The Danger of Iran

In several cities around the country today there were rallies to mobilize and publicize about our concerns that Iran constructing nuclear weapons. Our government needs to act with other countries in preventing a clear and present danger.
The Iranian regime under President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad has become a growing threat to the security and stability of the Middle East and the world. Its support of terrorist organizations such as Hamas, Hezbollah, Islamic Jihad and other similar organizations undermine efforts to achieve peaceful resolutions to local conflicts, and contribute to religious and factional violence that threaten American troops and Israel.
President Ahmadinejad vitriolic rhetoric of Holocaust Denial and affirming the need to destroy the State of Israel may seem ridiculous to many, but are still dangerous. Some may believe that his words are simply political leverage and propaganda - but too often words lead to hate, violence and death.
If these statements are true ... a nuclear capable Iran would be a threat to Israel and US troops and interests in the Middle East, but to the stability of the entire world. While there are disagreements over when they will achieve nuclear independence, there is little debate over their true objective. Whatever the time-line, efforts must be increased to stop Iran from successfully becoming a nuclear power.

My Story Part 2 (From Rosh Hashanah 2nd Day Sermon)

I have learned from life experience that we are not only motivated by love and joy, but also by pain and sadness. In recent years I’ve come to understand my life journey as being connected with another experience in my adolescence – the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King. I grew up in Westbury LI, from my perspective (right or wrong) an ideal integrated community. It was around 15% Jewish, 35% Italian and 25% African-American. We played in each other’s homes and went to each other’s churches and when I look at my Bar Mitzvah movies from 1965, I see an amazing mix of creed and color. In April 1968 though it ended when MLK was murdered. An African-American friend’s mother called early the next morning and said not to go to school that day because there was going to be trouble. There was that day and on other days. But what is most sad to me is that I never played at Gary Oliver’s house again, nor did he come to my home. I’ve always wondered who was out there trying; healing the pain and sealing the breach in our community. The pain of that loss of idealized community is a driving force in me to create a diverse and caring community in the three synagogues where I have served as spiritual leader. I know now, that the ecumenical and social justice work, which has always been a major focus of my ministry, is in a strange, but beautiful way driven by a vision of experiencing as a child the divine spark in every person regardless of religion or race.

Before I continue, I’ll ask you to reflect for a moment about similar experiences in your lives. What are the core moments that set you on the path you have lived? What was the moment of joy, which made you who you are? What is the experience of pain for which you cope and compensate?

My Story Part 1 (From Rosh Hashanah 2nd Day Sermon)

For most of my life, I told my story by remembering how I fell in love with the music of synagogue as a child, enjoying Junior Congregation and then the Adult Service. In 1966 I began attending Camp Ramah and in my second summer I had a life changing moment! One morning in July 1967 during morning prayers I felt the Shechinah … God’s Presence. We davened that summer, 170 campers plus staff, in the very large room which the previous summer had been the B side dining room. Inside, it was disgusting … with meals from food fights embedded in the ceiling, walls and windows. But that morning I felt something invisible float into the room. It entered from the windows to my right, surrounded me with what I can only describe as a cloud of unconditional love, stayed a few seconds and then I could sense it floating out the other windows, over the lake of the camp and then over the other hill – until I could sense it no more. 10 seconds that made me who I am. Being a rationalist I’ve always had my doubts about that moment. [Maybe I ate something bad the at dinner the night before) Years later I learned about the Shechinah – that God’s presence is like a mother’s love and that it can encompass you completely and flow through you… I strive to recreate that moment, it hasn’t happened in 42 years, but I keep myself open to the possibility. Despite all my questions and doubts, that moment lives inside me with a certitude that there is something out there that really does care, really wants things to be right and wants us to be partners in achieving those kind and just ends. I always knew I would be in some kind of helping profession (my sisters are too) but combining that with my love of Judaism has filled me with meaning and joy.

Back to Unataneh Tokef

I've been reciting "Who Shall Live and Who Shall Die...," but "repentance, prayer and good deeds..." with some intention for 40 or so years, certainly at least the 28 years I've been ordained as a rabbi. Yet I've never noticed the last sentence of the prayer: "And you have linked our name with Yours."
The soon-to-be released Conservative Mahzor adds a commentary: "Which name of God is alluded to here? ... Some say this alludes to the thirteen attributes of God's graciousness. More likely it refers to the unpronounceable four-letter name of God YHWH. The ending of the word Israel is another name for God, El... By being linked to God's name, Israel become the 'eternal people,' and partakes of God's timeless nature."

