Tetzaveh and Interrupting


         Is it kosher to interrupt someone?  According to an article by Kira Bindrim, “There are times when it’s okay to interrupt someone.  If they have food on their face?  If their dress is tucked into their tights.  If a tsunami is coming up behind them.  And there are times when it really isn’t okay, like during a business meeting, or when conversing with a colleague.  I know,” she concludes, “because I’ve learned about those ‘not okay’ cases the hard way.”[1]

         I can relate.  Growing up in Brooklyn, NY, interrupting was the only way to get a word in edgewise.  I thought that this was natural and normal.  Boy was I in for a rude surprise when I moved to Arizona.  People thought that I was rude!  Imagine that!  Somehow they didn’t understand my ebullient and enthusiastic conversational style as my way of demonstrating engagement in the conversation.  They just thought I wasn’t listening and wasn’t respectful, and they certainly didn’t appreciate the interruption.  People thought I was rude!

         So which is it?  Is interrupting a sign of a conversational boor, or and excited participant?  Turns out that the answer is not so simple.  Recent headlines suggest that what linguist Deborah Tannen calls, “high involvement cooperative overlapping” is actually a characteristic of Jewish conversational style.  It actually is, she says, “a way of showing interest and appreciation.”[2] This pattern of conversation is found, “among many Jews from New York and its environs, especially those of Eastern European origin, (and it) differs in significant ways from that of most non-Jewish Americans from the South, Midwest and West.”[3] 

Other patterns Tannen detects are, “a fast rate of speech, the avoidance of inter-turn pauses and faster turn taking among speakers, [4] “pitch shifts, changes in loudness, exaggerated voice quality, and accent,”[5] as well as a preference for personal topics, unhesitating introduction of new topics and persistence in reintroducing a topic if others don’t immediately pick up on it.[6]

         To those who are not accustomed to, dare I say “our” way of speaking, we come across as rude and disinterested and dominating the conversation.  Among ourselves, we find simultaneous talking unremarkable and a sign of rapport and interest.  The question, Tannen concludes, is, are we “simply speaking at the same time or actually failing to listen. . . (and) stealing the conversation back.”[7]

         In this week’s Torah portion, we read vivid descriptions of the beautiful garments worn by the high priest.  There is a breastpiece adorned with 12 gems, one of each tribe, reminding the priest to keep the people close to his heart.  The priest is anointed on the thumb, the ear, and the big toe- he is to do for the Israelites, he is to be with them, and, most relevant to our discussion, he is to listen to them. 

         The Talmud raises the question- what if the priest’s body was inside the Tabernacle but his head was outside?  May he perform his priestly duties?  The rabbis answer that he may not.  His head needs to be in the game.[8]  If your head is elsewhere, you are not considered to be a full participant.  I believe that what is true for the presiding priest is true for us in conversation.  It is important to be fully present, and we express that attention by listening without interruption.

         A hostage negotiator for the Israel Defense Forces commented that in his line of work “listening can mean life or death.”[9]  The Wall Street journal quotes Glenn Cohen, “In a volatile situation where someone’s life is on the line, there can be no shortcuts.  You must listen. . . “[10]  Fortunately for most of us our conversations are not matters of life and death!

         An article in “Unorthodox” last year concludes that “. . . it’s not quite right to value interrupting as inherently bad.  Context is everything.”[11]  So-called “high intensity” speakers will understand our interrupting as evidence of conversational engagement.

Yet, I personally felt chastened by Elizabeth Gilbert’s comment[12]

“Yes, I like talking, but perhaps I don’t have to curse so much, and perhaps I don’t always have to go for the cheap laugh, and maybe I don’t need to talk about myself quite so constantly.  Or here’s a radical concept- maybe I can stop interrupting others when they are speaking.  Because no matter how creatively I try to look at my habit of interrupting, I can’t find another way to see it than this:  “I believe that what I am saying is more important than what you are saying.”  And I can’t find another way to see that than:  “I believe that I am more important than you.”  And that must end.”

         So, I’m coming down on the anti-interrupting side.  You can take the girl out of NY, but you can’t take the NY out of the girl.  Yet, perhaps, you can convince her to try to interrupt less and listen more.


[1] https://qz.com/951424/how-to-stop-interrupting-people-or learn- to love-it instead/ 

[2] https://www.jweekly.com/2000/05/12/interrupters-linguist-says-it-s-jewish-way

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Qz.com/op. cit

[6] J.weekly, op.cit.

[7] Qz.com, op. cit.

[8] BT Zev. 26a

[9] Cohen, Glenn, quoted in Siegel, Masada, “A Hostage Negotiator’s Lesson in Listening,”  Wall Street Journal, Jan. 2, 2019

[10] ibid.

[11] https://www.tabletmagazine.com/scroll/262943/ask-unorthodox-why-do-jews-interrupt-each-other/

[12] In her book, Eat, Pray, Love, p. 193

Vayechi and the Meaning of Life

We come to the final parsha in the book of Genesis- Vayechi- And he lived, referring to the patriarch Jacob. It is ironic that there are two Torah portions that have the word “chai”- meaning life- in their names.  The other one is Chayai Sarah, The life of Sarah.  Chayai Sarah tells us about Sarah’s death, and the week we read about Jacob’s final days and his death and burial.  So what do we learn from this?

I don’t think that the Torah is suggesting that we be over-occupied with death.   I do think that we need to focus on what is most important in life, what are we living for and how do we hope to be remembered?  What will be our legacy at the end of OUR lives?  Will it be said of us as it was of Jacob, that we truly lived?   That we made each day count?  I sometimes joke that I like to get a day and a half out of each day, and my family knows that I want my headstone to read, “You can’t do it all but you can die trying.”

Not that I am recommending living life in a frenzy of non-stop activity.  I treasure Shabbat as the weekly antidote to a very full schedule.  Shabbat is a vital part of my spiritual practice, a day to restore a sense of balance and focus.  A day to reflect on how we make our lives meaningful.  I believe that the goal of life is to continually elevate our souls and to cultivate the qualities of kindness, generosity, compassion that touch every one of our interactions.  If we can truly see each person we encounter as an image of God, the world will be a better place for our having lived in it.  Rambam suggests that we imagine the world as suspended between good and evil, and we have the ability to shift that balance through the actions we choose.  Some of us may have an impact in our own family and community circles, others may impact major social changes.  It is up to each of us to make meaning wherever we find ourselves, to bloom where we are planted.

