Thursday, December 31, 2020
REFLECTIONS ON 2020 - HOPES FOR 2021 - December 21, 2020
Wednesday, December 30, 2020
“As the Stars Align, So Also Can Humanity” - Column - Las Cruces Bulletin - January 1, 2021.
Monday, December 28, 2020
A Reflection - December 26, 2020
A Late December 2020 Prayer
Thursday, December 24, 2020
Holding on to common sense - December 23, 2020
Monday, December 21, 2020
Jupiter-Saturn Conjunction and our current national moment - December 19, 2020
Letter to Editor - Topeka Capital-Journal - December 21, 2020 - In response to a column by Pastor Adrienne Greene
Saturday, December 5, 2020
A December 2020/Kislev 5781 Prayer of Resolve
Thursday, December 3, 2020
Facebook thoughts on the post-election saga - November/December 2020
Let’s Be Good to One Another This Season - Column - Las Cruces Bulletin - December 4, 2020
At this writing (November 25), we are engaged in different types of counting.
For example: it is one day until Thanksgiving, 15 days until the first night of Hanukkah (for those who celebrate), 29 days until Christmas Eve (for those who celebrate), and 36 days until the eve of 2020’s conclusion.
Vote counts in the 2020 Presidential election are still being certified.
Sadly, we note the increasing number of people who have been infected with COVID-19. We remember people the world over who have died during this pandemic, offering our condolences and support to their family members.
In recent months, many holiday celebrations, meetings with family and friends, and gatherings for remembrance have been virtual. They have also been very meaningful.
We appreciate the commitment of health care workers, and the worldwide cooperation among medical experts that has led to the creation of not just one vaccine, but several vaccines, that will, hopefully, diminish the deleterious effects of COVID-19 on our lives.
As the days grow shorter leading up to winter, our light can still shine more brightly. That is likely why, long ago, light became a central aspect of various holiday observances at this time of year, along with their associated stories that lift up values such as hope, unity and dedication.
Hanukkah means dedication, recalling the reconsecration of the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem as a sacred site of Jewish worship in 165 B.C., three years to the day after the Syrian Greek rulers of Judea had temporarily appropriated that holy place for their own purposes.
The Maccabees, the Jewish forces marshaled to regain the Temple, focused on the restoration of their religious freedom and on gaining independence from their tyrannical rulers.
Hanukkah was, at first, a celebration of that independence. Eventually, once Jews were ruled by the Romans, the festival’s most prominent ritual was the kindling of special lights for eight nights to commemorate a victory grounded in faith.
Jews recite a section of the biblical book of Zechariah on the Sabbath during Hanukkah. Sages of Jewish tradition highlighted the message of one declaration in that passage: “Not by might, not by power, but by My spirit, says the Eternal One of all creation.”
That verse teaches the universal lesson that there are intangible and priceless aspects of our lives that must supersede any selfish designs people might have on gaining positions of power and control.
We have learned in 2020 that generous acts of kindness matter. The support we offer one another in times of need and in the face of loss matter. Our work towards fostering justice, equality, respect, and human decency matters. All of these efforts belong in the realm of spirit, where power is merely a means to make them happen.
A teaching attributed to the Sufi mystic Rumi has been “making the rounds” lately on social media. Sometimes those platforms, often filled with vociferous discourse, can provide us with gentle pearls of wisdom that can truly guide our lives. Here is the quote:
“I asked a wise man, ‘Tell me sir, in which field could I make a great career?’ He said, with a smile, ‘Be a good human being. There is a huge opportunity in this area. And very little competition.’”
More than ever, we need to be good human beings for ourselves, and for each other, so that we can engender optimism, safety and a cooperative spirit. That is how we can sustain our community and our world.
Monday, November 16, 2020
Lift Us - November 16, 2020
Saturday, November 7, 2020
A message to “stop the steal”
Thursday, November 5, 2020
Say NO to the Big Lie - November 5, 2020 (Facebook Post)
Our Shared Humanity - Column for Las Cruces Bulletin - November 6, 2020
The members of my family - locally and in a major city on the eastern seaboard - voted in person. It is our duty as American citizens.
It is, moreover, our responsibility as community members who care about the welfare of other community members, where community can mean our neighborhood, organizations (including religious congregations) to which we belong, our state, our nation and the entire human family.
I have served as a rabbi in six states. I have voted in all of them. I am still a student of the political scenes in every one of those states. I have had the opportunity to meet and, in some cases, to get to know congressional representatives, senators, governors and presidential candidates from both major political parties. Whether we agreed or not, those ties created connections that I valued.
I served on the Kansas State Holocaust Commission for 19 years (most of those years as Commission chair). Leaders of both major political parties shared a concern about educating people of all ages about the tragic events of the Holocaust, so that such cruelty would not happen again. Some values should, in fact, transcend our differences.
