MA NISHTANA HASHANA HAZOT MIKOL HASHANIM?

I know, I know! You saw the two words “Ma Nishtana” and wondered why I would bring up the holiday of Passover when we’re on the cusp of Rosh Hashana - the Jewish New Year?

If you continued to read, you would see that I changed the words that follow; so instead of “Why is this night different from all other nights?”, it reads “Why is this year different from all other years?” And if I wanted to be even more specific, I might have said, “What will make this coming year different from all other years?”

A good question, I think, for us to contemplate together as we approach this most important season in our calendar.

There is no area in which this coming year will be different from last year than with covid-19. President Biden took some heat for declaring that the pandemic is over and perhaps he could have chosen his language more carefully.

The truth, however, is that daily deaths due to other causes such as heart disease, cancer, influenza and stroke exceed the daily mortality rate due to covid-19. Daily deaths from Alzheimer’s disease, lower respiratory disease and diabetes are close to the daily covid-19 mortality rate.

Does that mean that we shouldn’t be concerned about covid? Of course not! But just think about it: in a little over two years, effective vaccines and boosters were produced that have had a profound positive impact on preventing infection and minimizing deaths due to covid.

If you think about the multiple billions of dollars spent  over many decades researching and coming up with treatments for other serious diseases: heart disease, diabetes and cancer among them, diseases which unfortunately seem to be with us for the long haul, it’s truly incredible how the scientific and medical world has been able to combat the coronavirus.

It goes without saying that every death is tragic, every loss of life saddens us.

But there comes a time when we have to look at the facts and come to the conclusion that while the coronavirus is with us to stay - as is influenza, pneumonia, and any other number of illnesses for which we receive vaccinations - it’s a heck of a lot better than it was a year or so ago.

Let’s be realistic: while some things have changed, like having to wear a mask in the doctor’s office (and that’s not going away any time soon, if ever,) our lives have, for the most part, returned to a semblance of the normalcy which we enjoyed (but maybe didn’t fully appreciate) before the pandemic hit. Restaurants, the travel industry, education have in large part returned to where they were in years prior.

That, my friends, is cause for celebration. Be careful? Yes! Get vaccinated and boosted? Yes! Be respectful of the precautions others take? Of course!

But most of all, be grateful. Grateful to have come through the pandemic, grateful to scientists, to physicians, to the healthcare community and to all those who have done their best to keep us safe and healthy. Grateful for the opportunity to go through the annual process of self-examination and reflection which is a cornerstone of this High Holiday season. Perhaps most of all, we should be grateful for a faith that anchors us both in good times and in bad, a faith to which we can turn for strength, for consolation and for inspiration.

May this coming year bring each of us good health, good fortune and a continuing sense of purpose in all that we do.

And yes, may the New Year also bring us continued success in combatting the coronavirus which has so permeated our lives for too long.

Shana Tova Umetuka - a Good and Sweet New Year to each of you.

RING OUT THE OLD, RING IN THE …?

As we come to the end of calendar year 2021, I imagine that you, like me, have mixed emotions about the coming New Year.

There is no doubt that 2021 did not turn out the way we expected it to. Aside from the obvious continuing concerns over the staying power of this pandemic, which affects our daily lives, our children’s education, our economy and more, so much else of concern happened as well this year:

• An attempted insurrection at the Capitol to subvert the presidential election results.

• Continued gun violence, with the national shootings of unarmed people of color and the local surge of shootings here in Philadelphia.

• Growing concerns over the effects of global warming, as evidenced by the exponential growth in extreme weather events across the globe.

• Continued enmity between Israel and its Palestinian neighbors.

• An alarming rise in antisemitic acts, both in the United States and around the world.

The list could go on; I’m sure many of you have your own lists as well.

2021 was a year of extreme stress for all of us because of the upheaval in our lives; it has taken an emotional toll on us all.

What does the new year portend? I am not a fortune teller: I don’t have a crystal ball and I don’t read tarot cards. So while I cannot predict what 2022 will bring us, I can offer the following:

I hope that the coming year will be a better one for each of us, whatever that means and however it plays out. Be it better health, better personal lives, or professional lives, be it happiness or good fortune, be it a renewed sense of purpose, be it a respite from the unrelenting pressure we have all felt, may all that we hope for come to pass.

And yes, an end to the pandemic, a reversal of global warming, a renewed sense of civility and mutual respect, a world of peace and quiet - we’ll take those too.

Happy New Year!

Remembering 9/11 - 20 years later

As we are all painfully aware, tomorrow marks the twentieth anniversary of the 9/11 terror attacks on our country. Thousands of lives lost, families torn asunder, a nation in shock, a world in disbelief.

How could such a horrendous calamity even happen? That question has been discussed and dissected over and over again over these past two decades. There may be answers, but in a sense, there are no answers.

For what did the terrorists accomplish in the end? We as a nation recovered, slow and painful though it was. The world went about its business. Things returned to as much of a sense of normalcy as possible.

Oh, but you say. Our lives have changed, and not for the better. Heightened security everywhere, especially at airports. Continued efforts at inflicting more terror on us and on many other nations in the world. When does it stop?

The sad truth is, we are powerless to put an end to these attacks. As long as there are people in this world who love death more than they love life, the violence will continue. The hatred will continue. The ideology will continue.

It’s an ideology which is anathema to everything we cherish from our Jewish teachings. Uvacharta bachayim - therefore choose life: words that we read just this past Shabbat. Our raison d’être, as it were, is to embrace life and to live a life guided by the principles in our Torah, morals and ethics which have been adopted by all of Western civilization.

V’ahavta l’rei-acha kamocha - love your neighbor as yourself. The “Golden Rule.” How can you love your neighbor as yourself if you want to kill him or her? It is contrary to the most basic principles of decency that we hold sacred.

