Here are a few of my selected Sermons, D'vrei Torah, and Editorials.
How We Speak to Our Children about Death - 1/17/2013
Good Evening and Good Shabbos. Tonight, I want to address an issue that may be in the forefront of many of our minds. In the past seven months of my rabbinate – the first seven months of my rabbinate – I have had to bury almost a minyon. In seven months, I have had to bury almost 10 people. Each time, as I sat down to reflect on the deceased to make sure I gave the proper respect to each of them, I concentrated as hard as I could on the positive. I have refused to consider the how and why of these deaths…for as Rabbi Lebow expressed so eloquently, there is no WHY and there is no BECAUSE! However, what I have been thinking about this week are our children. I have spent more time this week focusing on one important issue, the issue I choose to address this evening: What do we tell our children when death, devastation and catastrophe happen?
I have thought about, listened to, and researched this topic. I am not sure I have the one correct answer. However, I do believe I can offer some thoughts and some insight into this challenging issue. As I sat down to think about what to write for this sermon, I decided to create a list of questions that I would want to focus on.
Let me just name the elephant in the room. I believe that is the most appropriate place for us to begin. Our congregation has spent a lot of time recently in pain for a variety of reasons. Let me make something clear – I wrote this sermon because of several events, not just because of the events of this past week. It is vital, however, to stress that this sermon was guided by an extremely deep pain that I and so many in our congregation are feeling. It is not as if I decided to pour my heart out…it is because I believe that one of the key struggles for our congregation right now is: how do we speak to our children about this? Should we shield or shelter our children from the reality of our lives that sometimes is much darker than we would prefer? Or, should we allow our children to be aware of the many causes of our pain, allowing them to deal with and struggle with these causes in their own way?
As I mentioned earlier, I do not purport to have all of the answers. However, I can offer some of my own thoughts as well as the thoughts of scholars, teachers and others in our communities. The first source I turned to was A Practical Guide to Rabbinic Counseling, edited by Yisrael N. Levitz, PH.D. And Abraham J. Twerski, M.D. In Chapter 11, David Pelcovitz, Ph.D. writes, “The Chinese word characters for ‘crisis’ consist of two symbols: danger and opportunity. Parents looking for guidance from their rabbi on how to help their children during a time of instability are understandably concerned about the physical and emotional risks that their children are facing.”[i] Dr. Pelcovitz goes on further to explain that “during the early elementary school years (ages 5-9), children view death as something that can happen, but not to them.”[ii]
Dr. Pelcovitz acknowledges that young children are not necessarily able to truly understand what “death” means, but that it is something that happens, just not to them. I am reminded of a conversation I had with Batya recently after the loss of a young person. When Carlie asked Batya what happened, Batya responded, “He died.” Carlie asked, “How?” Batya then responded, “He hurt himself.” Carlie’s response, “That wasn’t very smart,” showed her ability to understand the severity of what happened. However, I have wondered since then if our response to Carlie was appropriate. I do understand that every parent has to come to their own conclusions regarding what they tell their children. But, when major events happen in our communities, should we not explain exactly what happened?
J. William Worden presents three views. The first view, expressed by Martha Wolfenstein in 1966, says “that children cannot mourn until there is a complete identity formation, which occurs at the end of adolescence, when the person is fully differentiated.”[iii] Another, different view, expressed by Erna Furman in 1974, says “that children can mourn as early as 3 years of age…”[iv] Worden’s view however, suggests “that children do mourn and what is needed is a model of mourning that fits children rather than the imposition of an adult model on children.”[v] We could look at study after study and I am sure that we would find even more conflicting results. What does this tell us? I believe it suggests that there is NO one right way of approaching these issues. When catastrophes occur, organizations come together and make decisions about what to do next. Sometimes, unfortunately, though, the decision that is made is the “best of the worst.” Ultimately, communities must bond together and work together to ensure everyone in their community has the opportunity to mourn or respond how they are most comfortable…and we must always be surrounded by those that love and care for us – that is a MUST!
