Song as an Expression of Faith and Spirit - for Ten Minutes of Torah - Union for Reform Judaism - March 27, 2014

In my congregation's Tanach study group, we recently focused on the story of Samson in the book of Judges. As we began our discussion, I played a clip of the song "If I Had My Way" written by Reverend Gary Davis. As we moved into the text, it was clear that verse and song play a major role in this tale. Samson supposedly "said" his short rhyme (Judges 15:16) about picking up a donkey's jawbone and using it to defend himself against the attack of 1,000 Philistine men. However, because in that moment "the spirit of the Eternal gripped him," I wondered if Samson had sung those lines.

In the next chapter, Samson's hair has been cut off thanks to Delilah's power to persuade Samson to share the secret of his strength. His eyes have been put out and it seems he is at the mercy of the Philistines – but not completely. When the Philistines gather at the temple of their god, Dagon, to celebrate this great triumph over their Israelite adversary, they sing to their god who has delivered Samson into their hands (Judges 16:23-24). Our study group noted that the text would have been complete without the song of the Philistines. Why were these short choruses, chanted by the people, preserved in this passage? We concluded that the singing heightened the drama of the moment. It wasn't simply a quiet sacrifice before the people, but a time to "make merry" at their victory over the supposedly powerless Samson. It is clear to the reader, but not to the unsuspecting Philistines, that as Samson's hair begins to grow back, he will have the strength to get back at the Philistines after they've made him dance for them.

We know the rest of the story. The lyrics of the Reverend Gary Davis' song declare, "If I had my way, I would tear this building down." And so Samson does. Samson's action stands in contrast to the Philistines' celebratory singing and dancing (a misguided celebration, in the view of the biblical author). In a way, Rev. Davis' song can be viewed as a long-delayed answer to the Philistine chanting against Samson – a midrash that gives the Israelite strong-man one last chance to sing with resolve and power.

Song is powerful as an expression of faith and spirit, adding an extra dimension to well-worded prose, whether in the Bible or other sacred texts, and even in our daily lives. We have just finished the celebration of Purim and are approaching the observance of Pesach. What would these holidays be without song? Imagine Purim with no music and no Purim spiel. Imagine a Passover seder with no singing of the Four Questions, "Dayenu," the Hallel psalms, or "Chad Gadya." And what would these holidays be without newly-composed melodies and new songs that add meaning for us? On Purim, one of my favorite additions to the 'Purim spiel in several verses' genre is Cantor Aviva Rosenbloom's "Megillah," set to the tune of the Beatles' "Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da." For Passover, Debbie Friedman's "The Plagues Song" and the Allards'  "Ten Plagues in Egypt Land" take a potentially difficult text and offer a perspective that includes learning the lesson that hatred and prejudice have a way of coming back to those who espouse such views.

In a recent class with my seventh graders, we took a look at Psalm 51. Each time we recite the Amidah (standing prayer) in our worship, we begin with the best-known verse from Psalm 51, "Adonai, open my lips, that my mouth may declare Your praise." Psalm 51 is noted as King David's personal plea to God to ask for forgiveness and to forgive himself for the episode with Bathsheba. Canadian singer/songwriter Leonard Cohen practically wrote his own version of Psalm 51 with the song "Hallelujah", which refers to this biblical story. Cohen speaks of "broken" hal'luyah, which appropriately describes those moments when we may feel unable or unworthy to praise God or to look positively at our lives. At those times, we especially need song and the voices of others singing with us to lift us up and to help us return to the joy of our lives.

Psalm 4 reminds us that God has put joy in our hearts("Natatah Simchah" is an original song based on Psalm 4).  Whether on holidays, in worship, at times of need, or in moments of celebration, may we always remember to look into our hearts and "open our lips" to sing of the joy that is always within our reach!

Additional Links
Hallelujah by John Cale (the singer in actual soundtrack of "Shrek")
Hallelujah - Leonard Cohen
If I Had My Way - Peter, Paul and Mary

"Spiritual Healing" - D'var Torah - Parashat Tazria - March 28, 2014

      We have arrived in our cycle of Torah readings at one that has challenged rabbis for centuries.   This year, as a Jewish leap year, splits what is usually one parashah into two. 

