Archive for the ‘Iowa’ category

Standing On the Border of Tragedy and Hope

December 9, 2015

It was a remarkably beautiful day for December. The sun was shining and the temperatures were moderate. I arrived at the Waterfront Convention Center at just about 7:30 in the morning, looking ahead with both anticipation and anxiety about the day which was yet to unfold. Our own LINDA GOLDEN, LISA KILLINGER of the Islamic community, and I had been spearheading an effort to encourage Quad Citians to join in assembling meal packs to be sent to Jordan to feed the Syrian refugees in camps there. The actual assembling of these meal packs would be taking place for much of the day, with teams of 10 working in 1-hour shifts, from 8:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. At any given time, we had set ups for up to 16 teams working at once. Going into the morning, we were thrilled by the numbers of Quad Citians who had already stepped forward to help in this humanitarian effort. We had slots for 1,600 people to assemble meal packs and we already had 1,550 people sign up to do so! As the day progressed many more volunteers walked through the door. We enlisted the organization, KIDS AGAINST HUNGER, to do their magic in setting up and administering the project. In the past, Linda, Lisa, and I had wonderful experiences working with them as they put on their program in our religious schools. We were fully confident that they would do a great job. However, they had never put together a program this large or complex. So, as confident as we were, we still prayed that it would all come together smoothly, and it did.

We publicized the event as an interfaith effort and it was shaping up to be true to that name. We had Catholics and Protestants, Evangelicals and Unitarians, Jews and Muslim, Hindus and Buddhists, people of all sorts of religions and people of no religious affiliation, all having signed up to do their part to feed starving Syrian refugees. It was wondrous to see these various faith groups working side-by-side. At one point I had to chuckle for there was a group from the Jewish community that was awaiting the group ahead of them to finish working at their assigned table. The group that kept them waiting were the Buddhists. How often do you see something like that?

At the end of each hour, as the shift was ending, the energy level of the people finishing their shift was high for the very act of helping others increased their energy and lifted their souls. Sitting as I was at the donation table, each shift ended with people crowding the table, wanted to extend their good feelings by giving cash or writing checks to further help the cause. So many of them were so grateful for our having provided them with the opportunity to do this act if kindness. So many of them commented on how bereft they felt in the wake of the violence of the attacks in Paris and San Bernadino; how hopeless they felt coming into the Convention Center, but how filled with hope they felt as they left.

Paris, San Bernadino, Colorado Springs, ISIS, Syria, terrorist violence around the world, including the knife intifada in Israel, all have served to cast the dark shadows of tragedy and hopelessness over our little planet. Yet for that one Saturday, at the Waterfront Convention Center in Bettendorf, Iowa it seemed that a bright light had pierced through that darkness and filled our space and our lives with brilliant rays of hope. How could it be otherwise when people of such diverse backgrounds, theologies, and ideologies come together in order to serve a greater good; in order to further the wellbeing of total strangers, people they may even disagree with on political issues? In a world filled with hatred and violence, pettiness and strife, even if just for a moment, there were all these people who gathered to live up to the best of human potential and to create an oasis of caring, respect, and fundamental human decency. There is hope for our future!

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Endangered Childen and Community Conscience

July 27, 2014

There has been great debate throughout our nation concerning what shall be done with the hundreds of unaccompanied children who have in recent weeks crossed our border, seeking a refuge from the chaos and violence to which they were subjected in the homes in Central America.  Their parents sent them on that dangerous trek to the United States because they knew that if their children did not flee, more than likely, their children would wind up the victims of brutality, rape, and murder.  Today our country is divided between those who wish to welcome and protect these children and those who see them an placing an unacceptable burden upon our country’s resources and wish to send them back to from whence they came.

About two weeks ago, Bill Gluba, the Mayor of Davenport, Iowa – my community – put forth a proposal to  bring some of these children to our city.  Not surprisingly, the response to that proposal was mixed, marking us as a microcosm of the national debate.  There were those who gathered to plan on how we could best welcome these children, while there were those, including some alderman of our city council, who expressed there determination to keep them out of our town.  One alderman, on national TV, proclaimed his intention to stand in the middle of the street, blocking any bus carrying such children from entering within our city limits.

