Showing posts with label Pirke Avot. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pirke Avot. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Hope Is Not Enough



Rosh Hashanah is not just the beginning of the year, it also marks the new month of Tishre. It is a day when we are supposed to raise our heads high, to hope about tomorrow and to dream about what we can become.

Psalm 27, the psalm that we recite from the beginning of Elul through the haggim, ends with "Be Strong. Have Courage. And place your hope in God."

Clearly hope can be a powerful tool, yet it is somewhat limited. Frankly, when life is at stake, hope is not enough.

To create the necessary changes in ourselves and in the larger world, hope needs to be coupled with action.

In Pirke Avot (the Sayings of Our Ancestors), Rabbi Eliezer advocates that we live in a state of perpetual reflection, repentance and teshuva. I can't think of a more appropriate message for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.  I believe his idea holds the key to not just responding to our contemporary challenges, but also to unlocking the door to a more meaningful life.

But how do we do this?

Bronnie Ware, an Australian nurse, spent several years caring for dying people in their homes. In her role as a palliative care nurse, she listened deeply as dying patients voiced what they regretted most in life. She recently wrote a book called The Top Five Regrets of the Dying.

The first regret of the dying is that they ignored their dreams. It's easy to let our responsibilities take over, and then suddenly we look back and many years have gone by without any progress on those aspirations that animate our souls. It might just be that as adults, we stop dreaming. I don't mean dreaming about pitching for the Red Sox; but rather dreams about places we want to visit, experiences we want to try, accomplishments we want to achieve.

The second regret has to do with working too much. All of these hours away from family and friends begin to add up. During an age of economic uncertainty hard work is a value, but what is the cost on our personal lives. Are we really present when we are home today, especially with our smart phones? 

The third one ironically left me speechless. People regretted that they didn't speak up. They didn't speak up about inequality and injustice, they didn't challenge authority and some mentioned that they didn't say I love you enough to family.

People's fourth regret was losing touch with friends. No explanation needed.

Finally, people regretted that they did not choose to be happy. What is most amazing about this regret is that people realize that happiness is a choice, even a habit that can cultivated. We can choose how we respond to the world around us and about whether to sweat the small stuff. We can embrace an attitude of gratitude instead of letting fear, pettiness and conflict tarnish our appetite for life.

While we may be able to predict most of these regrets of the dying, there are countless people who  live with regret and fear. The question is, what holds us back? And how can we move forward?

The good news is that we don’t have to wait until we are on our deathbed to appreciate the opportunity that God gives us today on Rosh Hashanah - and everyday - to begin anew.

The experience of our Patriarch Isaac opens our eyes as to what happens when we live in fear.

While it is true that Isaac’s life is deeply affected by the Akeidah, his binding on the altar, he goes on to create a full life. He has other moments besides the Akeidah that define him as a person. He gets married, has children and becomes the second patriarch of the Jewish people. Eventually he develops his own dreams about the future and shares them with his children.

Despite the violence and anxiety that permeate our world today, we have the opportunity to live full lives, hopeful lives, happy lives, and lives without regret.

Walt Disney once said, "All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them." It is vital that the courage to hope be coupled with the conviction to pursue our dreams.

By living a life surrounded by those we love and living in concert with our principles, we have the power to transform our homes, our kehilla and our community into the "happiest place on earth"!

Shanah Tovah!

Thursday, January 24, 2013

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.