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Devar Torah (Word of Torah)
Parashat Mishpatim
27 Shevat 5769 / 20-21 February 2009
Rabbi Joe Blair
Temple House of Israel, Staunton VA
Shabbat Service Commemorating Evolution ‘Weekend’ 2009
Shalom.
The Torah (five books of Moses) portion we have just read for this week is a combined reading, taken from the reading known as Mishpatim (Ex. 21:1-24:18), along with the reading of an excerpt taken from Ki Tisa (Ex. 30:11-16). The first section is the continuation of the reading of the Torah in the standard cycle beginning at Simchat Torah (Rejoicing in the Law), while the second section is a special additional reading to acknowledge that this is Shabbat Shekalim (the Sabbath on which we recall the per capita tax for maintenance of the Temple).
The weekly portion, Mishpatim, is a continuation of the narrative that began last week in weekly portion Yitro (Ex. 18:1-20:23), in which the people have all witnessed the revelation of G-d, and they have received and accepted the Aseret Hadibrot (the ten sayings, sometimes called the ten commandments). They have been overawed by encountering G-d, and have asked Moses to speak to G-d on their behalf.
We begin our reading this week with the people still gathered at the foot of Mount Sinai ten weeks after they have fled from Egypt. Moses is still conversing with G-d for the people, and is being given a summation of the laws that G-d commands the Hebrews to follow. Moses hears and writes it down for the people, then, as G-d instructs, Moses goes up on the mountain into the cloud of fire to be given the Tablets and to learn the full contents of the commandments.
Reading these two sections together as a whole, we find that G-d is giving Moses the information on how the people are to live in a shorter form, having Moses deliver that information, then having Moses ascend to learn the full scope of the instruction (Torah) and how to interpret and apply the laws contained in it. This section is sometimes referred to as the Sefer Habrit – the book of the covenant – setting out the rules and regulations for how to live (in an abbreviated form). This is enough for some purposes; but the full version is coming along shortly. If I just want to know what to do this minute in the normal course of events, the short form is adequate. If, however, I want to know what about in the case of a person in a space ship passing a plutoid who encounters a previously unknown type of animal…. Then, I would need to look to the full version and use the techniques given for how to apply these rules in new and unusual situations. In short, I would need to use the correct method or tool to find the answer. We always need to find and use the right tools to approach questions of import.
Not very long ago, after I had concluded telling the class the outline of the exciting story of the parting of the reed sea (not ‘Red,’ as it is so often mis-stated) to one of the younger classes in the religious school, one of the young boys in the class came up to me afterwards, and in a very earnest way, asked me, “Did that really happen?”
That young boy voiced a question that so many ask. They aren’t as direct, or as clear, and they add in all sorts of presuppositions and assumptions, but at the bottom of it all, they are asking the same thing, and for much the same reasons.
That is the question that led to the creation of the science of archeology. That is also the question that led to the development of many religious beliefs in the world. The question is common, but the tools selected to try to answer make a difference.
It seems to me, in fact, that this is the question that is at the heart of the divide in approach between those who seek a literal reading of the Scriptural text , and those who interpret it. These positions in many instances have come to be framed in the light of science versus religion.
I think that this framing is a mistaken idea. It is not one or the other; rather these are two different approaches, two sets of tools to try to examine the world around us. Human nature being what it is, when someone has a hammer, everything they see is a nail! That way lie a lot of smashed fingers, and not many answers!
The issues, when approached from each of these perspectives, present different aspects. For the religiously focused, there is a nut and bolt, and the tool needed to make it work is a wrench. In that way of thinking, the bolt is how things are, the nut is how they came to be that way, and the wrench is G-d. The goal is find and accept an explanation for what it is, and why it is as it is.
For the scientifically minded, there is a wood screw, and the tool needed is an appropriate Phillips head screwdriver. The screw is the observed world, and the screwdriver is the series of theories and experiments used to try to take the screw out of the wood. The goal is to take it all apart and see what makes it tick by eliminating all the possible explanations one by one until there is nothing else that can explain what is.
Insisting on using the tools that the other approach needs leads only to frustration and failure, and criticizing the other for using different tools is nothing but foolish.
To argue with science as a valid methodology for not being a religious approach is no more sensible than arguing with the screwdriver for not being a wrench, and vice versa. To my mind, the two approaches are compatible and congruent. As a Jew, I see no difficulty in believing in G-d, the Creator, and also in applying the scientific method to tease out more information about the world around us, the very world that G-d created! There is no need to select one or the other. Such a formulation is pointlessly divisive. If you prefer one approach or the other, that is fine; but that does not negate the other as a valid approach, when it is used for the appropriate inquiries.
More: to dogmatically and stubbornly cling to one or the other – either one – is to minimize the wonder of G-d. For example, when science seeks to dismiss the marvelous, miraculous events of this world as ‘just’ normal, it does damage to all of us as human beings who are privileged to see G-d’s handiwork in the everyday miracles of the growth of a seed into a plant that then buds and flowers, or the birth of a child with a unique, individual personality. At the same time, for the religious to scoff and jeer at the scientific approach as godless and faithless is equally an affront and belittling of G-d, because it was G-d that created mankind with the intellect and the tool making ability, coupled with the urge to explore and understand that led to the scientific method and approach.
Admittedly, I am primarily one who approaches things from a religious perspective, so the examples I am using presuppose that approach. That said, I have absolutely no problem with science, or approaching an examination of things in that fashion. As a Jew and a religious person, I am comfortable with the understanding that all knowledge is ultimately from G-d. Science is one of the ways to approach knowledge, and in that way learn more about G-d and the world that G-d has created.
Coming back to that young boy, the right answer for him was not to answer, but rather to turn the question around, and to ask him, “What do you think?” He paused, thought, and then told me, “I think people think so, but maybe it was all pretend.” He then ran off towards some of his friends. He used the tool that fit for him, and the answer he found worked for him. By giving him the freedom to answer for himself now, he has the power to revisit that question through his life, and to come to different conclusions.
As he, and we, grow and mature and change in our lives, we move back and forth between different approaches, and reach different answers at different moments. For me, this too, is part of the everyday miracle of life. We are not trapped in one view or one approach. We have the ability to find the tool that works for us and continually to find fresh insights into the nature of the world, ourselves, and G-d. To limit ourselves to one view is to put blinders on and to miss part of the marvel that is the world that G-d has made.
Shabbat shalom.
Archive for the ‘misc’ Category
Evolution ‘Weekend’ – Devar Torah on Religion & Science
Monday, March 2nd, 2009Facing Down Our Fears: Yom Kippur 5769 Sermon by Rabbi Joe Blair
Wednesday, December 10th, 2008Yom Kippur 5769
October 8-9, 2008
Rabbi Joe Blair
Facing Down our Fears
Gut Yontiff.
As one of my colleagues, Rabbi Lewis Eron of Voorhees NJ, has recently described it, we have completed the first two legs of the annual Jewish Spiritual triathlon.
We spiritually trained hard through the month of Elul, doing the work of Teshuvah.
We got to the starting block, and took off at the sound of the gun at Rosh Hashanah. We pushed ourselves and made it through the initial stage of that distance swim.
We clambered out, limbered up, and launched ourselves again immediately into the next stage, and have just completed the nine day endurance bike/run of the Yamim Nora’im, the days of Awe. Now, finally, we are here, in the midst of the 25 hour heavy power-lifting effort of Yom Kippur.
This metaphor is apt because the work we are supposed to be doing for this holiday is hard; we have to prepare ourselves for it, it comes in stages, and at the end, we can find ourselves exhausted, and though elevated by the effort, not having achieved the coveted status of ‘the winner’ – that one person recognized as the best, the highest achieving, the mark others aim to surpass in future. Most years, that seems like challenge enough.
This year, however, it feels even harder and more of a challenge than usual. This year there is so much happening in the world around us that demands our attention, that tugs at us and pulls our focus away from the world of the spiritual. It all feels so urgent, burning, and insistent.
