Archive for the ‘blogging’ Category

Facing Down Our Fears: Yom Kippur 5769 Sermon by Rabbi Joe Blair

Wednesday, December 10th, 2008

Yom 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!

 

 

 

Rabbi Sue Levi Elwell Yizkor 5769 Drash

Tuesday, October 21st, 2008

Yizkor

Yom Kippur

10 Tishrei 5769/9 October 2008

Temple Beth El

Harrisonburg, VA

Rabbi Sue Levi Elwell

 

 

I spoke this morning about Yom Kippur as a day of descent. For some, the destination of our descent is yizkor, this service of memory, of remembering. Just about every single one of us gathered in this sanctuary is here to intentionally remember—to bring to mind with a clarity that is facilitated by and on this day—to reassemble, in our mind’s eye, the stage on which we played with friends and beloveds, now gone. This day provides that state—it is up to us to recall the props, the staging, the lines and the cues. We address ourselves to this challenge as if—if we did it right, remembering the way the light glistened in her hair, the full laugh that so delighted—or embarrassed us—that ridiculous outfit, that keen sense of duty, that passionate involvement, that loving presence—if we could only remember it fully, we might bring our beloved back to us—for one last word, one final embrace, a request for forgiveness, a tear of regret, a burst of gratitude.

 

But we do not have that power. We have memory, yes, but not the power to bring back the days when our loved ones sat beside us, nudging, loving, cajoling, spoiling us, celebrating life with us.

 

So today we look for ways to honor the memory of those who enriched our lives with their presence. Now that they are gone, it is up to us to carry out their precious legacies. While we Jews often name our children after those who have passed away, how often are we equally intentional about picking up their dreams—and taking concrete, deliberate steps towards fulfilling hopes those we loved were not able to realize. Sometimes we fulfill the dreams of our beloveds simply by living full, purposeful lives. We know for whom we were the life project. Other times, it is easy—and joyful—to help realize their commitments, for we share the values that shaped them, and that shaped us. Sometimes, although we love them and miss them, the legacies of our beloveds are complicated and even challenging to our beliefs. Perhaps today will open a window to enable us to reconsider this legacy—and work towards transforming it—in memory of a beloved who loved to eat—or cook—we could work to end hunger, locally or beyond geographical boundaries. To honor the memory of one who was unable to show love, perhaps our involvement in or support of an organization that provides loving homes—for discarded people or abandoned animals—perhaps such work would work to heal our own deep sense of loss.

 

It is up to us to create living memorials to those we loved—to extend the influence of their goodness, their kindness, their passions—beyond the grave. And, if we can, to work towards repairing their broken dreams, by creating opportunities for others—in their name.

 

So on this day of memory, may we enters the doors of yizkor honoring that memory is a complex and challenging exercise. And that finally, each of us is enriched beyond measure because for some time we were privileged to share this world with each of those who is now gone.

 

Ashreinu. How blessed are we, for their lives, for their gifts, their passions, their joys.

May we be worthy guarantors of their memory.

Yom Kippur 5769 Sermon by Rabbi Sue Levi Elwell

Friday, October 17th, 2008

 

Shir HaMa’a lot: A Song of Ascents

Temple House of Israel, Staunton, VA

Temple Beth El, Harrisonburg, VA

10 Tishrei 5769/8&9 October 2008

Rabbi Sue Levi Elwell

 

 

During one of my first visits to the Shenandoah Valley, Nurit and I visited one of the caverns. I later discovered that I was following a family tradition—my grandparents included a visit to a Shenandoah Valley cavern on their honeymoon in 1916! I will never forget my first descent into the unexpectedly beautiful world below the surface of the earth. I kept wondering about the first individuals to “discover” these formations. Once they kindled light to illuminate the beauty around them, did they think that they had descended into a kind of heaven, and that the myths of a hot and smoldering ugly netherworld had simply been wrong? Were they dazzled, as were we, by what they saw? What did they think of the even temperature and the cool water that glides down the walls and creates sparkling, shimmering pools on the floor?

 

My first visit was followed by another. Even if I visited every year that I am blessed to be with you here, I will never take for granted the magnificent power of the stalactites and stalagmites that form curtains and columns and vistas of natural beauty that delight and amaze so many visitors every year. We who visit this magical world below are afforded a glimpse into the formation of the earth hundreds of millions of years ago, vistas that take our breath away.

 

The cavern provides a powerful metaphor for us as we enter into this solemn and challenging day of Yom Kippur.

 

This is a day of mystery and wonder. On this day, we are encouraged to enter a place that is both familiar and unfamiliar. When you, fortunate residents of this area, approach any of the caverns, the terrain is familiar and welcoming. And then you descend below the surface of the earth, and, perhaps like me, are amazed anew. So it is with this day. We enter this familiar sanctuary, and greet friends, family, and acquaintances. We welcome newcomers who are grateful to have found a community with whom to observe this Day of Awe. And then we open the machzor, the High Holiday prayerbook, and we are ushered into the liturgy of this uniquely solemn day. And as Yom Kippur progresses, we descend deeper and deeper into the cavern of our souls.

 

The metaphor of descent mirrors the journey of the ancient High Priest into the Holy of Holies on this day. This is how Rabbi Jill Hammer describes the Yom Kippur ritual:

 

Nothing could be more mysterious than the image of the high priest entering the holiest chamber of the Temple on Yom Kippur. As the high priest utters the secret name of the Divine within a cloud of incense, it is as if he planted the sacred word like a seed, creating the cosmos anew. Emerging from the shrine, the high priest renews the land and inspires the people to awe and repentance.

 

She continues,

 

On Yom Kippur, many Jews fast and pray the whole day. The words of the Yom Kippur prayers are like the winding journey of the high priest toward the Holy of Holies. Each prayer takes us a little closer to the innermost depths of ourselves. On this day, we are all high priests meeting the Divine in privacy and intimacy. Surrounded by clouds of song and petition, we are able to look into our hearts more deeply than on any other day of the year.[1]

 

We enter into this day, this day that is the Holy of Holies, as if we were entering one of the nearby caverns. Some of us are unsure about whether or not to enter this day of descent. We’re here because of someone else’s idea of what Judaism asks—or demands—of us. We entered this synagogue tonight as a tourist enters a renowned  cathedral, with curiosity and respect, but without commitment. But Yom Kippur is not like any other day in our calendar. This is the Day of Awe, the day when individuals become community by collectively opening our hearts. So you who are hesitating—take the hand of the one beside you. You who hold back, catch the reassuring glance and the outstretched arm of your neighbor. For centuries, Jews have taken the risk of journeying into the dark on this day. Together, we muster the courage to step into the unknown of this Sabbath of Sabbaths, this Day of Judgment.

 

How well prepared are we for this journey? Do we carry sources of illumination with us? Like early cave explorers, we may carry only candles, which are easily extinguished. Once they’re out, we may find that our matches have become soggy and unusable. How will we make our way in the dark? We move closer together to reassure ourselves that we are not alone.

 

The air thins, and we find ourselves gasping for breath. But as the seconds become minutes, our breath returns and oxygen courses through our veins and arteries without our willing it. We’re surprised by a wave of calm that follows the panic. We realize that our eyes are slowing becoming accustomed to the lack of light. We’re not going to perish here.

 

A descent into darkness need not be a one way journey. Rather, this awesome day welcomes us to name the difficult, challenging, painful, narrow passages in our lives, to acknowledge the fears that stop our hearts. By providing particular words, and music, and silence, this day guides us through our descent into awe. After some time, our eyes become accustomed to the darkness, and we begin to step slowly, and deliberately, through the deep.

 

And as our sight seems to return to us, now sharper than it was, so do we find ourselves better able to hear in this distinct place. We hear the soft breathing of the others who entered this place with us. On this day, we are not alone in our fear, in our awe.

 

When fear begins to subside, awe begins. Once our eyes become accustomed to the dancing glints of light, we realize that we have descended into a place of profound and overwhelming beauty. No matter how many times we go into the caverns, we are delighted anew by the whimsical and fantastic natural formations. So can each descent into this day bring new insight. Whether we’re here reluctantly or intentionally, Yom Kippur helps us move from fear to awe.

