“Few and hard have been the days of my life”

This week Jacob, the inveterate victim, meets Pharaoh after discovering that Jacob’s favorite son Joseph is not only alive but had become second in power only to Pharaoh in Egypt. (Parashat Vayigash)

Every Jewish parent I know would be thrilled to experience anything close to this, but read the conversation between these two old men:

“Pharaoh asked Jacob, ‘How many are the years of your life?’ And Jacob answered Pharaoh, ‘The years of my sojourn on earth are one hundred and thirty. Few and hard have been the years of my life, nor do they come up to the life-spans of my fathers during their sojourns.” (Genesis 47:8-9).

Poor Jacob! No matter what good might have come to him in his life, he defaults to negativity. The rabbis put these words into God’s mouth in response (B’reishit Rabbah 95):

“God said: ‘I saved you from Esau and Laban. I brought Dinah back to you, as well as Joseph – and you complain that your life has been short and evil? I’ll, therefore, count the words of Pharaoh’s question and add that number to the number of words in your response (33 words total) and then shorten your life by exactly that much so that you’ll not live as long as your father Isaac. [Isaac lived to 180, whereas Jacob lived only to the age of 147 – i.e. 33 years less].”

Jacob’s negativity is surprising given all the good he had experienced in his life including twice encountering God. The first time was in his vision of angels ascending and descending a staircase to heaven at Beth El (Genesis 28) and waking to realize that God had been with him all along and he hadn’t known it. The second was in his struggle with a being described as both divine and human at the River Jabok where he emerged with a new name – Yisrael (Genesis 32).

We might expect more gratitude from Jacob instead of his complaining especially since this conversation with Pharaoh occurred at the reunion of Jacob with his cherished son Joseph.

We all know people like this who see the world as if through a negative prism? Are we those people? Do we put greater emphasis on the half-empty glass or the glass that’s half-full?  Are we “Debbie Downers?” (ala SNL)

There are so many examples of people who focus on the negative: parents who pay too much attention to their children’s weaknesses and failings – marriages that dissolve because one or both partners refuse to let go of the breeches, the bad times and flaws of the other – our inability to transcend disappointment, frustration, aggravation, and failure.

In his book The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, Stephen Covey notes that the most well-balanced, positive and proactive people, those who live happily and well with others at work and at home, tend to balance continually four dimensions of their lives;  the physical, spiritual, mental, and social/emotional.

As we prepare to conclude the secular year 2018, we might take this time to take stock and make adjustments, to tackle one or more of these four aspects of our lives and thereby improve our lot.

We may need mostly to better care for our bodies, eat the right foods, lose weight, get sufficient rest, keep stress at bay, and exercise more.

Perhaps spiritually we may need to find ways to sense more keenly the Ineffable in life’s mysteries, spend more time in communal prayer or by ourselves in meditation, relish the genius of the great artistic masters, spend more time on our own creative process and in the natural world.

Perhaps we’ve allowed our minds to atrophy and our curiosity to languish by learning little that’s new and stimulating.

Perhaps socially and emotionally we could strive to become more empathic, less self-centered and self-referencing, and to serve others more selflessly without a quid pro quo.

There’s one more area that Covey doesn’t mention specifically but includes the physical and mental and is epidemic in our society – depression, a miserable scourge in the lives of millions. If this is your malady or someone near and dear to you suffers from depression, there is redress. Seeking bio-chemical help from qualified physicians is neither shameful nor a sin. To the contrary, doing so is wise and potentially efficacious in addressing the misery that those suffering from depression feel every day and every hour of the day.

The Midrash notes that Jacob’s negativity shaved years off his life. I would hope that each of us not allow ourselves to follow his example and fall into the same trap.

Shabbat shalom.

 

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Letter from Temple Israel Leadership on the tragic events in Pittsburgh Shabbat morning

Our hearts break at the murders of eleven worshippers at Shabbat services at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh and of the shooting of the police sent to protect them this morning. We express our horror and grief at this hate-filled act that strikes at the heart of our American tradition of compassion and respect for the dignity of every human being.

The killer used the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society (HIAS) that historically has reached out to immigrants and settled refugees in the United States as his foil for his anti-Semitic outrage, the worst attack on Jews in American Jewish history, but we express our pride in the good work that HIAS has done over the past century in fulfilling Emma Lazarus’s expression of our national commitment to welcome the tempest tossed to our country.

