Humility and the Art of “We” - Temple Beth-El Las Cruces Annual Meeting Message on May 9, 2019

Message from Rabbi Karol at the 

Temple Beth-El Annual Meeting 

May 9, 2019

Humility and the Art of “We”

Humility. Sometimes it seems that there 

isn’t enough to go around. 

 A culture based on winning, on “who has the most 

toys,” on claiming that some people deserve to be 

built up and some deserve to be put down, doesn’t 

encourage humility....but, Judaism constantly re-

minds us to be humble.

  We recite prayers of confession on Yom Kippur while 

fasting in order to focus on improving ourselves. The 

readings are worded in the plural, “we,” not “I.” We are 

called upon, as members of a congregation worshiping 

together, to apologize for the wrongs we have committed 

and to seek forgiveness. Human beings can grant for-

giveness, but it’s God who pardons us and cleanses us, 

after we have done the right thing. 

 When we sing of peace in every service, we ask God 

to make peace for all of us together, encompassing all 

people who live on the earth. We can do much of the 

work to bring about peace, but praying to God for assis-

tance demonstrates that we know we can’t to it alone.

 And when we speak about the ties that we have in 

common, we talk about “the Jewish people.” We sing 

“Am Yisrael Chai/the People of Israel lives” to declare 

our place in a large, extended family with a long and 

unique history.

Seeing ourselves as part of something greater, and ad-

mitting our limitations, are very Jewish approaches that  guide us on a path of humility.

 During the first week of April, I was with my rabbinic 

collective, the Central Conference of American Rabbis, at  its 130th annual convention held in Cincinnati. In the sessions I attended, I learned about how we can be better community members, how we can increase our respect for  each other, and how we can advocate for people seeking justice because the biblical prophets called on people of  their time, over and over, to do selfless acts that could raise up people who are often or constantly put down. They encouraged their listeners to work together to 

strengthen their relationships and their community. Their  words have meaning for us, as well, in the here and now. 

  I was sorry to miss the volunteer meeting before the 

Jewish Food and Folk Festival this year, which was held while I was in Cincinnati. Of course, I would not have  missed the sixth annual JFFF for anything. It is one of the best examples of the concept of WE in a congregation that I have ever seen. The JFFF came together five years ago by adding to the best practices of past congregational  fundraisers fresh ideas from committee members and volunteers. This event now has a style and character all its own.

   The Jewish Food and Folk Festival, and its partner 

fundraisers, the Matzo Ball Open, A Night at the Auction, and  the Renaissance Faire booth, created a welcoming  spirit among us and in our community. This is a WE accomplishment, because everyone, including planners and  participants, developers and donors, bakers and cooks, marketers and volunteers, made this possible. We ARE amazing, and we all deserve to feel proud. 

   We also deserve to feel proud of our efforts to bring 

community members into our space to grow in knowledge and wisdom. There were candidate forums, a film about Jewish Americans who served in the Armed Forces during World War II, a discussion about antisemitism as it relates to attitudes towards Israel, a series on immigration, an interfaith discussion on freedom and justice, a service and film to put the Holocaust in perspective, and a gathering 

of 180 people to strengthen one another in the immediate aftermath of the shootings at Pittsburgh’s Tree of Life Synagogue.

 We served breakfast at Camp Hope on December 25, 

and donated food to Casa de Peregrinos that was collected during the High Holydays.

We celebrated Shabbat and holidays with our voices 

united in song and prayer, enjoyed each other’s company at Oneg Shabbat receptions, built and decorated and prayed in the Sukkah, and danced with the Torah scrolls and unrolled them on Simchat Torah. We contributed a smorgasbord of latkes and brought our Chanukiot to light on the Shabbat during Chanukah, creating our own special communal glow. We planted a tree on Tu Bish’vat and cheered - or, I should say, booed - as Haman met his demise, once again, in the Purim Spiel. We heard our Religious School students recite the four questions and engage in a harder than usual Afikoman search as 72 people shared the Temple Seder, sponsored by Sisterhood. 

Some of us made our way to El Paso this past Sunday to add music, dance, information and spirit as our two communities celebrated Israel’s 71 years as a state.

 We pondered the essence of leadership in several spe-

cially designed programs and shared our individual and collective insights in discussions on short stories and sacred texts. We intently and proudly watched and listened as the history of Temple Beth-El came to life onstage on October 7. We tested our gaming skills as BETY/BEMY offered us an opportunity to simply sit and be together to play our games of choice, which happened, as it turned out, just hours after the shootings at the Tree of Life Synagogue.

