I have not lost faith in God. I have moments of anger and protest. Sometimes I’ve been closer to him for that reason.
When we look back on this week, what will we remember? Will it be the death of Elie Wiesel? Will it be a tweet that amplified a right wing meme with a star that was not a sheriff’s star, but an obvious Star of David? Will it be announcements and congressional hearings focusing on the use by one American leader of an e-mail service while she held an office that required privacy and secrecy? Will it be the shooting deaths of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile? Will it be the deaths of Dallas police officers Brent Thompson, Patrick Zamarippa, Michael Krol, Lorne Ahrens and Michael Smith? Will it be the fact that Dallas police were positively monitoring a rally organized on behalf of community members decrying the killings of Sterling and Castile when a lone gunman took it upon himself to sow chaos upon the protesters and police? This week, there is anger, There is protest. There is fear. If anger, protest and fear are to bring us closer to God, we cannot allow those feelings to lead us towards hatred that could result in violence.
I swore never to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation. We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented. Sometimes we must interfere. When human lives are endangered, when human dignity is in jeopardy, national borders and sensitivities become irrelevant. Wherever men and women are persecuted because of their race, religion, or political views, that place must - at that moment - become the center of the universe.
There is suffering and humiliation all around us. We may have trouble, at times, identifying the oppressor or the victim or, in this case, the “good guy” and the “bad guy.” Or, there may be no good guy, and no bad guy, just two people in an encounter which could be cooperative or confrontational. Each citizen, each law enforcement officer, makes that choice. In the Torah reading for this week, Korach rebelled against Moses and Aaron, challenging the elevation of Aaron and his sons to priestly status while Korach, also a Levite and a relative of Aaron, was not satisfied with the holy and important tasks he was charged to fulfill in the worship space. Dathan and Abiram also rebelled by challenging Moses’ right to be a leader at all, seeing that the ultimate goal of entry into the promised land had not yet been reached. These protests reflected arrogance in an attempt to to assert rights rather than to assume a partnership in bearing responsibility. All the Israelites should have been on the same side. And so should we - all of us. There are social boundaries in the United States that may seem like national borders at times. Protection and safety should be a shared enterprise between law enforcement officers and citizens, where we mutually assure security and set aside suspicion because of race, or religion, or political views, or appearance, or supposed social status. And we can only become partners if we talk to each other, get to know each other, and see how our interdependence could enhance the common good.
No human race is superior; no religious faith is inferior. All collective judgments are wrong. Only racists make them.
This is one of Elie Wiesel’s most controversial statements, but it resonates this week. No collective judgment of any group, any people, will help ease tensions in the current situation. And, WE should make no collective judgment in the first place, because we know how it feels to be on the receiving end of such an attitude, where prejudice or misunderstanding can lead to hatred, violence and even death. One element of this week’s tragedies is that certain individuals took it upon themselves to act out of fear, or a need for power or control, or accumulated anger. The humanity of their victims didn’t seem to matter. Losing that human element is a recipe for disaster and tragedy. We, as Americans, as human beings, are better than that, but we can only be better than that if we recognize the divine spark in each person.
The opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it’s indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it’s indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it’s indifference.
The Torah tells us not to stand idly by the blood of our neighbor. That can mean anyone, and not just in our neighborhood, or our city, but in our country, or anywhere in the world. If there are ways to teach people how better to approach each other in difficult situations, where life and death could hang in the balance, let that training happen with a sense of commitment to an improvement in our community. And if there are bridges to be built and programs to be created even through the efforts of regular people, let them take shape if it will mean deescalation of conflict and a retreat from the precipice of chaos.
There are victories of the soul and spirit. Sometimes, even if you lose, you win.
