Showing posts with label Judaism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Judaism. Show all posts

Monday, December 31, 2018

Year End Reflection: When Traditions Change


2018 was a year filled with a great deal of change and that included changes in holiday traditions. The CreativeMornings RVA talk on Dec. 14 was on tradition - transforming old ones and creating new ones. It is exciting to transform and create new traditions and yet I don't want to minimize the grief that can come with letting some traditions go - even for the best of reasons.

It is nearly a year since I told my spouse that I wanted to separate and divorce. This was not an easy decision or one I took lightly. It was long a time coming and I knew I was hurting her terribly. Yet I also knew in the deepest part of my being that it was absolutely the right thing and what I had to do. It has been a year of navigating living arrangements, dating, hurt feelings, finding new ways to still be a family while not being a couple.


In addition, I completed my conversion to Judaism. My Beit Den and immersion in the Mikveh was the most life-altering and transforming experience of life, second only to becoming a mother. A friend had suggested journaling for the week leading up to my immersion on the days of Creation along with saying goodbye to my old self. I let go of my old self and truly began a new book of my life. It is said in Judaism that when you immerse in the mikveh as a convert, you receive your Jewish soul. That is exactly what happened. Reading from the Book of Ruth and hearing my Hebrew name used for the first time, brought me to tears of joy and belonging.


So what happens to all the traditions associated with the December holidays when one is separated, dating, living with someone new, and now officially Jewish. Last December, I celebrated Hanukkah with my spouse and daughter, and then Christmas with them. This year Hanukkah was early and I celebrated with the new person in my life, his child, my daughter, and her boyfriend. Then celebrated a rather low key Christmas morning with boyfriend and child, followed by an afternoon joined by my daughter of the American Jewish tradition of a movie and Chinese food. I found myself both happy and sad. It was a joy to celebrate Hanukkah and introduce people to new traditions. Yet I also found myself missing the traditions of the past.


New traditions take time to feel like traditions. This was a year filled with new traditions - so of course, much of the time I felt like I didn't really know what I was doing. It was not yet the familiarity of long-held traditions. I definitely felt connected to Jews here and around the world also lighting candles, making latkes or other fried foods, and to generations of Jews who have done so before us.


So I found myself sad or tearing up at different times. I found myself missing the Christmases of my childhood with my parents and grandparents. I was missing the cooking, baking, and large family gatherings of my past. I felt overwhelmed by all the Christmas and feeling very much like an outsider as a Jew. I was also angry at the Christian privilege that seemed even more prominent this year.


So as 2018 comes to a close, I know that 2019 will bring its own changes and adjustments. I definitely have ideas for traditions I want to begin - starting with Shabbat dinners or brunches and a Hanukkah Party. I know that part of what I was missing and grieving was coming together around a table with friends and family to eat, laugh, share stories, light candles, prayer. I want cell phones out only for photos. I want silly and profound conversations. I want to bring people together who do not yet know each other. I want to create a home filled with the tradition of being a place where family and friends gather for occasions large and small, happy and sad, planned way in advance and the last minute take-out and movie night. One thing I have learned in 2018 is that I cannot wait for others, if this what I want, then I need to be the one to make it happen.


 Happy New Year!

Thursday, July 26, 2018

הוד (howd/hod): Majesty and Humility

The Hebrew word Hod can be translated many ways with different meanings that include splendor and humility. This has confused me tremendously as I see these terms as being the opposite. Hod is one of the sefirot - the energies and attributes of God that are part of Kaballah. Between Passover and Shavuot is the counting of the Omer, during which one reflects on these divine attributes, which and each attribute correlates with a part of God's body. Hod is the left leg or left foot and is paired with Nezah, on the right, which can be endurance, eternity. One of the reflections during Omer this year spoke to the humility of endurance. Tara Rose in her reflection from another year brings the humility and splendor together, "When we see Hod in our left foot, we can be reminded to move forward with humility, and at the same time, to move forward with majesty and splendor." (Rose, Tara) 

Recently I had a rather sudden and unpleasant experience of failing to be self-aware, of failing to understand who I needed to be in a particular situation. One can be very authentic, authentically oneself and realize that different contexts require that we bring forward certain aspects of ourselves and others need to remain in the background. In professional spaces, we need to bring our best professional selves and realize we do not just represent ourselves but who we work for - whether that is ourselves or someone else. 

During the counting of the Omer with a friend this year, was the first time I encountered the word "hod." The first translation of hod I encountered was humility. When I was discussing this with a friend she offered this definition of hod "embodied awareness of self in relation." That is what I forgot in this recent experience, I lost this embodied sense of awareness. Truthfully, in looking back, it was a day in which I was anything but embodied and in deep need of approval and proving myself. The problem is that in my struggle for approval, acceptance, and to prove myself, I did the exact opposite. 

We are embodied, social beings and yet every day we are bombarded with messages that lead us away from embodiment and away from being connected to one another. Every beauty commercial, self-help seminar, weight loss, plastic surgery and so many others have us looking outside of ourselves for what it means to be beautiful, confident, likable, and comfortable in our skin. There is money and power in leading human beings outside of an inner grounding in our bodies, our hearts and our souls - we forget who we are and therefore look outside of ourselves for meaning. It is there that we become convinced that it is the next ten pounds, the next job, the next product, the next plastic surgery, the next self-help guru will be the one to finally fix our lives, to settle the deep dissatisfaction that has taken hold of us. If we can't find it in those settings, our medical system is set up to find a treatment or pill to fix what ails us. Yet we will never find it outside of ourselves and additionally, we won't find it in a shallow self-awareness that is unwilling to face the monsters within. 