   Rhonda has always told me that, while working at the Dayton Jewish Center, she learned that it was her job as a member of the Center professional staff to support the lay leaders and volunteers in their work, whether as an out-front partner or as a strong, nurturing presence behind the scenes. Sometimes the nature of the WE manifests itself with certain individuals being more visible than others, 

but we know that a strong WE takes the enthusiasm, ingenuity, talents, and involvement of every single person that  comprises a group or a committee or a whole community. 

    My service to this congregation as rabbi has always 

been about being a part of the WE of TBE. An Adelante Newsletter looks good because of all that we do that infusesour Temple life with content. A class or study group, a community program, and even a worship service is as good as the willingness of the leader/facilitator and the participants, together, to enhance and strengthen each other’s contributions in word, in thought, in spirit, and, sometimes, in song. Being part of the WE of TBE means that every 

single one of us has something to add to who we are and who we can be; but it also means that each of us is part of a team, an extended family right here within these walls, that can do great things when we put our minds and hearts together. Our strength emerges not only from our creative prowess but also from our humble, sincere, and selfless service to this holy community. 

   There are, in this space, of course, a variety of opinions regarding how Temple Beth-El will approach challenges in the coming months and years. My own involvement in a mutual and respectful decision-making process with the Board of Trustees to begin to chart that course yielded my signature on a letter sent to Temple members. Just about anything that has happened in my rabbinate has been like a door that has opened to a new experience. The Temple leadership has assured that the connection between the Karols and this congregation will remain real and strong for years to come, even after my retirement. That offers us an 

opportunity to continue to humbly get to know one another in a new way. 

   I believe that the best way to move into the future is to take positive and optimistic steps forward, but I am not only speaking about Rhonda and me. It is about all of us. We have been working, studying, praying, planning, hosting, meeting, laughing, singing and leading together on the Board, in classes and community events, in committee work, and in one-to-one conversations over these last eight years. There is more for us to consider and to accomplish. . There is much good left to do.

 Many thanks to Ellen Torres, our Temple president, as 

she concludes her dedicated service in this capacity of leadership. . To all of my partners on the Board of Trustees, in the Temple choir, on committees, in our Religious School among both parents and students, in the Mensch Club, Sisterhood, and BETY/BEMY, and to all of you with whom I have worked and shared here at Temple, thank you for your partnership. To Adam, Rabbi Juli and Josh, thank you for 

your support from afar which enables me to keep my sense of humor and a proper perspective on what I do.

 And to Rhonda, thank you for your love, wisdom and 

support over these 38 years that have always kept me focused on the significance of what I do, and what we do together, to try to make a positive difference in the 

world. And so I offer these words based on verses 

from Psalm 67 to send us forward with confidence and 

hope:

“May the Eternal One be gracious to us and bless 

us, and may the divine face shine and smile upon all of 

us, so that God’s presence will envelop us all in love 

and peace.”

Raising our voices in crucial moments - D’var Torah - Parashat Emor - May 17, 2019

Speak. 

As the Torah reading for this week begins, God told Moses, EMOR, speak to the priests to offer them instruction on preserving holiness among the people.  

   I decided a long time ago that EMOR can also mean to “speak out,” to raise a voice when there is a need for personal evaluation and improvement. 

   In one of the first sermons I gave on this parashah nearly 30 years ago, I told a Bat Mitzvah to speak out at times when her peers allowed their relationships to deteriorate to the point of being based only on gossip, hostility and bullying.  After my conversations with her before her special day about what went on in school, it was an important message to deliver at her service, especially with her peers sitting right there. 

     Now, in 5779, I focus on what I consider to be my favorite part of this portion, the holiday calendar in Leviticus Chapter 23, and I think about the lessons that our festivals teach us here and now. 

      This section of Leviticus begins, “These are My fixed times, the fixed times of the Eternal, which you shall proclaim as sacred occasions.” 

     In this passage, the “sacred” part did have to do, primarily, with performing the appropriate rituals for each holiday. 

      I believe there is much more to consider. 

     Shabbat reminds us that we, like God, are creators, and that we need to take time to reflect on the lives we are leading and what we are contributing to the world and to the people closest to us.   It is important for us to take our responsibilities and our actions seriously at every moment.  

