Friday, January 18, 2019

Do We Have a Dream? Sermon - Parashat Beshallach and MLK weekend - January 18, 2019


I have a dream that my four children will one day
Live in a nation
Where they will not be judged by the color of their skin,
But by the content of their character.”
This declaration of a broad vision for humanity was
Central to the dream that the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr.
Articulated in his speech on August 28, 1963 at the March on Washington.
What would Dr. King say if he knew of current examples
 Of intractable hatred and racism?
We have heard about a Yale graduate student
Who happens to be black
Who was napping in a dormitory lounge
And accused of not belonging there by another student
Who called the police.
Then the graduate student was not believed by the police officers who confronted her
even when she took them into her own dorm room.
A current lawsuit by General Motors workers
At a plant in Toledo, Ohio
Cites the appearance of “Whites only” signs
Outside restrooms,
Nooses being hung in various places in the plant,
And one black supervisor being told
“Back in the day, you would have been buried
With a shovel.”
And there was the incident in late December
Of a black man staying
at a Doubletree Hotel in Portland, Oregon.
He was standing in the hotel lobby
Talking on the phone with his mother
When he was unexpectedly told
by a white security guard
that he was trespassing and
he was escorted out of the building.
It is an unfortunate truth that
Some people still have a problem
With difference.
An outward appearance
that some people see as “other”
Continues to instill fear that the person
Who is “different” poses a threat.  
After the shootings at Tree of Life Synagogue,
we know this all too well, but it was the victims
at the congregation that were seen as “different” and “dangerous.”
Perpetrators of acts of racism and violence
have no concern for the hurt they may cause.
All that matters is their perspective
That their targets don’t deserve human consideration. 
That runs counter to Dr. King’s dream.
In my reading of comments about the long-term impact
of the leadership of Dr. King,
One value that was often cited in the way he approached
the struggle for civil rights was empathy. 
If we know that someone is the victim
of hurt or prejudice,  
we need to feel it so we will do something
to make a change.  
In Dr. King’s vision,
Love is not reserved for just some people;
it is for everyone.
Justice is not reserved for only some people,
it is for everyone.
And the possibility of living a good life,
one of opportunity and even prosperity,
needs to encompass all people
So that the world can reap the benefits of true equality and understanding.
One of the great recent examples of empathy happened in the aftermath of the shootings at Tree of Life synagogue.
 The Rev. Eric S. C. Manning leads
Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston, South Carolina, the congregation where nine church members were shot to death on June 17, 2015 during a bible study class.   
Within a few days after the shooting in Pittsburgh,
Pastor Manning reached out to Rabbi Jeffrey Myers
of Tree of Life synagogue and told him he wanted to come to mourn with the community.  And so he did.
And in doing so, he demonstrated
The empathic impulse in humanity. 
We know that firsthand here at Temple Beth-El
 from the large crowd of local community members
Who attended our memorial service on October 28.
   The love, the concern, and the mutual support in the wake of both of those tragic events have overtaken fear and created deep human connections that were not there before.   People found a way  to reach out to each other, to feel each other’s pain, and to rejoice in the triumph of unity that can emerge when we extend hands and hearts in love and hope. 
  The Song at the Sea in the Torah reading for this Shabbat is a celebration, but one tinged with sadness.  The rabbis imagined the angels rejoicing in heaven at the deaths of the Egyptians in the Sea.   God rebuked the angels, saying, “My children are dying, and you sing praises?”  
   But the Israelites, down below, still rejoiced, because a God that believed in freedom for humanity had triumphed over an earthly ruler who saw himself as a god who perpetrated slavery and cruelty. 
    And it is still love, empathy, and acceptance that can lead us to become a united human family.
I remember
Being a member of my Temple junior choir
Participating in a city-wide faith community music festival in 1967
Which featured singers from Jewish and Christian congregations
From across the community,
Including at least one African-American church,
In Kansas City.
One of the songs we sang in the performance
Included these lyrics:
“Many the ways all of us pray to One God
Many the paths winding their way to One God
Brothers and sisters....there were no strangers
After the work was done
And your God and my God are One.”
That song by Dave Rotheray and Paul Heston
Offered a hopeful message
One that sought to promote interfaith understanding
And a vision that resonated with the dream
Of Martin Luther King, Jr.
We knew at that music festival 52 years ago
That our presence together
Might bring the world just a little closer to justice,
Acceptance and equality.
Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated about a year after that music festival. 
But the dream lived on then as it does now.   
Let us not forget what it feels like
to be the victims of hatred,
but let us also remember
What it feels like to rejoice and to join with others in celebration knowing that
freedom, justice and love will ultimately prevail. 

