Ahz mah (So what)

Control your anger. Do not hurt other people. Control yourself. Accept and deal with what you have. Work things out instead of killing or acting violently. Do not hurt someone else when something unfair happens. Violence is not the answer. Don’t kill your brother! These are direct quotes from our children in Tikvah Learning who were recently pondering the biblical story of Cain and Abel. We asked them: What is the Torah trying to teach us in this story? My colleague David Blocker and I are regularly blown away by the thoughtfulness of our young friends in these weekly conversations. Now here’s a question for you: Why does God favor Abel’s offering over Cain’s? The only hint in the text is that Abel brings the “choicest” from the flock. But is there more going on? One commentary zooms in on a subtlety in the original Hebrew. The Torah says that Cain brings an offering “from the fruit of the earth,” and Abel brings an offering “from his flock.” Aha! – Abel brings a sheep from his own

Traditional Jewish Principles/Laws Relevant to the Subject of “Medically Induced Death” 1. Every human is created in the divine image. Human life is sacred, regardless of its quality or usefulness. The value of life does not depend on our abilities. Our bodies/lives/souls “belong” to God, not to us. We are responsible for preserving and not harming them. A corollary: We are obligated to protect the vulnerable in society (elderly, minority, poor, mentally ill), whose lives may appear to be less “useful.” In contrast: Yankee/American value of liberty – the right to do what we want with our bodies; and the utilitarian/pragmatic worldview that people are only of value if they are “doing” and “producing.” 2. Thou shall not murder. Jewish law prohibits murder (except in self-defense or war), and suicide (except death for God’s sake, not yours – i.e. martyrdom). In contrast: Suicide is legal in all 50 states in the U.S. 3. Do not put a stumbling block before the blind (Lev. 19:14). This is un

Yom Kippur 5773/2012 Dear God, I am writing to You on behalf of my congregation. Although we have differences of opinion about You, and some of us are uncertain about what “believing in You” means, we still feel the impulse to communicate with You occasionally. To address the awesome mystery of existence as “You.” We can’t seem to help it sometimes. Anyway, I am writing this letter to You on behalf of my congregation on the subject of love and loss. There has been much personal loss in this little congregation, and it is on our minds. I promise, God, not to ask “Why?” or at least not to ask it too often. I know that asking “why” questions puts a person on the defensive. Of course You are not a person, but still I know that asking why You, God, do this or that is not a fruitful line of inquiry, because there is never a satisfactory answer. Ribono shel Olam / Master of the universe: Everything we love, we will eventually lose. Everything, and everyone. This is the truth of bein

 Rosh Hashanah 5773/2012 A story: Some years ago there was a car crash in front of the Baptist church in the town where my family used to live. The driver, taking her eyes off the road to turn and yell at her children in the back seat, swerved and hit an on-coming vehicle. The children were injured, the older girl critically. The Baptist church undertook a ‘round-the-clock prayer vigil. When at last the girl was released from the hospital, a member of the church wrote a letter to the local newspaper congratulating the church for the power of its prayers, taking credit for the girl’s survival. Another story: I met a woman who was visiting her critically ill friend in the hospital. She was distraught because the medical staff would not discuss her friend’s condition with her and tell her which organs and systems of the body were malfunctioning. She said to me: “How can I pray if I don’t know specifically what I’m praying for? I need to know what I’m praying for.” Two years ago on

On my vacation this summer, I encountered the following slogan on a hand-painted sign in a bed & breakfast: “Dream big, plan well, work hard, smile always, and good things will happen.” Sounds nice, you think? I had a different reaction: No, life doesn’t happen that way! Life happens. As much as we dream, plan, work, and smile (and pray), life happens the way life happens. And good things don’t always happen. This type of kitschy slogan is an expression of an insidious theme in American culture going way back. The 19th century psychologist William James referred to it as “the religion of healthy-mindedness,” in which people endeavor by sheer force of will to experience only the good and not the bad in life. It’s the converse that is most problematic: When something bad happens, it is implied that you did not dream, plan, work, or smile (or pray) sufficiently. Dream big? Sure. We Jews are the masters of grandiosity. Plan well? Good idea, up to a point. Work hard? A bit Puritani

