Drash by congregant Stu Baker on the Healing path of Addiction Recovery delivered on Friday August 30th

I’ll begin with a quote from this week’s Haftorah, Isaiah Chapter 61 verse 10 through Chapter 63 verse 9.

“Nevermore shall you be called ‘Forsaken,’

Nor shall your land be called ‘Desolate’.”

Rejoicing and an expression of gratitude towards G-d for victory over our enemies as well as a recognition of the costs of trampling our foes characterize this weeks reading.

In biblical times, as in our own, enemies are very real. The thought that someone or something “out there” can seek our destruction can be frightening, even paralyzing. All one needs to do is read the headlines to see stories of tragedy from natural events, violence fueled by hatred, greed, or intolerance. In our every day lives the enemy can be very private, secret and lethal.

Let me tell you a story – of one person’s struggle with his enemies –

David first came to us as a drunk doomed to failure. He had been through countless detoxification facilities and treatment programs. He would sober up briefly, for about two or three weeks, then relapse with crack cocaine and alcohol. He was on intimate terms with his drug dealers. Most likely he was one of their best and most reliable customers.

David’s fall from grace had been a journey.

I guess what drew my attention to him to me initially was that we shared a passion for photography. He had seen some of my photographs in my office and we began to talk about them. He told me that at one point of his life, he had also worked in the human services field as a case manager. Here was a kindred spirit. He was well spoken and when he was sober, a soft spoken, kind soul. His wife of more than two decades had stood by him – through good times and bad. The good times had been great – years of sobriety – steady employment – happy memories with a woman he adored. But something was there – always lurking in the background. There was this low level sadness in his life that would never go away –

David met with our psychiatrist – one of the best we had. He prescribed some medications, but to no avail. Our doctor was equally puzzled. Our team decision was to work with him on engaging in 12-step programs and to continue working with groups, individual and couples counseling. Meanwhile, David continued his pattern of brief sobriety, detoxification and return to treatment. He found a very strong sponsor in AA, someone who had met him in our program and who had several years of sobriety under his belt. This is a person who works a very spiritual program and has a deep understanding of the struggle of getting sober.

Following his last relapse, after he threatened the woman he loved, his sponsor helped him enter one last detoxification and then enter a long-term treatment program through the Salvation Army.

David returned to us with six months sobriety. He was ready now to begin doing battle with his demons. He got honest about his childhood. Prior to this he had never been willing to talk about his past growing up. He shared with me the horror that had been his life when he was young. At age 5 he had been taken away from his mother, abducted by his father. His witnessed his father come home drunk regularly and beat his stepmother. David was told how worthless he was, threatened and beaten. Then his father suddenly died and David was faced with making his way in the world.

David’s enemies were inside of him. They were the echoes of his past haunting him. As he was on the verge of success – getting a new job, completing a treatment episode, finishing a training program – he relapsed – drank, smoked crack cocaine – got arrested.

He was now attending 12-step meetings and attending his wife’s church. He agreed, reluctantly, to attend our Men’s Trauma and Recovery group. Meeting weekly with other men who had been through awful experiences, David began to speak about the unspeakable. He told his story to others in small pieces and received attention, compassion and understanding from his brothers. At the same time in the rooms of Alcoholic’s Anonymous and in his church he began to develop relationships with people who genuinely cared for him. He grew to be good friends with his pastor, and was being considered for a position as an elder in the church.

But the enemy never sleeps.

About 18 months ago, David began to experience excruciating gut pain. Multiple trips to the emergency department were futile. The pain was apparently real, but no cause was found. Finally, a gift from G-d, a clever doctor decided to run one more test and there it was… pancreatic cancer.

In the past David would have used this as an excuse. “See, my father was right, I am messed up!” He would be drunk and high on cocaine. This time was different. David chose to stand his ground and fight. He underwent chemotherapy, attended groups for support, and continued his close ties with his church.

He and I have had long conversations about staying focused on today… The slogan from AA about “one day at a time” took on a new and deeper meaning. Every day had become precious to David. Every moment with his wife - a blessing.

In Isaiah, we are told that G-d makes a promise to us:

The Lord has sworn by his right hand, by his mighty arm:

Nevermore will I give your new grain

To your enemies for food,

Nor shall foreigners drink the new wine

For which you have labored.

But those who harvest it shall eat it

And give praise to the Lord;

And those who gather it shall drink it

In my sacred courts. (Isaiah chpt 62, v 8-9)

David’s journey, our journey, is from feeling and believing that we are “hopeless” – that no matter what, nothing can help us triumph over our “enemies”- to feeling a sense of hope – a belief that – somehow – we can be victorious. We are not alone in the struggle.

