WelcomeAbout UsNews CalendarEventsGivingCommunityEducationContact UsRabbis

From Barak To Barack To Brachot:  Musings on the URJ Biennial

Rabbi Gaylia R. Rooks     23 December 2011    28 Kislev 5772

 

                Last week, just outside Washington, DC,  I joined almost 6,000 other Reform Jews from across North America to participate in the 71st Biennial of the Union for Reform Judaism, the largest Biennial in the history of our movement.   It was the most overwhelming convention I’ve ever attended.  I always enjoy these gatherings, whether congregational or Rabbinical conferences, there is so much learning going on!  There is the joy of reconnecting with old friends and colleagues as well as meeting new people who share common interests.  There is the sheer delight of praying in a larger congregation with Jews from across the nation and singing songs, new and old.  If you’ve never experienced Shabbat with over five thousand REFORM Jews, you’re missing a truly powerful experience.  Then there are side delicacies like “the exhibit hall” which is basically the largest Judaica shop you’ve ever seen (in this case there were 600 separate vendors!) and my personal favorite, the late-night song sessions with  the opportunity to sing old favorites and learn brand new songs from people ranging from the most famous, to the most up and coming musicians in the movement. 

                There were so many performers at this biennial, including Craig Taubman, Josh Nelson, Danny Nichols, Julie Silver, Rick Recht, Michele Citron.... the list goes on and on.  The only one who wasn’t there was Debbie Friedman and her absence was a painful loss.  There was a touching tribute to her life and work and the establishment of an award in her memory--not just for someone who has devoted their life to Jewish music, but also has changed the face of Judaism through their efforts.  The first recipient of the Debbie Friedman Award for Contributions to Jewish Music was Theodore Bikel and he spoke and sang for us in a moving and magnificent program.  I was amazed at how much he has done to enhance Jewish life beyond his role as Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof- which he has performed more than any other single actor, over 2,000 times!

                I will restrain myself from going on (and on!) about the incredible musicians who were part of this Biennial, but just say: if you’ve never heard of world-renowned David Broza with his flamenco-style guitar and rich Israeli baritone or New York’s Six13, a Jewish  a capella  group that sounds like a full band – while using nothing but their voices, you are missing something truly phenomenal!

                I hope you have all heard by now about President Obama’s address to the Biennial, you can hear the whole thing on the URJ website--but believe me, you can’t recreate the experience of actually being there.  This was my third opportunity to be in the same room while Obama spoke.  I felt so sorry for the exhibitors who lost all their shoppers while thousands of delegates waited in the security lines, so I decided to “be righteous” and go shopping instead.  I knew there was an overflow room set up with instant video-feed and resigned myself to listen to the president’s speech from next door.  But, you’d be surprised how easy it was to run through security at the last minute and find a single empty seat, not in the last row but maybe 2/3 of the way back.  I may have heard the president twice before, but this was the first time I felt he was speaking personally to me!  It was incredible--truly amazing and inspiring!

                Did I say I slipped in at the last minute?  Well, what was Supposed to be the last minute!  The president’s appearance was more than half an hour late....Apparently Barack was meeting with Barak!  The President spoke with Israel’s Deputy Prime Minister and Minister of Defense, Ehud Barak, behind the stage.  The news feed from The Chicago-Sun Times read:  President Barack Obama is delaying a speech at the Union of Reform Judaism Conference here to meet backstage with Israeli Defense Minister Ehud Barak. While thousands are waiting for Obama to deliver a major speech on domestic and Israeli issues, Jewish folk rock singer Josh Nelson is filling time--with tunes ranging from the Channukah standard "Rock of Ages" to "Great Balls of Fire" to "Bashana Haba'ah," which means in the year to come.

               

                Poor Josh, for a performer who can literally go all night in a song session without having to even think about what to play next, he was pretty much sweating bullets as he was told, song after song, to.... keep stretching, the President wasn’t ready to come out yet!  But finally he did, to a cheering, standing ovation from over 6,000 Jews.  After the expected thank you’s and appreciation for the invitation, and a shout-out to all the NFTY participants (which received a deafening roar of appreciation from the youth!) he delivered his promised address ranging from domestic to Israeli issues.  

                He began (and this was my favorite part!) by saying that his daughter, Malia, has become the family expert on Jewish tradition being of the age when so many of her friends are becoming Bat or Bar Mitzvah.  When he asked if she had any advice for him in preparing to speak to this audience of 6,000 Reform Jews, she confidently told him what she had learned: it never hurts to start by referring to the weekly Torah portion!  And that’s just what the President did!!!  He noted that the parshah about Joseph the dreamer contains the Hebrew word “Hineini-Here I Am” four different times and that we need to learn from that how crucial it is for each and every one of us to respond “Hineini-Here I Am” to the call of our generation, to the needs of our time, just as Joseph did in days of old.

                I won’t go through his whole talk, as I said you can listen to it on-line at URJ.org, but as I’m sure you’ve read in the papers, he set the record straight on his commitment to Israel saying: “No US administration has done more in support of Israel's security than ours. None.” To back up his position, The President cited America’s cooperation with Israel on developing the Iron Dome, an anti-rocket system that protects Israel from the continuing attacks from the Gaza Strip,  and his administrations ongoing actions to counter attempts to delegitimize Israel in any way, especially the Palestinian’s recent bid to the United Nations.  “America's commitment to Israel and my commitment to Israel and its security are unshakable," the President reiterated, time and again.

                He quoted the famous saying from Pirkei Avot, Ethics of our Ancestors, that “one is not required to finish the work, but neither can we desist from it,” and assured us that America would work for "an independent Palestine alongside a secure, Jewish state of Israel," even if that outcome would not be actualized under his administration. "The fact that peace is hard can't deter us from trying."              

                My personal opinion--Barack Obama was awesome, he really hit this one right out of the ballpark!  And no one can deny the power and import of the very fact that he is the first sitting president to address a URJ Biennial:  that alone is as significant as his inspiring and meaningful message.

                Just as Barack Obama met with Ehud Barak before speaking to the crowd, I had the opportunity to hear the Israeli Minister of Defense, past Prime Minister of Israel, the day before the President.  Ehud Barak is the most decorated soldier ever in the history of Israel.  His mentor was Yitzchak Rabin, of blessed memory, and the civil issues of religion and state were at the core of his campaign, as well.  Barak supports the Reform Movement in Israel and fights for the combined goals of security and peace with the commitment to a liberal democracy.  He was the not the first nor the last to say as much, but he commented on how appropriate it was that the Religious Action Center had been founded under the administration of President John F. Kennedy and now would be addressed by a similar such president-committed to social justice and righteousness-Barack Obama.  

                Deputy Prime Minister Ehud Barak went on to declare that “the ties between Israel and the US under President Obama are stronger and deeper than ever... and we are all thankful for his unwavering support of a secure, independent, and Jewish state in the Land of Israel.”  When it comes to hearing the voice of American Reform Jews he confessed that: it moved us a lot, this support from over the seas, when we needed support; in  particular the Iron Dome that intercepts incoming rockets that can now reach almost every inch of our Israel .  Between Hamas run Gaza, controlled by Iran, to Hizbolla in Southern Lebanon, also sponsored by Iran, Israel faces daily threats.  But, as he pointed out, while it “only takes one party to make war, to make peace you need two to tango!...History has shown that the only way to reach an agreement is through direct negotiations” and that is what it will take to maintain the only Jewish Democratic State in the world that must remain just that:  Jewish and Democratic!

                Barak not only acknowledged the importance of the opinions of World Jewry, he agreed that the voice of the Reform Movement in North America was essential in Israel’s “decision making” and that they value the input and debate that the URJ offers.  Reminding us that with two Jews you get three opinions, he suggested that in Israel that’s more like four or five!  Still, he recognized with appreciation that hundreds of roadblocks and checkpoints had been removed and revised based on pressure from America’s Jews.

                He ended his comments by wishing everyone a Happy Chanukah and acknowledging our help and solidarity in accomplishing a miraculous Chanukah event:  the return of Gilad Shalit after six Chanukahs away from his home and family.