As those who know me can well imagine, I stand on the side of welcoming the children.  To that end, I have joined with other community clergy who are planning an event meant to declare an interfaith message of support for opening our doors to these young refugees.

Five days ago, I submitted an Opinion Page letter to the Quad City Times, expressing my particular perspective and feelings on the matter.  So far, my letter has not appeared in print or on their website.  They may yet publish it or they may never publish it.  I suspect that they have received many letters and cannot begin to publish them all.  Still, I want my voice to be heard, even if the audience is not nearly as large or as locally focused as it would be in our local paper.  Therefore, I have decided to share the text of this letter here in my blog.  While it speaks specifically to the question of whether or not the Quad Cities should open its doors and welcome these children, it also can be understood to address whether our nation itself should open its doors and welcome these children, declaring them “official” refugees from grave danger and persecution.  Here is what I wrote:

Prior to the outbreak of World War II, when the specter of the Holocaust loomed ever greater in Europe, and the borders of the free world were generally closed to Jews seeking to flee the coming destruction, there was one small ray of hope. That ray radiated out of England. While England, like the United States, would not open its doors to the endangered Jews, it did decide to open its doors to Jewish children. Boatload after boatload of Jewish children landed on British shores. With many tears and great anguish, their parents sent them away, knowing that they might never see them again, so that these children might not die at the hands of the Nazis. This valiant effort to save the children was called “Kindertransport” and it came to an abrupt end when England entered the war.

Holocaust analogies can easily be overplayed but sometimes they are truly appropriate. This is such an occasion. Today on our southern border there are amassed a large number of unaccompanied children from Central America who have been sent to our country by their parents, seeking asylum. Their parents, with broken hearts, sent them away because could not stand idly by while their children would have been beaten, raped, and killed. Like with the Kindertransport, these parents made an extremely hard choice in order to save their children’s lives.

Today, we in the Quad Cities are faced with a choice as well. Will we, like the people of England, open our doors and our hearts to these refugee children, or will we, like so many other nations back in the ‘30’s, choose to slam our doors shut on them and in so doing, condemn them to cruel suffering and death? In the years to come, which choice will we be better able to live with?

One Jew Reflecting on Christmas: A Postscript

February 3, 2014

I write this on the morning after the Superbowl.

Yesterday evening – not having a Superbowl Party to attend and not being very interested in sitting at home, watching the game (though we do love the commercials) – my wife and I went out for a bite of dinner, followed by an exciting evening of grocery shopping and a visit to Starbucks.  As we drove the streets of Davenport, Iowa, I could not help but be struck by how empty they were.  At the restaurant, we were 2 out of their 3 diners.  Most of the staff were gathered round the wall mounted TVs, watching the game.  While there were some people in the grocery store, relatively speaking it, too, was empty.  Then, at Starbucks, we were the only customers.

As we left Starbucks, heading for home, my thoughts traveled to two places:

The first was to Jerusalem, back in 1970, when I was a first year student at the Hebrew Union College.  It was Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the Jewish holiday calendar (except for Shabbat).  I do not know about how it is today but in those days, on Yom Kippur, the usually crowded streets of Jerusalem were eerily empty and quiet.  The only moving vehicles were the occasional military jeep.  The silence and stillness seemed to emphasize the sanctity of the day.

The second was not so much a place but a document – the last posting I placed on this blog:  “One Jew Reflecting on Christmas.”  In that posting, I bemoaned the changes I have been witnessing as to the very nature of Christmas Day in our society.  As I stated in that posting, it was not that long ago that out on the streets, Christmas Day, you might say, belonged to the Jews.  We would go to the movies and, except for the Jews, they were empty.  The same was true for the Chinese restaurants; the only restaurants that were open on Christmas Day.  Everyone else were gathered in their churches and homes, with their families, celebrating their sacred holiday.  However, this has become less and less the case, as with each passing year the movie theaters have become more and more crowded, as have the Chinese restaurants.  Indeed, this year, the movie theater was more crowded than I ever remember seeing it.

