Being a Real Hero


In a few days we will begin the celebration of Hanukah. I know it is hard to believe- seems like it was just Rosh HaShannah! But this is a very unusual year of the Jewish calendar playing “catch up” with the solar calendar so here we are- Hanukkah and Thanksgiving falling together so close. Maybe that is a good thing- we can concentrate on Hanukkah without all the distractions of Christmas (although we will have to compete with Black Friday!)
Although Hanukkah is a minor festival we have made it into a major event. I only hope that we make the lessons of Hanukah just as major in our lives. Hanukkah is uniquely a Jewish celebration but one that contains lessons that all people can understand. The “underdog” who has no chance of victory emerges from a long struggle to defeat a powerful enemy: the oppressed minority that struggles for its identity and its very existence, and the unimaginable bravery of a few individuals who stood up to the voice of tyranny. I think that just as the story of the Exodus has inspired people of all faiths through the ages, the story of Hanukah can also inspire people- all we have to do is share the story.
Luckily we do not have to physically struggle to insure our existence as Jews. Thank God we live in a time in which we are free to celebrate our heritage. There is another struggle, however, that we do need to engage in- the struggle to be proud of who we are. We live in a time in which it is not always popular or “politically correct” to celebrate who you are or what your heritage is. We hear voices that call for unity and uniformity. To me that means that if our society becomes a meaningless pot of homogeneity our social, economic, and political problems will somehow disappear. Sometimes I think such “appreciation” of diversity is a ploy- it tends to equate every tradition with every other. We lose any reason to preserve our identities- one group is the same as another so why be proud of your unique tradition.
I want to be a part of a group that is identifiably different- I want to be a part of a people that has stood the test of time. I want to be Jewish. I know full well that we, as a people, have incorporated the best of every culture in which we have participated. I also know that such “gifts” that have come to us in our travels through history have never come at the price of abandoning our own identity.
In the ancient world the Jews knew they were different than the Romans or the Greeks. Like today, our ancestors were but a small minority in a vast cultural expanse but they also took pride in being who they were. Today we are a small minority in a world that, at times, says “don’t be different.” Looking at history we should be sure that it is only our difference, our uniqueness, and our sense of peoplehood that allowed us to become the “eternal people.”
Being a hero at Hanukah does not call for armed battle as it did in the days of the Maccabees. Being a hero today can be a small thing- something that may not even show on the outside. Being a Jewish hero today may be as easy as being proud to be a Jew, being proud of the amazing history of our people, and proud that we can be part of a much bigger world without surrendering our identity.
This Hanukah I hope you find some small steps to become a hero- share the Hanukah story with non-Jewish friends. Maybe you can explain why Jews don’t celebrate Christmas but we do celebrate Thanksgiving. Maybe you can just look in the mirror and be proud to be a part of the great miracle of Jewish Existence.

Each in His Own Way
This week we observe Yom Kippur- a day of fasting and prayer, a day of fresh beginnings. I share with you a story that gives an insight into the potential that each of us harbors. On Yom Kippur we can harness that potential or ignore it for another year.
The rabbi noticed a man in the back of the synagogue who was crying. While the rest of the congregation stood dutifully intoning the holiday prayers, this man stood silent except for the faint sound of his weeping. Hoping to console him the rabbi made his way back to him to inquire why he wept. The man told his story: “Everyone else has come to pray to the Almighty. They recite the holy words of our ancestors and God hears their prayer. I cry because I am a simple farmer. I never learned to read. All I know is to recite the Aleph-Bet. Surely God will not answer my prayer.”The rabbi responded: “Your sincere tears are prayer enough for God to hear. You may worship God by reciting the Aleph-Bet. That is your special way to petition your Creator.”
This is an important lesson to learn for Yom Kippur. We can fall into the trap of thinking that everything we do has to be judged in comparison to others. We may be a part of a congregation reciting communal prayers but only we know what is in our hearts. The man in the story mistakenly thought that only formal prayer was worthy of God’s attention. His simple recitation was as precious as the prayer of the most gifted Cantor. God allows each of us to be a unique individual. Doesn’t make sense that each of us might have a special, individual way to worship Him? No matter how you are able to address God the simple fact of wanting to address Him is the essence.
Although Yom Kippur is a “community” holiday, it is perhaps the most personal and intimate of the holidays. We all ask for forgiveness but only you know why you are asking. We all ask for long life but only I know what I hope to do with the years I am given. We all say we will do better but that phrase means something different to each of us.
In Hebrew we call worship “avodah,” a word that means service or, in modern Hebrew, work. If we truly want to worship God we do so through service. Very often we best serve God by serving our fellow human beings. Like all aspects of worship, that service may be something different for each of us. In the year ahead you may be presented with many opportunities to live up to the words you recite on Yom Kippur. Whether you are fluent in Hebrew or can only recite the Aleph-Bet God hears and heeds the petitions you place before Him. What he asks in return is that you find your unique way to serve Him in return. That is the real potential for the year ahead- to find that unique talent or gift that God has given each of us and put it to use in creating a world that is a little bit more like Yom Kippur- all of us working toward the same goal.