I would like to present one more perspective. Rabbi Earl A. Grollman, in How to Explain Death to Children, writes, “Remember that children are more aware of death than you may realize. That inevitable moment when life no longer exists confronts them at an early age: a pet is killed, a funeral procession passes by…Killings are shown daily in vivid color on television. Remember too, however, that although your children may be familiar with the words ‘dead’ and ‘died,’ they may not comprehend their meaning in the same way that you do.”[vi] According to Rabbi Grollman, there is no right or proper way. “What is said is significant, but how it is said will have a greater bearing on whether your youngsters develop unnecessary fears or will be able to accept, within their abilities, the reality of death.”[vii]
So, we find ourselves in the same place we started. There is no one right way…however, what is clear is that we must speak to our children of the realities of life and death. Having these conversations, using words that will be easy to understand and in safe places, will enable our children to cope however they are able. If we do not give them the chance to mourn or cope, or, perhaps, the chance to learn how to mourn and cope, we might be causing more damage. Over the past 7 months here at TKE, my thoughts and approaches to raising my own daughter have changed. Maybe it is the constant grip that reality holds on me. Or, maybe I am realizing that when we are part of a community, we are going to have our crises…as well as our simchot.
Dear friends, this week has been long and difficult. We now find ourselves in the midst of Shabbat. Let us bask in the glory and sanctity of Shabbat. Let us take some time to reflect and think about those in our lives who are of the most importance. Please, please, please embrace them, tell them you love them. And, most importantly, know that each and every one of you is of extreme importance in my life (and in the life of my family).
Shabbat Shalom.
[i] A Practical Guide to Rabbinic Counseling, Feldheim Publishers, pg. 179
[ii] Ibid. pg. 181
[iii] Grief Counseling and Grief Therapy, Springer Publishing Company, pg. 230
[iv] Ibid. pg. 230
[v] Ibid. pg. 231
[vi] How to Explain Death to Children, The Jewish Funeral Directors of America, INC., pg. 2
[vii] Ibid. pg. 5
Good Evening and Good Shabbos. Tonight, I want to address an issue that may be in the forefront of many of our minds. In the past seven months of my rabbinate – the first seven months of my rabbinate – I have had to bury almost a minyon. In seven months, I have had to bury almost 10 people. Each time, as I sat down to reflect on the deceased to make sure I gave the proper respect to each of them, I concentrated as hard as I could on the positive. I have refused to consider the how and why of these deaths…for as Rabbi Lebow expressed so eloquently, there is no WHY and there is no BECAUSE! However, what I have been thinking about this week are our children. I have spent more time this week focusing on one important issue, the issue I choose to address this evening: What do we tell our children when death, devastation and catastrophe happen?
I have thought about, listened to, and researched this topic. I am not sure I have the one correct answer. However, I do believe I can offer some thoughts and some insight into this challenging issue. As I sat down to think about what to write for this sermon, I decided to create a list of questions that I would want to focus on.
Let me just name the elephant in the room. I believe that is the most appropriate place for us to begin. Our congregation has spent a lot of time recently in pain for a variety of reasons. Let me make something clear – I wrote this sermon because of several events, not just because of the events of this past week. It is vital, however, to stress that this sermon was guided by an extremely deep pain that I and so many in our congregation are feeling. It is not as if I decided to pour my heart out…it is because I believe that one of the key struggles for our congregation right now is: how do we speak to our children about this? Should we shield or shelter our children from the reality of our lives that sometimes is much darker than we would prefer? Or, should we allow our children to be aware of the many causes of our pain, allowing them to deal with and struggle with these causes in their own way?