Driving home last night, on Superbowl Sunday – revisiting in my mind one Yom Kippur in Jerusalem 43 years ago and Christmas in the Quad Cities just a month and a half ago – I came to the realization, with a bit of a shock and sadness, that it is not that the American people have lost their sense of sacred occasions.  Rather it is that they have changed their views on what they hold sacred.  The place in their hearts once held by Yom Kippur and Christmas now is held by the Superbowl.  The church and the synagogue have been replaced by the stadium and the sports arena while the Christmas family dinner and, to a lesser extent, even the Passover Seder, have been replaced by the Superbowl and tailgate parties.  The streets of Jerusalem on Yom Kippur are now the streets of America on Superbowl Sunday night.

The Gift of Birthright

June 28, 2013

Yesterday I went to the Moline airport to pick up my daughter, Helene.  She and 5 other young women from our congregation were returning from a Birthright trip to Israel.  What great satisfaction I experienced in learning that they all had a marvelous time!  What great pride I felt in the fact that our small Iowa synagogue fielded the largest contingent from any one congregation in their tour group.

For those Jews of my parents’ generation who lived through the days when Israel was born, and for those Jews of my own generation who lived through the days when Israel struggled for its very survival during the 6-Day War and the Yom Kippur War, and when she astounded the world with the rescue of th0se Jews held hostage by terrorists at the Entebbe airport in Uganda, feeling a bond of love and pride, and a strong commitment, to Israel was natural.  However, today we have an entire generation of Jews who have not experienced an Israel struggling to survive; who have not had to confront the very real possibility of there no longer being an Israel.  Many of them tend to take Israel for granted and fail to feel that strong connection between all Jews and the Jewish state.  For those Jews, Israel is little more than just another nation on the face of the planet.  They have never developed that sense of Israel as being a Jew’s home away from home; the land of our history and our heritage.  It is not even high on their priority list of places to visit.  Indeed, among them there are those Jews who are more ready to criticize Israel than defend her.  There may even be some embarrassment  attached to the fact that she is not perfect – that at times there is injustice within her borders – yet they as Jews are automatically identified with her.  That no nation is perfect, including our own; that no nation on earth has cured all its social ills, does not seem to mitigate that embarrassment.  At best, we have allowed a generation of Jews to arise for whom Israel is not a very important part of their Jewish identity.  At worst, we have allowed a generation of Jews to arise among whom there are to be found too many who spurn Israel and who paint her in the vilest of colors.

Then along came multimillionaire Edgar Bronfman, with his profound love of Israel and his vast financial resources.  He may not have been the first to recognize this dilemma but he was the first to take very serious action to address it.  He dug deep into his own pocket and gave birth to Birthright; that magnificent program which offers free 10-day tours of Israel for young Jewish adults, ages 18-26, who had not yet in their lives enjoyed the benefit of having participated in a formal youth tour of Israel.  His goal was simple.  Remove the barriers of cost and bring young Jews to Israel and trust that Israel will weave its spell upon them.  Raise up a generation of Jews in whom are rekindled that special loving connection with the land and the nation of Israel.  The attribute of Ahavat Tziyon – the Love of Zion/Israel – has always been an essential aspect of Jewish identity.  For a while, on too many contemporary Jews it has been lost.  It was Bronfman’s dream to help the future leaders of the Jewish community to rediscover it.

From its beginnings, Birthright has proven to be a great success.  In the early days, when it was totally funded by Edgar Bronfman, there were long waiting lists of applicants for these trips.  Since even his funds were limited, there were some who had to apply 2 or 3 times before they made it onto a trip.  But, thank God, so many Jewish organizations decided to join him in his efforts.  Under the principle that nothing succeeds like success, more and more funds from more and more sources became available.  Now the number of Birthright trips is remarkable and even more so, the number of young Jewish adults taking advantage of this wonderful opportunity is astounding.  They literally flock to Birthright.  The cynic could say, “What do you expect?  Who in their right mind would want to pass up a free trip to a foreign destination?”  But that very same cynic cannot deny the fact that the overwhelming majority of these young Jews may go for free but they return filled with a love of Israel that they will carry with them the rest of their lives.

Thanks to the vision and the efforts of Edgar Bronfman, a new generation of Jews is arising who once again carry Israel in their hearts.  For them, Israel will no longer just be another nation.  It will be their home away from home.  When Israel is in the news, they will pay attention.  When Israel is wronged, they will stand up for her.  When Israel is in the wrong, they will lovingly try to do their part to help her find a better path.  Though their Birthright trip may have been their first pilgrimage to Israel, it will not be their last.  They will return to her soil, most likely again and again.  When they marry, they will want to share it with their spouses.  When the become parents, they will want to share it with their children, and eventually with their grandchildren.  Why?  Because now they understand that no Jew’s sense of Jewish identity can truly be complete without having stood on that sacred soil; without having stood where the heroes and prophets of our people have stood; without having prayed where they prayed.

The Jewish people and the Jewish future owe Edgar Bronfman a profound debt of gratitude.

When Reform Rabbis Meet: What Really Happens at Those Regional Conferences?

February 2, 2013

The Quad Cities temperature was 7 degrees above 0, with a wind chill of about 19 degrees below, early last Saturday morning when I drove to the airport to catch my flight to Phoenix, Arizona – more precisely Scottsdale – and the annual conference of the Mid West Association of Reform Rabbis.  I would be lying if I told you that I was not looking forward to escaping the brutal winter cold for the desert warmth, even if just for those few days.  Indeed, I was.  As it turned out, arriving in Scottsdale I encountered some of the worst winter weather that area has endured for a while.  Indeed, in the 11 years our organization had been holding its January meetings in Scottsdale, the weather has never been that foul.  On all but one day it rained, and the temperatures ranged from the low 60’s in the day to the mid to upper 40’s at night.  So it must have been an odd sight for the locals to see this bunch of mid western rabbis continually exclaiming how wonderful was the weather!  Everything is relative!

Now I expect that there are those, in each of our congregations, who earnestly believe that the only reason we rabbis and our wives go to this conference is because of the weather; that this is some sort of rabbinic junket.  But truth be told, they are wrong – dead wrong.  There are many reasons why my colleagues and I attend this conference.  The weather just happens to be a great fringe benefit.

Aside from the weather, why do we go?

One reason is that we go to study with a true Jewish scholar on a professional level that we simply cannot achieve at home.  At home we spend a good part of our lives being teachers of Judaism and as such, the resident Jewish experts; the top of the local Jewish learning food chain.  However, at these conferences we revel in not being teachers but rather being students.  We gladly surrender our place on the top of the Jewish learning food chain to our scholar.  And then we marvel at the wonderful insights our colleagues contribute to our classroom discussions.  For those who love the very act of learning, our study sessions are festivals in intellectual renewal.

So what do we study and how relevant is it to our work back home?  The main topic varies from year to year.  Sometimes we study various aspects of our classical texts.  At those times most of our studying is done in Hebrew and Aramaic.  At other times we may be studying matters of theology or history or ethics or any number of Jewishly related topics.  Sometimes the content of our study is directly relevant to what we do in our congregations.  Sometimes it is indirectly relevant, and sometimes it is purely study for study’s sake, with no relevance to our roles as congregational rabbis.  Our tradition calls such study Torah LeShma – the Study of Torah for Its Own Sake – and considers it the highest form of study; the greatest study mitzvah there can be, for it is study for the sake of heaven and not for the sake of personal and professional gain.

This year we studied about early Christianity, its relationship to ancient Judaism, and how the rise of Christianity altered the then traditional Jewish attitudes toward Gentiles.  Our scholar was a young assistant professor at the Hebrew Union College in Los Angeles.  He was brilliant, informative, entertaining, and personable.  We thoroughly enjoyed him, but he made me and my contemporaries feel old, especially when he spoke about growing up in the congregation of one of our classmates; my good friend and rabbinical school car pool buddy, Rabbi Alan Katz.  Was what we learned directly relevant to my work here?  Could I take my notes from his lectures and offer a class in our adult education program?  Not really, for in order to appreciate what he was teaching, one needs to have a somewhat significant background in Jewish knowledge.  But on the other hand, it was indirectly relevant to my life back here in the Quad Cities, for from his lectures, his handouts, and our discussions, I did obtain a deeper understanding and appreciation of Jewish-Christian relations; one that will enhance my interactions with our Christian neighbors.

Another reason is that we go to pray together.  As you know, we rabbis pray all the time, much of it from the bimah.  Prayer is important to us, and we try to communicate our love of prayer to our congregants.  But to be honest, congregational prayer, as many of you know, is also political.  One congregant wants our prayers to be this way.  Another congregant wants our prayer to be that way.  Sometimes we rabbis find ourselves simply praying that we can magically make everyone happy.  But when we gather as rabbis to pray, the only ones who we have to make happy are ourselves.  We are free to lose ourselves in prayer, knowing that everyone else in the room is likewise praying with abandon.  As our voices rise up in song – for most of our prayers are sung – we can sense our souls rising along with them.  Rabbis in prayer are a powerful prayer community.

Another reason is that we go to meet with and learn from representatives of some of the significant Reform Jewish organizations; organizations like the Central Conference of American Rabbis, the Union for Reform Judaism, the Rabbinic Placement Commission, and the Reform Pension Board.  They advise us as to what is going on, and what is on the horizon, in their various organizations.  Through them we get a snapshot of the state of our movement, and of its future.

So, for example, we learned how the Central Conference of American Rabbis is getting ready to field test its new High Holy Day prayer book.  We also discussed how the landscape of the contemporary rabbinate has been altered by the rise of so many independent rabbinic seminaries, ranging anywhere from offering serious rabbinic education to online seminaries that offer almost instantaneous ordination.  Questions now arise as to which rabbinic degrees are to be considered legitimate and which not.  So we learned that our own organization – the Central Conference of American Rabbis – when considering legitimacy for serving Reform pulpits, has divided the seminaries into three categories: 1) Those that provide a competent rabbinic education and demonstrate a commitment to the ideals of Reform Judaism;  2) Those that provide a competent rabbinic education but whose commitment to Reform Jewish ideals are questionable;  and 3) Those that do not provide a competent rabbinic education and whose commitment to Reform Jewish ideals are questionable.  The more we discussed this matter, the more I realize that our congregations need to come to terms with it as well.  For with budgetary constraints, there is a great allure to hiring rabbis on the cheap.  But when a congregation places financial considerations above ideological ones, what are they letting themselves in for?

From the URJ representative we learned that the Union is going to be moving forward with its emphasis on new technologies.  What I heard described was something akin to an Iphone Siri that will provide guidance on all sorts of Jewishly related subjects from studying Talmud to synagogues with solar panels.  Also, interestingly enough, the Union is feeling the ill effects of having eliminated its regional structure.  So now they will be looking to re-create it, in a fashion, but with lay leadership instead of rabbinic.