Hod requires that we understand and practice being authentically ourselves all the time while understanding that not every aspect of ourselves needs to be known to everyone or in every place. It also requires that we be able to read our context, who are the people we are with at a given moment, what is our relationship with them, where physically are we located. These are not always easy things to read and we all learn through a great deal of trial and error. Hod goes directly against the notion of it being all about me or letting it all hang out. I am sure each of us can call to mind a situation where someone shared something inappropriate to the setting they were in. Sharing the details of your last breakup over lunch with your best friend - appropriate; sharing those details in the break room of your office  - not appropriate. 

Other topics that require a great deal of hod are discussions of politics and religion. Many of us have strong, passionate opinions. Yet not everyplace is the place to share those - even if the topic comes up. I know how easy it is for me to get caught up in the excitement and passion of the conversation that I lose sight of myself and context. Afterward, I have that feeling of dread "did I say too much" or "did I speak out of turn." It is great that I realize it after the fact, it would be better if I had checked myself at the moment.  Another important piece is not to assume I know I am in a place that people are in agreement with me or due to my own arrogance that takes on an attitude "how could anyone not see it this way." In this day and time, we need to practice this embodied awareness of self even more. It is a reminder to me that I don't know everything; not assume that others agree with me or that everyone who disagrees with me is bad, evil, or wrong. It is a reminder to ask if this is the time, place or person to share this information or my opinion. It is so easy to lose touch with myself in the passion of the conversation. My passion and my love of conversation, connecting with others is a strength. It becomes a weakness and a stumbling block when I fail to balance it with awareness of myself and others. 

This experience had some unpleasant consequences for all involved. I did all that I could to make amends, apologized and took full responsibility. I fully acknowledged my mistakes. Now all I can do is move forward with both majesty and humility.

Saturday, March 17, 2018

Struggling with Beings both Human and Divine

With my hair still wet from the mikveh and my certificate
As part of my journey to conversion, I wrote a D'var Torah on a passage of my choosing. I chose Genesis 32: 25-33. I saw the Beit Den and immersed in the Mikveh on Tuesday. It was a profound and transforming experience, one that still feels both amazing and overwhelming. I am so incredibly grateful to the companions and teachers on this journey. I am so grateful to Congregation Or Ami for its welcome and embrace! Now that I am a full member of the Tribe - I share this reflection.

D’var Torah: Genesis 32:25-33

Jacob’s struggle with God/an angel resonates with me on such a deep level and has for many years. I see my own spiritual journey as one of wrestling with God. Wrestling with myself, with religious institutions, with all I have learned, and so it makes perfect sense that I would finally find my home, my people, my God among Israelites - those who struggle with God.

Jacob’s encounter with the angel comes after his dream where he sees angels ascending and descending on a ladder (Genesis 28:12-13) and the night before he is to see his brother, Esau, since he stole his blessing. Jacob has learned some hard lessons since he last saw Esau. He himself has been tricked by Laban - laboring for seven years and then Laben substitutes Leah for Rachel. He has served Laban for many years, amassing his own wealth, enabling him to flee Laban. In addition, his marriages have given him eleven sons, a daughter, and Rachel, his beloved, is pregnant with his twelfth son. He is not the same man who took his brother’s birthright for a bowl of stew; or with his mother’s help stole his father’s blessing. He knows how it feels to be in Esau’s shoes and it tells us a great deal about Jacob, that he fears his brother’s anger.

So the night before this meeting that Jacob dreads, he wrestles with a man, the text tell us. They wrestled all night. In the morning, the man wrenched Jacob’s hip. Jacob stops the man from leaving and demands a blessing. This demand for a blessing is classic Jacob. He has no problem demanding what it is he wants and doing what it takes to get it. The man asks his name, which is itself is strange if the being is an angel or God, would he not already know Jacob’s name? He then tells Jacob, “Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with beings divine and human, and have prevailed.” Yet who is this being that Jacob wrestles with all night?

Sforno, Rashi, and Chizkuni all affirm that the being is an angel but have different explanations about who the angel is or what the struggle represents. For Sforno, the struggle symbolic of all of Jewish history. The Jewish people would struggle, struggle all night long, yet in the end the Jewish people will prevail. Rashi tells us that the angel is Jacob’s guardian angel and yet he also struggles with Esau. Finally Chizkuni, argues that the angel is Esau’s protective power that both makes sure Jacob will show up in the morning and to assure him that Esau will not harm him. Jacob tells us that he wrestled with God and names the place Peniel - I have encountered God face to face and yet I live.

Rabbi Charles Kroff in his D’var Torah, “Chasing Your Demons: Finding Your Friend” tells the story of a family where the four sisters are all in conflict with each other at the funeral of their father. They refuse to sit together, look at each other or interact in any way. Rabbi Kroff contrasts this with how Jacob wrestles with himself, with Esau, with God, which then results in the embrace of Esau and Jacob the next day. Esau does not harbor bitterness or anger. Jacob can accept the embrace because he has wrestled with what he had done, with Esau, with God, with himself - he can take responsibility for what he did. Rabbi Kroff asks “Haven’t we all struggled with our fears and our vulnerabilities at some time in the dead of night?”

