The Day that the Eternal One has made - Every Day! - Column for Temple Beth-El Las Cruces Adelante Newsletter for July, 2017

ZEH HAYOM ASAH ADONAI - NAGILAH V’NIS’M’CHAH VO - This is the day that the Eternal One has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.”    This verse from Psalm 118 applies to most any important day in our lives.   Rhonda and I included this text on the invitation to our congregation for our son Adam’s B’rit Milah in March of 1986.   I referred to this verse from Psalms in the eulogy for my mother in May of 2006 to characterize how she approached her life, treating every day as an opportunity to do something special for and make an impact on her community.  

      Rhonda and I witnessed yet another “ZEH HAYOM” event on June 8 at the B’rit Milah of Joshua Moise Karol.  It was important that this tradition continued for yet another generation of our family.   What was also special was that some of the friends and family gathered for this ceremony at Congregation Rodeph Sholom in New York City had also been present at past simchahs for Juli and for Adam.    A photo was taken on June 8 that was similar to one from the wedding weekend in February, 2015 of six of us: Rhonda and me,  Adam and Juli, and Juli’s parents, Steve and Nancie Schnur.  This new picture, however, included one more person who is just beginning his life’s journey.  We hope to see this “young man” grow not only in texted photos and on FaceTime but also in person as much as possible.  

      Recently, while working on a project of locating all of our personal documentation for the renewal of our New Mexico driver’s licenses later this year, Rhonda and I had an opportunity to rediscover and explore the necessary materials stored in their appropriate envelopes.   Not only was there my birth certificate from the State of Missouri, but there was also the Jewish certificate related to my 8th-day ceremony.  My bar mitzvah certificate (from 50 years ago) and Rhonda’s Confirmation certificate from 1970 are still there.  We found our Ohio marriage license from 1982.  Its Jewish counterpart is on our wall, our wedding Ketubah crafted by Dayton, Ohio friend and artist Joan Marcus. 

      Documents - both Jewish and secular - and photographs chronicle our lives.  They illustrate the stories we tell about our own beginnings and upbringing.   Sometimes the documents take on an unusual form.  One day when I was visiting my dad’s brother, Harry, he began talking about family history.   I began writing notes on store receipts that I happened to have in my wallet.   I found those notes again in the last few days.  They recorded stories that my uncle told me that day that I have shared with some of my cousins, including an account of how our ancestors helped one another find their way to America.

     Knowledge of my family history also enabled me to recognize the name of a “real relative” who was identified as one of my “DNA relatives” on a well-known ancestry website (his great-grandmother and my Dad’s mother were sisters).  I wrote him a note to make the connection.  He said of our common ancestors in his response: “I hear they were both very strong women!” 

     In just one sentence, a story was told. An aspect of character was memorialized, one that confirmed what I had heard as well.    Whenever we share these impressions, anecdotes and stories, the past comes alive (whether in families or in congregations) and is preserved so that new tales can be told in the years to come.

     As Rhonda and I each held our new grandson, we had a chance to look him in the eyes and to see him gaze right back.   Perhaps what he sees in our eyes will be something he will articulate later in his life.  What we saw in his eyes was all that he represents: a tribute to the past with his arrival, a source of joy for the present, and beacon of hope for the future.  We wish for him and his parents- as we wish for everyone of any age - many days on which to say, “This is the day that the Eternal One has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.”  

A Prayer for Softer Words and Sacred harmony among us - Parashat Chukat - June 30, 2017 (on the occasion of completing 6 years at Temple Beth-El of Las Cruces)

Eternal One,

You watch over us every day

In our best times

And in our most challenging times.

You direct us, as much as possible,

To work with each other for good,

To join together to do mitzvot

To engender understanding with each other.

Perhaps You lament, along with us,

When cruelty overtakes cooperation.

When the desire to strike back supersedes the possibility

Of soft speech and words than can lead to healing.

In the Torah reading this week,

We see Moses and Aaron driven to frustration

Forgetting to use only the gentle speech that was required in a crucial moment.

We see the Israelites mourn for Miriam, then Aaron,

Losing one who led them in song

And another who gave them blessing.

May we act in community

As if our voices were joined in sacred harmony

May the ways in which we work with each other

And build long lasting relationships

Bring us blessing and strength.

And may the enmity that leads to division

Give way to the realization

That we have much in common

As we continue along this challenging and eventful human journey.

