A Better View - A Meditation for Parashat Balak - June 21, 2013

How good are your tents, O Jacob;

Your dwellings, O Israel!

So the foreign prophet Balaam proclaimed

As he gazed down upon the Israelites

Encamped as one people.

Called upon to curse them for Balak,

The King of Moab,

Balaam could only utter words of blessing.

What if our speech was so directed

By similar inspiration?

What if we only saw 

The good before us

And in each other?

Would challenge, conflict, and disagreement

Disappear?

Most likely, difficulties in our lives would remain

But the ways in which we would face unexpected changes,  negativism, and unfounded pessimism might be greatly different.

Before us, we would see, instead

New opportunities that would test our patience and courage,

A fresh approach on how we define goodness and satisfaction each day,

And reasons to embrace hope at all times,

Knowing that we can turn to one another for the strength to face new vistas together.

Balaam said of the Israelites:  “Blessed are those who bless you!”

May we see that when we find b’rachah, blessing, in ourselves, and in our fellow community members, our tents will be good and our dwellings places will emanate SHALOM,  wholeness and peace.  

Opening the Borders of our Hearts - D'var Torah - Parashat Chukat - June 14, 2013

 Shabbat Shalom!  I  want to begin by sharing two stories from this week’s news that relate to the Torah reading from Chukat in the book of Numbers.  First, we will examine the contemporary examples, and then then we will look at the Torah reading.

     Before Game three of the NBA Finals this week, San Antonio native Sebastien de la Cruz, a celebrated competitor in last year’s America’s Got Talent, sang the national anthem.  He was wearing a mariachi outfit, but, after all, 63% of San Antonio citizens are Latino.   Some of the immediate responses on twitter to Sebastien’s appearance  were full of prejudice and racism, exemplified by this one:  “This kid is Mexican - why is he singing the national anthem?” That user added the twitter hashtags: #yournotamerican #gohome.”  Because of this reaction, the San Antonio Spurs asked Sebastien to sing the National anthem again last night before Game 4.  On Good Morning America on ABC this morning, Sebastien responded to his detractors with an incredible amount of class.  He said, “To the people that do have hatred in their hearts, I just want to tell them that they should think before they say things.”

     A second story from the news this week comes from Israel. Times of Israel reported the story of Nadrah, a four-year old girl from Syria whose heart had only a single ventricle.  It wasn’t expected that she would survive past her 18^th birthday.  She received surgery and follow-up treatment in Israel.  Her 8 month pregnant mother had accompanied her.  This opportunity for treatment was made possible by Shevet Achim, an Israel-based Christian organization that has been arranging for Palestinian, Jordanian, Kurdish and now Syrian children to come to Israel for almost two decades to undergo life-saving heart surgery.

   Among Nadrah’s visitors at the hospital was Meir Hazan, a Syrian Jew who left his home at the age of 17.  He introduced himself to Nadrah and her mother Raha as “Abu Salim,” his name from his childhood. They were afraid that he was one of Bashar Assad’s intelligence agents looking for them.  Hazan explained that he was, simply, a native Syrian Jew who left for greater freedom in Israel. Hazan spoke later about his visit with Nadrah:  “She told me, ‘In Syria people are slaughtering each other, but you came here to visit another Syrian you don’t know, and there is no hatred in your eyes.’”

     Hazan had initially wanted to take the family for a drive to a local Syrian restaurant, but Nadrah’s health wouldn’t allow it. Luckily, in the Syrian tradition, he had prepared kubbeh, tabbouleh, pickled vegetables and other Syrian foods for them, and set them out in the hospital room. . The success of Nadrah’s experience has opened up the possibility for other Syrian children needing heart surgery to come to Israel in the future.  

     And meanwhile, in Syria, it is likely that any group that the United States or any other nation would back would eventually commit some minor or major atrocity or massacre against another group or village, be it Christian or Muslim.

      The Torah reading for this week described the request of the Israelites to peacefully pass through the territory of the Edomites.  They told their story of oppression and their flight to freedom in their plea to the people of Edom. The Israelites promised to pay for any natural resources they might use.   The Edomites, however, responded with verbal refusals at first, and, finally, by sending out an army to be sure that the Israelites would take another route.  

     This passage reminds me of the closed hearts of those who tweeted hateful statements about Sebastien de la Cruz. 

  It makes me think of the ill-fated journey of the St. Louis, the ship with over 938 Jewish passengers on board on its 1939 voyage.   Bound for Havana, Cuba, the St. Louis arrived at its destination, but the 908 passengers who had no valid American or Cuban visas or passports were not allowed to disembark.  Later, the ship set sail for Miami and was turned away by the United States Coast Guard.  All the passengers returned to Europe, receiving permission to settle in a variety of countries.

