Monday, November 10, 2014

Making Every Day Brighter

The eye only takes in and records.   There are no emotions in it, just facts such as dimension, color and events.  The eye is impassive, non-judgmental. As it records data there is no joy.  No triumphantalism.  No squeals of delight or jaw-dropping moments.  Therefore, the awesome does not exist in any empirical manner.  Sensations come from a deeper place. 
As Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote “there are no sublime facts; there are only sublime acts.”  That is, we endow time, places and events with sanctity.  If we do not see it, it is not there.  We may stand at the foothills of the Himalayas and be wondering about lunch.  We might find ourselves in a bear-hug embrace and be wishing we had more time to make phone calls.  We could, in short, be in the Garden of Eden and never realize the verdant beauty pulsating all around.  As Psalms says, “they have eyes but do not see.”
What makes the Jew unique is his proclivity to draw out the intrinsic holiness in all things.  That is why we have so many blessings to recite; to awaken our sense of wonder.  The purpose of our many prayers and blessings is to make our eyes aware of the great gifts of the universe.  From food to clothing to bodily functions all things can be holy.  Moments can be sated with meaning.  Love can grow stronger and life can be more meaningful and fulfilling when we perceive the depth and potential that is inherent in them.
People have trouble finding God.  The truth is God is in all places and events.  We need to be able to see.
People have difficulty with love.  We inhabit a world of love.  But for some the universe is a war to be waged and won.
Make your day brighter.  Utter a prayer of thanks-  a bracha.  Life can be better.
During Hannukka, for example there are tiny flames dispelling gloom- light incrementally growing with each passing night until the Hannukkiah is bathed in the play of flickering shadows and light- thick air from crusty fried latkes- water droplets traveling a jagged path down the window- dreidels- gelt- and warmth.


Solo Act or Partnership?

One of the oddest questions posed by the Talmud asks, “What is Hanukkah?” 
Why does it ask such a question?  Is it not self-evident what Hanukkah means?  Doesn’t every six-year old know the reason for Hanukkah?
The Talmud provides an answer to its own question by describing the miracle of oil.  While kosher oil, unearthed by the Maccabees, was enough to last one day it burned for eight days.  Some say it burned brighter with each passing hour, yet another miracle.
Yet the initial question remains, why does the Talmud not assume we know why Hanukkah is observed?
Here are four possibilities:
1.     One of the underlying messages of Hanukah is that righteousness can triumph over numerics.  Despite the overwhelming odds against them posed by the militant Greek power, the Maccabees through sheer determination won a long and hard battle.  This message certainly resonates with modern Israel, the beleaguered Jewish state founded in ashes, forged in fire, and continually assaulted on all sides for all the years of its brief life.
2.     Hanukkah is meant as a symbol of hope, when, in the darkest hours of the long winter nights, we kindle flames a s a bulwark against the encroaching darkness around, we learn a powerful message about keeping hope alive even when everything else in life would seem to indicate the despair.
3.     Hanukkah is a metaphor for the internal and ongoing struggle each human engages in day-to-day.  It is the battle for goodness that is continually waged against the internal dark forces (yotzrot) urging us to embrace our worst impulses.  Hanukkah comes with the message that we can triumph over our most implacable foe, the internal enemy.
4.     Perhaps Hanukkah is nothing more than a childhood dream of safety; good warm tasty food, laughter and love?  If that is its message it too is worthy.

Maybe the Talmud poses the question about Hanukkah’s meaning because it has so many overlays, so many variant meanings.  Why then did they opt for the simple miracle of oil outlasting its normal life?  To show that God is the apex of all life.  It is too easy to dismiss God from Hanukkah, or Purim, or any other human event.  In fact if you read the tale of Hanukkah it is not unusual to miss the God part altogether.  The war was won though perseverance and strategy by the wily Maccabees.  Just like the rest of our lives.  Who wrested the big sale from the client?  Me or God?  Who won the court case?  Who raised our children?  Who is the breadwinner? 

It is simple to exclude God from the realities of daily living.  Maybe this is the real genius of the rabbis: it is not so much about writing our story but recognizing the glorious nature of even the tiniest event.

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

In Control

Life is simple.  We are complex.
After all, everything that happens to us is predictable.  The sun rises each day.  The winter is cold.  There will be another bout of flu in December.  We will grow old and eventually die.  
What then makes life knotty is our inability to control the randomness of that order.  The sun may rise at 5 am but we have structured our environment so that it will not interfere with our preset schedule.  Blinds on the windows allow us to sleep late creating our own artificial order.  Winter may be cold but it is infinitely more problematic if the heating system breaks down barring our ability to control our climate.  We will probably get the flu and still become angry when it arrives.  Even the time of dying is rarely chosen and convenient.
We are complex in our inability to accept what life brings to our doorstep.  The exasperation and pain that we invariably feel is nothing more than our powerless.  We can’t control life.
Harold Kushner has written that “Our awareness of God starts where self-sufficiency ends.”  That is we reach for God when we feel helpless.  Certainly last year, when the myth of the invulnerable American soil was shattered our nation turned to religion for an understanding of such a great evil.  It was hoped that at least faith would make sense of three planes hijacked and thousands of deaths.
The question most often asked of me (and I suspect of all religious leaders) is why bad things happen.  Bad things are uncontrollable, unforeseen events.  Essentially, bad things are when we lose control over our local world.
Life is what happens when we are busy managing our schedule and suddenly an unplanned, unpredictable incident occurs.  We then become upset.  Our control has been violated.
Happiness comes either when everything goes our way or we accept the inevitable and unforeseeable as natural parts of life.  Since the first will never happen, the only clear alternative is the realization we have limited control over our world.
The most famous of all Psalms has the line “Though I walk in the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil because Thou art with me.”  This poignant line expresses a great depth of awareness.  When we understand how vulnerable we are we know two things:
1. We have little control over life and
2. We are never truly alone.  God is here.