                So from Barak to Barack to Brachot--beyond Ehud Barak and Barack Obama, I’d like to highlight just a few of the other Brachot, blessings, from the Biennial.  For me, the opportunity for Torah study and Jewish learning is paramount.  I’ll share a tiny summary on just a few of the things I learned...first, a new word:  Hybridity.  Professor Steven Cohen defines this as the many identities modern Jews have floating around inside of them.  Many of us are familiar with the term “JewBuh” referring to Jews who have embraced a Buddhist philosophy of living.  Apparently that’s old school.  Now we have people who identify themselves as being  Jewish with their mom and Christian with their dad and a whole variety of other hybrid identities.

                Prof. Leonard Saxe taught me a new acronym “DIY: Do It Yourself” Judaism.  “Just Jewish” is the fastest growing, non-denominational Judaism in North America.  In the 2010 study of people who were raised as Reform Jews, only half identify as adults with Reform Judaism; only 51% of those who grew up as Reform Jews!  46% are Just-Jewish; (2% are Conservative, 1% Reconstructionist, and 1% Orthodox).  

                Speaking of Reform Jews and statistics, here’s a frightening one:  Birthright Israel, that wonderful program that sends young adults to Israel, leaves behind more Jews than it takes on every single trip, and the majority of those left behind-you guessed it-are Reform.  That the endowment is not large enough to sponsor everyone who applies is understandable, that those who are not accepted are largely Reform Jews, is not.

                A great deal of my time was spent with our outstanding Religious Action Center, now celebrating its 50th year of spreading Jewish values of equality, justice and the separation of religion and politics.  Great progress has been made towards equality in recent years including the right to gay marriage in NY, a national LGBT-inclusive hate crimes law, and the repeal of the “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy in the military.  Still there is much work remaining to be done. 

                120 of us began our Day With the RAC at the White House to hold conversations about U.S. aid to Israel and our role in achieving a peaceful two-state solution.  We then continued on to the Israeli Embassy to talk with Israeli Ambassador to the U.S.- Michael Orren.  I have always admired Ambassador Orren and been impressed by his brilliance and wealth of knowledge and experience.  I knew he was that rare breed, a Reform Israeli Jew, but I learned that he’s actually a member of my favorite congregation in Jerusalem! How much higher can the man go in my esteem!  He also helped to ease my fears of the delay in preventing Iran from attaining their nearly completed goal of achieving weapons grade nuclear potential.  Briefly put I would say that within half a year, one way or another, that nightmare will be resolved.

                Our three busses then went on to Capital Hill to meet with four Jewish members of Congress: Alyson Schwartz from Pennsylvania shared that her mother is a Holocaust survivor who came to America when she was 16 years old.  She instilled in her daughter a tremendous love of the US and the freedom and security it represents for all its citizens.  Representative John Salazar of Colorado was raised in the Reform Movement in San Diego.  He believes that politicians are more followers than leaders and encouraged us to make our voices heard.  In order of effectiveness he suggests calling, writing letters, emailing, and signing petitions (in that order)it really does make a difference.  Henry Waxman from California was most articulate in expressing his frustration at what he calls the worst partisan, unproductive Congress in the history of this great nation.  And last, but certainly not least, Howard Berman of California, a long-time friend and supporter of both the RAC and Israel.  

                There were more Israelis at this Biennial than ever before including two fascinating speakers I heard: former Russian Refusnik, Natan Sharansky, and  Anat Hoffman of the Israeli Religious Action Center (now celebrating their 25th anniversary!) Of course there were more Israelis since there were more speakers in general than ever before.  From House Majority Leader Eric Cantor to Fox News political commentator William Kristol, the list goes on and on.  I think the one thing on which the 6,000 delegates of the 2011 URJ Biennial could all agree is: there were simply too many wonderful opportunities and too little time!  It wasn’t only a question of not enough hours in the day to absorb even a fraction of the offerings, it was the fact that every time slot had literally dozens of competing learning opportunities and, well, as the Talmud says:  Even an angel can only dance at one wedding at a time!!!

                It’s late so I’m going to skip over the fact that the theme of this Biennial was the launching of the URJ Campaign for Youth Engagement; the response to our need to engage the next generation of Reform Jews is summed up in the slogan:   We Can Welcome Every Youth!  I’ll also have to let you just read on-line about the passing of the torch of leadership from Rabbi Eric Yoffie who has served magnificently as URJ President for 16 years to Rabbi Rick Jacobs .  They both gave inspiring speeches sharing their vision of the direction our movement needs to take to stem the tide of disaffiliation and ride out the challenges we face due to the current economic times.

                The best good news I can share with you is this:  the 72nd URJ Biennial will be held in two years in sunny San Diego and every member of a URJ congregation is invited to participate!  What is the URJ?  The Union for Reform Judaism, and our Temple was a founding member, in fact, we are the sixth oldest Reform congregation in the county.  And look what we helped to build:  the largest movement of any liberal religion in all of America.  This year’s Biennial hosted Reform Jews from over 500 congregations from 15 different countries.  It is a powerful, meaningful and re-Jew-venating experience--I highly recommend it for all!

 

On Giving and Forgiving

A Sermon for Rosh HaShannah 5772      by Rabbi Gaylia R. Rooks     The Temple

 

                The death of my father-in-law has been difficult in more ways than I had anticipated.  Jim Rapport (along with his son) taught me about “Unconditional Love” -

something I’m not sure I had even heard of 31 years ago, much less ever experienced.  But he loved me; completely, fully, without reservation or conditions.  I would say that I have a better understanding of G!D’s abiding love for me and all people, because of my experience with Dad.

                But somehow Dad’s death has brought up unresolved issues surrounding my own father’s death.  You’re not surprised? Mind you, my father was a great man in many ways, and I always knew he loved me.  He ‘loved’ me.... Even when he wasn’t talking to me, even when he disowned me when I went to Rabbinical School.  Oh, you didn’t know that story?  Well, some other time..... But in his own words, Harvey Rooks “never met a rabbi he didn’t hate.” And you just know G!D has a great sense of humor since he ended up with a daughter, son-in-law, and soon granddaughter, who all wanted to be rabbis!  

                Well, in my fifth year of seminary, I called my father at Rosh HaShannah (as I did every year, even though he wasn’t talking to me) to wish him a healthy and meaningful New Year.  And, this time I also told him that it was really important to me that he be at  my Ordination come the spring.  I reminded him that he came to my wedding, without talking to me!  He understood that a wedding was an extremely significant, and (G!D-willing) once in lifetime experience, so he had come.  Well, I explained, so was my ordination.  I also told him he should bring his mother, Nana Nancy! 

                Apparently Daddy decided that I was right.  He called back a few days later and not only agreed to come (with Nana) to Ordination, but said that he wanted to “see me in the pulpit” as a rabbi and so he was going to fly to my student congregation in Texarkana, TX, to see me on Yom Kippur.  OY!  

                As stressed as I still get, to this day, I never have experienced such panic about the topic of my sermon!!!  My primary goal was to write a sermon that he wouldn’t feel was addressed solely to him rather than the whole congregation.  All I wanted was to write something about forgiveness that would be meaningful, engaging, and relevant to ALL my congregants--without offending my father.

                And so, I decided to use a metaphor that I hoped everyone could relate to easily, but especially Dad.  I called it:  The “Business” of Repentance.  I talked about the traditional Hebrew phrase, cheshbon hanefesh; that The Day of Atonement is a time to literally take an “accounting” of the soul, to look back over the past year.  A holy time, scheduled to examine the “ledger book” of our life and see where we might be lacking or “in the red.”  And it’s true; this is the sacred time when we “take stock” of our lives; a ritual  opportunity to look to the “bottom line” of what’s really important.  I even spoke about the significance of “Prophet and Loss.” How the profits on a balance sheet pale in comparison to the Prophets of the Bible who call to us still from across the generations, inspiring us and reminding us about what truly matters. And while we are often preoccupied with the not insignificant losses of investments and material things, on this Day of Days especially, we need to focus on the real losses in our lives that make an indelible difference; the people who die, the relationships that fail, the promises that are broken.  