We may feel like we have lost in the wake of tragedies that resulted from unfortunate choices of individuals who were driven by feelings that could not acknowledge the humanity of another person even if just for a moment. What would winning look like? That triumph of the spirit is what Elie Wiesel attempted to accomplish throughout his life. We win when we learn from the past, when we don’t repeat atrocities on a small or large scale, and when we look into the eyes of another person and see a life that deserves a chance to live and thrive. And our work in the world must make living and thriving possible. And if it doesn’t, it is time to speak up.
Hope is like peace. It is not a gift from God. It is a gift only we can give one another.
Perhaps the centrality of loving God and loving our neighbor as ourselves, coupled with prayers and teachings that direct us to work for peace, are, for us, a revolution of responsibility, with hope as its foundation. If we didn’t have hope, why would we work for peace or equality? Why would we combat anti-Semitism and all types of hatred that lead to violent acts? So may we allow the hope inside of us to overcome fear, anger and despair so that our communities will find new ways to create cooperation, shared security and peace. May this be our task, our revolution, and our path along which we will walk with God.
Friday, July 8, 2016
Thursday, June 23, 2016
The World We Want To See - Invocation for Temple Beth-El Las Cruces Board Meeting - June 23, 2016
Eternal One,
We are watching intently events in the world around us
Acts of violence
Wars of words
Conflicts over ideology
In which people try to listen to one another
But their words move past each other as if they were never heard
Or the desire for power and control prevents the possibility
Of mutual understanding.
Is this the world we want to see,
In which a lack of respectful dialogue
Or the absence of a forum for calm expression of personal views
Can lead to frustration
Or anger
Or hatred
Or violence
Or, ultimately, suffering and mourning?
What is the world we want to see?
We want to see a world in which
People will find a way to be
Peaceful and Non-judgmental
Kind and Helpful
Compassionate and balanced;
A world where we are accepting and kind
Generous and caring;
Where differences fall away in the face of the need to be
Embracing and considerate of everyone around us.
We want to see a world in which Your Oneness, O God,
is reflected
in our oneness and unity,
where we acknowledge that there is a spark of You
In every person and in every corner of creation.
We want to see a world in which Your power of healing
will empower us to heal ourselves and family, friends, and neighbors
Wherever they may be
Who are in need of solace, support and comfort
Help us to use our words and our hearts
To make this world
Our world
A world that reflects Your love
And our hope.
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
Invocation - Jewish Federation of Greater El Paso Annual Meeting - June14, 2016
Midrash Genesis Rabbah (100:7) states:
Chavurah u-mishpachah Mach hen domim l'chipat avanim
A community and a family are like a pile of stones
At noteil mimenah even achat v'chulah mit'ro-a-at
If you remove one stone, the pile will collapse.
At noteil aleha even achat v'chulah omedet.
If you add a stone to the pile, it will stand.
Eternal One,
Be with us as we gather to demonstrate who we are
As a combined community
With long-time participants,
Accomplished and insightful leaders with many stories to tell,
And newcomers to the organization
Who may offer fresh perspectives to an already strong foundation
Of wisdom and commitment.
Remind us that we can strengthen the bonds that hold us together
As the rabbis suggested in Genesis Rabbah,
By adding new members into our circle
Who can enhance our collective expertise,
And by broadening our own horizons
Through the connections we make with the entire Jewish world.
Teach us that minor conflicts and even major disagreements
Need not prevent us from joining minds, hands and hearts
To care about Jews wherever they may live,
And to extend our assistance to people in need
Whatever their background may be
When their distress demands that we see their plight and act.
Help us, Loving God, to spread your love at times of celebration
And in moments when individuals commit acts of violence
That disregard the divine spark in every soul.
Help us to be partners in sustaining creation, the human family,
and members of Jewish communities wherever they may be.
May we do this with a generosity of spirit
That will plant seeds of hope everywhere.
Amen.
 |
| Temple Beth-El Las Cruces contingent at the Annual Meeting |
Thoughts shared at the Las Cruces (sponsored by the Las Cruces PFLAG chapter) Candlelight Vigil for the Victims of the Orlando Attack on June 12, 2016
It was a privilege to
attend the Las Cruces Candlelight Vigil on
June 12 for the Victims of the Orlando attack. It was probably the most
diverse gathering of community members I have seen in Las Cruces.
