Image: Two jack o’lanterns grinning in the dark. (fotomek/pixabay)
There’s a big bag of candy in my refrigerator, so it must be the week of Halloween.
Before I was Jewish, Halloween was one of my favorite holidays. I loved wearing a costume, and I loved handing out candy at the door. After I became a Jew in my 40’s, it took me a while to sort out what I was going to do with Halloween.
My thoughts went like this:
I love Halloween! I am not going to give it up!
Halloween has its roots in both pagan practice and Catholic practice – it’s not for Jews.
— But I love Halloween!
Halloween is a holiday when we basically license people to do mischief – not very Jewish!
— But I love Halloween!
We have Purim for costumes, without the whole “trick or treat” protection racket.
— But I love Halloween!
… and so on.
I had no problem whatsoever letting go of Christmas, partly because it carried some bad memories, and partly because the religious aspect of it was quite real to me. Halloween was a lot harder to give up, because I had a lot of great Halloween memories, both as a child and as an adult, and its religious content was not as immediate to my experience.
However, I could not escape a simple fact:It isn’t a Jewish holiday, and there are things about it that are simply not right from a Jewish point of view.
After a lot of years of study and thought, I decided to celebrate Halloween as a time for hospitality. I don’t dress up. I don’t decorate. However, the kids who come to my door know that they can depend on me for some really high-quality candy – stuff that they like, or can trade to others for things they like more. And I let my non-Jewish friends know that they are welcome to bring their children by for a safe treat. I admire their costumes, I hand out the goodies, and it’s a day of goodwill all around.
But come Purim – look out! You never know what crazy thing I’ll wear!
A little over a week ago we said the Unetaneh Tokef prayer, “Who by water and who by fire,” expressing the fact that we simply do not know what the future will bring each person. And since then, we have seen so many bad things: the aftermath of hurricane and floods in Texas, Florida, and Puerto Rico, and the fires in the West, especially in Northern California this week.
The news from Washington is deeply upsetting to many of us. Who would have thought we’d see a President of the United States have a name-calling match on Twitter with one of the leaders of his own party? Who would have thought we’d see a name-calling game of nuclear chicken play out on Twitter between heads of state?
I have not posted for a week. Some of that was a bad back, but most of it was depression. As I’ve said before, I’m prone to it. It simply had to be lived through.
I did all I know to do, which was to pay attention, do mitzvot whenever I could, and try not to beat myself up. The fog has lifted a bit, and I know something: I must balance my attention. I must pay enough attention to what’s bad in the world to actively do battle with it. I must pay enough attention to the goodness in the world, especially to the goodness in other people, to maintain my soul.
One mitzvah leads to another. – Pirkei Avot, 4.2.
I watched on social media as neighbors leaped to each other’s aid here in California. A woman I know who is unemployed put the call out on Facebook that she was looking for a way to help. People in the Jewish community opened their guest rooms and couches. Friends opened Go-Fund-Me pages for households who lost everything. A friend of mine found transport out of harm’s way for a bunch of horses.
Firefighters and first responders risked their lives to get people to safety. Reporters, too, risked life and limb to keep us informed, those of us who were desperate for news. I am a long way from the wine country, but I will never forget the Oakland Hills Firestorm; I woke up dreaming about it before I knew about the new fires up north.
It has comforted me to see people responding to other people. It strengthened me when I contacted one woman about fire aid. I mentioned that I couldn’t drive due to my back, but I’d buy gas for someone else, whereupon she immediately asked if I needed help or shopping. Her offer warmed me like chicken soup.
Never forget, in these awful times, that one of the most powerful tools at our disposal is human kindness. In Hebrew, it’s the virtue of Chesed (KHEH – sed.) Our small acts of kindness – not “thoughts and prayers” but actual kindness, listening quietly, respecting difference, offering food, offering shelter, offering what we can – those things serve to strengthen the person on the receiving end and the giver as well. If someone gives me some – wonderful! If not, I can still give it to others and receive the benefit: a miracle!
We have many of us grown cranky since last November: it is HARD making phone call after phone call, writing little postcards, while worrying that North Korea might actually know how to get a bomb to our neighborhood. It is exhausting watching a bully in the Oval Office, watching him abuse his staff, insult veterans, and encourage white supremacists. So we get irritable. We feel tired. Some of us get depressed.
This week I re-learned the advice of Mr. Rogers’ mother:
When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” To this day, especially in times of “disaster,” I remember my mother’s words and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers – so many caring people in this world. – Fred Rogers
So, look for the caring people. BE one of the caring people – not caring about Humanity at Large but caring about the human being right in front of you, the one who is tired or thirsty or who needs a friend. As the liturgy and Masechet Peah of the Jerusalem Talmudtell us:
These are things that a person eats from their fruits in this world, and the foundation exists for the next world, honoring one’s father and mother and doing good deeds and bringing peace between one person and his friends. And Torah study is greater than all of them. – Peah, 1a, Jerushalmi
Image: Members of the Temple Sinai Community write messages of love and New Year’s wishes on paper covering anti-Semitic graffiti. (Photo by Rabbi Ruth Adar)
How was your Rosh Hashanah?
Linda and I watched services at our congregation online for Erev Rosh Hashanah. I knew from experience that the seats would not work well for me, and we had an aliyah to the Torah the next morning. I love the flexibility that the online service gives us for managing such things.
The next morning, I woke to an email from the staff, titled: “Graffiti on our building”:
Shanah Tovah.
We received a call early this morning that someone wrote anti-Semitic slurs on the side of our building. The police have been contacted and we will have security on the premise. The graffiti will be covered when everyone arrives for services this morning.
While this is surely upsetting, this will not define our experience of coming together as a community today. Our strength and resilience will sound through our voices in song and prayer.
The graffiti will be covered with paper. We invite members of the community to write words of love and friendship as guiding lights for the coming year.
May this be the year that peace comes to our world.
Whoa! Not what we wanted for the new year, that’s for sure. Still, I marveled at the creativity of the solution. Instead of allowing the graffiti to stay visible, Rabbi Jacqueline Mates-Muchin chose to cover it with paper and then encouraged us to cover it with blessings.
This response was possible in a Reform setting. Cutting paper, hanging paper, and writing would all be problematic in a halakhic setting, but it certainly was a satisfying way for us to “talk back” to the person or persons who had done this. It also gave us a chance to model before our city that we choose love over hate.
Our responses included everything from “Shalom!” in a heart to “Go A’s!” (the local baseball team.) During services, painters came to cover the graffiti, and staff moved the paper indoors to the meeting hall. We painted over the bad and kept the good.
In case you are wondering what was written on the wall: it was ugly, it was obscene, and it was baldly anti-Semitic. Those words were written with the intent of terrifying us, of spoiling our joy in the New Year. We are choosing as a community not to focus on them, not to hold them up, because to do so would be a reward to the person who wrote them. Law enforcement knows what the words said, and an investigation is underway.
I’m happy to report that the police came immediately and stayed watching over us all day. the mayor showed up to support us, and local TV stations broadcast interviews with congregants. We felt loved by the city of Oakland. We did our best, with our graffiti, to love her back.
I teared up multiple times during the service, thinking how many times Jews have said those exact prayers after something dreadful happened. We aren’t the first Jews to pray in a vandalized building. We won’t be the last, alas.
Also, I was aware of the fact that not every religious group gets this treatment. In Charlottesville, the police department rebuffed the Jews who asked for help during the demonstrations this summer. I know that many African Americans have reason to be concerned by a police presence. I know that mosques in the United States face graffiti and much worse on a regular basis.
We are a long way from the ideal still, but I hope for the day when, in the words of President George Washington:
May the children of the stock of Abraham who dwell in this land continue to merit and enjoy the good will of the other inhabitants—while every one shall sit in safety under his own vine and fig tree and there shall be none to make him afraid.
May the father of all mercies scatter light, and not darkness, upon our paths, and make us all in our several vocations useful here, and in His own due time and way everlastingly happy. – Washington’s Letter to the Jews of Newport, August, 1790
Washington’s words carry some irony, of course. The enslaved persons on his plantation and elsewhere in the new nation could not “sit in safety” and many of them were “of the stock of Abraham.” Still it is my hope and prayer that just as those words are more true now than they were in 1790, the day will come when they are indeed accomplished.
May the day of peace for all those “of the stock of Abraham” (Jew and Muslim, and spiritually, Christians as well) and for all of every faith community come speedily and soon. Amen.
Messages from the Jews of Oakland (Photo by Rabbi Ruth Adar)
Image: One very unhappy skunk. Photo by Rabbi Ruth Adar. “Beit Adar” means “The house of Adar.”
I woke this morning to the sound of three poodles barking. They were going absolutely bananas – something was wrong. I got my cane and went out back to investigate.
To my horror, the three of them were gathered around a skunk. I waded in and hollered “Leave it!” and when that didn’t work on one of them, used my cane to push her away. I locked the dogs in the house, much to their annoyance.
It seemed odd that the skunk had been sitting still for all the barking until I saw that she was stuck in a hole in the old wire fence. She had apparently used up her spray earlier, probably during the night, because I couldn’t get more than a slight whiff of the odor. She seemed exhausted.
(No, I do not know the gender of the skunk. I’m assuming, and perhaps projecting.)
I called Animal Control. The police department picked up, and they informed me that (1) Animal Control had been budget-cut out of existence and (2) I should call a pest control company. I called a couple of pest control companies, and they “don’t do skunks.” Slightly relieved (exterminators?!) I texted friends and family looking for suggestions.
My friend Jake texted me and said he was coming over. He threw a cloth over the skunk’s head and nipped the wires holding her. She backed out and headed down the hill. Now he’s out mending the fence for me.
So why put this on the blog? A couple of Jewish values came into play here.
Chesed – kindness. Jake was kind to come over and help me. There was a time when I might have gone out there and cut the skunk free myself, but I am no longer able to do that sort of thing. He took time out of his day to help.
Tza’ar ba’alei chayim is a negative commandment. We are commanded not to be unnecessarily cruel to animals. I did not let the dogs torment the skunk, even after I knew that she was unlikely to spray them. Jake was as gentle as he could be to the creature. Leaving her caught in the fence would have been wrong. Killing her would also have been wrong, unless there was no way to free her.
Torah is not just about “spiritual” matters. In fact, within Torah there is no distinction between spiritual things and other things. Torah applies to all of life, even to a little skunk stuck in a fence.
As you may recall, on August 22 I went with a bunch of other people to Sacramento, CA for Reform CA Lobby Day. Here’s the summary I wrote for the Religious Action Center, and which appeared today on their blog under the titleCan politics be a holy activity?
Tuesday, August 22, 2017 was Reform CA Lobby Day, a project of the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism. 100 social justice activists and organizers from Reform congregations all over California converged on the state capitol to advocate for justice in our state. We had four goals:
To connect with one another and Reform CA
To present ourselves powerfully to President Pro Tempore of the California State Senate, Kevin de León
To train in lobbying and political action, first by learning and then by doing
To help pass our two priority bills:
California Values Act (SB 54), which prevents the use of California state and local public resources to aid federal Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE)
Money Bail Reform Act (SB-10), which ensures that people are not held in pretrial detention (jail) simply because of their inability to pay bail. This bill would require that a pretrial services agency conduct a risk assessment and prepare a report that makes recommendations on conditions of release for the accused pretrial. …
If you are a Reform Jew and you live in California, I totally recommend working with Reform CA. I’ve learned how to visit my representatives’ local offices with a group, I’ve learned how to make a 10 minute meeting count, and I’ve had the satisfaction of working with others on issues that matter to me. I am so glad I have learned how to do these things! Here’s how you can participate:
If you are a member of a Reform congregation in California, call the head of your social action committee and ask them about Reform CA.
If you are not a member of a Reform congregation, consider joining! This is the sort of thing congregational life makes possible.
If you want more info, you can read about it on the Religious Action Center (RAC) website and ask more questions there. The RAC offers information, support, and tools for Jews and allies who want to pursue justice via political action.
And now, to the coda of this adventure. I took the train to and from Sacramento. I used Lyft to get around. Somewhere in my travels (I am pretty sure I know when) I hurt my back badly, and I’m still getting over it. That’s why this blog has been so quiet of late. I will post more as I’m able to sit and do so.
With all the trouble and pain, I am still glad I went. I have felt so frustrated about the things I see going on in government, and this gave me an opportunity to take effective action. I plan to write lots more about that, and soon.
Image: In normally cool and foggy San Francisco, temperatures reached 106 degrees Friday afternoon, smashing records all the way back to 1874 when they began keeping records. In this photo of a bicyclist near Sausalito, the San Francisco skyline, normally visible, is obscured by smog from the fires burning in Northern California and the Sierras. (AP Photo/Eric Risberg)
“Look at God’s work – for who can straighten what He has twisted?” (Ecclesiastes 7:13). When the Blessed Holy One created the first human, He took him and led him round all the trees of the Garden of Eden and said to him: “Look at My works, how beautiful and praiseworthy they are! And all that I have created, it was for you that I created it. Pay attention that you do not corrupt and destroy My world: if you corrupt it, there is no one to repair it after you. – Midrash Kohelet Rabbah, 7:13
I live in a neighborhood above the San Francisco Bay that is known for its mild weather. In a bitter winter, we might see freezing temperatures once or twice. In the warm months, we all begin to whine if the temperature exceeds 80°F (26.6C.)
This summer has been different. A stretch of days around 100°F killed several California native plants in my garden. Yesterday and today we had the sort of heat I associate with Death Valley. The high today was 111°F, or 43.8°C.
The dogs and I decamped at 105° and went to stay with a friend who has air conditioning. I have been monitoring the temp at home remotely with horror. My garden is the least of it; this sort of heat can be lethal for people and animals and most people in this area lack A/C.
Meanwhile I’ve kept track of the slow unfolding of stories from Hurricane Harvey and the flooding in South Asia. A tropical storm is battering Baja California, and more hurricanes are forming in the Atlantic.
Also in the news and on the air: firefighters are battling dozens of fires in Northern California and some people in Southern California are packing to evacuate as fires threaten the suburbs north of L.A. The same east wind bringing burning winds to my neighborhood carries with it the smoke from fires in the Sierra. Usually I can see San Francisco from my patio; today I can’t see San Leandro High, less than a mile away. Our air is gritty, nasty, and dangerous to asthmatics.
I might be forgiven, then, for a somewhat apocalyptic mood as this past Shabbat drew to a close. I know there is controversy about how much of the storms and heat can be traced to climate change. But I also know that some climate scientists warn us that these storms may be a new normal.
I refuse to accept that the damage is done, or that any connection to human activity is just politics. The Torah teaches that individually and communally, human beings are responsible for the preservation of the earth.
What can we do? This season of Elul, let us each look around our own lives for ways to be good stewards of the earth. Some possible questions:
What can I do personally to preserve the quality of air and water where I live?
Do I waste resources? What can I do to waste less?
Is there a way I can reuse or recycle things I have been putting in the garbage?
Are there ways I can partner with others to be a better steward of the earth?
Are there organizations that will provide me opportunities for action in the right direction?
Do I encourage local elected officials in their good programs, and let them know when I disapprove?
And finally:
★ Can I identify one single, specific change in behavior I am willing to commit to for the year 5778?
Wow! I just returned from a family trip to Southern California and found 42 replies to the questionnaire I posted day before yesterday. Thank you all for your answers; I will tally them as quickly as possible and get back to you with what I’ve learned.
Honestly, it was wonderful to take a day on the train and simply step aside from the news cycle. I rode the Coast Starlight and watched the scenery of California sliding by my window. I had no idea what shenanigans were going on in Washington. When I had cell service, I called a senator’s office and said, “PLEASE DON’T LEAVE PEOPLE WITHOUT HEALTH CARE!” and then returned to my reverie watching the world go by.
Trains are a lovely way to travel. They are slower than airplanes, and that slowness seems to translate to an increase in civility. I chatted with several people of various backgrounds and our conversations remained friendly. We were all interested in going somewhere but we weren’t in a hurry. Maybe that is the answer to something.
One thing I noticed was that while there are still economic differences on the train, they are not as wide as on airplanes. Everyone had somewhere reasonably comfortable to sit. No one was horribly crowded. The people in sleeper cars had prepaid for their meals, which came with some priority on meal signups. However, if people ate in the dining car, they sat at tables set for four. If your party had less than four people in it, you were guaranteed an opportunity to make new friends.
The dining car was not an option for me. I was in the “accessible sleeper” which allowed me to lie down (for my back issues) and do stretches while flying along at 60mph up the California coast. I could not ascend to the dining car, so my steward took my order and brought food to me. Since I don’t eat meat, I chose Kraft Mac’n’Cheese from the kids’ menu. They were out of the vegetarian dish for grown-ups, but I was fine with the mac and yellow stuff plus some salad.
I did have to think for a while about the blessing to say over food that I wasn’t sure was actually agricultural output. (What IS that yellow stuff? I am not convinced it is really cheese.) I finally settled on the blessing for snacks, which is also appropriate for a pasta meal in which there is no bread:
Image: Two fire engines at the fire at Alco Iron & Metal Co. in San Leandro, CA. (Photo by Alameda Co Fire Dept, via SFGate.com) Notice the thick smoke.
Love the stranger, for you yourselves were strangers in Egypt. – Deuteronomy 10:19
I participate in a local social media site called NextDoor.com. At its best, NextDoor is a way to share information and to make connections nearby, a rare and wonderful thing in this age of the World Wide Web. Like all social media, it has limitations, but it has great potential for good.
This past week I heard on the radio that there was a fire at a local salvage facility, Alco Iron & Metals. I was familiar with the business; I’d gone there a few times with my son, an artist who works in metals. I remembered it as a barely controlled chaos of all kinds of scrap metal and materials. A fire there had terrible potential.