 

But when we turn from fear to awe we do not banish fear. Rather, we name it. By descending into the dark we acknowledge our limitations, our fallibility, our humanness. In the quiet of this altered space, we feel our smallness, our insignificance, our frailty. And in this place of awe, we face the supernal beauty of creation. In the luminous presence of the Creator, we may see only our flaws.

 

We call out: Avinu Malkenu: our Father, our King. Our petition is communal. Avinu malkenu, honenu v’anenu. As a collective, in a single voice, we call out, and we ask God to answer us. We are frightened because we have fallen, we have missed the mark. Hurtful words have spilled out of our mouths. We have inflicted harm on others and on ourselves. We have failed to speak the truth, to work for peace, to care for those in need. Yet as we turn to the Holy One in this deep place, we turn together. We do not say, “ashamti, bagadati, gazalti, I have been “arrogant, brutal, careless,” but ashamnu, bagadnu, gazalnu,” we have stumbled and fallen, “our sins are an alphabet of woe.”[2]

 

For even as we arrive at these days, at this place, with our hands full of the deeds– and the misdeeds of the past year, we also arrive having sought—and granted—forgiveness to one another. Our liturgy reminds us, “For transgressions against God, the Day of Atonement atones; but for transgressions of one human being against another, the Day of Atonement does not atone until they have made peace with one another.”[3] As we all know, building and maintaining families, communities, or congregations, is difficult and demanding work. Because we are human, we hurt one another—usually unintentionally, but not always. Healing community is holy work. That is the work that precedes this day. Sometimes, it happens on this day. As we hear ourselves intone these words, “Ashamnu, bagadnu, gazalnu,” we realize that we are all fallible. We all fall down. We all disappoint ourselves and others. The very process of repeating these words as a collective can be healing. We can begin to forgive ourselves—and one another.

 

As we stand in the darkness of this day, and as one, cry out to our Creator, “Avinu Malkenu, be gracious and answer us,” we find the Source of Compassion waiting for us. On this day, we are not exiled, or banished. We are forgiven. We are embraced. And we now see that God’s light illuminates not only our failings but also our fortitude, not only our stumbling but also our shining spirits.

 

Again and again throughout our lives, we descend into the depths. This day tells us that no matter how terrifying the darkness, on this day or on any day, we are never alone there. The Holy One is waiting for us there. On this day, we call to God El Rachum v’Hanun, God of mercy and lovingkindness, erech apaim vrav hesed v’emet—endlessly patient, loving and true. We who take the risk of truly entering into this day are rewarded by discovering the Source of Compassion who acknowledges our fears and welcomes our tears. When we descend we are embraced by a Source of Kindness who invites us to see our own strength.  God waits for us not only on this day, but whenever we enter the cavern of darkness that is always just below the surface of our lives. Today we learn that darkness need not be a place of despair.

The ancient psalmist asks:

“Lord, whither can I go from your spirit?… If I ascend to the heavens, You are there! If I make my home in the lowest depths, behold, You are there!”[4]

 

God is waiting for us, not only today, but every day of our lives.

 

And the community is waiting for us as well. Jews survive when we lift up the fallen. At some time or other, all of us fall. Just as God meets each of us in the depths, so does God inspire and empower the community to extend hands and hearts when we are in need.    

 

Psalm 126 is familiar to many of us. It is one of fifteen psalms that begins, “Shir HaMa’alot: a song of ascents,” and is sung on each Shabbat and festival at the beginning of Birkat haMazon, the blessing after meals. The final verse of this five-verse psalm begins with four powerful words: “Ha’zorim b’dimah b’rinah ikzaru: Those who sow in tears shall reap in joy.” The plural form reflects the universality of human experience. For those who live on the land, planting, sowing seeds, is an essential step towards providing sustenance for both family and community. Sowing, then, serves as a symbolic action for all work in the world. Like all of creation, plants and animals, fish and fowl, we human beings live and then die. We mourn in a particularly human way, with wailing, with silence, with tears and with words. And while we often take time away from our daily pursuits after a loved one dies, we must soon return to the work that sustains us and our loved ones. Our tears mix with our sweat and with the dew that enables young plants to mature into grain, into vegetables, into fruit. And as days and months pass, we move, slowly, haltingly, away from immediacy of grief. When seasons change and the time of harvest comes, we discover that darkness has become light, and that mourning has turned to dancing. Those who sow in tears reap in joy.

 

The ascent from the depths of this day of repentance may be arduous for some. The ascent from the depth of loss may seem nearly impossible for many. We may want to stay in the darkness, not sure how we will manage in the light. But this day, which is finally, a day of joy, calls to us. Make the journey. You will find that darkness is rich and fruitful, a place of awe and beauty. Come down, and then come up. And in the ascent, you may discover that your heart is unburdened and that your mind is clear. And that you can face the new year with a new-found sense of joy and perhaps even hope.

 

Remember the High Priest and his ancient journey into the Holy of Holies? Rabbi Jill Hammer teaches,

 

“The high priest does not overly prolong his prayer so as not to worry those who wait for him. We too do not prolong our prayers more than necessary. We finish the service at the moment of [sunset], and emerge from the fast into our daily lives.”[5]

 

When the sun sinks below the horizon, we conclude our Yom Kippur prayers and kindle the havdalah candle. We return from the depths, and from our individual encounters with our Source. And we discover that those who accompany our descent have become essential companions as we reclaim the light. We ascend from silence and open our mouths with song. After a day of petition and prayer, we have exchanged fear for awe, and despair for joy.

 

So let us go forth, each one of us, into this Yom Kippur day and into this new year, with a new appreciation for the power of the deep. May we enter this day and this new year with strength to face the darkness that awaits us all, and with the confidence that our faith—and our community—can illuminate unexpected paths to beauty and to joy.  

 



[1] Jill Hammer, The Jewish Book of Days (Philadelphia: JPS, 2006), 38.

[2] Translations from The Gates of Repentance (NY: CCAR Press, 1978), 327

[3] Ibid., p. 251.

[4] Psalm 139, ibid., p. 296

[5] Hammer, idem.

Jews & that ‘other’ holiday

Monday, December 24th, 2007

It 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, 2007

New Initiatives:I am hoping that we can establish more adult education activities in a broader variety of topics. As an example of these, think of the programs on Security in Israel and the Jewish View on the Body & Energy programs that we held last fall. Think also of the Holocaust Education Programs as another example.  These are separate from and in addition to any rabbinic educational offerings I have or may offer. I want to encourage more participation in services by congregants, and am encouraging Sarah Grove-Humphries to conduct some song sessions to teach words and music to things old and new that we can sing during services. The goal is to add to the repertoire of the congregation, leading to the institution of a Shabbat Shirah (Sabbath of Song). In the longer term, this could be the nucleus of a singing group within the congregation that might assist with services periodically or perform in other venues. To support the goal of more participation by congregants in our services, I will continue to offer Torah and Haftarah reading support, adult B’nai Mitzvah training, and Gabbai training sessions. I am also considering offering a Shaliach Tzibur training on how to be a service leader, and a session on writing Divrei Torah (a sermon, homily, or Devar Torah). I am thinking of holding a few ‘healing services’ in the course of the year if there is interest.  I also want to float to the congregation at this point the idea of trying to create a Shabbat Chavurah, where perhaps as often as once a month, we would hold a Shabbat morning program for all interested members, including families and singles, people of all ages, all getting together for a brief Shabbat morning service, and after the service, offering some child friendly Jewish themed activity at the same time as a program aimed at adults; for both programs the themes of each would be coordinated so everyone would be focusing on the same thing, at whatever level they could. We would then have a pot luck lunch to follow, at which all could get together and talk about the theme as a community of learners including all ages, while eating. Perhaps this could also be a program that includes members from both congregations, and alternates location. I am delighted that Lyrissa will offer a concert at THOI in February. I would love to see an expansion of the idea of presenting performances at the congregation, including both Jewish events, and other things of general interest. Our facility has excellent acoustics and is a beautiful setting for many kinds of presentations.  All of these ideas are broadly connected to the concept of making the synagogue truly a communal center, as well as a Jewish house of gathering, learning, and worship. The old saying is true: Ein chadash tachat hashemesh (there is nothing new under the sun). J  ConclusionThis is a rough idea of what I have been working on in the last year, and what I plan to work towards in the coming year. I will be glad to respond to questions.   Respectfully submitted, Rabbi Joe BlairDecember 2nd, 2007    

