Silver Platter

Posted on December 18, 2017 by Rabbi Lisa Sari Bellows
We started the day with a lecture and discussion on the complexities of Israeli society and culture with Professor Paul Liptz.  One hour for the topic is certainly not nearly enough, but it was enough to make very clear–living here means simultaneously living in one of the measurably happiest counties in the world and also one of the most stressful.  On the way to the next site to learn about the founding of Israel and the War of Independence, our awesome ARZA WORLD tour guide, Lana Zilberman read us  Natan Alterman’s poem, The Silver Platter. The famous poem was inspired by Chaim Weizmann, the first President of Israel who commented on the 1947 UN Partition plan;  “No state is ever handed on a silver platter.”
Translator: David P. Stern
…And the land will grow still
Crimson skies dimming, misting
Slowly paling again
Over smoking frontiers
As the nation stands up
Torn at heart but existing
To receive its first wonder
In two thousand years
As the moment draws near
It will rise, darkness facing Stand straight in the moonlight In terror and joy
…When across from it step out
Towards it slowly pacing In plain sight of all A young girl and a boy
Dressed in battle gear, dirty
Shoes heavy with grime
On the path they will climb up
While their lips remain sealed
To change garb, to wipe brow
They have not yet found time Still bone weary from days And from nights in the field
Full of endless fatigue
And all drained of emotion
Yet the dew of their youth
Is still seen on their head
Thus like statues they stand
Stiff and still with no motion And no sign that will show If they live or are dead  
Then a nation in tears
And amazed at this matter Will ask: who are you? And the two will then say
With soft voice: We–
Are the silver platter On which the Jews’ state Was presented today  
Then they fall back in darkness
As the dazed nation looks And the rest can be found In the history books.
At the end of a long day of touring the Palmach museum, Cessaria, Haifa Bahai Garden’s, meeting with Paul Liptz and having a home hospitality lunch and learn with a member of the Druze Israeli community, I know that we too are carrying  silver platters tarnished with the hopes, dreams, and visions of those who came before us.  I hope we are worthy. And I hope that we can change the course of history, one peaceful act at a time.
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Se’mu Lev: Pay Heed

Posted on December 17, 2017 by Rabbi Lisa Sari Bellows

Day One:

It was a truly beautiful day filled with awe-inspiring moments, facts, tours, descriptions, long walks, new sights and smells and… a day that required stamina and patience.  See, there was a massive labor strike in Israel over the proposed layoffs of 1700 workers at Teva Pharmesutials, the largest generic drug company in the world and every segment of the population in Israel was affected by the strike, including the airport where the passport workers struck from 8am-noon.  This mayhem and other odd travel adventures resulted in plenty of exhausted, weary travelers and changes to our Day 1 itinerary.  While waiting close to 2 hours in the airport for the second half of our group to arrive, Gabi, my 16-year-old mentioned that one of her favorite sayings is Se’mu Lev: Pay heed.  Pay Heed–Pay attention, don’t miss anything and everything is important! Pay heed–we might not have planed the day the way it turned out… but don’t ‘zone’ out, don’t miss it, even if you don’t like it.  Se’mu Lev: Be where you are. Be present.

There is a beautiful Piyut, liturgical Poem Odeh LEl which perfectly expresses the idea of Semu Lev: Pay attention to your own soul. She is beautiful and calls to you. And as my friend Rabbi John Bush reminds me, Se’mu Lev–“put your heart into it” Pay close enough attention that you can hear the call and prayers of your heart and the whispering of your soul.

One of the stops we made today,  Independence Hall deeply touched my soul. On this 6th night of Hanukah, the retelling of how David Ben Gurion declared Israel a state was reminiscent of the Maccabean struggle.   Our museum docent was incredible and the story of the founding of this Country in the midst of war, hatred, alienation, and destruction is quite simply… a miracle.  At the end of the tour we sang Hatikvah, the Israeli national anthem and there were tears shed by many of us.  Although words today like “homeland” have great political conotations, I also recognize that Israel was born out of great necessity and remains a haven for Jews fleeing hatred and persecution. When paying heed to this story I can feel the miracle of the birth of the State of Israel in my kishkes–from deep within.

Also,  knowing that for one-day thousands and thousands of Israelis went on strike and shut down the country today in solidarity with 1700 people also reaches me and reminds me that sometimes, family does support family.  Yes, not always, in fact not even most of the time here, but every so often, they get it right.

Se’mu Lev~ today was indeed a day to pay heed.

Greetings from Tel Aviv.

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Israel: Before the Tour!

Posted on December 16, 2017 by Rabbi Lisa Sari Bellows

We landed early this morning and after a relatively easy flight and travel and arrived from Zurich at 3:45.  ARZA/DAAT Travel took good care of us so that we were able to check into our room early and sleep before indulging in the incredible Israeli hotel Breakfast which Nathan has been looking forward to breakfast since we last were last here in 2015!  We then went on a guided walking tour of the Neve Tzedek neighborhood, founded in 1888, before Tel Aviv was built and is now known for its narrow winding streets and is home to some of Israel’s finest theaters, dance companies, and art houses. We finished the tour at the Tel Aviv old train station and park and  Gabi and I said good-bye to the rest of the Bellows and their grandparents and headed for the Hotel. Gabi is doing well and is looking forward to being pain-free after she has microdiscectomy surgery soon after we return home.   She is a great sport and is going to do as much of  the tour as she can. she knows that while here in Israel she is free to go to her fav coffee shop, Aroma and do homework or go back to the hotel to rest.

We are quite fortunate that the kids consider Israel as one of their homes: Lucy is trying to speak only Hebrew and is making a vlog (video blog) and Nathan is soaking everything up and offering us a great deal back!

I am re-experiencing, through the kids, what it first felt like to be in Israel, to touch ground on this land.  As one kid said to me this morning, “Everyone looks like me here.”  Whether literally true or not—she expressed a feeling that I first had decades ago when coming to Israel at 16 years old. There is a comfort level here for them, a sense of belonging, of fitting in, they feel they have a place in this world and as much as I want to talk about Reform Judaism in Israel and pluralism (and I will)…. I know what she means.  There will be plenty of time to experience the reality of what it means to be a Reform Jew in Israel and to talk about  the politics here and the deep levels of discrimination experienced by many.  But For now, on this 4th day of Hanukkah, it is so awesome to witness the miracle of our People, this Land, and my children who feel a connection to this land and the ancestors.

Our Congregation Beth Am Tour officially begins tomorrow!  Shavua Tov and Happy Hanukkah!

Happy Hanukkah on Dizengoff street:IMG_E0364sunset view from hotel room: IMG_0349Nathan and his first Sufganiah in Israel:IMG_0368.JPG

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We Stand Here Today: The Trajectory of A Blessed Shul

Posted on October 3, 2017 by Rabbi Lisa Sari Bellows

In 2012, I stood before you and shared that I often feel like I am living in a Bible story, at that time I admitted that I felt as if I was living in Exodus when God commanded, Asu Li Mikdash, “build for me a sanctuary.” God said to Moses, “Tell the people they should build for me a sanctuary, so that I may dwell amongst them.” God did not say, “build a sanctuary for me that I might dwell with in it,” God said, “so that I might dwell amongst them.”  At that time in Beth Am’s history, we were preparing to leave our treasured building and it was to be the second to the last High Holidays we would spend under the Beth Am Jewish Star cut-out from the high ceiling that was once in this very place.  Back then as a congregation, we studied and shared about the meaning of Asu Li Mikdash, V’shocahti b’tocaham, “Build for me a sanctuary and I will dwell amongst them.” We learned about  how God doesn’t need the edifice, rather, we are taught, God dwells among and within us and that we take God with us where ever we go. For how could this not have been our story at that time?  We had just put 225 North McHenry Road–this building, then Congregation Beth Am’s home, on the real estate market and there were so very many unknowns.  It was a time of grieving, of saying good-bye, of feeling scared about the future of our congregational family.  We faced our reality with strength, even though it was so very difficult. Ultimately, we saw that a synagogue is nothing but four walls and an ark—it is the people that make the community, it is the people that give us life and sustain the congregation.  We are now five years from that sermon.  We have settled into Abbott Court.  It has become our home where we worship, learn, teach, meet, play, draw, meditate, practice yoga, repair and find refuge; Beth Am is a true sanctuary in a broken, complicated world.