As I mentioned earlier, I do not purport to have all of the answers. However, I can offer some of my own thoughts as well as the thoughts of scholars, teachers and others in our communities. The first source I turned to was A Practical Guide to Rabbinic Counseling, edited by Yisrael N. Levitz, PH.D. And Abraham J. Twerski, M.D. In Chapter 11, David Pelcovitz, Ph.D. writes, “The Chinese word characters for ‘crisis’ consist of two symbols: danger and opportunity. Parents looking for guidance from their rabbi on how to help their children during a time of instability are understandably concerned about the physical and emotional risks that their children are facing.”[i] Dr. Pelcovitz goes on further to explain that “during the early elementary school years (ages 5-9), children view death as something that can happen, but not to them.”[ii]
Dr. Pelcovitz acknowledges that young children are not necessarily able to truly understand what “death” means, but that it is something that happens, just not to them. I am reminded of a conversation I had with Batya recently after the loss of a young person. When Carlie asked Batya what happened, Batya responded, “He died.” Carlie asked, “How?” Batya then responded, “He hurt himself.” Carlie’s response, “That wasn’t very smart,” showed her ability to understand the severity of what happened. However, I have wondered since then if our response to Carlie was appropriate. I do understand that every parent has to come to their own conclusions regarding what they tell their children. But, when major events happen in our communities, should we not explain exactly what happened?
J. William Worden presents three views. The first view, expressed by Martha Wolfenstein in 1966, says “that children cannot mourn until there is a complete identity formation, which occurs at the end of adolescence, when the person is fully differentiated.”[iii] Another, different view, expressed by Erna Furman in 1974, says “that children can mourn as early as 3 years of age…”[iv] Worden’s view however, suggests “that children do mourn and what is needed is a model of mourning that fits children rather than the imposition of an adult model on children.”[v] We could look at study after study and I am sure that we would find even more conflicting results. What does this tell us? I believe it suggests that there is NO one right way of approaching these issues. When catastrophes occur, organizations come together and make decisions about what to do next. Sometimes, unfortunately, though, the decision that is made is the “best of the worst.” Ultimately, communities must bond together and work together to ensure everyone in their community has the opportunity to mourn or respond how they are most comfortable…and we must always be surrounded by those that love and care for us – that is a MUST!
I would like to present one more perspective. Rabbi Earl A. Grollman, in How to Explain Death to Children, writes, “Remember that children are more aware of death than you may realize. That inevitable moment when life no longer exists confronts them at an early age: a pet is killed, a funeral procession passes by…Killings are shown daily in vivid color on television. Remember too, however, that although your children may be familiar with the words ‘dead’ and ‘died,’ they may not comprehend their meaning in the same way that you do.”[vi] According to Rabbi Grollman, there is no right or proper way. “What is said is significant, but how it is said will have a greater bearing on whether your youngsters develop unnecessary fears or will be able to accept, within their abilities, the reality of death.”[vii]
So, we find ourselves in the same place we started. There is no one right way…however, what is clear is that we must speak to our children of the realities of life and death. Having these conversations, using words that will be easy to understand and in safe places, will enable our children to cope however they are able. If we do not give them the chance to mourn or cope, or, perhaps, the chance to learn how to mourn and cope, we might be causing more damage. Over the past 7 months here at TKE, my thoughts and approaches to raising my own daughter have changed. Maybe it is the constant grip that reality holds on me. Or, maybe I am realizing that when we are part of a community, we are going to have our crises…as well as our simchot.
Dear friends, this week has been long and difficult. We now find ourselves in the midst of Shabbat. Let us bask in the glory and sanctity of Shabbat. Let us take some time to reflect and think about those in our lives who are of the most importance. Please, please, please embrace them, tell them you love them. And, most importantly, know that each and every one of you is of extreme importance in my life (and in the life of my family).
Shabbat Shalom.
[i] A Practical Guide to Rabbinic Counseling, Feldheim Publishers, pg. 179
[ii] Ibid. pg. 181
[iii] Grief Counseling and Grief Therapy, Springer Publishing Company, pg. 230
[iv] Ibid. pg. 230
[v] Ibid. pg. 231
[vi] How to Explain Death to Children, The Jewish Funeral Directors of America, INC., pg. 2
[vii] Ibid. pg. 5
V’ahavtah L’reacha Kamocha and Lashon Hara
“ואהבת לרעך כמוך”
These words from Leviticus 19:18, “Love your neighbor as yourself,” have tremendous meaning for Jews today. When we open up the newspaper or watch the news, we are faced with many opportunities to live these words. Organizations such as the American Jewish World Service, the Susan G. Komen Foundation and the One Campaign present us with stories of people who are in need of our help and support. We open up our wallets and donate willingly to these causes; yet, the answer is not in the act of giving, it is in the understanding of why we are giving and the value in helping those who are in need.
