Exploring Beneath the Surface

Have any of you ever been scuba diving? I have been snorkeling. The two most memorable times have been on a reef at the tip of the Sinai desert at a place called Ras Muhammad, and off the beach on Culebra island in Puerto Rico. It was astounding to see an underwater world that I was completely unaware of. But I have never been scuba diving. I have never strapped a heavy tank of air on my back and plunged into the depths of the ocean. A writer named Sara Debbie Gutfreund describes her first experience as a scuba diver. She took the training, she knows how to breath, how to communicate with her hands, how to stay calm as she descends to the ocean floor. Still, she says, as she sits on the edge of the boat and her instructor tells her to fall backwards into the deep, she is not sure she can let go.

But she does it. As she drifts toward the bottom of the ocean she describes what she sees and feels. Clusters of coral reefs with thousands of multi-colored fish racing through them. A huge sea turtle. Light dancing on the surface of the water. It is so quiet she can hear the beating of her own heart. It is so beautiful, she says, she cannot believe that just yesterday she did not know that life went this deep. She cannot believe that she almost refused to let go, to fall backward, to trust that she would remember to breath.

The High Holidays are upon us, she writes, beckoning us to look beneath the surface. Urging us to let go and be open to change. Calling on us to trust in the power of G-d’s love as we courageously examine our shortcomings, forgive those who have wronged us, and ask forgiveness from those we have wronged. Inviting us to take some time to slow down to listen to the beating of our own hearts, to notice every breath that we take, to pause and be aware of the beauty of the afternoon light as it dances on the surface of the leaves.

Yes, the High Holidays are a time to dive deep into our own lives, but how exactly do we do this? She then asks a simple but fascinating question. “If you put an envelope of a million dollars into a poor person’s knapsack, but he doesn’t know that it is there, is he rich or is he poor? Likewise, if you have thousands of gifts in your life but you are too distracted or preoccupied with the demands of daily life to appreciate them -- do you really have those gifts at all?”

She writes that the homeless person is, of course, technically rich. He or she possesses a million dollars, after all. But what good does it do if that person never opens the backpack with the money? We too, may have a thousand gifts in our lives. But if we never look inside the envelope that contains our blessings, we cannot use them. The hardest arithmetic to master is that which enables us to count our blessings, says writer Eric Hoffer.

Sometimes those blessings are not at all obvious. It is difficult to see beneath the surface to the gifts that lie below. The water below can be murky, and we cannot always distinguish between our treasures and our tribulations. Perhaps that is why our tradition teaches us to bless the good fortune in our lives as well as what we consider the bad fortune. As Maimonides explains, sometimes what we think is good for us can turn out bad, and sometimes what we think is bad for us can turn out to be good. We cannot always tell what is a blessing and what is a curse. Take, for example, the story of Brooklyn-born Alan Rabinowitz. Alan suffered from a severe childhood stutter that kept him from speaking to people. But for some reason he could speak to animals without stuttering. One day, when visiting the Bronx zoo, he stood before the big cats enclosure and made a vow to them: “If I ever stop stuttering, I will become your voice.”

When Alan finally overcame his stutter at the age of 19, he lived up to his promise and devoted his life to saving tigers, leopards, and jaguars from extinction. He became one of the world’s most celebrated wildlife conservationists. The New York Times dubbed him the “Indiana Jones of Wildlife Protection.”

In a Reform Judaism magazine interview, Rabbi Naomi Levy asked Alan if he’d ever thought about the parallel between his speech impediment and that of Moses. The thought had never occurred to him, but after some reflection, Alan came to the realization that the arc of his life revealed a higher purpose. “Stuttering gave me my life,” he told the rabbi. “It was a gift. I’m so grateful to have been born a stutterer, because that’s how I got to where I am.”

The High Holiday season is a time for us to take a step back from our busy lives and take a deep dive to peer into a world that we may be only dimly aware exists. May we all discover the gifts that lie beneath the surface of our lives. And may we use these newly discovered, or re-discovered, blessings to change and to grow and to enrich our lives in the coming New Year.