Thursday, January 17, 2019

Invocation - Temple Beth-El Las Cruces Board meeting - January 17, 2019


Eternal God,

Inspiration to Moses and Aaron,

Liberator of a people,

Watchful companion along our centuries-long path, 

Join us as we move forward into the future. 

Guide us in our creativity and judgment

To consider the needs of our congregation 

And the greater community 

So that we will continue to learn from one another

And to teach each other

To care, 

To build, 

To speak from the heart,

To listen, 

To support,

To give,

To feel, 

To overcome fear,

To rejoice, 

To unite,

And to love.

May our combined energies

Enable us to realize our dreams

Of a community and a world

Where differences offer opportunities

To forge deeper understanding;

Where conflict gives way to cooperation;

And where we see people of all backgrounds 

As fellow travelers,

Walking together from generation to generation

Towards the light that will ultimately overtake

Any darkness that could keep us from truly seeing one another.   

As You, O God, reach out to us 

Every moment of our lives, 

May the open hands that we extend 

in friendship to our fellow human beings 

Be an expression of all that You want us to be 

Our Creator

Our Teacher

Our Hope.

And we say

Amen.   

Sunday, January 13, 2019

There’s always time for hope - January 13, 2019

      I have noticed a trend in Reform Jewish worship in recent years.  

       At some regional and national conventions I have attended, leaders of some of the worship services leave out a prayer that expresses a sentiment which I believe to be all-important and foundational to Judaism. 

       That prayer is about hope. 

      I can hear and see in my mind the words of the prayer on this theme that we recited when I was a child. It followed “Va-anachnu” (we bend the knee...) and preceded “Bayom Hahu” (on that day, the Eternal shall be One and God’s name shall be one.” 

       Here is the paragraph from the 1940 revision of the Union Prayer Book (published by the Central Conference of American Rabbis/CCAR) that became ingrained in my memory and my soul (with a few emendations):   

  “May the time not be distant, O God, when Your name shall be worshiped in all the earth, when unbelief shall disappear and error be no more. Fervently we pray that the day may come when all people shall invoke Your name, when corruption and evil shall give way to purity and goodness, when superstition shall no longer enslave the mind, nor idolatry blind the eye, when all who dwell on earth shall know that to You alone every knee must bend and every tongue give homage. O may all, created in Your image, recognize that they are brothers and sisters, so that, one in spirit and one in fellowship, they may be forever united before Your. Then shall Your dominion be established on earth and the word of Your ancient prophet be fulfilled: The Eternal will reign forever and ever.” 

     Gates of Prayer (CCAR, 1975) and Gates of Repentance (CCAR, 1979) featured a slightly revised version of this prayer.  Mishkan T’filah (CCAR 2007) also includes a new rendering based on the texts of past prayerbooks. 

     No matter what the specific wording might be, this reading acts as a bridge between “We will bend our knee and bow and give thanks to the Holy One” and “On that day.”   In fact, in my view, it makes no sense to move from the first prayer to the second one without a reading in between that specifies what we believe to be the nature and character of “that day.”   

    I am certain that the omission of this prayer by some worship leaders is a matter of timing, based on a sense that, at that point, it is best to quickly press forward to conclude the service. 