Celebrating a Labor-less Day

This year everyone will be saying that Rosh HaShanna “came early.” Of course if you look at the Jewish calendar you will see that Rosh HaShannah came just when it should. The idea of “early and late” comes from our reference to the civil calendar that we use every day. This year our sense of “early” is also due to the fact that Rosh HaShannah comes right after Labor Day. (Oy, so early!) Let’s take a look at what Labor Day can teach us about celebrating Rosh HaShannah.
Labor Day is a day to honor those who work hard- we do so by giving them (and ourselves) a day off from working! Well, how would we honor labor, by making everyone work harder? Jewish holidays are like Labor Day- we mark the cycle of work and accomplishment by a day of rest. It is a good reminder that the best part of the ride is taking the time to get off the rollercoaster and watch it go by. Just as Labor Day comes once a year so does Rosh HaShannah- it is an annual event that gives us the chance to “hop off the train” and catch our breath. It is both the anniversary of the creation of the world and the creation of humanity. Rosh HaShannah marks the creation of the raw materials and the creation of man who, through creativity and labor, was given the task of bringing all the raw material to its full potential.
I have always wished that I had more creative ability- I am always amazed by artists who can paint a beautiful picture guided only by the vision they see in their mind. I have always wondered how an artist knows that a painting is “done.” How do you know when the last brush stroke has been made? When to stop mixing colors in search of just the right shade? When is that “ah-ha” moment when the picture is done and the artist can stand back and appreciate his own work?
Those questions are the ones that confront us on Labor Day and Rosh HaShannah. When do we know that our efforts are complete? When can we stand back and say that we have attended to every detail? For some projects it’s an easy question- if you are painting a house it is pretty easy to know when every wall has been painted. It’s a much harder question to know when the task of turning a house into a “home” is completed.
In each of our lives we are called upon to perform many tasks- some of which, we can, on those “labor-less” days, stand back and say “job well done.” There are other tasks (usually the more important ones) that have no end. On “labor-less” days we can only stand back and look at the progress that we have made.
Rosh HaShannah is such a day- we celebrate creation- an on- going process- we pause from our labor to see how we are doing as God’s partners. Rosh HaShannah is also a day on which we pause to look at the efforts we have made in the tasks that will never be completed- self-betterment and the painting of our personal masterpiece.

Our Torah, Our Purpose




Next week on the 15th and 16th we celebrate Shavuot, the holiday the rabbis called Zeman Matan Toratanu. Shavuot celebrates the giving of the Torah at Mt. Sinai but the rabbinic phrase actually means “the time of the giving of our Torah. There is much to learn in this little phrase, after all wasn’t it God’s Torah that he gave to Israel. Why should the sages go out of their way to emphasis that it is our Torah?

Today one of the buzz words we often hear is about giving someone a reason to “own” an idea or a cause. It means giving someone a reason to commit fully- to give them “ownership.” While this may make a lot of sense in the corporate world, it also reveals what Judaism is all about. When we, as a people, accepted the Torah at Mt. Sinai it did becomes ours. The Torah is a code of holiness, a code of conduct, and a code to “unlock” the secrets of human life. The Torah is also a blueprint for creating a better world. If Israel was not ready to turn abstract ideas into the daily workings of human society then the Torah was really God’s book not Israel’s Book.

