December 25, 2009

Vayigash Gen. 44:18-47-27    

Dear Friends:

Please take a look at the attached photo, “signs.jpg.”  Sorry. I couldn’t resist. In upstate New York, Sabbath Day Point may be 12 miles away. For us, the Sabbath Day is never more than 6 days away. We can be there together tonight (6:00 service so we can open the shelter on time for our guests) and tomorrow morning (two Torah Study groups beginning at 9 with a short service to follow at 10), and every other Shabbat to come.

While I intended to wait until I got on the plane leaving for Israel, I have already started Mitch Albom’s new book, Have a Little Faith, by far his most insightful since Tuesdays with Morrie. Among other things, as with Morrie, in this book, Albom spends a good deal of time with an older, dying mentor. In this case, it is Rabbi Albert Lewis, his childhood rabbi. Albom has made a promise to deliver the rabbi’s eulogy when he dies and wants to get to know him better while he is still living. In the time the two spend together, Albom learns about much more than the details of the rabbi’s life. He learns some great truths of our faith. At one point, the rabbi mourns for the lost sense of community through suburbanization and estrangement. He says, “We were part of each other’s lives. If someone was about to slip, someone else would catch him. That’s the critical idea behind a congregation. We call it a Kehillah Kedoshah—a sacred community.” You have often heard me speak about the meaning of Kehillah Kedoshah, but Rabbi Lewis added a new dimension. I would have said that a Kehillah Kedoshah is when there is someone there to pick you up after you’ve fallen. Of course, there is nothing necessarily holy in that. That’s common. Who can walk by someone who has fallen and not help? On the other hand, knowing someone well enough to anticipate the need is where holiness truly comes in.

It was recently suggested to me that we miss the mark in this regard, especially in response to our older members. You’ll be hearing a lot more about this in the near future. I’m not sure what we will decide on, but we may be looking for people to make check in phone calls. We may be looking for candidates to “adopt a grandparent.” We’re always looking for more people to help with rides and deliveries. You don’t have to wait until we put out the call. Contact Debi Oxenberg or Vivien Rutter now to volunteer. Let’s take the next step to making ourselves into that genuine Kehillah Kedoshah.

While we’re talking about our elders, see the second .jpg attached, “Israel 007.” Most Israelis think of themselves as purely secular, but Jewish tradition, language, and values still infuse Israeli life. This is a sign that you’ll see on every Israeli bus. Despite the cigarette warning next to it, this has nothing to do with smoking. It is a quotation from Leviticus, and a gentle reminder to Israelis: “You shall rise before those with white hair.” Let us rise to the occasion before our elders in anticipation of their needs.

Here’s a good way to start. Tonight, and at least as long as there is snow on the ground, and I hope throughout the year, call older congregants who may be hesitant about coming to services for fears about parking. Invite them to be your guest. Arrange to pick them up. Let’s do our best not to lose the connection.

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

Sincerely,

Jack P. Paskoff,

Rabbi

December 18, 2009

Miketz Gen. 41:1-44:17    

Dear Friends:

I hope Chanukah has treated you all well, and that you have been enlightened and inspired through our celebration.  I hope you’ll join with us tonight at 7:00 (not 7:30 as we do most weeks) to welcome the last night of Chanukah together. Bring your chanukiot and nine candles.  Shabbat dinner begins at 6:00 for those who have made reservations.)

Permit me two more observations on my recent trip to Israel.  I always tell people that you‘re likely to meet someone you know in Israel, or at least someone who knows someone you know.  This trip didn’t disappoint me.  For almost 30 years I’ve walked past the same poster store in Jerusalem.  I never went in because the posters there looked old 30 years ago.  But this trip I had time so I decided to go in.  The owner, a gregarious British immigrant, was speaking with a family of three.  Mother and father spoke with accents that were neither Israeli nor American.  Their teenage daughter was clearly American.  Before long, we got to “where are you from?”  Another few questions and we determined that the family knows our oldest friends in New York, and their daughter goes to school with our friends’ daughter.  Anywhere else in the world and I would say “coincidence.”  In Israel, I say, “This is family.”  Some will say I’m being overly romantic, but I don’t think so.

Observation #2:  I already mentioned the young Ethiopian man I helped served lunch with at the soup kitchen.  I haven’t mentioned Svetlana, the fair skinned, red-headed young woman who worked at the hotel.  It took me a few days to recognize that this black skinned man and this woman with the Russian name were not Ethiopian and Russian.  They were Israelis.  If they happened to have been born elsewhere they likely have no memories of the places.  Israel is their home, Hebrew is their language, and Judaism is their faith.

Now as I write this, it occurs to me that my two observations are really one.  These two young people, the British store owner, the friends of my friends, Sarah Alpert, (formerly of Lancaster, now living in a West Bank town) Dan Jacobson in the midst of his tzahaz basic training, the Moroccan, Yemenite, Iraqi, Iranian, French, German Jew, the Sabra whose Israeli roots run generations deep, and all of us, are brothers and sisters.  Names, skin tones, accents, politics, and manner of observance may be different, but as a people, we are one.

Hineih ma tov u-mah naim shevet achim gam yachad.  Wow!  How good and how pleasant it is that we can all dwell together as one.  Am Yisrael chai.  The people of Israel lives.

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

Sincerely,

Jack P. Paskoff,

Rabbi

December 11, 2009

Vayeshev Gen. 37:1-40:23  

Dear Friends:

Happy Chanukah! May the next eight days be filled with light and latkes, family and friends, as we celebrate our religious freedom and rededicate ourselves to the ideals of our faith. We will light the congregational chanukiah together tonight. Next Friday will be the night for all of us to bring our own chanukiot with nine candles. Sign up now for dinner and plan on being with us for the 7:00 service on the 18th.

By now, I’m suspecting that most of you think you’ve finished your Chanukah shopping. It is my honor to remind you that you haven’t. A couple of weeks ago, a number of us met with Ken Marzinko of the Homeless Student Project in the School District of Lancaster. Along with others around the table, I learned about the plight of these young people who might be the only ones not going on a class trip, might be the only ones not bringing home a class picture, might be the one taunted by his peers for being “the Mission (as in Water Street Rescue Mission) kid,” by kids who are likely only one step above them on the socio-economic ladder. We learned about kids who don’t rush out of school on Friday afternoons because there is no home to return to, and of kids whose primary nutrition comes from free breakfasts and lunches during the week, but would go without meaningful food over the weekend were it not for the Power Packs program. Some of you may see these kids yourselves if you help staff our first week of the emergency shelter beginning on the 21st.

For a number of years now, the Reform movement has been asking that we designate the sixth night of Chanukah as Ner shel Tzedakah, the candle of justice. Instead of worrying about receiving gifts, we ask families to decide to make a difference through a contribution. Here are three things to consider:

1)  We still need shelter volunteers, especially for our second week in February. Please contact Marilyn Stein at or Phil Starr at to sign up or let us know you can bring refreshments.

2)  We need someone to do some driving and delivering for the Power Packs project every Tuesday and Wednesday afternoon. A team of people to share the dates would be fine. Minivan or SUV would be helpful. This will allow for the delivery of vegetables to be included with the weekend meals.

3)  Please bring any of the following items when you come to the Chanukah service next Friday night:

a.  Any school supplies

b.  Toiletries

c.  Boys or girls NEW underwear

d.  New or gently used: socks, sneakers, shoes, boots, coats, jackets, mittens, hats

e.      School District of Lancaster school uniform necessities, all in navy or khaki

i.  Pants. Sizes—boys 4-20, husky 10 ½  - 20 ½, mens 31-46, girls 4-20 ½, junior 3-13

ii.  Polo shirts. Sizes—boys 4-20, mens S-2X, girls 6-20, juniors S-L

4)  Let me know that you can help deliver some of these things to the office of the Homeless Student Project at the Carter and MacRae Elementary School.

Let’s celebrate light and miracles together, and see that others can be safe, warm, fed, and cared for now and throughout the year.

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

Sincerely,

Jack P. Paskoff,

Rabbi

December 04, 2009

Vayishlach Gen. 32:4-36:43  

Dear Friends:

What a difference a week makes! A week ago I was in Israel, having just returned from a brief day trip to Jordan, and now I prepare to leave for Camp Harlam with our junior youth group. Both are away from home, both share qualities of being Jewish “homelands,” but somehow, they are still very different.

It is also an interesting transition from being in Israel to how we became Israel in the first place. In this week’s parasha, this week’s Torah portion, called Va-yishlach, Jacob engages in his famous wrestling match with the man/angel/God, emerging wounded, but still emerging as Israel, the one who wrestled, and in doing so, proved himself worthy.

I watched lots of wrestling last week in Israel. I watched cars wrestling for space, car horns more ubiquitous than even in New York City. I watched people wrestling for space for a little room on public buses. I saw a country wrestling with itself over the meaning of freeing one of her own in captivity even though that assuredly means trading him for terrorists. I myself wrestled with an Orthodox woman’s prejudices as she wondered why I was a Reform Jew and didn’t choose to do things, as she put it, “the right way.” While I didn’t see it on this trip, there have been other times when I’ve witnessed two bearded Chassids wrestling over the meaning of a word in Torah. Why, as a people, would we constantly choose the wrestling match, even though it often leaves us injured?

I’m not quite sure why I have always found glory in wrestling. I don’t want us to find injustice where it doesn’t exist, just so we have something to wrestle over. I don’t want to us to pursue contention for its own sake. I don’t want us to wrestle with the world, just to be able to say I got one step further in some perceived competition. I do, however, want us to wrestle where injustice really exists. I do want us to wrestle to bring the world one step closer to wholeness. I do want us to wrestle, not so much with God, but with ourselves as some of us need to clear out space in the world of our assumptions to make room for the possibility of God. 

Having watched my second son now enter the arena of high school wrestling, and knowing what my nephew goes through on the college level, and while it may be completely obvious to most of you, we don’t step out on the mat without conditioning. Also, perhaps more like the high school team than Jacob, we are not alone in the dark in the wilderness. We stand together as a team, as a people, and we hopefully derive strength from each other. We may not always like everyone on the team. We may not always agree, but we recognize a bond and a mutual commitment, to each other and to our core values.

May this Shabbat give us the courage to fight the fight, the wisdom to know the fight worth fighting, the strength to support those who have already emerged with a limp, and the knowledge that in each true wrestling match, we can find God’s blessing.

Shabbat Shalom u’m’vorach. After speaking about wrestling, is it a paradox to now say, may you have a Shabbat of peace and blessing?

Sincerely,

Jack P. Paskoff,

Rabbi