I'm off for a week. The blog returns January 2nd with "Remember the Sabbath, part 2."

Until then, consider the extent of your personal Sabbath observance. How much do you "remember" Shabbat each week? And how much do you "keep" Shabbat? And what more will you do to deepen your connection to Shabbat? Light Shabbat candles. Unplug for 24 hours: no e-mail, no BlackBerry/Treo/etc., no cell phone. Invite friends and/or family to join you for a sit down meal at home. Walk. Sing. Learn together with your family. Can you commit to yourself and your family for something more than chasing the things you want and just being with the things you have for 24 hours?

I leave you with this poem by Rabbi Marcia Prager, posted on the URJ Shabbat website:

Tonight is a time to catch our breath.
Whatever we have been
doing,
making,
working,
creating...
Tonight is a time to catch our breath.

No matter how necessary our work,
How important to the world,
how urgent that we continue it;

No matter how joyful our work,
how fully and profoundly human;

No matter how flawed our work,
how urgent that we set it right;
No matter how hard we have worked to gather
our modest fame,
our honourable livelihood,
our reasonable power,

Tonight we pause to catch our breath.
Tonight we pause to share whatever we have gathered.

Remember the Sabbath?

Rabbi Eric Yoffie, President of the URJ, has announced an initiative to bring Shabbat back to the center of Jewish life for Reform Jews. At the most recent biennial convention of the Reform movement, Rabbi Yoffie proposed two things. First, change our temple’s Shabbat morning worship into a vibrant and interesting experience for the entire congregation. Second, deepen our personal engagement with Shabbat. Both aspects apply to our congregation and its members. This posting addresses the first point. Next week, I will discuss the second.

Rabbi Yoffie bemoaned the current state of Shabbat morning worship in Reform synagogues. He said: "With the morning worship appropriated by the Bar and Bat Mitzvah families, our members who come to pray with the community often sit in the back of the sanctuary and feel like interlopers in their own congregation….

The results are tragic. We lose young families, whose children cannot stay up late on Friday. We lose seniors, who avoid nighttime driving and prefer to pray during the day. We lose those wanting to say Kaddish and those who are simply looking to join their community in prayer....

We are also sending a message about bar mitzvah that we do not want to send. Bar mitzvah is the occasion, symbolically at least, when a young person joins an adult community of Jews. But you cannot join what does not exist. A regular community of worshippers, who would be best suited to mentor the child, is not even present. At the average bar mitzvah what you almost always get is a one-time assemblage of well-wishers with nothing in common but an invitation."

Rabbi Yoffie’s remarks describe Monmouth Reform Temple in some ways but miss the mark in others. Sadly, our Shabbat situation is sometimes even worse than his assessment. Rabbi Yoffie spoke of the "members who come" on Saturday. We rarely, if ever, have even a single member of the congregation beyond the invited guests and official representatives. But it is still worse. Our members typically do not invite each other to their b’nei mitzvah, so "a one-time assemblage" – all non-members – is the norm for our Saturday mornings. But it gets even worse. Increasingly, even the invited guests do not come for the worship service and only show up for the party. Many b’nei mitzvah families stress the importance of the service to their guests, but others tell me that "everyone is coming tonight to my party" without the slightest sense of regret, irony, or embarrassment. Lastly, our congregation only holds Shabbat morning worship when a bar or bat mitzvah is scheduled. This is a common practice in Reform synagogues but Rabbi Yoffie reminds us: "a great religious Movement does not forego regular Shabbat morning communal prayer."

Rabbi Yoffie is right. It is time to reclaim our greatness, our Shabbat, and our community. I can picture a day when we have Shabbat morning worship at MRT every week of the year with as many temple members worshipping as bar or bat mitzvah guests. I can picture a Shabbat community at MRT – a full house of activity and gathering at the synagogue and in each other’s homes. There will be Torah study, meditation, social gathering, shared meals, tikkun olam, music and singing, joy, and lots of people connecting with each other. It will be Shabbat and it will be great. Are you in?

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A Jewish "Merry Christmas"

‘Tis the season of the December Dilemma. Many Jews find themselves frustrated with the ubiquity of Christmas in America. It is a discomforting reminder of our minority status. It is hard to explain to children why they can not do the fun things they see among their peers. One aspect of this dilemma is how to respond to “Merry Christmas.” Our replies cover the spectrum: from silence to “Happy Hanukkah” to “I don’t celebrate Christmas!” While these answers reflect our commitment to Judaism, they are not appropriate, “Jewish” responses.

Judaism demands that we respond to all people with derech eretz (good manners) and a cheerful disposition. Our ancient sages taught: “Receive every person with a cheerful expression” and “Derech Eretz precedes the Torah.” Rabbi Joseph Telushkin explains the significance of this last point: “God could imagine humankind existing for thousands of years without the Torah, but He could not imagine us living without … civility.” The Talmud teaches us to follow the example of Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai: “No one ever greeted him first, even a Gentile in the marketplace.” Rabbi Yochanan survived the Roman siege of Jerusalem and destruction of the second temple. He certainly had good reason to treat Gentiles coldly but instead he offered greetings.