But, how do we do this?

I can only wish that this could be done simply and easily. Just flick the switch, get the Hope APP on my iPhone, push the right button or tab, and miracle of miracles, I have Hope!

But we know from our life experiences, this just is not the case. To move from anger, despair and hopelessness to serenity, gratitude, and hope requires us to travel through the process of acceptance and surrender.

The members of Alcoholics Anonymous make a suggestion of the steps to this journey:

“We admitted that we were powerless…and our lives had become unmanageable.” What are we powerless over? In a word…our enemies… whatever that may be… addiction, disease, natural disasters, the actions of others.

“We came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.” Taking a leap of faith, that someone or something outside of me…something bigger, greater and grander than me can get rid of this mishugas in my life.

And, “We made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of G-d, as we understood him.” Here’s the crunch. Its not enough to just believe. We have to trust that G-d will help, that we will be held, and cared for.

Father Joseph Martin ran a treatment center outside of Baltimore. As a young counselor I had the privilege of hearing him speak while I was in Richmond, Virginia. He described the first three steps of the Twelve Steps of AA this way:

Step One … “I can’t handle it.”

Step Two… “I believe someone or something can help.”

Step Three… “I’m going to let G-d help.”

So, how do I move from believing in G-d to letting G-d into my life?

David teaches me that this involves letting other people care about me. More importantly, I believe that they do care. I am not alone in the struggle. The other half is that I show that I care about others. They are not alone in their struggle. My hope for recovery comes from being with and comes through other people. Each day is precious. Each day holds promise, renewed.

I explain hope to clients as “H” “O” “P” “E” – Having Opportunities Presented Everyday…

Our days are a stream of choices and opportunities – Do I do the “right thing?” – What is the right thing? What is the loving and caring thing to do or say? If I have genuinely turned my will and life over to the CARE of G-d – what does that look like? How do I let others in? How do I show care to others so they know that they are not alone?

My will is “I want what I want…and I want it NOW!”  This includes all sorts of stuff … things-like toys, money, who my relationships are with, how can I move forward in my career or my life… its all about me – Ego – satisfying myself – my wants and needs –

This is a daily struggle - so I make a conscious decision – a prayer – “G-d’s will not my will” – then the events in my life will play out accordingly – I look around and remind myself of what I am grateful for -  for me, a loving wife, family and friends– ample food and shelter – for David –it is time with his wife and having loving friends – for each of us we need to find the answer – to take an inventory of our lives daily and express gratitude.

Let me quote Father Martin again – “we have to put feet on our prayers” – the act of turning our will and our life over to Care involves action – not just prayer – This is how we build Hope – by demonstrating care for ourselves, accepting from and giving care to others

Isaiah directs us:

I will recount the kind acts of the Lord,

The praises of the Lord –

For all that the Lord has wrought for us,

The vast bounty to the House of Israel

That he bestowed upon them

According to His mercy and His great kindness.

If we do the work, then the promise is:

“Nevermore shall you be called ‘Forsaken,’

Nor shall your land be called ‘Desolate’.”

Drash by Dr. Jeannette Ickovics on Healing in our Communities - Delivered Friday evening, August 23th 2013

Approximately six years ago next month, I was teaching in Winslow Auditorium at the Yale School of Public Health. It was the second day of my class on the Social and Behavioral Foundations of Health, and we were discussing the impact of race and social class on health.  There were nearly 120 students present – and it was only the second day of class – so I didn’t have much credibility yet.

About one-third of the way through my lecture, an African American woman sitting in the third row, fourth seat from the right, raised her hand – and with a good deal of contempt in her voice – asked me what I knew of these things as “a white woman of privilege”?

At that time, after almost two decades of teaching, no one had ever confronted me like that.  And for the first – and only – time in my life, I had a full sympathetic nervous system response – my heart rate and blood pressure accelerated, I got tunnel vision, and I thought I was going to pass out.

I took a deep breath, and steadied myself on the podium.  Then I replied – totally unprepared:  “You are right, I am privileged.   And so are all of you – having the opportunity to be graduate students at one of the finest universities in the world. …  But I didn’t come from privilege.”

And for the first time professionally and publically, I revealed to this class of 120 students, whom I didn’t know, that I was a child of Holocaust survivors. 

