Heshvan: The New Elul?

It is October.  The contemplation and reawakening of the month of Elul is over, the introspection and self-assessment of the Ten Days of Repentance have passed, and God’s Sefer Chayim, the Book of Life, has been sealed for another year. We have dwelt in booths and waved our lulav and etrog, and we have rejoiced and danced with our beloved Torah on Simchat Torah. The leftover brisket has been put away, the sukkah has been taken down, and the children are settled back into their school routines. Now what?

Now we have arrived once again at the very beginning of the Torah: Bereisheet barah Elohim et ha-shamayim v’et ha-aretz... The Earth is brand new again. The heavenly waters and the earthly waters are once again primal and pure.  The ground is lush, fertile, and green.  Creatures of infinite variety inhabit the land, the sea, and the sky. How new and wondrous it all is! Then man and woman are born, shaped by God’s own hands into two separate beings, each different from the other, yet created in the image of God.  The air that fills their lungs is God’s own divine breath.

And we, too, have been reborn.  Do you still remember?  Is the shofar still echoing in your ears – its shrill call shuddering through your entire being?  Did you make things right with yourself, with your family, with your friends and coworkers, and with God? Do you recall beating your chest with angst as you confessed your sins before God? 

Now that all the holy days are over...now that the rush of back-to-school is over...now that all the apples and honey and challah have been eaten, all the white tablecloths have been put away, and you’ve made up the time you missed from work, you can take the time to remember.  You see, the Hebrew calendar gives us a wonderful gift this time of year.  It is the Hebrew month of Heshvan, which will begin at sundown on October 7 this year.  Heshvan is often called “Mar Heshvan” (Bitter Heshvan) because in this month there are NO holy days.  I see this lull in observance and celebration, not as a time of despondence, but as an opportunity to take the time to really reflect upon the High Holy Days that have just ended.

We have all been given the gift of a new beginning, a new soul.  We can now contemplate all the promises we made and all the woulda’s, coulda’s, and shoulda’s that we regret from last year and put them behind us. They are gone. We are new, just as the Torah is new and the world is new.  We are created in the image of God just as the first man and the first woman.  We have a brand new slate with its own clean, white piece of chalk.  What shall we write on our slates?  Now we have the time to really think about it. Will we fill our slate with words and deeds that we can be proud to bring before God next year or will we fill it with things that we will want to erase later? 

Why not put your thoughts into a Heshvan journal and revisit it at the High Holy Days next year?

May we all embrace and enjoy this time of new beginnings!! 

Pursuing Justice

In this week's Torah portion,
Moses continues to give the Israelites God's instructions for their settlement of the Promised Land. The name of this parashah, Shoftim, meaning "judges," comes from the portion's opening verse, Deuteronomy 16:18: "Judges and officials you shall provide for yourselves, within all your gates that יהוה your God is giving you, for your tribal-districts. They are to judge the people (with) equitable justice." All are commanded to be impartial when judging others, to listen well in regards to a dispute, and to act only upon the word of several witnesses. We are to not "specially recognize any one person's face," hence the depiction of justice as a woman blindfolded, holding scales that are perfectly balanced.

"Justice, justice you shall pursue...," God commands us. To me this is only a more emphatic way of saying, "Treat others as you wish to be treated." I have found myself feeling of late that these words to much of our American citizenry are entirely irrelevant. I am dismayed at the avarice, backstabbing, cheating, buy-my-way-out, step-on-anyone-I-can-to-make-it mentality that I feel is consuming our nation. The "certain unalienable rights" as envisioned by Thomas Jefferson have become entitlements. We will have "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness" no matter what it takes or whom we may hurt in the process. I will never forget the tearful lament of Linda Lay, wife of Enron chief Kenneth Lay, that they were being forced to sell some of their 15 homes. How many homes are enough? There are folks right here under our noses with not even one home. They sleep in cardboard boxes. There are thousands upon thousands of Americans who may have a home, but they scrape by month after month in order to keep it. Their benefits are continuously cut, their work hours are reduced, or they are losing their jobs altogether. Why is it often the poor or lower middle class workers who must sacrifice for the welfare of a company? Are these cuts in jobs and benefits made to save the company or to preserve the lifestyles of those at the top?

In July, a cantorial colleague, Michael Davis, made me aware of the practice being implemented by the Hyatt hotel chain of firing their current employees and replacing them with temp workers who receive lower pay and no benefits. The hotel is also proposing recession contracts that allow for little to no health benefits and keep employee wages flat. As these changes occur, the chief stockholders of the hotel continue to amass millions and millions of dollars. As a result of these policies, hotel workers are being forced to work longer hours for less pay, which has caused injury and illness rates to soar. I was appalled, so I resolved to join Cantor Davis in the pursuit of justice for these workers.