We want to assure our community that we have tightened security and had the LAPD in addition to our own security with us this morning at services. Our first obligation is to the safety and security of our community.

Recent events in our country have challenged our democratic values and institutions and our nation as a force of love and goodness in the world. Our community at Temple Israel is committed to combatting this destructive negativity and indecency. Please know that all of us are here for you as a source of comfort and moral support.

We will convene together at 9:30 am tomorrow at Temple Israel for prayer and solidarity if you would like to join us.

We send our condolences to the families of the victims and hopes for the complete healing of those injured.

May the souls of those lost today be bound up in the bonds of eternal life.

Signed,

Senior Staff of Temple Israel of Hollywood and our Board President

 

Ha’azinu – A World with Teshuvah and Messianic Expectancy

“Give ear, O heavens, that I may speak, / Hear, O Earth, the utterance of my mouth. / Let my teaching drip like rain, / Let my words flow like dew, ‘ Like droplets on new growth, / Like showers on grass.” (Deuteronomy 32:1-2)

“Like an eagle protecting its nest / Over its young-birds hovering, / He spread out his wings, he took him, / Bearing him on his pinions.” (Deuteronomy 32:11)

“See now that I, am he / I myself bring-death, bestow-life / I wound and I myself heal, / And there is from my hand no rescuing! / For I lift up my hand to the heavens, / And say: As I live, for the ages.” (Deuteronomy 32:40)

These are among the fifty-two verses in this week’s Torah portion Ha’azinu (Deuteronomy 32), one of the shortest portions in the annual Torah reading cycle.

Though these verses are magnificent poetry, the Torah isn’t largely a poetic text. Rather, it’s a series of legal texts set in a narrative context. For poetry we have to search elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible – the soaring visions of the prophets, the yearnings of the Psalms, the saga of Job, and the eroticism of the Song of Songs.

Despite the Torah’s narrative and legal style, this portion closes in a burst of poetry as Moses nears the end of his life.

Essentially, Parashat Ha’azinu is a poetic meditation on the covenantal relationship between God and Israel. It’s graphic and written from the prospective of God, not Moses. Its themes dwell not upon the strength of the divine-human bond, but upon its weakness. Israel is characterized not as a covenantal lover, but as a treacherous adversary prepared to smash the covenant and cavort with other gods.

Towards the end of the poem, Moses shifts suddenly from speaking as a third-person narrator into the first person as God’s prophet. We envision an enraged God Who intends to hand Israel over to its most vicious enemies and its ultimate devastation. Fearing Israel’s demise to polytheism and oblivion, God reverses the divine decree, vanquishes Israel’s enemies and renews the covenant.

One scholar suggested that this poem is a CAT scan of God’s mind embracing the totality of divine rage, longing and love. Though God did indeed reverse the divine decree, it wasn’t because of divine compassion; rather, it was the consequence of divine pride.

There is something especially shocking about this poem, and that it’s missing utterly the idea of Teshuvah.

One would think that at the end of the annual Torah reading cycle that coincides each year with the close of the Yamim Noraim that Torah would affirm the covenantal bond between God and Israel as a consequence of Israel’s Teshuvah and return to God. But, the poem ignores the possibility of Israel’s repentance and presents a world devoid of the capacity of the people to alter God’s will through its contrition and Teshuvah.

It’s difficult to imagine living our lives without Teshuvah. Perhaps, that’s the point of the poem, to show us what such a world would be like without the possibility of our return, without the life-sustaining value of hope.

Judaism understands that Teshuvah is so indispensable for human welfare that the Talmudic sage Resh Lakish insisted that God conceived of Teshuvah before creating the world and wove Teshuvah into the fabric of creation itself.

The prophetic and rabbinic concept of repentance is among Judaism’s most ennobling and inspiring affirmations. Judaism rejects a fatalistic world, one in which what was will always be without the possibility of personal and communal evolution. Judaism affirms that we do indeed have a measure of control over our lives, that we can improve ourselves and be better morally and spiritually than we were. Though perfection isn’t the goal of the Yamim Noraim, self-improvement is.

Since our beginnings as a people we Jews have been buoyed by hope and messianic expectancy, all made possible by Teshuvah.

And so, perhaps, Ha’azinu is a warning about what our lives really would be like without the covenant and without our capacity to be better than we were.

Shabbat Shalom.