It was a defining moment for me professionally.  It was very personal and emotional.  And it opened up an opportunity for me to discuss with the class – the tragic impact of stigma, discrimination and persecution on health and mental health.  It opened up an opportunity to discuss assumptions we make all too quickly – and as burgeoning professionals, how important it is to be non-judgmental to best promote the health of the public. And it opened up an opportunity to discuss public health as social justice. The idea here is that health is a moral imperative.  According to the World Health Organization, while there are no guarantees for good health, society can and should design and build effective institutions and social systems to support all citizens in the fundamental pursuit of health and well-being.

And for me, it was an opportunity to redouble my commitment to this health and social justice approach. 

Around the same time, my mother was dying of melanoma.  So I was acutely aware of the legacy that I needed to carry forth as the daughter of Holocaust survivors – not just for me, but for Tyler and our children: Ethan and Sam.   A legacy of not just surviving, but thriving.  And a legacy of tikkun olam – repairing or healing the world.  I knew that I could not be a bystander to the injustices I witnessed daily in health and public health.  To the social inequities that I saw in race and social class – and about which this student had confronted me.

Now some of you may even be wondering, what exactly is Public Health.  [I get that question a lot.] Public health refers to organized measures to prevent disease, promote health, and prolong life among the population as a whole. We are concerned with the total system and not only the health of an individual or the eradication of a particular disease.  Public health functions to monitor health of communities, formulate public policies to address health priorities, and assure that populations have access to appropriate and cost-effective care. 

My own research is in two main areas, spanning the developmental lifespan:  maternal and child health and chronic disease prevention.

First, for nearly my entire career (I arrived at Yale in 1989), I have worked in maternal and child health – particularly with urban teens and young women.  Over the last decade, I have been running large randomized controlled trials on a model of group prenatal care that results in better birth outcomes for women and their babies:  for example, we have documented a 33% reduction in preterm delivery (the leading cause of infant morbidity and mortality) and a 50% reduction in rapid repeat pregnancy (I say with full respect to the young women I work with, that the only thing more challenging than a 15 year old with one child, is a 16 year old with two).   We are now conducting a study with United Health Foundation in Detroit, Nashville and McAllen TX in advance of a planned national scale up of this model of group prenatal care in 2016. 

Second, six years ago, on the heels of that confrontation in the classroom, I started CARE:  Community Alliance for Research and Engagement.  Our goal is to improve health in New Haven with a specific focus on the prevention of chronic diseases – such as obesity, diabetes, heart disease and cancers – which account for 75% of our nation’s $2.5 trillion dollar healthcare expenditures – and have tremendous human costs in terms of illness and premature death. Our work in New Haven is deep in the neighborhoods and schools and we use a community organizing approach with a strong social justice foundation.

What these two seemingly disparate areas of research have in common are the inclusion of those traditionally vulnerable and underserved, dedication to scientific rigor and community engagement principles, and a commitment to tikkun olam – healing the world, in whatever small ways we are able. 

Finally, I’d like to close with some connection of my work to this week’s Torah portion and the impending High Holy Days.

Ki Tavo:  When You Enter

When you enter the land that the Eternal your God is giving you as a heritage, and you possess it and settle in it, you shall take some of every first fruit of the soil, which you harvest from the land that the Eternal your God is giving to you, put it in a basket and go to the place where the Eternal your God will choose to establish the divine name. [Deuteronomy 26:1-2]

The Israelites are instructed to express their gratitude to God for their bountiful harvests and freedom from slavery by tithing 10% of their crops for the Levite, the stranger, the orphan, and the widow (verse 26) (ReformJudaism.org).

In this parsha, we are told to tithe crops.  But one may also tithe other things of value to help the Levite, the stranger, the orphan and the widow – notably our time and our money.  Of course, the upcoming High Holidays are a time of personal reflection and repentance, when together with Jews throughout the world, we examine the year past and envision the year ahead.  For me – and for us -- this provides an opportunity to reflect on our privilege, while reaffirming our Jewish tradition’s longstanding commitment to tikkun olam – healing the world.

I will continue to redouble my efforts in the hospitals, health centers, neighborhoods and schools where my team and I work.  And I hope that you, too, will make your own commitment to health and healing personally, for your family, our congregation, and the broader community in which we live.  If we move forward with passion and compassion, courage, integrity and excellence – then I believe that we can face confrontation with strength, we can stand up to injustice (don’t be a bystander, be an “upstander”), we can learn from our history and leave a legacy for our children, we can be generous in our tithing –  and we can indeed begin to heal the world.

