Lose Fear

Friends.

That is what and who we call upon when desperate and in need, friends.

We may be separated by distance, but we are still one family. We celebrate and weep together. Even if we do not know every face or name we know that we are inextricably connected.

We mourn the more than 100,000 deaths in our country today. We have been attacked by a microscopic enemy that is wily and chooses as its victims the weak. It is an insidious enemy we continue to combat.

Today we reflect and mourn for the many lives that have been claimed by the Covid-19. The loss is great and our hearts grieve for the families who never got that last kiss of farewell.

Now as we reach for air, we find there is none. “I can’t breathe” has become more than the last words of a dying young man. It has become our gasping for the air of equality, the eradication of hatred, the hope that America can become the beacon of light to the world and an end to bigotry, quenching the fires of hatred that burn in our cities and country tonight.

Enshrined on the Statute of Liberty are the words, “Give me your tired, your wretched refuse yearning to breathe….” This is what we need to relearn; that the breath of every human being is invaluable. Regardless of skin hue or color of uniform our breath cannot return to us until we learn to reclaim it through justice. Justice for all.

Quoting the prophet Micah, Abraham Joshua Heschel said, “He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?”

It is past time to speak out against wrongs, demonizations and prejudice. Micah spoke those words almost three thousand years ago.

Heschel went on to say, “An act of injustice is condemned, not because the law is broken, but because a person has been hurt. What is the image of a person? A person is a being whose anguish may reach the heart of God.”

The anguish we feel pains God. I ask every member of our congregation tonight to pray for the dead and work for the living. Give a moment to say kaddish for the 100,000 and then speak up against prejudice. It is evil. And the only way it will die is if we refuse to be silent when it speaks.

There is much work to be done but if we are truly one family, we can make it happen. Don't lose hope. Lose fear.

The Who

These past months have given us ample opportunity to consider and re-think our lives.  Hopefully, we have reflected on the meaning of our relationships, our work, our spiritual selves and perhaps we have set new objectives and priorities in our lives as a result of this thoughtful deliberation.  If this has happened, or if we are still in mid-process of reassessing our priorities, we have used this time of confinement wisely.  After all, what is pain, if not an opportunity to change and grow?

Shlomo Carlebach reminded us that there are two essential questions that we can ask of one another.  The first is “what” and the second is “who.”  What is the difference between the two questions?

When we ask, “What are you?” the answer is usually something like “I am a nurse.”  Or “I am a businessperson.”  “I work for the labor department.”  Or “I am Jewish.”  “I am Methodist.”  These responses elicit a positive or negative reaction.  If we approve of how they define themselves we let them know in spoken or nonverbal ways – either with a look of disapproval or word of positive engagement.  

The “what” question does not get to the heart of the identity of the other.  It only wants to categorize the person; put a label on them.  Once we have successfully labeled them we know where to put them on the hierarchy of importance.  This person is good because they have such-and-such skills.  This person has little value as anyone could do what they do.

When we want to know the “who” of our brother or sister, it means we want to understand them; what do they value, what are their needs, soul to soul.  Once we connect to the “who” of a person we can build strong, deep and healthy relationships.  

“What” does not build.  It does not heal the wounded.  It does not give tzedaka.  Only the “who” does these things.  The “who” repairs” hurt feelings; it feeds the hungry, it visits the sick, it nourishes relationships.

An observation from a hitchhiker: When you have a short distance to travel and need a ride people generally do not want to give you a ride.  But a driver who passed by a hitchhiker long before and did not bother to stop has a nagging conscience that they could have helped someone but did not.  So, they are the only likely person to pick up the lone traveler.  Their guilt is assuaged.

Each day we have the opportunity to see others as a “what” (a means to fulfill our needs) or a “who” which enables us to see the deepest levels of another human being and thus do mitzvahs as we see others for who they really are.  This is Torah.  When you read and learn Torah you understand the profound way in which we are called to see other people.  Do not miss the opportunity every person represents.

I pray that this time of the pandemic has not only made it possible for us to reassess our values but readjust the way in which we see everyone else as a “who.”  If so, this period of solitude has been well worth it.

