Tuesday, September 28, 2004

Taking a break from translating the first nine lines of the book of Hosea, one of the "minor prophets," only called so because of the shorter length of the books. Hard work translating Biblical poetry, but such is the life of my glamorous existence. Part of my day is spent in a basement classroom which is new, and keeping with our tradition at the campus, no windows. We yo-yo up and downstairs, from a room with windows, albeit no view, to the basement (excuse me, the Faculty Level). Good thing the teaching is so sparkly! My two favorite classes right now, one on the prophets and Talmud are both held on the Faculty Level, as well as my class for sermon writing and commentaries. That leaves history and Jewish thought upstairs. Lots and lots and lots of coffee. Who needs windows and sunshine?

The high holidays are over, thankfully, now all that's left is the fatigue. And the homework. And the fatigue. I catch whiffs on occasion of the politics that go on at my pulpit and fortunately I don't really get involved. It reminds me, though, that this is a job where it's hard to major on the majors, that is, do the religious work I want to do (not marketing, fundraising, dealing with Mrs. Schwartz's complaint over her son's bar mitzvah, etc.) It all comes with the territory I guess. Sort of reminds me of the old aphorism of the guy who won a pie eating contest and his prize was more pie.

But it's Sukkot, my favorite holiday, Z'man Simchatano, the time of our rejoicing. And rejoice I will do...no school for a few days (although homework)...and lots of eating, praying, hanging out with folks.

Hag Sameach (happy holiday!)

Thursday, September 23, 2004

A Sermon for Kol Nidre 5765

Dear God,

Help me find the words to share with this congregation. Sometimes I am left without words to cope with what seems like a world that is out of control and all I am left with are questions.

On Wednesday a second American lost his life at the hands of radical Muslims in the most primitive, barbaric way that could be imagined, and then pictures were posted for world consumption on the Internet. The terrorist, Zarqawi, proclaimed that “We will apply God’s law on them.”

We go on and wonder, where are You?

Then there was yet another attack by a female homicide bomber in Jerusalem. Because of a quick-acting guard, the damage was much less than it could have been, but the dead included two guards and as the Zaka volunteer said it was a typical scene of terrorism with all of the gruesomeness that entails. At the end of August, a homicide bombing killed 16 in Beer Sheva, including a three-year old boy. Photos published are too graphic to describe. These are just two of the recent attacks.

We go on and wonder, where are You?

A few weeks ago, children, yes, God, little, innocent children who came to the first day of school dressed up with flowers and gifts for teachers were taken hostage by terrorists, only to end in disaster with over 350 little ones killed. Chechen terrorists, a week after taking down two aircraft and bombing a subway station raised the terrorist staked to unknown levels.

We go on and wonder, where are You?

Dear God, the United States Holocaust Museum, has, for the first time in its history called the wanton killing in Darfar, in the Sudan, genocide. Arabs are killing ethnic blacks, raping their women, driving them from their homes, starving them to death. And the Sudanese government refuses to let aid in to help these people, nor will it intervene. According to the United Nations, of an estimated population of 6.5 million, more than 2 million people are being affected by an ongoing campaign of ethnic cleansing carried out by the Sudanese government and its proxies against the region's black African population.

We go on and wonder, where are You?

As the Psalmist cried out: “How long, O God; will You ignore me forever? How long will You hide Your face from me? How long will I have cares on my mind, grief in my heart all day? How long will my enemy have the upper hand? Look at me, answer me, O Adonay my God.”

When we sense that our enemies do have the upper hand, that unspeakable evil continues its rampage across our world, harming children, women, men, the poor, the vulnerable, the innocent going about the daily business of life, we can’t help but wonder where You are in a world that has so much evil in it.

Our crisis of faith is nurtured by our confusion. In a world of such imperfection, with so much pain, with such violence, with people who we want to believe were created in Your image, but God, how can we see Your image in the faces of people who would do such unspeakable acts?

Dear God, we need You to answer us, as we call unto You from this narrow place. As the Psalmist sang:

From my narrow place I called out to You, and You answered me from the wideness.

God, as water is raised from the dark, deep recesses of a well, we need You to raise us up. We need You to lift us from a place that is dark to abundant light.
As the Psalmist sang:

I will extol You, Adonai
For You have lifted me up and not let my enemies rejoice over me.

