Memorial Day - in honor of my uncle Eddie

This morning at minyan I commemorated the yarhzeit of my uncle Eddie. Eddie was a bombardier during World War Two--one of those who did not make it home. As I speak of his life and death and recite the El Malei prayer,  deep emotions are stirred within me; tears pour out and my voice catches. I feel so connected to this man who I never knew. I mourn for the love and laughter he would have added to our family. I mourn for my father's loss of his brother and mentor; for my grandparent's loss of their oldest son. On this day I channel their grief.

This particular yarhzeit has taken on a significance that goes beyond the personal. Unsure of the exact date of his death, I decided it was appropriate to observe Eddie's yarhzeit on Memorial Day. And although I now know the exact date and circumstances of his death due to records that are available on the internet, I continue this commemoration at the insistence and support of my minyan community, sharing these words so we all can channel a bit of that grief and remember the reason we mark this day.


"Pa - so you thought I forgot your anniversary. Well, at least Ma stood by me. I'm glad you liked the card. . . I received a letter from Seymour {my dad} on Tuesday and he tells me that he made PFC {Private First Class}. You can't imagine what a kick I got out of hearing this. I went around and passed cigarettes to the boys just like a father passes out cigars when he gets a baby"

"You ask what's new with me. There is still nothing definite to tell you. We may as well not kid each other - when I finish my training here I will be due to go over. . . Please don't start worrying about me - there is still plenty of time for that. . . I'm not worried about anything except that you are worrying about me. This is a great experience for me and I'm sure I will benefit by it. Why, there must be a million fellows who would do anything to trade places with me and get on a B-29 crew"

Those words were written by my uncle, Lieutenant Edward Heiss, US Army Air Force, in letters to his parents, my immigrant grandparents, Sam and Pepi Heiss, in January and February, 1944. He signed off, as he did all his letters, with "I am feeling fine. So long. Lots of love, Eddie." One year later, on January 11, 1945, his B-29 fell to the ground in pieces somewhere over Malaysia. Of the eleven crew members, only three made it out alive---he was not one of those three.




When I was growing up, a colored version of this photo of my uncle was on my grandmother's dresser. I was curious who it was, but somehow, never asked, and no one ever talked about him. I don't remember when or how I found out who he was. Once I did, I wondered how my family's life would have been different if he had come home.

What was he like - this man so often photographed with a smile; the one who, as my father tells it, convinced my dad to go to Yankee Stadium one Rosh Hashanah afternoon.








The commanding officer of his squadron wrote my grandparents, "No matter how fatigued he may have been, or how he felt personally, Edward always had a laugh and a word of encouragement, to cheer the other members of his crew and squadron. . . He undoubtedly was one of the best liked officers in this organization."





For years after my uncle's plane went down my grandfather held out hope that some miracle would find him alive. After all, no body was ever found. A musician--string bass and tuba--who worked many high society events attended by high military brass, my grandfather would go up to those generals and ask, "please, find out what happened to my son."

My Uncle Eddie received a Purple Heart, posthumously.

I would have rather had him in my life.

On Memorial Day we need to remember that war, justified or not, will always take its toll.

Zichrono L'vracha
His remembrance is a blessing to my dad, to me, and to all with whom I share his story.

Looking at Kaddish

היום שבעה ועשרים יום שהם שלשה שבועות וששה ימים בעמר
Today is twenty-seven days, which is three weeks and six days of the omer
יסוד שבנצח
A day of foundation in a week of perseverance

On this day of foundation I take a liturgy class--one of many that I have taken with Rabbi Stuart Kelman. This one was on the various Kaddishes that are said in our prayer services, with much time spent on the Mourners' Kaddish, the prayer said on behalf of a loved one who has died. As often is the case with prayers, the customs go back so far that often their origins are obscured, But because they have been in existence for so many centuries, they are looked at as "law."

The codification of our observances is what unites us as Jews, gives us a tribal connection in this global society. But we need to remember that they are not set in stone. We need to learn what part they play in our lives, how they work, and even look at why they work...or don't. While the connection of tradition is important, keeps us in that stream that has run through the ages, we also need to revisit the customs, and renew their meanings so they can continue to to speak to us today.

When lesson plans get personal

היום שמונה ימים  שהם שבוע אחד ויום אחד בעמר
Today is eight days, which is one week and one day of the omer
חסד שבגבורה
A day of loving kindness in a week of strength

I'm in the midst of an 8 session course I'm teaching to 7th & 8th graders on the Jewish experience in America. Most of the students are interested in the subject--a nice plus that's not always the case when teaching in a supplementary synagogue environment. And those that are there just to mark time have been, for the most part, engaged--another check mark in the plus column. I can think of two aspects that may have piqued their interest.

One is that they are learning something new--a part of American and Jewish history they have not been exposed to before. It was great to hear a collective "that's cool" when I showed them a prayer written in Hebrew to honor the ratification of the Constitution that included an acrostic of "Washington" in Hebrew. They had also never considered that there would be Jews who were slave owners, as we considered what seders would have been like for southern Jews, speaking of their ancestors' liberation from slavery while being served by their own African-American slaves.


