Word

 The Word

Words spoken at the wrong moment can have dramatic and long-lasting consequences.  The same is true for words that have not been thought-out, a spontaneous blurt.  Reflect for moment on the residual insults, slights, and wounds you bear.  More often than not, we are not victims of physical assaults but have all been verbally abused.

Long after the words were spoken, long after the person who said them forgot what he said, we still remember.  Those words keep us up at night.  They come to us in dark moments and cause us to cringe…often decades later.

The internet has hastened the verbal decline in the psychic abyss.  Words sent with abandon are read and re-read, each time extracting new unintended meanings.  Deler licebit quod non edideris; nescit vox missa revert.  “You can change what you did not write - but words written you can never retract,” wrote the Roman poet Horace.  I know people who hold onto excoriating notes written to them years later and grow angrier every time they read them.

Perhaps that is why Rashi identifies the aspect of man that was “made in the image of God” as the gift of speech.  When we speak we build or destroy; we heal or hurt.  Just as God cast the world into being with words so too we become creators with what we say.  Words are never meaningless or empty; they are filled and volatile vessels.

It is interesting that the Hebrew for “words” is the same as for “things” (devarim).  I suspect that the ancient ones knew that words are things.  Once spoken they become alive.  They embed themselves quickly into the minds of the listener and become part of their being.  Kabbalah goes so far as to tell us that letters and words the building blocks of the physical universe.  The letters themselves are like the foundation which undergirds everything.  Without their power the universe would collapse on itself.

In tefilah, prayer, one word can have a tremendous impact.  One single word uttered with focus and intention can elevate a moment or even a lifetime.  In life, a word of praise spoken at the right time can redeem a lifetime of regret and despair.  A wrong word can destroy a person and even ruin their family.

The power invested in humanity by God through the gift of speech is overwhelming.  We are charged to use it well – for the sake of building life and not tearing it down.   Be compassionate in word.

Paradise Found

 “We were expelled from Paradise but Paradise was not destroyed.  In a sense, our expulsion from Paradise was a stroke of luck for had we not been expelled Paradise would have had to be destroyed.”  Franz Kafka

 

The familiar story of Eden has many facets.  One of the most compelling aspects to the story is man’s expulsion from it.  From that moment humanity lies fully exposed to aging, disease, and hatred.  The evil unleashed when the Gates of Paradise were closed and locked after the departing Adam Eve has stayed with us.

Who has not yearned for a release from the darkness of this world?  Who has not wept at taking of the forbidden fruit?  All suffering comes from that choice.

Paradise was created before the world came into being pesachim 54a  after the world was cast into being, God then placed Paradise on earth.  But perfection was not meant for this world.  It could not stand in a place where humanity desired more than they needed.  It could not remain where “wants’ were a more powerful urge than sacrifice.  

There was only one choice before God: destroy Paradise or wipe out humanity who not coexist with perfection.  The Holy One accepted neither choice:  He moved Paradise to another place.

Said Rabbi Isaac, “This world is only the vestibule to another world; you must prepare yourself in the vestibule so that you may enter the banquet hall.”
~ Avot, 4, 21.

 

Prayer

 Now that the holy Days are over, some reflections on prayer.

Prayer takes many forms.  

There are those who ask for something, e.g., healing, prosperity, joy…  Some praise (G-d is beneficent, forgiving, loving…)  Others are gratitude (for breath, companionship, eyesight, clothes…). 

For many, prayer is disjoint and cumbersome.  It is difficult to gather thoughts in an organized fashion (I think this is what some people mean when they say they do not like “organized religion.”  They wait for inspiration when it comes, not getting it from formal prayer).  

Some experience moments of impoverishment and appeal to Something that will alleviate the anguish.  Or a moment might jar us to an inner sense of wondrous thankfulness.  Each is a time of deep reflection and prayer, but they tend to be sporadic.

What did you pray for on the Yamim Noraim, Days of Awe?  

I want to make two suggestions for those who are searching for a connection to prayer.  

Ø One is silence.

There is much noise in our surroundings and in our heads.  We are constantly barraged by our cell phones (I call my phone a dog leash.  When it rings it demands a response, no matter where I am or what I am doing), messages that chime at all times of the day and night, music and news that relentlessly blares, traffic, sounds of construction, and the noise of the mind of things left undone that does not let up.  

When was the last time you sat quietly with all devices turned off and away from all distractions?  Prayer comes in those silences.

Elie Wiesel tells Rebbe Mendel the Taciturn who sat, with eyes closed, face turned toward Jerusalem in a fiery sanctuary as he listened to the song of silence – “a celestial and yet tangible silence in which both voices and moments attain mortality.” 

Ø The other suggestion is practiced gratitude. 

