June 26, 2009

Korach Num. 16:1-18:32

Dear Friends:
A Jewish summer camp experience can be meaningful and magical on many levels. That’s why I work so hard to promote Camp Harlam, and that’s why I was thrilled that over half our students were enrolled in our Shaarai Shomayim Day Camp that ended just a week ago.  Aside from fun and recreation, here are some of the things we learned last week:
1)  2000 years ago, Shammai taught us to greet everyone we meet with a smile. 
2)  Shammai’s colleague, Hillel, taught that the whole Torah could be understood through the words:  “That which is hateful to you do not do unto others.”
3)  In one of our songs, we were reminded of another Hillel saying:  In a place where no one is behaving like a mentsch, you must go out of your way to be a mentsch.
4)  Leviticus tells us that we are to stand in the presence of our elders as a sign of respect.
5) There is a blessing to be said when we see someone with a disability.  It reminds us that God created all different kinds of people.
6)  Shalom, peace in general, is obviously important.  It begins, though, with Sh’lom Bayit, peace in our homes.
This is just some of what our campers learn and hopefully internalized, through songs, stories, games, and crafts, in an environment with great, great adult and teen role models.
From the Talmud, though, we also know that teachers learn from their students, too.  Last week, I met two of my colleagues at the Mikveh to help supervise four conversions.  I asked our campers what they would want new Jews to know about why it’s great to be Jewish.  They spoke about learning Torah, hearing stories and songs, celebrating holidays, preparing and eating delicious foods, and learning Hebrew. One of the younger campers said that one of the best things about being Jewish is that we are different.  I found it interesting that she had already internalized this reality at her age.  I was very pleased that she saw this as something in which she could take pride rather than seeing it as a source of embarrassment.
On Monday I leave for two weeks at Camp Harlam, where over 30 of our congregants will be spending anywhere from two to eight weeks.  I’m looking forward to the teaching I’ll be able to do, but even more so, to the learning.  As always, when I am away, we will continue to be able to meet any congregational needs that may arise.
 
Have a Shabbat Shalom u’m’vorach, a Shabbat of peace and of blessing.

Sincerely,
Jack P. Paskoff,
Rabbi

June 19, 2009

Shelach Num. 13:1-15:41

Dear Friends:

Sometimes Elijah comes on a bicycle.

A few weeks ago, as our Confirmation class was getting ready to sit down for Shabbat dinner before services, two young men brought their bicycles into our social hall, having been invited in by one of the Confirmation parents. It so happened that the parent had reserved for two people for dinner who would not be able to be with us. These two college age men had just ridden up to the Temple. They were looking for a service. They informed us that they were riding from Pittsburgh to Philadelphia and wanted to spend the night in Lancaster. They were sweaty and unshaven. Were it not for lack of an accent, anyone might have mistaken them for Middle Eastern, and I think more than one person in the room wondered if they might even be Palestinian, at least until they saw their lips moving in reciting the prayers in the service.

Why do I say Elijah? Elijah never died; he ascended to heaven in a fiery chariot. Ultimately, he will return to earth as the herald of the Messiah. Until that time, folklore tells us that he shows up every once in a while, usually dressed as a pauper, usually to test our hospitality. Is it possible that these two were Elijah?

We’ve met Elijah on the bike before. He’s actually been our guest over the winter at our shelter for the past two years. He is often late (with permission), as he has to ride over after his shift ends as a nurses’ aide at a nursing home. He does this throughout the winter, late at night. His bike spends the night in between the social hall doors on Duke Street for safekeeping.

The Lancaster County Council of Churches has an interesting project. I was reminded of it a few weeks ago when a congregant asked me if I knew of a place to donate bicycles. The Council will take adult bikes, do basic repairs and maintenance, and then give them to people who need transportation to jobs. What a great way to help someone facing economic difficulties to get back to work.

Yes, my mind may freely associate (that’s the way rabbis think), but here are some great mitzvah opportunities for us. If you’re cleaning your garage and moving the bike that you haven’t ridden in 10 years from one corner to the other, think about donating it. When we put out the call for shelter volunteers in the fall, sign up. When you see someone sitting alone, a stranger who might be looking for a sense of community, invite him or her in as an act of Hachnasat Orchim. You never know when it will be Elijah.

All of this from two kids on bikes

Shabbat Shalom u’m’vorach. Have a Shabbat of peace and of blessing.

Sincerely,

Jack P. Paskoff,

Rabbi

June 12, 2009

Behalotecha Num. 8:1-12:16

Dear Friends:
Next Wednesday night, I will be seeing the Mets play the Orioles in Baltimore. Who can resist ball park hot dogs, pop corn, and for me, my Diet Coke? On Thursday, well before the sun sets, we will have our Shaarai Shomayim Day Camp barbecue. For the 24 hours bracketed by those 2 events, though, I will not be eating. I will be joining Reform rabbis, led by Rabbi David Saperstein, in fasting to raise awareness about the genocide in Darfur. (Rabbi Saperstein will actually be fasting for 3 days, but issued the challenge to Reform rabbis to join him in the last day of his fast.) As I understand it, the parameters of this fast are such that we get to drink water, but not have anything else.

Three years ago, Darfur was the cause that seemed to be most in vogue. There were rallies and events, but those who weren’t watching didn’t even know that thousands were killed, displaced, raped, and starving. The fact that this cause is no longer “fashionable” is in no way an indication that things have gotten better. In fact, as we have moved on, things have gotten worse.

So what will the fast of a relatively few rabbis accomplish? First of all, we are a small part of an international movement started by actress and activist, Mia Farrow. Second, I hope this raises awareness. Please circulate this e-mail to people you know. Let them know what I’m doing. Ask them to challenge their religious leaders. Ask them to fast themselves. Third, borrowing a page from Mazon, I’m going to ask you to fast yourselves and then make a donation.

On Yom Kippur, Mazon asks people to donate the amount of money that they would normally spend on food for the day to their organization to help feed the hungry around the world. I’ll remind you of that in September. For now, send me a check made out to American Jewish World Service for the cost of really just the 2 meals you’ll be missing. I will send all the checks to AJWS with a note that this is for Darfur relief efforts. Of course, if one of those meals is at a major league ball park, the donation to equal the amount of the meal can be considerable.  On Yom Kippur morning, we read the haftarah portion from the book of Isaiah. He challenges us to make our fast meaningful. He is a harsh critic of those who fulfill the ritual, but ignore the intent. Here’s what Isaiah says: Is this the fast I look for? A day of self affliction? Bowing your head like a reed, and covering yourself with sackcloth and ashes? Is this what you call a fast, a day acceptable to the Lord? Is not this the fast I look for: to unlock the shackles of injustice, to undo the fetters of bondage, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every cruel chain? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and to bring the homeless poor into your house? (Isaiah 58).

On Thursday night, join us at our day camp barbecue at the pavilion at the JCC. When the sun sets, I’ll personally grill you a hot dog. We can break our fast together. S’mores too! Let me know to expect you so we have enough food.

Shabbat Shalom u’m’vorach. Have a Shabbat of peace and of blessing.

Sincerely,
Jack P. Paskoff,
Rabbi

P.S. Many thanks to Phil Starr for passing along the information from the Religious Action Center so I could get on board.

June 05, 2009

Naso Num. 4:21-7:89

Dear Friends:

Nathan was possibly my favorite of the prophets. He didn’t get his own book. He didn’t get the great, memorable statements like “Let justice well up as the waters . . .” or “Do justly, love mercy . . .” or “Let them beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks.” His most eloquent speech was only 2 words long in Hebrew, 4 in English translation. When confronting King David in the face of his abuses of power, Nathan told David a parable. David asked him what he was referring to. Nathan answers, “Ata ha-ish. You are the man.” You are guilty. Nathan fearlessly challenged government to do the right thing. I have no doubt that Nathan would have cooked for the homeless, cleaned dirty streets, and used compact fluorescent light bulbs. He would have planted trees, played volleyball to support programs for children with special needs, and read to children in elementary schools in low income neighborhoods. Even in facing the possibility of 18 hours in a van, Nathan would have gone to Mississippi to help rebuild homes and lives.

But he wouldn’t have stopped there and neither can we.

In April, I attended the Consultation on Conscience of our Reform movement. I was grateful to have been joined by Risa, Rosanne Selfon, and Marilyn Stein. During the course of the event, we learned about great community service projects done by other Reform congregations. We also learned that we have done some important things that stand out in our movement. But the program didn’t stop there. We learned that we needed to address root causes of injustice, and that sometimes means challenging government, from the local levels to the national. Tzedek, tzedek tirdof. Justice, justice, we must pursue.

On a congregational level, this is difficult. We share different political beliefs and are affiliated with different political parties. It would be too easy to stay away from the hard issues, not wanting to offend anyone. Certainly, offending is no one’s goal. Facing difficult times can be done in the spirit of respectful disagreement. We can’t shy away.

Now, the program at the Consultation reflected much of what has been the norm for the Reform movement. As a faith group in this country, and as a Reform movement in particular, we have been perhaps too closely aligned with the Democratic Party and with liberal politics. I am not asking for a knee jerk response of any kind. I am asking for us to engage in serious dialogue among ourselves, and to recommend actions to our congregants that speak out for justice and peace. 16 years ago, there was no Temple-wide Social Action (Tikkun Olam) Committee. I was told that this congregation wasn’t interested. I was misled. We just needed to have the door opened for us. Now is the time to take the next step, to wade into the waters of political action. Now is the time to look to Nathan and the other prophets who stood bravely before kings and demanded justice. Yes, sometimes Tikkun Olam means getting our hands dirty in the realm of politics.

Please respond to this. Let me know the issues that are important to you. Let me know that you are prepared for respectful dialogue. Let me know that you are prepared to get involved. It’s a risk, but let’s take it together.

Shabbat Shalom u’m'vorach. Have a Shabbat of peace and of blessing.

Sincerely,

Jack P. Paskoff,

Rabbi