Note: Translation of the Hebrew are from “The Schocken Bible: Volume 1 – The Five Books of Moses” with a new translation and Introductions, Commentary, and Notes by Everett Fox

 

 

 

Pesach is coming – It’s time to ask the big questions!

To be curious is the first quality of the wise. Wise people know that they do not know and they learn something from everyone they meet (Avot 5:1).

The Passover Seder will soon be upon us, and there is much about the Seder itself that is a mystery. Nothing is as it seems. Everything stands for something else. Deeper truths are there for the seeker. Everything in the Seder suggests questions.

I have compiled a list of questions that might be sent in advance to your Seder participants or asked around the table during the Seder itself. These aren’t exhaustive. Add your own questions.

As no marathon runner would show up at the starting line without preparation and training, neither should we show up at our Seder tables without thinking seriously in advance about the themes and truths of this season. Now is the time to begin the questioning and probing.

Afikoman – When we break the Matzah

Questions: What part of us is broken? What work do we need to do to effect tikun hanefesh – i.e. restoration of ourselves? What t’shuvah – i.e. return, realignment of our lives, re-establishment of important relationships – do we need to perform to bring about wholeness? What’s broken in the world – i.e. what remains unfair, unjust, unresolved, in need of our loving care and attention – and what am I/are we going to do about it?

Mah Nishtanah – How is this night different from all other nights?

Questions: How am I different this year from previous years? What has changed in my life this year, for better and/or for worse? What ‘silver lining’ can I find in my disappointments, frustrations, loss, illness, pain, and suffering? What conditions in our communities, nation and world have worsened since last we sat down for the Pesach meal?

Ha-Chacham – The Wise Child

Questions: Who inspired you this past year to learn? Who has been your greatest teacher and why? What are the lessons you have learned from others that have touched you most in the year gone by?

Ha-Rasha – The Evil Child

Questions: Since Judaism teaches that the first step leading to evil is taken when we separate ourselves from the Jewish community and refuse to participate in acts that help to restore justice in the world, have we individually stepped away from activism? Have we become overcome by cynicism and despair? Do we believe that people and society succumb inevitably to the worst qualities in the human condition, or do we retain hope that there can be a more just and compassionate world? Are we optimistic or pessimistic? Do we believe that people and society can change for the better? Are we doing something to further good works, or have we turned away into ourselves alone and given up?

Cheirut – Thoughts about Freedom

Questions: If fear is an impediment to freedom, what frightens me? What frightens the people I love? What frightens the Jewish people? Are our fears justified, or are they remnants of experiences in our individual and/or people’s past? Do they still apply? Are we tied to the horrors of our individual and communal traumas, or have we broken free from them? What are legitimate fears and how must we confront them?

Tzafun – The Hidden Matzah

Questions: What have we kept hidden in our lives from others? Are our deepest secrets left well-enough alone, or should we share them with the people closest to us? To what degree are we willing to be vulnerable? Have we discovered the hidden presence of God? Have we allowed ourselves to be surprised and open to wonder and awe? If so, how has such recognition changed us?

Sh’fach et chamat’cha – Pour out your Wrath

Questions: Is there a place for hatred, anger and resentment in our Seder this year? How have these negative emotions affected our relationships with each other, the Jewish community, the Jewish people, the Palestinians, the State of Israel, with any “other”? Have we become our own worst enemy because we harbor hatred, anger and resentment? Do the Seder themes and symbolism address our deeply seated anger, hatred and resentment?

Ba-shanah Ha-ba-ah Bi-y’ru-shalayim – Next Year in Jerusalem

Questions: What are your hopes and dreams for yourself, our community, country, the Jewish people, the State of Israel, and the world? What are you prepared to do in the next year to make real your hopes and dreams?

Living in the Light, Being in the Light to Others – D’var Torah Bo

“I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish’d, and the stars 
Did wander darkling in the eternal space, 
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth 
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
Morn came, and went and came, and brought no day,
And [people] forgot their passions in the dread 
Of this desolation; and all hearts 
Were chill’d into a selfish prayer for light:…”

Lord Byron describes well what must have been the experience of the Egyptians when the 9^th plague of darkness befell them, as described in our Torah portion, Bo, this week.

This was not an ordinary darkness. So dense it was that a person couldn’t see his own hand in front of his face. The Midrash says that this darkness, choshech, wasn’t of the natural world. It wasn’t a solar eclipse nor the darkness that comes on a moonless night. While it oppressed the Egyptians guilty of enslaving the Israelites, the sun and universe operated normally. It was as if each Egyptian was imprisoned in a black box of isolation.

