Sometimes we forget - Remembering a heritage of Justice - D'var Torah for Shoftim - August 29, 2014 (introduction to a reading on justice)

Sometimes we forget.

Sometimes we are so overwhelmed by the messages we hear around us that we forget.

We forget who we are.

We forget from where we came.

Sometimes we forget what we are supposed to remember: "Do not oppress the stranger, for you know the feelings of the stranger, having yourselves been strangers in the land of Egypt."

Sometimes we forget that we come from a tradition of a people that created a society that sees the divine image in everyone.

And when those people forgot, sometimes we forget that there were prophets who would call the people back, in the name of God, to their ethical roots: to act justice, equality and fairness.

Sometimes we forget that caring for people in need and creating a safety net for all were part of a biblical and prophetic vision of justice rather than the province of a particular ideological or political group.

Sometimes we forget that the prophets and rabbis knew that people who deserved justice and did not receive it might attempt to take what they thought was due them, which was why they called for acting with justice in the first place.

Sometimes we forget that justice - TZEDEK - through TZ'DAKAH - righteous giving - is an obligation, not a suggestion.

And so, let us remember what we sometimes forget and act in a way that reflects the justice taught by our heritage.

Remarks at Dedication of Sephardic/Anousim (those forced to convert from Judaism) Center in El Paso, Texas - August 10, 2014

It is an honor to bring greetings at the dedication of this center from Temple Beth-El in Las Cruces.

 One of the main symbols in our sanctuary, the Neir tamid, the Eternal Light, is stylized to include the ladder in Jacob’s dream.  After he woke up from his vision of a ladder reaching to the sky and of a conversation with God that gave him reassurance for the future, Jacob named the place, Beit-El, the House of God.   It was in retrospect that he realized God had been with him all along.

This center is like Jacob’s vision.   When any of us explore our roots, we often uncover some aspect of our background that is, even in a small way, essential to who we are.   Jacob finally recognized a divine presence at his side.  Learning about our ancestors and what they practiced and believed can unlock a part of our identity that we always knew was there but for which we had no explanation.  This center will help people find that key to self-knowledge.  

   The rabbis imagined that the ladder in Jacob’s dream represented future history, and that the angels going up and down on it were the great powers of the world that would rise and eventually fall.  In that midrash, God asked Jacob if he wanted to take his turn ascending. He was afraid and no answer is given as to his choice.  I believe Jacob did ascend because, well, here we are.   For this center, the ladder is directed not only to the future but also to the past, to reveal the nature of those angels from the generations that came before us that now want us to ascend by digging deep into our identity and our history on an ongoing path of discovery.  

 May this Anousim Center provide countless opportunities for people to find their forebears and, thereby, to find themselves, with the presence of God guiding every step of that journey.  May the Eternal One bless you with knowledge, hope, inner peace, and a sense of oneness that will unite past, present and future. 

(Note - the photographer took a photo of a scene in Santa Fe for the poster for the center - the ladder coming up from one of the building which is in the photo reminded him, he said, of Jacob's ladder).  

Great shall be the peace of your children - Temple Beth-El Adelante Newsletter Article for August 2014

   “All your children shall be taught of the Eternal One, and great shall be the peace of your children.” This passage from Isaiah, Chapter 54, has been on my mind during recent weeks. A ceasefire was just announced (it’s Thursday, July 31, 2014) that both Israel and Hamas accepted. Hopefully, a longer ceasefire will ensue that will bring quiet and perhaps, in the long term, security (Rabbi’s note—sadly, it didn’t last long).

   A few nights ago, I set that Isaiah passage to music (see video below) and created this English lyric to capture the prophet’s declaration: “Can you hear the sound, the sound of justice driving out the hatred, calling off the warning? (There’s) no need to fear the peace that will surround you.” Forging agreements that will lead to eventual cooperation and peace may seem difficult when set alongside the perpetuation of a less-than-perfect status quo. We human beings are, at least sometimes, afraid of change, even though we know that it is a constant in our lives.