All My Bones Cry Out

Recently a five-year-old girl was attending her first bar mitzvah  our synagogue. She looked on expectantly as she waited for the service to begin. She saw the Cantor on the bima tuning her guitar. She saw the bar mitzvah boy all dressed up in suit and tie getting fitted with his lapel microphone. She saw Bernie opening the doors of the Ark to check on the Torah scrolls. There was Lisa Olhausen checking the microphones on at the podiums to make sure they were working properly. As I walked into the sanctuary, I turned to the grandfather and wished him a Shabbat Shalom. I smiled at his granddaughter. As I turned to leave, I heard the granddaughter say to her grandfather, “Is he going to be in the show too?”

There is something of the theater in our worship services. There  is the raised platform – a stage in the theatrical world, a “bima” in our worship.  There is the "audience". There is music. There is drama. There is choreography. It is part of that choreography that I want to teach about tonight.

I am frequently   asked why Jews move when we pray. At least in some communities, “shuckling” or rocking back and forth as we recite prayers, is a feature of Jewish worship. I believe is likely that people began naturally swaying as a response to the rhythm of the prayers they were reciting when they were standing up. The 12^th century Spanish sage Yehudah HaLevi writes that the custom arose because of the lack of prayer books. According to his theory, worshippers would lay one large prayer book on the ground, then take turns bending over it to read a passage. The practice has also been connected to two verses in scriptures. The first is from Psalms. “Kol Atsmotai Tomarnah Mi Chamocha” – all of the bones of my body cry out ‘Who is Like Unto You, G-d….” Not only our mouths move when we pray, but our entire body prays to G-d. Every fiber of our being is involved in our worship. Alternatively there is this  verse is from Proverbs. “The soul is the candle of G-d.” Just as a candle flickers on the wick, so our soul causes our body to move as it attempts to break free of the body and ascend on high during worship.

Most of us here, however, do not shuckle. We may have seen shuckling when we have attended an Orthodox synagogue, or seen a movie featuring Orthodox characters, but most of us don’t do this when we pray. In fact, when I was in seminary one of my fellow students had an internship at a Reform synagogue. During prayer, he began shuckling. He was told by the members of the congregation, in no uncertain terms, that this was inappropriate in their synagogue. It made other worshippers feel uncomfortable. So, be careful where you shuckle, if you shuckle at all.

There are movements, however, that are part of our worship here at CBS. We take three steps back from the ark when begin the Amidah, and then move forward three steps. At the conclusion of the Amidah, we take three steps backwards, and bow forward, then to the right and to the left, as we recite “Oseh Shalom”.  What is that about? Where does this custom originate, and what does it is its significance for us?

The Talmud relates that on Yom Kippur the High Priest would enter the Holy of Holies, the sacred space in front of the ark, and offer incense. When he exited that room, he would walk backwards. This became the appropriate way for a student to leave his teacher. The Talmud tells us that when R’ Elazar wished to depart from his teacher, Rabbi Yochanan, he would walk backwards until his teacher could not see him turn around. The Talmud then teaches, “One who has prayed the Amidah should take three steps backward, and afterward say, “Shalom”.

When we recite the Amidah, which is the set of prayers to which our services build, it is as if we are standing directly in the Presence of G-d. We are the priest, offering our sacrifices to G-d on the altar. We take three steps backward, to prepare ourselves for the moment, and then three steps forward, to come before “The Throne” as it were. When we conclude our prayers, we take three steps backward, bow, and turn to the right and the left. Our turning to the right at the left – and reciting the “Oseh Shalom” represents our return to the normal world. We symbolically say “Shalom” to the people on our right and the people on our left. This distinguishes between the holy place where we were standing, and the mundane spot where we stand now.

Why three steps, and not two or four? For this we can point to the Book of Deuteronomy, which describes Moses’ ascent to Mt. Sinai. It says that Moses encountered “darkness, clouds and fog”. These were the three “gates” that Moses went through. When Moses exited, he went through the same three gates. Therefore, when we depart from G-d, we take three steps backward.

In reality, our bones do not cry out when we pray. In reality, our souls do not cling to our bodies like a flame to the wick of a candle. In reality, G-d does not sit on a Throne above our ark. Yet we use these metaphors to express our connection to G-d. We are drawn to use our creative powers to articulate our connection to the ineffable, of the mystery of the Divine. Sometimes our most profound religious experiences require acts of imagination.