I came upon this unusual personal ad in the weekly Forward newspaper (which I read religiously, down to the personal ads), and I can't stop thinking about it: MARTY ROTHMAN – WHERE ARE YOU? You grew up in Queens, went to Camp Rondax when you were 15, now you’re 80!! I hope that you’ve had a good life! But, if by chance, you’re single now, I’d love to meet you again.  Forward Box SG Doesn’t this sound like the beginning of a novel, or a film? There is something about this personal ad that I find so touching. And challenging. I understand that with the internet and Facebook, more and more people have gotten in touch with old friends and lovers from many years back. Or tried to. But this woman’s quest to find the Marty Rothman she knew when he was 15 makes me wonder: Who are we, really? Let’s say this Marty Rothman is (God willing) still alive. In what way(s) is he the Marty Rothman that she knew (and apparently loved) when he was 15? What – if anything – endures in our personalities

Rosh Hashanah theme: Real Prayer for Real People Yom Kippur theme: Love and Loss I welcome your input: questions, comments, ideas, stories, thoughts, reflections, etc. Comment here, or send me an email. Thanks!

At the very end of last week's Torah portion (Shelach), we read that the Israelites are instructed to place fringes on the corners of their garments. Why? Because “you shall see it and be mindful of all God’s commandments and you shall do them. And you shall not stray after your heart and after your eyes....” The basic understanding of this expression to “stray after your heart” is that we should not lust after objects we see and desire. This is puzzling, because in Judaism we emphasize actions , not thoughts, right? We don’t consider it sinful to have bad thoughts . Our tradition is clear about that. And anyway, how can we control our thoughts? Isn’t that commanding the impossible? But this verse of Torah is definitely considered a “thou shalt not” commandment. Do not go astray after your heart… How can we understand this? Here is one explanation, from the 16th century kabbalist Chaim Vital: A sin has four components: 1. a thought arising in the mind 2. rumination in the heart 3.

There is a passage from Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities that I copied into my notebook and saved when I was a teenager. I have returned to it often over the years, especially when driving through cities and towns: “A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other. A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city by night, that every one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret; that every room in every one of them encloses its own secret; that every beating heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there, is, in some of its imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it!” This may at first seem a depressing image, pointing as it does to our existential aloneness even among those closest to us. But I hear in it as well the possibility of empathy and caring. That each one of us is “a profound secret and mystery to every other” means that we have something essential in common! Please know tha

Our fifth grade students were recently discussing the mensch value of shmirat ha-guf , caring for the body. They together generated these two "wow" and "thanks" prayers: For Our Eyes Praise to you, Adonai our God Sovereign of the Universe! We thank you for our vision in life. Without it we wouldn’t be whole. If we didn’t have eyes, we would have dents in our heads! All our nerves work with your wisdom. Blessed are you, Adonai our God, who gives us the ability to see. For Our Hair Praise to you, Adonai our God Sovereign of the Universe Who took the time to sculpt tiny perfect holes in our sweet little heads so our hair could grow. Thank you for making the holes just the right size. We will take care of our hair by cutting it and showering. Praise to you, Adonai, who makes our hair grow.

I found a great book in the public library with stories about mensch-like pro-baseball players. It's called "The Good Guys of Baseball." The book is out of print, so we ordered up used copies of the paperback edition for the younger kids to read this semester. When the books arrived, we discovered that the paperback edition has two new chapters, plus a new cover featuring two smiling men in baseball uniforms. Not being a sports fan myself, I did not recognize them (and truth be told, neither did I bother to find out who they were!). Last week, one of the children pointed to the cover and shouted: "Hey, this is supposed to be the GOOD guys of baseball -- but these two guys took steroids!" Oh dear. Sure enough, David confirmed that indeed, these two guys who were featured on the cover and in the additional chapter had fallen from grace not long after the paperback edition had been published. How would you discuss this situation with a child? Are these two men