What does your rabbi do? Part 8

Monday, December 24th, 2007

Outreach/Inreach:Chaplain:I have been called by RMH and AMC to serve as ‘chaplain’ to unaffiliated Jews on a few occasions, and when possible I have done so. I have tried to convey to the hospital’s staffs that I will try to come when possible, but there is no assurance that I, as a member of the clergy and representing the Jewish community in our area, will always be able or willing to come when called.  Contacts from Jewish non-members: I have continued to be welcoming and invited them to observe and attend. It is my sense, and I remain hopeful, that if they feel comfortable with our community they will join. We have had some success this year in membership growth (more on that from our VP of Membership, I hope). Whenever I had contact with a potential new member I have passed that information on for follow up. Shenandoah Valley Holocaust Education Project: Recently, as one of the founders of the group establishing the Shenandoah Valley Holocaust Education Project, I worked to bring another performance/presentation to our community. This was the play presenting Corrie Ten Boom Live, by Evelyn Hinds. This is the first program of the year. Our major focus will be a series of events spread around the area in early March. We are looking at additional and different types of programs. I am very excited to tell you that Norman Weinberg has agreed to come and speak at THOI on March 9th, 2008. He is an exciting, dynamic and fascinating speaker, and he will tell us about the Cemetery Recovery Project he is involved with leading.  In the days around that event, there will likely be a performance of a play (based on the book Number the Stars, by Lois Lowry, dramatized by Kelly Brock), a dramatic reading of monologues from actual survivors (written by Kelly Brock), a visit by a survivor (or more than one), and possibly other programs, all at different venues in Waynesboro, Staunton, and Harrisonburg. There are also other very exciting possibilities that may come to fruition. I have great hope that this will be an ongoing event over many years, bringing in different people, speakers, programs, and events.  The THOI Staunton Jewish Film Festival (SJFF):I have been in contact with a few people, seeking sponsors, and have been working with Laurie and the committee to make this a success. We are planning it for April 11-17th, 2008. At this point, it looks excellent. We have arranged for the use of the Visulite theater, and our festival can consist of up to seven films during the weekend (Friday to Sunday), with repeated showings over the course of a week. This is very exciting. Now we have to jump in and make it happen. My vision for this project is that it can become an annual event, and grow to be a major draw for THOI, Staunton, and the Valley. We need to start ‘small’ and grow it organically, but the potential is definitely there.   Social & Communal Events:We have had a successful start to the THOI Welcome Committee, holding a lovely New Member Welcome Brunch, which I happily attended, and I am looking forward to more such events.Next week, we have scheduled a Mitzvah Day and Pot Luck on December 9th at 2 to 5. Bring your favorite food, and join us in maintaining our building through tasks ranging from cleaning and straightening inside to clearing leaves from the roof. On the books next after that is a new initiative which I suggested we try; a Game Day Social on the 25th of December, when everything else is pretty much closed. This is intended as a social event, with everyone bringing ‘pot luck’ hors d’oeuvres and whatever games they like to play to the synagogue to get together and have a relaxed afternoon (from 2-6) when not much else is going on.  Israel Trip:One of the highlights this year for the ten congregants (three from Beth El and seven from THOI) who participated (along with me), was the trip to Israel. Even now, in fact this weekend at Shabbat services at Beth El, six of those who participated sat at the Oneg and looked at pictures, reliving the trip, telling stories  and laughing, for almost an hour and a half after the service. More than once in that conversation the question was asked about ‘when can we go back?’ Leading the trip was, for me, a very significant effort, quite exhausting, but given the responses, extremely rewarding, and definitely worthwhile both on a personal level, and for the long-term benefits that have flowed to both congregations from it. I don’t believe that we have the numbers to try to do an annual trip to Israel, but perhaps we should be looking ahead and planning another trip so people can plan and prepare themselves with plenty of time in advance. Similarly, perhaps we should also begin to plan some lesser congregational trips in years we don’t have an Israel trip: a long weekend in ‘Jewish New York’ for example. The costs for such a venture would not be prohibitive for most of our congregants, and with a shorter time away more congregants might be encouraged to participate. I would love to see this possibility explored for feasibility in both congregations.   Cont’d.  

What does your rabbi do? Part 7

Monday, December 24th, 2007

The Religious School:This year the religious school has twenty-one students. I am teaching the Daled class (6th and 7th grades) consisting of three students, all in the 6th grade.  I am also the sole tutor for the B’nai Mitzvah students, meeting quite intensively with them over the course of the year prior to their celebration. This is a very time-consuming, and labor intensive effort, consuming at least one hour for each student with whom I meet in a given week. With a small class, such as this year’s Daled group, it is not too overwhelming, but looking ahead to a year with eight or nine students preparing for B’nai Mitzvah (as is a possibility for the current Alef class), this would be a very significant commitment of time and effort. It may be worthwhile for the congregations to consider the use of individual and/or private tutors for the bulk of the preparation in such a situation.  The religious school had a Family Education day recently (November 18th). The topic was Ellis Island and the immigration experience. It was very well received, and I was happy with the results. I believe these family education events are valuable additions to the curriculum.  In the last several years, to better meet the stated goals for the religious school, I have urged the implementation of the Chai and Mitkadem curricula in our religious school. These curricula have proven to be very successful so far when used and followed. These curricula have helped to focus the classes, organize and integrate the levels, and give the teachers a strong and well-designed resource in their planning and preparation. These materials do not assist, however, if the students don’t or won’t do the work assigned – no materials, and no instructor, would. The final responsibility rests on the student, and to some degree, on the family of the student (who is, after all, a minor). Given that religious school is only three hours once a week (less than an hour for Hebrew and approximately another hour for Judaica), it is not reasonable to expect that a student can be taught enough there to be a competent, educated, literate Jewish person, prepared to be a Jewish adult, even after the maximum of seven years of thirty class sessions each year. That goal is more properly met by training and practice in the home, supplemented by regular attendance at services and in religious school. The question has been raised (again – this is probably a perennial issue) as to the purpose and value of religious school. Though I am clearly in favor of and support a maximal approach to religious school, and see it as training and preparation for life as a Jewish adult, I know not everyone shares my viewpoint. I am not intending to impose my vision on the community in this matter: I would much prefer an open, civil, and reasoned discussion of the philosophy and ideology for the religious school to occur periodically, leading to implementing a program that more accurately reflects the values and ideals of the community, than to have unspoken concerns and dissatisfactions harbored within our community, leading to resentments, disaffection, and choices and actions that undercut whatever program has been put in place. This discussion must necessarily also focus on the policies and procedures for the religious school, and how religious school is connected to the celebration of a B’nai Mitzvah in the congregations. If the congregation does not believe that the approach taken as of today fits the goals it wishes to set as a community for its’ religious school, the entire religious school enterprise should be re-examined and re-evaluated in light of whatever the actual goals may be, the policies and procedures should be modified to reflect those goals, and the allocation of resources to the religious school (including the appropriate use of my time and that of the other teachers), should be discussed and given serious consideration, with an eye towards supporting the goals established. Cont’d. 