I think, and I certainly hope, that this subject is also making them think about their own relationship to being a Jew in America. I set the stage in the first class as we talked about the whether they thought of themselves as Jewish-Americans or American-Jews, and what the difference between the two would be.

The lesson I will teach this evening was actually one catalyst to me developing this course. We will be looking at the time period of the great wave of immigration to America from 1880 - 1920, when approximately 23 million immigrants entered the country, mostly from European countries. Around 2 million of those immigrants were Jews, mostly from Eastern Europe. Many of those Jews crowded into New York City's Lower East Side, creating a new world for Jews in American where, for the first time, they are a majority, albeit in a small corner of the country. Since most of my students are California natives, the immigrant experience as it applies to Jews is new territory for them, and something I think it's important for them to know. It's not just about teaching them about their heritage, which is important, but my hope is that it will give them a closer lens from which to look at all the immigration issues facing us in America today.

In planning this lesson, I realized I could also make it personal for me. I will be sharing photos of my family--photos taken in both the old and new worlds. I will show them my grandmother's family. I will show them a photo of my great-grandfather in his klezmer band in Poland, and my grandfather when he played with Paul Whiteman's band in New York.  I'll show them the ship manifests from the Ellis Island website, with the records entry for my grandmother, my aunt, and my great-grandmother Malkah--for whom I'm named.

I'm hoping bringing in my family's story will help make this time period come alive for them. Maybe I can get another "that's cool" reaction. It is pretty cool for me to be able use these mementos from my family's past to teach those who are the future of our people. It not only brings to life the phrase, "L'dor v'dor" - from generation to generation, but it lets me honor the memories of those who were dear to me, truly making them a blessing.

Not just another Shabbat

Judaism is not so much a creed as a series of concrete activities. Shabbat is a vivid spiritual experience if we make Kiddush and Havdalah and fill the space in between with traditional Shabbat activities: study, prayer, singing, dancing and festive meals. If we don’t do these things, Shabbat is just another Saturday.

                 "The Year is like a River" - September, 1996

This Shabbat is certainly not just another Saturday. This Shabbat marks four years since the passing of Rabbi Lew. I share those and other words of his, and I write these words of remembrance to honor this man whose life and teachings taught me and so many of us how the concrete activities of Jewish life can bring us the spiritual experience we seek.

One of my favorite teachings of his, one that comes up for me again and again, is his teaching from the 15th century commentator Don Isaac Abravanel in his description of the Torah, the five books of Moses, as a blueprint for a spiritual life. This teaching echoes the path of Rabbi Lew's life, as well as holding the gifts that he brought us.

Bereshit - Genesis, the stories of our tribal origins, represents the personal spiritual seeking, ending in a leave-taking. Rabbi Lew’s personal spiritual journey is well known, and we were lucky that his path led him here. For he was able to reach out and speak to the spiritual seeker in all of us.  And he was able to show us how the rich traditions of Jewish ritual can act as signposts along the way.

Shemot - Exodus, our formation as a spiritual nation, represents revelation—hearing the words and concepts that will guide our lives and form our community. Through his teachings, Rabbi Lew brought us different meanings and interpretations of those words and concepts, showing us that revelation is not a one-time event of ecstasy, but something that can enrich our daily lives.

Which brings me to Vayikra - Leviticus, the nuts and bolts of the practice. Rabbi Lew was never one to water down practice simply to make it easier to follow. Instead, he inspired us to look to the deeper meanings, opening up the rituals in ways that made us want to participate as fully as we could.

Daily minyan is the modern version of the single lamb our ancestors offered up every morning and every evening. Praying every day we come to know the full range of human spiritual potential; from transcendent exaltation to stultifying boredom; from the frustration of not quite knowing what we're saying to the joy of being swept up in a spiritual energy larger than our own. Praying every day with others we get a very real sense of how difficult it is to join in real communion with others, and how wonderful it feels when we finally manage to do so; praying every day with others we come to explore that tenuous boundary between self and other which is always the real locus of the spiritual experience.

           “The Minyan is for Your Sake” – November 1996

Bamidbar - Numbers, the forging of community as we wander for 40 years, is about bringing the practice into our lives. And that is where, I think, our debt of gratitude to Rabbi Lew is at its greatest. For he made it his mission to share with all of us his love of Judaism and the deep spiritual sense it has brought to his life. That's what made his sermons so special—he didn’t just talk about the practice, he lived it. He didn’t just teach about the benefits of meditating, he was there at 6 a.m. He didn’t just preach the importance of keeping our minyan vibrant, he participated fully. He kept looking for ways to reach us all.

As a case in point, I looked to one of my favorite sermons of his, one given Rosh Hashanah 5760, in 1999. It's a sermon that demonstrates why we will always be filled with respect and love and honor for Rabbi Lew.