This darkness catapulted the Egyptians back to a time before creation itself when “darkness covered the face of the deep.” (Genesis 1:2)

From where did this darkness come, and what did it mean?

In Psalms (105:28) we read: “Shalach choshech va-yach’shich – God sent darkness and it became dark.”

In our portion, God instructs Moses: “N’tei yad’cha al ha-shamayim vi-hi choshech… – “Hold your arm over the sky that there may be darkness upon the land of Egypt, a darkness that can be touched.” And Moses did so.

This darkness of heart and soul reflected the debased spiritual and moral condition of the Egyptians.

The Psalms (18:12) tell us something else as well: “Yashet choshech sitro s’vivotav sukato – He makes darkness be His screen round about him,” suggesting that the light that could not enter the Egyptian heart is always hidden, only with them it was nearly extinguished because they were slave-masters.

The Divine light, however, shone in all the Israelite dwellings. In its purest form it was a luminosity so brilliant that no one could see it and live. The mystics say that the Torah is a veil shielding the light which is revealed to each of us according to our capacity to fathom it.

Rabbeinu Bachya ben Asher (14^th century Spanish Kabbalist) taught that God shut off every Egyptian’s antenna to receive this Godly light without interfering with the source of its transmission. But the Israelite antennae were open because our hearts were not hard.

What does all this mean for us?

If we live long enough we will suffer broken hearts. Some suffer chronic biochemical imbalances that need medical attention. Everyone needs love and support when we or our loved ones become ill, when we divorce and when a cherished loved one dies. Others among us lose our jobs and income. All these losses necessarily bring with them a pall of darkness.

Rabbi Isaac Meir Alter (19^th century Poland) taught that the worst darkness of all is that blindness in which one person will not “see another,” and will refuse to look upon another’s misery and to help him. Such a person who can’t see another will become incapable of “rising from his/her place,” that is, of growing spiritually and emotionally.

Rabbi Yochanan taught that every eye has an area of white and black. We might think that the human being sees out of the white part. But no; we see out of the black part, which means that when we’re in the dark we’re capable of seeing what is in the light, but when we’re in the light we cannot see what is in the dark. (Yalkut Shimoni 378).

In other words, there is always hope, and there is always light, even when we suffer our darkest moments. In Egypt, wherever a Jew went, light also went because the light was in them. That is what it means to be a Jew. To live the light, to be a light to others, and to hope.

Shabbat Shalom!

“Hamas Murdered Yuval Roth’s Brother. Now He Helps Sick Palestinians” – Tablet Magazine Headline

Photo – Handshake at an Israeli-Palestinian Crossing Checkpoint

When I was in Israel last month, I learned of a non-profit organization that is doing extraordinary transformative work called “Road to Recovery –RtR.” RtR’s sole aim is to provide free-of-charge transportation to Palestinians who need medical treatment in Israel.

Every day, RtR Israeli Jewish volunteers pick up West Bank Palestinian patients from various crossing points between Israel and the areas controlled by the Palestinian Authority, drive them in their private cars to hospitals in Israel, and then return these patients back to the checkpoints to be picked up on the Palestinian side by their relatives and friends.

Begun in 2010, in the past seven years, 3,280 Palestinian patients have been driven to Israeli hospitals by 3,300 Israeli Jewish volunteers in 43,300 patient trips covering 4.38 million miles in 50,000 hours of volunteerism.

The idea for this project grew out of tragedy.

Yuval Roth (60) lost his brother Udi to a Hamas terrorist in 1993 when Udi was returning home from reserve service in Gaza, then controlled by Israel.

Yuval said: “I lost a brother but not my head, and didn’t want revenge. Yes, I was angry, but my anger was directed not at the terrorists that killed my brother but at our leaders, that for generations were unable to solve the conflict.” (see Tablet Magazine – “Hamas Murdered Yuval Roth’s Brother. Now He Helps Sick Palestinians” by Tal Miller and Yoav Sivan, http://www.tabletmag.com/jewish-news-and-politics/192659/yuval-roth-derech-hachlama). Tablet reports:

Roth joined a pro-peace Israeli-Palestinian organization of families who lost a family member in the conflict called “The Parents Circle Families Forum.” He met Mohamed Kabah, a Palestinian from the village Yaabez near Jenin who also lost a brother. Kabah approached Roth with an unlikely request. He had a sick brother in medical care in Haifa who couldn’t get to the hospital. “So I drove him thinking this was no different from what I’d do for a neighbor in Pardes Hanna. Then this friend referred another family from his village who needed help to reach Hadassah Hospital…” One referral followed another, and soon there was too much traffic for one person to handle. “So, I reached out to my circles of friends.”