These organizations open up our eyes to the larger global world we live in. However, we only need to look to our left and right for ways to live out these important words from Leviticus. Very early on in our lives, we are told “Do unto other as you would have them do unto you.” As young children, we may not really understand what this “golden rule” means, but as we get older, we may come face to face with gossip or slander. Maybe a rumor was started about you or about someone you care about. All it takes is for one person to start a rumor for gossip to occur. In Judaism, we refer to לשון הרע, the evil tongue.
So, what is lashon hara? What does it mean to be considered a ba’al lashon hara? (bearer of the evil tongue) According to the Chofetz Chaim, Yisrael Meir (Kagan) Poupko, a very influential eastern European rabbi of the 18th and 19th centuries, a ba’al lashon hara is a person “who becomes accustomed to violating the very serious prohibition against speaking ill of others.”[1] According to the Sages, our beloved great Rabbis of the past, lashon hara kills three parties: the speaker, the listener and the one spoken about. Our Rabbis are making a very important point: Gossip is bad for anyone who is a part of it.
The Chofetz Chaim outlines the ten categories of forbidden speech: evil speech, tale-bearing, falsehood, flattery, mockery, oppressive speech, shaming others, expressions of conceit, controversy and expressions of anger.[2] The first category, evil speech, is what we refer to as lashon hara. However, each of the other nine categories are equally important to consider. What may stand out in the list is the category of flattery. After all, when we flatter someone we usually have the best of intentions. According to the Chofetz Chaim, “the halakhic definition of chanufah (flattery) is ‘minimizing another’s iniquities in his presence.’”[3] In a discussion recently with one of my colleagues, I learned that even giving flattery to someone “behind their back” is considered to be lashon hara. The explanation is that you are putting higher expectations on someone who may not be able to attain those expectations later on.
In Jewish Living: A Guide to Contemporary Reform Practice, Rabbi Mark Washofsky teaches about the effects of lashon hara in a variety of settings. “The Rabbis have long condemned the practice of gossip and slander in no uncertain terms, to the point that the impurity of slander is compared to that of leprosy and that the sin of lashon hara is said to be equivalent to the sins of idolatry, sexual immorality, and murder combined.”[4] Life is so important and so valued in Judaism that it is stated that to kill one life is as if you killed the world. When one participates in the act of lashon hara, they are killing all of those involved. The serious nature of this act is duly noted time and time again by our Rabbis. Although it may be impossible to eradicate gossip from the world, we should take every step we can to prevent ourselves and everyone around us from participating in gossip or slander.
[1] Cohen, Israel Meir, Gavriel Rubin, and Esther Chachamzedek. 2004. Day by day: readings for the soul from the Chofetz Chaim : collected from his writings. Jerusalem: Machon Bais Yechiel. Volume 1, pg. 10-11.
[2] Ibid, pg. 3
[3] Ibid, pg. 5
[4] Washofsky, Mark. 2010. Jewish living: a guide to contemporary Reform practice. New York: URJ Press, pg. 306.
“ואהבת לרעך כמוך”
These words from Leviticus 19:18, “Love your neighbor as yourself,” have tremendous meaning for Jews today. When we open up the newspaper or watch the news, we are faced with many opportunities to live these words. Organizations such as the American Jewish World Service, the Susan G. Komen Foundation and the One Campaign present us with stories of people who are in need of our help and support. We open up our wallets and donate willingly to these causes; yet, the answer is not in the act of giving, it is in the understanding of why we are giving and the value in helping those who are in need.
These organizations open up our eyes to the larger global world we live in. However, we only need to look to our left and right for ways to live out these important words from Leviticus. Very early on in our lives, we are told “Do unto other as you would have them do unto you.” As young children, we may not really understand what this “golden rule” means, but as we get older, we may come face to face with gossip or slander. Maybe a rumor was started about you or about someone you care about. All it takes is for one person to start a rumor for gossip to occur. In Judaism, we refer to לשון הרע, the evil tongue.