In the Torah the loftiest spiritual messages sit side by side with some of the seemingly most mundane details of human life. This often confuses people. What would God care about the way in which people harvest their crops or make their clothes or anything else that is so pitifully human. God does care about these “little details” because they reflect much larger ideas. You live what you believe. If you perceive the world as a sacred place you will treat it as such. If you treat it as something that rests beyond God’s concern then it is beyond your concern also.

Shavuot celebrates the giving of our Torah because it is we who bring Torah into the world of everyday life. Consider the recent factory tragedy in India. An eight story factory was constructed without permits or supervision of any kind. The building was used as a clothing factory to turn out clothes that would be sold in America. This labor force worked for ten cents a day to create the clothes that we wear. When the building literally fell in on itself hundreds of people died. They are still searching for bodies. Is it any wonder that the Torah includes laws on how to treat workers?

That is but one example. If you search the pages of the Torah you will see why our “ownership” is critical. Only by each of us making the effort to address the world as it is, and longing to make it what it could be , does God’s Torah become ours. There is an old saying that “the devil is in the details.” In reality it is God who is in the details.

Shavuot is something to celebrate- no people has ever had the opportunity to share in re-creating the world in the way we have. The only question is if we will make the Torah ours or, through our inaction, let God keep it to Himself.

This article appeared in the South Florida Jewish Journal.

Life after the Seders

As we prepared to celebrate this week of Passover most of us focused on the Seders. There is good reason to- the Seder tells the story of Passover, it is the Mitzvah of retelling the Exodus story, and it is that special evening that we get to sit around the Seder table enjoying family and friends. Even in homes in which very few of the holidays are observed, most families get together for this great evening of Jewish storytelling. While not everyone may hold both Seders, Passover is a special time to embrace the lessons of hope and freedom that emerge from 4000 years of Jewish history. I remind you, however, that Passover does not end with the Seder; in fact it is only the beginning.

The fact is that there is life after the Seder! It is in fact the quintessential essence of Jewish life- taking in the spirit of the Jewish past to animate the Jewish present. A Jew without history is an orphan. Like a child without parents, we would have no idea of where we came from, how we got here, or, most importantly, why we are here. While the Haggadah does much to help us understand our pedigree, it is the rest of Passover that ties up our “loose ends.” For an entire week we taste the bread of affliction, we eat the bread of slaves, and we celebrate the birth of our nation.  Then at the end of Passover we get one final chance to see the panorama of our people unfold both in terms of our life as a people and our lives as individuals.

Today tracing the history of one’s family has become the new kind of “scrap- booking.” People spend hours on ancestry websites trying to discover small pieces of unknown family history. The reasons for this “craze” may be many but I believe one is more important than the others- we long to know who we are- the only way we can truly understand that is by knowing from where and from whom we have come. Passover is our ancestry website. We log on using the Haggadah, we share what we have learned during the Seder, and, at last, we personalize the lesson on the eighth day of Passover by observing Yizkor. Yizkor then serves as our own personal ancestry lesson. We remember who made us who we are. We reconnect with where we came from. We realize we share a history and fate with all those who join in the recitation of Yizkor.

The Purim Paradox

Next week we will celebrate Purim on Saturday night and Sunday. We set the stage for Purim in the time that has passed since the coming of the new month of Adar. Our tradition tells us that when the month of Adar arrives we are to increase the joy that we feel. This is an anticipatory kind of happiness- looking forward to celebrating should put us in a good mood, make our hearts more receptive to feeling joy, and inspire us to embrace the holiday. All this talk of joy makes me wonder what our sages had in mind- can we really be joyous just because a holiday comes? Can we choose to be “happy” with just the turn of the calendar?

I think most of us feel that happiness is not something that we can just turn on or off at will. There are times that we feel so sad that we can’t imagine ever smiling again. There are also times that we feel so happy that we forget that we ever felt sad! Most of our lives are spent somewhere in between those two extremes, living a mixture of happy and sad. The kind of good news/bad news the average day brings! So what did our Sages have in mind? Did they really think we could be “happy” at the drop of a hat? For some of us it might seem a paradox that we are being command to be happy. Both joy and sadness are feelings that creep into our hearts unexpectedly- we hardly ever think of them as the result of a conscience decision. I think all of us would choose to be happy if only it were that simple!