      While leading music at a service at a regional rabbinic conference last year, I led my musical setting of  an alternative “hope” prayer, written by Rabbi Richard Levy, which was included in Mishkan T’filah.  Before I sang it, I said, “We are going to sing my melody to Rabbi Levy’s reading before moving on to the Kaddish prayer.  There is always time for hope.”  And we joined together, intoning these words: 

    “May we gain wisdom in our lives, overflowing like a river with understanding. Loved, each of us, for the peace we bring to others. May our deeds exceed our speech, and may we never lift up our hand but to conquer fear and doubt and despair. Rise up like the sun, O God, over all humanity. Cause light to go forth over all the lands between the seas. And light up the universe with the joy of wholeness, of freedom, and of peace.”     

    When I created the melody, I incorporated the Hebrew of “on that day” into the song as a refrain in the middle and at the end. (Here is a link to a live recording of the prayer/song): 


May We Gain Wisdom/Bayom Hahu - Music by Larry Karol - live at NewCAJE 2015 (with Cantor Martin Levson and Mitch Gordon)


     So what “hopes” for humanity and our world do these two readings have in common? 

  • Wisdom and understanding. 
  • An end to corruption, evil, and all types of idolatry,  coupled with the ability to conquer fear, doubt and despair. 
  • A sense of godliness and goodness in the belief and actions of all humanity 
  • Recognition of our common humanity in a spirit of unity and fellowship, that can lead to peace. 

    Should we really gloss over or omit these convictions from our worship?   Is it possible that we do because we no longer believe we can attain them? 

     Any service that I lead includes some version of this prayer for hope.  These prayers offer us inspiration to engender empathy and compassion within our communal life.  They direct us to overcome fear of “the other” and to try to discover the common threads that can bring together people who come from different backgrounds, faiths and viewpoints.   Even if the goals expressed in a prayer for hope seem to be out of our grasp, we can’t throw up our hands and give up.   

    In a song they wrote in 2010, folksingers Pete Seeger and Lorre Wyatt offered one reason why we can’t give up:   “When we look and we see things are not what they should be, God’s counting on me, God’s counting on you....Hoping we’ll all pull through.” 

   And, in the Sayings of the Rabbis/Pirkei Avot, Rabbi Tarfon offered another reason: “It’s not your duty to complete the work, but neither are free to neglect it.” 

    God is counting on us to keep working and hoping, so that others can continue our efforts in the future. 

   And I truly believe, even now, that we will all pull through. 



   


Friday, January 4, 2019

Faith evolves over the course of our lives - Column for Las Cruces Bulletin on January 4, 2019

       Everyone traverses a unique faith journey throughout his or her life.  

  I once attended a workshop on how our faith develops throughout our lives.  It was led by Kenneth Stokes, author of Faith is a Verb: Dynamics of Adult Faith Development.  

    Stokes defined faith as “finding meaning and purpose in life” within our accumulated experiences.   Through learning, joining, exploring, and developing/owning our own perspectives, our personal faith takes shape.  

    Finding our own sense of purpose can occur within the context of one or more religions or outside congregational life. We may undergo changes in what we believe as we search for greater meaning through rituals, experimentation, and performing acts of kindness and service for others.   

        My own family’s faith history is like that of many Jews who immigrated to the United States from Eastern Europe.  My grandparents belonged to Orthodox congregations in Kansas City.   Orthodox Judaism follows Jewish law and tradition as it has been passed down for generations, with some reinterpretation by rabbis that might modify specific practices at home and in the community.  My grandparents kept Jewish dietary laws in their homes (only kosher meat, separation of meat and dairy foods and utensils, no pork or shellfish).  They likely did not work on the Sabbath (Saturday).  Boys became Bar Mitzvah at age 13 and men held the main leadership roles in the community. 

     When my brother Steve and I were young, my parents were members of a Conservative congregation. The Conservative movement views Jewish law and tradition as an obligation for its members to follow.  Conservative Judaism teaches the importance of Sabbath observance and keeping dietary laws.  This movement has, at times, decided on major changes in practice, such as opening to women the possibility of becoming rabbis, cantors (singers), and leaders in all aspects of congregational life.    