Is it curious that in Jewish tradition we remember our deceased loved ones not on their birthdays, but on their yahrtzeits?  The rabbis offer the analogy of a ship leaving on a perilous journey.  Well-wishers stand on the shore to bid farewell.  Yet, the rabbis suggest, it is only when the ship returns safely to the harbor that we should truly rejoice.  Thus it is, they conclude, with our lives.  It is only at the end of our days that we truly know what a person’s life was about, who they were in the essence of their being and how they made a difference. Then we can say, as was said of Jacob, “Vayechi,” “he truly lived.”

 

What is the meaning of life?  The meaning of life is that it ends.   How are we spending the most precious gift of all, the gift of time?  As the book of Genesis draws to a close, as the year 2018 draws to a close, it is worth asking ourselves if we are truly living a life that expresses the values we hold most dear, and, if not, what can we do to make the changes that are in our hearts?

Praying for Rain

Rain is a blessing.  Our tradition suggests that when we give thanks for rain, we appreciate each and every drop as a blessing.  What a beautiful reminder of the importance of appreciating even the littlest things- every blessing, large and small.  What is an underappreciated blessing in your life right now?  Our ancestors lived in the desert, as do we. We deeply understand rejoicing over the rain.  I don’t know about your house, but in my house rain is an event.  If at all possible, everything else comes to a halt so that we can enjoy the rare spectacle of rainfall.  Rain in Arizona is so rare, that my granddaughter Helena was around 2 years old when she became conscious of rain for the first time.  She had no idea what was happening.  I remember her pointing to the sky, inquisitively, “Sprinklers?”

The Talmud teaches us that (Taanit 8b), “The day when rain falls is as great as the day on which heaven and earth were created.” Today is the day when we began to add prayers for rain to our Amidah.  Rain is welcome in Phoenix any time, yet, it also makes sense to not actively pray for it until after Sukkot, thereby enhancing the potential enjoyment of our Sukkah.  But now, the holidays are ending and we invite the rain- mashiv ha-ruach- God makes the wind blow, u’moreed ha-gashem, and brings down the rain.  May it be so.

Sarah Chandler, who is the Director of Earth Based Spiritual Practice at Hazon’s Adamah Farm, finds it curious that we have prayers for rain and not for sunshine. And, that there are no prayers for NO rain.  In fact, she notes, that, “our tradition has a prayer that pre-emptively annuls any prayers against rain. In the Yom Kippur Avodah service, (which most communities no longer include), the following prayer of the high priest is recited: ‘When the world is in need of rain, do not permit the prayers of the travelers with regard to rain to gain entrance before You’.”[1]  My mom is coming to visit tomorrow.  You know that SHE is certainly praying for no rain in Phoenix.

Chandler suggest that, knowing in advance that our prayers for no rain will be ignored, we can let go and find ways to enjoy the rain as a blessing and not a curse. And, of course, the rain is a metaphor for our own lives.  Rabbi Steven Leder puts it this way, “Serving God and humanity guarantees meaning and purpose, not the lack of sorrow.  No matter how good we are, sooner or later rain comes to our sukkah.”[2]

As we join in prayers for rain at this holy season, we pray that the rain that comes to us both physically and spiritually will be, “For blessing and not for curse. Let’s read together Alden Solovy’s beautiful prayer “For Rain.”

 

 

For Rain by Alden Solovy

Source of life and blessings,

The rains come in their season

To feed the land, the crops, the gardens.

The earth abundant, food plentiful, gardens lush.

Sweet, clean water, feeding rivers, filling the sea.

Sometimes too much,

Sometimes too little,

Sometimes not at all.

Fountain of blessing,

Remember us with life,

With beauty,

With prosperity and bounty.

Remember us with the gift of rain,

The gifts of earth and sky,

Blessings upon the land,

Each in its time,

Each in its season,

Each in its proper measure.

[1] Chandler, Sarah, “Shemini Atzeret: Geshem Be’ito,” Good Noticing, Zena Schulman, editor, Institute for Jewish Spirituality, 2014, p. 141

[2] Leder, Rabbi Steven, The Extraordinary Nature of Ordinary Things, NY:  Behrman House, 1999, p. 52

Ten Things I Love About Being Jewish

10 Things I Love About Being Jewish

I decided that I wanted to be a rabbi at the age of 11. How do I know such a specific detail?  Because my dad, alav ha-shalom, thought to himself at that moment- “This is going to be important to remember,” so he made a mental note of the date.  What inspires an 11 year old to think about the rabbinate?  Well, I loved Hebrew School and Jewish study. Camp Ramah was a big influence. I led Junior Congregation and designed creative High Holiday services.  I admired my rabbi’s engagement in social justice issues.  What could be better than a vocation where I could spend my days learning and teaching something about which  I was so passionate.  I charted a course toward rabbinical school and never looked back.

My parents, initially, were not so supportive. With their more adult perspective, they understood the long hours and the synagogue politics that might make the rabbinate a challenging career.  They suggested that perhaps I would make a great librarian or gym teacher? Yet, I persisted, and, they were- and are- ultimately very proud of my career.

As we enter into this High Holiday season, I wanted to share with you the top ten things that I love most about being Jewish. If you look around this room, you’ll see #1- the sense of community.  I have a close friend who has served on many Boards of Directors, of various non-Jewish organizations as well as synagogues.  She marveled at the reserve, the politeness, the professionalism of the non-Jewish boards, compared with the raucous nature of what she experienced in synagogue board rooms.  Her observation was that, when you only see each other once a month, and for a limited term, you treat each other with kid gloves.  When you are as enmeshed as we are, seeing your board colleagues not only at monthly meetings, but at religious school drop off and Shabbat services, at Bnai Mitzvah and shiva minyanim, year after year, you treat each other like family, not like professional colleagues.

The Jewish community is a family- for better or worse.  We may make each other crazy, as family members often do, yet, we are inextricably bound together.  This is not something to take for granted, especially not in the modern world of disconnection.  Jane Howard wrote, “Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family.  Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one.”

I’ll let you in on a secret. When I stand at the ark with our Bnai Mitzvah students and have the opportunity to share just a few moments of private time with our impressionable young people, one of the things that I try to impress on them is this- wherever your journey in life takes you, you will always be able to find a Jewish community with whom you will have things in common and on whom you can rely if you need help.  What an incredible blessing we are to each other.