This week, we read Tazria, the beginning of the biblical description of how the ancient priests dealt with community members who could possibly be diagnosed with what we now call Hansen's disease, otherwise known as  leprosy (many suggest that leprosy had not yet "arrived" in the Middle East; Robert Alter uses the term "skin blanch").    Next week, the portion Metzora will complete this involved set of standards for examination, possible quarantine, and eventual restoration to the community.

    In his Torah commentary, Richard Elliot Friedman focused on what this section really means.   While it may appear to have put the Kohein in the role of doctor, that was not the case.   The rabbis reinterpreted the word for leprosy, METZORA, to read MOTZI SHEIM RA, one who brings out an evil word - that is, gossip. That made for interesting commentary, but this section had nothing to do with gossip or with a disease caused by bad behavior.  

    It just was what it was - a situation in which the priest had to make a distinction between what was pure and what was impure, especially as it related to a person being eligible to take part in ritual and communal life. 

     As I considered this issue of purity and impurity and how it relates to our lives today, my thoughts wandered to the recent case of the Grand Junction, Colorado Charter School, Caprock Academy, which applied one of its grooming rules to a student based on surface considerations rather than getting at the heart of the matter.  First, we should hear what their school rules say about the hair of female students: "Should be neatly combed or styled. No shaved heads. Hair accessories must be red, white, navy, black or brown. Neat barrettes and headbands...are permissible. Hair should not be arranged or colored so as to draw undue attention to the student. Hair must be natural looking and conservative in its color. Radical changes in hair color during the school year are unacceptable."

      A school has a right to set such rules and to apply them.  Yet, unexpected exceptions can arise.

     9 year old Delaney Clement, a student at Caprock Academy, recently had her head shaved as she prepared to begin chemotherapy.  Another student, Kamryn Renfrom, decided to shave her head in solidarity with her good friend Delaney, so that Delaney wouldn't feel alone. 

     At first, the school decided that Kamryn had violated the school grooming rules.  That was the decision this past Monday.  Kamryn was prohibited from attending school until her hair grew back.   On Tuesday, the charter school board met again and, on a 3-1 vote, reinstated Kamryn.  The board members noted that they were making an exception in this case due to extenuating  circumstances.  The board member who voted no was afraid of setting an exceedingly lenient precedent for the application of school rules in the future.

     We can applaud the school board for exhibiting some eventual wisdom.   On a scale of pure to impure, it was not just Kamryn's appearance that would make the difference.   It was her motivation as well.   What appeared to be intentional defiance of school will was actually a case of compassion and friendship.   In the end, this story gained national exposure.  This comes at a time when some of my rabbinic colleagues are preparing to shave their heads to raise funds for the St. Baldrick's Foundation next week during the Central Conference of American Rabbis convention.  They are doing so to honor the memory of Sam Sommer, a child of two of our colleagues who died of cancer this past December.   These rabbis - and Kamryn - hope that their actions and pure motives will bring healing as they raise awareness related to cancer patients and highlight the need for more research.    

     Even if the ancient rabbis may have missed the point of this section, as claimed by Richard Elliott Friedman, our sages used their reinterpretation of the word METZORA to link this section to a quote in Proverbs Chapter 6, rendered so well by Rabbi Rami Shapiro:

“Six things cut you off from the holy,

a seventh makes even your soul a monster:

an arrogant manner, a deceitful tongue, murderous thoughts,

a thieving heart, feet eager to run after evil, a scheming mind,

and a tendency to arouse violence in those who once lived in peace.

   The bible's book of wisdom identified, in that passage, some of the central ills within communities and nations that can sow seeds of conflict instead of cooperation, hatred instead of hope.

    If it is purity of motive and spirit that we seek in our world, then we need to be vigilant enough to bring healing from these ills.

   So we pray:

Eternal God, heal us from arrogance that prevents us from recognizing your image in every person.

