Identifying with a Horse

Photo – Me at Camp Alonim, Brandeis Camp Institute – 1972

In my early 20s I worked as a horseback riding instructor at a Jewish summer camp outside Los Angeles located on an undeveloped 3000-acre property of farmland and rustic terrain resembling Israel. One day, a two year-old unbroken stallion was donated to the camp. The director of the barn staff, a crusty old cowboy named Charlie who spoke with a strong hair-lip, asked me if I’d like “to break” the horse. Eager for a new challenge, I said yes.

Charlie told me to walk the horse slowly around a large open field for an hour or two daily to get the horse used to carrying a rider, and he showed me how to use a hackamore, a headgear with a hard rope noseband that puts pressure on the horse’s face, nose, and chin to assist in controlling the animal.

One day, after I thought I had a measure of control, I decided to trot the horse. I gave him a gentle kick, but the horse took off at full speed galloping towards the middle of the camp filled with children. With all my strength I sought to slow him down and redirect him away from the kids, but it was clear to me that I had lost control. I was successful only in steering him away from the kids. Then I bailed onto a lawn and the horse, free of me, returned quickly to the barn.

As I picked myself up, I saw Charlie laughing his head off a hundred yards away. He later explained that the horse was “barn sour,” meaning that the steed only felt safe and secure in the barn. The term “barn sour,” of course, is from the rider’s perspective not that of the horse. For him, the barn was a sweet place.

I’ve thought of that day a number of times during the last two months. As our stay-at-home order enters the third month, I feel as that horse must have felt so long ago. The only time I venture away from my home is early in the morning for a long walk in my neighborhood. I live in a wooded and rural-like area of Los Angeles yet, even as I experience its beauty and quiet calm, I’m happy to return home, a sweet, comfortable, and secure place.

As a 70-year old, like many of my peers, I’m especially frightened of the virus that’s killing and sickening so many hundreds and thousands of people in America and around the world and crashing the economy. I try not to give into the fear, to the dread of how many more people will get sick and die, or to despair about how long we’ll be shuttered before a vaccine enables everyone to venture out again and resume a more normal way of living. I’m striving to take each day as it comes. I’ve established a routine that offers me a sense of order, control, and calm. And I find that I’m identifying with that strong-willed horse that I attempted to “break” unsuccessfully 50 years ago. He wasn’t really “barn-sour” at all. He was “barn-sweet” just as I am home-sweet today.

80 years ago – May 10, 1940

Much has been said about President Trump’s weak leadership before and during this pandemic; his denial of reality and science, constant lies and disinformation, happy  magical talk, lack of empathy and humility, self-aggrandizement, managerial incompetence, firing of able government officials and scientific experts, attacks on the media and intelligence community, undermining of the justice system, schoolyard bullying of political opponents, pandering to our nation’s worst instincts, and blaming others while taking no responsibility himself as President of the United States.

In contrast, I’ve been thinking much about what great leadership really is.

This May 10th marks the 80^th anniversary of two pivotal events in world history. In his just-published and highly acclaimed history of Winston Churchill’s first year in office as Great Britain’s wartime Prime Minister, The Splendid and the Vile – A Saga of Churchill, Family, and Defiance during the Blitz, Erik Larson writes of that day:

“The beauty of the day [in Britain] made a shocking contrast to all that had happened since dawn, when German forces stormed into Holland, Belgium, and Luxembourg, using armor, dive-bombers, and parachute troops with overwhelming effect…. Churchill had been summoned by the King [George VI]…” that evening to become the next Prime Minister, a choice that saved England from being overwhelmed by the Nazi war machine and offered the world an historic example of great leadership in a time of existential national crisis.

Every subsequent Churchill address to Parliament and his nation began with a dire assessment of what Great Britain faced. He neither gilded the lily nor denied the truth and reality. He stated plainly the threat Britain faced before the Nazi onslaught. Churchill then explained what must be done, that sacrifice would be necessary, that much pain and suffering would be inevitable, and that the only result must be complete victory. He ended each speech with soaring eloquence and galvanized his people with a unified sense of purpose, mission, and hope.

In striking contrast with our inconsistent, self-serving, prevaricating, divisive, and hardhearted President Trump, Prime Minister Churchill carried his nation on his shoulders. His will was Britain’s will. His heart was England’s heart. His faith was the people’s faith. His strength was their strength.

For now until November, we Americans must rely upon our scientists, health care professionals, governors, mayors, Democratic Representatives and Senators in Congress and state legislators (and a few Republicans) for sane and responsible leadership. And we need to remember that the American people are inherently decent as demonstrated every day by so many caring for the sick and vulnerable.

Churchill said, “the future is unknowable but the past gives us hope.”