Parashat Pinchas: Two Steps Forward, One Step Back - Delivered on Friday night June 28, 2013

This week my cousin Erica, who has kids around the same age as ours, shared a great story on Facebook about her older daughter Anna. A couple weeks ago, eight-year-old Anna was getting organized for Day Camp at their JCC in Newton. She learned that all of the different camp units or age-groups were named after the different tribes of Israelites- names like Judah and Simeon, Levi and Benjamin. Being the feminist 8-year-old that she is, she was troubled. All of the camp units, were named after male heads of tribes. There wasn’t a single female Israelite name in the bunch!

So, she wrote the camp a letter! In the letter she described what she noticed, and expressed to the camp director that she thought it was unfair that there were no women represented. The camp director wrote back saying that she had a good point, and that this year it was too late to make any changes. But next year if they end up adding a unit, they would consider a female name. Not exactly the answer she was hoping for. But a pretty good step forward.

This week on the first day of camp, when my cousin dropped her daughter off, they were surprised to see that Anna had truly made a difference. In fact, this year, the camp did add a new unit. And they named it “Leah.” And, as they perused the camp bulletin board, there was Anna’s letter, publicly displayed for all to see.

Such an inspiring story! And a wonderful example of standing up for equality. It also shows what it is like to advocate for what you believe in and to try to move the world closer to justice. So often,  the experience is that of: “two steps forward, one step back.” Or it is that of slowly turning a very, very large ship around. Anna’s camp didn’t respond immediately to her request, and they didn’t respond fully. The fairer way would be to rename all of the units, half male names and half female. Or to use non-gender specific names. She made progress, but there is still lots more to do.

In our Torah portion this week, we also have an example of women standing up for themselves and publicly bringing a complaint to the leadership. Moses has just completed a census of the Israelites and has told them how the land of Israel will be divided among them, based on their tribes and the ancestral clans within each tribe. In those ancient times, any land that was assigned to a clan would pass down from father to son.

After Moses has announced how the land will be divided, five women approach him in front of all of the people who are gathered. Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah and Tirzah are sisters and are the only children of a man named Zelophechad, who is the head of a clan in the tribe of Mannasseh. Zelophechad had died, and his five daughters come to Moses and demand that they be allowed to inherit the land assigned to their father. Moses brings their plea to God, and God replies that “the plea of Zelophechad’s daughters is just; you should give them a hereditary holding among their father’s kinsmen; transfer their father’s share to them.”  God goes even further to legislate this in all similar cases –that if there are no sons, then the daughters should be next in line to inherit their family’s land.

This story beautifully illustrates what it means to speak truth to power and advocate for justice. The Torah’s solution may not quite line up with today’s sensibilities that men and women should inherit equally. But for its time, it is quite revolutionary.

Sadly, this revolutionary law gets rolled back only chapters later. The male heads of the daughters’ clan appeal the ruling. They are afraid that daughters will marry men outside the clan, and then the land would leave the clan with them. And so, God narrows the law saying that that in order for the women to inherit, they are required to marry men only within their clan so that the land will stay in its tribe.

Two steps forward, one step back. Making a difference and losing ground. There is still so much work to do!

In our own country this week, we saw this same dynamic at work at the Supreme Court. I have felt quite conflicted this week, as I imagine many of us did. I’ve been bouncing from the joy of the Defense Of Marriage Act and Prop 8 being defeated, bringing our country one giant step closer to marriage equality for gays and lesbians on the one hand,  to the worry about central provisions of the Voting Rights Act being overturned and the real possibility that states will pass laws that are meant to suppress the votes of minorities, on the other hand.

This week was one to celebrate the expansion of civil rights of gays and lesbians, with the Supreme Court’s overturning of the Defense of Marriage Act, which blocked the federal government from recognizing same-sex marriage. Now gays and lesbians who have been legally married in a state that allows gay marriage are not blocked from being recognized by the federal government as legally married. It is still up to states whether to allow and recognize same-sex marriage, and there are many details to be worked out related to federal recognition of these unions. The Supreme Court also refused to hear a lawsuit regarding same-sex marriage in California, allowing to stand the ruling of a lower court which upholds the rights of gays and lesbians to  marry in that state.

As Jews, we recognize that all human beings are created in the Divine Image, and full marriage equality is one very important expression of that value. There is still a lot to do to bring about full marriage equality in this country, but these are huge steps forward.