So what is all this talk of well-intentioned happiness over the month of Adar and the anticipation of Purim? Perhaps it’s the Jewish take on the old “is the glass half empty or half full” thing. When you really think about Purim seriously could become sad and, in fact, discouraged. Purim was the first act in a play that has run the entirety of Jewish existence. Purim: Haman hated us because we were different. He called us “outsiders.” He said we should not be included in society because of our beliefs. His words were repeated over and over by generations of those who hated us for no other reason than our very existence. For that we have suffered over and over. Good reason to be sad. Good reason to be saddened by a pain that has plagued our people in every time and place.

But to that temptation our Sages said “No!” It is not sadness that we feel but joy! The glass is “half full.” Every would-be Haman has failed. We are here to tell the story and mock (and erase) his memory. We choose to celebrate the continuity of Jewish life and to make light of every threat that we have faced. God said this to Abraham: Those who bless you shall be blessed, those who curse you shall be cursed.” Our Sages “command” us to find the joy in Purim because it is a day to celebrate rather than mourn.

Some of us choose to find the joys of being Jewish but some of us act like it is a curse. Purim is a good time to choose the joy of being Jewish. Despite all that we have faced we are the ones who are still around- telling and retelling the story each year and being happy just to be able to do it.

 

Why Do You Go To Synagogue?

 Last week I asked you to consider the abiding message and meaning of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur: to remember that many aspects of our lives change from year to year but our values and beliefs abide as the cornerstones of our Jewish identity. This week I ask you to consider something else, something much more personal, something only you can answer: why do you go to the synagogue? You may think I am kidding but I mean it- why do you attend services on Rosh Hashanah and/or Yom Kippur? For those who attend shul regularly it might not be so important but if you are one of those “three-day-a-year Jews” I ask you to think about that question very seriously.

Don’t make excuses- don’t say someone makes you go; don’t say you will feel guilty if you don’t. Oh, and don’t say it’s the perfect way to spend a day away from work. Joking aside, admit that there is something in your heart and soul that makes you feel that you should be there. Don’t fight that feeling- be proud of it! That feeling is your Jewish “instinct” telling you that it is time to re-connect to Judaism. It is your “inner-Jew” telling you that no matter how crazy the world may be there is a way to put it all in focus. That “magic connection” is the connection that you make sitting in synagogue, the connection you make when you pause to realize that the concept of “modernity” is an ever changing one- what is new today will be old tomorrow. In the face of a world that changes more quickly than we can even notice we need to re-connect with those things that are eternal.

I know many Jews feel uncomfortable in synagogue. The service is too long. They can’t read Hebrew. They feel like hypocrites because they don’t keep all the laws. Yes, there are many excuses to explain why shul can be a real “pain”- not to mention all that sitting in one place. Try this for a change- make up some excuses about why it is so great to be in the synagogue of your choice! Think of the possibilities! Have you ever noticed how easy it is to make excuses about doing something you want to do anyway? Maybe this year you can say (even if it is only to yourself): “I want to go to shul, I am not exactly sure why, but I want to be there.” For many of us that would be a strange confession, but consider it. Go to services this year with an open mind. Yes, there is some reason you want to be there. Yes, there is something that makes it a special day and a special place. Yes, you did go there looking for something.

I wish all of my readers the very best for the new year and hope that this Rosh Hashanah we all discover the reasons that bring us together in prayer and discovery of those things that have made us an eternal people.