What does your rabbi do? Part 6

Monday, December 24th, 2007

Youth Activities:Working with Sherri Alt, I have been continued to be involved in Shorty, the Youth Group, specifically focusing on the Confirmation program (for those who are post-B’nai Mitzvah). Shorty is intended to serve those from age 13 (post-seventh grade) to 18. The program was well accepted in past. We now have more than a ten active members. Given the demographics of our community, this is an excellent representation.  Funding seems to me a significant issue – these NFTY events, camp, and Israel trips are extremely expensive, and most families’ budgets will not support sending their children to many of these events. Camp and Israel are wonderful and meaningful experiences for most youth, but the costs are as high or higher than tuition at many private schools. My sense is, and all statistics show, that they are worth the cost, but many of our members cannot afford to send their children often, or, to the most expensive of these, at all. We will need to find a way to make sure that we can assist or cover costs for our members’ children to attend. This is an investment in the future. The THOI SHORTY Fundraising dinner and Youth Group Service at THOI is scheduled for January 11th. It is one of the less painful ways we help to fund the operation of Shorty. I hope all of our congregants will come, or at least consider sending a donation to Shorty.  One change for this year that I am happy to have proposed at the joint calendar meeting last June (to which that group agreed, and later the board of each congregation subsequently adopted as part of the calendar), was that I should attend at least one of the NFTY Kallot (Reform Youth organization gatherings) our members attend with them, and also try to arrange to travel with our group to participate in at least one of their activities on the road. Consequently, I plan to join them for the Spring kallah this year in April of 2008, and I also plan to go with them to Williamsburg overnight at the beginning of June for their year-end activity. Of course, I plan to attend their meetings and local activities (IY”H, bli neder*).  [*roughly translated, with G-d’s help, but I offer no promises or vows]. J  Adult Education:In Adult Education, I offered two levels of Hebrew literacy (introduction for those needing to learn the Alefbet, and intermediate to practice reading and to gain vocabulary), a weekly Parashat Hashavuah (Torah Portion) study session, and a Jewish Lecture and Discussion series, which included such topics as the role of the Chevrah Kadishah, various Holidays, topics in basic Judaism, basic Jewish History, and some dabbling with the Talmud. I brought in as lecturers two congregants on the topics of security in Israel, and a Jewish view on energy and healing. I have moved from the Parashat Hashavuah model to a monthly Torah Lishmah structure. This is still a work in progress, and there may be more changes as time goes on. The goal is to find the interest level of our congregants, and the best approach to meet that interest.   I continue to actively work with several conversion candidates (at last count, I was meeting with six fairly regularly), and have a few more persons who have approached me with this intent, but whom I have not yet accepted as conversion candidates. I am working with our cadre of Torah and Haftarah readers, and meet regularly with some of them to practice and improve their skill set in that arena. I have two adult B’nai Mitzvah students with whom I am working regularly at this time. I am in the midst of teaching the 20 session Introduction to Judaism course. We started with 13, and after five sessions there are 11 students in that class, a record number in my experience here. Of those eleven, I anticipate that probably five are likely to become members of one or the other of the congregations after their process is completed (over the next two years). Several others will likely leave the area, either before completing the training, or shortly afterwards.  I have guest lectured or given presentations at MBC, EMU, JMU, Bridgewater College, and Stuart Hall, for a variety of courses, and for several Rotary Clubs and Church groups. I met with the JMU Hillel students on several occasions. I am teaching a class in Hebrew Scriptures at Mary Baldwin College as an adjunct instructor since the regular instructor resigned at the beginning of this academic year. I am serving as a mentor for a student in the Quest program at MBC. I have met with and advised JMU students on a number of occasions, and supported the JMU chapter of AEPi and Hillel as I am able.   Cont’d. 

What does your rabbi do? Part 5

Monday, December 24th, 2007

College Students:I have spoken by telephone or met with students from various schools, including MBC, EMU, JMU, Bridgewater, BRCC, and W&L, most of whom are in one Religion or religious studies class or another that requires them to attend a service and/or interview a person of a faith not their own. Many of them have come to our services, if not to the Community Awareness Shabbat (which is generally too late to meet the requirements for their semester schedules).  Non-Jewish community members: I have made presentations to several churches and civic organizations and at various colleges and other schools, and been contacted numerous times, sometimes with questions, sometimes to ask for a speaker, or to attend services to observe. In that light, our Fall Community Awareness Shabbat was very well attended, with roughly 130 people present.  Peace Festival:I have been asked to work on a Peace Festival to take place on Sunday, January 13th at 2-5 at Otterbein United Methodist Church in Harrisonburg. I am happy to tell you that Sarah Grove-Humphries has also agreed to help me with this project. The planning group includes representatives from several churches, the  mosque in Harrisonburg, some Kurdish families, FINISH UP HERE Training:I attended professional training sessions and conferences put on by the CCAR and the MAC.  I will also be attending the URJ Biennial later this month. In coming months, I will attend the CCAR Convention, the CCAR MAC regional conference, and probably two other rabbinic training and professional development programs. I hope to apply as a candidate for one of the available programs, either at the Institute for Jewish Spirituality (IJS), or at the Synagogues: Transformation and Renewal (STAR) Good to Great Rabbi or the Peer Executive Leadership program. These programs each require attending two workshops/retreats each year for one or two years, studying, taking on-line courses, working with mentors and peers, and generally improving skills and focusing on being more effective as a rabbi.  Tzedakah, Gemilut Chasidim, Tikkun Olam:I have continued to make disbursements and contributions to various groups and organizations I believe are worthy from the Rabbi’s Discretionary fund. When an acknowledgement is sent, I have passed it on so that there is some way of others knowing what is being done with the monies that are donated to the Discretionary fund while maintaining the maximum confidentiality when appropriate. All disbursements are reviewed with an individual who maintains confidentiality in order that there be accountability for my choices and to assure that I don’t run afoul of the IRS rules in dealing with this fund. In the last two years, I have encouraged our youth group to volunteer to work at the Volunteer Farm, an organization in Woodstock that uses donations and volunteer labor to plant, raise, harvest, and deliver fresh food to the Blue Ridge Area Food Bank. I hope that this will become a regular activity for the youth group, and perhaps for other members of the congregation as well.  Cont’d. 

What does your rabbi do? Part 4

Monday, December 24th, 2007

Pastoral Care:I meet with numerous congregants privately to discuss concerns or issues in their lives, ranging over issues of personal matters, finances, health concerns, relationships, and issues of faith, loss, personal stress, relationships, employment, child rearing, marital issues, communal concerns, and interfaith issues. I am extremely careful and seek to maintain the confidentiality of what I am privileged to hear and learn. In short, I have provided pastoral counseling as needed, when asked (and occasionally when I see a need I will offer), to the limit of my ability and training. I have referred congregants to experts for those things beyond my skills and knowledge as I recognize that to be the case.  The call for this seems to be steady through the year, and increasing periodically for a period of time. This has proven to be a frequently requested service, and a significant focus in my rabbinate. Related to this area, I was delighted to work with congregants from both congregations to initiate the Chevrah Kadishah (holy society) group this year. This group now exists, and stands prepared to work with the funeral directors in the area to provide the service of Taharah (ritual washing and dressing of the deceased). If possible, we may at some point choose to expand to also provide the service of Shmirat Haguf (watching or guarding the body), as well as Leviyat Hametim (accompanying the deceased). These services are a deeply meaningful and important gift that can be offered to those who have passed on and their families by our community. More work and preparation needs to be done for this group to be fully trained, for the instruction books to be completed, and to determine what and how and under which conditions we can take on these various responsibilities, but our community is fortunate to have people who wish to fulfill this mitzvah (obligation) on our behalf.   Interfaith:IFA:I continue as a member of the Harrisonburg Interfaith Association, though I have been prevented from attending the last several of the monthly meetings by scheduling conflicts.   I have been working to build up my network of members of the clergy in Staunton and Augusta County. I am doing so by working with groups such as the Community Health Forum and Augusta Medical Center, where I can meet these persons, and build connections and rapport, so we can work together on specific projects at some point in the future. This is part of how I am establishing contacts for the Shorty youth group to follow up, and creating avenues to invite our larger community members to join us for such events as the Community Awareness Shabbat and Holocaust Education programs. I think that the turnout for the last Community Awareness Shabbat would lead to the conclusion that this approach is worth pursuing.  Interfaith Dialogue:I conducted an abbreviated version of the Open Doors, Open Minds program from URJ. I engaged the pastor and members from the Otterbein United Methodist Church, and a like number of congregants from both THOI and Beth El, gave presentations from the curriculum developed by URJ, showed the prepared videos, and facilitated the discussions. I felt that it was a dynamic, exciting, interesting, informative, and provocative dialogue. I think that all who attended felt it was a useful and informative experience, and very much worth the energy and effort expended. The group participating wanted to continue to meet after the scheduled sessions were concluded. This seems to be a program that would be worth repeating in future with another religious institution as our partner.  Cont’d. 

