Boston is beautiful right now, autumn is crisp, the air is clear and winter is coming. This picture is a perfect example of classic New England in the fall, its the court house, on Chestnut Hill.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
POTD
Boston is beautiful right now, autumn is crisp, the air is clear and winter is coming. This picture is a perfect example of classic New England in the fall, its the court house, on Chestnut Hill.
Threat tests Boston Jews’ security measures
From, The Herald, Threat tests Boston Jews’ security measures
An interesting article about emergency alert coordination of Boston's Jewish community.
“We’re fortunate to live in a community where there is tremendous collaboration, cooperation and trust between the Jewish community and the government,” - JEMS founder Patty Jacobson
An interesting article about emergency alert coordination of Boston's Jewish community.
“We’re fortunate to live in a community where there is tremendous collaboration, cooperation and trust between the Jewish community and the government,” - JEMS founder Patty Jacobson
Monday, October 25, 2010
Where is your god now?
“Where is your god now?”
This phrase was uttered to me recently by my mother. It’s a difficult phrase, one that has not been far from my mind since it was throw out at me. It was said in pain and anger so I’m trying not to dwell on it, chalking it up to the pain of possibly losing a close friend. For you see I’m been praying for quite sometime for someone who is by all accounts, dying.
It is not easy to experience the pain and suffering that come from a long drawn out death and even while I write this I’m cautioned from sounding too certain that death will be the ultimate outcome of this struggle. But I can hear it on my mother’s voice when we talk about it, her feelings of the inevitability of this outcome for her friend. My first reaction was “it isn’t my god, its just god, your god, mine, everyone’s” but I held off on the snarky comment that was itching to pop out.
In the course of our talk I happened to mention to my mother that I’d been praying for her friend to which those words were then thrown out at me “yeah well it doesn’t seem to be doing much good…where is your god now?” I could hear the sarcasm, the naivety and the pain underling those words. Its hard enough I’m sure for my mother to deal with the pain that I know she’s feeling. The pain that I can do nothing to ease but say I love you, I’m here for you and yes I’m praying for your friend. I wish that my prayers would be answered but I’ve never been naive enough to think that I’ll get everything I want or that I can even approach knowing what purpose this pain serves.
Questions about why good things happen to bad people and why bad things happen to good people have been pondered by people far greater then myself throughout the centuries. At one point in my life I thought that somehow understanding that there is a plan, that good is not always rewarded with good and that we are merely dust in the wind would somehow make me feel better in times of pain and sorrow. But for me knowing why does no such thing, there is a disconnect between my intellectual ability to know why and my emotional feelings of but why me? Why now? I tried to convey all this to my non-believing mother with little success. I could hear the bitterness in her voice, and I understood. But still its hard not to feel in moments like this that she does not understand my commitment to an observant life. I’ve learned through experience that non-believers seem to think that leading an observant life, dedicating ones life to god is an escape, that it’s a shield used to deflect facing up to the grim realities of life. For me it has never been this way in fact it just the opposite. Being observant doesn’t let me run away from the harsh realities of life: it forces me to confront them.
Everyday in the early hours of dawn I think of my mother’s friend and others, fighting for their lives. I take time in my prayers to ask god that they be given the strength and courage to keep going and to overcome the sickness that’s ravaging their bodies. I don’t know what the outcome will be, that I leave up to god. What I do know is that in asking for them to be granted all those things I am reminded of them myself, and it makes me more aware and more easily able to face my own battles each and every day armed with those tools.
The Chief Rabbi of England Jonathan Sacks says that prayer is not about transforming the world around us, it’s about transforming ourselves. That through this internal transformation we can bring about a transformation in the world around us. It is impossible on an emotional level to truly understand the place of suffering in this world. But that shouldn’t stop us from fighting, from living, from laughing and from thanking god each and everyday for each and every moment we’re given, and that is exactly where my god can be found.