When it was my turn to speak, I
decided not to read the statement from the Reform movement (which was VERY good)
and, instead, talk about being on the front lines when a certain group of
picketers in Topeka began their sign-carrying and appearances around town 25
years ago, and how my name ended up on a sign 22
years ago (F** KAROL with a swastika on the sign), which made appearances all around town in the years following. I spoke of how I was trying, in the days after the sign made its first appearance, to come up with a positive take on the F** word by making it into an acronym
for some meaningful phrase. Fostering Acceptance and Goodness sounded good, but
the Rev. Paul Evans, minister at the Metropolitan Community Church of Topeka
and our Temple keyboard player, suggested, "how about Faithful And
Godly?" In light of this attack, I told the people gathered that
we can remind ourselves, in light of this tragic attack, that faithful and
godly people don't act out of hatred or commit violence, but, instead, they come
together and act based on love (I defined godly as, on some level, "seeing that we
are all connected"!).  |
| Pastor Jared Carson, Peace Lutheran Church |
I noted that, in the statement from Rabbi Jonah Pesner, director of the Reform Movement's Religious Action Center, he said: "On this holiday of
Shavuot, we engage in all night study and reflection of the words and lessons
of Torah. No lesson is more fundamental than that which teaches that the spark
of the Divine is
present in every individual - gay and straight, Jewish,
Christian, and Muslim. In the face of tragedy, let us come together in a
spirit of love and compassion for all and work together to create a nation that
rejects violence and instead celebrates the holiness of every human being."
 |
| Radwan Jallad, Las Cruces Islamic Center |
On the way home from the vigil, my
Friday, June 10, 2016
Counting Everyone In - D'var Torah - Parashat Bamidbar - June 10, 2016
In the beginning of the book of Numbers,God commanded the Israelites to take a census of the people, primarily, the men who could go to war if fighting was necessary.
That was then. This is now.
We don't count just men anymore.
The Jewish people have come a long way forward
with both men and women taking leadership roles
in organizations, in congregations.
In the State of Israel, women have become leaders
in the government, in the armed forces, and in other realms of life.
There is, sadly, one central Jewish ritual still forbidden to women in the eyes of the Orthodox rabbinate.
Earlier this week, on Tuesday morning,
Police saw fit to enforce a rule that women
cannot read from a Torah scroll in the Western Wall Plaza because the Orthodox officials who run the site consider women reading Torah at that place as a "desecration."
Many ancient and medieval rabbinic texts saw “the honor of the community” as applying to men. Women were not counted.
There are texts which encouraged women to take roles in the Torah service and even, in some cases read from the Torah scroll if the opportunity arose.
Such lenient positions did not survive among Orthodox authorities in more recent times. Women do not count and are essentially invisible when it comes to reading Torah in public worship.
Consequently, Lesley Sachs, executive director of Women of the Wall, was detained for carrying a Torah scroll into the Western Wall women’s section for the service for the New month on Tuesday.
Apparently, the Women of the Wall had agreed to refrain from taking a Torah scroll to that site while negotiations were in progress for an agreement to create egalitarian prayer space over the archaeological site near the southwestern corner of the Temple mount. That process of negotiation broke down, giving way to negative statements from government officials and Orthodox officials. A compromise almost admitted that both women and men would count equally, at least in one place near the Western Wall. It didn't happen, at least, not yet. I would not blame Women of the Wall for changing their view of the agreement they had made. They decided that they would not pass up an opportunity to demonstrate their love of Torah in any place or setting.
That was Tuesday.
Then came Wednesday night.
Men, women and children were sitting together in Tel Aviv's Sarona Market, enjoying the moment. Everyone there counted as valuable customers and part of the community.