He first sets a scene of a news crew filming meditation—"Apparently, this is a thing of great amazement – a bunch of Jews sitting in the room without talking; quick,  get the cameras! Let's run this on the 6 o'clock news." They also film minyan. His description of minyan focuses on the time-honored Beth Sholom tradition of saying "Yasher Koach" – loosely translated, may the force be with you -- to everyone who participates in the slightest manner. Why do we do this? Rabbi Lew said: "We are congratulating you because of all the places you could have put your energy in this world, of all the forces you could have aligned your force with, you freely chose to be here, to put your energy here, to align yourself with the three thousand year old stream of spiritual energy we call Judaism"

Later in the sermon, Rabbi Lew goes on to relate that "Yasher Koach" moment to a moment in this country that demonstrated that same spiritual achievement — that moment in 1995 when Cal Ripken, shortstop for the Baltimore Orioles, played in 2,131 straight games, breaking Lou Gherig's record. Rabbi Lew understood that this achievement of being present and showing up each day made the difference in a world that doesn't always show up as we would wish. Rabbi Lew said "simple human presence – simply being present, simply persisting in being here – has tremendous spiritual power, It has the power to heal. It has the power to nurture."

Which brings us to Devarim - Deuteronomy, Moshe's last words to the people he has guided through the desert. I never heard Rabbi Lew mention Devarim in his Abravanel teaching, so one day I asked him what part of living a spiritual life did that book represent? He answered, “Devarim is about preparing for one’s death.”

Rabbi Lew left us too soon, but in the life he led, he understood that recognizing our mortality is an integral part of living a full life. And we have many of his teachings on this, as he spoke and wrote about Yom Kippur, the day in Jewish practice when we look to the meaning of death in our life. As he wrote in This is Real and You are Completely Unprepared:

This is the only life we have, and we all will lose it. No one gets out alive, but to lose nobly is a beautiful thing. To know the core of our being is to move beyond winning and losing.

It is to enter that moment where life is deep and rich and God is present for us. We all lose, some of us nobly, and all of us with a certain amount of tragedy. But as Rabbi Zimmerman (a.k.a. Bob Dylan) reminds us, “there’s no success like failure,” and any loss that carries us closer to the core of life is no loss at all.

Zichrono L’Vracha

His memory, living on in his teachings, is a blessing

"The river of life is inexorable. It will carry us to the end no matter what we do. Our activities, Jewish or otherwise, are unlikely to effect the outcome very much at all. But they can effect the quality of  the experience very deeply – in fact, they can transform it”

Zichrono L'vracha - Joseph Salem

היום שנים ושלשים יום שהם ארבעה שבועות וארבעה ימים לעומר
Today is thirty-two days, which is four weeks and four days of the omer
נצח שבהוד
A day of perseverance in a week of humility

There are many joys involved in being a part of a multigenerational community, but along with that comes sharing in the sorrows. Today marked the burial of a wonderful man, Joe Salem, who passed away on Sunday at the age of 89. Joe was a loyal member of the Beth Sholom minyan community for many years. He was there when I began attending in November of 2000 until a couple of years ago when his Alzheimers kept him confined to a home. He had a loving family--his wife of 62 years, a daughter and 2 sons, 5 grandchildren who he adored.

Being a part of daily minyan meant he became part of our family as well. When his health began to fail and he could no longer drive, we organized rides for him so he could still attend. And for some years after that became untenable, his son brought him to this place that was a comfort to him--a place that, even with the onset of his dementia, he felt at peace and could still follow and participate in the rituals. A strong, elegant yet quiet man, he had a wonderful sense of humor that would manifest in one line zingers that would make us all smile.

Zichrono l'vracha -- his memory is a blessing to his families--those related by blood as well as those related by community. We all hold him in our hearts.

Got Balz? Coming of Age with baseball, bagels, and mambo

היום ששה ועשרים יום שהם שלשה שבועות וחמשה ימים לעומר
Today is twenty-six days, which is three weeks and five days of the omer
הוד שבנצח
A day of humility in a week of perseverance

I have a curriculum called "The Kabbalah of Jewish Identity" that I use in my class of 7th & 8th graders. It will come as no surprise that I created this during last year's omer period :) I use the bottom seven sephirot--the same ones we use to count the omer--as a hook to discuss different aspects of what it means to be a Jew. For humility, I first give them each two cards which the rabbis (which ones depends on who you ask :) say you should always have with you--one saying "For my sake, the world was created"; the other saying "I am but dust and ashes" The they learn about Hank Greenberg and Sandy Kofax--two Hall of Fame baseball players who faced the decision of whether or not to play in the World Series on Yom Kippur. Although neither one was an observant Jew, they opted not to play. They knew how important it was to the American Jewish community that they were a part of to honor that ritual. As big as they were in their professions, as important a moment they were facing--they understood the humility of being a part of something bigger.

