The blessing that is Aviva Zornberg

היום תשעה עשר יום שהם שני שבועות וחמשה ימים בעמר
Today is nineteen days--that is two weeks and five days--of the omer
הוד שתפארת
A day of humility in a week of compassion

As mentioned yesterday, I've spent time this week learning from one of the premier biblical scholars of our time, Dr. Aviva Zornberg. It was amazing to be lead through the journey of Moses' life, both within each of the four teaching sessions and on the path from session to session--from his birth to his death. There's so much to absorb, processing the meanings contained in the trajectory of Moses' growth within himself, his complicated relationship with the Israelite people, and his intimate, but sometimes difficult connection with God.

But as special as having this time with this incredible teacher was to also get a chance to hear a bit about her life and how she came to this calling. She had a religious upbringing in Scotland, the daughter of Holocaust survivors. Her father became her teacher from an early age, passing his knowledge and wisdom of Tanach. Aviva admitted that she might have benefitted from the fact that she had no brothers, something that is certainly our gain :) She said she teaches in his lecture style, which is how she is able to take us on these 45 minute journeys in Torah, weaving in so much content but never losing her way. 

I got to ask her if she ever took into account the voice of who wrote the various parts of the Tanach, or the layer that the Masorite scribes added to the writing as they cemented the pronunciations and patterns of the chant. She said no, neither of those factors concerned her. She looks to what the text speaks to her, looking at what is there, accepting its inspired sacredness.

Throughout these teachings with this small group, she gave us glimpses of her life. She noted that, feeling the intimacy of the moments. It was such a blessing to learn from and with her, and it was time I will cherish.

Murmerings

היום שמונה עשר יום שהם שני שבועות וארבעה ימים בעמר
Today is eighteen days--that is two weeks and four days--of the omer
נכח שתפארת
A day of perseverance in a week of compassion

It's the chai day of the omer--eighteen days, חי. Those letters that add up to 18 make up the word for life.

I spent this chai day holding fast to the etz chaim, the tree of life, the Torah with a day of learning from the amazing biblical scholar, Aviva Zornberg. There's so much to process, too much to write about at this point. I will say that this study of Moses and redemption that is the theme of these three days of learning has a sub thread on what it is to be heard, what it is we hear, what we need to hear, and how we listen.

There is much more, but that will be revealed in the days, or weeks, to come.

Self compassion

היום שבעה עשר יום שהם שני שבועות ושלשה ימים בעמר
Today is seventeen days--that is two weeks and three days--of the omer
תפארת שתפארת
A day of compassion in a week of compassion

On this day of double compassion I'm giving myself a break

It's all about the balance

היום ששה עשר יום שהם שני שבועות ושני ימים בעמר
Today is sixteen days--that is two weeks and two days--of the omer
גבורה שתפארת
A day of strength in a week of compassion

A post about balance from 2011. An ongoing issue in my life . . . 
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Which brings up the issue of practice in one's life--how to set priorities, how to find balance. I work in a business that can be 24/7, depending on the specifics of the job. When I began to take on Jewish practice, Shabbat was the first observance I took on. It was interesting to watch my non-Jewish clients be very respectful of my stand to not work on Saturdays, while the Jews couldn't figure out why I was keeping to what they considered to be an anachronistic ritual. But it felt good to stop each week no matter what was happening around me--to make a stand for my time to pray, to rest, to revitalize--body and soul.

This practice of blogging the omer is not as concrete as keeping kosher or not working on Shabbat. It is a practice that is particular to me, not a tribal custom. Yet it has its own importance and needs to be honored. And so I carve out some time during the day to write, time that could and maybe should be spent on other things that would be more productive and/or more lucrative.

Keeping to a practice has its own rewards that are not always apparent in the moment. That is certainly true during this omer period. I can say that I am learning that finding balance is not always dependent on equality of time. It's more like the balance of a board on a point--its balance come from equal weight on each side. But sometimes, when the weight is unequal, you just need to move the fulcrum.

