Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Happy New Year 5773!!

Happy New Year to all!!  I'm hoping this year will bring sweetness, joy, and peace to us all.  In case you have not heard enough High Holy Day sermons yet, here's another to get you into the mode of these Days of Awe.

FOR WHOM THE SHOFAR TOLLS



No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thine own
Or of thine friend's were.
Each man's death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.[1]  

         As we gather together to celebrate the New Year and prepare ourselves for the awe-filled day of Yom Kippur, we reflect on our personal journeys for this past year.  We may not use a bell, but our shofar blast reminds us to use these next ten days to ask forgiveness from those we have wronged, to take stock of the ways we have missed the mark, and to plot a new path forward – we continue the important struggle to improve upon the vessel of humanity that we each one of us calls “me.”
However, leaving our reflection at this personal, individual level renders us incomplete for the year to come.  As John Donne’s 17th century poem reminds us, no person is an island, unless of course you’re Paul Simon.  And while the work on the self is very important, failing to simultaneously place ourselves in the greater context of our society can lead us to being just as impenetrable and obtuse as a rock. We are moved by our cultural milieu, the events and happenings of our world shape our lives and often demand a response from us. 
It is incredible how much has happened in our world since the last time we gathered together to celebrate a new year. So, I invite you to journey with me a bit – I’ve put together a quick scan of 5772 – on the local, national, and international levels to help us to link our personal reflections to our society, as a whole. 
        
Not long after our High Holy Days last year, in October, we learned of the improbable return of Gilad Shalit, Israeli hostage, to his parents after more than 5 years of uncertainty as to whether or not he was still alive.  The Israeli government released over 1,000 Palestinian prisoners who were captured for a wide range of offenses, including terrorist activity that killed Israeli citizens. Due to the perseverance of international advocacy, hope, and the Jewish value of pikuach nefesh, preserving life; conditions arose that allowed Mr. Shalit to come home be sent on a new assignment – one that brought him to Miami this past winter to observe and report on the NBA Finals for an Israeli newspaper. 

In November we witnessed the tragic crumbling of the legacy of Joe Paterno, now infamous former football coach of the Penn State Nittany Lions, whose loyalty to a football program prompted him and others in positions of power to stand idly by, enabling numerous youths to be victimized.  

Then came December.  After 8 ½ years, there was war no more in Iraq. 
Meanwhile, locally, the Town of Cary worked with members of the Jewish community – some of whom are here with us today – to host a community Chanukah festival.  The gathering of thousands gave each of us in attendance a renewed sense of acceptance here in our area and pride in our local Jewish community.

If we fast-forward to February, news broke of the row that was caused when the Susan G. Komen foundation for breast cancer research announced it would cut funds for the Planned Parenthood organization.  This news sparked such an outrage by many supporters of the philanthropy that the foundation reversed its course.

Also, we learned that members of the Mormon Church had posthumously baptized prominent Jewish figures, such as Anne Frank and Jewish journalist Daniel Pearl. The church responded to outrage with a declaration that it would eliminate “unauthorized” baptisms.

Then in March we heard of the tragic shooting at a Jewish school in Toulouse, France, which left four people dead, including the school’s rabbi and his two children.  This incident as well as a rash of shootings in Toulouse in the days prior all targeted minorities, occurring in the midst of a flare up of nationalistic political rhetoric in the midst of a campaign season in France. [2]  Unfortunately, later in the summer we saw a similar prejudicial shooting closer to home as a gunman opened fire in a Sikh Temple in Wisconsin.

Fortunately, April gave us another reason to join together and strengthen the bonds of our community in an incredible gala, celebrating 100 years of Temple Beth Or.  We honored our Jewish vaule of l’dor va-dor – from generation to generation.  What an uplifting evening!

May followed, bringing a key statewide election in which Amendment One was approved, narrowly defining marriage between one man and one woman as the only legal domestic union recognized by the state.  We’ll revisit this a little later.

