Rabbi Irwin Wiener, D.D.
At the moment of his death, the Ba’al Shem Tov said, “Now I know why I was created.” The profoundness of this declaration gives us a glimpse into an intense understanding of life.
We know that we are born to die but what we do with the in-between contains the sum total of our worth and significance. The in-between involves so much pain and healing, so much conflict and resolution, so much joy and sorrow. Sometimes we wonder about the value of life itself.
These thoughts and more were part of my experience as I witnessed a loved one melt into another world, another dimension. Losing someone we love and cherish is, to say the least, an episode in anguish and turmoil. Losing someone we love can also be inspirational even when our grief is beyond expression.
There lived a woman named Anita. She was a daughter, a sister, a wife and a mother. And she was all those things and more in just forty-one years. That is a lot of existence in so short a period of time. But she accomplished this with dignity and grace. And she ended her days in this same state of elegance that was the hallmark of her sojourn here on Earth.
My heart ached watching her suffer and go through endless ordeals in futile attempts to gain time and hopefully to find some magical cure. She travelled great distances in search of that elusive relief.
Her children, siblings and mother, all lived this nightmare with us. Some were able to cope and support, some were tortured by her suffering. I learned a great deal from this experience, not only as a husband, but also as a person of faith. I counseled many people over the years on how to cope with adversity and now, when faced with the same ordeal, found no consolation in my words.
I turned inward. I functioned as a parent and a cleric, but it was as though I were going through these exercises in a state of disconnection. All seemed lost to the point where I even doubted who I was and what I was doing. Despair and depression set in like it found a home to rest and be nurtured.
One day I found myself reaching for a book in my library. The book I touched and began to fondle was Psalms. I opened the page to the twenty-third Psalm as I did for so many others who looked to me for comfort and solace. This time, however, I studied each word and looked for meanings that were not apparent to me before.
I found one particular sentence which reads: Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil.” For the first time I realized what the Psalmist was trying to relate. He talks about walking through the valley of death, not to the valley of death. I read it over and over again and appreciated that even though we suffer tragic losses in our lives, we need to understand that passing through these terrible episodes gives us the ability to continuing living.
She was a noble woman; in fact she was ennobling because of her demeanor and fortitude. She fought the valiant fight and she lost. But she lost with dignity and for that I came to understand an even greater feeling of connection to my Creator. I knew in an instant after reading this Psalm that sometimes we lose someone we love, someone who has an immense impact on our lives, and we wonder about it all, but the we realize that having known this person can make us stronger.
Her legacy may not be written in books but it is imbedded in how I live my life and how I treat others who look to me for understanding and compassion. Her legacy will be written on a little stone in a cemetery that indicates there once was a woman named Anita who lived, loved, laughed, cried and died. Her reward will be that which only God can give, the gift of life everlasting. She deserves no less.
I finally realized that God, in His infinite mercy, reached out to bring her soul to His bosom in eternal gratitude for a life well spent that contained mercy and forgiveness. Those thoughts help me, to this very day, twenty-eight years later, know that faith is dependent on knowing that there are things in life over which we have no control. But we have an obligation to live to the fullest and appreciate those who travel that road of life with us as well.
I now understand what the Ba"al Shem Tov meant and that from Anita's death I learned the profound meaning of her life.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Reform Vs. Conform
Rabbi Irwin Wiener, D.D.
According to Webster’s Dictionary, reform means to improve or to change something for the better. And thumbing through the pages of this very same dictionary we stop at the word conform, and we learn that its meaning is to make or become similar; to be in agreement. These meanings, to me, indicate the turbulent storm that has erupted in the Judaism’s Reform Movement.
On the one hand Reform Judaism was designed to give meaning to today’s world. And today’s world includes yesterday, today and tomorrow. As the world turns so does our understanding of its purpose and significance. The understandings of yesterday do not fit neatly into the world we live in today.
Yesterday contained no computers or space travel. Yesterday was filled with disasters that boggle the imagination. Yesterday was good for one thing: To bring us to today with all the new discoveries and means to adapt these revelations to life as experienced right now.
Today we accept modernization and experimentation as a way of life not a figment of some dark corner of the mind that has taken us to sinister places. Today we know that the vastness of the universe reminds us that the ability to accomplish things is as endless as time and space.
We have learned through trial and error that we are not committing sins of omission but rather methods by which growth can be maintained. We are not destroying the fabric of human existence but rather enhancing its possibilities. Growth can only be maintained with continuous speculation.
Reform Judaism understood that the past is an essential ingredient in reaching for the future. You cannot assume to know the goodness or proficiencies of human endurance without regard for the past.