 

                Well, let’s just say I pressed the metaphor to its absolute limit--perhaps even beyond, but I was still a Rabbinic student.  At any rate, after services people were very complimentary saying the sermon was inspired, timely, and relevant to their lives.  As we left the Temple, in the car on the way to the break-fast, I finally broke down and asked my father what he thought about my sermon.  He hadn’t said a word... He paused for a moment and observed, “It was kinda short.”  I laughed and told him that was the one thing no one ever complained about!  

                But since that short stay in Texarkana, we began the process of healing and renewing our relationship.  He did come to Ordination and brought Nana Nancy!  A few years later, by the time he became a grandfather, an amazing grandfather, he seemed to have finally made peace with my decision to enter the Rabbinate.

                But he never apologized!  For anything.  I was 47 years old when my father died and I never once heard him ever say he was sorry.  To anyone.  I think he saw it as a sign of weakness.  Quite a difference from my Rapport family who will apologize for anything--like the War in Afghanistan (for which they are truly sorry, even though they had nothing to do with it!)  An interesting study in contrasts.....

                The ability to apologize is a difficult skill to learn.  At least for a Rooks; and I assume for others.  And yet, how do we even begin the “business of forgiveness” if we don’t know how to say we are sorry.  And make no mistake, forgiveness is a huge part of repentance.  These Ten Days of Repentance, the sacred time between Rosh HaShannah and Yom Kippur, are an amazing opportunity for growth and change.  Truly a gift, for what more could we ask? What could be more significant than our ability to become better people?  What could possibly mean more in our lives than to know that we can still evolve and expand our goodness and our caring, our service and our compassion?

                Let’s think ahead for a moment... What is it exactly that we want to happen when we come back to Temple on Yom Kippur?  We know that there is no magic formula, that we can’t just show up, recite certain words, and poof! we are no longer the same!  Our slate is clean, we are forgiven, and the New Year will be filled with blessing.... 

                We pray for that but, in reality, we understand that the Day of Atonement is a heavy responsibility.  And the process, our task, is meant to take a great deal of thought and energy, time and yes, “taking stock” of our lives; examining our souls.  Where are we and where could we be? What receives our energies and attention, our time, our talent, and treasure?  Are we truly focusing on what we believe really matters in the world?  Or are we more caught up in the day to day trivialities that divert us from the things that in our hearts we truly value.

 

                So think ahead for a moment...... What is it exactly that we want to happen when we come back to Temple on Yom Kippur?  We are all seeking forgiveness and love, we want to be part of a community--and we ARE part of a community.  Part of the mishpochah, the family, whether we want to or not! :<}  We are the Children of Israel, a remnant of a great and illustrious people.  And that matters.  Desperately.  Think of all that Judaism and Jews have given to the world.  And being here, actively being a part of the Jewish community, is both a gift and a responsibility.  We are a link in a chain that goes back for over 3,000 years.  

                And the key to all this can be found in understanding a single mystical phrase from our Torah, “V’ahavta l’reiacha kamocha, You shall love your neighbor as your self.”

Out of this one luminous sentence come two critical lessons for these Days of Awe, like two sides of the same coin they are uniquely and irrevocably intertwined.  “V’ahavta l’reiacha kamocha, You shall love your neighbor as your self.”  The deeper, often overlooked part of this message is that until we can first learn to love ourselves, we cannot learn to forgive ourselves.  Then and only then, can we learn to truly love others, and forgive them, as well.

 

                V’ahavta l’reiacha kamocha, You shall love your neighbor as your self.” Hopefully the words sound familiar.  V’ahavta is the name of a prayer, “And you shall love AD!NAI your G!D with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your might.”  That teaches us not only the words ‘and you shall love,’ v’ahavta, but also helps us to accomplish the goal, for when we love our neighbor as our self we are, in fact, loving G!D.

 

                You shall love your neighbor as your self.” Only it’s not always as easy as it seems.  First of all, it presumes that we do, indeed, love ourselves.  I don’t think we can just automatically take that for granted.  For many this is harder than we think.  And yet, we are, all of us, created “b’tzelem EL!HIM”, in the image of G!D.  That spark of the Divine which lies within us all is precisely what our mission in life is all about.  We need to nurture the spark and protect it.  We need to feed the tiny ember within until it is a steady flame that burns and glows with the knowledge that we are, each one of us, a part of G!D, a part of a divine plan, a precious individual.  And, each act of righteousness we do, each deed of lovingkindness we perform, eachmitzvah, nourishes and helps that spark to grow.  By the same token, every time we are hurtful, to ourselves or others, we add more ash that clogs and chokes the spark, preventing it from dancing with its true potential.

                It all begins by learning to love and respect ourselves.  After all, we ARE made b’tzelem El!him, in the image of the Divine; little lower than the angels, according to Jewish tradition.  Only then can we share this powerful belief and sacred love with others.  Only then can we truly work to make peace within ourselves and with others.

 

                                        Many of us are much harder on ourselves than we are on anyone else. And while it’s a good thing to have high expectations and serious goals, a big part of forgiveness has to start within our own hearts.  We all know people who are either too full of themselves or too self-effacing; it’s a difficult and narrow path to walk.  But in reality, often those who go overboard in either direction are suffering the same kinds of insecurities.  We must believe in our own basic goodness and our willingness to continue trying to improve.  That means treating ourselves with respect and dignity, patience and forbearance.  We are not perfect, none of us!  But that’s not a surprise.  If G!D had intended for us to be perfect, G!D would have created us that way!  And then how boring would life be, and what would we do during this Season of Repentance?  For we surely do have our work cut out for us.  Forgiveness begins within our own hearts for our own imperfect selves.  Not that we would should become, G!D-forbid, complacent or overly self-satisfied.  Just that we should have faith in our own intrinsic goodness and strive to walk more consciously the path of righteousness.  

                Then, as we nurture the spark of the Divine in our own hearts, we find it easier to show kindness and graciousness to our family members. Our immediate family; parents, siblings, in-laws... and extended family, as well.  The ripples spread and each life we touch with goodness and love goes on to touch others.  And, have no doubt about it, this in turn radiates warmth and love, compassion and kindness back into our own lives.

                With this increase in well-being, we are even more able to spread love to others. “V’ahavta l’reiacha kamocha, You shall love your neighbor as your self.” Here we are, sitting side by side, within the context of our larger family, our Temple congregation.  Make no mistake about it; they need us.  And we need them.  Just think of how glad you are that they are here today to help you celebrate the New Year of 5772.  Imagine Rosh HaShannah without our beautiful building, devoted rabbis, inspiring music; without our  friends and family.  Imagine what living in Louisville would be like if we didn’t have a caring Jewish community.  One that supports this amazing Temple and all the myriad experiences that go on here.  Think about not having services for holidays and Shabbat, not having a congregation to help you mourn your losses, celebrate your joys, teach your children, teach you- at every age!  If we didn’t join together to fight injustice and feed the hungry, clothe the naked, shelter the homeless.  If we didn’t have people willing to devote their time and energy to the nitty-gritty details of organizing prayer services and onegs, programs and classes.  From the day a new child is welcomed into the House of Israel to the day we breathe our last breath, this is our home.  Whether we wish to pray for healing or give thanks for recovery, this is our home.  Whether we study Torah, learn Hebrew, or get involved in social action, this is our home.  

               

                So, what kind of home to we want our congregation to be? There’s a popular phrase that says “It is what it is!” But I disagree--it is what we make it.  It will be what it will be, what it can be if we would just reach out and care about who and what we are becoming.  When G!D appeared to Moses at the Burning Bush and Moshe Rabeinu asked, ‘When the Children of Israel ask Who has sent me, what shall I tell them?” [Ex 3:13] The Eternal One replied, “Eheyeh Asher Eheyeh, I Will BE Who I Will BE; I will be who I am becoming.”  And that, my friends, is perhaps the greatest lesson for these Days of Awe:  we will be who we will be, based on who we are becoming.  And the choice lies firmly within our own hands.