Think about it. The news we heard just this week is terrible. Not to list all the ills of the world:
Today, in addition to the sorrows that all of us must face, the pains of losses, of illnesses, and of deaths, we are burdened by what is happening around us. We are faced with an economic crisis which is affecting most – maybe all — of us, and which is destroying many people’s lives. Think of those who are being evicted for being unable to keep up with the rising interest payments on their homes, as one example of this disaster.
Think of the kinds of natural disasters that have struck, which seem to have increased in numbers of late, and the toll in lives and property lost has been staggering, with no end in sight.
There are genocides ongoing in the world, wars that seem to have little purpose and no end, and little being done about them. Even when we try to help, it is so little compared to the needs of those suffering.
Terrorism has spread and become the de facto means of waging wars worldwide. From the middle East to India to the former Soviet Union, and now elsewhere in the world, terrorism is on the rise. We are watching tensely as nations and groups whom we have good reason to fear, some of whom hate us for simply existing, both as Americans and as Jews, come ever closer to acquiring access to weapons that are terrifying to contemplate ever being used – yet apparently they have every intention of doing so.
Our own civil liberties and most cherished rights to due process have been curtailed in the name of combating terrorism, without a hue and cry arising.
We see a massive rise in the number of anti-Semitic acts and hate crimes in the world – not just ‘over there’ – the statistics show that it is rampant right here at home.
We see the increase in power of forces of intolerance and bigotry. Here at home, the push to rescind some of the social gains that have been made over the past two generations has gained new force and adherents, and is making inroads in the public mind.
Taken altogether, in light of all this the future looks bleak, and very uncertain. We don’t know what to expect next, what will happen, how to react, how to protect ourselves and our loved ones.
So these are difficult times. Times of uncertainty, fear, anxiety, and even dread. None of us is immune or exempt from these feelings.
In times such as this, it is easy to lose heart, even easier to fall prey to fears. The crisis du jour calls us to attend. Look NOW! it screams. REACT! But I urge you – think carefully, do not fall into this trap. Do not be tempted by the siren song of urgencies!
In the words of Mordecai Kaplan:
“To find life in the present worth living, people must have faith in a future. The ultimate in human tragedy is not suffering or even death, but hopelessness. This is the true meaning of damnation. Men have been known to suffer all manner of torments and to maintain, throughout them all, a deep and abiding interest in life, to experience life as worth living.
“Martyrs, like Akiba and Socrates, have gone to their death with serenity, because they believed their death was not the final verdict on all they lived for. But it is hell to suffer evils without feeling that there is anything that we can do about them, or without the confidence that they will be abolished.
“It is the function of religion to save men from this hell, and the Jewish religion did so. How keenly our Sages predicted the need of faith in a future to give meaning and worth to the present is beautifully expressed in a midrash that comments on the prayer of Jacob at Beth El. We are told in Genesis that Jacob, when fleeing from the wrath of his brother Esau, was accorded a vision of God in a dream, and when he awoke, he set up the stone, on which he had lain, as a pillar and vowed that, if permitted to return to safety, vehayah adonai li lelohim, “the Lord shall be my God.” In saying this, our Sages explain, “Jacob gave permission to the key-word by means of which God would in future ages redeem his descendants.” All the solace and bliss that would fall to the lot of Israel would be theirs, by virtue of the rallying cry vehaya, “it shall come to pass,” that is to say by virtue of faith in the future.
“We always seem to be confronted with the alternative of either accepting the present situation as the norm, with its violence, falsehood and hate as the ultimate reality, or we must seek to save ourselves from demoralization by applying the traditional key-principle of salvation, vehayah, “it shall come to pass.” There is still a future, and in it are concealed unfathomed possibilities for good. As our vision for the future appeals more clearly to us, the evil in the world will cease to be an obsession that prevents us from beholding and enjoying the good there is in it. When we recognize an evil, let us see whether we can do something to correct it. If we can, let us do it. If not, let us defer the correction of that evil until some future time, pressing on, meanwhile, to other goals that are immediately attainable. Our tactics in contending against evil should be those of modern, noble warfare. When we encounter an obstacle that we cannot surmount, we need not let it stop us; we can bypass it while moving onward in the general direction of our goals, determined by our ethical ideals. This is the experience of salvation. It is not so much dependent on our attaining our goal as in our confidence that the goal is worth attaining, and on our wholehearted devotion to attaining it.”
—Mordecai Kaplan, The Future of the American Jew, “Hope.”
Instead of despairing, as Kaplan tells us, we must turn to religion as the source of strength and comfort that has been given us. You have already taken the first step in that direction by coming here today. Now all you need to do is attend to the very words we all say each time we come together.
In our services, in the Geulah, the section on Redemption, we read:
“In a world torn by violence and pain, a world far from wholeness and peace, a world waiting still to be redeemed, give us, Lord, the courage to say: there is one God in heaven and earth.”
This seems a pretty fair description of what we are seeing around us today. And we do need courage to assert God in the face of what we know is happening in our world. Continuing, in the Amidah, we read:
“God of Israel, may our worship on this [Sabbath] day bring us nearer to all that is high and holy. May it bind the generations in bonds of love and sharing, and unite us with our people in common hope and faith. And through [Sabbath rest and] worship, may we learn to find fulfillment and joy in the vision of peace for all the world.
“You are with us in our prayer, in our love and our doubt, in our longing to feel Your presence and do Your will. You are the still, clear voice within us. Therefore, O God, when doubt troubles us, when anxiety makes us tremble, and pain clouds the mind, we look inward for the answer to our prayers. There may we find You, and there find courage, insight, and endurance. And let our worship bring us closer to one another, that all Israel, and all who seek You, may find new strength for Your service.”
This tells us that God is with us, within us. How can we give up or give in to despair if we believe that? The very Creator – the Source of Being – is our taproot and the bedrock of our strength! Together, we acknowledge the inner source of our strength.
“We gratefully acknowledge, O Lord our God, that You are our Creator and Preserver, the Rock of our life and our protecting Shield. We give thanks to You for our lives which are in Your hand, for our souls which are ever in Your keeping, for Your wondrous providence and Your continuous goodness, which You bestow upon us day by day. Truly, Your mercies never fail, and Your lovingkindness never ceases. Therefore do we for ever put our trust in You. O God, let life abundant be the heritage of all the children of Your covenant. Blessed is the Eternal God, to whom our thanks are due.”
How do we access this inner strength? We are offered the gift of prayer to help us as we face our fears and uncertainties. We are told:
“Prayer invites God to let God’s presence suffuse our spirits, to let God’s will prevail in our lives. Prayer cannot bring water to parched fields, nor mend a broken bridge, nor rebuild a ruined city; but prayer can water an arid soul, mend a broken heart, and rebuild a weakened will.”
And we are told, we are not alone. Not only is God within us, we have each other. We are a holy community, and we support one another.
“We have come together to strengthen our bonds with our people Israel. Like Jews of generations past, we celebrate the grandeur of creation. Like Jews of every age, we echo our people’s ancient call for justice. We are Jews, but each of us is unique. We stand apart and alone, with differing feelings and insights. And yet, we are not entirely alone and separate, for we are children of one people and one heritage. And we are one in search of life’s meaning. All of us know despair and exaltation; all bear burdens; all have moments of weakness and times of strength; all sing songs of sorrow and love. In this circle of hope, in the presence of the sacred, may the heart come to know itself and its best, finding a fresh impulse to love the good. May our celebration lead us to work for the good; and may this day give strength to us and to our people Israel.”
More:
“Let there be love and understanding among us; let peace and friendship be our shelter from life’s storms. Eternal God, help us to walk with good companions, to live with hope in our hearts and eternity in our thoughts, that we may lie down in peace and rise up to find our hearts waiting to do Your will.”
Each time we pray together we announce what it is we have each committed to by our very presence:
“You shall love the Lord your God with all your mind, with all your strength, with all your being. Set these words, which I command you this day, upon your heart. Teach them faithfully to your children; speak of them in your home and on your way, when you lie down and when you rise up. Bind them as a sign upon your hand; let them be a symbol before your eyes; inscribe them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates. Be mindful of all My mitzvoth, and do them; so shall you consecrate yourselves to your God. I, the Lord, am your God who led you out of Egypt to be your God; I, the Lord, am your God.”