In the Midst of the Virus

Send us health God.

There is so much that we need.

One the masters, Rebbe Elimelech was asked, “In Torah it says that Pharaoh told Moshe and Aharon, “Show a wonder for you.”  Why would Pharaoh say such a thing?  Pharaoh ought to have said, “Show a wonder to me.”

Elimelech answered that he said this, “because you have to first believe.”

There is much wonder in the world.  People are working day and night to find a cure for this virus or alleviate the pain of those who are suffering.  Truckloads of food are being delivered to the hungry everywhere across the nation and globe.  Acts of kindness abound on an unprecedented level.  Prayers houses are shuttered but people are participating in prayer services in numbers not seen in decades.

We feel like an endangered species.  We are in this together and instead of scraping for morsels we are opening doors for one another.  We are calling our friends, neighbors, and estranged relatives to find out if they are alright or if they need anything.  The coronavirus has given us an unexpected gift, a new perspective on life, a newfound appreciation of the air we breathe, the flowers that are in full bloom and the smiles that crinkle the faces of strangers.

At times, you may feel desperate and alone – watching the daily news can bring on depression --in being quarantined but you are not alone.  That is the wonder of it all.  See it.  Draw it deeply into your soul.  Allow it to fill your mind with hope and buoyancy.  Then take your computer or your phone and call someone.  Drop groceries at their doorstep.  Toilet paper or Clorox too.  Offer to take in their mail.

The Torah instructs us, “Righteousness (tzedek, tzedek), righteousness, you shall pursue.”  The Seer of Lublin explained the meaning of this passage.  He said, “When a person believes that he/she is completely just, justice does not see her/him.  You must never be still; you almost always move forward, like a newborn, growing, learning and doing like you have achieved little at all - that is true justice.”

So, when you feel disillusioned, walking in darkness, find a way to do someone an act of goodness.  That single act can lift the veil of darkness from our eyes and make us whole once again.  It is the reason you were born, to improve just one person’s day.  That simple act validates our lives.  It will make the clouds lift and bring us into the light of God.

Simon Jacobson told when the Tzemach Tzedek, the third Chabad Rebbe, was a child, he was playing on a ladder with other children. All the children climbed halfway up, and he was the only child who climbed all the way to the top.

Afterwards, his grandfather, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, who was standing by the window watching, asked him, "Why is it that you were not afraid to climb to the top when all your friends gave up?"

He answered, "Simple. I never looked down. I just kept looking up. When I saw how I low I was that motivated me to climb higher."  

Always focus your attention on what lies before you.  Do not look down.  Look up. Climb ever higher.  Rabbi Tarfon in the Mishna, taught us that “you will never finish the task, but you are obligated to never give up.”

Look up my friends.  There is much work, mush goodness, to be done.

Send us health God, not just of body but of spirit.  

Lift us up, God, so that we feel Your Presence and can see more clearly the goodness that surrounds us.  Give us that vision, Lord.

Get Your Life

“Even if we cannot perform every mitzvah, we are directed to address ourselves to those achievable sections, ” said Rabbi Dow Marmur, one of my professors in London.  He recognized that all things are not possible but that should not discourage us from trying to do our best.  There are 613 mitzvot.  Some of them are easy and some of them are difficult but the point is there are ample opportunities.

Another one of my teachers, Louis Jacobs, quoted Israel Zangwill who remarked that in the Middle Ages kings rewarded people for discovering newfound pleasures while in the Jewish community people were feted for discovering new mitzvahs or their hidden meanings.

Life is full of choices.  We are a society overflowing with opportunities to fall out of airplanes, go gliding, skating, bowling, surfing, dancing, watch movies on screens so large we need to sit way back to catch the whole picture, zoos where exotic animals frolic, soccer, golf, kite flying, walking on the beach.   The choices are endless.  

As young parents we know all too well the myriad activities that keep out children’s bodies and brains in high gear.  They do karate, gymnastics, baseball, dance, and compete in all kinds of programs.  Will they grow to be a basketball star?  Perhaps their acting skills will make them a movie star.

Yet our faith calls us to ask the question, “What gives my life, and the life of my child, meaning?”  We all know the answer to that question despite the fact that we often ignore it.

