Erev Rosh Hashanah 5775/2014: Asking for the big things

            Rabbi Simcha Bunem of Pezitcha, the Chasidic master, tells the story of a King’s son who rebelled against his father.  His father exiled him in return.  Time passed, and the King’s compassion for his son awakened and he sent an official to find his son.  After many long searches, the official found the son in a distant city, living barefoot, in tattered clothing, in miserable quarters.  The official bowed before the King’s son and said to him, “I was sent by your father, My Master the King, to ask you what you need, what you want.”  The King’s son began to cry and said, “If it will be favorable to my father the King, could I please have a pair of solid boots that are clean and shiny?”

            Rabbi Simcha Bunam told the story and then taught:  We are the same way.  In our prayers before Our Parent in Heaven we bring small requests, for sustenance, for prosperity, but we do not cry out for God’s Presence that is in exile, and we do not ask for complete redemption.  Our greatest transgression is that we forget we are each the children of a King.(Iturei Torah volume 7, page 10)

           

            Each of us is the son or daughter of a King, and it is more than reasonable for us to ask for basic help from God, especially at this time when God is so close to us, and to our hearts.  As the holiday begins, we are aware that on Shabbat and holidays that we do not make personal requests.  We take out the personal request prayers from the Amidah on these days, but our tradition teaches that we can and we do make requests from God for the entire Jewish people.  Rabbi Yisrael Reisman teaches us this lesson – when we say ‘Zochrenu Le’chayim melech chafetz ba’chayim” – Remember us for life, King-Ruler who desires life – this is a request for our whole people. 

            On Rosh Hashanah, let’s not forget our own needs, our own wants, our own hopes and dreams, but let’s also look to the world with a wide-angle lens.  Let’s expand our prayers to the width of the world, however grandiose these prayers may sound. 

            Let’s pray that God’s Presence stays close with us beyond these Days of Awe and through the year.  Let’s pray that this year the world evolves and achieves at least the first level of redemption, however we choose to envision that step forward – whether peoples and nations choose dialogue and diplomacy over conflict and destruction or we find ways to reduce or eliminate the spread of infectious disease across the world or reduce hunger and homelessness here and abroad.

            On the day that all our prayers are phrased in the ‘we’, what are our most passionate prayers for our communities, for our families, for our country, for our brothers and sisters in Israel? 

            It is time to dream big.  As we discussed at the beginning of Elul, it is time to imagine a year that is not only new in the sense that it is 5775 now instead of 5774.  It is time to imagine a year that is new in its perspective, different in fundamental ways as a result of our prayers and the efforts that result from them.  Let’s not be limited by the models and modes that are routine.  Over the next 2 days we have an amazing opportunity to re-imagine the most complicated challenges, problems, and dilemmas we face as a people, whether concrete, spiritual, or moral.

            Let’s take up this invitation to Rosh Hashanah, the New Year, and all the upcoming days of awe and reflection in the spirit of Shel Silverstein z”l one of my favorite poets:

            If you are a dreamer, come in,

            If you are a dream, a wisher, a liar,

            A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer…

            If you’re a pretender, come sit by my fire

            For we have some flax-golden tales to spin.

            Come in!

            Come in!

Shana Tovah u’metukah!

Dvar Torah - Re'eh: Children of God

Reeh:  Children of God

5774/2014

Yesterday a child came out to wonder

Caught a dragonfly inside a jar

Fearful when the sky was full of thunder

And tearful at the falling of a star

Then the child moved ten times round the seasons

Skated over ten clear frozen streams

Words like when you're older must appease him

And promises of someday make his dreams

And the seasons they go round and round

And the painted ponies go up and down

We're captive on the carousel of time

We can't return we can only look

Behind from where we came

And go round and round and round

In the circle game

Joni Mitchell’s song has always been meaningful to me.  Like Peter Pan, the song wonders about whether growing up is something to look forward to, something to fear, or simply something that is a reality, a reality that we can choose how we live it.  If our life is like a circle, we have a chance to keep the spirit of youthful wonder alive even as we grow older and distant from our earlier selves.

How do we see ourselves?  In relation to earlier ‘versions’ of ourselves? And in relation to God who transcends us and time itself?