And dear God, we cannot live with hopelessness. When this world overwhelms us and pushes us down, we need to know that there is hope even for situations that appear to be hopeless or out of our control. We need to know that Your spirit will be like a magnet pulling us. As we pray in Nishmat Kol Hai:

“And from bad and lingering illnesses You have pulled us up.”

In the light of hope, we see the goodness in the world. We want to be in a world where beauty is like the sun rising in the morning, illumining all. We want to be in a world where our pain, our aching, for the world as it is, can be the impetus for change. And we want to believe that we, as one small part of a human chain that is over six billion people strong, can be harnessed to create a difference.

In the light of hope, we are empowered to act.

In the light of hope, we change perspective. We see that there are others who are in the well, not as a crisis of faith, but as the results of humanity’s inhumanity and cruelty. Our perspective changes: we need to draw up those who remain in the well of inhumanity, in the well of cruelty, locked in the narrow place.

As Jews, our concern is not only for our own people, but all people.

We are not one by character, as a people, to stand idly by and let the world spin on its course, at the hands of humans who would have it spin out of control. We are Jews, prohibited from sitting by silently. As Nobel Prize winner Elie Wiesel has said: "Is silence the answer? It never was."

We fight terrorism by refusing to give into fear. Terrorists want to strike fear into our hearts that will change our behavior. In Israel, in Russia, in New York, around the globe, terrorism does not often win political demands, but it wins in more insidious ways when we help terrorists succeed.

After the attacks of 9/11, the mayor of New York implored us to visit, to come, to show the terrorists that we would not be afraid. The same is true for Israel: although it is far away, we cannot give the terrorists the victory of being afraid to visit. The psychological power of terrorism is something that we need to consciously remind ourselves of, that they want us to be afraid, they want us to change our behavior. And when we do that, we give them a victory.

So much terrorism in the world is done blasphemously, in the name of God, and often, in the name of Allah. We must remember that this is a perversion of Islam, that while there are far too many radical Muslims in the world committed to acts of terror, they remain a small percentage of the worldwide Muslim population.

As people of faith, we call on all Muslims to decry the terrorism and violence that violates God’s holy name, to reject the radical notions of Jihad, and recommit ourselves to finding commonalities in our work of perfecting the world for all humanity.

When the United States Holocaust Museum and our government declare the Sudanese situation “genocide,” we are commanded to act. There is no greater honor to pay to the survivors of the Shoah who still live, and to the memory of those who survived but are no longer with us, to infuse the words “Never Again” with real meaning. We remember the unique atrocities of the Shoah, and in so doing actively do what we can, what we must, to prevent reoccurrences of genocide in our world.

The Sudanese government thinks that the genocide in Darfur is far enough away from the population centers of the West that they can get away with murder on a wide scale. Yet a place as remote as Darfur, in the Sudan, is not far from us. For unlike World War Two when the media did not report the atrocities of the death camps, we have first-hand accounts by Westerners who have visited and seen little children literally dying from starvation as their homes were burned and their families were sent on marches through the desert.

What must we do? We must keep ourselves informed, we must keep the media and our elected officials engaged, and we must prevent the people of Darfur from falling off of the world’s radar screen. Our particular Jewish response to this world tragedy has organizations such as the Religious Action Center and the Jewish World Service Committee actively working with other organizations to get relief to the victims of this unconscionable situation.

We are commanded to act because we are in relationship with God, and we are God’s partners. Even when we do not understand God’s motivations for concealing God’s face from us, we remain God’s hands and feet. We have been given consciousness, wisdom and understanding not to sit still, but to act, not to despair at the bottom of the well, but to act in the light.

And we must never, ever, lose faith in our God or the world that has been created for us to perfect just as we are never, ever free from bringing hope to others through our actions.

Through our faith, we realize that it is human beings, not God, who has the power to commit unspeakable acts of evil. Through our actions, we realize that it is human beings that perform incredible acts of hesed, deeds of loving-kindness that are too often obscured behind the world’s tragedies.

It was after the Holocaust that the philosopher Emil Fackenheim created the 614th Commandment: Do not give Hitler a posthumous victory. He wrote: “Jews are under a sacred obligation to survive. After the death camps, Jewish existence itself is a holy act: Jews are under a sacred obligation to remember their martyrs: Jews are, as Jews, forbidden to despair of redemption, or to become cynical about the world and humanity, for to submit to cynicism is to abdicate responsibility for the world and to deliver the world into the hands of the Luciferian forces of Nazism. And, above all, Jews are "forbidden to despair of the God of Israel, lest Judaism perish."