Be with us every moment,

Inspire us every day.

Amen. 

"Let us by all means go up" - Moving ahead with optimism and courage - Parashat Sh'lach L'cha - June 16, 2017

   This has been a multi-faceted week – or we could extend it back for weeks.

   We are watching – or ignoring -hearings on decisions made for conflicting reasons and, some say, questionable motives. 

   We have witnessed violence from opposite ends of the political and ideological spectrum, with stabbings of two defenders of women on a train in Seattle by a man who called himself a patriot. 

    We followed, just after happened and since, the shooting on Wednesday of Congressman Steve Scalise and several other people who were at the baseball practice of the Republican team preparing for last night’s charity game.   At the end of the game, the manager of the winning team from the Democratic side gave the trophy to the manager of the Republican team so that that the trophy could be displayed in Scalise’s office.

   We never know where opinions strongly and militantly stated might take someone.   We tell young children to use their words after we see them hit another child, reminding them that there are choices to how one can express anger or frustration.

    While in New York last week, Rhonda and I went with friends to the National September 11 Museum at the site where the two towers once stood.   It was somber, chilling, and overwhelming.    And it was a reminder of what havoc and devastation a small group of individuals, driven by extreme views, could do to drastically alter the course of world history.   

   What struck me about going through the museum was the diversity of the people visiting and viewing the exhibits, and the stories of the victims and first responders chronicled on the timeline on the wall and in the displays and tales from survivors.

    There was the Ladder Company 3 fire truck that was partially crushed when the towers fell.  All the firefighters in Ladder company 3 died during their attempts at rescue.

   There was the red bandanna honoring Welles Remy Crowther, who was credited with sending many people to safety in the south tower, and who died during his heroic efforts.

    There were images of signs created to try to locate people who were missing after the attack posted by their relatives and friends.   

    There was an extended profile of the rise of Al Qaeda, something on which Rhonda and I chose not to focus as we went through the museum.  

   And there was the quote from Virgil, “No Day Shall Erase You from the Memory of Time,” against a backdrop of panels in shades of blue, each one an attempt to capture the color of the sky at various times in New York city on September 11, 2001. 

   As I read my favorite section of the Torah reading for this week, Sh’lach L’cha,  there was a passage that, I thought, resonated on some levels with the quote from Virgil’s Aeneid. 

    The narrative about the scouts who entered the land of Canaan in Numbers chapters 13 and 14 does list the names of all of the tribal representatives charged with that important task. 

   Moses instructed them as follows: “Go up there into the Negev and on to the hill country and see what kind of country it is.  Are the people who dwell in it strong or weak, few or many?  Is the country in which they dwell good or bad?  Are the towns they live in open or fortified? Is the soil rich or poor?  Is it wooded or not?  And take pains to bring back some of the fruit of the land.” 

   And so they went, bringing back a large cluster of grapes that had to be carried by two of them.  

   But 10 of them were overcome with pessimism, reporting that any attempt to enter Canaan would be disastrous. 

    Two of the scouts, Caleb the son of Jephuneh and Joshua son of Nun, both believed that the people could proceed into Canaan and make a home there. 

    The Torah mentions the names of Caleb and, of course, Joshua, many times.   The names of the other scouts, while chronicled in detail in Numbers Chapter 13, are not mentioned again in the Torah in such a way as to be easily recalled.  

   We have choices in our lives to be positive, optimistic, and hopeful even when our approach is grounded in realism.    “Prepare for the worst, hope for the best” might describe one way of recognizing both the challenges and the many possibilities before us that can enable us to realize our vision and our dreams.

   Caleb and Joshua exemplify that lens and the courage it takes to speak up and share reasons to “reach for the sky” rather than to hang one’s head in disappointment and to mire oneself in a state of inaction. 

   During our visit to New York, Rhonda and I, of course, had a chance to join family, friends and community members to wish our grandson, Joshua Moise Karol, a joyous sendoff as he begins his life’s journey.  

   The significance of his names was not lost on anyone in the family.   His Hebrew name, Yehoshua Moshe, remembers the first leaders of the Israelites, embodying long experience and youthful exuberance, humility and inspired guidance, bravery and patience, strength and wisdom, and a focus on a distant but attainable goal.  