Heal us from those who use deceit to further their goals and help us to achieve our highest objectives through honesty and hard work.

Heal us from murderous thoughts that would discourage us from even attempting to get to know and humanize people with whom we disagree.

Heal us from a thieving heart that fails to respect boundaries and the possessions and feelings of others.

Heal us from the desire to run after evil and enable us to stand up to those who would distort the truth to further malicious intentions0.

Heal us from a scheming mind that would seek to undo the well-being of others, and draw us near to those who would plan in the depth of their hearts how to spread joy and inner strength.

And heal us from those desires that would lead us to violent thought or action, so that we will, instead, resolve conflict with words, with a recognition of our common interests, and with a commitment to engendering mutual understanding.

   Like the ancient priests, I believe that we can tell the difference between impure and pure.  In our thoughts, in our actions, in our dealings as members of a community, may we always apply that special wisdom that will guide us to harmony and peace.  

Ritual, Morality and Prophetic Justice - D'var Torah on Parashat (Torah portion) Tzav - March 14, 2014

   The Book of Leviticus presents a challenge to us, especially because none of us have witnessed the actual performance of the rituals of sacrifice.

    Chapter 6 of Leviticus begins with the prescribed procedure for the Burnt offering, the OLAH.  This passage doesn't focus only on the sacrifice itself.   It refers more than once to a perpetual fire that the priest was commanded to keep burning on the altar.

     This section also describes the process by which the priest would take the ashes from the sacrifice to a pure place outside the camp.   In his Union for Reform Judaism Ten Minutes of Torah commentary this week, Robert Tornberg likened this priestly act to "taking out the garbage."    The priest only attended to that task once he had removed the vestments he wore for the sacrifice and put on other garments reserved for his errand of ash disposal. 

    After reading this passage with fresh eyes this week, I thought about how it relates to us as we strive to apply Jewish values to our daily lives.   What might the removal of ashes represent?  What does the fire signify?

    The rabbis explained that the altar fire was not just burning "upon it," corresponding to the Hebrew word BO, where “it” was the altar.  BO could mean that the fire was burning "in him," in the priest.

 The fire represented the spark of God inside the priest and within every human being.  And what is that spark of God?  I believe it is that God and godliness become real in what we do, in how we treat each other.   

    So if the altar had to be cleansed and made ready for the next sacrifice, what are the ways that we can make ourselves as morally pure as possible?

    The words of the prophet Isaiah come to mind from Chapter 1, verses 16-18. He told his people what God expected of them and how they could keep themselves pure:  “Wash yourselves clean; put away your evil doings away from my sight. Cease to do evil; learn to do good, devote yourselves to justice, aid the wronged, uphold the rights of the orphan, defend the cause of the widow.”  

   A moral cleansing didn’t just apply to one’s own personal errors in judgment.   It extended to how everyone treated the most vulnerable people in society  back then.   And it still relates to those attitudes now.   We hear, too many times, that people who are low on the socioeconomic ladder deserve to be there through their lack of desire to change their position or their overdependence on outside support.   In one recent article, Harvard professor and author Robert Putnam noted that it is, in fact, the help that people in poverty receive that give them enough hope to work harder to make ends meet or to get the training necessary to find a better job.  

   This Torah reading might teach us that the ashes that we need to remove from the altar of society are narrow views about the nature of people who need our support and assistance.  We should recognize that they are truly like everyone else, and that they want to reach a personal level of subsistence and comfort. 

   I recently reviewed another text that speaks about “cleansing our souls” with my seventh graders.  We examined the Psalm from which comes the verse that begins the T'filah, the central section of the service: "Eternal God, open my lips, that my mouth may declare your praise."    Psalm 51 is associated with the story of David and Bathsheba.  After King David

arranged to have Bathsheba's husband sent out to a battle where death was certain, Nathan the prophet confronted David with his transgression.   It was this Psalm that David is said to have composed in response to his guilt. 