Then, this past July, we could not help being lifted up by Jewish gymnast, Aly Rasiman, earning a gold medal for her gymnastics floor routine performed to the song, Hava Nagilah.  While Aly twirled with grace, we proudly witnessed international crowds raucously clapping to OUR melody, the one we embrace in most of our own cultural celebrations.  Her victorious display of pride in her heritage was rendered that much sweeter in the backdrop of the International Olympic Committee’s decision not to publicly honor the Israeli victims of a terrorist attack at the Olympics 40 years prior.

Overall, we know that our economy is not as strong as we’d like it to be and the political rhetoric a bit too strong.  We’ve seen an upswing in liberty across much of the Middle East, but it has come with a cost of violence.  Whether or not freedom truly will ring remains a chapter yet to be written.

I’m sure that I left out a few events here and there – I don’t want to keep us here until Yom Kippur.  But it has been quite a year.  We look at these stories – reasons to celebrate, juxtaposed with those events that have invoked moral outrage.  These are our stories – the legacy of the time in which we are living. 

         As we reflect on these stories, an interesting trend emerges.  In a number of these chronicled events, we have seen the impact of individuals coming together to take a stand.  Whether collective action took as long as the captivity of Gilad Shalit or the couple of days that it took for the Susan G. Komen Foundation to reassess their decisions, people all across our society, just like you and me, stood up for their values and shaped the threads of our societal stories. Rather than passively allowing the status quo to mold us into an acceptance of a new reality – one that in some cases may have run counter to our own values – some refused to malleably contort and instead pushed back, creating a new outcome. 
When we look at the ways that these events in our world have unfolded, we cannot help but see that we have a responsibility to our world. Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel taught that, we each have to make a decision: We cannot remain in a vacuum – unless we proactively shine the light of our values onto the world, it is invaded by darkness.  Our tradition constantly urges us to look after those who are most vulnerable in our society – the orphan, the widow, the poor.  Look around - there are too many who are vulnerable all around us – those whose ability to fully participate in our society are threatened, because of economics, because of sexual orientation, because of gender or race or religion. Though Rabbi Heschel was a leading figure in the ‘60s, during the civil rights movement in our country, make no mistake – the need to stand up for human rights is just as real today in order to protect the rights we have – the rights of women, the rights of the poor and disadvantaged, the rights of religious minorities everywhere including those of Jews.  Rabbi Heschel’s words still ring true for us today: “This is no time for neutrality. [As Jews, we] cannot remain aloof or indifferent.”[3]  We have to care.
We must become moved movers.  We must allow our visceral reactions to the opportunities and injustices we see around us to bubble inside and stir our kishkes, just as the prophet Jeremiah did.  Even when he tried not to share his prophetic words on how society should change, they burned like fire in his belly until he let them out for all to hear.  Of all times of the year, this is the time to let our passions ignite. Elie Wiesel has taught – “The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. The opposite of beauty is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference.[4] To create a society of beauty and love, we cannot throw our hands in the air in defeat at the paralyzingly large stories that come at us in the news every day.  We have a responsibility to care, to act.
Here at TBO, our social action committee is dedicated to continuing to shape the world around us in 5773.  Starting now, we can do our part to curb hunger around us, locally, by filling the bags at your seats with food and returning them by Yom Kippur.  During Sukkot (the first week of October), we will be working with the Raleigh Tribe to build a Sukkah at Moore Square.  We will even have a Jewish Fall Festival Shabbat service downtown in our Sukkah – October 5th.  And all that week, we need your help in going downtown to feed those in need, upholding the one of the ideals of the holiday – distributing our bounty to the hungry. 
At the end of October, we will be ramping up our annual Mitzvah Day with ways for folks of all ages to pray with our feet for the day, addressing some of the needs that surround us.  We hope that everyone in our congregation will come and help shape our local community.  By the end of the High Holy Days, a signup sheet with all the various projects will be available on the TBO website. Our hope is that these projects will just be the start of a year of shaping the world around us, as our social action committee is committed to responding from our Jewish values on other important social issues from human trafficking to immigration to healthy eating to a social action trip to Guatemala.