Things That Will Never Disappear

A friend of mine recently sent me an e-mail like many of us get every day. It is meant to be funny and entertaining yet it reports real facts and gives us a good reason to think about the future. This e-mail was titled “Nine things that will disappear in our lifetime.” It was entertaining and, at the same time, really made me think about how life has changed in the last couple of generations. So what are the things that will disappear according to this message? The Post Office, using checks to pay bills, newspapers, books, and landline telephones are among the casualties of technology’s never-ending advance. What really struck me was how these things are very important parts of our lives and yet, as reported, they are disappearing. We all know the serious financial trouble the Post Office is having- too many e-mails and electronic billing are making “snail-mail” a thing of the past. Banks complain that processing paper checks costs too much money- soon our whole lives (bills and all) will be controlled by little pieces of plastic. Newspapers are struggling- young people who have grown up with the internet expect their news to be instant. Who wants to wait until tomorrow morning to read a story? I love books. I love to hold them and look at them- there is something you can put your trust in if it’s in a book. But, yes, I admit it- they are big and heavy and, yes, they do start to smell a little strange after a number of years! In the new world electronic devices of all sizes and shapes will hold your “books.” You can carry a whole library under your arm and not even feel a strain! Now that nearly everyone carries a cell phone more and more people find that they really don’t need a “house phone.” Now, instead of arguing over who gets the phone next, today’s teenagers just disappear into their rooms and talk and text all night. So here we are- on the brink of a new world in which many of the things that we thought were “essentials” will soon be a part of the past. It should give us reason to pause and reflect. Many of the “things” in our lives that we thought were “essentials” will soon be replaced. The latest technology, the latest fashion or fad, or the “newest” product will cause us to discard things that once seemed precious. As we approach the High Holiday season I urge you to take a little time to think about the things that will never go out of style or become obsolete. Rosh HaShannah celebrates the new year, a new start, a new time filled with possibilities. But all these new opportunities only matter because of the things that we bring from years past. The love that we have for those around us, the time to pray, reflect, and share common hopes with family and friends, and a few quiet moments to reconnect with our tradition, these are the things that do not change or go out of style. Some things come and go but some things are eternal. Those are the things that join us to each other during the High Holidays.

Why Is History Such A Hard Subject?

This Saturday night and Sunday we will observe Tisha B’Av. In last week’s column I gave you some of the background for this day. Tisha B’Av is a fast day recalling, among other events, the destruction of the First Temple in 586BCE and the Second Temple in 70CE. As I explained last week, these were national catastrophes that changed the course of Jewish history and theology in many ways. As we prepare for this day I reflect on a larger question: why do we have such a hard time remembering and understanding history? I take my cues from reports I have heard on the grasp that our young people have on history. Many American children fail questions about American history. Knowledge of such important events like the American Revolution or the Civil War has become too esoteric for many students (and teachers) to worry about. I wonder if other countries have the same problem when it comes to their citizens grasping the history of their own country. It also makes me ask why. Perhaps part of the problem lies in our attitude about the past. That attitude seems to be that only the present matters. “The past” is like a ball of yarn- it is all rolled together and hard to perceive the different lines that wind around each other. I think it is also a part of our modern “vanity.” We think that we are so advanced, so far removed from the mistakes and failures of the past that remembering history is not necessary. The only thing that matters is what we do today. Such an attitude reflects such a superficial understanding of humanity that it betrays the naiveté of its proponents. It is true that we are more technically advanced than our ancestors- even our grandparents for that matter. It is true that science has reshaped the way we live but it has not reshaped the human heart. As a student of history I try to never lose sight of the fact that human beings have not changed- our tools and our toys have changed but the essence of what it means to be human remains constant. Regardless of our new found technology, we still long to connect to each other and to that which is greater than all of us. Sometimes I think if we could remember how much we have in common with our ancestors we would understand ourselves much better. Tisha B’Av is not just about the Temples. It is not just an ancient part of our history. It is about the way our people reacted to and overcame times of crisis and spiritual confusion. These are lessons that would serve us well right now. Our civilization, both religious and secular, face great challenges. Some think the challenge might be too great, that we have arrived at “the point of no return.” The study of history, especially Jewish history, can teach us much. The human spirit is what created triumph and continuity in the face of catastrophe. That’s why it is essential that Jews understand the Jewish past. It is also something needed by all of our neighbors- it is not technology that overcomes crisis. All of the problems that may face us today have been experienced before, what remains to be seen is if we can have the faith, courage, and will that our ancestors had.