Each of us is instructed to respond pleasantly regardless of why we resent “Merry Christmas.” For those who resent the whole season: Judaism forbids you from directing anger about larger problems towards one individual. For those who are curmudgeons by nature, Judaism forbids you from making others feel that they are the source of your ill will. For those who feel that saying, “Merry Christmas” makes them a traitor to the Jewish people, the Mishnah instructs you to return the greetings of a Gentile even if it means interrupting your prayers so that you don’t create bad feelings. In other words, God prefers you stop your conversation with Him to talk with the person standing in front of you because God want us to get along with each other.

When greeted this season with, “Merry Christmas,” you can respond anyway you like: with a smile, a “thank you,” or “Merry Christmas to you.” Just respond with derech eretz. It is the Jewish way to spread holiday cheer.

Post your response by clicking the blue "comments" link just below this line.

So many books, so little time...

Just in time for Chanukah, we are hosting a book fair at the temple this week. The social hall is packed with current, Jewish books for any age level and all genres. This is a great opportunity to build your Jewish library and make a family activity out of buying a few good picks. Here are a few recommendations from the adult fiction aisle:

Roz Reisner, temple librarian, recommends "The War of the Rosens" by Janice Eidus. She describes the book: "A great coming-of-age tale set in the Bronx in 1965. Emma Rosen, a budding poet, tries to understand the nature of good and evil as it plays out in her eccentric Jewish family."

I recommend "Everything is Illuminated" by Jonathan Safran Foer and "The Yiddish Policeman's Union" by Michael Chabon. These two books represent some of the best of new American Jewish fiction. They are funny, well written, and engaged in many of the biggest issues of contemporary Jewish life.

For kids, the awarding winning book, "Hanukkah at Valley Forge" by Stephen Krensky with illustrations by Greg Harlin, is a great tale that weaves together American history and the story of the Maccabees.

If you are interested in traditional texts, be sure to pick up a copy of the JPS translation of the Tanakh, the Harvey J. Fields Torah Commentary set, or the new translation of the Torah by Robert Alter.

Also, be sure to join in one or more of the special events we are holding in connection with the book fair: a discussion of the book, "As a Driven Leaf" by Milton Steinberg on Thursday at noon, Roz Reisner's talk during services Friday night, our havdallah and story-teller event on Saturday night, or the chance to meet and hear from Israeli author Penina Moed-Kass about her book "Real Time" on Sunday at 11 AM. All events at the temple. Contact the office or check our website for more info.

Happy reading!

"Modeh Ani - I Thank You"

Happy Thanksgiving! I hope that you and your families are blessed with happiness, good health, and feelings of deep gratitude on this holiday.

Judaism holds gratitude as one of the highest virtues and commands its expression in our daily liturgy. In fact, the very first thing a person should say upon waking – even before getting out of bed – is a personal prayer of thanks: “modeh ani l’fanecha melech chai v’kayam, sheh-hechezarta bi nishmati b'chemla rabba emunatecha – I gratefully thank you, O living and eternal God, for you have returned my soul to me with compassion, great is your faithfulness.”

Let’s cultivate our sense of gratitude by adopting some ideas and practices from the morning thanksgiving prayer:

1. Make gratitude a fixed practice in your day. Set aside five minutes each day to contemplate the things for which you are grateful.

2. Express your gratitude daily. Each day, tell at least one person that you are grateful and tell them why you are grateful to them.

3. Be thankful for the basics first. The prayer simply thanks God for the fact that we have woken up for another day. Don’t set the bar too high in your contemplation of things for which you are grateful.

4. Let your gratitude last forever. While we know that we will not live forever, the prayer acknowledges that God - thing to which we are grateful - is eternal.

5. Express gratitude to those who help you but whom you can not see.* Just as we should thank God even though we may not literally see God, so too should we thank the sanitary workers who clear our trash before even we’ve brewed our first cup of coffee, the members of our armed forces who defend us and fight for us thousands of miles away, and anyone whose efforts help us when we don’t see them.

6. Let the things for which you are grateful lead you to help others and treat them with kindness. Our tradition teaches, “mitzvah goreret mitzvah – one mitzvah leads to another mitzvah.” Live that teaching.

7. Acknowledge the good while you have it.* The daily prayer for thanksgiving is recited upon waking in order to teach us that a person should not wait for a more convenient time to express their gratitude but say thanks in the moment of appreciation.

Rabbi Joseph Telushkin offers this challenge at the end of a chapter he wrote about gratitude: "Right now, before you finish this chapter mark down the ways in which your life is blessed, and for which you can and should express gratitude to God." So, go ahead. Take his challenge and bring the results with you into this year’s Thanksgiving celebration.

I'll start: Todah Rabbah! Thank you, for the opportunity to learn and study with you every day, for the privilege of serving as rabbi of this community, and for the generous support you provide for me and my family.

