Erev Rosh Hashanah 5779

You can hear the sermon and entire service on the Congregation Albert page on Mixlr.

My Facebook page has parts of the sermon and service on Facebook Live.

Someone asked me to teach a class entitled What Is The Motivation To Be Good In This World: Why Be Good If There Is No Heaven Or Hell? I agreed it would be a good topic for a class and so I pondered it for a few frustrating weeks. I found the appropriate sources from our historic Jewish literature. I reread some philosophy. And ultimately I ran into that preverbal brick wall. So I did the most logical thing: I decided not to teach it and set the class aside. But, the frustration remained. I don’t believe in an afterlife in which we are rewarded or punished for our actions in this world. I know that our place in this world as Jews is to work to perfect our world and our community. But that is too simple an answer.

Then I found the book: Putting God Second: How To Save Religion From Itself by Rabbi Donniel Hartmann. Rabbi Hartmann’s book answers  the question “Why have religious people in the past, and today, and probably into eternity, done such horrible things in the name of religion?” In answering that question he also answers the question: What is the motivation to be good in this world if there is no heaven or hell.

Rabbi Hartmann writes: “While there are multiple causes for the moral inadequacy that so often typifies human existence, a significant and largely unobserved challenge lies squarely within religion itself. We must acknowledge that many religious systems, while commanding their adherents to act morally, also cultivate perspectives and predispositions that undermine this very goal. This inner conflict between faith in God and the moral imperative to become people who are not indifferent is at the core of religion’s autoimmune disease.

He then enumerates the two “auto-immune diseases of religion; God Intoxication and God Manipulation. Tonight we will focus on God Manipulation.

“God Manipulation, aligns the identity and will of the One with the interests and agendas of those who lay claim to God’s special love…. Within this way of thinking, we may embrace the obligation to love our neighbors as ourselves, while redefining neighbors to include not those among whom we live but rather the much smaller circle of those who share our particular set of religious beliefs. God Manipulation extends a blanket exemption from truly seeing anyone outside our religious community. (pp. 45 - 46. Hartman, Donniel. Putting God Second: How to Save Religion from Itself. Beacon Press. Kindle Edition.)

Without question our Torah and our Tanach contain some of the highest moral imperatives and ethical laws. From “love your neighbor as yourself” (Lev. 19:18) to  just a few verses later: “the stranger who dwells with you shall be to you as one born among you, and you shall love him as yourself; for you were aliens in the land of Egypt; I am the Eternal your God” (Lev. 19:24)

On the other hand, our Torah and Tanach contain commands to restrict, oppress or kill those who are different. God commands that we commit genocide, treat women as less than men, kill our own children for drunkenness, and put people to death for traveling more than 4500 feet from their homes on Shabbat.

Fortunately, as early as the first Century B.C.E, our spiritual ancestors deemed these horrific laws unethical and thus inapplicable. Thus evolved our people’s propensity for interpretation. We live in a real world with real challenges. Judaism understands that with new situations, new technology and an ever increasing body of knowledge, people evolve and change. In the last sixty years our understanding of equal rights for all races, genders, and gender identities has grown and continues to grow. Without an evolving Judaism, grounded in moral principals and ethical actions, Judaism would have died with the destruction of the Second Temple by the Romans 1948 years ago.

An evolving Judaism seemingly stands at odds against those who believe in a perfect, infallible, eternal God, who gave the Torah to the Israelites through Moses,  Would not Torah have to be perfect?

The answer is a resounding no. Logic dictates that if you believe God is perfect, and infallible, God could only give the Torah in a way that our ancestors could understand? Michele and I were once at a party and a coworker told us that her seventh grader was studying studying Immanuel Kant. Having studied Kant over the past 4 decades, regardless of how smart a seventh grader may be, she or he cannot understand Kant the way an adult, with years of life experience can understand Kant’s views on the world. In other words, if Moses did receive the Torah from God on Sinai, what he received was what he could comprehend.

As Rabbi Hartmann more eloquently writes: “But what if it were possible for a perfect God to give an imperfect scripture? What if, upon further consideration, imperfect scripture is the only scripture imaginable?

‘Sacred scripture, while purporting to provide for humankind a window into the will of God, at its core is an anthropocentric (human centered - my comment) endeavor. Its aim is theocentric (God centered - my comment), in the sense that it purports to serve as a foundation for the average believer to live with God… Scripture is thus inherently constituted as a compromise between divine will and human limitation.”  (Hartman, Donniel. Putting God Second: How to Save Religion from Itself (p. 123). Beacon Press. Kindle Edition.)

As Americans we are familiar with this concept. We understand that when the writers of the Declaration of Independence and Constitution wrote of the rights of all men, they really meant only white men who owned land. No non-Europeans. No renters. No women. Over time, especially the past 60 - 70 years, our understanding of what they wrote does include these forgotten groups. To revert to the founders understanding of “men” would be unthinkable today.

So too in Judaism. Torah and Rabbinic Literature teach that to be a witness in a trial, one must be a Shabbat observing, male Jew. So then to be a rabbi who more often serves as a witness than anyone else, one must be a Shabbat observing, male Jew. The first woman rabbi was a 17th Century Kurdish woman named Asneath Barzani. She gained the title of Tanait, the equivalent Kurdish term for Rabbi. In 2010, the next known Orthodox woman, Rachel Isaacs, was ordained. Today, women Rabbis occupy some of the most prestigious pulpits and, along with talented lay women, lead some of the major organizations in the Jewish world. Our definition of who can be a rabbi can never go back and exclude women. To do so would be unethical, regardless of any of God’s laws in the Torah.

Our heritage calls on us to continue on this same path. We are called to evolve our understanding of what it means to be good and the acts we need to perform even when it contradicts specific Divine laws in Torah.

Nonetheless, we must take great care to ensure that when we say we are putting the ethical above God, the ethics we promote increase good in the world and not just our own self interest. Ultimately we can only know in hindsight if we increased good in the world. This compels us to take care and at the same time not ignore the need to put the ethical above God.