I know that yesterday, Rabbi Dinner spoke of the importance of Shabbat, of resting.  Now, here I am, saying, “Take action.”  It’s confusing.  But as Rabbi Dinner said last night in the name of Rabbi Heschel, Shabbat is not for the rest of the week, but rather the rest of the week is for Shabbat.  When Shabbat is merely a respite, a chance to escape the rigors of our world that we wish to not think about, Shabbat becomes a tool for the rest of the week.  The true restorative power of Shabbat rest does not come from a George Costanzan “SERENITY NOW!”   Instead, when we use our week to reach beyond ourselves, to impact our society and our community, then our week serves Shabbat.  The peace we earn is one of wholeness, pride in the participation of creation – this kind of rest is saturated with meaning and contentment, allowing us to more easily find that which is tov, which is good in our world, despite all its flaws.
It is important to keep in mind that not all of our efforts will fully shape the world as we hope it to be.  This past year, our community stepped forward to fight intolerance and injustice, as Temple Beth Or took a stand opposing the Amendment One that constitutionally limited the rights of a minority group based on the vote of a majority. Could we have done more?  Always.  Did we win the day?  Unfortunately, we did not.  But this is what it means to walk our values, or as Rabbi Heschel would say, to pray with our feet.  We lifted our prayers of caring for those who are vulnerable in our society, and put them into action.  At this time of reflection and renewal, we can look back not with regret, but rather with the peace that comes from knowing that we stood true to our Reform Jewish values.  We must balance our vigor to shape our world with the perspective and patience that Rabbi Tarfon teaches in the Talmud, Lo Alecha Hamlacha Ligmor - It is not our job to complete the task, nor is it our job to desist from it.[5]  Let us not get bogged down in the struggle and what was lost – rather, let us recapture the momentum of our passion from this past year and refocus it where we can continue to make a difference.
Therefore, let us use these High Holy Days to revisit the various events of this past year – to allow ourselves to be moved by what has happened around us.  Some moments may have been uplifting times of connection that brought us meaning, that we may wish to recapture in the year to come.  Others may have aroused in us a moral indignation that we cannot easily hold inside.  On Yom Kippur, we will stand side-by-side with our family and friends, our community, declaring – ASHAMNU, BAGADNU – WE have sinned, We have transgressed – not I, WE.  Our prayers demand that we tie our fate to one another and that we work to pull ourselves and one another out of the pitfalls of our year. 
As we strive to learn from the year that has passed and make this next year even better, may we each remember that the work we do on the self is only complete when it allows us to become shapers of our world.  By taking action in our world, we too are moved.  This cycle will allow us to create the space for rest, for Shabbat, and an appreciation for what will be tov within 5773.  Returning to my opening poem, with apologies to John Donne and any poetic structuralists who may be here today, a modified version might offer guidance in how to make 5773 a Shanah Tovah:
Remember – no person is an island,
Complete in oneself.
Each is a piece of our society,
A part of the main.
When one of us is swept under the sea of injustice,
We are all less.
Just as if an entire race or gender were dehumanized.
As well as if the house I own
Or that of my friend’s were lost to the perils of our economy.
Each person’s needless suffering diminishes me.
For I am involved in humankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the shofar calls.
It calls for thee.


Rosh Hashanah Sermon 5773 by Rabbi Ari Margolis, delivered at Temple Beth Or - please email rabbimargolis@gmail.com if you wish to cite material


[1] John Donne, 17th Century English Poet. “Meditation XVII,” from Devotions upon Emergent Occasions, 1623
[2] http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2012/mar/19/toulouse-shootings-race-religion-murder-france
[3] Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, “No Time for Neutrality” in Moral Grandeur and Spiritual Audacity: Essays. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1996. p. 75
[4] Interview with Elie Wiesel, published in US News & World Report (27 October 1986)
[5] Pirkei Avot 2:21


Friday, August 17, 2012

Creating the Jewels of Elul



As a world community, we just finished watching the Olympic Games.  (And I am so glad they have finished, because it means I no longer have to stay up late to watch the decathlon finals or amazing diving or gymnastic glory). In a flash of triumph – even those who just made it to the track or swimming pool – created a lifetime’s worth of memories that should make each athlete proud.  Not everyone can say he or she was an Olympic athlete.  Absent from these brief moments of splendor that we witnessed, however, were all the reps and training and practice and trials that each individual had to go through in order to make it to this highest stage of athletic competition.