In the same week, the Supreme Court overturned a major provision of the Voting Rights Act of 1965 that requires jurisdictions with a history of blocking voting of minorities to get approval before making changes to their voting policies. The decision is probably fair in theory, given that much has changed since 1965, and the list of jurisdictions under this provision is likely no longer up to date. Some may need oversight – others may not – and still others that aren’t on the list should have oversight. However, this decision presents an enormous challenge to the critical project of enfranchising all Americans regardless of race. It opens the door to states instituting new laws whose intent is to suppress the voting of minorities, and some states are already walking through that door.

As with the case of the daughters of Zelophechad, the Voting Rights Act was a huge victory after a difficult struggle. And now the justice and equality that was won all those years ago is again in danger.

My friend, a Modern Orthodox rabbi named Avi Orlow, shared a drash this week about these rulings, looking at the events through the lens of a saying from the Mishnah. The Mishnah in Pirke Avot says, “Al tifrosh min ha-tzibur” “Do not separate yourself from the community.” He reads it in two ways. The first reading take the saying at face value. “Participate in the community – engage with it – do not abandon your people or separate from them!” His second reading interprets the word, “yourself,” in a more intensive way. This interpretation is – don’t divide yourself into separate pieces within yourself.

Rabbi Orlow and I both hope that the Supreme Court’s rulings around gay marriage will go a long way to help gay individuals feel more whole within themselves –that especially gay youth will feel safe being themselves in all of their fullness when they participate in community and will not need to fragment and hide important parts of themselves. He makes the point that this ruling helps to bring our country closer to a more perfect union –a more perfect community. However, he says that this ruling and I would the one overturning the Voting Rights Act as well, leave us with some big questions that I will leave us all with tonight:

Now that these decisions have been handed down, how will we follow the Mishnah’s instructions? How will we be sure not to separate ourselves from the community? How will we engage with the community, come close to the seats of power and make our demands known? How will we be a part of taking our community, our country forward toward that more perfect union– step by step by step?

Parashat B'ha-alot'cha 2013 - Love at the Heart of Human Rights

On Wednesday night I had the pleasure of being a part of an event benefiting T’ruah: the Rabbinic Call for Human Rights, and organization whose Board I have been co-chairing for the past two years. We work on human rights issues in North America including the issue of human trafficking and modern day slavery in our agricultural sector; the issues of torture and indefinite detention as a result of the War on Terror; and combating Islamophobia. And issues in Israel and the such as the status of African refugees seeking asylum in Israel from persecution in their home countries, Palestinian farmers in the West Bank seeking access to their olive groves, and Bedouins in the Negev who are struggling to continue to live on their ancestral land.

We were in a  fun downtown location for this event, and the emcee for the evening was actress Cynthia Nixon, whom some of you may remember as Miranda from the TV series Sex in the City. It was exciting to meet a celebrity and to mingle with other social justice and human rights minded Jews, many rabbis among them. But what stayed with me was the panel of folks we honored as human rights heroes.

Every year we honor two rabbis who are nominated by their communities as human rights heroes.  We also honor an individual with the Raphael Lemkin Award for Human Rights. Raphael Lemkin was a Jewish lawyer of Polish descent who escaped the Holocaust and made a life in the United States. He coined the term genocide and campaigned for the passage of international laws against the crime of genocide.

I want to share with you a bit about our honorees and what they said, because I found them all inspiring and energizing as someone who cares about putting Jewish values into action. I hope that what they shared will inspire you as well.

Our Raphael Lemkin Award this year went to an attorney, Thomas Wilner, who leads the international trade litigation and government relations practice of Shearman & Sterling LLP. He was involved in multiple Supreme Court cases related to the treatment of detainees at Guantanano, going back to 2004. These cases established and held that the Guantanamo detainees have a Constitutional right to habeas corpus as well as the right to unmonitored access to counsel.

When Thomas Wilner was asked why he says “yes” to this kind of work – he talked about the importance of universal ideas, principles and values. Back in the 1880’s, his great grandfather, a Jew living in Eastern Europe, somehow acquired a copy of the Declaration of Independence of the United States and of President Lincoln’s Gettysburg address. The values of equality and justice in these documents inspired him to do all that he could to move to America and make a life here for his family. He did make it to America, and a tradition of reading the Declaration of Independence and the Gettysburg address was passed down the generations to Thomas Wilner himself. While his parents didn’t raise him as an observant Jew, they also instilled in him the belief that to be Jewish is to pursue truth and justice. It is this combination of Jewish and American values that inspires his work. He spoke passionately about how it is ultimately a threat to our nation if we allow ourselves, in the name of national security, to compromise those principles upon which our country was founded.