    Joshua’s names also recall his great-grandmother Jeanette, his great-grandfather Joseph and his great-great grandfather Moise.  Adam and Juli spoke about their lives and the essence of their personalities before the naming at the brit milah ceremony.

   A museum can create a place of remembrance for those who made an impact on their families and were wrenched from life too soon.

   And it is what we do during our lives that gradually creates our own legacy, the way we want to be remembered.  

   I wish for Joshua Moise that he will create a path by which he will be remembered for courage, insight, compassion and goodness.

    And may we all live in such a way that our names and our deeds will be recalled for good and for blessing.  

Turning enemies into friends? A dream....a goal - Column for Las Cruces Bulletin on June 2, 2017

      I once had a congregant who claimed that the "us/them" approach to community and the world primarily came from the Bible.  

      I didn't agree with him when he first suggested the idea. As I think about it, he may have been right up to a point, given the dividing lines between peoples and nations that are expressed in a wide range of passages and that, sadly, come to fruition in real life. 

     I believe, however, that sacred texts, such as the Bible, also provide a partial antidote to the "us/them" perspective.    

     A small dose of that antidote comes in a passage about enemies in Exodus, Chapter 23. 

    In verse 4 of that chapter, the word for enemy is the common Hebrew term oyeiv. In verse 5, the word for enemy, sona-a-cha, means "one who hates you."

     The presence of these terms seems to acknowledge that we will, inevitably, have people in our lives with whom we may never have positive interactions.

    These verses present guidance on how to act if one should come upon certain situations.  Here is the passage: "When you encounter your enemy's ox or donkey wandering, you must take it back (to the owner).  When you see the donkey of one who hates you collapsing under its burden and you would refrain from raising it, you must nevertheless help raise it (that is, you must help your enemy raise the animal)." 

    One commentator notes that the primary concern expressed here is for the animal that is lost or overburdened. Still, assisting the animal leads to helping one's enemy, whether the "helper" likes it or not.

    Members of study groups I led in recent years discussed this passage. In their comments, they expressed the importance of "taking the high road," not missing out on an opportunity to reduce enmity with one's enemy, showing respect for all people (whether enemy or friend), loving one's enemy (echoing Jesus' teaching in the New Testament), and considering all people as deserving of help or assistance based in justice, fairness and impartiality.

    This passage from Exodus was not the first one that crossed my mind regarding enemies. I have recently been thinking about Proverbs Chapter 24, Verse 17: "Do not rejoice when your enemies fall, and don't be happy when they stumble." 

     When we consider what is happening in the world around us, this statement may seem relevant and helpful, or it may seem impossible to put into practice.  

    It is clear that both teachings from Exodus and from Proverbs suggest that we human beings do have it in us to step away from conflict and hatred, even for a brief moment. 

     There is a rabbinic story about what could have been happening in heaven after the Israelites crossed the Sea of Reeds, when they became free after having been slaves for so long. As the Egyptian army drowned, the angels were rejoicing.  God offered them a quick rebuke, "My creations - these people - are drowning, and you sing praises?" 

     In that tale, even the angels gave in to the impulse to celebrate the defeat of the foe.   The purpose of the story is to remind us to consider choosing another response when an adversary meets his or her demise. 

      The ultimate goal of our relationships and community ties might be best expressed in this teaching from a 1300 year-old rabbinic wisdom text:  "Who is a hero?  One who turns an enemy into a friend." 

      Even if it seems unrealistic to do so, perhaps it's time to get to work, taking small steps towards becoming that kind of hero. 

     

    

Annual Message delivered at Temple Beth-El Las Cruces Annual Meeting - May 16, 2017

    On Thursday, May 4, I decided to do something in the community that I had never done before anywhere where I have served.   It was time to witness, with my own eyes and ears, local National Day of Prayer observances.  These events were sponsored by Dona Ana County and by the City of Las Cruces.   In both cases, the endorsers from the county and city had declared that the gatherings were open to members of all faiths.  So, I went, wearing my sunglasses,  my Indiana Jones hat and my usual Friday night attire, standing on the perimeter of each event.  There were proclamations about church and God, prayers for various aspects of society and for public officials, and a call for all citizens to direct people in our area to witness to God’s glory.   The scriptural readings, songs, and meditations were all from one faith tradition. It was as if I had gone to visit a local evangelical church on a Sunday morning to learn about their worship.    And learn, I did, for sure.

      The people gathered exhibited a deep sense of belief, and fervor, and a feeling of God’s immediate presence all around.  