L’Shalom
This phrase was uttered to me recently by my mother. It’s a difficult phrase, one that has not been far from my mind since it was throw out at me. It was said in pain and anger so I’m trying not to dwell on it, chalking it up to the pain of possibly losing a close friend. For you see I’m been praying for quite sometime for someone who is by all accounts, dying.
It is not easy to experience the pain and suffering that come from a long drawn out death and even while I write this I’m cautioned from sounding too certain that death will be the ultimate outcome of this struggle. But I can hear it on my mother’s voice when we talk about it, her feelings of the inevitability of this outcome for her friend. My first reaction was “it isn’t my god, its just god, your god, mine, everyone’s” but I held off on the snarky comment that was itching to pop out.
In the course of our talk I happened to mention to my mother that I’d been praying for her friend to which those words were then thrown out at me “yeah well it doesn’t seem to be doing much good…where is your god now?” I could hear the sarcasm, the naivety and the pain underling those words. Its hard enough I’m sure for my mother to deal with the pain that I know she’s feeling. The pain that I can do nothing to ease but say I love you, I’m here for you and yes I’m praying for your friend. I wish that my prayers would be answered but I’ve never been naive enough to think that I’ll get everything I want or that I can even approach knowing what purpose this pain serves.
Questions about why good things happen to bad people and why bad things happen to good people have been pondered by people far greater then myself throughout the centuries. At one point in my life I thought that somehow understanding that there is a plan, that good is not always rewarded with good and that we are merely dust in the wind would somehow make me feel better in times of pain and sorrow. But for me knowing why does no such thing, there is a disconnect between my intellectual ability to know why and my emotional feelings of but why me? Why now? I tried to convey all this to my non-believing mother with little success. I could hear the bitterness in her voice, and I understood. But still its hard not to feel in moments like this that she does not understand my commitment to an observant life. I’ve learned through experience that non-believers seem to think that leading an observant life, dedicating ones life to god is an escape, that it’s a shield used to deflect facing up to the grim realities of life. For me it has never been this way in fact it just the opposite. Being observant doesn’t let me run away from the harsh realities of life: it forces me to confront them.
Everyday in the early hours of dawn I think of my mother’s friend and others, fighting for their lives. I take time in my prayers to ask god that they be given the strength and courage to keep going and to overcome the sickness that’s ravaging their bodies. I don’t know what the outcome will be, that I leave up to god. What I do know is that in asking for them to be granted all those things I am reminded of them myself, and it makes me more aware and more easily able to face my own battles each and every day armed with those tools.
The Chief Rabbi of England Jonathan Sacks says that prayer is not about transforming the world around us, it’s about transforming ourselves. That through this internal transformation we can bring about a transformation in the world around us. It is impossible on an emotional level to truly understand the place of suffering in this world. But that shouldn’t stop us from fighting, from living, from laughing and from thanking god each and everyday for each and every moment we’re given, and that is exactly where my god can be found.
L’Shalom
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Who does Israel belong to?
An Israeli Sense of Humor at UN set the record straight.
An ingenious example of speech and politics occurred recently in the United Nations Assembly and made the world community smile.
A representative from Israel began: 'Before beginning my talk I want to tell you something about Moses: When he struck the rock and it brought forth water, he thought, 'What a good opportunity to have a bath!'
Moses removed his clothes, put them aside on the rock and entered the water. When he got out and wanted to dress, his clothes had vanished. A Palestinian had stolen them!
The Palestinian representative jumped up furiously and shouted, 'What are you talking about? The Palestinians weren't even there then.'
The Israeli representative smiled and said, 'And now that we have made that clear, I will begin my speech...'
An ingenious example of speech and politics occurred recently in the United Nations Assembly and made the world community smile.
A representative from Israel began: 'Before beginning my talk I want to tell you something about Moses: When he struck the rock and it brought forth water, he thought, 'What a good opportunity to have a bath!'
Moses removed his clothes, put them aside on the rock and entered the water. When he got out and wanted to dress, his clothes had vanished. A Palestinian had stolen them!
