Counting up and Counting down

We are four weeks into the Counting of the Omer, the period of seven weeks between Passover and Shavuot. Once a time of waiting as grain grew in fields, ready for harvesting at Shavuot, this period of time later became interpreted as a time of personal growth.  We move not only from the experience but also the mindset of slavery, to the moment of Revelation at Mount Sinai, understood as a God-encounter where we can be at our most spiritually expansive; exhibited through a refinement of character traits and behaviors that see our actions most aligned with our values and beliefs.

The tradition of Counting the Omer is a practice of counting each day as we reach sundown.  But while each day brings us closer to the festival, the ritual asks that we count up and not count down.  Perhaps this is purely pragmatic.  Shavuot is the only biblically-ordained festival that is not provided with a specific date on a specific month but, rather, is described as seven weeks after Passover.  So we count up until we hit seven.  Perhaps the counting is also symbolic - the sense of moving upward as in a spiritual ascent, just as Moses ascended Mt. Sinai for the Revelation encounter.  But perhaps, also, the upward counting is a way of reminding us to keep moving forward.  Sometimes our life experiences see us looking back, trying to hold on to something that is gone.  We experience the pain of loss, as we should when we lose something, but sometimes the pain stays with us so much longer because of our inability to notice what is right in front of us today.  When we count the Omer, before reciting the formula for announcing this day, we number the previous day.  So, when announcing the arrival of the third day, we would say aloud 'yesterday was the second day' and then, after the blessing for counting the Omer, we announce 'today is the third day of the Omer'.  We recognize that we are formed by our  past experiences, but then we affirm the newness of this day - we will not be defined or limited by our past.  We face today as a new opportunity, with new potential for growth and spiritual expression.

This year, as I count the Omer, I am aware of my own journeying, and the tendencies to look back or look forward, but sometimes forgetting to treasure this very day.  Not long after Shavuot I will be journeying, from Congregation B'nai Israel in Bridgeport CT to Congregation B'nai Shalom in Westborough, MA.  It is a bitter-sweet time.  Looking back, I find myself trying not to count or notice that there is one day less left at B'nai Israel.  It has been such a wonderful spiritual home these past six years, and it is not easy to leave.  And yet, I am thrilled to have been given the opportunity to serve Congregation B'nai Shalom, and each time I return for another visit and meet more people, my enthusiasm grows.  I begin to imagine the work we will do there together.

Looking back... and looking forward... and sometimes forgetting to notice this moment and this day.
Hayom shloshim yom, sh'hem arba'ah shavuot u-shnei yamim la'omer. 
Today is the thirtieth day, making four weeks and two days of the Omer.

#BlogExodus, Nisan 13: Who asks the questions and who provides the answers?

As we sit down at our Seder tables this year we repeat, as we do every year, the words that remind us that it is important for us to remember the exodus from Egypt as if we, ourselves, experienced it.  If we engage in the ritual of the Passover Seder as more than just another family meal, we find a whole toolbox laid out in the manual we call the Haggadah, that can help us to do this.  There are tastes, there are words and stories, there are questions and (sometimes) there are answers (but it is the search that is more important than the answers themselves).  There are songs and, if we choose, there is storytelling through acting, reminiscing, the young asking the old, and the old asking the young.

The haggadah tells us that we have to find a way to make the experience of gaining freedom from slavery come alive for each and every generation.  This is not only to ensure that we don’t forget our heritage and our story; it is also because some of the early generations of Rabbis who crafted this ritual understood that the way Jews related to this story in one generation or in one era would be different to the ways that it worked for Jews of another time.

The meaning and the purpose of Passover has changed over the centuries – it fulfilled a different need for us at different times.  Once it was an agricultural celebration.  At other times it was a story of hope when we were oppressed and discriminated against.  In the last generation in the USA it became a vehicle for Jews now living freely to speak about their obligations to help free others from their shackles, giving birth to Haggadot that focused on civil rights, women’s rights, the environment, and more.