      The festival of Pesach recalls when the Israelites were freed by Pharaoh.   That experience calls on us to work for the freedom for all people, to fulfill the words of Emma Lazarus: “Until we are all free, we are none of us free.” 

      The feast of Unleavened Bread, CHAG HAMATZOT, refers to the initial Exodus from Egypt.   The Israelites hurriedly made bread that did not rise. Matzah came to  signify the need to preserve the freedom that we have with dedication and wisdom, sometimes using our own hands to do so. 

       The OMER period was a counting of seven weeks beginning with the second day of the feast of Unleavened bread.  It offered our ancestors a time to give thanks for the coming barley harvest.  That observance was their way of showing gratitude for the opportunity to work the land and to produce food for themselves and their communities.  And it offers one of the best examples from the Torah of optimism, because the ritual of marking each new day of the seven week period involved counting up rather than counting down.  

      The fiftieth day, the culmination of the barley harvest, was a celebration of the human-divine partnership in coordinated creation of life-giving crops.   Tied to this observance, which we now call Shavuot, the Torah states: “And when you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap all the way to the edges of your field, or gather the gleanings of your harvest; you shall leave them for the poor and the stranger: I the Eternal am your God.”   Assisting people in need demonstrated the gratitude of the people for, what they believed, God had provided them. 

     What used to be the seventh month on the Jewish calendar, now the first month of the year, began with a day of blasts on a shofar that would prepare the people for a time of self-denial on the tenth day, YOM HAKIPURIM, the day of atonement.    Those days, even in ancient times, directed the people to  heal their relationships with each other and with God.   Striving to live a moral life was important, even then, for each person and for the community as a whole. 

       The feast of SUKKOT, with the commandment to live in booths for seven days, recalled the years-long march of the Israelites fully-realized freedom.  It signified their closeness to and their dependence on the natural world, as well as their need for security and protection. Sukkot taught our ancestors to appreciate all that God had given them: this earth, their families and communities, and their very lives. 

      What follows this recounting of the festival calendar is a second reference in the Torah to kindling lamps regularly, using the familiar words, NEIR TAMID. 

      At this time in our history, I believe that the light we offer, as members of the worldwide Jewish community, reflects the values that we have given to the world through our celebrations:  freedom and its preservation; appreciation of the natural world; optimism; caring for people in need; doing our best to assure that our actions are moral and godly; and providing each other with security and support as fellow citizens of this planet that we call our home.  

     And so, when we see anyone jeopardizing the freedom of others, sometimes claiming that only their freedom matters; when we sense that some people are proposing strategies and policies that might harm the fragile balance of the natural world; when caring for people in need is near the bottom of a list of communal priorities; and when treating each other with decency and respect seems to no longer matter, it is time to speak up and raise our voices....because, based on the principles embodied in the festivals we celebrate, it has been, and always will be, the Jewish thing to do.   May this be our task and our mission in the days to come.   

   

      

    

Striving for Holiness in a Holy Land - a meditation for Israel's 71 years (that can apply to all of us) based on Leviticus 19

A Meditation for Israel’s 71 years

based on Leviticus 19

May our striving to be holy, like God,

Enable all people to see the divine image in themselves

and in neighbors of all faiths, all backgrounds,

and to realize that their fate and future

are intricately bound one to another

in a sea of potential holiness.

May parents teach children to explore

inside and outside of their immediate community

So that their understanding of the people who live

near and around them

Will unfold in a way that will lead to cooperation,

commonality, and hope.

May people extend their hands to those in need,

Leaving the corners of their hearts open

to the feelings of having been a stranger, a newcomer,

or the experience of being a person struggling to make ends meet as a new arrival,

or the struggle to seek full acceptance as a member of society.

May relations among all citizens be based on honesty,

dialogue, and facing conflict head-on in order

to produce progress that could benefit everyone in the land.

Under a vast shelter of holiness, may people keep their eyes open

to see one another as a human beings

and keep their ears inclined to hear calls for improvement in the quality of life

that could benefit entire communities.

May holy words that are spoken in the land

inspire the sharing of opinions and information based on truth and forthrightness.

May violence, grudge-bearing and a desire for revenge

be channeled towards a new destination

Through a retelling of personal stories

that could become part of a shared narrative

To be recounted again and again. 