Asu Li Mikdash-was our story for a few years, and then in 2014 I stood before you and offered a different biblical story I felt I was living in.    It’s not exactly a biblical story, it’s a midrash–a teaching of the rabbis, not found in the Torah.  It is the Nachson story.   The rabbis teach us that when the Israelites reached the Red Sea it did not automatically part. Frozen with fear, the Israelites stood at the banks of the sea crying out to God for help.  With the Egyptians quickly encroaching and the waters not yet parting, Nachson, a man of faith and bravery, entered the waters. Only when the water reached his neck did the sea finally part and the Israelites marched on to liberation.  Nachson.   Fearless.  Faithful.  Courageous.  Risk Taker.

In 2014, Beth Am, like Nachshon took the first step into the water, eventually walking across dry land into safety.  With wholeness, solvency, creativity, awareness and kavanah – intention, we gingerly stepped into an exciting, purposeful future.  We walked together striving to create a flourishing community that like all synagogues and houses of worship today, had to reinvent themselves in light of the hard-core facts that indicate the fastest growing religious group in the country are of the nones–not the catholic nuns but the N-O-N-E-S, the ones who want no-affiliation to a religious institution.

In the last 5 years, this group has gone from 15% to 23%[i] of the population and it is only expected to increase.   Synagogues and churches alike have to look closely at these facts and speedily address issues of no-affiliation, reevaluate our purpose, clearly define why it is that people should join us and reexamine the roles we play in society in general and in particular in our very own communities.

The synagogue is desperately needed today, for we live in era when people crave meaningful moments, ways to connect to the self, to others and to that which is sacred and bigger than themselves and this is at its core, what the synagogue is about.   Beth Am is about offering programs and opportunities for sure, but its first and foremost about its people.  Our synagogue should be a place of refuge, a place where kindness and civility can be found in a world that today is so lacking in the very fundamentals of decency and compassion.  Beth Am is a shelter of peace providing sacred space for celebrations and life cycle moments;, sharing our joys and our sadness and being there for one another.    Yes, the Nachson story of fearless liberation and pursuit of retuning to our highest selves was, and remains, much of the story we live.

And because we, Beth Am has been like Nachoson, we move now into another beautiful and important biblical adventure story.  The bible story I believe that our entire community as well as myself are living now is the very one we read this morning.  Atem Nitzvaim hayom. We read in Deuteronomy 29:9-10, “You stand this day, all of you, before the Eternal your God–you tribal heads, you elders, and you officials, all of the men of Israel, you children, you women, even the stranger within your camp, from woodchopper to water drawer….”

This is our story today because we have made it through some harrowing moments and with strength and dignity we answer God’s call to choose life and live.

We stand here This day on the shoulders of those who came before us, we are a congregation that has never forgotten tradition, yet we are innovators who know that the only way to survive and to thrive is to be fearless and thoughtful people of faith who know that change is the only constant in this world and that the only reason our people has survived is because we have embraced this change, refusing to allow tradition to hold us back, and modernity to dilute our core values and that which sustains us.

We stand here today as a people who have said, Here I am—Henani to being God’s people in covenantal relationship. We know that the mitzvah of study, prayer, and social justice work is not optional and that to be a light to the nations does not happen atomically, but takes perseverance, resilience and an open heart.  We Stand Here Today, open hearted and humbled knowing that there would be fewer people served, less joy, more alienation if Beth Am did not exist.

We stand here today because we know that to be a truly welcoming religious institution means that we not only have to say hello to each other in the hallways, but when we ask, “How are you?” we also actually listen to the answer.   We know that to call ourselves ‘welcoming’ can only be true if our souls meet in heart to heart contact with Hesed and Rachamim, as people who engage in acts of loving-kindness and compassion. Beth Am is welcoming.

We stand here today as a strong community where people come to feel better.  Healing of the spirt is not only about giving and receiving compassion it also includes sharing our simcha–joy.  When we celebrate our milestones together, our life cycle events and holiday festivals together, our spirits are lifted and we feel better.

We Stand here today as a community of learners who seek to know and understand from whence we came, and who are also aware that learning Torah and sacred texts serve us in every aspect of our lives.  We are the People of the Book and our sources provide us with an ethical and moral blueprint of how to live a life of purpose and value.

We Stand here today as a community that recognizes we are all created b‘tzelm Elohim, in the image of God and are thus obligated by mitzvot to take care of each other and the world.  This means that we help and it also means that we give tzadekah.  The Talmud teaches even the one who receives charity, is not exempt from giving and supporting the community.  So we give tzedakah and we devote time and energy to the Beth Am food pantry, to ongoing work for social justice including immigrant rights, ending hate crimes and anti-semetic rhetoric, and more. We have been leaders in the northwest suburbs on immigration rights, and in participating in the mitzvah, vahavta l’raecha kamocaha—love your neighbor as yourself  And so We Stand Here Today as a community who hears the commandment, v’ahavta l’reacha—to love the stranger as yourself. This afternoon will read from the holiness code, (Leviticus 19:33). Where we are commanded,  “When a stranger sojourns with you in your land, you shall do him no wrong.  The stranger who sojourns with you shall be to you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself for you were strangers in the land of Egypt. The stranger –is actually quite familiar to us, or should be. Our families came to this country from foreign lands, most of us seeking asylum from oppression, many of us made it into this country illegally.  We needed a place to be safe.  We experienced closed doors when shiploads of our people including our children, fleeing from the Nazis reached our shores only to be turned away and sent back to their deaths. Today we are in the midst of the worst global refugee crisis in recorded history and less than one percent of the world’s more than 60 million refugees will even have the chance at resettlement. We stand here today, people who are working together loving the stranger as we still, take care of one another.

We Stand here today as a community and citizens of this world that know that we do not exist alone, that there are other Truths that must be respected, and that the only way towards creating a more peaceful planet is to know the Other.  We are a community that engages in interfaith dialogue, programing that includes Jewish, Christian and Muslim youth with the Children of Abraham Coalition,  pulpit exchanges and trips to Israel with our non-Jewish brothers and sisters. We are a community that values all of us here together, the Jew and the Non-Jew alike.  We know that there are many interfaith families here at Beth Am and we are grateful to our non-Jewish family members who help raise our children, who are partners in showing our kids that they are part of a great people who love them and that they are loved and who take time and effort to see to it that our values are kept alive in their homes.

We Stand here knowing, lo alecha hamlacha ligmore… that it is not up to us to complete the task of repairing the world, but we are not exempt from it either.

The Story we live today is that We Are Standing. Together.  It could have been otherwise.

Asu Li Mikdash: We have built a sanctuary and have found that God works in our life and through each of us, is with us wherever we go.  And we are like Nachson.  Fearless people of faith who know that sometimes taking a risk and believing in ourselves and in the Holy One to guide us, brings forth outcomes beyond our expectations.  And Atem Nitzvam hayom, we Stand here today. How blessed are we that in answering the call to be a community of meaning and purpose, we have breathed new life into our home. And with this new life we have taken it upon ourselves to bring joy, healing, learning, friendship, kindness and justice into our lives and in the world.

This year we are welcoming many new members.   We are so pleased that you have joined our congregational family. I am glad you are with us.

We Stand here today as one congregational family, Beth Am– The house of the People.

May we be blessed with countless years of living biblical stories together.