Secondly, I love the wisdom of our tradition and the values that we emphasize. We really do want to be better people and to make our world a better place, and Judaism offers us practical guidance in how to achieve these goals.  There are volumes of teaching on how to develop our character, how to be kinder and more humble, how to care for the stranger and how to listen more and gossip less.  We remember that every single human being is made in the image of God and must be honored.  Compassion is so fundamental to the Jewish way of life that we are taught to suspect that if someone is not compassionate they are not really Jewish.[1]  I am in awe at the dedication of our Mussar students, who devote themselves to developing their own character, their soul traits.  What an amazing tradition that inspires devotion to critical self-reflection.

Tzedakah, righteous giving, is a mitzvah, an obligation, not something we do if and when it makes us feel good. And, before everything else, Judaism understands the profound importance of justice- THE foundation on which society rises or falls.  I admire, I love, Jewish wisdom and values.

And then there’s number 3, Shabbat, of which Ahad HaAm observed, “More than Israel has kept the Sabbath, the Sabbath has kept Israel.” I adore being a rabbi, yet, I don’t think I could sustain my work without a weekly opportunity to step out of the everyday busi-ness and cultivate a sense of holiness.

My personal Shabbat practice has evolved as I have embraced Reform Judaism. There was a time when I only drove to and from shul, yet now I am okay with driving to go biking or visit with friends and family.  I still avoid commercial situations- you’ll never see me at the supermarket or the mall on Shabbat, though I might occasionally be at the airport, if necessary.  I have been to the mall on Shabbat twice in the past two decades, and the frenzied environment was antithetical to my understanding of Shabbat Shalom.

My favorite thing is to have nothing on the calendar, to pray together with all of you at Temple Chai and to share Shabbat dinner with loved ones.   Shabbat is a reminder of creation- God worked 6 days a week and rested on the 7th.  If even God needed to rest, then how much more so do we!  Creation itself was not complete until not creating was also created.  Take a breath.  Disconnect.  Find a way to remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy- it will change your life.

Community, Jewish values and wisdom, Shabbat, and, fourth, our many beautiful traditions. To quote Tevye the Milkman, “A fiddler on the roof. Sounds crazy, no? But in our little village of Anatevka, you might say every one of us is a fiddler on the roof, trying to scratch out a pleasant, simple tune without breaking his neck. It isn’t easy. You may ask, why do we stay up here if it’s so dangerous? We stay because Anatevka is our home. And how do we keep our balance? That I can tell you in a word – tradition!”

Tevye was an Orthodox Jew, so the tradition told him how to live at every moment. As Reform Jews, we may feel closer to the words of Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan, who taught that, “The tradition has a vote, but not a veto.”  We take Jewish tradition seriously, and, we adapt it so that it continues to be meaningful to us in 2018.  In many ways, this is more challenging than accepting every tradition as sacrosanct.

One tradition that we especially honor at Temple Chai is lashon ha-kodesh, the holiness of the Hebrew language. Through our emphasis on the holy tongue, we stay connected with Jews past and present.  Even if you don’t know what the words mean, we hope that the letters and words bring comfort and joy.  Somehow just looking at Hebrew moves me in a way that English just does not.

Number 5- Jewish lifecycle observances. Brises and baby namings, Bnai Mitzvah, weddings and, yes, even divorces, and the myriad of practices surrounding death and mourning- we Jews are experts at honoring milestones in our lives.  When a child is born, we welcome them into the community and celebrate their Hebrew name.  As that child grows and approaches adolescence, we help both the student and the family to understand that this person is becoming more independent and needs both to take on more responsibilities and enjoy more privileges.

Is there anything more joyous than a Jewish wedding? I can’t tell you how many times the event planner approaches me after a wedding to confess that, even though they may not be Jewish, they wish they could have a Jewish wedding.  From the chuppah, symbolizing the open-ness of the new home, to the 7 blessings, praying for blessing each and every day for the couple, to the breaking of the glass, recognizing that love and harmony are fragile, not to mention the ketubah, expressing the commitment that the couple makes and the yichud, an opportunity for the couple to celebrate their first few moments of marriage alone with each other, the Jewish wedding is brilliant!

And when there is a loss. . . . We strive for burial as soon as possible, to help family and loved ones accept the sad reality. Then, the mourners are not left alone to fend for themselves.  They are embraced by the community through the days of shiva, supported by love and prayer and food.  Through the first thirty days of sheloshim and following the year of mourning, we are encouraged to gently let go and move forward,  to choose life, secure in the knowledge that yizkor and yahrtzeits will provide the structure to always remember those who are gone.  Jewish life cycle observances are the 5th thing that I love about being Jewish.

Sixth- Jewish spirituality and our connection to God through the path of blessings. Jewish life is grounded in a sense of gratitude and appreciation.  We are so blessed, and yet our tendency is to focus on what we don’t have and forget to appreciate all the good.  Judaism encourages us to say 100 blessings a day.  Through the spiritual technology of the brachah, we articulate our thanks for waking up in the morning, for the ability to walk, such as we have, for the food we eat, for the clothing we wear, for the beautiful world in which we live, and even for the healthy functioning of our bodies when we go to the bathroom.

The word “Yehudi”, “Jew,” comes from the Hebrew root meaning- thankful. To be a Jew is to be thankful.  Gratitude is the foundation of happiness and our tradition guides us always in the direction of gratitude.

Number 7- endless opportunities for study and a culture of learning. A friend recently told me of a person who completed a PhD in Jewish studies and reported that they now know everything.  I was dumbstruck!  How could any person who knows anything about Judaism claim that their learning was complete?  “Until when,” asks Maimonides,  “is a person obligated to study Torah?”  “Until the day he dies.”[2]  I love that lifelong learning is a priority Jewish value, and I love that, whatever your area of interest- philosophy or poetry, history or Torah, ethics or architecture, there is enough richness and depth in Jewish learning to occupy a lifetime and then some.

Teaching is one of my favorite parts of being at Temple Chai- Adult Bnai Mitzvah, Torah Study, Mussar, Wise Aging. I once brought a visitor to Temple Chai and upon exiting services her immediate comment to me was, “These people LOVE to learn.”  It’s a Jewish cultural value and a foundation of our Temple Chai community.