Mohamed Kabah told Tablet: “Yuval and I met 15 years ago…We both lost brothers in war and shared the conviction that we must do something to bring people closer together…We met with leaders of the PA, and we kept them informed…I think our contribution to peace is greater than that of many leaders. Today, there’s no Palestinian in the Territories who isn’t grateful to Yuval. This organization made us heroes. Still, many say that it’d be too hard to achieve peace. But this is our way to say that the pain of peace is better than the pain of war.”

Yuval Roth said: “The Israeli public doesn’t understand how deep is the Palestinian will for peace. It’s not the reasonable minority but the reasonable majority. The majority of the Palestinian public wants a two-state solution and supports the nonviolent path of Abu Mazen. It will take time for the Israeli public to process this picture, but I have no doubt that is the reality. And although I don’t think Netanyahu has the will to and courage for peace, I believe some processes are greater than any person.”

Yuval acknowledges that the image of Israelis in Palestinian eyes is negative and frightening just as the image of Palestinians in Israeli eyes is rejectionist and unyielding. Palestinians see all Israelis as settlers and soldiers with weapons, just as Israelis see Palestinians as unwilling to compromise. For peace to come both sides must change and evolve.

Yuval said: “We offer a different horizon and help change consciousness…I don’t know to what extent our actions help bring peace but I do know that in the chaos, this is the biggest small step I can make.”

See Road to Recovery website at http://www.roadtorecovery.org.il/

See three videos at https://projectrozana.org/video/ entitled “Road to Recovery,” “Zubin Mehta,” and “Transportation.”

 

 

 

“Why Judaism Matters – Letters of a Liberal Rabbi to His children and the Millennial Generation” – Reading and Book Signing – November 27 at 7 PM – Chevaliers Bookstore, Los Angeles

Chevaliers Books is the oldest independent book store in Los Angeles and is located at 126 N Larchmont Blvd, Los Angeles, CA 90004 in Hancock Park.

I would love to see you there!

“Why Judaism Matter – Letters of a Liberal Rabbi to His Children and the Millennial Generation” with an Afterword by Daniel and David Rosove is now available for purchase on Amazon.com (publishing date – October 10). This book is a collection of thirteen letters offering a common sense guide and roadmap for a new generation of young men and women who find Jewish orthodoxy, tradition, issues, and beliefs impenetrable in 21^st Century society. It is published by Jewish Lights Publishing, a division of Turner Publishing.

Endorsements

“Rabbi Rosove’s letters to his sons are full of Talmudic tales and practical parables, ancient wisdom with modern relevance, spiritual comfort, and intellectual provocation. Whether his subject is faith, love, intermarriage, success, Jewish continuity or the creation of a meaningful legacy, you’ll find yourself quoting lines from this beautiful book long after you’ve reached its final blessing.” – Letty Cottin Pogrebin, writer, speaker, social justice activist, author of eleven books including Debora, Gold, and Me: Being Female & Jewish in America, a founding editor of  Ms. Magazine, a regular columnist for Moment Magazine, and a contributor of op-eds in the New York Times, Washington Post, Boston Globe, Philadelphia Inquirer, Toronto Star, and LA Times, among other publications.

 “John Rosove does what so many of us have struggled to do, and does it brilliantly: He makes the case for liberal Judaism to his children. As Rosove shows, liberal Judaism is choice-driven, messy, and always evolving, “traditional” in some ways and “radical” in others. It is also optimistic, spiritual, and progressive in both personal and political ethics. Without avoiding the hard stuff, such as intermarriage and Israel, Rabbi Rosove weaves all of these strands together to show the deep satisfactions of living and believing as a liberal Jew. All serious Jews, liberal or otherwise, should read this book.” – Rabbi Eric H. Yoffie, President Emeritus of the Union for Reform Judaism and a regular columnist for the Israeli daily newspaper Haaretz.