Once again, the venn diagram aspect of my communities comes into play. On the day of humility where I get to intersect my Jewish world and my baseball world, my friend and video/film worlds join the overlap. My friends Marcia Jarmel & Ken Schneider, award-winning filmmakers who I met because of my video profession, are finishing a film made with their son Micah documenting his bar mitzvah project of bringing baseball gear to teens in Cuba. The Cuba connection is not just one of need, but a place that is a part of Micah's grandfather's Holocaust rescue story. And it is not just a coming of age story, not just a Holocaust survival story, but it is a story that can reach our youth about their Jewish identity. But rather than me tell you about it, watch the video below.





The film is almost done, but there is still finishing work to be done so this piece can go out into the world. I know I will be using this in my classroom, sharing this bar mitzvah story with the b'nei mitzvah of the future. Please click here for more information and share this with anyone you think may be interested.

Happy New Year; Happy Anniversary

Today was the first of Nissan, the first month of the Jewish calendar---so technically, the start of the year. When you think about it, it seems to make sense to think that spring--a time of rebirth and blooming--would be a good time to start the year.

The first of Nissan has additional meaning for me. It is on this Hebrew date in 5762 (it was March 14 in 2002) that I began my dance with chemotherapy. Ten years of non-recurrence of cancer is a good milestone. It's another threshold of that experience that I get to walk through--and the more I leave behind, the better.

To commemorate the day, I went back to my journal from that time to touch those thoughts from a safe perspective. I'd like to share some of them here......

A new year, a new journey starts. 

This morning, walking to yoga, my thoughts came to their own revelation. The thing about having mortality hit you in the face becomes not about death - it brings an appreciation for life. And it's not about doing grand gestures, going on as if you could be gone tomorrow. It comes back to mindfulness - to be present; dealing with whatever thoughts or actions that brings. That's one part of this that is a gift 

I can feel the drugs in my body--although which drugs I'm feeling, I don't know. Is it just an atavan haze or the poisons working their way through -- time will tell. I just feel kind of spacey. I am aware of the flow within my body. And since this is the first time, I have to just experience the process 

Again, it's process...life is process
Another lesson
And process is presence
And as we learn to deal with the presence
We become clearer on the process
               that is life

L'Dor V'Dor

היום ששה ושלשה יום שהם חמשה שבועות ואחד יום לעמר
Today is 36 days, which is five weeks and one day, of the omer
חסד שביסוד
A day of loving kindness in a week of foundation

In a week and a half, my first official Beth Sholom student will commemorate his bar mitzvah. In this past year there were times of struggle--his haftarah is long; the Hebrew did not come easily. But he worked very hard and put in his practice time while juggling school and band and competitive gymnastics.

Today, he could chant his Torah blessings, his Torah from the Torah text, his haftarah blessings and his haftarah. I am so proud of him. I could see by the smile on his face that he feels that sense of accomplishment that is one of the many lessons of this year long exercise. And I store that look in my heart to carry me through those inevitable tough times with future students.

לדור ודור

From generation to generation

we transmit our tradition

with loving kindness

That is our foundation

Standing in the Stream of Life

היום הששה ועשרים יום שהם שלשה שבועות וחמשה ימים בעמר
Today is the twenty-sixth day, making three weeks and five days of the omer
הוד שבנצח
A day of humility in a week of perseverance

At Beth Sholom, we ask anyone who comes to minyan to commemorate a yarhzeit--an anniversary of the passing of a loved one--if they would like to say a few words about the person they are remembering. It adds an extra level to the experience when the El Malai prayer is chanted--for the survivor sharing the memory and for those of us standing in support. At that moment, we all hold that person in our heart.

This morning, my friend Katherine shared the connection she felt between working with her son on the chicken coops they're building and the time her dad spent working with her on the Future Farmer of America projects of her youth. It was one way she could pass the love her father had for her on to her children. לדור ודור – L'dor v'dor - from generation to generation.

Another woman, Penny, was there to commemorate the yarhzeit of her husband. She told us they met in USY--the national youth organization of the Conservative Movement. They had 17 years together, were married for 11 years, and this was the 25th anniversary of his death. She shared this knowing we would understand the connections to her youth, to her Judaism. We could share the pain of her loss, no matter how long ago.

In these moments, as I place my hand on each shoulder and chant those ancient words, I feel humbled in the presence of enduring love and am honored to share in the stream of their lives.

Memorial Day Remembrance

היום ששה וארבעים יומים שהם ששה שבועות וארבעה יומים לעמר
Today is the forty-sixth day of the omer - six weeks and four days
נצח שבמלכת
A day of endurance in a week of majesty

This morning at minyan I once again commemorated the yarhzeit of my uncle, Edward Heiss, a bombardier in World War II whose plane was shot down over Malaysia on January 11, 1945. His name was later found on the roster of a Japanese prisoner of war camp, but he never made it home.


This particular yarhzeit has taken on significance to me that goes beyond the personal. Make no mistake, deep emotions are stirred within me. I feel so connected to this man who I never knew. I mourn for the love and laughter he would have added to our family. I mourn for my father's loss of his brother and mentor; for my grandparent's loss of their oldest son. On this day I channel their grief--tear pour out and my voice catches as I recite the El Malei prayer to honor his life. You can read the words I share here, and reflections of Memorial Day's past here and here.