So let us return to the original question: Why be good if you do not believe there is reward or punishment after death and to take it a step farther, you do not believe in God? Allow me to again quote Rabbi Hartmann: “Does one have to believe in God in order to be good ? Certainly not....The question then becomes, what forms of doing or believing, or both, constitute the standard of the ‘good Jew’"?(Hartman, Donniel. Putting God Second: How to Save Religion from Itself (p. 144). Beacon Press. Kindle Edition.)

To answer the question Rabbi Hartmann cites the story of the person who comes to Hillel to convert to Judaism with the requirement that Hillel teaches him all he needs to know while the person stands on one foot. We all know the story. Hillel agrees and answers with what he knew to be the essence of Judaism: “What is hateful to you do not do to another.”

Hillel does not mention belief in God, an afterlife, or even prayer. For Hillel, to be a good Jew one has to be ethical and just.

Judaism indeed places doing good above believing in God. It is one of many things that make me proud to be a Jew.

Rosh Hashanah Morning 5778

Rabbi Harry Rosenfeld

Congregation Albert

Albuquerque, New Mexico

While procrastinating writing this sermon, I calculated that over my six year tenure at Congregation Albert I have saved 85,000 emails, deleted 10’s of thousands more and received about 22,000 junk emails for a total close to 150,000 - 200,000 emails or about 25,000 - 35,000 emails a year. That does not count the 10’s of thousands I received and read on my personal email accounts. I am not citing these numbers to whine about how busy I am or brag about how hard I work. I know that the vast majority of those emails are from you and contain the important details of your lives, your families, your hopes, and your dreams. I also know that most of you receive at least that many emails each year and many of you far more.

Before email, none of us received 1/10 of the number of phone calls and letters combined as we do emails today. Email is the greatest time suck ever invented.

Juliet Funt, yes the daughter of Allen Funt of Candid Camera, teaches:

1. Most of us who are working spend 100% of our time on exertion, i.e. doing and 0% of our time on thoughtfulness.
2. We are too busy to become un-busy
3. With ever present screens, TV, computers, phones, pads, game consoles, email, texts, Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, Twitter, WhatsApp, iMessage, and so much more, we have become uncomfortable with The Pause, moments of quiet, moments of reflection.

Ms. Funt reflects that at work we have lost the permission “think the un-thunk thought” and at home,  one day, we will rue the precious moments we miss because we are busy.

She shares a story she heard about a woman who turned down the opportunity to spend the day driving and picnicking with her family. Her spouse and children enjoyed a marvelous day. Two weeks later her spouse died. According to the woman’s daughter, for the rest of her life she repeated: “I didn’t take the ride.” We have all missed at least one drive because we were “too busy”. I am among the worst culprits.

We believe there are forces in this world that compel us to tie ourselves to the ground and not let our spirits and our lives soar. These forces may include our own egos or our image of what makes us important, as well as others. Yes, there are times we need to work, to struggle, to be busy. But, we also need to let go, to pause and allow ourselves the freedom to think, the freedom to grow spiritually.

My friend and colleague, Rabbi Larry Malinger, uses this example: “When we start to fly and are struggling against these forces [eg. gravity and inertia], there is a lot of noise. Sometimes, it is an external noise…. Other times it is an internal noise…. It is true, for the first ‘10,ooo feet” it is hard, it is noisy, you cannot use approved electronic devices, your seat belt must remain fastened…. Then the noise slowly fades and you keep climbing. You can now use electronic devices. Having reached cruising altitude, you can get out of your seat and move around. Nonetheless, turbulence, or other complications [occur] and you will need to refasten your seat belts just to stay safe.”

I love this analogy. Even though the noise fades it is not gone. If you let it, the noise fades into your unconscious until “we begin our descent”. The time between reaching 10,000 feet and beginning our descent is a pause. You allow yourself to simply go along for the ride. You let go of control. True, someone is flying the plane, but it is not you. “The descent” itself is a wonderful metaphor. The plane begins its descent back toward earth just as we, at the end of the pause, return to the busyness of life.

This morning we read of Abraham answering God’s call with the word “הינני, I am here, I am ready to take on the task as awesome or as awful as it may be.” Throughout Torah and the entire Hebrew Bible, our ancestors answered the call with “הינני, I am here, I am ready.”

Mostly, “הינני, I am here, I am ready” responds to an external call; whether the voice of God or, more likely, the alert on our phone. Our ancestors understood the importance of responding to that external call. They also understood the need to respond to the internal call with “הינני I am here, I am ready”. Therefore, they gifted us שבת, the Sabbath, a day of pause, a day to put aside the roar of the engine, the alert of our phone, and take control of our time.

Rabbi Maligner writes: “In a world full of distractions, the proper way to translate ‘Hineni’ today is  ‘I am fully present.’ I am fully present in my life.” Ms. Funt reminds us that the moments of creativity and insight occur when we are fully present and able to create WhiteSpace in which to consciously pause.

Let’s be honest. We all know what happens when we are not fully present, when we do not pause. We crash; we hit the wall; we burn out - pick your metaphor. We get irritable. The important people in our lives feel ignored. We lash out. We do a lousy job. And of course, we are SO much fun to be around.

Think you are different, that you do not need the pause? Think you are superhuman and able to do it all 24/7/365 (or 6)? Our ancestors knew better even if we do not. From its outset, Torah teaches the importance of the pause. Even God, whom Torah saw as omnipotent, took a break after six days spent creating the world. Continuously in Torah, Tanach and Rabbinic Literature, the importance of Shabbat is reiterated over and over and over and over. The Torah, and later the Rabbis, reiterate the punishment for ignoring Shabbat is the ultimate punishment, death. While Torah sets the sentence to be carried out by stoning, we know dying from exhaustion and stress was, and is, more often the cause of death.