Number 7- Ritual. Judaism recognizes that we need ritual in our lives.  We don’t just read, “Write them on the doorposts of your house,” and understand that as a metaphor, we literally write words of Torah on parchment paper and put a mezuzah on the doors of our homes, where they stand as a constant reminder of Jewish values and traditions.  We light Shabbat candles, we shake the lulav and etrog, we taste the matzah and the bitter herbs.  Yes, learning is a vital part of Judaism.  And, through taste and smell, sight and touch and taste, we renew our commitment to the values that are essential to our Jewish lives.  We are not only human beings, we are human doings.  The eighth thing that I love-  Judaism’s recognition that we need concrete reminders of the holy.

Number 9- A tradition of asking questions. The Jewish story begins with Abraham questioning God.  Jacob’s name is changed from Yaakov to Yisrael, one who wrestles with God.  I don’t think that I could be Jewish if I didn’t feel that I had permission, maybe even encouragement, to continually question God’s ways.  The Jewish way is not, (FOLD HANDS IN PRAYER POSITION)- “Thy will be done.”  The Jewish way is (RAISE FIST TOWARDS HEAVEN) to challenge God’s justice and love.  Why does a Jew always answer a question with a question?  Why not?  It is always a joy when you approach me with, “Rabbi, I have a question.”  It’s one of my favorite things about being a rabbi.  Asking questions is the quintessential Jewish way, and the 9th thing I love about being Jewish.

Finally- I love that Judaism is a way of life, encompassing not only what happens in this sanctuary, not only what happens in our classrooms, but how we behave in the world. The Talmud (Shabbat 31a) imagines 4 questions that God will ask us when we are called upon to give an accounting of what we did with our precious lives.  All 4 questions have one thing in common:  they relate to our behavior in the world- were we honest in our business?  Did we support the needs of children in our community?  Did we make time for learning and did we work towards tikkun olam, towards leaving the world a better place than we found it.  That is what God is depicted as caring about most, not whether or not we were Jewish scholars or spent our day in prayer.  Judaism is first and foremost about how we live our lives.

To review and in conclusion, the things that I love about being Jewish are:

  1. Sense of Community
  2. Wisdom and Values
  3. Shabbat
  4. Connection to Tradition/Hebrew
  5. Brilliant Life-Cycle Practices
  6. Closeness to God through Gratitude and Prayer
  7. Life Long Learning
  8. Appreciation of Ritual
  9. Questioning as a Cultural Value
  10. Judaism as a Way of Life
  11. What’s on your list? Shanah Tovah!

 

[1]  “Jews are compassionate, the children of the compassionate.  If a person is not compassionate, they are not of the descendants of our father Abraham.”- Beitzah 32b

[2] Moses Maimonides, Hilchot Talmud Torah, 1:10

Three Little Words- Kol Nidre 5779

 

Those 3 little words might be “I love you.”  That’s what I always thought of when I heard the phrase, 3 little words.  Three little words that are magic, that make our hearts sing.  And then,  Sue Coore gave me an article by Chris Brogan, “My 3 Words for 2016,” and my head began to spin.  Brogan’s thesis, which works for Rosh HaShanah as much as it does for New Year’s Eve, is that challenging ourselves with just 3 words to guide us in the coming year, is more powerful and effective than making resolutions.  He describes his own process as follows, “Make the words such that they influence your choice of actions, encourage you to decide in favor of your goals, and guide you towards lasting results that you want to experience throughout the year.”  He suggests that we, “Write these words down. Post them everywhere. Schedule them to pop up in your calendar. And use these words as part of your decision-making process every day.”[1]  Three little words to frame our new year.

Pirke Avot (1:2) says that the entire world stands on only 3 things- on Torah, or, we might say, lifelong learning; on worship, which we might understand as having a sense of awe or holiness; and gemilut chasadim, loving acts of kindness.  If we were to adopt the perspective of Pirke Avot, our 3 little words as we enter 5779 might be- learning, holiness, and kindness.  Three very worthy thoughts.  Continuing to learn is a fundamental Jewish value.  Developing and maintaining a sense of awe leads to gratitude and happiness.  And community is impossible without devotion to caring for each other.  If we could commit ourselves to learning, holiness, and kindness- dayenu!

When my daughter Sarah graduated from medical school, Dr. Mitchell Shub addressed the class.  He emphasized 3 things to the newly minted doctors- perseverance, kindness, and honesty.  Perseverance is necessary in life.  We get knocked down, we get sidetracked, and we need to find the resources within to keep going.  Kindness.  Henry James said it best, Three things are important in life:  the first is to be kind, the second is to be kind, and the third is to be kind.”  Honesty- aha!  What a beautiful world it would be if only people were honest.  Can you imagine throwing out all of your keys and deleting all of your passwords because you could rely on the honesty of others?  It would be paradise!  Perseverance, kindness, and honesty- three little words.

Throughout this past year Temple Chai hosted several discussion groups on the theme of “Wise Aging.”  We explored life review and the balance between the physical and the spiritual as we get older.  We talked about how relationships evolve and how we deal with loss.  In one conversation, Joel Sherman shared that his guiding principles are happiness, hope, and gratitude.  Happiness can be a conscious decision that we make each day, to embrace happiness as our baseline unless there is a very good reason to be UNhappy.  Too often we confuse happiness with fun, and we wait for fun activities to bring happiness to our lives, when we can just be happy to be alive.  Gratitude is the foundation of happiness.  When we truly appreciate all of the blessings in our lives, a deep and profound joy emerges.  And hope- the national anthem of the Jewish people, HaTikvah- the hope.  When times are tough, it is hope that sustains us both individually and as a community.  Happiness, gratitude, hope- 3 little words.

The Torah says, “V’ahavta l’rayacha kamocha;” it’s 3 words in Hebrew, a bit more in English- love your neighbor as yourself. Rabbi Akiva identified this as the most important principle in the Torah.  Brogan advises against choosing a phrase, though.  He writes that (that) “kind of eats the power potential of what you can do with the words.  (For example), ‘Do the work’ pretty much eats up a lot of room compared to ‘work,’ which gets the same accomplished.”  If you were going to pick a phrase, though, to guide your year, you won’t go wrong with “V’ahavta l’reyacha kamocha- love your neighbor as yourself.”  Three little words that could also change the world if we all took them on as our call to action.