On July 22, I traveled into the city of Chicago to join hundreds and hundreds of protesters, workers and other clergy in front of Hyatt's corporate center. I was inspired by the passion I heard as I met and spoke with various protesters, young and old.



I became friends instantly with Beth Galbreath, an ordained Methodist deacon who not only serves as a chaplain at a women's correctional facility, but is also an expert in Biblical storytelling.

More and more folks gathered, collecting signs to carry and staking out their positions on the curb. The heavy, wet air became punctuated with the lifting of signs and the chants of "Justice now!" In an attempt to dampen our efforts, the Hyatt posted banners declaring their loyalty to all employees and sent out a worker to continuously run a leaf blower.


After about an hour and a half, some 200 workers and clergy marched onto the street single file chanting, "We are human beings! Enough is enough!" We supporters lined both sides of Wacker Drive in front of the hotel and cheered them on. The group, including my colleague Cantor Michael Davis and Rabbi Brant Rosen of whose blog I am a fan, then sat down in rows, arms linked in solidarity, right in the street..

I felt great pride well up inside me as I saw the two of them and other Jewish protesters wearing their kipot (headcoverings) and talitot (prayer shawls) as they marched in. I thought about how Jews have always tried to lift up the fallen and stand up for what is right, such as Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel who marched with Dr. Martin Luther King, and Louis Brandeis who labored tirelessly for the rights of the poor and working class. It felt good to walk in their footsteps. In performing this act, literally standing up for what I believe to be a righteous cause, I feel that I truly followed God's mitzvah, the commandment to pursue justice. I hope you'll join me as we continue the pursuit together!

Window Seat Wonders or God as Design Star

I have always loved nature. I find everything about it miraculous, mysterious, holy, and beautiful. Animals, rocks, leaves, snowflakes, flowers, mountains, the ocean --- all hold my eye and my mind captive! I could watch a tiny ant struggle to carry a crumb twice its size indefinitely, pick up little pebbles in a stream for hours, and watch clouds drift by until dark. I marvel at the craftsmanship of a bird's nest and the perfect hexagons of honeycombs. How do deciduous trees know that the time has come for their sap to retreat into their roots, and why is the death of their leaves so exquisitely beautiful? How can it be possible for every single snowflake to be different? My family will often get annoyed with me during walks or on a drive because I stop to look at the most insignificant objects (at least to them) and make frequent remarks about the scenery. "Oh, look at the cows on that hill." "Isn't this little pine cone so cute?" "Oh, wait, I want to take a picture of this pretty leaf." "Wouldn't Aunt Jackie have loved to see all those wildflowers?"

Last weekend my family and I attended our third family wedding of the summer --- this one in Rock Hill, South Carolina. Our return flight from Charlotte to Chicago departed right on time at 8:15 p.m., just as the sun was beginning to set. All three of us were together in row 22 on the left side of the plane, but I was the fortunate one to be sitting in the window seat. Because we were traveling northward, the view of the sunset stayed with us until we neared Chicago. Now I LOVE the window seat. Most folks request the aisle, but I enjoy looking out the window and watching the tapestry below unroll before me.

When it was safe to use approved portable electronic devices, our plane had risen above a thick white blanket of clouds; and the sunset in all its brilliant colors was in full view. There were also huge pillars of darker clouds --- most likely the "weather" that the pilot mentioned we would be going around. After my gasp of pure amazement, a few exclamations of "Oh, my goodness!" "Look, y'all!" and "Oh, cool!" I had the wherewithal to reach for my phone. This sight was too amazing, and I desperately wanted to record it so that I could see it again. I would take a few pictures, making sure to aim at an angle to avoid the glare off the window.
Just when I thought I would go ahead and put away the phone, the sky would morph into even more fantastic shapes and colors. Lightning flashed and danced within the huge bastion of clouds, while the sunset continued its show. The moon was even shining.

The display was like nothing I'd ever beheld. I found myself almost in tears at the wonder of it, and words of prayer and psalms flowed in and out of my consciousness. "Ha-shamayim m'saprim k'vod El, uma'aseh yadav magid ha-raki'a." The heavens declare God's glory, and the sky tells of God's works. " "Adonai, Adoneinu, ma adir shimcha b'chol ha-aretz, asher t'nah hod'cha al ha-shamayim." O God, our Lord, how majestic is Your name in all the earth, You who have covered the heavens with Your splendor!" "Modah ani l'fanecha..." I am thankful before You, O God."
I wanted to declare to my fellow passengers, "Is God awesome, or what??!!" No human being, though created with God's breath of life and possessing a tiny spark of the divine intellect, could ever create with such color, creativity and majesty. Certainly no random mix of cosmic dust, matter, atoms, or elements could, either. "When I consider Your heavens, the work of Your fingers, the moon and stars that You set in place, what are we that You are mindful of us, what are mortals that You have taken note of us, for You have made us little less than divine, and adorned us with glory and majesty...O God, our Lord, how majestic is Your name in all the earth!"