Perhaps we will be successful in thwarting future attacks as our government works tirelessly to monitor the terrorists. But I don’t believe we can eradicate the terroristic philosophy that drives these zealots to their deadly actions. Only they can change themselves - and as we know from psychologists, a person can only change if they recognize that they have a problem and are committed to doing the work necessary to change their destructive  thinking and actions.

So realistically, what can we do? On a macro level, we can support our government as it continues its efforts to protect us and our nation. On a micro level, we can model the types of behavior that we wish everyone would embrace: be kind, be charitable, be honest and ethical, be accepting and open-minded…just be a good and good-hearted person.

As we approach Yom Kippur, the most sacred day in our calendar, let’s resolve to do better in the year ahead. Let’s resolve to set that example which we are commanded to be - or lagoyim-a light to the nations. And God willing, let this be the year when that light of positivity, of kindness and of love pierces the darkness that lives in the hearts of far too many people in our world.

A g’mar chatima tova to you - may you be sealed for a good year ahead.

NEW YEAR - OR "SAME OLD, SAME OLD?"

What a year it’s been! From climate change to political upheaval, and in the forefront of it all - the continuing pandemic - this has been a year like no other.

Ransomware, covid-19 variants, uncontrolled wildfires, a withdrawal from Afghanistan, devastating weather events, a new government in Israel, a world in turmoil - need I say more?

Somehow we’ve survived it all and are on the cusp of Rosh Hashanah, a New Year.

Rosh Hashanah is described in our liturgy as “Hayom Harat Olam - The Birthday of the World.” So the holiday itself connotes a new beginning for each of us, ripe with opportunities for self-improvement.

For is there any one of us who cannot stand to improve him/herself in any number of ways? We are flawed human beings, created “b’tzelem Elohim - in God’s image,” suggesting that even Hakadosh Baruch Hu - our Holy God, is not without fault. (And that’s a topic for another time!)

How do we go about improving ourselves? Well, it’s not about making “New Year’s resolutions,” which historically do not work. If they did, there would be fewer smokers, more of us in top physical condition, and a slew of dieting success stories.

It’s not about sweeping, dramatic change; it’s more about revising and improving the small things that could end up making a big difference in the quality of our lives.

Are you not a particularly charitable person? Instead of writing one check to one worthy cause, how about supporting a second one as well? 

Do you work too many hours? Instead of taking one large chunk of time, how about carving out a regular block of even a few hours for recreation, relaxation, whatever.

Are you overly self-absorbed? How about making a conscious effort to be present in the moment when in the company of others?

Are you unhappy with your body - it could be your weight or your level of physical fitness? Take the small steps that could add up over the long-term: walk the stairs instead of taking the elevator, or take a walk in your neighborhood and enjoy your natural surroundings. Don’t feel compelled to be a member of “the clean plate club” at each meal, and don’t take a second helping - of whatever.

Are you unhappy with the state of our world, or our country, or your hometown? Well, you probably (definitely?!?) can’t solve the world’s problems, but you can surely make a difference at the local level, which could very well effect the larger picture. So become involved in your own way and at your own pace.

In short, each Rosh Hashanah is a chance to do things a little bit differently, a little bit better.

We can only hope and pray that the year 5782 will not be more of the same. But along with our hopes and prayers, some action certainly couldn’t hurt.

To all, a Shana Tova, M’tukah U-v’riah -  a year filled with goodness, sweetness, and health.

SPRING IS IN THE AIR!

We’ve turned a corner! Temperatures are on the rise, the crocuses and daffodils are in bloom, the trees are budding, the grass is greening up and the days are growing longer.

We’re coming out of a long, too gloomy winter - and not a moment too soon.

Yes, the pandemic is still with us, though we are fighting back with vaccinations, and better treatments and outcomes for those who do contract the virus.

DISCLAIMER: I received my second dose of the Moderna vaccine just a few hours ago, so I am feeling particularly optimistic at this moment!

In a few days, we will celebrate our freedom from slavery as we gather around our tables for the Pesach sedarim which are such an integral part of this holiday’s ritual. Like last year, many of us will be alone or in very small groups, as safety protocols are still in effect. The seder experience may feel different, but the goal is still the same: to reenact our ancestors’ suffering and their subsequent jubilation at being freed from the tyrannical bonds of a cruel Pharaoh - many cruel Pharaohs if you want to be more accurate.

While our homes may not be filled with the voices and energy of extended family and friends, the age-old traditions don’t change. No child to ask the Four Questions? They’ll still be recited. No guests to engage in discussion? There’s plenty of study material in the text of the Haggadah. Nobody to look for the hidden Afikoman? It will still eaten as the “dessert” of the seder ritual. No one at the table complaining that the seder is too long?

I’ve got the perfect solution for that!

The Melrose B’nai Israel Emanu-El community is hosting two virtual sedarim this coming Saturday and Sunday evenings - and everyone is invited to attend! Rabbi Charles Sherman and I will share the privilege of leading you from our respective homes as we livestream through the MBIEE Facebook page. Here’s the web address: https://www.facebook.com/groups/mbiee.org.

The sedarim will begin at 6:30 pm each evening. The first half of the seder will run 6:30-7:15, we’ll break for dinner 7:15-8:00, then reconvene 8:00-8:30 for the balance of the seder. All of the traditional rituals will be included, along with insights from Rabbi Sherman and lots of singing (what else?!?) with me. You’ll have to provide your own food, however!

Pesach is a time to be together as family and as community. While there may be just a few people at your seder table, you shouldn’t feel alone. Join Rabbi Sherman and me for a lovely experience which will leave you smiling (and if you’re a good cook, with satisfied bellies as well!)

Chag Kasher V’sameach - a happy and kosher holiday - and a Zissen Pesach - a sweet Passover to you all.