In light of all this, knowing that we have the strength of God within us, and the community around us supporting us, we should not be cowed by fear or doubts. We are not alone! We are not powerless!
These beliefs are our touchstones. Our only chance of dealing with fears and uncertainties is to face them in light of our core beliefs and knowing that we are loved and supported. How, then, can we give in to despair?
Rather, with the certainties and the support that this knowledge brings us, we have hope and strength. We can face our fears. We can overcome our troubles and afflictions. We can rise above them. We can scale the heights, and keep our focus on the spiritual aspect of life, seeing God in those around us, seeking to do God’s work in the world.
So as we come to the end of this third leg of the spiritual triathlon, even if we aren’t declared ‘the winner’ of the spiritual marathon of these holy days, each one of us who has seriously undertaken the effort ‘wins.’ Even now, in the midst of this solemn occasion, this high holy day, I want to offer my congratulations to each of you for being a ‘winner’- a status you have earned simply by making the effort, holding your focus, being here as part of our community and as an expression of God in the world. Please accept my ‘high five’ to you. No need for gator ade showers today. Our spiritual high is enough. J
May you, may we all, know that we have support and strength that arises from deep within us, from a place that taps the core of our beliefs as the source. May we draw on that source wisely, and use it to do what we know is right and good in the world, and in that way, go from strength to strength and be strong. Chazak, chazak venitchazek.
Leshanah tovah umetukah tichateimu!
Affirming the Dignity of All: An Interfaith Litany based on the Declaration of Human Rights
Wednesday, December 10th, 2008Friends,
Today (December 10th, 2008) is the 60th anniversary of the signing of the U.N.’s Declaration on Human Rights.
A colleague and classmate from rabbinical school has produced the following litany which can be read in commemoration of that event. I thought it worth sharing with you. My appreciation to Rabbi Joshua Lesser for permitting me to share this.
Rabbi Joe
Affirming the Dignity of All: An Interfaith Litany based on the Declaration of Human Rights
inspired by the DHR in its many forms by Rabbi Joshua Lesser
When we are born, we are free. Each of us is worthy to be treated in the same manner. We must have conscience and act towards one another with mutual concern.
As People of Faith, we affirm the dignity, the equality and the rights of all members of the human family. Our Oneness is the foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world.
Though we are from different countries, we share the same rights without distinction of any kind, such as race, skin color, sex, language, religion, political or other opinion, social origin, property, birth or other status.
As People of Faith, we affirm the dignity, the equality and the rights of all members of the human family. Our Oneness is the foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world.
All people have the right to live, to enjoy freedom, to rely upon safety. Slavery in all forms is an affront to these rights as is the practice of torture.
As People of Faith, we affirm the dignity, the equality and the rights of all members of the human family. Our Oneness is the foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world.
Everyone has the right to recognition everywhere as a person before the law, to be legally protected in the same way everywhere, and like everyone else. No one has the right to be imprisoned, accused falsely or to be sent from their country unjustly. Everyone is entitled to a fair trial while being considered innocent until proven guilty.
As People of Faith, we affirm the dignity, the equality and the rights of all members of the human family. Our Oneness is the foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world.
All people are deserving of protection in the face of harm. No one should be subjected to arbitrary interference to privacy, family, or correspondence, nor to attacks upon honor and reputation. If these things occur, all people have the right to protection from the law.
As People of Faith, we affirm the dignity, the equality and the rights of all members of the human family. Our Oneness is the foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world.
Everyone has the right to come and go as we wish. The right to asylum,
a nationality, and the freedom to change nationality is everyone’s right.
As People of Faith, we affirm the dignity, the equality and the rights of all members of the human family. Our Oneness is the foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world.
People of legal age, without any limitation due to race, nationality or religion, have the right to marry and to establish a family. Motherhood and childhood are entitled to special care and assistance. All children, regardless of how they were born, deserve the same social protection.
As People of Faith, we affirm the dignity, the equality and the rights of all members of the human family. Our Oneness is the foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world.
The right to own property to freedom of thought, conscience and religion, opinion and expression is everyone’s right. All people have the right to freedom of peaceful assembly and association and are entitled to participate in government and in free elections.
As People of Faith, we affirm the dignity, the equality and the rights of all members of the human family. Our Oneness is the foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world.
Each of us has the right to work, to be free to choose our work, and to get a salary which allows us to support our family. If a man and a woman do the same work, they should get the same pay. All people who work have the right to join together to defend their interests.
As People of Faith, we affirm the dignity, the equality and the rights of all members of the human family. Our Oneness is the foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world.
Everyone has the right to go to school and receive an education and parents have the prior right to choose the kind of education that shall be given to their children.
As People of Faith, we recognize the dignity, the equality and the rights of all members of the human family. Our Oneness is the foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world.
Everyone has the right to participate in the cultural life of their society, to enjoy the arts and to appreciate the scientific advancement and its benefits. Everyone has the right to the protection of the moral and material interests resulting from scientific, literary or artistic creation of which he or she is the originator.
As People of Faith, we affirm the dignity, the equality and the rights of all members of the human family. Our Oneness is the foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world.
We have obligations towards the community within which each of us can only fully develop. The law should guarantee human rights. It should allow everyone to respect others and to be respected.
As People of Faith, we affirm the dignity, the equality and the rights of all members of the human family. Our Oneness is the foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world
Rosh Hashanah 5769 Sermon by Rabbi Joe
Friday, October 3rd, 2008Our Community & Miracles 5769 Rabbi Joe Blair
This past year was a year of much activity in our community, much going on. Most of you can think back and recall it.
This past year, we have had more than our share of illness; we suffered deaths, close calls, health scares, a number of personal tragedies, and many troubles. We saw job losses, estrangements, and accidents. The number and variety of traumas among our community has been greater than anyone could have guessed. We have seen many lives of those among us changed in significant ways; much sadness, sorrow, and loss. And we have ALL been touched by it.
At the same time, some (even much) of what has occurred has been good, sometimes even wonderful. Our community has been strong, and supported each other and those in the larger community. We have given; financially and personally. We have striven to make a difference, to help others, to live out the Jewish values we hold dear.
A few examples: We held healing services for our community to help address the pain we felt. The caring committee came into formal being and has been active ever since. We established the Chevrah Kadishah, the holy burial society, and the members stand ready to perform, offering the most selfless act possible – for those whom they help in this way can never give anything in return.
We added regular Shabbat morning services to our calendar, providing another opportunity and way to join together and to share the peace of Shabbat. We had the first Holocaust Education Week, and worked with the larger community to make known the fact that it is everyone’s responsibility to support the idea of ‘never again.’ The Staunton Jewish Film Festival was successfully initiated, reaching out to Jews and non-Jews alike. We added many opportunities for education and Jewish learning at all levels.
We were blessed with several new Jewish souls, and in the course of this year we celebrated at least one naming, one bris, one marriage, and one B’nai Mitzvah.
We know that our community is a blessing. In times of trouble our community supports and sustains us. In moments of celebration the same members of the community share our joys and uplift us.
What we don’t know until it is our turn to be supported is just how much of a blessing our community really is. We can not even imagine how important, how meaningful, how supportive it is to have the community members there when they are most needed to keep one from feeling utterly alone and abandoned. At those times, when we question G-d most, at times of pain and trouble, to have others stand beside you as you face those feelings is more than anyone can describe. It is a deep, loving, and life-sustaining link that is felt and understood, but is inexplicable and unexpressible.
Our community is more than those we happen to live amongst. The community we live in is our place of prayer, and often, as we have seen, it is also the answer to our prayers. It is the locus for our life cycles, and the stage where we live out our life. Our joys and sorrows play out against the backdrop of that community. Community is always there, around us. Without community, we would be lost.
Just as others are there for you, you have also been there for those others. Make no mistake: you are as much needed by them, as they are by you.
Recently I have heard someone say, ‘but I was just doing what is right, or what I should’, or ‘I really didn’t do anything, I just said a few words’ or ‘I just brought by some food because I knew they wouldn’t have a chance to stop and get something’, or ‘I just called or dropped by to let them know I was thinking of them – they didn’t really need me to talk to them, and I couldn’t do anything for them.’