      When I was four years old, my parents joined a new Reform Jewish congregation in Kansas City, and, several years later, they became members of a larger Reform Temple, where they were active for forty years.  Reform Judaism views Jewish law as a guideline that can direct personal practice and inspire creativity. Early on, Reform Jewish leaders emphasized moral laws and prophetic teachings over and above preserving traditional forms of ritual (such as the dietary laws).   Women took on roles of leadership gradually, with the first woman rabbi being ordained in 1972.  As early as the 1880s, Religious School graduation ceremonies (Confirmation) at age 15 were for both boys and girls, with Bar and Bat Mitzvah celebrations being added over the last 60 years.  Worship featured choirs, musical accompaniment, and creative readings and translations of time-honored prayers (as distinguished from Orthodox practice). 

     Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan founded the Reconstructionist movement, which takes both a rational and a spiritual approach to Judaism, keeping many long-standing rituals while adding many innovations along the way.  Rabbi Kaplan’s daughter, Judith, was, in 1922, the first young woman to become Bat Mitzvah by leading part of a Sabbath service.   

    Over the years, I adopted traditional practices such as wearing a kippah/yarmulke and tallit/prayer shawl during worship and observing the Jewish dietary laws.  I made those decisions to further my own feeling of connection to my heritage and to God. 

    Each of us has the possibility of pursuing a quest for meaning and purpose in life. It is not only about what we believe, but about what we do to express those beliefs by ourselves or with a community. May we all find peace and hope along whatever road we choose. 






Tuesday, January 1, 2019

Musical Resistance - Preserving Hope and Kindness - original songs of recent years

 When I write in any medium, it is, first and foremost, my personal expression.  Whether prose, poetry, story, or song lyrics, it’s all the same.     

The songs offer something more through the combination of lyrics and melody.  It’s my way of putting what’s in my soul on the outside in a way that might resonate with others or, at least, make them think.   

Of the 17 songs I have written over the last two years, several of them focus on values mentioned in the title - hope and kindness - which are at the center of what I do as a rabbi. 

Here are the songs I would include on this “playlist”:

1) Or La-y’sharim - Light for the Upright - Adaptation/lyrics and music by Larry Karol 
This song was based on verses about light included in the Chanukah candlelighting guide, HANEROT HALALU, by Elyse Frishman, published by the Central Conference of American Rabbis.   I was intrigued by the symbol of light and the power of love.    I added a paraphrase of a well-known statement by the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. 
For lsongs on reverbnation, you can find the lyrics by clicking on the “dots” at the right of each song and the “lyric” link will be visible.  


2) If Not Now - Words by Stacey Z. Robinson, Music by Larry Karol 
Stacey Robinson, a wonderful poet/writer/liturgist and my music colleague, shared this poem after the tragic death of a demonstrator at the rally in Charlottesville, Virginia in August of 2017.   After seeing this posted online, I felt that I had to add music to it in order to offer my own statement.  I offer two versions - my multitrack recording and a live performance from the November 2017 Shabbat Shira conference held at Olin-Sang-Ruby Union Institute Camp in Oconomowoc, Wisconsin. 


3) Strength and Shelter (Psalm 46)  Adaptation/lyrics and music by Larry Karol 
   Songs asking for strength and shelter from God are about persistence and endurance in most any situation.  Having a sense of God’s presence can sustain us as we take a stand based on values we prize.     

4) Inheritance (Psalm 37) Adaptation/English lyrics and music by Larry Karol 
“The meek/humble will inherit the earth.”  Admittedly, the first time I heard this phrase was not from bible study, or from the reference in the Sermon on the Mount in the New Testament.  It was quoted as “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit” in Paul Simon’s song, “Blessed.”   The word for “the meek,” ANAVIM, can also mean those who are humble.  Sometimes I think people in this world are losing their sense of the importance of humility in human behavior.   I have never believed that it’s only loud and brash voices that win the day. Humility can mean knowing that each person is not the be-all and end-all of existence.  It’s like the saying of Rabbi Simcha - I have two truths in my pockets: “I am but dust and ashes” and “for my sake, the world was created.”   Advocacy and communication, and how we treat each other, is about balane.  