What will Passover mean for the next generation? What ‘job’ will it do that adds significant meaning to their lives? It might have something to do with autonomy or the ability to feel like they can still make a difference in an era of powerful corporations and the undue influence of money.  It might be the freedom to make different kinds of lifestyle choices.  It might mean a psycho-spiritual kind of freedom that comes from within.  It might inspire them to engage in local or worldwide social justice actions to help free others. We don’t know what the next generation will dream. 

But, while the Passover has traditionally always been a time when the youngest ask the adults the questions so that they will understand where they come from and the inheritance that is theirs, it is essential that we adults ask our children questions too.  If we want them to imagine that it is they, themselves who are leaving the slavery of Egypt, we need to ask them what that means to them.

You can do this with children of any age, but I especially encourage those with teenagers or young adults at their Passover table this year to ask the question, as I will be doing this year at my Seder.  I am confident that your Seder will be transformed into an interesting and important conversation, and I’d love to hear what you learn from our next generations.

#BlogExodus, Nisan 9: Springtime as Freedom-time

I've missed a few days of #BlogExodus blogging, but the great thing about a project that involves many people, is that you can read lots of other great blogs on each and every day of this month of Nisan/lead-up to Pesach project.  You can track them all on Twitter by searching for #BlogExodus, but here are just a small selection from the past few days:
On 'Cleaning' check out this procrastinator's musings.
On 'Slavery', a reminder that it is still real today, and not just a symbolic matter.
On 'Freedom', check out The Huffington Post.
The 7th of Nisan focused on 'Redemption' - take a look at a more personal reflection here.
The 8th of Nisan turned to themes of 'Courage and Faith' - here is a thoughtful reflection on bullying

And so now we've reached the 9th of Nisan and our theme today is 'Spring'.  The following is my Passover message for our local weekly newspaper consortium, Hersam-Acorn, in print in several local towns this coming week:

Is it mere coincidence that the Jewish festival of Passover, beginning this Friday eve, April 6^th, falls in the early weeks of Springtime? The answer is ‘no’, both from a historical perspective but also from a symbolic perspective.  Historically, several scholars suggest that there was a pre-existing Springtime celebration before the Jewish people assigned Passover and the re-telling of the exodus from Egypt to this time in the calendar.  In fact, we see hints of this earlier celebration embedded in the Exodus story itself.  Exodus, chapter five begins: ‘And afterward Moses and Aaron came, and said to Pharaoh: 'Thus says the Eternal, the God of Israel: Let My people go, that they may hold a feast for Me in the wilderness.'   Spring is the season of new flowers and buds appearing in nature, and it is the lambing season. The centrality of the sacrifice of a lamb just before the tenth and final plague that led to the Hebrew slaves being allowed to go free may well have been related to an earlier celebration where a first-born of the new flock was offered up in thanksgiving.

Today we do not sacrifice animals as part of the Passover celebration; instead a shankbone is placed as one of the symbols on a Seder plate that takes center stage in the home-based ceremony held in Jewish homes all over the world to mark the beginning of the holiday.  Another symbol of fertility and new life is also found on this plate – an egg (a Spring time symbol shared by our Christian neighbors at Easter).

But Spring time remains deeply symbolic as a time not only of new birth, but struggles for freedom from oppression over the centuries, new hope and new possibilities.  We may be most familiar with the recent waves of unrest and uprisings against dictatorial leaders in the Middle East, dubbed ‘the Arab Spring’.  These movements did not literally begin during Springtime, but commentators quickly adopted the phrase that can be traced back to the 1800s.  Ben Zimmer, author of www.visualthesaurus.com, finds the earliest usage with a German philosopher, Ludwig Borne, in 1818.  Referring to several European revolutions in the mid-1800s, in French the phrase used was printemps des peuples (springtime of the peoples) and, in English, ‘The People’s Springtime’.

What is common to both the current socio-political changes, the European revolutions, and the Biblical Exodus is that the journey from slavery to freedom is never straightforward.  We are much more certain about what we are seeking freedom from but it usually takes a lot longer to know what we will do with our freedom.  For the Hebrews it took forty years of wandering in the wilderness but, along the journey they created a covenant with God that provided them with laws and structures for creating a new society in a new land, where time and again they were reminded not to oppress others, because they had once been slaves in Egypt.  This is a message that we all need to hear, year after year, precisely because it is so easy to forget the greater purpose of freedom once we have the power to choose our own path.

