Reflections on the J Street Conference, Part II.

Three sessions in particular focused on the actual process of dialogue, offering thoughtful presentations on how to ensure that we have open, engaging and inclusive dialogue about Israel in our home communities. 

One, which I missed, by which was recorded in one of Rachel Barenblat’s blog reports, here, reflected on how delicately many rabbis feel they need to tread when speaking about Israel in their congregations and communities, and offered models for creating safe space and open dialogue that can help everyone feel more connected to Israel by not shutting down and shutting out voices that we may disagree with. The session began with Rabbi David Cooper who, among other things, talked about Project Reconnections. He referred to a metaphor that he uses often when talking about the work of this intra-communal dialogue project – that many Jews, when talking about Israel, tend to fall into one of two camps – either ‘prophets’ or ‘guardians’. Prophets are those who ask "if we are only for ourselves, who are we," and guardians ask "if we are not for ourselves, who will be?" (Both of these questions come from Hillel.) "If we rabbis are going to take a role in trying to harmonize the prophetic side of our congregations and the guardian side of our congregations, it's going to be up to us to do it, and I recommend that we do that first, before we begin to share our own individual positions about Israel/Palestine." Once we've created space for dialogue, then we also have a space to speak, as long as we do so with humility. And if we rabbis will not promote a culture of dialogue, who will; "and of course, if not now, then when?" 

I find this metaphor very useful, because I am especially interested in ways of thinking about having dialogue in our communities, and creating safe, open dialogue both within Jewish communities, and with other faith communities. It is important that we not be afraid to hold different opinions, and to share multiple perspectives gathered from many places. For most of us who are not experts, how else do we remain truly informed so that we can make informed choices about what kinds of initiatives to support? Aside from my own personal leanings on the issue of peace in the Middle East, I went to J Street to listen and learn. And, from that experience I can share and teach, and wish to help create safe space for open, respectful community dialogue about Israel and the Peace process. 

To that end, Rachel Barenblat’s report on a session entitled ‘How do we stop talking to ourselves’, which I attended,  was one that I found particularly helpful for articulating what we can be doing to broaden the conversation within our communities and across different communities. Three young women, working in different kinds of dialogue projects, both in the USA and facilitating dialogue between Israelis and Palestinians, offered hope through the sharing of their grassroots experiences. Such projects may not offer the political strategies and motivations that are needed to advance the peace process at an international level, but every grassroots project that helps to shape and shift the culture and perceptions held of ‘the other’ by each side of the conflict can only benefit the larger goals. 

Another excellent review of a session where the emphasis was on building relations with others so that we can have genuinely open conversation across different communities that is respectful and safe focused on dialogue between Jews, Christians, and Muslims. I attended this excellent session, which is also recorded in detail by Rachel Barenblat here.  This session focused on interfaith dialogue in the USA that does not shy away from discussing the Middle East, but does so in a way that builds bridges and understanding between people. 

Time and time again, the message was clear. We must build meaningful connections and relationships with those who see the world differently to us. In so doing, we see each other as fully human, and begin to genuinely care about each other. This creates a safe space into which we can express our beliefs, hopes, fears, and ideas, and remain open to listening to others. We may not convince or persuade others to adopt our positions, but perhaps the path to peace, beyond the political level, between two peoples who one day wish to live side by side, can only come when we are open to hearing each other’s truths.

Reflections on the J Street Conference, Part I.

Today, somewhat of a detour from the usual content of this blog, to offer a summary of perspectives and thoughts on the J Street Conference in Washington D.C.  J Street, in the lead-up to this conference, was the subject of intense commentary and debate, from those who were skeptical and critical of how supportive of Israel it truly was (the question we so often ask… ‘Is it good for the Jews?’) to those who were excited and energized by the opportunity to come together to hear a multiplicity of voices of those who care deeply about Israel and also care deeply about peace, human rights, and justice.

I wrote about J Street, and my decision to attend the conference, in my congregational bulletin article this month, which you can read here:

This is a longer than usual posting. I want to emphasize several things about the nature of my report, and my focus and interest in J Street. As I had stated in my bulletin article, I had gone to listen and learn. I want to try and offer a summary of what I heard, considered, and the questions that remain. While I do have my own leanings on the issue of how to proceed in the Peace Process, I offer thoughts and information, in keeping with my role as a Rabbi – a teacher, but I wish to model open discussion and dialogue, and not present a bully pulpit for a particular point of view.

I have very vivid memories of my first year as an undergraduate at University College London, attending a Jewish student meeting about Israel where a student who tried to express a critique of a particular policy of Israel was shouted down by others who challenged the young man’s Jewish and Zionist credentials. It was made quite clear that thoughtful consideration and debate about Israel was not welcome there, and I was so thoroughly put off that I never attend a Jewish student society event again in the 7 years I attended UCL (3 years of undergrad, and 4 years for my PhD). And so, when the J Street conference opened by inviting us to turn to those at our table (as it did on several other occasions during the conference) and encouraged us to share our backgrounds, our questions, our concerns, I felt that I had come to a place where real dialogue, openness, and a willingness to hear perspectives different to our own were truly welcomed. Not that all perspectives would ultimately be represented by J Street, the organization, but that the conference itself was much more than just a platform for advocating a very specific agenda; at this first gathering, there was an attempt to set a new tone and foster and encourage a culture of dialogue that could be taken back to our home communities.

The fact that, to a large extent, this culture of dialogue was modeled at the conference is so important especially, it became clear, for engaging young adults and college students on Israel. We heard that too many of them today feel as I did nearly 20 years ago when I attended that Jewish Student Society meeting – feeling hopeless, unsure of their support for some of Israel’s actions, ambivalent about their own personal relationship with Israel, and disenfranchised from the possibility of meaningful dialogue. While some have debated whether young American Jews have a ‘right’ to feel as they do (see Daniel Gordis’ recent posting here, for example), I am simply concerned that they feel this way and want to do whatever we can to bring the next generation back into the conversation. For that reason alone I applaud J Street and would, without question, attend again for an opportunity to continue to learn and think deeply about the strategic, political and moral choices facing Israel and the Palestinian people as we continue to strive to make peace.