With appreciation to my colleague Rabbi Joel Mosebacher who focused on this in a recent teaching, our parsha begins with a word that asks us to consider our perspective on who we are in relation to God and to each other.

‘R’eh anochi noten lifnaychem berachah u’klalah.’ ‘See, I give to all of you blessing and curse.’ 

Something does not match up here.  R’eh is a command form, speaking to an individual, singular, See, notice.  Then, God says, ‘noten lifnaychem’ I put before you, you all, y’all.  Why does God choose to speak to each individual and then to the whole people in the same sentence?

A child tends to see himself or herself less as an individual and more a part of a family, part of the y’all.  Crossing into adulthood, we want, and often struggle, to define ourselves as independent.

In this one short sentence, we hear from God who appreciates, who respects, these two tendencies inside each of us. 

We all try our best to ‘grow up’, to mature, we are always someone’s child, son or daughter to someone whatever the quality of that relationship may be.

As our parsha reminds us, God thinks of us as God’s children, but not in the sense of helpless innocents who need hand-holding, nothing infantilizing like that. 

Later in this week’s parsha we read, “Banim atem L’Ado-nai Elo-heychem.’

“You are children of Ado-nai Your God.”

The Slonimer Rebbe teaches us that we can decide our perspective on being in relationship to God.  We have the power.  Like a grown-up who makes decisions for herself, for himself, we can decide if we respond to God’s call as servants, checking off the boxes of our obligations to God and to one another.  Lit Shabbat candles, check, gave tzedakah, check.  Did my part, now back to the regularly scheduled program.

Or we can live out being ‘Banim’, being children of God, in a loving relationship.  The Slonimer Rebbe explains that if we act like servants, then we’ll receive that treatment in response.  If we act like loving children, in a mutually fulfilling relationship, then we will receive the same love back.  Not only that, we will store away strength and faith in the good times so that when we face pain, we will have resources to respond and a relationship to ground us. 

This is true for us in relationship to ourselves and to other people as well.  If we treat ourselves as an expendable resource, then our physical selves and emotional selves will eventually crumble.  If we find inside of ourselves sources of wonder, if we find a voice and share it, if we do things that shower the world with holiness, if we reach out unexpectedly to our friends, to family, then we hopefully will receive that same love back.  Stephen Covey, in his 7 Habits of Highly Effective people, spoke about how if we do not see or feel love, we should be loving rather than waiting in darkness for love to find us.

This season of forgiveneness, of teshuvah and repentance, is about choosing how we will approach the New Year, choosing our perspective, however difficult that may be in practice versus the theory. 

Shabbat Shalom.

Parshat Masei: Where we've been and where we're going

Dvar Torah:  Masei

Where we've been, and where we’re going.

How many stopping points are there along the way in the journey of the Israelites from Egypt to the Promised Land?

42

In just a slightly less authoritative book than the Bible, Douglas Adams’ Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, the number 42 is, The Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything – a number calculated by a supercomputer over the course of 7.5 million years.  Unfortunately, in that story, no one remembered the ultimate question, and that is the reason for the creation of Earth – the system designed to produce the ultimate question.

There is symmetry here between these two stories of creation, of journeys, of exploration, and of seeking knowledge.  The space between Egypt and the Promised Land is not empty, physically or spiritually.  Along the way the Israelites contend with enemies, with their own flaws, their own desires and weaknesses, and they get to know God, and God gets to know them, to know us. 

Here, at the end of the journey, and looking back, we realize it is only one more stop along the way.  Joshua will lead the people forward and begin the new journey on the western side of the Jordan.

And now, 3 weeks into the war in Israel and Gaza, the journey on the western side of the Jordan continues. 

More than 30 Israeli soldiers have sacrificed their lives in this conflict.  Several civilian casualties on our side.  Many casualties on the other side as well.

And we wonder, where are we in this journey now? 

I attended the rally at Bergen PAC last night, a rally that drew over 2000 community members from the North Jersey Jewish Federation region to Englewood.  It was extraordinary to see the sheer numbers of people there, cheering for Israel.  No signs or slogans demeaning or defaming the Palestinians, but certainly strong words calling for Israel’s security. 