    He crafted his words using some of the same imagery as Isaiah: "Have mercy upon me, O God, as befits your faithfulness; in keeping with your abundant compassion, blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly of my iniquity, and purify me of my sin." 

   Leonard Cohen's well-known song "Hallelujah" portrays King David at the time of this episode.   In Cohen’s lyrics, David offered God a "broken"  Hallelujah.   The message of Psalm 51 and Leonard Cohen's song are clear:  we can still praise God even when we are broken, even before we have taken the ashes outside the camp.   We can offer praise, heal ourselves and return to a moral path because of that godly fire that is burning within the altar of our soul.  

   It is significant that Judaism, a religion of ritual, has always so greatly emphasized morality as essential to being close to the divine.   This week, our Psalms class studied Psalm 15, which begins with this declaration: "Eternal One, who may sojourn in Your tent?  Who may dwell on Your holy mountain? One who lives without blame, who does what is right, and in his/her heart acknowledges the truth."  

    We wondered if this passage applied only to those who observed Judaism or whether it might extend to all humanity.   I would assert that the response should be YES and YES.    Standing with God means always being conscious of the consequences of our actions, no matter what faith tradition we follow.  

   The first items on this "being close to God" list in Psalm 15 are being blameless, doing what is right, and acknowledging the truth.  

    How do we know what is right and what is really the truth?    We are blameless and right, and we have the proper sense of the truth  when we listen not only to ourselves but also when we learn from other people.

   The truth that we acknowledge in our hearts may come from the still, small, voice of conscience guiding us to practice our most treasured values, especially those that lead us to treat all people with respect and to refrain from exploiting or oppressing anyone.  

    Between the messages of the Torah reading, the declarations of Isaiah, and the reflections of the Psalmist, we have before us a vision of what I would call "prophetic justice."   As the priest kept a fire burning on the altar, while taking the ashes outside the settlement, we are called upon to feed the fire of goodness, respect, generosity, and righteousness within us.   We are asked to banish outside the realm of acceptable behavior those actions that dehumanize people through prejudice and through inaccurate notions that stigmatize them to the point of ostracism from society.  

   We have the opportunity to stand on God's holy mountain, with a fire of goodness and of love burning inside of us.   May we ascend that mountain always with a constantly renewed sense of commitment, determination and hope. 

Remembering where we are - D'var Torah for Temple Board Meeting on February 27, 2014

Standing before the ark for my Board
"portrait" on February 27, 2014

The Torah readings for last week and this week deals with create the sacred space of the worship of the Israelites and the holy garments worn by the priests as they led daily and holiday rituals

   There was also a reference to holy time – the one day that is set apart and sacred is  Shabbat. 

   Ancient definitions of holy time and holy space apply to us today as well.

   At home, the Shabbat table and the Seder table are certainly social, but they are also holy and special.

    The Sanctuary is holy space.  We tell our Religious School students to remember where they are when they are sitting in the sanctuary.  That applies to all of us during Shabbat and holiday services when sacred time and space come together. 

    Before a minyan at the home of a bereaved family, and our gathering during a funeral service and by the graveside both holy time and holy space.  Conversation, supportive expressions and perhaps even laughter in remembering the loved one who has died all are holy.  Even sharing food after a funeral or at a shiv’ah house is a sacred act.

    Our leadership at Temple is holy as well, where we are called to behave in a way that others would hope to emulate to create a caring, spirited, active and loving community. 

    We know what holiness is and can be.  Let’s remember to strive for that holiness in all we do.

Shaping a Holy Community to bring God close - D'var Torah for Parashat Pekuday - February 28, 2014 (with reflections on the PICO Convocation)

Leading singing with Rev. Michael-Ray Mathews to begin
the PICO Convocation

    Earlier this week, I represented CAFé of Southern New Mexico at the convocation of the national organization PICO, People Improving Communities through Organizing. 

   We gathered for a two-fold purpose. First, we created a new body of leaders that will act as a liaison between local affiliates and the national leadership.  The group will engage in visioning to guide the entire network in non-profit advocacy of pressing issues facing the American people, especially those who may not feel empowered to speak for themselves.