[i] http://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2016/09/14/the-factors-driving-the-growth-of-religious-nones-in-the-u-s/

Posted in Congregation Beth Am, Fear, High Holidays, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

We Will Not Be Silent. A Rosh Hashanah Sermon 5778 delivered at Congregation Beth Am, Buffalo Grove, IL

Posted on September 21, 2017 by Rabbi Lisa Sari Bellows

My husband Kyle has been a cook county court house manager for many years. A few years ago Kyle was sitting in the chambers of a Latino Judge and saw a ram’s horn prominently displayed on the judge’s shelf.  Kyle commented that it was quite the Shofar.  The Judge was delighted to show off this prize, promptly took it down and began telling Kyle the unusual circumstances of how it came into his possession, yet how unfortunate it was that this particular ram’s horn was defective—it didn’t work. When Kyle looked at him incredulously, the Judge handed the horn to him and demanded that Kyle try it for himself.  Kyle did… he sounded the shofar!  “HEY! It works!” shouted the Judge! “Sure does! said Kyle” for he had sounded the Shofar for all to hear, right in the middle of the morning court call on the 30th floor of the Daley Center.

Most of us here this morning know that the Shofar always works–we just need to know how to elicit its call.  And when we are able to sound the great ram’s horn we have to listen to its blasts so that its sounds–its call, reverberates with in us and all around us.

The purpose of the call of the Shofar is, to awaken us to our lives, to call us into becoming our best selves, to remind us to turn and return to God.  The Shofar calls us to wake up to all that is around us:  to the good, to the beautiful, to that which gives us hope. The shofar also calls us to remember our purpose in life—to mend and to fix this broken world.  If there has ever been a time to wake up, that time is now.  Wake up to the poor, to the suffering, to the trauma of so many recently effected by natural disaster—by Harvey, by Irma, and the deadly earthquakes in Mexico. Wake up to the despicable rhetoric and hate crimes that are ever increasing all around us.  The Shofar calls us to wake up to injustice. And it calls us into action.

A couple of weeks ago I was invited to speak at an interfaith peace vigil in Arlington heights. It was in response to the disgraceful events in Charlottesville, Virginia and subsequent

promotions of hateful divisiveness that have sickened our Country’s collective sensibilities. A couple dozen religious leaders of suburban congregations of all faiths joined together to bring a message of hope, peace and healing. Many faith communities have taken strong stands against this pervasive societal ugliness of increasing hate mongering and we, the Jewish People are leaders in this movement for healing and helping to end acts of hatred.

Today I join scores of my Reform rabbinic colleagues across the nation in fulfillment of our sacred obligation to speak out against hate and injustice.  We can’t stand idly by and we won’t be silent. We call out to our leadership on every level, do the same! There is no two sides to hate, love is love and hate is hate. we cannot allow hate to tear apart our country. Many of us, myself included, want and so desperately need words of comfort and inspiration on this Rosh Hashanah. Many of  us might feel quite a bit of anxiety, wanting and needing reassurance that things are going be okay. I think things will become okay, but only if we help make them so. Today my reform rabbinic colleagues and I are asking all of us to do something to end the rising acts of hate in our country.

This sermon will not be a rebuke of conservative political ideology or sentiment. Let’s be clear, there has been a virtually unanimous voice from the Conservative establishment decrying the overt or covert support of racist fringe movements and this is a sermon purposed on the necessity for us to Wake Up and Rise Up during a period in our history where white supremacists have a direct line to the Whitehouse.

And where according to the Anti Defamation League, Anti-Semitic incidents in the U.S. surged more than one-third in 2016 and have jumped 86 percent in the first quarter of 2017. And in its annual Audit of Anti-Semitic Incidents, ADL reports that there has been a massive increase in the amount of harassment of American Jews, particularly since November, and a doubling in the amount of anti-Semitic bullying and vandalism at non-denominational K-12 grade schools[i]

My sermon this morning is based on a sermon written[ii] by and for the Central Conference of American Rabbis, The Reform Rabbinical union and it is the basis of sermons being delivered this year at synagogues throughout the United States. I have adapted and at times edited the CCAR sermon for us this morning.

The Talmud teaches, “If you see wrongdoing by a member of your household and you do not protest – you are held accountable.  And so it is in relation to the members of your city.  And so it is in relation to the world.” As Jews we are held accountable in ever-widening circles of responsibility to rebuke transgressors within our homes, in our community, in our world. One out-spoken medieval commentator teaches: we must voice hard truths even to those with great power, for “the whole people are punished for the sins of the king if they do not protest the king’s actions to him.”

Last week, Congress sent a resolution to the White House condemning the violence at the white nationalist rally in Virginia last month and urging President Trump to speak out against racist hate groups.  The legislation, which passed by unanimous consent in the Senate last Monday and in the House Tuesday, was to be presented yesterday to Trump for his signature in an effort by lawmakers to secure a more forceful denunciation of racist extremism from the president.

We, like the prophets before us, draw from the deepest wisdom of our tradition to deliver a stern warning against complacency and an impassioned call for action.  We call on all of us to rise up and say in thousands of ways, every day, as proud Jews and proud Americans:  “We will not tolerate the  dehumanization, degradation and stigmatization of whole categories of people in this nation. Every Jew, every woman, every Muslim, every LGBTQ, every disabled person, every black, brown, Asian, Caucasian human is beloved by God and precious in the Holy One’s sight.  We the people, all the people, are created b’tzelem elohim, in the image of the Divine.  All the people are worthy of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.”

The shofar calls to us this Rosh Hashanah and says! Wake UP! The shofar blasts begin with Tekiah!  a single shofar sound representing the sound of  Certainty:
As rabbis we are, from sea to shining sea, speaking to our congregations today in every accent of America with certainty to declare in unison: acts of hatred, intimidation and divisiveness… shall not be tolerated in these United States or any other place on this planet. We stand upon the shoulders of the sages, poets and rabbis in every generation who fought for freedom. We speak in memory of every Jew and in memory of all people who tragically and senselessly lost their lives at the hands of evil oppressors. We call on our political leaders; progressives and conservatives alike, to rigorously uphold the values brilliantly articulated in the founding documents of our country, the “immortal declaration” that all [people] are created equal.  We call on every elected leader to responsibly represent our country’s history and advance its noble visions of tolerance. On this first day of the New Year WE are “Proclaiming liberty throughout all the land” [Lev 25:10].

What is this country? Is it the country I know and love if discrimination and hate is welcomed and sanctioned?

             The next shofar sound is Shvarim, 3 shofar blasts representing the Sound of Brokenness: This call reminds us that there is brokenness in our world and in our hearts.
Something crumbled inside us when we watched the televised images of Charlottesville’s beautiful streets filled with hate-spewing, torch bearing marchers. This hatred is not remote from us.  It is also close to home.  Hatred is in the vandalizing of Mosques in Waukegan, Villa Park, and Peoria.  It hit even closer to home when the Chicago Loop synagogue and Anshe Emet Synagogue were vandalized with anti-Semitic symbols and messages painted on their walls.  It is close to home each time Rabbi Prass and I hear one of our Hebrew School student tell us about a swastika graffitied on their playground, on desks, and in textbooks, or anti-Semitic bullying they experienced at school.  It is brought even closer to home when each weekday morning I drop my twins off at their Day School, tell them I love them and to have a great day while an armed plain-clothed security officer holds the school doors open for them to enter.  Hatred is in our community and we see with our own eyes.

            How much more vandalism, how many clashes, how many more times will the wound of our generational trauma be opened.

We cannot accept or become accustomed to some warped version of “normal,” of racist and anti-Semitic acts or rallies popping in and out of breaking news cycles.  We should never grow numb to the brokenness that fosters ill will and the chutzpah of some to declare: You are less than us and we will not tolerate you in this land.  This story of hatred has played out for the past 2500 years of our history. It is familiar to us, it has been played out and it never ends well.

We have to allow our experience in history and our collective pain to fuel our resolve to respond – with peaceful protests, and with public calls for healing, by building alliances and by speaking in unison with other minorities and faith communities. Neither silence nor complacency nor waiting anxiously and fearfully for the next wounding event are options. Not for us.