This Springtime, in the weeks following Passover, the Jewish community is joining together with Christian, Muslim, and Hindu brothers and sisters for an ‘Interfaith Spring’ on Sunday, April 29^th.  Together we will both celebrate and remember our obligation to care for our natural world, joining to clean up the Greater Bridgeport area.  We begin with a BBQ at Rodeph Shalom at 1 p.m., taking interfaith groups to work in cleaning up the city for the afternoon, and returning at 4.30 for more music and celebration.  To join us, please email  rabbivictor@rodephsholom.com

#BlogExodus, Nisan 3: Learning and Teaching

As we sit down at our Seder tables this year we repeat, as we do every year, the words that remind us that it is important for us to remember the exodus from Egypt as if we, ourselves, experienced it.  

The haggadah tells us that we have to find a way to make the experience of gaining freedom from slavery come alive for each and every generation.  This is not only to ensure that we don’t forget our heritage and our story; it is also because some of the early generations of Rabbis who crafted this ritual understood that the way Jews related to this story in one generation or in one era would be different to the ways that it worked for Jews of another time.

So, when we think about the Seder as an opportunity for learning and teaching, I'd like to suggest that we set aside some of our normative assumptions.  As we think about how to conduct our Seder, we might usually assume that it is any children or youth at the table that are doing the learning, and it is the adults doing the teaching.  In families that still conduct the Seder with a 'head of the family' running things, the flow of information is more likely to be one-way.  But we need to make space for younger generations to teach as well as to learn; to not only ask questions but also to provide answers.  Doing so provides an opportunity for them to relate to the deeper learning that comes from re-experiencing the journey from slavery to freedom in ways that work for today's generation.

The meaning and the purpose of Passover has changed over the centuries – it fulfilled a different need for us at different times.  Once it was an agricultural celebration.  At other times it was a story of hope when we were oppressed and discriminated against.  In the last generation in the USA it became a vehicle for Jews now living freely to speak about their obligations to help free others from their shackles, giving birth to Haggadot that focused on civil rights, women’s rights, the environment, and more.

What will Passover mean for the next generation? What ‘job’ will it do that adds significant meaning to their lives? It might have something to do with autonomy or the ability to feel like they can still make a difference in an era of powerful corporations and the undue influence of money.  It might be the freedom to make different kinds of lifestyle choices.  It might mean a psycho-spiritual kind of freedom that comes from within.  We don’t know what the next generation will dream. If we want them to imagine that it is they, themselves who are leaving the slavery of Egypt, we need to ask them what that means to them.

You can do this with children of any age, but I especially encourage those with teenagers or young adults at their Passover table this year to ask the question, as I will doing this year at my Seder.  I am confident that your Seder will be transformed into an interesting and important conversation, and I’d love to hear what you learn from our next generations.

#BlogExodus, Nisan 2; Chametz - the good & bad of leavened bread

This is day 2 of #BlogExodus, and our theme is Chametz - the term that refers to leavened foods - the opposite of matzah (unleavened bread).  The Torah commands that, as part of our observance of Passover, we remove all chametz from our homes and refrain from eating it for the duration of the festival.

As is the case with so many of our Jewish rituals, we have many layers of interpretation that we can delve into from across the centuries to explore the practical and symbolic meaning of chametz and the importance of its absence during this holiday.

In the symbolic arena, many have referred to chametz as a sign of puffed-up ego, or yetzer hara  more generally.  Yetzer hara  is usually translated as 'evil inclination', but that gives a strong impression of something negative that we must rid ourselves of.  The problem is, we are allowed to eat chametz for the other 358 days of the year.  So it doesn't make a lot of sense, even symbolically, to assign chametz a meaning that is 'bad.'  In some of the earliest collections of rabbinic midrashim we find acknowledgments that yetzer hara is better understood as will or desire.  We all need it in healthy doses - without it we would not create anything, make love, enjoy food etc. But, as with all things in life, we need balance - too much yetzer hara isn't good for us or for our society.  Just as too much leavening makes for a sour taste when we bake bread, so too much yetzer hara turns everything we do sour.

Nevertheless, why do we have to rid ourselves of it completely for Pesach?  On a less symbolic level, some have suggested that, like the unleavened cakes that were part of the Temple offerings in ancient times, each of us turn our homes into mini-Temples.  We don't do the Pascal lamb sacrifice at the Temple any more, but our homes have become the new location for the rituals that we do to celebrate the holiday. So our homes are now sanctuaries for increasing our awareness of God's presence, just as the Temple that once stood in Jerusalem was where everyone was expected to go for the major holidays, because the intensity of God-awareness was greatest when everyone focused on one special place.

Back to the symbolic level again, I recognize that full freedom comes not only from the social and political environment we might live in, but from an inner state that requires trust and faith, and which I am more aware of when I participate in rituals or actions that make me more God-conscious.  Rabbi Nachman of Breslov taught that it was not that the unleavened bread was holy and the leavened bread was absent of holiness; rather that the puffed-up nature of leavened bread represented a world where the inner essential holy sparks of all things can be disguised by the complexities of the material world.  That is the world that we live in.  But perhaps we become more adept at navigating our way through that material world if we can take a week to strip away some of the extraneous things, simplify our subsistence, and look for the inner essence within ourselves and others.

In today's world, we often lose sight of the opportunity that Pesach gives us to simplify - we go overboard with seeking out 'kosher for Pesach' foods that we truly do not need to sustain us for 1 week.  How ironic that we have symbolically turned an entire category of 'appropriate for Pesach' foods into a kind of spiritual chametz - it gets in the way of the task that Pesach is designed to help us do spiritually.

So this year, perhaps take more time to think of the symbolic and spiritual meaning of chametz and use this as a guide to figure out what to throw out and what to buy in preparing for the Passover holiday.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

#BlogExodus, Nisan 1: From the narrow places I call

Tonight is Rosh Hodesh Nisan, the beginning of the first month of the year.  Yes, I know, its confusing - isn't Rosh Hashanah - the Jewish New Year that usually falls sometime in September - the start of the year?  Well, yes, that is the Jewish New Year, but Rosh Hashanah actually falls on the 1st day of the 7th month.  Because Jewish holy days were tied to the seasons long before our people superimposed historical and mythical layers to add to their meaning, it also makes sense that we would arrive at the beginning of the 1st month right after we announced the 1st day of Spring.  New life, new buds, new flowers appearing on earth - the sense of a new cycle beginning again.

This month I'm joining Rabbi Phyllis Sommer, along with many others, in #BlogExodus (that's how you'll search for others on Twitter who might have posted blogs as part of the project).  Together, we'll cover the days between the 1st and 14th of Nisan, leading up to Pesach.

Today's theme is the narrow places of Mitzrayim (Egypt).  As part of the Hallel (selection of psalms we sing on holidays and as part of the Passover Seder) we find the lines, min hameitzar karati Yah, anani va-merchav Yah.  From the narrow places I called out to God; God answered me expansively. (Ps. 118)

The first time I heard and learned the melody to these verses was with Debbie Friedman, z'l, at a Healing service in Westchester.  I don't quite recall, but it may well have been only the second time that I attended one of these services, and it was the month leading up to Pesach.  You can hear an excerpt of Debbie singing Min Hameitzar from 'The Journey Continues' album here.

I remember back to that time in my life.  I was not sick, but I had recently left the UK for a nine month stay at Elat Chayyim the transdenominational Jewish retreat center.  I was a bit home-sick, but it was also one of the most important periods of my life, in my mid-20s.  Looking back, I see that it was my soul that was aching - I was struggling internally with my sense of who I was and how to live my life.  I guess its the kind of angst familiar to many at that stage of life.  But it was a kind of spiritual mitzrayim - a narrow strait.  Debbie sang that song with a yearning in her voice - perhaps calling out from her own mitzrayim - and i felt some of the restraints that were holding me back start to break apart.  It was the beginning of my own journey through the wilderness to my Promised Land.