Passover and Israel's Security

A Roman official named Marcus Ambivius was prefect of Judea (what the Romans called Israel) from 9- 12 CE. As the resident ruler representing the Roman Emperor, Ambivius kept a record of what he saw the Jews of Jerusalem doing. His words concerning Passover are very telling. After reporting on what happened in the Temple for the holiday, the way in which the sacrifices were brought, and the various activities of the Priests, Ambivius comments on an unusual custom in Jerusalem. He reports that during Passover no one in Jerusalem closed or locked their doors at night. He explains that the Jews had this custom “out of respect for the many strangers who had come to celebrate Pesach” and “as a sign that the Jews depended on Divine protection during this time.” This custom reflects the Biblical text that speaks of Passover as “leyal shmurim,” a night of Divine protection. The Torah records that as the Jews left Egypt they were so secure that not even a dog barked at them. The observations made by Ambivius make it clear that our ancestors felt secure and safe as the celebrated Passover- so much so that they had no need to attend to the normal safeguards. What a way to experience the Holiday of Freedom- to feel completely free and secure from all enemies and confident to welcome anyone through your open door. I bring this ancient Roman record of Jewish life to your attention to contrast it with today. Those who are celebrating Passover in Jerusalem at this very moment should feel just as safe as their ancestors did. All of us, however, know that this is not the case. Just a few short days ago the “Global March on Jerusalem” threatens to send thousands to protest the “Judaization” of Jerusalem. Luckily, that “March” proved to be nothing but the basis for it remains in the minds of many- that Israel has no right to make Jerusalem a “Jewish” city! How absurd! Jerusalem was King David’s royal city and has since then remained the capital of Israel. To deny that is to deny history. Such deniers only have in mind the destruction of Israel by denying any legitimate historical ties between the Jewish people and the land of Israel. It is no wonder that Jews can not celebrate Passover in Jerusalem with the same confidence as our ancestors. Israel is in the midst of a complete assault on her existence and can not find comfort in a “Leyal Shmurim.” There is, however, one small step that would help. This step has, so far, been denied. That step is for America to affirm that Jerusalem is the capital of Israel. Only a few days ago that question was posed to the administration and the response was that “recognizing Jerusalem would prejudice the outcome of current negotiations.” For those of you who don’t speak political double-talk that means that the administration will not affirm that Jerusalem is the capital of Israel. That is not acceptable to me. At this time of freedom I would ask you to invest five minutes in the future of Israel- call or write your elected officials and remind them that Jerusalem has always been the capital of Israel and will always remain so.

Enjoy our Passover episode!!

Eight Days of Decisions



We tend to think of Hanukah as a “fun little holiday” for children. Maybe that is a trap we fall into because we have allowed it to become so commercialized as “the Jewish Christmas.” Maybe it is because we have allowed Hanukah to become a bigger deal than it was ever meant to be. To me it is odd that a Jewish family would make a big deal out of Hanukah but do next to nothing to mark Rosh HaShanah or Pesach. I guess it is a matter of perspective and we have certainly, of late, lost all perspective on Hanukah! When we do focus on the message of the holiday we usually talk about the amazing military victory of the Maccabees, the miracle of the oil, or the lighting of the Hannukiyah.
This year I would ask you to consider Hanukah in one new way which, I believe, is very true to the spirit of the holiday. Hanukah does not mark the end of a struggle that was only political. It was a spiritual struggle. Antiochus called upon the Jews to make a decision- follow his religion or be punished, worship God or worship the personification of the empire. It seems many Jews were willing to compromise with this decree. There were those who were willing to embrace the Greek gods in order to make their lives easier. Had they prevailed Judaism would have been doomed and the Jews would have disappeared into the population of a vast empire.
There were, however, other voices. The Maccabees brought together those who refused to abandon their faith, their values, and their identity. I have no doubt that their decision was the hardest thing that they ever had to make. To oppose the emperor meant the risk of death. To fight him meant facing an enemy army of great superiority. Those who joined with the Maccabees did so at great risk and yet it was the only decision that they could make.
I believe this is the most inspiring aspect of Hanukah. We celebrate the bravery of a group of our ancestors who had to face a monumental decision: What does being Jewish mean to me? Is it only a label, one that can be discarded if need be? Is it something so deep that I refuse to live without it? Most of us are lucky enough not to have to face that question ourselves. What is incumbent upon us is to reflect on the courage of those who did face such a decision. When we celebrate Hanukah we celebrate the strength of their faith and the resolve of their decisions.
The world eats away at our souls in so many ways- it is hard to be a spiritual person when so much of our energy must be directed to our physical needs. It is hard to maintain the uniqueness of one’s Jewish identity when there is so much pressure to “be like everyone else.” Hanukah is the perfect time to think about the decisions you make to be Jewish. Trust me, you do have to decide, you have to make a conscious choice very often. Will you be a Maccabee or will you choose the easier path? Your life may not depend on the decision but your soul does.
If you want to give a loved one a great gift for Hanukah give them the gift of your decision- the miracle of Jewish life. We have to make decisions of all kinds every day. Make Hanukah eight days of making the right decisions.