As we wrote you earlier this month:

It does not have to be the Shabbat of your great-grandparents. Be creative and daring. Find a way to make Shabbat meaningful for you. A quiet dinner with family or friends, or going for a hike in this incredible place we are blessed to call home. Call friends and family to reconnect and show your caring. The possibilities are endless. This first time experimenting with Shabbat may not open new doors or create a spiritual high. But, perhaps, with time and repetition you may discover things about yourself that can only come to light in the space that Shabbat can provide...Find or create your own way of observing Shabbat. 

Historically the Jewish community observed Shabbat on Friday night and Saturday. My teacher Rabbi Alvin Reines, since he worked every Friday night and Saturday, observed Shabbat on Thursday night and Friday. I do not suggest you follow Rabbi Reines’ example any more than you follow your grandparents’. Find your own path. Draw from the core of our tradition, understand the purpose of Shabbat and revel in the pause. Use the WhiteSpace of Shabbat to center yourself and re-find your creative, introspective true self. Do not be afraid of the descent back to the busyness of life. Your landing will be much smoother because you took the time to pause.

Making time to pause and understanding our priorities allows for the growth of opportunities. Our own personal WhiteSpace of Shabbat helps us to know who we are, and what we are truly meant to do. We can be blessed with the luxury of identifying the path we need to take in life, realizing what is important to us and most important, who is important to us. When we know that, things fall into place.

Find the strength to pause and may you never have to say: “I didn’t take the ride.”

Erev Rosh Hashanah 5778

Rabbi Harry Rosenfeld

Congregation Albert

Albuquerque, New Mexico

For the first time in my rabbinate I have received emails, calls and had conversations with people who were not just curious as to what I was going to speak about during these Holy Days but telling me what I should say about each topic and what I should not mention. What positions I should take and which I should avoid.

I have never shied away from speaking my mind from the bimah - from the pulpit. I appreciate when people who agree with me or disagree with me come to me afterward to share their insights. I have colleagues who will not speak about Israel from the bimah for fear of angering people who may disagree. Others who will not speak about morality or our prophetic tradition for the same reason. That has never been my issue. My struggle has been and continues to be presenting my thoughts in a way that leaves open the possibility of dialog.

I was raised by my Rabbi, Philip Horowitz z”l who received a subpoena to testify before Joseph McCarthy’s House un-American Affairs Committee. Appearing before the committee, he refused to testify. Rabbi Horowitz knew the actions and motivations of the committee’s leadership violated both Jewish ethics and our American value of Liberty and Justice for all.

I was raised in the tradition of Rabbi Joachim Prinz z”l who was a leader in the Civil Rights movement. On August 28, 1963, he spoke just before Martin Luther King gave his “I Have A Dream Speech.” That day Rabbi Prinz spoke these words which were taught to me and ingrained into me

When I was the rabbi of the Jewish community in Berlin under the Hitler regime, I learned many things. The most important thing that I learned under those tragic circumstances was that bigotry and hatred are not the most urgent problem. The most urgent, the most disgraceful, the most shameful and the most tragic problem is silence.

A great people which had created a great civilization had become a nation of silent onlookers. They remained silent in the face of hate, in the face of brutality and in the face of mass murder….

Rabbi Prinz continues:

The time, I believe has come to work together - for it is not enough to hope together, and it is not enough to pray together, to work together…[that] from Maine to California, from North to South, may become, a glorious, unshakeable reality in a morally renewed and united America.

The moral renewal of which Rabbi Prinz spoke was most certainly not the morality of what we do in our bedrooms or the choices we make with regard to our bodies. The moral renewal he yearned for was the coming of fruition of the moral dream of America; Liberty and Justice for all.

For the majority of my life the moral vacuum in our country has been growing. Gone are the days of fighting for liberty for all on the battlefields of Europe and the Pacific. While fighting in the fields of Europe and the shores of the Pacific, our government led at home. First, creating a military integrated and open to all, then, taking on the monumental task of leading the way on civil rights. Voices of opposition were heard but the inherent truth of Liberty and Justice for all dominated and prevailed. However, since the mid-1970’s the voice of opposition to that great American principle has grown and the moral voices have been cowed into a silence of death. Leadership in government, with too few exceptions, and especially on the national level, continues to devolve into a mentality of “I have to win and you have to lose.” And if you disagree with me you are evil”.

The events and the responses to Charlottesville stand as an example of this growing moral vacuum. Nazi marches in our streets began in the 1930’s. In the post WWII years, none were to be seen until the infamous march in Skokie. A location chosen because of its high concentration of Holocaust survivors.

Call it Nazism or white supremacy, they are two sides of the same coin. The march in Charlottesville shows how complacent we have become. First, the Nazi’s in Charlottesville elevated their heinousness by carrying weapons of war. The slogans shouted were modifications of the hate they have always spouted but, the weaponry brought a new level of seriousness. If you think Charlottesville was an anomaly, think again. 

This past Friday night - yes on erev Shabbat, African-American protesters in St. Louis surrounded by police and facing tear gas and rubber bullets, took refuge through the only open door they could find - the door of Central Reform Congregation. Whether or not the congregation should have opened its doors to them is not the issue. Almost immediately a new hashtag appeared on Twitter “gasthesynagogue.” The tweets came not just from radical right wing groups but from the major supplier of the police departments throughout the country.. If you think the business was just trying to sell more tear gas and did not understand the historical reference to the Shoah - the Holocaust, think again.

Charlottesville marked a nadir in American values; St. Louis a new low. At the same time, though, we began to see the pendulum swing back. It was as if America began to awaken from a nightmare filled sleep. Finally, after Charlottesville, led some of our elected officials, the voice of unequivocal condemnation began to rise.

The first voices to be heard were from the national legislative branch: Republican Senators. Men and women who within hours stood up and said: “Not in our America we strive for!” Then slowly, Democratic voices began to come forth with a similar message. But the voices of those in senior leadership of the national executive and legislative branches were silent or at best equivocating. Meanwhile, loud, peaceful shouts filled the streets of our country calling for an elevation of our system toward the goal of liberty and justice for all. These voices rose like a symphony of shofarot calling our nation to repent our 40 year silence and renew the call for liberty throughout the land.