            This weekend, we enter the month of Elul – the season that leads us to the High Holy Days.  It is traditionally the time in which we start preparing ourselves for the potential to be spiritually transformed during our time between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur – cleansed of the baggage of this past year and lightened as we take on the challenges and opportunities to face us in this next.  We strive to have our own moments of glory as we stand before God and, perhaps even more importantly, ourselves, and declare, “I have done all I can to put last year behind me, let me approach this year with a clean slate.” 
                       
Our scholars remind us that this is the time of year for us to do the hard work that allows us to have a meaningful High Holy Day experience.  Now is the time to reach out to those we love and ask forgiveness, to confront issues that are hanging over us and move beyond them.  Now is the time to notice the ways in which our world is unjust and how we as individuals are contributing to the problems that plague our communities, so we can begin to shift our patterns.  Now is the time to deeply ask ourselves if we are living up to our own expectations for who we want to be and start re-aligning our choices and commitments to bring us closer to our ideals. 

It amazes me how quickly summer can fly past us.  In a blink of an eye, at TBO, we have gone from the last day of religious school past the Olympic games and back into the very exciting time of getting ready to welcome back all our wonderful youth whom we’ve missed over these past few months.  Blink again, and Yom Kippur will be over. Let us not just fly through on autopilot, living out what life gives us instead of setting out each day with intention.  No athlete accidentally ended up on an Olympic team.  May we each put the time and efforts now to discover the Jewels of Elul,* being able to have our own moving ceremonies during this High Holy Day season – may they be holidays of gold for us all.


-          Rabbi Ari N. Margolis
Parashat R’eih

* To help us with our Elul efforts, click the link above to find daily inspirational thoughts or subscribe to daily emails that will help lead us into our High Holy Days.

Friday, August 3, 2012

The Olympic Spirit of Shema


SHEMA, Yisrael! Adonai, Eloheinu. Adonai Echad.
Hear/Listen, O Israel! Adonai is our God. Adonai is One.

            This week, our world’s attention has been drawn to a central focus– the Olympic games.  These celebrations of athleticism and sportsmanship (ideally) mark for us the coming together of people who ordinarily would have no opportunities or desires to stand side-by-side. American women shared a soccer field with the women from North Korea.  An Israeli swimmer shared a pool with a Palestinian swimmer.  Even LeBron James, Kobe Bryant, and Kevin Durant are sharing a basketball court in harmony, under the tutelage of local legend Mike Krzyzewski!
            It is most appropriate that our Torah portion this week brings forth our central blessing – the Shema.  With its theme of unity and interconnection, these words, like the Olympic games, remind us of how we are all bound together.  The wisdom and power of this blessing, however, come from the opening of our prayer – Shema – a word that many scholars have concluded means both “listen” and “hear” at the same time.  Only through enacting Shema, opening ourselves to hearing others nearby and honestly listening – openly, without agenda or ego, seeking to learn and not just to make our next point – do we find that place of connection to others through which we understand what it is to be a part of God’s One-ness, echad
            We are called upon to be witnesses through this blessing, and every Torah scroll and mezuzah in existence reminds us of this point as the final letters in the first and last words of the prayer are written much larger than the rest of the phrase, forming the Hebrew word, Eid, witness. 

In our world today, especially in our political discourse, there is not enough listening that happens.  All too often politicians, public figures, corporations, religious figureheads, and countless other leaders speak without ever truly listening to any opinion we do not wish to hear.  Without listening, nothing can penetrate the wisdom and conviction of the individual.  But such a state of existence is exactly opposite the oneness of God – it only escalates the oneness of isolation and individualism. 

