the experience of listening to a symphony, or hiking up a mountain, or reading a book, or watching your child sleep in their bed.

These are deeply spiritual experiences… or they can be. The poetry of the Song of Songs uses love only as an example. And the Song of Songs makes no explicit mention of God. Yet our tradition suggests that it is when we have these kinds of spiritual experiences – when we are on the inside of the inside and so completely present to the moment we are in – this is the closest we might come to feeling the presence of God.

There are many people who don’t feel comfortable using the ‘G’ word to describe these kinds of experiences. That is partly due to the idea of God that we have inherited from many of our holy texts, and generations that have gone before us, not serving us well in the world we live in today. They were the best attempts of an ancient people to understand their most deeply felt experiences. But, as Rabbi Irwin Kula suggests, maybe its time for a new God – time for new conversations that help us talk about our most deeply felt experiences in ways that help us make meaning in our lives.

Those who have read recent entries in this blog will know that I recently returned from a social action trip with some of my congregants to help rebuilding efforts in Alabama. We worked in a small town called Cordova – about 40 minutes outside of Birmingham. It was a very powerful experience for us, and one of the things we were immediately struck by was the deep language of faith that pervaded the way people there understood their world. And so we were not volunteers coming to help for a week, but ‘God’s hands here to do God’s work.’ I confess, it took us aback a bit. We North Easterners aren’t used to thinking about our lives that way. And yet, our group was deeply moved by it – we recognized that the language they used elevated the way we thought about each little thing we did there and each interaction we had with the people who lived in Cordova.

I think that’s the secret of the Song of Songs. Its just a book of love poetry, or it’s the holiest book that we have. And the holy of holies is just another room in a man-made Temple, or it’s a place where one can feel God’s presence intensely. Whether it is ordinary or holy, a mundane or a spiritual experience, depends on whether we are paying attention, being fully present to the experience, and willing to label these moments of our lives in significant ways or not.

And I think that’s why the month of Elul is connected to the phrase from Song of Songs, ‘Ani l’Dodi v’dodi li’ – I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine. We are invited to pay extra attention this month – to experience life more deeply and reflect on the meaningful moments that can be felt in the midst of the most ordinary of days. This is Jewish mindfulness practice.

As we move toward a New Year, with good intentions to move away from judgment, harshness, anger, impatience, intolerance, and many of those other sins we declare during the high holydays, Elul invites us to see our attempts to be more compassionate, kind, generous, patient, understanding as a spiritual practice.

We sing on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur:
Adonai, Adonai El Rachum v’chanun. Erech apayim, Rav chesed v’emet. Notzer chesed la’alafim, nosei avon vafesha, v’chata’ah v’nakei
The Eternal One, A God merciful and gracious, endlessly patient, loving and true, showing mercy to thousands, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin, and granting pardon.

Maybe we are God’s hands doing God’s work. And maybe these words are there to remind us of who we most want to be in the world.

An unforgettable experience in Alabama: Closing thoughts from our Social Action organizer

2011-08-15T19:58:00.000-04:00

Lorrie Wexler is a member of Congregation B'nai Israel and serves on our board. Active on our Social Action Committee, Lorrie was responsible for all coordination of our service trip to Alabama, corresponding with Bob Gross, our wonderful point person at Temple Emanu-el in Birmingham, booking our flights, and bringing us all together. We leave the final words on our week's experiences to her.

When Rabbi Gurevitz asked me to write the last piece for the blog, I immediately felt a sense of pride.
To think this all began with an email sent to Rabbi Prosnit from Rabbi Miller from Temple Emanu-el in Birmingham, Alabama asking for help with the tornado relief. Three months later we had 12 remarkable people volunteer to help a community in need, just because.

We arrived in historical Birmingham on Monday and by Tuesday afternoon we were in a town called Cordova diving into the work that needed to be done. Cordova became our community that week and we became theirs. Just by being there gave the people who had lost everything a feeling of hope. It was an eye opener for us to learn about their faith, their way of life and delicious culinary delights like vegetable goulash, fried green tomatoes and fried okra.

The church in Cordova was a central location for volunteers to find tools to rebuild homes, eat lunch and dinner, choose furniture and every household item imaginable. These were all donated items.

Suzanne Phillip, George Markley, Lorrie Wexler and Elaine Chetrit outside house no. 1

One afternoon we were fortunate to have the family whose house we were working on stop by. The look on their faces was pure joy.

They never imagined that this house could even be salvaged, let alone turned into this wonderful home that would enable them the opportunity to rebuild their lives. Through our hard work we turned their house into something that was warm and inviting. We schlepped furniture, primed walls, planted trees, put a brick walkway in, hung shutters and stocked their kitchen.

Rabbi Gurevitz, Ari Matz, Emma Pearlstone and Brittany O'Connell
outside House no. 2

The social action committee would like to thank Margo Schiff, Lisa Knicos, George Markley, Suzanne Phillip, Steven Soberman, Andrew Soberman, Elaine Chetrit, Brittany O’Connell, Ari Matz, Emma Pearlstone and Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz.

Andrew having way too much fun on a tractor

This wonderful group of people volunteered their time and their own money to make this happen.
We worked hard together, sweated together, laughed together and cried together.
What a truly gifted community of people to share the week with.
Lorrie Wexler

Below is some video footage that shows the devastation caused by the tornado in Cordova in the immediate aftermath - while most of the debris had been cleared by the time we arrived, the scale of the destruction gives some sense of what it means to rebuild this community:

B'nai Israel service trip to Alabama: The youth perspective

2011-08-12T17:46:00.000-04:00

Today's blog entry from our social action volunteers in Alabama is written by our three teen participants, Ari Matz, Brittany O'Connell, and Emma Pearlstone

Beginning to take down and recycle cinder blocks, one by one

Hello from the jew crew in Cordova, Alabama! Helping in the relief efforts continues to be an exciting adventure for all of us. Being the energetic youth of our group, Ari, Emma, and Brittany were able to help. We spent today tediously chiseling cinder blocks off a partially demolished garage. In order to recycle the blocks for another house, we had to individually remove all of the cement from the edges of the blocks. On prior days of working we were in the midst of cleaning and organizing the equipment in the house when we stumbled upon some bullets, a few of which were loaded and also a bunch of casings. Emma wanted to take them home with her to Connecticut, but since she was taking only carry on and no one would carry it for her, she and the explosives were forced part ways.
Later that day a kind man came to the Cordova church to donate 75 watermelons from his farm, since we take our time eating lunch we were there to help volunteer unloading these watermelons. While unloading Emma soon became distracted once again and was found in the midst of playing with a small grey kitten she had found! The kitten was a stray, was very hungry, and wanted love. Happily Emma was there to supply it! Resulting in instead of carrying watermelons she played with her new cat, named Watermelon.

Brittany and the Watermelons

Emma and Watermelon

On our way home from a long day’s work, we listened to our complimentary Sirius Radio. In our quest to find the perfect station, we came across Gospel Music. Stunned by its presence, we immediately broke down into laughter and song. We soon realized the role of religion in Southern society.

Chuy's Mexican Restaurant, with blessings for Protestants, Catholics, and Jews on the silverware wrapper -
an indication of the role of faith in Birmingham, AL

One of the greatest parts of this trip was the van rented from Alamo. We had rented a new navy blue Town & Country, and it was “Like driving a boat”. This giant car was also capable of the amazing powers of the stow and go, allowing the passengers to fold down all seats resulting in a giant flat space that we had come to dedicate for loading materials, taking naps, and having dance parties. When “stowed and go-ed” the passengers had to ride in an alternative vehicle resulting in us riding in the hitched trailer full of cinder blocks.

Transporting the bricks... and a few teens too

At the end of the day we were able to gain a new perspective on the people around us, and the good grace that has fallen upon us in our own lives. By the end of the week we managed to help brighten a victim’s outlook, and build many great memories along the way.

Schvitzing, Sweltering and Satisfied! Day 2 in Alabama

2011-08-11T18:30:00.000-04:00

The 'house staging' team

This morning we all traveled back to the town of Cordova, Alabama, a town some forty-five miles away from our base in Birmingham. The second team has been working on a house that is part of a program called Flipping for Families. While “flipping houses” often connotes trying to rehab houses for profit, here in Cordova the purpose is to rehab old houses and make them livable for families displaced by the tornadoes. When our work coordinator, Andrea, inquired yesterday morning as to who in our group was interested in “staging” a house, hands immediately went up, led by our trip coordinator Lorrie Wexler. She was soon joined by Elaine Chetrit, Suzanne Phillip, and George Markley who, despite his lack of decorating skills, saw benefits to working with three of the women in the group. The house to which we were assigned had been abandoned many years before the tornadoes. Andrea had managed to secure the house by promising its owner that it would be rehabbed provided he would allow the house to be occupied for a year rent-free.

Yesterday Team 2 promptly went off to their house on Johnson Drive, having been told that the house was ready for its occupants to move in except for some decorating. When we got to the house, we soon discovered that, while the house was barely structurally sound (for example, our bathroom has a gaping hole in the floor through which you can see daylight), it hardly was ready for its occupants to move in. It still lacks a stove, a kitchen sink, a toilet, doors on the closet, running water or electricity. We soon learned that the goal of disaster recovery is to get the tornado victims back into homes even if the conditions are sub-optimal. So, we got to work doing our cleaning – washing the walls, sweeping the floors, cleaning the refrigerator, and so on.

You want this where?

Once the house was cleaned, we began “shopping” for furnishings for the house in a garage and parsonage that are no longer being use to house cars or a minister. Instead they are filled with donated items from communities throughout the state. We soon were laying claim to dressers, tables, mattresses and an assortment of “tchotchkes” that we then transported to our house. Today was spent washing windows and placing the furniture. We broke for lunch, served at the church, which was expertly prepared by several of the volunteers, including our own Margo Schiff and several members of the Reform congregation in Morristown, New Jersey. In the afternoon, Margo joined the group at our house, and we all continued cleaning and putting bedding in the house.

Emma, Ari and Brittany resting up after furniture shlepping

By the time the group was done today, the house was fully furnished , even to the extent of having a dining table complete with placemats and place settings for the mother and her 17-year old daughter who lost their home on April 27th and will be moving into this new “B’nai Israel house.”

George Markley, Elaine Chetrit, Suzanne Phillip, Lorrie Wexler, and Margo Schiff

Reporting on B'nai Israel service trip to Alabama, Day 1

2011-08-10T00:24:00.000-04:00

Yesterday afternoon a team of 12 congregants from Congregation B'nai Israel, Bridgeport, CT, arrived in Birmingham, AL, for a week of volunteering in areas devastated by tornadoes, earlier this year. We had a little time late yesterday afternoon to get our bearings and visit part of the Downtown area. We took in the district near the Civil Rights Institute where a Civil Rights Heritage Trail walks visitors through the events that took place on these streets in 1963. The trail was erected in 2010 and consists of life-size original photographs of events on these streets and a brief description of the unfolding of these events. At Kelly Ingram Park, additional sculptures continue to send a message of the lessons learned from that era in Alabama's history.

Sign held by child protestor reads 'Can a man love God and hate his brother?'

Plaque next to a young Horse Chestnut Tree in the Park

Sculpture of Water Canon aimed at children during peaceful civil rights protests in 1963

The images and sculptures were striking and impactful. Striking and impactful are likely to be the two most relevant words to describe our experiences on this service trip to Alabama. This morning, we first checked in with the Christian Service Mission warehouse that coordinates volunteer efforts. This warehouse, which is the size of a Walmart, has been filled and emptied 30 times over since the tornadoes struck, distributing food, clothing, and supplies of all kinds to those in need.

Our group were soon dispatched to the town of Cordova, 40 minutes from downtown Birmingham to connect with a grassroots group of volunteers based in a Baptist church who have been working hard to revive their community and rebuild some of the 70 homes that were lost in the storms. Some images from the town are shown below. At this point, several months on, we no longer see much of the debris that was strewn everywhere, but the clean-up and rebuilding work is going to take several years.

The remains of the Main St in Cordova

The bank vault is all that is left of the Bank in town.

We met Andrea, a one-woman powerhouse - an Attorney by profession - who is almost singlehandedly coordinating the volunteer effort in Cordova. She told us what had happened when two tornadoes ran through the town in the same day. The first had caused relatively minor damage, but it took out power and the warning systems which is why, when the second one came through in the afternoon, so many people were caught off-guard. Her volunteer organization has been helping individuals rebuild but is also taking abandoned homes and flipping them to make them ready for new residents, rent-free for the first year to help rebuild the community in the town. Our team divided into two groups - one to work on a home that was almost ready, to clean up and start organizing some furnishings, and the other to do dry-walling work. I was with the latter team, with Lisa Knicos, Steve and Andrew Soberman, and the three teens on our trip - Brittany O'Connell, Ari Matz, and Emma Pearlstone.

Framing a closet wall for dry wall

An interesting find during house clean-up

One of our teams - all smiles at the end of day 1

I think that one of the big lessons of day 1 was humility; recognizing how small our contribution is, visiting for just a week, compared to those who are dedicating months and months to rebuilding their communities and their homes. Recognizing the limits of our skills as we seek to do things that help and do not hinder the work efforts (an amusing moment this morning, as our coordinator sought to find out what house-building skills we had brought with us was that moment of silence in which many of our group were silently thinking to ourselves, 'We're Jews! We know who to call!').

Another big lesson, and one that generated interesting conversations among our group in private moments, was the enormous role of faith among the local people working to rebuild; not only to give them the strength to do the exhausting work that they are doing, day in and day out, but also to make sense and meaning out of the events that befell them. While we may not share the same theology, we recognize that when they speak of us all being God's hands and doing God's work, we might understand the God-spark in each of us being that which inspires us to do good, or we might understand ourselves to be God's partner in the pursuit of tikkun olam (repair of the world). While we may express our faith in different language, we are inspired by the power of faith to sustain these communities through some of the most difficult times of their lives.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

NFTY in Israel - A letter from our B'nai Israel teens

2011-08-04T11:27:00.000-04:00

Some of our teens who were traveling together with NFTY in Israel wrote to Rabbi Prosnit, describing the incredible experience they have had. We wanted to share their experiences with the congregation (and beyond) - NFTY in Israel is such a transformative and exciting experience for our teens.

In addition to those who signed on to this letter, who were traveling in the same group, Sydney Foulk, Mollie Rich and Jesse Spears are also traveling with NFTY, and Alex Landau and Morgan Glucksman are also having Israel experiences this Summer. For Sydney, the Israel experience will be remembered as an extra-special memory; she had a bat mitzvah ceremony while in Israel, and our teens who talk about this celebration in their letter, made a special arrangement with their group leader to ensure that they could be there to support and celebrate with Sydney. We are so proud to have teens like these in our community.

Dear Rabbi Prosnit,

Shabbat shalom from the holy land! We are writing to you on our final shabbat in Tel Aviv. Our experience in Israel has been powerful and extremely moving. The memories of our adventures will remain with us for the rest of our lives.

Our trip began in Prague where we embraced our Eastern European Jewish culture. Not only did we try exotic foods such as ghoulash and homemade sweet bread, but we also uncovered the thriving Jewish community still prsent in the Czech Republic. When we visited three of the temples still remaining in Prague, we realized that our Jewish heritage survived and prospered even with the antisemitism of the Holocaust. With amazing views and good ice cream, Prague was a magnificent stop on our long journey.

We soon arrived in Poland where we were greeted by a drastic change in weather. The dreary atmosphere was almost fitting for the horrors that we soon experienced. No amount of pictures or black and white videos can begin to describe the power that Auschwitz-Birkenau holds. The visit brought our group together and made us even more excited and proud to be able to visit the Jewish state.

Upon our 3 am arrival in Ben Gurion airport, our excitement and anticipation overpowered our exhaustion. These past four weeks have been spent learning about out Jewish heritage and experiencing all that the land of milk and honey has to offer. During our four day Negev trip, we endured four long and strenuous hikes, enjoyed a few beach and mall trips in Eilat, and jumped, ran, and tumbled down the sand dunes. We then drove to Jerusalem, where we spent our days walking through the Jewish quarter, completing a hike through a water tunnel, shopping in Ben Yehuda street, and visiting the Kotel, or Western Wall. This experience brought our group together through everybody's different feelings and reactions. None of us knew what to expect upon our arrival, and touching the wall with one another is something we will never forget.

Our kehilah kedoshah, or holy community, was split apart for a few days for our different chavayot, or choice experiences. Michael completed Yam L'Yam, or Sea to Sea, which included many hikes and bike rides in order to travel from the Kineret to the Mediterranian Sea. Ari, Molly, and Alexa all ventured off the Gadna, an army training boot camp. There they experienced a taste of what life as an Israeli soldier is like. Sarah went off on the Tikkun Olam trip, where the days were spent helping to repair the world through a variety of activities.

Sydney Foulk reading Torah in Israel (note the Sefardi Torah case)

One of the big highlights of the trip for the five of us came when our group reunited at a hostile near the Kineret for a few days. Not only was the hostile comparable to a Hawaiian resort, but we had the chance to go see our fellow B'nai Israelite and NFTY participant from a different group, Sydney Foulk, become a Bat Mitzvah. Watching our good friend read Torah for the first time, surrounded by a few of her home friends, all of her new friends from her group, and even her family via video chat was such a moving, emotional, and unforgettable experience for us all, and although we knew hardly anybody from her group, the entire service felt like we were one big community.

Sarah Stein, Matt Kalmans, and Molly Blumenthal celebrating with Sydney
(and waving to Sydney's mom and brother on Skype!). Mollie Rich and Ari Matz were also present.

The day after the Bat Mitzvah, we welcomed our new Israeli friends into our group. With them we conquered ropes course, went banana boating in the Kineret, spent a night in a Bedouin tent, rode camels and donkeys, woke up at 4 am to climb Masada and see the sun rise, rafted down the Jordanian River, and floated in the Dead Sea.