Elie Wiesel, of blessed memory, possessed a rare understanding of unfathomable brokenness. His memorable words sound a warning to us today, he said, “We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented. Sometimes we must interfere.” May we never be neutral, never silent in the face of threats or of discrimination toward any. As our Psalmist teaches, Let us interfere as [rofei lishvurei lev] healers of the broken [hearted], and binders of their wounds.  (Psalm 147:3)

The great Rabbi Jeochim Prinz, a close friend and mentor to Dr. King, also stood up to hate. His courageous acts teach us that it is possible to act through our fear and that silence is never the answer.  Before he landed on the shores of this great country before he marched with Dr. Martin Luther King, he stood for justice and heard the sound of the shofar calls.  For In late 1930s Berlin, when then Nazi’s intruded into his worship one Friday evening at his Berlin reform synagogue, and marched down the aisle towards him, he stood tall, and said to the bearers of hate and darkness:  Go Home.  Go Home.  and That evening they did. Standing up to hate: sometimes it works immediately, sometimes it does not, but it is always the right thing to do.

The shofar calls, Truah, 9 short blasts, representing The Sound of Urgency: The hate rhetoric and hate crimes of these last few months are a wake-up call to our Jewish community. Racism is wrong whether it is explicitly anti-Semitic or not.  The Talmud teaches that God created us all from the first Adam so that no human being could ever say, “my lineage is greater than yours.” But just in case we thought the white supremacists were after someone else, or that the Confederate flag has nothing to do with modern day Nazi sympathizers, or that we are somehow safe, despite statistics that show us otherwise, those fiery torches illuminated another truth, one we learn and forget only to learn again this day: if one minority group’s rights are threatened, we are all threatened.  As Martin Luther King Jr. taught us, “We are all tied together in a single garment of destiny,” whether we are the least powerful or the most powerful person in our world.

Where Confederate flags are waved and displayed, where there is anti-Muslim, anti-immigrant rhetoric, where there is racism of any kind, and where pro-white nationalistic sentiments are declared, Jews are not safe. These beliefs are antithetical to the tolerant society that Jews require to thrive. Jews are high on the list of despised minority groups, for our sake, for the sake of all minorities, for the sake of all people, we have to take a stand against hate.  Because we know that Never again has happened again and again.

We at Beth Am will have opportunities together this year to help each other speak up and out and to work against hate. If you want to be a part of our social justice committee that works on combating anti-Semitism please send me an email or give a call.  Please look for a FB announcement on the Beth Am members FaceBook page for our next social justice meeting and action items.

Lastly, the Shofar sounds the great Tekiah Gedolah, a lengthy single sound representing The Endless Pursuit of Justice:

Tzedek tzedek tirdof the Torah admonishes: “Justice, justice you shall pursue, so that you may live and inherit the land which I, God, give to you.” Our sacred text reminds us that for a community truly to inherit its place in the world, thoughtful leaders at every level must be dedicated to equality and to unity. Every community relies on passionate and engaged citizens; it relies on you to be insistent advocates for tolerance and enduring kindness between the diverse peoples of our nation. To pursue justice is to create a society that protects and enlivens every citizen. May we be relentless, tireless builders of that society in our city and in our country, in this New Year.

May we be blessed with strength and courage in the New Year to do the next right thing when we hear hate mongers.  May this Day of Shofar Sounding inspire us to hear the call to right the wrongs and help heal our world.

Ken Yihu Ratzon.  May this be true.

 

 

 

 

[i] https://www.adl.org/news/press-releases/us-anti-semitic-incidents-spike-86-percent-so-far-in-2017

 

 

 

[ii] THE CCAR SERMON IN ENTIRITY: The Talmud teaches, “If you see wrongdoing by a member of your household and you do not protest – you are held accountable. And so it is in relation to the members of your city. And so it is in relation to the world.” As Jews we are held accountable in ever-widening circles of responsibility to rebuke transgressors within our homes, in our country, in our world. One chutzpadik medieval commentator teaches we must voice hard truths even to those with great power, for “the whole people are punished for the sins of the king if they do not protest the king’s actions to him.”

Today I speak words of protest, joining hundreds of my Reform rabbinic colleagues across the nation in fulfillment of our sacred obligation. We will not be silent. We will, without hesitation, decry the moral abdication of the President who fuels hatred and division in our beloved country. This is not a political statement. We, like the prophets before us, draw from the deepest wisdom of our tradition to deliver a stern warning against complacency and an impassioned call for action. We call on you to rise up and say in thousands of ways, every day, as proud Jews and proud Americans: “You cannot dehumanize, degrade and stigmatize whole categories of people in this nation. Every Jew, every Muslim, every gay, transgender, disabled, black, brown, white, woman, man and child is beloved of God and precious in the Holy One’s sight. We the people, all the people, are created b’tzelem elohim, in the image of the Divine. All the people are worthy of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.”

Rosh Hashanah is Yom Teruah, the Day of sounding the Shofar, whose piercing tones sound an alarm, express our fears and especially in these times compel us to respond with a resounding call for justice.

The shofar blasts: Tekiah [single shofar blast] The Sound of Certainty:
As rabbis we are, from sea to shining sea, speaking to our congregations in every accent of America to declare in unison: acts of hatred, intimidation and divisiveness will not be tolerated in these United States. We stand upon the shoulders of the sages, poets and rabbis in every generation who fought for freedom. We speak in memory of every Jew and in memory of all people who tragically and senselessly lost their lives at the hands of evil oppressors. We call on our political leaders; progressives and conservatives alike, to rigorously uphold the values brilliantly articulated in the founding documents of our country, the “immortal declaration” that all [men] people are created equal. We call on every elected leader to responsibly represent our country’s history and advance its noble visions of tolerance. On this first day of the New Year WE are “Proclaiming liberty throughout all the land” [Lev 25:10].

The shofar blasts: Shvarim [3 shofar blasts] The Sound of Brokenness:
Something crumbled inside us when we watched the televised images of Charlottesville’s beautiful streets filled with hate-spewing marchers. The wound reopened when [localize/personalize here] EX a few miles from our homes protestors from the right and left clashed violently in [Berkeley] OR a few miles from here in Boston the glass wall of a holocaust memorial was shattered OR a local mosque was attacked only a few miles from where we pray today. How much more vandalism, how many clashes, which other cities? We must not accept or become inured to some warped version of “normal,” of racist and anti-Semitic acts or rallies popping in and out of breaking news cycles. Let us never grow numb to the brokenness, but let
our pain fuel our vows to respond – with peaceful protests, and with public calls for healing, by building alliances and by speaking in unison with other minorities and faith communities. Neither silence nor complacency nor waiting anxiously and fearfully for the next wounding event are options. Not for us. Elie Wiesel, of blessed memory, possessed a rare understanding of unfathomable brokenness. His memorable words sound a warning to us today, “We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented. Sometimes we must interfere.” May we never be neutral, never silent in the face of threats or of discrimination toward any. Let us interfere as [rofei lishvurei lev] healers of the broken[hearted], and [u’mchabaysh l’atzvotahm], binders of their wounds.
Psalm 147:3 ׃ הָ֭רֹפֵא לִשְׁב֣וּרֵי לֵ֑ב וּ֝מְחַבֵּ֗שׁ לְעַצְּבֹותָֽם
The shofar blasts: Truah [9 short blasts] The Sound of Urgency:
The events of these simmering weeks are a wake-up call to our Jewish community. Racism is wrong whether it seeps into explicit anti-Semitism or not. The Talmud teaches that God created us all from the first Adam so that no human being could ever say, “my lineage is greater than yours.” But just in case we thought the white supremacists were after someone else, or that the Confederate flag has nothing to do with modern day Nazi sympathizers, or that we were somehow safe in the fact that most – but certainly not all – Jews in America are white, those fiery torches illuminated another truth, one we learn and forget only to learn again this day: if one minority group’s rights are threatened, we are all threatened. As Martin Luther King taught us, “We are all tied together in a single garment of destiny,” whether we are the least powerful or the most powerful person in our world.

The Shofar blasts: Tekiah Gdolah [lengthy single blast] The Endless Pursuit of Justice:
Tzedek tzedek tirdof the Torah admonishes: “Justice, justice you shall pursue, so that you may live and inherit the land which I, God, give to you.” Our sacred text reminds us that for a community truly to inherit its place in the world, thoughtful leaders at every level must be dedicated to equality and to unity. Every community relies on passionate and engaged citizens; it relies on you to be insistent advocates for tolerance and enduring kindness between the diverse peoples of our nation. To pursue justice is to create a society that protects and enlivens every citizen. Let us be relentless, tireless builders of that society in our city and in our country — in this New Year.