      Missing, though, were people outside the realm of that religious cohort. There were no representatives from a wider range of Christian denominations or from other religions.

         I believe that Las Cruces and Dona Ana County are much more than the expressions of faith that I saw on May 4. And as for us, here at Temple Beth-El, we are here, too, and we have been here for a long time.  

         Our beliefs and our teachings call on us to sense God’s glory or presence among us. Our expressions of our tradition are just as sincere, heartfelt and powerful as what I saw by the County Building and City Hall.   

          In preparation for the Jewish Food and Folk Festival, I helped Rhonda put up decorative “Shaloms” in Hebrew and English, Israeli flags, and posters that would inform our guests about Jewish holidays and symbols.  This year, I added something special.   As an extension of the PJ Library program which provides Jewish books for young children, the Grinspoon Foundation prepared, over the last 2 years, a series of posters entitled “Voices and Visions.”  The posters feature quotes that reflect essential tenets of our heritage, with accompanying artistic interpretations to illustrate the quotes.   I decided to post my favorite statements from this series up on the wall for the JFFF, and I left them up for tonight.  For the next few moments,  I want to lead you on a tour through these quotes to see how they can guide us as we sustain our sacred partnerships with each other.

   “Serving others is one of the pillars on which Judaism rests.”   Lynne Schusterman, a well-known philanthropist, is credited with this thought.   We serve each other when we put at the center of our Jewish observance TORAH, learning, AVODAH, worship and holy work, and G’MILUT CHASADIM, performing acts of love and kindness.  Each of those three “things” upon which the world stands directs us to be a part of a community, where no one is more important or less important than anyone else.   Service means taking on positions of authority which carry with them responsibilities, specific duties to fulfill in the best way we are able and with all of our talents, skills and abilities applied to the tasks before us.  It means lifting each other up and not letting anyone down, including ourselves, and asking for help when we need it.   Service means being selfless about what we do and regarding what and how we give.   Our service and our giving should not be about any one person.  They should enable us to produce the “we” that grows out of our joining together as a congregation.   

    “Imagination is more important than knowledge.” Albert Einstein said this one.  Are you surprised?  It is likely that an Albert Einstein with no imagination could not have come up with the Theory of Relativity.  Einstein’s work has served as a foundation for further refinements of the way scientists currently think about the Universe.  One of the best examples of imagination for Temple Beth-El continues to be the Jewish Food and Folk Festival.   The collective knowledge gained from past TBE fundraisers came to be applied to the genesis of this community event alongside new ideas and fresh approaches.   The JFFF is fast becoming a “hit” for Las Cruces and Dona Ana County.  It is also significant for us, as 90 congregants and community members worked in year #4 as cashiers, servers, performers, and volunteers in other tasks.   Each year, there is a little more imagination that adds something new to this amazing event of culture and hospitality.   The JFFF can serve as a model for the many programs which we create for ourselves and for sharing with our neighbors.   

     The next three quotes go together, at least in my opinion.   Natan Sharansky, head of Israel’s Jewish Agency and former Soviet Prisoner of Zion, said, “We must believe not only that all people are created equal but also that all peoples are created equal.”   Emma Lazarus, famous for the “New Colussus” poem on the Statue of Liberty, once said, “Until we are all free, none of us are free.”  Finally, Rabbi Yitz Greenberg taught, “Judaism is founded on human faith and divine promise that the world can be perfected.”   These statements ask us to look at who we are in relation to Jews around the world and to all of humanity.   They remind us that the Jewish people has something important to teach everyone about loving our neighbors as ourselves, about caring for the most vulnerable in society, about “lifting up the fallen and freeing the captive,” and about seeking liberty for all people. We know, from our life experiences, that working for equality and freedom, and helping people in need, requires action.   At Temple Beth-El, we serve breakfast at Camp Hope on December 25.  Members serve at the El Caldito Soup Kitchen every Monday.  We have hosted discussions for the community on poverty, gratitude, humility, and other topics.  We have held candidate forum programs so that people can exercise their right to vote being fully informed about the candidates running for office.   There is always more to be done, but anything we do derives from the teachings of our tradition.  When Micah declared that we should do justly, love mercy and walk humbly with God, he wasn’t only talking about love in relation to mercy.  He meant that we should love performing acts of kindness and mercy, leading a society to a greater level of equality and freedom for all citizens.  We will continue to explore what that ancient call demands of us in the coming months.

   “It’s when the winds blow hardest that you need the deepest roots.”   This is a quote from Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, former Chief Rabbi of Great Britain.  Those roots of which he spoke relate to our heritage, that can continue to give us confidence and fortitude in the face of never-dying anti-Semitism, ignorance and hatred.  Our roots can direct us individually and collectively to extend a helping hand to each other when we need support as we face life’s challenges.  Finally, that statement reminds us not to be stormwinds for each other.   That means that our relationships must be grounded in respect, cooperation, active listening, sharing of stories and hopes and dreams, and making our needs known so that we can offer our assistance when the tempests of life visit us all too unexpectedly.   Judaism’s central teachings point the way to forming bonds of community that will keep us strong and hold us together.

    “I am blessed to be a voyager on an ancient pathway.” This is a gem of wisdom from Rabbi Rachel Cowan. A number of us engaged in conversations from December through March on the book WISE AGING, written by Rabbi Cowan and Dr. Linda Thal. Those of us who participated in those sessions had a chance to reflect on the meaning of the many and varied aspects of our lives as we move along the life-cycle. I believe that we, during our discussions, discovered ways in which we are voyagers along the same path, trying to determine how to live each day in the best way possible, and how to fashion a lasting legacy that will offer blessing to our family members, friends and community. 

    We at Temple Beth-El are all blessed to be fellow voyagers on an ancient pathway.   As I reviewed the photographs from Temple events over the past year, one aspect of those photos is clear: there is no one who is alone, or, at least, there shouldn’t be.   There are faces that, whether smiling or serious, reflect the significance of what we do and what we create alongside each other at Temple Beth-El.   I feel privileged to be a fellow voyager with the Board of Trustees, led so well this year by Temple President Ellen Torres.  I am enriched by my work with committee chairs and committee members; volunteers;  Mensch Club and Sisterhood leaders and members; BETY BEMY members; Religious School faculty, aides and students; and congregants and community members with whom I meet and study and from whom I learn so much.  

    I am, as always, blessed to be a fellow voyager with Rhonda, as our path here in Las Cruces continues to move forward as we work with you to sustain Jewish life here in tried and true ways and with new creative touches. And to Adam and Juli in New York, I extend a special gratitude for their valuable counsel and reassurance.

      We fellow voyagers on an ancient pathway are blessed to be together, nurturing the divine spark inside of us, with all of us under God’s protection.  We read in Psalm 61:    Hear my cry, O Eternal one…from the end of the earth, I call to You: You lead me to a rock that is high above me…O that I might dwell in Your tent forever, take refuge under Your protecting wings.”   May we be God’s wings for each other, as we support one another in times of trial and triumph, and in moments of sorrow and joy.  

Invocation - Temple Beth-El Las Cruces Annual Meeting - May 16, 2017

Eternal God,

Be with us on this night as we gather as one community

Seeking holiness, forging understanding,

Engendering shared vision,

Maintaining ancient values which you inspire us to make new every day.

Bless us all:

Leaders and members,

Teachers and students,

Grandparents and parents and children,

Volunteers, partners, and friends.

Help us find guidance from our tradition:

In the imagination and trailblazing of Abraham and Sarah;

In the vision of Jacob who became Israel;

In the insight of Joseph;

In the humility of Moses;

In the spirit and song of Miriam;

In the judgment and leadership of Deborah;

In the courage of David;

In the wisdom of Solomon;

In the compassion of Isaiah, Jeremiah, Micah and our prophets;

In the collegiality of the rabbis as we study with and learn from one another;

In the commitment of Ruth to a people she made her own.

Remind us of the opportunities we have to celebrate

Our accomplishments,

Our ingenuity,

Our determination,

Our creativity,

Our openness,

Our diversity,

Our hard-won commonality,

Our enduring hope,

Our success,

And our triumphs after overcoming conflict or challenge. 

May all we have done this year lead us to

Greater vision,

Deepened insight,

Personal and communal growth,

And a recognition of the holiness that is all around us and inside of us

As You, Eternal One, walk with us along the way. 

May the steps we take bring us blessing and peace now and in the years to come.   

Moments, Offerings and a Song - D'var Torah for Parashat Emor - May 12, 2017

        During this time between Passover and Shavuot, we are engaged in counting the days between the holidays, based on the ritual described in the Torah reading for this week.  The Israelites were commanded to bring a sheaf of grain every day from the second day of Passover to the 50^th day, which is Shavuot, the feast of weeks,  marking the barley harvest in ancient Israel.   In Jewish practice today, this time period symbolically represents the journey of the Israelites from Egypt to their first destination, Mount Sinai. 

     The passage in the Torah I will read in Leviticus Chapter 23 first speaks of the “fixed times” of God, the days on which there would be something asked of the people in terms of a ritual to perform and an offering to give.   

   In our lives, we have many fixed times.  We have fixed times when we have to be “on.” We may be engaged in work, volunteer service, making presentations, keeping commitments with friends or family or community members or attending set appointments. 

     We also have time “off” for leisure, entertainment, reading, listening, learning and for using our talents and abilities to create something new or pursue a personal hobby or interest.  We often have the opportunity to make those moments of personal time worthwhile and enduring, and perhaps, to do the same with the times that others set for us.   

      After the initial statement in Leviticus Chapter 23 comes a description of Shabbat, the human day of rest because God rested on the seventh day after creating the world. Shabbat is also a day, according to the Ten Commandments in the book of Deuteronomy, when we remember the Israelites moving from slavery to freedom, a reminder that no one could again force them to do labor against their will.

     Still, today, Shabbat is intended to teach us about “time out,” taking ourselves out of our routines to make one day a week special. 

      Every year, the Jewish organization “Reboot” sponsors a “National Day of Unplugging.”   Listen to the “National Day of Unplugging” official rationale, which sounds like a new version of the Torah’s declarations about Shabbat:

“Do you have multiple cell phones? Take your iPad to the beach on vacation? Ever find it hard to get through a conversation without posting an update to Facebook? Is your computer always on? We increasingly miss out on the important moments of our lives as we pass the hours with our noses buried in our phones, chronicling our every move through social media and shielding ourselves from the outside world with the bubble of “silence” that our earphones create. If you recognize that in yourself – or your friends, families or colleagues— join us for the National Day of Unplugging, start living a different life: connect with the people in your street, neighborhood and city, have an uninterrupted meal or read a book to your child. The National Day of Unplugging is a 24-hour period – running from sundown to sundown – and starts on the first Friday in March. The project is an outgrowth of the Sabbath Manifesto, an adaptation of our ancestors' ritual, [giving us the chance today to] carve out one day per week to unwind, unplug, relax, reflect, get outdoors, and connect with loved ones.”

    We can be grateful to the “Reboot” organization to remind us of what Shabbat can mean – it is certainly about giving up, but it is also about receiving a special gift in return – time for ourselves and our loved ones – a gift that comes from God, the Torah and our tradition.

     The Leviticus 23 passage then moves to the first holiday in the spring: Passover, which we just observed several weeks ago.        These verses clarify the extent of the time for celebrating Passover and note certain observances of the festival. What the text doesn’t do is tell us how important Passover would become throughout the centuries.  Eventually, Jews developed the Passover Seder ritual for the home, which takes participants through the Exodus experience.   It is reported that the Passover Seder is observed every year by 60-70% of Jews in the United States and 93% of Jews living in Israel. The reason for widespread observance is that Passover can be done in the home if we choose.  It is ours.  And it is significant because of the enduring memories of the people with whom we have celebrated in the past,  specific recipes for Passover food, melodies that we sing every year, and the new rituals and customs we create to make the holiday new.   Shabbat and Passover both provide us with a guide to making a wide range of life experiences memorable, because we know that it is the sensory input and, especially, the feelings of moments we want to remember, that will remain with us. . 

      Making a moment memorable may require that we offer something material, or  an intangible aspect of our personality and character.   

     For our ancestors, the special offerings of grain which they took to the local center for worship at this time of year were a gift to the priests and to God. They made these gifts in the presence of a community.  After they returned home, they could tell stories about their journey to the ancient Temple, tales about people they met along with way, and impressions about what it felt like to humbly present their offerings.  