Now that we're in our last week, we hope to make it last as long as possible and to enjoy ourselves as much as we have this past month. Thank you and all of B'nai Israel for all of your love and support as we travel through the Holy Land, and we can't wait to see you soon!

Much love,
Molly Blumenthal, Michael Kalmans, Ari Matz, Alexa Molinoff, and Sarah Stein

Putting local food on your plate ... when you can

2011-07-31T13:04:00.000-04:00

I've just recently returned from a Summer vacation in Ireland (hence the lack of blogging for a while). As I so often do when I'm away, I took advantage of eating local foods whenever I could. Its part of the joy of visiting another place to not only sample the regional cuisine, but to look for locally grown ingredients in the food too - its always the freshest and the flavors are almost always vastly superior. In Ireland that included eating some of the juiciest, sweetest strawberries I've had in a very long time, from a local Kerry farm. And it included the joys of eating fish that had arrived at the dock of the very town we stayed in (Dingle) the very day we were eating it.

Arriving back in Connecticut, its the heart of the Summer farm produce season. The tomatoes on our own deck taste so much better than anything available in the supermaket, and the fresh basil and parsley is now in abundance. Living on the second floor of an apartment, we're not able to grow very much more of our own food at the moment, but we are not short of local places to buy. There are farmer's markets every week, plus local farms (especially in Easton) where you can go straight to the source. There are also independent small stores near our home, like A and J Farm Market in Southport or the Double L Market in Westport. Some people plan ahead and sign up to CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) programs where they receive a weekly or bi-monthly delivery of fresh produce from a farm either delivered to their home or to a local pick-up point. Its probably too late for this season, but you can learn more about these at local harvest (which also provides info on local farms and farmers markets in States across the country).

Buying local food is seldom the cheapest option, because we're usually dealing with small scale producers that cannot compete with huge agribusiness. But I find that the intensity of flavors and overall quality makes me much more appreciative of what I'm putting inside of me and, subsequently, I eat less and more healthily. It also encourages more creativity at mealtimes with meals based on what is in season and what was coming from the farms this week. At eatlocalchallenge.com they have a top 10 list of reasons to eat local.

There's a lot of attention in the Jewish community these days to expanding our consciousness about food ethics. I was reminded by a Jewish Youth Worker who I met at the URJ Kutz Camp this Summer who was from London that I've been teaching about Eco-Kashrut since the early '90s. (It turned out, as we introduced ourselves, that she realized that I had been her Religious School teacher when she was 10, 20 years ago, and this was one of the things she remembered about my classes!). I was inspired by teachers like Rabbi Arthur Waskow at The Shalom Center, who had been writing about it even earlier than that.

Today inspiration comes from organizations like Hazon and programs for Jews to learn about sustainable farming in the context of Judaism at places like the Adamah Fellowship program at Isabella Freedman Center or the Kayam Farm at the Pearlstone Retreat Center in Baltimore. Many Jewish organizations and schools expose their children to Teva, which provides residential courses for youth to learn about Jewish environmental awareness and sustainability.

The CCAR Press (the publishing body for the Reform movement's Rabbinic association) recently released 'The Sacred Table: Creating a Jewish Food Ethic', edited by Rabbi Mary Zamore. It is a wonderful collection that takes spiritual consciousness and ethics around issues of food from many different angles, offering a contemporary lens through which we can all think more deeply about the consequences of our day-to-day food decisions. At B'nai Israel we are looking forward to welcoming Rabbi Zamore at our Shabbat author's series next Spring.

A Pride Shabbat to Remember

2011-06-25T20:30:00.003-04:00

As a congregational Rabbi, I don't have that many opportunities each year to visit at another congregation's services. This year, after receiving an email from a friend who sings in the choir at Congregation Beit Simchat Torah - the LGBTQ congregation in New York City about their Pride Shabbat service, I found myself able to attend this year. And what a year to be in New York City on the Friday night of Pride weekend. To begin, the Shabbat service was quite wonderful. The music is always something special at CBST, with the wonderful Joyce Rosenzweig (who also teaches at HUC) as music director. The cantorial intern this past year was an incredible talent, Magda Fishman, who has just been invested as Cantor at the Jewish Theological Seminary. Add to that the lovely, smart, funny, and passionate Cynthia Nixon, who was their Pride Speaker this year, and the Shabbat service itself was quite wonderfully crafted.

But of course, this year there was much more. CBST adds in psalms of Hallel for their Pride Shabbat, recognizing the annual festive nature of the weekend. This year the energy was one of anticipation and excitement that took the festivities to a whole new level. It had become clear, just as services were beginning, that a vote on marriage equality in New York would take place in the NY Senate in Albany that night. Toward the end of the service we'd received an update that the vote was likely to be approximately 30 minutes after the end of our service.

Outside the Stonewall Inn, waiting for the vote

And so, at its conclusion, many congregants gathered together to walk down to the Stonewall Inn. We joined about 1000 people gathering in the street outside the bar, arriving just 10 minutes or so before the vote was taken. Looking around, and speaking to the people around us, I was struck by the incredible diversity. Many LGBTQ-identified people, but also heterosexual friends and allies who were there to share the moment. And, the annual Drag Parade had finished just a short while earlier, so there was plenty of additional color and glamour added to the mix.

When the news came in, the crowd erupted in cheering and hugging and crying and laughing. The celebratory atmosphere was incredible. In the mix, the Jews who had walked down from CBST started dancing and singing 'Siman Tov u'mazel tov' and other Jewish wedding tunes. A couple of Latino gay men came over to us, taken by the joyful sound and said, 'this is so wonderful - I wish we could be your friends'. One of the CBST congregants took them by the hand and said, 'You are our friends' and they joined in the dance.

As one who wasn't even born at the time that the Stonewall Inn first came to fame in much darker times, it felt quite magical to be standing there at the moment that NY voted to give equal civil rights to homosexual couples. Instead of police with batons, the police around the perimeter were friendly and smiling. The feel-good on the streets and in the bars of Greenwich Village as people passed each other with smiles, cheers, and high-fives was a moment of feeling the community togetherness that can sometimes shine through in New York City.

The prophet, Isaiah (58:13) coined Shabbat as a time of oneg - pleasure, delight - a time to enjoy good food, to dress up, to enjoy each other's company, and to celebrate. Last night was surely a pure and holy expression of Oneg Shabbat and it is one I will never forget.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Why we eat cheesecake on Shavuot (funny)

2011-06-07T15:10:00.001-04:00

As my erev Shavuot posting, I wanted to share with you something deep and meaningful, about the essence of our holy festival ... Cheesecake! (or, if you prefer, blintzes). Last week I was invited to offer my thoughts on any number of Shavuot-related questions for the Connecticut Jewish Ledger, and I chose to address the 'Why do we eat dairy?' question. I wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to add my own spin on this question, partly because I've never been satisfied with any of the more 'traditional' answers and, partly, because I believe its possible to make something meaningful out of each and every moment and, therefore, each and every Jewish food, cheesecake being no exception.

So, what does a more traditional take on this question look like? Check out the short video answer provided by the United Synagogue of Great Britain (Orthodox):

To read my take on the background to eating dairy on Shavuot, the Ledger link is here (Scroll down for my answer on eating dairy).

But the best answer I've read this year was the one I received from my father. Encouraged by what is clearly the Jewish tradition of having an endless number of answers to this vital question of Jewish practice, he decided to add a few more of his own. Enjoy!

Qu: Why do we eat cheesecake on Shavuot?

A: There are many answers, most , if not all, of them wrong. Perhaps the most credible answer, in the traditional Yiddish style, is "Why not?' Always answer a question with a question. This sharpens the mind and frays the nerves.

Another answer is that one day it was Shavuot and Rev Nachman was standing before his students wearing a white robe. With his pale skin he was barely identifiable against a pale background. One of his students was heard to remark: "Doesn't he look just like a bit of cheesecake" and this memory has been preserved ever since.

There is a lot more to Rev Nachman than a chair.

Another answer is that in olden times the harvest at Shavuot was celebrated by eating doughnuts. These doughnuts were the original kind, with a ring of dough sprinkled with sugar and a hole in the middle.Our sages and thymes tells us in an unconvincing, yet mystical, way that the ring represents all the Jews in the world and the hole ( which is not only in the middle but also occupies the surrounding space) is where God lives.

So no matter where you are, if you look, you will find God.

One day, around 1400 CE, a woman was buying doughnuts for Shavuot and said in a feigned middle-Eastern voice: "Ach, these fried doughnuts gives me heartburn; same with KFC. Haven't you anything else"

"How about a bit of cheesecake?" replied the baker. "Ok, I'll try a piece" said the lady.

And she never had heartburn again, dying peacefully the following day.

"A miracle" exclaimed the baker and Jews have been eating cheesecake on Shavuot ever since in the hope that they, too, might be delivered from heartburn.

Although this rarely happens, they have not stopped trying.
Simon Gurevitz
(Not a Rabbi)

The Weiner Saga - what it can teach us about ourselves

2011-06-06T23:20:00.000-04:00

There's a lot of online chatter, blogging, tweeting, and more about Anthony Weiner's use of the social network to communicate with women via lewd photo. If you need an update on the full story, here's a piece in the NYTimes, and another on The Huffington Post.

So, I want to get my 2 cents in? Well, yes and no. I don't think I have much more to add to what has already been said about the unbecoming behavior, the lying, the damage to Weiner's family (and, particularly, his wife) and friendships, the analysis of his confession, etc. etc.

But I want to look at another aspect of the chatter online. Because expressing our disgust, our disappointment, and our judgment, while appropriate, is the easy part. Especially when it involves a public official or celebrity. The much harder part is to look at our own lives and ask ourselves some of the really tough questions that emerge from stories like these.

Unless you happen to hang with a particularly angelic crowd, how many of us can say that we don't know someone among our friends, our congregation, or community, who has done something deceptive or foolish in their lives? How many of us can look in the mirror without feeling embarrassment for a poor judgment of the past? Whether it was behavior while drunk or high, a lie that had consequences that we've never owned up to, an email that should never have been sent, a touch or a kiss that betrayed the trust between committed couples, a full-blown affair or a criminal act ... Weiner can be a painful reminder of our own faux pas, or remind us of the pain caused by a friend or family member who did something to cross the line.

I remember that, as a very young child, perhaps no more than 6 or 7, I had a teacher who supervised a sewing activity with my class each week. We had learned different stitch styles and were making a bookmark. One week, I made a mistake. I was so embarrassed by my mistake that, instead of going to the teacher for assistance, I tried to fix it myself and created a big knot in the middle of my fabric. Then I panicked. I thought she'd be furious with me if she saw the mess I'd made instead of getting help when the problem was still small. So I started to feign sickness right before her class, and my grade teacher would allow me take some time out in the fresh air and miss her class. After a couple of weeks of this, they caught on. When the confrontation finally occurred, the teacher was mortified that I'd been too afraid to ask for her assistance; with one snip of the scissors she removed my knot and helped me get back on track. We had a great relationship from that point on.

Ok, so its a pretty innocuous example, but I offer it more for symbolic value. What Weiner did was very human. He messed up. Yes, he should examine what created his desire to exhibit such behavior in the first place - that is different from my accidental stitching mistake. But what followed is where the commonality lies, and is not at all uncommon. Once we've messed up, we're embarrassed and ashamed. We're fearful of what people will think and say. We're fearful of the consequences. And so we do things in a vain attempt to try and control the situation. This usually involves a lie. Sometimes its a total cover-up lie (no, I didn't do that; my account must have been hacked), and sometimes its a lie disguised as a partial admission of a lesser crime to try and divert attention from anyone discovering the true depths of our deed. When it looks like we've got ourselves into an almighty knot, we try a different strategy, perhaps feigning illness - 'I wasn't in my right mind'; 'I was under a great deal of stress at the time', 'I hadn't gotten over the death of my father' ...

Only when we find ourselves cornered and out of options might we finally come clean and confess. And we tell people how truly sorry we are. And its not a false confession. It might look that way, because it looks like we've been lying and were hoping to get away with it. Would we have confessed if we hadn't been found out? Probably not. But the lack of confession until there was no other choice does not necessarily indicate lack of authenticity. We are ashamed, we are embarrassed, we hate ourselves for our poor judgment and the hurt we have caused to people we care about, the trust we have lost, and we are disgusted by our flaws and inadequacies that have caused so much harm. It was all those feelings and emotions that led us to try and cover things up in the first place - out of our desire to nullify the harm and make it all go away. Hindsight is 20/20, as they say; we did not have the foresight to consider how much worse we were making the knot by our avoidance.

What is true of ourselves also plays out in our dealings with others. When someone you love is guilty of an act of hurt, or poor judgment, how do you respond? When they show true remorse and want to do whatever they can to bring some healing to the situation, do you push them away or do you try to make a path for them to do teshuvah - return/repentance? There are no easy answers; sometimes we have to separate ourselves from an abusive or narcissist personality. Sometimes we need time to mourn what has been lost - love, trust, friendship - before we can forgive. But it is always worth taking a breath and a step back and asking ourselves if there is any room for compassion alongside our judgment of the sins of another.

Rabbis, as with all clergy, find ourselves engaging pastorally with people in every aspect of life's journey. We seek to help those who have been hurt by another to find peace and to heal, and we seek to listen and help those who have sinned to do the inner work of true repentance, taking responsibility, but also the ability to heal and to move on rather than to carry the weight of their error forever.

So, yes, Anthony Weiner has messed up and, yes, he has more work to do. But there's a spiritual lesson here, and its a lesson that requires deep contemplation ... for each and every one of us.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Clergy speak out for Gay Pride month

2011-06-01T15:48:00.000-04:00

June is Pride month. These days my attention is turned much more to highlighting and celebrating the diversity of all kinds within our Jewish communities. In the past, some of our Jewish communities have specifically addressed the inclusion of interfaith families and GLBTQ Jews in their midst. In recent months I've learned a great deal from my colleague and friend, Rabbi Ruth Abusch-Magder, Rabbi-in-Residence for Be'chol Lashon, that recognizing and responding to diversity goes far beyond these categories, to the inclusion of Jews of every ethnic background. Our worldwide Jewish community has always been diverse, but our US-based community is becoming increasingly more diverse from immigration, adoption, conversion and the coming together of more mixed-ethnicity couples in marriage. A new video from B'chol Lashon, featuring Y-love (below) shares this message:

But one of the important aspects of being a welcoming and inclusive community is not simply to acknowledge, welcome and celebrate the diversity that makes up our Jewish communities today. If we really care about inclusivity, we need to be responsive to the hurts, the needs, and the injustices that may be faced by one part of our community. For just as we cannot claim to be an economically diverse community that welcomes everyone to belong regardless of financial means if we do not make it possible in reality and do not see it is as our duty to provide additional support to our families in times of struggle, so we cannot claim to be truly inclusive and welcoming of any group if we are not responsive to their needs.

I recently heard a story of a Rabbi who had delivered a sermon on a Pride Shabbat that highlighted some of the injustices and inequalities still faced by loving same-sex couples because they cannot get married or their marriages are not federally-recognized. Couples who are still faced with crippling financial ramifications when one dies and their partner inherits; couples who cannot gain access to each other when one is in the emergency room, and cannot make decisions on behalf of an incapacitated partner; couples who struggle to find affordable health insurance that is available to them as a family unit. And the list goes on. While the overwhelming majority of the community responded with compassion, recognizing that the Reform movement has long stood behind civil rights equality for same-sex couples, and recognizing the holiness of being a community dedicated to that work, a small minority felt it inappropriate material for a Rabbinic sermon. But the wonderful 'It Gets Better' campaign this past year has helped us all understand that silence on the pain and inequalities facing GLBTQ people is more than just an omission of words; by making the individuals and the issues invisible in our communities we are failing in our duties to literally save the lives of some of our youth who don't know who to turn to and what wonderful possibilities might lie ahead. I spoke (and subsequently published in my blog here) about this specific issue some months back, and recently a colleague, Rabbi Andrea Myers, published an article on the Huffington Post entitled 'It Gets Beautiful', which I highly commend to you.

The seminary of the Union for Reform Judaism, Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion, created their own 'It Gets Better' video, providing inspiring leadership. More recently, the students at Yale Divinity School created a similar video project, reaching out to Christians who are looking for their spiritual home in a place that doesn't require them to leave a piece of their soul at the door. Both videos are below.
Blessings for a Pride month filled with inspiration, affirmation, and action.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Jewish History, Torah, and Rabbis in the Twitter Age

2011-05-11T22:01:00.000-04:00

This is Jewish History Month. As a High School student, History was always something that I loved to know and hated to learn. What I mean by that is that I was always fascinated by the unfolding of events and the significance that one thing could have on another. I always loved social and cultural history especially - the way that people used to live. But I've never been very good at remembering the facts. In fact, one of my repetitive stress dreams used to be that it was just a few days from a major High School history exam (A levels - the exams in the UK that determine where you will go for University) and I am faced with two extra-thick lever files of handwritten notes that I have to memorize that consist of endless lists of dates and European wars.

We are blessed to live in an age when engaging with our history, learning, exploring, and studying, is more accessible than it has ever been.

This past week I have been having fun learning a great deal of history, and helping to share the amazing resources of the Encyclopedia of the Jewish Women's Archives. The full archives are online but, in a wonderful, innovative project using technology at its best, a team consisting of anyone who chooses to participate have been tweeting individual entries of the encyclopedia this month. For those already using Twitter, just follow #jwapedia and you'll be able to tune in to the entries being shared, re-tweet them to share them with your followers, and explore the encyclopedia yourself to take part in this community educational project. If you don't use Twitter, keep reading! I want to make the case for why you might want to get into Twitter, but first, here's another great upcoming project to wet your appetite.

In the 24 hours leading up to Shavuot (which begins in the evening on June 6), many individuals are planning a mass Tweeting of verses and teachings from Torah. As with any topic that you want to follow on Twitter, you'll just be looking up #Torah. The goal is to Tweet Torah to the top of the things that people are sharing on Twitter, just as we prepare for the peak experience of Receiving Torah again at Sinai when we reach Shavuot. Its a great way to be reminded of the 'greatest hits' of Torah, and be introduced to lines, stories, characters, ethics and ideas that you might have never known were in Torah.

Here's my case for why Twitter is something that might be for you (and at the bottom of this post will be some instructions to help you get started if you are new to this medium).

There are a number of organizations and publications whose materials I like to read online. Some of them I receive via an email directly from them. Others are things that I have 'liked' on Facebook and so, when they post something new, it will appear on my Facebook wall. There are other great articles I am introduced to when Facebook friends post the links with words of encouragement about why others might want to read them too. But the other way that I get great information is through the links to news, blogs, articles and TV interview clips that individuals and organizations post on Twitter. It would be overwhelming for me to try and follow every single blog or publication that sometimes posts a particular piece that catches my attention. But by following them on Twitter, I can log on, skim through the brief headings and descriptions that have been posted in the past couple of hours within a couple of minutes, and perhaps find 3 or 4 online articles that I'd really like to read. Think of it as subscribing to a magazine where you are the Editor - you get to decide whose content you want to include. Of course, as the author of a blog and local newspaper articles, its also a way to distribute things that I write more widely, but you can still get a lot out of Twitter even if you just want to be reader.

When you first open up a Twitter account, you can search for potential individuals or organizations to follow by general topic, but the best way to go is to zero in on someone who shares similar interests to you and then look at who they are following (much in the same way that you build up Friends lists on Facebook). To make it even easier, many of us have created 'Lists' of categories of Tweeters. So, for example, if you follow me @RabbiGurevitz, you'll see that I have a list of Jewish organizations that I follow and Jewish professionals. I also have a list of interfaith resources. There are also several online resources that will tell you who some of the 'top tweeters' are in a particular field of interest, helping you to build your network of individuals and organizations that are of particular interest to you.

So, give it a go! See below for more info on how to get started. Join the Jewish Women's Archive #jwapedia project this month and learn about some fantastic Jewish Women who have done astonishing things. Follow #Torah in the first week of June and immerse yourself in our Holy text and heritage to help get into a Shavuot state of mind. And go and explore the great network of Jewish individuals and organizations who are sharing great ideas, great teaching, and great commentary on our community and world affairs on Twitter.

There are a number of good online tutorials for using Twitter.
http://mashable.com/guidebook/twitter/ takes you through every aspect, step-by-step.
If 'seeing' it done via video is more helpful, then check out the video below:

How To Use Twitter on Howcast

And, if you are a 'local' at B'nai Israel, and would like a personal demo, drop me a line and I'll do what I can to help you get started.

Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Reacting to the Death of Osama Bin Laden

2011-05-02T18:44:00.000-04:00

This is a cross-posting of an article written by Rabbi Rachel Kahn-Troster at the blog of Rabbis for Human Rights - North America. Many pieces have been posted online today, reflecting on the news of the assassination of Osama Bin Laden. Rabbi Kahn-Troster's review of these messages, and her own reflections resonated most deeply with my own thoughts today. I highly recommend her article to you. Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Photo by by Zola via flickr.com. Creative Commons License.

I was checking my email late last night when I noticed a headline on the New York Times website: “President Obama to address the nation.” “They’ve caught Bin Laden,” I said to my husband. “There is nothing else urgent enough for an instant press conference on a Sunday night.” As I waited for the President’s speech, I realized I really didn’t know how I felt. Relief? Renewed sadness over 9/11? How are you supposed to feel when your enemy falls?

For me, as for many Americans, this is not a theoretical question. I was in New York on 9/11 and watched the Twin Towers get hit. Even though more than 10 years have passed, there is part of me that is still back on that day, under attack and scared. I’ve long viewed my work at RHR-NA fighting torture as my patriotic response to what I experienced. The best way to beat the terrorists was to uphold America values about freedom and the rule of law. I felt that the most fitting end for the search would Bin Laden would have involved a fair trial in an American court room, with the terrorist locked up for years and years. As the wrangling over Guantanamo intensified, it became clear that such an end for Bin Laden was unlikely. Rabbi Arthur Waskow described Sunday’s results, Bin Laden’s death in a firefight, as a “sad necessity.” But the scenes of unbridled celebration outside of the White House seemed at odds with the solemnity of the moment. I watched them and was deeply uncomfortable. For me, they transformed the moment into one of revenge. Maybe I am overreacting. Surely, those of us on the left tend to have a knee-jerk reaction to moments of patriotism. But I don’t think I am wrong. I cannot celebrate the death of another human being.

I’m not alone in my ambivalence. A quick survey of my friends shows that many of them are quoting the midrash about the death of the Egyptians at the Red Sea, when the angels are chastised for celebrating the death of God’s creatures. To actively celebrate over the death of another human being (sacred and created in God’s image) feels wrong, no matter how evil or how much they are our enemy. But others of my friends pressed that the celebration of the death of an individual enemy was different than rejoicing over the killing of innocents. The joy they felt was not one of revenge but of relief that evil had been overcome. As Rabbi Morris Allen posted on Facebook, he spills wine at seder for the suffering of the Egyptians during the plagues but not for the Pharaoh who caused their deaths. Osama Bin Laden was such a Pharaoh.

The President’s somber tone in his announcement should give us guidance for the national mood. It was not a time for rejoicing–the death of Bin Laden will not bring back the lives that were lost. It was our job as a nation not to pursue revenge but to seek justice. As activists, we translate tzedek as righteousness when we said “tzedek tzedek tirdof” and seek a more equitable world. But today we are reminded that justice is one of the pillars on which the world is built. God demands us to seek out justice.

Reflecting over the strange coincidence of the death of Bin Laden being announced on Yom HaShoah, Rabbi Menachem Creditor reflected:
I’m not sure what I mean right now. I’m relieved that an evil has been eliminated from the world. I’m mourning our lost Six Million. I’m watching the crowds on Pennsylvania Ave and Ground Zero, weeping at all that happened and is forever changed, aching for some healing and some small amount of hope. I’m still hearing the testimony from a Shoa survivor shared less than three hours ago echoing in my heart, proud to have joined as a large Berkeley Jewish community to bear witness to our collective pain. I’m lost right now. That’s all I think I can mean at the moment. We do not rejoice at the death of our enemy. The implementation of justice is not a joyful celebration. As Rabbi Cohen writes of watching the recording of Eichmann’s trial, “In this man’s eyes are reflected the ghosts of his uncountable victims…and also nothing at all.” I am riveted by the face of Bin Laden. I do not want to look into his eyes. Those eyes witnessed the snuffing out of so much life; those eyes remained willfully blind to the pain and loss he caused. I believe justice has indeed been served today. Joylessly, as is appropriate.

The reaction of the religious community has largely been along those lines as well. The Vatican called on Catholics to not rejoice but reflect on the death as an opportunity for furthering peace. The New Evangelical Partnership for the Common Good reminded us: “Our response is disciplined by belief that war itself is tragic and that all killing in war, even in self-defense, must be treated with sobriety and even mournfulness. War and all of its killing reflects the brokenness of our world. That is the proper spirit with which to greet this news.” Two of the major Muslim organizations, the Muslim Public Affairs Council and the Islamic Society of North America, have framed Bin Laden’s death in terms of justice for victims of 9/11 and repeated President Obama’s call for national unity. Like the President, they also took the opportunity to remind American that the radical terrorist did not represent or speak for Islam.

My friend Rabbi Noah Farkas wrote: “It’s not the celebration on the day of the death of an enemy that exemplifies justice, but how we choose to live the day after.” Repairing the broken world is not about what someone else might do, it is about us and how we bear the responsibilities given to us. Treating every human being as created in God’s image is difficult. Feeling compassion for the stranger, because we were strangers, is not an easy choice. The Talmud (Sanhedrin 65b) insists that the responsibility for healing is in our hands, if only we could overcome our own limitations: “Raba said: If the righteous desired it, they could be creators of worlds, as it is written, “But your iniquities have separated between you and your God [Isaiah 59:2].”

Today is the day after. Let us create a world of peace.

In every generation - Maggid 2.0 at our Seder

2011-04-24T15:55:00.000-04:00

This year we tried something a little different at our Seder. We were so pleased with the result that I wanted to share it here - an idea to store away for next year. It won't work for everyone - certainly not for Jews who do not use additional power or technology on the festivals - but that still leaves a lot of Jews who might want to try something new.

We began our Seder fairly conventionally, following our Haggadah through the festival candle-lighting, first cup of wine, and so on, through to Yachatz - the breaking of the matzah. But when we arrived at the heart of the haggadah (and the longest section) - Maggid - telling the story, we put down the haggadah. First, we performed what has become a family ritual over the years - the Passover story in rap, with costumes and movement. That story in its entirety, from Moses' birth to the crossing of the Sea, is rather difficult to find in a traditional haggadah, but we like to cover the basics.

What we do find in the haggadah is a confusing mix of conversations from generations ago - Rabbis talking all through the night, fantasies about multiplications of plagues, four questions (some of which are never answered in the text of the haggadah), four children who respond to the whole Seder experience in different ways, and so on. Its a rather strange hodge-podge if you think about it. I've always regarded it as something of a 'teacher's manual' - it gives you ideas of how to engage in the storytelling, but it doesn't work so well as the storytelling itself.

If it is the case that, 'in every generation' we must have an experience that gets us back in touch with what it means to experience slavery and what it means to seek and gain freedom, then how might we tell that story today? This year, we used visuals and video to help us access that story in ways that deeply tapped into our own experiences and understanding, challenging us, moving us, and inspiring us.
We began with a video of a new song out of Israel, entitled 'Out of Egypt', by Alma Zohar.
She reminds us:
Chorus:
Don’t you know that each day and in every age,
one and all must see himself as though having escaped Egypt
So he won’t forget how he fled, how he was beaten, bled, left dead
How he called out to the heavens

The song concludes:
There’s always war in Africa
What luck that it’s so far away
We don’t have to see or hear the screams

The video can be viewed here.

This was how we began to think about Avadim Hayinu - we were slaves, but now we are free. If the spiritual message here is to remember in order to empathize, in order to be moved to action when we remember what slavery was like, we cannot simply ritually recite the words, but must look at the world we live in today. Zohar's video powerfully engages us. The words at the end of the youtube tell us:

Since 2003, an estimated 10,000 immigrants from various African countries have crossed into Israel.
Some 600 refugees from the Darfur region of Sudan have been granted temporary resident status to be renewed every year, though not official refugee status. Another 2000 refugees from the conflict between Eritrea and Ethiopia have been granted temporary resident status on humanitarian grounds.
In 2007, Israel deported 48 refugees back to Egypt after they succeeded in crossing the border, of which twenty were deported back to Sudan by Egyptian authorities.

An Israeli looking for something more from her people and her country.

From here, we looked at the 'Pharaohs of today'. These are included in the video of the powerpoint presentation below. As we followed the slides, the storytelling took us from reflecting on some of the worst dictators and their oppression of their people, to a call on each of us to reflect and discuss how we use our power. The image of the scallion and the staff represent enslavement and freedom-fighting - that which we do to others, and that which we do to ourselves. Why the scallion? Because it is a Sephardi Jewish tradition to take a scallion and beat the person next to you with it when telling the story of enslavement and hard labor in the Pesach story.

Just as each of us has the ability to use our power to oppress or to free, so each of us contains something of each of the four children. A small selection of the images used to illustrate these children in haggadot over the ages gave us an entree to discussing what these had to teach us.

Then we moved to the moment of freedom. With several artist's renderings of the crossing of the Sea, we pondered whether the experience was one that was awesome, fantastical, celebratory... its not so easy to leave behind the known for the unknown, however bad it might have been. The emotions that accompany us are complex.

Finally, many of our guests brought their own image of freedom. The range was diverse - abstract, specific, political, inspiring, peaceful, spiritual... each image birthed a story or description - just a minute or two each, to enable us to engage with the deeper meaning and experience of freedom.

All of these sections are reflected in the video below:

One contribution was in the form of a video:

In truth, time did not allow us to discuss each section equally fully - we could easily have been like the Rabbis of old, up all night, to really do justice to this much material. But we certainly had one of the more meaningful experiences of engaging with the Passover story that I can remember.

We closed out the section with a couple of videos that have done the rounds this year and in past years - The Fountainheads 'Dayenu', and Michelle Citrin's wonderful '20 things to do with Matzah'.

Our Seder is conducted in our living room space and not seated at tables, so the logistics of this way of doing Maggid were relatively simple - a laptop plugged into a projector pointing at the wall. It might easily have been done by plugging into a flat-screen TV.

But even a 'low-tech' version of this mode - photocopies or photos of images passed around a table - would achieve a similar result; like the chalk pictures on the pavement in the movie 'Mary Poppins', they provide a portal and, when we jump right in, these images offer a different way of accessing the journey from slavery to freedom.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Top tips for an engaging Seder

2011-04-11T14:50:00.000-04:00

I've led or co-led several workshops or conversations with parents over this past week on ways of engaging children and adults alike in the Passover Seder experience. The following is not a comprehensive list; rather, a sharing of some of the top tips that I have found excite parents and children when we introduce these possibilities to Seder night. Keeping with the Passover format, here are 4 suggestions:

1) Involving children in the preparations. Building the anticipation by having our children prepare some things for Seder night is key. This can include more traditional tasks, like helping to make the charoset, and searching for the last pieces of chametz (bread, cake, etc.) that a parent has hidden on the last morning before Seder with a feather (bedikat chametz). But it can also include preparing some acting of the story, songs, decorating pillow covers (thanks Rabbi Nicole Wilson-Spiro, who runs our Young Families Chavurah, for this one), matzah covers, place settings etc. If you clean out your kitchen but don't empty every cupboard, have the kids design the 'Chametz - Keep Out!' and 'Kosher for Pesach' signs to put on the cupboard doors.

2) Logistics and lay-out. This is one of the most overlooked elements of the Seder but one that I have come to appreciate as crucial. While not every home has the space to accommodate some creativity in this department, we have found that sitting on sofas, cushions and chairs in concentric circles around a coffee table in a living room to be much more conducive, at least for the pre-meal part of the Seder, than sitting still around a formally-laid table. Young children can get up and move around more easily without being a distraction, and the atmosphere engenders more conversation and interaction between the adults too. At our Seder we often hang colorful fabrics in the room to create the feeling of sitting under a tent. In previous years, we've moved to tables in another room for the meal, but this year we'll be using our dining room table as the buffet table, and will continue the informal feel as we eat in this more informal setting too.

3) While some observe the tradition of reading from the beginning to the end of the Haggadah, I regard it as more of a teacher's manual. There are steps - 15 of them to be precise, listed at the beginning of most haggadot, which make up the Seder - the order - of the service. Most of these steps are short (washing hands, dipping karpas into salt water, breaking the matzah and hiding the afikoman, etc.) The largest section is Maggid - telling the story. In this section we find the debates and conversations of several generations of Rabbis recorded. But for the story to come alive for us so that, as we are commanded, we experience the Exodus as if we ourselves left Egypt, we have to find our own way to tell and respond to the story.
- That might mean acting it out (have the children walk around the room with sacks over their shoulders while you sing; when the music stops, ask them a question: Who are you? Where are you going? What are you carrying? What will you eat? etc.).
- You might use songs to tell the story.
- You might have the children ask questions (not just recite the Ma Nishtanah, which are just your starters for 4, not meant to be the totality of questions for the whole night!)
- You might ask guests to bring their symbols of Freedom for a second Seder plate, to be shared during the course of the evening (thank you to Rabbi Phyllis Berman, from whom I learned this one).
- When it comes to the praises we sing to celebrate our freedom, you might get up and dance! With fabric, you might 'split the sea' for people to pass through as they sing and celebrate.
- For an adult crowd, you might seek out challenging contemporary readings on themes of freedom to discuss around the table (see haggadot.com for an amazing selection of potential readings).

4) Finally, I really recommend doing some of the Seder after the meal. Traditionally there is still the Grace after Meals, more praises, two cups of wine, and Elijah's cup to go, plus some closing songs. I know that many families skip the post-meal Seder, but there is something powerful and pleasureable about taking even 15 minutes to offer thanks and close with some fun songs (the traditional ones like Chad Gad Ya, or some contemporary fun songs set to familiar tunes - see here, for example).

There are many more links, and some fun Passover youtube videos, as well as more information and recipes, at Congregation B'nai Israel's Passover Page.

Have some great ideas for the Passover Seder that you'd like to share with others? Please add them to the comments section here!

Many blessings for a wonderful, engaging, meaningful Passover!
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Israeli Women Win European Basketball Championship!

2011-03-25T13:44:00.000-04:00

Just wanted to share a feel-good story today. Anyone who knows anything about Connecticut know that we are very proud of our Huskies - the UConn basketball teams. Basketball is pretty much the only US game this (British) Rabbi follows, and only because congregants (thanks Val and Linda!) initiated me a couple of years back with some live games watching a truly outstanding team. But today I found myself cheering for another Women's team when I cam across the following news:
Israeli women’s basketball club Elitzur Ramla beat France’s Arras 61-53 last night to capture the EuroCup. Their amazing run makes them Israel’s first women’s club to capture the European Championship.

It is the first time that an Israeli team has won this competition since the guys did it back in 1977.

You can read more of the story at the IsRealli blog.
Go Team!

Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Why is this Women's Seder different from all others?

2011-03-24T15:28:00.000-04:00

If Purim is over then it must be the season for the Women's Seder! The pre-Passover timing allows for women who have, traditionally, had their hands rather busy doing a lot of the behind-the-scenes work at the family Passover Seder, to enjoy creating and leading the ritual aspects of the Seder. A pre-Passover Seder has also enabled some of the wonderful creativity - prayers, writings, stories, and music - that have emerged from the Women's Seder ritual over the decades to make their way into family and other communal Seders.

The first Women’s Seder took place in Haifa, Israel and Manhattan, NY in the USA in 1975. The story of the early years and the text of the first haggadah written for the Women’s Seder can be found in ‘The Telling’, by E.M. Broner. These early Seder gatherings represented the coming together of second wave feminism with Judaism as women who had previously felt excluded from a Judaism that was perceived to be patriarchal and exclusionary began to reclaim their heritage and Jewish women’s spirituality. Sally Priesand had been the first US woman to be ordained as a rabbi in 1972, and Jackie Tabick was the first to be ordained in the UK in 1975. The times they were a’changin’.

Since those early years, the tradition of a Women’s Seder has spread far and wide and has evolved considerably. Many local communities have created their own haggadah, weaving together borrowed poems, stories, and songs with their own new liturgical writing and composing. One organization based in New York City, Ma'yan, was instrumental in the spread of the Women's Seder internationally, with the music of the greatly missed Debbie Friedman, z'l, creating a phenomenon where, for a number of years, over 500 women a night would fill a room for 2-3 nights in a row for the Ma'yan Seder.

While a traditional haggadah makes no mention of the women who were so important to the unfolding of our people’s story of the journey from slavery to freedom, a Women’s Seder haggadah tells of the midwives, Shifra and Puah, Yocheved and Miriam. While a traditional haggadah only retells the discussions and interpretations offered by male rabbis and scholars through the centuries, a Women’s Seder haggadah weaves together the words of women, and returns our voice to our people’s history and heritage. Women have always passed on their wisdom and Jewish practices from generation to generation, and the Women's Seder at Congregation B'nai Israel always includes structured sharing of stories, questions and answers, where our bat mitzvah students share their stories with older generations and vice versa; its a multi-generational gathering.

This year’s Seder is different from all of our previous Women’s Seders at Congregation B’nai Israel; this year we welcome our Christian and Muslim sisters in faith to join us for a Seder ritual that celebrates the themes of Freedom and Peace, weaving together the inspirational sources from our three faith traditions. This Seder is inspired by the pioneering work of Rabbi Arthur Waskow and The Shalom Center who formulated the first Seder for the Children of Abraham, Sarah and Hagar in 1999. Our Rosh Hodesh group has spent the year in a series of interfaith interactions with women from local churches and Muslim communities, and we look forward to welcoming them all to our Passover Seder. The goal is not to provide a 'model Seder' for the benefit of our sisters-in-faith, but to use the Passover Seder model and message to weave together lessons, songs and inspiration from all three faiths to inspire us to think and engage more deeply with the Passover message.

The Seder takes place at Congregation B'nai Israel, Bridgeport, Thursday, March 31st, 7:30 p.m. It is free and open to all women from the local community. RSVP to reserve a seat with lynn@congregationbnaiisrael.org

I hope to see you there!
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Purim in St. Petersburg!

2011-03-11T11:36:00.001-05:00

'Tis the season.... for entertaining Youtube videos of Purim spoofs galore. There are a couple of gems this year and you can check them all out at our Congregation's website on the Purim Page (just scroll down, but check out our Adults-only Beach Ball Party on March 19 at the top of the page - everyone is welcome; none of our programs are for members only).

But this morning I saw a posting on ejewishphilanthropy.com that mentioned one Youtube that I hadn't seen yet from the Hillel of St. Petersburg, Russia. Check it out!

Here's the translation (from the original posting on ejewishphilanthropy.com):
Hello, I’m Liya Geldman. I’m a senior student at cinema and television university in St. Petersburg. As you know Russia is a multiethnic and multidenominational country. But do Russians really know traditions of other cultures? Today we came here to find out if they know what Purim is.
- Do you know what Purim is?
- Hello, do you know what Purim is?
- Hi Julia, do you know what is Purim?
- Hello, what is Purim?
Doesn’t anyone know what Purim is?

Purim! Purim! Purim!
Purim! Purim! Purim!

Celebrating Purim!
Zenit and Haiduck (Russian soccer teams),
Student and coach,
Human and spider,
Patient and surgeon,
NYC, Moscow and Saint Petersburg!

Purim! Also celebrating in Barnaul
People from Penza and Tomsk,
On Kamchatka and in Kerch,
And possibly even on the moon.

Purim! Let’s put some make up on!
Whether you are old or young,
Even if you hadn’t slept for 3 nights
It’s Israeli mega-carnival!

Purim! We highly recommend it.
The plot is twisted,
It happened almost 3000 years ago
So it might be hard to remember
Where’s good and where’s bad

So choose for yourself who’s good and who’s bad
Here’s the Mordehai the Jew, King Ahashverosh.
Where’s Vashti? The Tzar’s ex-wife?
But maybe Hamman could be the Bad Guy?

Imagine for a while that we’re in Babylon,
Who’s the star on this dark sky? Esther!
Here’s a lesson for now and in 600BC
If you’re brave, you’ve got the power!

We’ll scream together Mazal Tov!
Our glass is full to the brim.
With what? Lets fill it with wine
And drink it all up.
And during this Purim we’ll change the world!

I hope you get the 'feel-good' that I felt watching Jews in Russia celebrating Purim. Oh, today we'll merry, merry be, and nosh some hamentaschen!

Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

What does an American Muslim look like? Remembering one special soul

2011-03-10T14:07:00.000-05:00

Congressman Keith Elllison spoke passionately and powerfully today at Peter King's congressional hearing about Radicalized Islam in the USA. In distinction from the distasteful background to these hearings (see my earlier post this week), Congressman Ellison reminded us that every American Muslim is an individual and it is incumbent upon us all to stand up in the face of Islamophobia, or any kind of racism that talks about a 'them'. He did so by telling us about one particular American Muslim, 23 years old, who was a first responder at the Twin Towers on 9/11. His testimony speaks for itself.

No-one would deny our obligations to keep America safe and to root out terrorism. But when we forget that for every radical in any group there are many more stories like these, and try to tar an entire community of millions with the brush of extremism, we are guilty of racism, plain and simple. There are more and less effective ways to identify terrorists and terrorist plots, whether they be within the USA or beyond our borders. Holding a congressional hearing contributed not one iota to that goal. Congressman Ellison helped communicate that message loud and clear.

Rabbis for Human Rights just released a first set of youtube videos of Rabbis of all denominations speaking out against Islamophobia. You can view them here.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

'Today I am a Muslim Too' - A Rabbi at the Times Square Rally

2011-03-07T18:28:00.000-05:00

Equipped with a rain jacket and umbrella in anticipation of the damp afternoon forecast, I headed down to Stamford yesterday lunchtime to take a bus into New York City with members of the Institute for Islamic and Arabic Studies. This is a diverse and wonderful Muslim community that draws members from across Fairfield County. Members from this community were the first Muslims to partner with our Fairfield County 'Tent of Abraham' interfaith dialog group when we started our three-faith community programs 5 years ago. We have since partnered with them many times, and their teenagers participate with our teenagers in an annual Teen Interfaith-Interaction program every Spring.

Why was I spending my afternoon with this community on a trip into New York City? At relatively short notice, a multi-faith coalition had come together for a rally yesterday afternoon near Times Square to protest the congressional inquiry due to start this week, chaired by House Homeland Security Chair, Peter King, looking into Radicalized Islam in the USA. King has claimed that Muslims within the USA are an increasing threat because they are being radicalized on our home turf, and Muslim communities are not cooperating sufficiently to identify and root out these radicalized elements. It is important to know that these claims have been challenged by government departments who work with Muslim communities on a regular basis. For a balanced article on this inquiry and the lead-up to it, a good piece in the Washington Post last week is worth reading.

As residents of Connecticut, in the wake of a fringe evangelical group parading outside a Bridgeport mosque shortly before Ramadan last year with placards declaring that 'Islam is the Devil', and a mosque in Hamden being vandalized last week for the third time in a year, the concern that Muslim American citizens are being targeted and victimized solely on the basis of their faith is something that should be of concern to everyone, but especially to other minority groups, faith-based or otherwise. As Jews, we should always be especially concerned when we see anything that looks like government-sponsored stirring up of popular opinion and fear toward one group of citizens. And King's inquiry certainly looks like that to many people of faith.

The rally organized in New York City yesterday was an interfaith effort, with Muslim, Christian, Jewish and Buddhist speakers (apologies for any omissions). Rabbis for Human Rights was one of the supporting organizations who tried to help get the word out at what was short notice to pull a rally together. Nevertheless, despite the short time-frame and the appalling weather, about 500 people attended the rally.

My bus-ride down to the city was a wonderful opportunity to listen and hear about many of the experiences of the men, women and children who were attending the rally. Mothers coming with their children because they don't want their American-born children to grow up hearing from their government that they are somehow less American or more suspect because of the faith that they practice; friends who have reduced their international traveling because of the scrutiny and treatment they have experienced at the airports; debates that Muslims have among themselves about profiling (we were all of the opinion that one should profile for violent fanatics, and there are ways of better identifying potentially dangerous individuals, but faith or ethnicity were not very good indicators of these traits). We also talked about what it was like for one Egyptian-born woman who just happened to have gone home to visit her sister when the Revolution happened; we talked about the ethical components of the Halal food industry (our Kashrut agencies could learn a lot from our Muslim colleagues on this issue). And then we helped each other figure out what statements we wanted to put on the placards that our coordinator, Dolores, had brought, and what images would accompany them.

The placards turned out to be a wonderful idea, especially as the youth who were with us produced some beautiful and moving statements, simply put. When we reached the rally we ended up in the front of a second area that had been partitioned off on the side of the road where the rally was taking place. With their placards hanging over the barriers, a number of news channels and photographers came by to capture our group. The ethnic backgrounds of the members enabled them to do interviews with the press in English, Spanish and Urdu. Calmly we expressed our love for all peoples, and our objections to an inquiry that is divisive and detrimental to the safety of millions of American Muslims who are peace-loving; people we are proud to call our friends and neighbors.

The vibe was very positive, and we found ourselves engaged in conversations with others who had come to the rally; Muslim, Quaker, Christian, Jew. There had been a very small group that identified themselves as tea-party connected who had intended to counter-demonstrate but they seemed to disperse quickly. We found ourselves being greeted by one woman who was very concerned that we knew the Truth about Jesus and was not satisfied to hear Muslims tell her that they loved Jesus and the love that Jesus taught; our lack of belief in her particular understanding of Jesus was something that troubled her greatly. We politely took her literature and were able to continue with our main purpose for being there when the wonderful police officer stationed at the front of our section politely suggested she move on.

A couple of hours later, the rally almost over, we made our way out. The rally made but a small dent in the rhetoric that I am afraid we will have to listen to in the coming week. Realizing that they could not stop the inquiry, many Muslims are now trying to participate so that they can communicate the message that they want to be heard; it is too dangerous to leave this inquiry in the hands of those who have already drawn dangerous conclusions devoid of factual information and seemingly unaware (or, God forbid, uncaring) about the potential consequences of their words to spur more violence against Muslim communities in the USA.

I urge all people of faith to speak out against King's inquiry. It is a misplaced and misguided response to the real, ongoing concerns about terrorism, fundamentalists and fanatics. Targeting the entire American Muslim community is wrong, and dangerously so.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Glenn Beck's Apology and the perils of too much air-time

2011-02-24T13:20:00.000-05:00

Yes, Glenn Beck apologized for his comparison of Reform Judaism and Radical Islam. He admits that it was a ludicrous analogy. He apologizes for the offence caused. He doesn't revisit the deeper issues that I raised in my blog response, of how religious values and religious life must, in my opinion, respond to the same societal issues that the legislature also deals with to be a full expression of living a life of faith. That doesn't mean that religious values can answer the question of whether a particular piece of legislation is well-written, but they can guide us to consider whether we should address a particular need in society, and then advocate for the legislators to find a way to do that. They should not dictate what happens in civil society, but they have a place at the table.
Listen to Beck's apology and make up your own mind. I think I was most struck by his recognition that being on air for 4 hours every day without a script was 'a recipe for disaster'. Glenn - I think that's the most sensible thing I've heard you say!

Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

'Reform Judaism like Radicalized Islam' - Why Beck got it so very wrong

2011-02-22T17:08:00.000-05:00

Those who have read this blog before know that its not my usual mode to add my commentary to the wonderful world of political punditry. While my congregants can probably guess what TV channels I mostly tune in to for my daily dose of news (ok, I'll confess - its usually BBC World because how else am I going to get a daily dose to try and preserve my ever-diminishing British accent!), I don't use (or rather, abuse) my pulpit in ways that make it a soapbox for my personal, political views. That's not what a place of worship is for.

But.... when I listened to the excerpt from Glenn Beck's radio show posted on salon.com that is rapidly being re-tweeted all over Twittersville as I type, I decided that this one was blog-worthy. Why? Because the accusation that Rabbis can speak of nothing that politicians vote on without being accused of being 'political' and not truly 'religious' is such utter ridiculousness that it cannot be left to stand.

Now, the tweet making its away up the charts is eye-catching (that's why I used it in my blog heading today) but somewhat misleading. If you listen to the full context of the quote from the radio show, Beck explicitly says that he is not making the likeness between Reform Judaism and Radicalized Islam on the basis of fundamentalist or violent behaviors. Rather, he is saying that neither of them are expressions of Religious faith as much as they are politically motivated movements.

What Judaism and Islam both have in common as faith traditions is that their codes of law and practices were never confined to ritual practice and belief. Both were conceived of, in their origins, as entire social systems. Jewish law from the earliest centuries speak of the obligations of a community providing a particular minimum of teacher/student ratio in the classroom. It speaks of the obligation of a communal pot to ensure that doctors are paid for their medical services even when an individual cannot themselves afford the medical care they need to keep them alive. It speaks of ethical business practices, ethical ways of collecting charitable funds, and how to figure out ways of distributing those funds when the community's need is greater than the contents of the fund.

While, as American Jews, we live in a country where there is a constitutional separation of church and State, Judaism as a faith tradition was not originally conceived with such a separation as part of the cultural context in which it operated. This means that when Jews talk about practicing Judaism, they might be talking about their Sabbath observance or their Passover Seder, but they might just as equally be talking about their social activism on behalf of the needy.

They might be talking about why they, as individuals, feel called to lobby their political representatives to preserve a woman's civil legal right to an abortion because those who wish to take away that right would actually be preventing Jews from dealing with these women's health issues in ways that are congruent with Jewish law. Jewish law is absolutely explicit - if an unborn child threatens the health of a woman, the woman's well-being always takes precedence. Reform Rabbis who advocate on this issue don't wish to prevent someone else acting on the basis of their faith in a different way; but they do object to a different religious understanding of this issue impinging on our rights as American citizens.

They might be talking about environmental policies because Jewish ethical teachings about environmental conservation go back to Genesis, and the rabbinic extension of Bal Taschit - do not waste - has modern day, practical applications that lead us to encourage our government to take steps to help our society better take care of our precious earth.

And so, yes, Reform Rabbis like myself are among those who will speak out on issues such as these because our Religious tradition has wisdom to share that guides our values and lives today.

For someone as deeply uninformed about most things as Beck to claim to know what Reform Judaism is and what it stands for, and on what basis Reform Jews engage with matters of social policy, is simply ridiculous. But more than that; when he brings up the notion that people of faith have nothing to offer on any issue that is ever dealt with by the legislature and that doing so nullifies their claim to be 'religious', he is perpetuating a fallacy about the role of religiously-informed values that guide the lives of individuals.

Jewish Religious living and Jewish values that do not address what it means to live together as a community and as a nation, what it means to take care of each other, what it means to preserve civil freedoms, what it means to challenge those who whip up fear and hatred among neighbors, is no Judaism that I care to associate with. If Judaism is reduced to the performance of ritual and the recitation of rites alone and is not also about how we live our lives as human beings, with each other, as best as we possibly can, then it is a Judaism without heart or soul. That's not Reform or Conservative, Orthodox, Reconstructionist or Renewal... that's just Judaism.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

A time to check in, and a time to check out

2011-02-14T15:16:00.000-05:00

To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven...
So goes the famous verse from Ecclesiastes (3:1).

Today, ejewishphilanthropy.com reported on a new app for your smartphone, due out by Feb 25th, developed as part of Reboot's 'National Day of Unplugging'. As reported on the ejewish philanthropy blog, they explain:
Bucking the trend of technology that allows people to tell everyone that they’ve checked into their local restaurant, cafe or bar, Reboot has developed a smartphone app that helps users “check out” of the internet altogether. The app ironically will use technology to shut down technology.

Think of it as rehab for the smartphone. By using technology, the Sabbath Manifesto app is intended to spur a massive movement away from technology on the National Day of Unplugging, March 4-5, 2011 and beyond, and a return to the values inherent in a modern day of rest: reconnecting with family, friends and the world around them.

The 'Sabbath Manifesto' is an ongoing Reboot project that 'encourages people to slow down their lives by embracing its 10 principles once a week: Avoid Technology; Connect With Loved Ones; Nurture Your Health; Get Outside; Avoid Commerce; Light Candles; Drink Wine; Eat Bread; Find Silence; Give Back.'

This is a great example of the kind of work that Reboot does best. Not only do they translate Jewish wisdom into actions that speak to C21st Jews, but they take that Jewish wisdom public and make it accessible to everyone. Many took part in the National Day of Unplugging last year - millions of all faiths and backgrounds from around the world. The New York Times and Huffington Post were among those mainstream media outlets that drew attention to the 25 hour period of downtime.

Now, in truth, while I love this project, I personally find it challenging to participate 100% as intended. Living on a different continent to my parents and my brother, ichat or skype video chats have become one of the wonderful ways that I stay connected with my family. You'll notice that one of those 10 principles of the Sabbath Manifesto is to 'connect with loved ones.' While I connect on many occasions during the week, sometimes just for 5 minutes before I leave for work, Shabbat afternoon is one of the prime times for an extended family chat. I try to be disciplined and don't do email or facebook or twitter on Shabbat, but that valuable family connection time is the one reason that I don't entirely shut down the computer on the Sabbath.

I expect I'm not the only one who has a personal caveat to following the Sabbath Manifesto 100% to the letter, but I feel (and yes, as a Reform Rabbi who will set aside some of the constrictions of traditional Jewish law), that there is meaning in making an informed choice that is intentional to elevate a particular value that I hold above all else - honoring my parents and staying as connected to my family as possible, especially in light of my life having brought me to another country. I've often felt that it is sometimes harder to be an 'observant' Reform Jew; when one is often making informed choices about so many aspects of Jewish ritual and observance, it requires a different kind of engagement than the, in some ways, simpler observance of strict halachic observance. Falling into mainstream cultural norms without thought and getting caught up in activities that really don't jive with any attempt to observe a day of rest is easy unless one chooses to create a vessel or structure that helps you to make Shabbat for real. And that's where Reboot's manifesto, and their upcoming app show such creativity and are so user-friendly.

If Shabbat is meant to be, as Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel put it, a 'Palace in Time', then I can think of no better place to 'check in' for day. See you there!

Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

And we'll sing our souls to You - in memory of Debbie Friedman

2011-02-04T13:39:00.001-05:00

Wednesday marks the end of shloshim - the 30 day period of mourning after the funeral of Debbie Friedman. Many congregations, federations and communities in the USA and abroad have been, and will be having musical gatherings to honor Debbie's memory. Some of the larger programs were streamed live and recorded for subsequent viewing. You can listen to the Memorial service held at Central Synagogue, New York, here. There was a concert memorial held at Temple Israel in Boston which you can view here.

Here, at Congregation B'nai Israel, we are gathering at the end of the first Shabbat after shloshim for a Havdalah song-session on February 12, 5-6:30 p.m. Our focus will be on one thing and one thing only - singing Debbie's music together in a gathering that is open to everyone. Helping to lead us will be several local musicians such as Cantor Scott Harris, Rabbi Suri Krieger, Rayhan Pasternak, Rhea Farbman, and Adrianne Greenbaum (in addition to B'nai Israel's own clergy and educators), and also some special guests from further afield: Kathy Gohr from Allentown, PA, Adrian Durlester from Amherst MA, Arnie Davidson from Glastonbury, CT and Batya Diamond from Wilton, CT. This latter group are all people that I met at or with whom I share one very special place in common - Hava Nashira. In fact, Rayhan, who is a Fairfield local, is also someone that I first met many years before I found myself in Connecticut, at Hava Nashira. I'd like to say a little more about that in a moment. But first, I hope you'll be able to join us to sing, learn and share Debbie's music on the 12th. So that we can estimate numbers, it would be very helpful if you could RSVP via this link.

Hava Nashira is the program that first brought me to the USA. It is the annual conference for song-leaders, held at OSRUI camp, Oconomowoc, WI and it is the URJ camp that serves the Great Lakes region. I came because two years earlier Debbie had visited the UK, performed at the Liberal synagogue in St. John's Wood, London and run the choir a the UK national Limmud conference. This was before Limmud became the 2,500-person mega conference that is today. We were about 750-strong that year, and it was my first time attending the conference. After Debbie left, a number of us based in London who had sung in her choir were bemoaning the fact that there was no-one like her for us to sing with when she left. Both the style of the music and the passion and excitement that we felt in just singing our souls to God, experimenting with harmonies, feeling the surge of the voices coming together - we didn't know of a place in the UK to do that. There were formal Jewish choirs that one could join and, wonderful though some of them were, it just wasn't the same.

For whatever reason - perhaps a sense of calling, or perhaps just pure chutzpah, I decided that there was no reason we couldn't continue to sing Debbie's music, and music like Debbie's in an informal musical gathering that had no 'outcome' in mind - no concerts, no performances. Shir B'Yachad (sing together) was born, as a monthly musical gathering (A name suggested by Diane Bramson who still runs the monthly gathering now many years after I left the UK). Initially I partnered with a friend, Nina Maraney, who was a talented Music graduate who played guitar and had a beautiful voice. She was just beginning to focus on doing more professional music work for the Jewish community and, after almost a year, she encouraged me to take the helm musically as well as organizationally. My musical skills were much more limited - some passable keyboard accompaniment and some rhythm, but I learned the songs quickly and gained confidence in teaching them to others. Another friend and talented song-leader and composer, Jess Gold, encouraged me to join her the following year at Hava Nashira where I could gain some skills training and broaden my repertoire.

Debbie Friedman leading a session at Hava Nashira

Hava Nashira was a life-changing experience in so many ways. On the first evening when we gathered for our first song-session, I felt like I'd entered some heavenly realm, surrounded by so many folk voices, effortlessly breaking into 6-part (at least) harmony as we sang together. In addition to Debbie, the faculty included Jeff Klepper, Merri Arian, Ellen Dreskin, Rosalie Boxt, and Donny Maseng. There were many talented musicians and composers among the attendees too and it was quite awe-inspiring to be in the midst of it all. I learned a lot of repertoire and picked up a lot of great advice on how to song-lead effectively in different settings. Still very much the amateur, I returned to Hava Nashira whenever I could (although its been about 5 years since I was last able to make it). Reconnecting with old friends became as much a part of the pleasure and, even with those I didn't see or hear from much in the interim, there was a powerful bond that transcended time and space that connected so many of us who had shared the Hava Nashira experience.

When Debbie died, the remembrances and stories shared by all those who subscribe to the Hava Nashira listserv continued unabated for well over a week. So many shared stories of things they had learned from Debbie, things that they had seen her do at Hava Nashira, the jokes she had told, the personal connections she had made with so many, inspiring them or supporting them at vital junctions in their lives. It was deeply moving.

And so it is that, among the musicians helping to lead us in song next Saturday evening are some of those special connections from Hava Nashira. Hava Nashira will go on, although Debbie's absence this year will be enormous. The faculty in recent years has include Craig Taubman, Peter and Ellen Allard, Dan Nicols, Shira Kline and Josh Nelson - many very talented musicians, composers and song-leaders. In addition, last year a Fall/Winter gathering was added called 'Shabbat Shirah', providing another opportunity to gather at OSRUI. To learn more click here.

Sharing the joke (one of so many) with Debbie, Jeff, and Dan

Debbie, we will all miss you more than words can say. Your memory is forever a blessing, and we will honor that memory by continuing to 'Sing Unto God'.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Debbie Friedman, Inspiration, Teacher, and Friend

2011-01-15T17:30:00.003-05:00

These words were delivered at Congregation B'nai Israel on Friday, January 14th, Shabbat Shirah, before the recitation of the Kaddish

‘O Sing Praises, sing a new song, sing a new song…’

These words, close to the start of the ‘Live at the Del’ album, were my first introduction to Debbie Friedman. It was around 1992 and I’d been attending a workshop in London about contemporary Jewish female composers who were doing remarkable things. In the UK Reform headquarters bookstore, this cassette was all they had. My mother and I put the tape on to drive back home and were singing along within seconds, even though we’d never heard these songs before. Because that’s what Debbie wanted you to do – sing! And she knew how to get everyone joining in. When Debbie came to the UK two years later, to lead a choir and several workshops at the Limmud Conference, she did something transformative. As Educator, Robbie Gringras notes, she ‘created an astonishing ad hoc choir of Brits who sang to the heavens with a freedom and joy that I’d never heard in the UK’.

Debbie transformed lives. I have lost count of the number of postings that I have read in the last few days where, whether someone had sung with her, met her for a moment, worked with her professionally, or knew her as a friend, they felt that she had inspired them to follow their dreams, and fully realize their potential. I was one of so many. When Debbie left the UK after that Limmud Conference, I established a monthly music gathering – Shir B’Yachad (sing together), with no purpose other than to sing our souls to God, but that path eventually led me to the Rabbinate, and to the USA.

Speaking about the message of her song, L’chi Lach, Debbie explained that, in the parsha Lech Lecha there are the words ‘veh'yei bracha’ – and you shall be a blessing. ‘Its not a suggestion’, she said. ‘It’s in the command form; Lech l’cha – go within and find that spark, that essence, and let it shine forth in the world – be a blessing. And that is exactly what she did.

I got to know Debbie as a dear friend over time and by the time I moved to New York in 2003 I felt like I had a big sister, confidant, and special friend in Debbie. One of the reasons that Debbie moved so many people was because she always spoke from the heart. She was the most real and honest person. She could see inside your soul and, when you were not being honest with yourself, she’d help you find yourself again. She was a private person but, when you had her trust, she would share her world with you and give you the privilege of giving her a little something back.

Debbie was also extremely funny. She loved slapstick, could tell a joke like few others, and would have audiences in stitches with laughter just as often as she would have them in tears from the emotional outpouring that her songs and prayers gave rise to. Even in the midst of a healing service there would be laughter and, of course, that was sometimes the most healing of all.

Debbie’s life and legacy were remarkable. She became ill in the prime of her career, after a reaction to some migraine medication. It left her with the neurological illness that she had for the rest of her life, and which showed considerable signs of worsening in recent years. Yet Debbie inspired us all by giving everything that she had. She did not grumble or complain – her burden became her inspiration, and her Mi Shebeirach blessing for healing, in addition to so much more liturgy set to inclusive, communal music, transformed how we pray, and how we feel when we pray.

Last Saturday morning, for parshat Bo, I had talked about freedom requiring us to confront our inner Pharaohs. I know from the conversations that I have had with close friends of Debbie’s in recent days that Debbie did exactly that in the last couple of months of her life and, despite her physical deterioration and pain, lived more fully than she had for so long, doing everything she loved with everyone she loved just one more time to the max – no holding back. She jammed until 4am on the last two nights of Limmud. When she got back she had a day out with her family doing some of the things that they loved to do together. This was the day before she was admitted into the hospital. She called and emailed many friends in recent weeks and months and gave each of us one last special gift. She freed herself from her slavery, even though it meant that as she crossed the parting sea, she left us behind. She is now dancing on the other shore with Miriam and all the people.

And the women dancing with their timbrels, followed Debbie as she sang her song. Sing a song for the one who came before us, Debbie and the people sang and sang the whole night long.’

Debbie Friedman z'l with beloved dog Farfel (now deceased; Gribenez was Debbie's beloved dog at the time of her death)

Debbie established 'The Renewal of Spirit Foundation' a number of years ago. A donation to this fund will enable projects that she was working on at the time of her death to be completed. For more information, go to debbiefriedman.com

Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Each song mentioned above is linked to an album where you can find that track on oysongs.com Debbie's albums are also available on several other sites, e.g. itunes, debbiefriedman.com

NPR Remembers Debbie Friedman

2011-01-11T13:00:00.001-05:00

From all things considered, broadcast yesterday, January 10th.

Mourning for Debbie Friedman

2011-01-10T13:48:00.000-05:00

Dear friends and congregants,
I am truly at a loss to share words at this time. Debbie Friedman touched the hearts and souls of thousands with her music and her presence. She was among my dearest friends for these past 12 years and I am deeply mourning her loss. I have no words.
I simply wish to share, for those who have not received the information through other channels, that the gathering for Debbie last night at the JCC Manhattan, which was streamed live, was also recorded and can be viewed here.

In addition, the funeral will be broadcast over the web. It is taking place on the West Coast tomorrow morning, at what will be 2pm EST. If you wish to attend the funeral in this way, the link is here.

Her memory is forever a blessing. May she be blessed as she goes on her way...
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

A Scottish Shabbes Bride visits on Shabbat Hogmanay

2011-01-02T21:14:00.000-05:00

On Kabbalat Shabbat, New Year's Eve, I shared some of my Scottish heritage with the congregation. Yearning for some of the traditions that I grew up with (primarily enjoying a dram of whiskey, eating shortbread, and watching the Hogmanay celebrations on BBC Scotland), we welcomed in the Scottish Shabbes Bride to the strains of Scotland the Brave, and closed out the service with Adon Olam sung to Auld Lang Syne. Adorned with a Scottish bunnet and a tartan tallit, my intention was primarily to bring some of the joy and celebratory mood of the night and to weave it into our Shabbes prayers.

Hogmanay is the name given to New Year's Eve in Scotland. No-one is quite sure of the origin of the name or its meaning - Wikipedia and other sources will share several theories about multiple linguistic roots. Not to be found among them, but quite tempting as a valid possibility, is the Hebrew 'Chag haMonnaie' - the Festival of Counting. Our Scottish Shabbes Bride was our 'First Footer' of the evening. While usually referring to the first person to cross the threshold of a neighbor after midnight, bearing whiskey, shortbread, a lump of coal and some salt, ours was the first to cross our threshold after we lit Shabbes candles. She entered in style and serenaded us, quite literally.

For a number of years, one of the highlights of the televised Hogmanay specials in Scotland was a short segment toward the end of the evening featuring a special message from a Presbyterian minister of some repute - the Rev. I.M. Jolly. While I could scarcely do justice to the joyful message that Rev. Jolly would share each year, I did my best to replicate his style and content. But for many congregants who wanted more, I present to you here, below, the original Rev. I.M. Jolly.
Wishing you all blessings, good health, and much happiness and joy in 2011.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Have a Jewish Christmas?

2010-12-20T11:00:00.009-05:00

Rabbi Brad Hirschfield, at beliefnet.com, wrote a fascinating blog piece last week entitled, 'What's a Jewish Christmas?' Actually, I found myself mostly fascinated by some of the comments it elicited; I found myself largely in tune with the questions and observations raised by the article itself. It begins by noting that a restaurant in Philadelphia is promoting 'A Very Jewish Christmas' on December 25th, with two evening sittings for an Asian-inspired meal while movies are playing on their flat-screen TVs. Rabbi Hirschfield asks the question:
Is Chinese food and a movie simply a way for Jews to insulate ourselves from the larger culture? A way in which to make sure that we have an agreed upon way to occupy ourselves while the majority celebrates "their" holiday? For some, that is almost certainly the case, and perhaps that is enough. But perhaps there is more.
Here at B'nai Israel, we also decided to pick up on this theme, somewhat tongue-in-cheek. We're ordering the Chinese Food in for a congregational meal and a movie at the Temple on Christmas Eve, as a communal event after our Kabbalat Shabbat service (call Lynn in our office at 203-336-1858 to register!). I'd thought about doing this after Christmas fell on Shabbat last year. There are times during the year when I join congregants who are going out for a meal after services. Before I get flamed for doing this as a Rabbi, for me this is my way of doing oneg Shabbat - the pleasure of a meal in the company of friends in the congregation. I don't go shopping on Shabbat, but I will sometimes go out for a meal. Last year, after I'd led Shabbat services, a group of us went over to a local Chinese restaurant. Lo and behold, at least 50% of the restaurant was filled with my congregation! (some who'd been to synagogue first, and some who hadn't). I might have doubled my community that night if I'd just started off the night at the restaurant and led services there! So, this year, I thought we'd bring the food to the synagogue, and do two kinds of Jewish in one evening.
Rabbi Hirschfield is exploring the question of whether, to do this kind of thing, means that Jews are, in some way, 'observing' a religious holiday that isn't ours to observe. But, and I think he is right on the button when he suggests:

Perhaps, this American Jewish custom is also a way of acknowledging that here in America, Christmas is "our" holiday too". I am not suggesting that we buy into a theology of Christmas or even of its traditionally Christian practices. I am simply suggesting that like the vast Christian majority among whom Jews live in America, it is a day which reminds us that we can celebrate the fact that others are celebrating. We need not fear that as we once had good reason to. In fact, we can delight in it, and not simply because it is a "day off".

We can celebrate that for the first time in the entire 2000 year history of the Jewish Diaspora the religious and cultural celebrations of others are safe and comfortable for us. We can choose to honor them in any number of ways. We can volunteer our time so that Christians can more easily take the day off, we can take a moment to consider the remarkable and unique beauty of "someone else's" holiday, etc. The list goes on and on, and when Jews do those things, it really is a very Jewish Christmas.

Several of the comments on Rabbi Hirschfield's blog were from Jews who were clearly turned off by what they perceived to be a Rabbi advocating this Jewish 'observance' of Christmas. I don't think that was what he was doing; rather, simply observing what already is the case for many Jewish families. Many times in the Mishnah - the first collection of rabbinic rulings and discussions where early rabbis were trying to figure out how to apply Torah law to the reality of the Jewish community of their day - the advice was given, 'go out and see what the people are doing'. Often this advice was applied when there wasn't an obvious 'right' or 'wrong' to a question of practice - we aren't talking about morality or ethics here. The advice was sometimes applied in a situation where, pragmatically, the Rabbis were looking to understand what the cultural norm in their community was and, where possible, have Jewish practice fit alongside it rather than be set up in opposition to it.

In the case of Christmas in America, I think there is a sense that Jews being together for a meal (whether Chinese or otherwise) is a way of participating in the feel good, coming togetherness of this season. I know that for many in my community, being Jewish is something they are proud of, but at the same time become uncomfortable when being Jewish comes at the cost of having to block out or guard against participation in the dominant culture of which we are a part. And when we are talking about family time, friends going out to dinner together, we are not talking about taking on a religion or belief system that is not ours - we are talking about something much more sociological.

A case in point... a conversation I overheard at a coffeeshop last week among three young Christian women. Apparently at least one of them was going somewhere nice and hot over Christmas. They were looking forward to a non-denominational service of gratitude that would take place around the pool of the resort on Christmas Day, but apparently one member of their party (perhaps a mother, mother-in-law or friend?) didn't feel like they were really doing Christmas unless they went to Church. The three women were expressing their feelings that the meaning of the holiday for them was about family, friends and celebration - the pool felt like a much better place for this than having to get dressed up to go to a strange Church. As one put it, 'I believe in a God who is everywhere... and I certainly feel God's presence on the beach!'

Now, I'm not here to comment on degrees of religiosity or the deeper meaning of Christmas to Christians. Clearly this group of women didn't have Jesus on their mind. But, whatever we may feel about that, they represent a large number of Americans who see Christmas in a very similar way - family, friends, food, celebration and appreciation. And it is that that so many Jewish families are tuning into and doing in their own, uniquely American Jewish ways on Christmas.

At B'nai Israel, we wish everyone a good holiday season, especially to our Christian staff who work in our offices and our building, and to many of our member families who will be helping the Christian members of their family celebrate the holiday. To all the rest, whether it be a Chinese meal or something else - B'tai Avon - Enjoy your meal!

Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Why the repealing of Don't Ask Don't Tell is a spiritual matter too

2010-12-18T17:03:00.001-05:00

This Shabbat we were blessed with some very good news from our government. Finally, the policy, 'Don't Ask Don't Tell' has been repealed. This is the policy by which men and women who serve in our Armed Forces who are gay or lesbian could only do so at the cost of keeping this part of their identity secret. It meant much more than simply not talking about it; it meant being especially careful about where they were and who they were with in public space in their time off too - anything that might be construed as a public revelation of their sexual identity.

Lt. Dan Choi, a courageous advocate for repealing DADT

The Reform movement took on this issue as a social policy matter that our Religious Action Center lobbied on because it was matter of basic decency and human rights that this discriminatory policy be abolished. But it is also a spiritual matter. Perhaps what has troubled and yes, even angered, me the most about the debates that have been heard on the Senate floor, is the complete lack of comprehension of what it means to ask someone, and especially someone who lives in the kind of closed environment of an army barrack or base, to hide one piece of the essence of who they are. Sen. James Inhofe (R-Okla), for example, was quoted in the press as having stated: "I was shocked at how well this has worked for a long period of time," Inhofe said. "We have a saying in Oklahoma, 'if it ain't broke, don't fix it.' Well, this isn't broke, it's working very well."

The Senator clearly has absolutely no concept of what it feels like to be hiding in public as a gay man or lesbian woman. He clearly has no inkling of the effect it has on the nature of one's friendships, one's relationship to parents, grandparents and siblings, to be keeping a piece of oneself secret for fear that the information may become public and bring an end to one's career. And the Senator clearly cannot imagine how, when one no longer has to hide, the ability to simply fully 'be' is a soul-expanding, spiritual experience. Whatever one's faith, the ability to be whole, and the inner peace that comes with a sense of the integration of the parts of one's life, and the ability to be fully present to others in the sense of the spiritual 'I-Thou' relationship that Martin Buber wrote of in his famous book of the same name... this is as central an aspect of the spiritual life as any other I can think of.

I am delighted that this terrible policy is now gone. I look forward to seeing it bear further fruits as it becomes equally evident that other things denied gay men and lesbian women by the Federal government, purely on the basis of sexual identity, simply have no place in a modern, civilized democracy in a country that claims that all citizens are equal under law.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

A Poem for Shabbat

2010-12-17T14:30:00.001-05:00

In the wonderful world of social networking, whether it be on Facebook, Twitter, or via this blog, the connections made between people who might never ordinarily meet can be deeply enriching. While, like so many things connected to new technology, there is the 'dark side', on the whole I have found it to be a great blessing to both reach out and be reached by the world of connections facilitated by these still relatively new technologies. In truth, there's a spiritual quality to the possibilities for me - I have made some very special connections with people over sharing thoughts about faith, poetry, and life experiences.

This is all in preamble to today's blog offering, which is a re-posting from a sweet and spiritual blog, http://staceyzrobinson.blogspot.com/ - a blogger based in Skokie, IL. Stacey shared a poem for Shabbat a little while back on her blog. We connected via twitter and, exploring her blog, I found some wonderful, down-to-earth heart-felt observations and sharing about life, and a sense of the spiritual in the everyday. That's my kind of blog. I look forward to reading more in the coming months, and I hope you will too.

In the meantime, here is her poem for Shabbat. May we all be blessed with stepping across the threshold, into a peaceful Shabbat.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

A poem for Shabbat by Stacey Robinson

And so we stand

On the edge of this week

Pebbles strewn at our feet

The distance between us an endless heartbeat

The difference like night

Like day

Like light and darkness

Like God

Who separates the days

And brings us

Ever and always

To this holy edge

To this Shabbat

Where we stand

Trembling with effort

Weary from a week filled with

Noise and action and movement

Restless and driven

From one moment to the next

Until we are brought to this edge

This endless and always edge

To this Shabbat

Sacred and at peace

We pause

We breathe

At rest

Separate

Together

With God

Together

With one another

In a flickerflame of candle light

The setting of the sun

From one breath to the next

One heartbeat

We stand on the edge and cross into the infinite

As one

Into peace

Into Shabbat

Rabbi Santavitch is coming to town (with some help from a shmelf)

2010-12-07T15:02:00.000-05:00

My brother runs 2002 studios (http://www.2002studios.com) - a music and content production company. Its a very diverse company that does everything from original composition and arrangement, to recording and engineering albums, to voice-overs, to computer games ... anything where sound is needed in any multi-media context. Recently he was asked to contribute the music to a seasonal computer game, originally called 'A little helper: Christmas Collect', my brother suggested to the game designers, 'Why not add a Chanukah option?' Sure enough they did. You now have the option of answering the question 'What are you celebrating?' with either 'Christmas' or 'Chanukah'.

When you select the 'Chanukah' option, you are introduced to the scenario: 'Rabbi Santavitch is packing his Chanukah and holiday season gifts onto his snow mobile to take to the local Jewish Community Center for his Jewish and multifaith friends. Whilst on his way to the community center, he didn't notice his presents falling all over the frozen lake ...'

We discover that it is our job to play the part of the shmelf who wants to help out by skating over the lake, collecting the gifts.

Obviously, we're having fun with the Santa story, but this is one of those Chanukah moments that I really love; a Jewish expression of the universal spirit of gift-giving and helping to spread some light and happiness around. Its not deep but it is an important part of the wider culture of this season and, so often, when families fret about how to make Chanukah 'compete' with the Christmas season, what we're missing is that the piece that everyone wants to be part of is the spirit of giving and receiving. Its fun, it feels good, and we want to be a part of it too. And I'm not bothered about borrowing from the broader culture in this playful way. We all get the joke. And the wonderful irony of Chanukah is that, if you look at just about every single feature of 'traditional Chanukah celebration' (the menorah, the latkes, the dreidle, the tune of Maoz Tzur...) you'll find that we've borrowed every single one of them from another culture (the Canaanites, Eastern Europe, a medieval gambling game, the earliest form of which has been traced back to Anglo-Saxon England in the Tenth Century, and a medieval German marching tune!)

Its a cute little game that is - beware - rather addictive.
So... a little gift from the Gurevitz clan - play the game here. Enjoy, share with your friends and a very happy 7th night of Chanukah!
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Hanukkah: Shining a Light on Freedom of Religion

2010-12-03T15:00:00.005-05:00

Hanukkah, the Jewish Festival of Lights, falls on December 1^st this year. The Festival of Lights, originating in the celebration of the victory of the Maccabees over the Syrian Greek Empire and the restoration of the Temple in Jerusalem in 165 BCE, has come to symbolize many eternal and universal themes over the centuries, particularly themes of hope and creating light in dark times. In American life today, it is not unusual for these eternal and universal messages to be blended with contemporary concerns.

So, for example, a Jewish environmental group (www.coejl.org) launched a CFL light bulb campaign a few years ago, re-reading the ancient story of the miracle of the little jar of oil found in the desecrated Temple by the Maccabees that lasted for eight nights instead of the expected one.

The Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism draws lines of connection between the themes of Hanukkah and many contemporary social issues, urging us to use some of our time and resources to go beyond the donut-, latke-eating, and present-giving norms, and see the festival as inspiration to make a difference on issues of economic justice, and children’s issues, among others (http://rac.org/pubs/holidayguides/).

This year, a press release about another connection between the Festival and contemporary issues caught my attention. In the time of the Maccabees, there had been many years of cultural assimilation, with Jews in the land of Israel absorbing and incorporating aspects of Syrian-Greek culture. The rebellion came when there was a shift in Syrian-Greek perspective, and traditional Jewish practices and rituals became forbidden. The Maccabees were fighting to restore their freedom to practice their religion. While the story is more complicated than that, the theme remains all too relevant today.

This November, former British Prime Minister, Tony Blair, launched a global education program ‘Face to Faith.’ In a press release from his Faith Foundation, he explained: “Face to Faith connects students aged 11-16 from different schools in 15 countries across the world via video-conferencing and a secure website. The program aims to break down stereotypes and broaden horizons by engaging students of different cultures, religions and beliefs in discussing global issues from different perspectives.” A number of schools across the

USA

are already involved. But I was also encouraged and moved to learn that Mr. Blair is launching the program in Israel on the first night of Hanukkah at an event at the Leo Baeck Education Center in Haifa, along with their Muslim counterparts from the El Gazali School in Um el Fahm.

What an inspiring message for us all this year at Hanukkah! The respect for religious freedom necessitates our interacting with each other and learning about each other. Every Spring for the past three years, I’ve been involved in a program that brings Jewish, Christian and Muslim teens together to learn more about each other. This coming year, on April 3^rd, the Council of Churches Bridge Building Ministry will be running their Annual Youth Conference (contact info@ccgb.org to learn more).

As we light the candles each night of Hanukkah this year, think of another faith group that you wish to know more about. Commit to reading something online (www.beliefnet.com is a wonderful resource), find a local class, visit another place of worship, invite a faith speaker into your community, or organize an interfaith dialogue program between members of your community and that of another faith.

May the light of your faith shine brightly and contribute to a more tolerant, compassionate, and loving world.

Happy Hanukkah!

This article was published this week in several local town newspapers in Fairfield County by the Hersam Acorn consortium.

Meditating on the Menorah for Chanukah

2010-12-01T16:00:00.004-05:00

This Chanukah, I will be spending the first few days of the festival at a silent meditation retreat. The retreat is being held at The Garrison Institute and will be led by Sylvia Boorstein and Sharon Salzberg. It isn't specifically a retreat on the themes of Chanukah. Rather, the focus will be on some of the central themes of meditation practice - cultivating compassion, generosity and integrity. But for me, personally, there is a connection to the spiritual message of Chanukah.

The story of the little jar of oil that miraculously lasted for eight days instead of one is the eternal story of keeping the flame of hope alive, even in dark times. Rabbi Akiva taught that, once the lights of the menorah in the Temple in Jerusalem could no longer be kept alight at all times, following the destruction of the 2nd temple in 70 CE, we now had to understand the commandment to keep the fires burning at all times as a metaphor for the fires of the spirit and faith within.

In Jewish tradition, we are blessed with the practice of Shabbat - a weekly opportunity to replenish our little jar of oil that can help to sustain us. Our lives can become so busy and stressed that we fail to allow the space to just breathe and notice where we are. To take one day, or even one hour, to simply be and reflect can help us refocus on where we are, who we are, and where we want to be in our lives. Meditation practice is one way to create a vessel to help us to do this on a regular basis in our own lives. Taking an extended period of time in a meditation retreat can help deepen the practice and expose us to the possibilities that the practice can reveal to us.

Many cannot afford the luxury of a 4 day retreat - this is my first in over 6 years. For me, it is a time of re-dedication to my own spiritual practice. Chanukah means dedication, originally referring to the re-dedication of the Temple after the Maccabees regained control of Jerusalem from the Syrian-Greeks. For me, it is a way to keep the fires burning at all times, ensuring that they do not go out.

Below is an opportunity to bring just a little meditation into your celebrations of Chanukah this year - just 15 minutes from Rabbi Miriam Klotz, from a podcast from the Institute of Jewish Spirituality. You can find more podcasts and meditations at their website here.

Happy Chanukah - may your light within never go out, and may you be like the shamash - the one who lights the flames within others by the things that you do and the way that you walk in the world.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

	Rabbi Myriam Klotz - Chanukah Meditation .mp3

	Found at bee mp3 search engine

Women's Torah Project - celebrating a 'first' in the Jewish world.

2010-11-27T18:00:00.001-05:00

On October 15,2010, the Women's Torah Project, the joint work of 6 sofrot - 6 female Torah scribes - from all over the world, was brought together and completed for the Kadima Reconstructionist congregation in Seattle, Washington. Below, a short video tells the story of this wonderful project.

Women's Torah from Sasha Perry on Vimeo.

The full story of the Women's Torah project can be found at http://www.womenstorah.com/. On their website is the following poem to mark the culmination of this wonderful achievement:

The Torah Completed by Women

Together we worked,
Embellished it all,
Together, we wove, many pieces;

Together we joined,
The parchment -- each line,
Accurately, singing its praises;

That moment in time,
His-tory was changed,
By her work, which was honored and cherished;

To set a new stride,
Carried forward by one,
Whose insight was never daunting;

That beautiful sight,
Not fathomed before,
Was ordered by deep emotion;

And witnessed by many,
Like on Mt. Sinai,
Proclaimed -- by the spirit, there, present;

A dream that was high,
We knew its dear meaning,
Much more, than just fulfilling;

With love and affection;
The pinnacle reached:
The contract with G-d -- Unbroken!

So let it be told --
In words very Bold --
The Torah -- Completed -- by Women!

by I. Penn, Oct. 2010
Sisters of the Torah Siyyum Oct 13 – 17, 2010
Seattle, Washington, USA

Kol hakavod! What a wonderful achievement!

Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz (with thanks to Judith Lessler at B'nai Israel for sharing this)

#Epicthanks - Happy #Tweetsgiving 2010: Turning Thanksgiving into Thanks-living

2010-11-23T12:00:00.003-05:00

Last November, when I was still a newbie blogger, only 2 months old, I came across a wonderful project from a group called Epic Change. From their website, they tell their story:

Epic Thanks is a global celebration that seeks to change the world through the power of gratitude. Founded in 2008, the original TweetsGiving celebration was imagined and implemented by six volunteers in six days, and quickly became the #1 trending topic on Twitter as thousands of grateful tweets from across the globe filled the stream.

But the truth is TweetsGiving was never about twitter or social media. It's about the gratitude in our hearts, and the transformative power our thankfulness can have when we share it with one another. It's about cultivating a deep sense of those remarkable souls who create hope in our world. That's why this year, TweetsGiving becomes Epic Thanks.

Over the past two years, from the gratitude of thousands, this global event has built two classrooms and a library in Arusha, Tanzania, where the twitterkids, led by local changemaker Mama Lucy Kamptoni, learn and grow at one of the best primary schools in their country.

Epic Change inspired me to write a blog for Tweetsgiving last year, and I shared a brief meditation for Thanksgiving. This year their Epic Thanks site goes live at 12pm on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving (the same time that this blog is set to post, as are many more who are on board this year's project). Using Social Media, the project encourages everyone to spread some gratitude around by tweeting, posting on Facebook, and blogging on what you are thankful for.

President John F. Kennedy said "As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them", and Matthew Henry, C17th pastor taught: "Thanksgiving is good but thanks-living is better." The traditional Jewish prayer that we wake up to is 'Modeh Ani lefanecha... Thankful am I before You, Living and Eternal God, who has restored my soul to me in mercy; great is Your faith.' Sensing that God has entrusted our soul within our bodies, we are inspired (literally 'breathed into') as human beings to do something purposeful with this gift of life.

If you are blessed with the ability to sit down for a good meal, among family or good friends, this Thanksgiving, add to the bounty with some 'Thanks-living'. Make a donation to Epic Change, or another cause dear to your heart that will make a real difference in the lives of others. Share the things you are thankful for with those around your Thanksgiving table, but also on your Facebook page or on twitter (and use the #Epicthanks or #tweetsgivings tags when you do!). Commit to doing one act of kindness, one deed of giving in your local community, in the coming week.

(Congregants of B'nai Israel - we are still collecting for our 'Kindle a Light' program, and your gift of a Stop and Shop card of $10 or up will be distributed to the elderly in need in the community. You can drop them in at the Temple office any time next week).

Happy Thanksgiving

Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Let's do the Time-Warp Again? A Response to Bruce Feiler

2010-11-22T17:00:00.014-05:00

This past weekend's 'Style' section in the New York Times contained a couple of thought-provoking Jewish-themed pieces. I'm leaving the one about Bar mitvah studies on the Web to our Director of Education, Ira Wise, who has written a great blog response here. The other article that caught my eye was 'Time-Shifting Holidays', written by Bruce Feiler.

In this latter piece, Feiler confesses that, having brought the family together for Thanksgiving, which they celebrate a day late, they then conclude '...the following day when we celebrate all eight nights ofHanukkah in one madcap afternoon.'

Feiler acknowledges that he has heard the disapproval of a Rabbi who critiques this pragmatic decision because it makes the family dining room the hub of Jewish life instead of Jewish community in the wider sense. Toward the end of the article, the Rabbi gets to speak again, this time somewhat acknowledging the good intentions of bringing a seasonal Jewish festival into the home at a time when the extended family is present to share the celebration, but encouraging the individual elements of that family to seek out a community where they can also celebrate at the appointed time back in their various home towns. I rather like that answer (although I might not have been so begrudging in the way I would put it).

But it seems to me that there is much of importance that is left unsaid. That a Jewish family wants to take advantage of the hard-to-find opportunities to be together to acknowledge and celebrate the Jewish in their lives is important and admirable. Jewish organizations and community professionals can be thinking of resources that we might provide to help families make these festival celebrations meaningful in their home settings. For those who live far from a synagogue community, there are other models of creating Jewish community with non-family members (the chavurah - a smaller, less structured gathering of families from a geographical area - being the most obvious model), and there is value in doing so.

What struck me about Feiler's piece, and the other piece that highlighted the use of technology to facilitate bar and bat mitzvah training without the need to be part of a Jewish community (although, as Ira shares in his blog, the technology is valuable in many ways within the context of synagogue community life too), is how little was conveyed about the purpose of being part of a larger Jewish community.

Too often I hear critiques of the kind expressed in these articles where the argument 'but you are separating yourself from the community' is presented as a fait a complis - it is assumed that everyone knows what that means and that those who make an active choice not to join a community are either woefully ignorant about the centrality of community in Judaism or are intentionally choosing a scaled-down, privatized (and implied is often 'selfish') version of what our faith has to offer.

I assume neither of these things. I think that articles like these provide wonderful opportunities for synagogue communities and Jewish professionals to think more deeply about what makes being part of a Jewish community meaningful in the lives of Jewish families and individuals. And then to think about how to get better at conveying this meaning to those who haven't 'drunk the Kool-aid' yet. That's not just those who are not yet affiliated with our communities, but also those who are affiliated but have done so with the narrow agenda of giving their children a Jewish education through to the end of middle school and who haven't been adequately exposed to the far greater potential that exists for their entire family in engaging with the community in a more holistic way - one that will continue to be meaningful when their children have grown up and left home.

How we do that is not something easily conveyed in a brief, sound-bite blog answer. Its something that is experienced more than described, so the first step is about getting better at sharing the experience, so that others will want to have that experience too. Congregants who have fallen in love with celebrating, doing social action, comforting, learning, and sharing life's transitional moments (birth, weddings, bar mitzvah, funerals of loved ones etc.) in the context of community are some of the best ambassadors of meaningful Jewish community life. I love seeing members of our congregation post something on their Facebook about their anticipation of a community event, or sharing the pleasure of having just returned from one; if I'm seeing it on their wall, then so are all their other Facebook friends. When that leads to a trail of comments and 'likes', the feel good of Jewish community life can become infectious.

I recently heard about a wonderful email sent out by one person to a group of others about our Young Families Chavurah - a great opportunity to start experiencing meaningful Jewish community life while our children are still very young, which meets at B'nai Israel every Shabbat morning from 9.15 a.m.-11 a.m. This young mother hadn't had an opportunity to attend with her children since the program started, but she'd heard such great things about it that she was looking forward to her first opportunity to do so, and hoped other families would join her family in tasting this experience for themselves. There is no flyer and no email that the professional staff of our synagogue could have created to better convey the potential of participating in the chavurah than this one mother's email to her peers.

We've still got plenty of work to do at B'nai Israel, but one of the things we've learned is the importance of putting the structures and means of communication in place so that everyone in our community can access community living, and be a part of sharing that experience with others. This blog is just a little slice of communicating that message and, if you're looking for your way in to the experience of being a part of a vibrant, Jewish community, I hope we can help you find the gateway that is right for you.

Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Speaking to our GLBT Youth - a pledge to do better

2010-10-11T16:20:00.000-04:00

This sermon was delivered last Friday at Congregation B'nai Israel. It is posted on the blog today in honor of National Coming Out Day.

On September 24th the Jewish Standard, the Jewish newspaper of Northern NJ, published an engagement announcement. We get the Jewish Standard because it covers the area where Suri lived until this Summer, and where she still teaches part-time. The announcement caught my eye because one of the young men in the announcement was Avi Smolen, one of Suri’s students some years back, and the son of the past Head of Middle School. And it caught my eye because they were announcing his engagement to another young man, Justin Rosen. We delighted in the announcement. These two young men met at Ramah camp, and both are working or training for professions in Jewish community service.

The following week, the newspaper published an editorial explaining that, after an unnamed group of Orthodox Rabbis met with them, they were apologizing for publishing the announcement, for any pain and consternation it caused, and would not be publishing same-sex engagement or wedding announcements again. Since that announcement, the newspaper has been deluged with letters, has met with a larger group of Rabbis from all denominations, has had this story covered in almost every Jewish publication, and many non-Jewish ones such as the New York Times and the Huffington Post blog. The editors have since stated that they may have been too hasty in their decision…

I think we are all aware, this Jewish story emerged in the very same week that a young gay man from Northern NJ took his own life, and so this story has taken on significance far beyond being a parochial Jewish community issue.

In recent weeks, the media has helped to make us aware of the tragic suicides of several teens. All were subjected to relentless bullying or humiliation and all were gay. The death of Tyler Clementi, a student at Rutgers University, gained most attention, due to the shocking circumstances where two students recorded and broadcast a private encounter to their friends. But there was also Asher Brown, 13, who shot himself when the anti-gay bullying at school became too much for him. Billy Lucas, aged 15, hanged himself in his grandmother’s barn, following unending taunting and bullying at school because of his sexuality. Seth Walsh, 13, also killed himself by hanging, as did Raymond Chase, an openly gay 19-year-old student at Johnson & Wales University in Providence, R.I. Unfortunately, these are not rare occurrences, although they’ve received more attention recently; approximately 1/3rd of all teen suicides are gay teens.

We can all, I’m sure, feel the enormous pain of parents who lose a child this way. We can feel for these poor young men who felt so isolated or humiliated or doubtful that it would ever get better and they would ever be able to enjoy their lives that they were driven to such extreme measures. But, if we really care about these young men and feel pained by these stories, then we have to do something more.

Many GLBT adults have stepped up in just these past couple of weeks, gaining new confidence that there is something that they can do to make a difference in the lives of our youth. Something about these recent events, and the fact that so many suicides were publicly acknowledged in the media in such a short period of time, has enabled a new grassroots response to spring up remarkably quickly. Dan Savage, who is better known as a syndicated sex advice columnist, launched a simple and powerful project called ‘It Gets Better’. He and his husband posted a very honest and heart-felt youtube where they shared that they had both experienced bullying and challenges as awkward teens, but yet they had kept going and made a life, and found each other. Beyond the teenage years, they said, ‘it gets better.’

Dan explained that he realized that we had allowed those who won’t permit GLBT adults to speak directly to teens and who, by doing so, make us invisible, to control access for too long. But today’s technology, and especially youtube and facebook, means that we don’t need to ask permission. Since launching the ‘It Gets Better’ channel on Youtube 2 weeks ago, the channel has been viewed well over 1 million times. Dan’s video has been viewed over ½ million times and there are literally hundreds of short youtubes that have been posted on the channel by ordinary GLBT men and women, including teens and college students, all speaking directly to teens, sharing some of the difficulties they went through but telling them that they are not alone, help is available, and things will get better.

Turning to Judaism, and the Jewish community … what is our role? Aside from offering a social commentary, why is this Shabbat sermon material? The Union for Reform Judaism, the Religious Action Center, the Central Conference of American Rabbis, and NFTY have done much work in recent years to ensure that Reform Judaism stands for Judaism that is welcoming and open to all, where everyone is seen as an equal with a God-given soul, and where no-one should have to hide some aspect of that soul and essential self in order to belong and fit in.

In addition to the advocacy of the movement for civil marriage for all, equal protections in the workplace, and equality recognized in all aspects of Federal and State law, we understand, as Reform Jews, that an essential aspect of one’s spirituality and religious expression is deeply connected to being able to feel whole. Being open about who one is, and who one shares their life with, is an aspect of that spiritual wholeness. And so, for Reform Judaism, the inclusion and equality of the GLBT community is a matter of religious and not only social or political significance.

When one is talking about the spiritual, there is nothing so painful and jarring as looking at the face of suicide. People can endure terrible things, but when the spirit is crushed and one feels so deeply trapped, it can seem that there is only one way out. When the spirit is so utterly crushed it can seem impossible to reach out and seek help.

That is why we must do more to ensure that the GLBT experience is a visible and explicit part of our communities – school communities, youth communities, and religious communities.

Now, I know that it must seem to many of you that this is something of a non-issue at B’nai Israel; after all, here I am on the bima addressing you all this evening. Suri and I publicly celebrated our marriage with this congregation this Summer, and we were delighted to share that with our community.

But the truth is, even I am self-censoring in how and when I share this aspect of self. Someone who is heterosexual doesn’t usually hesitate to refer to ‘my wife and I’ or ‘my husband and I’ in the normal flow of conversation. A heterosexual norm is implied and not something worthy of special attention when a man says ‘Susan and I saw a great movie last night’, or ‘My wife and I just returned from a fabulous vacation’. Yet, when I open my mouth, I am always conscious that these basic sentences are potentially charged, depending on my context. Each time I am potentially ‘coming out’ and each time, in so doing, I am making homosexuality a visible rather than invisible part of the everyday landscape. And there are many times when I self-censor and question whether it is wise or appropriate to do so. I think this is because, to some degree, I, like many other GLBT people, carry a degree of internalized homophobia where to say something that is a completely natural flow of conversation for a heterosexual person becomes ‘making a point’ or ‘pushing a homosexual agenda’ or is, in some other way, seen as a political act beyond simply mentioning who you went to the movies or on vacation with.

And one of the places where I self-censor the most is with our youth. I worry about whether their parents will react. I worry about whether I’ll get pigeonholed as ‘the lesbian rabbi’ and what that will mean for my ability to reach people and do my job. But what I have come to realize in these past few weeks is that this self-consciousness and self-censoring in certain situations essentially makes me invisible as an example of a GLBT Jew to some in our community. And that is what the Jewish Standard in NJ is doing when it decides that it will not publish our engagement announcements. When Suri and I wrote our letter to the newspaper, we acknowledged that we had been guilty of waiting for someone else to be the ‘first’; we didn’t want to draw attention to our celebration, the way that others delight in a NY Times listing, or an announcement in a community newspaper. And, in so doing, we have failed our teens.

Last night, at the temple board meeting, we voted to sign Congregation B’nai Israel on to a pledge from Keshet, a Boston-based grass-roots organization committed to the full inclusion of GLBT Jews in Jewish community. The full text of the pledge is on our Temple website, and specifically on our GLBT outreach page. The pledge reads as follows:

Do Not Stand Idly By: A Jewish Community Pledge to Save Lives

‘As members of a tradition that sees each person as created in the divine image, we respond with anguish and outrage at the spate of suicides brought on by homophobic bullying and intolerance.

We hereby commit to ending homophobic bullying or harassment of any kind in our synagogues, schools, organizations, and communities. As a signatory, I pledge to speak out when I witness anyone being demeaned for their actual or perceived sexual orientation or gender identity. I commit myself to do whatever I can to ensure that each and every person in my community is treated with dignity and respect.’

Our congregation has had a GLBT outreach group, Kulanu, for nearly 7 years. Some of its members are known to you, and others are not. We run a program for BIFTY almost every year, and we aim to run an educational event for the whole congregation each year. We are available as a resource to any adult or teen who needs support, and both Rabbi Prosnit and I want to be there for anyone who is struggling with their sexual or gender identity, experiencing homophobic bullying, or is a parent wanting to know how to help their child. We also want to celebrate with you as you recognize your true self and God-given soul; Rabbis in our movement have written blessings for coming out, for it is indeed a blessing to feel more complete and whole for who you are. This Monday is National Coming Out Day – we want to celebrate the diversity of identity that is part of the tapestry of humankind, and not only mourn the tragedies.

I pledge to do better by our teens. The cost of invisibility, whether in society at large, or the Jewish community in particular, is just too high.

Seven dances for Simchat Torah in the Youtube Era

2010-09-28T18:28:00.000-04:00

On Simchat Torah (literally 'Rejoicing of the Torah'), one of the ways we rejoice is by dancing with the Torah. Traditionally we do 7 hakafot - 7 circles, or 7 rounds of singing and dancing before we read the closing verses followed immediately by the opening verses of the Torah. In Kabbalah - Jewish mystical teachings - these 7 cycles are associated with the 7 lower sephirot of the Tree of Life. These vibrate with the energy of 7 attributes of God and we, made in God's likeness, also possess these attributes. At our synagogue, each of our cycles is accompanied by our wonderful B'nai Israel Band striking up another tune, but we don't really pick up on different energies or styles for our 7 dances; we begin a little more sedately, but then we bring things up to a lively tempo and we largely remain there for the rest of our celebration. Its a great atmosphere, and we try to ensure that as many people can dance with a Sefer Torah as possible.

But this year I thought I'd explore the idea of these 7 different energies/attributes through associations with dance on the blog - something that is possible in this Youtube Era. And so, with a little help from Google, this year's Simchat Torah blog is a journey through the 7 hakafot as 7 dance images that reflect the 7 energies of the sephirot.

Hakafah 1: Hesed - the Dance of Love
Free-flowing, generous, all-encompassing; like the waves lapping on the shore, over and over...

Hakafah 2: Gevurah - the Dance of Power
Hard-edged, bounded, firm, strong, staccato...

Hakafah 3: Tiferet - the Dance of Beauty
Graceful, balanced, blending, soulful...

Hakafah 4: Netsach - the Dance of Eternity
Vision, expansive, unfolding, embracing...

The artwork of Francene Hart, Visionary Artist

We are surrounded by spiral every time we step into relationship. Guided by love and respect, spiral fearlessly into what might just be one of the most important dances of life. Know that in loving you will be loved.

Hakafah 5: Hod - the Dance of Splendor
Explosion of sensation, joyful fulfillment, elegant, spirit (ruach)...

Excerpts from Tai Lihua: a Silent World of Splendor

After an overdose of streptomycin to treat a high fever at the age of two, Tai began to lose her hearing. She didn't realize this until she tried to join a group of friends in a sound-distinguishing game. She was five by then and other kids were going to normal schools. Little Tai, thrust in deep depression and solitude, had to go to a primary school for the disabled.

Life had to carry on but a young heart sobbed on in a soundless world… All until one day when a teacher at the special school brought a drum to class and started to beat it, Tai was thrilled by the rhythmic vibration that passed over her body from under her feet. She was overwhelmed and simply bent over to the wooden floor: It was the most beautiful sound in the world to her.

To again experience such a feeling, Tai would press her little face to a loudspeaker and imagine the dance on TV. It was her language and the only one, to express her understanding of the world. From then on, Tai became obsessed with dancing...

Tai's outstanding performance brought her to the world stage. She is the only Chinese dancer to have performed both at Carnegie Hall inNew York and La Scala in Milan. And a poster of The Spirit of the Peacock by her at Carnegie Hall is the only one from China.

Now when the curtain rises, the lights come up and the music fades in, there is Tai in the elegant flowing dress signature to the piece. She moves with her impressionistic interpretation of that precise-stepping and extraordinary land bird. As if in a silent wood, on a green lawn, or by a gurgling brook, with expression of face and body she captivates with physical interpretation and spirit

Hakafah 6: Yesod - the Dance of Foundation/Life Force

Righteousness, justice, inclusion, connection...

There are so many Dance Foundations to choose from, focusing on all kinds of dance of all kinds of communities. The following clip from the American Dance Wheels Foundation felt like a particularly appropriate interpretation of life force; something unexpected, yet powerfully integrative:

Hakafah 7: Malchut - the Dance of the Shechinah
The earth, the moon, the apple orchard, the rainbow...

Super Sukkahs - the Sukkah re-imagined at Union Square, NYC

2010-09-18T19:00:00.003-04:00

If you are in NYC or able to head down there this Sunday or Monday, make sure you check out Sukkah City at Union Square - http://www.sukkahcity.com/

See the Sukkah re-imagined and renewed with the 12 winning entries of a competition that has born fruit to some very creative and imaginative designs. This was a project initiated by Reboot, who are often finding innovative ways to reclaim and re-make ritual into something very contemporary and thought-provoking.

Take a look at the sukkah city website, and see them up close if you can. Perhaps they will inspire you to try something a little different this year in your Sukkah; perhaps you'll try your hand at creating a Sukkah for the very first time - it's a great thing to do with family or friends, and a lot of fun.

At B'nai Israel our structure is a bit more conventional, but we let our kids go to town in the creative inventions they construct to decorate for us. Sukkah decorating is from 5-6pm, followed by a dairy, pot-luck dinner, and then a service for the whole community at 7pm. If you are in the neighborhood, do join us!

How to ensure your Yom Kippur isn't an epic fail

2010-09-15T16:45:00.000-04:00

Rabbi Donniel Hartman published a thought-provoking piece this past week entitled 'Yom Kippur: Why it doesn't work outside of the synagogue' . He argues that Yom Kippur has been a profound failure as a force for change within individuals and communities who spend the day in synagogue. He notes, 'The passion, seriousness, and devotion which accompany many of us throughout Yom Kippur, peters out into a form of amnesia during the break-fast meal as we return to our behavior of yesterday.'

Hartman goes on to say, 'The problem with Yom Kippur in the synagogue is that it is too complete and comprehensive. It creates the myth of putting all of one's life and behavior up for judgment, where we confront every one of our failings and repent for them all. The list of sins in the vidui is too extensive to have any impact on the life of a real person. For a prayer, and within the isolated environment of the synagogue, it is fine. As a force for facilitating change in real life, the comprehensive nature of our service makes it impossible to be a significant factor in everyday life.'

I think he's right about this. One of the reasons why I, and others, have used blogs and other events and programs during the month of Elul, is to provide vehicles to help those who want to engage more deeply in a spiritual practice that can help us to really work on aspects of ourselves that we want to change. It simply isn't possible to just show up on Yom Kippur and expect anything of great meaning or significance that will have any lasting impact on our lives or our community to happen in those 24 hours.

But while I've been focused on preparing, reviewing, and taking time to reflect on aspects of our selves in advance of the day, Rabbi Hartman's proposal for the day itself and what happens afterwards, is also sage advice:
If Yom Kippur is to be the force that our tradition aspires it to be, it must cease to be the end and culmination of the process, and instead serve as its beginning. The purpose of the all-inclusive lists cannot be to ask an individual to review all of his life, but to create a menu from within which every individual can find one dimension, one quality that they can commit to working on.

As a Rabbi working in a large Reform congregation, one of my roles is to lead the congregation through the liturgy of the day. And there is a great deal of liturgy. There is a place for the almost constant rhythm of words and music maintaining the momentum of mood and focus but, as a congregant, I do not recommend reciting all those words and all those pages along with those leading the service. To do so leaves no room for the kind of work that Rabbi Hartman advises we simply begin as those words bring our failings and weaknesses to the surface.

When something appears on the page that resonates with an aspect of your self that you want to work on, take time to sit with it and consider how you will try to do things differently - don't worry if the congregation moves a few pages ahead; you'll join in again with the rhythm when you are ready and, in so doing, you'll help to provide the pulse of the prayer that hums in the background as someone else in the room takes some time out for introspection and private prayer.

For me, a walk is an important part of the day too. It can be quiet, alone time, to continue to look more deeply at some aspect of teshuvah that has risen to the surface for you this year, or a time to meditate, or sit under a tree and make space for a deeper awareness of the Godliness that is all around us, inspiring us and encouraging us to reach toward our highest self. But it can also be walking or sitting with a partner or a friend. Some of my most meaningful Yom Kippur experiences have involved reflecting out loud on the things that I am contemplating, with a non-judgmental witness who listens, and then asks me to bear witness to their struggles.

For others, some time on Yom Kippur is for being spurred to commit or recommit to important work in this world. At B'nai Israel, our early afternoon discussion provides a forum for some of these themes - this year, on our engagement with Israel.

We also have a new Afternoon service that will provide space and meditative opportunities, when we stop with the words on the page, and invite congregants to take themselves to that deeper place of honest and authentic introspection.

But the question still remains... what will come next? Donniel Hartman's invitation - to choose one thing that you wish to work on and commit yourself to it over the coming weeks and months - awaits your RSVP. But, like the rhythm and hum of the prayers on Yom Kippur that provide the vessel of a potentially meaningful day but do not provide the meaning in and of themselves, we need to create vessels for ourselves to make our commitments into realities. It might be to commit to a nightly written reflection, or a morning prayer to begin each day with a kavannah - an intention, or a calendar where one marks off days or tasks that we have set ourselves to help us fulfill our commitment; perhaps 30 minutes of meditation, examining our trait and creating greater mindfulness as we go about our daily activities. Choose one thing, and choose a vessel that can help provide the structure you need to make this Yom Kippur a meaningful one; meaningful because it was about so much more than just surviving the day - it was the day that the turning began, for this is the true essence of teshuvah.

Speaking out & standing up for Religious Freedom

2010-09-13T21:19:00.000-04:00

In the days leading up to Rosh Hashanah, and over this past weekend, amidst the noisy and negative voices whipping up fear, anger and hate in our country, there have been many beacons of light emerging from voices of faith, speaking up for Religious Freedom, pluralism, tolerance, and compassion.

Here are just a couple of examples that have been brought to my attention. First, organized by 5th year rabbinical student at Hebrew Union College, New York (and son of our Senior Rabbi, Jim Prosnit), Jonathan Prosnit organized a group of some 40 students and faculty, including the Dean, Rabbi Shirley Idelson, to peacefully march from Hebrew Union College to Park 51 last week, in support of the proposed Muslim community center. He writes a report of the event, originally posted at the blog of the Religious Action Center:

Over 40 Hebrew Union College (HUC) students, faculty and administrators turned out in a rally to support Park 51 (aka-"The Ground Zero Mosque") on Tuesday. Despite vicious New York City heat, the HUC representatives walked the 1.5 miles from Hebrew Union College to the future site of Park 51 in Lower Manhattan. As the closest seminary (of any religion) to Ground Zero and to Park 51, the HUC participants gathered in support of religious freedom, of interfaith dialogue and to welcome Park 51 into the unique religious landscape that is New York City.

Carrying signs, wearing tallitot and blowing shofarot, the group sang throughout the entire walk. Fittingly the march took place during the holy months of Ramadan and Elul. Elul, in the Jewish calendar, is the month prior to the Jewish High Holidays where Jews prepare themselves for the days of awe. Prayer during Elul is marked by the call of the shofar and the rally began and culminated in the blast of the shofar. The shofar, for those who marched, served as a call to action, a call of awakening and a call to justice.

For the HUC representatives the walk was an opportunity to affirm America as a beacon of Freedom of Religion. Upon reaching Park 51 the group was invited into the building and warmly greeted in the temporary prayer room at Park 51. Employees of Park 51 greeted each of the HUC participants individually and said that rally and the presence of so many, helped lift the spirits of those associated with Park 51.

Seminarians echoed the words of the great social justice warrior Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel and said that by rallying in support of tolerance and peace they were "praying with our feet."

Secondly, the Religious Action Center - the social action, Washington-based arm of the Union for Reform Judaism, participated in several interfaith statements on the central American value of Religious Freedom, and a press conference with the Islamic Society of North America. Links to the conference, televised on CSPAN, and the statements that were released, are found below:

the RAC helped convene an important summit of American religious leaders to focus on religious freedom and the recent wave of Islamophobic activity in the United States. The joint statement we issued is available here, and you can watch a video of the press conference here. Also, the New York Times had a good report on the meeting, which you can read here.
We also participated in a meeting with Attorney General Eric Holder on this issue yesterday. You can read the joint press release about that meeting here.
Finally, there was a Liberty March held in NYC on September 12th, bringing together people of all faiths, walking peacefully in the name of Religious Freedom. Erica Bower, who graduated High School last Summer and is now a Freshman at Columbia University, participated in the March, and sent me a brief description of the event. Erica participated in two semesters of our Interfaith Interaction class with Merkaz, our Jewish High School Program, while she was in High School, engaging in dialog with Christian and Muslim teens.

I was able to attend the Liberty Walk yesterday. It started off at 3 pm with a series of speakers in a Church nearby the world trade center and location of Park51. The speakers consisted of a variety of religious leaders (Jewish, Muslim and Christian) and the husband of a 9/11 victim who all spoke passionately about the importance of religious freedom across cultures and the symbolic necessity of this Muslim cultural center near the site of the twin towers. Following the speeches, we all gathered outside the church and marched along the streets singing songs such as Michael, Row Your Boat Ashore, This land is your land, and God Bless America at the termination of the route. It was an incredibly powerful experience to see so many people (I believe the final count was about 1000) of all ages, religions, and motives walking together for a unifying cause, particularly because it was raining fairly hard. I was inspired to go because this is an issue I feel passionate about and I am interested in getting involved with the Columbia Democrats who were sending a delegation down. Overall, it was a pretty inspiring experience and I really hope this issue starts recieving positive media attention and can be resolved.

Elul Reflections 10: Immersing ourselves in Ritual

2010-09-07T09:30:00.000-04:00

Last week I took a group of 5 women to our local mikvah for a pre-High Holyday preparation ritual. We ranged in age from about 40 to mid-80s; some had experienced the ritual of mikvah before and some had never been. It was a meaningful and powerful ritual for us all - reading prayers that helped to set our intentions and then, guided by a beautiful mikvah ritual created for Mayyim Hayyim - the community mikvah and educational center in Boston, we took it in turns to immerse while the rest of the group provided witness by gently chanting in the background, Peleg Elohim, Mayim, Mayim, Mayim Chayyim (Streams of God, full of water. Waters of Life)[music by Rabbi Shefa Gold; words from Ps. 65:10].

This coming week we will have the opportunity to engage in another water-based High Holyday ritual - tashlich; casting bread into running waters in a nearby brook or river to symbolically indicate our intention and desire to cast away the sins of the past year - the ways we failed to recognize our highest path and our highest self, whether by intention as we were driven by other motives, or by omission through lack of presence to a moment or to a person who needed more from us.

Rosh Hashanah is filled with opportunities for ritual moments drawn from the tradition - the dipping of apple into honey, hearing the shofar, deciding what to wear, making a special meal to be shared. Deciding what to wear? For some, my including a ritual such as this on the list brings to mind negative associations with past experiences in synagogues where community members seemed more focused on what each other was wearing, or obsessing about 'getting something new' than they did on why we were all there in the first place. But I've come to understand that ritual, when done mindfully and with intention, can be a powerful and meaningful thing. It can also be empty and superficial if one is simply going through the motions. Each year, I make a conscious decision about which suit I will wear on Rosh Hashanah - I feel no obligation to go out and get something 'new', but there might be something about the color, or something about my associations with the suit - when I got it, who got it, a previous occasion when I wore it that I now to bring to mind and I wish to connect with walking into the synagogue on Erev Rosh Hashanah, bringing with me a set of intentions or associations.

Rituals often attract rituals. At B'nai Israel it is the custom for members of our Youth Group - BIFTY - to compile and lead our tashlich ritual on the second day of Rosh Hashanah. It is meaningful for our community to be led in this way by our youth. There is nothing innate about this having been given to them that is connected to the ritual of tashlich, but it has become important to us, and I look forward each year to receiving the new design and any additions from our new Religious and Cultural VPs - my 'new' taste, each year, of who they are and how they respond to the first ritual task requested of them. I also believe that our community engages with the ritual itself with greater attention and intention when our teens lead the way - there is a mutual inspiration that we feel.

Dipping apple in honey symbolizes our hopes for a sweet new year. That is about the future. But for me, dipping apple in honey is so much more about the past because my associations with this ritual - what really makes it powerful for me - are years of memories of dipping apple in honey with my family, and those ritual moments we created together in the home - the first thing we would do when we got back from synagogue. It made Rosh Hashanah an 'in here' experience for us and not just an 'out there' experience; just through the simple act of standing together as a household for 10 mins to say the blessings over wine, challah and apple and honey. This year, the chanting/meditation group that I co-lead, Chantsformations, is gathering on the Sunday between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur and our theme is 'savoring the sweetness' - intentionally bringing to awareness not just the connections with the past or the hopes for the future, but recognizing that the ritual of dipping apple into honey can also be a meditation on the present - to truly savor the sweetness of just being here now.

In so many ways, our rituals can take on meaning far beyond the simple, symbolic associations that we often hear as the 'official' reasons why they exist. I am sure that you have rituals for this season, or associations and stories that accompany specific rituals that are most meaningful to you that often come to mind at the moment that you engage in the activity. Please click on the comments link and share them with us here.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Elul Reflections 9: A Muslim sister reflects on Ramadan

2010-09-04T19:00:00.005-04:00

This year, the month of Elul has largely coincided with the holy month of Ramadan. There are some specific rituals associated with Ramadan - a daily fast from sunrise to sundown for the month, the giving of charity, and a heightened consciousness around not engaging in gossip or malicious speech. While there are differences, these two months share much in common - a time of spiritual purification and preparation, a time of atonement, and a time of re-centering ourselves in relationship to God and to others as we strive to be the best human being we can be.

Over the past four years, through the work of an interfaith group, The Tent of Abraham, our congregation has built bridges and created new friendships with Christians and Muslims in our local community. We organize 2-3 dialog programs each year, and a parallel program brings our teenagers together each Spring.

Last week, our Rosh Hodesh group - the women's spirituality group of B'nai Israel - was invited to Iftar - break-fast - with the women of the Bridgeport Islamic Community Center. It was a wonderful evening of sharing and meeting and our hosts laid on a feast. We are looking forward to reciprocating when we host an evening for Christian, Muslim and Jewish women during our Festival of Sukkot later this month.

This evening, our guest post is by Olga Shibtini. Olga is the Vice-President of the Bridgeport Islamic Community Center, is involved with the Tent of Abraham and helps to organize our teen interfaith program. She shares with us the meaning of Ramadan for her. We wish all of our Muslim friends a Blessed Ramadan. May our spiritual practice inspire us to reach ever higher and reach out as we continue to build the bridges between us.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

My feelings for Ramadan have changed tremendously over the years since I first became a Muslim 16 years ago. Initially, I didn't like it because I didn't undersand the true meaning and spirituality of the month. I used to just look at it as another month faced with not eating or drinking anything from sunrise to sunset and actually being depressed over it.

However, as the years passed and I began to really understand the true meaning of what it really means to fast, I started loving the month of Ramadan and even feeling sad when it came to an end.

Many times we are so busy that we cannot find the time to really connect with God. Maybe we go through the motions of prayers and of everything else during the day, but we really don't feel connected because we are so busy working, eating, etc. However, during Ramadan everything changes. We tend to slow down a bit and find more time to be with family and friends breaking fast together and praying at the mosque. I remember the first time I really understood what it meant to sacrifice something for the sake of God, and how I felt ashamed of myself for initially seeing this month as an obstacle rather than as a reward that God gives us to cleanse our souls and be forgiven for our sins.
And, of course, the realization that this is the month when God opens the heavens and closes the gates of hell made me feel like a fool for not appreciating the chance that God gives me to be forgiven by allowing me to live another year and make it to another month of Ramadan. How blessed am I that God grants me this reward.

I never really quite understood the meaning of our supplications being answered more during the month of Ramadan until my husband became very ill in 1998. It was during the last 10 days of Ramadan and he was given a 50/50 chance to survive. He was hospitalized in the intensive care unit at St. Vincent's Medical Center. I recall staying up most of the night asking God to save my husband so that my then 7 year old son would not be left without his father, and I remember feeling really connected with God and his giving me a sense of calm and peace during those nights when I didn't know whether my husband would live or die. I still remember when I returned to the hospital the second day and having the doctors tell me that my husband was going to make it. I just knew God had really heard me.
This is my most cherished memory of Ramadan.
Olga

Elul Reflections 8: The Islamic Cultural Center in My Jewish New Year's Prayers

2010-09-01T21:40:00.000-04:00

This is a re-posting from 'Torah Around the World' - a weekly Torah commentary produced by the World Union for Progressive Judaism in their e-newsletter. To subscribe to the e-newsletter, simply send an email with no subject and no message to wupjnews-subscribe@wupj.org.il

"The Islamic Cultural Center in My Jewish New Year’s Prayers" - on Akedat Yitzchak (Genesis 22:1-24)

By Rabbi Mark L. Winer, Senior Rabbi, West London Synagogue

At the season of the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hoshana, a time for taking stock has been established. God commands us as Jews to confront the world in which we are God’s partners, and do something about making it a better place. That is our mission, God’s purpose for Jewish existence,L’taken Olam B’Malchut Shaddai, “to repair the world under the rule of God.”

In this season of self-reflection and prayer, my heart reaches out to You, O Lord. We need Your help. This year when the Book of Life is opened and You judge us, we seek a pathway to reconciliation with You and our community. We wish to act so that we may both honor our dead and preserve our values. Please Lord Hear Our Prayers.

Give courage and strength to those who have lost loved ones.
Comfort them in their grief and suffering.
Give understanding and compassion to those of all traditions
who would build centers for cultural understanding.
Guard us from confusing those who would help us
with those who would harm us.
Bring us together in goodwill and peace, and not in pain, fear, and outrage.
Grant us the vision to build bridges between our differences so that
we may honor our dead, preserve our values,
and create a more secure community.
May the bonds forged in our endeavors to bring peace and understanding to
Your world be an ever-lasting testament to Your grace and love.

Do not allow anyone to destroy what we would build with Your help and guidance.
Silence those who would exploit this conflict, pander to our weaknesses,
or use our pain to gain power for themselves.

When the Book of Life is closed at the conclusion of Yom Kippur,
may we know that we have done everything that we can to bring about
peace and reconciliation with You and our community.

Blessed are You O Lord our God who grants the greatest gift of peace to our hearts and our world.

Though these words have broad implications, they are, of course, about the building of an Islamic Cultural Center near ground zero. I consider the Islamic Cultural Center as one who has spent my life’s work in Tikkun Olam – repairing the world through interfaith dialogue and action, trying to reconcile the members of God’s dysfunctional family of humanity. For thirteen years I have lived and worked in the heart of Arab London. Together with my Muslim neighbors and imam colleagues I have on a daily basis studied the ancient wisdom of the Talmudic dictum “one who makes peace within his neighborhood is viewed as having made peace within the entire world.” I have read about the development of the controversy in New York, and I have been deeply saddened by it. This is especially true because we share so much with Islam as this time of year so vividly reminds me.

The Torah portion Jews read in synagogue on Rosh Hoshana morning,Akedat Yitzchak, “the binding of Isaac,” has a parallel in the Koran. In the Jewish version, God tests Abraham’s faith by commanding his willingness to sacrifice his only son by Sarah, Isaac. In the Koran, God commands Ibrahim to sacrifice his only son by Hagar, Ismail. In its essence, both versions are the story of Abraham’s near sacrifice of his son. For both religions, this story plays a central role in its traditions. For Judaism, the story is told every Rosh Hoshana. For Islam, the story is central to the celebration of Id Al-Adha that comes at the end of the Hajj on the 10th day of the last month of the Islamic calendar. In both cases, the sons of Abraham live, and there are indications in the Hebrew Bible that they come together afterwards. The lesson for all of us is that human sacrifice is forbidden.

We seem to need this reminder. We seem too ready to hate, and too slow to listen. We take pride in our intolerance, and despise anyone who disagrees with us. I fear more the kind of world we would create with such responses than I fear the world that terrorists would impose upon us, because it is easier to fight terrorism than the worst in ourselves.

Our ancestors fought for the freedoms with which we have been blessed. The people who died on 9/11 died for the way of life these freedoms gave us. These freedoms are the basis of our strength and have encouraged our great diversity. They have made us among the most inventive people in the world, and have given us a depth and breadth that is a source of ever-renewable wealth. In our pain, please do not allow us to compromise these freedoms, and thereby weaken ourselves. With hope, I will end my New Year’s prayers by tapping into the very diversity of our resources.

I pray that we allow the values of equality, charity, and hospitality
which are so much a part of the Muslim culture and tradition be extended to all.

I pray that we allow the respect for diverse understandings
that is so much a part of Jewish tradition be extended to all.

I pray that the love and grace that is integral to
Christian tradition be extended to all.

And finally I pray that all of our religious traditions teach us to seek
understanding because only a world filled
with understanding can be filled with Your presence, O Lord,
and Your great gift of peace.
We need Your Help; we cannot do it alone. Please God Hear Our Prayers.

_______________________________________________________________
Mark L Winer is the President of FAITH: the Foundation to Advance Interfaith Trust and Harmony and has been the Senior Rabbi of the West London Synagogue of British Jews since 1998