A BLESSING OR A CURSE?

We begin this New Year with an ending. This week’s parasha, Va-y’chi, is the last portion in the Book of B’reishit - Genesis. It chronicles the end of our forefather Jacob’s life as well.

Before he passes away, Jacob has the opportunity to bless his grandsons, Joseph’s children Ephraim and Menashe, with words that Jewish parents bestow on their sons each Friday night: Y’simcha Elohim k’Efraim V’chi-m’nasheh - May God make you like Efraim and Menasheh.

Jacob addresses his sons with parting words as well. He has words of praise for some of his sons, most especially Judah, Dan, Issachar and Joseph. But he directs harsh criticism at others of his sons, namely Reuben, Shimon and Levi.

We can’t really describe Jacob’s words as “blessings” because some of his sons are not really blessed. They’re not really cursed either; it’s more that Jacob is predicting their futures based on their past behaviors.

Sometimes what is couched as a blessing isn’t really one. You may recall that scene in “Fiddler on the Roof” where the rabbi of Anatevka is asked, “Rabbi, is there a proper blessing for Czar?” He replies, “A blessing? Of course, my son: May God bless and keep the Czar…far away from us!!”

I think we would all agree that 2020 was a year of both blessing and curse. The curse, of course, was the coronavirus pandemic, with its continuing toll both in terms of sickness and death as well as the toll it has taken on so many people’s livelihoods, living circumstances and frames of mind.

The blessing, which arose as a result of the curse, is the many ways in which we have dealt with this crisis: the swift development of an effective vaccine, new and creative ways of communicating and staying in touch with people, and for many of us, a greater appreciation for the things that we do have.

It’s a blessing to be able to focus on, or at least recognize, the positives in our lives during such a difficult time.

As we transition to a new year, we should do so with a sense of optimism. Yes, there is still a long way to go in controlling, if not eradicating, the threat which Covid-19 poses to us all. But we need to focus on the positive strides which are taking place now which will (now that’s optimism!) result in a return to a semblance of normalcy in the coming months.

There’s no question that this past year has changed us in many, many ways. I hope that you can say, as did Elphaba and Glinda in the Broadway musical “Wicked,” “I do believe I have been changed for the better.”

May 2021 be a better year for all of us!!

The Lights Are Getting Brighter!

What a Chanukah this has been!

In the midst of an unrelenting pandemic, we have found creative ways to connect with family and friends during this time of masks, social distancing and quarantining.

Some of us have celebrated in pods of family or friends. Others of us have used the magic of FaceTime or Zoom to virtually observe the holiday together. Still others have celebrated in a personal and intimate way within their own households.

No matter how you’ve done it, there’s no question that this is a Chanukah none of us will soon forget!

As we reach the eighth and final day of the holiday, our chanukiot will be at their brightest with a full complement of candles filling each space. What a warm feeling to see all of that light shining in our homes.

You may be aware of the dispute between Rabbis Hillel and Shammai as to how the menorah should be lit. Shammai suggested that the first night contain all eight candles so that the holiday would start of “with a bang,” as it were. On each successive night, one less candle would be lit until just one candle would be lit on the final night.

Hillel proposed the exact opposite: Day one should have one candle, day two, two, and so on. He said that by the final night, the full glory of the holiday would be on display.

As you know, it’s Hillel’s practice that we follow, and it does make sense. The climax of lighting a full chanukiah on the final night is stunning in its power and its message.

This has been a very dark time for our country and our world. The pandemic has taken a horrific toll in lives lost, both here in America and across the globe. 

It has taken a tremendous toll on all of us as well. Too many have lost their jobs and are in danger of losing their homes or apartments as well. Too many of our children are struggling with virtual schooling with its inherent obstacles. Too many small businesses have closed or will soon. Too many of us are dealing with the emotional stress that comes from working from home, monitoring our children’s online learning, following the safe practices of masking and social distancing, and generally worrying a lot more than we were pre-pandemic.

The lesson of the Chanukah lights is especially appropriate for this year: Just as the lights grow brighter with each night of the holiday, so too are we seeing a glimmer of hope, a “light at the end of the tunnel,” with the pandemic. Though things will (unfortunately) continue to be bad in the coming months, the promise that comes with the beginning of inoculations  against Covid-19 is certainly a reason for optimism.

I know you join me in the hope that 2021 will be a much better year than 2020. “From our mouths to God’s ears!”

LEMONADE FROM LEMONS

You’ve heard it a million times: “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.”

I imagine many of us are thinking that these days, what with the unrelenting onslaught of the coronavirus pandemic and what it’s done to so many of our plans, tomorrow’s Thanksgiving celebration chief among them.

Life can be bitter, that’s for sure. But there’s sweetness to be found in even the most bitter circumstances; you just have to look for it:

Are you bitter because you’re being denied the opportunity of being with family and friends tomorrow? At least you’ve got family and friends!

Are you bitter because you can’t go on that extravagant vacation you were planning? Think of the money you’re saving!

Are you bitter because you’re stuck at home and can’t go out? Think of how great it is that there’s online shopping!

Are you bitter because your synagogue is closed to in-person worship? Thank God for the blessing of technology that makes virtual services possible!

Are you bitter because you can’t go out to your favorite restaurant? There’s always take-out and home delivery!

Yes, it can be difficult to find the sweetness that can turn the bitter lemon into tasty lemonade. But you - and I - all of us can find the sweet.

As Noami Shemer wrote in her iconic song “Al Kol Eileh,” (and I’m paraphrasing here,) there’s the sting of the bee, but there’s also the honey; there is bitterness but also sweetness in life.”

I guess you really can’t have one without the other.

And now for a little levity:

“When life gives you lemons, learn to juggle.”

“When life gives you lemonade, don’t try to make lemons.”