     This week, I was challenged to think about the concept of giving personally and within a community as I read the liturgical poem by Alden Solovy entitled “Offerings.”  I was very taken by the reading because it focuses on what life presents to us and how we respond.  This piece provides food for thought and discussion because it suggests that everything that life presents to us comes from God, whether positive or what we might see as negative.   We could view God’s offerings, as portrayed in this poem, as similar to the direction a parent gives a child when he or she faces trials or triumphs, joy or sorrow. Even when we encounter a difficult situation, we have the opportunity to recognize God’s presence that can help us through that challenging time. Sometimes, God’s presence may come to us in the  assistance and strength that we receive from friends, family members and even people in the community we barely know.

     For that reason, as I adapted this reading into a song, I added verses from Psalm 27 that ask for God to be merciful and present when we call for support.  The Psalmist imagined the sense of relief and hope we would feel when we receive God’s favor and blessing, with the face of the divine shining down upon us.  Perhaps it also recognized that we could see the spark of God in the faces of those people who stand by our side, to hold us up every day.     

    It is in those moments when we respond to what is offered to us by life and God that we may discover the best part of ourselves and the best of one another.  And so, may we count and recall those moments of revelation, realization and renewal all the days of our lives for good and for blessing.   

 (Here is a link to the song) 

"Offerings" - Music by Larry Karol - words by Alden Solovy and from Psalm 27

Offerings - Music by Larry Karol

(Liturgical Poem by Alden Solovy - and Psalm 27:7, 8 - added by Larry K.)

When G-d offers love, I offer my heart.

When G-d offers wisdom, I offer my mind.

When G-d offers beauty, I offer my senses.

When G-d offers silence, I offer my patience.

CHORUS:  Sh’ma Adonai Koli Ekra - Choneini Va-aneini

                    Sh’ma Adonai Koli Ekra - Et Panecha Adonai Avakeish

[Hear, O Eternal One, when I cry aloud, be gracious to me, answer me.

O Eternal One, I seek Your face]

When G-d offers challenge, I offer my strength.

When G-d offers trial, I offer my faith.

When G-d offers pain, I offer my dignity.

When G-d offers fear, I offer my courage - CHORUS

When G-d offers grief, I offer my endurance.

When G-d offers shame, I offer my amends.

When G-d offers death, I offer my mourning.

When G-d offers life, I offer my rejoicing.

When G-d offers joy, I offer my thanksgiving.

When G-d offers awe, I offer my wonder.

When G-d offers righteousness, I offer my blessings.

When G-d offers holiness, I offer my praise. CHORUS

When G-d offers love, I offer my heart. 

 Words © 2011 Alden Solovy and tobendlight.com. All rights reserved.

Used with permission

Leviticus 23:1-16
[1] The Eternal one spoke to Moses, saying: [2] Speak to the Israelite people and say to them: These are My fixed times, the fixed times of the Eternal, which you shall proclaim as sacred occasions.  [3] On six days work may be done, but on the seventh day there shall be a Sabbath of complete rest, a sacred occasion. You shall do no work; it shall be a Sabbath of the Eternal throughout your settlements. [4] These are the set times of the Eternal, the sacred occasions, which you shall celebrate each at its appointed time: [5] In the first month, on the fourteenth day of the month, at twilight, there shall be a passover offering to the Eternal, [6] and on the fifteenth day of that month the Eternal's Feast of Unleavened Bread. You shall eat unleavened bread for seven days. [7] On the first day you shall celebrate a sacred occasion: you shall not work at your occupations. [8] Seven days you shall make offerings by fire to the Eternal. The seventh day shall be a sacred occasion: you shall not work at your occupations. [9] The Eternal One spoke to Moses, saying: [10] Speak to the Israelite people and say to them: When you enter the land that I am giving to you and you reap its harvest, you shall bring the first sheaf of your harvest to the priest. [11] He shall elevate the sheaf before the Eternal for acceptance in your behalf; the priest shall elevate it on the day after the sabbath. [12] On the day that you elevate the sheaf, you shall offer as a burnt offering to the Eternal a lamb of the first year without blemish. [13] The meal offering with it shall be two-tenths of a measure of choice flour with oil mixed in, an offering by fire of pleasing odor to the Eternal; and the libation with it shall be of wine, a quarter of a hin. [14]Until that very day, until you have brought the offering of your God, you shall eat no bread or parched grain or fresh ears; it is a law for all time throughout the ages in all your settlements.  [15] And from the day on which you bring the sheaf of elevation offering—the day after the sabbath—you shall count off seven weeks. They must be complete: [16] you must count until the day after the seventh week—fifty days; then you shall bring an offering of new grain to the Eternal.