     I had the privilege of helping out with Las Cruces’ Peace Camp on July 21-25. On two days, I took part in discussions on social justice. I led the song session that concluded the pro-gram as well (see photo). Peace Camp was like a respite from the current turmoil of the world, where the children, along with their counselors and teachers, could practice techniques and strategies for resolving conflict that would bring people together rather than keeping them at odds with one another. So much of the work of making peace is about acknowledging one another’s stories, but focusing more on the future and the benefits that productive agreements could bring. Evidently, there were talks going on between Israel and Gaza business leaders over the last few months that might have led to an increasingly open border and commerce that would have benefited everyone concerned. Hamas did not approve of those efforts, but those seeds of partnership may actually be allowed to blossom one day.

    On July 30, 15 congregants came together to join me (see photo in the next column) in discussing a well-known pas-sage from the biblical book of Micah: “It has been told you, O mortal, what is good and what the Eternal One re-quires of you: only to do justly, love kindness, and walk humbly with God.” Participants first had the opportunity to comment on each of the three parts of Micah’s statement. “Do justly” was seen as expressing the societal principle of equality of opportunity along with the elimination of false obstacles to equality. There was an acknowledgment that not everyone sees justice with the same perspective, but it is through justice (legal, personal, cultural and social) and fairness that we survive as a community. “Love kindness/mercy” implies the value of G’MILUT CHASADIM, showing or acting with kindness, and doing so with a whole heart and a generous spirit. This can refer to tzedakah, righteous giving, and it can refer to helping people in all sorts of ways. This is definitely kindness in action. Participants noted that we “walk humbly/modestly with God” when we listen to other people and see the divine spark in everyone. One person commented, “Practicing justice, love, kindness and mercy ensures that you will walk humbly, modestly and wisely.”

We discussed how to apply this passage from Micah to our dealings in our congregation and in the greater community. Intra-congregational dialogue should be based upon mutual respect for each other’s opinions. There was a feeling that we can, through such conversations, develop a common understanding of social justice (to “do justly”) that will serve as a basis for our work as a congregation in the community. We noted that some local coalitions (I am part of one that includes a wide range of faith groups that met recently at Sonoma Springs Church next door) are working on stocking food pantries, serving at El Caldito soup kitchen, providing beds for families in need, and helping with transportation for children going to school and for adults who require assistance. Some faith communities join together in many American cities to deal with immigration reform, prison reform, civil rights, working for changes that can enable people to move out of poverty, and dealing with domestic violence and child abuse and neglect. These issues are linked to many faith traditions, including Judaism, and can be an expression of religious values in action.

This conversation was one of many that I hope will en-sue in the coming months. More and more members can be part of this dialogue to enable us to find out who we are as a congregation and what we would like to do for each other and for our neighbors in Las Cruces. May we work together among ourselves and with partners in our city to ensure the peace and well-being of our children and their children as well.

Rav Shalom - new song by Larry Karol

Shelter - and one day, Peace as well - D'var Torah - Parashat (Portion) Mas'ei - July 25, 2014

Throughout this week, I have participated in the Las Cruces Peace Camp program.

Yesterday, as I left for another meeting in the early afternoon, after being at camp since the morning,  I told one of the staff - "thank you, I am going back to my civilian rabbi life."

  Of course, what I was doing there was as rabbinic as any other educational work that I do at Temple or in other community organizations.

But something felt different about this week.

As I read my fill this morning of articles about the war in Gaza, I realized that Peace Camp felt to me like a safe bubble or haven where I could gain a respite from the turmoil in the world and talk about peace and building a better world with a feeling of hope.

I was grateful for my daily flight into idealism, which included discussions about constructive conflict resolution and gaining a sense for how to understand how people live in various parts of the world.

It wasn't all idealism, though - anytime that we create community among a group of people, we form a microcosm of real life in which we have to get along.  

   As we know, Israel is one country with an increasingly diverse community politically and culturally that still finds common ground rather easily. 

   I was fascinated by the report of a July 12 demonstration against the war in Gaza by Israelis on the left at Habima Square in Tel Aviv.    Right wing counter demonstrators were right there with them, shouting at them whatever slogans they could muster. 

Then the sirens sounded.

Then they all went to a MIKLAT - a shelter - together. 

Yes, right-wing and left wing Israelis - in a shelter – together, suspended their conflict for a moment as they sought refuge from the common existential threat from Hamas.

    Once the all clear was sounded, they went back up to the square and resumed their positions, shouting at each other in disagreement once again.