The Palestinian representative jumped up furiously and shouted, 'What are you talking about? The Palestinians weren't even there then.'
The Israeli representative smiled and said, 'And now that we have made that clear, I will begin my speech...'
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Thinking outside of the box
Is it possible to be both ‘liberal’ and ‘frum’, I’m asking this question not because its incredibly original but because one of my best friends from yeshiva and I often have this conversation. It’s a tired subject in many ways but for those of us who have spent time learning Torah, who have made difficult and often painful changes to our lives in response to what we’ve learned it’s a pertinent question.
The short answer is yes it is possible, the easiest way to do it when someone asks about a controversial issue like gay marriage, or evolution or anything else is to say I don’t personally agree with it but everyone is entitled to their opinion. Its how I’ve managed to reconcile the opposition to many decisions I’ve made, you don’t have to agree you just have to accept that I’m making a valid choice for myself and I’m not asking you to make the same decision or to agree with me, just to accept me.
So again I ask the question is it possible to believe in the Torah, to accept it as truth, to live by it and still accept people who live in ways that are against it?
For this I’d like to point to a few sources first is Dov Bear, a wonderful writer who is both a god fearing Jew and a liberal, to quote:
My next source is Rabbi Schmuley Botach in is most recent article title “No Holds Barred: The Jewish view of homosexuality” he writes:
The short answer is yes it is possible, the easiest way to do it when someone asks about a controversial issue like gay marriage, or evolution or anything else is to say I don’t personally agree with it but everyone is entitled to their opinion. Its how I’ve managed to reconcile the opposition to many decisions I’ve made, you don’t have to agree you just have to accept that I’m making a valid choice for myself and I’m not asking you to make the same decision or to agree with me, just to accept me.
So again I ask the question is it possible to believe in the Torah, to accept it as truth, to live by it and still accept people who live in ways that are against it?
For this I’d like to point to a few sources first is Dov Bear, a wonderful writer who is both a god fearing Jew and a liberal, to quote:
Rav Sa'adya Gaon states in Emunot v'Deyot 7:2 there are four conditions under which the Torah is not to be taken according to its literal meaning (1) When the plain meaning is rejected by common experience, or your senses; (2) When it is repudiated by obvious logic; (3) When it is contradicted by scripture; or (4) When it is opposed by tradition.
My next source is Rabbi Schmuley Botach in is most recent article title “No Holds Barred: The Jewish view of homosexuality” he writes:
People of faith insist that homosexuality is the most serious of sins because the Bible calls it an abomination.Next up is the Rationalist Jew who quotes Rav Hirsh on the theory of evolution:
But the word appears approximately 122 times in the Bible. Eating nonkosher food is an abomination (Deuteronomy 14:3). A woman returning to her first husband after being married in the interim is an abomination (Deut. 24:4). And bringing a blemished sacrifice on God’s altar is an abomination (Deut. 17:1.). Proverbs goes so far as to label envy, lying and gossip as that which “the Lord hates and are an abomination to Him” (3:32, 16:22).
As an Orthodox rabbi who reveres the Bible, I do not deny the biblical prohibition on male same-sex relationships. Rather, I simply place it in context.
There are 613 commandments in the Torah. One is to refrain from gay sex. Another is for men and women to marry and have children. So when Jewish gay couples come to me for counselling and tell me they have never been attracted to the opposite sex in their entire lives and are desperately alone, I tell them, “You have 611 commandments left. That should keep you busy. Now, go create a kosher home with a mezuza on the door. Turn off the TV on the Sabbath and share your festive meal with many guests. Put on tefillin and pray to God three times a day, for you are His beloved children. He desires you and seeks you out.”
The mistake of so many well-meaning people of faith is to believe that homosexuality is a moral rather than a religious sin. A moral sin involves injury to an innocent party. But who is being harmed when two, unattached, consenting adults are in a relationship? Rather, homosexuality is akin to the prohibition of lighting fire on the Sabbath or eating bread during Passover. There is nothing immoral about it, but it violates the divine will.
Even if this notion were ever to gain complete acceptance by the scientific world, Jewish thought, unlike the reasoning of the high priest of that nation (probably a reference to Thomas Huxley, who advocated Darwinism with missionary fervor—N.S.), would nonetheless never summon us to revere a still extant representative of this primal form (an ape—N.S.) as the supposed ancestor of us all. Rather, Judaism in that case would call upon its adherents to give even greater reverence than ever before to the one, sole God Who, in His boundless creative wisdom and eternal omnipotence, needed to bring into existence no more than one single, amorphous nucleus, and one single law of “adaptation and heredity” in order to bring forth, from what seemed chaos but was in fact a very definite order, the infinite variety of species we know today, each with its unique characteristics that sets it apart from all other creatures. (“The Educational Value of Judaism,” Collected Writings, vol. VII, p. 264)To wrap this up, does one have to be a conservative to be an observant Jew? Absolutely not, all one must do it accept gods sovereignty, accept the Torah’s law as binding, and do their best to live their life accordingly, the rest is commentary.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Choose Life
In Deuteronomy 30:19, ha kadosh baruch hu says, "I call this day upon heaven and earth as witnesses. I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse. Choose life." A religious person might read the words "life" and "blessing" as refering to Torah and Mitzvot, and "death" and "curse" as referring to doing sins to disconnecting oneself from Torah and Mitzvot.
Chassidus teaches us that life and death, blessing and curse, are not two separate entities from which we must choose. But in fact the Torah is telling us something much deeper: that everything in existence has life and death in it. The external of something is the death of that thing, and the internal of something is the life of it.
Judaism is not something we do. It's who we are and the Torah and Mitzvot connect us to that innermost part of ourselves. Choose life, L'shalom.
Chassidus teaches us that life and death, blessing and curse, are not two separate entities from which we must choose. But in fact the Torah is telling us something much deeper: that everything in existence has life and death in it. The external of something is the death of that thing, and the internal of something is the life of it.
Judaism is not something we do. It's who we are and the Torah and Mitzvot connect us to that innermost part of ourselves. Choose life, L'shalom.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
The Israel Lobby
I used to be a big fan of Andrew Sullivan and to this day still agree with much of his politics. However over the course of the last two years I’ve stopped reading his blog. I thought for a while I could just read it and ignore what I see as fundamentally flawed ideas. But in the end I’m an economist and I get that what I read, what I “pay” for (be it in time, money, etc) is ultimately who I am. So I quit reading his stuff, his feelings about Israel and the “Israel Lobby” in America have the ability to fuel what I see as a dangerous sentiments for the Jewish communities both at home and abroad.
Jeffery Goldberg and I feel similarly. Recently he wrote a lengthy response to Mr. Sullivan about one of his comments, below is an excerpt that I plucked out that has an undeniable ring of truth.
Jeffery Goldberg and I feel similarly. Recently he wrote a lengthy response to Mr. Sullivan about one of his comments, below is an excerpt that I plucked out that has an undeniable ring of truth.
I think that critics of the "Jewish lobby" not only demonize Jewish participation in the democratic process, they fundamentally misunderstand the way powerful lobbies succeed: Lobbies succeed when they push on open doors. The NRA (which is a more powerful lobby than AIPAC, IMHO) succeeds in large part because the majority of America believes in gun rights as the NRA frames the issue. Similarly, I believe that AIPAC is pushing on open doors in Congress because the majority of Americans, polls show, are intuitively more sympathetic to Israel than to Israel's enemies. I don't believe, as AIPAC's critics do, that AIPAC creates pro-Israel legislation; I believe that pro-Israel feeling creates pro-Israel legislation. AIPAC organizes the feeling, buttresses the feeling, rewards the feeling, but I think it is obviously true that if Israel were truly unpopular in America, it would be unpopular in Congress.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Creation is our responsibility
Wisdom on parshas Noach from the Lubavitcher Rebbe:
According to the Torah, the world was created by G-d using the Name "Elokim". The Name used in reference to Noach, however, is the ineffable name of G-d that cannot be pronounced.
Elokim, has the numerical equivalent of the Hebrew word for "nature," and represents a level of holiness that is limited. Whereas G-d's ineffable name (yud - hey - vav - hey) represents a level above all limitations.
We learn from this that the world, as it was created without man's contribution, has the potential for only a limited revelation of G-dliness. It is solely through the service of man that the higher, infinite and unlimited revelation of G-dliness is achieved.
According to the Torah, the world was created by G-d using the Name "Elokim". The Name used in reference to Noach, however, is the ineffable name of G-d that cannot be pronounced.
Elokim, has the numerical equivalent of the Hebrew word for "nature," and represents a level of holiness that is limited. Whereas G-d's ineffable name (yud - hey - vav - hey) represents a level above all limitations.
We learn from this that the world, as it was created without man's contribution, has the potential for only a limited revelation of G-dliness. It is solely through the service of man that the higher, infinite and unlimited revelation of G-dliness is achieved.
Monday, October 4, 2010
In the Beginning of wisdom
I love autumn, I love waking up before the sun and feeling the cold seep through the windows (please check back with me in a month and a half when I’ll be cursing out the rain, sleet and snow that follows here in the great white north) autumn brings with it the annual cycle of holidays and a lost month of September. It was truly a crazy month and now I’m sitting and reflecting as I tend to do asking myself what did I learn? How did I grow? I’m not sure I have clear answers to anything most of the time. But these holidays and the way they are arranged do give a person the chance to spend time reflecting on themselves and on the year that was.
This is what I learned: I’ve grown a lot. Last year I had trouble following the services. If I got lost in the prayers I’d have to wait for a Kaddish or ask someone next to me where we were in order to get back on track. This year I could find my way back fairly quickly, I was even the one keeping many of those around me at the right spot. This is largely to do my command of Hebrew getting much, much better. I still have a long way to go on it but I’m getting there. Sometimes it’s hard to see but I realized this month that I can read fairly well even if I get nervous when reading out loud or for a crowd. That goes along with this observation: I’ve become more confident in my observance. I’ve learned when it’s okay to tell people to get off my back and when I need to accept a push or a prod. It hasn’t been easy. I still fight with my Rabbis and with my old friends and family seemingly about everything. There are still misunderstandings and tensions because I’ve made the choice to move from my old secular existence in the pursuit of an observant life. But it has its rewards as well.
Like experiencing for the second time the rapture that goes with making it through Yom Kippur, the ecstasy of the Neliah service at the end of the day when we trust that our prayers and confessions have been heard and accepted. I also built my first sukkah and was delighted to get to invite my neighbors to dwell in it with me (even if we did get rained out). Finally last week the final farewell for this holiday season came with Simchat Torah and with it the adventure of finding a new minyan, and the experience of feeling really connected with a new group of people. Getting to dance with the Torah with less inhibitions then I did last year and praying that next year I’ll truly be able to lose myself in the experience and dance like David HaMelach did before the ark as it was brought to Jerusalem without inhibition.
To top it all off I was called for the third aliyah to the Torah on Shabbat and I went up there with confidence and lead the minyan. That was the moment when it really hit me. For the last year I’d been struggling with taking a leadership role in my new community. In most situations I’m very vocal and assertive when I want to be but while starting the process of teshuva I’d become more reserved. Much of it had to do with feeling like a stranger in a foreign land wanting to feel at home but knowing that I was not. I used to dread being called up to the Torah so nervous and afraid of messing up the blessings that accompany it. But the other day I stepped up and just did it. It was a wonderful feeling and very affirming to feel with certainty in that moment that I do belong. That the work I’ve put in despite my knowledge that I can do more and do it better is paying off. It’s a blessing one I hope I can remember each and everyday of this new year.
Leading an observant Jewish lifestyle (as I now can safely say I do) has given me a greater appreciation for the sacredness of time. That I can’t just throw it away and that I should always be using it to get better. Taking so much time off this month, especially at the beginning of a hectic school / work time has had an even greater impact. For now we, the Jewish people decend to Egypt like our ancestors of old, as we will soon read about in the Torah. Not until Pesach will we again block off so much time for the sacred, for that which is eternal. May we all be blessed this year to learn and grow and look back at ourselves next year at this time and appreciate how far we’ve come and how far we have yet to go. L’Shalom.
This is what I learned: I’ve grown a lot. Last year I had trouble following the services. If I got lost in the prayers I’d have to wait for a Kaddish or ask someone next to me where we were in order to get back on track. This year I could find my way back fairly quickly, I was even the one keeping many of those around me at the right spot. This is largely to do my command of Hebrew getting much, much better. I still have a long way to go on it but I’m getting there. Sometimes it’s hard to see but I realized this month that I can read fairly well even if I get nervous when reading out loud or for a crowd. That goes along with this observation: I’ve become more confident in my observance. I’ve learned when it’s okay to tell people to get off my back and when I need to accept a push or a prod. It hasn’t been easy. I still fight with my Rabbis and with my old friends and family seemingly about everything. There are still misunderstandings and tensions because I’ve made the choice to move from my old secular existence in the pursuit of an observant life. But it has its rewards as well.
Like experiencing for the second time the rapture that goes with making it through Yom Kippur, the ecstasy of the Neliah service at the end of the day when we trust that our prayers and confessions have been heard and accepted. I also built my first sukkah and was delighted to get to invite my neighbors to dwell in it with me (even if we did get rained out). Finally last week the final farewell for this holiday season came with Simchat Torah and with it the adventure of finding a new minyan, and the experience of feeling really connected with a new group of people. Getting to dance with the Torah with less inhibitions then I did last year and praying that next year I’ll truly be able to lose myself in the experience and dance like David HaMelach did before the ark as it was brought to Jerusalem without inhibition.
To top it all off I was called for the third aliyah to the Torah on Shabbat and I went up there with confidence and lead the minyan. That was the moment when it really hit me. For the last year I’d been struggling with taking a leadership role in my new community. In most situations I’m very vocal and assertive when I want to be but while starting the process of teshuva I’d become more reserved. Much of it had to do with feeling like a stranger in a foreign land wanting to feel at home but knowing that I was not. I used to dread being called up to the Torah so nervous and afraid of messing up the blessings that accompany it. But the other day I stepped up and just did it. It was a wonderful feeling and very affirming to feel with certainty in that moment that I do belong. That the work I’ve put in despite my knowledge that I can do more and do it better is paying off. It’s a blessing one I hope I can remember each and everyday of this new year.
Leading an observant Jewish lifestyle (as I now can safely say I do) has given me a greater appreciation for the sacredness of time. That I can’t just throw it away and that I should always be using it to get better. Taking so much time off this month, especially at the beginning of a hectic school / work time has had an even greater impact. For now we, the Jewish people decend to Egypt like our ancestors of old, as we will soon read about in the Torah. Not until Pesach will we again block off so much time for the sacred, for that which is eternal. May we all be blessed this year to learn and grow and look back at ourselves next year at this time and appreciate how far we’ve come and how far we have yet to go. L’Shalom.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Bereshit
"Just as your hand, held before your eyes, can hide the tallest mountains - so this earthly life can keep you from seeing the vast radiance that fills the universe" – Rebbe Nachman of Bratslav
Ladies and gentlemen I hope you enjoyed the ride, had an AWEsome run of holidays and after all that we're back at where we began. I know I'm sure enjoying the ride...
Ladies and gentlemen I hope you enjoyed the ride, had an AWEsome run of holidays and after all that we're back at where we began. I know I'm sure enjoying the ride...
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