Brogan began this process in 2006, with Ask, Do, Share. “In 2006, my three words were “Ask. Do. Share.” “Everything I did,” he writes,  “I tried to filter through the mindset of asking people for help, or asking if I could help them. Doing seems self-explanatory. Sharing was making sure that I shared opportunities with others, that I shared my learning with you, and that I kept myself open to sharing the possibilities.”  He reports that “They prompted me to:

  • Ask more questions where I didn’t know.
  • Ask if I could help.
  • Ask FOR help.
  • Do more instead of plan more.
  • Share what I learned.
  • Share great people’s work.”[2]

Brogan shared his partner, Rob Hatch’s, great work, Rob’s 3 words for 2013- Systems, Service, and Now. “Systems – If 2012 revealed anything to me, it was the power of building a System for even the most simple aspects of my life. Systems are simply habits that I have borrowed, hacked, or designed to enable me to accomplish a goal, complete a project, or simply structure my life or work. Systems give me time, free me from worry, allow me to focus and present. They also serve as platforms for risk taking. Service – Service is a reminder to both be of service to others and that my actions should serve my goals. Now – Whatever my hopes, dreams or goals may be, what matters is what I do now. Whether that is doing the work in front of me or being present for the people I’m with. Now matters.”[3]  Systems, Service, Now.  Brogan and his partner engage the three words strategy mostly in a business context.  I might translate that into more comfortable and familiar religious language.

What he calls systems I might call rituals. Rituals are, indeed, a way to provide structure and meaning to our lives, not to mention ways to keep our lives in order.  Service, tikkun olam, is clearly a fundamental Jewish value.  We have a mandate to perform loving acts of kindness and to leave the world a better place than we found it.  Combined with now, I think of Hillel’s 3-part teaching, “If I am not for myself, who will be for me?  If I am only for myself, what am I?  And, if not now, when?”[4]

Brogan picked up on the theme of ritual this year, 2018.  His 3 words- Ritual, Execute, Value.   “Ritual – I’ve fallen away from developing habits and operational tempo in my days. I need to build back rituals and make them the guts of how I structure my life and living. This also reminds me to place great strength and power into the simple matters of life, like choosing what I eat and drink, and ensuring that I treat my life as if I’m making moments instead of just clicking off hours.  Execute – Push the button. Make something happen. Take action. I’ve felt a bit sluggish in 2017. Time to power back up.  Execute is a reminder to move and take action and do something instead of just think about it. Have the difficult conversations.   Value – Create value. Make sure my time is dedicated to creating value. Build more and more value for myself and others. Help companies see the value in the projects I intend to help them execute in 2018. That’s the big plan. Be clear that I value myself more.”[5]  Ritual, execute, value- 3 pretty creative little words!

So, by now I hope that you’re thinking about your 3 words for 5779. What 3 words might you embrace to guide this new year of life?  Take a few minutes and brainstorm with the folks around you, and then I’ll share my 3 words.

Let me conclude with my 3 words for 5779- Flourish, Savor, Care. Flourish was inspired, of all things, by a sign in the British Airways jetway, a sign that read, “Flourish- whatever the conditions.”  There are certainly situations in life in which it is next to impossible to flourish, yet, they are, thankfully, few and far between.  I am hoping that “flourish” will inspire me to look at every single day as an opportunity to grow and to blossom, to avoid the sense of stagnation that can sometimes plague us.  Dictionary definitions of flourish include thriving in a healthy environment, to be vigorous and to grow luxuriantly.  In the year ahead, I aspire to flourish!

I see flourish as the broad stroke, and savor as one way to appreciate that flourishing. To savor means enjoying the big things in life, and the little things, with deep pleasure and gratitude.  I savor the moments at the end of the day, drinking a glass of wine and enjoying the companionship of my beloved as we watch the glorious Arizona sunset.  I savor the time with my children and grandchildren, in awe at every new word and every new skill.    “When you savor something,” according to Dictionary.com,  “you enjoy it so much that you want to make it last forever. With that in mind, savor carries a connotation of doing something slowly.”  Rabbi Chizkiah taught that, “A person will have to answer for everything that his eye beheld and he did not consume” [6]  I intend to consume and savor as much as possible in 5779.

Care is my third watchword. Flourish and Savor are personal.  I don’t want this year to be a year of selfishness, so retaining and acting on a genuine sense of caring is vital.  As a rabbi, I am exposed to so much pain and hardship and suffering.  Part of honoring others is to help to carry their burdens, to be supportive and empathetic, to listen with an open heart and a caring presence.  I pray that I will never forget that the goal of caring for others is the essence of this holy work, and I might add, this holy life.  “To make a difference in someone’s life,” wrote Mandy Hale, “you don’t have to be brilliant, rich, beautiful or perfect. you just have to care.”  “People don’t care how much you know,” it has wisely been noted, “until they know how much you care.”

I put these words on my calendar so that they will pop up regularly throughout the year as reminders to help me re-center and re-focus.

Flourish, Savor, Care- my 3 little words for 5779. What will yours be?

 

 

 

[1] https://chrisbrogan.com/3words2018/

[2] https://chrisbrogan.com/3-words-2016/

[3] https://chrisbrogan.com/my-3-words-for-2013/

[4] Pirke Avot 1:14

[5] https://chrisbrogan.com/3words2018/

[6] Jerusalem Talmud, Kiddushin 4:12

John McCain: Exemplar of Jewish Values

 

Senator John McCain

 

“How mighty ones have fallen.”  (II Samuel 1:25)  John McCain served the people of Arizona as our elected representative in Washington, DC, for over 40 years.  The memory of the righteous is for blessing.  He will be remembered for his dedication to duty, continuing his family’s legacy of military service that dated to the Revolutionary War.  As a young officer, McCain demonstrated an inspiring sense of duty and courage.  The spirit that forged him in his early years, came to be his hallmark throughout his life.  His courage is a humbling example for every American citizen.

In Pirke Avot 5:22, the Sages describe the characteristic of each decade of life.  “Eighty – power, or strength (gevurah).”  John McCain died at the age of 81, truly a man for whom strength was a defining characteristic.  His strength of conviction, his perseverance in the face of adversity, his raw tenacity.  As a national leader, power is certainly a quality we associate with Senator McCain.   In his later years, John McCain found his prophetic voice, fiercely speaking truth to power.  As Jews, we can only admire this example of questioning authority and accepting any consequences.  We are a people for whom asking questions is a cultural phenomenon.  John McCain was never afraid to ask hard questions.

As a survivor of torture while imprisoned for 5 ½ years during the Vietnam War, McCain was a force to be reckoned with in prohibiting the use of torture by US government forces.  This highly decorated veteran leveraged his credentials and credibility to create more humane policies.  His moral voice will continue to resound for many, many generations.