Not so, my friends. Not so at all. You can have no idea how much your simple presence, or your smile, a friendly word, or a small gesture can mean to someone as they face the dark moments of the soul. What you do is NOT a small thing. Never say, ‘just’.
A story to help me illustrate this point:
[Here I reold the story of “Just a Miracle” by Rabbi Mitch Chefitz about Elijah and recognizing
miracles, where the word 'just' blinds everyone to their presence.]
My friends, never imagine that there is not a miracle in the very existence of each one of us. Every moment is full of miracles – what I call ‘everday miracles’. The smile of a child, the beauties of the setting of the sun, the rainbow after a storm, the mountains and foothills rising up, the mist lifting above the trees in the morning, and the waves on the shore.
It is up to us to make the effort to find them, to see them, to recognize them for what they are. Each one is a tiny, perfect moment, a glimpse of what is and what can be, and we can find them when we look. That is why there are specific blessings for such experiences in our tradition.
And sometimes, just sometimes, we are fortunate enough to discover and to see that these tiny everyday miracles join together to form larger miracles. When we think of the wave, we see this in microcosm.
At the moment, we look and see that there is one perfect wave, one tiny miracle that hits the shore. If we continue to watch and see , we see another, and another, and another - an unending stream of waves that each roll up and crash upon the beach. This endless ebb and flow of wave following wave following wave is what makes for the larger miracle, an ongoing miracle.
Each single event is a tiny miracle. Together they create something much more than the sum of their parts. So it is with us and our community.
When you look around you in this sanctuary, when you see the others here, and feel the sense of kehillah kedoshah (holy community) that together we create, you sense how all of the other people are here and supporting you in creating this community. Their presence is important to you now, today. Equally so, you are supporting them, and your presence is important to each of them.
That sense of mutual suport is one of the ways that you know that our community would not be as strong, and vibrant, as healthy, or as full of love as it is without you, as it is with you as part of it. Your very presence is one of the tiny miracles, as is the presence of each other person here. All of us together are what makes up this community. And we all, together, add our tiny evertday miracles one on top of another, building up, and creating the larger miracle that goes on and reaches far beyond any one of us can imagine.
So always remember: you are not ‘just’ anything – you are a tiny miracle to others, and an integral part of the larger ongoing miracle of our community. Our community is there for you, as you are there for it. Chazak, chazak venitchazek. May our community go from strength to strength in strength.
Leshanah tovah umetukah tikateivu
Rabbi Joe
Rosh Hashanah 5769 Sermon by Rabbi Sue Elwell
Friday, October 3rd, 2008““???? ??? ????
Hayom Harat Olam
Erev Rosh HaShana
Temple Beth El, Harrisonburg, VA
September 29, 2008/1 Tishrei 5769
““???? ??? ????
These three words, which are found in our machzor, our High Holiday prayerbook, are often translated as “today the world is created,” or “today is the birthday of the world.”
My colleague Rabbi Ayelet Cohen teaches that a closer look at these three words “tells us much more. ???? means ‘today,’ that part is simple enough. But the Hebrew word???? means not only ‘world,’ it also means ‘forever/eternity.’” Today eternity is created. Today forever begins.
So a simple phrase that might have led us into a chorus of happy birthday rather stops us– and asks us to think not only about marking time, but rather to consider the nature of time. We are invited to consider the relationship not only of then and now, but how now relates to forever.
Rabbi Cohen continues, and further challenges us: “The word ??? is the most difficult one in the phrase. It comes from the Hebrew ?????, or pregnancy. Here it functions as a verb and a noun at the same time, implying a creative act that is not sudden or abrupt but one that requires a long period of gestation. The elasticity of the words and of this phrase teaches us to go beyond the simple meaning. When we read???? ??? ???? in our ????? we are saying, ‘Today the world was created,’ but also ‘Today we celebrate the constant creation of the world.’ Today is pregnant with eternal creation.”[1]
Hayom Harat Olam becomes, then, not only a statement, but also a challenge. On this day, we consider not only how we live in and measure time, but also how we honor, mirror and illuminate the mystery of continuing creation.
Let us take a moment to listen to the world. Let us take a moment to listen to eternity. Don’t get up. Stay in your seat. Begin to listen. You may settle more deeply into the pew, letting go of any physical stress or discomfort you may have been experiencing. You may want to straighten up to better hear the sounds that are waiting for you to hear. You may feel your spirit moving to the back of the sanctuary, or even out of the door, ready to dance in the evening breeze. Let yourself listen.
What do you hear? Do you hear the clouds whispering as they glide across the night sky? Do you hear the earth settling in for the night, relieved that the majority of humans who have illusions of control as they drive and cycle and walk on the earth are now, because of the dark, huddled in their frail buildings, leaving the out of doors to the insects and birds and animals who know how to navigate the night? Do you hear those creatures calling to one another in forests and deserts and on mountain tops? Do you hear the quiet murmurings of parents on the other side of the globe as they tuck their children into bed or as they gently wake them as the new day dawns? Can you hear this beautiful, fragile universe breathing, humming, singing?
Listen.
Do you want to respond? Do you want to join in?
Can you find a voice in which to harmonize with or provide a counterpoint to this song?
Some of us are life long members of the world choir. Some of us hear—and join—in the song of eternity every time we garden, or when we sing a child to sleep, or when we sit beside one who needs our presence. Some of us feel our hearts open in song every time we enter this building.
Others of us are straining to hear the music. Some of us have closed our ears and our hearts. Some of us have accepted deafness as our permanent condition. But the universe is singing to us, every day of our lives. On this night, Judaism urges every one of us to rouse ourselves from the slumber that has prevented us from hearing eternity’s song. Hayom Harat Olam: today is the day when birthpangs rock our world, when creation begins anew.
What is one of the messages of eternity’s song? The Torah teaches in the Book of Numbers:
And in the seventh month, on the first day of the month, you shall have a holy convocation: You shall do no manner of work; it is a day of blowing the horn unto you. (Numbers 29:1)
And in the Book of Leviticus:
In the seventh month, in the first day of the month, shall be a solemn rest unto you, a memorial proclaimed with the blast of horns, a holy convocation. (Leviticus 23:24)
The chorus of eternity’s song may be as simple as: observe this holy day. Mark this anniversary of creation. One verse says: Do not work. Another verse directs us to blow the shofar.
The shofar sounds, and we begin to wake up. We awaken to eternity’s challenge: be present. Be here now. Make this day the first day of the rest of your life.
A Talmudic teaching: “R. Zevid said, ‘if the first day of Rosh Hashana is warm, the whole year will be warm; if cold, the whole year will be cold’”. (Baba Batra 147a)[2]
Rabbi Zevid was not speaking about the temperature outside. Rather, he was speaking about the temperature inside. He was addressing the enthusiasm, the passion with which each of us approaches this day. Do we “warm” to this day, opening ourselves to the heat that true engagement demands? Do we turn up the heat of our spirits on this day of creation, this day when we glimpse eternity? Or are we tepid, lukewarm, room temperature? Have we, over the years, cooled down or even cooled off? Have we become cold, finding the entire enterprise of Judaism and Jewish practice chilly, off putting, frozen?
We all know that in order for human beings to function, we must maintain a particular, and in fact a very particular, body temperature. When we are ill, when our equilibrium is upset, our body temperature may drop or soar and prevent us from thinking clearly. When we become seriously overheated, or if our body temperature drops precipitously, our very lives are endangered. On this day, we are reminded that our lives depend on balance. And our spiritual lives depend on creating a climate of sufficient warmth so that we not only survive but thrive.
I would like to propose that there are, for each of us, three steps to waking up, and to opening the way to a year of warmth. These three steps can also be imagined as three concentric circles with permeable, shimmering boundaries. We begin with focusing on care for our souls. Then we expand our focus to our intimate companions. Then we extend our focus to the larger world. Join me as we explore three interrelated responses to the call of the shofar, to the call of the universe.
