Get Ahead

Get Ahead

 

Here is a blast from the past, a nineteenth century joke:

“What’s the matter?”

“Never mind.”

“What is mind?”

“No matter.”

 

The joke underscores how vital is our mind, our processing of information and ultimately decision making.  If the mind is of “no matter” just travel with the pack.  Then if others fall off a cliff like lemmings, you will go with them.  This past month we were taught by example how to avoid the mind that does not matter while observing our Jewish traditions.

 

For two days we reveled in Rosh Hashanah, praying, feasting and singing.  We rejoiced at life granted for another year.  Then ten days later we fasted, stretching out our hearts to the beneficent God who wants us to become finer, more humane and cognizant of the mitzvot while acknowledging our flaws and sins in a raw and powerful service of significant length.   Then a few days later Sukkot comes when we meander out of our homes, gathering in small shelters, called Sukkot, walking in nature, observing life unadorned.  During this Festival of Sukkot we open up the book of Ecclesiastes and read about life’s paradoxes.  Pick up the small book and you will find such inconsistencies as “eat your bread in gladness” and “there is great evil under the sun.”  And then there is the familiar, “there is a season for every purpose under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot….”

 

If you were attentive, the three holidays we have observed are so markedly different from one another that they set the mind careening in several different directions.  That is intentional and instructive.

 

We attended many schools in our lives.  In each grade or academic level there were many disparate things we needed to learn, often in conflict with one another!  “Math is vital for you livelihood,” you were told.  In the next class, “Without a strong basis in English you will go nowhere.”  So which is the truth?  They are all truth for life itself is a paradox.  It is not linear.  There is no “one size fits all” or straight line that begins at one point and goes to another pre-appointed point.

 

Perhaps Judaism during this month can teach us and our nation a great lesson.  No one thing or idea is right all the time.  No person is correct all the time.  Theorems are just that, theorems.  Our faith calls upon us to carefully examine and listen to all ideas with dignity and respect. After we have heard all sides we can determine the best path for us to take.  No problem is identical to one we have encountered before (even while Ecclesiastes declares, “there is nothing new under the sun.”  Yet another paradox!).

 

Our critical thinking, our mind, is our best resource.  That is why as Jews we continually strive for excellence and are disproportionate number of Noel Prize winners (about 20%).  That is not because Jews are smarter.  It is because we insist on a broad spectrum of learning.  No philosophy, science or art contains all the answers to life’s conundrums.  The answer lies in the combination of them.  Torah begs that we open our heads to learn from everyone, everything and every experience.

Reb Zalman Pizner was quite wealthy and yet he dressed as a peasant, like a simply farmer while wearing a handmade expensive hat.

A friend asked Zalman why he chose to dress that way when he could afford finer clothes.  

He answered; to most people the body is the most important element.  They feel they gain respect by others when they look at what they are wearing while leaving their head uncovered.  I, however, believe that the head is the most important part of the body so while my clothes are ordinary I will always wear and elegant hat.”

Read.  Listen. Consider.  Think.  Then investigate.

 

Heal

Looking to our prophets for insights, instructions on how to live a meaningful life we are consistently directed to “do justice, love mercy and walk humbly with God.” (Micah 6:8).  This our mandate.

How does this actually play out now?  In this unforgettable spring and summer of 2020? 

The other vital phrase from the prophets is to “Let justice flow like a mighty stream”  and yet we watch as the stream becomes a trickle in these desperate times of the Covid-19; the separation of loved ones from one another, the protective cover we provide for one another, the arms that envelope all of us are not there.  Anger roiling in the streets is a manifestation of the deep running frustration that we are not meeting the needs of the most vulnerable, and they are growing in number.  As we are stuck at home with our masks covering our faces trying to make do with the intense loneliness each of us is experiencing.

What do we do?

 What do we do to change this dynamic?  What do we do to reclaim our joy and complete or God-given mandate of making that stream flow mightily down the mountain once again (Amos 5:24)?

A brief story tells of the Warsaw Rabbi who went around collecting children, teaching them, foraging food to fill their empty stomachs and gathering the newly orphaned to help them live another day.  Do you know what he taught those children and those grown-ups who would listen?  

He would tell them, “The best thing you can do for another person is to do them a favor.”  In the depths of hell here was a teacher telling people to do favors for each other.  If you can do favors, lift people up while bullets and malnutrition were killing people in the streets, are we really so helpless?

Friends, these are trying times and when we withdraw into our protective cocoons and self isolate, we dam that stream; we prevent it from flowing down the mountain clearing the path for those who need water, refreshment, a moment of calm, knowing someone is upstream working to clear the path.

We are directed biblically to love our neighbors as we love ourselves (Lev 19:18).  How can we accomplish this?  By doing what this teacher taught his students, doing favors.  You see, when we help another person, we remove a rock from the dam and allow a little water to free flow.  Then the next person removes another rock, an impediment for the sustaining water of life and more gushes down.  We become fully human when we love our neighbor.  In other words, we love ourselves more when we reach beyond the borders of our own self-interest.  How do you love your neighbor when you do not love yourself so much?  When you help someone else find a home, get equal education, get access to medical and mental health.  