           
      May we each allow this week’s Torah portion to inspire us to seek opportunities to truly listen to and openly hear other opinions in our midst.  Let us not reject wisdom that comes our way merely because of its source.  As we watch the Olympic games, let us not get caught up solely in the celebration of those who are faster, higher, and stronger (which is fun, don’t get me wrong).  Let us open our hearts and minds to the recognition that many of the seemingly intractable issues in our world are put aside for the chance to be a part of something as big and incredible as the Olympics.  As such, how much the more so should we recognize that it is possible to find and seek peace in our world and communities.  All we have to do is start with Shema.
Rabbi Ari N. Margolis
V’etchanan 5772

Friday, July 6, 2012

The Technology of Patience


This came from a couple weeks back, but I never got the chance to post it until now.  Better late than never?

Keep your eyes on the prize . . . Hold on, hold on.”

            I have to admit, I always chuckle at those 4G cellphone commercials – the ones in which a bunch of people are sitting around a tailgate party at a football game, one of them trying to fill the others in on some updated story about the health of a player or a video of something funny on his “ancient” 3G network while the others with their new 4G phones have all heard or seen the “discovery” 30 seconds prior. 
Now, I have no clue what cell phone provider the commercials are for (effective advertising?), but I at least get the point about 4G verses 3G.  The ad-wizards who came up with that one recognize that we in today’s society have a perceived need for instant gratification.  And knowing that we can get an answer to who wrote the song that we just heard or how many ounces there are in a cup (8 for anyone cooking while reading this) just a few seconds faster is a life-changing phenomenon.

The technological advances of our day train us to forgo any need for patience.  If we want to order a sandwich for lunch, we can make up our mind from wherever we are by finding the menu online, avoid lines by putting in the order online, and even streamline our route by programming our GPS devices to avoid traffic.  While these advances can make us feel incredibly efficient, they also can train us to think and feel that we can always find a faster way.  And we can get so caught up in the allure of the quick answer, that we can accept the inferior alternative, or even worse, one that does more harm than good.

There isn't always a quick solution.  Sometimes, we do have to wait it out – to hold on. A couple of weeks ago, our Torah portion of Korach told a pretty difficult story of trading patience for convenience.  The people of Israel were sick of wandering in the desert.  They wanted to be there already – they ask the biblical version of the backseat question, “Are we there, yet?”  Korach and his followers attempted to find the quicker alternative, they chose the route of being something they were not – not am Yisrael, the people who wrestle with God, but rather they became people who wrestled against God. In doing so they find a route that leads to their demise.
There are aspects of our lives in which there are no shortcuts.  And just as much as we are willing to invest in technology that makes our lives more efficient, where we can, we should be investing in structures that help us maintain patience when we need it the most.  When we find ourselves or others in need of healing, while we are working to accomplish a major goal at work, while looking for a new job in this economic climate – sometimes we need a good dose of patience.  And to help us remain patient at the times we need it the most, to help us keep our eyes on the prize, as Zemer Lexie often sings to us during the Mi Chamochah prayer at services, we have to turn to our technology of patience – the supportive friends and family and community who can help us sustain our goals, who can lift us up and offer us strength, who can remind us of who we are, when it is tempting to try to be something we are not.
May we each use this summer as a period of upgrading our own technologies of patience.  Let us spend time doing activities that ground us and help us to remember just who we truly aspire to be, and let us strengthen our connections with friends and family and community.  This way, when life calls upon us to find patience, we can take the route that truly leads towards promise, and avoid the pitfalls of the more destructive decisions of haste and convenience.
-          Rabbi Ari N. Margolis Parashat Korach 5772

Friday, June 1, 2012

Female Rabbis, Nazarties, and Priests - OH MY!