So, what is lashon hara? What does it mean to be considered a ba’al lashon hara? (bearer of the evil tongue) According to the Chofetz Chaim, Yisrael Meir (Kagan) Poupko, a very influential eastern European rabbi of the 18th and 19th centuries, a ba’al lashon hara is a person “who becomes accustomed to violating the very serious prohibition against speaking ill of others.”[1] According to the Sages, our beloved great Rabbis of the past, lashon hara kills three parties: the speaker, the listener and the one spoken about. Our Rabbis are making a very important point: Gossip is bad for anyone who is a part of it.
The Chofetz Chaim outlines the ten categories of forbidden speech: evil speech, tale-bearing, falsehood, flattery, mockery, oppressive speech, shaming others, expressions of conceit, controversy and expressions of anger.[2] The first category, evil speech, is what we refer to as lashon hara. However, each of the other nine categories are equally important to consider. What may stand out in the list is the category of flattery. After all, when we flatter someone we usually have the best of intentions. According to the Chofetz Chaim, “the halakhic definition of chanufah (flattery) is ‘minimizing another’s iniquities in his presence.’”[3] In a discussion recently with one of my colleagues, I learned that even giving flattery to someone “behind their back” is considered to be lashon hara. The explanation is that you are putting higher expectations on someone who may not be able to attain those expectations later on.
In Jewish Living: A Guide to Contemporary Reform Practice, Rabbi Mark Washofsky teaches about the effects of lashon hara in a variety of settings. “The Rabbis have long condemned the practice of gossip and slander in no uncertain terms, to the point that the impurity of slander is compared to that of leprosy and that the sin of lashon hara is said to be equivalent to the sins of idolatry, sexual immorality, and murder combined.”[4] Life is so important and so valued in Judaism that it is stated that to kill one life is as if you killed the world. When one participates in the act of lashon hara, they are killing all of those involved. The serious nature of this act is duly noted time and time again by our Rabbis. Although it may be impossible to eradicate gossip from the world, we should take every step we can to prevent ourselves and everyone around us from participating in gossip or slander.
[1] Cohen, Israel Meir, Gavriel Rubin, and Esther Chachamzedek. 2004. Day by day: readings for the soul from the Chofetz Chaim : collected from his writings. Jerusalem: Machon Bais Yechiel. Volume 1, pg. 10-11.
[2] Ibid, pg. 3
[3] Ibid, pg. 5
[4] Washofsky, Mark. 2010. Jewish living: a guide to contemporary Reform practice. New York: URJ Press, pg. 306.
“Selma” and the Jews
**Appeared in the Atlanta Jewish Times on January 30, 2015
On Monday, January 19, Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, I invited my 9th grade students to join me as we watched “Selma,” the recent movie directed by Oprah Winfrey. My 9th grade class curriculum focuses on the history of Reform Judaism, specifically focusing on growing up as a Jew in the South. Prior to our trip to Selma, Alabama, in March, we will be spending some time at The Temple on Peachtree Street learning about and discussing the role the Atlanta Jewish community played in the Civil Rights movement of the mid 20th century. Of course, with the release of “Selma,” I believed this to be a great introduction for my students.
Having recently read “What Selma Means to the Jews” by Dr. Susannah Heschel, I was keenly aware of some of the criticism that has been given to “Selma.” The criticism specified in Dr. Heschel’s Op-Ed seems to focus on a few key points. In the first paragraph, Dr. Heschel writes, “Regrettably, the film represents the march as many see it today, only as an act of political protest.” Yes, it is true – the film does focus on the politics of the Civil Rights Movement. However, there is also a special focus on Dr. King’s invitation to clergy nationwide to join him in Selma. The movie’s emphasis on this invitation is significant. As a matter of fact, the brutal murder of one of these ministers happens to be one of the most difficult and tense scenes in the entire movie. In my opinion, the most spiritually uplifting scene in the movie occurs when Dr. King knelt down to pray and then turned around and walked the other direction, back from where he came.
