Health Care Reform - Debate or Fanaticism

It is almost like group hysteria. A barrage of misinformation and hate spewed instead of rational debate. Regardless of how one feels about a particular health care proposal, we have to deal in facts not fanaticism.

Here is one article to help with the discussion.

5 Myths About Health Care Around the World

The Forward - August 28, 2009

There are three interesting articles in this weeks Forward. Two of them deal with Siddurim (prayerbooks) and how they reflect our Judaism.

The other is a fascinating article entitled: Your Father is Dead and My Pot Roast is Ruined: Reflections on the Torah of "Six Feet Under". What drew me to the article was the title (I was a major fan of "Six Feet Under". However, as I read it, the author Noach Dzmura helped me understand that the requests I receive from more and more families concerning the funerals of their loved ones, may seem odd on the surface. In reality come from a deep place of trying to respect and honor their beloved dead thus fulfilling our Jewish value of Kavod Hamet - honoring the dead.

Chautauqua Reflections - 2010

Written August 14, 2009


This, my 9th summer in residence at the Chautauqua Institution has felt very different, even awkward to me and I have struggled to figure out the reasons. My first thought was that Michele joined me here for the first week instead of our norm which would be my second week here. As most people who know me will attest, I do not do well with change in patterns. I believe another part of the difference is due to my having to make 3 round trips back home to Buffalo. And of course, the death of a good friend contributed as well. Other possibilities are out there but I believe they are minor.

This morning Anna Deavere Smith spoke on creativity. For those of you who are not familiar with her performances, she is perhaps best known for her work as the National Security Advisor on "West Wing" and now stars in the series "Nurse Jackie". She postulated that we we are taught that we need peaceful, supportive settings to foster our creativity as well as good mentors. Yet, in reality, we are most creative when we are not comfortable, when we feel in a place of vulnerability, are alone and feel a lack of safety.

This year, Chautauqua has been for me a place of non-comfort, or even ill-ease. Perhaps that is why for the first time in many years, I am well ahead on my preparation for my High Holy Day sermons.

Discomfort, though, is a relative term. It seems obscene to even consider not being at peace and serene here. I have always had some of these feelings here, but this year they seem to be deeper.

When I look around at the homogeny of the faces, I feel as I did when I attended my first pro ball game in a major West Coast city. Having grown up in Cleveland, the faces in the stadium seemingly represented every race and nation. At that game on the West Coast, everyone looked like me. It was odd. That same sense infuses me here.

It also exists here on a deeper level. A colleague whom I first met outside of Chautauqua is here. A former military chaplain, he is now the pastor of a church here on the grounds. The Chautauquan Daily (the Institution's daily paper) listed him as teaching a course on Christian views on violence. Given his experience as a Chaplain, I felt that it would be a different perspective than what I normally hear here at Chautauqua. His presentation was masterful. He was able to present an honest overview of Christian tradition, which like all religious traditions has inspired violence internally and externally. It was masterful because it was honest, complete and yet did not alienate the majority of the listeners for whom, based on the comments and questions, pacifism is not only the ideal but seems heroic. When even a hint of dissent from another listener began to peek through, the other listeners were quick to decry the dissent and at times even actively condemn those who might hold a different view. And while I agreed with much of what the listeners were saying, the room became so stifling to me that I could not bring myself to return for more sessions.

As I wrote above, I don't deal well with changes in patterns, however, too much sameness wears on me as well.

On the other hand, as I write this I sit on the UCC porch listening to the Chautauqua Symphony Orchestra play beautifully. The air is not too warm and what could be more serene. Shabbat services were filled with spirit and peace. The M family, as always, has provided a home for me here. Seeing their grandchildren growing and maturing, their mother celebrating a 98th birthday and the fulfillment of one of their dreams for Chautauqua come true, warms my heart. The time Michele was here was warm and connected. So I do feel blessed, not only here but in my life as a whole. Even the ill-ease I have felt in my time here is a blessing through the inspiration it has brought to the surface.

My Commentary on Parashat Pinchas for United Jewish Communities

Our Parsha this week begins (Numbers 25:10 - 13):

God spoke to Moses, saying, “Pinchas, son of Eleazar son of Aaron the priest, has turned back My wrath from the Israelites by displaying among them his passion (Keena) for Me, so that I did not wipe out the Israelite people in My passion (Keenati). Say, therefore, ‘I grant him My pact of Peace (Brit Shalom). It shall be for him and his descendants after him a pact of priesthood for all time, because he took impassioned (Keena) action for his God, thus making expiation for the Israelites.’”