    The other reason we gathered near Atlanta was to seriously discuss the topic of race and how it affects our work.  We tried to make sure that our relationships are giving people of all backgrounds in our network the opportunity to share their concerns and act on their values. 

CAFe Executive Director Sarah Nolan discusses the topic
of race and leadership

   The content of our discussions was really not unlike the reading “May the door of this synagogue” that we recited earlier in the service.  That prayer expresses principles that should direct us in how we treat each other, how we welcome newcomers into our space, and how we can give every person among us a chance to discover meaning inside this sanctuary that can be made real in daily life.

Our first-night communal circle at the PICO Convocation

    One of the speakers at our event, Pastor Antoine Barriere of New Orleans, has worked hard to improve education in his city and to prevent the spread of local for-profit jails that only thrive when they are full, and where laws are passed to make certain that such is the case.   Pastor Barriere spoke about how we need to adopt “God goals” for our work in the community.  He related our efforts to bring about change to the story of Joshua leading the Israelites.  He explained that God had already given the people the land.   To “seal the deal,” so to speak, they just had to take it through their own actions and power.  

     Also this week, the Union for Reform Judaism offered a webinar presentation, led by Rabbi Peter Knobel, that explored biblical stories of redemption.   Rabbi Knobel focused on examples when God and human beings partnered to bring redemption, borne out especially in the tale of Moses as well as the story of Jonah. 

     He also cited examples of human redeemers for whom God barely seemed present, if at all.   Joseph gave credit to God for putting him in the right place to save his family, but God did not act overtly in that story.  In the Book of Esther,  Mordechai and Esther saved the Jews of Persia on their own.  Of course, that book doesn’t mention God even once. 

    One verse in the Torah reading for this week seems to make the point that we need to act with reverence and holiness before we will experience redemption and, ultimately, God’s presence.  I will be reading from the Torah the section that describes the pillar of cloud that would guide the Israelites by day and the pillar of fire that would lead them at night.  If the pillar moved, they would set out on their journey.  If not, they remained where they were.  

     What is important to note is the verse preceding that passage.  Moses was busy putting the finishing touches on the Tabernacle, the Israelite center for worship.  The end of Exodus Chapter 40, verse 33 declares, “When Moses completed the work,” and the next verse continues, “the cloud covered the Tent of Meeting.” 

    It appears to be a pretty simple equation:  no completed work, no divine cloud and fire. Had Moses not finished the tasks of creating a space to commune with God, God would not have come.

     These days, we don’t see God among us as a pillar of cloud or a pillar of fire.  When we pray, however, we speak about godliness, or “God goals,” in terms of reverence for all creation, love, and cooperation in building a society based upon justice.  We think of God when we recognize and enhance the holy moments of our lives, when we approach life with gratitude, and when we make peace inside and outside of ourselves.

When we practice these values of our heritage, they, in turn, offer us guidance for the future, serving a role similar to that of the pillar of cloud and fire for the Israelites. 

    This holy space at Temple Beth-El, in which we recite sacred words, can offer us direction if our hearts are open to that possibility. As we heard in the reading that began our service, “May this synagogue be, for all who enter, the doorway to a richer and more meaningful life.”  And, in the words of that prayer, may we help those who have “cares to unburden, thanks to express, hopes to nurture” not only among us here, in this place, but within the greater community and throughout the family of humanity.   That is how we can make God and godliness real in time, in space, in our experiences, and in our souls. 

Giving and Learning...MORE: Reflections on Songleader Boot Camp 2014 (for Temple Beth-El Las Cruces Newsletter for March 2014)

Give 110%!”  

 “Wait…can’t I only possibly give 100%?” 

  Producing/performing at a level higher than our “normal best” (if there is such a thing!) probably falls into that “extra 10%” zone of giving.   The Torah portion Vayakheil refers to a voluntary donation effort that, evidently, reached 110%.   In Exodus Chapter 36, the Israelites were completing their campaign of providing the raw materials for designated artisans to create the holy furnishings for the Tabernacle and  the sacral vestments for the priests.   At one point, the artisans who had been endowed with “skill, ability and knowledge” went to Moses to tell him, “The people are bringing more than is needed!”   Moses sent a message through the camp that the people should not “make further effort” towards the gifts for the sanctuary.   The passage concludes, “Their efforts had been enough for all the tasks to be done…AND MORE.” 

    One of the reasons I attend conventions, conferences and workshops is to be sure that I am doing all I can to develop “skill, ability and knowledge” that will enable me to serve my congregation and community in a way that will inspire and instill growth, confidence, fellowship and optimism. I believe that learning something new at each successive conference enables me to reach some semblance of “AND MORE” in what I hear from teachers and peers. Over my rabbinate, I have attended certain conferences more than 10 times.   However, the last time I was a “newbie” at a convention was in 1999.

Rick Recht leads our opening session!

   On February 16-18, that all changed.   This year, I attended Songleader Boot Camp in St. Louis, Missouri, led by Jewish singer/songwriter/performer Rick Recht (photo above), his wife Elisa Heiligman Recht, and a talented faculty.  This gathering of songleaders, songwriters, educators, rabbis, cantors and cantorial soloists is unique in its focus.   Rick’s approach highlights the components of leadership related to the tone we set with our voices, our bodies, and our development of relationships within our community.   We discussed how we can best prepare ourselves to lead a service, a song session or a class in the right frame of mind and with the tools that will engage congregants, campers or students.  Sessions specifically for clergy encouraged us to discuss how we can prepare ourselves to lead and how we can bring about change when necessary that enables our community members to express themselves as Jews in the 21^st Century.  

Rabbi Micah Greenstein and Rabbi Sharon Brous

    These three days were filled with a special spirit and energy, and an opportunity to hear presentations on making the values of Judaism come alive in our communities.  Rabbi Micah Greenstein (see photo) of Temple Israel in Memphis urged us to apply the two levels of the Golden Rule contained in Leviticus, “love your neighbor as yourself” and “love the stranger as yourself.” He said that we should extend our concern to all sectors of our local communities so that we can create effective and significant partnerships across religious, ethnic and cultural lines.   Rabbi Sharon Brous (see photo) of IKAR (meaning “what is central/essential”) in Los Angeles spoke about “the fire within,” where that “fire” motivates us to stretch beyond what we think are our own limitations, to move towards 110% in the goals for our communities, and to achieve the level of “AND MORE” that the Israelites attained in their giving for the creation of the sanctuary.  

Songleader Boot Camp 2014 (I am in first row standing, right of center)

  At our closing session, we were asked to share a word that summarized our experience at Songleader Boot Camp as we held onto a long strand of yarn that would form a web around our circle.  I was asked to be the first to share as I held one end of the yarn.  I said, instinctively, “growth,” before others offered responses including “inspiration,” “confidence,” “courage,” and “community.”  The yarn came all the way around, and I was holding both ends, which felt like a big responsibility, one that was overwhelming, in the “AND MORE” category.  I realized that what I was doing at that moment was a lot like what I have always done along with professional and lay leaders and with Temple members. We hold both ends of the yarn together to sustain and nurture the web of congregational and Jewish life.   

     Over these three days in St. Louis (see the group photo below), we learned more than once about being grateful for the opportunity to lead and to serve, and to approach such responsibility with confidence and humility.   After attending Songleader Boot Camp, I know that I will continue to strive to do just that….and more.

Second Chances...to know God and each other - D'var Torah - Parashat Ki Tisa - February 14, 2014

Who….or  what...is God?

  My father, who taught 7^th-10^th Grade Religious School classes for 15 years,  had what might be the best answer of all, “I just don’t try to define God.”   For him, God was definitely a presence, maybe even a feeling, because I didn’t attend services with my parents nearly every Friday night of my growing years for nothing.  We were committed and dedicated members of a worshipping community.  We enjoyed melodies with which we could sing along. We appreciated a meaningful D’var Torah, in whatever form it was presented.    We had a sense that our prayers could change us spiritually and challenge us to practice the positive values of Judaism.   God, defined or not, was definitely there.