What does your rabbi do? Part 3

Monday, December 24th, 2007

Services: I have conducted a wide variety of religious services in the course of the year. In addition to regular Shabbat evening (Friday) services, we have had (or will have,  again, in the order following the Jewish calendar): a Tisha Be’Av commemoration; a Selichot service and program before High Holidays; several Shabbat morning services; B’nai Mitzvah services; Yizkor services; a Tashlich service; a                                                                                                        a                      Consecration service; two Community Awareness Shabbat services; our Chanukah service, Purim, Pesach, Shavuot, Sukkot, Simchat Torah, Yom HaShoah, and Yom Ha’atzma’ut/Yom Hazikaron holiday/commemoration services; as well as Religious School, Confirmation, and Youth Group services.  We conducted a lovely Tu Bi’Shevat Seder and a very successful Pesach/Passover Seder. In the course of the year, I have conducted several weddings and a few baby namings/britot milah, as well as several funerals and/or memorial services, and unveilings.  An experiment in this category that I would like to try in the coming year is to hold a few ‘healing services’ to gauge interest and need. In February we will hold a song session where we will learn and practice some of the songs, old and new, for our services. I hope that this will prove popular, and that we can begin to encourage more of our congregants to learn and join in singing.  Bikkur Cholim: I have tried to make myself available in person or by phone to all who were hospitalized, home-bound, or otherwise might appreciate contact. This has included visiting congregants in RMH, AMC, UVA, several care facilities, and at individual’s homes. Most often, I do this by staying in touch by telephone and/or email due to other calls on my time.  I have also supported the formation of the Caring Committee to assist in this function, and that has worked well (many thanks to the members and all those supporting and assisting them).  Cont’d. 

What does your rabbi do? Part 2

Monday, December 24th, 2007

 Ongoing Activities & TasksIn functioning as your rabbi, I perform many duties, and fill many roles in the course of a week, ranging from the more rabbinic types of leading services and providing pastoral counseling, to the more prosaic actions of picking up the mail, answering the phone, giving tours to visitors, scheduling Torah readers, and locking up after most services. I try to do what is needed to keep the congregation running smoothly and well, and seek to serve the needs of all our congregants, the Jewish community, and the larger community in which we live. Some of what I do each week can be classified variously as pastoral, rabbinic, executive, administrative, clerical, janitorial, and spiritual functions. Some small part cannot really be categorized and seems hard to define or describe, and another small part is confidential and cannot be discussed widely.  Here is a list of a few of my regular, ongoing tasks:  General:Oral and written reports: I have generated bulletin articles each month, submitted a monthly report for inclusion in the minutes of each of the board meetings, and sporadically added items to the THOI Blog (www.thoi.org/blog/). Obviously, I also produce an annual report to the congregation. J   Meetings:I attend Board meetings and participate as a non-voting member.I meet with Board members, as requested, on a fairly regular basis. I meet with and serve on several committees as a non-voting member. I have served to advise the Board according to my understanding, and to generate some documents at their request when needed. I meet with congregants, generally as requested. I meet with others, Jewish and non-Jewish, as my schedule permits.  Serving as the Public Face for Judaism and the Congregation:I serve as the point of contact for the congregation, taking phone calls, receiving emails, greeting visitors, making presentations, and responding to questions from the general community. I have also been the public face of the congregation, dealing with journalists, other clergy, schools, churches, college students, and many others wishing to have someone in the Jewish community with whom to speak. The number of requests for this has risen each year I have been here. I anticipate that the trend will continue. There seems to be an insatiable curiosity about Jews and Judaism in our region. I suspect that I also embody Judaism for many of the non-Jewish community members: by wearing a kippah, I am a visible reminder that there are Jews here in our area. I think that is a reminder to many, without a word being spoken.  Cont’d. 

What does your rabbi do? Part 1

Monday, December 24th, 2007

I 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 YearThis was my fourth full year with the congregation (I am at this point half-way through my fifth year, the final year of my second contract period with the two congregations). I have learned a great deal over that time, and have found some things that led me to function more effectively in my role, and a few that were not successful and which I will not choose to continue in future. In many ways this has been not only a learning process, but an opportunity for me to grow and mature as a rabbi. I am grateful to the members of the two congregations for their generosity of spirit in allowing me to continue to learn and to grow as I seek to serve you.  I have to tell you that from my perspective this year has flown by. This has been another year of much activity and many firsts: highly productive and very busy. I would like to very briefly recap the significant highlights of what has taken place during the past year, and offer a taste of a little of what is planned for the coming year.  This has been a very rich, rewarding, and meaningful period for me, in serving as your rabbi. First, let me say how much I have enjoyed seeing our community take on more vibrancy and activity. I am pleased to be part of a Jewish group and a Jewish community that is flowering before our very eyes. We have made a quantum leap from a sleepy, small, fading congregation to a dynamic, active, energetic, and enthusiastic community. You will hear at this meeting that our numbers are up, and our finances are much improved. We have welcomed new members and held close our long-time members. We have re-established old connections, and forged new ties between our members. We have renewed old traditions, and added new ones. We have improved our physical building, and expanded our spiritual home. We have sought to imbue our worship and our activities with ruach (spirit), meaning, and spirituality. We have been willing to experiment a bit, to try new things to see how they feel, and to also retain those things that we feel are important and help define us. We have worked to be more inclusive and welcoming. And all of this has paid off – look around and see!  I commend all of you – it is YOUR doing – and it is YOUR congregation. I hope you will keep up the good work, build on what has been accomplished, and continue to go from strength to strength.  Cont’d. 

Sermon: Yom Kippur – Chance Encounters

Thursday, October 18th, 2007

Yom 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

Mexico. Castaneda was ostensibly an anthropologist or sociologist, and intended to study the culture of Don Juan. In fact, what we discover through the various books is that Don Juan was waiting for Castaneda, and in fact lured and then captured him as a student. Castaneda thought he was meeting this old man by chance, but Don Juan knew that this was the arrangement he had been seeking. In a number of the encounters described, Don Juan described to Castaneda how life presents us with opportunities, saying that each opportunity is a chance that pops out in front of us, and each chance presents us with a choice about what to do. The secret, he teaches, is to be alert, aware, trained, and prepared to make a choice, and to seize the chance presented. He calls each one of them a ‘cubic centimeter of chance’ which comes once and is then gone forever.  In light of this, Deborah Lipstadt, professor of modern Jewish thought and Holocaust studies at

Emory University wrote this story about her father, and the intersection of chance and opportunity.
“On Rosh Hashanah in the mid-1960s, my father received a cancer diagnosis. The doctors scheduled radiation treatments, but the initial treatments fell on Sukkot and Simchat Torah…. He asked that he be allowed to come in for treatment during the middle days of the festival. The hospital spokesperson explained that those days were reserved for in-patients. Outpatients generally found it too depressing to see the terrible shape these patients were in. My father, unfazed, said that even if it was too depressing, he would come during the in-patient days. Reluctantly, they agreed. On his first visit, he sat in the waiting room surrounded by terribly disfigured, desperately ill people on gurneys. While reading his newspaper, he began to hum. A lady on a gurney nearby said, ‘That’s pretty. Sing louder.’ My father agreed and did. The lady quietly joined in. Others followed, and soon the room was awash with song.  Shortly thereafter, a nurse emerged and asked my father to come in. He rose, but before leaving, he turned to the other patients and said, ‘That is a tune by Shlomo Carlebach. I knew his family in