Rabbi Kroff quotes Rabbi Cohen saying that Jacob"was conscious of all the different forces in his life with which he struggled: God, Esau, the side of himself that haunted him like a shadow. He was surely confronting both the human and divine in his life... That night, all the parts of Jacob and all the parts of his life came together, and he would never be the same" Rabbi Kroff tells us that this wrestling leads to transformation, to a new name to represent that who Jacob was when he laid down the night is not who he is in the morning. Jacob asks for a blessing and is given a new name, Israel. Jacob struggled with God, himself and other humans.  Israel means one who struggles and prevails with beings both human and divine. However we understand Jacob’s experience - a dream, vision, or an actual physical battles, it is only through being willing to face what we fear, face ourselves, face truth, face God, that we can transform. I would say that for Jacob, that struggle through the night is the cumulation of a lifetime of struggle, and in the morning Jacob can finally embrace his full self. Florida Scott Maxwell states “You need only claim the events of your life to make yourself yours. When you truly possess all you have been and done … you are fierce with reality.”

I have wrestled with myself, with life, and I don’t know whether I have yet achieved having possesed all I have been and done. I do know that in my own wrestling, my own long, sleepless nights, I too have been transformed. Nowhere is this more true, than in my spiritual journey. To come to this place, to find my spiritual home within in Judaism, is not possible without struggling with first with the religious tradition I was brought up in, my search for a spiritual home within Christianity and within Unitarian Universalism. Yet is not just with religious institutions or traditions - in some ways they are only the surface, I have also had to struggle with God, with myself, with where I belong, who am I and who am I meant to be, and certainly struggle with the demons of insecurity, doubt, fear.

When I say I have found a home in Judaism, that home is not a place to get comfortable, to be quiet, or to cease from struggle. Oh it may be all that at times, and it is also loud, opinionated, with a fierce wrestling with God, with tradition, with Torah, and with how to live life fully and in service to healing the world. Not even Jacob stops struggling, soon he will lose Rachel, think he has lost his son Joseph, and will end his days not in his homeland, but in Egypt.

Part of conversion to Judaism is to choose a Hebrew name.  There are many ways to go about this process but for me it was this text. This text that resonates so deeply with my own journey. I choose Yisraela (יִשְׂרְאֵלָה) as my Hebrew name. It will serve as a reminder of the struggle to this point and that life will continue to offer challenges with beings both human and divine.

Friday, February 16, 2018

Grateful for Failure?


With yet another "we have decided not to move forward with you, thank you for your time" result of a job interview, I find myself reflecting on the question of whether or not to be grateful for failure. All too often, there is a rush to turn the failure or setback around into something positive, into "the next one will be the right one" or "must not have been meant to be." It hurts to be told no; it hurts to fail, to have yet another setback. It took everything I had not to cry on the phone with the recruiter.  I shed many tears that night and I am grateful for the friends and my coach who offered a listening ear, comfort, and just let me be without jumping to lessons learned and what comes next.

Now that we are on the other side of the holidays and 2018 has begun, I am ready to take the next steps. I took a full break from job hunting - unsubscribed from job posting lists, did not do any networking and made the decision that I needed to thoroughly look at what I have done and what I need to do going forward. In addition, the focus on the job search which has been unrelenting for over two years, has meant things like my conversion journey were often put aside. My first priority for 2018 is to finish all the written homework I have for my conversion and then figure out what the next steps are. I am ready to be a full member of the tribe!

In my study of Judaism, particularly as I explore music, I have come across this idea of failure, set-back, roadblocks as things to be grateful for; to not worry; that all this is in one's favor, and that everything that is mine will come in time.  One of the places this comes up is in this beautiful version of Modeh Ani. Each morning I watch and listen and offer my thanks for another day. Here are the lines that I am referring to:

על כל כישלונותיי מודה אני
Al kol kishlonotai modeh ani
For all my failures I give you thanks


על אכזבותיי פחדיי ומכשוליי
Al aczavutai pachadai umkshulai
For every letdown, fear, and setback

הם כולם לטובתי
Hem kulam ltovati
They are all in my favor


The second song is the parody of "Despacito" by the Maccabeats.

דספסיטו
Despacito
Slowly


קח את החיים שלך בדספסיטו
Kach et hachayim shelcha bedespacito
Take your life slowly


כל דבר בזמן שלו יבוא קרידו
Kol davar bazman shelo yavo querido
Everything that's yours in it's time will come, dear


וכל עכבה זה טוב רק תאמין בו
Vechol ekaba ze tov rak ta’amin bo
And any obstruction is good only believe it,

My rabbi sent me to look up Taanit 21a and the story of Rabbi Nachum Ish Gam-Zu, whose name means "all for the best." He was called that as it was what he said all the time. He insisted that no matter what the calamity that happened to him "it was all for the best." As I delved further and read more commentaries, it is clear that this notion that "all is for the good" is grounded in the assertion that everything that happens, comes from God and since God cannot do bad things, then everything, no matter how awful, must be "all for the best." This is grounded in the assertion that God is omnipotent, all powerful, an idea I have long rejected. I wonder if Rabbi Nachum Ish Gam-Zu would be able to assert that even the Holocaust "was for the best." It was the Holocaust, other genocides, and the way people so often treat each other as objects to be used and discarded that led to my rejection of the omnipotence of God. Now this is a classical theological question called theodicy and I am not the first to reject the omnipotence of God or that God has some master plan that is beyond our understanding so just trust that it will all work out.

So what about being grateful for failure? If God is not all powerful, then suffering does not come from God. Harold Kushner's answer that creation is on-going and incomplete provides part of this answer. The assertion that we are commanded to tikkun olam - repairing the world, means it is our task to do our part in alleviating suffering. Does this mean I don't believe there is a plan or some greater purpose? No, there is a plan and yes it is beyond any single person's understanding and it is ever evolving. If creation is not a "one and done" event but never ceasing, then the plan is ever evolving as well. We each have a part and role in the plan - we each have a purpose, our part in healing this world. If that is the case, then we are going to get it wrong sometimes. We are going to mistakes, there will be setbacks, there will be suffering.

Viktor Frankl asserted, quoting Nietzsche, that "a person could survive almost any how, if the person knew why." Frankl asserted that their must be meaning in suffering. This, however, was not a static meaning. Meaning evolved as our life changes and evolves. He had one purpose in the camps - to accept the suffering he and the other prisoners were experiencing without turning away or escaping into fantasy and later his meaning or his purpose was to help others find the meaning in their lives. Frankl did not sugar-coat suffering or even say it was good. In fact Frankl said "But let me make it perfectly clear that in no way is suffering necessary to find meaning. I only insist that meaning is possible even in spite of suffering—provided, certainly, that the suffering is unavoidable. If it were avoidable, however, the meaningful thing to do would be to remove its cause, be it psychological, biological or political. To suffer unnecessarily is masochistic rather than heroic." (Man's Search for Meaning, @69% in Kindle edition) So those in the concentration camps must not asked to see the suffering as good or even justified and whatever meaning people found there could never justify the evil of the camps. The suffering of the concentration camps could have been avoided and should have never happened. Much of human suffering - poverty, hunger, violence, war - these are of our own making and just as we have made it - we can end it. In fact, if we are to take tikkun olam seriously, then we are commanded to end it.

So be grateful for failure, for set-back? Yes, there is reason to give thanks even for the failures, the setbacks, the obstacles, at least in cases like not being offered a job. It hurts, absolutely, and yet in stepping back, taking a larger view, I can choose to see it as part of this process. Job searching is not for the faint of heart because one will often hear "no" far more often than "yes."  Maybe it was for the best and is too soon to know. Yet in the morning, I can give thanks for failure because it is a part of life. It is how we learn. One of the greatest gifts Judaism has given me, is permission to fail, the expectation that we will fail and have setbacks. If we accept that, then we can keep going.












Saturday, December 23, 2017

My Favorite Weekly Jewish Ritual: Havdalah

The deeper my journey into Judaism, the deeper my Shabbat observance and practice. It is powerful to draw on this ancient weekly holiday and make it meaningful in contemporary life. My favorite ritual of Shabbat (outside of Friday evening services) is Havdalah.

This Hanukkah my family gifted me with a beautiful Havdalah set.



I decided to make my own spice mix for the spice box. In looking up how to do this I found plenty of do-it-yourself bags and boxes and a list of possible spices. There is one spice store that actually sells a Havdalah spice mix. I used their ingredient list as inspiration for my own. The traditional spices are cloves and cardamom and sometimes cinnamon. In fact, my new spice box was filled with whole cloves.  So I chose the following mix of spices that I found at my local Penzey's (I love Penzey's!): Ceylon Cinnamon, Cardamon Seeds, Whole Cloves, and Orange Peel.


I started looking around the web to see if I was supposed to grind the spices or leave them whole or what. I didn't find any specific instructions and from the photos, the spices were mostly whole or in big pieces. So I mixed the spices in a small container that I could seal with a lid for storage. I took about 20 whole cloves, half of a cinnamon stick, 2-3 cardamom seeds, and a generous sprinkling of orange peel. Cardamom seeds have a very strong scent so I used the least of those. I mixed it based on how it smelled, particularly with the orange peel. It is really about personal preference. I took a plastic knife and blended them together. So here is what mine looked like:



Then I filled the spice box and put the lid on what was left.




My cats are usually my company for Havdalah and I am still working on Hebrew (this will be a lifelong learning project), I found a great version of the Havdalah prayers from The Shabbos Project. In 2014, at the end of this global observance of Shabbat many locations held large public Havdalah services.  The Maccabeats and Netanel Hershtik created a video with images from the 2014 Havdalah services around the globe. It is fun to watch the video with pictures of Havdalah from around the world. Most useful, however, is that there is a version that is just the lyrics in Hebrew, transliteration into English and the English translation!! So each Saturday evening, I pray along with the Maccabeats and Netanel Hershtik. It is a beautiful way to mark the end of Shabbat and to carry its sweetness into the week ahead!

Shavua Tov!



Monday, October 2, 2017

Hannah's Prayer: Seeking Work


Inspired by the sermon my Rabbi preached on Rosh Hashanah morning, I wrote this prayer. I had asked if there was a Jewish prayer for job seekers and apparently there is not and her sermon finally gave me the inspiration needed. The story of Hannah from the book of Samuel is the haftarah for the Rosh Hashanah morning service.


Hannah's Prayer: Seeking Work

"And she was bitter in spirit, and she prayed to the Lord, and wept." (Samuel 1:10)

"And Hannah wept. Feelings of loneliness consumed her, and she began questioning her self-worth. “What is wrong with me?”, she asked. “Am I not good enough?”, she pondered. Struggling with infertility, Hannah fell into the deep abyss of depression. Filled with sadness, anger, and frustration, she did what no one had done before. She made an impassioned plea to God, not simply praying for a child, but praying that one day she might feel whole again." (a modern midrash)



Baruch atah, Adonai Eloheinu, Melech ha'olam, Borei

I come to you, like Hannah, filled with sorrow, rage, and despair. 
For too long now, I have been out of work, not found work, not had enough work
My hope is faltering
I wonder "What is wrong with me?"; I wonder if I will ever work again; I wonder why and who is to blame.
I blame myself.
I come to you Adonai, as Hannah did, to pour my heart out to you, to beg you to hear my plea, to hear my pain, my fear, my anger, my frustration.
I long to use my gifts, skills, and experience; I long to be able to support myself and my family
I long for work - Hannah saw having a child, a son, her work, her unique contribution to the world.
I too long for work, to make my contribution to the world. 
God hear me, hear my plea.
Who will hear me like Eli heard Hannah? 
May I be able to pour out my anger, my sorrow, to free the way of obstacles. 
May my cry be heard, may my life become fruitful and of service. 
I promise to use my gifts, my resources to help heal this world, to be the co-creator you invite us to be. I promise, as Hannah promised her child to you, that my work will be in service to you and to the world. 