What about we Jews? The literature of our Jewish heritage is unequivocal. In the Book of Esther, when Esther is hesitant about confronting the King, Mordecai says to her (4:14): “If you keep silent in this moment,… you and your father’s house will perish. Who knows, perhaps you have attained this (royal) position for this exact moment.” - If Esther, in a time when women had no rights could stand and speak before the King - who are we to stay silent?

Tractate Berachot says: “In anger God said to Moses in Deuteronomy 9:10: ‘Leave Me be, that I may destroy them’ Moses said to himself: If God is telling me to let Him be, it must be because this matter is dependent upon me. Immediately Moses stood and was strengthened in prayer, and asked that God have mercy on the nation of Israel and forgive them for their transgression.” If Moses could confront God - Who are we to stay silent?

Leviticus 19:18: “Rebuke your neighbor that you may not share in his/her guilt.” If our ancestors were called to confront evil - Who are we to stay silent?

And of course Pirkei Avot 1:14: “Rabbi Hillel used to say: if I am not for me, who will be for me? And when I am for myself alone, what am I? And if not now, when?” - “And if not now, when?” Who are we to stay silent now?

But what is the purpose of ending the silence? In the 6th Century, Avot de Rabbi Natan A, 23, 38a taught: “Who is the most heroic of heroes? One who conquers one’s own inclination to do evil. And some say: one who makes an enemy into a friend.”

The first silence we need to end is the blindness we carry about ourselves. Where do I fall short? To whom do I deny liberty and justice? If your answer is you do not fall short and you do not have your bigotries, then you are blind to yourself and a fool.

The second part of the saying: “makes an enemy into a friend.” cannot be accomplished in silence or with violence. Lowering ourselves to the level of those who try and dehumanize us gives them a victory. Honest, open, peaceful dialog, where all participants listen with open hearts and minds, leads not necessarily to agreement, but to the recognition of a joint commitment to our prime values and ethical standards. Just as we will not be dehumanized, neither shall we sink to that level and dehumanize others. Dehumanization of others builds and reinforces the bigotry and  evil within ourselves.

As my colleague Rabbi Larry Malinger writes: “Many religious traditions promote asceticism, withdrawal from the institutions and activities of the everyday world…. Judaism, however, goes in the opposite direction: our tradition teaches us to embrace argument. Just as God in the story of Creation, creates the world and brings order out of chaos through words, so vibrant human words - debate and discussion - can serve as instruments of creation as well.”

Recently, a number of us refused to be silent. We went to our Senators’ offices to push them to be more vocal and present in their denunciation of hatred and bigotry, to push them to become the leaders standing up for Liberty and Justice for all we need them to be. One of the aides said: “the Senator is concerned about casual racism.” We did not remain silent. The aide heard loud and clear that there is no such thing as “casual racism.” Racism in all its forms demeans both the target of the bigotry and the bigot. Especially in the presence of power we must not remain silent.

We are blessed to live in a city and a state that is better than most. Yet, as we learn over and over, better is not always good. We cannot hide in the shelter of our homes or even this, our Jewish home. It is time to speak.

In 1774, future Revolutionary War soldier and Vermont Congressman, Rev. Nathaniel Niles spoke these words:

If any should say, it is in vain for them as individuals to be vigilant, zealous and firm in pursuing any measures for the security of our rights, unless all would unite: I would reply:

Ages are composed of seconds, the earth of sands, and the sea of drops, too small to be seen by the naked eye. The smallest particles have their influence….each individual has a proportion of influence on some neighbour at least; he, on another, and so on;… We know not what individuals may do. We are not at liberty to lie dormant until we can, at once, influence the whole. We must begin with the weight we have. Should the little springs neglect to flow till a general agreement should take place, the torrent that now bears down all before it, would never be formed. These mighty floods have their rise in single drops from rocks; which, uniting, creep along till they meet with another combination so small that it might be absorbed by the travellers [sic] foot. These unite, proceed, enlarge, till mountains tremble at their sound. Let us receive instruction from the streams,… 

Rabbis Horowitz and Prinz taught me: never be silent. Rev. Niles teaches a word can become a catalyst for change. Torah teaches: only God can create worlds with words. We know our words can change worlds for blessing.

May the words of our mouths blare forth with the power to change ourselves and change the world. כן יהי רצון.

Rosh Hashanah Morning 5777

Growing in Wisdom

The saddest part of this morning’s Torah portion occurs at the end. After nearly slaughtering Isaac, an unrepairable yet understandable rift occurs between father Abraham and, as beginning of the portion calls him, his beloved son. While Isaac survives, the bond between father and son, patriarch and inheritor, is shattered and never again do the two meet in life. It is only with Abraham’s death do his two sons, Isaac and Ishmael, each with his own deep hurt, come together to bury their father.

Abraham ascends Mount Moriah with Isaac but he descends alone. We can only imagine the thoughts and feelings coursing through their hearts. Isaac, obviously feeling betrayed by a father who professed such love for him. We understand and feel his pain. He did not lose his life. He did lose his father.

But what of Abraham? God asked him to do the unthinkable, to kill his son, and then stopping him from performing horrific deed. Abraham knows he has lost Isaac, and I imagine, he feels used and betrayed, by God. Isaac lives but Abraham knows he is lost to him.

What is it they have lost? Isaac lost not just a father but an elder, a mentor. Abraham lost an heir for his life’s experience and wisdom. Would Isaac been able to better navigate through Esau’s and Jacob’s rivalry if he had a respected elder to help guide him. As we age, we seem driven to share our life’s journey and its lessons. Abraham lost that opportunity with Isaac. 

Thinking back in my own life there is so much I wish my father and mother had lived long enough to teach me. I know when I was young and then as a teen they told me things and, more importantly, showed me by example. But, I cannot parse out those particular lessons. After my mother died and I was an adolescent I perfected my eye roll  for whenever my father would yell his lessons at me. (I can still do it, although it’s more subtle when needed.) But by the time I was old enough and ready to learn, he had died and with him his wisdom.

At each stage of life our skills are different. Younger we are imbued with more energy. Older we have less energy but more experience. Younger we dream big dreams. Older we dream but more realistically. Younger we strive more for fun than meaning. Older we strive more for meaning than fun. Younger stress is more debilitating. Older stress is more motivating. Younger we strive for happiness in the moment. Older we strive for prolonged happiness. Younger we work to build memories. Older we still work to build memories but we worry about how much longer we will have them. Younger we work to acquire. Older we work toward Erik Erikson’s 7th stage of life - generativity, instead of working to acquire, we begin to invest outward.

Barbara Bradley Hegarty in her book Life Reimagined: The Science, Art and Opportunity of Midlife writes: “If you want a healthy glow and a happy midlife, here’s a secret. Give it away: your time, your money, whatever is at your disposal, give it to someone else. Especially your time. Volunteering prolongs your life. It makes you happier and spares you depression. And heart attacks. It helps you stay sober, and boosts your immune system. It cures burnout. It fires up your dopamine system, giving you chemical rewards. It lowers your stress level and reduces chronic pain. It gives you purpose in life.”

But developing wisdom does not have to wait until we are in midlife. Some people are old souls when they are young. In the mid 1990’s a 12 year old girl came to me with her mother and told me she wanted to convert to Judaism. We talked about the whys and hows. I told her that we would welcome her full participation in the community but that her conversion would have to wait until she was older. She was wise enough to know what she wanted and was willing to wait. She entered our school of Jewish studies, participated in NFTY, began introducing Shabbat and holy days into her family’s life. Three years later her family moved and I never knew whether she followed through or not.

A few years ago she tracked me down and asked me to do her wedding. At 25 she formally converted. She became a pharmacist and joined the army. We made the arrangements and I flew in to do the wedding. A year later, in her early 30’s she left active duty and entered the reserves so she could go to medical school. A few months ago I saw this on her Facebook page:

“Alright. Screw it. Let's do this! Taking a leap of faith and consciously constructing a life I love. Big deep breaths.”

I PM’d her (that’s is Facebook speak for sent her a private message) and asked what that meant. This was her response:

“when I returned to the US  I linked up with a primary care doc to shadow. Actually my husband’s doc since he was young. Great doc, great guy. Was shadowing him for awhile when we had a serious talk. The gist of his message was "I absolutely believe you can get into med school, and would make a fantastic physician. However being a physician (and putting medicine first) ruined my first marriage. You have to think about what you and your husband want". 

So my husband and I had a really long honest talk. And we both decided we didn't get married to spend the next 10 years apart (between med school and residency). And that we wanted to start having a family soon. I've experienced too many lost family members in life to think work is the end all be all, life is too short for that.”

Here is an example of wisdom passed on in the best way; through conversation and questions, not with thou shalt, or thou shalt not or even thou should.

Isaac, his father no longer available to him and his mother dead needed, like many of us, to find others to mentor us, advise us, and help us continue our growth. Reading the stories about the rest of his life, I doubt he did.

At each stage of life we draw upon the wisdom passed down to us when we were younger and new wisdom we gain from are own life experiences and others’ life experiences. Recently someone asked me if rabbinic school taught me how to be a rabbi. When I finished laughing I replied: “rabbinic school made me a rabbi. My rabbi growing up, my senior rabbi in my first pulpit, my older colleagues, years of experience, and to this day my rabbinic coach are still teaching me how to be a rabbi.”

I could say the same about life. My parents gave me life but they, Michele, and all the other important people in my life plus the wisdom I’ve gained through studying those who came before me and my actual life experiences taught me how to live.

Judaism teaches us how to gain wisdom, how to learn to live well with one seemingly simple phrase - קני לך חבר – acquire for you self a חבר. The Hebrew word חבר has 3 different meanings and in this phrase they are all present. The 3 meanings are:

1) A teacher - find someone or a few teachers who can convey to you the wisdom you need to thrive and to grow.

2) A friend - a true friend whose love is unconditional and who you trust at the deepest level to always tell you the truth, even when the truth hurts. And you know what they tell you comes from a place of kindness and love so that you can both grow. And 

3) A magician - people who can help you transform from and into each stage of life. From childhood to adolescence. From adolescence to young adulthood to adulthood to middle age to becoming an elder in your own right. Even with the teacher of wisdom and the true friend we still need a bit of magic to combine it all into a successful life.

May this year be for you a year of wisdom, filled with teachers, friendship and magic.

כן יהי רצין - So may it be God’s will. Shanah Tovah.

Erev Rosh Hashanah Sermon - 5777

And The Stairs Came Tumbling Down

Today marks a milestone in our congregation’s history. For the first time, with this lift, our bema is accessible to all who want to ascend it. From now on, anyone who is leading part of our service can literally make aliyah - they can come up and lead our prayers or bless the Torah in the same space as everyone else. The portability of the lift allows us to move it to the chapel, our only other non-accessible space. Stairs are no longer a barrier as they have been for millennia all the way back to the days of Solomon’s temple. And, God willing, by next Rosh Hashanah we will have a ramp from this level all the way up to the ark.

This lift both literally and figuratively shows us how many מדרגות - how many stairs have served as a barrier to people being able to fully participate in our worship. The מדרגות we remove with this lift are not the first barriers to be lowered to allow more people to fully participate in Jewish worship, nor will they be the last.

In the time of the patriarchs only the head of the family could build altars and offer sacrifices. Jacob built several. Isaac offered sacrifices at the altars Abraham built and Abraham - tomorrow morning we will read of him being willing to offer the ultimate sacrifice, his son on an altar he built. As was the custom at the time, those altars were built atop high places. In addition to the patriarch of the family being the sole practitioner of sacrifices, to worship one had to climb a hill. If the patriarch lived long enough he would have been unable to make the climb and the responsibility would pass to the head of the next generation or not be done at all.

As we left Egypt, traveled the Sinai, conquered Canaan and established our own kingdom, we developed a broader cadre of men who could lead worship, a clan in the tribe of Levi, the Cohanim - the priests. Whether we learned to create a priesthood from the Egyptians or the Midianites in the Sinai, or the people of Canaan, matters not. God designated, or we delegated to the Cohanim the right and the obligation to perform our sacrifices and rituals. Perhaps because of the Golden Calf where the Israelites panicked during Moses’ long absence and demanded a pagan ritual to keep them safe, or we simply emulated those around us, this system of the Cohanim, priests, broadened the numbers of those who could fully participate in the worship while still restricting it. And where did the Cohanim eventually perform these rituals? At the altar in the Temple which was built on a high place and elevated further by being placed on a platform. Torah specifically talks about the priests having to wear special clothing so as the climbed the מדרגות - stairs they would maintain their modesty as the Israelites below looked up at them.

With the destruction of the first Temple those exiled to Babylon had no Temple and thus no particular need for a priesthood. They established the synagogue as the place of prayer. Who led the service was not determined by familial right but rather only those men who proved themselves capable of creating this new form of worship led the prayers. Another stair came down.

Returning from Babylon the rebuilt Temple and the synagogue existed side by side. But while the Temple entrenched itself in the old priesthood, the synagogue expanded who could fully participate in worship. Now no special training was needed. The service coalesced and when the second Temple was destroyed, the synagogue survived. Openness survived and thrived. Even Maimonides himself hoped the priesthood would never be reestablished. Another stair is removed.

Through subsequent centuries the system remained the same until the Reform Movement decried separate seating. Our founders declared that women, men and children could all sit and pray together. Slowly, very slowly women began leading prayers in public. First candle lighting and then more. In 1922 Judith Kaplan was the first woman to celebrate becoming Bat Mitzvah in a public service. Eighty one years ago Regina Jonas became the first woman we have a record of being ordained as a rabbi. In 1972, Sally Priesand became the first woman ordained as a rabbi in America and in 1975 Barbara Ostfeld became the first woman known to have been formally invested as a cantor. The barrier was broken and another stair fell away.

In the 1980’s the Reform Movement began ordaining lesbians and gay men as rabbis and cantors. Certainly gay men and lesbians had been ordained for centuries. But they had to remain closeted, hidden like Jews trying to avoid the Inquisition. Open ordination felled another barrier and more מדרגות were removed. A few years ago the first trans rabbi was ordained and another stair disappeared.

During these past few decades we chipped away the מדרגות that kept non-Jewish partners of Jews out of the synagogue and off the Bema. You men and women who bless us by your commitment to raise Jewish children now stand by your children as they enter religious school, celebrate becoming Bar or Bat Mitzvah, and rejoice with them under the Chupah.

And now, in our synagogue another 3 מדרגות have literally been jackhammered out, and everyone can access our Bema, lead prayers and bless Torah where all can see.

 Yes, this lift is not pretty. Yes, it is noisy. But for now that is good. Because every time it is used, we will see and hear it allowing someone who could not previously ascend to do so. This lift will remind us of how far we have come and challenge us to remove the מדרגות that still remain.

How appropriate it is that we dedicate this lift on Rosh Hashanah - our new year, our time of reflection. A time we look back to see how far we have come as people and Jews as well as how far we have yet to grow.

LISTS - Rosh Hashanah Morning 5772

LISTS

Congregation Albert

Rosh Hashanah Morning 5772

Just about everyone I know loves lists: Some a Letterman top 10 list, some a shopping list and some lists of records and achievements. I love to keep a to do list so I can cross things out as I finish them. The feelings I get of taking my pen and drawing a line through something I’ve done, or decided not to do…

Each year, these ימים נוראים, these Days of Awe bring us the perfect opportunity to make our lists. The Hebrew word for list - רשימה literally means a recording. During these Days of Awe, we use the metaphor of our names being recorded in the Book of Life for the coming year. As children we picture God looking at that list and being perfect having no need to check it twice. We each keep our own lists of the highs and lows of our lives. Where we exceded, succeeded or failed. 

Our texts and liturgy are replete with lists. Torah contains numerous lists: the 10 Commandments, Leviticus 19 - the holiness code which we will read on Yom Kippur, and let’s not forget the oh so exciting and endless genealogies! This morning we read the most awesome of lists in all our liturgy, the ונתנה טקף - who shall live and who shall die, who by fire and who by water, who by sword and who by beast.

Doing my summer reading in preparation for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur I came across two lists that intrigued me. I debated back and forth over which list to use as my theme for this morning until I settled on the list referred to me by Rabbi Hillel Cohn and composed by Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, the Chief Rabbi of Great Britain in his newly released מחזור - High Holy Day prayerbook. In the introduction to Rosh Hashanah he asks the questions: “What then does Rosh Hashanah say to us? Of what is it a reminder? How can it transform our lives?” In response he lists 9 ways Rosh Hashanah can transform us. Here they are with my take on them.

1. Life is short. 

My teacher Rabbi Alvin Reines taught that the definition of religion is how we human beings react to being finite. Of all the ways we are finite, the limits of our life span is the most profound. The ונתנה טקף emphasizes the fragility of life. Infants and children die much too soon. Even those who survive the Psalm’s “threescore years and ten or by reason of strength fourscore years” or even more are felt to have died too soon. We lament those whose productive lives are cut short by the failure of their bodies or mind while they still breathe. We may feel their living goes on too long but if we had our druthers, we would love for them to have lived longer as we once knew them.

On the other hand, the finitude of our lives brings profound goodness. Rabbi Joshua Loth Liebman wrote in 1946 as paraphrased in Gates of Prayer: “Mortality is the tax that we pay for the privilege of love, thought, creative work… Just because we are human, we are prisoners of the years. Yet that very prison is the room of discipline in which we, driven by the urgency of time, create.”

2. Life itself, each day, every breath we take, is the gift of God. Life is not something we may take for granted.

Because of the fragility of life we need to be appreciative of having it. Even when life presents us with the greatest of challenges, serious illness, the death of a loved one, the loss of self sufficiency, remembering the blessing of life itself helps us not only have hope, not only survive the pain or indignity, it leads us, even at our lowest moments, to dare to thrive.