The prophesy of dry bones lives

היום חמשה עשר יום שהם שני שבועות ויום אחד בעמר
Today is fifteen days--that is two weeks and one day--of the omer
חסד שתפארת
A day of loving kindness in a week of compassion

A teaching from 2007 that touched me--one I continue to teach today. There are those that think I'm crazy, but I see this prophesy coming alive.

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Yesterday was the Shabbat between Yom HaShoah - a day of remembrance for all those lost in the Holocaust - and Yom HaAtzmaut - a day commemorating the 1948 formation of the State of Israel. Because of this, Rabbi Moshe Levin of Ner Tamid chose to change the haftarah that is traditionally read for the Torah parsha Tazria-Metzorah. Instead, the haftarah that we read on the Shabbat HolHamoed Pesach - the Shabbat in the midst of Passover - Ezekiel 36:37 - 37:14, known as the "Dry Bones" story. He felt that reading was much more appropriate to the Shabbat linking Yom HaShoah to Yom HaAtzmaut. Reading that story, I totally agree with him, and think it's a change that should be made at Beth Sholom when we are back together next year in our new synagogue building.

The amazing thing about reading that haftarah this past Shabbat was seeing the prophesy of Ezekiel fulfilled with the survival of Judaism after the holocaust and the birth of the Jewish homeland. The imagery couldn't be more appropriate and the words more direct. Ezekiel tells of his vision in which God takes him to a valley of dry bones. God says to those bones: "I will lay sinews upon you, and cover you with flesh, and form skin over you. And I will put breath into you, and you shall live again" (37:6). And so it comes to pass:

"The breath entered them, and they came to life and stood up on their feet, a vast multitude. And God said to me, "O mortal, these bones are the whole House of Israel. They say, 'Our bones are dried up, our hope is gone; we are doomed.' Prophesy, therefore, and say to them: Thus said Adonai, your God: I am going to open your graves and lift you out of the graves, O My people, and bring you to the land of Israel. You shall know, O My people, that I am Adonai, when I have opened your graves and lifted you out of your graves. I will put My breath into you and you shall live again, and I will set you upon your own soil. Then you shall know that I, Adonai, have spoken and have acted" (37:10-14)

Read it again and let it all sink in. Hope is gone, dried up like those bones. But just as those lifted from the graves, hope rises from the ashes of the Holocaust as our people are brought to a land that can be called ours - the State of Israel. All our displaced people can now find their way home.

A prophesy written before the common era fulfilled in the 20th century. While I find this somewhat chilling, it also helps me confirm my faith in my Jewish tradition.

The leadership of my students gives me strength

היום ארבעה עשר יום שהם שני שבועות בעמר
Today is fourteen days--that is two weeks--of the omer
מלכות שבגבורה
A day of leadership in a week of strength

As we end this second week of the omer, I gain strength from the leadership potential of the next generation.

This afternoon I went to see Dance Brigade's Grrrl Brigade perform. "What is that?" you ask.  On their web page, you'll see:

"The GRRRL Brigade is an intensive dance/leadership development program designed to provide high quality dance training, performance opportunities, and a sense of self-empowerment for San Francisco's girls ages 9 to 18. Our goal is to give the girls, their parents, and our audience the inspiration, magic, and hope only evocative dance theater can spark in creating a just and peaceful world."

What I can say is "Wow......" Their expression of the environmental and social impact that climate change is and and will continue to have on our world, on THEIR world, through dance and drum and spoken word, was powerful. These girls have a mindfulness that they are not alone in this world, that we need to work together to create. They use fully use body & soul as their voice to bring this mindfulness to us. As long as their vision stays strong, there is hope.

And then I got an email from a student who is applying for a Jewish Teen Foundation. This touched me on two levels. First, that he feels the pull to participate in the program--connecting the values of the Jewish people with a need to make a difference; fulfilling the precept of tikun olam, repair of the world. At his bar mitzvah, he taught about the need to protect the land. Perhaps that had an influence on his decision to pursue this fellowship.