“When life gives you a lemon, take it. Don’t waste food.” 

“When life gives you lemons, you tell life to get a life because lemons are a terrible gift.” 

“When life gives you lemons, say, ‘Cool, what else you got?’” 

“When life gives you lemons, make champagne, and leave the whole world wondering how you did it!” 

And with my apologies to you, this one from me:

“When life hands you an etrog, make etrog marmalade!”

Enjoy your Thanksgiving, whatever form it takes. Enjoy the turkey, the stuffing, the yams, the cornbread, the cranberry sauce, the pumpkin pie and the hot apple cider…and don’t forget the lemonade!

The Case for Equality

This is a time of beginnings. 

First and foremost, it’s the week when we begin to read the Torah once again, the start of an annual cycle which repeats from year to year.

Some of the teachings in the Torah are so basic that it begs the question, “Why bother reading this stuff over and over again?”

Some of the teachings are so obtuse that they seem to defy any logical explanation or understanding, begging the question, “Why bother to even try?”

The truth is that there is always something new to learn from the Torah, even if it is just an amplification of a concept or idea that we already know.

We live in an age of inequality. Sad but true. In the United States of America, purportedly the greatest nation on earth, inequality is pervasive, both overtly and in subtle ways.

Let’s admit it: there is still inequality between the sexes. There is inequality for Black Americans, Native Americans, Latinos, Asians and more. There is inequality in educational opportunities and job opportunities. There is inequality in who can live where. There is prejudice, which is in itself a form of inequality.

And yet, this goes against the teachings of the Torah, a book that is revered by Jews and Christians alike as the divine word of God, and a book whose ethics and morals are respected by many other faith communities as well.

The story of creation makes it very clear that all people, regardless of sex or sexual orientation, color of skin, country of origin, religious beliefs, or anything else that could serve to divide rather than unite, are equal.

Where do we find this? Why, in the very first chapter of Genesis, where it reads, “And God created man in His image, in the image of God He created them; male and female, He created them.” This description of the creation of humankind is repeated, albeit with slightly different wording, in chapter 5, where it reads, “When God created man, He made him in the likeness of God; male and female He created them.”

There is so much to “unpack” in these few sentences:

• The text makes it clear that the first people, from which all of humankind was descended,  were created b’tzelem Elohim, in the image of God. The implication is that God possesses all of the possible qualities of any person. God is not just male, not just female; God encompasses all sexual identities. God does not have one skin color; God represents humankind in all of its rich and varied ethnicities. God has no beginning and no end; in a similar sense, there is no limit to what any person is capable of achieving, given an equal opportunity to do so.

• “Male and female He created them.” While it is true that the narrative indicates that man was created first, woman is referenced in the very next sentence. And yes, there is the narrative of God taking one of Adam’s ribs and fashioning woman from it, a clear indication that man was created before woman. But to infer from that the idea that women are somehow inferior to men is antithetical to our understanding that both Adam and Eve have Godliness to them. To those who would argue, “I’m just following what the text says - man is first, woman is second,” I would respond that you can’t pick and choose which texts to take literally and which are open to interpretation. The sad truth is that male-dominated societies have taken advantage of the opportunity to interpret text as a means for moving their sexist agendas forward for far too long. The same can be said of anyone who advances an agenda which is going to diminish other human beings in the process.

So what’s the lesson in all of this? Well for starters, the message is that we have so much work to do to eliminate the inequalities that are holding too many people back. We have to examine our own practices to be sure that we are not inadvertently adding to or acquiescing to the inequalities that are all around us. As Jews, we must take the responsibility of being “or lagoyim - a light to the nations” seriously, to model the behaviors we wish to see in others and to tirelessly pursue the attainable - yes, attainable - goal of a more just society.

It starts with each of us, so let’s get to work!

ROSH HASHANAH WISHES

The Jewish New Year is at hand. According to tradition (but certainly not backed up by science!) the world was created just about 5781 years ago.

In fact, one of the core prayers of the Musaf Amidah on Rosh Hashanah says “Hayom harat olam - on this day the world came into being.” An alternate translation says simply, “Today is the birthday of the world.”

What do we do when we celebrate a birthday? We have a cake. For most children, there are candles on the cake representing each year of their lives. (That might be dangerous for the rest of us: beyond a certain age, that number of candles would present a serious fire hazard!)

And what do we do before we blow the candles out? We make a wish, most commonly to ourselves; many of us were taught as children that if we said the wish out loud it wouldn’t come true.

So it stands to reason that on the day which represents the birthday of the world, we should express our wishes for the year ahead. Not resolutions: this isn’t New Year’s Eve! But wishes, expressing our deepest and most heartfelt desires for the year to come.

Of course, the primary wish of every Jew - and it is a major theme of the High Holidays - is that each of us be granted another year of life. Many of the t’filot reference life and the wish that we be worthy of one more year on this earth. Why do we acknowledge and atone for our sins of the prior year on Yom Kippur? To show God that we are sincere  in our intentions and so are deserving of God’s compassion of granting us that most precious gift: the gift of life.

But it’s a time as well to express our hopes and dreams, our aspirations and desires for the coming year. Unlike that birthday wish which must be kept secret, our hopes should be shared with those we love and care about.

Let’s face it: this has been a crazy year! And the craziness isn’t over yet. We have a pandemic, which has  inalterably changed our lives. We have had - and are still having - wild weather events: hurricanes, tornados, excessive rainfall, uncontrolled fires and more. We have the continuing quest for racial equality in America as represented by the Black Lives Matter movement. We have a presidential campaign which seems to get uglier with each passing day. The list goes on…

However, amid all of the negative headlines are many, many stories of goodness, of kindness, of laughter and smiles, of celebration and of rejoicing. I just read an article entitled “Good News Prevails: 100 positive things that happened in 2020 (so far.)” Here are just a few of those heartwarming stories:

• A 103-year-old woman beat COVID-19 and celebrated with a Bud Light.