It was one of the first lessons that our parents taught us: Say “please” and “thank you.”  We do not like people who do not express appreciation.  We call them in-grates.  Those who tell us how appreciative they are for the hello, the birthday message or present fills us with joy.

Reb Zusya was the ultimate teacher of knowing how to be grateful.

Whatever he had, Zusya gave away. There were always poor whose needs far outstripped his personal needs. There were times when Zusya did not even have enough to eat. That is why he said, "for those who say I have nothing, they are correct." Yet, at the same time Zusya also acknowledged that if someone were to ask what he needed, Zusya would tell him or her he had everything he required.

Zusya taught his acolytes through his actions.  He was deeply grateful for whatever he had and was happy to share whatever little he possessed with others who had less.

 

We are the richest civilization that ever lived.  We have so much that what we discard would be a cornucopia of delights to previous generations.  Yet, our faith reminds us that such things like food, clothes, air, or a roof over our heads, cannot be taken for granted.  In fact, the first prayers we utter each morning in our ritual services thanks the Almighty for each one of these and more.  Often the best segue into a modality of prayer is expressing thanks like saying thanks for food or expressing gratitude for being alive each morning.

 

Always Choose and Choose Well

 Many lenses filter what we see.

At times, the world appears bright, full of love and endless promises of goodness yet-to-come.  We anticipate the arrival of ample joy throughout the coming hours.  

At other times, the world is cold, dark and lifeless.  Any possibility of goodness is swallowed up by the consuming bleakness that hovers all about us.  

At yet other times, we are splayed open.  Ready to accept whatever comes our way, we greet the world in a forthright, almost childish way.

Countless other feelings color the way we receive the day.  These are psychic lenses that we place over our eyes.  They interpret what we say.  They become our reality.

The Talmud records the difference between the brothers of Genesis, Cain and Abel.  The former slew his sibling in a fit of jealous rage.  Here is the Talmud’s observation:

For Cain there was no justice in the world.  Good was not rewarded.  Evil went unpunished.  His world was empty, dark and forbidding.  Cain reasoned that goodness was not a virtue but a weakness.

For Abel, the vast universe was created with Divine love and mercy.  Able looked at the world and saw endless life and excitement in each petal, every blade of grass.  Forgiveness was part of the unwritten rule governing the universe.

We make our own reality.  We are the interpreters of what we see and then how we interact with the world.  Choose the path of goodness, of Godliness.  Choose the path of peace and aiding those who are crying.  It does not only change them…it also informs how we see our world, feel about ourselves, and please our Maker.

Look

 If you do not acknowledge someone, are they there? Can you remember the feeling of being ignored? Can you recollect the sensation of almost being violated when they looked right through you? Beyond you? When you tentatively raised your opinion in the conversation no one noticed. How did that feel?

Walking past a homeless person with an outstretched arm on the street poses the same conundrum. Do they exist? Do they matter? Do they feel violated? Or are they so used to being invisible that they no longer feel the pang of not being there?
Isn’t this the underlying basis of the philosophical question, "if a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it, did it really fall?’ Perhaps the question ought to be re-phrased as, "if a tree falls in the forest and no hears it, does the life of the tree matter?" Is the fact that it has fallen of any consequence? Of course it matters to the creatures of the forest. Some animals will lose their home while others will find one in the shelter of the bark. Some will die and some will live. New growth will replace the old. Perhaps the tree destroyed a berry bush beneath it. It will no feed the weary traveler in the future. Aren’t these good reasons to believe that a single fallen tree can make a big difference? Yet, if humans are the sole determinant of reality then a tree falling out of human view makes no difference. 
The Torah states, "You are My witnesses." Midrash interprets the statement by God as meaning, "If you are My witnesses then I am God. And if you are not My witnesses, I am not God." 
The midrash is trying to tell us is that while we do not determine the reality of whether a tree has actually fallen or not, we do determine our personal reality.
We can choose to live with or without God. Our mind will decide whether to view other people as God’s other children or mere objects to toy with. We can view nature as an annoyance or the first part of God’s creation. We determine our own joy or despair. 
God continually whispers to us to choose Him. Listen.
 
 
 
Rabbi Shmuel bar Nachmani quoted Rabbi Shimon:
Moses was directed by the Holy One, blessed be He, to build the Tabernacle, the Ark and the sacred vessels. Moses turned to Betzalel and told him to build the Ark, the sacred vessels and the Tabernacle.
Question: Why did Betzalel deliberately switch around the order of construction? 
Betzalel remarked: A man builds a house and only afterward places the vessels inside.
Interpretation: Betzalel changed Moses’ order because it was out of sequence.
Question: Who would have the temerity to contradict the master? What kind of a man was Betzalel that he would deliberately change what Moses had said?
Answer: A hero.
A hero is someone both listens and responds. They are alive and fully engaged.
When you speak with God today, speak from your heart. When conversing with peers use the lens of the Almighty to listen. Be attentive. Be awake.