In 2002, Senator McCain published a book entitled, Worth the Fighting For.  We toast “L’Chayim- to Life,” the ultimate value worth fighting for.  With his family steadfastly by his side, he has fought the battle of a lifetime against glioblastoma.  John McCain exemplified the principle of love of life.  He spent his final days in Sedona, where we can only imagine that the unique and breathtaking environment were a source of awe and comfort.  Much as he fought for life, he also leaves a role model for letting go and accepting when we have reached the end of our days.  “Americans,” he said, “never quit.”  John McCain did not quit.  He taught us one final lesson about appreciating life and yet achieving a dignified end on our own terms.

In his book, Character is Destiny, McCain wrote, “It is your character, and your character alone, that will make your life happy or unhappy.”  By his own standard, then, John McCain was blessed with a happy life.  May it be so for all of us and may he rest in peace- Amen.

 

Rabbi Bonnie Koppell

 

Learning from Pinchas: What NOT to Do

This week’s parsha is named for Pinchas. Remember him? He’s the guy who was upset about the behavior of his fellow Israelites who were consorting with some of the local women. His solution? He stabbed one couple to death, and, was actually rewarded for his efforts. The inability to tolerate diverse points of view is as old as humanity itself. Resorting to violence as a way of expressing dissatisfaction is not a new phenomenon, though it feels to us like the problem has increased exponentially in our day.

The rabbis say, “kadma derech eretz l’Torah- good manners comes before Torah.” How quaint! According to Rabbi Eliyahu Dessler, (Michtav M’Eliyahu Vol. 4), “One who does not appreciate the obligation to respect others lacks the attributes required for success in Torah [learning].” Respect for others is a fundamental principle of Jewish tradition. The Talmud records many controversies between the school of Hillel and the school of Shammai. In virtually all of them, the opinion of Hillel prevails. Why is this? Because they took seriously and were respectful of the opinions of their opponents.

We read in Eruvin 13b, “For three years, the House of Hillel and the House of Shammai argued. One said, ‘The halacha (law) is according to our position,’ and the other said, ‘The halacha is according to our position.’ A heavenly voice spoke: “These and those are the words of the living God, and the halacha is according to the House of Hillel.” A question was raised: Since the heavenly voice declared: “Both these and those are the words of the Living God,” why was the halacha established to follow the opinion of Hillel? It is because the students of Hillel were kind and gracious. They taught their own ideas as well as the ideas from the students of Shammai. Furthermore, they even taught Shammai’s opinions first.” In other words, the house of Hillel was rewarded for the respect that they showed to alternate points of view, a rare trait in today’s contentious environment where there is no tolerance for perspectives that differ from our own.

When the Jewish people left Egypt and Moses needed to provide water for them in the wilderness, he was instructed to strike a rock and water spewed forth. After the people had experienced freedom and a new generation arose, God told Moses to speak to a rock to bring forth water. Why the difference? In a free society, to function successfully, we must learn to speak to each other, to find gentle ways to live together and not resort immediately to violence, whether physical or verbal. What worked for Pinchas in the Torah is clearly not working for us in the United States in 2018.

George Will offered his own, “Theory of Vulgarity in Our Contemporary Life.” In his column he referred to “today’s casual coarseness” which he described as a “facet of a larger phenomenon of which incivility is a part.” “Incivility”, he suggests, “is becoming normal.”   He suggests that the pervasive use of technology has cut us off from social connection, leaving us dissociated from any social context and resulting in pervasive boorishness. Certainly we behave on Facebook and Twitter in ways that we would never behave in person. Derech eretz kadma l’Torah- good manners are more important than our observance of halacha. We can’t claim to be religious people if we are intolerant and unkind.

The Seder Eliyahu Rabba (26) depicts God as teaching us, “My beloved children, am I in want of anything that I should request of you? But what I ask of you is that you should love, honor and respect one another.” The way we treat each other is the one thing which is out of God’s control and the ultimate expression of our humanity.

As we read the story of Pinchas taking the law into his own hands, we’d like to think that we have evolved past violence as the solution to our disagreements. It is okay to disagree. As Jews, we sharpen our wit and argue for sport. Yet, our own humanity is threatened when we cannot find ways to express our perspective with respect, honoring the humanity of those with whom we may disagree. Derech eretz, good manners, remains a fundamental Jewish value, and one worthy of our serious consideration.

 

 

 

 

 

Balak, Bilaam, and the Israelite Refugees

Massive numbers of people amassed in a temporary encampment. The people of the land feel threatened. They are in dread of the children. The southern border of Arizona? No. This week’s Torah portion, Balak. Here’s how the parsha begins, in Numbers 22:3- “Moab was alarmed because that people was so numerous. . . and they dreaded the children.” Who is this people who is so numerous and so threatening? It’s us! As the Israelites journey from slavery to freedom, as we wandered in the wilderness seeking refuge, Balak, the king of Moab, became concerned and frightened.

Balak reaches out to Bilaam- the famous guy who rides a talking donkey- and asks Bilaam to put a curse on the Israelites. “Come,” Balak says, “put a curse upon this people for me, since they are too numerous for me; perhaps I can defeat them and drive them out of the land.” (Nu. 22:6) Fear of people gathering on your border is nothing new. I don’t claim to know the solution to our current crisis. Clearly there are many opinions about how to fix our broken immigration system. I do know that the bond between parents and children is holy, and interfering with that bond is, in the words of Rabbi David Stern, president of the CCAR, “traumatic cruelty.”

Rabbi Stern writes in this week’s CCAR blog, “We have witnessed traumatic cruelty in our nation.” He reminds us that “If witnessing it has been traumatic, we can only imagine the pain of those who suffered it directly: the parents and children whose wails tear at our hearts. . . The practice of ripping children from their parents is not Zero Tolerance. It is Zero Compassion. It is Zero Wisdom. . . It has been a violation of core Jewish values.”

The Torah reminds us again and again and again of the foundational importance of sensitivity to strangers. It is the most frequently repeated mitzvah in the 5 books, with 36 references. Exodus 23:9 is just one example, “You shall not oppress a stranger, for you know the feelings of the stranger, having yourselves been strangers in the land of Egypt.” Leviticus 24:22- “You shall have one law for the stranger and for the citizen.” Exodus 12:49- “One Torah, that is, one law, there shall be for the citizen and for the stranger who dwells among you.” Leviticus 19:33-34- “When a stranger dwells in your land, do not oppress him. The stranger who dwells among you shall be like one of your citizens, you should love them like yourself, because you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” I won’t read you all 36 references, but you get the idea.