For a moment, the shelter - the MIKLAT - was not only a haven and refuge from rockets.  It was also a place where these Israelis automatically, almost unconsciously, set aside their differences.  

   In the Torah reading for this week in Numbers Chapter 35, we read about six ancient cities, each 

called an IR MIKLAT, a city of refuge, in which a priest would reside in order to provide sanctuary for a person who unintentionally killed another.  His - or her - life would automatically be sought after by the victim’s relative, known as the GOEL HADAM - the blood avenger.  In the ancient world, the goal was to keep a balance between the families, and justice could only be set right when someone died on each side - except in this case where there was no hatred and no intention to take a life. The person who had accidentally committed the killing had to stay in that city.  That town was a place of safety, a MIKLAT, a shelter, keeping the hatred of the victim's relative from touching him or her.   The death of the High Priest of the city would provide the restoration of the balance, perhaps because of the communal respect for the priest himself that would supersede any other considerations in the community.   Blood vengeance would fall by the wayside at such a time of city-wide mourning.

    In recent weeks, conflicts in the world have affected not only citizens of countries but also, tragically, people flying above them.   Some cities in Europe that we would think are safe for Jews are havens no more, as demonstrations against Israel's actions target Jews and their synagogues.  A store owner in Belgium put up a sign that said dogs were allowed but not "Zionists."  Due to the actions of ISIS, Christians in Mosul, Iraq are threatened if they don’t convert to Islam.  People have become hostages to their own community members or victims of violence of their fellow citizens who hold extreme ideologies and seek to grab power through punishing innocent bystanders.  

     I suppose that is why I was glad that Peace Camp happened this week. I went back for the closing session this afternoon, singing several songs about peace. For us, in our sanctuary, right here, may we think about all that we have prayed about peace during this Shabbat Service, and may the hope we recite each week come to fruition:  May the one who makes peace in the highest heavens make peace for us, for all Israel, and for all the world, and let us say Amen. 

Reaching for a Covenant of Peace - Parashat Pinchas - July 11, 2014

Us.

Them.

A part of the human brain was hard-wired long ago

to be prepared for an immediate threat to our existence or for impending danger.

Another part of our brain has the ability to take our thinking to a higher level, far above the fear that could cause us to expect doom at every turn,

to compete with others in most situations, or to see life in terms of conquests and defeats rather than as a series of opportunities for thoughtful cooperation, productive partnership and constructive compromise. 

The Torah portion for this week, Pinchas, begins with God offering a covenant of peace and friendship to Aaron’s grandson, Pinchas the priest.

    At the end of the previous Torah reading, Pinchas’ spear had pierced through an Israelite man and a Midianite woman (by his own hand) as they worshiped a foreign god that was not responsible for their liberation from Egypt.

    Some say the covenant was a reward to Pinchas for his act that stilled God’s anger at the people’s backsliding into idolatry.

   Perhaps the covenant was really God’s way of telling him that he could express his zealotry for his faith and his people through a violent act only once.

    It may appear that it wasn’t until the time of the prophets that the Israelites were able to look at a situation with a fresh approach, what we would call “outside the box,” moving beyond narrow ways of thinking about situations and about people.

Enter the daughters of Zelophechad – Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah and Tirzah – who came forward in this Torah reading with a radical idea.  

Their father had no sons, and they believed that they deserved to have their father’s inheritance transferred to them.  

Moses took the case to God, who declared that “the plea of the daughters is just.”  

For the Israelites, this decision transcended, if only for a moment, the “us/them” of rights based on gender.  There was only one community, which included both men and woman, who could be seen as equal.  

   That decision reflected creativity and openness.

  It set the stage for Moses’s request that God appoint his successor, a leader over the community who would “go out before them and come in before them, who shall take them out and bring them in, so that the community of the Eternal will not be like a sheep that have no shepherd.”

It was the leader’s task to direct the people, to assure that they had food and drink, to guide them in battle, and to continue to teach them about the meaning of freedom.  

    It was Joshua who was chosen to succeed Moses, the man with the name meaning “salvation.” 

    Salvation had a unique significance for the Israelites, and, later, for the Jewish people, as they faced challenges from without and within.

   The notion of “us/them” persisted over the centuries as a world was unable to understand a people that was few in number but mighty in spirit and study, a people that believed that salvation ultimately applied to all humanity.