But on this day that has come to mean the start of summer more than a day of remembrance, honoring the memory of my uncle brings home the reality of the lives lost in war. There are many families who are grieving as my family grieved; in as much denial as my grandfather, who could not accept the loss of his son. It is important to me to bring that realization to my community each Memorial Day, to hold that consciousness in their hearts. We need to remember that war, justified or not, will take its toll--on the living as well as the countless lives lost. And true healing from those wounds does not come from forgetting those lost lives, but remembering and celebrating them.

Zichrono L'Vracha, Uncle Eddie.
Your memory is a blessing to me, and to those who hear your story.

Beet Salad

היום ארבעה וארבעים יומים שהם ששה שבועות ושני יומים לעמר
Today is the forty-fourth day of the omer - six weeks and two days
גבורה שבמלכת
A day of strength in a week of majesty


The air was cool but our souls were warmed by heartfelt davening at the services of the Beit Yakov/Gan Aliora Havurah. We celebrated the life of a loved one lost, marking the one year anniversary with remembrances--bringing laughter and tears.

And we shared food, our way of offering thanks to the community around us. I brought my beet salad, a dish that never fails to please--and today was no exception. I had a request to post the recipe so it can continue to be shared with others. I don't use exact measurements when making this dish, and there's a lot of room for variations. Aside from some key ingredients, what goes in depends on what I have on hand. Feel free to use what seems good to you....

Enjoy......

First of course, you need beets. Any kind will do, although I prefer the sweet chioggia beets, but the golden or standard red beets will be fine. Cut the tops if the greens are still on and put the beets in a pot and fill the pot with water. Bring the water to a boil, then cover and set to simmer. In about 30-45 minutes, depending on the size of the beets, they should be soft enough to easily run a knife through them. Drain the pot and fill with cold water to cool the beets a bit. When they're cool enough to handle, slip the skins off.

Cut the beets into approx. 1" cubes and put into a bowl. Chop 3 or 4 green onions and add that. Chopped red onion is also a good option.

You can then add any number of herbs--either fresh or dried. Today I used a handful of chopped cilantro and a handful chopped mint. Dill and parsley work as well. I often like to add some chopped celery for crunch, or may some chopped jicama. Wondering what to do with that can of bamboo shoots you bought months ago? This is a good place to use it.

I always add some sort of dried fruit--raisins, cranberries, chopped apricots. Add chopped nuts if you'd like.

The key ingredient in my beet salad is the chopped pickled ginger. This is now readily available--you can even get it at Safeway! I try to always have it on hand in my kitchen. Take a big pinch chopped fine and stir it into the mix. Season with salt and pepper.

Then stir in some raspberry vinaigrette. These days you can get this at most supermarkets in the salad dressing aisle. I know it's available at Trader Joes. If you don't have any, use orange juice and some vinegar. There are times I've also added some toasted sesame oil.

As you can see, this is far from a precise recipe. I don't give any exact amounts. Because it just depends on what I have and how it tastes. I tend to cook using the theory I learned from my mother. When you have enough good ingredients...."What could be bad??"

So now that I've given you the basics---just go for it.

Marking Time and Place

היום תשעה ושלשים יומים שהם חמשה שבועות ארבעה יומים לעמר
Today is the thirty-ninth day of the omer - five weeks and four days
נצח שביסוד
A day of endurance in a week of foundation

Just as there are the timeframes that mark the cycles of the year--secular, spiritual, agricultural--there are also the periods of time that mark the flow of life. While the former have a set place and time, the latter are more fluid and subject to change, determined by the life that is marked.

For instance, where I have lived, when I lived there, for how long, and for what percentage of my life marks not only what era I am in, but who I am in that era--as an adolescent, a teenager, an adult, middle-aged, an elder.


At this point, I've spent more years of my life in New York than in San Francisco. The majority of that time was spent in suburbia, but the eight years I lived in Manhattan as a young adult were formative. Even though I've lived in San Francisco for the past 23 years, few people I meet mistake me for anything but a New Yorker.

But the San Francisco years are catching up. As far as numbers go, it recently occurred to me that I have lived in this house longer than I've lived in any one place. And while in San Francisco I am still considered a New Yorker--in New York I often feel very much a San Franciscan.



Two years ago, in a blog post titled State of Origin, I wrote:

Am I a New Yorker or am I a San Franciscan? I suppose I can be both. But I'm still not sure what to answer when asked, "Where are you from??"

I look at that now, and wonder if the better question would be, "Where were you formed?" The answer would still include both, but with the ratio changing as the years go by, my 'formation' is in flux.

Birkat HaChammah - Blessing of the Sun - UPDATED TIME

Birkat HaChammah is one of those gems of Judiasm that I seem to discover every couple of years or so. Below is a copy of an email invitation I sent to some friends which gives the essence of the ritual. At the end of the email are some resource links to learn much more--and I encourage you to do so.

For those who are in San Francisco and looking for a service, here's the info . . .

On Wednesday morning, April 8, we as Jews will celebrate the end and beginning of the sun's cycle as it returns to it's makom, it's place at the time of creation. This little known--but getting more popular--Talmudic celebration occurs once every 28 years. In a somewhat unusual but somehow fitting convergence, this year it falls on Erev Pesach.

I invite you and anyone you think would be interested, to a Birkat HaChammah service on that Wednesday morning, April 8 at the top of Twin Peaks, taking in a full Eastern view. We will gather near the overlook, and there is plenty of parking, although I do encourage you to carpool if possible--or maybe even bike or walk if you are so inclined :) The Chabad of Noe Valley will have their service already in progress, so please be respectful of them. I will be there to find our place, so look for me. We will start to gather at 7a.m. -- I am thinking about some chanting and maybe movement as well--that part is still in formulation :) The Birkat HaChammah liturgy will start at 7:15 a.m., followed by a Shacharit service using the using the Makor Or siddur. Having never done this before, I can't say for sure, but I think the service will last no longer than an hour. For those who would like, we can adjourn afterwards to a cafe for coffee and our last bit of hamatz :)

Please let me know if you think you will be coming, and if you invite anyone and can let me know, that would be good as well. That way I can estimate how many service sheets and siddurim to make. There's plenty of parking on top of Twin Peaks. You get the the road up from Clarendon on one side and Portola on the other. Click here for a link to the Google map.

The big question is--will we see the sun, since seeing the sun is an important part of the ritual. I think that as long as it's not pouring, I'm going to be there. But I will post something on my blog by 6a.m. that morning, so you can check there. (For those of you who have noticed that I haven't written in a while--it's that time of the year when I "blog the omer" so be sure to check back starting April 10th and through to Shavuot.) You can find my blog at www.mdivah.blogspot.com

I realize many of you have many questions about this whole ritual. Rather than have me regurgitate information, below you'll see four good resources

http://www.blessthesun.org
I'm not sure who is behind this site, I think it might be rabbinical students, but it's got good overview and other information.

http://www.ritualwell.org/holidays/sitefolder.2008-09-16.5411107743/
Ritual Well is always a good place to check for both spiritual and practical takes on the holiday rituals. This page is no exception, with links to lots of articles and other resources.

http://climateofchange.wordpress.com/2009/03/02/birkhat-hahama-the-blessing-of-the-sun-2009/
An environmental view of the celebration. From their site: "We invite you to join us as we draw on Jewish sources and spirituality for wisdom to help shape changes in behavior, policy and consciousness in response to the challenge of global climate change."

http://www.shalomctr.org/node/1280
Not only will you learn about the celebration, but you will experience it through an essay Rabbi Arthur Waskow wrote on the occasion of the last Birkat HaChamah on April 8, 1981.

I'm looking forward to experiencing this with many of you.

Take care,

Marilyn

ps Yes, I realize that the down side is the first born males among us who need to attend a siyyum so they can eat that day may not be able to join us :( May you be around 28 years from now so we can celebrate again together :)

Sharing Torah Moments

This morning, exactly one week after I read Torah at the shiva minyan for Mitzi--I read Torah at the shiva minyan for Rabbi Lew. At the service for Mitzi, I gave a very short drash--call it a "drashlet"--based on a teaching I got from Rabbi Lew (the same one I used in the speech posted here in an earlier post).

Today, I shared a moment I had with Rabbi Lew one late-spring Saturday mincha. I was chanting Torah that day, and needed to roll the Torah to the correct spot--somewhere in Bamidbar/Numbers. As I perused the scrolls, looking for the start of the reading, Rabbi Lew leaned over and said:
"וידבר יי אל משה לאמר" "God spoke to Moshe and said"-
a phrase that starts the huge majority of paragraphs in that part of the Torah. It's a standard, geeky, Torah reader joke.


The love of Torah--reading, chanting, studying, holding, touching, breathing, even joking about Torah--is something I shared with Rabbi Lew.

I know that all who studied with Rabbi Lew will continue to pass his teachings to the next generations.



The photos posted here are from a Makor Retreat in August, 2002.

One step at a time

One thing about Jewish practice is that for all the parts of it that are hard to access, we do well with the process of mourning and grief. Losing both Mitzi and Rabbi Lew in the space of a week has weighed very heavy on my soul, but it's good to have rituals and a community for support.

With Mitzi, the grief is a bit easier to deal with - our close relationship and all the time I spent with her in this past year makes me miss her alot but also gives me comfort. With Rabbi Lew it's more complicated. He gave me so much, taught me so much, yet also was the source of some anger. I have been releasing that anger over the past months, and we had some very precious, close moments with each other during this year. So at least I'm spared the guilt I might have felt if this happened just a year or so past.