We remember from the end of last week’s Parsha that Pinchas' passion led him to kill the Israelite Zimri who was flaunting his relationship with the Midianite Cozbi in front of the Tent of Meeting. This occurs just after God ordered the killing of the Israelite men who had been led astray to worship Baal Peor by some Moabite women.

We often refer to Pinchas' passion as zealousness and our text has God rewarding Pinchas for taking up God's passion/anger at the idolatry of the Israelites. In this sense Pinchas acted from his understanding that at our essence we are created in the image of God and thus we must act "godly". If God ordered the killing of the Israelite men for idolatry, Pinchas could kill Zimri and Cozbi.

We are not comfortable with zealousness, especially religious zealousness. Everyday we read of killing and oppression "in God's name." While our rabbis expected halachic observance and loyalty to God, they too understood the danger of religious zealousness to the human soul.

God's promise to Pinchas that the priesthood would flow from his line comes to fruition at the end of the book of Joshua as he takes over the office of the High Priest from his father Eleazar. He serves in that role throughout the book of Judges and held office following the victory of Jepthah. Jepthah promised to sacrifice the first thing that came out of his home upon his return from victorious battle. We know it was his daughter that came out to greet him and ends up as the sacrifice. In Bereishit Rabbah 60:3 the rabbis condemn Jepthah for his lack of foresight and his arrogance. He could have approached the High Priest, our very same Pinchas, and asked him to annul his vow but instead said: "Am I, the chief of Israel's leaders, to go to Pinchas!". Of course, as High Priest, Pinchas could have gone to Jepthah and offered to annul the vow. They write: "Pinchas, however, said: He needs me, and I am to go to him! Moreover, I am a High Priest and the son of a High Priest; shall I then go to an ignoramus?" The rabbis go on to say that it was at that moment of refusal to act in mercy that God withdraws from Pinchas and Jepthah is condemned to die a horrible death. Of course, Jepthah's daughter, who both Pinchas and Jepthah see as being so insignificant she remains nameless in the text, is the one sacrificed.

Pinchas in his zealousness to act "Godly" began to think of himself as "god-like". He only remembered the part of God's blessing that "elevated" him to the office of High Priest. Pinchas allowed his zealousness and hubris to forget the other part of the gift from God - the Brit Shalom. As leaders in the Jewish community we need to remember that we carry an awesome (in its original sense) responsibility. We need to strive to reclaim the Brit Shalom by setting aside our self perception as being "god-like" and risk sacrificing those who count on us most. By rejecting being “god-like” for being godly, we ensure that all those in our community, from the lowest to the highest, also find their Brit Shalom with God.

Mah Nishtanah Hashanah Hazot - Why is this year different from all other years?

Twenty-eight years ago, my fellow rabbinic students stood on the lawn of Hebrew Union College in Cincinnati and did the ritual of Birkat Hachamah - the Blessing of the Sun - a ritual Jews do every 28 years to mark the moment that, it is said, the sun is in the same position God placed it at creation. Twenty-eight years ago I did the ritual because it seemed unique, cool and the thing to do. This year I stood upon my deck as the sun rose reciting the blessing and surrounding readings with a different sense. This year I felt a sense of awe, appreciation and gratitude.

The difference? I knew that as soon as I completed the ceremony I was heading to the airport to fly to D.C. to have seder with friends and fly back the next morning. There I stood, living in freedom, able to stand outside and do a "strange" Jewish ceremony, then "jet set" to D.C. to celebrate Pesach our festival of freedom. Not only is it special to have the freedom to worship openly as a Jew or live in a time where technology enables me to travel hundreds of miles in an hour, but to be able to afford to travel to be with friends this year of all years is truly special a special gift.

I think that is why I not only did Birkat Hachamah with a deeper spirit but why I am counting the Omer for the first time ever. Counting the Omer always seemed to me to be an anachronism. First, we have calendars and do not need to pile up sheaves of wheat to remind us how many days are left before we celebrate Shavuot. Second, I've never grown wheat or lived anywhere I could grow winter wheat. Yet this year it I am finding a new sense of meaning in marking the passing of each day as we move toward celebrating the Revelation at Sinai.

Again, I believe counting the Omer for me is an expression of appreciation. While I have never subscribed to the thinking that in order to appreciate the good one needs to experience lack. However, it seems to me this year that focusing on our ancestors creating a way to mark time that uses one of their precious resources feels right. I also seem more conscious, more aware of the approach of Shavuot. I do not know what happened at Mount Sinai. I do not know if it even occurred. But the underlying sense of being in partnership with God and thanking God for allowing us to share in the bounty of the earth and find a path that leads us through our actions to a deeper sense of self and spirituality feels powerful this year.