As a rabbi, I have always appreciated Dr. King’s comparison of the march from Selma to the Exodus of the Jews out of Egypt. Dr. Heschel writes about this as well in her Op-Ed: “Not only were the Israelites leaving Egypt, the place of enslavement, but also the Egyptians, because there was a hope at Selma that white America was repudiating its racism.” It is true that we still have a long way to go in this country in order to finish the “Exodus from Selma.” However, the march was a great step and a foundational moment in our history. This cannot be ignored, just as any first step in achieving the prophetic vision of total justice for all peoples.
The most significant criticism of “Selma” was that there was not more of a focus on the relationship between Dr. King and Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel. Dr. King and Rabbi Heschel had a very special relationship. The very famous picture of Rabbi Heschel walking alongside Dr. King, Ralph Bunche, Rep. John Lewis, Rev. Fred Shuttleworth and Rev. C.T. Vivian is one of the most well known artifacts from the Civil Rights period. While the picture represents a future filled with hope, one in which justice can be achieved, the focus of “Selma” was on the struggle of African Americans and the eventual outcome.
As a rabbi in the South, I understand completely the significance of the shared history of Blacks and Jews. When I walked out of the movie theater, I was not upset or frustrated that there was not more of a focus on the Jewish community and their role. I was not upset that a particular person or group was not included. I was inspired, not only by the actors and the roles they played, but also by the message from 50 years ago that still applies today.
“…Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream” (Amos 5:21-24)
**Appeared in the Atlanta Jewish Times on January 30, 2015
On Monday, January 19, Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, I invited my 9th grade students to join me as we watched “Selma,” the recent movie directed by Oprah Winfrey. My 9th grade class curriculum focuses on the history of Reform Judaism, specifically focusing on growing up as a Jew in the South. Prior to our trip to Selma, Alabama, in March, we will be spending some time at The Temple on Peachtree Street learning about and discussing the role the Atlanta Jewish community played in the Civil Rights movement of the mid 20th century. Of course, with the release of “Selma,” I believed this to be a great introduction for my students.
Having recently read “What Selma Means to the Jews” by Dr. Susannah Heschel, I was keenly aware of some of the criticism that has been given to “Selma.” The criticism specified in Dr. Heschel’s Op-Ed seems to focus on a few key points. In the first paragraph, Dr. Heschel writes, “Regrettably, the film represents the march as many see it today, only as an act of political protest.” Yes, it is true – the film does focus on the politics of the Civil Rights Movement. However, there is also a special focus on Dr. King’s invitation to clergy nationwide to join him in Selma. The movie’s emphasis on this invitation is significant. As a matter of fact, the brutal murder of one of these ministers happens to be one of the most difficult and tense scenes in the entire movie. In my opinion, the most spiritually uplifting scene in the movie occurs when Dr. King knelt down to pray and then turned around and walked the other direction, back from where he came.
As a rabbi, I have always appreciated Dr. King’s comparison of the march from Selma to the Exodus of the Jews out of Egypt. Dr. Heschel writes about this as well in her Op-Ed: “Not only were the Israelites leaving Egypt, the place of enslavement, but also the Egyptians, because there was a hope at Selma that white America was repudiating its racism.” It is true that we still have a long way to go in this country in order to finish the “Exodus from Selma.” However, the march was a great step and a foundational moment in our history. This cannot be ignored, just as any first step in achieving the prophetic vision of total justice for all peoples.
The most significant criticism of “Selma” was that there was not more of a focus on the relationship between Dr. King and Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel. Dr. King and Rabbi Heschel had a very special relationship. The very famous picture of Rabbi Heschel walking alongside Dr. King, Ralph Bunche, Rep. John Lewis, Rev. Fred Shuttleworth and Rev. C.T. Vivian is one of the most well known artifacts from the Civil Rights period. While the picture represents a future filled with hope, one in which justice can be achieved, the focus of “Selma” was on the struggle of African Americans and the eventual outcome.
As a rabbi in the South, I understand completely the significance of the shared history of Blacks and Jews. When I walked out of the movie theater, I was not upset or frustrated that there was not more of a focus on the Jewish community and their role. I was not upset that a particular person or group was not included. I was inspired, not only by the actors and the roles they played, but also by the message from 50 years ago that still applies today.
“…Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream” (Amos 5:21-24)