                It is official women and Reform Jews can be recognized as Rabbis by the government of Israel.  This past week the Israeli Supreme Court has ruled to recognize Rabbi Miri Gold as the first female and first Reform rabbi to be recognized as the spiritual leader of a neighborhood community.  In Israel, neighborhoods can recognize a rabbi to be the spiritual leader in the area, and such rabbis’ salaries are paid by the State of Israel.  With the Attorney General’s acceptance of the Supreme Court decision, Rabbi Gold, who is the rabbi of Kibbutz Gezer, will be recognized and paid by the State of Israel at a rate equal to the over 4000 Orthodox Rabbis already recognized.  You can read more about this decision via the Israeli newspaper, Haaretz, by clicking here or by reading Rabbi Gold’s own words here.  This has been quite a long road for Rabbi Gold, as I had the privilege of attending a Supreme Court session with some of my classmates in which the court heard Rabbi Gold's case and once again pushed the decision-making to a later date . . . and that was 2008!

It is appropriate that all of Rabbi Gold’s work and sacrifice paid off this of all weeks, as in our Torah portion, we learn about the biblical equivalent of achieving long-term, groundbreaking goals.  While Rabbi Gold had the support of IRAC (Israel Religious Action Center – the Reform Movement’s Israel advocacy branch) pushing the case through the venue of the Israeli court system in order to make her groundbreaking mark on our world, the Torah puts forth a system for change called the Nazarite vow.  One seeking to make a huge change would take this vow, dedicating oneself to the completion of the task and abstaining from shaving, alcohol (or any contact with grapes), and any other self-identified restrictions until the goal has been accomplished (See Numbers, Chapter 6).  In this biblical system, we learn that the Nazir, one who has taken such a vow, commits him or herself (the Torah makes clear that both men and women can enter into such vows) to their ultimate goal and continues to work towards it until completion. 

This Nazarite vow comes as a biblical lesson teaching that great achievement takes sacrifice and dedication.  However, the rabbis of Talmudic times and today recognize that one need not make a formal vow in order to commit oneself with the dedication and resolve shown by Rabbi Gold or shown by so many of us who sacrifice so much in order to achieve our own goals today.    

What I find interesting about this section of Torah is that the Nazarite vow is juxtaposed with one of the most famous blessings of our tradition – the Priestly Blessing – which comes just after the rules of the Nazarite vows.  Rather than seeking change and large accomplishment, this tripartite blessing challenges us to find favor and contentedness in what we are faced with in this world. 

May God bless you and protect you
May the face of God shine upon you and comfort you
May the presence of God be ever with you and grant you peace. (Numbers 6:22-24)

Perhaps this blessing comes on the heels of the Nazarite vow to warn us that we should not get so one-track minded in our pursuits as to miss the blessings that surround us.  Or perhaps it comes after the Nazarite section to remind us the importance of giving thanks for what we have achieved, once we accomplish our goals and can be freed of the vows, commitments, sacrifices, dedications we made to our large goals. 

                In living up to the blessings that complement our Nazarite rules, may we each do three things this weekend: 

1) May we spend this Shabbat taking a moment to be thankful of what we have, even in the midst of our dedication to larger goals.  It’s not fair of me to ask this of you without doing it myself, so I will start: I know I have a lot to give thanks for in our TBO community – thank you all for allowing me to have the time to spend these last few weeks with the great miracle in my family’s life, our newest daughter, Adaya Faye.  Your support and love has been a great source of strength in the middle of our long nights, and the ability to be at home, growing into our new family has made a world of difference to our lives.

     2) And in recognition of Rabbi Miri Gold’s achievement and the efforts of IRAC, Anat Hoffman, the head of IRAC , has asked that letters of thanks be sent to the Israeli government. You can do so by writing to Prime Minister Netanyahu to inform him of our appreciation that Rabbi Miri Gold is finally able to serve her congregation and community as an equal to members of the Orthodox rabbinate.

     3) Find someone to whom we can offer this wonderful blessing, reminding them to take a moment to allow themselves to BE blessed.

May God bless you and protect you.  May the face of God shine upon you and comfort you.  May the presence of God be with you and grant you peace.