   The response of the Edomites can relate to times when people close their hearts towards fellow human beings who are in need of help, or support, or refuge.  

    The Edomite approach calls to mind times when individuals or groups judge others only through their own eyes, rather than trying to empathize with those whom they judge in order to truly understand their situation.

  Those who supported Sebastien de la Cruz against an onslaught of hatred, and everyone who helped Nadrah from Syria through her experience of healing and hope, exemplify the best of the human spirit – as expressed by the reading in our prayerbook: 

“May the door of this synagogue be wide enough to receive all who hunger for love, all who are lonely for friendship.  May it welcome all who have cares to unburden, thanks to express, hopes to nurture.  May the door of this synagogue be narrow enough to shut out pettiness and pride, envy and enmity.  May its threshold be no stumbling block to young or straying feet.  May it be too high to admit complacency, selfishness and harshness.”

And may the words of Torah that we read tonight inspire us, as members of the human family, to keep our attitudes and our hearts open to all who would journey our way. 

Going up...with a song on our lips - reflections on 32 years in the rabbinate - June 6, 2013

      “Let us by all means go up!”  

    These were the words of the scout Caleb, who, along with his fellow scout, Joshua, brought back to the Israelites a positive report about the land of Canaan.   Numbers Chapters 13 and 14 recounted that the Israelites greeted their optimism with fear and reproach.   It was easier for the masses to believe the pessimistic majority report of ten of the scouts than it was to realize their own potential for success.  “The Israelites did “go up,” but only much, much later than they should have, and only when they truly knew what it meant to be free.   

      “Going up” can refer to facing many types of challenges in our lives.  32 years ago today, I ascended the bimah of Cincinnati’s Plum Street Temple, first to sing Bonia Shur’s melodies for the prayers of the Torah service, and, later, to be ordained as a rabbi by Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion President Alfred Gottschalk. That “going up” was the first step in my rabbinic journey, which officially began, for me, when I served for three years as assistant rabbi at Temple Israel in Dayton, Ohio.   While I said in my interview with Temple Israel’s search committee that “I didn’t necessarily need to be known as the ‘singing rabbi,’” I was on the bimah with my guitar three weeks into my rabbinate. That rabbi-guitar partnership continues to this day.

     I don’t know if, back then, I fully realized what I was “getting into” as a rabbi.   This past week, I attended, for the 12^th time, the Hava Nashira Songleaders’ workshop at Olin-Sang-Ruby Union Institute Camp in Oconomowoc, Wisconsin.  Our Thursday morning service on May 30 began our consideration of the story of the scouts’ travels in the land of Canaan.  During Torah study at breakfast on Shabbat morning (which I was privileged to facilitate), we first shared stories of times when we had to overcome hesitation or apprehension in order to do to something we had never done before.  Later, the Shabbat morning service offered each of us a chance to join in group aliyot based on aspects of this biblical tale.  I took part in two of the aliyot: one for those who had felt, at some point in recent months, like the ten scouts, who “considered themselves as grasshoppers in the view of the Canaanites and in their own eyes”; and another aliyah for those who had exhibited and maintained, at some point in the last year, the positive outlook of Caleb and Joshua, even when some community members doubted our goals or beliefs.    Both of those extremes, and everything in between, characterize the rabbinate.  My goal as a rabbi has always been to communicate personal values and vision, even in subtle ways, and to have community members learn by example from me and, mainly, from one another, so that we can “go up” and journey on together.

   Over the years, Hava Nashira has offered me and many rabbis, cantors, cantorial soloists, songleaders and Jewish educators an opportunity to “go up,” to approach and arrive at a place where we had never been before in terms of our own experiences and abilities.  At Hava Nashira, that can include teaching and leading music in front of talented, knowledgeable and, especially, supportive music colleagues.  “Going up” might mean leading a service or song session with the composer/songwriter sitting right in front of you, adding his or her voice to the mix.  It might mean singing an original song or a cherished favorite at a late-night coffeehouse, or presenting a new original melody for a particular prayer at a sharing session or during worship.   Many participants enjoy attending primarily to receive, to listen and to learn.   The Hava Nashira community maintains an ongoing online network that nurtures friendships, professional partnerships, and interconnections that impact all corners of the Jewish world.  As for me, Hava Nashira continues to infuse my rabbinate – and my soul - with a renewed enthusiasm for Jewish life and with a constant reminder of the power of communal song.