The half of this prayer encourages us to change before it's too late, before our time is up and that God is waiting for us to return. When I think about immortality - I have confidence in physical, genetic immortality. That through my son - I will live on (someday but not too soon, I hope). I also do believe in a kind of spiritual immortality. I believe that the goodness of my life is a guarantor of continued life - not be me personally, but through the effects of touching others, especially loved ones and friends. That's kind of like Kohelet, Ecclesiastes, who says "eat your bread in gladness and drink your wine in joy, for your action was long ago approved by God." Breaking bread, sharing good times with good people, does live on - it gets (I hope) passed on generation to generation.
Finally, also at the end Ecclesiastes, but clearly here at the end of Unataneh Tokef: linking ourselves to God - by listening to God's teachings and living them - connects us to the Power that Cannot Die. We are finite - but our connection to God is everlasting through God's eternality. There is a part of God in all of us - our spirit, our minds, our souls. Through it we do on occasion connect with the Spirit of the Universe. The last line is a final reminder: we are finite, but we also transcend death through the way we live our lives and connect with God.

Iran - Threat of Nuclear Capability

I attended the first half of the "National Jewish Advocacy Day on Iran" this morning in DC. We had briefings from Congressional leadership, from the Administration, and from some of the leaders and experts in the Jewish community. The central theme, which has also appeared in the news, was the frightening threat which a nuclear capable Iran would represent to Israel, to the Middle East, to the US and to the World.
As we think about the regime in Iran we know a country that sponsors terrorism (Hezbollah), that denies human rights (treatment of its own citizens), and that promulgates the worst vitriolic anti-Semitic statements (denying the Holocaust and openly articulating the destruction of Israel). To imagine such a state possessing nuclear weapons is a clear and present danger. Even if these weapons were never used - the mere capability would change the dynamics of the the Persian Gulf and the world. More frightening, on some level, is the truth, as we have learned from history, that genocidal ideas are too often implemented.
The administration has been trying to engage the Iranians without success. There are bills in process in both houses of Congress to increase sanctions in conjunction with the international community. Perhaps a stick or a carrot can change their path. We know that the clock is ticking - we need to support our government together with other countries in doing the negotiations and the pressure [and whatever is necessary] to prevent Iran's possession of nuclear bombs.

Transforming the Severity of Life

Last week I participated in a teleconference from my professional union, the Rabbinical Assembly, about the new mahzor (high holiday prayerbook) which will be out next year but has drafts for us. I am going to compose a series of short blogs based on some of the teachings we shared in the new volume.

I've always been moved by Unataneh Tokef ("Who shall live and who shall die') with its metaphor of the "Book of Life." I've always felt the hope of the keynote line "but teshuvah, tefillah and tzedakah maaveerin et roa hagezayrah." But repentance, prayer and righteousness can avert the severity of the decree.
The new machzor modified the second part of the translation to: "have the power to transform the harshness of our destiny." We don't have the power to prevent or change the accidents that occur in life. What befalls us through the power of nature or the mistakes of other human beings is not in our control. Yet our ability to change our selves, to reflect and dream, and to do acts of goodness and kindness - can make a difference. Our attitude regarding what happens to us is part of our coping mechanism. Our ability to hope in the face of pain and despair is in large measure in our control. And our gifts of love and kindness are often reciprocated by others so that we are surrounded by devotion when we are in sorrow or pain.
The power to cope and the wonder of transformation are the gifts of the life of the spirit which we articulate powerfully during the High Holidays.

Awesome Love of the High Holidays (Bulletin article)

The keynote prayer of the Musaf Amidah on the High Holidays is Unataneh Tokef. Written according to tradition by Rabbi Amnon of Mayence on his deathbed, it depicts us standing in the heavenly court – awaiting judgment: who will live and who will die!? Over the years I/we have grappled with the fatalistic nature of the prayer. Is our physical fate really sealed by the past and our repentance process during the Days of Awe?
In the past I understood the prayer as a metaphor for consequential living. The past does impact the present and the future. The quality and the quantity of our lives are certainly determined by the choices we make: taking care of our selves, how we treat others, and our quest for intellectual and spiritual sustenance.
After 9/11 we spoke about how this prayer articulates for us all the things that are not in our control. What happens to us through nature and the actions of others (and maybe God) is not determined by us. We have the ability to accept, cope and heal from the pain and suffering which is found in our world – but we have little power over what actually happens to us. Only, our spiritual responses to life: repentance, prayer, righteousness - are in our control.
As I study this year for the holidays, I want to expand the metaphor of God sitting in judgment over us. I still find this theme powerful as a tool to personal transformation. Yet the idea of heavenly tribunal should not only be viewed in terms of “punishment.” A tribunal is also, often for moments of meaningful joy, such as a conversion.
This is an equally powerful image to one of justice and punishment. Conversion is a transformational moment. Filled with awe and love a person becomes a Jew-by-choice. This is true today in our time and place for all Jews – living Jewishly is a personal choice. The rituals of conversion are a moment filled with love for Jewish life and hope for a future filled with God’s presence. The Beit Din (Rabbinic Court) for a conversion is rite of welcome to community. Having completed the process of study and rituals of Jewish citizenship – the convert celebrates their new status and affirms their identity. The tears of someone who is named with his/her Jewish name as part of the ritual – are tears filled with joy and God’s love. Maybe that’s the feeling we should experience in synagogue during this High Holiday season. We stand as Jews by choice in front of God who welcomes us in love to share the joys of Jewish spirituality. I pray we will feel that Presence during the holy days and in the coming year.