May a vision of holiness guide the land’s inhabitants to strive

to love one another as themselves

now and for the generations to come. 

Invocation, Remarks and Benediction at the White Sands Missile Range event celebrating Jewish Contributions to American Life on May 9, 2019

Invocation - Jewish Contributions to American Life event at 

White Sands Missile Range - May 9, 2019 

Eternal God, 

Creator and Sustainer of us all,

We join together in this space, 

To share a meal, to create community, 

And to show appreciation for our freedom 

That has allowed so many people 

From so many places 

And from so many cultural and religious backgrounds 

To make significant contributions to American life. 

The support offered and arranged by Haym Solomon 

To enable the new United States to sustain a path to victory

In the Revolutionary War demonstrated his steadfast commitment to freedom. 

With the timeless words of her poem,  The New Colossus, 

Which is intricately linked to the Statue of Liberty, 

Emma Lazarus declared that the United States presented

A world-wide welcome to all who would come to our country

To add to our nation their wisdom, energy, abilities and courage. 

Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel, who came to live in the United States well after World War II and who won the Nobel Peace prize in 1986, reminded us of the essence of our constant quest for liberty when he said,  “As long as one dissident is in prison, our freedom will not be true. As long as one child is hungry, our life will be filled with anguish and shame. What all these victims need above all is to know that they are not alone; that we are not forgetting them, that when their voices are stifled we shall lend them ours, that while their freedom depends on ours, the quality of our freedom depends on theirs.” 

As we share this meal, with civilians, with members of the armed forces who defend our freedom, all of us who have come today, 

May the words of this Jewish blessing for a meal remind us to be partners, as human beings are God’s partners, not only in making bread, but in providing bread and kindness to those in need: 

Blessed are You, our Eternal God, Ruler of the Universe, who brings forth bread from the earth.

ברוך אתה יי אלוהינו מלך העולם המוציא לחם מן הארץ

 Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech Ha-olam hamotzi lechem min ha-aretz. 

REMARKS

During my years growing up in Kansas City, Missouri, my life was very similar to my neighbors and classmates. I did go to Temple instead of church, but, like most everyone else, I watched the Three Stooges, The Twilight Zone, and Star Trek, and the annual network television screening of “The Wizard of Oz.”  My comic book of choice was Superman, which I did watch on television, along with the original Batman series.   I listened to a “Top 40” radio station, where I heard songs like “Sweet Caroline,” “Soul and Inspiration,” “Pleasant Valley Sunday,” “Do Wah Diddy,” “Mr. Tambourine Man” and “Bridge Over Troubled Water.”    And there was an ABC Monday night movie starring Dennis Weaver called “Duel” that was unnerving and even terrifying, as a man was pursued on isolated roads by an anonymous truck driver.  

  As the years went by, I began to discover more about who was responsible for those comics, movies, songs, and television shows.   

    Moses Horowitz, Samuel Horowitz, Louis Feinberg, and Jerome Horowitz were better known as Moe, Shemp, Larry and Curly - the Three Stooges, young Jewish men who started their act in 1922 and concluded in 1970

     The Twilight Zone’s Jewish creator Rod Serling presented, in 1961, an early treatment of the Holocaust in the episode, “Death’s Head Revisited,” when a former SS officer visited the Dachau concentration camp, only to be haunted by the ghosts of those whom he had murdered there.   

   Leonard Nimoy, when asked what might make a suitable greeting for his Vulcan character in Star Trek, Mr. Spock,  held up his hand to form the Hebrew letter SHIN,  standing for Shaddai, meaning God almighty. It was a hand gesture which he saw as a boy in his Boston synagogue when men offered the ancient priestly blessing at a special point in worship. 

  Joe Shuster and Jerry Siegel, both Jewish, created Superman, the ultimate immigrant from a far away planet who had unimaginable powers because of his birth, and who sought to make the world a better place with his great strength and wisdom.   Some say that Superman’s given  name on his home planet Krypton, KAL-EL, might be based on a Hebrew phrase that means “Voice of God.”   Robert Kahn, who became Robert Kane, partnered with Milton/Bill Finger to create Batman.  Joe Simon and Jacob Kirtzberg/Jack Kirby created the beloved Captain America.  Stanley Leiber, or Stan Lee, was a creative leader at Marvel Comics.    Simon, Kirby and Lee were all World War II veterans. It is not surprising that Superman, Batman, Captain America and also Wonder Woman were all dedicated to fighting Nazis in the comics, some of them before the United States had officially entered the war. 