 

 

Posted in Anti Semitism, civil discourse, Fear, Hate, High Holidays, Jews and Trump, Peace Vigil, sermons, Shana Tova, Shofar, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Marching With The Next Generation: Women’s March Chicago 2017

Posted on January 22, 2017 by Rabbi Lisa Sari Bellows

My 12 year old says she doesn’t feel well and is not going to march. Her sister says the same thing and their brother says they must go. He yells at them, “All our rights are at stake!” After a few minutes of yelling to get into the car we are off! My husband is driver for the day—he drops us off at the Women’s March in Chicago and is available if we need him. In the car, we regroup.  I read my friend Rebecca’s article out-loud and we talk about how history proves that being silent is being part of the problem and how as Jews we can never be silent because when one person’s rights are threatened, all are threatened. We can never take freedom for granted.

We get to the rally. We get pins that say, “Girl Power” and “Love Trumps Hate” and other slogans that I won’t write here…. The kids are excited to be a part of this historic event, proud to be speaking up and out! Periodically, my son spontaneously yells into the crowd “I’m mad as hell and we aren’t going to take it anymore!!” He gets applause and high-fives. He smiles and keeps on walking. My daughters chant about immigration rights and each feels free enough to shout her own slogans about rights and freedom and we walk together with hundreds of thousands of people. My kids know they are doing the right thing. They are moved by participating in democracy. They even have a group hug. I repeat: my children hug each other. Although I am angry that we have to be marching in the first place, yesterday was one of the best days I can remember.img_3790

 

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AFTER THE GRIEF

Posted on November 9, 2016 by Rabbi Lisa Sari Bellows

The feelings of anger and despair I have will in time morph into action and revolutionary love. We are strong and courageous and in this together and right and there are too many people who need us. We need us. It is not easy, but I don’t think we have any choice but to F.E.A.R: Face Everything And Rise. This is the only answer now and always…one breath at a time.

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Don’t Throw A Good Wish Away: A Yom Kippur Morning Sermon

Posted on October 13, 2016 by Rabbi Lisa Sari Bellows

There is a story told of a simple man, living in a simple village. His name was Itzik. He was a man who loved God and devoted his life to the care of his synagogue and his family and his community. Each morning he worked as a baker, each afternoon he would spend some time with his wife and children and some time immersed in the study of Jewish texts, and each evening he would go to the synagogue to clean up, dusting the shelves, straightening the books. It was always dark by the time he got there, but he would light some candles and go about his business.

One evening, when the sky was clear and the moon shone brightly, Itzik went over to the shul for some housekeeping.   But on this night, he kept hearing a noise – a faint cry –coming from the holy ark. Itzik stepped closer and closer – and as he did the sound grew louder and louder. Then Itzik saw a light appear from the cracks of the ark, and he opened the doors, and was almost blinded by the brightest light he had ever seen. Itzik yelled out, “Who’s there? Who is this?” And a soft voice came out from the ark, and said, “I am an angel, a messenger from God, and I have come to offer you one wish.”

“A wish? What kind of wish? Why me?” And the angel responded softly, “The heavens have taken note of how dedicated and kind you are, and you are being given one wish and one wish only – as a reward for your good deed. You may wish for anything you want – the choice is yours. I shall return tomorrow night, and you will tell me what you desire.” Poof – and just like that, the light disappeared. Itzik thought it might be some kind of dream, and he ran home to his wife and children – but he thought better of it and told no one of the encounter.

The rest of the night, he lay awake in bed deciding what his wish should be – he laid out the pros and the cons of each option. And all during the next day at work baking, while he was with his family, while he was studying text, he pondered his choices. When the sun went down, Itzik closed his books of study, picked up a broom, and began to clean the shul. Right on schedule, the moaning and crying began again – and when the light came forth from the cracks of the ark, Itzik opened the doors, and the angel again spoke from the light.

“Itzik,” said the angel, “have you decided on your wish?” And with a quivering voice, Itzik responded. “I have been thinking about this all night and all day and let me tell you – it has not been an easy choice. At first, I wanted to ask for money – lots of it – I could buy fancy clothes and donate a large sum to tzedakah. But then I thought about it, and I realized that although I am a simple baker, I have enough money to buy clothes and food for my family, we have a small but loving house, and I give what I can to tzedakah now. And so I realized that I should not ask for money, because although I am not rich, I am comfortable.

Then I was going to ask for fame. It would be nice to be famous – everyone would know who I am – and everyone would respect me. But fame is fleeting – and why do I need to be famous? I am needed here in this town, for my family, for the bakery, for the shul. And although no one knows me outside of this village, I am comfortable with that.

Then, I was thinking about asking for wisdom, but I spend every day reading the texts of our tradition. I grow in wisdom with every word on every page. And I love to study. If I was wise all of a sudden from this wish, what need would I have to study? I would miss that. And although I am not the smartest person in this village, I am comfortable with that.

And so, dear angel, I wish for nothing. I do not need money, or fame, or wisdom. I am comfortable with who I am and what I do. Since I do not need anything, I will not wish for anything. God has blessed me with all that I need and want. Thank you, but no thank you.”

At that very second, the light went out in the ark and the angel disappeared. Itzik felt proud of his decision. But as soon as he picked up his broom and began to sweep the floor, he heard another voice crying. But this time it was coming from the back of shul. He lit some more candles, and he saw sitting in the back row was the rabbi – the wonderful rebbe – and he was crying. Startled, Itzik asked what the rabbi was doing there at this hour. The rabbi told him that he had witnessed the whole encounter Itzik had with the angel. Itzik stood upright, ready to be praised by the rebbe for his selflessness, but the rabbi kept on crying. Itzik asked the rabbi what was wrong, and the rabbi said, “Itzik, you were given a gift – any wish that you wanted – and it would be fulfilled from the high heavens – you could have wished for anything, and yet you refused and said you needed nothing.” As the rabbis tears fell down his cheek, Itzik asked, “What was wrong with what I said?”

At that moment, the rabbi stood up and said, “Itzik you are a very selfish man.” “but rebbe, why do you think that? I am a humble man who is content to live in a modest way.” Itzik replied. “Itzik,” said the rabbi, “you could have wished for an end to hunger – and no one on this planet would go to bed without food tonight. You could have wished for an end to war – and it would have been granted – and nations would have beat their spears into pruning-hooks, they would have beat their swords into plow-shares – no one would ever die in a senseless war again. You could have wished for an end to all disease – no one would ever again suffer from affliction and die before their time. Itzik, you could have changed the world with your wish. But you were comfortable, and so you squandered a gift for all humanity. That is why I am crying. We lost a chance at improving our world because you were too comfortable.” And with that, the rabbi left the shul. Itzik thought about the rabbi’s words began to cry. And as the angels in heaven witnessed this, they too, began to cry, and their tears came down as rain upon the little village.

Now is the time for asking. Asking for forgiveness, asking ourselves what could we have done better? Where did we fall short? Now is the time for returning, for searching our souls and making an accounting of all the ways we have settled. Settled in to the status quo, settled in and ignored the needy, neglected our synagogue, our community, the poor, the suffering. We are supposed to be uncomfortable today not because Judaism encourages us to feel badly about ourselves – but just the opposite. Judaism gives us this time to reflect in order to better ourselves – to make the effort to become more loving, more generous, more just. Today we are reminded that being comfortable is not the point of our life. It is nice if it happens but comfort cannot be at the expense of seeing the suffering and heading the call to Tikkun Olam, to fix this broken world.

Often we do not take full advantage of the gift that Judaism offers because – like Itzik in the story – we are comfortable enough with our lives as they are … or, and perhaps this is the more likely story, the process of looking at our lives and souls in such an honest and “stripped of all pretenses/excuses” way moves us from a place of relative comfort to a place of great discomfort … and who among us wants to be uncomfortable if we don’t have to.

