Dreaming again... and making dreams real - D'var Torah - Parashat Vayeishev (Genesis 37) - December 12, 2014

 Arriving somewhere late

Missing a sock or a shoe – or both – when I really need them

Being unable to get out of a building

Jamming with Paul McCartney

Getting along with people I don’t usually get along with

These are some of the impressions that I carry around

From my dreams

Some of us remember dreams frequently and vividly

Some can recall dreams just every so often

And maybe there are those of us

who never can describe a dream in any sort of detail.

We often hear that dreams speak to us

About who we are

About the order or chaos in our lives

Even though the dreams seem to portray

Events in a state of disarray.

While we sleep, dreams likely help us

shape the seemingly random aspects of the world

Into categories that will make better sense to us

While we are awake.

Of course, we also use the word “dream” to refer

To aspirations, hopes, and visions of improving our society

Or of creating something new. 

One of the greatest speeches of the 20^th Century

bore the refrain “I Have a Dream.”

The common translation of Theodor Herzl’s fundamental

Declaration, IM TIRTZU, EIN ZO AGADAH, is not

“If you want it, it is no legend,”

but, “If you will it, it is no dream.” 

Perhaps the dreams that come to us while we sleep

Enable us to further develop our plans and thoughts

For the future so that they will come to fruition. 

The ladder at Beth-El came to Jacob in a dream

After he had fled his home due to the fear

That his brother might take revenge on him immediately

For replacing him as the blessed first-born son.  

The dream of God and a ladder to heaven

elevated a supplanter and deceiver

To a higher level of understanding about his life.  

Jacob finally realized that God was with him,

and that God’s presence mattered

giving him, perhaps, at least a small dose of humility.

And then there was his son Joseph.  Jacob’s favorite.

The one to whom he gave an ornamented tunic,

a KTONET PASIM, which was worn by special young women,

and, perhaps, special young men of his time.  

But there was more to Joseph that no one recognized as unique.

Dreams.  

Joseph was truly Jacob’s son, a dreamer,

but Jacob couldn’t even see it as he tried to keep peace in his family.  

Jacob saw only his immediate problem:

he didn’t need this precocious,

narcissistic young man bringing “evil reports,”

gossip, about his brothers,

creating yet another generation of pointed sibling rivalry.

But the dreams – no one, not even Joseph could see

that they were pointing to crucial future events

Which would lead to their survival.  

What caused Joseph to tell his brothers these dreams

that had such potential to inflame their jealousy?

Jewish commentators noted that Joseph was

Too young and naïve to realize the consequences

Of his dream-sharing. 

Perhaps he thought they would respect him more

If he revealed that he was the one to whom others would bow.

Or, was it that he realized that he had been given a message from God

that he had to share? 

Or, in Aviva Gottleib Zornberg’s words, was this just

Joseph the teenager behaving with

“a dangerous unawareness of the feelings of others”? 

In the stories of Joseph, one dream points to a possibility,

and two dreams predict that something will truly come to pass. 

Joseph was right, but he didn’t know

how he was right. 

So he may have shared his dreams

Asking for an answer.  

He received an answer in the form of an envy so deeply held

that his brothers sold him to go to Egypt

And told their father that Joseph was dead

So they would be rid of their annoying, self-centered, bothersome brother. 

What the brothers didn’t realize

is that they were doing exactly

what needed to be done,

which Joseph only would comprehend

once he became the overseer

managing the famine in Egypt

who would witness his brothers bow down before him

just like in the dreams of his youth.

Had the brothers not acted out of their anger and hurt,

Joseph wouldn’t have ended up where he needed to be

to save the life of his entire family. 

How ironic it was that Joseph’s apparent dreams of grandeur

pointed not so much to him having

a position of power

but one of responsibility.  

He eventually understood

exactly why he was where he was by the end.

It is the same with us.

 Our actual paths in life

sometimes look more like disorderly dreams,

even when our aspirations for something great

are based in real talents that we have demonstrated

over and over again. 

Every act and every decision has a consequence,

and the results that we see at first

may not appear to lead  to where we hope to go.  

It may be only when we near our final destination

that the meaning of dreams, visions, and aspirations

that first occurred to us will come clear.  

It is important to express those hopes

at the beginning  with humility, for sure,

but it is even more important to understand

the higher purpose they may represent.  

So may we keep our eyes, ears, minds and hearts

open to those dreams that can drive us to greatness

and fill our lives with meaning.  

Kindling the ongoing lights of faith - article for the Temple Beth-El Las Cruces Adelante Newsletter for December 2014

     At this writing, I am about to lead the Shabbat service that features the Torah reading VAYEITZEI, which opens with the patriarch Jacob’s dream at Beth-El. This passage is often on our minds and right before our eyes when we attend services. The Neir Tamid in our Sanctuary places the ladder/stairway in front of us every week, uniting the symbolism of light with a connection between heaven and earth.

     The rabbis imagined Jacob to be somewhat hesitant to step onto the ladder because of the risk of failing to rise to the top. In one midrash, God showed Jacob how the great powers of the world (represented by the angels going up and down the ladder) would rise and fall, while the children of Jacob would not suffer the same fate. In those rabbinic interpretations, we never see Jacob taking the step onto the ladder, at least not at that point. In Genesis Chapter 28, Jacob essentially declared that if God took care of all of his needs and saw him through his coming challenges and ad

ventures, then Jacob would fully believe in God. Such a conditional approach has bothered some commentators, but it demonstrates Jacob’s humanity. Even making such a pledge was still a commitment to a future relationship, which only would be fulfilled if Jacob continued on his journey to find a wife and to create and raise a family. We know, from the end of the story, that Jacob did act out of his own initiative without waiting for God to do everything for him.

     Worship in most any context is a lot like Jacob’s relationship with God. The words, the melodies, and the possibility of community are always there, waiting for us to take an active participatory step to make prayers and expressions of belief, commitment, joy, and hope come alive. The generations before us provided us rituals, symbols and an order of a service that reminds us of the wonder of creation, the gift of wisdom, and the trust that can lead us to a sense of security and optimism as members of the Jewish community and of the family of humanity. The Siddur/prayerbook expresses gratitude to our ancestors for establishing a foundation for our community and to God for sharing with us the strength to reach out to others to provide them with freedom, care and support. We focus on aspects of life that are holy and unique that we might consider to be miracles even when we have created them with our own knowledge and insight. We say “thank you” for everything we have and we pray that peace will finally come to our world and encompass all of humanity and all of creation.

     The ways in which we express ourselves vary from week to week on Friday night and Saturday morning. On the first Friday of the month, our 6:00 pm Family Service features the central prayers of our liturgy in a relaxed family setting that is open to members of all ages. A potluck Shabbat dinner follows that brings the generations together in Shabbat joy. The second service on the first Friday is an equally relaxed service that gives congregants a chance to take part in a discussion on an aspect of the weekly Torah portion with the goal of finding lessons for modern life. The “middle Fridays” of the month usually feature a Torah reading with a brief D’var Torah that expresses my current thoughts on the meaning we can derive from the ancient text. On the last Shabbat of the month, the “Shabbat Service for Renewal of Spirit” brings readings and music together to create a context that gives us a sense of peace and healing that can continue to guide us in the coming days. This service will again be preceded by a time for meditation each month.

Shabbat morning services are our most informal, with an opportunity for those present to share “miracles” in our lives, to engage in an in-depth discussion of the Torah portion for the week, and to sing and read prayers that we might not hear on Friday evening. When we reach our minyan of 10, we read Torah and still engage in a lively conversation about the text that has been handed down to us over the centuries.

     We are now looking forward to our celebration of Chanukah, which begins on Tuesday, December 16. We know well that the Chanukiah/Menorah does not light itself. It needs us to put in the candles and kindle each light so that the glow will inspire us to new acts of preserving freedom and justice for all people. Think of our Shabbat worship like a Chanukiah. When we are here, together, the light from our souls will shine brightly and there will be a special spirit emanating from our Sanctuary, creating a stair-way/ladder to lofty places. Each of us can be like Jacob, making it possible to see that “God was in this place, and I, I did not know it.”

    Best wishes for a happy Chanukah, with a hope that we will all find the light that is at the core of our lives and our souls.

Family Legacies (Looking at - not past - each other) -D'var Torah for Toldot - November 21, 2014

“Two peoples are in your belly, 

two nations shall branch off from each other

[as they emerge] from your womb. 

One people shall prevail over the other; 

the elder shall serve the younger.”

Such was the message Rebekah received directly from God 

as she asked why these twins-to-be

were struggling inside of her with such intensity. 

The message was clear to her: 

The elder, Esau, would serve the younger, Jacob.

Her interpretation set in motion 

all that would transpire afterwards 

as she paved the way for the younger child

to receive the older child's blessing

as Isaac's primary heir. 

So would follow the accusations of deceit

down through the ages of biblical commentary

Or, a strong defense of Rebekah's actions

because of her special insight

into the need for Jacob to be the fulcrum

of the future for the children of Abraham and Isaac. 

Some say that Rebekah did understand correctly

one part of the message,

while failing to grasp the other possible meaning.  

As with ancient oracular proclamations 

that could be taken in more ways than one,

Rebekah may have missed this possible understanding:

RAV YAAVOD TZAIR

The older one the younger one will serve.

So did Rebekah do wrong in setting up Jacob 

as the primary son 

who would succeed Isaac in most every way? 

Perhaps not. 

Perhaps the statement with a dual meaning

Was intended to foretell what would actually happen.

In some ways, 

the younger son would serve the older

in having to leave his home because of his brother's anger, 

in a moment of trepidation before meeting up with him again,

years later

and in two peoples, Israel and Edom,

living in close proximity to each other

whether in calm or in conflict. 

There is here a family legacy

One not of competition 

but of the necessity of mutual recognition.  

In the end, the sons of Isaac and Rebekah had to learn

that even though they might not end up living together,

they couldn't look past each other

pretending that the other did not exist.  

They had to meet each other, eventually, 

at heart of their humanity

in a place where a divine perspective would bring them together

looking into one another's eyes

as if each was seeing the face of God  in the other.

Their legacy bears lessons for the human family throughout the ages.  

Too many times,

In too many places

People look past one another

Seeing those who are different 

those whose background they do not share

as strangers

as the enemy

as objects of scorn

disdain

prejudice

and hatred.

Two men attack people praying in a house of worship.

Young women attack a cab driver with tear gas. 

In the name of security, law enforcement officers or soldiers

think the worst about the people demonstrating in front of them Protesters fail to see the human beings opposite them 

hoping to preserve calm.  

Motives of others are questioned based on rumor

Rather than being understood based on fact.  

Ultimately,  The struggle between these boys

Teaches us not to see others only as we see them

But to see and understand them  

As they see and understand themselves.  

When we reach that goal,

Perhaps our service to one another

Will be for good, for cooperation

And for peace.   

"A New Generation: Isaac remembers" - Parashat Chayei Sarah - November 14, 2014

I never thought I would see him again.

It had been such a long time since we were together.

And that last time was not easy.

He seemed to enjoy picking on me – is that what all older brothers do?  

He is my half-brother, but we were in the same household – all of us - Ishmael, his mother Hagar, my father Abraham’s female servant, my father Abraham

and my mother Sarah. 

I vaguely remember that one last time when he bothered me, even bullied me, and it was too much for my mother.  I didn’t really understand what he had done wrong, but my mother said, “Isaac, he was trying to say that he will always be more important than you.  I knew that he wouldn’t ever stop, especially after how his mother treated me after Ishmael was born and I had no child.” 

  I still didn’t understand – for all the complexities, we were still family.  

  But that day, my mother had had enough.  She told my father that Hagar and Ishmael had to go. 

   And that was just before my father and I had to go on our own journey, one that I would rather forget, but one that has left a lasting mark on me.

   It’s funny that my half-brother’s name is Yishma-eil – God will hear.  My name is YITZCHAK – he will laugh.   I heard all about how my mother laughed when she heard that, after years of not having a child, that I would be born.   She later said that I brought her laughter.  That is probably why she threw out Hagar and Ishmael – they only reminded her of how she was treated for not having had a child – that is, until I was born.  I can only imagine how their presence continued to cause her pain.   For me, my name means that I will laugh even when I might want to cry or feel despair.  It was the perfect reminder for me to keep a positive attitude.   And now that Rebekah is here as my wife,  she has brought warmth and laughter to our family once again. 

    Still, our family was split – until today.   My father Abraham died after a long, long, life.   Even with that difficult trip up the mountain so long ago, I owe him my life, and my wife, since it was he who sent his servant Eliezer to find her for me.  She is a lot like my mother, only different and special – and she has already been a perfect spouse.  

    Back to my father.  He had told me that he had one wish – that Ishmael and I reunite to bury him at the family plot in the Cave of the Machpelah.   

    My father had secretly told me a story about Ishmael.   He never did get to see him again.  But he did tell me that he had visited Ishmael’s tent and met his wife, who treated him with generous hospitality.

   So he said, “Isaac, when I die, leave the past behind.   Respect your brother, and bury me with respect as well.”

    My father would be proud – we had a good-enough reunion that I would never have expected as we laid Abraham to rest.   We didn’t talk a lot, but we did recognize how connected we are, and that we live, really, not too far away from each other.

     So Ishmael went back to his home when we were done.  And I returned to mine.

   And now I wonder – what will the future be like for our families?  For our children and their children?  What will they know of us and our stories?   Will having Abraham as a shared ancestor bring them together?  Or will the jealousy that once drove apart our mothers, Sarah and Hagar, persist from one generation to the next?

    Only time will tell.   It seems to me that, at any time, we have the possibility of taking a step back from conflict so we can change our attitudes towards each other – just like I did today. 

    I didn’t know what to expect – but it was good to see him again – Ishmael, the man that God will hear.  And I, the one who will laugh, will continue to muster a smile that, I can only, pray will reverberate throughout the generations and maybe, one day, bring peace between our descendants when they really need it.  

    So may it be. 

  

The Power of One...and Two...and Three - Article for Temple Beth-El Las Cruces NM November 2014 Newsletter

   As I was leading a recent Temple program, I was looking around at those who were there, and thinking about the significance and contributions of each person who attended. On Friday, October 17, we engaged in a discussion about creation and creativity as our communal D’var Torah. The conversation was shaped by each individual comment from the congregants who were present that night, as well as my brother, Rabbi Stephen Karol, who was visiting us for several days. Had even one person who spoke not attended, the course of our comments would not have been the same. 

    In a large congregation, 1-3 people may not make so much of a difference in total attendance. At Temple Beth-El of Las Cruces,   1-3 people can have a great impact on a gathering. We all bring our experiences, our knowledge, and our love of Judaism and the Jewish people with us when we attend a congregational event. That is why YOUR presence enhances most any program or event. 

Judaism teaches us about the importance of one, two and even three people to a community. 

ONE: “For this reason was a single human being created in the beginning: to teach you that whosoever destroys a single soul, Scripture imputes guilt to him/her as though he/she had destroyed an entire world; and whosoever pre-serves a single soul, Scripture ascribes merit to him/her as though he/she had preserved an entire world” (Talmud Sanhedrin 37a). 

“Despise no one, and call nothing useless, for there is no one whose hour does not come, and nothing that does not have its place” (Shimon ben Azzai, in Pirke Avot 4.3) 

TWO: “Two are better than one...If either of them falls , one can lift up the other” (Ecclesiastes 4:9-10). 

“When two sit together and words of Torah/learning pass between them, the Divine Presence rests with them: (Pirkei Avot 3:2). 

THREE: “If three have eaten together and spoken words of Torah/learning, it is as though they had eaten at God’s table.” (Pirkei Avot 3:3). 

“A triple cord will not be quickly snapped!”(Ecclesiastes 4:12). 

We often forget about the significance of one: one person’s leadership or idea, one vote in an election, one positive comment that can offer support or encouragement, or one gift. One of my favorite coffee mugs bears this statement: “To the world, you may be one person, but to one person, you may be the world.” 

The book of Ecclesiastes speaks of two from a pragmatic perspective, rather than considering the emotional benefits of friendship. A partnership of any type begins with two, and such a cooperative arrangement works best when it is characterized by mutual support and the encouragement of sharing wisdom and growing in knowledge. That is why the statement of the rabbis focuses on what one person can teach another. That is what we can do for one another as well. 

     Three represents completeness in Judaism (we have three patriarchs and three major festivals), but it is also the minimum for creating a bond that is even stronger than two. The comment from Ecclesiastes notes that three people together can defend themselves better than two people can hold fast. That strength can also be brought to the sharing of ideas and to the building of community. 

We know that ten people makes a minyan in Jewish wor-ship, and sometimes congregations like ours may be only one, two or three people away from reaching that numerical threshold. Ten is said to represent absolute completeness. Never underestimate the blessing and gift that your presence can bring to a gathering at Temple or anywhere else in the community, because it might be you who adds something to make a program or event even more worthwhile and valuable than it otherwise might have been. 

     I look forward to seeing you soon! 

Song and Creation - Reflections on Shabbat Shira at OSRUI on October 23-26, 2014

       I am sure that if you had asked me about what I would be doing after turning 60, I wouldn't have imagined that I would I be participating in new conferences and ventures.   Just a week after recording my vocal and guitar tracks for my forthcoming album, it was time to join my songleading community at the fall conference "Shabbat Shira" (Sabbath of Song, literally).   This was my 15th time attending a gathering at OSRUI camp.   The 12 previous times were for the late spring songleading workshop, Hava Nashira.   And for two times before that,  I was a camper in the Tzofim session in 1967 and 1968 (I was a non-Boy Scout living in a tent with 5 other boys for 10 days each of those years).   Walking through the Bayit (the main "house" of the camp by the Lac La Belle) carries with it memories of dancing into the room that was once the dining hall with my fellow Tzofim campers as we joined the main program for a Shabbat song session.   

      Once again, "song" was the focus for being at OSRUI.  I already knew over half of the 50-plus participants and had attended sessions led by most of the faculty at one time or another.    I was glad to have the chance to really get to know people I hadn't met before, an opportunity made possible by our numbers.    (Note to veteran Hava Nashira participants: "Try it, you'll like it!"). 

      There were, as always, new melodies to learn and songs and compositions that I had heard before but needed to be reinforced so I could present them "back home."  There was multiple-part harmony during worship and song sessions that was rich and exquisite, demonstrating that we could generate a full sound among ourselves.   The Open mic sessions after our programming ended each day afforded an opportunity for people to share original compositions or "covers" of favorite songs, showing the wide range of talent represented among us.  

       There was a flurry of special moments throughout these few days:  washing our hands in Lac La Belle during our Friday morning service, Noam Katz's session on Songs for Social Change (music has always been a part of movements for change), our "Human bingo" mixer at which we learned a lot about one another and Michelle Citrin's summary of the bingo items with a hands-in-the-air response of "that's me!"; getting to know long-time colleagues and new fellow participants in sessions and at meals; a one-on-one sharing of original compositions with my colleague, Andy Dennen; and time spent with some very good friends.  Many thanks to our faculty for guiding us in these few days of learning and growth, as well as to Camp Director Jerry Kaye for his vision and the staff members for their support!

        The new and "watershed" experience, for me, was Josh Nelson's "Create!" group which was charged with developing a program for the Seudah Sh'leesheet "Third Meal" reflective session that preceded Saturday night dinner.  We divided into three task forces focusing on (I hope I get this right) Creation/Entry, Present/Now, Future/Exit.   Josh asked members of each group to express a vulnerability and a word that characterized each of us in relation to our theme.   Alden Solovy, a widely-known poet and liturgist whose writings I have used in services at my Temple in Las Cruces, NM, was part of our task force,  After listening to our comment, he wrote this:   

There is no empty space

In now. 

No empty space between

You and G-d.

No wound, no loss, Nothing broken,

Wholeness, Only Wholeness

Shalem. 

Feet on the ground, connected

Head in the sky, seeing

Now. 

Hearing.  Now

Only Now

There is no empty space

Between you and the heartbeat

You and the stillness. 

You and the surrender.  

So the precious present is sweet. 

With song, sweet

with joy,  sweet with 

laughter.    

 Each member of our small group contributed his/her own gifts to our presentation:  stories, readings, song (Gesher Tzar M'od - all the world is a narrow bridge), niggun (a melody without words), and an invitation for people to find a comfortable space for contemplation.     

   I had planned to sing one of my already-finished original songs in our section, but the desire to create (or maybe an outside source) presented me with a song-fragment or two during the night.   I wasn't sure if I wanted to write something new based on Alden's reading, or set his words to music.   I realized, after listening to my middle-of-the-night recording, that I had received as a "gift" a musical mode that could be applied to Alden's text. 

    After our inspiring Shabbat morning service (and lunch!), I started working with the text.  And soon after that, I sat down with Alden to share where I was going musically.   Together, we reshaped the reading into a song with a singable chorus in the course of 20 minutes.  We packed a lot of creativity and productive labor into those few moments that yielded something very special (both the song and our working together).  Once the melody and words had taken their final shape, I shared it with our small group, and it was in as the introduction to our section following Alden's reading of the beginning of the reflection.  During the the next two hours, I did all I could to keep the melody in my head!  

     Each of the CREATE groups presented a meaningful and thoughtful compilation/collaboration of expression that included music, dance, prose/poetry, visual images, and community building.  When our section of the program began, Alden read the first lines and then I "jumped feet first" into the song, a product of collaboration that demonstrates the Jewish value of chevurta/partnership at it best.  Every note, chord and the lyrics came out as planned and hoped.   You can hear the song at this link on YouTube (hopefully, a multitrack recording is forthcoming!).
"Only Now," Lyrics by Alden Solovy, Music by Larry Karol
  The lyrics that Alden worked with me to adapt for the song are on the YouTube video page.  Being among the creators of that program was a real honor.

   What I took away from this amazing experience - and Shabbat Shira in its totality - was the importance of being open to NEW experiences, to listening to others, to finding the most positive aspect of the moment, and to enjoying moments that can bring hope and joy.    

    Song has always done that for me, and each of us has the capacity to find joy in our lives.  May we seek discover that SIMCHAH, happiness and contentment, within ourselves and within the miracle of cooperation, collaboration, friendship and the ever-present possibility of making a peaceful community and world.   

Friday afternoon Faculty Music Sharing

Kiddush and Motzi after Shabbat Morning Worship ("That's Me!" on the left)

Singing "Now" with Alden Solovy right behind!

Conclusion of the Seudah Sh'leesheet presentation

Havdalah Service with a Sephardic musical theme!

The Road Ahead - and a look back - October 12, 2014

       Returning to the recording studio after a 10-year hiatus made me feel somewhat like the members of the baseball teams in the Championship series in the American League and National League.   Only the Royals (MY Royals), the Orioles, the Giants and the Cardinals remain from all the teams that played an entire season with hopes of being in the position of these four franchises.   Some players have been part of many postseasons series in past, others not at all.   Every at-bat, pitch, and strategic decision is significant.    One of my friends texted me, "Tell your Royals to settle down!"   Those were the next words out of my mouth, but I say, "can you blame them?"

       So as I stepped into the closed room to do my first vocals, with my producer, Scott Leader, looking on and guiding me, I felt that I was in some version of "musical playoffs" mode.  I knew I had to do my absolute best, while understanding that I could go back and correct what wasn't quite right.   

      The recording process is taking me back to special and important times over the last decade of my life.   I created one song before a telephone interview with a congregation.  Another marked my 25 years in the rabbinate, and yet another came to be just hours after our son Adam's graduation from Berklee College of Music.  I wrote two of the songs while serving on the faculty at the Union for Reform Judaism's Crane Lake Camp in West Stockbridge, Massachusetts.  I set Jewish texts to music to find a way to rise above the conflictual aspects of the 2012 Election and military and societal struggles during the summer of 2014.  

     Our personal expressions of thoughts and feelings at a pivotal moment in our lives or in human history (in a letter, email, article or blog) enable us to look back to that time and to see how those events affected our present.   It is very much the same with a song, but there is a depth that comes with years of presenting songs either in performance or as part of worship gatherings.  I am able to vocally reproduce the melodies and harmonies created up to nine years ago, but the singer is the "me" of today.   New life experiences take the music to a different level.   

      This coming week, Jewish congregations around the world will celebrate Simchat Torah, "Rejoicing with the Torah," ending and beginning the reading of the Torah.   My memories of this holiday go back to when I was in elementary school.   So it's just the same, year after year, right?   No, not exactly.  The  congregants who attend even in the same congregation from one year to the next can change the nature of the spirit at the service.  Perhaps we might even hear in a different way the tale of the end of Moses' career and the story of the beginning of all existence and creation, depending on where we are in our lives.   During one of my years in high school, Simchat Torah fell on my birthday, and I was far from the point of truly relating to Moses as he passed the torch of leadership to Joshua and knew that his people would enter Canaan without him.   Now, having turned 60 on the eve of Yom Kippur, Moses' time of life is much "closer to home."   

      I believe that the reason that we move straight into Genesis from Deuteornomy is to encourage us to see endings as necessarily carrying with them new beginnings.  We have the opportunity to view the vista that still lies before us as "the road ahead."   As we again recite the stories of Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel, Noah, and Abraham and his family, our past understandings of these tales can, if we let them, lead to new notions and fresh insights.   We call that growth, whether inside each of us or outside as we partner with others who join us on the journey of life.   

      Recently, Rhonda (we marked 32 years of marriage this past August) and I visited the El Camino Real de Tierra Adentro International Heritage Center in New Mexico. We were impressed at the 300 year history of this "Royal Road to the Interior Lands" that was over 400 miles long, and the vistas around this site were inspiring. 

      Jewish tradition encourages each of us to be like a Ruler who was commanded to keep a scroll of God's law in their possession.   Simchat Torah places everyone in a congregation close to the Torah scroll, giving them a chance to carry it around the sanctuary and to see it read up close.  It makes every person like a Ruler, and reminds us that the Torah is ours to have, hold and keep as a guide every day.   To contradict the singer Lorde, WE CAN ALL BE ROYALS! 

      I believe that our life journeys are like the Royal Road, which had its smooth stretches and its trecherous passages.  So do our lives have both extremes, and we make it through with the help of those close to us who are by our side.   

       I have more songs to sing as I bring this album closer to fruition, and I know that they are not just signposts of paths already traversed.  They represent the road that still lies before us, because we know better where we should go if we understand from whence we came.     

      I look forward to sharing this music, and more, as we move forward to a future filled with joy and hope!