3. We are free. Judaism is the religion of the free human being freely responding to the God of freedom.

Whether by nurture, nature or the intervention of other people, there are times when everyone feels restrained. Sometimes the shackles are literally forged from iron and at other times they are placed on our wrists and feet by our experiences and the impact those experiences have had upon our sense of self.

Yet God has given us the ultimate freedom - that of free will. While circumstance may impede the number of choices and chances before us, we freely choose how to respond to them. Joshua and Caleb stood against the other 10 spies sent into Canaan and insisted that our ancestors could prevail against all odds. The Jews of Spain, faced with the choice of conversion, death or exile left their homes and spread the beauty and depth of Sephardic culture through the rest of the Jewish world. In early America, colonists stood up to a king with the most powerful army in the world. In the ghettos and camps, at Sobibor and every other death camp in Europe, many maintained their humanity and some physically rebelled against the oppression. From the streets of Birmingham and Biloxi to Stonewall in New York City, the oppressed and victims of racism, hate and discrimination stood up and said “no more.”

They and so many others were infinitely more free than most of us in America who simply bemoan the state of our country and our world.

4. Life is meaningful. We are not mere accidents of matter, generated by a universe that came into being for no reason and will, for no reason, cease to be.

Each person’s life, no matter how long or how short, how blessed or how hard, has meaning and purpose. The challenge for us is to accept we may never know what that meaning and purpose may be. There are few Moses’ or Mandelas. For the rest of us the purpose and meaning of our life may lie in a simple glance at another person who needs acknowledgment or a caring word or touch that alleviates a measure of someone else’s pain.

5. Life is not easy. Judaism does not see the world through rose-tinted lenses. And

6.Life may be hard, but it can still be sweet.

Everyone’s life contains challenges: some existential, some practical, some just require hard work. The longer I live, the more I understand that every life contains challenges and every achievement requires hard work. Nothing is solely gained by luck. How many are born into privilege and still know pain and hardship? How many born into the most squalid of places or abusive of families worked their way up and out?

We cannot control what life throws at us, we can only choose how we face whatever life offers.

7. Our life is the single greatest work of art we will ever make.

The art of our lives is never finished. It is not to be sheltered away in a museum. With each action we add to the canvass of life the symphonic score that makes up the universe. Each action impacts and changes the world. The beauty or ugliness of our actions determines the kind of art we create.

One of the greatest artists of life I know has both physical challenges and Down’s Syndrome. One day he and his father were driving and he started screaming: “Stop the car! Stop the car!” His father quickly pulled over and before his father could stop him, the young man jumped out of the car, pulled of his coat and gloves and ran over to a homeless man and handed them to him. His father now carries extra coats and gloves in the car for his son to give away. Could there be more beautiful art?

8. We are what we are because of those who came before us.

Cantor Doug Cotler wrote these words:

I’m standing on the shoulders of the ones who came before me
Today my life is full of choice
Because a young man raised his voice
Because a young girl took a chance
I am freedom’s choice inheritance
Years ago they crossed the sea
They made a life that’s come to me
So in the garden I’ll plant a seed
A tree of life for you to read
The fruit will ripen in the sun
The words will sound when I am gone
These are the things I pass along
The fruit, the Book and the song
I’m standing on the shoulders of the ones who came before me

As Cantor Cotler rightly points out, not only were our lives shaped by the choices made by those who came before us, we need to remember that those who come after us stand on our shoulders, inheriting the world we leave them.

9. We are heirs to another kind of greatness too, that of the Torah itself and its high demands, its strenuous ideals, its panoply of mitzvot, its intellectual and existential challenges.

We live in a time when the rejection of obligation defines the generations. We see this in politics, in tzedakah, in affiliation rates with organizations of all kinds. Yet, rejection of obligation is antithetical to Judaism and Jewish ethics. Judaism demands and our covenant with God requires that we strive to meet head on the challenges that life and the world present to us. Why observe Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur if we do not feel the obligation to be a part of this community, if we do not feel the demand God puts upon us to move closer to the ideal of perfecting ourselves and the world?

Thus concludes Rabbi Sacks’ list. What is on your list that allows Rosh Hashanah to transform your life for the better?

In the Hebrew dictionary, רשימה - list falls between the Hebrew words רשות – permitted and רשע - evil. It is my prayer for all of us this year that we refer back to the רשימות lists we made for these Holy Days so that we may keep on track and balance between that which is - רשות, permitted and that which is - רשע evil so that this Rosh Hashanah has the power to transform our lives.

A Treasured People - Treasuring People Erev Rosh Hashanah 5772

עם סגולה

A TREASURED PEOPLE - TREASURING PEOPLE

Congregation Albert

Erev Rosh Hashanah 5772

Rabbi Harry Rosenfeld

In the book of Genesis chapter 4 Cain  rises up and kills his brother Abel.  God punishes Cain in verse 11 “and now cursed be you from the ground which has opened her mouth to take your brother’s blood from your hand; when you till the ground it shall not continue to give unto you her strength. A vagabond and a wanderer shall you be on the earth.” Cain’s response: “my punishment is greater than can be borne.

I always wondered why Cain felt this punishment was too great. It is not as if God punished him with death or incarcerated him forever, which would be the way we today handle murders. Was Cain so upset that God had punished him by making it harder for him to farm? Or, was Cain upset that he would be “community-less” a wanderer forever?

For me the answer to this question lies in Genesis chapter 2 verse 18. “It is not good that a person should be alone.” While most commentators understand that God is saying human beings need a partner to help them with the mundane tasks of the world, S’forno the great Italian Kabbalist and commentator of the 16th century, has a different understanding of the text. He says: “the end implicit in being created in God’s likeness and image would not be achieved if you would have to devote yourself on your own to supplying your daily needs.” In other words, to be a complete human being, wholly formed in the image of God, we need community. When we are without community we are alone, spiritually imperfect.