First Message

 

 What I Want

 

I want a community of peers, not just congregants.  There is a great difference between the two.  In the first instance we stand shoulder-to-shoulder bearing Beth Shalom.  In the second instance, there is an imbalance when one person sings boisterously in a largely silent community or a cantor cants alone.  I want you to know that one of the primary reasons I wanted to join you is because I perceived this to be community of involved, interested people.  I liked what I saw heard when we first met.  

I do not like “singing” alone.  My first comment to the leadership of this community many months ago was that I liked to strongly encouarge congregational participation.  For me, the ‘kiss of death’ of my professional life is when a congregational service is a performance.  It must never become that.

I read with interest a recent article in Conservative Judaism, which told of a worshipper who was chastised for “singing to loudly,” (check it out on the Spring issue 2008).  Reading the story made me cringe.  How awful!

In an opera house it is impolite (to say the least) to cough, chat or make any kind of disturbance.  In some houses of worship, it is much the same. Members are supposed to sit with their hands clasped front of them, resting in their lap, silent and attentive.  That is not the Jewish ideal; it is not even Jewish.

The Jewish way is leading with the voice.  It is singing, full-throated and filled with zeal.  The aim of prayer is to touch the Almighty.  One does this by entering into a dialogue; singing praises, crying tears of hope and despair, reaching out of oneself to find a connection with the Holy One.  Go to any uplifting service and ask yourself why it was so meaningful.  The only consistent answer is participation.  Where the members sing out loud and put their soul into their prayers it becomes a spiritual and meaningful event.  I am no different from you: I seek the same experience.

I sometimes wonder if I became a rabbi not because of what I saw as a youngster but despite it.  Services were dull.  The only good part was sitting next to dad and playing with his tzitzit…and later on with mine.  I wondered then if there was a way to change that.

Nowadays when somebody sings too loudly I bless them.  When someone shouts out an “Amen!” I am buoyed.  When members yell, “yasher koach!” after someone receives an aliyah, I grin.  That is the way it is supposed to be. 

God doesn’t like quiet.  Does that sound absurd?  The Talmud actually says that in different words.  The Talmud instructs us that when we pray, “Our ears must hear what our mouth is saying.”  In other words, there is no ‘silent prayer.’  Ever. 

We pray with our mouths and bodies (traditionally, called ‘shuckling’).  We talk to God in much the same way that we speak with one another.  We express ourselves in voice that sometimes rises and falls, with our hands as we gesticulate and with expressiveness that marks our sincerity. 

It is time to leave behind the traditional Protestant modality that we have absorbed a bit too well.  Jews don’t sit still.  We never did.

I hope you find your voice at your shul.

 

 

Mephiboshet

 Text: 2 Samuel 4:4 and 9: 6-13

      "Fear not for I will show you kindness."  
      These words were spoken by King David to Mephiboshet in the king’s chamber.  Mephiboshet was Jonathan's son, Saul's grandson.  Saul, the previous King of Israel, felt threatened by David's existence.  David was popular, fearless and visionary.  Saul, on the other hand, was jealous, myopic and terrified of his countless enemies- real or imagined. Saul was so xenophobic that he actually had assassins try to murder young David. 
     In time, Saul was killed in battle along with his son Jonathan.  When news of the king’s death became known, Saul's family became terrified that they were persona non grata to the new king, David.  They believed their lives were in danger.  They fled as soon as they heard news of Saul’s death, bringing only what their arms could carry at a moment’s notice.  

     The nurse of five-year-old Mephiboshet swept the boy up and ran.  In their anxiety to quickly leave, Mephiboshet fell and broke bones in both his legs.  The legs would never properly heal and Mephiboshet would remain helpless cripple for the rest of his life.
     Years later, King David found out that one of his best friend's  (Jonathan) sons was alive.  He ordered Mephiboshet brought before him.  The young man quivered and shook at the feet of the great king of Israel.  Mephiboshet believed he would be sentenced to death.  The eyes of the monarch grew moist at the sight of this frightened, disabled figure lying before him.
      How often fear motivates our life!  Undoubtedly, Mephiboshet spent years dreading the moment when he would have to face King David.  He probably imagined the terrible things that would happen to him when the king finally caught up with him.  The moment came and nothing happened as he imagined.  The king was benevolent and loving instead of being full of vim and resentment.
     Have you ever been wrong in judging someone?  It happens often. We misjudge a person or an event.  Fear takes over where faith ought to have kept us sure.  Hopelessness is not reality: it is an emotion.  It is the way we feel.  There is no situation which is utterly hopeless, even death.  For every situation we face hopelessness has no basis in realty. 
     Face your fears. You will find they are often "paper tigers" with no substance behind them.  Above all, remember David's words which echo the Divine message from Above, "Fear not for I will show you kindness."