Yet another reason that we go – and perhaps the most important reason – is for our sense of hevruta, community.  There is a special bond that ties rabbis together, especially if we are of the same ideological ilk.  We are a family, and as such, we understand, appreciate, and care for each other as no one else can.  We need each other for no one understands rabbis like other rabbis.  We love our congregations and the people who populate them.  We all have been fortunate to have in our congregations and in our communities friends whom we hold as especially dear, but still, at the end of the day, each of us is “The Rabbi” with all the expectations and limitations that go along with that title.  Only among our colleagues can we fully let our hair down; can we lower our guard and not be “The Rabbi” but simply be a thinking, feeling, flawed human being, and with it all, be unconditionally accepted and loved.  No, we are not just colleagues.  We are family, and such meetings are emotionally charged family reunions.  We know that we can reach out to each other anytime and be confident that the others will be there for us.  So, for example, when Rev. Ron Quay was diagnosed with lymphoma and was told that the doctor he needed to see – the best in the field – was in Omaha, I knew that if I picked up the phone and called Rabbi Aryeh Azriel in Omaha, and if he had the right connections, he would make it happen.  And so I did.  And so he did, with Rev. Quay receiving a call the very next day from the office of that doctor.  So we know that we are there for each other all the time, and that only makes it all the more powerful when we can be there for each other in person, rather than at a distance.

So every year the Cantor and I eagerly look forward to our January sojourn in Scottsdale.  Of course we enjoy stepping out of the mid western winter into the realm of the desert.  Even as the sun renews us, we are all the more renewed and revitalized by all that we share with our colleagues during those too few days in the Arizona sun.

Rosh Hashanah Hunger Appeal 2012

September 18, 2012

I serve a congregation that is very dedicated to the work of Tikkun Olam – Repairing the World, what many people call Social Justice.  One aspect of our Tikkun Olam programming is to place significant emphasis on hunger issues during the High Holy Days.  To that end, I open our Rosh Hashanah evening service with an annual Hunger Appeal.  Below is the text of this year’s Appeal.

Shanah Tovah Tikateivu!  May you all be inscribed for blessings in the Book of Life!  As I extend to you our traditional holy day greeting on this Rosh Hashanah, I ask you to pause and reflect upon it, even if just for a moment.  What does our tradition tell us to seek – to aspire to – on Rosh Hashanah?  Blessings.  We yearn for our lives and for the year ahead to be filled with blessings.  Yet when we think about it, how can we deny that our lives already are extremely blessed?  We cannot.  We have homes that are warm in the winter and cool in the summer.  We have closets full of clothing and pantries, refrigerators, and freezers filled with food.  Our community is teeming with grocery stores and restaurants, and most, if not all of us, are more than capable of frequenting them when we please and purchasing whatever our hearts desire.

In these, and in so many other ways, we are already abundantly blessed.  Yet as the new year approaches, still our prayers are for increased blessings.  For in everyone’s life, there is always room for an additional blessing or two or three.

It is precisely because we are so blessed already that year after year, I unashamedly open up our High Holy Day services with this hunger appeal, to beseech you who already are so greatly blessed not only to seek blessings for yourselves but also to open up your hearts and extend yourselves so that you will to bestow blessings on others as well; bestowing your blessing upon those people in our community and in our world whose lives are so dramatically different than our own, for theirs are so bereft of blessings.

Living in a land of plenty and possessing the abundance that we so fortunately possess, it can be difficult for us to even begin to imagine how the lives of others, not just on our planet but also in our own community, can be so lacking in what we take for granted.

There is a Hasidic story which speaks directly to that point.  It is the story of a poor man whose family is about to face the winter without being able to afford enough to purchase sufficient firewood to see them through it.  So he swallows his pride and goes to the home of the wealthiest man in town, asking that man for a loan in order to acquire the wood.  Well the wealthy man considers the request but in the end decides to deny it because, quite frankly, he could not envision how the poor man would ever be able to repay the loan.  After this rejection, the poor man goes to the rabbi, sharing with him his problems and how the wealthy man responded to them.  So the rabbi goes to the home of the wealthy man.  When the wealthy man answers the door and sees the rabbi on his doorstep, he immediately invites him in.  But the rabbi refuses, saying that what he has to discuss will not take very long, so let us discuss it right here.  The rabbi then begins to speak, and speak, and speak, and speak.  Standing in the open doorway, in the brisk air of early winter, it is not long before the wealthy man is feeling the chill.  “Come on rabbi!  Come inside.  We can sit by the fire and have a nice cup of warm tea and conduct our business.”  “No,” the rabbi responds, “I am almost done so let’s just continue where we are.”  Finally, after more and more talk on the rabbi’s part, the wealthy man becomes quite insistent.  “Rabbi, I am freezing out here!  Please!  Let’s go inside!”  With this, the rabbi turns to the wealthy man and says, “You have only been standing in this cold for a few brief moments, and already you find it unbearable.  How much the worse it will be for that poor man and his family this winter because you could not find it in your heart to lend him the money to keep his wife and children warm!”

Think of that story on Yom Kippur, especially if you are fasting.  As the day wears on, and you get hungrier and hungrier, remember that the day will end and you will enjoy a wonderful break the fast.  Yet throughout this world there are literally millions of people – according to the most recent statistics, 925 million people; one out of every seven people on this planet – who starve, not just one day year, but 365 days a year.  While they starve, we are like the wealthy man, for it is in our power to help them by opening up our hearts, and our wallets, and sharing some of our blessings with them; by making efforts we are more than capable of making which will help to ease their suffering.

While when it comes to hunger issues, we tend to think of the starving populations of foreign lands, particularly in Asia and Africa, the harsh reality is that hunger is no stranger to our own community as well.  It may shock you to learn that 1 in every 6 Quad Citians is a victim of hunger, with children under 18 years of age representing 39% of that population.  For those who receive and depend upon food stamps for their nutrition, the typical food stamp allotment is a mere $1.50 per meal.  How many of us are capable, nevertheless willing, to maintain that type of diet?

All this is why year after year I come to you and I beg you to support our various hunger programs.  And I most certainly do that again this year, but this year with a difference.  In past years, I have regaled you with our own congregational statistics; how many walkers we fielded for the CROP Walk, how much money we raised, how many pounds of food we collected, and how all of that compared to years past.  I know that I find those statistics very meaningful, but I am not quite sure that you do.  Sometimes I wonder whether or not I am boring you with them, and by boring you, hurting the cause rather than helping it.  So this year, I will refrain from presenting those numbers.  Suffice it to say that our congregation has a proud history of stepping up and supporting these hunger programs and I pray that once again, we will prove ourselves up to the challenge.

So I call upon you once again to support our efforts on behalf of the annual CROP WALK Against World Hunger.  We need as many walkers as we can field and we need people to pledge as much as they can.  If you walk, you also can pledge, and if you pledge you also can walk.  This year’s Walk will take place on Sunday, October 7, beginning at 2:00 p.m., starting at Modern Woodman Park – which some of us still stubbornly call John O’Donnell Stadium.  About the Walk, people sometimes wonder whether they have to complete the course in order to qualify for their pledges.  The answer is “No.”  All we ask is that you walk as much as you can.  For well over 20 years, I have walked in every one of these walks.  These days, my health being what it is, walking is not one of my strong suits.  However, with the help of this handy-dandy inhaler, I plan on making at least part of this walk.  I hope you will join me.

I call upon you to once again support our collection of non-perishable food items.  For years, we have taken this time between Rosh Hashanah and Simhat Torah to collect food on behalf of our local Riverbend Foodbank.  As we do so this year, I want you to remember two things: First, that what we collect will help to feed the 1 in 6 Quad Citians who are so desperately in need.  Secondly, I want you to think about all the reports you have heard about how during the coming year, food prices are going to soar as a result of this summer’s drought.  As you consider how that will effect your own pocket books, think about what that means for those who already are having trouble putting food on their family’s tables.

I call upon you once again to make a contribution to that very important Jewish organization, MAZON.  MAZON was the first exclusively Jewish organization created to address the issue of hunger.  Their approach is a holistic one, as expressed in the words of their mission statement: “To provide for people who are hungry while at the same time advocating for other ways to end hunger and its causes.”  In your prayer books, you will find a self-addressed donation envelop for MAZON.  I encourage you to take it home and seriously consider making a donation equal to what it would cost you to take the members of your household out to dinner at a restaurant.