Judaism has always recognized this need to be in community in order to reach our full spiritual potential. That is why I prefer the description of Judaism as a faith-family. As much as we are a religious entity, we are also a community with deep familial ties. It is why when Jews are in trouble Israel is threatened, regardless of our differences, we unite as a single community. In my generation alone we witnessed the rescue of Soviet and Ethiopian Jewry, as well as the welcoming of thousands upon thousands of Jewish refugees and immigrants into both the United States and Israel. Once these refugees landed on our shores and arrived in our communities we did not stop but rather both here in the States and in Israel we worked hard to integrate them into the very fabric of our communities.

These familial ties are why Jews rarely, almost never, live a monastic lifestyle. Instead we form congregations like this one.  The Hebrew word for congregation is קהילה literally meaning community.  In fact, in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, many congregations added the words קהילה קדושה –  holy or sacred congregation before their actual name in recognition that gathering together as a community has the potential to add an extra measure of holiness we cannot find on our own.

True, some of an individual’s most powerful spiritual moments come when he or she is alone. In fact one of my great pleasures is to sit on my back porch, look at the stars and feel my small place in the universe. Many of my most sincere prayers have been uttered either when I have been alone or during silent meditation in a congregational service. But that Silent prayer occurs while being a part of, not apart from, my congregation and therefore dwarfs even the power of looking at the stars. Both Torah and the prophets bear out the importance and power of being alone. Moses at the burning bush and  Elijah hearing the still small voice while alone in the desert exist to teach us: we can find God on our own. But both Moses and Elijah understood the need to be in the company of others to complete their spiritual journeys and effect the transformation of our people. Both Moses and Elijah needed others to exist fully in the image of God and in turn were able to bring their communities the opportunity to exist fully in the image of God.

Connected through a shared history and tradition, we Jews bound ourselves as a family at Sinai answering God’s call to join with God in ברית - in Covenant. ָAt that moment we accepted as a matter of faith and obligation that we exist with God in partnership. God began the creation of the world, set it in motion and gave us the free will to take up and keep up our end of the partnership, לתקין עולם במלכות שדי - to finish the work of creation and bring our world closer to perfection.

What does it mean to be a Jew in a covenantal partnership with God? To use biblical language, when God finished the work of creation on the 6th day it was only very good, not perfect. God left some “unfinished business” for us to complete. All faith traditions have their own relationship with God but partnering with God to ensure that captives know freedom, those who lack have access to the resources to meet their needs and, as the Union Prayerbook put it so eloquently, we “lift up those who sleep in the dust.”

No one of us alone can complete the sacred work. It is only by gathering together as a קהילה קדושה, a sacred community, that we have even the slightest hope of being able to fulfill our obligation to each other and to God. As we look around us and see members of our own congregation in need, growing poverty in our community and continuing oppression and environmental threats to our world we understand just how daunting the challenge of completing the unfinished business God left for us. 

Tonight marks the beginning of our 115th year as a  congregation. One way to express the number 115 in Hebrew is by using the letters ה ע מ. Together these letter spell the Hebrew word העם-the people. This will be a year in which we celebrate our existence as a congregation and as a community. Congregation Albert has a long and proud history of being a community. From our earliest days 115 years ago our founders understood that in forming a sacred community they brought themselves closer to fulfilling the potentiality of the divine image in each other as individuals. Coming together in prayer, in times of personal need, and in reaching out to make this community, our country, and the world a better place they left us an inheritance that challenges us to animate the divine in ourselves by doing the sacred work of God’s unfinished business.

In more recent times we have seen the development of some Chavurot and our caring community committee which reaches out to  members of our Congregational family in their times of need. As I have met members of our current Chavurot I see how they have become in every sense of the word family. Even those who were strangers before they joined a Chavurah now have a sense  they are members of an extended family. Since the initial development of our Chavurot many of us are new to the congregation. That is why you received a brochure with your high holy day mailing describing our effort to expand this incredible opportunity to make our congregation more of a community and our community more of a family.

In a similar vein, our caring community committee does amazing work. They visit the homebound and sick, help provide rides for the high holy days, are a support to those in morning, and touch your lives in more ways than I have time to list tonight. But they and we need more help. As hard as they work, and I am in awe of how hard they work, and as many people as they serve in our community their work only scratches the surface. If you are willing to help with their sacred task or know of members of our community who could use our help please please let us know. The members of this committee deserve our deepest thanks and need our continued commitment and help.

But as I indicated before, God’s unfinished business does not stop at the doors of the sanctuary, this building or on the doorsteps of our homes. Our obligation in continual partnership with God demands that we reach beyond ourselves into the larger community around us. IHN, Project Share, the TASTY food drive and our other projects help us partially fulfill this mission. But the needs are endless. What do you do to help complete our world? What do you want to do but cannot do alone? Do you need help fixing the broken parts that keep you up at night?

I am honored and blessed that you called me to be the rabbi of this קהילה קדושה that understands so well the inherent blessing of being a community. And so I make this commitment to you: If you come to me with an idea, a desire, a need which is appropriate for us as a Jewish congregation, and you are willing to give of your time to make it a reality, we will give you every level of support we can. Our future is limited only by our vision. Our future is limited only by our commitment to see our dreams come true. We have seen this work over and over again. Congregation Albert has a solid tradition in facilitating the fulfillment of dreams. Most recently a few people decided our congregation needed to be more environmentally friendly and thus the Green Team began to gather and has begun a process that will culminate in reducing our carbon footprint. From our recycling bins to the changing of light bulbs our transformation has begun. Whatever you see as needing fixing in this world I guarantee other members of our congregation see as well. Let us help you find them. Working together with others from our faith-family not only multiplies your impact on our world but, as S’forno points out, helps animate the divine in you. Our human and divine power resides not in ourselves alone but rather in harnessing the קדושת הקהילה – the sacred soul of our congregational community.

Our task is to help you make your Jewish dreams come true, and thus create a Kehillah Kedoshah, a holy Congregation spreading its welcoming and sheltering wings around all who choose to enter, so that all who look upon us will be able to see you spiritual growth and go beyond God's words: “It is very good!”