                My father, Jim Rapport, alav hashalom, had a PhD in Shakespeare, so I’m glad you can’t tell him this, but my favorite Jewish Philosopher of the modern age, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, disagreed with William Shakespeare.  He insisted that “the essential question is not ‘To be or not to be,’ but rather HOW to be!”  

                And that is our question for these Ten Days of Repentance until we return home again on Yom Kippur: How shall we be?  Who shall we be?  And who are we choosing to become?  In our own lives, in the lives of those we love, in the life of this community whose future is ours to choose.

                May it be a year of thoughtful choices and sacred commitments.  May it be a year of forgiveness and of love.  May it be a year of great health, fulfillment, and meaning for us all.

                Amen.                                    L’Shannah Tovah!

Yom Kippur 5771
G!D
Yamim Noraim 5771

NOT SIN BUT TESHUVAH


When my mother asked, which she does each year, what I would be preaching about for Kol Nidre, I answered: "Sin."   
So she asked:  "Are you for it or against it?!"
It's an interesting thing tho: there is no actual word for SIN in Hebrew 
WE, People of Book, who love words/writing so much..(& are famous for our guilt!).... 
no word for SIN, use word cheit: lit= "missing the mark"  
(like arrow shot at target + misses) --but no actual word
Papa Jack, mother's fath,  Loved words                        
taught me that more words lang has for same thing, more impt concept is to culture:
-was reminded this summer: Iceland 30th anniv (land of the ice and snow) 
saw ad for parka from clothing company=66@N!
Ad said: "There are over 100 words in Icelandic for snow, but only one for clothes!"
**Papa Jack, not born in Old Country --understood Yiddish, but only spoke a bisel 
     (to  communic w/family- only not mom so she could learn Eng¬ be such  ?Greener'
When told him studying Yiddish at Brandeis: "Yiddish, such a rich/ colorful language "Yiddish has more synonyms for aches&pains!"  each place of body has own word for kvetching!  &Pointing to dift parts of body, proceded to tell me how it "crahnks" me here, and "krekhtz me there..."  I don't know
 I really wish learned words he was telling me--what I wouldn't give for a video!  (YouTube)

Still, no real word SIN in Hebrew (We, People *Book, we who love words/writing so much) 
We have words other people don't even HAVE 
Intro book Chutzpah Alan Dershowitz asks 4an Engl equiv to this uniquely Jewish word!
Even Leo Rosten in "Joys of Yiddish" says of Chutzpah that it is "...presumption plus arrogance such as no other word, in no other language can do justice to."

As Jews, we know words impt-we who brought world idea of Creating by power of Words 
"and G!D said, ?Let there be light!  And there was light.'"
Even the most famous magic word "Abracadabra" is Jewish!/Gen
(Abara K'dabara: I will create as I speak)
**On YK  we're esp'lly reminded impt of words (once spoken never be retrieved)  
words like arrows, once shot from the bow can never be returned to quiver
This is wonderful image & it relates to Jewish concept of sin, which we call cheit --
--even tho that's not exactly the word in Hebrew 
**Cheit is missing the mark-like that arrow that was shot but missed the target. 
TRUTH: not that Jud has no word for sin, but has several words to define the concept
r dift words-each w/specific NUANCE-- cheit is sort of generic term
Pesha:  transl "trespass"=deliberate sin, intentional act in delib defiance of G!D       (comes from root for rebellion, transgression, or trespass)
 Avon: lit'ly "iniquity"=sin of lust/uncontrolled emotions-knowingly-only not 2defy G!D                                             = sin done out of moral failing (root=perversity, moral evil, iniquity or fault)
 Aveira:  "transgression"   it's a missed opportunity to do what is right      often used Yid    --"Oy, Would be such aveirah if didn't get involved in new Endmt: T Fund4Future!"                Best def of aveirah=opp of mitzvah (taught 1 m leads2 another,1  aveira, 1 transgress...
  Cheit:  "to go astray" = unintentional sin, crime or fault  
(root, as said: to miss, stumble, err from the mark)

So, what do we do about all these dift kinds of sins?  
*Judaism teaches that Prayer, Repentance, and Tzedakah are the ways to atone for sin.  
Prayer=path to return from sin; a road that leads away from transgression and towards what  we know in our hearts we can be.  It's why we've gathered here this eve!  
YK we participate personal & communal prayer -Impt to recite confessions of guilt 
in collective "we", to be part of our congr as together we confess 
our moral and ethical wrongdoings
Great gift able to pray in cong  YK-reminds us connection w/ each other 
-our interdependence and responsibility for each other-=powerful bonding exper
--we all make mistakes, all acknowldge we are vulnerable & human
If sin is wandering off the track of righteousness, prayer helps us to recognize and return to the path of holiness. (Connecting us to Divine in most direct way)

Tzedakah:  altho commonly transl as charity, far more than that 
comes from  Heb root=justice & concept incl, beyond giving $, perform righteous deeds
They don't make up for the wrong that we do, but more right deeds we perform, helps to counteract the ways we have "missed the mark".
In Bible, Proph Hosea (14:3) tells us: "Take your words and return to G!D"  
your WORDS cuz we know how impt words are and the power they carry

*& just as many Jewish words for sin have many meanings, Jewish word for our response,
the antidote to sin, has many nuances, as well.
**Jewish concept of repentance or atonement is called "Teshuvah"  
Teshuvah means to "turn and return to G!D", = the ultimate response to doing wrong, returning to the path of holiness and righteousness
Accding to Wikipedia (NOT my Bible!) ""Atonemnt to Jews means to repent and set aside, and the word "T'shuvah" used for atonement actually means "to return".  Judaism is optimistic in that it always sees a way that a determined person may return to what is good, and that God waits for that day too."    I like that! 
It also says: "Jud teaches that sin is an act, and not a state of being."
I think that's the dif betwn Teshuvah  and Atonement or Repentance
--not just turning away from negative(-) but turning toward positive (+)
Turn from old ways toward G!D, to-others in our lives, to-our true selves=better selves 
& that is something we Can do--YK inspires us go on: to turn from thoughts to deeds; 
from looking@selves to transforming way we act in world
---And we believe that this is not only poss, but nec!  Reason RH before YK!
Often asked why we don't observe YK before RH:  why don't repent before New Yr-> begins and start w/clean slate?  Think about it:
1st we celebrate New Yr w/all its poss's & promises of change, potential 4 being better 
Shofar calls on RH, wake us up to our capacity for renewal, 
remind us of new hopes that await --and call us join in struggle to transform ourselves

Prayer, Tzedakah, and Teshuvah, turning and returning,  are an integral part of being Jewish.  We don't do them only on YK but many times thru-out the year.  That's why we don't believe that doing something wrong makes a blot or stain on our souls.  We are taught that our souls are pure, breathed into us by the Holy One who created us.  And when we have done wrong, we can always "Turn and Return" to G!D--which helps inspire in us the abililty and commitment to do right.
A great Chassidic Rebbe once told his students that they must be sure to repent on the day before their death.  "But, Rabbi" said one of the disciples, "how can we know the day of our death?"  The Tzadik responded, "That is why you must repent each and every day.  Return to the Source who created you."