One of the most impactful books I have read in recent years was written by Ariel Burger, who served as a teaching assistant at Boston University to Elie Wiesel, a renowned author, humanitarian, Nobel laureate and Holocaust survivor. In his book, Witness: Lessons from Elie Wiesel’s Classroom, Burger offered readers an opportunity to enter into the presence of Wiesel as a moral guide and spiritual mentor.
In one of my favorite passages in the book, Wiesel explained to his students how we can approach each other with respect and empathy: “To be human is to share a common origin. And if we share a common origin, our destinies are entwined. What happens to me will eventually happen to you; what happened to my people is a foreshadowing of what will threaten the world....Therefore the most important biblical commandment is ‘Thou shall not stand idly by the shedding of the blood of thy fellow human being.’ ‘Fellow human being’ is universal. Anyone who is suffering, anyone who is threatened becomes your responsibility. If you can feel this and act with even a little bit more humanity, more sensitivity, as a result, that is the beginning. It is not the end—I do not know how to end hatred, I truly wish I did—but recognizing our shared humanity is a good beginning.”
Hatred, dehumanization, demonization, blaming, bullying, and abuse of power have not disappeared from the human family. The beliefs that one’s view is necessarily better than any other perspective, and that there is no room for other opinions, are still with us.
In contrast, the Talmud, the Jewish compendium of stories and legal discussions of rabbis who lived 1500-2000 years ago, preserved both majority and minority views expressed in their discussions and deliberations. The United States Supreme Court does the same with majority and minority opinions, so as not to lose the insights or wisdom coming from either side
I heard Ariel Burger speak about his book at a conference last December. One of his statements, based on Wiesel’s teachings, stuck with me: “Tragedy does not define us. Our response to tragedy defines us.”
We can properly respond to tragedy and other challenges when we come together based on empathy and a shared sense of responsibility.
That is a lesson for our time.
Monday, November 2, 2020
What God asks of us - on the eve of the 2020 election
Sunday, November 1, 2020
A prayer for momentous decisions in our national live - November 1, 2020
Eternal God,
Compassionate Judge,
Concerned Creator,
Spirit of Oneness
Infused into our very existence,
As we exercise our responsibility
As citizens
To decide who will lead us
In the coming years,
Help us to emulate your essential attributes:
Mercy
Grace
Patience
Outrage that leads to productive action
A pursuit and sharing of the truth
Kindness
Forgiveness
and the awareness that what we do in any moment
Can have long lasting consequences.
May the gifts of insight and wisdom
Which you have made available to us
Enable us to combat, in all forms
Cruelty
Violence
Prejudice
Hatred
Discrimination
The misuse of systems of justice
The spreading of misinformation
Intimidation of opponents due to seeing them as less than human.
We know that You have provided us with the tools and the capacity
To love ourselves, our family, our friends, our neighbors,
and people whom we do not yet know.
When we see love, consideration, and decency disappearing
From our communities, our nation and our world,
May we find a way to take a stand
And to join with others
To preserve love - and peace - within our souls
Within our relationships
And within the unseen but powerful ties
That bind together all human beings with all of Your creation.
Monday, October 26, 2020
COVID-19 - Ending or Maintaining Caring and Compassion - It depends - October 22, 2020
On Separations...and Cruelty - October 21, 2020
48 years of voting - a personal history - October 19, 2020
Sunday, October 11, 2020
Fighting for our lives - still
Oblivion can wait - October 10, 2020
Thursday, October 8, 2020
Reminders of the virus of hatred - October 8, 2020
Monday, October 5, 2020
Cautious, not afraid - current thoughts on COVID-19
Friday, October 2, 2020
Sukkot NOT Deferred- Introduction to Sukkot Video Retrospective for Temple Beth-El Las Cruces - October 2, 2020
It was one of those dreams one doesn’t forget.
At least not now.
The rabbi had retired, but he was preparing to lead a service for Sukkot.
He knew that the Lulav, with its palm, willow and myrtle branches, and the etrog were waiting patiently in the Temple refrigerator.
There would be no physical Sukkah, but there would be familiar prayers, the same ones recited during past Sukkot celebrations.
The night before the service, the rabbi was having a restless night. He finally fell back asleep.
Suddenly, he found himself in the Temple playground.
Two figures materialized - a man and a woman.
They were dressed in clothing that looked like....branches, leaves, artistic decorations, and fruit.
They were covered from head to toe in these strange and unique garments.
To the rabbi’s delight - and even slight horror, they spoke, but with gentle, reassuring voices.
The man said, “Rabbi, I am ARAV,”
The woman introduced herself, “I am HADAS.”
The Rabbi said, “Mr. Willow and Ms. Myrtle. Wonderful names! Which is why you both look like...
“A Sukkah. Yes, Rabbi!” Exclaimed Hadas.