“Rabbi John Rosove has given a gift to all of us who care about engaging the next generation in Jewish life. The letters to his sons are really love-letters from countless voices of Jewish wisdom across history to all those young people who are seeking purpose in their lives. From wrestling with God, to advocating for peace and justice in Israel and at home, and living a life of purpose, this book is a compelling case for the joy of being Jewish.” – Rabbi Jonah Pesner, Director of the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism in Washington, D.C.

“Rabbi John Rosove gets it. Here is a religious leader not afraid to tell it like it is, encapsulating for his audience the profound disaffection so many young Jews feel towards their heritage. But instead of letting them walk away, he makes a powerful case for the relevance of tradition in creating meaningful lives. In our technology-saturated, attention-absorbing age, Rosove offers religion-as-reprieve, his fresh vision of a thoroughly modern, politically-engaged and inclusive Judaism.” – Danielle Berrin, columnist and cover-story journalist for the Los Angeles Jewish Journal, commentator on CNN and MSNBC, and published work for The Guardian, British Esquire, and The Atlantic.

 “If you’re a fellow Reform millennial, give yourself the gift of John’s insights. This book is written in a breezy, gentle, readable style that is welcoming without losing sharp insight. It was so enjoyable and refreshing to read and persuasive without ever being pushy. Rosove managed to do what only a truly worthy slice of kugel or chance viewing of Fiddler has done for me; reactivate my sense of wonder and gratitude about being Jewish. I’m a huge fan of WJM.” – Jen Spyra, staff comedy writer on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert (CBS), former senior writer for The Onion, actress, and stand-up comedian. Jen’s writing has appeared in The New Yorker, The Wall Street Journal, The New York Daily News, and The Daily Beast, and has been featured by The Laugh Factory Chicago’s Best Standup Show Case.

“Rabbi Rosove has written a wonderful book, a love letter to his children, and through them, to all our children. Prodigiously knowledgeable, exceedingly wise, and refreshingly honest, Rabbi Rosove has described why Judaism Matters. It should serve as a touching testament of faith, spanning the generations for generations to come.” – Rabbi Ammiel Hirsch, Senior Rabbi of Stephen Wise Free Synagogue in NYC, former Executive Director of the Association of Reform Zionists of America-World Union for Progressive Judaism, author of One People, Two Worlds: A Reform rabbi and an Orthodox rabbi explore the issues that divide them with Rabbi Yaakov Yosef Reinman.

“Rabbi Rosove has written a book of the utmost importance for our time. It is an imperative read for all those who struggle with the changing and evolving attitudes towards belonging, behavior and belief.  His analysis, stemming from deeply personal contemplation and decades of rabbinic experience, offers clear yet sophisticated approaches to tackling the challenges facing this generation and those to come. This book offers a treasure of wisdom through the lens of Jewish texts – both ancient and modern – which help to frame life’s major issues taking the reader from the particular to the universal. Israel is one of the most complicated of issues and he bridges the divide between Israel’s critics and staunch supporters and moves beyond the conversation of crisis for the millennial generation.” – Rabbi Joshua Weinberg, President of the Association of Reform Zionists of America

“John Rosove’s letters to his sons based on his life, philosophy, and rabbinic work address what it means to be a liberal and ethical Jew and a lover of Israel in an era when none are automatic. He writes in an unassuming personal style steeped in traditional texts as he confronts conflicts of faith and objectivity, Zionist pride and loving criticism of the Jewish state, traditional observance and religious innovation. He is never gratuitous and invites his readers into his family conversation because what he says is applicable to us all.” – Susan Freudenheim, Executive Director of Jewish World Watch,  journalist, former managing Editor of the Los Angeles Jewish Journal, and a former editor at the Los Angeles Times.

See 11 Reader 5 Star Reviews at Amazon.com

God’s Promise and the Rainbow – A Midrash

God looked out upon creation and saw that violence, chaos and mean-spirited self-centeredness engulfed the human heart. There was neither kindness nor justice in the world. Empathy had ceased. Fear and hatred supplanted peace and love. In Divine disappointment and righteous rage God determined to destroy creation and return everything to primordial darkness.

The Eternal mourned and recalled how great was the effort to create the heavens and earth, give life to growing things, design and fashion the birds, sea creatures and animals in all their variety, shape, color, function, and form. That thought grew within the Divine mind, and so the Creator hesitated and stepped back from the brink thinking how great a tragedy it would be to destroy that which had once been thought “good.”

God wondered: ‘Is there one human on earth, different from the rest, who can still fathom Me, who hasn’t been consumed by the sitra achra, the evil that brought such darkness to My creation.’

God peered into every human soul seeking that one, better than the rest, who though not yet a complete tzadik might be good enough to hear the Divine voice and save what could still be saved.

To God’s relief, there was one human named Noah, so God spoke to Noah and told him to build an ark and save his family and two of every creature that all might not be lost and that the world might begin anew.

As the Eternal wept in contemplating the devastation, Divine tears fell heavily to earth and continued forty days and nights.

When finally God’s tear ducts were dry the waters receded, dry land appeared, and the ark docked. The Eternal God spoke to Noah:

“I am God, Noah, Who created you and brought you into this new land. Look around you and see the cleansed earth. The world is once again new. There is no longer rage or hatred, violence or hubris in the human heart. I will make with you a covenant marked by a sign that will remind us both how I created the world in peace, but then destroyed it, and then allowed it to begin anew that it should remain a place of peace for all time.

And the sign of this covenant will be a radiant smile that stretches across the heavens and fills the sky, an arc of light shining through the flood waters, a vision of loveliness that will inspire awe and love for Me. 

This promise, Noah, shall be called the ‘rainbow,’ and this bow in the sky will remind you, Me and your progeny that I will never again bring such devastation to the earth. 

Your duty and that of your children and children’s children must be to protect My creation, to preserve and nurture it, for there will come no one after you to set it right if you destroy it.”

Then God bent towards the earth and stretched the Divine arm mightily across the sky and made an arc. And just where God’s hand had been, there appeared a sheltering bow of every color spread out across the blue canvas of sky.

And God spoke of the colors and the sign of the rainbow:

“First comes red to stand for the blood pulsing through human veins that carries My Godly soul and makes all things live; orange is for the comforting warmth of fire and its potential to create, build and improve upon what I created; yellow is for the glory of the sun that lights the earth and gives vision to earthly souls that they might see Me in all things and live; green is for the grass and the leaves of trees and their fruit, that all creatures might be sustained in life; blue is for the sky, sea and rivers that joins air and ground and makes clear that all is One, divinely linked and a reflection of Me; indigo appears each day at dusk and dawn to signal evening and morning, the passage of time and the seasons, the ever-renewing life force that is intrinsic to all things; violet is for the coming of night when the world rests and is renewed, and it carries the hope that all might awake in the morning and utter words of thanksgiving and praise.”

God explained that the rainbow appears to the human eye as a half circle, and said to Noah:

“Do not be fooled, my most righteous one! There is more to life than what the eye can see. There is both the revealed and the hidden, and the hidden half of the bow reaches deep into the earth that you and those who yearn after Me might come and discover Truth, and reveal and make whole both the revealed and the hidden in My world.”  

God told Noah:

“Remember this blessing, My child, and you will remember My promise – Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, zocheir habrit v’ne-eman biv’rito v’kayam b’ma-amaro.

Praised are You, Eternal our God, Sovereign of the revealed and the hidden, Who remembers, is faithful to, and fulfills the Divine covenant and promise.”

Compiled and written by Rabbi John Rosove. Inspired by classic Midrashim. First published in October 2010.

 

Talking with 5th Graders about Prayer and God

This past week I spent an hour with 40 fifth grade Day School students talking about prayer, faith, rational and intuitive thinking, science, religion, and God.

 

I found these eleven-year-olds not only keenly interested in our conversation but sophisticated thinkers already at their young age.

 

My goal was first to open with them a conversation in which they felt comfortable thinking freely and expressing themselves without being judged. I explained that when it comes to matters of faith there is no right or wrong, that faith is deeply personal.

 

I explained to them the fundamental Jewish idea of achdut, the oneness of God, the Jewish people, humanity, nature, and the metaphysical, and that this idea is carried fully in the Sh’ma. They understood.

 

I also talked about the limits of the rational mind and the intellect, that faith is a function of the non-rational mind that it is beyond linear thinking and does not depend upon that which can be proven through observation or empirical evidence. Faith is founded, I explained, upon the intuitive capacity and is based on our experience of awe and wonder.

 

I asked the students what they believe is the purpose of prayer. They responded that prayer is our opportunity as individuals and as a community to praise, to give thanks, to feel appreciation, to forgive, and to hope. These were their words, not mine.