    And so we come to today – now – this week.

   As rockets fired to perpetuate the “us/them” approach targeted Israeli cities, necessitating a response in self-defense, families mourning their murdered children on both sides extended hearts towards one another.

Even a particularistic sense of peoplehood does not preclude holding onto faith in God as Creator of all humanity, a belief that has led some, in their sadness, to rise above a perspective of “us/them” to see themselves as part of yet another specific community, defined as “we human beings who desire to live in peace so that no one else will need to experience the pain of grieving for a murdered child.”  

    Such a community needs a shepherd – a leader. Psalm 23, which a number of us studied at Temple this week, speaks of a Shepherd, with a capital “S,” who would provide for the people, lead them through green pastures and by still waters, revive their very lives amid their despair, direct them along pathways of justice, and remind them that goodness and kindness are always running after them, pursuing them, as if those two calming qualities of character were calling out to us, “Slow down so that we can catch up with you and be an integral part of your lives.” 

     May that Shepherd in whose house we yearn to dwell forever lift our vision to the heights, so that communities and their leaders can see that the peace that is created in the highest heavens has the potential to bring benefit and serenity to the world below.   May the violence of some give way to the wisdom of others that will make peace a reality that will bring light and hope to the dark corners of the world.  So may it be –and let us say amen. 

Speaking for God among us – Parashat Chukat – D’var Torah – June 27, 2014

         The Torah reading for this Shabbat includes a section that is pivotal for the story of the Israelites in the wilderness.  It gives us yet another reason why Moses and Aaron would not lead the Israelites into the land of Canaan.

    Most people would look at this passage and think that the result was not fair.    Earlier, in the book of Exodus, God asked Moses to strike a rock so that water would flow out of it and quench the thirst of the Israelites. 

Perhaps Moses thought that was the usual “instant spring of water” procedure – hit a divinely designated rock!

    In this case, in the Book of Numbers, Chapter 20, the people were once again complaining about their thirst, their weariness and their freedom.  And this was not the generation of those who left Egypt.  It was their children – they learned well from their parents how to be expert complainers. 

    So, in the fortieth year of their wanderings, we can imagine Moses and Aaron being weary themselves – and angry.   Yes, they still had to behave like leaders.  But they had likely reached their wit’s end.

   God told them to bring the community together and to take Aaron’s rod that had recently sprouted almond blossoms after the Korach rebellion, giving it very special quality.

    Then Moses heard God give this command: “Order the rock to yield its water.”   One may wonder why they had to bring the rod if the spoken word would be the agent to bring forth a spring.   Perhaps it was a test.

    Moses said to the people as he stood by Aaron: “Listen, you rebels, shall we get water for you out of this rock?”  Moses, known for his humility more than his patience, was not showing much patience at this particular moment.  At that instant, Moses, in his momentary zeal, raised his hand and struck the rock twice.  Water came out even though he didn’t offer the required verbal command.

    The next verse communicated a harsh sentence from God: “Because you did not trust Me enough to affirm my sanctity before the Israelites, you shall not lead this congregation into the land.”  As in Exodus 17, this site was called Meribah, meaning “a place of contention.” 

    So what did Moses and Aaron do wrong?  One possibility is that there is something not mentioned here that was a very grave sin.   Some scholars have suggested that, but that would leave us with nothing to talk about. 

    Some say that it was because Moses struck the rock and didn’t order it with words to create a spring of water.  However, the water still came out, so that may not be the reason.

   Some say that it was because Moses was angry.  The rabbis said in the Talmud, “When a prophet gets angry, he or she loses the gift of prophecy.”  Other commentators were so exasperated themselves with the Israelites complaining that they forgave Moses’  frustration in this case.   So that may not be the reason.

    Many suggest that they key to the answer is in one word:  “we.”   “Shall WE get water for you out of this rock?”  was what Moses said.   Moses and Aaron, in their frustration, could be seen as inadvertently claiming that it was their human power that was providing the water, not God’s.   

    The Exodus was about having faith and trust in each other and in God.   If God created the world, God was the source of any water that might be available.   The Oxford Jewish Study Bible quotes a 14^th Century BCE Egyptian inscription in a small temple in the Sinai by the side of a road, dedicated to the Pharaoh Seti: “God has made water come forth for me from the mountain.”  Giving God credit for even one small part of creation goes back a long, long way.   