“Why are you here?” Asked the rabbi. The Temple did not build a Sukkah this year because...
“Yes, we know all about the pandemic,” ARAV said. “We know that more people than ever before are building a Sukkot at their homes, if they are able. We know that fewer congregations are building Sukkot outside their buildings. We just came to tell you what you might do to remember what it’s like to be together in a community Sukkah .”
The rabbi said, “What can we do? ARAV, HADAS, tell me!”
HADAS spoke first. “Rabbi we know you have quite a collection of photos of past Sukkot celebrations. Making and hanging decorations, building the Sukkah, and then images of people gathered in the Sukkah for that really cool service. We love the way you play ‘Turn, Turn, Turn,’ by the way.”
ARAV continued, “Rabbi, take some of those photos and add them to a song about Sukkot on — what is it called? - a computer.”
HADAS chimed in, “ARAV, don’t you know about iMOVIE? Rabbi, you know what to do. All of those memories will come flooding back when you see those photos: they will carry you through this year’s Sukkot until you can be together in the Temple Sukkah again next year.”
ARAV added, “All true, HADAS, but you know that they can still take a photo in their Sukkot worship space - just like before....all right, almost like before. Their faces will all be together in their virtual Zoom Sukkah. Aren’t you amazed, HADAS, that they have figured out how to join together to celebrate the holiday? They could have thought of themselves as lost in the desert. They are not lost at all! They are joyful! And they are hopeful!”
HADAS said, “YES ARAV - you are so right. Rabbi, make that video from the pictures from the past. Next year, you can include photos from this year to remind you of how you all overcame obstacles to celebrate as a community.”
The rabbi thought for a moment. “ARAV, HADAS, what great ideas and thoughts. I will start looking through my photos. I have just the song, too, as the soundtrack. I promise I will get to work....”
Before the rabbi could say, “as soon as I can,” he was awake. He got out of bed in the middle of the night and created a retrospective: a reminder of Sukkot celebrations past, and of those yet to come.
Do justly, love kindness and walk humbly with God - Column for Las Cruces Bulletin - October 2, 2020
Recently, a Temple Beth-El study group which I lead read Chapter 6, verse 8 from the book of the prophet Micah. These words may be familiar to you: “It has been told you, O mortal, what is good, and what the Eternal One requires of you: only to do justly, love kindness, and walk humbly with God.”
Six years ago, that verse served as the centerpiece of a discussion I facilitated for Temple Beth-El congregants.
Participants first had the opportunity to comment on each of the three parts of Micah’s statement.
They explained that “to do justly” expresses the societal principle of equality of opportunity, along with the elimination of obstacles to equality. There was an acknowledgment that not everyone sees justice from the same perspective, but it is through justice (in the legal, personal, cultural and social realms) and fairness that we survive as a community.
We discussed how Jewish commentators explained that “love kindness” actually means that people should perform acts of kindness with a whole heart and a generous spirit. This can refer to charitable giving or to helping people in all sorts of significant ways.
Participants in that conversation noted that we “walk humbly/modestly with God” when we listen to other people and see the divine spark in everyone, recognizing our common humanity. One person commented, “Practicing justice, love, kindness and mercy ensures that you will walk humbly, modestly and wisely.”
I believe that we are doing justly, practicing kindness, and walking humbly as we respond to the challenges created by the COVID-19 pandemic. Many of us, in some way, have answered the call to provide support and comfort for those who are ill and for their family members, to donate supplies to people in need, and to hold up, as much as we are able, individuals who need financial help due to loss of or reduction in their income.
Micah’s proclamation has the power to bring us close together, encouraging us to overcome our differences so that we can discover what we hold in common. Some people may believe that the divisiveness and polarization which, too often, rule the day, precludes such a possibility.
The recent death of Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg (may her memory be for blessing, we say in the Jewish tradition after a person has died) offered a reminder of how two people, who were usually vociferous opponents in their judicial approaches and opinions, could forge common ground.
Justice Ginsburg’s friendship with the late Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia was based on their shared love of opera, and, just as much, on the judicial expertise, which they each possessed, that made them worthy adversaries.
In her eulogy for Justice Scalia in 2016, Justice Ginsburg said, “Once asked how we could be friends, given our disagreement on lots of things, Justice Scalia answered: ‘I attack ideas. I don't attack people.’”
Justice Ginsburg concluded: “I will miss the challenges and the laughter he provoked, his pungent, eminently quotable opinions, the roses he brought me on my birthday, the chance to appear with him once more as supernumeraries at the opera.”
Perhaps they were friends, also, because the late Justice Ginsburg believed that “We the People” means “all the people.”
Are we capable of such a friendship? I believe so, especially when we seek fairness, act with kindness, and remember that, because we are walking, side-by-side, along the same road, we can be, for each other, beacons of hope.