Baseless Love

Sinat Chinam. Baseless Hatred. Time to change to love. Now!

"If we were destroyed, and the world with us, due to baseless hatred - sinat chinam, then we shall rebuild ourselves, and the world with us, with baseless love - ahavat chinam."

Rav Kook, Orot HaKodesh, vol III, p. 324

#CPEexperiences - Heavy Week, Shabbos is Coming!

Some weeks you need Shabbat more than others. This is one of those weeks for me and it's only Tuesday night.

Working at CPE takes it's toll, no more so than when it's a week when one escorts a person as she meets her death. It's a holy honor and an awesome burden. I feel privileged to be there with the dying one and their family as they go through whatever it is that they need to do.  I am happy that I can help any way that I can, even if it is just by being present.

I was not there last night when a woman I've gotten to know passed away but I did spend most of yesterday afternoon with her and her husband. And I spend much of today with her husband in the first of his days without her.

It's what we do as rabbis, as pastors, as chaplains. Sometimes it's easier than others. Sometimes it's lighter. It's a wonderful thing knowing that I made a difference in someone's life at an important time. It will just take a day or two before I am truly able to appreciate just what that means.

Baruch Dayan HaEmet. May her memory always be for a blessing.

In the meantime, I did what I often do when I'm feeling ... well, when I'm feeling anything more than usual. I turn to food. This time I baked instead of ate (thank goodness). I made Challah for the Shabbat that I'm looking forward to.  I'll be spending erev Shabbat with most of my lovely family and many of my wonderful fellow CPE interns.  A holy assembly.
#CPEexperiences

Chukat: Differing Reactions to Loss

Chukat  Numbers 19:1-22:1

Differing Reactions to Loss

         In Genesis 50:10-11, Joseph observed a seven-day mourning period for his father Jacob, mourning bitterly and loudly.  When the Caaanites witnessed this, they observed that the people were holding “a solemn ceremony of mourning.” From this we derive the practice of shiva where we observe a specific period of mourning for those close to us. After the mourning period was over, Joseph and the mourners returned to Egypt to resume their daily lives.

         In this week’s parsha, Chukkat, Aaron dies and “all the house of Israel bewailed Aaron thirty days.” (20:29) Eleazar, Aaron’s son, becomes the High Priest and the journey continues. Later, when Moses dies “... the children of Israel wept for Moses in the plains of Moab thirty days. So the days of weeping and mourning for Moses ended.” (Deuteronomy 34:8) We are taught that the time for mourning has a definite ending, 30 days.  Joshua, Moses’ successor, then takes on the task of entering and conquering the Promised Land. From these deaths we learn the practice of shloshim,  the thirty day period when we continue our mourning, still with restrictions but less so than during shiva.

         There is one more death to note. We also learn this week that the People arrived in Kadesh and “Miriam died there and was buried there.” (20:1) There is no ceremony, no mourning; and there is no person stepping up to take Miriam’s unofficial function. How do the People react? By doing what they usually do when faced with hardship, they kvetch about something that may or may not be related to Miriam, the lack of clean water.   

         So what do we learn from Miriam’s death? Were the People at this time hard-hearted fools, unable to experience the pain and loss of Miriam? I don’t think so. I believe the message here is that that life goes on. That people will react differently to the same circumstances at different times. Even circumstances as familiar to us as the loss of an important person in our lives.

         For some people, the loss of a loved one causes life to stand still, creating a sort of paralysis that precludes engaging in our normal daily activities for a period of time. For others, a similar loss causes internal feelings and reactions that we don’t understand and are not comfortable with. So we resort to a behavior that we engage in when we are not content, when there is something bothering us that we don’t know how to cope with. In this case, the complaining and whining that characterized B’nei Israel’s years in the desert.

         What lesson do we derive from all this? We are fortunate to belong to a tradition that gives us a framework for coping with loss. It recognizes the different stages people go through after losing someone close and, like a protective cloak, gives us the extra security to gradually reemerge into the reality of living our now changed daily lives. But our religion is also a practical one. It recognizes that we are human and fallible and therefore quirky. We might lose someone important and because of our fallibility we cannot mourn “properly.” Perhaps we are afraid, perhaps the loss is too large to comprehend straight away or ever. So, as in the case of Miriam’s death, we revert to behaviors that are not noble but are certainly human. And then, once the  reaction has subsided, life continues on.

1.    Think back to times when you experienced the loss of a loved one. Did the traditions of mourning work for you or did you find yourself in need of something else?

2.    Given the different reactions to the deaths of characters in the Torah, do you think the Torah is providing commentary on the importance or place of that person in the lives of our people?

One generation praises Your works to another...

This week's line from Ashrei:

דּוֹר לְדוֹר יְשַׁבַּח מַעֲשֶֽׂיךָ, וּגְבוּרֹתֶֽיךָ יַגִּֽידוּ.

One generation praises Your works to another, acclaiming Your mighty deeds. 

Working at a Nursing Home/Rehab each day has been a little bit like entering an alternate universe. Time runs differently here (as proof: we daven mincha and maariv at 3:30pm!). Time is not marked as much by the hands on a clock as by when different events take place - services (it's a Jewish facility), rehab or personal care appts for the residents and of course, meals! Life seems to revolve around the meals - it feels like as a professional (or at least as a chaplain) there are hours each day when visiting is not efficacious, particularly before, during and sometimes right after meals.  

Yet, there is magic that happens here as well. Each time I talk to a resident I learn something new. I might get a glimpse into an era almost forgotten, be gifted with a piece of wisdom I'd never heard before, or be given a beautiful smile by one who no longer speaks much if at all. I am able to offer a comforting presence, a listening ear, a hug and of course, a smile. Together we find God's presence, whether or not we are able to recognize it each time. 

A fine intergenerational exchange if ever there was one. 

Inspiration of Prayer for Daily Life

This summer I am doing CPE - Clinical Pastoral Education - basically I'm training to be a Chaplain in a NH, Hospital, where ever one is needed.  To become a board certified Chaplain one needs 1600 hours of clinical and didactic training, usually done in units of 400 hours each. I am currently doing my second unit,  in a nursing home like my first unit was.

My fellow CPE interns are wonderful, 5 are from VTS, Virginia Theological Seminary, and one already out in the field awaiting ordination.  Actually, my first unit back in '08 was with VTS seminarians as well, but only 3 that time. As before, I am the only Jew.

Everyday at services one line in the Ashrei stands out to me in a way that it never has before.
It makes me appreciate our tradition  - how fortunate I am to be able to find inspiration and guidance for my daily professional life within my daily prayers.

More on this later...

סוֹמֵךְ יְיָ לְכָל הַנֹּפְלִים, וְזוֹקֵף לְכָל הַכְּפוּפִים: 

Strong support to all who fall, GOD raises up the humble and the lame.

#TinyTorahBits expanded: Parshat Nasso

#TinyTorahBits Parshat Nasso - We might all bring similar gifts, it's what we do with them that makes them unique

Expanded:  

This week’s Torah portion is Nasso, the second chapter in the book of Numbers.  There is one particular part of this portion that I love.  It discusses how the leaders of each of the 12 tribes were to bring a dedication offering to God for the inauguration of the mishkan.  The gifts are all identical, each leader of each tribe brings the exact same thing as an offering. But ... each offering is brought on a different day (12 days in a row) and is described individually each time although they are the exact same (Numbers Chapter 7:12-84).

Yes, this is rather tedious to read, but to me, it provides a wonderful message for us today. Each individual offering that we give out to the universe – be it material, spiritual, emotional – is special and unique, even if it is the exact same thing that the others have done before us and will do after us.  The key is that we are all created in God’s image and it is the job of all of us to better the world. Sometimes that takes an action or gift that is one-of-a-kind, but oftentimes it takes many of us doing the exact same things – but each in our own ways. We all matter, we all count, and all of us make a difference.

Kol Tuv,

Rabbah Arlene

NOTE: You can find #TinyTorahBits on Twitter - @arlimb

Maybe a friend, maybe a stranger, or maybe both?

TORAH PARSHIOT ACHAREI MOT (Leviticus 16:1-18:30)  AND EMOR  (Leviticus 21:1-24:23)

Maybe a friend, maybe a stranger, maybe both?

         We are in the middle of a section of the Torah known as the Holiness Code (Lev. 17-26), so-called because the word holy in its many forms is repeated with great frequency.  These chapters delineate in often excruciating detail codes of behavior, for the Israelite, for the priests, and for the community as a whole. The behavior encompasses not only how we physically act but also our speech and thought patterns.

         There are two verses, however, that I would like to highlight. The first is from last week’s parsha Leviticus 19:18b. V’ahavta et re’acha kamocha, ani Adonai.   ...but you shall love your neighbor as yourself; I am Adonai.

         The second is from this week’s parsha, Emor Lev 24:22: Mishpat echad yihiyeh lachem, ka-ger ka-ezrach yihiyeh. Ki, Ani Adonai Elohehem

You shall have one law for the stranger or native alike. I am the Lord your G-d.

         Together they provide a framework to guide our days, our behaviors and even our thoughts. Who is this “re’acha” mentioned in Lev 19:18? According to the Brown-Driver-Briggs Lexicon, Re’ah (the root resh-ayin) is defined as friend, companion, or fellow. The friend can be either an intimate friend or another person with whom one stands in reciprocal relations. Many meanings for a simple two-letter word! But it is exactly these contradictory meanings that give our verse so much depth. Loving  your re’ah as yourself is a very easy directive to understand if we hold that re’ah means someone who is close to us. But what if we interpret re’ah differently? Are we to love someone who, in the grand scheme of things, really doesn’t mean anything to us in a deep emotional way?

         That’s where the verse in Emor comes in. There is only one law for the stranger and native alike, there is no differentiation. The principle of fair and equal treatment of the stranger (ger) is mentioned over 36 times in the Torah, more than keeping Shabbat! Today’s news as well as ancient history provide ample examples of the chaos and disorder that occurs when one group of people is discriminated against in any given society.

         So who is our re’ah and who is our ger? If we are to love our re’ah as ourselves and, at the same time, treat the stranger and citizen alike – how do we define our terms?, How do we know who is our friend and who is to be considered a stranger?     Some define stranger as the other, but for many, the word stranger means someone who looks or acts differently than ourselves.

         The beautiful thing about our ability to interpret Torah anew in each and every generation is that the Torah stays alive with any individual who reads it. We refresh and renew the Torah each time we grapple with its words and apply them to our daily lives.

         Today, I choose to interpret the word Re’ah as both intimate and casual friend, as both a fellow-citizen with whom one has a cordial relationship and as the stranger who lives among us.  Why? The answer is in the end to both verses – Ani Adonai, I am Adonai. I am your God. 

         Then our first verse, and the verse from Emor admonishing us to have one law for stranger and native alike, both end by reminding us that we are doing this because Adonai is our God. To me this reminds us that we are all  –  friend, native, stranger – created in God’s image and therefore all are alike. It doesn’t matter what color we are, where we are from or if we speak with an accent. We are all created equally and viewed equally by God. Therefore, how we treat each other matters. How we judge each other matters. How we conduct the business of living in community matters a great deal. We are all God’s children and must act accordingly.

Torah Talk: 

1. The full verse in Lev. 19 reads: “Do not judge and do not hold onto a grudge against the children of your people, but you shall love [your] “re’acha” as yourself.” How do you interpret the first part of this verse in relation to the second?

2. Can you think of examples in your daily life to which this verse as well as the one from Emor “You shall have one law for the stranger or native alike. I am the Lord your G-d,” apply to your daily life?

A similar version of this post was originally published in The Washington Jewish Week, May 7, 2015.