Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Kol Nidre Sermon

KOL NIDRE 5771

The two main characters in Mitch Albom’s “Have a Little Faith” are Rabbi Al Lewis, who I’ll talk about tomorrow and the Reverend Henry Covington, Senior Pastor of Pilgrim Church/I am My Brother's Keeper Ministries. Over many years Albom has become a supporter of the Church. The pastor and the writer talked week after week, visit after visit, as Albom came to know and trust him, and share the ministry's needs with readers who flooded in to help. Covington, meanwhile, says he kept the Jewish writer in his prayers, trusting God will do what He wills when God chooses.

Meanwhile, they focused on their biblical common ground and the relentless challenges before the faithful. In the book, Covington tells Albom, "What I do here, every day, for the rest of my life, is only my way of saying, 'Lord, regardless of what eternity holds for me, let me give something back to you. I know it don't even no scorecard. But let me make something of my life before I go.' "

And he befriended one particular homeless guy, a crack addict, named Cass, who was in an apartment, and Covington said to him, “You know, I can help you out if you need to, I can give you a job, you can help me unload the food trucks.” And Cass said, “Sure, I can do that.”

Unfortunately, Cass had a unique distribution system. It was one for the church, two for Cass. And he would take these things and sell them off and buy drugs. Henry could have said, “Be gone with you.” But he didn’t trap a man in his past, because he had been there himself. And so he waited, and waited. And one night someone broke into Cass’s apartment where he’d been squatting, stole the pipes for the copper, burst the water main and Cass woke up face down in water floating out of the apartment. He came to Henry the next morning and said, “Pastor, I can’t work for you today, because these are the only clothes I own and they are all soaked.”

Henry gave him new clothes. For the first time in three years the man had clean underwear. Then he said, “Cass, where will you live?” Cass said, “I ain’t got no place to live.” Henry thought for a moment and he said, “Why don’t you live with me?” and that night he moved this virtual stranger into his home, his tiny home, and the one available couch that they had, while Henry, his wife and his three children lived upstairs. Not for a night, not for a week, but for a year. An entire year. Until Cass was able to straighten his life out. And today, many years later, Cass is not only clean and sober, but he is an elder of the church.

And he is married, has a daughter. She was born prematurely, weighing only a couple of pounds. The doctors said she probably wouldn’t make it – but her parents prayed and she pulled though and now she is a ball of energy with a grin that could lure the cookies out of the jar. She’s at the church almost every night. She skips between the tables of the homeless and lets them rub her head playfully. Her father is one-legged man named Cass and her mother is a former addict named Marlene. They were married in the I Am My Brother’s Keeper church; Pastor Covington officiated. Her name, fittingly, is ‘Miracle.’ The human spirit is a thing to behold. All because of the kindness of one man, who refused to trap a man in his past. And showed he had faith in mankind.

Not only do we live with change, not only must we change, but positive change is possible.

Miraculous changes do happen. When I was ordained almost 30 years ago, it seemed like every bright sensitive young Jews was going to Nepal and becoming a JewBu. Today Hollywood celebrities are studying Kabbalah. Who could have foreseen a generation ago that Chabad Houses would be almost as commonplace around the world as Starbucks.

A year ago at this service I spoke at length about our experiment CE21 – Congregational Education in the 21st Century. After months of groundwork, the highlight of our efforts last year was the 8 conversations we had with groups of about 10 members in each. I think we spoke with a good sampling of our congregation. One of the most powerful things that we learned in our CE21 conversations was – the community who some of us thought we are … is not the community everyone enjoys. As is often the case, our greatest strengths are our greatest weaknesses. We are a warm and friendly community, but sometimes only to our core members. It’s often hard to break into the circle of friendships and relationships. In many ways we’re pretty good with families with kids – and sadly but not a surprise: not so great with empty nesters, even less engaging with singles in their 20s and 30s.

It’s caused me to really look in the mirror: Are we really there for our members? Do we really provide the opportunities for people to experience the richness of Jewish life on their own terms? ///

So: Where is CE21 going? In the coming year we will be working to design new models of learning for every age and background in our community. We know we need a new model to engage everyone from our youngest child to our oldest senior, from the person who attended Camp Ramah or Day School to someone who never even attended Sunday School.

I don’t know exactly what the model will be, but I hope to be a participant in a new way to learn that’s more like Jewish camp and less sitting at a table or desk. We do need to sometimes sit and master skills and information – but it is so much easier to understand and enjoy when we learn in a life experience and even better in an immersion experience. In so many conversations we heard about peak spiritual moments that were part of organic Jewish living: simchas, youth groups, family gathering – and never heard about a spiritual high in a frontal classroom setting.

From our conversations we’ve developed what I hope will be some attractive opportunities to grow Jewishly, most through experience, what we’ve called at CE21 “low hanging fruit.”

First, in the RS (we’ve developed with several other synagogues and received grant money from Federation) for Tiyyulim – literally trips. After Bnai Mitzvah some of our teens remain active in youth groups but don’t commit to come every Tuesday night for Upper School. Once a month Tiyyulim provides the opportunity for a teenager to be with other teens, to go to a location of Jewish interest and experience, to have a good time and learn a little. Our Upper School students are automatically enrolled in this program. If you have or know a teen who’s not experiencing Jewish life and community – give Mindy Silverstein a call.