The Jewish calendar gives us ample opportunity to prepare for this Rosh Hashana day. Too few of us take advantage of the month of Elul, the month that precedes and ushers in Rosh Hashana. This is a month when we are invited and encouraged to engage in the process of heshbon hanefesh, taking an accounting of our souls. In fact, the shofar that will rouse us from our slumber tomorrow morning has been warmed up, so to speak, by being sounded every day during the month that preceded this day. Whether we took advantage of this month of preparation or not, each of us can now enter this process of caring for ourselves, for our spirits, for our souls. Our tradition teaches that rather than being a narcissistic or anti-social exercise, taking stock of and taking responsibility for one’s behavior and actions is what mature individuals must do. During the month of Elul and the first ten days of Tishrei, beginning today and continuing until Yom Kippur, we are encouraged to focus on our own lives, on how we care for ourselves, body and soul.
If we don’t care for ourselves, we cannot be present for others. Rosh Hashana, then, is a wake up call to each of us to mind our own health. To make sure that we have regular physical exams, and that we heed the direction and advice of our health care professionals. Rosh HaShana is a perfect time to re-commit ourselves to a regular program of exercise, or to a new approach to modulating our eating patterns.
But health is not confined to the body. How is our intellectual health? What are we reading? With whom do we engage in conversation? Are we speaking only to those with whom we agree? Are we open to ideas that challenge us and make us stretch intellectually? And what about our spiritual health? How do we, day after day, week after week, care for our souls?
We Jews are blessed with many tools for maintaining health. Our tradition has a rich body of prayers and texts that can be used as daily practice, from the moment we open our eyes until we close them again at the end of the day. By thanking God every time we eat, we are engaging in a spiritual practice of gratitude We are also making an explicit connection between our responsibility of caring for our bodies and our appreciation of our place in God’s universe. We begin at home—in the home of our own bodies, the bodies that are the physical container, the temporary home for our durable and infinite souls.
The renewed self, however, does not live alone. Every one of us gathered in this sanctuary tonight, whether we live alone in a modest apartment or in a rambling house, or whether we live in a dwelling that is filled with others and their comings and goings—each of us lives in a context of intimate relations. Whether we eat breakfast every day with our intimates, or whether they are thousands of miles away—each of us is in the center of a particular circle of souls. Some of us are quite conscious—and insistent—about our place as the center, the focal point of that circle. Others of us never think of ourselves that way. I ask you to take this time to place yourself in the center of the unique web that is your life now. Who are the people with whom you interact every day, those who make up your daily world now? This is your intimate circle. Whether these people are related to you or not, whether you have chosen these beloveds and companions or not, I ask you now to focus on these primary connections.
What is the quality of your interactions with these individuals? If you are truly taking care of yourself (step one), you are making space to be present for another. As we all know, intimate relationships are very demanding. They ask us to be present, to show up, to listen, and to interact. Many intimate relationships that come to an end do so because one of the partners is no longer present. He or she became distracted—by work or by something else that pulled them away from the demanding work of being present, showing up so that exchanges of quality and substance and meaning can happen.
Today is the day when we are called by the shofar to pay attention to our relationships. When we take ourselves seriously, we attend to appropriate self care. The healthy self can extend care to others. Our tradition teaches that these two circles of care are essential but insufficient.
My colleague Rabbi Jan Katzew recently shared the following teaching of Isaac Luria, the sixteenth century kabbalist. As you may know, Rosh Hashana is observed for two days in Israel, and in most communities around the world. In the Talmud, which is written in Aramaic, these two days of Rosh Hashana are called yom arichta, one long day. What does this mean? Chaim Vital, Isaac Luria’s student, tells that Luria’s response is that the two days of Rosh HaShana are like one long day. The work of the first day is to turn one’s attention inward: to review one’s deeds, to conduct a heshbon hanefesh. The work of the second day is to turn one’s attention to the world, to address oneself to tikkun olam. Tradition teaches us that this is the work of one long day: the work of each day is necessary but insufficient. The work of both days, together, is the essential challenge of this day of renewal.
HaYom Harat Olam. This day, when each of us is challenged to open our hearts and minds as the shofar jolts us from our slumber—this very day calls us to find a balance that works for us—between our inner work and our outer work, between caring for ourselves and caring for the world.
Today is a day to examine the causes, projects and the communities in which we are engaged. These days of reflection challenge us to re-evaluate and re-assess our involvement: are we lukewarm or have we cooled off? This is a time to remember and reclaim the heat that drew us to the work that reflects our vision of what the world can be. This day is a day to reclaim the sacred Jewish obligation of repairing the world.
Today the world is created. Today is pregnant with eternity. Tonight we listen to the universe calling us, challenging each one of us to wake up and to shake off the chill of our slumber. The silence and the song that we hear when we open our hearts includes the songs of our souls, the music of our souls bound up with the lives of others, the songs of our souls bound up with the world entire. The universe invites us to join the dance of repair and of return, and to sing songs of wholeness, hope and peace.
Let us go forth, my friends, with deep thanks to the Source of all for enabling us to once again celebrate creation. Cradled in the arms of this beautiful world, sheltered beneath the endless skies, may each of us be privileged to hear –and to sing–eternity’s song every evening, and every morning, of this new year.
Jews & that ‘other’ holiday
Monday, December 24th, 2007It is December 24th. Just about everywhere is going to close very shortly, and there will be nothing open for the next 24 hours.
Most of my neighbors and the members of my secular community are going to be celebrating a holiday. Some will do so in a secular fashion. A few will do so in a religious fashion. Most will create some mix of the two.
For me, my family, and my religious community, this is an odd day. It is an enforced day off of work for most (not that I hear many complaints on that score!). It is not a holiday. This year, in fact, it is not even close to any Jewish holiday. It is not a meaningful day in any way for us. There is no religious significance, and no cultural significance.
Once you look at the lights on your neighbors houses, there is not much left to do. I, for one, cannot stand the same old fare that appears from year to year on television (I am not much of a TV watcher, anyway), and the radio blasts a mind-numbing wintry mix of badly performed carols, sappy stories, and other pointless things that are just plain annoying.
So, what’s a Jew (or any non-Christian) to do?
It turns out that the only places that are reliably open on Christmas day are: (1) Chinese restaurants, and (2) movie theatres. Voila! The Answer!
I wish my Christian neighbors and friends a happy, meaningful, and beautiful Christmas. I hope that they will be moved and filled with the spirit of their holiday, andf that there will be peace on earth, as they sing. As for me, and my family and friends, we will be enjoying movies and chinese food! 
Seasons greetings to all.
Rabbi Joe
What does your rabbi do? Part 9
Monday, December 24th, 2007New Initiatives:
What does your rabbi do? Part 8
Monday, December 24th, 2007Outreach/Inreach:
What does your rabbi do? Part 7
Monday, December 24th, 2007The
What does your rabbi do? Part 6
Monday, December 24th, 2007Youth Activities:
What does your rabbi do? Part 5
Monday, December 24th, 2007College Students:
What does your rabbi do? Part 4
Monday, December 24th, 2007Pastoral Care:
What does your rabbi do? Part 3
Monday, December 24th, 2007Services:
What does your rabbi do? Part 2
Monday, December 24th, 2007What does your rabbi do? Part 1
Monday, December 24th, 2007I was asked to write a report to the Congregation for the annual meeting. I did, and it turned out FAR too long to deliver, so I gave a very abbreviated verbal summary. It was suggested that I post the report in segments here on the blog. It sounded like a good idea, so here goes!
Rabbi’s Report to the Annual Meeting of the Congregation, December 2nd, 2007
This Year
A Thought on Light at Chanukah Time
Wednesday, November 21st, 2007A Thought on Light at Chanukah Time
Rabbi Joe Blair
Chanukah is often thought of as the holiday of light, or lights. After the difficult times of oppression and persecution, a moment arrived when we (through the Hasmoneans) were victorius, with G-d’s help carving out a respite in the ongoing war, lightening and enlightening the world for a time. We recall the re-kindling of faith and hope as the
That light, the light of the presence of G-d among us, shines on still. That light cannot be extinguished, but it can be made dim and difficult, even impossible to see. In our day, there are reasons that the light is not apparent to us.
Today, we must acknowledge that the holy light of the presence of G-d among us is not visible to us. It is clouded by the darkness of war in many places. It is obscured by the existence of hate, bigotry, and prejudice among us, and within us. It is masked by the use of violence and bloodshed as tools to quash others. It is concealed by the cries of those who feel the sting of poverty and degradation. It is hidden by the intolerance and lack of acceptance of others not exactly like us. It is covered by the actions and choices of our elected and appointed officials, in our name, in perpetrating actions we do not and cannot condone or accept. It is veiled by the actions and words of our leaders, religious and secular, who use their position to further their own ends and not G-d’s. It is buried by the vicious, genocidal actions of so many in too many places.
If we are to truly kindle the light of Chanukah, we must re-dedicate ourselves to the pursuit of justice and righteousness. We must partner with G-d in making the world more perfect, more fit for the presence of G-d among us, so that the light of G-d’s presence will shine forth brightly, illuminating all in every corner of this world.
There are so very many needs, and so many worthy ways to work towards this end. I pray that we each choose at least one among them, and dedicate and re-dedicate ourself to the holy tasks of Tikkun Olam (repair of the world) and Rodef Tzedek (pursuit of righteousness) to help bring light to the world at this season of the year when light is on our mind. .
Rabbi Joe
Sermon: Yom Kippur – Chance Encounters
Thursday, October 18th, 2007Yom Kippur 5768 Chance EncountersRabbi Joe Blair
Monday evening, after a fairly long and very busy day, I left the office at the synagogue, and made my way towards home. My day had started with a flat tire when I went out to the car, and after changing the tire and cleaning up, I made a detour on the way to the office to drop the car off to have the tires replaced, the car aligned, and the brakes checked – a routine service which had been delayed a little too long. In the late afternoon, they called and I went and picked up the car, then returned to the office to continue what I was working on for a few more hours. It was after eight when I left, and it was already dark. As is so often the case, for me, at least, my mind was full of the events of my day: fragments of conversations, nagging problems, unresolved feelings; the list of things I would need to do, things I had forgotten to do, things I should not have done; and a whole host of other bits of the flotsam and jetsam of my day. Nonetheless, I was still alert, awake, and attentive as I steered my car towards home. There was a good amount of traffic on the main highways, but once I got off on the smaller secondary roads it dissipated, and there were few cars on the road as I came close to home. I have driven the same route almost daily for the last four plus years. I am quite familiar with it, and there are few locations along it that I can’t pick out or picture in my mind’s eye. Consequently, I am fairly comfortable driving along it, and have a sense of when to slow down for upcoming curves and hills, as well as knowing where the straightaways make for easy driving. Never, however, have I imagined anything out of the ordinary happening along that route, so I was utterly taken by surprise when suddenly, out of nowhere, seemingly from thin air, a deer dropped from above me onto the roadway no more than one foot in front of my car. I tried to swerve, and I did my best to stop, but it was completely futile. I was traveling at between 45 and 50 miles per hour (the speed limit there is 55), and a car just won’t turn or stop in one foot of distance. I hit the deer. In less than the blink of an eye, that deer flew off my hood and into the brush and trees on the side of the road at that place. A cloud of steam billowed out from under my hood, and the front of the car bounced violently up and down, bottoming out. The tires squealed as I stomped on the brake pedal. It all took just an instant. By the time I could stop the car, and pull over and get out to try to see if there was anything to be done, I heard a crashing of brush receding into the distance. I had to accept that as indicating that the deer had survived and was able to resume its progress. My car was not nearly so resilient. It is in the body shop having most of the front end replaced. So much for the alignment done that afternoon! I know that deer are overpopulated in this area, that they are not suited to survive in a suburban environment, and that Virginia has the largest number of deer-car accidents in the US, but I still felt and feel badly. I can’t help but wonder if I had done something a little differently, or come along ten seconds earlier, or five seconds later, if the whole incident would have been avoided. The very chance nature of our encounter, intersecting only for a split second, only at that precise time and place, is amazing. Any small change on the part of the deer or by me would have changed that incident significantly. In a sense, the very fact that we did intersect is a small miracle. It seems that we are constantly ‘happening’ to have things occur to us, that chance plays a huge role. Perhaps, on a personal scale, this is what chaos theory is supposed to help explain. (If I am mistaken in my use of the term, I know that the physicists in the congregation will correct my misapprehension shortly enough.) I couldn’t help but think about this idea of chance and happenstance as it plays out in our daily lives. Think about these examples: If I had stopped for coffee instead of going straight home, I would have missed that deer. If I had not had the tires changed and the alignment and brakes done, I might have been less able to steer, slow, and stop and much worse could have happened. Similarly, if I had not forgotten to pick up the book to return, I would not have had to make an extra trip to the library. If I had not gone back into the house to retrieve something I forgot, I would not have missed the phone call at the office. If I had not missed the phone call, I would have been able to meet my friend for dinner. If I had not turned off my cell phone, I would have known that my appointment was cancelled and been able to do something else. It all seems so random, so subject to chance. Is this really the organizing principle for our lives? Of course, chance is one way to describe it, but perhaps a better term would be ‘opportunity.’ At the risk of exposing my age, I recall reading a series of books by Carlos Castaneda about a Yaqui sorcerer named Don Juan who lived largely in rural areas of the west coast of
Rabbi Sue’s Rosh Hashanah Sermon 5768
Tuesday, September 18th, 2007Standing on One FootRosh HaShana SermonRabbi Sue Levi Elwell
Staunton/Harrisonberg,
A respite….
Tuesday, October 24th, 2006The spate of fall holidays has ended. We have come to the time of calm after the storm. We have a period of about eight weeks this year with the only holiday being Shabbat, the weekly sabbath, and Rosh Chodesh, the new month.
It strikes me that this period of regularity and ‘normalcy’ is a welcome time, a chance to regain balance and perspective after the exciting but disruptive period of so many holidays and so much emotional energy. There is an almost frantic pace that the holiday period raises. We need the break, a respite from all the emotional energy that the holidays generate and absorb.
Perhaps there is method to the madness: the alternation of the time of excitement and observances and the more placid time following may be a healthy approach, allowing us to scale the heights and traverse the lows, on the one hand, and to stroll placidly on the straight, smooth paths on the other.
May we all enjoy and benefit from this quieter time, and use it to refresh ourselves, and to reflect and to pray for peace.
Shalom,
Rabbi Joe Blair
The day of tarrying
Monday, October 16th, 2006If you have ever had a big family rite of passage – a Bar Mitzvah, or a wedding, for example – with lots of out of town guests, you know that often not only do you have the ceremony and reception, but you also host a morning after breakfast. This is because all those who are from the local area can go home, but those who make a major effort and travel a distance to be there will not be able to go home that day, and you want to acknowledge their presence and the effort they have made to share in your joyous occasion. In effect, you have some of the family and closest friends hanging around afterwards and visiting.
In a way, that is what Shemini Atzeret is. We have just had the holiday of Sukkot, where all nations/peoples are able to come and worship G-d, and offer their sacrifices in the Temple. A big party, rejoicing in the harvest and in creation, for a large guest list – like a wedding! Most of the guests go home, but the close family hangs around to visit. The most dear relative, of course, is G-d, and we want to have a small private time to spend with G-d, so we have an extra day, a day of tarrying with G-d.Â
I really love this image of a quiet moment spent with those closest to us, so I have a soft spot for Shemini Atzeret.
Shalom,
Rabbi Joe Blair Â
The nature of nature
Wednesday, October 11th, 2006Sukkot, the time of our rejoicing, the harvest festival, the feast of booths…. All names for the same holiday. A seven day period celebrating the harvest, and the relationship to G-d in the wilderness, and creation – nature. This seems to cover a wide range and a lot of territory….
Maybe it helps to remember that this is THE Universal holiday. The holiday for ALL peoples. When we read in the Torah about the Temple times, what we learn is that a sacrifice was offered to G-d on behalf of every single people/state/nation/group. That is why there are a total of seventy sacrifices described – one for each people that the Torah believed existed. No exclusions mentioned….