5) A Song of Love and Justice (Psalm 101). Adaptation/English lyrics and music by Larry Karol 
   Sometimes I peruse the book of Psalms, looking for a particularly meaningful expressions of values. Psalm 101 speaks of kindness, justice, faithfulness, and integrity.   In my mind, this Psalm challenges us to stand with God and follow godly paths.   I turned one section of the lyrics into a dialogue with the divine representing that challenge: 

A song of love and justice

To You I will sing

When will You stand with me? 

When will you stand with Me?

I will walk with a heart full of hope

When will You follow me?

When will you follow Me? 

  I feel it must be mutual for this world to work the way it should. 

 “I’ve decided to stick with love” was a wonderful quote from the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. that seemed to echo some of the sentiments of Psalm 101.   I decided to incorporate his words into this song. 



6). Heart of the Stranger (An Immigrant Song)  Lyrics and music by Larry Karol 
  I had been thinking about writing a song in which I imagined that I was one of my grandparents, entering this country at a young age, hoping that the immigration official I encountered would be welcoming and kind rather than demonstrating cruelty that might have mirrored the hallmark of officials in the “old country” who had no use for Jews.    With the movement of so many people in this world at this time, seeking safety and freedom from threats to their lives and well-being back home, I wrote this song from the perspective of a child who knows his or her bible, think of the passages that ask commanded the Israelites to be kind to the stranger, because they knew the heart of the stranger.  I took the biblical quote to that effect from Leviticus 19, a verse I read every Yom Kippur afternoon.   This isn’t just a song of an immigrant - it’s a prayer, and it puts God alongside the person walking on his or her journey, hoping to find security and freedom.   


There will be more songs like this, without a doubt.   I offer these fruits of my musical creativity as an example of how music can embody the principles of our faith and the goals for our relationships with people whom we know, and others whom we don’t yet know, in this world that needs our hope and kindness. 

Monday, December 31, 2018

Listen...for the Oneness - A Poem/Prayer - for the Temple Beth-El Las Cruces January 19 Adelante Newsletter



Eternal God,
I declared again that you are One    
as I prepared for worship with my  
congregation on this coming Shabbat.
The Torah asks several times,
in the book of Deuteronomy,
for “Israel” to listen. 
I am Israel.  I am one among many who are Israel. 
I am Israel because my ancestry
is filled with generations
of members of the Jewish people. 
I am Israel because I am a struggler with You
as I look upon a world that does not always reflect
the relationships You want us to develop,
and the love You want us to extend to one another.
And I am listening.
I hear words that direct me to love You
and to love my fellow human beings.
I hear voices that cry for help and support.
I hear cries for freedom and
desperate prayers that call for an end
to oppression and hatred. 
I hear the sounds of my own community in prayer
singing together
Shema Yisrael: Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai Echad.
No matter what the melody may be,
this declaration guides me. 
I call You our God, our YUD-HAY-VAV-HAY
because I believe that the letters in Your name
speak to the very essence of our existence:
BEING and BREATH.
The root word of Your name
means “is, was, will be”: EXISTENCE.
The letters themselves
can all be vowels that are quiet, even silent.
When spoken, they are like breathing,
expressing the self-contained rhythm
of our individual lives,
a rhythm which sustains all of us,
connecting us within a Oneness
that encompasses us all.
That Oneness is You. 
Some say that only You are real
and that we are actually inside of You.
Others say that You are an Intrinsic Presence
inside and outside each of us,
binding everything together
in ways which we recognize best
only when we close our eyes,
because we see only difference and division
when our eyes are open.
We often forget that,
when we say You are One,
we are professing connectedness
between one human being and another
and affirming our collective presence
in this world where we find ourselves,
trying to coexist in ways
that will prevent hurt and destruction.
Shema Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu Adonai Echad
is an admission that we have a responsibility to         
reflect and practice, in all that we do,
Your love, Your care, and Your compassion
as we walk through our daily journey.
Shema Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu Adonai Echad
demands of us not to shut each other out.
It challenges us to find paths to understanding,
to turn conflict into cooperation,
and to discover new ways to forge partnerships
that will truly make us one as You are One.
Shema Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu Adonai Echad
is a phrase that I have been saying and singing,
Eternal One, from my youngest days until now.
The sounds of many voices singing these words
as if they were one voice
stirs my soul
and reminds me that we have it within ourselves          
to truly connect with one another,                                 
to know one another,
and to accept one another
once and for all.
Be with us, Eternal, our God,
in whom we are One,
as we strive to create among us
some measure of the Unity
that is You.


