Wrapping up the Bible - March 2014

Sh’ma, b’ni, musar avicha, v’al titosh torat imecha.

Listen, my child, to the instruction of your father, and do not abandon the Torah of your mother.

Proverbs 1:5

This month, we are completing the four-year cycle of our trimester system as we study the third section of the Tanakh (the Hebrew Bible) - K’tuvim or Writings. To best understand how K’tuvim is put together, we might best take a step back and look at the whole Hebrew Bible.  One way to look at the Bible is not as an intentionally written series of texts, but rather as a collection of “the best (religious) literature of the Biblical period”.  

The process by which the Bible came to be the book that we know today is called “canonization”.  At various times, certain books, or groups of books, were accepted into the canon of the Bible - some because of their eternal message, some because their message was meaningful in that time, and some because it would be inconceivable to the Biblical audience for these books not to be included.  The Torah was canonized (into roughly its present form) during our exile in Babylon, after the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem in 586 BCE. Ezra the Scribe returned from exile and proclaimed that we would have a public reading of the Torah each year at Sukkot.  Next came the books of the Prophets, brought together, it is believed, when Antiochus and the Syrian-Greeks would not let us study the Torah.  The scholars of the time associated passages from prophetic works with each Torah portion.  The period of the prophets runs from Joshua (just after the death of Moses at the end of the Torah) to the end of the exile in Babylon.  

The last section - the Writings - is neither a chronological account nor even a coherent collection. We might call also call it “Biblical Miscellany”.  

• The first book - T’hillim - Psalms is probably a collection of the best known and loved 150 liturgical poems from the worship in the Temple in Jerusalem.  
• The next book Mishlei - Proverbs is often attributed to King Solomon (as many of the Psalms are attributed to his father, King David) and consists mostly of fatherly advice.  
• The book of Iyov or Job is a meditation on a problem that still concerns us today - why do bad things happen to good people?  The book takes place in the mythic land of Uz and is probably meant to be understood as a parable, not as historical.  
• Shir haShirim - the Song of Songs, is also said to be written by King Solomon.  This book of beautiful love poetry is one of the most quoted of Biblical texts and the Rabbis attempted to understand it as a metaphor for the loving relationship between God and Israel.  
• The book of Ruth (Rut) takes place in the period of the Judges and tells the story of the first convert to Judaism and eventual ancestress of King David.  
• Eicha is the almost onomatopoeic Hebrew name of the book of Lamentations - a series of dirges mourning the destruction of the first Temple.  
• The third book attributed to King Solomon is Kohelet or Ecclesiastes, sometimes seen as the jaded musings of a former intellectual, but which I view more as an instruction that wisdom must be acquired by living and learning, not by appropriating someone else’s experience.  
• The book of Esther is the most widely known - the basis of our holiday of Purim, where we read it each year, and it is set sometime after the return from the first exile.  
• Daniel tells the story of an Israelite child raised in exile in the Babylonian court and later in the Persian court as a tale of how we can hold on to our Judaism in exile.
• Ezra-Nechemiah is most like the Book of Kings in the previous section, in that it is a fairly straightforward retelling of the end of the first exile and the establishment of Jewish sovereignty under the Persian empire.  
• Finally, the book of Chronicles - Divrei haYamim - is a retelling of all of Jewish history, from the first human being to the anointed king (or mashiach) Cyrus of Perisia who fulfills the prophecy by allowing us to rebuild the Temple in Jerusalem.  

Each book has its own style and its own message. Open your Bible and study with us through May, as we explore the many different voices and answers that our tradition provides to questions we still ask today.

Rabbi Abraham

The answer to the question you may be asking in April -

Why does Rabbi Abraham have so much less hair?