In the Mishna, it states, “All who labor for the community should do so for the sake of heaven.”  Consider the profundity of this statement.  In the first instance, it tells us to do something for others. In the second instance, it indicates that self-worth comes out of giving.  

The concept of “Mitzvah” is that it transcends human desire.  It vaults us up to new heights of relationship and feeling good about who we are becoming.  Want to feel good?  Be happy? Of course you do!  We are ever in search of bring happy.   

Go do a mitzvah.

Do you remember those shirts that used to read, “It’s all about me”?  Awful. What a terrible misdirection to the meaning of life.  It is all about us.  We feel good when we do mitzvahs that are all about you, them, God and us.  All together.

Another scholar, Martin Buber, commented, “Speak as if God were listening to everything you say.”   He does!  And He sees what we do.  The Lord weeps when we waste precious resources, time, and baseless words.  He claps and rejoices when His children walk in His footsteps.

Looking for ideas?  

Put some money in the pushke (tzedaka box) every day.  Don’t have one?  Get one.

Say the ha-motzie before opening your mouth to eat.

Having nothing nice to say?  Don’t curse yourself (and God) by saying it.

Celebrate Shabbat in some new way (candles, challah, wine, shul, read a Jewish book).

The possibilities are endless.  They cost nothing or almost nothing.  Not doing them will cost you a great deal.

A Prayer for Pesach

A Prayer.

On this sacred night when our ancestors were freed from enslavement, we remember their pain.  We recall their misery and utter feelings of abandonment and a future that looked dismal.

God changed all that when He redeemed our mothers and father from slavery just as he promised Abraham and Sarah.

Oh God, open our hearts to the reality of You and of the suffering that exists all around.  We are keenly aware of the Covid-19 that, like the plagues we recite in the Pesach seder, seem all too familiar.  Make us aware of the need to be thankful for the blessings of freedom and hope that our children will enjoy the goodness that emanates from Above.  At the same time, we need open hearts to alleviate the unbearable pain of those who suffer from this virus, give courage to them and their families, to the children who lack adequate care and food during this quarantine with malnutrition, lack of a hopeful future, prejudice and death.  Keep us all safe, Lord.

When we remove all the leaven from our homes my we also work to eradicate all the detritus, anger, and resentments that keep us from being whole.  Help us, God, for we are weak.  At the same time, let us step out of the penultimate plague of Darkness into light by offering to bring comfort to those who need it.  Call someone today and find out how they are faring.  Bring them and the world greater light.

Infuse into our souls light, supernal light, which allows us to see clearly that every person is made in the image of God.  And let it be that on this Pesach we learn to become responsible for every Jewish person in our community and then moving outward to make life for everyone more bearable.

May we perform these sacred acts of the seder with joy and gratitude; our voices singing loud and clear declaring our unity and the Oneness of our Maker.  Fill our hearts with passion to feel Your love and the commitment, that holy covenant that You have honored to this day.

Our past:

Creation. The exile from Eden. The Flood. Noah. Then Abraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov. The Exile and the Exodus, and the giving of our Torah. The Tabernacle, Land of Israel, the Judges, the Prophets, and the Holy Temple. The Destruction. Purim, the Second Temple, and Hanukah. The Diaspora.. The Crusades. The Inquisition. Pogroms. The Cossacks. The "Enlightenment." Out of the ghettos ... Auschwitz. Treblinka. Bergen-Belsen. Reviving. Rebuilding. Re-Souling ... 

 Help us to realize, God that we are part of this great chain of unending tradition on these holy days.

Above all, Holy One, instill in our hearts hope.  You have never abandoned us.  Hold us close now.

Forget About It

We are taught to remember facts and formulas.  From early childhood this is how we were gridded and judged; by how well we memorized and used what we were supposed to learn.  They gave us tests, examinations and papers to write to prove that we could ably handle all that the teachers wanted us to know.  And our teachers were many: they were our employees, employers, parents, siblings, friends, cashiers, the mechanic....  We are constantly judged by how well we recall what we were told to remember.

Learning to forget is also a useful tool.  I do not mean to suggest forgetting what we should remember, but forgetting what we should not recall.