Friday, December 28, 2018

Unconsumed - D'var Torah (An Original Midrash) for Parashat Sh'mot - December 28, 2018


     It was a hot day in the desert.   I did feel a trace of breeze blowing through my branches, but the air was still warm as it touched my leaves.
   There was very little movement around me.   I was mostly hidden from the shepherds passing by with their flocks.   The sounds of the sheep as they made their way forward always made me happy, reassuring me that there was growth and life all around me.
  One day, I felt a different wind engulf me. 
  It spoke to me.
  “Can you hear me?  Do you feel my presence?”
 I shook my leaves, as if to nod in acknowledgement.
  “You are a beautiful S’NEH (bush). You offer unique color to the terrain around you, here in this corner of the desert.”
   I had no idea why, all of a sudden, a voice addressed me.   I was speechless, as if I could talk at all, but I was overwhelmed.   Who was speaking to me?
   “Who are you?  It has been a hot but quiet day.  Why have you made your presence known to me?”
   “You don’t know?” Asked the voice.  “Certainly even a S’NEH such as you can recognize the One who created you.” 
    “My Creator?  You mean, you are.....the Eternal - the One who is always here?  The One has put life into my roots and branches and leaves?”
   “Yes, it is I who gives you existence now and who made your ancestors come to be.     I need something from you.”   The Eternal’s voice had a sense of urgency.
    “I know that you have heard the shepherds coming by with their flocks.  They rarely stop to see you.  I need one shepherd to see you.”  
     I was puzzled. “Eternal One, why would this particular shepherd need to see me?  And how will I get his attention?   I can’t cry out or shake my branches so that the sound will be heard all around.”  
     My Creator answered me, “I have a way to make you seem to be on fire.  You will have a brilliant appearance that will beckon this one man to come to see why you look like you are burning AND why the fire is not destroying you.”  
      “I will need him to see you because of the spectacle of your ability to defy being consumed by the fire.  You see, this man, Moses, was raised not too far away in Egypt by the rulers of the country.  He is not one of them.   He is a Hebrew. You have sensed the passing of Hebrews moving in the desert not too far from you from time to time.  Some of them are now slaves in Egypt.  They are made to do hard work, and if they don’t complete their daily tasks, they may be cruelly beaten, even killed.   Moses has fled because he was so angered when he saw a taskmaster beating a slave that he murdered the Egyptian to end the heartless treatment of one of his brethren.”
  “I need you need to teach Moses this lesson:  that even though it may seem that his people will be vanquished under the harsh labor of the Egyptians, they will not be.  Nothing, not even this level of cruelty, can consume them, just like the apparent fire will not consume you.  I will speak to him from your leaves and branches, and he will hear my voice, and he will know that I will be with him as I direct him to free his people from bondage.”
   I couldn’t believe this honor that my Creator would think to bestow upon me. 
“Eternal One, I am humbled by your request.   Please, do what you need to do, make Your presence known to Moses through me.  I will help you and Moses bring freedom to his people.”
   Moses came, and his people were freed with God’s help.
    And as for me...that glow from my Creator still remained.  And I realized how my life had changed.   I knew that, when people would tell this story, I would always be a symbol of the possibility of endurance and perseverance against seemingly insurmountable odds - but only if people would turn aside, open their eyes, and see that God always stands ready to carry them to a new place of promise and hope.  
     I pray from the depth of my roots that they will, in their time of need, turn aside, open their eyes, and see.