Learning to Blog and Blogging to Learn

After laboring for what seems like forever, I finally have http'ed and url'ed, uploaded and coded my way into the world of blogging. I devoted much time to creating a blog that will not only allow me to express myself through the written word, but will also allow me to create something that speaks for me visually as well. This is the tough part. I have a picture in my mind of what I would like, but I am still struggling with the technique for achieving it; for this is the area in which one requires at least a bit of understanding of techno-speak. The problem with seeking instruction in this area is that those folks who are writing the "easy steps" or "for dummies" directions in how to apply a template or change the background, etc. have difficulty writing the information in such a way that those of us who came to adulthood with only the knowledge of a typewriter and white-out can comprehend. Performing these steps comes so easy to them, that they cannot relate to those of us who need everything spelled out in "substeps." "Just click on 'link' and you're done!" doesn't work for me. Looking at all that code jargon is like looking at gobbledy-gook. At times my brain would just spin in circles, and the frustration of not understanding what to do almost made me give up.

This experience has led me to think more critically about my teaching of Hebrew and Torah / Haftarah chanting to b'nei mitzvah students and adults. I do always try to put myself in the student's chair and to teach with their vantage point and background in mind, but am I teaching at a level that is congruent with my students' abilities? To them, trope marks (and often Hebrew) can be as confusing and frustrating as those computer codes are to me. To be able to show my students how to see past the gobbledy-gook and give them the keys and "cheats" to the code that is Torah and Haftarah chanting, Hebrew, prayer, and Judaic knowledge is an honor and a joy for me. I want to make sure that I continue to make the journey to find the key rewarding, meaningful, logical and fun, and that the key will turn easily in the lock when we get there.

Walkin' in Memphis

When I wrote this reflection, I was in the land of the Delta Blues: Memphis, Tennessee – the setting for this year’s convention of the American Conference of Cantors. Memphis is the birthplace of Rock and Roll, home of the Blues and of Elvis; but as I learned during my brief sojourn here, it is also a model of community, generosity, and solidarity.


Our time in Memphis began with Rick Recht’s “Tear Down the Walls” concert, featuring the inspiring voices of cantors and gospel singers, and supported by a choir members from Memphis synagogues and churches. During the concert, area ministers, teens, and Rabbi Micah Greenstein of Temple Israel shared not only their visions of a Memphis free of poverty, hopelessness, and racial prejudice, but also passionately described how clergy of all faiths are laboring together with the community to bring this dream to fruition. Having been part of several interfaith musical events, I have always wondered just how much change is really put into motion by these moments of our coming together. In Memphis, it is clear that the clergy not only talk the talk, but walk the walk – hand in hand.



The next day of our convention was devoted to witnessing this holy work. We boarded buses first to the National Civil Rights Museum. As our bus pulled up along the side of the museum, I immediately realized that I was gazing upon that metal railing so familiar from photos and television images. We were disembarking at the Lorraine Motel, the site of Dr. King’s assassination, into which the museum has been incorporated. I felt as though I’d been punched in the stomach, and for a few moments I could neither breathe, nor speak.

We began with an address by Rabbi Micah Greenstein who sits on the board of the museum, leads tours, and serves as a fount of information about the history of the relationship shared by the Jewish and African American communities. Touring the museum we wove our way through a timeline of images from the early days of slave trade through decade after decade of struggle. The most heartrending part of the tour came at the end when we arrived at the actual rooms where Martin Luther King and his friend and colleague, Rev. Ralph David Abernathy, were staying that fateful day – Rooms 306 and 307. Just the night before, King had delivered his “I’ve been to the Mountaintop” speech, which he closed with these words: “...I would like to live a long life...But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land! And so I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord!” The words were still sounding in my ears when I realized I had just heard them that morning from the Torah reading from Parashat Pinchas: “The Lord said to Moses, ‘Ascend these heights of Abarim and view the land that I have given to the Israelite people. When you have seen it, you, too, shall be gathered to your kin, just as your brother Aaron was.” Like Moses, Dr. King did not live to see the work forged by those passionate men and women who came after him, but how fortunate and blessed I feel to have been able to witness it first hand. For more information on the National Civil Rights Museum, go to http://www.civilrightsmuseum.org.