One of our human rights heroes was Rabbi Susan Talve, the spiritual leader of Central Reform Congregation –750 family congregation in St. Louis. Hers is the only synagogue that chose to remain in downtown St. Louis and not move out to the suburbs. Rabbi Talve is involved in numerous social justice causes, among them a recent campaign for fast food workers to be allowed to unionize.

When Rabbi Talve was asked why she says “yes” to being active in her community she talked about identity and history. In the cab on the way to our event, she passed the NYC block where her grandfather had worked as a presser in a garment factory. And she spoke of how, when we witness the struggle of workers today to make a living wage, we can’t forget where we came from. Not long ago, we American Jews were struggling for the same things. This is a part of our identity, and it should move us to stand with today’s laborers who simply want to support their families and have access to things like affordable health care.

The final human rights hero was the one that moved me the most. His name is Rabbi Everett Gendler, and he is a retired pulpit rabbi who served congregations from Mexico City to Havana Cuba to Lowell Massachusetts in a pulpit career which began with his ordination in 1957!  From 1962 until 1968, he was active with Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. in the civil right movement, and has been involved on behalf of nonviolence, human rights, and the environment. I learned from a colleague that back in the 1970’s he had one of the first congregations to be powered by solar energy, including a solar powered eternal light!!

Since retirement from regular commitments in 1995, he, with his wife, Mary, have traveled almost every year to India to help the Tibetan exile community develop an educational program on strategic nonviolent struggle, with the sanction of the Dalai Lama and coordinated by the Tibetan Government in Exile.

When Rabbi Gendler was asked what has motivated him to say yes to doing this work, he got very quiet and still. And he said, “love.” He said that when an issue of justice or human rights has arisen and he has felt a pull to get involved, he has always known that it was the right thing to do if he could sense that at the center of the work was love. Love for humanity and love, even for the people on the other side of the issue – the people you might imagine to be your enemy.

He said he was drawn to Dr. King because of the love he felt coming from him, and he knew it was right to get involved because Dr. King didn’t carry any hatred or ill will for those who he was struggling against – or as he said – for the “other.” Only love.

Similarly with the Dalai Lama – Gendler said yes to the Dalai Lama because of the love that he radiated and that it was clear that the Dalai Lama didn’t harbor any hatred towards the Chinese. This love which even includes the “other”  is what has assured Rabbi Gendler that he is saying “yes” to a project that is making manifest the truth that we are all created in the Divine Image.

In this week’s Torah portion, Miriam and Aaron speak out against their brother Moses, slandering him for having married a Cushite woman –a woman with black skin. Miriam and Aaron then go on to question Moses’ legitimacy as a leader and a prophet. Hearing this, God punishes Miriam by striking her with a white scaly skin disease all over her body. Seeing her so horribly disfigured and suffering, Moses cries out to God, “El na, r’fa na lah.” “Oh God, please heal her!”

Only moments before, Miriam was leading a rebellion against Moses and was speaking in racist and slanderous language about Moses’ wife.  And still, Moses acts out of love for his sister. His heart is moved when he witnesses her suffering, and he pleads with God to heal her.

What Martin Luther King and the Dalai Lama and Rabbi Gendler all teach us, is that in our struggles to make the world better, the most powerful tool of persuasion is love. The only way to heal the brokenness is through love – for the oppressor as well as the oppressed

There are many reasons and motivations for pursuing justice and goodness in the world as Jews and as Americans. We have our values and principles that we treasure and which hold up our society. We have our history and identity – we know the heart of the stranger, because we were those strangers and we remember.

But the most powerful motivator that underlies it all is love. Love for our country and what it stands for, love for and identification with our people and our people’s struggle, and love for all humanity out of the knowledge that we are all in the image of God. When we are able to act on this love, we are praying as Moses did, “Oh God, please heal her.” When we act on this love, we are making real in our earthly realm the longing that God has for our world, and all who dwell here, to be whole. 

Emor 2013 A response to the tragedies in Boston and West, TX: The fine line between sanctity and desecration, blessing and curse

Emor 2013 – The fine line between sanctity and desecration, blessing and curse

Rabbi Rachel Goldenberg

“livracha v’lo liklalah, l’sova, v’lo l’razon, l’chayyim v’lo l’mavet…

 for blessing, and not for curse; for sustenance, and not for destruction;

for life, and not for death.”