       I eventually discovered that a generation of Jewish songwriters wrote some of the memorable music I enjoyed on the radio:  Neil Diamond, Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil, Jeff Barry and Ellie Greenwich, Gerry Goffin and Carole King, Bob Dylan and Paul Simon. And the featured song of “The Wizard of Oz,” “Over the Rainbow,” was written by Harold Arlen, a cantor’s son from Buffalo,  and Yip Harburg, the son of Eastern European Jewish immigrants from the Lower East Side of New York City.  Both of them were, perhaps giving their Jewish perspective on the type of place they hoped America and the world could be. 

     And that TV movie, “Duel,” that I watched in my dorm room on a 13 inch screen was directed by Steven Spielberg.  In the early 1990s, Spielberg moved from his work on the blockbuster “Jurassic Park” directly to the poignant film about the rescue of Jews during the Holocaust, “Schindler’s List.” Spielberg later created a foundation to record the testimony of survivors of the Holocaust so that their stories could be told for generations to come.  

    The Three Stooges and the Marx Brothers created a foundation for the comedic work of Woody Allen, Mel Brooks, Billy Crystal, Larry David, Jerry Seinfeld, Adam Sandler, and Sarah Silverman.    Sandler and Silverman both grew up in, of all places, Manchester, New Hampshire, and Silverman’s sister Susan is one of my Reform rabbinic colleagues.   Ed Asner, “Lou Grant” of the Mary Tyler Moore show, grew up in my hometown of Kansas City.   There are many reasons for American Jews to be in comedy.  It is probably due to our ability to laugh at ourselves and to discover humorous aspects of the world around us. Believe me, there is limitless material out there.  Sometimes, comedy was, and still is, a way of outwitting those who hate us. 

     One more thing - you have probably heard of Hank Greenberg, who nearly broke Babe Ruth’s home run record in 1938 as a member of the Detroit Tigers.  Or Sandy Koufax, who had an amazing career as a pitcher with the Dodgers. But have you heard of Alex Bregman of the Houston Astros, who was recently featured in a Sports Illustrated article that included a photo of him with his rabbi and cantor on the day he became Bar Mitzvah at age 13 at his Albuquerque, New Mexico congregation? 

    Packing so much information into six minutes is a challenge.  I want to give the last word to author Thomas Cahill. In his book, THE GIFTS OF THE JEWS, he credited the Jewish people for providing humanity with a sense of obligation to improve ourselves and our world. Doing justice and loving mercy and compassion offer us a way to be humble, to walk with God, and to cooperate with one another. God's spirit could be in each of us, not just in great leaders and prophets. Cahill suggested that the message of the Bible is that in choosing to do what is right, we are never more alive. Most of our best words, Cahill concluded, are gifts of the Jews, words like new, unique, individual, person, vocation or calling; time, history, future; freedom, progress, spirit; faith, hope, and justice.

     It all sounds like a job for Superman or Batman or Captain America, but, truly, WE have the power to reach all of those goals if we work together as partners to make a positive difference to preserve our precious and amazing world. 

BENEDICTION

God of all people, 

Author of Freedom, 

Our companion and guide, 

Be with us as we go out into the world today

To work for justice, to maintain our liberty, 

To engender partnership, compassion and love. 

Strengthen our resolve to preserve our sense of unity

And to discovered anew what binds us together: 

We conclude with this prayer for our nation from 

Reform Judaism’s MISHKAN T’FILAH

Prayerbook, 

O GUARDIAN of life and liberty, 

may our nation always merit Your protection. 

Teach us to give thanks for what we have 

by sharing it with those who are in need. 

Keep our eyes open to the wonders of creation, 

and alert to the care of the earth. 

May we never be lazy in the work of peace; 

may we honor those who have died in defense of our ideals. 

Grant our leaders wisdom and forebearance. 

May they govern with justice and compassion 

Help us all to appreciate one another, 

and to respect the many ways that we may serve You. 

May our homes be safe from affliction and strife, 

and our country be sound in body and spirit. Amen. 

Invocation for Temple Beth-El Las Cruces Annual Meeting - May 9, 2019

Invocation - TBE Annual Meeting - May 9, 2019

Holy One of Blessing, 

Source of wisdom, 

Wellspring of compassion, 

Be with us as we join together as a community

To celebrate our accomplishments,

To strengthen our common ties, 

To reinvigorate our souls for the months to come. 

