A Tale of Two Cities: Newtown, CT and Boston, MA

“A Tale of Two Cities: Newtown, CT and Boston, MA”

Parashat Beshalach/ Tu B'Shevat - January 25, 2013/ 15 Shevat, 5773

by Rabbi Charles Savenor

Recently, at the end December, 2012, I had the pleasure of attending the United Synagogue Youth (USY) International Convention in Boston. During the visit, I witnessed nearly 1,000 Jewish youth singing, dancing, davening (praying) and learning with purpose and passion. At one point, I just stood there and watched. It was simply inspiring.

As I watched these youth enjoying the blessing of community, I stopped in my tracks. This public joy and ruach (spirit) was immensely different from the recent mood of our country right now. Images flooded my mind from Newtown, CT, a place just days before stained with tears of sadness, shock and horror. 

The tale of these two cities, so different from one another, began to collide in my mind. While it feels strange to compare, it is not the first time it has been done.

Charles Dickens writes:

It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.

It was an age of wisdom; it was an age of foolishness.

It was an epoch of belief; it was an epoch of incredulity.

It was a season of light; it was a season of darkness.

It was the spring of hope; it was the winter of despair.

There was everything before us; there was nothing before us.

The comparisons between Newtown and Boston do not end there. In reading the papers, we know little about the assassin, Adam Lanza. He had few relationships in his town, except for his barber, the one service he could not procure online.

By contrast, the USY convention in Boston was all about relationships. Jewish teens traveled from all over North America to see old friends and make new ones. Over 200 alumni showed up to see friends with whom they grew up and shared many special formative moments.

The Newtown massacre created horror. The Boston convention created a haven. The Newtown massacre created chaos. The USYers created connections.

Just as we can ask why did the killings occur in Newtown, so too can we ask how and why USY has such a positive impact on our youth?

The success of USY in particular and Jewish youth groups in general is based upon building relationships with our teens and listening to what they have to say. It sounds simple, but it is quite challenging. An important element of the programs has been welcoming the feedback of youth and integrating their feedback into the programs, study sessions and meetings in a positive way.

To listen to another person, one signifies that the other party is important.  To listen to our youth, we show that we care about their ideas, their passions, their challenges and their dreams.  Around the country USY chapters make every effort to create a warm, engaging, and comfortable environment for our youth.  Like "Cheers", the goal is to create a place where everyone knows each other’s name and is respected for who they are and for their individuality.

By contrast, it does not sound like Adam Lanza ever felt accepted. What could have been if there was someone who could have understood whatever affected his soul?

It was an epoch of belief; it was an epoch of incredulity.

In Parshat Beshalach, we relive the miraculous Exodus of the Jewish people. With their backs to the Red Sea and the Egyptian army fast approaching them, the people feel great despair. Moments later they are marching through the divided waters to their salvation.

We can imagine their unbounded joy and spirited singing as each step brought them closer to freedom.

Inspired by the events on earth, the angels want to join in the celebration. Just as the angels begin to sing, God quiets them and asserts, "My handiwork is drowning in the sea, and you want to sing before Me?" (Talmud Sanhedrin 39B)

This thrust of this Midrash, which is frequently mentioned during the Passover Seder, is that we don't celebrate when other human beings suffer. This sentiment may explain why this year's USY convention was so powerful for me.

As happy as I was by the nearly 1,000 inspired and inspiring USYers at the convention, my heart ached then and now for the families who would never see their children reach high school. That USY had scheduled months in advance for Pastor Corey Brooks of Chicago and Colin Goddard of Columbine, CO, to speak against gun violence means that its leadership understand USY conventions need to be connected to and a forum to discuss the issues of our day.   

It was a season of light; it was a season of darkness.

Since the advent of the Internet researchers have predicted that the web and email would increase people’s connection to the outside world. I believe there is ample research that disproves this assertion. Spending huge amounts of time of the Internet can ironically make people feel more alienated and isolated.

From my experience as a rabbi and youth leader, I believe our youth are hungry for connections to living, human beings – parents, teachers, youth professionals and clergy. Part of what the Jewish community has done right with USY has been to provide our youth with accessible role models and real connections with their peers and adults.

What can we do today to address the needs of our youth? For parents, I implore you to connect with your children. Spend time together doing something that is positive, hand-on and team oriented. Something as mundane as family dinner, on Shabbat and during the week, can foster connection and communication.

For our youth, I make a special plea that you remember the words: “V’Ahavta Re’Aycha KaMocha,” “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Remember every time we open our mouths that our words can have a major impact on those around us. 

Choose to say the nice thing, give a compliment. There is a beautiful Yiddish folk saying:  “Kindness is remembered, meanness is felt.”  Choose kindness.

It is vital that we open up the doors of the synagogue as wide as the Red Sea so that Jewish youth - of all ages - feel comfortable walking in to connect, learn, grow and become engaged in the original and best social network, namely community.

It was the spring of hope; it was the winter of despair.

It has been a strange few weeks as our national pain and confusion stares across the table at our Jewish youth community's recent joy and feelings of achievement about this annual gathering.

As I think about the Newtown killings, the need to say the Kaddish becomes overwhelming. The Kaddish is not, however, the prayer for the dead. Rather it is the prayer for the living.  It challenges us not only to believe and have faith in God, but also to make the world a better, more welcoming, more peaceful place. That is our job today.

If we begin with a smile and an outstretched hand, we can turn this winter of despair into a spring of hope.

Looking for the Right Person

Looking for the Right Person

Shemot 2013/ 5773

Rabbi Charlie Savenor

When companies have a high-level position to fill, they frequently employ head hunters to locate the
right person for the job. If we were given the task of finding the right person to serve as the leader
of the Children of Israel during the Exodus, what type of qualities would we look for?

The job description for this executive position might read as follows: “This person must be
confident, charismatic, wise, vibrant, patient, creative and intelligent. It is preferred that s/he has
experience in public relations and wilderness economics. Public speaking is a must.”

While these characteristics are what we might expect of a leader, in this week’s Parsha God makes a
surprising selection. His candidate of choice is Moses, a man who is temperamental, easily
discouraged, and somewhat impatient.
 
If this wasn’t bad enough, Moses makes it clear on several occasions that he doesn’t even want the
position. When approached by God to lead the Children of Israel out of slavery, Moses raises
several reasons why God should choose someone else. He says, “Please, Lord, I am not a man of
words, either in the past or now when you have spoken to me. I am slow of speech and slow of
tongue.” (Exodus 4:10)
 
In essence, Moses confides that his problem lies not with the message, but with the messenger.
Traditional and modern scholars have been fascinated by Moses’ self-depiction as khevad peh v’kaved lashon: slow of speech and slow of tongue. This is usually interpreted as stuttering. Rashi and several other traditional commentators embrace a literal interpretation of the text. According to their view, Moses had a speech impediment. In fact, some go so far as to try and pinpoint which sounds represented the greatest challenge to Moses.

Some modern commentators suggest that Moses declines the invitation to lead because he is neither
skilled in the arena of political debate, nor is he what we might consider a charismatic speaker. In
Moses and Monotheism, Sigmund Freud asserts that Moses’ objection, and the need for Aaron as an
interpreter, allude to the fact that “Moses was an Egyptian.”(Pg.38) According to Freud, Moses does not utilize Aaron as an interpreter with Pharaoh, but rather as a tool for connecting with the Children of Israel.
 
As described above, when Moses speaks of his slow speech, one of the Hebrew words used to
describe it is khaved peh. In the coming Torah portions when “Pharaoh hardens his heart,” the Torah
employs the expression “vehakhbaed et lebo.” (Exodus 8:11)

One simple word, kaved, which means heavy or encumbered, lays out the political tension and real
communication problem between Moses and Pharaoh. A man with difficulty in speaking attempts to
get through to a man who will not listen and is indifferent to human suffering.

We might assume that God wants an eloquent speaker and someone who feels ready and eager to
assume a leadership role. But instead, Moses – hesitant, scared and almost the epitome of a broken
vessel – is chosen. In addition to his humility and wisdom, God chooses Moses because of his
imperfections. The irony of the story is that God accepts Moses as he is. It is Moses who needs to
learn to accept himself. Ultimately, Moses was able to be a leader in spite of his limitations.
 
Our world today continues to be challenged by pharaohs with hardened hearts and modern-day
“plagues,” both natural and manmade. The amount of tikkun – healing – that our society and our
global community demands is daunting. Like Moses, we can easily feel dwarfed by the mission
ahead.
 
It is precisely when the task seems so large that we need to remember that Moses’ inadequacies and
hesitations did not hold him back from being a leader. In fact, when exposed firsthand to injustice
and cruelty, he takes immediate action without stopping to consider the personal ramifications. (Exodus 2:11-12)

From this week’s parsha, we learn that the type of leadership needed to transform the world cannot
easily be captured in a job description. We are all like Moses in that each of us has our own faults
and shortcomings. Similarly, each of us has a unique contribution to make – to our communities, to
society, to the world – if only we learn to accept ourselves as we are.


This Dvar Torah originally appeared in 2006 in The American Jewish World Service parsha series.