Shabbat Shalom

Will YOU 10Q? : Shabbat Shofetim

We are fast approaching the Yamim Noraim, the High Holidays. Only three more weeks to go.As we all know  people the world over celebrate their  respective s New Years with drinks, with specific foods  and with parties. Fireworks have long been a staple of New Year  celebrations in many parts of the world along with spending time with loved  ones and friends. It is a time to temporarily escape our day to day lives and forget our daily struggles and challenges. For Jews it is just the opposite. Instead of forgetting ourselves for a few hours, we try to remember. We look over the past year, identify our sins, ask for forgiveness, and resolve to do better. We engage in a process we call TeSHUVAH – a turning in to ourselves, a turning out to others, and a return to our spiritual lives and to G-d.

There are of course traditional ways that Jews have always approached this. We hope that somehow our religious services for the High Holidays will help people to do Teshuvah. But there are certain challenges for rabbis and cantors in helping people accomplish the task. Rabbis hope that their brilliant sermons will inspire people to reflect upon their lives. But that doesn’t usually work.  We hope we can help people to connect their own experiences to the liturgy of the High Holidays. But that rarely works.  Cantors hope that their beautiful music will touch something in the soul that will bring about true repentance. But at times it is unclear whether that works.  In fact there is only one way that we can do TESHUVAH – we, each one of us, has to work!

Tonight I want to share with you a unique way of doing the work of Teshuvah. It is through a website called “Do You 10Q?” You go to the website www.doyou10Q.com and sign up. Then, starting on September 29, the first day of Rosh Hashannah, a 10Q question will arrive in your inbox along with a link. When you click on the link, you are taken to a private and personal space where you can answer the question in writing. Then you save your answer. Then, each day of the Ten Days of Repentance, you will receive another email with another question. You click on the link and answer the new question. At the end of ten days, you can click on the magic button and deposit all your answers to “the vault”. Your answers will be held securely in the vault until sometime before next Rosh Hashanah, when, one day, they will show up in your inbox for you to read.

With each question, you can choose to share your answer with the public, either anonymously or with attribution. Or, you can keep your answers private. It is up to you.

To give you an idea , here are three questions, along with some answers, from last year:

Question 1:  “Describe a significant experience that has happened in the past year. How did it affect you? Are you grateful? Relieved? Resentful? Inspired?”

 Answer: “Lots of small things and nothing that big. I did realize that if I stay in one place longer, rather than traveling weekly on work, it does help my health! I'm relieved to know that things like my BP can be bought under control if I can manage to curtail travel and ensure exercise and most importantly sleep,” writes one anonymous respondent.

Question 5:  Have you had any particularly spiritual experiences this past year? How has this experience affected you? "Spiritual" can be broadly defined to include secular spiritual experiences: artistic, cultural, and so forth.

 Answer “I feel a lot more connected to God since I've gotten pregnant and had a baby. It is truly a miracle.”

Another person wrote: “I lowered my guard. I was met with kindness and connection.”

“G-d this is going to sound so dumb -- but watching "Coco." I found the film profoundly, unexpectedly, moving. I am thinking more and more of my loved ones who have passed on as a result, seeing their guidance and wisdom in some of my daily decisions. Sometimes that makes it feel like they haven't left at all.”

Question 9: “What is a fear that you have and how has it limited you? How do you plan on letting it go or overcoming it in the coming year?”

One person answered: Fear of losing my independence. I don't have the first clue how to let it go or overcome it. I will learn.”

Another wrote:  My biggest fear that has held me back would he my fear of not being good enough for my goals/dreams …….I don't feel worthy enough………I will conquer my fear one day at a time.

A third wrote: “I am afraid of diabetes and breast cancer. I need to take back control of my health in order to prevent the terrible diseases which are my heritage.”

These questions aim to guide us in doing the difficult work of Teshuvah. The Rabbi can’t do it for us. The Cantor can’t do it for us. The Choir can’t do it for us. Our beautiful building can’t do it for us. We must do the work ourselves. I think this website can be helpful. I have decided to use it this year and see how it works for me. I’ll post the website address on our Facebook page. Would you join me?