Enliven our mutual curiosity towards one another

As we explore what motivates us to serve,

To evaluate, to sustain past commitments, 

And to generate new ideas borne out of wisdom and creativity

and to implement thoughtful additions to our communal life 

In the context of clearly developed and maintained fellowship and partnership. 

Through all that we do on behalf of Temple Beth-El, 

May we honor founders, leaders, and long-time members, 

Teachers, students, and new arrivals

Parents, grandparents, and children,

In the words of the rabbis,

May we find among one another 

Guides and colleagues, 

Fellow travelers and friends,

People with whom we can share our joys 

From whom we will enrich ourselves with new knowledge 

And in whom we will find comfort in times of sadness. 

Eternal One, may you bless us as we come here

And continue to bless us and be with us as we go forth into the world

As we continue to add the gifts of our heritage

To the greater community. 

Message for Temple Beth El Las Cruces Annual Meeting - May 9, 2019

Humility. 

Sometimes it seems that there isn’t enough to go around. 

A culture based on winning, on “who has the most toys,” on claiming that some people deserve to be built up and some deserve to be put down, doesn’t encourage humility....but, Judaism constantly reminds us to be humble. 

     We recite prayers of confession on Yom Kippur while fasting in order to focus on improving ourselves.  The readings are worded in the plural, “we,” not “I.”    We are called upon, as members of a congregation worshiping together, to apologize for the wrongs we have committed and to seek forgiveness.  Human beings can grant forgiveness, but it’s God who pardons us and cleanses us, after we have done the right thing.  

     When we sing of peace in every service, we ask God to make peace for all of us together,  encompassing all people who live on the earth.    We can do much of the work to bring about peace, but praying to God for assistance demonstrates that we know we can’t to it alone. 

     And when we speak about the ties that we have in common, we talk about “the Jewish people.” We sing “Am Yisrael Chai- the People of Israel lives” to declare our place in a large, extended family with a long and unique history.   

    Seeing ourselves as part of something greater, and admitting our limitations, are very Jewish approaches that guide us on a path of humility. 

   During the first week of April, I was with my rabbinic collective, the Central Conference of American Rabbis, at its 130th annual convention held in Cincinnati.   In the sessions I attended,  I learned about how we can be better community members, how we can increase our respect for each other, and how we can advocate for people seeking justice because the biblical prophets called on people of their time, over and over, to do selfless acts that could raise up people who are often or constantly put down.  They encouraged their listeners to work together to strengthen their relationships and their community.  Their words have meaning for us, as well, in the here and now.  

    I was sorry to miss the volunteer meeting before the Jewish Food and Folk Festival this year that was held while I was in Cincinnati. Of course, I would not have missed the sixth annual JFFF for anything.  It is one of the best examples of the concept of WE in a congregation that I have ever seen.  The JFFF came together five years ago by adding to the best practices of past congregational fundraisers fresh ideas from committee members and volunteers.  This event now has a style and character all its own. 

    The Jewish Food and Folk Festival, and its partner fundraisers, the Matzo Ball Open, A Night at the Auction, and the Renaissance Faire booth, created a welcoming spirit among us and in our community.  This is a WE accomplishment, because everyone, including planners and participants, developers and donors, bakers and cooks, marketers and volunteers, made this possible.   We ARE amazing, and we all deserve to feel proud.   

     We also deserve to feel proud of our efforts to bring community members into our space to grow in knowledge and wisdom.  There were candidate forums, a film about Jewish Americans who served in the Armed Forces during World War II, a discussion about antisemitism as it relates to attitudes towards Israel, a series on immigration, an interfaith discussion on freedom and justice, a service and film to put the Holocaust in perspective, and a gathering of 180 people to strengthen one another in the immediate aftermath of the shootings at Pittsburgh’s Tree of Life Synagogue. 

   We served breakfast at Camp Hope on December 25, and donated food to Casa de Peregrinos that was collected during the High Holydays.   