• Restaurants shared their secret recipes so we could make them at home.

• Americans rushed to adopt and foster pets in need amid the pandemic.

• Puzzles and board games became cool again.

• Crayola launched a box of crayons with diverse skin colors for children to “accurately color themselves into the world.”

• NASA named its Washington, DC headquarters after Mary W. Jackson, its first Black female engineer.

There are 94 more, but you get the idea!

As the Israeli song Al Kol Eilah says, we have to take the bitter with the sweet. This year, it may be more accurate to say, “we’ll take whatever sweetness we can find among the bitterness which surrounds us.”

It’s with mixed emotions that we approach this New Year. We may not be physically present with our extended family. We probably will “attend” services through the technology of Zoom, Facebook and YouTube as our synagogues remain closed. We wonder if things will ever be the same.

And so it’s a time for wishes. What do I wish for? I wish for very simple things:

• I wish for an end to this terrible pandemic.

• I wish for a year of good health for all of us.

• I wish for a kinder, gentler nation - in ways too numerous to list.

• I wish to love and be worthy of being loved in return.

• I wish for happiness, in all of its many and varied forms.

• I wish for a year of fulfillment through living a life of purpose.

• I wish for you all that you wish for yourselves.

L’shana tova tikateivu v’teichateimu - may each of you be written and sealed for another year of life, another year of living that life in a way that brings you joy and contentment.

FOR THE TIMES THEY ARE A-CHANGING

Here it is, the beginning of September. Summer is over, right? No! It’s all downhill from here, right? No! The leaves are starting the change color, right? Say it isn’t so! Covid-19 is a distant memory, right? We wish!

There’s no question that the month of September is a turning point in the year. Summer vacations have come and gone. School is beginning soon, albeit virtually for many students. The election season heats up for the next eight weeks. And the High Holidays are just around the corner.

This is certainly the year that times have changed and are continuing to change. The coronavirus pandemic continues virtually unabated with the ongoing disruption to our lives that we have all encountered. Of the literally thousands of posts and cartoons I’ve seen about the pandemic, one of my favorites is the one that says, “the worst investment I made this year was in buying a 2020 calendar!” Sad but true. How our lives have changed these past six months.

Our children of all ages have returned or are about to return to school and college. The “new reality” is something we could not have imagined a year ago: distance learning, hybrid models of instruction, college campuses opening and then closing because of Covid-19 outbreaks. Parents who have never done so before home-schooling their children. How the lives of our children have changed over these past six months.

Our country is in a period of change as well. The tragic loss of Black lives at the hands of law enforcement, the peaceful rallies marred by the violent actions of a small minority, the continuing debate over the removal of Confederate statues, the actions of professional athletes in solidarity with the legitimate aspirations of Blacks in America. All of this as a backdrop to what is shaping up to be the most contentious presidential election in recent history. I wish I could say, “how the face of America has changed over these past six months,” but the reality is, the injustices within our society and the decline of political civility is but a continuation of long-standing behaviors and practices. Perhaps we’ll be able to soon say, “how the face of America is changing for the better each and every day.”

What of the High Holidays? In so many ways, these Holy Days will be as they always have been: the observances of Selichot, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur will take place in synagogues and other settings throughout the world. And yet, so much has changed: Most congregations are holding their services virtually, with no in-house attendance. Some are allowing for very limited in-house attendance with appropriate precautions and social distancing in place. Some congregations are pre-recording their services while others will livestream in real time.

Who could have imagined not being able to enter your house of worship at all? Or not being able to enter it without a mask and a temperature check and having to sit far apart from your fellow congregants? Who could imagine being instructed not to sing loudly, if at all, in that very sanctuary, so as to minimize the spread of possibly infected droplets? Who could have imagined watching services on your television, or your computer, your tablet or even your phone? How our ritual practices have changed over the past six months.

What has not changed, however, is what these High Holidays are all about. They are about change: changing our lives for the better, recognizing, acknowledging and confronting that within us which is in need of positive change. You can engage in that process of self-examination no matter where you are. You can hear the tefilot, the prayers, no matter where you are. You can have an uplifting, inspiring and authentic spiritual experience no matter where you are.

One of the main themes of the High Holidays is teshuva, often translated as repentance, but which literally means “turning.” We want to turn our lives around, to make them even better than they currently are. What does it mean to turn things around? It means to change. And so this Holy Day season is our opportunity for just that.

So much of our lives has changed over these past six months, and not necessarily in a good way. For Jews, this is our time to embrace change in the most positive way, so that we can say, as did Elphaba and Glinda, the witches in “Wicked,” “I do believe I have been changed for the better.” Kein y’hi ratzon - so may it come to pass.

WHEN WILL I SEE YOU AGAIN?

As the Covid-19 pandemic shows no signs of abating (unfortunately,) I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the words to this song:

When will I see you again?

When will we share precious moments?

Will I have to wait forever?

Will I have to suffer and cry the whole night through?

The song, written by Kenny Gamble and Leon Huff, was released in 1974 by the group The Three Degrees. While it describes the longing of a woman for a man, with her asking “are we in love or just friends?”, the first verse especially speaks to life in America today.

For those of us who have been scrupulous in following the recommendations of the Centers for Disease Control, wearing masks, socially distancing ourselves, frequently washing our hands, we are faced each and every day with that question: “When will I see you again?”

Yes, we have FaceTime, yes, we have Zoom, yes, we have the other virtual platforms by which we can see and interact with other people, but no, it is not the same as being face-to-face with friends and family. And no, it does not take the place of a hug, a kiss, or even just a reassuring touch.