In my favorite book, "God Was In This Place & I, i Did Not Know" by Rabbi Lawrence Kushner, he examines the concepts of evil and failure.  He wrote:
"We go down into ourselves with a flashlight, looking for the evil we have intended or done-- not to excise it as some alien growth, but rather to discover the holy spark within it. We begin not by rejecting the evil but by acknowledging it as something we meant to do. This is the only way we can truly raise or redeem it. 
We lose our temper because we want things to be better right now. We gaze with lustful eyes because we have forgotten how to love the ones we want to love. We hoard material possessions because we imagine they will help us live more fully. We turn a deaf ear, for we fear the pain of listening would kill us. We waste time, because we are not sure how to enter a living relationship."
I believe, with Rabbi Kushner, that the root of these behaviors is something that was once holy.  What makes Yom Kippur so powerful is spending the day seeking to Return to holiness, to light, and to a ongoing relationship w/ G!D.  If we address our task with honesty and humility, we literally face our personal and collective ?failures to make the mark' and "allow them to creep out of the cellar, begging to be healed, freed and redeemed."
This gift of teshuvah, which only we can give ourselves, by honestly turning and returning to our loving Creator, is not about self-rejection or
remorse, but the healing that comes from telling ourselves the truth about our real intentions and, finally, accepting ourselves for who and what we are.  Not perfect, by any means, for although we were created in the image of G!D, the Holy One did not make us to be perfect; only the best we can be. 
"This does not mean that we are now proud of who we were or what we did, but it does mean that we have taken what we did back into ourselves, acknowledged it as part of ourselves. We have found its original motive, realized how it became disfigured, perhaps beyond recognition, made real apologies, done our best to repair the injury, but we no longer try to reject who we have been and therefore who we are, for even that is an expression of the Holy One of Being."
As we look inward and examine our lives, we can sincerely appraise our behavior and identify our failings whether they be based on petty jealousies or large-scale envy; whether we "worship" the gods of money or fame, prestige or power.  We, who have no word for sin, but several different expressions, know in our hearts what is wrong and what is right; what brings goodness and blessing to our lives, and what is selfish and leads us astray. 
  Judaism believes that in being created with free will, we are each imbued with different impulses.  Just as we bear the responsibility for our wrong choices, we also have the ability to choose well and follow our impulse to do what is right.  Even the things we do which we know to be wrong have a deeper meaning, a hidden need behind them.  They represent an inclination that needs to be channelled towards the good.  When we feel our evil inclination wrestling with our good inclination, our yetzer ra struggling to overwhelm our yetzer tov, we need to genuinely decide which path we choose to walk at that moment.  And Judaism teaches us that, while this is never easy, it is the most worthwhile endeavor of our lives, the very essence of meaningful living. 
There's a lovely midrash that encourages us to consider, with each action we take, as if the world was evenly balanced at that very moment between righteousness and evil.  If we knew that our next word or deed would tip the scales for good or bad, how might that impact our behavior?  And who among us knows whether this is true at any moment?  Let us resolve to pay better attention and consider the effects of our ways, not only on our own lives, but on the lives of others, and ultimately, our world.  For we, each of us-having been made in the image of the Divine, are called to be the very best we can be: Holy, for the Eternal One our G!D is holy.  Righteous, because we choose to be a force for good in this world.  Caring, because, although we don't expect to be perfect, we know we can be better.
In the end, we know we will still make mistakes, choose wrongly, go astray.  But that does not ever mean that we can't turn back, teshvuah, return to the path of goodness and right.  We need to focus, all year long, on the positive things we should be doing to help rebalance the scales.  No, we are not perfect, but we can be better.  We can do more things that are good and right, we can choose wisely more often.  


We are called, on this Day of Days, to honestly assess the content and the quality of our lives, to regret and admit our failures, and commit to embarking on a new direction. The climax of this effort comes on Yom Kippur during the vidui prayer, the confession that lies at the very heart of the service and asks us to truly consider the realities of our sins.  It challenges us to honestly confront what we have done with our lives; to commit to the ongoing and difficult path of constantly aspiring for more from ourselves.

Rejecting or denying our sins only postpones the ultimate task we face of healing ourselves.  Accepting ALL of ourselves is another way of finding G!D.  By doing teshuvah, turning and returning to G!D, we participate in this most sacred and healing mission.  G!D has told us:  Turn toward Me and I will turn toward you."   Over and again our liturgy stresses our frailty and our failings as we are helped to confront our innermost selves, standing before the One who truly knows us, and truly loves us.  
YK is like a mirror that reflects back to us who we are, but we must always hold also, the vision of our highest selves; we can have no illusions as to who we are, but also no limitations as to who we might yet become.  The goal of YK is not to beat up on ourselves for doing wrong, but to inspire us to do right; to recognize that we are capable of turning and returning, of teshuvah, of being held--in G!D's loving arms, and in our own.
The prayer at the core of Yom Kippur, the great communal confession,  is  recited while standing together as a congregation. In unison we list our sins:  For the sin that we have sinned against You by word of mouth or by deed, for the sin that we have sinned against You by arrogance or hypocrisy , for the sin that we have sinned against You by not respecting our parents or teachers.  It goes on and on, listing our transgressions, identifying where we have indeed stumbled along the way. And there's a tradition, still maintained by some, of beating the breast with each sin we recite.  We thump a gentle fist over our hearts as we express our sorrow for falling short of the mark.  
Rabbi Kushner has an interpretation of this tradition that really touches me.  He says:  "When we say the viddui, [the confessional prayer] we don't hit ourselves, we hold ourselves." (Rabbi Lawrence Kushner, G!D Was In This Place)  What a beautiful image that is:  we hold ourselves.  Not beating ourselves up but holding ourselves up to a higher standard that we know we can achieve.  Not self-flagellation, but self commitment, holding ourselves accountable for our words and our deeds.  Not hitting but holding ourselves and nurturing the best that is within us.  Recognizing that we are not "bad" people, we are human.  And despite our failings, we are worthy at heart; worthy of love--from G!D, from others, from ourselves.  We should not attack ourselves or revile ourselves, for we are children of G!D.
I have a prayer for you, a Viddui, not the trad'l confession, not one that reminds us of all we have done wrong, but encourages us to do what is right and see within ourselves the ability to be better, inspiring us to grow with the hope that it might bring us closer to feeling G!D's nurturing Presence enfolding us in wings of love.



Yizkor Pesach 5770     Rabbi Gaylia R. Rooks    5 April 2010

I hope you've had a wonderful, sweet, and fulfilling Passover.  It's truly an amazing holiday, filled with such powerful symbols and rituals, and such touching  memories.  Pesach is the single most observed Jewish holiday of the year.  More Jews were at a seder  last week than were in a synagogue for Rosh HaShannah or Yom Kippur.  And why?  Because Pesach is the quintessential Jewish holiday.  It appeals to the child in each one of us.  It fills our need for connectedness and rootedness.  It fills our souls with awe and appreciation.  It fills our hearts with joy and song.  It fills every one of our senses, especially that most Jewish sense:  taste!  
The power of taste and smell to bring memories to life is one of the great 
wonders of this festival.  From the bitterness of slavery found in horseradish to the sweetness of freedom in charoset, these are some of our most compelling memories as a people.  And the traditional foods, melodies, and games of the seder recall tales of the more recent past, as well. 
At Shabbat dinner this week at Temple we were telling stories of Pesach memories.  I was asking people to share their favorite matzah ball memories.  You see my Nana Rose, my mother's mother (alehah hashalom), was an amazing cook.  Her matzah balls were so light, so fluffy we had to tie them down with strings to be sure they didn't just float away!!!  And such flavor-mmmmm.  When I was a child, my own mother attempted to make matzah balls with apparently much less success.  Each time she tried, my father would taste them and say, "Not bad...not as good as MY mother's, but not bad....."  My poor mother.  Somehow we never quite recollected at those moments, that my father's mother, Nana Nancy (may she rest in peace), wasn't really a great cook.  With four sons, she was what you would call a prolific cook, but not so much a good cook.  
Well, I still remember the night when my mother was in a tizzy because for some reason (the moon and stars not being properly aligned), her matzah balls just didn't rise, or fluff, or whatever you call it that matzah balls do simmering in their sea of sweet chicken soup.  These were more like golf balls, in size, shape, and density.  Really, they were so hard, if they didn't break your foot on impact, they would bounce.
Two hours later we are all seated at the table ready for dinner.  Comes the dreaded moment when my father (alav hashalom) cuts into one with his spoon.  "Hmmmm" he says lifting the steaming broth surrounding a piece of matzah ball.  He puts it in his mouth and slowly chews--an odd expression on his face.  Then he slams his open hand down onto the kitchen table and exclaims:  "Now THAT'S a matzah ball!"
Did I mention that his mother really wasn't a very good cook!!!  But somehow, the best matzah balls are the ones like our mothers made, or our grandmothers!
One more quick story that actually surpasses my usual favorite about the Texas sized matzah balls with gravy I ate during my student pulpit experience in Texarkana (with fork and knife, mind you, never in soup).  I heard this story just last Shabbat from Joe and Lois Fineman.  Apparently their son was away from home for the first time during Pesach when he started studying at Yale University.  Imagine how excited this young Louisville Jew was upon discovering that there in the cafeteria at school was chicken soup with matzah balls!  It was going to be Passover after all!  He sits down at the table, lifts his spoon, dips it into the broth and cuts into a piece of the little matzah ball.  Salivating with anticipation he puts it into his mouth prepared to taste a little memory of home when....
uh!  It was a gefilte fish ball!!!!!   