    We celebrated Shabbat and holidays with our voices united in song and prayer, enjoyed each other’s company at Oneg Shabbat receptions, built and decorated and prayed in the Sukkah, and danced with the Torah scrolls and unrolled them on Simchat Torah.  We contributed a smorgasbord of latkes and brought our Chanukiot to light on the Shabbat during Chanukah, creating our own special communal glow.   We planted a tree on Tu Bish’vat and cheered - or, I should say, booed -  as Haman met his demise, once again, in the Purim Spiel.  We heard our Religious School students recite the four questions and engage in a harder than usual Afikoman search as 72 people shared the Temple Seder, sponsored by Sisterhood.   Some of us made our way to El Paso this past Sunday to add music, dance, information and spirit as our two communities celebrated Israel’s 71 years as a state.

   We pondered the essence of leadership in several specially designed programs and shared our individual and collective insights in discussions on short stories and sacred texts.  We intently and proudly watched and listened as the history of Temple Beth-El came to life onstage on October 7.  We tested our gaming skills as BETY/BEMY offered us an opportunity to simply sit and be together to play our games of choice, which happened, as it turned out, just hours after the shootings at the Tree of Life Synagogue. 

    Rhonda has always told me that, while working at the Dayton Jewish Center, she learned that it was her job as a member of the Center professional staff to support the lay leaders and volunteers in their work, whether as an out-front partner or as a strong, nurturing presence behind the scenes.    Sometimes the nature of the WE manifests itself with certain individuals being more visible than others, but we know that a strong WE takes the enthusiasm, ingenuity, talents, and involvement of every single person that comprises a group or a committee or a whole community.  

   My service to this congregation as rabbi has always been about being a part of the WE of TBE.   An Adelante Newsletter looks good because of all that we do that infuses our Temple life with content.  A class or study group, a community program, and even a worship service is as good as the willingness of the leader/facilitator and the participants, together, to enhance and strengthen  each other’s contributions in word, in thought, in spirit, and, sometimes, in song.    

    Being part of the WE of TBE means that every single one of us has something to add to who we are and who we can be, but it also means that each of us is part of a team, an extended family right here within these walls, that can do great things when we put our minds and hearts together.   Our strength emerges not only from our creative prowess but also from our humble, sincere, and selfless service to this holy community.  

    There are, in this space, of course, a variety of opinions regarding how Temple Beth-El will approach challenges in the coming months and years.  My own involvement in a mutual and respectful decision-making process with the Board of Trustees to begin to chart that course yielded my signature on a letter sent to Temple members.  Just about anything that has happened in my rabbinate has been like a door that has opened to a new experience.  The Temple leadership has assured that the connection between the Karols and this congregation will remain real and strong for years to come, even after my retirement.    That offers us an opportunity to continue to humbly get to know one another in a new way.  

    I believe that the best way to move into the future is to take positive and optimistic steps forward, but I am not only speaking about Rhonda and me.  It is about all of us.  We have been working, studying, praying, planning, hosting, meeting, laughing, singing and leading together on the Board, in classes and community events, in committee work, and in one-to-one conversations over these last eight years.    There is more for us to consider and to accomplish.  There is much good left to do. 

     Many thanks to Ellen Torres, our Temple president, as she concludes her dedicated service in this capacity of leadership.  To all of my partners on the Board of Trustees, in the Temple choir, on committees, in our Religious School among both parents and students, in the Mensch Club, Sisterhood and BETY/BEMY,  and to all of you with whom I have worked and shared here at Temple, thank you for your partnership.  To Adam, Rabbi Juli and Josh, thank you for your support from afar which enables me to keep my sense of humor and a proper perspective on what I do.   

     And to Rhonda, thank you for your love, wisdom and support over these 38 years that have always kept me focused on the significance of what I do, and what we do, together, to try to make a positive difference in the world.  

    And so I offer these words based on verses from Psalm 67 to send us forward with confidence and hope: 

      “May the Eternal One be gracious to us and bless us, and may the divine face shine and smile upon all of us, so that God’s presence will envelop us all in love and peace.” 

And let us say Amen. 

      

    

Remarks at Holocaust Remembrance Service at Temple Beth-El Las Cruces on May 1, 2019

   At the El Paso Holocaust Museum and Study Center Holocaust commemoration this past Sunday held at Temple Mount Sinai, they showed photos and read names of Holocaust survivors who have lived in our two communities.   They mentioned Nathan and Lea Weiselman, who both died a number of years ago after making a great impact on our community, and, also, Helen Gluck, who still lives here in Las Cruces.   Helen is a survivor of Auschwitz who, when she went back to her home in Czechoslovakia after the war, knocked on the door and was greeted with contempt by the new inhabitants, who told her that Hitler didn’t go a good enough job if she was still alive.   She went to a Displaced Persons camp, where she met her husband-to-be Morris Gluck. Morris’ brother Bernard already owned a clothing store on Main Street here in Las Cruces at that time.  Eventually, Helen and Morris found their way here and made Las Cruces home. 