But here we are, in synagogue, praying a liturgy that will soon remind us that the gates are closing; that this holy day is for each of us to feel a little uncomfortable. Uncomfortable at how quick we are to judge others sternly without fully knowing them. Uncomfortable with how easily our attentions can get diverted from those who need us most. Uncomfortable with the way we deflect our responsibility for the ills of the world by blaming them on politicians, or the rich, or the poor … or thinking because we didn’t cause the problem, or that it doesn’t effect us, that it is not our problem! Uncomfortable with the silence we keep in the face of increasing hostility and violence and injustice.

Today, the holiest day of our year is not only a most auspicious time, it’s not only a time to feel remorse or uncomfortable, today is an opportunity. An opportunity, as our Torah portion urges us, to choose life for ourselves and for the world.  In this morning’s torah portion we read, “Atem Nitzvaim hayom! “You stand today, all of you, before the Lord your God; your heads, your tribes, your elders, your officers, and every Israelite; your young ones, your wives, the stranger in your gate; from your wood hewer to your water-drawer….I have set before you life and goodness, and death and evil…Life and death I have set before you, blessing and curse. And you shall choose Life.”

No matter our circumstance, no matter our challenges or how much we might feel we are living in darkness. No matter if we believe nothing could possibility get better with our life, that our lives of filled with ease and contentment, there is always more life to be lived! Each day, a new opportunity to live in relationship with our world, to exist with open eyes and hearts and not turn away to the call of what begs our attention. Today we can be make a commitment to risk and feel uncomfortable so that we will seize the opportunity to be moved into action. Action for blessing and so we choose life! Atem Nitzvim hayom. We stand here and we stand up this day and ask, What will our life be filled with? Will it be filled with missed opportunities to bring love into the world, into our family, our community?

Standing up means asking, are our eyes are open to the reality around us, to pain and to suffering, to the cries of those in need.

Standing up means we believe we are loved even when we don’t feel like we are, and that we have a responsibility to build this world through love. We are loved and we give that love back to the universe and so we choose life and blessing.

Atem nitzvaim hayom! We stand up and we take a stand against hate, injustice and bigotry.

Every Friday night at our worship service I read the names of those who died during the past week in Chicago gun violence. A few months ago, as I was reading close to 30 names, I thought to myself, “This is not good enough! I cant read one more name.” As I continued reading, I found myself feeling ill, physically ill. Reading the names to promote awareness of gun violence means nothing unless I am willing to do something to stop it, without working to prevent their deaths in the first place.” A group of concerned Beth Am members met with me after services that night to see what we could do, beyond just reading the names of each week’s victims. For starters, we settled on finding out more about the victims—that their lives should not go unnoticed, but this is still not good enough. To take a stand means to work for the end of gun violence. And to this end I have had an initial meeting with United Power, a non-partisan community organization composed of 40 religious congregations, not-for-profit groups, hospitals, health centers and civic organizations from across the area. United Power is an affiliate of the Do Not Stand Idly By Campaign, launched by faith leaders and citizens it is based on two simple premises:

  1. We can’t end the plague of gun violence in America until the manufacturers of guns make safety and responsible sales among their highest priorities.
  2. The companies that step up to lead in these areas will thrive.  They’ll tap a growing demand for safety, and expand their market share among major public-sector gun buyers.

United Power is also involved with procuring affordable housing and health care for those in need.[i] Standing up means being part of the solution and choosing life. I would like Beth Am to be a member organization of United Power. If you are interested in helping make this happen, please email me or let me know.

Standing up is about being counted and this year it means that each one of us, who can, must vote. Beth Am is part of the Union of Reform Judaism get out the vote drive, titled, Nitzvaim. There is more information about the campaign on our Facebook page and we have voter registration forms on the back table in the foyer should you need. Stand up and be counted. Everyone one of us matters and so does our vote.

Standing up mean heeding the call: Never Again! Here, standing up does not only mean agreeing with the concept of Never Again it means doing something about it. Stand up to bullies whether they are on the schoolyard or in our public life. Stand up to people who try to intimidate and belittle, who do not see that all people are created equal, and who do not act with justice and decency first.

And be aware that if your intuition tells you that someone in a position of power is not safe, pay attention! If someone presents dangerous view points, spews hatred and not love, who tears people down instead of building them up, do not ignore or dismiss your reaction, but stand up! Speak out! And help stop this person and his rhetoric before it is too late.

Next month in New York city, The Anti-Defamation League, the ADL, is hosting a summit called Never is Now. They note, “At a time when anti-Semitism is experiencing resurgence around the world, when some Jewish communities in Europe feel pressured by anti-Jewish scapegoating and terrorism motivated by fundamentalist Islam and hate groups and a time when Israel is faced with a campaign of boycotts, sanctions and divestment like never before, THE TIME IS NOW to convene some of the world’s leading experts to address some of the urgent challenges facing the Jewish people and to identify new strategies to stop anti-Semitism.

The resurgence of anti-Semitism is happening and we have to stand up because indeed Never is Now. And we can not be silent.

We have a most magnificent opportunity—no an obligation not only this day, but everyday to choose life: to stand up this day and know that our voice matters and we are builders and healers in this world.

This day may we commit to standing up more than we did yesterday. This day may we stand up and be a voice of good and an agent of Tikkun Olam, fixing the world, even, no especially, if it makes us uncomfortable.

Itzik did have everything he needed. He showed gratitude for certain, yet he did not walk with open eyes and ears, his heart was not dedicated to fixing, but it was rather content in maintaining his status quo. May our gratitude be used to push through our compliancy and contentment. The world, our families, our community, our synagogue and the Jewish People need us to stand up. This day. We stand together and choose life and blessing.

 

Ken Yihe Ratzon. May this be God’s will.

 

 

[i] United Power http://www.united-power.org

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Fear: Face Everything And Rise: A Kol Nidre Sermon

Posted on October 13, 2016 by Rabbi Lisa Sari Bellows

Do you remember the Billy Crystal movie, Mr. Saturday Night? Billy Crystal plays Buddy and David Paymer plays his brother Stan. As kids, they put together vaudeville routines and performed at family get-togethers, but when they finally get their chance to perform for an audience, Stan becomes paralyzed by fear. His brother Buddy goes on to become a star, while Stan works as his agent. When Stan meets the girl of his dreams, he again succumbs to fear and is unable to ask her out, however Buddy does and eventually they marry. Stan’s fear causes him to live bitterly in his brother’s shadow, watching resentfully as his brother Buddy lives the life he wished for himself. The sad ironic message is that in action because of fear of failure is what actually causes the failure.

F.E.A.R: Forget Everything And Run. Tomorrow afternoon we will read the story of Jonah, the prophet called by God to admonish the Ninavites to repent or suffer the consequences. Jonah, like all prophets, had absolutely no desire to be a part of this plan. Who would, when you think about it? The prophets where charged with the unpopular task of telling the people they had to stop doing something that they enjoyed. Jonah was afraid to deliver God’s message and tried to flee. He escaped by boat, hopeing that God would not find him. But God brought a great storm to the seas and Jonah was thrown overboard, swallowed by a whale who eventually spewed poor Jonah out onto dry land. Eventually Jonah had no choice but to meet his fear and fulfill his prophetic obligation.

Jonah ran from his fears and he spent a lot of unnecessary time running and hiding, trying to escape from God, from his fear, from the unknown.   Yet he still wound up having to do the very thing he was afraid to do. What a waste of time and effort! How many of us can relate to Jonah? Putting off what we are afraid of and then having to do it or experience it anyway?

Fear. It is a helpful emotion when it saves us from entering a dangerous situation, or alerts us to danger. Fear is a basic physiological response that has existed long before humans walked the earth. It is the foundation of the “fight or flight response,” a primitive, automatic, innate response that alerts our body to either fight or flee from perceived danger, attack or threat to our survival.   When our fight or flight instinct is activated, we do whatever we can to escape danger. This basic instinct has helped keep us alive…. But as humans began to settle and attacks by wild beasts and barbaric neighbors became less the norm, the helpful fear instinct mutated and evolved. It’s permutation took the form of panic, apprehension, self-consciousness—all useful to a certain point. Today however the flight or fight response is activated by many things other than real threats to our safety. Hormones produced in our bodies by stress, for example, activate the fear response.[1] When we operate in fear mode—we see most everything as a threat to our survival and we lose our sense of rationality and view the world from a place of danger and vulnerability and we are unable to feel a sense of safety. We push panic past the point of prudence to a place of paralysis.