I've been asking myself four new questions this Passover, starting with:  Why is it that no one can make matzah balls like your mother's?
Why is it that the most famous Jewish recipes are often for Passover foods?
Why are some of our favorite Passover memories tied in with chopped liver or gefilte fish, tzimis, kugel  or finding the afikomen?
And finally, why do we observe Yizkor on the festival of Pesach?

I think all of these questions are really tied together.  Especially the ones about food.  Traditionally all recipes get handed down from one generation to another, but there is something extra special about Passover recipes.  They carry within them a unique challenge, the challenge of being a Passover recipe.  After all, anyone can make good mandlebrot (or so I've been told).  Cheesecake isn't that hard with its delicious graham cracker crust.  But on Pesach, when you are limited by law as to the very ingredients that are permited, now that's a challenge!  Foods that are kosher for Passover carry an inherent challenge within them;  it's not so easy to make matzah balls rise or tasty Pesadike desserts.  There are extra rules that make these foods extra special.  And these rules for the recipes of Passover are Jewish rules that have been passed down from generation to generation, just like the Judaism of which they are a part.  It's not just recipes that are being taught with the special challenges they entail, it's the Jewish challenge of creating a just and righteous system of living.
Far more than the rules and the recipes get handed down--the values of Passover get handed down, as well.  We all know these values, we teach them and repeat them every year, just as we have been commanded, just as we heard in the Torah portion this morning.  The poor bread--the bread of affliction that reminds us to provide so that "all who are hungry may come and eat."  We are commanded to care for the needy and the poor, the hungry and the homeless.  
Repeated more times than any other phrase in the entire Torah are the words, "you shall not oppress the stranger for you were strangers in the land of Egypt."  We know what it means to be persecuted and oppressed and we are reminded again and again to treat the stranger who dwells among us as the home born.  It's not just recipes that are being passed down through the generations of our people with the special challenges they entail, it's the values, a Jewish challenge of creating a world worthy of God's holy Presence.  Last year we were slaves, next year may all be free; for as long as some are not free, we are, none of us free.
And so, to answer my fourth and final question:  when we gather for the Passover seder and eat these special foods made with their special challenges, when we tell and retell these tales of liberation, participate in rituals that have been passed down throughout the generations of our people, what better time for Yizkor?

What better time to remember with gratitude those who taught these sacred lessons to us?  Our grandparents and parents...What better time to remember with devotion those who once sat at the seder table with us as we relived the miraculous story of our deliverance?  Our sisters and brothers, uncles and aunts, cousins and friends.....What better time to remember with love those who sang the songs of Dayeinu and Chad Gadya?  Our husbands or wives, our loved ones, our life's partners, our precious children....
Yes, at this time of our rejoicing, our celebration of freedom, our thanksgiving for rebirth and renewal and redemption, we still choose to pass down one more challenge:  the holy task of honoring the lives of those who have died.  We remember them, each and every one, who added so much meaning to our lives.  We remember them and give thanks for the love they shared with us and the memories they have bequeathed to us.  We remember them and rededicate ourselves to passing on their stories and their values, their recipes and their faith in the goodness of this world.  May this Yizkor bring warm and loving memories that mingle with Pesach tastes and smells and unique challenges--to build a world filled with justice and freedom for all God's children.

And let us say, Amen.

Yizkor Sermon for Pesach 5769
 

"Each Person Has a Name"
A Yizkor Sermon for Pesach 5769
Rabbi Gaylia R. Rooks

The prayer we just read was written by an Israeli prize winning poet called simply, Zelda.  Born in the Ukraine on June 20, 1914, Zelda Schneersohn Mishkovsky came from an illustrious line of rabbis.  Her father was the great, great, grandson of the third Lubavitcher Rebbe (Menachem Mendel Schneerson) and her mother was the descendant of a Sefardic dynasty that traced its roots back to 11th century Barcelona.  They were among the founders of the Chabad movement of Chassidic Judaism.
Soon after 1925, when the family moved to Mandate Israel, she experienced the traumatic deaths of both her father and grandfather.  Zelda attended a religious girl's school and became a well-known and highly respected teacher.  One of her most famous students, Israeli novelist Amos Oz, relates having had a schoolboy crush on her.
It was not until 1967 that her first book of poetry was published but it was immediately embraced by both religious and secular readers.  She drew on her deep-rooted knowledge of Judaism, her passion for Jewish mysticism, and a love of the Russian fairy tales from her youth.  Her most famous awards include the Brenner Prize ('67), the national Bialik Prize ('77), and the coveted Wertheim Prize ('82).  
Zelda married in 1950 but her husband died after only 21 years.  They had no children.
What I love best about her poetry is the way she draws on the Bible, particularly the Psalms.  Her deep familiarity with these poems of praise and supplication prepared her to relate to the Divine in meaningful and intimate ways.  She also reveals her profound understanding of Jewish mysticism and draws heavily on images from the prophet Ezekiel and his mystical visions.  The depth and breath of her religious education enabled her to embrace a contemplative style in the tradition of early Chabad Chassidism and she takes the reader with her as she delves into her search for the Divine in the world.
One of her hallmark features is found within her lyrical style:  searching for inner meanings hidden within ordinary things and daily events.  Zelda possesses a singular fluidity in her division between the emotional and reflective, the mundane and the holy. The integrity of her search for meaning invites us to join her in the sacred task of recognizing the Presence of God in the world.

The poem in our Siddur, "Each Person Has a Name," is called in Hebrew, "L'chol Ish Yeish Sheim."  I first learned of it in the late 1970s when I was a student at Brandeis where I heard a version of it set to music on a record by my favorite female, Israeli vocalist, Chavah Alpershtein.  The words were so compelling and moving, and more importantly, I could actually understand most of them.  I'm still proud to say that I looked up the definitions of every word I didn't already know!  But it was the meaning behind the simple vocabulary that captured me and that has made this into a lasting poem, worthy of inclusion in our new Mishkan Tefillah prayerbook.

Each person has a name given to them by God and given to them by their father and mother.
Well, we all know the name that our parents gave us, but what exactly does she mean about a name that God gave us?  And we are immediately drawn into the contemplative.  She invites us to consider what God our Creator might have chosen for a name for us at the very moment the breath of life, the Spark of the Divine, was breathed into us.  And what that honor might require of us...
And what about the name that our parents gave to us?  Were you named after someone in particular?  Perhaps a relative that the family wanted to remember, even if it was someone you never personally knew.  What traits of theirs might your parents have hoped you would inherit?
Each person has a name given to them by their height and the nature of their smile and given to them by what they wear.
But we cannot control our height, unless perhaps the deeper meaning is to stand up straight and tall, both figuratively and literally.  Since it's Yizkor, I encourage everyone to consider these words not only as they apply to themselves, but also as they might apply to our loved ones who we remember at this sacred time.  Our fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters, husbands or wives, grandparents and friends, even, painfully, sometimes our children or grandchildren....
So much can be expressed by the nature of our smiles.  Remember how your loved one smiled.  Broad and with lots of teeth showing or more closed mouth but with twinkling eyes?  Let us pause to remember...