Germany
. He set a verse from the book of Psalms to this music. The words you were singing are, ‘Esa eynai el heharim meyayin yavo ezri. Ezri meyim Adonai, osey shamayim ve’aretz’ (From whence shall my help come? My help shall come from the Lord, the creator of heaven and earth.) He concluded, ‘And so may it be’ then went in to his treatment”
Mr. Lipstadt seized the chance when it arose and made it an opportunity to make a difference to those around him. He made this opportunity in the midst of a chance encounter, thinking of and reaching out to those around him, acting on his values, doing what he had been preparing for for many years. The same Shlomo Carleback that Mr. Lipstadt mentioned told this parable about chance and opportunities. This is adapted from the version of it retold by his daughter Neshama.  “Imagine you are on a subway, and suddenly realize that your soul mate, the one you have been waiting and praying for your entire life, your basherte, is standing beside you. You’re full of love and disbelief; and you can’t speak. Then the doors open, and your soul mate is leaving, walking off the train. Frozen, you manage only, ‘What’s your number?’ You hear only the first three digits. Then the doors close. At the next stop, you run to a pay phone, frantically trying every combination of numbers imaginable. Failing that, you drive through the streets, crying, searching. Overwrought, you begin to drive dangerously, hurrying, running red lights. You are arrested for reckless behavior. Imprisoned, brokenhearted, and alone, you await your trial. You prepare yourself, terrified of the possible judgment you will receive.  As you enter the courtroom, you look up to see that the judge you have feared  to meet is your soul mate, the very person you’ve been seeking, and whose absence created the sadness that made you lose your way. You break down. Your soul mate says the words that change your life. ‘I know you’ve made mistakes, but let’s not think about that now. Today, I just want to be close to you.’On Yom Kippur we stand in judgment before G-d. We beg forgiveness for our mistakes. In Elul G-d comes to us. If we listen closely we will hear G-d’s voice saying, ‘I know how hard this world can be. I know you long for meaning, and sometimes make mistakes. But now, I just want to be close to you.’ Sometimes, it is when things are falling apart that we have the opportunity to hear G-d’s voice.“ 

Of course, all this begs the question of whether there is really any such thing as chance, or is it foreordained? It has been a subject of debate for centuries. It is too large and too hard a question to answer today, so I will leave it for exploration another time. For the moment, it is enough to know that there is something that we call chance, or coincidence, and we must live in such a way as to take that into account. We cannot live in a rudderless, undirected fashion. There must be a guiding light, and an organizing principle, for our lives to have any meaning. For the moment, we will just accept that this light is G-d, and the principles are those enumerated in the Torah and Mitzvot. Taking advantage of the sudden appearance of a chance, turning it into an opportunity, is not something that simply happens. It requires that we prepare ourself. Like an athlete, we must train and practice and make ourself ready to recognize the chance, and to act at the instant, without notice. Thank G-d, that is what all my years of driving did: I knew to first slow and then stop the car, to continue steering, to hold steady in my lane, and so on, all without taking any time to think. Training, preparation, and practice, all came together, and took over to the point that it was all integrated into my bones. I didn’t have to think at all, I just KNEW what to do and automatically did it. This is also the purpose of our traditional routine of prayer, and meditation, and kavvanot, of tikkun olam, and mitzvot, of avodah, tzedakah, and gemilut Chasidim. These are the exercises and practice that we undertake to make ourselves ready to recognize the chance, to seize the instant, and to actualize the opportunity. This is what we do to prepare, to train, and to ready ourself to recognize our beloved when we encounter them. What we do becomes a part of us, so deeply ingrained that we do not need to give it a thought – we simply do the right thing when we have to act.  That is why it is so important to have meaningful spiritual practices that are in synch with our values, and a regular routine of reinforcing them.Today, Yom Kippur, is the culmination of all of that work and preparation for the past year. Now, here, we stand before G-d, our judge, and our basherte. It is up to us to seize this opportunity, to reach out, to take this chance to be close to G-d, and to seek to hear the words telling us that G-d will  ‘just want to be close’ to us, as we seek to be close to G-d.  In that way, our lives will be fulfilled, and we will be a blessing and a light to the world. May you see G-d in the face of all you love, and love in the face of all around you. May you be sealed for a good and sweet year of blessings and joys. May you find that G-d wants to be close to you. May there be peace in the world. Let us say, Amen. Shanah tovah. Chag sameach.

Rabbi Sue’s Rosh Hashanah Sermon 5768

Tuesday, September 18th, 2007

Standing on One FootRosh HaShana SermonRabbi Sue Levi Elwell 

Staunton/Harrisonberg,

Virginia12/13 September 20071 Tishrei 5768 

Three months ago, I broke my foot. It is still in the process of healing. Two people suggested that I speak to you today on “The Torah that I have learned while standing on one foot.” Knowlegable Jews both, they hoped, perhaps,  that I would be able to use Hillel’s famous response to the sceptic as a jumping off point, so to speak, for my Rosh HaShana derash. As you may remember, the 1st century sage Shammai was approached by an individual who asked him to teach the entire Torah as he stood on one foot. As the Talmud relates the story, after Shammai chased away the questioner, chiding him for the foolishness of his question, the sceptic approached Shammai’s colleague and rabbinic rival, Hillel. Hillel responded: “that which you hate, don’t do to others. That is the entire Torah, the rest is commentary. Go and learn! ” (BT: Shabbat 31a). 

I have been blessed over the last year to have completed a three year study program at the Shalom Hartman Institute in Jerusalem where I was one of thirty rabbis from across the US and Canada who traveled to

Israel to study for a month in the summer and for a week in the winter. While in

Israel
, and every week when we were not together in person, we studied with leading Israeli scholars, exploring traditional texts and asking new questions and acquiring fresh insights. This cross-denominational program brought together an extraordinary group of teachers who are privileged to serve large and small congregations, and communities of elders and lay learners. By sharing our expertise and experience, we were all able to deepen our rabbinates and to strengthen our ability to read and interpret the rich textual legacy of our tradition.
 

In July, I began another study program. Together with 36 rabbis from across the world, I am now a student at the Jewish Spirituality Institute. In many ways, this is the perfect complement to my years of immersion in text study through Hartman. The IJS program welcomes rabbis to explore meditation, yoga, Hasidic teachings and silence as means of deepening our own spirituality and, ultimately, our rabbinates.  

Both of these intense study programs send the rabbis who choose to study in them back to the sources, back to the text. In both programs, we ask again and again: what is the essential message of the text? What is the “ikar,” the root, the essence, the basis, foundation, importance, the principle of the teaching? So, armed with my teachers’ direction to take a second and third and a fourth look at texts that I thought I understood, or texts that seem to be so basic that they teach themselves, I ask you to join me in a consideration of this Talmudic story of Hillel and Shammai.            This is one of the first stories we, as Jews, as Jewish parents and as Jewish educators, learn and teach. The questioner first approached Shammai. The question Shammai heard was: “Teach me the entire Torah in the few seconds that I wobble before you attempting to stand on one foot.” Shammai, who is often portrayed in our ancient texts as impatient or unreasonably stringent, dismisses the questioner. 

What are some other understandings of standing on one foot?The practice of yoga includes a number of positions that focus on balancing the body on one foot, and then on the other. The practioner learns to focus attention so completely that it is possible to stand without falling, gracefully posed and balanced on one foot. For years, I have been working on this pose. Sometimes, I am able to sufficiently focus my attention and intention, compose myself, and, for a few magic seconds, I am balanced. But I must work at paying attention, to being fully present, to focusing, to listening to my body and quieting my mind. Standing on one foot demands work.  

Perhaps Hillel sensed this when the questioner, who is referred to as an outsider or foreigner, a ger, approached him and asked the same question. The Talmud does not record the exact formulation of the question, nor any helpful details about the questioner. So we must use our own life experience, and our imaginations, to reconstruct this simple tale. Is a scoffer approaching our sages to make fun of them—and of Judaism? Or do we have here a person who senses that she stands near the entrance to a beautiful castle filled with rooms set with magnificent banquets. She has heard from travelers of the beauty of this place, the generosity of its inhabitants, the peace of those who make this their home. She is simply seeking a way in. When Hillel was approached, perhaps with the same question as was posed by Shammai, Hillel listens for the question behind the question. Perhaps he looks into the eyes of the one who questions and sees hunger and desire and loneliness. As recorded in the Talmud, Hillel responds, “”that which you hate, don’t do to others. That is the entire Torah. All the rest is commentary. Go and learn!”  