My family and I were in Boston to see the Marathon two weeks ago. We were in Newton, with my cousins, many miles from the finish line, and we only went for a couple of hours in the late morning. We brought a picnic and sat in the sun on the green grass, and it was beautiful. I found myself moved by the grace and the strength of the bodies of these runners. What an amazing thing to be right there, watching the best male and female marathon runners in the world glide by as if 26 miles was nothing to them. And then to see the packs of more “normal” people, but serious runners nonetheless, displaying enormous endurance, resilience and strength.

And then there were the costumes! Apparently runners who are raising money for charity will sometimes garner support by pledging to wear something outrageous if they raise a certain amount of money. So there were men and women (but mostly men) running in tutus, swan outfits, fairy wings, and superhero capes. We even spotted a hot dog costume! It was such a joyous celebration of life and vitality, of the capacity and the beauty of the human body.

We went back to my cousin’s house, energized and inspired what we had witnessed.  And then, several hours later, came the news of the bombings at the finish line. In that moment we saw so clearly how the human experience is one of standing on that terribly thin line between celebrating life and experiencing death and destruction.

Our Torah portion this week stands on that same that same line.

This week we read instructions regarding the sacred offerings the people bring to God through the priests at the Tabernacle. The people are instructed to be extra careful when they bring an offering to sacrifice to God that they may not make an offering of an animal that has a blemish, is flawed or has been maimed.  To do so would be an act of desecration – not of holiness.

Upon first hearing this law, we might find it problematic in its suggestion that God only accepts perfection. But that isn’t my sermon tonight.

This week I read this text differently. The message this week, I think, is to recognize that there is such a thing as a flawed and unacceptable offering to God. In those terrible bombings at the marathon, we saw how an offering or an action can be easily twisted from serving God and serving life to serving the opposite – serving death. These two young men, and unfortunately, many religious extremists across the globe, have been led to believe that killing innocent people and terrorizing entire communities and nations is a holy act – an offering to God.

What then, as a religious leader, can I say about what it means to be a person who participates in religious acts, a person who strives to live a spiritual or a religious life? To be a religious person is to participate in the sacred – it means striving to align our actions with what we believe serves God and serves a greater purpose. And it also means that we walk a thin line. Our Torah portion highlights how easily service to God can be distorted into service of something that is not holy.

The Torah instructs the priests to be scrupulous in making sure that everything offered on the altar is without blemish or defect – that it is offered with the correct intention - to serve God and life.

Then, later in the Torah portion, we read a story about a fight between two men in which one man commits blasphemy by pronouncing God’s ineffable name out loud as a curse. The blasphemer is ultimately stoned to death as punishment. God has revealed God’s very self to the people of Israel by making known God’s very intimate, personal name, YHVH. But there are boundaries around how we may use this name. If the name is not used intentionally, as a way to draw close to God and serve God, then the name loses its sanctity and God is diminished and distorted.

As I studied the parasha this week I was surprised by this notion - that God needs US to be careful about how we use God’s name and how we approach God. In a sense, just as God has made us fragile beings who walk a thin line between life and death, so too, God has made God’s self vulnerable by giving us ways to come close, and by revealing God’s name. Because a spiritual connection to something beyond us is available to us, that connection is inherently exposed to distortion and misuse, sometimes with tragic results.

“livracha v’lo liklalah, l’sova, v’lo l’razon, l’chayyim v’lo l’mavet…

for blessing, and not for curse

As people on a journey towards a spiritual life, this parasha calls us to ask ourselves -  Have I dedicated myself and my actions to something beyond myself?  Are my offerings to the world and to others offerings of life and of beauty – offerings with a greater purpose?

Of course, we know, and we have seen so clearly these past couple of weeks, that even if we do dedicate ourselves to life and to beauty and purpose, we are still vulnerable to destruction. Therefore, we are so much the more so required to celebrate the life we’ve got. In fact, in our Torah portion alongside all of this worry about the sacrifices, and the stoning to death of a blasphemer, we also have the commandments to celebrate the festivals of Sukkot, Pesach and Shavuot – these holidays which are meant to be seasons of outpouring of joy. And so, given this fine line we walk, we celebrate and give thanks as much as we possibly can, as we walk.

Two days later after the bombings at the Boston marathon, we learned of the explosion in the fertilizer plant in the town of West, Texas.

It’s not like I’ve spent a lot of time there. But any Reform rabbi who has worked in Dallas, Texas knows the town of West, because it is the only decent rest stop between Dallas and Greene Family Camp, the Reform Movement summer camp in Bruceville, TX. When I lived in Dallas, I stopped in West several times a year, on my way to and from camp or a retreat. We would stop at the Czech Stop to get warm kolaches – these delicious Czech pastries filled with jelly and sweet cheese.