Shabbat Shalom

Knocking on Heaven's Door

This evening marks the beginning of the month of Elul. The month of Elul is a time of preparation for the New Year. In a few weeks we will gather in this sanctuary to celebrate RoshHashanah. Although we can repent and return to G-d every day of our lives, the sages emphasize that the month of Elul is an especially propitious time to do Teshuvah.   According to our tradition, it was on the first day of Elul that Moses ascended for the second time to Mount Sinai after our people sinned through worship of the Golden Calf. The Blesses Holy One said to Moses, “Come up to me upon the Mount,” and, accompanied by the blast of the shofar Moses returned to Mount Sinai to receive the second set of tablets. In commemoration of this event it is customary for us to sound the shofar at the end of our morning prayers from  this first day of Elul until the eve of Rosh Hashanah – with the exception of Shabbat! It is also the time of year when we make a sincere effort to examine the mistakes of our past and commit ourselves to not return to our errors in the future.

The story of the Golden Calf teaches us that G-d is forgiving. Once the people of Israel reflected on their mistakes and resolved not to repeat them, G-d was willing to take them back in love. They get a second chance to receive the Ten Commandments.  As you might remember, the result of sin was the shattering of the first set of tablets. This represents the breach in the relationship between G-d and the Jewish people. When Moses returns with the second set of tablets, it symbolizes the complete healing of the relationship. Repentance has created wholeness once again and an opportunity for a fresh start.

The Rabbis say that the letters of the month of Elul – Aleph, Lamed, Vav, Lamed – are an acronym for the verse from the Song of Songs – Ani Le-Dodi ve-Dodi Li – “I am my Beloved’s and my Beloved is Mine”. Thus contained in the very word “ELUL” is an invitation to draw closer to G-d during the month. It is through this closeness with G-d that we can overcome our fears and our apprehensions   about looking into our shortcomings. We are assured of G-d’s love for us no matter what we may find when we examine ourselves. But how do we go about this self-examination and teshuvah? Rabbi Aaron Gaber of Newtown, Pennsylvania engaged his congregation in the process of repentance by instituting what he called the “Cheshbon Ha-Nefesh Project” last year. Over a period of ten days in the month of Elul he sent out a series of questions via email to which his congregants were invited to respond in writing. What brought you the most joy over the course of the year?  What caused the most pain?  What was the Jewish high point and Jewish low point? What do you love most about being Jewish and what do you struggle with the most?  What goals did you set for yourself?  How did you achieve them?  What were the obstacles to accomplishing those goals?  What do you most regret over the past year?  Who did you hurt and how can you make up for what you have done?  If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?  How might you go about doing this?

In his anthology for the High Holidays the Israeli writer and Nobel Laureate S.Y. Agnon tells the following cautionary tale attributed to the 19^th century Rabbi Hayyim of Zans.

There was once a poor countrywoman who had many children. They were always begging for food, but she had none to give them. One day she found an egg. She called her children. “Children, we have nothing to worry about,” she said. I found an egg. But I am a prudent woman. We shall not eat the egg. I will ask our neighbor if we can set it under her hen until a chick is hatched. But I am a wise woman – we shall not eat the chick. We will raise her and she in turn will lay many eggs, and we will have many chickens. But I am a far-sighted woman. We will not eat the chickens. We will sell them and buy a cow. But we will not eat the cow either, for I am a shrewd woman. We will let the cow have calves. We will not eat the cow or the calves but sell them and and buy ourselves a field. Then we will have a field, and we can grow our own crops, and we will never be hungry again!

As the countrywoman was speaking in this way and playing with the egg, it fell out of her hands and broke!

Rabbi Hayyim concludes with the moral of the story. “This is how we are. When the Holy Days arrive, every person resolves to do Teshuvah, thinking in his or her heart, “I will do this, or I will do that.” But the days slip by in mere deliberation, and the thoughts never lead to any action, and what is worse, the person who is merely thinking these thoughts may fall even lower.”

It was the custom in Eastern Europe at one time that the person in charge of prayers would make the rounds of the village, knocking three times on each door and saying, “Israel, holy people, awake, arouse yourselves and rise for repentance.” It is 30 days until Rosh Hashanah. We hear the knocking on the door. Don’t sleep in. Answer the call. Turn in, turn to others, and turn to G-d.

Shabbat Shalom