And then there is the personal level that touched me. He wrote:  ". . . they asked for someone as a reference that could speak about my character. One of the examples they gave was a religious leader, so I put your name down and contact information down." What can I say :)  For all my whining about not being a rabbi, not able to get respect on that level---my students know, to them, I am their rabbi.

A perfect message to end to this day of leadership and strength.

Finding the foundation of strength

היום שלשה עשר יום שהם שבוע אחד וששה ימים בעמר
Today is thirteen days--that is one week and six days--of the omer
יסוד שבגבורה
A day of foundation in a week of strength

In this writing from the omer count of 2007, I wrote of how I began this practice that has become so foundational for me, and how the count and the sephirot and my life converged to give me an important lesson in strength.
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I started my practice of counting the omer in 2000. I attended a series of three workshops at P'nai Or run by the Jewish Renewal Life Center in Philadelphia. The second of the workshops took place before Pesach. The weekend was centered around studying different aspects of Jewish ritual with Rabbi Marcia Prager, Rabbi Arthur Waskow, and Rabbi Phyllis Berman. It was there that I learned to count using the sephirot, giving me the spiritual hit that led me to work with this ancient practice in my modern life. Like the study of Torah, it is one of those practices that will sustain me for the rest of my life.

The counting of 2002--5762--had special significance for me. That was the year of my treatment for breast cancer. My chemotherapy started on the first of Nissan. My last infusion was on the 49th day of the omer. The counting that year had an added importance. It allowed me to avoid the tendancy to count those difficult days as a prisoner tracking her time of internment. Instead, I could use the seven attributes to support me through my illness.

It was Gevurah-the sephirot of strength-that resonated most deeply with me that year. So often the symbol of strength is a closed fist. But that year I learned how much strength there is in an outstretched, open palm. It is very difficult for many otherwise self-sufficient cancer patients to rely on others for help. But there are so many people around you at that time who want to help. The ability to ask for and accept the help you need represents a strength as great, if not greater, than any boxer's punch. That is a lesson of Gevurah that stays with me to this day.

Silence is not an option . . .

היום  שנים עשר יום שהם שבוע אחד וחמשה ימים בעמר
Today is twelve days--that is one week and five days--of the omer
הוד שבגבורה
A day of humility in a week of strength


Today is Yom Hashoah - a day we make a point to remember that the Holocaust happened.
A reminder that the perfect storm of an evil demagogue meeting devastating economic conditions within a demoralized population. 
There are many of us for whom this is personal,
and there is the global lesson that must be learned.
We are responsible for others--we must stand up to the bully.
If more people stood up, those 6 million plus would not be lost.
The stakes now may be different....maybe not.
But we all must stand up and not remain silent.

If not now, when . . .

Practicing Prayer, Voicing Fears

היום  אחד עשר יום שהם שבוע אחד וארבעה ימים בעמר
Today is eleven days--that is one week and four days--of the omer
נצח שבגבורה
A day of perseverance in a week of strength

The practice of prayer is often hard to connect with, especially when the words are in a language you can neither read nor understand. That is the challenge of Jewish prayer, which has been an integral part of my spiritual practice for more than 15 years. It is a process that involves work, continual work, navigating through the different layers at different moments. That is what makes it a lifetime practice, for it's a ever changing relationship.

Part of the liturgy of the Jewish morning prayer service is the psalm of the day--one more way we, as Jews, measure time. Each psalm can give an intention for each day as we move through the week. What that intention is, like many of our rituals, open to interpretation.

The psalms for Tuesday and Wednesday have spoken to me these past years, giving a voice to my fears for the world:

"How long will you judge unjustly, giving face to the wicked!"Psalm 82:2  

"How long, Adonai, will the wicked - the wicked exhalt!"Psalm 94:3

This year, those fears are intensified for this country, and remaining silent is not an option--we must all raise our voices with these words, or those of our own, to truly live the words that I grew up hearing, that I saw on the wall at Yad Vashem:

Donald Trump CANNOT be elected President of the United States

היום עשרה ימים שהם שבוע אחד ושלשה ימים בעמר
Today is ten days--that is one week and three days--of the omer
תפארת שבגבורה
A day of compassion in a week of strength

I'm not ready to spill it all out here, now. I have kept this blog clear so far of the election process--that will not last long. This is what I posted on Facebook today, to be heeded by anyone who comes by here as well.

Donald Trump CANNOT be elected President of the United States. Wherever you stand, please remember where you live. Keep working for your ideals, find ways to take a stand--that is the true American way, born out of revolution. There is a reason we have a three-pronged system, let's not lose site of needing the other legs as well. Because, above all---
Donald Trump CANNOT be elected President of the United States.


Yes....I'm very scared.........

Once a New Yorker . . .

היום תשעה ימים שהם שבוע אחד ושני ימים בעמר
Today is nine days--that is one week and two days--of the omer
גבורה שבגבורה
A day of strength in a week of strength

April 1 was the 30th anniversary of my move to San Francisco from New York City. Three years ago, I shared these thoughts in honor of the occasion.
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Even after 27 years in San Francisco, I'm still identified as a New Yorker. One of my 6th grade Sunday School students busted me on this the second time I taught the class--"Marilyn, are you from New York?" When I replied in the affirmative, he said, "I knew it--you sound just like my grandmother!" Okay, the grandmother reference gave me a jolt, but I do know what he means. While I'm not sure about having an accent, there's definitely an attitude, a very direct way of speaking that is an integral part of who I am.

I've tried different looks--even went platinum blond for a year or so. With that look, my family, including my mother, did not recognize me. My 90+ year old grandmother thought I looked very Californian. But as you may see in the photo to the right, my New York-ness still comes through.



I think of myself as a hybrid. I'll never shed my New York persona, nor do I want to. It's as much a part of me as my Ashkenazic Jewish soul. And the Californian part of me is pure San Franciscan, which brings its own set of chauvinistic characteristics. I would say that both places consider themselves food capitals, so I'm lucky to be able to claim them both.

So I stand with a foot on each coast, the sum somewhat greater than the whole. No matter which coast I'm associated with, I am definitely a city girl. In San Francisco that means I have acquired some keen parking skills, as demonstrated by the photo below. Yes, I maneuvered into that spot which as you can see, had little room to spare. And both front and back vehicles were still there when I returned. I will tell you that getting out was easier than getting in, but both were accomplished without too much back and forth :)

Turning point

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

Reading previous omer writings, I get to connect to thoughts from another time in my life with a perspective of today. Below is a post from May 2011, just before I discovered the existence of The Kitchen. It captures a moment of realization on my path that lead me to where I am today.
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For the past few years, I've been pondering the statement I hear often from friends, "I don't believe in organized religion." It's often said as part of a discussion as to why I have taken on a Jewish spiritual practice. Sometimes I respond in a joking manner, "Have you read nothing about the different factions within Judaism? There's nothing very organized about the religion :)"

But as I get deeper into my practice in this time and space, I understand that statement more and more, as I affiliate with the "official" Jewish organizations less and less. While I belong to a synagogue that is fiercely egalitarian, where women and men have equal footing in ritual practice, the movement with which it is affiliated, the Conservative Movement, won't take an unequivocal stand on that issue. At the synagogue that I grew up in, located on Long Island in New York, women still can't chant Torah, and if I were to attend their weekday minyan, I would not count as one of the ten needed to say kaddish. Yet they are also affiliated with the Conservative Movement, so my synagogue dues help support them.

The Groucho Marx line keeps going through my head, "I don't want to belong to a club that would have me as a member." They want me as a member, but I don't fully belong. While some members would embrace me and my practice, others would block me from fulfilling roles important to that practice. And the big organization that is supposed to support me still won't make a full commitment to egalitarian ritual practice in the name of not upsetting some of their members. I guess I don't matter too much to them, since upsetting me and others like me is okay.

Not a very uplifting message for the day, but one that I must continue to bring up and ponder--not just for myself, but for future generations of Jewish women.