We all have fears; we are afraid of a loved one getting hurt, or God forbid, dying, we are afraid of getting older, of losing our job, of not making ends meet, we are afraid for the safety of our communities. We are afraid of what might come from out of the complex and tragic political climate in which we live, we are afraid of the violence ravaging our cities and suburbs, of terrorism, of global warming… the list is endless. We also have fears born from the flight or fight response that have blurred our lines of reality today and causes us to run and hide, rather than be still and face our fears. Our rational being is often consumed by fears about what other people think of us, about what they might say to others about us, we fear we are not good enough, that we won’t ever fit in, that we will never find our purpose in life, and that others will laugh at us. These kinds of fears too, limit our potential, stop our behaving in compassionate and loving ways and therefore are stumbling-blocks, preventing us from living our best lives.

We could spend our energies in fear: F.E.A.R FORGET EVERYTHING AND RUN or we could F.E.AR. – FACE EVERYTHING AND RISE. Facing our fears and rising above them certainly takes courage –that strange energy that fuels us to act in the face of danger, but more significantly it takes awareness and stillness. We cannot just decide to create more courage, but we can consciously chose to slow down, collect ourselves and not act impulsively. If we do this, then we will be able to pass through our fears and be our best selves.

If we are human, we have fears. What matters, teaches Reb Nachman is that we know that we fear, and we do not let our fears limit us, we do not let fear get the best of us. Rabbi Nachman of Braslov wrote, K’she’adam, tzarich l’avor gesher tzar moed… the well-known translation of this is “all the world is a narrow bridge, the most important thing is not to be afraid.” However, a more exact translation is: “When a person must cross an exceedingly narrow bridge, the general principle and the essential thing is not to frighten yourself at all.”[2] In other words, do not bring fear to yourself. Reb Nachman knew that we do not succeed from a place of fear. Fear will hold us back; an awareness of love that only comes from stillness will hold us. Fear is about scarcity and being alone. Love is about abundance and connection. Connection to others, the Holy One and ourselves.

There is perhaps no more common a verse in our Tanach, our Bible from God than, “Al tirau”, do not fear. When Avram sets out to an unknown land, God says to him, “Al tirau, do not fear, I am with you.” (Genesis 15: 1-5)

When God heard the cry of thirst from a dying Ishmael, an angel of God called to Hagar, “Al tirau, Fear not, for God has heeded the cry of the boy….” (Genesis 21:17):

When Isaac sets out alone to build new wells, God said, “Al tirau …Fear not, for I am with you.” (Genesis 26:24):

When Jacob prepares for Journey down to Egypt to see his beloved son Joseph for the first time in decades God says, “Al tirau, Do not fear going down to Egypt, I am going with you….” (Genesis 46:3): God says “Do Not Fear” to David, to Ruth, to Daniel (10:19) and to the prophet Isaiah (41:10). God says “Al tirau” to them and to us: do not fear, I am with you. God offers this statement of love as Love itself.

It is not easy to face everything and rise but the Torah teach us how.

In the book of Exodus, we read, “As Pharaoh drew near, the Israelites caught sight of the Egyptians advancing upon them. Greatly frightened, the Israelites cried out to Adonai, ‘We want to go back to Egypt how could you do this to us! Fear and trembling set in and Moses replied: “Have no fear![3] Stand by, and collect yourselves, and see the deliverance, which Adonai will work for you today… be still.. Hold your peace. These few verses, Rabbi Alan Lew of Blessed Memory, teaches are a working prescription for managing fear.[4] Let’s unpack if for a moment. The Israelites Cry out, they are afraid, and they are panicking! Caught in between the Egyptian army and the Sea that has not yet parted, God calls out to them: “Al tirau!” Don’t be afraid! Don’t let your fear stop you from moving forward! Do not succumb to your fears! Do not let fear control you. God begs, “Al-tirau—do not fear,” you are not alone. Next God says, “Collect yourselves.” Pull yourselves together. Release into this fear and notice it. Return to the self, for I am there, with you, says God. The Israelites are then asked to See. “See” the salvation which Adonai will make for you today….Adonai will fight for you and it will be okay! And then we are commanded to be still. Do not fear, collect yourselves, see and be still. Here, it is our time to return to the self. Quiet the mind and come back to the breath. Stop talking; quiet the thoughts and the worry. SHHH. Lastly God asks Moses, “Why do you cry out to me? Tell the Israelites to just get going.[5] Give in to the action that is the next right step. We do not stay in a place of stillness, but rather after we collect ourselves, notice what it is that we fear, and return back to the self, only then can we get going. Sometimes we get going after the fear subsides; sometimes we get going and walk on the narrow bridge, through the fears.

Similarly to our Torah teaching, theologian Henri Nouwen writes:

The challenge is to let go of fear and claim the deeper truth of who I am.  When you forget your true identity as a beloved child of God, you lose your way in life.  You become scared and start doing things not freely, but because of fear.  But when you make space for God in your life and begin to listen to God’s loving voice, you suddenly start to realize perfect love. You can claim it, and you can gradually let go of your fear.  The fear may come back tomorrow and you will have to struggle, and you can again return from fear to love.  Every time you feel afraid, you can open yourself to God’s presence, hear God’s voice again, and be brought back to perfect love that casts out fear and brings in greater freedom.[6]

It get’s easier to live through fear the more we do it. Our Torah teaches how, and reminds us that there is no one, no one at all, exempt from fear. This is one of the reasons why in our bedtime prayers we recite a paragraph, the same paragraph as the one the ends the hymn Adon Olam: “In Your hand I place my sprit, when I sleep and when I wake. With my spirit, my body too, God is mine, God is near, I shall not fear.”[7] Fear is inevitable and part of our life and God knows this and asks us to trust enough to hear the voice whispering to us, al tirau, do not be afraid, I am with you. Collect yourself, see and be still. And get going.

As we walk across the exceedingly narrow bridge that is our life May each of us be blessed with the ability to hear the eternal truth, al tirau—do not be afraid, for I am with you.

[1] The Developing Mind: How Relationships and the Brain Interact to Shape Who We Are, Second Edition. By Daniel J. Siegel

[2] Likutei Moharan (II:48)

[3] 14:10-14

[4] Be Still and Get Going: A Jewish Meditation Practice For Real Life. By Alan Lew.

[5] ibid

[6] Spiritual Formation: Following The Movements of the Spirit. Henri Nouwen.

7] Psalm 118:6

Posted in Fear, High Holidays, holidays, Love, Mindfulness, sermons, Shana Tova, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Rosh Hashanah: Come to Shul!

Posted on October 3, 2016 by Rabbi Lisa Sari Bellows

Rosh Hashanah: Be Here Now

When the kids were younger, going to Beth Am on Friday night was a big deal, they loved it. So much so that if I was really struggling with them I would threaten them and say they would be punished and couldn’t go with me to temple on Friday night. Not really great parenting, using temple as a bargaining chip, but it was the only thing that worked. This was before they had cell-phones, before they were so exhausted from the week that going to shul became more difficult. I remember now how much they got-and still get from going to shul. On Fridays, on holidays, especially the high holidays, they look forward to coming to temple.

A couple of weeks ago (9/15/16) Rabbi Jay Michaelson, in the Jewish Forward newspaper, wrote an article on why you should not go to shul on Rosh Hashanah. He writes,

“There are at least three reasons for you to avoid your local temple or synagogue this Rosh Hashanah. First, the holiday’s themes and liturgy focus on the least believable, most misunderstandable aspects of Jewish theology. Sure, introspection is great, and asking for forgiveness from friends and relatives can be extremely powerful. But the Man in the Sky with the big Book of Life? The Birthday of the World? Who are we kidding here? Does anyone believe this stuff?”