Friday, April 20, 2012

Making Today Count



            In this season just following Passover, our tradition invites us to embark on a spiritual journey of finding meaning through the counting of the Omer.  Each day for the 49 days between the start of Passover and the holiday of Shavuot, we are instructed to make an offering.  According to our Torah, this offering was to be an Omer (a specific measurement) of barley.  Today, this period of time calls upon us to find our own source of Omer. 

            We are reminded that each of us has the potential to offer something new to the world every day – to impact another person, to stand up for those who need defending, to advocate for our core values.  At this time of year, we strive to do so consciously, not letting a day go by where we have failed to bring some kind of intentional offering of ourselves.

            While we impact our world, we are also reminded that the barley that was offered in ancient times was not of us but of the earth.  Part of the Omer involves recognition of the gifts that this world has to offer us.  During this period, let us seek out moments of appreciation for the world in which we live.  Let us take time to note and find those elements of our lives that we might take for granted and spend a few moments in gratitude.  Doing so might just offer us the perspective we need to positively and intentionally impact our world.

            In light of this time of year also bringing Yom HaShoah – our day of Holocaust Remembrance – we must be reminded the importance of making each moment count.  By living out this Omer message, we declare to the world and to our ancestors that despite the best attempts of those who tried to wipe out our people, we are still here striving for tikkun olam, the repair of our world, according to our Jewish values.                         

Today is the 13th day of the Omer. 
·      How will I make it different from the previous days? 
·      What will I offer to the world on this day? 
·      What offering does the world have for me? 

If we can find positive answers to each of these questions today and every day of the Omer, our world will be transformed and lifted up.

-       Rabbi Ari N. Margolis
Omer 5772


One way to make an immediate offering to our world is to join with us in opposition to the proposed marriage amendment to the NC State Constitution.  Be sure to vote on or before May 8th.  Talk about it to friends and neighbors.  For more ideas on how to advocate, visit www.equalitync.org


Friday, April 6, 2012

Living the Passover story this year in North Carolina


Wishing you a Happy Passover!  Chag Pesach Sameach!

            I want to wish you a wonderful Passover filled with meaning and may all your matzah be tasty.  As we gather with friends or family for our Passover Seders this year, let us all be reminded of the messages of this holiday. 
            We retell the Exodus story of our ancestors from their enslavement in Egypt, and we are taught that each one of us is to use our imagination as if we were the ones toiling hopelessly in Egypt, watching the plagues shift all of our paradigms, trekking through the desert with a mixture of trepidation and jubilation on our backs right alongside the matzah we were cooking.  Each step away from Egypt brought us closer to freedom and yet had the opposite effect of gravity, making us feel more and more pulled back from whence we came.  And upon reaching freedom, we too feel the exaltation and relief and inspiration that the injustices of Egypt are behind us and that we can work to create a better, more fair society.
Our Passover narrative still rings true today, as we recognize that the Hebrew word for Egypt, mitzrayim, literally means, “narrow places.” One of these narrow places might just be the ballot box in just under a month.  The proposed Amendment One to the state constitution threatens to plague North Carolina with injustice.  Not only does this amendment strip our gay and lesbian friends and family, some of whom may be sitting at our own seders this year, of access to the rights of domestic partnership, but it threatens any loving couple who chooses not to marry for any number of reasons from being able to fully share in one another’s lives. Widowed couples who live together in unmarried partnership might no longer be able to advocate for one another’s health directives. Children raised by two loving partners might be stripped from the only parent they have left, in the case in which their biological parent was to die.  No matter how far away from Egypt we believe ourselves to be, society is constantly challenged by the gravitational pull of our narrower views. 
In the Passover story we see that if it had not been for external help – from an inspirational power like God, from a great leader like Moses, from the faith of Nachshon ben Amindadav (according to a Rabbinic Midrash, the Red Sea only parted after he stepped into it, believing that something could happen), we might still be stuck in the narrow spaces of Egypt.  Let us be inspired to do something about our modern narrow spaces:
o      Volunteer with Equality NC
o      Talk about the core of the issues with family or friends or coworkers or neighbors or grocery counter checkout people.
o      Be sure to vote on or before May 8th (for Early Voting information click here)
o      Come to our Temple Beth Or phone bank, April 15th – 10AM-1PM.  Contact Cindy Schneider, caschneider2000@aol.com, or Eileen Schwartz, eyeschwartz@nc.rr.com, for more details.