Boston. . . West, TX . . . Two very different tragedies. One perpetrated by people whose intent was to kill. The other, a terrible accident, the cause of which remains to be seen.  But both, experiences of terrible pain and loss and grief – both, reminders to give thanks and celebrate life in the moment, because that is all we’ve got.

That day of the plant explosion, my Texas colleagues and I traded warm kolache memories on facebook, trying to hold on to the good stuff. And when I think back on that day in Boston, I try to hold on to the memories of joy, strength, endurance, the grace of those amazing runners, the tutus.

“livracha v’lo liklalah, l’sova, v’lo l’razon, l’chayyim v’lo l’mavet…

We pray these words every year as we make the transition from the winter rainy season to the summer dry season in the Land of Israel. We recognize that our very existence is dependent on that which is out of our control – how much or how little rain falls during the year to sustain us. And so we pray, given the fragility of life, that our efforts, our work, our  time on earth should be for blessing and not for curse; for sustenance, and not for destruction; for life, and not for death.

Torah discussion materials for home-based Shabbat dinners, January 11th, 2013

Discussing the Torah portion is a traditional activity to do around the Shabbat table. This should be a fun and meaningful aspect of the evening, and you don’t have to prepare much at all. It can be as long or as short as you make it. See instructions below, and then a summary of this week's Torah portion, a focus for study, and suggested discussion questions. Shabbat Shalom!

Instructions

The idea is for you or someone around your table to facilitate a discussion on this week’s Torah portion, using this guide. It would probably be a good exercise for between dinner and dessert. I’ve created these materials so that they should work for all ages. So if you have kids at your dinner, feel free to include them in the discussion.

You don’t need to do any preparation in advance besides printing out the materials and reading them through once if you have time. I suggest printing out several copies of the materials below so that everyone can have or share one.

Go around the table and have each person read a paragraph out loud of the background summary and the Focus. It should be relaxed and informal, so questions and comments along the way are great!

Use the questions at the bottom to spark a discussion, or just stick with the questions and comments that come naturally from the group.

Parashat Va-era: Exodus 6:2-9:35

SUMMARY:

In this week’s Torah portion, Moses, as God’s messenger, is in the midst of a monumental struggle with Pharaoh. God has sent Moses to tell Pharaoh to free the Israelite people from slavery, and Pharaoh refuses to let them go. Not only does Pharaoh refuse, but he makes the Israelites’ work harsher and more bitter, forcing them to go foraging for the straw to make their bricks, but forcing them to make the same number of bricks each day.

The Israelite people complain to Moses that ever since he confronted Pharaoh, their lives have only gotten worse. Moses is frustrated at Pharaoh’s stubbornness and at the fact that the people do not have faith in him or in God. God tells Moses to reassure the people that God will free them. Then God sends wave after wave of plagues upon Egypt. This parasha includes the plagues of blood, frogs, lice, wild animals, cattle disease, boils and hail.

FOCUS:

At the end of last week’s Torah portion, Moses is so frustrated that he asks God, “O Lord, why did You bring harm upon this people? Why did You send me? Ever since I came to Pharaoh to speak in your name, he has dealt worse with this people; and still You have not delivered Your people.”

God responds by telling Moses to relay the following message from God to Israelites: “I am the LORD. I will free you from the labors of the Egyptians and deliver you from their bondage. I will redeem you with an outstretched arm and through extraordinary chastisements. And I will take you to be My people, and I will be your God. . . .I will bring you into the land which I swore to give to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and I will give it to you for a possession, I the LORD.”

But, the Torah tells us, “when Moses told this to the Israelites, they would not listen to Moses, their spirits crushed by cruel bondage.”

QUESTIONS TO EXPLORE

What do you think it means to have your “spirits crushed by cruel bondage”?

In the Hebrew, the phrase translated here as “spirits crushed” is “kotzer ruach,” or “shortness of spirit/breath.” What do you think it means to have “shortness of spirit” or “shortness of breath”?

Why do you think it is so hard for the Israelites to believe that God and Moses are going to free them? What is it about slavery that makes this so difficult for them to believe? Why don’t they just jump at the chance?

How do you think Moses or God might be able to give the Israelites some hope that they really might get free?

Where does hope come from?

Have you ever had an experience of being “kotzer ruach”, or can you think of people in today’s world who might be experiencing that?

How do we find hope when we face challenges and obstacles?