2) Melton – one of the great Jewish learning experiences for adults in recent years is the Florence Melton Adult Mini-School program. Their slogan: give us two hours a week and we’ll give you 3,000 years. In conjunction with Congregation Or Chadash 10 minutes from here just off of 27 near Damascus, we’re offering a Taste of Melton: 15 sessions twice a month on Monday night instead of the full course. It is a challenging and inspiring and user-friendly course to build a strong foundation of Jewish learning to your daily life. There are flyers and booklets with more info
HANDS – interest?

3) I’ve thought for many years about a way to both train torah readers but also express our appreciation to the many people who read Torah in the sanctuary or in Junior Congregation. Next month there will be a first meeting of our Torah Readers Club. We’ll meet a few times a year to discuss aspects of reading in our sacred scroll, also find ways of sharing our love of reciting God’s words and finally celebrate during the year the joys of participating in sacred service through reading in the Torah.

We have an amazing, authentic, traditional Conservative worship here on Shabbat. One of the most important things we knew, but also heard over and over in our conversations is that the Saturday Morning service is too long and inaccessible. And there is simply not enough time in the year to come to a class that would help someone with the learning curve. And Jr. Congregation & Tot Shabbat are not for everyone. So: I’m putting on the table two new worship models.

a) What we’re calling for now a Satellite Service. I have four families who have volunteered their homes in the Up-County area for a one-hour long service from 10:30-11:30 AM every other month for people of all ages. The service will be the essentials of the Saturday morning liturgy, learning a little about the service and instead of a Torah reading: a dramatic/role-playing/ or reflective experience about the weekly portion. Of course, there will be refreshments after the service and a chance to meet and get to know others who want this spiritual experience.
INTEREST? Hands?

Last: similar but different location. One of the questions we’ve been asking ourselves: Is this building and this location itself an impediment to exciting, vital spiritual community? I’m also offering a few times during the year an Alternative Torah Service and prayers in the Social Hall during the Main Service. It will run from 10:30-11:15 doing the minimal requirements of the Morning Service and utilizing for adults biblio-drama, Storatelling and drama like Sidrah Scenes to reflect and learn from the Parshat Hashavua. After the service you can join back for the sermon and Musaf in the Main Sanctuary or have a light snack and enjoy Shabbat in your own way.
INTEREST? HANDS?

The most important thing about all of these experiments is that they are intentional about building relationships, about building community. And to do it right, we also need to empower and train others to lead these kind of learning and living experiences. What makes a faith community unique is the quest for sacred relationship with God which is most frequently found in the caring relationship we have with our friends in the synagogue fraternity. Without that sense of belonging, a sense of hevrah, we’re just consumers buying a service, a class, a celebration. And while that’s all some people want, most of us, I truly believe, want experiences that are significant and holy. Those moments Jewishly are almost always found as individual who is immersed in a community that feels like a family. ///

Shifting from the communal journey to the personal quest…
I conclude with a story about the journey to the sacred. Rabbi Brad Artson shares a moving story about his own ‘recalculating’ experience. When he was a student at the Jewish Theological Seminary he envied the many students whose fathers or grandfathers were rabbis and scholars. He did not come from a family of Jewish scholars and he determined that when he had children he would learn with them so that they would carry with them a legacy he never had. He and his wife were blessed with twins. His daughter, who has grown into a kind and compassionate young woman, was never interested in the intellectual pursuits of her father. And his son was diagnosed with autism. Rabbi Artson poignantly tells how he inferred from his children that God had given a thumbs down to his desire to create a hevruta, a study partnership, with his children. He grieved over that. But when his son became a bar mitzvah he asked his father to study Torah with him in preparation for the day. Rabbi Artson began to study with his son and they have continued to study the parasha every week. Rabbi Artson concludes that what he perceived as God’s dismissal of his dream was only due to his preconceived notion of what the fulfillment of that dream would look like. He had to “recalculate” what it meant for his dream to be actualized.

What I find so valuable in Rabbi Artson’s story is first that he comes to recognize that his blessings are right in front of his nose. So many of us consider our lives to be only partially fulfilled because our dreams go unsatisfied, but often they are not unsatisfied, it is simply that we repel what is staring us in the face because it does not fit our preconceived notion of what we thought the fulfillment of the dream would look like.

A second lesson that I draw from Rabbi Artson is that he did not despair when he thought his dream would not be achieved. For he continued to teach, and to learn Torah and he is recognized today as one of the premier teachers of Torah to American Jewry. Until his “Aha” moment when he realized that his dream had actually been achieved, he never stopped pursuing his commitment to spreading Torah to a contemporary audience. His personal disappointment did not undermine his belief in his ultimate ideals and values.

This kept him centered and whole. For most of us, our emotional pain comes from the gap between what we think we should be and who we truly are. We hold an image of ourselves that is imposed upon us by our parents, our society, by our status, by our dreams. But we live over here. Instead of appreciating who we are and what our uniqueness is, we are constantly striving to live the image of ourselves. And the gap between who we are and who we think we should be is the source of much of our pain and deters us from truly appreciating the blessings that constitute our lives.

I hope you will take advantage of the synagogue this year. Don’t be surprised if you receive a call from someone requesting your participation in something we thing you’d enjoy. And also don’t be afraid to call me, a member of the staff, Carrier Ettinger, Karen Klemow, or any other member of the Board or School Board with a way to connect to God and to old or new friends. Miracles do happen – because we are God’s hands in this word to heal the world and to find joy and inspiration in our daily lives.

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