When I introduce the Mi Shebeirach prayer for healing during a service, I always invite my congregation to think of those in need of healing, 'whether healing of body or healing of spirit.'  I know that most people's minds turn immediately to those that they know who are physically ailing.  But Debbie taught us that we all need healing of spirit.  There is not one of us in this world who is so complete that we have no rough edges, no broken shards, or tender hearts, from some emotional or spiritual aching.  Each one of us can identify the mitzrayim that we live in, or have experienced at some time in our lives.

We begin the journey by calling out from that place - the narrow straits.  The ability to perceive expansiveness, to see that there is a path forward that can release us from the places we feel stuck in our lives, in our sense of self, in our sense of possibility ... the miracle is that the mere act of calling out can create the opening.  Just as the Hebrews in slavery had to call out before God heard and responded to their suffering.

Last week, we welcomed approx. 130 women, men and youth at our Women's Seder, dedicated to Debbie's memory, and led by the incredibly gifted and soulful Julie Silver.  It was a real honor to lead the Seder with Julie, accompanied by Carole Rivel, who accompanied Debbie in so many of the healing services and Women's Seders that she led for many years.  We all carry Debbie in our hearts, and her legacy lives on when we teach in her name, inspired by what she taught us.  She will forever remain as one of my greatest teachers.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

The Book of Purim (ding dong!)

Its that time of year again... welcome to Adar!  The first Purim shpiel to hit my facebook page this year that had me laughing out loud was courtesy of the 1st year class at Hebrew Union College, on the Jerusalem campus.  I haven't seen the Broadway musical, 'The Book of Mormon' yet, but you don't have to know the show to enjoy this production.
Happy almost Purim!
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Lessons from the Susan B Komen Foundation, Planned Parenthood, and recent events surrounding Contraceptive Coverage

I delivered the following sermon last Shabbat at Congregation B'nai Israel, Bridgeport, CT.  It contains two recent statements, one made by the Women's Rabbinic Network of the Central Conference of American Rabbis (CCAR) and one by an alliance of 28 mainstream religious organizations, regarding recent events that relate to women and access to birth control.  Some congregants requested the ability to read through the statements again, and so the entire sermon is posted here for the benefit of all who may to wish read more.

There are many different lessons that could be drawn from recent events of the past two weeks that pertain to women’s health issues. First, the decision by the Susan B Komen Foundation to de-fund breast cancer prevention services from Planned Parenthood, and then the reversal of that decision. And then, this week, the White House response to Catholic authorities protesting a health care coverage provision that required coverage to cover birth control. As you may have heard this morning, the White House did respond to these protests with a compromise that will now require the insurer -- rather than the employer -- to provide the contraceptive coverage free of charge for women employed by the entities in question. The Catholic church is still not happy, but Women’s advocacy groups are generally pleased because this will still give most women access to birth control coverage. Our own Religious Action Center also released a statement in support.

Many of us are shaking our heads, wondering why we are still fighting these battles. In the case of the Susan B Komen Foundation, a terrible manipulation appears to have taken place. We may never know how broadly intentional the attack on Planned Parenthood was by the board as a whole or whether the reputation of this organization – an organization that was presented with a prestigious award at our URJ Biennial – was truly jeopardized by one individual. There are many voices of indignation calling for mass resignations, such is the strength of the anger felt by women on what transpired. Personally, I have sympathy with the strength of these feelings but, pragmatically, I wonder whether the public ultimately wields more influence over the foundation by focusing on keeping their actions in check rather than demanding a radical turnover of the organization.

The Women’s Rabbinic Network of the CCAR released the following statement last week in response to the Foundation’s actions:
On behalf of over 600 Reform women rabbis, the Women's Rabbinic Network expresses gratitude to Planned Parenthood for the vital services it provides women, from mammograms and cervical cancer screenings, to family planning and contraceptive services, to safe abortions. For many women, Planned Parenthood is the only health care provider available to them. The Women's Rabbinic Network has always been a strong supporter of women's rights, reproductive justice, and women's health. The WRN applauds the decision of the Susan G. Komen Foundation for reversing revocation of its funding of Planned Parenthood. We are proud to be a part of the Union for Reform Judaism which presented Ambassador Nancy Brinker, founder of the Susan G. Komen Foundation, with the hightest honor bestowed by the Reform Movement, the Maurice N. Eisendrath Bearer of Light Award for Service to the World Community, in December 2011. We hope the Komen Foundation will continue to support women's health and all organizations that provide women's health services for many years to come.