I looked down the hill, and sure enough, a huge plume of smoke rose from the site. The wind was blowing south, not towards me. The radio warned local residents to shelter indoors and to keep pets inside, because the smoke was bad for people.
No kidding, I thought, thinking of the people downwind of the fire, choking on the burnt effluvia of the stuff I’d seen stacked at Alco. Most of it was metal, but metal is often painted or coated, or connected to plastic. Had I been downwind of that fire, I’d have flung my dogs in the car and gone seeking shelter away from the smoke.
A little later I checked in to the NextDoor site and saw that one of my neighbors had put out the welcome mat for anyone in the line of the smoke to come to her house to breathe clean air. I was dazzled by her hospitality – all she asked was for people to contact her privately and she’d send them her address!
I thought, “I should do that, too.” And then I hesitated. Thoughts flooded in: I did not know who might respond. I thought about all the times I have been warned against letting strangers in my home. I thought about the many times in Torah I am commanded to love the stranger.
I decided not to place a general invitation to my house. Instead, I thanked the other woman for her generosity.
I’m not happy with my response. This is not the person I strive to be.
I need to think through how I want to deal with people I don’t yet know in a time of trouble. I want to talk with the neighbor who opened her door. I want to think of more and better options for myself the next time something like this happens.
I know from my training that there are usually more than two possible responses to any situation. In this case, all I could think of was “open invitation” and “no open invitation.” I’m going to keep looking until I create a better menu for myself, so that when people are hurting nearby, I can respond more compassionately.
Have you ever faced a situation in which your desire to do the right thing and your fears were in conflict? How did you choose? How did you feel about your choice? In the aftermath, did you do any planning about future events?
Image: Directors Patty Jenkins and actors Gal Gadot, Chris Pine and Connie Neilsen talk about Wonder Woman at San Diego Comic Con, 2016 (Photo by Gage Skidmore.)
I’ve waited for this movie for 50 years.
When Linda and I sat down yesterday in the theater, I was wary. I’ve had my heart broken in movie theaters before. The first time I was nine, when Walt Disney tarted up Mary Poppins (1964) beyond all recognition, drenched her in sugar, and perverted P.L. Travers’ books. I felt I’d been robbed, and I left the theater sobbing.
I feel strongly about certain characters in literature.
So when there has been talk about a Wonder Woman film, I’ve perked up my ears, but I’ve not let myself hope too much. Hollywood has a way of messing up good stories, especially good stories with female protagonists. I was encouraged to hear that Patty Jenkins was directing; her writing and direction of Monster (2004) were miraculous.
I was even more encouraged when I heard that Gal Gadot had been cast as the lead. She is beautiful, she is strong, she can be very funny, and I liked the idea of the world hearing an Israeli accent in that role. A Jewish woman as a super hero? Oh, yeah!
I saw the poster and dared to hope.
As sexualized as the comic book figure was, as campy as the TV show, the image in the poster is that of a warrior. She is kneeling on a beach, at the edge of her world. The sun behind her is either rising or setting, with no clues as to which it is. Is she at the beginning of a journey, or recovering from battle? Is her grave expression sadness or something else?
I won’t spoil the film for you. I spent quite a bit of it in tears, watching a brave woman do terrifying things in defense of innocents. Some of those tears were that I was finally seeing the movie I’d wanted to see ever since I first found a Wonder Woman comic book discarded on a sidewalk in Nashville 50 years ago and recognized her as mine. Some of those tears were the tears of a graying feminist who finally got to see a great movie about a wonderful woman, directed by a woman. Some of them were because the movie is genuinely moving, and occasionally pretty scary (take that PG-13 rating seriously, please.)
Does the film have Jewish content? You bet. It stars a Israeli woman. Wonder Woman may have a Greek name but she learns a very Jewish lesson: humanity was born good, with a terrible capacity for evil. The fight is to free that which is good while curbing that which is evil. It is not a simple task.
Go. See the movie. Let me know what you think in the comments.
Image: Rabbi Steve Chester,my sponsoring rabbi, speaks to me at my ordination on May 18, 2008 at Wilshire Boulevard Temple in Los Angeles, CA. Photo by Linda Burnett.
Nine years ago today, I was ordained a rabbi. It was a long strange journey getting there, and it’s been a curious journey ever since. Lately I have been reminded by illness how much I love being a rabbi, and how grateful I am for meaningful work.
To all of you who have been with me on that path, thank you. ❤