     As I wrote this reflection, someone I know shared this quote (here in slight paraphrase) on Facebook from poet/writer Roy Lessin: “Life’s an adventure, for we don’t know how God will direct us from where we stand now. We need only to trust God to show us the way, who will reveal it in love day by day.”   I am grateful to my partners in this, my life’s adventure: my wife Rhonda; our son Adam; my brother and (rabbinic colleague) Steve and other family members; my classmates and other Jewish professional colleagues (rabbis, cantors, educators, soloists, songleaders, and many others); our many partners in enhancing Jewish life in Dayton (Ohio), Topeka (Kansas), Dover (New  Hampshire), and Las Cruces (New Mexico); the many members of the greater community with whom I have had the privilege of  creating common cause and mutual understanding; and my comrades in song both at “home” and at Hava Nashira, who have helped me make my rabbinate an ever-growing song to God and to the world. 

Harmony, serenity, wholeness and fairness - defining Peace - May 16, 2013

The final word of the priestly blessing in Numbers Chapter 6 is SHALOM – peace.”

  At the Temple Beth-El Las Cruces Board of Trustees meeting tonight, I asked the members to share what peace means to them.   Here are their responses (which include mine as well):

• A state of bliss
• Mutual respect among people
• An absence of disharmony
• Serenity
• A feeling of contentment and overall satisfaction with where you/your family are at a certain point in time
• A sense of contentment with who you are and your place in the world
• An absence of overt hostilities
• Completeness/wholeness
• Being alone on a hillside, watching the sunset.
• A feeling of well-being and harmony with the world.
• An absence of strife, internal and external
• The possibility of resolving any conflicts that arise so that disputes do not grow into greater conflict or war
• All members of society living amicably (external)
• To be calm inside and be able to express your feelings (internal)
• The outgrowth/result of a just society, when people feel they are treated fairly.
• The calm inside, within and between

How would you define peace?  

A Recipe for Being a Welcoming Community - Shavuot Morning - May 15, 2013

On Shavuot morning on May 15, 2013, I gave a presentation to the Temple Beth-El of Las Cruces Wednesday breakfast on “The Book of Ruth and what it teaches us about being welcoming.” Yes, it was a long title, but it was an important topic. This scroll assigned to Shavuot told the story of a family leaving a community, going to another, and then, due to unforeseen tragic circumstances, moving again, this time with a new family member who would become a focal point of commitment…and kindness.

     We began our discussion by enumerating how many different places we had lived.  I had counted 15 for myself (moving from one dormitory room to another was still a move because it was a change in living quarters). Some people in the group had lived in as few as five places, while others had lived in over 20 different residences over their lifetime.  We linked our own movement to that of Naomi and, eventually, her daughter-in-law Ruth.   I then asked about what it takes to be welcoming.  What should our attitude be to newcomers and guests?  What should we do for them?   Here is our list:

·     Be open to people.

·     Ask what you can do for them.

·     Offer assistance.

·     Invite guest/newcomers to your home.

·     Offer them food and drink.

·     Provide information about the congregation/community.

·     Be friendly.

·     Show compassion/be a good listener.

·     Be open-minded, inclusive and non-judgmental.

·     Treat them with kindness. 

·     Show an interest in them: their lives, their stories, and their hopes for living in this new community. 

As we discussed the main elements of the story of Ruth, we noted how Boaz, who had “gotten wind” of Ruth’s commitment to her mother-in-law, had formed an “assessment” of Ruth as someone who was loyal, kind, thoughtful, selfless, strong, and committed to family.   We discussed how Naomi had said, when her situation was at its worst, “call me Mara/bitter one,” a reflection of the stresses of moving from one place, where she had experienced the deaths of family members, back to her home community, with no reassurance that her life would improve.   Yet, Naomi exuded a rekindled spirit when she learned that Ruth had gone to glean in the field her husband’s relative, Boaz.   During the course of our discussion, we specifically recognized Ruth’s loyalty to Naomi (because she did not leave her side) and to Boaz (because she paid back his kindness to her, a “foreigner”--in her own words—with what was essentially a marriage proposal). 

    We concluded our discussion by reviewing our “recipe for welcoming” in relation to the book of Ruth. One character or another in the story had offered an example of every item on our list.   Between Naomi, Ruth, and Boaz, there was much to learn about opening our hearts and even our homes to someone new to our community.

   In the book of Ruth, acts of kindness and openness led to the marriage between Ruth and Boaz that, in turn, made possible the birth of King David several generations in the future.   That passage reminds us that every person who walks through the doors of our congregation to visit, to learn about the community or to join is important.  We never know where a conversation with a newcomer might lead, or how our hand extended in a warm welcome could make a difference.  Pirkei Avot teaches us, “there is no one who doesn’t have his or her time, and there is no thing that doesn’t have its place.”  May this story, and the values it teaches, lead us to see the significance of every human being, both those who are living among us now and those who are yet to come. 

Prayer for CAFe of Southern New Mexico (Communities in Action and Faith) Vigil for Citizenship - May 10, 2013

 Eternal One, Creator and Sustainer of us all

We are grateful for the opportunity

To be together

To Stand together

To make our voices heard.