Universally we want to live with peace of mind.  Yet when we constantly relive painful experiences, when we replay hurtful conversations, and sneer that those who have offended us we can never live in peace.  We torment ourselves and those around us.  Those who bemoan the fact that they have few friends should consider practicing the art of forgetfulness.

Rebbe Nachman taught, "Most people think of 
forgetfulness as a defect. 
I consider it a great benefit. 
Being able to forget, frees you 
from the burdens of the past." 

A word about davvenning, prayer.  It is impossible to open your heart to prayer when you are bitter.  Thinking about how you have been harmed, abused or ignored serves to soil the prayer.  How can you communicate with the God who forgives when you are angry?  Forgetting past harms allows us to reach out from  the depths of our soul to the Holy One, Blessed He.  Real davenning begins with gratitude and it is hard to be grateful when we are filled with anger.

Pesach is coming soon.  No one would fault us for hating the Egyptians for enslaving our people for hundreds of years.  Yet, our tradition teaches us to let go of the anger, precisely because we know what it means to be filled with it.  Further, it demands that we be kind to the stranger so that we do not end up resembling our tormentors.  

Such remembrances lessen our lives.  It degrades our joy and aspirations.  It makes us mean, competitive (in order to make those who have offended us suffer).  I have learned this same lesson from many survivors of the Shoah.  How they learned to survive after their suffering is to forget their victimizers while remembering the lessons of tolerance.

Pain, our sages taught, is a great teacher.  It tells us how not to hold on to grudges and be filled with hatred.  It teaches us the opposite, how to be empathic and fight against bigotry and intolerance which are the first stops of the road to genocide.

Charles Handy wrote, "In the end, all societies are remembered for the way they spend their wealth, than for how they made it.” 

The same will be said of us, we will be remembered for how well we learned to forget and turn what could have been hatred into hope.  I hope that when we come to Pesach this year, we will turn our minds to the afflictions of the past (and reference the ongoing ones), forget the harm, remember the marvelous deliverance and work to become the model of what God knows we can be: givers of life and forgiveness.

Changed

Mother Theresa said, “We can do no great things, only small things with great love.”

It has been that way since the beginning.  Alexander the Great would have been nothing without an army behind him.  He, like every other memorable figure throughout history, was only one person.  Like you.  Like me.  It is the same with every leader.  They lead only because we give them permission.

Alone we often feel powerless, as if we do not matter.  Yet the people who hold the reins of power only do so with our imprimatur.  We empower or disempower them.

Israel Zangwill remarked that in the Middle Ages kings rewarded anyone who discovered a new pleasure while the Jews continually looked for new mitzvahs.

Why would we have such a different attitude until this day?  Because we know that everything we say and do matters.  Life is not about pursuing pleasures it is about making good choices and changing the world, even if it is only a tiny piece.

Example.  It does not take much to destroy a community. All you need are a few ill-tempered and negatively disposed people to poison the environment.  Many congregations, communities and even countries have imploded because of a few.

Example. To restore a sense of balance in a family or larger group all it takes is one right-minded person to do the correct thing.

How many times have our days been dramatically changed because someone did us an unexpected kindness?  How many lives have been changed because we did the same by calling someone we have not seen in while?  Sending a note to say that we miss them?  Or simply telling a friend how much they mean to us?

Bernard Baruch wrote in his autobiography that when he made his first million he told his father who was unimpressed.  Baruch said, “I am not even thirty and already I made my first million.  Are you not even happy?”
“What I want to know,” said his father, “is how you will spend the money you earned.”

Every day presents a new chance, a new opportunity.  The three dialogues we offer this month are one example to make new friends in a wider community.  Our Havurot program is an opportunity to get involved and make little change for your self and others.   Opportunities like Tuesdays with Friends abound.  The synagogue, your synagogue, is a great place to make s a start as a volunteer.

Here’s an idea if you are pressed to find out what you can contribute: smile at people randomly.  It will change their day and they will carry the joy you gave them back home and share it with their family.  

Find a place where you can make a difference.  Start today and make it a habit to make your world a little shinier every day.