Anyone who wanted could come and offer their sacrifice in the Temple – it just had to meet the requirements to be a suitable type. No one had to say they were a Hebrew, or claim to be anything at all. They simply brought their offering to G-d. No checking at the door to make sure you were ‘one of us’, or that you believed ‘correctly’. That was your business, and G-d’s. I like this – it makes me positively recall that all humanity are of one kind. What we see as our differences are just how we do things, not what we are or where we come from….
The sense of being close to nature here is very physical. We sit in a hut, or booth, the Sukkah. The roof is made from growing plants. It is incomplete and not water tight. We are exposed to the weather, to the wind, to the air. We do not control our environment, we are not in charge! The walls and roof of the Sukkah are only partial barriers to the wind, rain, and sun. A physical metaphor for life…..
Happy Sukkot!
Rabbi Joe Blair
May you be sealed….
Tuesday, October 3rd, 2006The greeting from Rosh Hashanah on is Leshanah tovah tichateimu, may you be sealed for a good year. This is in reference to the image of the ‘book of life’. According to this analogy or image, G-d sits in judgement on us at Rosh Hashanah, and writes our name and fate in the book of life. Then, we have some time, the period of the yamim nora’im (days of awe) to affect the ’sentence’ by our behavior – through sincere repentance, acts to repair injuries we have caused and to seek forgiveness of those we have hurt, and finally to reslove not to repeat our misdeeds. On Yom Kippur, at the end of the Neilah (concluding) services, as full darkness approaches, we imagine that the gates of Heaven are ‘closing’ to our pleas, and when they close, the book of life will be sealed with the judgement as it is written at that moment. It is an awesome, perhaps even terrifying image.
Because we believe that G-d is merciful, it is not the death of sinners that G-d seeks, but their repentance and return to the proper way. In that sense, we know that it is within the power of every person to ‘change’ the judgement – to at the least mitigate the severity of that imagined fate written in that metaphorical book of life. And because we believ that all people seek to live and to have a good life, we think that everyone will do all that is within their power to make the judgement as positive as possible. For that reason, we speak and think as if the judgement will be for a good fate, and we wish each other that this good judgement will be ’sealed’ in the book of life, left intact and positive, and followed in the year ahead of us.
So may you be sealed for a good year in 5767.
Rabbi Joe Blair
Happy New Year! Afflict yourself!
Tuesday, September 26th, 2006Today is Monday, September 25th.
A random thoguht for today.
We have just celebrated Rosh Hashanah (from Friday night to Sunday night in the Diaspora). Rosh Hashanah celebrates the anniversary of Creation, the birthday of the world, so to speak. It also celebrates and acknowledges G-d as the sovereign power, the creator, and the source of all being.
Today is Ta’anit Gedaliah, the fast day commemorating the assasination of Gedaliah, the last autonomous Jewish governor before the imposition of outside gevernance, prior to the destruction of the second Temple. This fast is not widely observed at this point, and many Jews are not even aware of it.  However, it appears on the Jewish calendar each year on the day following Rosh Hashanah.
Thinking about this juxtapostion, the question that comes to my mind is, “what does it mean to begin the new year with a day of fasting and sadness?”
Rosh Hashanah is itself a holiday with mixed emotions attached. On the one hand, we are celebrating and rejoicing in creation. On the other we are steeping back and dealing with the idea that this is the time each year that G-d is sitting in judgement, determining what fate we deserve in the year to come. That latter view is why we call the period from Rosh Hashanah to Yom Kippur the Yamim Nora’im (days of awe or fear). To think seriously that what will happen to me in the coming year depends on how I did last year gives new meaning to the term ‘test anxiety’.
And here the caledar adds to the stress level by causing us to think back and remember and mourn a political assasination that happened over 2000 years ago!
WHY?
I have no answer that was given me from the wisdom of the ages. All I can think is that it is not just a quirk of timing, an accidental placement of the two events on the calendar. So I have to find my own idea of a reason. Each year it changes: here is what I have come up with as my thought for this year.
Like a Jewish wedding, at which we smash a glass – some say as a reminder of those who cannot share our joy in the moment – perhaps beginning the year with a moment of sober rememberance may temper our joy for the instant, but help us to appreciate it all the more. When things are good, when we are rejoicing, we tend not to remember those who are not included in our circle, not to recall the sadness and tragedies of life that others may be encountering at that very same moment. Closer to home, we do not think about what might go wrong, or what we have already dealt with when we arrive at a moment of joy. We focus on the good feelings engendered and feel happy. Perhaps, we would be even more joyous if we could balance that joyous moment with how far it is from the moments of fear, depression, sadness, loneliness, anger, and other negative emotions that we have all experienced, and will all experience. Joy is all that much sweeter when it is possible to see it in stark contrast to the negative.
Perhaps.
I wish you joy and happiness, peace, health, prosperity, love, and all good things in the year to come.
Shanah tovah umetukah,
Rabbi Joe Blair
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Kaporet
Tuesday, September 26th, 2006There is a traditional ritual that is little practiced in this day and age. It is somewhat difficult to imagine, more so to identify with for modern sensibilities, especially those of us who get our foods at the grocery in nice, neat, pre-packaged, portion-controlled, shrink-wrapped plastic containers.
Imagine: you want to atone for your sins, and you want to enact some ritual that will embody that atonement, and help to purge you of the guilt of having sinned. That was the motive behind the ritual of kaporet (or kapores, in the Ashkenazic pronunciation). Kaporet is from the root that gives us the word ‘kippur’ as in Yom Kippur, the day of atonement.
This is an old ritual, and seems to me to partake of aspects of sympathetic magic, transference, ritual slaughter and offering sacrifices, blood as atonement, and even Tzedakah (righteous action).
In brief, one would take a chicken or a rooster, preferably white to symbolize purity, and conduct the ritual. In that ritual, a formulaic recitation would identify the chicken or rooster as taking the place of the sinner, who deserved to die for their sins, and the sinner would take on the ritual purity of the animal (sympathetic magic and transference). The animal would be swung by the legs over the head of the sinner, as a sign that the sinner was ‘covered’ by the animal (further transference), after which the animal was ritually slaughtered (offering) and the blood poured out on the ground to atone (sacrifice). The meat was then given as an offering for the poor (completion of the offering, demonstration of the purity of motive).Â
Pleasant? No.Â
Primitive? Yes.
Affecting? I think so.
Powerful? You bet.
I have to admit that I did witness and even take part (indirectly) in this ritual many years ago. I was a small boy.
I was taken to what must have been a local market area by my Grandfather, and there were people there performing this ritual, many of them dressed in the clothing of the very pious. Crates were all over, chickens were clucking, there were feathers flying – it was a scene of chaos to my mind – exciting and different, and a little scary. It seemed that dozens of men were swinging chickens over their heads, while dozens or hundreds more were gathered around. Of course, being a small child, it is likely that my memory is exagerrated, but it felt that way to me then, and that is how I recall it.
After a time, my grandfather bought a chicken from a man selling them from a crate. He held my hand and moved into the circle of men holding and swinging the chickens, and then he did the same. I was too small to do this, but I can tell you that it was deeply impressed on my memory.
To see my grandfather take this white chicken or rooster, hold it by the legs and slowly swing it in circles over his head while reciting the formulaic phrases, ‘this one’s purity for my sins, this one for me, this one’s life for mine’ then to hand the stunned and quiet bird over to the Shochet (ritual slaughterer) who was there, to be killed in an instant in the traditional fashion, is an image that has stayed with me. Once the bird was killed, the blood was drained out onto the ground as is required in Jewish practice. Then my grandfather took that dead chicken in his one hand and my hand in his other, and moved into a crowd of men standing there in a circle around the area where the ritual was being performed.
I don’t know how they knew to be there, but these were the poor of the community. These were the people who could not afford to buy a chicken, or to perform the ritual themselves: I suspect some of them were not even Jewish. My grandfather walked among them, looking carefully, and by some process I could not fathom, chose one, and approached him. He respectfully asked this man if he would do my grandfather the favor of accepting this chicken, and the man looked him in the eyes for a moment, then nodded and told Grandpa, “Yes, I will do this for you.” My grandfather smiled, gave the man the chicken, and warmly shook his hand. He then took out what looked to me to be an enourmous wad of bills from his pocket and gave it to the man. The man gravely accepted it, then turned and left. My grandfather smiled at me, took my hand, and led me away.