I hope that you and your dear ones stay well and that those who are sick heal quickly to fullness of health again.

 

 

 

 

 

Hope is a Commandment of the Heart

I changed recently the cover photo on my Facebook page (www.facebook.com/RabbiJohnLRosove) to the image here of the winter sky hovering over the Mediterranean Sea that I took eight years ago from the Tel Aviv shore. It suggests, I believe, what we are facing today as a world-wide community. On the one hand, the sky flows between dark and light grays. Yet, waiting to burst through the cloud cover is sunlight.

We are most assuredly living in dark times, but light shines in the extraordinary deeds of loving-kindness performed by courageous health care workers on behalf of the sick and dying, by those reaching out by phone, text, email, and social media to maintain connections with single isolated people (young, middle age, and senior), by the many front-line workers sustaining our communities in vital jobs, and by many of our nation’s governors, mayors, and members of Congress working on behalf of the safety and sustainability of all (American citizens and non-citizens alike). Collectively, they remind us, if we need reminding, that we “are tied together in the single garment of destiny, caught in an inescapable network of mutuality” (Dr. Martin Luther King, March 31, 1968).

I don’t recall who wrote the following, but its wisdom is worth sharing:

“Hope is a commandment of the heart in the face of uncertainty, a vision that opens up the future, based on trust, supportive of purpose, enabling us to live in an enhanced present of constructive waiting.”

 

 

“Coronavirus: The Haredi Response in Israel” – Rabbi Yehoshua Pfeffer, Editor-in-Chief, “Tzarich Iyun”

Half of all those hospitalized with coronavirus in Israel are Haredi (ultra-Orthodox Jews).

The key questions before the Haredi community (11% of all Israeli Jews – about 800,000 people) are who gets to decide public policy and who has the authority to determine the regulations with which all must comply?

Some of the basic principles that underlie the Haredi response to the virus that Rabbi Pfeffer elucidates include “suspicion of the State and its institutions, isolationism from non-Haredi society and culture, and a strongly institutionalized society. They are certainly not the whole.”

This article (5000 words) is long, but it is an inside look at how the extremist Israeli ultra-Orthodox community thinks vis a vis Jewish law and the secular state, and how the consequences affect all Israelis and the Israeli health-care system.

I am grateful to Rabbi Uri Regev, the founder of Hiddush in Jerusalem, who sent me and a few other rabbis this piece. It is an important essay.

https://iyun.org.il/en/article/coronavirus-the-charedi-response/

A Most Remarkable Act of Global Solidarity

“When you go out and see the empty streets, the empty stadiums, the empty train platforms, don’t say to yourself, ‘It looks like the end of the world.’ What you’re seeing is love in action. What you’re seeing, in that negative space, is how much we do care for each other, for our grandparents, for the immune-compromised brothers and sisters, for people we will never meet.

People will lose jobs over this. Some will lose their businesses. And some will lose their lives. All the more reason to take a moment, when you’re out on your walk, or on your way to the store, or just watching the news, to look into the emptiness and marvel at all that love.

Let it fill and sustain you. It isn’t the end of the world. It is the most remarkable act of global solidarity we may ever witness.”

“Coronavirus Crisis: A Different Way to Look at these Empty Streets,” author unknown, This is Glamorous, March 30, 2020

“Coronaviorus – Out of Many One” – by Tomas Pueyo

Entrepreneur Tomas Pueyo offers a comprehensive analysis of the pandemic covering every concern and issue as thoroughly as any I have seen. It is filled with graphs and explanations of those graphs, and he offers conclusions based on the history of pandemics generally and on the one we are facing now specifically.

This article is worth sending it to your congressional, state, and city representatives. If you know anyone in the Trump Administration, send it to them as well.

https://medium.com/@tomaspueyo/coronavirus-out-of-many-one-36b886af37e9

Reflections on this Passover – 2020

Dear All:

This is as difficult a year to celebrate Pesach as any of us born after WWII has ever known; but this year is not an anomaly in Jewish history. We’ve known as a people years of suffering before that the Haggadah itself documents in Midrash, rite, ritual, and song. As we do every year, we ask especially now what is the meaning of Passover.

The traditional Haggadah has a statement inserted during times of great oppression that calls upon God to “pour out Your wrath” upon the enemies of our people who caused us such suffering. Many modern Haggadot, however, deleted this reference and replaced it with “pour out Your love” upon Your people and all peoples, especially upon those suffering from oppression, illness, and want.

That being said, it’s entirely appropriate for us to be angry at those federal, state, and local government officials who have been derelict in their duty to follow the advice of medical experts and scientists who early on advocated taking aggressive steps to stem the tide of this pandemic and thereby protect, as much as possible, the well-being of our citizenry. Though many of our nation’s governors, mayors, health-care professionals, first-responders, and community leaders have stepped up to protect us, history will judge harshly those who failed to be the leaders we so desperately need.

Our Seders should include prayers for the healing of every person across the globe who is ill with this virus. Here is the shortest prayer in the Hebrew Bible (Numbers 12:13) that Moses offered on behalf of Miriam who had been struck with leprosy – “El na r’fa na la – Please God heal her.” We can put it into the plural for all those afflicted – “El na r’fa na lahem – Please God heal them.”

This year our Seders likely will be the smallest gatherings we’ve ever experienced. But we can still  celebrate our festival of freedom and renewal, be grateful for our families, friends, and tradition of hope, and say dayeinu – that may be enough.

Hag Pesach Sameach.

Tainted Wheat, Shabbat Hagadol, and Rachmanim b’nai Rachmanim

Rebbe Nachman of Breslov (1772-1810, Ukraine) tells the story of a wise king who told his prime minister, “I see in the stars that everyone who eats from this year’s grain harvest is going to go mad. What do you think we should do?”

The prime minister suggested they put aside a stock of good grain so they wouldn’t have to eat from the tainted grain.

“But it’ll be impossible to set aside enough good grain for everyone,” the king objected. “And if we put away a stock for just the two of us, we’ll be the only ones who will be sane. Everyone else will be mad, and they’ll look at us and think that we’re the mad ones. No. We too will have to eat from this year’s grain. But we’ll both put a sign on our heads. I’ll look at your forehead, and you’ll look at mine. And when we see the sign, at least we’ll remember that we are mad.” (Source – Sipurim Niflaim)

This story describes well what can happen to normal people who are assaulted constantly by the tainted grain of stupidity, ignorance, incompetence, and cruelty. They either assume these qualities themselves, or to protect themselves, they disengage and become indifferent to truth, competence, and human kindness.

I’ve thought often of Rebbe Nachman’s story these last 3 plus years of Trump’s presidency. The story suggests the only way that we can understand why Trump’s political base continues to support him and perpetuates his ignorance, denial of truth, and immorality.

Thankfully, the mainstream media, many of our nation’s governors and mayors, scientists, and health care professionals are telling the truth about Covid19, and we are able to witness the goodness, kindness, courage, and decency of so many everyday Americans, most especially those on the front lines helping the sick and dying. That’s the good news, that most Americans did not eat the tainted grain, that as a nation we remain compassionate not only to those we know among our family and friends, but of others.

This Saturday is considered one of the two most important Sabbaths in the Jewish calendar cycle – the other is the Sabbath that falls between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur known as Shabbat Teshuvah (“Sabbath of Repentance”).

This Shabbat is called Shabbat Hagadol – the “Great Sabbath” – as it comes just before we celebrate Passover, a holiday that focuses our people’s attention on the importance of human freedom and the virtue of nurturing compassion in our ourselves and in the hearts of our children.

The Jewish people are traditionally called rachmanim b’nai rachmanim – compassionate children of compassionate parents – and so we are taught to care not only about each other, our families, and our people, but all people. That is who we are. And that is who Americans are. Thus, no tainted grain ought to corrupt us.

Shabbat Shalom and Chag Pesach Sameach.

 

 

 

Food insecurity in the United States and MAZON’s Response

As the coronavirus spreads, MAZON is carefully monitoring the situation, coordinating with its grantee partners and other colleagues across the country, gathering the latest information, and advocating at the federal and state level for swift and effective action to expand access to food assistance for those affected. While it is true that all states and communities will be impacted, MAZON is committed to listening for and lifting up the needs and concerns of those places where there is a disproportionate impact, including in the most food-insecure states as well as those states already reporting large numbers of coronavirus cases. Over the coming days and weeks, MAZON will act as an information clearinghouse for the most-up-to date information from these states as MAZON works to ensure essential services, government benefits and food assistance to all who need them. Please share this resource and visit often for updated information.

https://mazon.org/inside-mazon/charitable-food-resource-guide-during-covid-19

Victor Frankl and today’s health care workers will be remembered

More and more harrowing and inspiring stories are becoming known about medical school students at NYU and UCSF medical schools (among others) and emergency care doctors and nurses in NYC and around the country who are committing themselves to helping the sick at great personal risk. Their courage and selflessness will be one of the noble memories that we will recall once this crisis has passed.

Victor Frankl reflected with these words – I did not change the gender language as he wrote it:

“We who lived in concentration camps can remember the men who walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last piece of bread. They may have been few in number, but they offer sufficient proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms — to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way. ”