On April 1st, at the rabbinic convention in Chicago, Rabbi Abraham will be joining more than 36 of his colleagues who are shaving their heads to promote awareness about childhood cancers and to raise money for research through St. Baldricks.  Rabbis Phyllis and Michael Sommer lost their son, Sam, to cancer in December.  Before he died, Phyllis and fellow rabbi Rebecca Schorr decided that one thing they could do to help kids in Sam’s situation was to get 36 rabbis together to raise money and awareness.

If you are interested in contributing, you can go to http://www.stbaldricks.org/participants/mypage/661199/2014 or to stbaldricks.org and search for Rabbi Abraham.

Thank You for the Words of Comfort - February 2014

Hamakom yinachem etchem b’toch sha’ar av’lei tziyon v’yirushalayim

May God comfort you, amidst the rest of the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem

- traditional words of comfort said to mourners

Thank you.

Thank you to all of the Temple Sholom community - members, extended family, staff and others (even including the custodial staff of the Fanwood Presbyterian Church) who have reached out to me and to my family in this time of loss.  It is one thing to preach about the importance of community in times of sorrow as well as in times of joy; it is another to experience that comfort first-hand.

Thank you to everyone - whether you were able to attend the funeral or shivah, or sent a card, a note or Facebook post, made a donation, helped to make sure the sanctuary was ready for the service, or who expressed your condolences when you saw me, or even sent a kind thought in our direction.  

Thank you to those who shared your own wisdom about loss. Most commonly I have heard that while grief may lessen, memory continues each and every day.

Thank you to the congregation for allowing me to sit shivah for a week, to not have to lead services that Shabbat, and to be able to do or not do as I needed to in my grief.  Thank you for providing for my continuing, segmented sabbatical.  On the one hand, it was a gift to be able to help my family with all the mundane tasks necessary after a death.  On the other hand, it was difficult to be separated from my community, when I was most in need of their support.

Thank you to the communities and congregations that welcomed me during shloshim.  The first Shabbat was with our Temple.  The second, I was at NFTY-GER’s Winter Kallah and, without any prompting from me, the service leader mentioned my father and all of his life’s work for youth (from his presidency of MAFTY in the 50’s, through his advising of JFTY in the 70’s and his work with HaBonim Dror in New Zealand).  The third Shabbat, I went to Temple Emanu-El in Westfield, and when I asked Rabbi Sagal to mention my father, he said they had already been doing so.  From the bimah, he noted that several of those leading the service that evening had been influenced by my father - from his welcome of Rabbi Sagal to his first pulpit in Connecticut, to officiating at one of the songleader’s wedding and advising the other in JFTY.  The fourth Shabbat, Ezri and I went to Temple Emanu-El in Edison, missing the wonderful tribute service to Shelly Freedman.  At each congregation, we were greeted by members, clergy, and active youth group members who had just been at Winter Kallah.\

The traditional words of comfort that we share with those in mourning, quoted above, may seem odd.  The idea is to help the mourner place themselves back in the community. They may feel alone and without any companions.  Truly, all mourning is unique, but just as each and every Jew once mourned the loss of Jerusalem and the land of Israel, we have all experienced loss.  We all know the awkwardness of condolence, the attempt in words to share feelings of compassion.  That feeling is what carries through.

Thank you again, in advance, for allowing me to share more memories of my father and what I have learned from him as I go forward.  Truly, much of what I have shared in my rabbinate so far comes from lessons that I have learned from watching him as a rabbi.  Now I find myself needing to make the footnotes explicit.

May the times be few and far between, but when you need such comfort, may you find such as I have found in this community.

Rabbi Abraham

[No column - Rabbi Abraham on Sabbatical] January 2014

How Good and How Nice - Memories of Temple Sholom's Centennial - December 2013

הִנֵּה מַה-טּוֹב וּמַה-נָּעִים שֶׁבֶת אַחִים גַּם-יָחַד

Hinei mah tov, u’ma na’im, shevet achim gam yachad

How good it is, and how nice, to sit together as family. Psalm 133:1

Some memories of our Centennial Celebration...

At the pre-school party on Sunday, the Cantor served pizza and cake, and we all sang, “Happy Birthday to us”.

At the Religious School party, where we served 100th anniversary cake to every child in our religious school, two of our students insisted we sing, “Yom huledet sameach” - Happy Birthday, in Hebrew.

As we began the service on Friday night, and as we began havdalah at the Gala on Saturday, and even at the Religious School party, we asked our Temple Sholom families to stand up by generations, decade by decade, to show how our chain of tradition is a living one, each link a person.

The Schwartz’s, Dreiers, and Schuldenfreis sat together on Friday and Saturday and shared stories about their parents and grandparents - and then enjoyed their framed pictures of the old sanctuary in Plainfield.

Mark Nussenfeld, co-chair of the Centennial Committee, received a rousing ovation when he thanked all the spouses of our past presidents, who also gave so much to Temple Sholom.

There were so many Chai (18+ year), Double Chai (36+ year), and Jubilee (50+ year) members that they flowed off the bimah for their group aliyah.

There were bittersweet moments, as well -

Marty Schwartz remembering Rabbi Sidney Nathanson and his family’s close relationship with the Nathanson family.

Sharing with the family at her funeral, that we honored Thelma Umansky as a Jubilee member, and that the Temple office was filling up with Christmas presents for the families from Kings’ Daughters school in Plainfield - a mitzvah project started by Thelma’s relationship with Temple Sholom and the school.

The beautiful moment when our Cantor and Temple Sholom choir stopped by Center for Hope Hospice before the Founders’ Shabbat service to sing to Shelly Glaser-Freedman, and she mouthed the words along with her fellow choir members.

The service, put together by Cantor Sharlein and myself, with music and readings from across Temple Sholom’s worship history, with singing by our choir, and music by our Hava Nashira band, was appreciated not only by Temple members young and old, recent and long-term, but also by the family members visiting for the Bat Mitzvah.

Rabbi Daniel Freelander shared with us not only words of congratulations and challenge for our future, but sang a duet of his Shalom Rav with our Cantor and joined the choir for the anthem and closing song.

But, the greatest joy of all, was the proof of what Temple Sholom has been and continues to be - a place where people of all different ages, personal histories, backgrounds, and experiences can come together as a community, to share sorrows, and, on this occasion to celebrate as family.  How good, and how nice.

Thank you again - to Centennial Chairs Karyn Weingarten and Mark Nussenfeld, to all those involved in the various projects that made the weekend a success, and to all of you, as members of our Temple, who have brought us this far on our journey of a century and will continue to push us forward to our new home and our next century.

Rabbi Abraham

One Hundred Years - Let Us Rejoice and Be Glad - November 2013

Zeh hayom asa Adonai, nagilah v’nism’cha bo

This is the day that Adonai has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it. - Psalm 118:24

One hundred years ago, the Jews gathered in Judge William Newcorn’s office, writing by hand their articles of incorporation might not have been able to imagine the Rabbi of their congregation punching plastic keys to make letters appear on a screen, sent through the air, printed from pictures, and then distributed in 250 exact duplicates to every member of the congregation that they were forming.

But they did imagine a congregation that was different from any other Jewish congregation in the area.

A congregation where they could feel comfortable as Americans, as community leaders, and as Jews; where they could invite their non-Jewish friends and proudly display their faith and commitment to the common goals of humanity.  They imagined a place where their children, and the children of other like-minded families, could learn about the values conveyed by Jewish text, the history of countless generations, and the ritual and worship that tied together Jews across time and space.  They imagined a warm community where they could meet socially, learn together, share joys and sorrows, and act together for the common good.  They imagined holidays spent together, celebrations of weddings, b’nei mitzvah, and confirmations - and even the occasional funeral.  They imagined - and built - a home for themselves and future generations.

They might not have imagined an open classroom Hebrew model or a service with the words in Hebrew and transliteration projected on a screen.  They might not have imagined a machine that called all the members of the congregation to share news of a family rejoicing at a birth, or mourning a loss.  They might not have imagined the congregation with the Torah scroll unrolled at Simchat Torah and seeing the whole of a years journey of study in their hands.  They may not have imagined women on the bimah reading Torah, leading prayer, or becoming Bat Mitzvah.  They may not have imagined Jews of all colors, backgrounds, sexual preferences, or family types all standing on our bimah for a group aliyah on the High HolyDays.  They may not have imagined the numbers of non-Jewish family members volunteering, attending services, learning with and without their children, serving on the Board of Trustees.  Many of the things that we do today, they may not have recognized.

But the spirit behind these activities, the mission that drives the congregation, the feeling of Temple Sholom, shined as brightly then as it does today.  We carry with us, in our temporary housing, the words that were written on the outside by the front entrance of our home in Plainfield and will be written on the front wall of our new home in Scotch Plains - “You know what is required of you, O human being: do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God.”  For one hundred years, we have strived to live up to those words.  We could do much worse then let them guide us into our next century.

We have not only survived one hundred years a Reform Jewish congregation - we have grown, and changed and thrived.  We take a moment now to celebrate, then we take up our responsibility again and carry Reform Judaism forward into the next generation.  Kein y’hi ratzon  - and so may it be.

Why I Take Prayer Seriously - October 2013

Why I Take Prayer Seriously – Rabbi’s Column – October 2013

The one who rises from prayer a better person, their prayer has been answered. Reform Prayerbook

        So, nu, Rabbi, I know that you must spend a lot of time praying, but it doesn’t work for me, so why should I bother?

Prayer Can’t Hurt - I suppose it is an easy enough statement to say that no one has ever been harmed by prayer.  I was challenged on this fact, however, when I began a discussion at the first t’fillah (prayer service) in our Hebrew School this year.  One of the students said that if we prayed for something bad to happen to someone else, and our prayer was answered, that would be harm.  The question brings up the idea of favoritism in prayer.  Does God really prefer one sports team over another, so that locker room prayer has an outcome on the score?  Or does God just keep a prayer meter running and, regardless of preference, whichever side prays the most, wins? A good answer is that we might keep our prayers to wishes that we can perform to our best ability, or that the team plays well together, or that we avoid injury.  Even those who believe in a personal God, who intervenes in daily events, can be uncomfortable with the idea that God’s actions are restricted by or predicated on the correct prayer being said in the correct way.  We are always comfortable if God would answer our prayers, but we often ignore the consequences to others, if our desires are fulfilled, or what happens to us, if someone else prays for something we thought we already had.

However, saying that prayer is not a bad thing is a rather tepid endorsement, and not the impetus for someone to immediately begin a prayerful practice.

Prayer Is Not Just about Talking to God – In Judaism, we do not do the best job of explaining some basic facts that differentiate prayer and the (perhaps) familiar prayer service.  There is a tradition of personal prayer in Judaism – with countless examples in our literature, but we do not teach it. Instead, we teach communal prayer, which is important, but is not the only type of prayer.  Personal prayers can be said at any time, by any person, in virtually any format – not necessarily even in words.  Communal prayers need to be said with others, and have a particular structure, wording, and timing.  The fact that we have both personal and communal prayer in Judaism teaches us that there is a reason for both.  Judaism considers it important to require the community to come together on a regular basis, not necessarily because it makes the prayer more efficacious, but because face to face contact is an important part of community.  There are vital parts of communal worship that let us know whether someone is in mourning, celebrating, or ill.  Then, because we are together, we can reach out and be there for each other.

Prayer Can Do Some Good - the word for prayer in Hebrew is hitpalel, a reflexive verb.  Good prayer is self-reflective.  Even if we are only asking for something we need, then we need to ask ourselves what we are missing.  Truly good prayer is an opportunity for us to tune out all the static in our lives and focus inward on where we are doing well, where we are not, and where we need help.  The answer to a prayer may be a clearer focus on what we need to do next.  It may be the strength or the insight to act rather than be acted upon.  It may be the silence that allows us to hear the cry of a person near to us.  

Prayer Is Necessary to a Balanced Life - At the High HolyDays, we spoke about punctuation in our lives - that pausing or stopping is necessary for us to appreciate what we have, rather than let it all flow by, unremarked.  What we in Judaism call prayer - is a time-out, a pause, a moment for meditation or appreciation.  How can we be grateful, if we do not take time to realize what we have?  How can we receive help, if we have not taken a moment to ask ourselves what we need?

Prayer Is Not Easy - More on that next month.

Something Old, Something New - August/September 2013

Hashiveinu Adonai, v’nashuvah. Chadeish yameinu k’kedem.

Cause us to turn, O God, and we will return.  Renew our days, as of old. - Lamentations 5:21 & Liturgy

Rosh haShanah is a time for celebration as well as self-reflection.  This year, Temple Sholom has much to celebrate - we mark our centennial year, beginning with our 100th High HolyDays as a congregation, and our new home is under construction in Scotch Plains.  If all goes according to plan, we will mark our one hundred and first Rosh haShanah in our new sanctuary.  As we look forward, we also look back.  One of the constant themes of Judaism is that we define ourselves by our history and the past is often our guide to the future.

During the month of Elul, leading up to the High HolyDays, we are supposed to look back over the past year.  We have one month to examine the past eleven, and determine where we have gone astray.  When we have acted poorly towards others, we are told to acknowledge what we have done wrong, seek out the person or persons we have wronged, offer our apology, and then do what is necessary to make things right.  Only after we have completed those steps, to their satisfaction, can we ask for atonement on Yom Kippur.

One month to repent and repair. One month to seek out all those people we have wronged, even those whose lives briefly intersected with our own.  Perhaps one of the lessons of repentance is to be constantly self-reflective, do as little wrong as possible, and then act quickly to repent.  However, we are all human; we do make mistakes; and all too often we forget in the pressing rush of our lives.

The Jewish calendar, which we will be studying this trimester, is made up of as many stops as gos.  Shabbat is a period marking the end of each week.  Holidays come at sundown, often at the time of the full moon, not conveniently on the nearest Monday to make a three-day weekend.  We think that we are masters of our own calendars, but usually we are dragged on from one appointment to the next, never pausing, never stopping.  To stop, we need to acknowledge something outside of ourselves, be it the holidays ordained by God in the Torah, or kept by the custom of our community.  If we allow the Jewish calendar to be our guide, we may find that being forced to stop and reflect can truly bring the distinction of holiness to our time.

Beginning this Rosh haShanah, let us resolve to take time - time to celebrate, time to rest, time to reflect, time to be together.  Our calendar claims to date back almost six thousand years, to our ancestors’ perceived beginning of time.  Though God took the first Shabbat on day seven, it was another few millennia before our ancestors received the memo - at Mount Sinai.  Since then, we have marked the weeks by resting on Shabbat, the seasons by celebrating harvests at Pesach, Shavuot, and Sukkot, and the years at Rosh haShanah and Yom Kippur.  This repeating cycle is the heartbeat of our Judaism, the pulse and flow of our history and our generational legacy.  We mark these moments together as the sun sets around the world, and across time linking our distant ancestors with our many times descendants.

The Torah, and our tradition, tell us how to mark time - that is how, as in the verse above, we say that God causes us to turn.  However, unless we continue to turn ourselves, we cannot take joy in our rest; we cannot reset our clocks and renew our days.  As in all things, we are in partnership with God.  We imagine what God wants of us, but we still need to carry it out.

L’shanah tovah v’chadashah - a good and new year, to celebrate together each and every moment - of our centennial, our new Temple home, and the lives of our community.