I, certainly, am not an expert on Reform Judaism. Nor am I a participant in its deliberations and pronouncements. What I do know of it I learned from experience and from books. But what I extracted from all the research and living as a Reform Jew and Reform rabbi was one vital fact: Reform Judaism was created to bridge the gap between traditionalism and secularism. Having been trained in traditional Judaism enables me to fully appreciate the value of Reform Judaism’s approach to the universal understanding of God.
Reform Judaism’s most potent weapon was a small word, inclusion. It understood that Judaism could not and would not continue to grow and develop if it remained in a vacuum. Telling fellow Jews that if they did not fit into a narrow definition of religious completion that they would forever be isolated was an enigma.
Reform Judaism teaches that there is no value to Judaism if it does not seem relevant or necessary in every day life. Where is the future of the Jewish People if we live only in the past without trying to reach for the present and the future? That is the underlying characteristic that makes Reform Judaism important for the continuity of the generations and the perpetuation of a dream that began with a man called Abraham.
Even the rabbis of the Talmud were forever engaged in making Judaism relevant for their generation. There are constant references to the learning centers of Bait Hillel and Bait Shammai, the House of Hillel and the House of Shammai. Shammai was considered more rigid and inflexible while Hillel was more liberal in the transmission of religious thought and its interpretation. Reform Judaism follows the standard set by Talmudic expression and relates to this definition of relevancy.
On the other hand I have noticed a resurgence of traditional expressions in Reform Judaism. I have always marveled at the somewhat intimidated attitude that can be found among Reform rabbis. It is as though they consider themselves inferior to their more traditional counterparts. They are more deferential to Jews who profess to be true Torah adherents. Perhaps some think that they are not legitimate and therefore must resort to introducing a different kind of Jewish acceptance.
Inclusion, which was the hallmark of Reform Judaism, has been replaced by exclusion. Tampering with traditional attitudes now seems to be a repudiation of religious living. We see Reform congregations building Mikvehs (ritual baths) for conversion or other purposes. We find Reform rabbis refusing to participate in interfaith marriages.
When people reach out and our hand is not there to take theirs, what have we done? Alienation is not the road to acceptance. If Judaism is to remain vibrant and relevant then we need to be as inclusive as we possibly can, not to dilute but to be an example. To teach that even today Shammai is still relegated to the next world as described in the Talmud. To make clear that Hillel is the path to involvement and continuation.
Perhaps when Reform rabbis feel secure in who they are we too will feel comfortable in Reform Jewish fervor. If our people are not afraid to identify, in whatever form, why should we Reform rabbis tell them to change or be sidelined?
Are we reformists or conformists? That is the question. It should be a continuing debate that should be in the forefront of attempting to bring relevance to an ancient faith that deserves better than excluding many of its adherents. I wonder if the Conservative Movement realizes that the Reform Movement is the new you!
There is a classic story about a man coming to the saintly Sage, the Ba’al Shem Tov and remarked that his son had abandoned God. In desperation the man asked, “What shall I do, Rabbi?” And the Ba’al Shem Tov answered, “Love him even more than ever.” Is that not what the founders of Reform Judaism going back to Spinoza had in mind when they sat and determined that the future of Judaism was not only in yesterday but in today which will guarantee tomorrow? Which will it be reform or conform?
According to Webster’s Dictionary, reform means to improve or to change something for the better. And thumbing through the pages of this very same dictionary we stop at the word conform, and we learn that its meaning is to make or become similar; to be in agreement. These meanings, to me, indicate the turbulent storm that has erupted in the Judaism’s Reform Movement.
On the one hand Reform Judaism was designed to give meaning to today’s world. And today’s world includes yesterday, today and tomorrow. As the world turns so does our understanding of its purpose and significance. The understandings of yesterday do not fit neatly into the world we live in today.
Yesterday contained no computers or space travel. Yesterday was filled with disasters that boggle the imagination. Yesterday was good for one thing: To bring us to today with all the new discoveries and means to adapt these revelations to life as experienced right now.
Today we accept modernization and experimentation as a way of life not a figment of some dark corner of the mind that has taken us to sinister places. Today we know that the vastness of the universe reminds us that the ability to accomplish things is as endless as time and space.
We have learned through trial and error that we are not committing sins of omission but rather methods by which growth can be maintained. We are not destroying the fabric of human existence but rather enhancing its possibilities. Growth can only be maintained with continuous speculation.
Reform Judaism understood that the past is an essential ingredient in reaching for the future. You cannot assume to know the goodness or proficiencies of human endurance without regard for the past.
I, certainly, am not an expert on Reform Judaism. Nor am I a participant in its deliberations and pronouncements. What I do know of it I learned from experience and from books. But what I extracted from all the research and living as a Reform Jew and Reform rabbi was one vital fact: Reform Judaism was created to bridge the gap between traditionalism and secularism. Having been trained in traditional Judaism enables me to fully appreciate the value of Reform Judaism’s approach to the universal understanding of God.