As you can see, the tone is more affirming of the good behavior and affirming of our support of the good and important work that Planned Parenthood does, rather than emphasizing the bad behavior. Similarly, a statement signed by 28 major mainstream religious leaders representing a broad variety of religious organizations was released this week in support of the White House announcement on Contraceptive coverage in health care reform. This statement also emphasized and reinforced the good rather than negatively critiquing the behaviors of others.

Together, the leaders of these Christian, Jewish and Muslim national organizations affirmed:
“We stand with President Obama and Secretary Sebelius in their decision to reaffirm the importance of contraceptive services as essential preventive care for women under the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act, and to assure access under the law to American women, regardless of religious affiliation. We respect individuals’ moral agency to make decisions about their sexuality and reproductive health without governmental interference or legal restrictions.

We do not believe that specific religious doctrine belongs in health care reform – as we value our nation’s commitment to church-state separation. We believe that women and men have the right to decide whether or not to apply the principles of their faith to family planning decisions, and to do so they must have access to services. The Administration was correct in requiring institutions that do not have purely sectarian goals to offer comprehensive preventive health care. Our leaders have the responsibility to safeguard individual religious liberty and to help improve the health of women, their children, and families. Hospitals and universities across the religious spectrum have an obligation to assure that individuals’ conscience and decisions are respected and that their students and employees have access to this basic health care service. We invite other religious leaders to speak out with us for universal coverage of contraception.”

The Catholic bishops have called the new health coverage rule "an attack on religious freedom" and argue that all employers who object to contraception -- not just faith-based organizations -- should be exempt from having to provide it to their employees.

"That means removing the provision from the health care law altogether," said Anthony Picarello, general counsel for the USCCB, "not simply changing it for Catholic employers and their insurers." He added, "If I quit this job and opened a Taco Bell, I'd be covered by the mandate." Of course, his Taco Bell example makes the case for why the contraceptive coverage in health care reform is so important – can you imagine a situation where individual women can or cannot get coverage for contraception based on the religious beliefs of their boss at work?

Supporters of the provision say the only conscience that matters ought to be the conscience of the woman in question, whose option to have affordable contraception should not be dictated by the religious beliefs of her employer. Some of them feel that the religious exemption is already too broad, because women who work for churches in any capacity are excluded from the option of coverage.

I should point out that the statement that I just read from Religious organizations in favor of the contraceptive coverage include Catholics for Choice. Even within the Catholic church, the bishops are at odds with the majority of their followers. Recent surveys suggest that over 50% of practicing Catholics support access to contraceptive coverage. The Jewish signatories of the statement included the CCAR, Hadassah, the Jewish Reconstructionist Federation, National Council for Jewish Women, the Rabbinical Assembly, Society for Humanistic Judaism, and Women of Reform Judaism.

The essence of these issues is, I think, quite rightly expressed by the cross-communal statement. Individuals should and do have the moral agency to make decisions about their reproductive health. Someone whose religious beliefs lead them to decline some of these services has the right to do so. What they don’t have the right to do is to remove access to these services from someone who may believe very differently to them. Religious doctrine does not belong in health care reform. However, I also understand (even if I disagree with their beliefs) that some people of faith feel so strongly about these issues that they are truly concerned about being coerced by government into enabling access to contraceptive care. It would appear that the White House has truly responded thoughtfully, carefully, and compassionately in trying to respond to those concerns without compromising the health and rights of individual women. It is an example to us of what is possible when we are willing to talk in tones of grey, rather than black and white; when we are able to see multiple sides of an issue and not just demonize those who don’t think like us. While there are still too many voices that like to shout in polarizing tones, I applaud those religious organizations that have come together to make a strong and clear statement on behalf of all of us who speak more softly, and I applaud the White House for the balance they have sought and found.

Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Remembering Debbie Friedman on the 1st Yarzheit

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

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'?

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

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

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

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

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

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?

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

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

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

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.