   There is a lesson here for us today about the higher purposes of our lives.   The rabbis used to say, when it came to a variety of opinions coexisting, “EILU V’EILU DIVREI ELOHIM CHAYIM” – This view and that view are the words of the living God.   In other words, God encompasses all ideologies and all reality. 

   That statement suggests that all of us possess a part of the truth, but that we can only get the whole picture when we listen to each other, when we work together, when we bring our views into focus for each other and understand that there is something that is “right” about many perspectives.  

    That is one of the aspects of the Presbyterian Church USA vote last week that may have been missing for some of the commissioners in attendance.  There has been a wide variety of reactions to the vote to divest from three companies that have manufactured equipment that the Presbyterians allege is being used by Israel for security purposes in Judea and Samaria. 

It is important to consider what the real issues might be.       

      There was one of association, because the Presbyterian choice of Jewish Voice for Peace as a sole Jewish partner did not represent the greater scope of views in the Jewish community.  The Boycott, Divest, Sanctions movement saw the 310-303 vote in favor of divestment as a win, even though other elements in the resolution spoke positively about Israel’s right to exist and about working with various partners for peace.  That association with BDS was a problem for many.  

     The ZIONISM UNSETTLED study guide that was developed by the Presbyterian Israel Palestine Mission Network and released a few months ago may soon be coming off the PC USA website as a document available for sale.  Some supporters of the vote last week were guided by this text.  Katherine Henderson, President of the Auburn Theological Seminary, stated with great concern that this publication is “a polemic that reduces the complex and multiple narratives of Israelis and Palestinians through a single lens: the problem of Zionism. The premise of the document appears to be that Zionism is the cause of the entire conflict in the Middle East and the root of all its problems. For its authors, Zionism functions as the original sin, from which flows all the suffering of the Palestinian people.”    That is not exactly what the rabbis had in mind about different opinions.

     In the last 50 years, many Christian denominations have followed the lead of the Catholic Church and declared that Judaism is an equal religious partner in bringing goodness and justice into the world.  Christianity has not replaced Judaism, according to these proclamations welcomed by the Jewish community.   The Presbyterian Church USA never did reach a point of affirming a similar declaration after creating a study document on the issue 30 years ago.   Now would be a good time for Presbyterians to join other Christian groups in establishing  a true partnership with Jews worldwide.

     From the experience of watching the proceedings last week, and working with and knowing members of the Presbyterian Church, what is most important is remembering that there is a higher dimension to our relationships.  There are higher truths.  There is One Creator of whom each of us is a reflection. When we deny that common link that brings us together, we tend build barriers rather than bridges.

    So in our dealings with each other, may we find ways of speaking without frustration and anger, ready to at least try to stand at the center to hear the voices expressing different words and perspectives.   May we give thanks to God who has given us great powers to gain understanding, to think deeply, to step into someone else’s shoes and views, and to remember that the spark of God in all of us can bring us together.   

Keep our views...holy and high - Thoughts and a prayer on Parashat (Portion) Korach - June 20, 2014

This week’s Torah portion of Korach begins with selfishness

And ends with selflessness.

It starts with community members who sought for themselves what they thought was the ultimate power over their people without mentioning the responsibilities that come with a position of leadership.

The parashah ends with the command to the Levites to tithe, to give a tenth of all they had received from the people, back to God.   Those serving the people were reminded that they were ultimately like everyone else, even while performing special duties of worship and leadership.

That lesson was one of humility, but it was also intended to elevate their souls in order to gain a divine perspective of respect and care for all of the people.

In light of this message, I offer this prayer: 

Eternal God,

Keep our views, our perspectives, and

our intentions, holy and high.  Raise us up above pettiness and human conflict so that your teachings will serve as a beacon for us, to guide us in how we can best serve our community.

Enable us to help and to hear those in need, so that they will be able to live with hope and security.

 Direct us to help and hear one another, so that we will achieve an understanding that will result in our willing and natural cooperation. 

Give us confidence to overcome our fears when the prospect of change or the threat of discrimination or prejudice prevent us from taking bold steps forward that could enrich our knowledge, our relationships and our lives.

Bless us with Your nearness, Your mercy and Your love.

And let us say Amen.