Reform Judaism’s most potent weapon was a small word, inclusion. It understood that Judaism could not and would not continue to grow and develop if it remained in a vacuum. Telling fellow Jews that if they did not fit into a narrow definition of religious completion that they would forever be isolated was an enigma.
Reform Judaism teaches that there is no value to Judaism if it does not seem relevant or necessary in every day life. Where is the future of the Jewish People if we live only in the past without trying to reach for the present and the future? That is the underlying characteristic that makes Reform Judaism important for the continuity of the generations and the perpetuation of a dream that began with a man called Abraham.
Even the rabbis of the Talmud were forever engaged in making Judaism relevant for their generation. There are constant references to the learning centers of Bait Hillel and Bait Shammai, the House of Hillel and the House of Shammai. Shammai was considered more rigid and inflexible while Hillel was more liberal in the transmission of religious thought and its interpretation. Reform Judaism follows the standard set by Talmudic expression and relates to this definition of relevancy.
On the other hand I have noticed a resurgence of traditional expressions in Reform Judaism. I have always marveled at the somewhat intimidated attitude that can be found among Reform rabbis. It is as though they consider themselves inferior to their more traditional counterparts. They are more deferential to Jews who profess to be true Torah adherents. Perhaps some think that they are not legitimate and therefore must resort to introducing a different kind of Jewish acceptance.
Inclusion, which was the hallmark of Reform Judaism, has been replaced by exclusion. Tampering with traditional attitudes now seems to be a repudiation of religious living. We see Reform congregations building Mikvehs (ritual baths) for conversion or other purposes. We find Reform rabbis refusing to participate in interfaith marriages.
When people reach out and our hand is not there to take theirs, what have we done? Alienation is not the road to acceptance. If Judaism is to remain vibrant and relevant then we need to be as inclusive as we possibly can, not to dilute but to be an example. To teach that even today Shammai is still relegated to the next world as described in the Talmud. To make clear that Hillel is the path to involvement and continuation.
Perhaps when Reform rabbis feel secure in who they are we too will feel comfortable in Reform Jewish fervor. If our people are not afraid to identify, in whatever form, why should we Reform rabbis tell them to change or be sidelined?
Are we reformists or conformists? That is the question. It should be a continuing debate that should be in the forefront of attempting to bring relevance to an ancient faith that deserves better than excluding many of its adherents. I wonder if the Conservative Movement realizes that the Reform Movement is the new you!
There is a classic story about a man coming to the saintly Sage, the Ba’al Shem Tov and remarked that his son had abandoned God. In desperation the man asked, “What shall I do, Rabbi?” And the Ba’al Shem Tov answered, “Love him even more than ever.” Is that not what the founders of Reform Judaism going back to Spinoza had in mind when they sat and determined that the future of Judaism was not only in yesterday but in today which will guarantee tomorrow? Which will it be reform or conform?
Monday, November 2, 2009
Sacrifice
Rabbi Irwin Wiener, D.D.
In November one of the weekly scriptural readings relates the story of the life and death of our first matriarch – Sarah. Her story is a testament to survival and continuity. It is a story that has significance for us today as it did when it occurred.
In November we commemorate the sacrifice and devotion of men and women who answered the call to duty and draped themselves not only in a uniform but in a feeling of commitment and affection. We honor all our Veterans – whether yesterday or today.
In November we pay tribute to pioneers who left the security of their native lands to journey to a place that offered safe haven and refuge from despots. They too gave up everything for an ideal that spoke to them in ways humanity has longed for since the beginning of time. We pause to give thanks to Almighty God for the success of their journey and the freedom we inherited from them. This is Thanksgiving in the highest sense.
All three are connected because the Torah talks to us about attachments and responsibility and dreams.
Sarah, the matriarch of our people gives birth in the winter of her life, a time when all things sleep and wither and even die. Her vision of continuity was fulfilled with laughter and tears. The portion of scripture we read tonight encompasses a spiritual experience of faith and devotion of a father answering the call of sacrifice. And the chapter deals with her death caused by despair and loss of faith as she attempts to understand the need for such an inhuman act as the death of her son to answer a mysterious voice taking from her the one thing she longed for her whole life.
Then this particular chapter continues with a search for a place in the sun for Isaac and the continuation of a promise made in the wilderness by this same voice no one can identify. And then the reading ends with the death of Abraham.
Think about it – we witness in this reading anguish, birth, despair, a promise for the future and the end of an era. Therein lays the connection.
The detail of a mother’s anguish and pain speaks to the suffering all mothers and fathers feel as they send their children off to war, to answer the call of their country. It wasn’t that long ago when banners with stars hung in practically every window of every home indicating that a loved one was somewhere fighting and dying for the same cause our ancestors fought for.