Losing faith because of the acts of humans is a rejection of God so complete as to give evildoers a complete victory.

And so we join with the Psalmist in affirming:

“Look to Adonai for hope, be strong and of good courage, look to Adonai.”

Wednesday, September 22, 2004

My translation of Psalm 27, the psalm for the pentitential season:

[A psalm] of David [27, caf zayin]

Adonai is my light and my salvation.
Whom, then, shall I fear?
Adonai is the strength of my life.
Before whom should I tremble?

When evil-doers approach to eat my flesh,
when tormenters and enemies come after me,
See how they stumble;
See how they tumble down!

Should a force encamp against me, my heart shall have no fear;
Should a war arise against me, in one thing I shall trust

One thing have I asked of God,
one goal do I pursue:
To dwell in Adonai’s house throughout my days,
To know the bliss of Adonai,
To visit in God’s temple.

Truly, in a day of trouble, I am
nestled in God’s shelter,
hidden in the recess of God’s tent.

God sets me high upon a rock.
And now, my head is raised in triumph on my foes around me,
And I offer sacrifice in celebration in God’s tent.
I offer song and melody to Adonai.

Hear me, Adonai, I call aloud;
Be gracious to me, answer me!

To you my heart cries out, to you my face is turned;
Your presence, Adonai, I seek.

Hide not your face from me;
Do not, in anger, turn away your servant.

You have been my help, don’t shun me now;
Do not abandon me, my God who saves!

For my father and my mother have abandoned me,
But Adonai shall take me in.

Teach me your way, Adonai, and guide me in a just path as I meet my foes.
Don’t place me at the mercy of my enemies,
for slanderers arise against me, and they fume in violence.

Look to Adonai [for hope]
Be strong and of good courage.
Look to Adonai

Monday, September 20, 2004

Hello, and L'Shanah Tovah! Here is my sermon from the first day of Rosh HaShanah:

The Ultimate Invitation: You, God, and the Relationship that Waits

Relationships are hard work.

Just ask Dr. Phil whose “Relationship Rescue” and workbook are top sellers, or Oprah’s show a few weeks ago on “Extreme Breakups.” Seen the shelves in the self-help section of Barnes and Noble lately? Shelf after shelf after shelf on relationships: husbands and wives, parents and children, workers and bosses, and any other variation of relationship that you could possibly imagine.

What makes us human beings so complicated to get along with? And if we’re so hard to get along with, what does that say about our ability to engage in “the Ultimate Relationship”, that is the one between us and God? We humans need some guidance in this area. So I’ve turned to the ultimate book and someone who knew something about relating to God.

Today on the Torah Show is Moses, relationship expert, here to provide us with his advice to relating to the Ultimate One.

Welcome Moses. Tell us, you are the one of the only human beings that we know of to have had a relationship with the Holy One, blessed be God. What was it like?

Well, I’ve got to tell you, it wasn’t easy. I mean, I’m human, and he’s, well, God.

So tell us, what was your secret? I mean, we’re living quite a few years down the road from what we’ve read in the Torah about your relationship with God. We haven’t seen you come down from the mountain, or been able to pick-up manna when we’ve been hungry. We’ve never seen the sea part and we’ve never seen the thunder over the mountain when you received the Ten Commandments. So tell us, make it easier for us to understand how we should relate with God.

Well, David, the issues you raise are exactly what concerned me, and more importantly, concerned God, as I was reaching the end of my time. Most of the time you’ll remember that I’m talking in the Book of Deuteronomy. I’m talking to the Children of Israel before they cross the river into the land that God promised to the people. I had many concerns, and they can be put into two categories: ben adam v’chavero, which means between a human and another human, and ben adam v’makom, which means between a human and God.

Why was it so important for you to talk about this?

Because I knew, as did God, that the relationship between the Children of Israel and God was going to change once they entered the land. No more would they have me as an intermediary. God would no longer play the same direct role in our day-to-day lives as we had experienced it in the desert. So, even though God would be there, behind everything in everyone’s lives, to be aware of that would take heightened human consciousness.