Amen.


Thursday, December 29, 2016

The Light Endured: A Hanukkah Reflection

Hanukkah celebrates the rededication of the Temple after the Maccabees defeat of the Greek army. After they cleaned up the mess, tossed out the idols, they found one cask of oil, enough for one day but it would take many more days to make more oil.  They went ahead and lit the Menorah with the single cask and miraculously the Menorah was still burning the next day and would burn such for 8 days. It was enough time to gather and bless more oil.

The story is about faith - lighting the candle not knowing if they could keep it lit, and it is about trust - somehow knowing that things would work out.  As I think about this story, I think about a triumphant, tired, mourning people, because even when there is "victory" in war there is also loss, bloodshed, injury and death.  It must have been hard to realize that there was only one day of oil. They lit the candle anyway.  They would have left expecting to come back to the light out and days before more would be available.

This is not the first story of the Israelites endurance and waiting in the dark.  There was slavery in Egypt and exile in Babylon; thousands of years of religiously encouraged persecution by Christians of all kinds; and the Holocaust, an attempt to wipe all Jews and Judaism away.  The Hanukkah story is a story of endurance and the Jewish people are all too familiar with endurance.

Each night the Israelites expected the Menorah lights to be out and yet they were still lit the next day. I imagine that each day there was deep gratitude that the oil lasted and the Menorah stayed lit. Did they breathe a little easier?  Were they in wonder about how it could happen?

Did they then become anxious about what to do if the light went out?  What would happen then? This feeling is familiar to so many of us.  A parent worried about a sick child or a child about an ill parent; those with depression, anxiety, chronic pain, invisible illness; the people in Aleppo, Yemen, and too many other places to list, who live not knowing when the next bomb will fall, when and where the next drone strike will happen. What will happen to me, to my family, to those I love?  Can I hold on until there is more? More questions than answers  - how long, why, must I?  Questions asked into the darkness and answered with silence.

Hanukkah reminds us that yes endurance is possible.  It is possible that there is more in the jar than we know, there is more strength than we knew we had. Lighting the candles, singing the blessings, knowing that you do so with Jews around the world, and as Jews have done for generations, as we remember together that the oil and light endured. The lights reminds all us to hold on to hope, to endure, to remember.

I believe that individually and collectively we need this reminder more than ever.  For those of us who live here in the United States, many of us are fearful of what a Trump presidency means for us, for immigrants, Muslims, people of color, women, and LGBTQ people to name just a few.  Hate is already rising, been given permission to run amok.

Maybe what we need most is to stop worrying about whether or not we will have strength, light, love tomorrow and just sit with the knowledge that we made it through today.  We had enough for today and that will have to be good enough.  Tomorrow we may have more, we may have less, we may even have nothing, we don't know, no one knows.  So the Hanukkah lights remind us to take one day at a time, to add one candle each night, to see how many days we have already made it, and to keep hope and faith that somehow a way will be found for tomorrow.


Monday, December 26, 2016

A Jewish Family Story: Joseph, Mary and Jesus

I preached this sermon on Sunday Dec. 25, 2016, at the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of the Rappahannock.

Reading:  Vanderbilt Professor bring first century context to Christmas Story 


While the Christmas season provides increased opportunities to hear the story of Jesus’ birth, few contemporary versions consider how first-century Gospel readers would have understood the message, according to a Vanderbilt University New Testament scholar.

“I believe that the more we know about the New Testament in its historical period, the more profound the text becomes,” said Amy-Jill Levine, co-editor of The Jewish Annotated New Testament (Oxford University Press, 2011). “Today’s readers often hear a personal message from the Scriptures, and those personal messages can be enhanced by hearing what the Gospels’ first audiences would have heard: political messages, laugh-out-loud stories and strong connections to the Jewish Scriptures.”

Jesus’ birth and the writing of the Gospels both occurred in the Roman Empire. Levine said that the New Testament writers ask their readers a political question: will they worship the Roman Emperor, who was regarded as divine but who ruled by military force and economic exploitation, or will they be loyal to a Jewish messiah who proclaims that the one who wants to be first must be a servant of all?

Levine said that the Star of Bethlehem, which in the Christmas story leads the Magi to Jesus, is one aspect of the nativity story that has been misunderstood through the years. “The first-century view of astronomy is quite different from ours,” she said. “People back then had no idea of how large or how hot stars are. A star perched directly over a house would incinerate the house, and the entire continent around it. Instead, stars were thought both to be relatively small and to be living beings, like angels.”

Levine, University Professor of New Testament Studies and professor of Jewish Studies at Vanderbilt, noted that Matthew injects humor into the story by describing the Magi. “Although people today think of the Magi as wise men, Matthew’s readers may not have thought this,” she said. “To ask about the one born ‘king of the Jews’ in Jerusalem, where King Herod is on the throne, is not a politically astute question. One first-century source, Philo of Alexandria, describes a figure from the Book of Numbers, Balaam, as a Magus (singular of Magi), and Balaam has a donkey who is smarter than he.”

Levine believes that part of the problem with the Christmas story is that it tends to get abstracted from the rest of the New Testament.

“It is read at Christmas and then put away with the holiday decorations until next year,” she said. “People in the first century didn’t read the Gospels in snippets. They sat through an entire reading just as we sit through a movie, and they would remember earlier scenes. For example, when Jesus says, at the Last Supper, ‘This is my body, which is given for you,’ listeners would remember that the baby was placed in a manger, that is, a feeding trough. The symbolism of Jesus as food for his followers would be clear to them.”

Levine encourages people to read all sacred scripture with respect.  “We study it with respect, not only for those who believe the words are divinely inspired, but also with respect for the authors and the audiences who first heard them.” She said that the Bible is meant to be read, to evoke strong emotions and to speak to readers today.

More insights into the first-century context of the Christmas story can be found in The Jewish Annotated New Testament, which covers all the books of the New Testament. The book’s co-editor is Marc Zvi Brettler of Brandeis University.

Media Inquiries: 
Ann Marie Deer Owens, (615) 322-NEWS 
annmarie.owens@vanderbilt.edu


A Jewish Family Story:  Joseph, Mary and Jesus

from http://www.okclipart.com/religious-christmas-clipart30jhcvlyqf/

Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah! This year Christmas and Hanukkah overlap with the first night of Hanukkah last night so I thought it would only be right to talk today on Jesus and his family as Israelites, as Jewish people.

Biblical scholarship from the Jesus Seminar that includes Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan, books such as The Jewish Jesus by Peter Schafer and Paul the Jew, an edited collection of essays, has focused on understanding Christian Scriptures with a focus on their Jewish origins.  All too often in the history of Christianity and our own UU history, Christian Scriptures have been viewed either as a fulfillment of the Hebrew Scriptures or that the Christian texts supersede the Jewish ones.  Unitarian minister and theologian, Theodore Parker, was noted for his anti-Semitism and his negative view of the Hebrew Scriptures. 

On a personal level, I have been attending Congregation Or Ami, a Reform Jewish congregation in Richmond for the last year and a half.  I have taken an Introduction to Judaism Class and an Introduction to Hebrew.  In addition, one of my teaching jobs is the 8th grade class at Or Ami.

As I have been exploring Judaism, a desire I have had for awhile, I have come to some important decisions. The first is that I have withdrawn as a candidate for UU Ministry and the second is that I have decided to convert to Judaism and will formally begin the process in the new year.  So for this talk it is only appropriate to look at the Christmas stories through the eyes of Judaism.

On the last class of Religious School before Winter Break, I gave the 8th grade a quick summary of the two Nativity stories from Matthew and Luke.  Far too often the two stories get meshed together so we have angels, shepherds and wise men all in one story but in reality, just like Genesis 1 and Genesis 2 with the two stories of Creation, the Nativity stories are each unique written by and for particular communities.  The communities of Matthew and Luke were very different and hence we have stories reflecting the perspectives of the community.

We also have to consider the historical time and context.  The gospels were written after the fall of the Second Temple in 70 CE. The Pharisees, one of the sects within Judaism, is ascending and creating the Rabbinic Judaism we know today.  There is a quest to redefine Judaism in the wake of the oppression of the Roman Empire, the Destruction of the Temple and the Diaspora of the Jewish people.  When we talk about the communities of the Gospels, they are not yet Christian, they are Jesus followers.  So these early communities were diverse and they were in the midst of a fight between the more Israelite communities around Jerusalem and the more Gentile, Greek and Roman communities that were further out.

These differences come to light in the two Nativity stories. Matthew’s community is Jewish, so in the story, the connections to Jewish history are key.  Matthew begins by tracing Jesus’ genealogy back to Abraham and most importantly, to King David.  First, the listeners would have been familiar with genealogies as they appear throughout the Hebrew Scriptures, which were less concerned about the actual family relations but rather in making important theological points such as King David is the seventh son of Jesse, seven in Hebrew means “sanctified or one set apart.”  Matthew too is making a theological point, that Jesus is in fact the promised Messiah, that he fulfills what the prophets had said.  Matthew in the story, constantly quotes the prophets, such as this quote from Chapter 1 verses 22-23:  “All this took place to fulfil what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet: ‘Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel’, which means, ‘God is with us.’” (Matthew 1:22-23)

In Matthew’s story there are no shepherds, no angels singing.  Joseph is important in Matthew’s story as a receiver of dreams, just like Jacob’s favorite son Joseph (and the story of Joseph was the Torah portion for this week).  Matthew has Joseph receive the dream that his family is in danger and to flee to Egypt and when it is safe to return (remembering that Joseph also goes to Egypt where he saves his family from starvation).  Over and over throughout the text, the listener or reader is reminded of earlier stories, of important Israelite leaders and historical moments.  

Now let us turn to the Nativity story in Luke, Luke’s community is a Gentile community, steeped in Hellenistic thought and culture (the very culture that the Maccabees revolted against).  Luke’s story begins with the announcement by an angel to Zechariah, a priest, and his wife of Elizabeth, who is barren, will have a son, John the Baptist, even though both are advanced in age.  Again to the listeners of the story, they would remember Abraham and Sarah and how Sarah also bore a son in her advanced years.  This is also where Mary is visited by an angel.  Here the Nativity narrative is filled with many more details.  There is announcement both to Zechariah and Elizabeth, to Mary, the birth of John before Jesus, a census, the travel to Nazareth, the shepherds, no wise people and Angels singing.  For Luke’s community the story begins with many recognizing the importance Jesus has already, years before his public ministry. Joseph plays a greatly reduced role in this narrative, he receives no dreams, he does not rescue his family from Herod.  He is simply Mary’s husband and Jesus’ earthly father. From the beginning we are told in Luke that Jesus is God’s son.  Mary is the key parent in Luke’s narrative.  Luke gives her the beautiful prayer of the Magnificat beginning with “My soul magnifies the Lord.”  It is Mary who ponders the events of Jesus’ birth and childhood in her heart.  In contrast, Matthew puts Joseph as the central parent, we hear nothing from Mary.  It is Joseph, not Mary who receives the prophesies. In the story of the actual birth there is no census or travel or being turned away at the inn, Matthew ends the birth story with “When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife, but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.” (Matthew 1:24-25)  After this Matthew moves right onto the Magis and the flight to Egypt.  For Luke the birth is announced to shepherds by angels who come to see the child in the manger. Luke then goes into presenting Jesus at the temple on the eighth day for circumcision, where again two prophets praise God upon seeing the baby.  Luke does not give his genealogy until after Jesus is baptized by John the Baptist. Luke prioritizes the uniqueness and newness of Jesus, the universality of Jesus, the baptism of Jesus, which would have been something the full members would be familiar with from their own Baptism.  For Matthew, Jesus is the fulfillment, the answer to the hopes for deliverance, for the fulfillment of the prophecies where once again Israel would be independent and free from oppressive foreign forces.

Both stories stress important elements of Jewish history and practice: the importance of names - Jesus’ name is known before his birth and commanded by G-d; Jesus is the descendent of David, there is listening and obedience to God’s commands whether in dreams or in visitations by angels. Throughout both narratives, despite making different choices about what to include both Matthew and Luke are communicating to their communities by referencing the stories that would have been so familiar to the community.

In our modern age, it is difficult for us to imagine the memorization of text that was so common in the ancient world.  While few could read, many could recite texts from memory and tell the stories.  As Amy-Jill Levine tells us in our reading, the listeners would not just hear part of this story, or a selected reading, edited and divided into a three year lectionary.  The stories of Torah and the Prophets would be familiar, so much so that Matthew and Luke do not have to make the connections explicit.  Matthew does not have to say in the text, hey look Jesus’ father is Joseph and just like Jacob’s favorite son, Joseph, who was a great dreamer, Joseph listens and heeds his dreams.  No for the listeners that connection was obvious.

One of my favorite Biblical scholars is John Dominic Crossan.  Crossan tells us in Who Is Jesus? Answers to Your Questions About the Historical Jesus, “My point, once again, is not that those ancient people told literal stories and we are now smart enough to take them symbolically, but that they told them symbolically and we are now dumb enough to take them literally.”  Too often in our modern world there is a division into camps, the stories must be literally true or inerrant, without error, or the stories are not factually true so therefore they are not important at all.  If I were to offer one critique of my experience of Unitarian Universalism is that all too often the stories of the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures are read and interpreted as literally true, or that their purpose is to convey facts or history as we understand them today.  This “literal” reading of the text then meets the UU emphasis on reason and rationality, which is a good thing, but then the text is dismissed, seen of being without value, or that it is a nice story, good to pull out a couple of times a year and then for the rest of the year it is put away, much like Amy-Jill Levine states in our reading today.  Much like Evangelical Christians who insist on the literal reading of the text, who will not engage in the possibility that the stories can be filled with Truth, with a capital T, without being literally true, much is missed. When we focus on did it happen, how did it happen, can we even know if it happened that way; we end up missing one, the message of the story which has nothing to do with what may or may not have occurred and two, the beautiful complexity which the authors used to weave their story.

The story of the birth of Jesus, is the story of the birth of a Jewish child, to Jewish parents, who was raised and steeped within both the culture and practices of Judaism.  When time is not taken to hear the stories under the story, we miss so much of what the writers were saying. So this year, this Christmas, this Hanukkah, let us listen for the stories beneath the story.  Let us look at Scripture, yes with reason, but also with creativity and imagination and seek to understand what these stories have to tell us today, what light they can shed in the darkness of our time, what hope they offer.  Let us make them living texts, ones who are both unchanging in the telling and whose meaning changes as the times and world changes.  

The stories of this Jewish family were written to give hope to a people struggling under an oppressive Roman Empire.  They were to give hope to a people who had lost so much.  They gave a way to understand their situation and to hold on to hope even in the darkest of days.  Matthew’s story in particular, reminds us how even children are not spared the cruelty that we humans are capable of inflicting on one another.  As we look in the faces of the families fleeing from Syria, from Yemen and from so many other places filled with war and killing, let us see this Jewish family, on only the words of a dream, fleeing danger and death.  We can imagine Joseph maybe wondering if he was just a little crazy to uproot and move his wife and young son to take a long journey to Egypt, how scared Mary must have been and the trust she had in Joseph to protect her and their child, and for a young child, leaving all the familiar things behind but held safely in the arms of his parents as they ran.

So I invite us in this celebration of Christmas and the celebration of Hanukkah, to look at these texts anew.   I invite us to worry less about whether a lamp of oil burned eight nights instead of one or if Jesus was really conceived by the Holy Spirit, or if Matthew’s version is more accurate than Luke’s version, and reflect instead on what these stories may tell us about today, about our world, about our own lives.  I invite us to peel back what we have been told, or what we think we know of these stories, and hear them anew.

I wish you all a very Merry Christmas, a Happy Hanukkah and a Joyous and Hope-filled New Year!

Friday, November 25, 2016

A New Chapter

When I was finishing my Masters Degree, I had a theme song for my synthesis paper - Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield.  It wasn't just that it was ironic, but as I was writing my paper the line "Staring at the blank page before you; Open up the dirty window; Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find"  I saw my paper as putting down the words and thoughts that I could not find somewhere else.

Today, a different line calls out to me: "Today is where your book begins. The rest is still unwritten." Well maybe not a whole new book begins but certainly a new chapter is starting and for it to begin, I must close the door on the previous one. I have been slowly, a piece at a time, been writing the last words of this chapter.  Sometimes with eagerness, sometimes with anger, and sadness and certainly some trepidation as the next chapter opens with a blank page waiting to be filled.

As I was getting ready to leave the Outer Banks, I wrote a blog post called "We are Called Unto Life" and in it I wrote, "What I have learned is that I want a life, a full life, a complete life.  I want it filled with people and community.  I feel like over time I made myself smaller, shrank my world down and now I want to burst forth and explore the world." The title of the blog comes from the evening prayer in the Reform Siddur, Mishkan T'filah,

Over the last year and half, I have struggled to shed the image of myself as minister. This was not about not valuing that work, it is about needing to be seen as more than that, that my skills and experience were transferable to other professions. In addition to what I have needed professionally, I was finally free to explore Judaism.  I was no longer serving a congregation, there was no one to question me about my "loyalty."  When I left the Outer Banks I said that there were three things I wanted to do: explore Judaism, start a Georgetown alumni club and join a book group.  So I have been working on the first two but have yet to find a book group that speaks to me.

Over this year and a half I have been attending Congregation Or Ami, one of the two reform synagogues here in Richmond. I have taken two classes Introduction to Judaism and Introduction to Hebrew.  I have attended the High Holy Days services for the last two years and Shabbat on a fairly regular basis.  This year I also accepted a position teaching the 8th grade in the religious school. During this same time I have I had a foot in both worlds - remaining in the fellowship process within Unitarian Universalism and attending and participating at Or Ami.  It is time to stop having my feet in two places.  For many years now, I lived my life in the betwixt and between - not fully a minister, not solely a religious educator, identifying as a UU and attending a Reform Synagogue.  There is a value to letting yourself living in the liminal spaces and at some point one steps out of it, placing oneself in one place and hence a new chapter is beginning.

I have finally chosen where I want to be.  This past week I officially withdrew as a candidate for ministry within Unitarian Universalism.  I had already removed myself from various UU groups and pages on  Facebook. Secondly, I met with Rabbi Ahuva from Or Ami and I have asked to formally join and to start the conversion process.  One of the hard things I am giving up is guest preaching for UU Congregations.  I will preach one last time at UU Congregation of the Rappahannock on Christmas Day.  The title for the sermon is "A Jewish Family: Joseph, Mary and Jesus."  I have to say realizing that I would have to give up preaching has been hard to swallow.  I know when Rabbi Ahuva said that to me I felt a bit punched in the gut.

As I have thought about it though it makes sense, not just because of my desire to convert but because it is time to fully close this chapter and guest preaching is part of it.  I am also re-thinking about what I have here on my blog about what I do and I have taken down my wedding officiant Facebook page.  All of this is about deciding where I want to be, what I want to be and to do that I can't hang on to pieces of the past that no longer fit.  Yes I love preaching and the reason I love it is because for me it is about teaching.  The identity that I want to shine out even brighter is that of teacher.

Professionally working as an Adjunct and an instructor at Or Ami, has put new life into my working life. Maybe, just maybe I will finally find that full time job outside of a congregation that I have been searching for.  Maybe I will now be seen as an educator, a person passionate about the power of education capable of teaching, coaching, directing and creating programs.  That is my hope.  When I first got to Richmond I remember a conversation I had with a staffing agency that I just looked like a minister and that I would want to go back there.  I bristled and I have to say I have revised my resume, my cover letters, my LinkedIn profile to enhance my profile as an educator, trainer and outreach manager.  It has been hard to change my brand, as they say, to be seen in new ways.  In the process of this re-branding, I have come to see myself differently.

I will always be a religion geek - loving ethics and theology along with the why and how of faith.  I am not renouncing any part of what I have done or been, rather I am choosing to start a new chapter or maybe even it is a new book.  Most profoundly I have found in Judaism the religious home I have been seeking.  Here, like Jacob I can "struggle with God," whose new name Israel means "one who struggles with God."  I am not asked to believe impossible things.  One hallmark of Reform Judaism is the idea of  informed choice.  It is expected that I will learn and know the variety of ways people practice Judaism, including things like the dietary laws, and determine what practices resonate and work to deepen my life, particularly my spiritual life.

I do not make this choice lightly or with haste.  It has taken me a year and a half of prayer, reflection and participation at Or Ami to come to the point of joining and deciding to start the conversion process.  I told Rabbi Ahuva that I plan to take a full year before completing the ritual of conversion. This year for me will begin after I preach my final sermon on Christmas Day which also corresponds to the first full day of Hanukkah.

One unique part of my journey is that while I am choosing to be Jewish, my family is not.  So a part of this year will be figuring out how to observe the holidays and Shabbat in the context of a family that is not.  We have agreed as a family that there are things we will do together like celebrate Hanukkah by lighting the candles and enjoying latkes and hopefully make sufganiyah (fried jelly filled donuts) and Donna loves the festival of Shavuot because it means I will make cheesecake.

While I do not know all that this next year will hold, I do know I am both at peace and excited about the journey. Unwritten says it well:
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten