Boldly Go – In Memory of Leonard Nimoy

Tonight’s Torah portion, Tetzaveh, is focused on the priestly raiments. We learn about the Ephod, the Breastpiece, the robe, a fringed tunic, headdress and sash, the kinds of yarns that are to be used and metals and gems for adornment.  There was a whole lot of commentary connected to this Torah partion today with people arguing about whether the priestly dress was white and gold or instead blue and black!

After describing the priestly vestments, the Torah speaks of the method of consecration, of the sacrificial practices that must be performed. Finally, we hear of where God will meet with the priests, in the Tent of Meeting which will be sanctified by God’s presence.

The specifics of the discussion of priestly garments are not directly appropriate to the matters of the day, or perhaps considering the many discussions about the color of that dress, all too appropriate. Yet, the Torah which was taught this afternoon was indeed connected to the priests. It focused on the Priestly Benediction and the hand gesture of the character Spock from Star Trek. The much beloved actor who portrayed Spock, Leonard Nimoy, passed away today at the age of 83.

Leonard Nimoy, who grew up Orthodox in Boston to Ukrainian immigrant parents, helped to bring Jewish ideals into millions of homes through Star Trek. Nimoy, actor, director, photographer, poet, ended up so connected to the character of Spock that he struggled to make his own way. His two autobiographies were entitled, “I am not Spock,” published in 1977 and “I am Spock,” published in 1995.

Star Trek, which debuted September 8, 1966 took on the social issues of the day though a campy sci-fi show set in the distant future. Star Trek challenged numerous social norms from women’s rights, to race, equality and much more. Spock’s character presented and represented several challenges to social norms.

Gene Roddenberry, the creator of Star Trek, called him the “conscience of Star Trek.” Spock was a vehicle used to bring science and reason to confront human emotional reactions and beliefs. Whenever a prejudice or some aspect of faith impacted a storyline, Spock was there to squash it or to highlight it.

My favorite Spock scene is one from the movie Wrath of Khan. Spoiler alert, I’m going to tell you how the movie ends. Plug your ears if you’d rather not hear.

The ship was crippled and the only way to save it was for Spock to enter a room full of a lethal level of radiation. The doctor discouraged Spock from entering. Spock incapacitated him, entered, and saved the ship along with all those onboard. When Captain Kirk arrived and interacted with Spock as he lay dying, Leonard Nimoy’s character explained himself by saying that, “Don’t grieve, Admiral. It is logical. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one. I have been and always shall be your friend. Live long and prosper."

It’s a very Kantian message, based in science and reason.

Star Trek’s real message, however, is in Captain Kirk’s response, the Jewish response, set up by Spock’s statement. It is found in the following movie, “The Search for Spock,” which was directed by Nimoy. In it, the crew takes a great risk to recover Spock’s now resurrected body from "The Genesis Planet," I won’t even bother to comment on the obvious religious overtones of that.

Spock, not remembering what happened, asks Kirk, “Why would you do this?” “Why go through this great risk, put the whole crew at risk, to help me?” Captain Kirk responds with a rabbinical statement, “Because the needs of the one, outweigh the needs of the many.” It is a statement based on Mishnah Sanhedrin, which teaches, “Whoever saves a life, it is as if he has saved an entire world.”

Nimoy’s character, Spock, was part of an inter-racial family--well, actually an inter-species family. Spock was part human and part Vulcan. His character and its narrative of nearly five decades of Star Trek episodes and movies about his character, helped people understand mixed-race, multi-cultural, and interfaith families. We followed many story lines about religious rites, cultural stereotypes, discrimination and prejudice. Star Trek taught tolerance and did so significantly through the character of Spock.

Spock showed that geeks could be leaders and helped make science cool. His was a character far ahead of his time, beloved by science fiction fans from the start.

Star Trek’s theme in its early incarnation was “To boldly go where no one has gone before.” The statement was about exploration, about human adventure. In retrospect, it was also what the show did in confronting the accepted ideas of its day. It was bold.

Commander Spock’s character, Start Trek as a show, and Leonard Nimoy throughout his life, went boldly forward and urged us to follow. “Lekh lekha!” Get up and boldly go from where you are used to being and what you are used to having around you. Things are going to change! It was a biblical message. It was the message of the 1960s. It was a Jewish message.

Today, was a day that fans of Star Trek have long dreaded. Leonard Nimoy’s Spock is now truly dead, not to be resurrected in the next movie.

His memory lives on. It was something special today, seeing people all around the world sharing a Jewish sign, the Priestly Benediction, with one another? How meaningful on this day of political argument, of fears of terrorism, of division, that so many offered each other a blessing? “Live long and prosper!”

Leonard Nimoy will always be remembered for his portrayal of the character of Spock, for his on stage portrayal of Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof, for his love of Judaism and for the many things he taught us all about how to live, to be proud of our Judaism, and to care for one another.

Live long and prosper, my friends. Live long and prosper! Shabbat Shalom.

Charlie Hebdo and The Jews - A Sermon for Shabbat Shemot

On Wednesday morning, three men, who are said to have claimed connection to Al Qaeda of the Arabian Peninsula, also known as Al Qaeda of Yemen, attacked the offices of Charlie Hebdo magazine in Paris, killing a dozen people and injuring eight more. The four prominent political cartoonists working for the controversial satirical magazine were all killed. Among them was Georges Wolinski, a French Jew born in Tunisia in 1934 to a Polish Jewish father and a Tunisian Jewish mother, whose family had come to Tunis from Italy. After his father was murdered in 1936, he and his mother moved to France where he became a political satirist and cartoonist.

Other victims of the terrorists included two unarmed police officers on patrol to prevent attacks against the previously attacked Charlie Hebdo offices. One of the officers executed by the terrorists was Ahmed Merabet, a Muslim. In the attack, the perpetrators killed a cross-section of France: Jews, Christians, Muslims, secularists, native born and immigrants.

Much of what Charlie Hebdo printed on its pages was offensive. It was not offensive in the way that National Lampoon or Saturday Night Live might offend. It was offensive in the way that the old Totally Tasteless Jokes books, for those who are familiar with them, could offend. It was offensive in the South Park sort of way, from the social and political left, but with explicitly graphic cartoons. Yes, Charlie Hebdo’s pages offended Muslims. They also offended Jews, Christians, and just about anyone else whom the magazine’s authors and cartoonists thought they could target.

The response to the massacre of the staff of Charlie Hebdo has been significant.

The French Islamic community, fearing a backlash because of this week’s attacks, has responded very strongly. The French news service AFP stated today that:

French imams condemned the violence committed in the name of Islam during Friday prayers as the country reels from the double hostage dramas that followed the massacre at Charlie Hebdo magazine on Wednesday.

The same message — distancing the country’s five million Muslims from the jihadists responsible for the attacks — was relayed at more than 2,300 mosques across France.

“We denounce the odious crimes committed by the terrorists, whose criminal action endangers our willingness to live together,” says the rector of the Grand Mosque of Paris, Dalil Boubakeur.

He also appeals to “all the Muslims of France” to take part in demonstrations planned for Sunday to pay homage to the 12 victims of the attack on Charlie Hebdo, the bloodiest in France in more than half a century.

Muslim theologian Tareq Oubrou, an imam in Bordeaux, in the southwest, said Muslims were furious that their religion had been “confiscated by crazies… and uneducated, unbalanced people”.

Numerous foreign leaders have said that they will attend the huge rally in Paris set for Sunday.

British Prime Minister David Cameron and Spanish Prime Minister Prime Minister Mariano Rajoy, whose countries have suffered major terror attacks in the past decade, were among the first to say they would attend. German Chancellor Angela Merkel, Italian Prime Minister Matteo Renzi and Belgian Prime Minister Charles Michel said they would also come.

President Obama stated today, “I want the people of France to know that the United States stands with you today, stands with you tomorrow,” and described France as America’s “oldest ally.” “We fight alongside you to uphold values that we share,” the President said.

Most of us who have offered our support for the value of free speech over the past few days would not also support the content of that speech as offered by Charlie Hebdo. In fact, most of us would decry much of it. Yet, we also must be concerned when the opportunity for us to become offended by the views of others is silenced, when protests and criticism that rattle us and disturb us are declared illegal or silenced by threat of violence. That is the highway to oppression. The hangman may well come for Charlie Hebdo first, but when the hangman comes, we know that there are others on the list as well, including us- selected for what we believe, what we say, how we look, where we're from... And in fact, in France this week, first they came for free speech and then they came for the Jews.

This morning we awoke to the news that two new people, Amedy Coulibaly and Hayat Boumeddienne, were wanted in connection with the robbery of a gas station and murder of French police officer that occurred yesterday. This afternoon, Amedy Coulibaly entered a Kosher Deli/Supermarket with two AK-47s. He took nineteen hostage. Coulibaly called FBM-TV in Paris this afternoon and stated that he chose the store because he was targeting Jews. Furthermore, he claimed to be part of the Islamic State, stating that he had orders from the Caliphate.

Four hostages eventually were killed along with Coulibaly. Of the fifteen survivors, four were critically wounded. Meyer Habib, a Jewish Member of Parliament in France, said that among the dead was his best friend and that he knew two others who were also killed in the store.

No few synagogues around Paris chose not to hold Shabbat services this evening and to close for the weekend out of fear: not all of them, but no few of them. Many members of the Jewish community are simply too afraid to go to Jewish places tonight. For the first time since World War II, synagogues in France have shuttered their doors on Shabbat out of fear.

While many proudly declare “Je suis Charlie!” It will be interesting to see how many also declare “Je suis Juif!” What sort of support will the Jewish community of France receive in the aftermath of this attack, an attack that comes in a year following a dramatic upsurge of Antisemitism in France complete with numerous attacks against synagogues, a year that saw the highest emigration of French Jews to Israel in many years. It is two years after an attack on a Jewish day school in Toulouse in which a rabbi and three children were killed by terrorists. It is also merely months after a Summer that saw mobs marching through the streets of France shouting “Death to the Jews” and “Hitler was right.”

My friend Rabbi Audrey Korotkin pointed out today in answering the question, “What has changed?” that it is simply that the target of such violence and hatred is no longer just Jews. France did not say, “Je suis Juif” then, nor did it the numerous other times when Jews were attacked and killed as Jews, and it probably will not now. Charlie Hebdo, the magazine filled with hate and derision, deserves love simply because the French cherish freedom of speech. Do the French cherish the lives and freedom of Jews? So far the answer seems to be silence.

Silence…a silence that brings us to this week’s Torah portion.

The Israelites were fertile and prolific. They multiplied and increased very greatly, so that the land was filled with them. Then new king arose over Egypt, who did not know Joseph.

It has been four score years since a great evil took hold in Europe. In August of 1934, Germany came to have a Fuhrer. In September of 1935, it passed the Nuremberg Laws. We are of an age that has forgotten. It is not the good Joseph that we have forgotten, but the opposite, the evil, how it came to pass, how it grew and prospered. Europe has forgotten what allowing hatred to flourish in its streets can produce. We are the king who forgot.

The Nazis spread fear and hatred. They did not stand for enlightened modern values, but for contempt of many of them. Those Muslims who support and encourage participation in Al Qaeda, who seek the growth and spread of the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria, who advocate for the ascension to power of the Muslim Brotherhood in Arab nations through violent means also seek to spread fear and hatred. They do not support those values cherished in the west of Freedom of Speech and Religion or many others advocated by majorities in western nations. Many of them have as goals the completion of Hitler’s work in the genocide of the Jews and the domination of the globe.

There are voices seeking to bring change. My friend, Zuhdi Jasser of the American Islamic Forum for Democracy has spent much of the last three days being interviewed on national television. This is a link to one such appearance in Phoenix.

Egyptian President Abdel Fattah Al Sisi, who took power by ousting the elected Muslim Brotherhood government, who appears by all evidence to be a successor to Hosni Mubarak as a military strongman, is also the one leader in the Muslim world who perhaps is positioned to speak out in condemnation of religious radicals with whom he and his government are at war.

Last week, on New Year’s Day in fact, Al Sisi spoke at Al Azar University, one of the leading Sunni religious institutions in the world. He stated:

“It’s inconceivable that the thinking that we hold most sacred should cause the entire umma (multinational community of Muslim believers) to be a source of anxiety, danger, killing and destruction for the rest of the world. Impossible! That thinking – I am not saying ‘religion’ but ‘thinking’ – that corpus of texts and ideas that we have sacralized over the years, to the point that departing from them has become almost impossible, is antagonizing the entire world. It’s antagonizing the entire world!

Is it possible that 1.6 billion [Muslims] should want to kill the rest of the world’s inhabitants – that is 7 billion—so that they themselves may live? Impossible! … I say and repeat again that we are in need of a religious revolution. You, imams, are responsible before Allah. The entire world, I say it again, the entire world is waiting for your next move… because this umma is being torn, it is being destroyed, it is being lost – and it is being lost by our own hands.”

Canadian Muslim women’s rights activist Farzana Hassan, yesterday offered words in the Toronto Star that we all should hear:

Muslim organizations have naturally denounced the attacks.

However, the attitudes of many Muslims remain steeped in an ancient mindset that is anathema to the secular West, and the usual rationalizations have diluted these so-called condemnations.

The implied argument is that the victims have in a sense helped to bring the tragedy on themselves, because if they offend the sentiments of over a billion people, there are bound to be some who will take up arms.

In other words, this terrorist outrage deserves to be condemned, but the West needs to understand that Islamic sensitivities need to be respected; how can so many non-believers just not get it?

Yet, Westerners do get it.

It is just that they quite rightly repudiate it.

It may sound trite to say that freedom of expression is the cornerstone of Western liberal democracy, but it is true. Mockery, satire, even blasphemy form a part of this.

Of what use is the right to say only what everyone wants to hear?

It is only in challenging many so-called sacred values that the West has made progress towards formulating the best of societies where rights are guaranteed — ironically, even the rights of religious people who would deny those rights to others…

We are now faced with a sad and stark dichotomy where two worlds, one that cherishes individual freedoms, the other that suppresses them at every opportunity, are constantly pitted against each other.

The West must defend its liberties.

Cowering under Islamist intolerance would dilute some of the most treasured aspects of its civilization.

Rabbi Korotkin notes, using the words of Martin Niemoller:

First the Islamists came for the Jews. But the world by and large did not speak out, because they were not Jews. Now the Islamists have come for the satirists. Does the world stand by, because most of them are not satirists? Do they think that the cartoonists of “Charlie Hebdo” are in a different category, because they, like Zionists, were asking for it?

As Rabbi Korotkin essentially asks, “Is Europe ready to confront a hangman that has come for the Jews and the satirists?”

This year will almost certainly see a dramatic increase in the number of Jews leaving France for safety in Israel. Will it be a year that sees Europe care about that fact? Or be less than happy about it if they do care? They will march, but will they only march? Will they watch the hangman come, and even, in the words of Maurice Ogden, serve him faithfully? Or will they, and we along with them, stand against him in public square?

Our thoughts are with the people of France tonight and with our Jewish brethren, once again facing both tragedy and ongoing threats. May light and not darkness come into the City of Light tonight and in the days and nights to come. May we support those who seek to bring light into the darkness of hate-filled minds and be successful in our efforts. May the prayers and songs for peace and comfort that we and Jews around the world have offered tonight bring strength to our people everywhere.

Tonight, Nous Sommes Juifs Francais. We are all French Jews. Chazak, Chazak, v’Nitchazeik, be strong, be strong, and let us strengthen one another.

Shabbat Shalom.

When We Were Slaves : A Sermon on Ferguson

When We Were Slaves : A Sermon on Ferguson and Eikev

August 15, 2014

Rabbi David Kaufman

This week’s Torah portion contains these words from Deuteronomy Chapter 8:

⁶ Observe the commands of Adonai your God, walking in obedience to him and revering him. ⁷ For Adonai your God is bringing you into a good land—a land with brooks, streams, and deep springs gushing out into the valleys and hills; ⁸ a land with wheat and barley, vines and fig trees, pomegranates, olive oil and honey; ⁹ a land where bread will not be scarce and you will lack nothing; a land where the rocks are iron and you can dig copper out of the hills.

¹⁰ When you have eaten and are satisfied, praise Adonai your God for the good land he has given you. ¹¹ Be careful that you do not forget Adonai your God, failing to observe his commands, his laws and his decrees that I am giving you this day.¹² Otherwise, when you eat and are satisfied, when you build fine houses and settle down, ¹³ and when your herds and flocks grow large and your silver and gold increase and all you have is multiplied, ¹⁴ then your heart will become proud and you will forget Adonai your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery. 

What does it mean for us to remember that we were slaves in Egypt?

The obvious answer to that question is that we should be thankful to God for all that we have received. It was, of course, God who brought us forth from slavery in Egypt. The Torah portion makes that answer clear by explaining that if we do not follow God’s commandments, then bad things will happen to us.

Yet, is that all it means for us to remember that we were slaves?

Remembering that we were slaves also should urge us to confront oppression and slavery wherever we see it. Jews throughout the world see exactly that meaning in the words and advocate for freedom and liberty. When Jews see the weeping of the suffering, we weep. We also try to end their suffering.

When we forget that we were slaves- and it is important to understand that this is not a matter of if, but when, then we don’t necessarily do the right thing. Pride is not something that we are lacking. We take pride in our accomplishments and those of our friends and families. We also cherish our wealth and our power. We earned it, after all. Those without either, well…we convince ourselves all too easily, they earned that too.

We all sometimes forget that we were once slaves: poor, powerless, oppressed.

But when the images of oppression are obvious, we pay attention. We pay attention when see discrimination, when we see rights violated, and when we see violence used by the powerful against the weak. We pay attention and challenge decisions even when we’re talking about decisions made by Jews in their defense, such as something Israel might do to ensure its security. We pay attention when we see immigrants being treated poorly, for we remember that we were immigrants. We remember that we once stood before Pharaoh’s mighty army with none of our own.

I have found myself in the position this week of on the one hand addressing the conflict between Israel and Hamas and on the other responding to the events in the northern part of St. Louis, in Ferguson, Missouri, where an unarmed young man was shot and where police descended upon rioters like a military confronting an enemy.

Bear with me for a moment--I hate the phrase “As a Jew.” I think it is generally used by people who want to excuse a sentiment opposed by most Jews, and who in many such cases would like to express why their own personal interpretation of Judaism is the only reasonable one. I would suggest to you, that whenever you see that phrase being used, you are about to see or hear something that the speaker believes is opposed by Jews who are representatives of the Jewish community. Usually the representative speakers would use additional qualifiers such as, “As a Reform Jew,” or “as a Rabbi,” or “as a supporter of Israel.” Never “as a Jew,” and someone who actually represents the Jewish tradition could say, “As Jews, we…”

So where I might say something like “As a Jew, I feel for the oppressed,” with the idea that all Jews should. Instead, I would rather say, “The Jewish tradition reminds us to care about the oppressed and to remember that we slaves,” "As Jews, we feel for the oppressed." We have been at times in our history like the people the people standing before those dressed in armor and at times we have been like those dressed in armor. In fact, one could note that we were both this week, some marching in Ferguson and others defending Israeli from those who would kill them.

I believe that in both cases, Jews were thinking about what Judaism teaches even if in both cases other things may have governed decisions rather than Torah and Talmud.

In fact, in many cases wherein we find Jews being told to remember that we were strangers in Egypt or that we were once slaves, we modern Jews also remember the Shoah and the directive, “Never Again!” So when we see protesters standing before tanks in Ferguson, we remember being slaves. And when we hear those standing before tanks in Gaza and firing rockets into Israel shouting, “Prepare for the annihilation of Israel!” and “Death to the Jews!” our reaction is both to remember times when our people was oppressed and insecure and other times when those threatening to commit genocide against our people carried out the threat. We remember pogroms and exiles. We remember the Holocaust. And when we look at the persecution of minorities in other parts of the region, the consequences of failure to stand up in defense of the Jewish state become readily apparent.

We are both mindsets in the same Jews. We ache because of the suffering of the oppressed and impoverished. Yet, we also understand that were it not for the strength of the Israel Defense Forces and their ability to defend the people of Israel, we, the Jewish people, could once again become oppressed, impoverished, or worse.

The Torah’s warning is not only that in our success, we may become proud and forget that we were slaves. Or fail to acknowledge that it was God, not our own strength, who freed us. It is quite possible that we may also, in our success, forget all the suffering and even miracles that it took for us to acquire our prosperity and security. We are doubly reminded at such times about the tenuous nature of our people’s prosperity in a world of threats against us.

So on this Shabbat we stand with Israel strongly as it defends itself against attacks, but feel compassion for those who are suffering because of its response. And we look upon the strife in Ferguson, Missouri not only with a concern that justice be done in the death of young man, but with concern that the lives of the people in the community will improve.

We will remember that we were slaves in Egypt. Shabbat Shalom.

My Words of Prayer for The Iowa Holocaust Memorial Dedication

Words of Prayer for The Iowa Holocaust Memorial Dedication

October 23, 2013

Rabbi David Kaufman

I would like to start with a special thank you to Judy Blank whose persistence, energy, enthusiasm and commitment of time and resources have brought this memorial to completion. It is an honor and a privilege to be here today.

To all who have been involved in the process of its creation, especially to Judy:

Thank you, thank you, thank you- for the many hours of contemplation, discussion, design, debate, support, construction; for dollars generously given and well spent and for open space put to good use; for bipartisan support of something that affects all of us, every race, every nation, every faith; for remembering; for a willingness to confront the concept of evil among humankind; for the strength and courage not merely to say the words, “Never again”; and for striving to prevent this kind of evil from happening to any people in any nation ever again.

The Iowa Holocaust Memorial is far more than a memorial honoring those who died during one historical period: it is a tremendously moving educational resource focusing on humankind's potential for acting inhumanely toward others and of our capacity to rise up against evil. It is not a site that makes one consider past events alone. The memorial's greatest strength is that it makes each individual think, "What can I do?"

In that vein, the words of Rabbi Tarfon come to mind, “It is not up to you to complete the work, but neither may you desist from it.” We must try. And the words of Martin Buber:

When people come to you for help, do not turn them off with pious words, saying, ‘Have faith and take your troubles to God.’ Act instead as though there were no God, as though there were only one person in the world who could help -- only yourself.

It isn’t enough to pray, though we should. It isn’t enough to hope for help, though we should. We must act as if our action alone might make all the difference.

So the motto of the United States Holocaust Memorial and Museum, a simple four words, is meaningful for us today, “What you do matters.”

What I do, what you do, what we who are gathered here do, what our state does, what our nation does matters. The real power of this particular Holocaust memorial is that not only does it remember those who died and those who saved the living, not only does it make one think about the dark events of decades ago, educating us about what happened and why, not only that, this memorial makes us consider our world today and what we should do now.

We should care about people across oceans as Iowans have long done. We should care about those suffering in Darfur, Rwanda, Bosnia and the Nuba Mountains. “Never again” should not be allowed to become again and again, not on our watch.

So I offer this prayer today:

May the words of the Iowa Holocaust Memorial be felt in our hearts when we walk through it,

May it reflect the motto of the State of Iowa, “Our liberties we prize and our rights we will maintain,” as human liberties and human rights for all people everywhere,

May people of all faiths and of every nation who read the verses etched upon its faces, see his or her own face, his or her own faith, his or her own nation and people within them,

May this memorial inspire heroic character: a conscience willing to protest injustice, to advance the cause of freedom and right, and to promote peace and understanding,

May it teach of sacrifice, of hope and not despair, of courage in the face of evil,

and

May it inspire generations to come not merely to remember the past and never forget, but to remember why and not let it happen again.

And let us say, Amen.

Now as we dedicate the Iowa Holocaust Memorial, it is customary in the Jewish tradition to say this prayer at a time of dedication and because its meaning is so poignant on this particular day and for this particular event, let us sing the words of the Hebrew prayer Shecheheyanu, which means, “Blessed are you, O God, sovereign of the universe, who has kept us alive, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this day.” 

When Lightning Strikes - Yom Kippur Morning 2013

On the afternoon of June 29, Shabbat, with not a storm cloud in sight, a bolt of lightning struck three campers who were playing Frisbee at Goldman Union Camp Institute GUCI including two nine year-olds, a girl from St. Louis named Lily Hoberman, and a boy from Louisville named Noah Auerbach, as well as a 12 year-old from Cincinnati named Ethan Kadish. The lightning strike that hit the camp was the only lightning strike in the area at all according to news reports and no storm at all was close to the camp at the time. Not only was it not raining, the skies were clear but for a few clouds. This was a "bolt out of the blue."

Rabbi Ron Klotz, recently retired as Director of Goldman Union Camp Institute, wrote in his blog a little over week later that:

I guess one could say that this is an ultimate teachable moment.  I've had numerous conversations this week with friends who question, "How could God let something like this happen?" and, "How can one have faith in the midst of so much doubt?"  With the High Holy days approaching early this fall, I know that many of us will be wrestling with such questions.  When we read the Unetane Tokef on Yom Kippur..."Who shall live and who shall die.  Who by fire and who by water, etc?" 

In speaking to those who were at Goldman Union Camp when the lightning struck and seeing what went on during the weeks that followed, I think it important to discuss with you another theme of Yom Kippur. Not about the Unetaneh Tokef with its stark treatment of life and death and its troubling assumption that God decides fates, but instead I would like to speak about the theme of the afternoon Torah portion, “It is not beyond you,” not too distant, not too difficult. I do not want to talk about why lightning may have struck. Today, I want to talk about what happens when it does.

For the past twelve years, I have spent two weeks each Summer at GUCI. Of those roughly 180 days give or take a few, I probably spent a hour or more on over 100 of those days at the pool or at the sports fields within a couple hundred feet of where the lightning struck. As I stand here before you this morning, I can imagine in detail the entire day. In my mind, I can see the campers shuffling in to the dining hall for the late wake up breakfast wearing pajamas, most with flip flops on their feet. They eat bagels and cereal set out on a buffet and sit with their friends at whatever table they like. Breakfast ends and there is a short time before services begin. They go back to their cabins and dress for the day gathering at the Beit Tefilah where GUCI campers enjoy music filled services.

After services, the camp would have Kiddush over very sweet and usually very warm grape juice and do the Motzi over tiny mostly dried out pieces of Challah. Then everyone heads to get lunch. During Shabbat lunch, one can sit wherever one likes outside near the dining hall. It is a relaxing time at camp. After a brief menucha, a rest period, campers change into their swim suits and head down to the pool and sports fields. From 1:30 pm to about 4 pm, every Saturday the kids play games on the fields, swim in the pools, and, if they would like, they can attend optional mini-groups which include everything from arts and crafts to discussions about the world of Harry Potter, singing popular tunes like an opera singer, playing your belly as a musical instrument and my kids’ favorite, the Clergy Kids Support Group.

That afternoon, like every Shabbat, at 1:30 pm kids were just entering the pool, a game or two would be just beginning on the basketball courts, and half a dozen to a dozen kids would begin playing Ultimate Frisbee. There were a few clouds in the sky but not many. The sun was shining. It was a warm and sunny end of June day.

Ethan Kadish was teaching Lily Hoberman and Noah Auerbach how to play Ultimate Frisbee. Suddenly, there was a flash of light and a loud bang. A neighbor said it sounded like artillery going off. The lightning did not strike the six story high climbing tower which was a couple of hundred feet away. It did not strike the line of trees near-by, nor the basketball courts, where a game was underway. Instead, the lightning struck three children playing Frisbee on a sun drenched field. From this point on, I cannot imagine. It is difficult for me to even visualize what happened next even after hearing about it from multiple people.

That is, however, what I think is vitally important to discuss. What do we do when there is a bolt out of the blue in our lives? Would we be prepared to face the challenge?

It just so happens that only a few days before the lightning struck, some members of the camp staff had finished their recertification for CPR. At least one of them was playing basketball not much more than a hundred feet away. There were a number of other staff members who also knew CPR who were nearby. All three campers received CPR within a minute and all three of camp’s Automated External Defibrillators or AEDs, were put into use shortly thereafter.

The Monday morning after the lightning struck, I had not seen much of anything written about what happened. I had seen the very brief statements from Goldman Union Camp and I listened to a conference call during which Rabbi Covitz read a prepared statement that offered less information than could be found in the Indianapolis Star. As it became clear that it was only the response of the staff of the camp that saved the lives of the three children and I read postings from friends on staff at the camp praising the actions of their friends that day, I was inspired to write an article about it on my blog. The article, “A Bolt Out of the Blue,” ended up being shared widely by the URJ and by Goldman Union Camp and read by thousands of people from around the world including hundreds of my colleagues and parents and alumni of camp. Most importantly, as I found out later, my article helped bring comfort to the leadership and staff at camp.

As I wrote in my article, when the lightning struck:

Life sometimes gives people the opportunity to demonstrate their best. On this day of challenge, in perhaps the most stressful moments of urgency that will occur during their lifetimes, [the first responders] showed that the preparation and training, compassion and passion, which have long been the hallmarks of Goldman Union Camp and its staff, when put into action can make a difference not just in theory but in real life.

Preparation, both preparing of appropriate skills and emotional preparation, helps. Feeling like you can accomplish the necessary task, feeling like you can make a difference, matters. Goldman Union Camp does a good job of making its campers feel empowered as Jews and ultimately as members of their communities. The staff of the camp includes many who have spent over ten summers at camp as campers, as part of Avodah, the camp service corps, as assistant counselors, counselors and leadership staff. Some on staff have spent upwards of fifteen summers at camp, coming as children with their rabbi parents and attending the camp for young children, Camp Katan. GUCI has had a major impact in developing the character of those who now serve on its staff.

As I wrote that day:

Every morning at GUCI, the camp sings “L’takein”, also known as the “Na Na Song” because of its introductory chorus. These are the words written by Danny Nichols [a well known Jewish musician who tours the nation every summer visiting camp after camp] someone who has been a part of the GUCI community since childhood. His words inspire the faculty, staff, counselors and campers at GUCI every day. [The song is but two lines long.]

Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu melech ha’olam shenatan lanu hizdamnut l’takein et ha’olam!

Blessed are you, Adonai, our God, Ruler of the Universe, who has given us the opportunity to mend the world!

Sometimes, as the Summer drags on and the morning seems to come all too early, the hands may not be raised as high up in the air or sway as much from side to side, but the sentiment seeps into the thoughts of those who hear it. Each morning, those at camp hear, “I have the opportunity to mend the world today.”

Most of the time, the listeners probably think of large scale social action such as feeding the hungry or helping the environment. Some of them may realize that the words could apply to helping make their cabins better, their friends happier. Everyone at camp, all of the campers, all of the counselors, hear those words every morning. As I said in my blog:

Simply put, when [the] opportunity came with urgency on [one] Shabbat afternoon, people imbued with the concept that they could mend the world, saved the lives of three children.

Many of you have asked how the students affected by the lightning are doing.

Noah Auerbach from The Temple in Louisville, Kentucky suffered relatively minor injuries. When he returned to camp with his family for the final Shabbat of the first session so that he could thank the first responders and say a proper good bye to his cabin mates, counselors, and other good friends, he showed off the burned area on his foot where the lightning left his body.

Lily Hoberman from Congregation Shaare Emeth in St. Louis suffered slightly worse injuries, including more burns. On the Friday night that Noah Auerbach visited camp with his family, Lily Hoberman attended Shabbat services at home and in front of a very packed congregation there to support her, recited the Birkat Hagomel, the blessing for one who has recovered from a serious illness. Imagine a nine year old girl whose heart had stopped beating a week earlier standing in front of her congregation reciting these words:

Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech ha'olam, ha-gomel l’hayavim tovot sheg’malani kol tov.

Blessed are You, Adonai our God, ruler of the world,
who rewards with goodness,
and who has rewarded me with goodness.

According to an article in the St. Louis Jewish Light,

Michelle Hoberman, Lily’s mother, said of the swift response of GUCI’s camp counselors and staff, “they literally saved her life. One young man, a wilderness specialist at the camp from Pittsburgh, administered CPR and shocked Lily back to life. He was the angel who saved her. Another young man from Cincinnati, Ohio, a college student, was there to assist him. Without those first responders, without those counselors, the result would not have been the same. They were trained so well. I am so happy that we got to meet the people who saved our children.

The Hobermans, along with the parents of the other two campers who were injured, the Auerbachs of Louisville, Ky. and the Kadishes of Cincinnati, issued a joint statement thanking camp counselors and staff.

“Their extensive training and the camp’s preparedness allowed them to be life savers when the urgent need arose. The way in which URJ quickly responded by bringing together the support staff and senior leadership was phenomenal and we are grateful for them for maintaining the safety and security of our children and for other concerned campers.”

With an outpouring of support and a desire to donate funds following the event, the three families created the Miracle Kids Medical and Rescue Fund at GUCI to help fund the annual rescue training of the staff and to provide new and additional medical equipment for camp.

The leadership of the Union for Reform Judaism demonstrated a high level of caring and concern both for the families of the affected children and for the staff at camp. Immediately after the event a senior staff team including the Director of Camping and a leading crisis counselor came to GUCI to provide support for the staff there as they addressed the psychological impact of the event on both their campers and themselves.

While the recoveries of Noah and Lily were relatively swift and complete, Ethan Kadish faces many challenges ahead. Evidently taking the brunt of the impact of the lightning, Ethan’s injuries were much more severe and his recovery will be measured in increments over many months and years. He suffered a traumatic brain injury in addition to other ailments that have left him unable to speak or move voluntarily as of yet and he requires hours of therapy each day. The URJ recently sent out a letter asking for funds to be donated to Help Hope Live, a catastrophic injury fund, in the name of Ethan Kadish to help the family pay for his extreme medical bills in the years ahead, bills that have and will continue to dramatically exceed the cap of available insurance coverage.

One morning, while I was at camp, Danny Nichols, who spent the week at camp, and Camp Director Mark Covitz drove to Cincinnati to visit Ethan and his family in the hospital. Ethan’s younger sister was also there with her parents and brother. She had been attending camp along with her brother and had remained at camp during the week after the lightning strike. The family members, associated with GUCI for many years, are big fans of Danny Nichols and are particularly fond of his song, “Chazak.” Danny recorded a special version of the song and dedicated it to Ethan. The chorus of the song is “Chazak, Chazak, v’nithazek. Be strong, be strong, and we’ll strengthen one another.” These are the words we traditionally say when we finish reading a book of the Torah.

Danny Nichols sang the song with the family at Ethan’s bedside and I can only imagine the strength of the emotions present. Recently, I contacted Alexia Kadish, Ethan’s mother, letting her know that our congregation sends its prayers to her family and for her son’s continued healing. The family greatly appreciates the outpouring of support that they have received from our congregation and from many others. Today, we continue to think of the Kadish family and wish them strength and courage as they face the challenges ahead. I think as well of Rabbi Sissy Coran and the rest of the staff of Rockdale Temple in Cincinnati who have been of immense support to the family since the lightning struck. Chazak, Chazak, v’Nitchazeik. Be strong, be strong, and we will strengthen one another.

I concluded my article written two days after the lightning struck with words in which, having heard more about what happened since, I have even more confidence. That Monday, I wrote:

There are going to be times in our lives, hopefully very few, when we will be struck by a bolt out of the blue, suddenly confronted by a difficult challenge. For most of us, those words will only be idiomatic. For three children on a Shabbat afternoon at camp, it literally happened to them. When such an occurrence happens to us, may we be blessed to be among those who have the compassion and care to reassure us as we face the difficulty and the ability to help us to overcome the challenge. [That] Saturday afternoon, Goldman Union Camp Institute proved what I have known for many years: that it is such a place. It is why I send my kids to camp, why I spend time on faculty at camp, and why I encourage others to send their kids to camp. GUCI is a special place and its faculty and staff are exceptional people.

It is my hope that I, our staff, and you the members of our congregation and our community will be able to provide compassion, caring, support and comfort to each one of us individually and to each of our families during our times of need as well. That is the kind of environment that we work to create and maintain.

When lightning strikes, we put our preparation into action. We rely on the people with whom we have surrounded ourselves, our friends, our neighbors, our congregation, our community. We pray and we hope. We cry. We hug. We seek out support. Like the Kadish family does through Ethan’s Caring Bridge page, we offer thanks for the blessings that we have even amid the curses we have faced. We go on, though it may be difficult or more than difficult.

This High Holidays, I have spoken to you four times. On Rosh Hashanah, I noted that we should care about what is going on in the world and act to make our world a better place. Last night, I spoke about what it means to “Love your neighbor as yourself.” All of the sermons that I have offered this year tie in to this one. They are all at their heart about one theme: preparing yourself to be ready to help others and to give them strength when they most need it. If you are ready to care and ready to act, you can be of help when lightning strikes. You can help to strengthen others.

Today we join with those around the country sending strength and comfort to the family of Ethan Kadish and let us make the promise to work to strengthen one another. It is not beyond us, nor too distant, nor too difficult.

May this year be a year in which we bring blessings into the lives of others.

Gamar Chatimah Tovah, may we help to inscribe one another in the book of our lives for a good year. Good yom tov.

Remove the Stumbling Block - A sermon for Jewish Disabilities Month 2013

Sermon for Mishpatim – Jewish Disabilities Month 2013

Rabbi David Kaufman

February 8, 2013

This week’s Torah portion is Mishpatim. Parshat Mishpatim contains many laws and statutes including the famous statement about damages, “An eye for an eye or a tooth for a tooth,” which the rabbis come to understand to mean “the value of an eye for an eye and the value of a tooth for a tooth.” This Torah portion also contains laws about how to treat those in our communities who are less fortunate than we are and particularly, how to deal with those in our midst who are challenged to live normal lives.

Mishpatim reminds us (Ex. 22:20-24):

You shall not wrong a stranger or oppress him, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt. You shall not ill-treat any widow or orphan. If you do mistreat them, I will heed their outcry as soon as they cry out to Me and my anger shall blaze forth and I will put you to the sword, and your spouses shall become widows or widowers, your children orphans. If you lend money to My people, to the poor who is in your power, do not act toward him as a creditor: exact no interest from him.

Remember that “you were a stranger.” The line is oft repeated in our tradition. Yet it means more than that. It isn’t that each of us was a stranger. The real force of the statement is that we were, are, and always will be strangers. We are forever strangers in a wilderness. For some of us, the challenge is greater than for others, but we all need help to get through the challenges in our lives and as we get older, those challenges that all of us will face will include disabilities.

“This month is Jewish Disabilities Awareness Month. According to the National Organization on Disability, 54 million Americans have some form of disability. That’s nearly one in every five Americans. According to the 2010 Census, one in 12 children in the U.S. has a disability; that means 5.2 million American children have a mental or physical disability. When you factor in friends, families, and community members, the number of Americans affected by disability issues multiplies exponentially.” (www.rac.org)

While some of us have friends and family members who face or faced significant physical and mental challenges from birth, life will challenge all of us as we get older. Our eyesight and hearing fade along with our memories and physical abilities. Where once we took the stairs two at a time, for some, it is difficult or impossible to take them at all.

We cherish our independence, the ability to live alone, to travel alone, to open doors alone. Yet life sometimes makes that difficult.

Many wonderful institutions in our community help those facing physical and mental challenges overcome them.

Mosaic, Easter Seals, Variety and whole host of other organizations and agencies work to improve the lives of people with disabilities in our community. Too many of us think about these organizations as working for “them,” others who are not like us, when in fact, they are very much like us. “Remember you were a stranger.”

Proverbs 31:8 tells us, “Speak up for those who cannot speak…speak up, judge righteously, champion the poor and the needy.”

And in Leviticus 19:14, we find “You shall not insult the deaf, or place a stumbling block before the blind.” It seems easy enough to do. We tend to look at this verse, particularly the second part as if all we have to do is not go out of our way to make things difficult. Yet what is the verse really telling us? What happens if we see that there is or will be a stumbling block in their path? Is not our obligation to help them to avoid it?

This verse from Leviticus is a directive that is literally applicable on a playground. Children often treat those who are different in not-so-nice ways. They may well tease someone who is deaf by talking behind their back, by ridiculing and then acting as if nothing happened. They could well find it amusing when someone blind would be made to trip. One can envision these things. We may even remember seeing similar behavior on the playgrounds of our youth. Some of us may have acted to prevent these actions. Others in shame may recall participating in them or doing nothing to stop them.

Adults certainly can do this type of thing as well, but we learn over time that we ourselves come to be treated in the way that we treat others. In fact, one of the best measures of what kind of person we are is the way in which we treat those with less power than we have.

Our Tradition speaks of the deaf, the blind, those with speech impediments and those with learning disabilities and in every instance we are encouraged to help the person with the disability to overcome it.

We read in Deuteronomy 15:11, “If there be among you a needy person, you shall not harden thy heart, but shall surely open your hand.” It is a statement about giving to the poor, but just as certainly it is a statement about reaching out to lend a hand. It is a statement about our need not just to avoid placing stumbling blocks, but to look ahead and make sure that stumbling blocks are not already there. We need to actively help, not merely to avoid causing problems.

I came across this in an article in the Forward about disabilities in the Orthodox community:

About 10 years ago, Jason Lieberman stopped wearing tefillin. This was not an act of rebellion — Lieberman’s cerebral palsy simply made it too difficult for him to put them on. Seven years later, Lieberman, 34, who serves as treasurer of Matan, which provides Jewish education programs to special needs children, sought help from his extensive network in the Jewish community: Where could he find an occupational therapist who had experience in training disabled Jews to put on their own tefillin? The answers disappointed him. Two rabbis offered to give him a heter — a dispensation — so that he wouldn’t have to wear tefillin at all. Another suggested that he get someone else to put them on for him. That was exactly what he was trying to avoid. “I know I have the skills to do it,” Lieberman told a rapt audience of rabbinical students... at Yeshivat Chovevei Torah, in New York. “I just need someone who understands how my body works, to teach me how to do it.”

Or how about these questions found in the same article:

What do you tell a disabled Jew who is concerned that the cane she needs in order to walk to synagogue during the Sabbath violates the prohibition on carrying items? What about a wheelchair? And can her husband push it without violating the proscription against work? If that’s a problem, what if the wheelchair is motorized with a pre-charged battery? Will she be violating the Sabbath ban on electricity?

We Reform Jews would not bat an eyelash at these things, we would say come however you are able, but in the Orthodox community you cannot simply ignore Halakhah.

Yet, too often we do place stumbling blocks and put forth insults because we are not conscious of the needs of those around us. We simply are unaware that we offend, cause discomfort, or even harm. Our access doors and aisles are not wide enough, our thresholds too high. Our ramps too steep or too narrow. Our texts too small. Our amplification too low. Our patience too short.

As a congregation, we have tried in recent years to be more accommodating, but our building is hardly completely accessible. Staff offices and meeting rooms are on different levels without an elevator and the most easily accessible doors are not opened by our buzzer, but require someone to physically unlock them. Our building renovation project will to no small extent address this sort of access issue.

Our Tradition teaches us that people who are disabled can do wonderful things, not only for themselves, but for our people. Someone who is impaired of speech can even speak as God’s own mouthpiece.

And Moses said unto Adonai: “Adonai, I am not a man of words, either in the past, nor now, since you have spoken unto Your servant; for I am slow of speech, and of a slow tongue.” (Exodus 4:10)

After Moses questioned God about his difficulties with speech, God responded.

“And God said to Moses: Who gives man speech? Who makes him mute or deaf, seeing or blind?” (Exodus 4:11)

The answer in the Book of Exodus is God. Yet my friends, we are God’s instruments. Let us do our best to help improve the lives of all of those affected by disabilities.

Kein yehi ratson! May it be God’s will!