There were a number of sessions that explicitly focused on the work of developing a culture of dialogue and openness to debate with regard to Israel and the peace process, which I’ll say more about in a second posting. But first, having spent several hours reading many blogs, online magazine and news articles, and followed many tweets on the conference, I offer my own, selective, distilling of some good places to watch video, read detailed reports on specific sessions, and dip into a broad array of articles that I have tried, in keeping with my belief in broad and open dialogue, to represent voices from the left, center and right.

You can watch full recordings of some of the most important sessions here:

Both major English-language versions of Israeli newspapers offer thoughtful overviews of the conference, here at Ha’aretz, and here at The Jerusalem Post. In particular, I read the Jerusalem Post piece as accurately portraying J Street as a centrist organization that is Pro-Israel and Pro-Peace, in favor of a two-state solution, but rightly also raises the issue of the presence of some who were further to the left at the conference, and recognizes the challenges facing J Street in trying to be too much of a broad tent while remaining effective in Washington.

For a truly wonderful service to the community, I thank Rachel Barenblat, who blogs as The Velveteen Rabbi, who wrote very complete reports on many of the sessions, without adding any additional commentary – outside of the vimeo videos posted by Isaac Luria, at the link already mentioned, her reports are the best way to hear almost first-hand what was said in these sessions.

There were many different voices present among the participants at J Street, including Muslim and Palestinian voices, primarily there because they were hopeful that they had found a partner for peace. As an illustration of how our willingness to listen to the voices that are never usually a part of a ‘Pro-Israel’ dialogue, I was particularly touched by this report from a Jewish participant’s encounter with a young Palestinian man from Gaza in the hallway during a break:

And, in the interest of balance so that we can hear the voice of concern for J Street’s position, this article from Ynet news makes some powerful arguments:

The Jewish Week (NYC Jewish newspaper) also provide an excellent summary of the spread of perspectives in view at the conference, the great successes of the conference, and the questions and challenges ahead.

Of particular interest to Reform Jews will be the dialogue plenary between Jeremy Ben-Ami, Director of J Street, and Rabbi Eric Yoffie, President of the Union for Reform Judaism. On all of the substantive and strategic questions, the two seemed largely in agreement. They differed on some details – such as the appropriate response to the Goldstone Report on Operation Cast Lead in Gaza. These differences are not irrelevant but, in terms of the larger, strategic goal of a two-state solution, positions on the settlements, and the status of Jerusalem, there was substantial agreement.

Full text of Rabbi Eric Yoffie’s address at J Street: 

Tablet magazine’s report on Eric Yoffie’s speech at J Street:

Finally, one of the main topics of debate in the plenary sessions was dialogue about what it meant to be ‘Pro-Israel and Pro-Peace’. I would agree with a number of commentators who felt that, among the participants, some who were present might have been ‘Pro Peace’ but may well have fallen outside of any parameter that we could really call ‘Pro Israel’. I believe that they were in the minority, and I believe that the excellent speakers on the panels and the representatives of J Street themselves did a very good job of explaining why the particular policies that they support truly are both ‘Pro Peace’ and ‘Pro Israel’ – that these things can co-exist.

What I heard presented by several analysts, Israelis who have been engaged in high level diplomacy, and members of the Knesset, was that there are only a limited number of options to consider. The best solution for both Israel and the Palestinian people is a two-state solution, with two peoples living in peace side by side. The ynet article referenced above gives good voice to the security concerns that Israel has about trusting that path forward. I understand those fears, and I do share them. However, what many of the expert voices expressed at the J Street conference was a clear understanding of the alternative. While some might think it is possible to maintain the status quo indefinitely, with military power, borders and fences, continuing to expand settlements in the absence of a final proposal for peaceful resolution, the reality is that this approach is unsustainable. Many at the conference expressed its undesirability from a human rights perspective and, while I don’t debate the validity of many of their concerns, I am persuaded even by those who offer only a pragmatic analysis of the situation.

There is deep concern that, in the absence of renewed progress toward a two state solution, that there will be growing Arab and international support for a one-state solution; simply to allow the situation to continue until it becomes clear that there is an Arab, Palestinian majority when Gaza, Israel, and the West Bank are considered together. At that point, if Israel is to remain a democratic state that gives equality to all, it cannot sustain itself as a Jewish state. The alternative is for a minority to rule over a majority, and Israel risks losing the support of the international community in a way that could seriously jeopardize its viability were that to be the case.

This is why we must not delay in continuing to push both sides to engage in an ongoing peace process. Shlomo Ben Ami, Former Israeli Minister of Foreign Affairs and Public Security, in a panel that looked at the need for a regional approach to making peace, believes that the political infrastructure does not exist in either Israel or the Palestinian territories for these two parties to do this alone; ongoing engagement from the US government and Arab nations who have offered the normalization of relations with Israel as an important end-goal too, is absolutely necessary. I believe he is right, and this is why J Street’s contribution to seeking peace in the Middle East has the potential to be of such ongoing importance.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

3 Cheshvan. Entering the world of the spirit through Jewish mindfulness

As we move forward from Tishrei, filled with Jewish holidays bringing renewal and beginning again, into the month of Cheshvan, empty of Jewish festival dates, I've been working on a number of new activities that point to the potential of emptiness and simplicity as the doorway into deeper spiritual awareness in our everyday lives.  I've been teaching mindfulness meditation to a group of teenagers at our cross-communal Jewish high school program, Merkaz, and I've also been bringing a brief introduction to meditative practices to our 5th and 6th graders before we pray our abridged evening service together at Religious School.  Next month I am launching a new meditation and chanting hour at a local holistic healing center, the Soma Center for Well-Being, with a member of our congregation, Andrea Rudolph.  And this Shabbat, a group of 21 women from the congregation are joining me for our 2nd one day retreat, this year on the theme of Interactive meditation - how mindfulness practices impact on our everyday activities and interactions with others and the world around us.

There are many venues for practicing meditation, and they do not necessarily have to sit within a religious or spiritual framework.  However, different frameworks emphasize different dimensions of the practice and, for me, the spiritual connection is an extremely important and powerful aspect of mindfulness.

Many people are drawn to mindfulness meditation as a relaxation technique - a way of creating space and silence, to just breathe, and take a break from the stress and hectic nature of the rest of their lives.  There is no question that meditation practice can be deeply relaxing.  In fact, it is not unusual for some people to fall asleep during a meditation practice, so calming can it be to tune in to the rhythm of your breathing, or chant a mantra over and over.  But, from a spiritual perspective, meditation is not about tuning out and falling asleep... its about waking up!  Mindfulness is about becoming aware of this moment.  You might think that you are always present in this moment... where else would you be?  But when we sit quietly and do something as 'simple' as just noticing our breath coming in and going out, most of us soon notice how hard it is to stay focused on that one thing.  And when we begin to notice what our mind is doing, we notice that we spend a great deal of time in the past or in the future, but very little time actually being fully present to right now.

I'd like to share some insights and practices from a Jewish approach to mindfulness meditation in coming posts because, in addition to the awareness and growth that can come to each of us as individuals when we engage in mindfulness meditation practices, there are mindfulness practices and teachings that come from our Jewish wisdom traditions that show us that it is through our presence - to this moment, to our deepest selves, to our planet, and to each other - that we can access an experience of The Presence.  Bringing this awareness into our lives not only helps us to walk through our lives being more awake, but can infuse the rituals and practices that have been handed down to us through Jewish communities and families with a power that can reawaken our passion for meaningful engagement with Jewish living and celebration.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

21 Tishrei. Slow me, slow me down

Earlier this week, Arianna Huffington announced a 'HuffPost Book Club' at http://www.huffingtonpost.com/.  She explains that she wants to share interesting,thought-provoking books, and not necessarily just selected from the latest releases.  Her first selection is called 'In Praise of Slowness: Challenging the Cult of Speed', by Carl Honore, which was published in 2004.  Arianna's review certainly tempts me to take a look, and as I glance at the chapter headings, available, along with substantial excerpts, here, it is apparent that Jewish wisdom and practice has the perfect antidote to the 'cult of speed'... Shabbat.  Honore reflects on how we eat, where we live, how we care for our bodies, how we make love, how we work and rest, and how we raise our children.

Another wonderful writer that gives us a gorgeous Jewish take 'in praise of slowness', currently putting the finishing touches to a new album, is Jewish singer and composer, Beth Schafer.  Check out these words from an earlier album, 'The Quest and the Question'

Slow Me Down
© 2005
Words & Music by Beth A. Schafer
Hebrew text: Genesis

Friday afternoon the day comes skidding to a halt on my tired face
Arms are full, tank is low, did I place or even show in this week’s race?
Then the sun warms up my arm hanging out my window.
Another mile and a deep breath brings me ‘round.

Chorus
Slow me, slow me down
Slow me, slow me down
I need rejuvenation to find the heartbeat of creation

Where my soul’s unbound
Got to slow me down

I’ve got piles on my piles and lists of lists unfinished so what else is new
Colors whizzing by me too much busy too much, “Why me?” in this crazy zoo
Then the strains of old songs written long ago tug my ear again
Another couple hours and I’ll be wrapped in those sweets sounds

Chorus

Ki sheshet yamim asa Adonai et hashamayim v’et ha’aretz
U’vayom hashvi’i Shabbat vayinafash, Shabbat vayinafash
Trans. For in six days God created the heavens and the earth and on the seventh day,

God rested.

This weekend we celebrate Simchat Torah.  Two power ends of our holy text, both with lessons that inspire us to reflect on the speed of life, and the importance of slowing things down enough so that we can live in the moment, appreciate our blessings, and nurture authentic connections - with our family, friends, community, and with God.  At the end of D'varim, Moses dies.  When we reflect on the life of a loved one, now deceased, we are flooded with the memories of presence; with the experience of being.  We realize the preciousness of that existence, and perhaps it reminds us to slow down and try to be more present to life, and to each other, in each moment that we have.

And then we return to B'reishit - Beginning.  For in six days God created the heavens and the earth and on the seventh day, God rested.  So important is Shabbat that, in among all of the amazing creations of the material world, we are given a holy clue as to what we must do to truly live in and appreciate this world.

Choose one way this Shabbat to consciously slow down, take a breath, notice, bless, appreciate, connect.

Shabbat Shalom, and Chag Sameach,

Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

14 Tishrei. High Holyday Sermons available online

If you would like to read, review, or forward this year's High Holyday sermons, delivered by Rabbi Jim Prosnit and Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz at Congregation B'nai Israel, they are now available here.  This year, a wide range of themes were covered, from civility in society, to end of life decisions, to finding sources of spiritual consolation in our tradition in these challenging times, to reflections on why faith, and communities of faith, matter.

Our Ba'al Tekiah, Stuart Edelstein, also delivered a wonderful sermon on the Shofar, and the spiritual signficance of the Shofar notes, reflecting on his twentieth year as Ba'al Tekiah at Congregation B'nai Israel.  You can read his text here.

We certainly welcome your comments and reflections, and invite you to share these High Holyday messages with others who you think may be nourished by them.

14 Tishrei. Harvesting life and nourishing our prayers

May all the foliage of the field, 

All grasses, trees and plants, 

Awaken at my coming, this I pray, 

And send their life into my words of prayer 

So that my speech, my thoughts and my prayers will be made whole, 

And through the spirit of all growing things. 

And we know that everything is one, 

Because we know that everything is You. 

(excerpt from a prayer by Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav; lyric interpretation by Debbie Friedman). 

Sukkot, like so many of our Jewish Festivals, is multilayered with significance and meaning. I sometimes love the ‘archeological’ exploration of our Holy days. Like uncovering the strata of time, seeing multiple generations of civilization down through the centuries as we dig at a historical site, so we find historical layers to the Festivals. Often, as with Sukkot, agricultural roots, then the historical narrative of association with the Exodus from Egypt, then the stories of the Temple rituals associated with the holiday in Jerusalem, then the metaphorical layers added to the symbolism of shaking the lulav and the etrog, and then some of the contemporary connections spurring us to social action, such as the focus on homelessness.

All of these layers are drenched with potential for us to draw close to the ritual forms and practices of the holiday, and find something that resonates deeply within us. This year, I am focusing on the historical origins of the holiday, the earliest layers – the celebration of the end of the Fall harvest, and the focus on rain for the land. For Jewish farmers, this layer of meaning is directly experienced and deeply lived. But most of us are not Jewish farmers. How do we tap into a deeply felt experience of land, produce, and water?

I would like to suggest a practice that could just as easily be a personal, silent contemplative meditation, or a group sharing and discussion. Some of us buy our vegetables from a CSA; some from local farm stands; some have grown our own fruits and vegetables this year in our gardens; some have or will take our families to go apple or pumpkin picking. Thinking about those experiences more deeply, we can bring to mind or verbalize our response to the miracle of growing things, the colors, the textures, the tastes, the feeling of harvesting the fruits of our labors, or having met the people who grew and harvested our food. We can share stories about having been traveling somewhere and seeing a field full of something growing – perhaps something we hadn’t seen before (my first experience of seeing date palms in Israel, and orange groves in Florida, with the incredible smell that fills the air, will remain with me forever). Or perhaps our attention is turned to the miracle of water – seeing a particularly gorgeous or spectacular body of water, seeing the miracle of drip irrigation systems literally turning parts of the desert green in Israel, the incredible innovation of the aqueduct and the transportation of water, the time when we were caught in the fiercest of torrential downpours, being made aware of the incredible power of water…

Taking time to think about these experiences – the ones that we have lived, the things that are part of the flow of our everyday lives, and then picking up the lulav and etrog to say the blessings, or then reciting the blessing for sitting in the sukkah – we, like the words of Rabbi Nachman’s prayer, send the life of the earth into our words of prayer. No longer the perfunctory performance of ancient rituals and words, they now become ripe with the experiences of our own lives. We energize our daily experiences with spiritual consciousness, and we energize the rituals of Jewish living by attaching them to meaningful life experience.

Chag Sameach
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

7 Tishrei. Have a little faith - returning again to the writing of Mitch Albom

Return again, return again, return to the land of your soul

Return to who you are, return to what you are, return to where you are,

born and reborn again.

(Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach)

Mitch Albom speaks to me.  Not directly - we've never met.  But he speaks to me, and to many, many others too.  He is a talented writer, and I have found his books to make some of the deepest experiences and questions about the meaning of life accessible in a way that helps me figure out what I want to say and how I want to say it.  This year, my Yom Kippur sermon  (which will be posted at our congregational website next week) is framed by excerpts from his new book, 'Have a Little Faith.'  The book is actually on shelves on Tuesday, the day after Yom Kippur, but I received a pre-publication copy and, once again, Mitch Albom has written a book that deeply to speaks to me and, I'm sure, will speak to millions of others.

Nine years ago I read 'Tuesdays with Morrie.'  As I looked through my High Holyday files, I found a creative service that I had compiled for Shabbat Shuvah, the Shabbat between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, weaving excerpts from that book with the prayers of the morning liturgy.  One excerpt jumped off the page again; the words of Morrie Schwartz, z'l, as a meditation on the 10 days of return:

"The truth is, Mitch," he said, "once you learn how to die, you learn how live." ... Did you think much about death before you got sick, I asked.  "No."  Morrie smiled.  "I was like everyone else.  I once told a friend of mine, in a moment of exuberance, 'I'm gonna be the healthiest old man you ever met!'" ... Like I said, no one really believes they're going to die."  But everyone knows someone who has died, I said.  Why is it so hard to think about dying?  "Because," Morrie continued, "most of us all walk around as if we're sleepwalking.  We really don't experience the world fully, because we're half-asleep, doing things we automatically think we have to do."

On Rosh Hashanah, the shofar sounded: Wake up, you sleepers!  Are we living each day, awake to the realization that the blessing of this moment might not be tomorrow?  Are we driving along the highway of our lives in automatic, or are we noticing the scenery, the people we encounter along the way, taking time to explore the side streets and the neighborhoods as we journey on?  Have we returned, and tuned in to our innermost essence, who we really are?

"Be compassionate," Morrie whispered.  "And take responsibility for each other.  If we only learned those lessons, this world would be so much better a place."  He took a breath, then added his mantra: "Love each other or die."

Shabbat Shalom, v'gmar tov - a good fast

Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

3 Tishrei. More than Matzo Balls

This is a cross-posting of an article sent out to our congregation via email.  A wonderful interview with congregant, Adele Josovitz about Break Fast at the end of Yom Kippur.  Future editions of this series will also be cross-posted here on the blog for all to enjoy.

Today we’re introducing a new, periodic column to share with the Congregation B’nai Israel community. It will discuss something we all enjoy….food! It will feature interviews with different B’nai Israel members conducted by a congregant who prefers to be called Aunt Blanche. If enough people want it to continue, the column will appear periodically around Jewish holidays. Please send us an email and tell us what you think and what you’re interested in reading about. Our first column features an interview with longtime temple member Adele Josovitz of Fairfield.

Aunt Blanche: Your break fast meals at the end of Yom Kippur are legendary. I hear you have more than 40 people to your house. What’s your first memory of breaking the Yom Kippur fast?

Adele: Well, I don’t have any early memories of breaking fast but my younger sister is quite adamant that our mom fasted. Our dad didn’t fast because he had to work 24/7 since we lived on a chicken farm in New Jersey. Chickens don’t know the difference between one day and the next.

For me, however, the most important thing about holidays was being with our family. It was eating together and being together: aunts, uncles, cousins and friends. I do remember walking with my family to a=2 0very small Orthodox shul – The First Hebrew Farmers Association of Perrineville. This was where all of the Jewish chicken farmers in the area went to pray

Aunt Blanche: So Adele, you mean you have never fasted at Yom Kippur? I’m shocked.

Adele: I actually don’t remember whether or not I fasted before I went to college, though my sister insists that we did fast. However, I absolutely remember fasting while I was in college. I definitely didn’t fast when I was pregnant. That was a bonus of being pregnant!

Aunt Blanche: Does fasting serve a purpose?

Adele: It makes me remember and think about our Jewish heritage. It also reminds me of the pai n and suffering of our ancestors. Do I have to fast to think about these things? No. But I do it because it’s Yom Kippur and that’s what Jews do.

Aunt Blanche: What do you really think about when you fast?

Adele: I think about many things, including the meal I’m preparing for our family and friends who will be descending upon our house!

Aunt Blanche: Most people have a few people over to their home, maybe six or 10 people. You have 40 or 50 and you do it every year. That’s crazy.

Adele: I just invited 10 more people yesterday. Shhh, don’t tell my husband, he doesn’t know yet. However, he won’t be surprised, becau se this is what always happens. We invite the stragglers – the people who have no place to go. Our children invite people and our friends invite people, so I never know who will be coming. It’s always a pleasant surprise to see who will be arriving at our doorstep. It’s very important that everyone has somewhere to go during the holidays.

Aunt Blanche: So Adele.. What are you serving this year at your break fast?

Adele: Well, there are two halves. There’s the dairy half and the meat half. People can pick what they want to eat. Since I’m not kosher, I have the flexibility to do the meal my way.

Aunt Blanche: Tell me more.

Adele: We’ll put out my Aunt Sylvia=E 2s Chicken Fricassee, Matzo Ball Soup, Vegetable Soup, Bagels, lox, white fish, cream cheese, two kinds of noodle pudding (one without dairy for the “lactose people” as we call them! ) herring, gefilte fish, kasha varnishkes. Kapelstash (fried cabbage and noodle.) Then there’s tongue, pastrami, corned beef, turkey, salads, pickles and olives, roasted vegetables, tomatoes with basil and mozzarella. We have lots of desserts…pies, cookies, cupcakes, fruit salad and my other Aunt Sylvia’s Mandel bread. I had two Aunt Sylvias. Now, that’s a name that doesn’t come up too often in baby announcements!

Of course, people do bring food, even though I tell them not to. I do understand that it’s hard to come to a house empty-handed. So there is always an amazing assortment of food other than what I’ve made.

Aunt Blanche: But that’s insane. That’s like a bar mitzvah, a wedding and a bat mitzvah combined.

Adele: I know, I know. I’m trying to recreate my childhood memories of holidays I shared with my extended family eating together at a very long table in our playroom. So, I am creating memories for my children, just like our parents did for us. Actually, it doesn’t really matter what is served, it’s always people coming together and celebrating.

Aunt Blanche: So what should people serve?

Adele: You don’t have to serve a big meal. You could serve scrambled eggs, bagels, lox and cream cheese. The important thing is to share food with people.

Aunt Blanche: Where do you shop?

Adele: Well, we don’t have any more Jewish delis around here. I go to Stop and Shop and Trader Joe’s. I have a friend who stops at Rhein’s Deli in Vernon and brings me the kosher cold cuts. My son is a baker at Billy’s Bakery and we get all our baked goods there.

Aunt Blanche: How important is food to being Jewish?

Adele: Gosh. You can never have too much food! You always have to send people home with food, don’t you? Food is very important but it is the sharing that is more important. Come into somebody’s house and everyone moves to the kitchen. The kitchen is the heart of the home.

Below is the Recipe for Adele’s Aunt Sylvia’s Mandel Bread
Aunt Sylvia Robbins Mandelbrot – also known as Mandel bread
Oven Temperature: 350 °

Ingredients:

3 large eggs
3 cups flour
¾ cup sugar
¾ cup oil
2 tsp. &n bsp;baking powder
1 tsp. vanilla
1 ¼ cup chopped almonds/walnuts

Topping:
½ cup sugar
1 TBS. Cinnamon

Mix together

Mixing Directions:
Beat eggs.
Add sugar – mix thoroughly
Add oil – mix thoroughly
Add vanilla
Mix flour and baking powder together
Fold in flour/baking powder
Add nuts
Divide the dough into 3 balls
Refrigerate for 1 hour

Baking Directions:

Lightly oil baking sheet
Take each ball and shape into a flat, rectangular loaf –
approximately 1 inch high and 2 inches wide
Bake 350 ° - 20 minutes

Take each “loaf” out of the oven and cut into slices – this will determine the thickness of the mandel bread.
Put each slice on its side on the cookie sheet
Sprinkle with cinnamon and sugar
Bake 400 ° - 8 – 10 minutes

Cool on a cooling rack and ENJOY!

Elul 29. Reflections on a month of soul-preparation

Tonight is the last night of the blog before Erev Rosh Hashanah.  For those who have written, read or contributed, I hope that it has provided an opportunity for daily pause and reflection and that this year's Rosh Hashanah, 10 days of repentance, and Yom Kippur, we are able entered more mindfully and more centered as a result of these daily moments of reflection.  


Last Saturday night, when our local communities joined together for a staged reading of Merle Feld's 'The Gates are Closing', we learnt about 10 individuals and the pains, losses, guilt, silences, and fractures that each character carried from the lives they had lived up to this moment.  From the perspective of the audience it was so powerfully evident that no-one who begins to reflect on the parts of their lives that need healing and the places where teshuvah can help them reconnect, re-center, and drawer closer to a God-presence in their lives when they enter a synagogue sanctuary on Yom Kippur, can possibly hope to complete the process in a 25 hour period. We need time to contemplate, to speak healing, forgiving, or confessional words to others, to God, and to re-commit ourselves to aiming toward new patterns of behavior in the coming years.  The month of Elul provides us with the gift of this time, if we choose to accept it.


But while these days are Judaism's annual invitation to return, the possibility is always there.  If we are open to God's comforting Presence, accompanying us and holding us as we find the courage to do the difficult work of teshuvah and growth, we will find that the gates never truly close.


Over this past month Sh'ma Koleinu - Hear Our Voices, has received more than 500 visitors.  The blog will be continuing into the New Year, not on a daily basis (although a kabbalistic reflection series is in the works when we arrive at the Counting of the Omer, after Pesach), but there will be more coming between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, a weekly reflection just before Shabbat, and festival reflections throughout the year.  An invitation to share teachings, practices, and reflections remains open - we continue to strive to expand the number of voices represented on these pages, so please do send in pieces that you'd like to contribute.


Wishing everyone a Shanah Tovah u'm'tukah - a very Happy & Sweet New Year,
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Elul 28. Making it a Sweet New Year

Around this time of year, many Jewish magazines and newspapers will feature honey cake recipes, articles about the challenges of not producing a dry, unexciting honey cake, and whether or not most of us actually like honey cake. So much angst about honey cakes! I grew up very blessed in this department. While I have tasted my fair share of dry, unexciting honey cakes in other places, my mother always makes a wonderfully moist, totally delicious version. She tells me that she works off a hand-written recipe that she got from our neighbor, probably close to 30 years ago. So I don't know the true origin of this recipe, but I know it works. The trick is to not overcook it, and to make it at least two-three days before you intend to serve it, wrapping it in foil until that time - it allows for the moist, sticky honey to really work its way through the cake.

So no more angst! Here's a recipe that has given the Gurevitz family pleasure for many years:

A really good honey cake recipe

1lb Self Raising Flour
1lb Clear Honey
Half honey jar of sunflower oil
Three quarters honey jar of tepid water
Half honey jar castor sugar
2 teaspoons mixed spice
2 teaspoons bicarbonate of soda
2 eggs

Mix together ingredients adding eggs last. Beat for about three minutes
until smooth batter. Use paper cake case or silicone paper in tin for ease
of removing. If you wish sprinkle with almond flakes.

Oven temp. 350/180. If fan oven 330/160. Start checking if ready after
40/45 minutes but can take up to 60 mins depending on oven. To check put
knife into middle of cake. If it comes out clean it will be ready.

This amount makes two 8 inch round cakes.

Elul 27. The Gates are Opening

At the end of Yom Kippur, the images are of gates closing.  But now, as we enter the last few days of Elul and arrive at the New Year, the emotional and spiritual place we have entered since S'lichot is one where the gates are beginning to open - gates of the soul, gates of heaven, entrances to holiness, full of possibility.  A link from a friend on facebook today pointed to a powerful soul-reflection of a song recorded by Nina Simone - a spiritual called 'Nobody's fault but mine', with a fascinating history.



Music is one of the keys that open the gates to the soul.  Earlier this month, our Cantor, Sheri Blum, reflected on the power of Avinu Malkeynu as a soul-opening and transformational piece of music and liturgy.  Listen to one of the most powerful recordings of the Janowski setting, by Barbra Streisand.



May our gates be opened, may our hearts be moved, and may our soul-work this season bring us closer to our Source.

Elul 26. Sorry, Again

Today's blog entry is a cross-post from Tablet Magazine.  Marjorie Ingall writes a wonderful piece, subtitled, 'There’s no sure way to raise kids who apologize and accept apologies'.  How do parents help their children to say 'sorry', and learn forgiveness of others?  The link below will you take you straight to the article.

Sorry, Again

Elul 25. A night of S'lichot to Remember

Last night our S'lichot program and service, held jointly with Beth El of Fairfield and B'nai Torah of Trumbull, proved to be a very powerful experience for all involved.  The first part of the evening consisted of a staged reading of Merle Feld's play 'The Gates Are Closing'.  More on that later in the week - it is such a rich and powerful piece that it needs its own blog entry.  The depth of reflection and sharing from members of our joint community following the reading was as much a part of the experience as the play itself.  As one of our colleagues, Rabbi Dan Satlow reflected that, while he may tell his community during the High Holydays that others at nearby synagogues are reciting the same prayers as they are, by coming together and sharing these reflections, and praying together, we felt the reality of that commonality and the partnership of Jewish community extended beyond congregational boundaries as experienced rather than abstract.


The service itself was also a reflection of multiple voices and styles, seamlessly woven together from the contributions of 4 rabbis, 2 cantors and 1 rabbinical student.  It was remarkable because there was almost no advance planning involved in this part, yet the earlier evening program had really opened up the energy and spirit of S'lichot such that each leader could tap into that Source, and the whole that emerged felt like some of the most powerful praying we had all experienced in a while.


Beyond the specifics of the prayers, the melodies, the play, the discussion, bringing three communities together, blending our approaches and contributions, felt in and of itself like the holiest of vehicles on which we could be carried from S'lichot into this week leading up to Rosh Hashanah.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Elul 24. Psalm 32 - A guide to teshuvah

Over the past three weeks, our Shabbat morning Torah study group has been studying psalms that reflect on themes of forgiveness. The first of the three we studied, psalm 32, has a particularly contemporary resonance to it, offering what today we might label a psycho-spiritual teaching on forgiveness that offers much food for thought. Here is the text of the psalm:


Psalm 32. Of David. Maschil.

1. Happy is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered over.

2. Happy is the man whom the Eternal does not hold guilty, and in whose spirit there is no guile.

3. When I kept silence, my limbs wasted away away through my groaning all the day long.

4. For day and night Your hand was heavy upon me; my sap was turned as in the droughts of summer. Selah

5. Then I acknowledged my sin to You, I did not cover up my guilt; 
I said: 'I will make confession concerning my transgressions to the Eternal'-- 
and You, You forgave the iniquity of my sin. Selah

6. For this let every one that is godly pray to You in a time when You may be found; 
so when the great waters overflow, they will not reach him.

7. You are my shelter; You will preserve me from distress; with songs of deliverance You will surround me. Selah

8. I will instruct you and teach you in the way which you shall go; I will give counsel, my eye being upon you.

9. Be not as the horse, or as the mule, which have no understanding; whose mouth must be held in with bit and bridle, that they come not near to you.

10. Many are the torments of the wicked; but he that trusts in the Eternal, mercy encompasses him.

11. Be glad in the Eternal, and rejoice, you righteous; and shout for joy, all you that are upright in heart.

Some of the observations and points of discussion in our study group were:

• What is the meaning of ‘happy’ in the opening line? When we have a committed a wrong, does confession to God and true teshuvah lead to happiness? Some thought that ‘relieved’ might be more appropriate; but others recognized more of a joie de vivre – a spiritually-ground joy in living that can emerge from true teshuvah as we allow ourselves to recommit to positive living rather than forever being trapped in the depths of our own remorse.
• In verse 3 we see what, at face value, seems to be a contradiction; when I kept silence my limbs wasted away from all my groaning… But when we are aware that we have done wrong but hold back from speaking with those we have wronged, or even offering up our feelings of deep remorse in prayer to God, our guilt can have a real psychological and physical impact on our body and soul it can literally 'eat us up.'
• The psalm enjoins us to do teshuvah and experience God’s mercy and presence as we work through our guilt and inner torments. The horse, who is guided by our lead via the bit and bridle, is contrasted with the free will of humanity, containing both the yetzer hatov and the yetzer hara – the inclination to good and to evil. What is the source of our internal steering mechanism? When we stray from our path, acts of teshuvah, tefilah, and tzedakah (in the words of the High Holyday prayer, unetaneh tokef), can help us find our way back into God’s embrace. There is surely a deep, spiritual joy that can emanate from finding our way back home again.
• Several times we see the word 'Selah' after a line.  Difficult to translate literally, it is perhaps best interpreted as 'Pause and consider'.  Psalm 32 offers a contemplative text that we can use as a gateway to our own teshuvah process as we move ever-closer to the New Year.

Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Elul 22. Petition (a prayer for selichot)

This is a cross-posting from the blog of The Velveteen Rabbi, Rachel Barenblat.  I'm a fan of her blog, and you'll also find a link to the front page of the blog under our 'Blogs that Inspire' list.  For those who are local to Congregation B'nai Israel, we invite you to join us at a S'lichot program and service that is being jointly hosted by us and two of our local Conservative congregations, Beth El of Fairfield and B'nai Torah of Trumbull.  We will be gathering at 8.30 p.m. this Saturday, September 12, for a reading of the play 'The Gates are Closing' written by the wonderful poet and playwright, Merle Feld.  Following the play, there will be discussion and dessert, and then a short S'lichot service to close the night.  Our joint program is being held at B'nai Torah, in Trumbull.

This coming Saturday, when Shabbat has come to an end, it will be time in my community for selichot, a service of prayers which we recite to prepare ourselves for the coming Days of Awe. (You can learn more about selichot here at MyJewishLearning.com; there are study resources at this S'lichot-URJ page, and for something completely different -- from a Reform resource to an Orthodox one! -- you might try this essay at Aish called Slichot and the 13 Attributes.)

A while back, my friend Jan (not this Jan, but this Jan) asked whether I'd written any prayers for selichot. I hadn't, but made a note to try to write one during Elul this year. I humbly offer that prayer here. Feel free to use it, share it, daven it, and respond to it in whatever ways you feel moved.

---

PETITION (A PRAYER FOR SELICHOT)

Compassionate One, remember
we are your children

help us to know again
that we are cradled

during these awesome days
of changing light

we want to return
to your lap, to your arms

remind us how to believe
that we are loved

not for our achievements
but because we are yours

as the moon of Elul wanes
and the new year rushes in

hear us with compassion
enfold us, don't let us go

---

[petition.mp3]

Elul 21. A Break-fast that sustains body and soul

Preparing myself for the Days of Awe...it starts today with the ingredients sitting on my kitchen counter, ingredients waiting to be made into kugels, souffles, casseroles and quiches.  Into the freezer they'll then go, and on September 28 out on the break-fast table they'll be.  For the past 25 years, hosting break-fast has been our family tradition.  We are usually 30 - 40 strong, even after 24 hours of fasting.  We come together hungry, reflective, sometimes plainly satisfied, sometimes observedly solemn.  With open anticipation, we all crowd into the dining room.  


Our break-fast begins with our own family ritual, an assertive blast of the shofar.  The defining moment is when I raise my bagel for Hamotzi and look around at all the faces, the familiar faces of friends and family who are with us year after year, the faces of new lives and new friends, the missing faces.  It is at that moment that I realize, measure and find myself in awe of all that is the same and all that has changed.  It is at that moment that I take stock of the year that has passed and catch a glimpse of the year to come.  
L'Shanah Tovah, 
Elaine Chetrit

Elul 20. One small step toward forgiveness

Last night I began watching a documentary, The Power of Forgiveness.  It is both powerful and challenging, as it introduces us to individuals who have experienced some of the worst horrors and have been exposed to a culture of hatred.  Included are interviews with Elie Wiesel, Catholics and Protestants in Northern Ireland, those impacted by the events of 9/11 in the USA, buddhist teacher and author, Thich Nhat Hanh, and members of the Amish community.  I recommend the documentary as thought-provoking viewing, particularly during this month of Elul.

One moment, early in the documentary, that particularly moved me, was watching teachers in Nothern Ireland work with young children.  These children are part of families who have lived for decades - multiple generations - in a culture of hate and violence.  While peace has come to Northern Ireland, there are still many years of work ahead to rebuild trust, and authentic community connections across the Catholic/Protestant divide.  A curriculum has been created, and schools engage in activities to teach a culture of forgiveness among the youth - trying to lay the foundations for a brighter future.  As the curriculum designers state in the documentary, the goal is not to turn a blind eye to wrongs or ignore injustices where action must be taken.  But when a wrong is magnified in a way that vilifies an individual or an entire community, it becomes the excuse for replenishing a well of anger and nurturing a culture of hate.  How to break the cycle?

We start with the individual self.  How do we respond when provoked?  How do we prevent a particular experience from becoming the sole lens through which we experience the 'other' or experience the rest of our lives?  One young child in the documentary tells her teacher about her sister who had been nasty to her and hit her.  She expresses the hurt of that moment.  Then the teacher hands her a pair of shaded plastic spectacles.  She puts them on and is asked, if she looks at her sister through this other lens, can she find something about her sister that is positive.  'She is always there for me', the little girl says.

In the documentary it is a moment that lasts a few seconds, but it is moving.
When someone hurts us, or we experience suffering through circumstances that have befallen us, might we find the first steps toward forgiveness and the ability to move on in our lives if only we could take a look through another set of lenses?
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

19 Elul. Contemplating life and loss

I was recently in conversation with a friend about the experience of being a rabbi and officiating at many funerals.  I was asked if and how I was affected by encountering so much loss and death.  While there is a great deal that could be said, and I'm sure many clergy would answer the question differently, the experience of officiating at funerals always leaves me contemplative, returning to some of life's biggest questions.

When I speak to friends and family of the deceased, in order to gather impressions and stories for a eulogy, or when I listen to the eulogies of others delivered at the funeral, particularly when I did not personally know the deceased or did not know them well, I am often left with the feeling that I missed out by not having had the opportunity to experience this individual in my life.  It is a very powerful experience to hear how they were present in the lives of others, leaving one feeling a sense of their absence very strongly.  The message - every life is unique and every person is special and has contributed something to the life of others.

I am also drawn to spend some time recognizing the preciousness of people in my life and sometimes find myself stepping into the time when they will not be with me in this world.  I feel the potential of loss acutely, and my love for friends and family feels intensified in that moment.

I also find myself reflecting on my own life.  Am I living it the way I would want it to be remembered?  What is the source of my life's meaning?

We must not wait for the funerals of our lives to contemplate these questions to find meaning in all the connections we have and the communities we are part of.  We must not wait until the end to tell others how much we truly loved them and cherished them in our lives, or how much we learnt from them.  On Yom Kippur in the medieval poem unetaneh tokef we are asked to contemplate who shall live and who shall die.  I don't believe in a God who is willfully making those decisions about each of us.  But I do believe that every human being is unique and every life is special, and we are called upon at the New Year to return to who we truly are, recommit to connect more passionately and more deeply with each other.  Because this is the only life that we have, and this is where we will find ultimate meaning and, ultimately, find God.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

18 Elul. Teshuvah Walks

By Rabbi Goldie Milgram

During each of the "Days of Awe" between Rosh HaShannah and Yom Kippur 2000 I planned to take a teshuvah walk.

What is a teshuvah walk? Some years ago while on a retreat with Rabbi Shefa Gold and Sylvia Boorstein, we were doing Buddhist meditation walks. This is done so slowly that one becomes aware of how conscious it is possible to be with each centimeter of one's foot when stepping down and lifting up. Time slows down, the present becomes everything, the step gone by is not important compared to the one in which one is engaged.

An active quick mind is not always advantageous, this can lead one to leap over the opportunity to hear the ideas, needs and feelings of others. Such leaps can have adverse consequences. So it occurred to me a few years ago, that when one is going to meet another person as part of a process of doing teshuvah (the returning of healthy energy to a relationship) that a meditation walk might be a good form of preparation.

My method is to study a great work on teshuvah each day. Then to head to the neighborhood where the teshuvah encounter is to take place, though not to the precise location. Next I take a sacred phrase and chant it softly while walking ever so slowly. My hope is to prepare myself so as to arrive as carefully prepared as a vessel that has been made ready for use on the altar in the temple of old.

The text I chose for Day One is by Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz: "Time flows in one direction; it is impossible to undo or even to alter an action after it has occurred and become an 'event', an objective fact. However, even though the past is 'fixed', repentance allows one to rise above it, to change its significance for the present and the future ... It is the potential for something else. "

Rabbi Goldie Milgram, Reclaiming Judaism as a Spiritual Practice: Holy Days and Shabbat,
Jewish Lights, 2004; more information available at reclaimingjudaism.org. Used with permission of the author.

17 Elul. Gratitude for Daily Miracles

Inspired by last week's posting about a local Happiness Club, and ways to re-center our lives each and every day by beginning with an attitude of gratitude, congregant Beth Lazar wrote this poem - a contemporary interpretation of the traditional birkat hashachar - the morning blessings.

Thank-you God for awakening me to the new day

to You & only You I pray

Thank-you for enabling me to speak

Please accept these words of praise from your servant so meek -

Your Holy blessing I do seek.

Thank-you God 

for my eyes and the ability to see

the forces of loving friends and family

and the beauty of your creativity.

Thank-you God 

for my ears and the ability to hear

birds chirping, the wind & music

Words of wisdom & words of good cheer.

Thank-you God

for my strong arms & legs

that enable me to work & play

and get me where I want to go

and enable me to reap & sow.

Thank-you God

for the clothing on my back

healthy food, shelter, clothing

There is nothing that I lack.

Thank-you God

for these miracles You perform each day

to You & only You I pray.

Please accept these words of thanks

from Your servant so meek

Your Holy acceptance I do seek.

Have a daily affirmation that helps to orientate you for the day?  Please share it by leaving a comment.