And finally, I call upon you to support the efforts of our Tikkun Olam Committee throughout the year, as they periodically prepare and serve meals for Café on Vine, one of our community’s meal sites for the homeless.

In PIRKE AVOT, we are taught, “Lo alecha hamlacha ligmor, v’lo ata ben horin lehibateil mimena! – While you are not obligated to complete the task, neither are you free to desist from it!”  While we at Temple Emanuel, by ourselves, cannot hope to solve the challenge of hunger in our own community, nevertheless in the world, still we should feel it incumbent upon us to do everything we possibly can to contribute our part to that solution.  Ken yehi ratzon! – May it be God’s will!  May it be our will!

A Pebble in the Ocean

May 9, 2012

What do the United States, Canada, the United Kingdom, Israel, Australia, Indonesia, Taiwan, Brazil, the Russian Federation, Saudi Arabia, Bulgaria, Papua New Guinea, Chile, Kenya, & India have in common?  They are just some of the 31 nations in which my internet blog has been read.  No.  I am not bragging – well maybe just a little.  Indeed, I was as surprised as you are, and maybe more so, when I checked the statistics of my blog only to discover that at least some of what I have written here in Iowa has been read in as many as 31 nations; in many places that I never in my wildest dreams believed that my thoughts and words would ever reach.  But there it was, staring me in the face, with both a list of the various countries  and a color coded map of the world showing that far more of the surface of this planet have been touched by my writing than remains untouched.

Quite some time ago, New York Times journalist Thomas Friedman wrote a book about “globalization.”  He told the reader that we have to come to grips with the fact that our world is truly shrinking; that we on Planet Earth are far more interconnected then we choose to assume.  He was right on target!  The international coverage received by my blog is but one small testimony to that truth.  But you may be further surprised to learn that what Thomas Friedman was espousing in modern times was anticipated by a Hasidic rabbi in the 19th century.  In TALES OF THE HASIDIM, Martin Buber shares some of the teachings of Rabbi Avraham Yaakov of Sadagora, who died in 1883.  Rabbi Avraham said:  “Everything can teach us something, and not only what God has created.  What man has made also has something to teach us… One Hasd asked dubiously, ‘What can we learn from a telephone?’  What we say here is heard there.”  From the statistics, it would seem that the readership of my blog testifies to the truth of Rabbi Avraham’s, and Thomas Friedman’s, teachings.  What is said here is heard there.

The point is that what each and every one of us say and do can, and indeed does, have an international impact.  We can, and do, make a difference in this world.  All too often we think of ourselves as small and insignificant when it comes to changing the world around us.  But in truth we are like the pebble that is dropped into the ocean.  Being so dropped, the pebble does create ripples which travel outward and ultimately  result in changing the very face of the entire ocean; whose impact is felt as far away as a foreign shore.  Like the pebble, our words and our deeds travel outward, and continue to travel, traversing great distances and touching countless people; people whose names and faces are completely unknown to us.  When we think we do not matter, we are merely selling ourselves short, for we do matter.  We matter greatly.

Recently, the students of my Jewish community’s joint religious school packaged meals for a program called Kids Against Hunger.  In the course of one Sunday morning, they packed the equivalent of 2,880 meals.  When you consider that the ideal goal is that every human being should consume 3 meals a day, every day, then doing the math, we discover that to feed one person adequately for one year, we need to provide 1,095 meals.  In the course of a morning, our small religious school provided almost enough food to feed one person for two years or two people for one year.  The representative of the Kids Against Hunger program informed our students that this program recently reached the 1 million meal mark.  In other words, they have created enough meals to feed over 913 people for a year.  This program has made a difference.  Our children, in the course of 90 minutes on one Sunday morning have made a difference.

Each and every one of us can make a real difference in this world.  Whether or not we do so is purely up to us.  Each and every one of us must come to recognize that it is within our power to change the world for the better, and then proceed to choose to work to bring such change into our world.