     This past Tuesday night, I taught the session of Temple’s Judaism: Roots and Rituals class that focuses on Jewish philosophy and theology.  In 90 minutes, we reviewed 2500 years of Jewish thought.  We were guided by succinct descriptions of Jewish belief from George Robinson’s book ESSENTIAL JUDAISM , and FINDING GOD: SELECTED JEWISH RESPONSES by Rabbis Daniel Syme and Rifat Sonsino.    What struck me this past Tuesday night was the particular set of values reflected in the perspectives we discussed.  Here are the thoughts and ideas about God which emerged from our study:

·      God is present within all the interconnections in the Universe. 

·      All religions can lead a person to God and salvation.

·      Human relationships can reflect divine love. 

·      The most godly type of relationship is one where two people stand together in dialogue, characterized by mutuality, openness, directness and human sympathy. 

·      We best reflect what God asks of us when we transcend our petty, egocentric interests and respond to creation and to our fellow human beings with love and devotion. 

·      The key to ethics is “seeing the face of the Other” –meaning anyone we encounter – and acting towards him or her out of goodness because we recognize that there is common ground between us. 

·      We are partners with God in bringing goodness into the world.

·      God is “our sense of self and our innermost essence” which we can discover in God’s creation.  

·      God is the totality of all those forces, powers and processes which help us become the best that we are capable of becoming.  

     What do all of these beliefs about God have in common?   Nothing tangible and nothing material, for sure!    Every one of them is about what we know and what we feel but what we can’t touch.  On a day like today when so many people focus on love – yes, even in Israel – it is appropriate to talk about feeling, mutuality, goodness, empathy, and trust.

     When did Moses truly get to know more about God’s essence?   It was only after the episode of the Golden Calf.   It took the backsliding of the people into the need for a visible symbol of the divine to reveal to Moses what was special about God.

    Moses pleaded to God on behalf of the people to give them another chance.  Yes, they had made an idol, yes, the tables of God’s 10 utterances were broken, but there could be healing between God, Moses and the Israelites.  It was that renewal of their commitment and relationship that brought them closer than ever before.  God said to Moses: “I will make all My goodness pass before you, and I will proclaim before you the name Adonai/Eternal, and the grace that I grant and the compassion that I show.  But you cannot see my face.”   God then told Moses that he could only see the “back of God,” which some interpret as the “after-effects” of God’s presence.  And while passing by Moses, who was standing in the cleft of a rock, God declared the divine attributes that are stated in the portion I will read from Exodus Chapter 34.  Those traits included kindness, compassion, faithfulness and forgiveness.   The judgment noted in verse 7 – “yet I will not remit all punishment” would occur only if the people lost their focus on the value of intangible aspects of life and if they succumbed to the “golden calves” of power, excessive wealth, the need to control others, and the absence of equal respect and consideration towards every human being, created in the divine image. 

    Second chances can lead us to realize that we need to acknowledge that what we can’t see is more important than what is visible to our eyes.  Last Sunday morning, our youngest Religious School students were sitting on the bimah for their music session, in which we were talking about the Shema.   Before we sang the Shema, I had them recite it, first with their eyes closed, then with their eyes open.   I asked them whether it is easier to feel that everything is connected – that God is One and that we are One – when their eyes are open or closed. They said it is when their eyes are closed that they have a greater sense of the unity that binds all of creation together.  

     Living in this world does require us to keep our eyes and ears open, especially to note whether people are acting with generosity or selfishness, love or hatred, compassion or cold-heartedness.   That is why Judaism demands that when we see injustice in the world, we must give voice to the teachings about God that have guided our heritage throughout the ages.  It is we who are God’s eyes, ears, hands and heart to be sure that people approach one another with kindness, consideration, grace and goodness.  People in need, those whose rights are denied, those who need hope restored, need us to bring God’s compassion to their lives. So may we do!