It's still alot to deal with, but because of my teachers--Rabbi Lew, Norman Fischer, Susannah Bruder--I know to keep moving forward, one step at a time. I also know that we need to feel the pain in order to go beyond it. For if there were no emotion, there would be no love. And while the physical bodies may be gone, the love remains, stays with us, and helps us grow.

Radiant is the World Soul

In a few hours we will welcome Shabbat. It's a Shabbat that will feel diminished with the loss of a true tzaddik, Rabbi Alan Lew. To honor his spirit, I share a poem from a tzaddik of the past generation, Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook. It reminds me how much Rabbi Lew's teachings touched my soul, and as well as the souls of many others in the world.

Shabbat Shalom

Radiant is the World Soul

Radiant is the world soul,
Full of splendor and beauty.
Full of life,
Of souls hidden,
Of treasures of the holy spirit,
Of fountains of strength,
Of greatness and beauty.
Proudly I ascend
Toward the heights of the world soul
That gives life to the universe.
How majestic the vision - Come, enjoy,
Come, find peace,
Embrace delight,
Taste and see that God is good.
Why spend your substance on what does not nourish
And your labor on what cannot satisfy?
Listen to me, and you will enjoy what is good,
And find delight in what is truly precious.

--Rav Abraham Isaac Kook

Shomer Scarf

I just finished my time as shomer for Rabbi Lew. Part of the Jewish burial ritual is to make sure that there is always someone sitting, watching over the body until the time of the funeral. It is important that the body not be left alone at this time. I see it as a way we can accompany our loved one in this last part of their journey on this earth. It gives us a way to honor someone, hold them close before we have to let go.

It is traditional to read Psalms during this time. We arranged for the shomerim in shifts, and many read Norman Fischer's "Opening to You," his interpretations of the Psalms. Norman is Rabbi Lew's closest friend--they traveled many of the life's paths together--the Iowa Writing program, the Zen Center, Makor Or. Norman was also a shomer, taking these last steps with Rabbi Lew.

I read Psalms, chanted Torah, shared some other writings. But mostly I just sat in silence-sometimes in meditation, sometimes having conversations with Rabbi Lew in my head. Because I had the overnight shift, 8P - 8A, there was lots of time. I also brought a skein of yarn and crocheted. I started a scarf--a pattern I have recently developed, something I can do without too much thinking. It's a spiral pattern, which felt appropriate as a spiritual metaphor for the teachings Rabbi Lew has given me. The scarf is crocheted lengthwise, and I chose to make it 108 stitches long. 108 is a spiritual number in many traditions. Eighteen is the number that represents chai, life, in Judaism. 108 is 6 X 18--Rabbi Lew had completed six decades of life, with the seventh unfinished. The Buddhists ring bells 108 for the New Year. It's also a sacred number to the Hindus. And it happens to be the number of stitches on a baseball--another spiritual pursuit of Rabbi Lew.

In the midst of the last row of the scarf, I ran out of yarn. Somehow, that seemed right. For loss of Rabbi Lew leaves many of us feeling incomplete. He left us far too soon; he had so much more to teach us. But we will continue the teachings he left us--in deed and in study. We will pass them on to the generations ahead. His life, like the scarf, may have been cut short before it's time, but his memory and his light will shine on for many years to come.

Zichrono Le'vracha

Rabbi Alan Lew - Baruch Dayan HaEmet

Rabbi Alan Lew, zichrono le'vracha, died today. It's hard to grasp that reality.

In his memory, I share these words I spoke on the occasion of his retirement from Beth Sholom in June, 2005.


Ernie Newbrun has spoken to you this evening of the depth of Rabbi Lew's teaching, and the effect it has had on all of us who who are his students. One of my favorite teachings of his, one that comes up for me again and again, is his teaching from the 15th century commentator Don Isaac Abravanel, in his description of the chumash, the 5 books of Moshe, as a blueprint for a spiritual life. As I was thinking what I was going to say this evening, I realized this teaching also serves as an example of our community, and the gifts that Rabbi Lew has brought us.

Bereshit, Genesis, represents the personal spiritual seeking, ending in a leave-taking. For many of us here, that spiritally seeking leave-taking brought us to Beth Sholom. At Beth Sholom we found not only ritually rich Judaism, but a Rabbi who could speak to that seeking spirit within us.

Shemot, Exodus, represents Revelation, and the beginning of community. With the founding of Makor Or, Rabbi Lew recognized the need for a community where meditation and Jewish spiritual activity are done in combination. For experienced meditators who happen to be Jewish, the meditation practice at Makor Or brings refreshed connections to a religion they had basically left behind. For those like me, familiar and comfortable with Jewish practice but looking for a deeper connection, Makor Or brings a place to experience meditation in a environment with no foreign icons to block out. Rabbi Lew has made all of that possible. For those of us who have participated in Makor Or, Rabbi Lew has been there to guide us when meditation brings to fore our inner angst. And connecting sitting meditation to prayer has brought a deeper appreciation for both activities.