That which you hate, don’t do to others. In other places in our tradition, this double negative becomes a positive commandment: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” (Leviticus 19:18). This direction, to behave towards others as we would like others to behave towards us,  to treat others as we would like to be treated, is often called The Golden Rule, for it is a value held by many of the religions, ethical traditions and spiritual pathways that guide the world’s people.  This ethics of reciprocity is considered here by the Dalai Lama:Every religion emphasizes human improvement, love, respect for others, sharing other people’s suffering. On these lines every religion had more or less the same viewpoint and the same goal.”          How would our lives change if we began taking this teaching, Hillel’s teaching to heart? Take a moment to think of ideal circumstances of waking up each day. Where would you like to awake? What words or music would you like to welcome you from sleep into wakefulness? What would you like to see when you open your eyes? Once you’ve gotten out of bed and stand on your feet, what feelings or thoughts or movements would help you prepare for the day ahead?  How would you nourish your body and then step out of your home to greet the world?  

Now think about how that vision of perfection directs us to treat others. Whether we live alone or with others, whether we wake up alone or beside another, whether we begin our day by waking others in our care or by responding to eager, waiting pets, what might it mean to be keep Hillel’s direction in our minds? How could we, from the moment we awake until we lie down again to sleep, how could we treat others as we would like to be treated? How do we love another throughout the day as we wished we were loved? When we learn to treat ourselves with compassion, intention and care, we have a much better chance of treating others with sensitivity. Once we begin listening to our own hungers and needs, to how we need to be in the world throughout every day, we will discover that we have also learned to listen to others’ hungers, to others’ joys, to others’ suffering.  Like Hillel, we can become experts at listening to the words beyond and behind the words that are articulated. We, too, may learn to hear the words that are never uttered.  

Tomorrow Jews across the globe will stand to listen to the blasts of the shofar, calling us to wake up and listen. For what should we listen? My goal for tomorrow is to be present, to be intentional, to use the same powers of concentration that I muster when I attempt to balance on one foot. I hope to open my heart to the raucous, ancient sounds of the shofar.  If I listen with full intention, perhaps I may be privileged to hear my own voice, echoing the voice of the ancient petitioner, seeking a way in to wisdom, to community, to a sense of the possibility of this new year.  I hope also that I will be able to hear Hillel’s kind and clear direction: begin with the most immediate action. Start treating others the way you want to be treated. This is indeed the ikar, the essence, the foundation of the whole Torah. Let us now go and listen and learn. 

L’shana tova.  

Sermon: Seeking Joy Amidst Imperfection

Thursday, September 13th, 2007

Rabbi Joe Blair — Rosh Hashanah 5768 (September 12-13, 2007)

Today, we are taught, is the birthday of the world, the anniversary of creation. G-d is viewed as the sovereign, sitting on the throne of justice and judgment, writing our fate in the books of life and death. Our deeds are weighed, our souls are judged, our worth is measured, our future determined.

Which of us is confident we will not be found lacking? Which of us has been completely righteous, without sin or transgression, blameless, and without error? Certainly, I would not dare to think of myself in that category. I am an imperfect human being. I err frequently.

But all is not lost.

Even now, at the holy days, if we strive, we can accomplish Teshuvah, turning and returning. We can repent and make amends. We can seek and grant forgiveness. We can repair the damages, heal the injuries, seek forgiveness for our trespasses, and forgive those who have trespassed against us. In short, we can open our hearts, perform Teshuvah, and be better than we were.

This requires a sincere effort in all of these tasks and aspects. Not one, not two, not some, but all. It is not enough to make amends and repent. Nor can we simply seek forgiveness for what we have done that injured others. A key component of this process is sincerely to grant forgiveness.

Easier said than done. I find that often, the most difficult thing of all of these to do is to forgive. As hard as it is to say ‘I am sorry’, it is harder still truly to forgive.

I am human – we all are -and we all have a tendency to nurse our hurts, to hold on to our grudges. This is not healthy. In fact, this is not only fruitless, it is downright self-destructive.

Rabbi Harold Kushner tells of a woman who approached him after a high holiday sermon on forgiveness. The woman was absolutely furious. She reminded Kushner that her husband had abandoned her, leaving her to raise two small children by herself in very tough circumstances ten years earlier. Her life had been very hard since then. She demanded, angrily, “After he did all that to me, you want me to forgive him for what he did?”

After a moment, Kushner replied, “Yes, I want you to forgive him. Not to excuse him, not to say that what he did was acceptable, but to forgive him as a way of saying that someone who would do that has no right to live inside your head, any more than he has a right to live inside your house. Why are you giving a person like that the power to turn you into a bitter, vengeful woman? He doesn’t deserve that power over you.”

Kushner’s point is valid, showing us that forgiveness is not a favor we do for the person who offended or injured us. It is a favor we do for ourself, a way of cleansing our soul of thoughts and memories that lead us to see ourself as a victim, and make our life less enjoyable than it is or could be.

When we understand that we have little choice as to what other people do, but we can ALWAYS choose how we will respond to what they do, we are empowered and able to let go of the embittering memories. We can then enter the new year cleansed and refreshed, free of the burden of carrying their actions in our heart and soul.

One more step: as difficult as forgiveness is, an even more difficult task, in my experience, is forgiving oneself. Like many of us, I am my own harshest critic. I seem to never forget or let go of my failures, I can’t overlook my mistakes, I hold on to and remember all that I do that does not work or does not meet my own expectations. Being very much human, I have lots to criticize in myself. I cannot count my errors and faults in the course of a week just on my fingers and toes. At times I feel that it would take a 10 digit adding machine with paper tape to do so! I am all too aware of my many flaws and mistakes.

But if I continue to carry the load of all of these faults and flaws and mistakes with me, I will burden myself to the point that I will be unable to move or function under the oppressive and crushing weight of them all.

What to do?

We cannot merely forget these flaws and mistakes, and we cannot simply say that the slate is wiped clean and we will go forward into the new year, doing the same things again! No. We know in our hearts that is not the way, it will not work.

Instead, once we have sincerely repented for what we have done, made amends as best we can, and truly asked forgiveness of others, then we are ready to do the hard work. Only then may we seek to do for ourself that which we do for others: we must forgive ourselves for our own errors and transgressions. In this way we can free ourself from a crushing encumberance that drags our soul down, and free ourself of the burden. At that point, we are prepared to seek G-d, and to ask for forgiveness from the divine ruler.

When we free ourself of the burden we have created, we enter the world of the spirit. The most amazing thing to say about this world is that it is free of the constraints of our ordinary life. Gravity doesn’t apply to our spirit or our soul. We can fly and soar, there are no boundaries, and the whole universe is open to us, and our playground.

When we are free in this way, it is possible for us to seek G-d, to approach the throne of the most high. In that state, we are able to soar upwards, seeking G-d, and in that fashion, acting and striving to bring more godliness into the world, and to be more godly in our own life.

There is a huge benefit to us for this effort. This feeling of freedom, of interacting with the divine, is the source of Joy. Not happiness, for that is fleeting. Not pleasure, which is tied to the physical world and the actions of others. Joy, the sense of being at one with creation, in communion with the divine, at peace with ourself.

The tools are available to us, and we can take advantage of them to reach Joy. We are flawed, but in a manner of thinking, the imperfections we contain are the necessary precursors to seek and find Joy. It only remains for us to choose to seek Joy amidst imperfection.

One more story, before I conclude. A bit of wisdom that shows us how G-d is merciful, and offers us a path that can lead to Joy.