We love and support Israel, but we are American Jews.  Israelis are our family, our friends, and the soldiers are fighting for us as much as for their homeland. 

Since we do not live there – since we do not serve in the army, or police the borders, or patrol Israeli waters or skies, we may be struggling with what we can offer other than our verbal support, our financial support – whether through donations to programs like Stop the Sirens or purchasing goods made in Israel.

I think that proudly and confidently living our Jewish lives here sends a message.  Gathering here at shul, Shabbat activities at home with family and friends, community service work we do, any and all of the 613 mitzvot are designed to link us more closely with God, the Source of Life and Vitality in the Universe, the Source of Strength for us and for Israel.

American Jews have been great at building synagogues and community centers, placing community and faith at the center.  In Israel, we are beginning to see now a trend toward finding the spiritual and faith roots in Judaism that can inform the culturally Jewish and Hebrew speaking society that has grown there over the past 100 years and more.  A good example is Shavuot evening study in Israel, a project that has taken inspiration from current Member of Knesset and Talmud scholar Ruth Calderon.

“Tikkun Leil Shavuot has been gaining popularity in Israel among secular Israelis over the last two decades.  In Tel Aviv, it gained power with the establishment of an alternative Tikkun Shavuot by the Tel-Aviv Alma College, the college for Hebrew culture (founded by Member of Knesset, Dr. Ruth Calderon) in 1996.  Other Tikkun Shavuot events that offer new meaning, relevance, and an opportunity for non-Orthodox Israelis to expand their knowledge on Jewish and Israeli culture, are Kehilat Ha’lev (a musical and spiritual community associated with the Reform movement), and BINA (Center for Jewish Identity and Hebrew Culture, which operates Israel’s first secular Yeshiva).”

This news, this trend, suggests that they, and we too, recognize that we want to create a world that reflects the Jewish values that are most important to us – the Golden Rule, seeking justice, integrity, honesty, a drive for greater knowledge and sensitivity, and more. 

While the pen may not be able to defend the country like the sword, the pen, the mind really, of the Rabbis and of all of us today as Jews and contributors to the Jewish people, is what continues to create the ideas that build on the core values.

This Shabbat we say Chazak chazak venitchazek, God give us strength to continue to read and study the Torah together, as we finish the fourth book of the Torah tomorrow on Shabbat morning. 

May our brothers and sisters in Israel have the strength to fight for the country both on the field of battle and in all the places where ancient wisdom offers modern inspiration, where words in a scroll move us to write words on laptops and tablets, where prayer books are as valuable sources of guidance as Facebook and Twitter – and let us take up this example as well.

And in our search for this meaning – we remember 42 stops along the way to the Promised Land, and the ongoing search for the question, the questions, that animate us all in this crazy, blessed, chaotic and elegantly structured world where by a stroke of God’s creative will, we have a chance to consider these questions in the first place.

Shabbat Shalom.

Matot - The Israel Conflict, Summer 2014

PARSHAT MATOT:  THE ISRAEL CONFLICT, SUMMER 2014

I returned from Israel last Friday morning, a trip to Israel that was different from any other.  Twice in the second week in Jerusalem, the air raid siren blared over all of Jerusalem.  The first time was at night, on my way back from studies at the Hartman Institute.  I ran up Mendele Mocher Sfarim Street to the hotel, and straight downstairs to the basement with everyone in the hotel.  The second time was Thursday afternoon.  Sitting on a street near Ben Yehuda, eating lunch, the siren rang out again and we scurried down the staircase behind a restaurant.

Each time, when the 10-minute waiting period ended, we emerged from hiding to see that Jerusalem is whole, people on the streets, life continues.  But the cities on the coast and inland cannot tell the same story.  Ashkelon, Ashdod, Ber Sheva, Sderot, Tel Aviv and other cities have been under a barrage, a barrage that continued even after Israel, the Arab League, and Mahmoud Abbas signaled acceptance of an Egyptian brokered cease fire.  A very short lived ceasefire did happen and then mortars and rockets from Gaza broke the hudna, the ceasefire, not long afterwards.  Now, IDF soldiers have crossed the border in the south and north of Gaza, to target the tunnels that Hamas terrorists use to operate against Israel and to achieve other strategic goals with the hope of eliminating the capability to strike Israel in the future.