Every year when we come close to Yom Kippur, I remember this. Somehow, atonement and sacrifice, guilt and blood, sin and expiation, Tzedakah and forgiveness, action and prayer, love and death, are all tied together at this moment in the year for me. Yes, I would say that ritual is powerful and affecting. Â
Leshanah tovah umetukah,Â
Rabbi Joe Blair
The Cycle of the year
Wednesday, September 20th, 2006Perhaps you remember that song from a few years ago (okay, maybe more than a few)…. Some of the words that are flooding my mind at this point are:
“Like a circle slowly turning, like a spoke within a wheel…. …the images you find, in the windmills of your mind.”
I think that I associate that song with this time of year because of the ‘circles slowly turning’ image. In fact, though, it is not quite circles that I think about so much, but more the idea of spirals, and especially concentric spirals. I have come to picture the flow of time as following the surface of an imaginary cylinder. Time starts at one point on the cylinder (Creation?), and transits the entire circle that makes up the first level or layer of the cylinder, then rises one level when it comes back to the point of starting again, and continues. In this way, it makes a series of rising concentric circles spiraling up the cylinder from one end to the other.
If that picture is not clear (tto much like the horrors of geometry in high school!), think back to the grade school lesson you had on Thomas A. Edison, and the invention of the phonograph. In recording, he used wax cylinders, and the needle would move from end to end as the cylinder spun in a circle. You saw these cyiinders in all those film strips!
Another image even more people may remember is of a ‘Slinky’, the toy that ‘walked down stairs’. This was a toy, essentially a thin wire spring coiled flat and wound into a cylinder, but when you released it on a stair, it would ‘walk’ down by having the spirals shift to the lower step one after another, and then repeat, eventually going down an entire flight of stairs.
Whichever of these images is clearest for you, think about the layers or levels as each being a year. Every time you make the circuit and pass the starting point, you are bumped up a tiny bit and move into a new level – a new year.
Now the interesting point to me is that you are always making the SAME circle or circuit. It does not change. You pass by exactly the same points on the cylinder, just at a higher level. The shape of the circuit or the cylinder does not vary. This seems to me to be like our year, the cycle of the year. We start, pass each of the holidays that we observe at given distances around the cycle, and then wind up returning to our starting point to do it again. At the same time, each year is different – we are at a different level, and the things that happen along that circuit are unique to that year. So each circuit is unique, but all are also the same.
Moreover, there is another commanality: each year passes over the same events or holidays at the same point in the circuit. If we think of something like Creation, and use the theory of the ‘big bang’ as a means by which to took place, we can easily imagine that the vast release of energies that occurred at the moment of creation (the starting place on our circle) would begin to radiate out in all directions. I can imagine that those energies are what bump the spiral up a level each year at the point of passing the moment of creation. In this way, each year is connected to creation, and partakes in it to some degree. Creation is still ongoing and affecting us! If this is true, we might consider that the ‘energy’ of that event is also somehow accessible or apprehensible to us as we pass that point on the circuit.
That, to me, is a comforting thought. As we pass the point on the circuit that has such a burst of power and energy, we are energized. We revisit that event both in our path theough time, and in our passage through Torah! The cycle of Torah readings also follows this spiraling pattern. We come back each year to the same reading, to the same story, but we read it differently because we have changed and grown and experienced things in the intervening time. So the Torah is the same, but eternally changing as we interact with it.
Time and Torah are wound up together, somehow connected and intertwined. And we interact with both.
An interesting idea to ponder as we come rapidly to the start of the new year, 5767 in just a few days.
Shanah tovah umetukah – a good and sweet year to all of you.
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Rabbi Joe Blair
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Too Many Holidays?
Sunday, October 30th, 2005We have just concluded the celebration of almost a month of Jewish holidays.
Watching the children in the religious school this week, I noticed that they are overwhlemed with holidays.
To them it seems that we have a holiday every time we meet – talk about saturation and overdoing it!
I tested this feeling today, by asking the younger students to tell me what holiday we are celebrating now or what is coming next. There was a pregnant pause, then one of them ventured the guess, “Halloween?”. I said no, that is a holiday everyone can celebrate, but it is not a Jewish holiday.
Another long pause, then one of them said “Your birthday?” I smiled, and said no, that was a good guess, but it is not my birthday at this time of year.
After a short time, I told them they should understand that I had asked a trick question, and that the answer is ‘nothing’. They all looked stunned.
I continued, “we have had a lot of holidays, but they are over now for this year. But we do have a holiday that comes every week”. They are smart youngsters, and caught on – they all called out that it was Shabbat (the sabbath).
I then said there is a holiday for the beginning of each Hebrew calendar month, and asked if they knew the name of it. No one did, so I explained that it is called Rosh Chodesh (head of the month) and it is the day when the new month starts, the day when we can see the tiniest sliver of the new moon in the sky. They all knew about the moon getting bigger, until it was full, then getting smaller, so they could understand this idea, and i seemed to make sense to them.
Then I told them that other than Shabbat each week, and Rosh Chodesh at the start of the month, we have no Jewish holidays for a while. I asked if they could think of what the next holiday might be. They didn’t seem to know, until I offered the hint that on this holiday we have chocolate coins…. I never got to mention Dreidles (tops) or latkes (potato pancakes), because they knew right away what I was talking about. One of them exclaimed, “Chanukah! I know that! I LIKE that holiday!”.
I tell this not only because they were so cute, but to point out that we have a calender problem in Judaism. The reactions of the children exemplify it.
With the intensity of introspection in the month of Elul immediately followed by the concentration of holidays in the month of Tishrei, we are ALL subject to Holiday Fatigue Syndrome: a sense of exhaustion, irritation with celebration, and a wish to get it over with, already! Who can stand two months of this?
Not me, and not most of us, I suspect. At least, not if we see it as one long holiday and drive ourselves to the brink of sanity over it.
Instead, I suggest, we need to separate the components out, look at each one on its own, and give each its due.
Elul with its introspection in anticipation of the High Holy Days is not an active time, but it is somewhat draining emotionally, if we take it seriously. Perhaps we need to look at it not as a month of self-examiniation, but as thirty days on which we can take advantage of the season, for short periods, when we are able. I cannot sustain the same level of introspection over days and days, but I can take a day here, an hour there, and during the period of Elul, with breaks and downtime, make use of the time to conduct my cheshbon nefesh (accounting of the soul). I even suspect that I am more ready to undertake such an accounting, if I know that I can stop when it becomes too hard and return to it later.
Similarly, rather than seeing it as ten days at a peak for the yamim Nora’im (days of awe), I can set aside times during the period from Rosh Hashanah (new years day) to Yom Kippur (day of atonement) for my Teshuvah (repentance and penitential prayers). Again, concentrated moments spread out over the period are more likely than a continuous push for the whole time.
And when we begin Sukkot, the Feast of Booths, I can celebrate when I am in the Sukkah, so that it is a more time and space limited holiday, and in that way I can ameliorate the impact of a seven day celebration.
Finally, for Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah, I suggest that we have taken these with a bit of the wrong sense. I think we should view these days as more like the time after a family Simchah (joy): that time when the majority of the guests have left, we are almost done with the clean up, we have taken off our fancy dress, and the closest family and friends have stayed around to spend time together, and to relax in each other’s company. I think perhaps we should be looking at Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah in this light – our chance to wear more comfortable clothes and relax in company with G-d and each other – our closest friends and family.
Perhaps if we saw it in this light, and acted accordingly, the concentration of holidays wouldn’t feel so burdensome, but would be a joy and a means to relax and truly celebrate what matters.
So, do we have too many holidays? I would answer, No: we have just been trying to make each one a formal affair. If we can stop trying so hard, we might find we are having a good time and truly celebrating! And that would truly make it the season of our joy.
Rabbi Joe Blair