A few years ago I commented on Stuart Brown's wonderful book Play and how we all have to remember how meaningful play, playfulness and fun can/need to be in our lives. Now I'm reading the recently published Lip Service by Marianne LaFrance, in which she explores the psychology, biology, and social intricacies of one of the most common of our human behaviors, the smile.

From the shy glance to the $#!t-eating grin, there is a great deal of science behind how, when, and why we smile. It's fascinating stuff - and ultimately, who cares! What I want to know is what makes YOU smile? Go on, make my day...

Riding the Underground Railroad to the Passover Seder

Today, April 6, 2012, is the 150^th anniversary of the Battle of Shiloh, the first “great and terrible” battle of the Civil War. (In his new book, Shiloh, 1862, author Winston Groom examines how this battle, which “solved nothing, gained nothing, proved nothing” was a turning point for how military and political leaders understood the gravity of the war, and the unfathomable casualties that would follow).

Tonight is also the beginning of Passover, the celebration of Israelite freedom from Egyptian slavery and the perpetual Jewish hope to bring redemption to all who are oppressed, wherever they may be. For this reason, we refer to this season as z’man chereteynu – the “time of our freedom.”

There have always been parallels drawn between the experience of the ancient Israelites at the hands of Pharaoh and that of the African slaves here in the U.S. This is poignantly shown at Passover, especially while sharing the narratives during the seder itself.

This Passover, the compelling analogies have taken on an even greater significance: during this past week while in Cincinnati, I visited the National Underground Railroad Freedom Center (www.freedomcenter.org); this fascinating museum chronicles the history of the Underground Railroad and teaches once again how the effort to abolish slavery in this country was among the greatest accomplishments ever undertaken by our forebears, and yet its challenges still saddle our society today. This visit was so powerful as I went with my children – who have reached the point of being able to understand and appreciate the profound meaning of our past, as well as to personalize its questions. As the Haggadah demands: “in each generation a person must consider himself as if personally freed from Egypt.”

Driving home from the Queen City, we listened to an NPR interview with Winston Groom. During the conversation, I understood something clearly for the first time (a surprise to this rabid student of American history). It has long been evident that the Civil War remains the most vital episode in our nation’s development – as this period brought an end to slavery, further coalesced the country as a United States, and also brought to light key issues (racism, sexism, economic disparity, etc.) that plague us to this day. As Groom spoke, I finally “got” why this topic resonates so dearly with so many of us: the Civil War and its origins and outcome is certainly a most imperfect time in our history. Its lessons are best told through narratives, which just like those in the book of Genesis, allows us to relate to people in a different time and situation because of our common humanity. These accounts – mythical or historical – become real and important as they echo in our hearts and minds.

Bernard Malamud said that the purpose of freedom is to create it for others. In this season of renewal, may the stories of freedom’s struggle inspire us to bring emancipation to all, no matter what their chains.

"I'm Free!" Shabbat HaGadol 5772

If I told you what it takes to reach the highest high,
You'd laugh and say 'nothing's that simple'
But you've been told many times before Messiahs pointed to the door
And no one had the guts to leave the temple!

Shabbat HaGadol - the great Sabbath immediately prior to our Passover celebration of redemption - approaches. Once again, we look for inspiration in the story of the Exodus from Egypt. The ancient rabbis – as they often did – played with the Hebrew word for Egypt – mitzrayim – as if related to the word mitzarim – narrow places. They suggested that our people’s slavery in Egypt is played out in our lives as the “narrow places”, that is those things that hold us back in life, keeping us from freely being the men and women we are meant to be, in the fullest sense. To overcome, or outgrow these mitzarim, the “stuff” that constrains us in life, it is necessary to take risks, to become vulnerable, and to allow ourselves to undergo new experiences that might bring blessings to our lives that we never knew before (cue Daltrey singing “no one had the guts to leave the temple!”).

As we prepare for next week’s arrival of Passover, let us use this time to consider the mitzarim that plagues our own lives. Like ridding our homes of chametz, it takes concerted effort and planning to free ourselves from such burdens. Ask yourself: what is it you hope to accomplish in this spring season of renewal that will enhance your life? This year we are still bondsmen – next year, may all be free!

CCAR 2012, a brief reflection

I have just returned from the annual convention of the Central Conference of American Rabbis, which was held this year in Boston. As always, it was wonderful to spend time with colleagues and friends who see each other so seldom (and of course to be back listening to all the locals, made me feel like I was back in high school). It was powerful to learn with such eminent scholars as American Jewish historian Jonathan Sarna, political scientist Robert Putnam, management consultant Russ Sabia, as well as mark the 40^th anniversary of the ordination of women in celebrating Sally Priesand’s historic milestone. Yet overall, the greatest personal highlight was to be reminded of how proud I am to be a Reform Jew, part of a community that cherishes and embraces the opportunity to address even the most challenging and enlightening topics – intellectual, communal, spiritual - with the highest degree of openness and integrity. This is a blessing we share. I look forward to reflecting further with you as I continue “unpack” this valuable experience.

This coming weekend is Shabbat HaChodesh, beginning the Hebrew month of Nisan in which we celebrate Passover - the "Time of our Freedom." I hope this season of redemption gives us the strength to provide opportunity and uplift for the oppressed, as well as our own sacred contentment with the intellectual liberty we enjoy.

And Then the Rules Changed

Rabbi Hayim Herring’s new book, Tomorrow’s Synagogue Today, is powerfully thought-provoking. He covers an array of vital contemporary issues facing synagogues, Jewish denominations and their leaders. And once again (or merely continuing to do so) prompting me to question the role of religious community, the relevance of my career, and whether/what I believe. Consider the following, from the book:

During the past three decades or so, six societal trends have reshaped many professions in a diverse range of industries. In this relatively short period of time, we have moved

• from the age of organizations toward the age of networks;


• from credentialed professionals toward avocational experts;


• from hierarchical control toward individual autonomy;


• from exclusivity toward inclusivity;


• from monopolization of knowledge toward democratization of knowledge;


• from assuming fee-for-service economy toward expecting a free-for-service economy (at least at a basic level)

Each of these trends has affected almost every for-profit and nonprofit organization. And as these six individual trends have interacted with one another, they have generated profound, exponential change, shaking the very foundations of organizations. (Herring, p. 9)

I wonder, what do these ideas have to say about the current state of flux in the American religious world? And more so – how will the religious community I serve, and choose to be part of, evolve as a result? Curious…

sacred space in the cloud? pt. I

In this week’s Torah portion we read

ofu,c h,bfau asen hk uagu

“Let them build Me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them (Exodus25:8). This beautiful passage is often quoted as the “first Jewish building campaign.” I rather see its message being one regarding sacred community. Grammatically, you would almost expect the Divine command to state “build a sanctuary so I may dwell in it;” rather, as we work together for holy purpose (i.e. creating sacred space), God’s presence dwells among us. How cool!

Now wait a minute! The generations have taught us, no matter how majestic our edifices, how lovely their adornments, it is the experiences we share that Judaism sanctifies as holy. Consider, of course, the words of Abraham Joshua Heschel, in his towering masterpiece The Sabbath – Its Meaning for Modern Man:

Judaism is a religion of time aiming at the sanctification of time. Unlike the space-minded man to whom time is unvaried, iterative, homogeneous, to whom all hours are alike, qualitiless, empty shells, the Bible senses the diversified character of time there are no two hours alike. Every hour is unique and the only one given at the moment, exclusive and endlessly precious.

Judaism teaches us to be attached to holiness in time, to be attached to sacred events, to learn how to consecrate sanctuaries that emerge from the magnificent stream of the year…

…Jewish ritual may be characterized as the art of significant forms in time, as architecture of time…

…The meaning of the Sabbath is to celebrate time rather than space. Six days a week we live under the tyranny of things of space; on the Sabbath we try to become attuned to holiness in time.

(emphases are Heschel’s; underlining mine)

How do we jive the passage from the Torah alongside the profound understanding of Rabbi Heschel?

I’ve recently taught a few sessions on “media and technology in the history of Jewish prayer.” In doing so, I suggest that the messages, themes, and theology of Jewish tradition retain an evolving thread over our history. Yet HOW our tradition is transmitted, of course, has changed radically. In each session, I began by telling, verbally, a Chassidic story. We moved from verbal to written tradition, as I showed a Torah and scroll of Esther (also noting the art of Hebrew calligraphy). We then went from the written works to the printed; I shared a variety of prayer books and we discussed the importance of how printing (practically) democratized literacy. Finally, I demonstrated our current shift from printed material toward an emerging digital capability by projecting Mishkan T’fila on a screen from my iPad app.

Again, the lessons, values, customs of Judaism have evolved in as an ever-growing corpus; the media by which this corpus is transmitted have been transformed in nearly every generation. So too it is with the notion of “sacred space” – from the outset in Exodus, we know that sacred space is not the mixture of bricks, mortar, stone and upholstery, nor the style of parchment, scrolls, books or smart phones employ within. Ultimately, all these elements are cursory and fleeting. What remains are the texts, experiences and memories that we use them to generate. And so, God dwells among us.

passing of an era, sort of

Today we went to view the Learning Sphere projects at Vered's school. Learning Sphere is an opportunity for the elementary students to do research on (almost) any topic of interest, and create a display showing off their study, theories, and results. We've seen projects ranging from lemon-powered batteries and space travel to rocks & minerals and the effectiveness of different hair-styling products. This year, true to one of her passions, V presented about endangered species, including their habitats, challenges to survival, and what we can do to help protect such vulnerable creatures.
This was Vered's final year to participate. Between our two kids, we've now been involved in some 5 or 6 different Learning Sphere experiences (some families we know have had many, many more!). Though a sense of relief in bringing that last display board home, there's also a sense of bittersweet nostalgia as well (I did look through a bunch of photos of the kids at younger stages earlier today; feel free to cue the music to "Sunrise, Sunset" at any time). Many new opportunities and exciting episodes will open up for her (and us) as she continues toward middle school and beyond; yet I can't help thinking that now too we are witnessing, and undergoing, the end of yet another precious chapter in life, one that will never be repeated...
chazak chazak v'nitchazek.