So you want to know the secret of how to love yourself better?  Give that love away by working to make this a more perfect world, doing a favor removing a rock, letting the stream become a river.  We are able to wholly love when we remove the impediments for justice and allow God’s purifying water to roll down that mountain, washing away all the detritus of hunger, prejudice, homelessness, and living in a two-tiered society.

And how will we do this?  Our combined voices will be heard in the halls of power, all starting at your table. It will not be easy to remove the rocks but with you we can do it!   It can only happen with you.  Remember- apart we are adrift, alone and powerless.  Together we are mighty, powerful, able to bring water to a parched land.

Now more than ever we need each other and to free ourselves from the restrictive bonds of this time.

God is waiting for His hands and feet to make this a reality.  You nd I are those hands and feet.

A Cure for the Pandemic

Three Jews were discussing the wonderful powers of the Rabbis in the different villages they came from.

‘Our Rabbi was walking through a wood,’ said the first, ‘when he came to a part which was on fire.  He said, ‘Fire to the right, fire to the left,’ and he walked through unharmed.’

‘Our Rabbi went out for a walk one day when he came to a stream.  He said, ‘Water to the right, water to the left,’ and he walked through dry shod.’

‘That’s nothing,’ said the third. ‘Our Rabbi was on a journey and was returning home on Friday towards sunset when he was overtaken by Shabbat.  ‘Shabbat to the right and Shabbat to the left and he got home in time.’

I learned this tale while in England.  It made me laugh.  And now that I recall it, it makes me think.  

We face many obstacles in life.  At times we wonder of we can afford what we need.  There are moments when we wonder if love will leave us.  Do we have the strength to master our addiction?  We contemplate whether our life has had value.  Did our actions make us worthy of a place with God?   Or did we miss our turn some years back?  

So what does the quaint story teach me now?  Time, namely now, is all we possess.  All else is “vanity” as King Solomon taught.

Edging toward the New Year, Rosh Hashanah while dancing around the corona virus, wearing masks, learning new behaviors due to social distancing, coping with the inequities of social and skin differences, Israel and its new enemies, building defenses around our synagogues, the tidal rise of anti-Semitism and let us not forget the political chasm which has never been more divisive or wide.  How do we cope with all these dilemmas?  Even the Gamecocks cannot distract us from the issues facing us.

For the Jew we are taught from the earliest age that time is kodesh, holy.  We are given that God charged us with the responsibility of taking time and making it holy.  One day each week we set a side time to make kiddush (you are thinking “wine” but the word is basically the same as holy, kodesh).  Candles are lit.  We prepare special foods in advance to enhance the evening.   We say prayers from our siddur and it becomes holy as we have invited God into our homes and asked each family member to set aside this time to be a family, a whole.  Shabbat to the right and Shabbat to the left… but do we make it?  Do we see it?

What this novel year has brought to us is an understanding of the value of time and how easily it slips away, often unwanted and unobserved, while Judaism teaches the values of making it sacred.

Mark time.  Create sacred moments.  Have a Shabbat meal.  Bring Hallahs.  Buy a bottle of kosher wine and add your favorite food.  You can do without the blare of video games or the TV for a while.

Softly sing the Sh’ma before going to sleep.  Invite God into your daily life, whether by thanking Him for the food you eat or the breath you take.

God has given us the ability to be free, not slaves to people or the forces of nature or the innumerable demands we imagine.  Here is the real question: Can you master the full freedom that is yours, transforming the mundane into the holy?  If you can master this, you and your family will get through these turbulent times not only intact but more cohesive and with a deeper love and appreciation of God in your lives.

Missing You

Dear friends,

Some of you I see quite often on Zoom or at our internet services.  Then there are those whom I do not see, I miss.  

The synagogue feels very empty without you.

I know these months have been vexing for us all.  We are trying our best to navigate the minefield of contagion, understand how we can better protect citizens of all colors and faiths, our concern for Israel continues gnaw at our frayed nerves, our children’s education, parent’s health and so many other day-to-day issues that are worrisome.  We are all fixated at the multitude of issues swirling around us.  And there’s still precious little of worth to watch on tv!

These concerns flit around in the mind and are a nuisance.

I want to share a story with you about the Baal Shem Tov.  A wealthy man from a neighboring town invited the Baal Shem Tov to teach his son Torah.  So he invited the famous Rabbi to stay and educate his son.  Entering the home, the Baal Shem discovers that the house is full of demons raising havoc everywhere.  They throw things break dishes and make terrible noises.  The Baal Shem approaches them and speaks with them, telling the demons that they are welcome to stay in the house but they must live in the attic.  He could have tried to force them out but instead the Baal Shem limited their space.

Is there a space where we can put our demons?  Relegate them to a secure spot where their disturbances will be minimal?

Life always has had its problems.  We have dealt with them before, as have previous generations.  Your wellbeing is paramount.  Take time to enjoy the silences that you used to yearn for.  Take advantage of the outdoors, which beckons with its foliage, flowers and birds singing merrily from the treetops.  The intimacy that we can create during this time is priceless.  The demons can be vanquished to the attic.  That does not mean they do not exist.  What it does mean is that they do not have control over our house (us).

Life is fragile and uncertain.  That was true last year and last century.  It is precisely the challenge to see the golden hues of the world that makes life so precious and meaningful.

Blessings and Love,

Rabbi Jonathan Case

“Heal me God and I shall be healed!”  -Jeremiah 17:14

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.