It wasn’t that long ago when people set sail on a journey that held no promise other than the assurance of freedom from tyranny. And there were mothers and fathers who witnessed the death of their children from disease and starvation, but they carried on with determination and fortitude.
Yes, the lessons of November are rather simple: Sometimes we go through experiences that require us to search for new meanings because of disappointments, tragedies or illness. Sometimes we go through unimaginable sacrifices to ensure that the gifts inherited by us from God can have significance. Sometimes we find it difficult to communicate with a loved one or reach out to help someone in need.
All these efforts can be summed up in a simple Torah reading, or a tribute to a service man or woman, or in the humbleness of a holiday that brings us closer to each other with memories of days and weeks and years of smiles and tears.
Sarah speaks to us in ways that bring our attention to the important things in life. Her story offers us the ability to enter into a spiritual awakening: To love each other and treat each other with dignity and to stand in awe of each other.
When you see a man or woman wearing the uniform of our country, stop and salute them. When you enter a restaurant and see a person in uniform waiting to be served, step right up and pay that bill and say “Thank you” for a job well done. It wasn’t that long ago when we looked at these people with disdain. That was a dark period in our history. We gave them no choice and then turned our backs on them when they returned.
Continuity, service and thanksgiving – what a month – what a history – what a feeling of accomplishment not only as Jews but as Americans; that is what November represents.
May God bless our Veterans, past and present, bless our country and above all bless us all with good health and happiness as we join together to remember our past and forge ahead with thankfulness to the ONE who is with us all the days of our lives.
AMEN
In November one of the weekly scriptural readings relates the story of the life and death of our first matriarch – Sarah. Her story is a testament to survival and continuity. It is a story that has significance for us today as it did when it occurred.
In November we commemorate the sacrifice and devotion of men and women who answered the call to duty and draped themselves not only in a uniform but in a feeling of commitment and affection. We honor all our Veterans – whether yesterday or today.
In November we pay tribute to pioneers who left the security of their native lands to journey to a place that offered safe haven and refuge from despots. They too gave up everything for an ideal that spoke to them in ways humanity has longed for since the beginning of time. We pause to give thanks to Almighty God for the success of their journey and the freedom we inherited from them. This is Thanksgiving in the highest sense.
All three are connected because the Torah talks to us about attachments and responsibility and dreams.
Sarah, the matriarch of our people gives birth in the winter of her life, a time when all things sleep and wither and even die. Her vision of continuity was fulfilled with laughter and tears. The portion of scripture we read tonight encompasses a spiritual experience of faith and devotion of a father answering the call of sacrifice. And the chapter deals with her death caused by despair and loss of faith as she attempts to understand the need for such an inhuman act as the death of her son to answer a mysterious voice taking from her the one thing she longed for her whole life.
Then this particular chapter continues with a search for a place in the sun for Isaac and the continuation of a promise made in the wilderness by this same voice no one can identify. And then the reading ends with the death of Abraham.
Think about it – we witness in this reading anguish, birth, despair, a promise for the future and the end of an era. Therein lays the connection.
The detail of a mother’s anguish and pain speaks to the suffering all mothers and fathers feel as they send their children off to war, to answer the call of their country. It wasn’t that long ago when banners with stars hung in practically every window of every home indicating that a loved one was somewhere fighting and dying for the same cause our ancestors fought for.
It wasn’t that long ago when people set sail on a journey that held no promise other than the assurance of freedom from tyranny. And there were mothers and fathers who witnessed the death of their children from disease and starvation, but they carried on with determination and fortitude.
Yes, the lessons of November are rather simple: Sometimes we go through experiences that require us to search for new meanings because of disappointments, tragedies or illness. Sometimes we go through unimaginable sacrifices to ensure that the gifts inherited by us from God can have significance. Sometimes we find it difficult to communicate with a loved one or reach out to help someone in need.
All these efforts can be summed up in a simple Torah reading, or a tribute to a service man or woman, or in the humbleness of a holiday that brings us closer to each other with memories of days and weeks and years of smiles and tears.
Sarah speaks to us in ways that bring our attention to the important things in life. Her story offers us the ability to enter into a spiritual awakening: To love each other and treat each other with dignity and to stand in awe of each other.
When you see a man or woman wearing the uniform of our country, stop and salute them. When you enter a restaurant and see a person in uniform waiting to be served, step right up and pay that bill and say “Thank you” for a job well done. It wasn’t that long ago when we looked at these people with disdain. That was a dark period in our history. We gave them no choice and then turned our backs on them when they returned.
Continuity, service and thanksgiving – what a month – what a history – what a feeling of accomplishment not only as Jews but as Americans; that is what November represents.
May God bless our Veterans, past and present, bless our country and above all bless us all with good health and happiness as we join together to remember our past and forge ahead with thankfulness to the ONE who is with us all the days of our lives.
AMEN
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