Which brings me to Vayikra, Leviticus, representing the actual practice. The practice of Judaism is not easy in this world, and especially in this town. We eat differently, our holidays are always at times that conflict with the outside world, we have to learn a whole different language to participate in prayer. Yet here at Beth Sholom, we embrace the traditions, even to the extent of reading the entire Torah parsha each week, something becoming increasingly unique in the Conservative Jewish world. But rather than water down the rituals, Rabbi Lew inspires us to look to the deeper meanings of the practice, helps us see why they are there and what they can bring to us.

And that's how Abravanel catagorizes Bamidbar, Numbers, the book we very fittingly start this Shabbat. Bamidbar is about bringing the practice into our lives. And that is where, I think, we owe a debt of gratitude to Rabbi Lew. For he has made it his mission to share with all of us his love of Judaism and the deep spiritual sense it has brought to his life. That's what makes his sermons so special—he doesn't just talk it, he walks it. He doesn't just teach about the benefits of meditating, he's there at 6 a.m. He doesn't just preach the importance of keeping our minyan vibrant, he participates fully. He finds ways to reach us all.

As a case in point, I looked to one of my favorite sermons of his, one given Rosh Hashanah 5760, in 1999, just before I became a member. It's a sermon that demonstrates why we're here, filled with respect and love and honor for Rabbi Lew.

He first sets a scene of a news crew filming meditation—"Apparently, this is a thing of great amazement – a bunch of Jews sitting in the room without talking; quick, get the cameras! Let's run this on the 6 o'clock news." They also film minyan. His description of minyan focuses on the time-honored Beth Sholom tradition of saying "Yasher Koach" – loosely translated, may the force be with you -- to everyone who participates in the slightest manner. Why do we do this? "We are congratulating you because of all the places you could have put your energy in this world, of all the forces you could have aligned your force with, you freely chose to be here, to put your energy here, to align yourself with the three thousand year old stream of spiritual energy we call Judaism"

Later in the sermon, Rabbi Lew goes on to relate that "Yasher Koach" moment to a moment in this country that demonstrated that same spiritual achievement — that moment in 1995 when Cal Ripken, shortstop for the Baltimore Orioles, played in 2,131 straight games, breaking Lou Gherig's record. Besides fullfilling the insight of his teacher Louis Finkelstein who said (according to Rabbi Lew) "you can't be an American Rabbi unless you know baseball" Rabbi Lew understood that this acheivement of being present and showing up each day made the difference in a world that doesn't always show up as we would wish. Rabbi Lew said "simple human presence – simply being present, simply persisting in being here – has tremendous spiritual power, It has the power to heal. It has the power to nurture."

Rabbi Lew has been here for us, nurturing us, being present for us, for 14 years. From all of us I say thank you, and "Yasher Koach."

Gains and Losses and Growth

On this birthday I thought I'd share some early photos. Can you see me in them? Even I have problems recognizing that little girl, although there are some clues that prove that both girls undeniably me.

In the black and white photo, you can see that I've got one sock up and one sock down--something of an inadvertent trademark for me in my younger days :) As for the color photo....me, dancing? I guess some things never change.......


Earlier this year I wrote about some early memories. But there's no denying that as I get older, spanning more years, there are only so many memories I can retain. Maybe that's just the way we're made, with a limited allotment of brain space for memories. When we're younger, there's plenty of room for all our memories. As we add more and more, reaching the limit of our storage space, we need to lose some of what was saved to make room for the new.

While aging brings this loss in life memories, we gain perspectives on life--perspectives that are only possible from the vantage point of years. As I wrote last week, I'm not sure it makes us see any clearer than before. But while it feels strange to say it, I do feel somehow wiser. I don't know that I act any wiser on a personal level--that's a function of an entirely different part of the brain. But there is a kind of clairvoyant aspect to looking at a person or a situation through years of experience.

Today I turn 54. Last year I questioned whether or not I was entering the prime of my life. Perhaps the key to the answer lies in figuring out what that means. The wisdom gained within needs to manifest itself without. And as I reach out to others, I can continually grow within. Most important, I must always remember that life is not about the goal, it's about the journey.

Happy Birthday to me

All best wishes joyfully accepted

Nathan the Prophet

Today was the birthday party for my friend and July 16th birthday buddy, Nathan Mass (you can read more about him here and here). But as I'm still analyzing this journey into the "elder" part of my life, Nathan is already there--in spades. Wednesday will mark his 102nd birthday.

Nathan told us that he was talking with God--" the guy up there"-- and God told him, "Nathan, it's not your time yet. I'm not ready for you just now, so keep going." I assure you this is not the ravings of a lunatic. Nathan is very present. He's quite witty and charming--and knows it. He also loves life, and this could be his way of telling us he's fine being around this long and longer.

Then again, he could actually be conversing with God. I, for one, would believe it. After all, he very well could be the one who, like Moses (who also spoke with God) , will be chosen to make it to 120.

Happy Birthday, Nathan!!
Prophet or not, I'm honored to spend time with you.