*Quoted from Rabbi Joseph Telushkin, A Code of Jewish Ethics, Vol. 1: You Shall Be Holy (2006), Chapter 7 “Becoming a Grateful Person.” This book is a must-have for anyone interested in Jewish values and ethics.

Count the stars

I am writing this post during a break between sessions at the STAR PEER alumni retreat, an annual conference I attend as part of my connection with STAR (Synagogues: Transformation and Renewal). The conference reunites me with a small group of rabbis who are committed to ensuring a lasting, energized Jewish future by strengthening synagogues. The conference always brings stars - top scholars and Jewish community leaders - to focus and enrich our efforts. I want to share with you some of the best teachings so far from this year's conference.

Last night's key note speaker, Jewish Theological Seminary's new chancellor Arnold Eisen, offered an inspiring assessment of the state of American Judaism. Chancellor Eisen has embarked on a campaign to redefine the meaning of "mitzvah." He cited one of Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan's central principles: the Jewish people are commanded by more than just Torah from Sinai. Eisen believes that anyone who steps into a synagogue does so because they feel a sense of obligation or commitment to something. It may be an obligation to respond to the God of their understanding (revelation), an obligation to appease their parents (Jewish guilt), an obligation to preserve the Jewish people (ethnic pride), or any other compelling thing. Chancellor Eisen challenges us to expand our understanding of "mitzvah" to include the broad sweep of commitments felt by our people. I agree with him, but want to know from you: what obligation, tug, or commitment keeps you connected to Judaism and our synagogue?

Sandy Cardin, president of the Charles and Lynn Schusterman Family Foundation, spoke to us about risk. He cited the amazing benefits reaped by entrepreneurial Jewish leaders in the past decade (he cited Reboot, STAR, and S3K as examples) and urged us "don't cede the territory of innovation to them just because you are in institutional settings." Sandy then drew on Jewish history for a number of examples of great risks that produced history changing rewards for the Jewish people: Yohanan ben Zakkai's worship revolution following the destruction of Jerusalem by the Romans, Rambam's codification of the Mishneh Torah, and Abraham Joshua Heschel's march with Martin Luther King, Jr. What risks have you taken in your life that have impacted your Jewish identity, practice, or beliefs? Are there limits to the risks we should take in a congregation? Are there limits to the rewards we can achieve?

Chancellor Eisen argued that the future of progressive American Judaism can be great and urged us to heed our calling to make it great. Again, I agree with his optimism but want to know from you if you think the glass of American Judaism is half full or half empty. And are you ready to fill it the rest of the way?

"In Through the Out Door": Lessons from Led Zeppelin for Carpool Pickup and the Entire Temple

Even before I joined MRT, I had heard complaints about the religious school pick up procedures: too dangerous, too slow, too cold, too hot, too controlling, not controlled enough. The parents, the teachers, the principal, the clergy, and the board of trustees all knew of the problems. And yet, no solution seemed acceptable or actionable.

This school year, I suggested an “out of the box” solution: go in through the out door. I have heard lots of feedback and I have been thinking about Led Zeppelin ever since.

Led Zeppelin’s final studio album, In Through the Out Door (1979), points to many of the principles required for us to transform our synagogue so that it can best respond to operational challenges (like the parking lot) and philosophical or strategic ones (like what it means to be a temple member nowadays and in the future).

The album’s title was drawn from the band’s concerns about their own need to overcome internal challenges like damaged relationships while also responding to external pressures like the rise of punk music. Bonham, Page, Jones, and Plant recognized that they must take these pressures seriously if they wanted to continue their stellar international success. They had to be willing to reconsider everything, including their basic assumptions about what’s in and what’s out. We are in a similar position, and like them, must consider whether going in through the out door makes better sense – literally in the parking lot case, or metaphorically speaking in any other realm of the temple.

The album was released with six different covers: a photograph of the same scene taken from six different angles. Each album jacket was covered with a plain brown paper sleeve and sealed in plastic. While the album itself was the same, you never knew which of the six covers you would get until you bought it. Synagogue performance involves a similar degree of chance: we never know exactly how any innovation will turn out until we commit to it for a while. But because the core mission and values inside the temple do not change regardless of new systems or procedures, we should not be overly afraid of innovation.



The Zeppelin story also demonstrates that we are never too old to adapt. Led Zeppelin had been one the highest profile bands to prohibit internet distribution and downloading of their music. But, almost thirty years since they last worked in the studio together, the band recently reached a deal with Apple to offer a special “digital box set” of their entire discography - including In Through the Out Door - on iTunes.

Meanwhile back at the ranch, we continue to examine our temple parking lot so that we have a system that works most efficiently for our students, families, and staff. The details are not as quick or easy to work out as I had hoped. Nevertheless, I believe more than ever that in order to become the best resource for Jewish learning and living in Monmouth County, we must be open to considering everything – even the possibility of coming in through the out door.