In the traditional Jewish world, there are men (and some women) who serve as schnorrers. This term means ‘beggar’, but the fact is that they are really not beggars. Instead they serve as collectors for money for a worthy cause. The stereotypical picture is of a righteous chasidic man, very pious, very religious. They often come to Jews around the High Holy days (and other holidays), and they make a pitch for the person they are visiting to give Tzedakah for a cause they espouse. Their attitude is often that they are there to do the Jew they are visiting a favor, giving him or her the opportunity to fulfill a Mitzvah. Often, the best of them make their pitch in the form of a story, something that will touch and affect the listener. Here is one such story that contains a great deal of wisdom, as told by Avi Magid (a name that can be translated as ‘my father is a storyteller’), slightly adapted here.

“I was called and asked to join in a meeting, so I hurried to the rabbi’s study. As I entered his study, Rabbi Joseph was talking in an animated way with, of all people, a schnorrer, a very small, very elderly chasid. Odd, I thought, why invite me over to meet another schnorrer? A schnorrer is a schnorrer. A quick glance verified that there was nothing unusual about this schnorrer. He was dressed in the usual black coat, black hat, wore a long gray beard, had the full payes. In short, he had all the criteria of the mental image of a schnorrer. But, as it turned out, this was no ordinary schnorrer collecting money for a yeshivah or orphanage. No, this guy had gone big business — he had merged and consolidated! He represented a multitude of institutions, and had gold foil stamped and embossed certificates of authenticity, documented in a well worn leather portfolio, which he grandly displayed and brandished to emphasize both his status and the importance and value of his mission. Every year, he made the rounds of synagogues and individuals. Every year, he brought back large amounts of money for his employers. And every year, he did this by telling a story — usually something that contained musar – a tale with an ethical twist to it. And, like the wandering minstrels of medieval Provence, you paid him in direct relationship to how you much you liked it or how much it affected your heart. As you can imagine, he was very good at it. That year, his story was in the form of a question. The rabbi led us over to the seating area. We got settled, and comfortable on the couch, the schnorrer sitting opposite us on an armchair. He leaned forward in his chair and looked deep in our eyes. He asked, “What is the difference between a mitzvah – a good deed – and an averah – a sin?” The question, of course, was rhetorical – not meant to be answered by us. And, even if you did know an answer, you were obliged not to respond. So, we looked at him and waited politely for him to explain the answer. He sat back heavily. Closing his eyes and speaking softly in the sing-song voice which is often used to study Talmud, so as to draw us in, he said: “A mitzvah is something that often seems hard to do, but afterwards you know you did the right thing. An averah is something that often seems easy to do, but afterwards you know you did the wrong thing. And how do you know? Because your kishkes – your guts -tell you so.” Here was a statement about life which basically rendered any formalized system as meaningless. All the structured discourse of the philosophers, all the patterned logic of the theologians were for naught. All the classes on morality, the reflections on situational ethics, the values based decision making, even the pilpul of the Talmud; and it all came down to just this. The final arbiter of principle was kishkes. How simple. That was the schnorrer’s story that year. He got an exceptionally large check.” For us, the message is clear. As the schnorrer said: you know in your guts what is right. The hard thing is doing it, but you can choose to do so. When you do what is right, you feel yourself free and moving closer to G-d, finding Joy. And when you err, all is not lost! There is still the means to recover, by using the tool of Teshuvah. You can still free yourself, and achieve Joy.

The bottom line, the take away message is that G-d has provided for us two ways to seek Joy: by choosing so as not to err, and by seeking Teshuvah when we do err. Joy is available to us even when we err. How liberating! What a great gift! Praise be to G-d for creating us in such a way that we may find Joy, even when we fail in the first instance.

May all of you have a shanah tovah u’metukah, and a gut, gebencht, gezunt yor, and may you find and experience much Joy.

Blogging and The Congregational Trip to Israel in August

Wednesday, July 25th, 2007

I am going to point out to you here that I have created a secondary blog in another location to report on the Congregational trip to Israel. I did this because I cannot update this blog readily from Israel, so wanted to be able to put entries up. I hope to move that blog wholesale to this one after the trip is completed. Meantime, please feel free to visit that blog at

                              SORRY. Link removed. No longer available on line.   [12/276/2007]

Rabbi Joe

May you be sealed….

Tuesday, October 3rd, 2006

The 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

Kaporet

Tuesday, September 26th, 2006

There 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). 

Pleasant? No. 

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.  

Leshanah tovah umetukah, 

Rabbi Joe Blair

The Cycle of the year

Wednesday, September 20th, 2006

Perhaps 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.

 

Rabbi Joe Blair

 

Another year

Thursday, September 7th, 2006

It is almost exactly one year ago I began entering items into this blog.

The press of other things in life has kept me from writing often, and I’ve made few entries since. Sorry. Mea Culpa!

This year I plan to be more sedulous, and will make a concerted effort to do so. Please continue visiting this blog for updates.

Rabbi Joe Blair

Why blog? Why not! It is VERY Jewish!

Tuesday, November 8th, 2005

I have been writing these blog entries over the past few weeks to a month. I decided to try to add at least one new entry a week, and I think I have done a bit better than that so far. I hope that you will read them and post your comments, telling me what you think. I would appreciate and hope to learn from the thoughtful and considered responses I expect you to submit.

The benefit of a blog, it seems to me, is that it shares some aspects of a page of Talmud. We have the Mishnah – the central statement, the essential assertion. The Gemara is the additional expalantory material offered as the body of the blog entry. The cataloging and storage and the categories with which the entry is tagged are the apparatus, similar to the cross-references and the translation of Onqelos in the Talmud. Your comments are the commentary of Rashi, Ralbag, Rambam, Ramban, Ibn Ezra, and all the rest. The ‘conversation’ between the original post and the comments and later comments feels like the back and forth between the text and the commentators in the Talmud, adding richness and depth, expanding the meaning, and furthering our understanding.

So here is another entry. I look forward to hearing from you about it.

Rabbi Joe Blair

Who Am I?

Thursday, October 20th, 2005

A question on multiple levels….

At one level, the answer is a simple, factual recitation. I am Rabbi Joe Blair. I serve Temple House of Israel in Staunton VA (and also Beth El Congregation in Harrisonburg, VA) as rabbi, educator, spiritual leader, religious expert, instructor, legal decisor, shaliach tzibbur (prayer leader for the community), shaliach (emissary and representative), pastor, counselor, and etc. [whatever needs doing, including cleaning, I often find]. ;-)

At another level, I am the sum of my experiences, and therefore a product of my past. That makes me a graduate of U. Va., William & Mary, and the Reconstructionist Rabbinical College; a computer consultant, an attorney, a rabbi, an engineer, an educator, a writer and an editor; a son, sibling, uncle, cousin, husband, and father; and many other things.

At yet another level, I am a part and a product of my upbringing, faith, and community. Raised in a Jewish home by Jewish parents and a Jewish family, with Jewish experiences and education, steeped in Jewish tradition, heritage, history, religion, and ways of thinking.
And on a different level, I am a human being, like all human beings, created by the divine Creator, having the spark or breath of the divine within me, and formed to be able to strive towards the divine and serve as a partner with G-d in perfecting and completing the world.

A question fraught with many meanings, and therefore many possible answers, this by no means exhausts what could be said.

For now, however, it will have to do!

Shalom uvrakhah!

Rabbi Joe Blair

Oh, Brave New World!

Thursday, October 20th, 2005

So here I am, entering the very first entry to my blog…. Not quite sure what it is, or what I should be doing. But here all the same.

So what is a rabbi doing involved in the mysterious world of technology? Uh, if you figure it out, would you let me know? But, as we learn G-d said about creation, Yehi tov, it will be/is good.

Every new technology has a potential to be used for good, as much as for ill. It is up to us to make the choice. To exercise our free will, and lean towards the side of the Yetzer Hatov (the inclination towards good), as opposed to the Yetzer Hara (the inclination towards the not good). The ability to choose is essential to us, for it is what differentiates us as being human. [More on this another time.]

I will return and try to post something regularly. Please come back and check it out. Feel free to let me know how you think I am doing, and to offer your comments, thoughts, or ideas.

Shalom uvrakha!

Rabbi Joe Blair