A terror attack shattered a peaceful evening which those two perpetrators could have enjoyed as well, had they chosen to do so. From the perspective of the staff of the Max Brenner restaurant, when these two men walked in and sat down, they deserved to be treated like everyone else, with kindness and competent service. No one knew what they had in store for everyone there.
In the eyes of the terrorists, no one at the market counted as a person deserving of life and dignity.
They murdered four, wounded many others, and shocked a nation and at least some people in the world who were concerned enough to watch.
These acts of violence make us wonder and ponder. How can anyone do such a thing?
And when it comes to our own attitudes and approaches to community life: How should we, as human beings, count other human beings?
Do they have to be like us?
Do they have to agree with us?
Do they have to believe the way we believe?
Do we treat them with kindness even if they don’t return that kindness?
We are taught to be respectful towards our neighbors and our enemies.
We may not reach that goal at all times, but we try.
We hope that no one will take advantage of our generosity, and our assumption that the respect we show will be returned in kind in the moment.
The acceptance that allowed the two terrorists to sit down at the restaurant without suspicion was lost on them in their single-minded hatred.
The lessons of this week are many, especially based in a notion of not letting down one’s guard when it comes to security.
But another message that can come through loud and clear is that every person of any age, not only in Israel, but everywhere, needs to count in our eyes and hearts.
In Israel, that includes the women who treasure Torah so much that they would like to read from the scroll itself in a public place.
It includes, in Israel, all Jews, Christians and Muslims, some of whom find ways of making common cause towards dialogue and peace.
Tonight’s Torah reading, at its beginning, could have only said that there would be representatives of the tribes to help in taking the Israelite census without giving their names.
But their names WERE included to emphasize that every person, every life has value.
Beginning with our community, may we grant each person an opportunity to be counted as significant.
The rabbis said – There is no person who does not have his or her time and no thing that does not have its place.
Women who read from the Torah in a holy place, these four victims of the latest horrific attack, as well as those who survived, all have names.
And even more, all people in this world deserve to be known by name, accorded respect and dignity and granted the right to be counted and to have a chance develop, throughout a life long on years, a legacy all their own.
Everyone can count if we make it possible.
Thursday, June 9, 2016
Necessarily non-partisan reflections on the 2016 campaign - June 9, 2016
May 30, 2016
I have spent this whole campaign of 2016 refraining from saying/posting anything about a candidate or candidates.
I realize that my "rabbi-ness" connects me to the community and congregation I serve, although I am also a private citizen with views of my own. I refrain from making endorsements due to my position.
Still, I listen to what candidates and their supporters say and watch what they do. And, this year, I am very concerned.
This is not a perfect world with perfect people. People have flaws. People have strengths. People who are leaders or potential leaders may be scrutinized on the basis of how they make decisions, how they approach other people who work with them, how they listen to and respond to their constituents, and how they seek to unite people rather than sow division based on fear (especially if they are running for a public office like POTUS).
I scrutinize candidates for public office, even those whom I might support, by looking at their strengths, weaknesses, their sense of fairness, their potential for team building and bipartisanship, and their fortitude and endurance in the face of challenges and criticism.
And I will continue to do so. I believe that is what I am supposed to do as an American.
June 7, 2016
I have just a little experience speaking both from a prepared text and speaking impromptu/spontaneously. A couple of years ago, I gave my usual prepared sermon on Yom Kippur morning, but I also took the opportunity to add a few comments during the service on the spur of the moment from my head and heart. One congregant came up to me and said, "I like your sermons but I REALLY like when you speak from your heart when you are in the moment." I had to think about that, but it did remind me that I can speak respectfully and meaningfully without a written-out text in front of me. The point is, though, that, either way, the "real me" comes out.
Just because someone uses a prepared text once or twice and sounds more "measured" than he/she does when speaking "in the moment" doesn't mean that the person has changed. I see that as a reflection of someone being inconsistent.