The spirit of our brothers and sisters in Israel is strong, but a constant conflict wears on the soul.  “Im tirtzu ayn zo aggadah”, is what Theodor Herzl said about the mission to re-establish a Jewish homeland, “If you will it, it is not a dream.”  Today, in light of the ongoing conflicts since before May 1948, I think of another poet, Langston Hughes, who asks, “What happens to a dream deferred?”  Our brothers and sisters in Israel have endured and given us strength.  They have kept the dream alive.

As a Jewish community, united in the the face of an ongoing crisis today.  We may yearn for revenge, and for military action to go forward, and also for a resolution and end to the conflict.  With both these impulses, we look to our tradition for guidance. 

And we also look inward, even before we consider politics and diplomacy.  We are now in the three weeks before Tisha B’Av, the day of memory, of mourning the destruction of the Temple and other tragedies of Jewish history.  If ultimately according to the Rabbis it was our own disunity, and causeless enmity between Jewish people, that leads to the destruction of the Temple, we can we learn the lesson today that partnership and unity across all Jewish communities is essential, that we must be rodfay shalom, pursuers of harmony within our own community and amongst Jews of all backgrounds, not only when a crisis in Israel binds us in solidarity but through the times when Yehi ratzon, God willing, there is not a crisis that musters our attention and resources.

The conflict also focuses our attention on issues of power and peace, two of the topics that I along with over 100 rabbis studied for two weeks at the Hartman Institute.  How can we find equilibrium being both the people of ‘Shalom rav al Yisrael…’? Let God make peace for Israel’ and ‘Ado-nai Ish Milchamah’, ‘Our God is a God of War’?  We know that Israel tries more than most to use its military power in a responsible way, and we still hope that nation shall not lift up sword against nation, perhaps that there will not be a reason for swords but other tools. Let’s not forget that even during the fighting hundreds of trucks with humanitarian and other aid from Israel have crossed into Gaza.  We consider Yehudah Amichai’s challenge:  ‘Don’t stop after beating the swords into plowshares, don’t stop!  Go on beating and make musical instruments out of them.  Whoever wants to make war again will have to turn them into plowshares first.’  Now with boots on the ground, my own first reaction is to pray for the safety of our troops.  Sadly, the first soldier casualty occurred yesterday.  Eitan Barak, 20 years old, from Hertzeliyah, zichro livracha.  We cry with his parents.  We cry with the parents of the three boys who were kidnapped and murdered, Eyal, Naftali, and Gilad.  We cry with the parents of Muhammad Abu Qdeir the shanda of Jews murdering this boy. 

We cannot talk about the Israel situation without recognizing the larger context of Middle East politics and conflicts.  The Syria crisis drags on year after year.  Radical groups like ISIS, and Boko Haram in Africa, threaten with their extremist view of Islam.  They slaughter at will, without judges or courts, and their story now is backpage to criticism for Israel for seeking to defend its borders.  Many media outlets and Palestinian or pro-Palestinian activists and writers accuse Israel of brutalities when  in other Arab countries life, democracy of any sort, and general well-being are nonexistent.  In Israel, Arabs can be citizens and receive benefits.  There is admittedly inequality, but they can vote and serve in the Knesset.  In what Arab country in the Middle East do Jews serve in politics?  Why are deaths from Israel’s military more newsworthy or significant or painful that generations of Arabs killing each other, Shiites and Sunni, Alawites, Kurds and more?      

And what does peace mean for Israel, for us?  Is it the messianic peace of the wolf and lamb living together?  Or is it the more structured peace brokered by people, less dramatic than the prophecy, but more realistic, and hopefully attainable?

Tonight, and during these dark and challenging days, the words of Hatikvah ring true, ‘Ayin leTziyon tzofiyah’, our eyes look toward Zion, we cast our eyes and prayers toward Israel.  We search for the strength to stay connected to the people, our family and friends in Israel, and the stories of their lives, triumphs, and struggles though they are so far away.  Let them know they have our full support.  Od lo avdah tikvatenu, we did not lose hope before, and we never will.