On this morning, the words of the book of Leviticus

Reverberate in our minds and hearts

And they should resonate in the halls of Congress

As senators and representatives deliberate on

Immigration reform and a path to citizenship

for 11 million aspiring Americans who want to officially

Be acknowledged as members of our national community.

Those words from Leviticus to which I refer declare

WHEN STRANGERS RESIDE WITH YOU IN YOUR LAND, YOU SHALL NOT WRONG THEM. THE STRANGERS WHO RESIDE WITH YOU SHALL BE TO YOU AS YOUR CITIZENS; YOU SHALL LOVE EACH ONE AS YOURSELF, FOR YOU WERE STRANGERS IN THE LAND OF EGYPT.

If we love and respect aspiring citizens,

We will provide them with a timely path to citizenship. 

We will not separate them from their loved ones by arbitrary, impersonal and heartless deportations.

We will welcome them with open arms as our ancestors were welcomed when immigration was encouraged to strengthen our community. 

For too many people, love and respect have turned to fear – fear of the unknown, fear of the stranger, and, on the part of some Congressional representatives, including our own Representative Peace, fear that TOO many people will want to enter our country and overpopulate our land.

In the words of one Jewish popular songwriter, Neal Sedaka,

 who reflected in one song on his own family’s immigration to this country, THERE WAS A TIME WHEN STRANGERS WERE WELCOME HERE.

It is time to open our arms – our hearts – with reasonable standards  - with shorter timetables – to let those people – those children of God – who want to be members of our communities JOIN US in our land of freedom as full citizens.

We read in Leviticus that welcoming the stranger – not oppressing the stranger – is a holy act.

Eternal One, lead us to holiness, to hope as we grow in love and respect for each other.   And let us say amen.

Surrounding an island of fear with a sea of acceptance - Reflections on Diversity - May 5, 2013

       My wife Rhonda and I participated on a panel discussing diversity at a library in a nearby city this past weekend.  We and the other panelists were honored to share our perspectives on libraries and how they help to open up worlds of information about our existence for readers and through discussion of important books.   

       We expected the discussion to be about the topic at hand, and it was a very positive and wide-ranging conversation.  That is, until one person challenged whether or not the event should have happened at all at that library.   Her comments during the event were a departure from the questions asked by the majority of those present.   She was concerned about drawing attention to “diversity” in any way.    Her attempt to redirect the discussion to her viewpoint succeeded only briefly.  Everyone wanted to get back to what we all came to discuss. 

      I felt that I had to speak with her afterwards and thank her for coming.  Yet, in our conversation, she…

·    Accused me of feeling superior because I was seated on the panel in the front of the room and that I was, therefore, necessarily “talking down” to her.

·    Implied that I had nothing to teach her because I was from somewhere else. 

·    Was taken aback when I asked her name, then mocked me for asking as I walked away.  I did go back to continue the conversation.

·    Told me what she meant during the program when she asked, “Where is this discussion going?”  She claimed that the goal of the event was to place inappropriate material on display in the library because “it had happened in Colorado” and it had been attempted in that library as well.  I was told later that her claim was untrue.

·    Objected to tables in the room bearing books on various topics related to diversity, marked with signs defining the materials as dealing with cultural, religious, sexual/gender and ethnic differences.  When I told her that such a display was merely a mirror of reality, she snapped back that WE on the panel were defining diversity to leave HER out.  Of course, the categories of cultural, religious, ethnic, and gender difference included her. 

     Most people gathered at the event responded to this challenge with grace. One audience member spoke about God’s love.  Another attendee reiterated the widely-held religious belief that all are created in the divine image. I quoted Psalm 133,  “How good and how pleasant it is when people dwell together in unity,” noting that this sentiment should be our basis for wanting to understand each other. 

       I felt that this woman, a community leader, behaved towards me and my fellow panelists with inhospitality, hostility, disrespect. She made me feel unwelcome, a stranger.  She besmirched herself and, by extension, the community which she claims to represent.  She was in a room of people, however, who felt differently, who realize that diversity doesn’t mean that we have to agree, but that we do have a responsibility to listen and, if we are able, to disagree agreeably.  

     I have been the rabbi of congregations for many years with members who hold a wide range of political views and diverse positions on issue of the day.  I believe in carrying on lively conversations with congregants while still taking stands on issues that I consider crucial for the well-being of our society.

     Fortunately, the fear in that room was a small island in a sea of acceptance and a desire for mutual understanding.   It was a learning experience far beyond what I imagined it would be.  It reminded me that open-mindedness, agreeable disagreement and genuine dialogue, while affirming one another’s humanity, are essential to creating and sustaining a peaceful community.  I continue to have faith that we are up to the task.