I believe that, ultimately, we hope for consistency in our leaders, whether we agree or disagree with them. And we do want to know who they really are so that we can choose our leaders wisely.
Find yourself a teacher, get yourself a partner for study, see everyone positively - comments on a song marking 35 years in the rabbinate
This past Monday, the 35th anniversary of my rabbinic ordination at Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion came and went. There had been some marking of that milestone at Temple Beth-El of Las Cruces, New Mexico, my current congregation, this past weekend, with a treat after our Shabbat dinner and a cake at a "Songs of 1966" program the next night at which I shared some of the hit songs from the first year that I actually paid attention to "Top 40" radio.
even as you ever yearn to hear the words
I also gave this landmark time in my rabbinate a nod in my annual message to my congregation on May 10, 2016. I used this statement from the Sayings of the Rabbis, Pirkei Avot, by Rabbi Joshua Ben Perachyah as the focus of my remarks, the same saying that I had featured in the essay that accompanied my first official "rabbinic resume" in 1981: "Find yourself a RAV/teacher, and acquire for yourself a study partner/friend/colleague, and judge/view everyone positively (or give everyone the benefit of the doubt)."
What I already knew then, was that I was (and am) someone who likes to share knowledge and important moments in life with community members. That is what rabbis do, but that is what I had always done while growing up at my home Temple in Kansas City (B'nai Jehudah), in my participation in camp programs at the Reform Jewish camps in Wisconsin (OSRUI) and Warwick, New York (National Torah Corps at Kutz Camp in 1970), and at University of Illinois (Champaign-Urbana) Hillel Foundation. I found this as well in my student congregation, Temple B'nai Moshe in LaSalle/Peru, Illinois, where I served for three years before my ordination.
So the first resume led me to Temple Israel of Dayton, Ohio, where I served with Rabbi Irv Bloom and where I met Rhonda Marks, director of Children and Youth Services at the Dayton Jewish Center. Rhonda and I married after my first year in Dayton, in August of 1982. Our journey has taken us to Topeka, Kansas, Dover, New Hampshire and now Las Cruces.
The melody for the Hebrew saying by Rabbi Joshua came to me yesterday (June 8) at the end of a long lunch. As I wrote the verses last night and this morning, I wanted to reflect in a "compact lyric package" the values of sharing, learning from others, compassion, and humility which, I believe, strengthen and deepen relationships in congregational and community life.
The first verse expresses the essence of the first part of Rabbi Joshua's saying:
There is a time to sit and listen
We'll never learn all there is to know
Whenever we share our own wisdom
We'll understand there's always room to grow.
I still feel that there is much room to grow at this point in my career and at age 61. The potential for growth keeps me thinking in a youthful way!
The next verse posed the challenge of getting the last two parts of the saying into four lines, because I felt that two verses would be enough. So, the result was this text:
Side by side, we search with wonder
Accepting every question we may raise
Through compassion, we find the answer
Guide our hearts, God of all our days.
This verses characterizes just about every study session, touring group visits to Temple, and religious school class context in which I have found myself. All questions are in-bounds. The point about compassion as the answer is that the "destination" of study and working together within a community is the development of relationships. "Guide our hearts, God of all our days" is a reference to a Talmudic blessing (Berachot 17a) which ends with declaration (Rabbi Lawrence Kushner's translation): May your lips speak wisdom
and your fulfillment be in righteousnesseven as you ever yearn to hear the words
of the Holy Ancient One of Old.
As a songwriter, what I have found is that I write for myself as an expression of what's inside me. Whether others appreciate what I create or relate to my songs (I do have that hope every time, of course!) isn't as important as just putting my thoughts and feelings into words and melody. I always hope to touch one person, and, in the the spirit of Rabbi Joshua's saying, that one person would become my study partner or, even, potentially, my teacher.
Here is the link to the first performance of "Asei L'cha Rav" from this afternoon, an hour after the song's creation:
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