   We gather tonight in the aftermath of an unfortunate continuation of the hatred that the Nazis turned into systematic murder and genocide.   The shootings at the Chabad Center in Poway, California and Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh were perpetrated by individuals whose ideas echo the very antisemitism that was institutionalized in Nazi Germany.  These attackers dehumanized, in their minds, the good people praying in those two Jewish congregations.  The recent attacks on mosques in Christchurch, New Zealand and the churches in Sri Lanka on Easter Sunday demonstrate a horrifying cascade of hatred and dehumanization turned into bloodshed.   One hatred seems to feed another. 

    But so can love and understanding cascade among us.   Holocaust Remembrance services were, for a long time, Jewish community gatherings.  The creation of State Holocaust Commissions, the United States Holocaust Memorial Council, and the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum reminds us that antisemitism is often at the core of a wide-ranging ideology that threatens more than Jewish communities, because it can lead to disdain and prejudice against almost anyone who is different than the majority.  

    That is why we must learn from and with each other, listen to each other, and allow our spirits to become one.   May this time tonight draw us closer to the One who created us, who sustains our lives, and who gives us love, strength, blessing and hope.    

The greatest ‘revenge’ lies in changing a person’s heart - Column for Las Cruces Bulletin on May 3, 2019

       The cycle of reading from the Torah, Genesis through Deuteronomy, in synagogues around the world will soon bring to light the biblical proclamation of the Golden Rule, “Love your neighbor as yourself.”   That same verse declares, “Do not take vengeance or bear a grudge against your fellow human being.” 

        I have been thinking lately about Revenge: A Story of Hope, a book by journalist Laura Blumenfeld, that was published in 2002.  

        The Middle East looks quite different now than it did in 2002. There are new leaders, new policies, and new alliances. What hasn’t changed is the need for people to directly and positively relate to one another, even when they stand firmly on different sides of a seemingly intractable conflict. 

         In her book, Laura Blumenfeld explained how she set out in 1998 to find the man who shot her father, Rabbi David Blumenfeld, in March of 1986. Laura’s father was standing in an alley of the Old City of Jerusalem, when someone shot a bullet at his head that, fortunately, only grazed his scalp. Her father didn’t die from his wound, but Laura was still haunted by this violent act against a member of her family. She felt that it was her responsibility to seek out the attacker and confront him. 

       Blumenfeld began to explore the emotions and actions that are related to the human desire for revenge. She noted that both sides in a conflict often try to claim the role as sole victims who feel that they have the right of lashing out and evening the score. 

       She spoke to Benjamin Netanyahu (the current Israeli Prime Minister) about the killing of his brother Yoni when he led Israeli troops in a 1976 raid on the Entebbe, Uganda airport to rescue American and Israelis Jews held hostage by a group of hijackers. She was amazed that neither Benjamin Netanyahu, nor his brother Iddo, sought revenge in a personal way against the hijackers.

     Blumenfeld realized that reconciliation can happen mainly when people move from the collective – the larger group with which they identify – down to the personal, one-on-one level. 

      Once she discovered the identity of her father’s assailant, she began to visit his family in Ramallah, introducing herself only as “Laura” from America. She began a correspondence with the shooter, Omar Khatib. Their letters focused on politics and the conditions in which Omar had lived. Blumenfeld began to share with Khatib details about her father without telling Khatib that she was the daughter of his 

victim. 

      What Laura Blumenfeld learned was that the greatest revenge she could have was to change the heart of the perpetrator, making him realize the personal nature of his act. 

      She helped Omar Khatib see that he had injured a man who was trying to work for peace. At the end of the book, Laura appeared in court on Khatib’s behalf and revealed to the court and the shooter’s family that she was the daughter of the man he had attacked. 

     Rather than being angry, Khatib and all of the members of his family were touched by Laura’s humanity. Omar Khatib sent a sincere letter of apology to David Blumenfeld, in which he said that Laura “was the mirror that made me see your face as a human person who deserved to be admired and respected.”

        Sometimes, revenge can be transformed into respect.  It’s all up to us.