            Each person has a name given to them by the hills and given to them by their walls.
This verse always makes me think about the line from the Psalms, "I lift my eyes unto the hills, from where will my help come?  My help comes from Adonai, Maker of Heaven and Earth.  The hills for me (and its the same word for mountain in Hebrew) always represent the lofty places of God's abode.  "Who may ascend the mount of the Lord, who may stand in God's holy place?"
And walls, well, we all have walls.  How much did our loved ones let us in behind their walls, and more importantly, how much did we allow them in beyond ours?  We all have walls, boundaries, sheltering us and protecting us.  This is natural and important, but if we use them as barriers to keep others out then we are doing ourselves a disservice.  How can we ever truly touch and be touched by another person if our armor is so thick that we never let anyone in?  Let us consider how the loved ones we remember on this Pesach day let us in to their hearts and their lives...
Each person has a name given to them by the stars (or constellations) and given to them by their neighbors.
I imagine there are those of us who pay attention to zodiac signs and horoscopes, but I believe that Zelda is using this word as a double entendre, for as we all know, mazal means luck. The question is, how do we view this concept of luck?  Is it fate or do we make our own luck?  This has a great deal to teach us at a Memorial Service, for we can either curse God for taking away those who have died, or we can thank God and feel how truly blessed we are to have had them in our lives for however long we were fortunate to share their love.

Each person has a name given to them by their sins and given to them by their yearnings. 
We all have sins, we all have yearnings.  And so did those who have died.  Their virtues may grow larger with each passing year as our memory of their failings dwindles away, but its good to remember them as they really were, as God created them (and us)--not perfect, just trying hard to be better each and every day.

   Each person has a name given to them by their enemies and given to them by their love.
Let's focus on love. Each one of us here has been loved by someone special.  That's why we gather to recite Yizkor and Kaddish and honor their memories.  They touched us by their love and we would not be who we are without it.  This is a two-fold blessing:  we ourselves are more able to give love to others because we have grown and flourished in the love that was given to us, and, of course, we can still feel their love if we but open our hearts "for love is stronger than death" and even the grave cannot sever the bond that love has created. (Song of Songs)

Each person has a name given to them by their holidays and given to them by their work.
Obviously we miss our loved ones most at holidays.  How long has it been since we sat at the seder table with them?  How much would we love to share each holy day and celebration?  
As far as the name given to us by our work, it is clear that not only what we do but how we do it has a tremendous impact on that name. Its hard not to sermonize here, but I would be "preaching to the choir."  I'll simply  point out that those who have followed the tradition of not going to work, but rather joining a congregation in prayer to memorialize their loved ones, are the ones who not only honor them and their faith, but hopefully gain the blessing of feeling reconnected to them and to the Holy One, Blessed Be.

Each person has a name given to them by the seasons of the year and given to them by their blindness.  
Seasons come and seasons go, but were were blessed by their love, and now their memories, winter, spring, summer, and fall.  And was it their blindness to our faults and weakness that enabled them to love us unconditionally? Or our own blindness to the reality of human frailty, that sometimes stands in our way of experiencing true love and acceptance?

          Each person has a name given to them by the sea and given to them by their death.
I find my self wondering if the Sea that Zelda is referring to, is the Sea of Reeds; the birth canal, if you will, from our slavery to our freedom.  
          Each person has a name given to them by the sea and given to them by their death.
As we pause now to consider these images, I encourage everyone to contemplate not only the name that death has given to your loved ones, but the name that death will one day give to you...
How do we live up to the best that our parents, grandparents, siblings, spouce, child... saw within us?  How do we best honor their precious memory?  By remembering that "each of us has a name", many names, and that there is no greater glory than "the imperishable crown of a good name."


We pause now for Yizkor, our private memorial prayers.
Where is the Ram?
Rabbi Gaylia R. Rooks        Rosh HaShannah 5769

So, a Rabbi, a Priest, and a Minister are discussing their different beliefs regarding the eternal question:  When does life begin?  The Priest explains that Catholicism teaches life begins at the very moment of conception.  The Minister says that in his Church they are taught that life begins as soon as there is a heartbeat.  The Rabbi, shrugs and answers that among the Jews the belief is widely held that life begins when the dog dies and the kids go off to college !  

Last Thanksgiving, our 17 year old puppy, Lailah, died, and just last month,  our "baby", Lev, who is 6 feet tall, dark and handsome,  entered the class of 2012 at Centre College.  That's right, Rabbi Rapport and I have just entered (kicking and screaming, I might add!) the ranks of the "empty nesters."  We are undeniably caught up in the contemplation of parenting and the delicate balance of relationships between family generations.  

I wanted to let you all know about Lev's success  because I remember so clearly the outpouring of love and support we received after we gave our joint Yom Kippur sermon sharing our struggles since he had been diagnosed with Autism.

At the Weiskopf Child Evaluation Center they refer to our son as "the miracle child" and of course, we agree!  After all these years of speech therapy, occupational therapy, and intensive effort on all our parts, Lev is a remarkable young man who is sweet, kind, bright, very verbal, and becoming more social as each year passes.  Will he need some accommodations at college?  Yes.  Did they ever imagine he would leave home and go off to college?  No!  And so we celebrate this remarkable accomplishment, even as we suffer with the adjustment to "letting our baby go."  

Did you ever notice how much our  personal lives relate to Biblical characters and how our own individual struggles are so clearly connected to historical Jewish and spiritual issues?  Our recent "transition" reminded me so vividly of  the Torah portion "Lech Lecha"-- when God tells Abraham and Sarah to leave their home, the place of their birth, their family , and go off on a journey that would mark the beginnings of all three of the world's major religions.  As we prepared to send Lev off to Centre College, that was the Biblical story that spoke to me.

But now that he has left, and now that the High Holy Days are here, it occurs to me that while Lech Lecha may perhaps be Lev's portion for this passage in our lives, the portion for my journey is the one  that Jews all across the world will be reading tomorrow for Rosh HaShanah, the Binding of Isaac, the Akeidah.  A powerful story that for generations has left  children terrified,  parents appalled, and  rabbis struggling to find hidden meanings that lie deep beneath the surface of the tale.

 Allow me to summarize and refresh your memories.   All their lives, Abraham and Sarah wanted only one thing...a son, an heir, a successor, the assurance of their continuity, their immortality. But that was the one thing denied to them. God promises to make their descendants as numerous as the sands on the shore and the stars in the sky...but all Sarah and  Abraham want is a child. God will change their names from Sarai to Sarah and Avram to Avraham -- the father of many nations...but all they want is a son. And with each passing year, the desire and expectation only intensifies.

Finally, Isaac is born -- the miracle son of Abraham's beloved 90-year-old Sarah. Isaac -- the child of laughter.  And then one day, Abraham hears God call to him to sacrifice his son, his only son, the one he loves, his Isaac.  Abraham saddles his donkey early in the morning and takes the boy and the knife and the wood, along with two servants, and heads off toward the wilderness.  The traditional midrash has many legends about what happened during their  travels, but most agree that Abraham must have been plagued by doubt.  Would God really ask him to offer up the child of his old age?    The Biblical account simply says that he continued on his journey for three days.  In my own midrash, I can't help but wonder if he spent much of the time (for Isaac was an extraordinary child) reflecting on  how much he had learned from his son:  to see the world through different eyes and count blessings in unexpected ways.  I believe that the only things that sustained him were his love for his son, his faith in the Eternal One and the promise God had made that his descendants, through Isaac, would be a large and blessed nation.  

The terse telling in the Torah continues:  As father and son begin to climb Mt. Moriah, Isaac looks at the wood for the altar, sees the knife for the sacrifice, and asks his father, "Where is the ram for the offering?"  And Abraham, the man of God, responds gently, "God will see to the ram, my son."  When they reach the top he binds the boy, and sets the wood, and raises the knife. And at that crucial moment when both the Holy One and Abraham our father know for certain that he actually has perfect faith, and believes that God will somehow guide them safely home, an angel calls out to stop him saying: "Lay not your hand upon the boy!"

And then the text says:  "Abraham lifted up his eyes and saw, and behold, there in the thicket was a ram with its horns caught in the branches."  Amazing!  Where did this ram come from?  How did it happen to be caught just in the right way, in the necessary place, at just this momentous time?