This lack of physical interaction brings with it a host of implications, summed up by Gregg Lavoy, writing in “Psychology Today:” “Touch is social glue, and without it, we're in danger of becoming un-glued.” Underscoring its primacy in our lives, he continues: “Touch is the first of the five senses to develop in utero and the last to go.”

So how do we cope with this loss of tactile connection? There are lots of suggestions in a myriad of articles which can be accessed online, too many to outline here. Here are but a few of them:

• For those of you living in a household with other family members, make a concerted effort to connect physically with each other.

• For anyone, talking through a video chat format at least gives you the ability to see the other person. If speaking by phone, look at a photo of that person during your conversation.

• When you’re out, taking a walk or whatever, make it a point to wave at your neighbors, to greet each other, even to have a socially distanced conversation. (Personally, I’ve gotten to meet a number of neighbors I never knew before over these past months.)

• Try to busy yourself with stimulating activities, such as learning a new skill, reading favorite books, trying out new recipes, etc.

• Exercise! It will improve your mood.

Most importantly - and this can be tough - try to remain positive and optimistic. Many great minds are working feverishly to develop a vaccine which will protect us from the coronavirus. Their efforts are already showing great promise, and we should remain hopeful that soon we will have access to that protection.

In the meantime, try not to get hung up on what is at this time an unanswerable question: “When will I see you again?” 

It will happen!

THE BREATH OF LIFE

Breathing is one of those daily miracles that we take for granted. Whether awake or asleep, our lungs provide the oxygen which nourishes and sustains our bodies.

The importance of breath is expressed clearly at the beginning of the Torah where in Chapter 2 of Genesis we read, “va-yipach b’apo nishmat chayim va-y’hi ha-adam l’nefesh chaya - (and God) blew into his nostrils the breath of life and the human became a living being.”

We thank God for the gift of life every day when we say “Elohai, n’shama shenatata bi t’horah hi...Atah n’fachta bi - God, the soul which you have given me is pure; You breathed it into me.”

If we’ve learned nothing else from the Covid-19 pandemic, it’s how important it is that we be able to breathe. In the early weeks of the outbreak, governors were pleading for ventilators to keep the sickest patients alive. How many died when their lungs just gave out?

And now, in the aftermath of the senseless death of George Floyd, the words “I can’t breathe” have become the rallying cry for protestors throughout the United States and abroad.

How ironic is it that police have to resort to the use of tear gas, which inhibits the ability to breathe, to dispel protestors who have become violent?

What we need so desperately in these difficult and tumultuous times is breath - and air. How many phrases like the following are appropriate right now?

“Let’s clear the air.” We need dialogue, not confrontation.

“A breath of fresh air.” We need new ideas, new approaches, new understanding to effectively combat the systemic racism that still pervades our American society.

“Take a deep breath.” We need to step back from the emotions of the moment in order to confront the issues with a clear mind and rational thought.

“Breathe easy.” We hope for a day when all people, of all races, creeds, religious beliefs, sexual orientations and nationalities will be able to “breathe easy,” secure in the knowledge that they are safe wherever they live, wherever they work, wherever they worship and wherever they travel.

There is no life without breath, there are no people without breath, there is no humanity without breath. Let’s use our breath and the bodies it powers, to become agents for real change. If we succeed, the results are guaranteed to be breathtaking.

NEW NORMAL OR NEW REALITY?

It’s hard to believe that more than two months have elapsed since our country went into lockdown over fears of Covid-19 and its potential for widespread contagion, sickness and death.

Those fears have proven to be well-founded, as the death toll in America stands at 80,000 and rising. Though the curve has flattened in most of the metropolitan areas where it first mushroomed, we’re now seeing the virus spread to other, less densely populated areas.

This has been and continues to be a scary time for us. No one wants to get sick, certainly not to the degree of those unfortunate individuals whose stories have appeared in the media.

At the same time, we can’t put our lives on hold indefinitely. The tension between wanting to resume life and wanting to remain healthy is playing out in many states this week. It remains to be seen if there will be renewed outbreaks in those states or whether adequate safeguards are in place that will help to protect the people who follow those protocols.

What will this next phase look like? No one knows for sure, but one thing is certain: we won’t be going back to the way things were. There’s going to be a new reality for all of us. Notice that I do not use the term “new normal,” because there’s nothing normal about how we will be adapting to maintain our health. There will, however, be a “new reality” that will govern our lives.

They say that “change is good.” Well, I don’t for sure who says that, but it’s a phrase we’ve heard many, many times! As an optimist, I have to believe that there will be good things that emerge from this pandemic. I’m not a prophet so I can’t predict what the future will bring. But I can subscribe to the sentiment of Israeli composer David Broza who wrote a song years ago entitled “Yihiyeh Tov.” The translation is “things will be good.” He wrote the song in a different era for a different reason, but the message is as relevant for us today: Be positive and good things will happen. 

No, there are no guarantees, but I’ll take hope over hopelessness any day.

Stay safe, stay healthy and stay positive!

PLAGUE OR OPPORTUNITY?

This year promises to be the strangest Pesach we have ever celebrated!

We will be alone in our homes with just those who live under our roofs. We will share the seder, if at all, only virtually, through the magic of FaceTime or Zoom. We may not have been able to get all of the necessary foods to properly observe the holiday.

There are those who point to the irony of sitting at the seder table enumerating Ten Plagues when in reality, what we are dealing with - this pandemic - can in fact be described as a plague - the eleventh plague, if you will. Perhaps we should remove an additional drop of wine in recognition of today’s plague.

There are those who, when they read about the Four Sons (or in our more enlightened era, the Four Children,) have the custom of adding a reading about a fifth child - the one who is not even present at the table. Perhaps it is because of estrangement, perhaps it is because of illness, perhaps it is because of death (God forbid.) The truth is that for so many of us, there will be no children (or grandchildren) gracing our table this year.

And yet, rather than dwelling on what we will be missing this year, let me suggest that we focus instead on that which we do have: our good health, reflected in our being able to observe the thousands-year old tradition of the seder; the blessing of technology which will enable so many of us the be with our family and friends, even if only virtually; the freedom which we enjoy in a free society - notwithstanding the very real restrictions with which we are coping at this time; the opportunity to truly connect with those closest to us - our parents, spouses, children, siblings and friends in a way which perhaps we have never done before.

So I challenge you to look at this year’s Passover observance not as a negative, but rather as an opportunity to celebrate in new and different ways; to connect with loved ones in new and different ways; to pray in new and different ways; and to cherish the blessings in your life in new and different ways.

When we say Ma nishtanah halaila haze mikol haleilot - why is this night different from all other nights - I hope that you will be able to articulate in your heart those differences which deserve to be celebrated.

My best wishes to you for a Chag Kasher V’sameach - a sweet and kosher Pesach!

R’FUAT HANEFESH, R’FUAT HAGUF 2.0

So here we are, three weeks since my last post, when the magnitude of the Coronavirus pandemic was not yet fully understood - and the situation has deteriorated exponentially.

Schools are closed, only the most essential services and businesses are open, many millions of Americans in multiple states are under a “shelter at home” order, and the number of confirmed cases - and sadly, fatalities - grows with each passing day.

How do we cope with the relentless onslaught of discouraging news? I believe the answer lies in the Mi Shebeirach prayer for healing which I discussed in my previous post.

There, I referenced the phrase r’fuat hanefesh - a healing of the spirit - and suggested that even when we know that physical healing is unlikely, we can still hope that our spirits can find peace and a sense of healing.

Today, I’d like to suggest a slightly different interpretation: even though the phrase r’fuat hanefesh precedes r’fuat haguf - a healing of the body - implying that you can have one without the other, perhaps it is when we are healthy that we are still in need of r’fuat hanefesh.

Most of us, thank God, have not contracted Covid-19, and if we continue to follow the recommended guidelines prudently, there’s a good chance that we won’t.

But even though we are physically healthy, we may not be in such good shape emotionally. Dealing with the “new reality” of this time (and notice, I didn’t say “new normal,” because there’s nothing normal about our lives these days) is extraordinarily stressful.

We’re all fearful of contracting the disease. Some of us continue to work in essential professions, with the constant threat of exposure to the virus. Many of us have lost our jobs and don’t know how we will be able to pay our bills. Parents are dealing with children no longer in school or childcare, who need to be nurtured, cared for, educated and entertained. (There must be a lot of baking projects taking place these days; my supermarket was sold out of flour!)

Through it all, it is essential that we keep, to the greatest extent possible, a positive attitude that the day will come when we can return to a semblance of normalcy in our lives.

How do we achieve that r’fuat hanefesh? To quote Elizabeth Barrett Browning, “...let me count the ways:” There’s prayer, of course - a full service or perhaps a favorite prayer or Psalm. There’s mindfulness - meditation, yoga and the like. There’s exercise and eating well - keeping our bodies healthy. There’s engaging in a favorite pastime, or starting a new hobby. There’s connecting to our family members in meaningful and intimate ways. There’s directing our efforts at helping those in less fortunate circumstances than us - giving tzedakah, checking in on the most vulnerable among us.

And there’s music, the universal language. Music has the power to soothe us, to inspire us, to strengthen us.

On the “Audio Clips” page of this web site, you’ll find a song entitled “B’yadcha Afkid Ruchi.” It’s a song of strength, a song expressing faith in God’s protecting care. Perhaps its message will speak to you.

May our world be blessed bimheira v’yameinu - speedily and in our day - with the twin gifts of r’fuat nefesh and r’fuat haguf.

R'fuat Hanefesh, R'fuat Haguf

The world is in an uproar.

Fears of a pandemic of the Coronavirus have shaken world leaders. Financial markets are in a tailspin. People are concerned, they are frightened.

Who to believe? The statisticians who use numbers to show that most people have a better chance of winning the lottery than of dying from the virus? The scientists who demonstrate through their studies the truly catastrophic potential of this virus? The political leaders, on both sides of the aisle, who spin the facts to suit their own agendas?

Who to believe? That might be the scariest part of all.

With this heightened concern should also come an understanding that we as Jews have a potent antidote at our disposal - prayer. When we recite the special Mi Shebeirach prayer for healing, we ask for God’s divine help in attaining two levels of health: r’fiat hanefesh, r’fiat haguf - a healing of the spirit and a healing of the body.

The construction of this prayer is interesting in that it asks for healing of the spirit before healing of the body. We understand that sometimes physical healing cannot reasonably be expected; at the least, we hope that those who are sick can experience a healing of their spirit whereby they are at peace with their condition.

This is not to say that the current situation is so dire that we can only hope to be at peace with a devastating outcome.

In fact, we can be strengthened in the knowledge that, as the saying goes, “God helps those who help themselves.” Right now, that help is coming from Israel, where scientists who have been working on a vaccine for the Coronavirus over the past several years predict that they could have a viable vaccine ready for testing in a matter of a few short months.

Once again, our Israeli compatriots are at the forefront of a significant advance that has the potential to be life-saving on a global level. Kol hakavod - all honor - to them!

In the meantime, let’s all try to keep a level head as we follow, with justified concern, the progress of this disease.

An extraordinary evening of remembrance

Forty-one years ago, I composed a Holocaust cantata with the (purposefully) innocuous title “Childhood Memories.” Through narration and song, it tells the story of one survivor’s experience during those terrible years.

I wrote this work for a children’s choir I was conducting at a congregation in Lexington, Massachusetts. Hearing the music sung by sweet, innocent voices added to the emotional impact of the message.

The score and a professional recording reside in a number of Holocaust collections around the country and across the world.

Over the course of many years, “Childhood Memories” has been presented at synagogues, schools and Holocaust remembrance events.

Some five years ago, I was contacted by a Jewish community leader in Columbia, Maryland inquiring about obtaining permission to present the work at a Yom Hashoah event there. Of course I agreed, and it was adapted and enhanced with additional music, poetry and staging.

Last evening, I had the privilege of attending the latest iteration of “Childhood Memories” at an event commemorating the 75th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz held in Columbia. A standing-room only audience of several hundred people heard messages of solidarity from local officials as well as the cantata.

It was a powerful moment for me, seeing my creation given a sensitive, yet dramatic interpretation. The singers and performers were somewhat older than my choirs which presented the work, yet the message was conveyed in an equally effective way.

I was especially moved when several of the performers approached me afterwards to share how learning and performing this piece has helped to shape their lives and their understanding of the imperative to “never forget.” They realize that all too soon, there will be no survivors left to tell the story and that they, as the next generation, must do so in order to insure that such a tragedy never happens again.

Tisha B’Av is the day when we recall not only the destruction of both the First and Second Temples in Jerusalem, but also many subsequent tragedies which befell our people over the course of time. Because of the enormity of the Holocaust, it has its own commemorative day, Yom Hashoah V’hagevurah. Let’s hope that never again will we have reason to add another tragedy to our calendar.

Giving the gift of life

Next week I will be donating blood for at least the 150th time in my adult life.

I remember as a child accompanying my father Morris, of blessed memory, to the blood drives held at our synagogue where he would donate on a regular basis. Through his example, I learned at a young age the importance of blood donations.

When I began my studies at the University of New Hampshire, I started to donate at the drives that were held on campus. Since then, I have donated regularly, not only in New Hampshire, but also in Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Florida and Pennsylvania.

Honestly, I hate needles (who doesn’t?!?) but I derive great satisfaction from knowing that I may be helping to save lives - as many as seven lives per donation - through this simple act.

And yet, too few people are willing to make the commitment to give. According to statistics, fewer than ten percent of eligible people donate blood. While the need for blood is constant, there are often shortages because of a lack of donors.

What does Judaism have to say about donating blood? Obviously there is no mention of this in the Torah, as it predates by thousands of years the medical knowledge that we have today. However, there are references from which we can infer that blood donation is not just permitted, is not just desirable, but is in fact an imperative for those who can do so.

In the book of Leviticus, Chapter 19, verse 16, we read: “lo ta-amod al dam rei-echa - do not stand idly by the blood of your neighbor.” This verse has been interpreted to mean that we must do what we can, within reason, to save the life of a person in danger. On a more universal note is the directive: “v’ahavta l’rei-acha kamocha - love your neighbor as yourself.” If we were in need of a blood transfusion, wouldn’t we want others to come for forward to help us at that moment? And so we have a responsibility, an obligation to give if we are physically able to.

We know that blood is the life force of all living creatures and is to be treated with the utmost of respect. That is why the Torah instructs us not to eat the blood of an animal that we have killed for food. To this day, one of the fundamental laws of kashrut is the draining of blood from meat before it is cooked. In a real sense, blood is sacred.

As Jews, we have a moral imperative to donate blood. If you already do, then kol hakavod - good for you! If you don’t, then now is the time to begin. If you have young children, bring them with you so that they can witness your act of chesed - lovingkindness, and learn a valuable lesson. Encourage your family members and friends to donate. 

The power to save lives is coursing through your veins; be generous and share it with those who need it. Not only will you help others, but you will help yourself by feeling good about your act of kindness!

They say you can't go back, but...

There are many sayings to the effect of “you can’t go back.”

What do they mean?

The usual explanation is that once you’ve left something behind, you can’t recapture it. You can’t go back to your childhood, you can’t go back to the way things were, you can’t relive your first love, and so on.

It has also come to mean that once you’ve left a place of employment, you can’t return to it at any point in the future.

This past weekend, though I had such an experience. I returned to one of my previous synagogues, Congregation Beth Israel in Worcester, MA, as its Scholar-in-Residence. I served “the B.I.,” as it is affectionately referred to by its members, for over eleven years, from 1989-2000.

I have returned to Worcester many times over the years to visit friends with whom I have maintained close relationships, but I had never before returned in any “official” capacity.

Doing so this past Shabbat was a revelation for me. I encountered many people whom I had not seen for nineteen years. Seeing them reminded me of why my years in Worcester were such an important and meaningful part of my professional career.

It wasn’t just that we were glad to see each other - we were! It was also that we got to relive significant moments of our respective lives during those years. Person after person approached me to share their memories of how I had impacted them and their families.

I heard stories of children I had prepared for their B’nai Mitzvah, families for whom I had been present during times of sickness and loss. I encountered couples at whose weddings I officiated who proudly showed off their children to me. A past president thanked me for helping him to become comfortable on the bimah during his presidency. One friend told me that hearing me chant Kol Nidre one year inspired her to write a book. Another gave me two c.d.’s recorded by her daughter, now a respected professor of music and an accomplished harpsichordist. She and I sang duets on the High Holidays when she was a teen.

At Shabbat morning services and at the coffeehouse I presented Saturday night, several former students, now in their thirties, came to hear me davven and perform.

It was at once gratifying and overwhelming. Could I possibly have touched so many lives in so many ways? Apparently the answer is “yes.”

Sometimes it takes the perspective of years to realize one’s accomplishments. And sometimes one has “to go back” in order to do so.

My return to “the B.I.” was an experience that I will not soon forget and a reminder to me of why I became a cantor. I’m so glad I did!