That makes sense, Moses. But as I said in the introduction we people have a hard time relating to each other. How should we relate to God? And how do we know God wants us to be in such a relationship>

Well, David, the second part of your question is easy. God most definitely wants to be in relationship to each and every person here. I want to point out something: in my very last speech in the Torah I remind people that God understands that relationships become estranged, have ups and downs, go through difficulties, and sometimes get completely lost. I know from 40 years in the desert with the people’s complaining and obstinance that this is not an easy relationship to foster. From three days after we left Egypt, the people complained about wanting to go back. When I went up on the mountain, they made the Golden Calf. When they complained about the manna, birds rained down on them and they ate and died. The journey is not one of a people perfectly content with their lot, nor is it of a people who do not, at times, have difficult relations with God.

So this is what I’ve concluded: human nature being what it is, people need to hear the same message time and again. So my final spoken message UB the Torah is about this relationship. In short, my message is this: if you’re estranged from God, then return to the relationship. God would rather have a living relationship with its ups and down than to be completely absent from your life. And I think that He makes that pretty clear.

Okay, Moses, if Holy One makes it clear, can you make it clearer for us?

Well, in chapter 30 of Deuteronomy you’ll see it. I remind folks that if they return to God, God will more than abundantly return to them by:

v restore your fortunes
v take you back in love
v bring you together again from all the peoples where YHVH your God has scattered you; Even from the ends of the world, YHVH your God will gather you
v bring you to the land that your fathers’ possessed and you shall possess it
v Will make you more prosperous and more numerous than your fathers
v Open your heart and the hearts of your offspring to love YHVH your God with all your heart and soul, in order that you may live
v Inflict all those curses upon the enemies and foes who persecuted you
v Grant you abounding prosperity in all your undertakings and in the issue of your womb, the offspring of your cattle, and the produce of your soil
v again delight in your well-being, as He did in that of your fathers

So Moses, in short, you’re telling us, that this relationship is always available to us, and that even though you’re not around to speak to God face-to-face, the relationship that we have with God CAN BE JUST AS SIGNIFICANT?.

David, that is EXACTLY what I’m talking about. Accessibility, that all that has placed before the people is accessible. You do not need me or to see the miracles such as God’s hovering presence in cloud or fire through miracles. God is there if you are willing to be there. And if you are estranged from God and return, God will return ABUNDUNTLY to you.

Moses, you’ve been a wonderful guest. Thank you for sharing with us your relationship advice about how God wants us to be in relationship with God. But one last question: how do we moderns go about doing that?

Well, David, as this point, I’ll toss it back to you so that you can share some of your insights from all of that time in rabbinical school. You have my stories, my voice and my ideas, but now they all belong to you, to make it yours.

Wow, Moses. That’s some challenge. But let me see what I can do to make this tangible for this holy community before me. Thank you for taking time on Rosh HaShanah, which must be a busy time of year for you, to spend time with us.

__________________

Moses’ relationship advice perhaps gives us an incentive to be in a relationship with God, but it is framed in a lexicon of its time. For us to think about this relationship, we need to place it in terms that we can relate to ourselves, here and now.

With humans, even though relationships can be difficult, we at least have human emotions and the benefit of speech to make our relationships happen. Yet with God, for whom none of us has ever seen or heard, at least not face-to-face, what are our options?

In thinking about how to relate to God, the best model that I could think of is three broad categories derived from how we relate to each other as humans:

(1) When we care about someone, we think about them, they are part of our daily consciousness

(2) We relate to others by communicating on a regular basis.

(3) We do things together.

Let’s now see how we can use these models for fostering a relationship with the Holy One.

Relating to God, Part One: Making God Part of our Consciousness

No doubt that when we have a relationship with someone, they are part of our consciousness. So, too, having a relationship with God first requires thinking about God.

This is not thinking in compartmentalized moments like when you’re here in synagogue, but at all times of your daily being.

Having God as part of your consciousness creates “radical amazement,” articulated by the great mid-century Jewish philosopher Abraham Joshua Heschel. That is, when you take things you take for granted and see how truly extraordinary they are, you are relating to God. The miracle of your life, your being, and being in a world that supports your being, is nothing short of “radically amazing.” Think about it.

Relating to God, Part Two: Communications

Next, any good relationship requires communications.

How do we communicate with God?

Through prayer. Through the language of prayer, we humans give expression to our most innermost thoughts and feelings. Prayer can be what we have here written on the page, or they can be prayers that come to your lips.