Current polling shows that although public sentiment does not agree with the outcome of this amendment, too many North Carolinians remain uninformed as to the potential consequences of this Amendment for it to be defeated. This will not change unless each of us steps forward to be a Moses or a Nachshon or an inspiration to others.
This year, let us each add a symbol to our seder plate, one that represents our contemporary Egypts, our own narrow spaces, our struggle against the injustices of Amendment One.  And when someone asks what it is doing on our seder plates, we can not only retell the story of Passover but relive it, as well. 

Rabbi Ari N. Margolis

Friday, March 23, 2012

Baseball and Sacrifices and Tolouse, France - Let them draw us near to our best selves.


                Sacrifice.  In baseball, it is a useful strategy – bunting the ball with the knowledge that the batter will most likely get thrown out at first, but the net result will be to advance a base-runner to second or third base, drawing them nearer to the promised land of home plate.  A sacrifice represents the giving of oneself, one’s own energy and efforts and statistical prowess, for the benefit of the team.  Ultimately, the act of sacrifice in baseball is a statement of trust in the rest of the team and its bigger mission – to score more runs than the opponent. 
In this week’s Torah portion of Vayikra, we learn the laws of the ancient version of bunting – the sacrifices offered to God, via the priests of the Tabernacle and, eventually, of the Temple.  The Israelites were expected to give from their valuable flock and herds and food stocks – the results of their efforts and energy and prowess – as a means to a relationship with God.  Reading the rules of these sacrifices, however, one realizes that the goods given over to the priesthood were not just burnt up to the heavens, but rather they helped to sustain the community at large.  Some sacrifices ended up going to the poor, while others went to the priests (who could not own their own land), and still others went towards communal celebrations and commemorations.  If a person did not have enough goats to make certain types of sacrifices, one could give pigeons or wheat or even prayers.  The Hebrew word for sacrifice, korban, literally means to draw near – and the ancient korbanot, sacrifices, were intended to draw the Jewish community nearer to one another and to God.
I believe that we need this week’s Torah lesson after a week like this one.  At least I know that I do.  We have heard of the horrific killings of Rabbi Jonathan Sandler, his two children Aryeh and Gavriel, and another child, Miriam Monsonego in Tolouse, France.  While we do not know all of the reasons behind their killings and likely never will, it seems as though they were victimized specifically because of they were Jews.  Upon hearing of such tragedy, we might be reminded that we have been jaded by a nonstop cycle of news reports that transmit death after death to us.  I know that I have allowed myself to become distanced and detached upon hearing of such occurrences, sorting it in my head as another example of how our world is and thanking God that it wasn’t closer to home.  I would guess that I’m not alone.  Perhaps our response should not be one of distance, but of korbanot, of drawing near.  Let us utter a prayer for the community and Jews of France.  Or send condolences to the families of the Ozar HaTorah school: Ozar Hatorah 33 rue Jules Dalou 31500 Toulouse, France.  Let us hug and love our dear ones.  May we prevent this moment from distancing us from our best selves but rather bring ourselves nearer to the compassionate, supportive people we value and strive to be. 
If the purpose of a baseball sacrifice is to increase the hopes of scoring a run, then maybe our modern day sacrifices involve preventing ourselves from giving in to the evils that we see in our world.  With each senseless tragedy, we can choose to spread hope in this world, through gestures small and large, sending out the message that we cannot accept that such acts are merely the way of the world.  There has to be a better way.  We cannot and will not stop searching and working to draw ourselves nearer to that world.

Parashat Vayikra 5772