Reflections on Fifty
March 17, 2008
“Judah ben Temah taught: At five a boy is ready to study Torah, at ten he is ready to study Mishnah, at thirteen he is ready to be responsible for the mitzvot, at fifteen he is ready to study Talmud, at eighteen he is ready to get married, at twenty he is ready to pursue a living, at thirty he reaches full strength, at forty he reaches understanding, at fifty he is able to give counsel, at sixty he reaches maturity, at eighty one reaches strong old age…” (Pirke Avot)
Twenty years ago this month, I was serving as Assistant Rabbi at my former pulpit in San Francisco, and I was in the midst of celebrating my 30th birthday. As coincidence would have it, my Senior Rabbi also was having a milestone birthday - his 50th. It was also a highlight occasion for our Cantor, who was turning 60. The Temple President one evening noticed that if we added up the ages of the three Temple clergy, the sum of 140 represented the precise anniversary of the founding of the Temple itself. Needless to say, a special celebration was planned to mark the occasion, and the “Thirty - Fifty - Sixty” event has gone down in the annals of both the temple and the three of us “birthday boys.”
I remember gently teasing my elder colleagues when it was my turn to take the podium that night: “I don’t want to accuse Rabbi Weiner of getting old,” I said, “but still, you have to wonder why his last three sermons were on the empty-nest syndrome, social security, and Polygrip!”
How is it possible then, that in the blink of an eye, I am now the Senior Rabbi preparing to turn 50? And although my sermon on Polygrip has yet to be delivered, the needling has long since begun! “What goes around, comes around”, so I guess it is payback time in some respects.
Milestone birthdays give us - or should I say, force us - to look backward and ahead as we take stock of the years of our lives. The text from Pirke Avot cited above is a powerful reminder of the steady progress of that journey. It also comes to teach me that, although I am nearer to the end of my rabbinic career than to its beginning, I am only now gaining the fullness of experience and hopefully the accompanying wisdom to offer as guidance for others in their own life’s journey. I hope the years bring with them the gift of insight and discernment, for certainly, every day continues to bring its own unique challenges and opportunities, even as was the case when I was a younger rabbi.
In our Jewish tradition, a birthday is considered to be something of a mini “Rosh Hashanah”; an occasion to gather with family and friends, to learn a bit of Torah, to give thanks to God, and to make some gifts of tzedakah. I am planning all of the above, and I am also looking forward celebrating with all our Temple “family” during our annual Jazz concert later this month. Thank-you to our Temple Brotherhood for honoring me in such a special way.
Now, about that Polygrip…
And it’s Good for Our Kids Too…
January 24, 2008
Every two years, at the Biennial gathering of Reform Jewish leaders – men and women, children and adults, clergy, Temple staff and laity alike – the President of the URJ delivers a Shabbat morning sermon during which he outlines areas of particular concern, and specific initiatives upon which to focus during the years ahead. Last month, URJ President, Rabbi Eric Yoffie, continued this tradition, and among other concerns (specifically, healthcare reform and Jewish/Muslim dialogue), called upon our movement to make special efforts to reclaim and intensify the observance of Shabbat in our homes and in our lives. His appeal could hardly be called controversial, for as the central feature of Jewish, religious observance, the perpetuation of Shabbat over the millennia may be the single-most significant factor in the survival of Judaism and the Jewish people.
“Reform Jews are considering Shabbat because they need Shabbat,” Yoffie said. “In our 24/7 culture, the boundary between work time and leisure time has been swept away, and the results are devastating. Do we really want to live in a world where we make love in half the time and cook every meal in the microwave?” “When work expands to fill all our evenings and weekends, everything suffers, including our health,” he said. “For our stressed-out, sleep-deprived families, the Torah’s mandate to rest looks relevant and sensible.” “We are asked to put aside those Blackberries and stop gathering information, just as the ancient Israelites stopped gathering wood. We are asked to stop running around long enough to see what God is doing.”
As it turns out, not long before Yoffie’s exhortation, social scientists publicly began calling for the return of regular family meals, such as Sabbath-observant Jewish families enjoy every Friday evening, as one of the most effective strategies for raising healthy children. According to the National Center on Addiction and Substance Abuse at Columbia University, children who come from homes having regular family dinners are 32% less likely never to smoke cigarettes, 45% likelier never to abuse alcohol, and have a 50% less risk of substance abuse. A recent study from the University of Michigan has demonstrated that having regular meals with their families was a more powerful predictor of success and happiness than time spent in school, studying, church or synagogue, playing sports or arts activities!
Now of course, these benefits are not limited to Jewish families, nor would they disappear if family dinners are held on Wednesdays, Thursdays, or Sundays. But as Jews, we have the perfect model, which also happens to be our most important holiday and observance – Shabbat. In addition, regular Shabbat dinners teach our children the value of commitment, and demonstrate that as parents, that we are serious about our spiritual values.
Shabbat also teaches the importance of rituals, for no matter how lovely a Sunday evening meal might be, the inclusion of lighting the candles, making Kiddush over the wine, breaking the challah, blessing the children, and even singing Shabbat songs, provide a spiritual framework that elevates the practice beyond weekday fare.
I would add that part of what makes the Shabbat dinner unique is the manner in which it comes as the highlight for the entire week. We anticipate the meal throughout the week (and usually have to plan in advance in order to get everyone and everything in place), and then we “dress up” the meal with our nicer settings, cloths, and flowers. The pace of our lives having slowed, the Sabbath meal allows time for conversation, for catching up with one another, and for turning off the noise and distractions. (Maybe that’s why God invented TiVO…)
A century ago, the Jewish essayist, Achad Ha-am, famously perceived “More than the Jews have preserved the Sabbath, has the Sabbath preserved the Jews.” Turns out it’s good for our kids, too. [For more information on Rabbi Yoffie’s Shabbat initiative and related materials for home and synagogue, take a look at http://urj.org/shabbat/]
Drilling a Hole Beneath Our Own Seat
December 20, 2007
A recent article in The New York Times (November 28, 2007) noted the recent growth of independent, lay-led services and gatherings, particularly by young Jews in their 20’s and 30’s, which are taking the place of synagogue life for many of the participants. The article, titled, “Challenging Tradition: Young Jews Worship on Their Own Terms”, described the phenomenon that is appearing across the country:
“In places like Atlanta; Brookline, Mass.; Chico, Calif.; and Manhattan [New York], the minyanim have shrugged off what many participants see as the passive, rabbi-led worship of their parents’ generation to join services led by their peers, with music sung by all, and where the full Hebrew liturgy and full inclusion of men and women, gay or straight, seem to be equal priorities. Members of the minyanim are looking for ‘redemptive, transformative experiences that give rhythm to their days and weeks and give meaning to their lives…’”
Perhaps many would be surprised to learn that my response to the article and to the trend it describes has been mixed, and certainly far from enthusiastically positive. Unquestionably, I applaud the fact that so many Jewish men and women today are seeking new, creative avenues for expressing a vibrant, religious practice. And of course, much of what these young people are seeking is very much in line with the direction of our own congregation, particularly when it comes to inclusive, participatory, and accessible worship and music.
But I am troubled by the “privatization” of such religious gatherings. For while they may certainly fill the needs of the individual participants, they do little to build community, and offer nothing to Jews who may be on the “outside” of these assemblies.
Far too often, I hear members, non-members, and former Temple members alike speak of their synagogue dues contribution in many of the same terms as more properly apply to a yacht or country club, or even a JCC – measuring the value of their donation by their hours of “usage.” They forget that supporting the institution of the synagogue may begin with one’s own, religious needs, but that can never be the end, or even the primary motivation.
Do you believe that all Jews, regardless of financial wherewithal, should have the opportunity to participate in Jewish study and worship? Do you value interfaith cooperation between leaders and laity of different communities of faith? Do you want to feel assured that Jewish men, women, and children have a foundation of support in time of crisis, comfort in time of sorrow, and the provisions to celebrate the joyous occasions in their lives? Only through the institution of the synagogue can these ideals be brought into practice. That’s what you “get” from your synagogue membership — nothing less than realization of these core values – even if your own attendance and participation are marginal.
The problem of abandoning one’s communal obligations and focusing simply on one’s own situation and needs is addressed and illustrated in an ancient Midrash. According to the text, a number of people were floating in a small boat out at sea. All of a sudden, one of the men began to drill a hole under his seat. When the people complain, he answers, “What complaint do you have? After all, I’m drilling the hole under my own seat!” One of the companions answers him, “We are all in the same boat. The hole may be under your seat, but the water that comes in will make the boat sink with all of us in it.” (Leviticus Rabbah 4:6)
So, then, let us continue to seek innovative and inspirational forms of worship and study that will engage our generation and the next, but let us build and create for the entire community, not only for ourselves.