Pirkei Avot, the Sayings of our Ancestors, contains a fascinating list of special, miraculous things that were formed on the last day of Creation just moments before the beginning of Shabbat. They are unique creations  that can't be explained in any rational or scientific way but that God knew would one day be needed in the world (Pirkei Avot, 5:8). On this list of miraculous things we find, for example, Miriam's Well that followed us on our journey through the wilderness to provide us with sustenance along our way. Forty years we wandered in the desert, always worried about food and drink, and yet God had prepared for this since the beginning of time.  Miriam's Well offered more than just lifesaving drink, the sweet water was a living symbol of God's Presence among the people; a continual reassurance that we could trust Adonai, our Creator to protect  us and provide for us always.

What else can be found on this list of incredible items created just before dusk on the last day of Creation?  Lev's favorite is "the first pair of tongs."   He studies blacksmithing with our member, Craig Kaviar, and, true son of two rabbis, contemplates possibilities of how the very first pair of tongs could be created without a pair of tongs to help make them!   By the way, it wasn't until after we named Lev that we found out he would be carrying the same name as his great-great-grandfather, Leib de Shmidt, Lev the Blacksmith....

But the answer to our question about the "Binding of Isaac" may also be found on that list in Pirkei Avot, because one incredible item of the fourteen miracle creations is "The ram for Abraham our father."  And therein may lie the lesson.  Each year on Rosh HaShannah we read the awe-filled story of Abraham preparing to follow God's command and sacrifice his beloved son.   Each year rabbis struggle with the age old challenge to find deeper meaning   in the Akeidah, the Binding of Isaac. There have been volumes of midrash explaining and re-explaining this story that our tradition has intentionally assigned to be read on the holy day of the New Year.

Was it really a test of Abraham's faith?  Doesn't God know everything and already realize what the outcome would be?  And if it is meant as a test to prove to Abraham himself just how much he trusts in God, isn't that rather suspect since God had already promised him that Isaac would carry on the line and spread out like the sands of the sea & the stars of the  sky?

But perhaps our story is not really about Abraham.  Perhaps in reality, it is meant for us.  We who may not have the perfect faith of Abraham our father.  Let's return to the text.  Just at the moment when Abraham raises the knife, the voice of an angel calls out to stop him.  The Torah tells us that ?Abraham lifted his eyes and saw a ram caught in the thicket and so sacrificed the ram in place of his son'.  We know that this is part of the origin of our tradition to sound the ram's horn to bring in the New Year.  And this ram had been there waiting for this very moment ever since the time of Creation.

But what if the miracle in this story is not in the ram itself?  What if the miracle is not that the ram was where it was exactly when it needed to be there.  What if the  real miracle in our story was actually in Abraham? Our verse says Abraham "lifted up his eyes," and saw something that he hadn't noticed before- a ram caught in the briars, in the thickets. Perhaps before that moment he was so focused on his dreadful  task that he couldn't see the opportunity that was there, right nearby, in plain sight, before his very eyes.  Abraham had to redirect not only his hand- away from his son- but also his perception- away from the idea that God really demanded such an awful sacrifice. With this understanding of our verse and the midrash on it, the miracle of the  great Rosh HaShannah story is that Abraham is able to undergo a change of spiritual understanding just in time, and see alternatives just at the moment he is most "caught by the horns" in a horrible situation.

What a powerful lesson into our own potential to grow in understanding and insight, finding miracles to be grateful for even under the most dire of circumstances. While the list of mysterious creations includes this very ram caught by its horns, it does not mean to suggest only that the ram was always there. The thought is completed by the part of the verse that says, "Abraham lifted up his eyes."  The miracle is not that the ram was always there, so God never intended for Abraham to really kill Isaac, the miracle was in the ability to see  the ram, to perceive the better choice.  And these kinds of miracles can be understood as the deeper and yet more ordinary kind of miracles, if we would only "lift up our eyes" and really see.

But lifting our eyes takes a conscious effort and a desire to change, to be aware, to learn new ways of seeing.  Why is it that we don't see the ram in the first place  if it really is right before our eyes?  We walk the same narrow path year after year.  We see our world through the same pair of jaded eyes focused on the mundane.  In reality, we are not truly looking for the opportunities and grandeur God has indeed placed just within our field of vision.

My favorite rabbi, Lawrence Kushner, wrote that the miracle of the Burning Bush is not that it burned and was not consumed.  The real miracle is that Moses noticed  it at all.  Just how long would you need to look at a bush burning in the desert in order to notice that it wasn't actually burning up?  That, Rabbi Kushner teaches, is the real miracle in the story.  That Moses paid attention enough to even notice.  And we, in our overprogrammed, instant-messaging, micro-wave world, are so busy multi-tasking we are even less likely than before to notice the miracles that daily surround us. 

What a powerful  message for us all  that we reinforce each year when we come to Temple for Rosh HaShannah.  There are miracles all around us, if we would but "lift up our eyes" and notice them. Another one of my favorite rabbis, Chester B. Diamond, always says that his most beloved reading in the old, blue "Gates of Prayer" is the one that says:  "Days pass and the years vanish, and we walk sightless among miracles.  Lord, fill our eyes with seeing and our minds with knowing...Help us to see, wherever we gaze, that the bush burns unconsumed."   (GOP p. 373)

The miracle of change can happen in an instant.  The ram is always there, if we will but lift up our eyes.  And that is the most important lesson for us to learn as we enter this New Year because that is how we might truly change our lives.  That is the process of forgiveness, healing and transformation.  We always discover miracles when we  lift up our eyes and really see. And this is true in each and every life.  For in the end, the opportunity for change is always there, just like the ram.

What is asked of me, of you, of us, on Rosh Hashanah before Yom Kippur?  To recognize the blessings of the Holy One and our ability to make a difference not only in our own lives but in the lives of those around us: our families, our congregation, our community, our world.  Seize the sanctity of this moment. Break the impasse. Break down anger. Break through stubbornness. Open your heart, open your mouth. Offer the first call to an estranged friend or relative. Initiate the first piercing of the wall of silence. Reconcile--with yourself and others.  That may be a better term than forgiveness.  Seek to reconcile. Bend.

Bend!  Dare  to bend. The curvature of the Shofar is kafuf, it is bent, to teach us to bend our stubbornness and our pride. The sound of the Shofar includes shevarim, the sobbing staccato of broken notes to remind us that tshuvah, repentance, the road to reconciliation, is a process, a series of steps. The sound of the Shofar is broken for in God's eye nothing is more whole than a broken heart.  

It is Rosh HaShannah, the New Year.  Ten Days before the Day of Days, the Day of Awe.  What is asked of us during these ten days of tshuvah, of repentance and return?  Only to lift up our eyes to the possibility of change. To take ourselves seriously. To realize that the power of reconciliation is in our hands, in our heart, and in our mouth to do it.  This is our sacred task that we might enter the Day of Atonement really ready to be  forgiven because we have already learned forgiveness.  Just as the twisted shofar has the most beautiful tone, when we turn on our path from the straight road that was leading us away from a life of holiness, we become like the ram's horn.  And the breath of life, the Spirit of Adonai, blows through us and calls us and others around us, to a new and better future.

 Recently while meditating after my son left for college, the text that came to me was from the Book of Psalms (118), "Zeh hayom asah Adonai.  This is the day Adonai has made."  My mantra to everyone who asks about Lev has been, "This is what we've been working for and praying for all these years. 

"Zeh hayom asah Adonai, This is the day Adonai has made, let us rejoice and be glad."  And yes, of course, we are glad.  We are thrilled.  "This is the day Adonai has made,"  and today is That Day  for all of us.  "This  is "The Day" Adonai has made.   Rosh HaShannah, the beginning of a New Year.    Let us take hold of it.  Let us realize that the ram and other miraculous creations are right here within our field of vision if we would only see.  God is eternally Present for us. Healing comes with forgiveness.  New possibilities and life-giving alternatives await us every where we look.  

On this New Year of 5769,  may we truly lift up our eyes and see the possibilities for renewal and reconciliation.  Let us seize the day; make it count.   May the New Year be filled with love, hope and new vision, reconciliation and forgiveness, joy and peace.   Amen.
     
     
         

    The Temple | 5101 US HWY 42 | Louisville , KY 40241 | PH: 502-423-1818 /admin@templeaibs.org