Real Prayer

Prayer is not easy.  Real prayer can only come from a deep wellspring of feeling within.   Words are the vehicle of prayer but like any speech between people it can be sated with meaning or vapid. 
When we stand in synagogue or at our kitchen table and review the words in the siddur they are empty, black splotches on white paper.  It is only our yearning that breathes life into the letters.  Sometimes a certain prayer will bring us to an expansive awareness while other times that same prayer will have little meaning.  It all starts with the pray-er, us.

“Startle us, O God
Startle us with the wild improbability of what we say we believe.
Startle us with the incredible beauty and goodness of the affirmations of this place,
And our being in it this morning.” – John M Buchanan

Simply feeling wonder is a great impetus in relating to God.  Expressing awe is the kernel that births a sense of godliness.  That is why the ancient ones used to say, “You are the prayer.”  It is not in the book, not in the words; it is you.  The intentional words of praise that we utter become powerful utterances that rival the prayers of greatest tzaddikim of time.  We do not have to seek out inspirational women and men of renown to experience the sublime.
The Baal Shem Tov once said, Imagine a man whose business propels him through a maze of streets and across the marketplace through the long day.  He almost forgets that there is a Maker of the world.
Only when he realizes that it is time for Minha, the afternoon prayer, does he stop to remember that he must daven.
Then, from the depths of his heart, he sighs.  In that moment he is full of regret that he has spent the full day on vain, idle matters.  He moves into a side street, stands still and prays.  God holds him very dear and his prayer pierces the firmament.

Prayer is many things but the highest prayer is simple awe.

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

What We Can Gain from the High Holy Days

“Out yonder there was this huge world, which exists independently of us human beings and which stands before us like a great, eternal riddle… The contemplation of this world beckoned like a liberation.”  
So said Albert Einstein he stared out into the vast universe in wonderment. The person who seeks religion, who yearns for God, is no different than the scientist who is on a quest to discern the underpinnings of the world.  Both the religious and scientist gaze outward toward the universe wide-eyed; they are openhearted feeling overwhelmed by its largesse and hoping to understand better how it works and what their place is in it.
Perhaps awe is the first step in apprehending what our purpose is in life. In fact, the, kabbalah echoes the sentiment when it says that the initial question every inquiring mind must ask as he cranes his neck up at the stars at night is ‘Who created these?’ Once a person can make such a declaration they become open to all possibilities no matter how sublime or pedestrian.
Another of the greatest minds of this past century, Abraham Joshua, Heschel, wrote passionately about how critical it is for every person to be full of wonder. He wrote, “Our goal should be to live life in radical amazement. ....get up in the morning and look at the world in a way that takes nothing for granted. Everything is phenomenal; everything is incredible; never treat life casually. To be spiritual is to be amazed.”
Why was Heschel so insistent on being child-like, full of wonder? ? Perhaps because wonder, aside from being the pathway to knowledge and the foundation of connecting with God, is also the cornerstone of love.
Wonder and love is looking and accepting. Wonder and love is astonishment and awed silence. Perhaps that is why so many people who have had a deeply, profoundly religious experience find themselves buffeted by quietude. Absolute peace.

To not accept the outside world as it is, to dismiss all things as mundane, is to ignore the cream of life.  And who would want to be absent from the greatest, most thrilling adventure that life has to offer?  The now.  The universe pulsates with abundant love.

In the aftermath of these High Holy Days (also known as the Days of Awe) my deepest hope is that you found a moment to be touched by God and feel the radical awe. I pray that you take many moments to look into the eyes of love and be amazed by what you see there.


Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Where Growth Begins


 Two Chelmite scholars were debating how people grow: Do they grow from the feet up of from the head down? 
The first said, “From the feet up, of course.  Last year, I bought my son a suit for his Bar Mitzvah, and at that time the pants were just the right length.  Now the pants only reach his ankles.   That proves that people grow from the feet down!”
“Fool,” snapped the second scholar.  “It’s obvious that people grow from the head down.  If you see a group of soldiers marching their feet are all at the same level.  But, if you look at their heads you will see that they are at different heights. That proves that people grow from their heads down.”
Both Chelmites were wrong.  We neither grow from the bottom up or the top down.  We grow from the inside out.

      In these waning moments of summer, I wish you growth.  Read Jewish books.  Come study with me.  Challenge yourself to climb new heights of spirituality.   Light your Shabbes candles.  Enjoy yourself, your loved ones and God.