Our tradition has a long and honored past of prayer being both fixed and fluid. Direct the words toward God and they become prayer. There are many kinds of prayers that are available, literally at your fingertips, that have come down through the years. The psalms are particularly wonderful places to look for words of inspiration and a range of emotions.

Prayer can come at all times: to reflect on the daily miracles that attend to us, to special moments, to times when you are angry with God. Yes, I said anger. It’s important to remember that having a relationship means that all of the emotional qualities of relating come with it. Happiness. Anger. Sadness. Joy. Whatever we bring to our relationship and to our prayer, God can handle it.

If you want to make your prayer more concrete, another way you can experience God is by communicating through writing. Create a spiritual journal where you’re writing as if only you and God will read what is there.

Relating to God, Part Three: Getting Together

How do we act on our relationship with God, for as I’ve said many times, we are God’s hands and feet in this world. How we choose to act in our lives reflect our relationship with God. When we visit the sick, comfort the bereaved, take care of the less fortunate, and the whole range of mitzvoth that are available to us, we are acting truly as a partner with God is continuing the work of Creation.

When we take advantage of the beautiful rituals our tradition has created from lighting Shabbat candles and making Kiddush to having a seder.

When we study Torah and Jewish texts, we come together with God. Our tradition holds that when two Jews come together to study, the presence of God, the Shechinah, dwells between them.

I hope that I’ve done Moses proud in coming up with these three ways that we can create and nurture our relationship with God: through adding God to our consciousness, through communicating with God regularly, and through getting together with God through action and learning.

But back to what I think was Moses’ main point. God wants us to be in relationship with the holy one. Moses makes that abundantly clear: return to God and God will return to you, a return overflowing in abundance.

Taken in its totality, God is offering each and every one of us ultimate invitation to relationship, perhaps the most profound and extraordinary relationship for a human being to have.

Consider yourself invited.

Sunday, September 12, 2004

In the spirit of repentance, my apologies for not writing more. As you will note from one of the last posts with news about my life, it was the day the ulpan ended. It was also the day that, most unfortunately, my grandmother's life ended. That night I made plans to fly east and was there for the funeral where I did the eulogy as my grandmother had requested before she died. That was my first eulogy, and my "debut" before my family as a R.I.T. (rabbi-in-training.) After two weeks back there of feeling numb and cleaning out the house, I returned home for the two weeks before school resumed.

The last weekend in August I was back in Bremerton doing my THIRD bar mitzvah! The fourth is on the way at Shabbat Bereshit. Between then and now, I have at least three high holiday sermons to write, as well as all of the services to prepare for. And oh yeah, homework!

Still, the most amazing part of this is how you start to feel like a rabbi. The first year in Israel you're enjoying being in a different country and starting something new. The second year you're overwhelmed and thrown into your student pulpit, learning on the job. The third year, well, it's just beginning. But I got my first note in the mail addressed to "rabbi." That was a trip! It was from a 16-year-old who went to a URJ summer camp on scholarship (I helped him get the scholarship). It's wonderful to make an impact on a young person's life. I hope it has ripples for years and years for the Jewish People.

And now, back to our previously scheduled sermon writing.
A Prayer for 9/11

This is a prayer for 9/11 that I delivered today in the Library Minyan here in Los Angeles:

Our God and God of our Ancestors,

We stand before you today on this Shabbat Nitzavim as Jews commemorating Creation and Redemption on Shabbat, and also as Americans who join with all of our fellow citizens in remembering those men, women and children whose lives tragically ended three years ago today on September 11, 2001.

On this day, we seek You, the One who Comforts, that your comforting presence will be felt by the mothers, fathers, husbands, wives, partners, children and all who lost a loved one in New York, Washington and Pennsylvania.

On this day, we seek You, the Just One, who has commanded us, “Tzedek, tzedek tirdorf”—Justice, justice you shall pursue.

On this day, we seek You, as we draw close to Yom ha Zikaron, the day of remembrance and Yom ha Din, the day of judgment, that your spirit inspires all who would practice sinat hinam, baseless hatred, to turn from their ways, toward You.

On this day, we again raise our voices:

Oseh shalom bimromav, who yaaseh shalom aleinu, v’al kol yisrael, v’al kol yoshvei tavel.

Amen.