 

I asked whether prayer changes us or God. They said that prayer changes us, not God, though one boy said that prayer is also about asking God for things. I probed – “What kinds of things?” He answered, “When we most need something from God, when we’re sad or sick, and when people we love die.”

 

“Yes,” I said, “but what is it that we are likely to receive?”

 

We kept talking. I suggested that when we’re really sad prayer can help us feel less alone, that God is the loving unifying and creative force in the universe and that can be a source of comfort. When we pray, I explained, many people gain the sense that we are all part of something far greater than ourselves and beyond our capacity to understand, that we can gain in courage through prayer to face the sadness and loneliness we feel and feel inspired.

 

One girl asked about the fairness of human suffering and why God allows people to die when they are young. I spoke to them about two of the many names for God in Jewish tradition. The holiest Name is YHVH, the Name we call God that appeared to Moses on Mount Sinai and inspired the writing of the Torah. The other common name is Elohim, the God of the Book of Genesis Who creates the heavens and the earth (the Torah portion last week was Bereishit, the first chapters of Genesis). Elohim is the Name of God that sets the physical world according to the laws of nature.

 

Whereas Elohim is the Name of God that is the author of natural disasters, illness, and death, I explained that I do not believe that God singles out any individual human being to suffer. We are human and mortal and some people unfortunately get sick while others stay healthy for most of their lives.

 

I emphasized, however, that YHVH is the Name of God that met Moses on Mount Sinai and inspired Torah, and that when we act in a Godly way by virtue of our being created in God’s image, we bring God’s love and generosity into the world. When we do that, we inspire hope.

 

As is the case in the adult Jewish population, there were doubters among my fifth-grade students. I asked, “Do you think you can be a Jew without believing in God?” Some thought so but others weren’t so certain.

 

I told them “Yes,” because Judaism is far more than a religion. We are a people, a culture, civilization, and a faith tradition with a vast literature, four Jewish languages (Hebrew, Aramaic, Ladino, and Yiddish), philosophy, rite, ritual, holidays, life-cycle events, and ethics codified in law. I explained as well that Judaism is the longest continuous surviving tradition on the planet reaching back to Abraham and Sarah 3600 years ago.

 

I reminded our students that a Jew is someone born of a Jewish mother in traditional communities or of a Jewish parent in the American Reform movement, and that Jewish identity is established and thrives when we study Torah and our tradition, perform the mitzvot (commandments), stay close to Jewish community, and identify with the people of Israel around the world and support the State of Israel.

 

Our mission as a people, I explained, is Tikkun Olam – repairing an imperfect, unfair, and sometimes unjust world. There is much work to do, I said, and that each one of us has the responsibility to make a contribution to a better world.

 

I left this conversation feeling hopeful. Our young people are thinking, smart, kind-hearted, and committed to our community, and they are asking all the right questions and struggling to understand who they are in these initial decades of the twenty-first century.

 

We are not the “ever-dying” people. We are alive, and when I am with young people like these fifth-grade students, I feel alive!

 

 

The Power of Kol Nidre

Though the chanting of the Kol Nidre text is the iconic moment of the evening service on Yom Kippur, the words of this Aramaic legal formula are less important than the dramatic occasion in which the Kol Nidre is the central element.

The congregation enters the Sanctuary on that holiest of nights and is stunned to see an empty open ark devoid of Torah scrolls. Normally the Aron Hakodesh (The Holy ark) is filled with sifrei Torah – the Torah scrolls are what make the Ark “holy” (Kadosh). Without Torah scrolls the Aron’s meaning changes. In Hebrew, “Aron” is an “ark,” a “closet,” and a “casket.” Looking into an empty Ark is as if we are peering into our own coffins and confronting our limitations and mortality.

The High Holidays, however, offer a reprieve. The liturgy reminds us that prayer (i.e. praising and celebrating God and life), teshuvah (i.e. turning and returning to lives of meaning in relationship with others, with Torah, the Jewish people, nature, and God), and tzedakah (i.e. restoring justice into human affairs) are available to us at any time. Despite whatever has drawn us away from our core Jewish values during the year, we can recommit in this season to living our lives with greater dignity and meaning. We can turn our lives around. Fate need not necessarily determine our destiny. We can change, evolve, and grow. We can be elevated and worthy to stand with dignity before God on this holiest of days.

The Chassidim teach that if one wishes to walk east when one is walking west, all that’s necessary is to turn around.

G’mar chatimah tovah.