He continues,

“Second, Rosh Hashanah is a series of mixed messages. The day itself is confused, an amalgam of celebration and repentance, conviviality and sobriety. Are we supposed to celebrate the Birthday of the World or get busy with apologizing to God? Do we wish each other a happy new year or a serious, pious new year?”

Michaelson concludes with an argument that the high holidays are just a show more than anything else.

So, he states three reasons to stay home: 1. The holiday themes of The Book of Life and Birthday of the world are not believable. 2. Rosh Hashanah gives us mixed messages. It is a holy day of contradictions and 3. Worship on the holy days is more of a show than of a prayerful experience.

Most of Jay Michaelson’s points are actually right on target but his conclusion is wrong. He is both misguided and a bit of a truth teller. I want to explore with you tonight Jay Michaelson’s admonition to boycott the holidays… especially now that we are all here!

I think it is true that many of us here will pray words that we don’t connect to, that might not make much sense in the context of our busy lives. Prayer does go against our rationality, but after all, that might be the very definition of prayer. On some level many of us believe that prayers go mostly unheard or that prayer just helps the pray-er feel better. Some of us don’t know why we pray yet we find ourselves relating to the words in the siddur and even noticing prayers of our heart when we are quiet enough to listen. On Friday nights we read in Mishkan Tefillah, our prayer book, “Prayer invites God’s Presence to suffuse our spirits. God’s will to prevail in our lives. Prayer may not bring water to parched fields, nor mend a broken bridge, nor rebuild a ruined city, but prayer can water an arid soul, mend a broken heart, rebuild a weakened will. (165) If this is all that prayer does for us, dayinu-it is enough. It is enough and it is a reason to come to shul.

Praying together can be powerful and it is another way of reminding us that we are not alone in this world. We are part of something bigger and greater than ourselves.

Michaelson is correct when he notes that our prayers in the machzor, the High Holiday prayer book, might not be relatable, or accessible. This year more reform congregations have transitioned from the Gates of Repentance book that we are using this year, to the new Reform Machzor, Mishkan HaNefesh, a two volume set that is extraordinary beautiful in language, layout and accessibility. Beth Am’s ritual committee will begin next month to explore our new machzor study the feasibility of joining our area synagogues in using it next year.

Michaelson is also mostly correct I think, when he flippantly notes that most of us don’t believe in the Man in the Sky and a literal Book of Life. To this point I ask, “so what?” Why must we believe this to come to shul? I do have a strong faith and theology of a loving God who hears my prayers and I do not believe in the existence of the literal Book of Life that we all so desperately want to be written into.

And yet whether or not we attend shul on the holydays, we offer the words, L’shana Tovah Tikatavu. “May you be inscribed for a good year.”   We don’t take everything literally in our lives and this Rosh Hashanah salutation that has been with our people seemingly since the days of Mt. Sinai, is no exception. We do not have to believe in the theology that we are literally inscribed by God for a new year. In fact, there is nowhere in Torah that says “Thou shalt believe in God.” It assumes we have faith. And it is our faith, our hope that we will have a good year, a better year, which brings us here together. Religion is not based on rationality. Coming to the synagogue at this time, wishing each other well and a L’shana Tova Tikatavu helps us reaffirm our Jewishness and connectedness to our history as well. We share something that has been passed down by our ancestors when we sing L’shana Tova Tikatavu together and when we congregate and wish each other a happy new year, and offer a blessing for more time.

Rabbi Michaelson’s second challenge to us: that the holidays are of mixed messages is true and it is also irrelevant to an argument that seeks to convince us to stay home on Rosh Hashanah. It’s 2016! We live lives of mixed messages.  We are experts at multi-tasking, we thrive on busy-ness and we all live in a world that is telling us we should be individuals and celebrate our differences, that we should be proud of who we are and yet we are often punished and even killed for such a celebration.   Yes, our world is one of mixed messages! How great it is that we can be in shul together on Rosh Hashanah, incorporating all the messages while away from demands, expectations and obligations; away from the world where we are rewarded for doing and attaining more and more. No, whether we read the words on the prayer book page or whether we close our eyes and rest while with our community in shul, we are here, acknowledging that it is exhausting to live in our world of mixed messages. Here and today we slow down and begin to focus on what really matters. You see, we can distill all the mixed messages into one that is most basic and fundamental, and the very point of this Holy Day. The message of this day says, slow down and return. Return to the Source that is within us and all around us. There is no mixed message to the holy days. Rather there is only one message expressed in many different ways so that we might all have access to it. Whether we sing Happy Birthday to the world or we beat our chest at the ashmu prayer that reminds us of all our waywardness, the message of Rosh Hashanah is clear. Return. God does not care how much money we make or what we wear. What matters is Teffillah~prayer, Tzedkah~ giving charity and Tesuvah, returning. We celebrate and we remember and we return. One message. I do not believe we should stay away from shul because we might experience a mixed message here. On the contrary, come to shul on the high holidays so we can hear the message delivered in several different ways.

Lastly, Rabbi Michaelson says that Rosh Hashanah is more of a show than worship. He writes, “Before the High Holidays, my rabbi and cantor friends spend weeks practicing every detail of the services, like b’nai mitzvah with receding hairlines.”

Here, Michaelson is right too– this IS the most stressful time of year for rabbis and cantors. It is also a time that we, leaders of sacred communities, are required to think hard and long about what it is that we want to say, to offer and we ask ourselves, how might our prayersong or words speak to people so that we might be inspired to live more meaningful lives and help mend this world. I think Michaelson is wrong to poke fun of rabbis rehearsing. After all, these High Holidays are about showing up—all of us—showing up. And your clergy want to show up to you who mean so very much to them. It is hard to lead worship and so we rehearse. Rehearsing and preparing are aspects of this blessed profession that the vast majority of us wouldn’t give up for anything.

Michaelson writes, “Take the High Holidays out of context, and you’re left with a religion of finger-wagging. The guilt; the sins; the chest-beating….!”

I think today the Judaism of finger wagging and guilt inducing, is over, done-with, or it should be. I wouldn’t ask anyone to come to a shul that did that. One of the first things Kyle shared with me about his Judaism growing up was that his rabbi gave finger-pointing sermons and families would just get up and leave. I don’t know rabbis today who do that kind of preaching or have that kind of rabbinate—although I am sure they exist. Our holidays are about recognizing that we miss the mark—about transgression and asking forgiveness. We cannot live a good life with out admitting our guilt. That we are wrong sometimes, that we did something we shouldn’t have done, that we didn’t do something we should have, and that we didn’t do enough! Surely this is a holdy day about guilt, but it doesn’t end there. There are things we feel guilty about and what better way to deal with guilt than to admit to ourselves how we feel and be in connection with others who are also guilty, also asking for forgiveness. What do we do with guilt on the Holy Days? We get rid of it! We admit it, say we are sorry and then try not to do it again. Yes! We have failings and they can be pointed out! However, our fundamental essence is good and we come here on these days to renew in ourselves an awareness of our innate goodness. And anyone who shames you, makes you feel guilty for who you are and not what you have done, who wags their figure at you is wrong and that is not the message of Rosh Hashanah.

And still, Rabbi Michaelson does like other Jewish holidays. He recommends Sukkot, Passover and Shabbat for their joyous and life affirming qualities. I certainly agree—Sukkot and Simchat Torah are often missed because they come right on the heels of the Days of Awe. It is a shame because they are joyful and beautiful; celebrating life, gratitude and all that we have been given. If you have never been in a sukkah or danced with the Torah on Simchat Torah—try it with us this year!

Tomorrow we will hear the call of the shofar together: Together in synagogue on Rosh Hashanah. Together we will worship, repent, transform and renew. We will be grateful for the past year and express hopes for a healthy, blessed year ahead. We will note the auspiciousness of these days and maybe even feel holy ourselves.

I am glad you are here.

L’shana Tova Tikatavu. May this coming year be of blessing for each of us, our loved ones and our sacred congregation.

Ken Yihi Razton.

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in High Holidays, holidays, jewish stories, parenting, prayer, sermons, Shana Tova, Teshuva, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment