Friday, November 11, 2016

Journeying Forward


Lech l'chah, you will go forth on a journey...

This week's Torah portion speaks of the journey that Abram and Sarai (their names before they became Abraham and Sarah) embarked upon in order to reach their destiny, becoming the progenitors of the Jewish people and of the values that have shaped our world. Journeys of change are never easy, they involve letting go of expectations and assumptions, facing unforeseen challenges, embracing unexpected outcomes. However, as our Torah teaches over the next few weeks, journeys are critical to our abilities to become, to transcend, to grow.

Our country is in the midst of a journey - one that was started before this week's election results. This long and bitter campaign has brought forth many feelings, many perspectives, many painful words from all sides of the political spectrum. Regardless of the election's outcome, our society had already left what many of us had assumed it to be. Frustrations and hopes of all kinds had come to the surface in a cacophony of voices, unsettling us whether right or left or in between. We have become a nation who no longer knows one another, losing its grounding in shared values and ideals, focusing instead on what divides us. This way is untenable, and therefore, a journey is necessary.

Some of us are disappointed or frightened by the outcomes of the vote, worried that words that have denigrated parts of society and voters who carry with them prejudices and biases against sections of our society (including our Jewish community) will lead to the actions of our future. To this view, our Torah portion reminds us that one way to overcome such concerns is to reach out in relationship to those beyond our inner circles. Abram and Sarai enter a land where they knew no one. They feared being judged unkindly and even killed (which is why Abram introduced his wife as his sister to the foreign king ... long story). They remained vigilant as to the threats that arose around them, they advocated for what they knew was right (even standing up to God for what they believed). As they interacted with others in accordance to their core values and with respect for others, they were able to help transcend their fears and build a better world around them. Eventually, when Sarah passed away, the neighboring people so wanted to help Abraham, they were willing to give away land for her burial. We are already on this journey, abandoning hope is not an option. 

Others among us are excited or hopeful or optimistic or relieved by Tuesday's results. We may or may not agree with every element of the agenda that has been espoused, but think the country needed a new direction, fiscally or politically. We have responsibilities, as well, to welcome others into our tents, to listen to the fears and ideas of our neighbors and seek truth from all sources, allowing space for all voices. Abraham and Sarah learn of the fulfillment of their dreams only by speaking with the strangers they welcomed into their home and treated with kindness and care. Assuming nothing about these wanderers from their backgrounds or what they wore or what accents they had - only assuming they were made in the image of God like the rest of us and would need food and drink in the middle of their desert wandering, Sarah and Abraham allowed these three messengers from God to shape their journeys for the better. If we wish our communities and this country to come back together, we have to be open to those we do not know or who disagree with us politically, not assuming the worst of others, but finding ways to love and appreciate their humanity. We cannot complete this journey alone.

Whatever our reactions, our journey has already begun. The question for all of us now becomes, how will we respond? We all have to accept the reality that 1 out of every 2 people in our country chose a different candidate to lead us on this journey. More individuals chose one path, more states chose another. This divide demands of us to notice and acknowledge the hurt and pain that has been caused on all sides during this campaign, and have some sensitivity to one another. And perhaps we have to find a way to end the blame game of who caused what and instead focus on what we can now do together. This moment in time requires us all to look in the mirror and question what we need to let go of and what we need to hold on to in order to be a part of what we might become. 

Ahead lies our journey - once we mourn our lost expectations or celebrate our victories or contemplate in confusion what just happened, it is time for us to go forth like Abram and Sarai with trepidations, hopes, and fears. We have already left home. We must reach out to others we do not ordinarily talk to. We must be vigilant and be aware of hate and misogyny and labeling and prejudice that surround us. When we notice, we have to advocate for others and for ourselves, these are our core values as Jews. We all have an obligation show our disgust at the fringe hate groups who are reveling in our nation's choices, and we have to hold our leaders accountable and demand that they join us in shunning those who seek to divide us even further. 

We cannot bury our heads in our disappointment that the end is nigh, nor can we live in a euphoric fantasy that all is going to be just fine, now. Change takes effort and work. As we spoke of at the High Holidays, what defines us is not the world around us, rather we are defined by the ways we respond to that worldfinding the strength to be our best selves, adding love and justice and respect to the world through the journeys we live. Let us start locally, showing kindness and respect to those around us in our Or Shalom community and in our neighborhood communities. Let us lift one another up and make one another better, giving us all strength for the journey ahead. This is what we will begin to do at our Veteran's Shabbat service this Friday night. This is what it will take if we wish to be successful in our journey to make America greater and stronger together.

Friday, October 28, 2016

An Ode to the Intersection of Bereshit and My Beloved Cubs



An ode to the intersection of this week's Torah portion, Bereshit, and my beloved Cubs:

In the beginning. . . 
There was a team that experienced an abundance of success. They went to the World Series three times in a row. But they fell from grace after two straight championships. Expelled from the Garden of Greatness, they lost their way, squandering opportunity after opportunity. They experienced a deluge of misfortune, a famine of talent and success as they turned away from the land of the World Series, winding up in the bondage of ineptitude. They wandered, searching to find the promised land for 71 years, escaping the oppression of poor management and indifferent ownership, never losing hope. 


Suddenly, a new team arose who knew not the Cubs of the past. Together with new ownership, sabermetric analysis, young talent, and innovative management, the long suffering crew has found its way to back to the World Series, standing on the precipice of the promised land. 

By next week, we will all know the outcome of this part of our story, yet to be written. But what we do know is that sure enough, a new baseball season will come next Spring with new opportunities for redemption, renewal, and understanding, just as we have opportunities to find the same in our own hearts during this next year of reading our Torah. 

Here's hoping that the team that taught me to understand the narratives of our people, always striving to return home to the promised land, will have found their Jerusalem. And whether they do or not, as we say at the end of Passover ... Next year in the World Series! 

Friday, July 22, 2016

Looking Past the Opinions

I know it has been a while since posting... Rabbinic life has been busy!  There are too many situations around us for which there have been no words.  So, I felt compelled to post once again - we'll see if this becomes a regular habit... For now, here are the words of Torah that I sent to my congregation this week.

            There are a lot of words flying around at us these days. It can be difficult to discern truth amid the itchy blanket of opinions that has been thrown over us. How are we supposed to know what and who to believe?
            
In this week’s Torah portion, the foreign prophet, Balaam, struggles with a similar dilemma. The Moabite King, Balak, commissions him to put a curse on the Israelites. Despite pledging that he will only say the truth that God puts in his mouth, Balaam attempts to override his prophetic methods and listen to the opinions of Balak. He first sets out and must be reminded by a talking donkey that there is such a thing as truth. Attempting to chart his own course and ignoring all that he had learned to that point, Balaam almost ran into his own demise. His trusty donkey saved his life by stopping right before an angel of God, ready to smite Balaam in the midst of his rebellion. And how did Balaam thank the donkey? By beating him. Only then, did this animal speak, reminding Balaam, “How long have I been your steed? Have I ever done anything like this before?”
            
This donkey made Balaam take a step back and think. He reconnected with his core values instead of allowing himself to get swept up in the rhetorical pressures of the king with a nefarious agenda. It was only then that Balaam could remember what allowed him to find truth in the first place – not by imposing it upon the world, but by paying attention and noticing, by using evidence and assessment. So it was, despite setting out to fulfill Balak’s request, even after the donkey and angel incident, that Balaam opened his mouth to speak. And as the rabbis teach, when he saw the Israelites’ tents – how they were arranged to allow for respect for one another and equality – he found the truth that existed and shined brighter than the opinions that were being thrust at him. He instead said the words, “Mah tovu ohalecha Ya’akov? Mishk’nothecha, Yisrael?”  How beautiful are your tents, O Jacob? Your dwelling places, O Israel?
            
These words have become a source of blessing for us, still today, as they make up a traditional morning prayer recited daily. This beautiful prayer only came because Balaam was able to put aside the pressure-laden, judgmental opinions being thrust upon him by a king with an agenda. Balaam used his own eyes, his own thoughts, and most importantly, his own core values to assess the situation and see what truly lay before him.
        
May we each find the strength to open our own eyes and see beyond the partisan, agenda-filled rhetoric that has filled our lives these days. May we find ways to see goodness, may we continue to respect the lives of all people in our society, and may we attempt to fill the world with a light so bright that it shines greater than the voices that have been tearing the fabric of our society apart.