The Jewish community, not notoriously united, banded together, 27 separate organizations, to call on the administration to desist from separating families who are seeking asylum in the land of the free and the home of the brave, as every one of our ancestors did in generations past.

I may not be an expert on immigration policy, but, as a graduate of the US Army War College, I know something about the definition of a failed state. And there are clearly some failed states in Central America. When governments can no longer perform fundamental functions, most notably keeping its people safe, it has failed. Elvia Diaz, writing in the Arizona Republic this past Saturday (June 23, 2018, p. 15A) asks, “How can anyone possibly justify the halfhearted response of these countries, whose policies pushed the immigrants to risk their lives and end up in cages in a foreign land?” There has been a righteous outcry in our country over the inhumane treatment of asylum seekers. Ms. Diaz’ words are a critical reminder that we have a responsibility to hold the governments of Central America and Mexico accountable for protecting their own populations, and perhaps supporting them in doing so.

So what can we do to support the refugees in our community? A few suggestions can be found in your Shabbat bulletin- donate gift cards and clothing, send words of encouragement, contribute to the cost of legal services, and, as always, share your thoughts with your elected representatives.

The parsha has a happy ending. Bilaam tries 3 times, from 3 different locations, to curse the Israelite refugees from Egypt. Three times, God intervenes to turn his curses into words of blessing. Balak is so frustrated, that he orders Bilaam to shut up- “Don’t curse them and don’t bless them.” (Numbers 23:25) It’s too late, Bilaam replies. I told you up front that, “I could not of my own accord do anything good or bad contrary to the Lord’s command.” It is a testimony to the powerful impact of Bilaam, that his words of blessing are incorporated into the siddur as the very first words with which we open our Shabbat morning service, “Ma tovu ohalecha Yaakov, mishkenotecha Yisrael- how good are your tents, O Jacob, your dwelling places, O Israel.”

We renew our commitment to hope and pray and work towards the goal of turning the curses in our current national environment into words of blessing and healing.

JWB Jewish Chaplains Council- JCCA- “Jewish Military Professional Award”

In 1978 when I raised my hand and swore to defend the Constitution of the United States I had no idea what I was getting into.  I grew up in Brooklyn, NY, near what was then the US Army Chaplain School at Fort Hamilton, NY.  Knowing that I wanted to be a rabbi, I was always curious about what went on behind those walls.  So, when I learned of the chaplain candidate program, I applied and was accepted as the first female Jewish candidate in any branch of service.  No one in my family had ever served in the military and I reported to the Chaplain Officer Basic Course without a clue as to how to put on a uniform.  Never in my wildest imagination could I have imagined standing here now at the end of a long and rich career.

I graduated from rabbinical school in 1981, and began an amazing journey, from Korea to Germany, to Iraq, Afghanistan, and Kuwait, and culminating in the most intense learning experience of my life as a student at the US Army War College.  The Army allocates significant resources towards training leaders.  Trust is a foundation of leadership.  One of the most important things I learned was that- “Trust is a risk game. The leader must ante up first.”

As chaplains we see each Soldier as an individual, made in the image of God, providing comfort and support, encouragement and a listening ear. When tragedy strikes, as it too often does, people feel helpless to respond.  No one knows what to say, what to do.  It is the military chaplain who has the holy privilege of being the person who represents the command as that first line of defense.  Successful leadership demands genuine caring.

There have been so many poignant opportunities to express that caring. Military service can be a lonely experience as a Jew, and it is our chaplains who foster a sense of community among Jewish servicemembers.  I recall one Chanukkah at Bagram Airfield in Afghanistan.  A SGT who participated in the Chanukkah program each night confided that, “I didn’t realize how much I was longing to connect with my people.”  Or the seder at FOB Taji where one young woman told me, “It almost feels like home.”

Leadership means setting priorities and following through with commitments. It sometimes means learning to say no, though one of my guiding principles has been, “Find 99 reasons to say yes rather than 1 reason to say no.”  It means leading by example.  As chaplains, we build relationships by being with others, putting up tents, eating in the DFAC, or serving on guard duty.  We earn respect which is fundamental to effective leadership by our willingness to engage with Soldiers wherever they are.

Leadership means recognizing that none of us can do it alone. The project is never complete until the thank you notes have been written.  I am so grateful for my physical and mental well-being, for the support of my family and friends, for the incredible and unique opportunities I have had to serve God and country as a chaplain in the United States Army Reserve.  I pray God’s blessing on each of you, and God bless America.

 

 

Holiness and Goodness

What a joy to be together with this beautiful community to begin a day of sharing and learning devoted to the theme of “Wholiness.” I want to thank Nancy Weinberger, Gail Alcaly, Teri Cohen, Simone Schwartz, and Janet Yellish, along with their committee, for all of their hard work to make this event possible.  I know that when I come to these kind of events, all I really want to do is spend time with all of the amazing friends who are present- the speakers and the workshops are entirely secondary to the goal of being with so many people that I love.  Is it any wonder that the quintessential Jewish dance is the hora, a dance of community celebrating together.

Holiness, your theme for the day is the foundation of Jewish spirituality. Judaism does not teach that in order to have an experience of holiness we need to remove ourselves from society, climb a mountain, meditate and contemplate.  Rather, it challenges us to drive in traffic, get married, have a job and children, AND, to maintain a sense of holiness in our lives.  We do this through the path of blessing and the cultivation of gratitude, through a constant process of self-reflection focused on expanding our own character.  “You shall be holy,” we read in the Torah, “as I, God, am holy.” (Leviticus 19:2)

Nick Hornby wrote a book called, “How To Be Good, “ an intriguing study of a young family man who becomes dissatisfied with what might be described as an “ordinary” level of goodness in his life, and his struggle to come to terms with what is an appropriate level of materialism and is there such a thing as “enough” when it comes to caring for the needs of others? He longs for a sense of meaning, a sense of holiness, in his life.

In the book, David and Katie live a comfortable, middle class existence.  David earns his living writing a column for the local newspaper based on his anger with all the trivial annoyances of life.  Even though he earns his livelihood through his anger, his anger is undermining their marriage.  Then David meets DJ GoodNews, a full-time social activist.  Overnight, the angry cynic acquires a deep sense of values.  He begins to re-shape his household in accordance with his newly discovered quest for goodness.  Among his first actions is donating one of the household computers to a domestic violence shelter.  His son is, naturally shocked.  When David challenges his son’s values, the child replies that, yes, he does want to help, “but not as much as a whole computer.”[1]  It occurs to me that we all feel this way- we all want to help, but not as much as- fill in the blank with whatever is your personal hesitation regarding giving.  Katie finds herself confused:  “I’m a good person.  I’m a doctor, and here I am championing greed over selflessness.”   How to be good and how good do we have to be turns out to be not such an easy question to answer, and one of the fundamental questions of the religious life.

“So what do I believe?,” Katie asks herself.  “Nothing much, apparently.  I believe that there shouldn’t be homelessness, and I’d definitely be prepared to argue with anyone who says otherwise.  Ditto battered women.  Ditto, I don’t know, racism, poverty and sexism”,[2] she answers her own question, rather glibly.   I’m sure we all agree with Katie’s sentiments, the question is, what are we doing about it and what should we be doing about it and can we ever be satisfied that we are doing enough?  How can we be forces for healing in our troubled world?

GoodNews’ radical answer is that until the last peasant in the rain forest has a dishwasher and a cappuccino maker, then he’s not joining in.  Where do the rest of us, who’d like to think of ourselves as good people, draw the line?  As the story progresses, they organize a neighborhood meeting and ask each family to consider having a homeless person move in with them.  “Do we have a moral right”, ask David and GoodNews, “to keep a spare bedroom as a junk room, or a music room, or for overnight guests who never come, when it is February and freezing and wet and there are people on the pavements?”[3]  Ultimately Katie comes to the perspective I think we all share; as she puts it, “We know what’s right, but we don’t do it because it’s too hard, it asks too much.”[4]  So, the question we come to wrestle with today is, what are we willing to do to be forces for holiness in our own lives and in the world?

“A recent New Yorker Magazine depicted a cartoon of a man kneeling in prayer at his bed before retiring for the night.  Looking heavenward, this fellow complains, ‘I asked You, in the nicest possible way, to make me a better person, but apparently You couldn’t be bothered’.”[5]  If only we could just turn the whole thing over to God and save ourselves the angst and hard work involved in being and becoming better people!

Okay, so we can’t save the world, but what can we do? What are we willing to do?  Here’s another story with a less radical and therefore more inspiring and realistic approach.  “A little boy about 10 years old was standing before a shoe store on a roadway, barefoot, peering through the window, and shivering with cold.  A lady approached the boy and said, ‘My little fellow, why are you looking so earnestly in that window?’  ‘I was asking God to give me a pair of shoes,’ was the boy’s reply.  The lady took him by the hand and went into the store and asked the clerk to get a half a dozen pairs of socks for the boy.  She then asked if he could give her a basin of water and a towel.  He quickly brought them to her.  She took the little fellow to the back part of the store, and removing her gloves, knelt down, washed his little feet, and dried them with a towel.  By this time the clerk had returned with the socks.  Placing a pair on the boy’s feet, she purchased him a pair of shoes.  She tied up the remaining pairs of socks and gave them to him.  She patted him on the head and said, ‘No doubt, my little fellow, you feel more comfortable now?’  As she turned to go, the astonished child caught her by the hand and looking up in her face, with tears in his eyes, answered the question with these words:  ‘Are you God’s wife?’”[6]  The reality is that we are all God’s hands and God’s hearts. Listen to these inspiring words of Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, “When I was young I admired clever people. Now that I am old, I admire kind people.”

Compassion is not just one attribute of God; it is the first one mentioned in the list of 13 attributes- “Adonai, Adonai, el rakhum v’khanun- God who is compassionate and gracious”.   We who are created in the Divine image, are challenged to bring holiness to our world through our compassion and caring.

I had the honor to serve in the US Army Reserve for 38 years.  In the Army, before they give you the APFT, the Army Physical Fitness Test, you get a little briefing on each event.  Before the sit-up, the person grading the test reminds you that as long as you are continuing to try to sit up, the event is not over.  So it is with our moral development.  As long as we are still making an attempt, we are still in the game!  And, since we never outgrow the yetzer ha-ra, the evil inclination, it is a struggle that will be with us throughout our days.

Rabbi Harold Kushner sums it up well in his book How Good Do We Have to Be?”:   “If we are brave enough to love, if we are strong enough to forgive, if we are generous enough to rejoice in each other’s happiness, and if we are wise enough to know that there is enough love to go around for us all, then we can achieve a fulfillment that no other living creature will ever know.  We can reenter Paradise.”[7]  He leaves us with these words of encouragement, “How good can we expect a person to be?  As good as he or she is capable of being, and much of the time that turns out to be very good indeed.”[8]

It is so easy and all too tempting to be judgmental. As we gather here today to focus on our own inner development, let’s conclude by connecting with our sense of compassion and caring for each other.  I invite you to think of a person in this room from whom you perhaps feel estranged.  Maybe there were harsh words exchanged or some personal slight. It is inevitable in human relationships that tensions arise.  Yet, as we seek to create holiness in our lives, it is healing for us to let go of resentment and judgement.  Think about that person and hold their image in your mind as you close your eyes.

  1. With your attention on the person, repeat to yourself: “Just like me, this person is seeking some happiness for (his or her) life.”
  2. With your attention on the person, repeat to yourself: “Just like me, this person is trying to avoid suffering in (his or her) life.”
  3. With your attention on the person, repeat to yourself: “Just like me, this person has known sadness, loneliness and despair.”
  4. With your attention on the person, repeat to yourself: “Just like me, this person is seeking to fill (his or her) needs.”
  5. With your attention on the person, repeat to yourself: “Just like me, this person is learning about life.

Open your eyes and let’s learn about life together here today.

 

[1] Hornby, Nicholas, How to Be Good, NY:  Riverhead Books, 2001, p. 92

[2] Hornby, op.cit., p. 94

[3] Hornby, op. cit., p. 142

[4] Hornby, op. cit., p. 156

[5] Cohn, Rabbi Edward Paul, “From Where I Stand”, quoted in The American Rabbi, High Holy Days 2002/5763, p. 194

[6] The American Rabbi, Fall 2000, p. 18

[7] Kushner, Harold S., How Good Do We Have to Be?,  NY:  Little Brown and Company, 1996, p. 181

[8] ibid., p. 177

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