A Prayer for Yom Hashoah

(photo: Margaret Bourke-White)

(photo: Margaret Bourke-White)

Oh, Spirit of mercy,
whose presence dwells
in the highest heights
and the darkest depths:

Shelter the souls
of all who were oppressed and murdered
during the years of the Shoah.

May the memory of those who were
singled out, persecuted and destroyed
be sanctified for goodness
and for peace:

Jews, gays, lesbians
and political dissidents;
communists, socialists,
labor leaders and Soviet prisoners of war;
resistance fighters, Roma,
Freemasons and Jehovah’s Witnesses;
the crippled of mind and body;
the homeless, the unemployed
and the unwanted…

May all who were once left vulnerable
remain protected beneath the soft wings of your presence
that they may rest in peace.

Spirit of Compassion,
help us to mourn their loss in such a way
that our fears and our hopes will become indistinguishable
from the fear and the hope of all who are oppressed.

Help us turn isolation into wholeness,
division into fellowship
and bitterness into healing waters of liberation
for all humanity.

Amen.


In Every Generation: A Poem for the Seder Table

Silhouette-Freedom
In every generation
we go forth from Egypt.

In every generation
a broken guttural shout bursts
from the deepest darkness
shock waves spreading unheard
unseen unknown for
many generations more.

In every generation
the narrows tighten radiating
terrible knowledge through
pulverized bones that
there’s nowhere left but
straight ahead.

In every generation
the waters stretch out
eyes close tight leaping
into the dark blue depths
mouths gulping for air the
broken shout now sounds
like a song.


Tu B’shvat in the Diaspora: Celebrating the Unseen

snowtrees

In the land of Israel, the “harbinger of Spring” festival of Tu B’shvat is marked at this time of year by the blossoming of the white almond blossoms through the central and northern parts of the land. Those of us, however, who live in the northern hemisphere diaspora, often celebrate Tu B’shvat surrounded by several inches of white snow and leaf-less trees. Is this any way to celebrate a harbinger of Spring?

I’ll suggest that it is. I actually find it very profound to contemplate the coming of Spring in the depths of a Chicago winter. It reminds me that even during this dark, cold season, there are unseen forces at work preparing our world for renewal and rebirth. Deep beneath the ground, the sap is beginning to rise in the roots of our trees – although this fructification process might not be as visually spectacular as the proliferation of white almond blossoms exploding across the countryside, I believe this invisible life-giving energy is eminently worth acknowledging – and celebrating.

I took the picture above this morning while walking my dog.  They may not be gorgeous almond blossoms, but I’d like to think that these bare, snow covered elms are wonderful spiritual teachers in their own right. All hail the unseen forces of our rebirth and Happy Tu B’shvat!


Yes Virginia, Maybe Hanukkah IS the Jewish Christmas…

Christmas-Hanukkah

Among the most interesting and smart articles I’ve read about Hanukkah this year is a piece by JTS Rabbinical Student Benjamin Resnick in the Forward, in which he argues there is every reason – and in fact good historical precedence – for Jews to appreciate the beauty of Christmas even as they celebrate Hanukkah.

Resnick writes:

I say this as a committed, observant Jew and as a future rabbi. As someone who spends a great deal of time engaged in ritual, there are a handful of ritual moments that — year in and year out, and regardless of where I am physically, emotionally or spiritually — never fail to move me. The beginning of ma’ariv on the first night of Rosh Hashanah, is one. The smell of latkes is another. And the first time I hear the rum-pum-pum-pum of “The Little Drummer Boy“ is a third.

The fact is that Hanukkah menorahs and Christmas trees, “Maoz Tzur” and “Jingle Bell Rock,” potato pancakes and chow mein have become intertwined in the seasonal consciousness of American Jews. And while a great many contemporary Jewish voices go to great lengths to convince us that Hanukkah is not the “Jewish Christmas,” I would argue, from both a historical perspective and a spiritual one, that such protestations do a disservice to the very traditions they venerate.

I actually came out of this particular closet (admittedly in a much less erudite manner) several years ago when I confessed that I love listening to Christmas songs – particularly those of the aching, melancholic variety:

Is it perverse or at all sacreligious for a rabbi to be confessing his love for songs such as these? I dunno, don’t you think there’s something of a Jewish quality to them? Maybe it’s their quasi-exilic yearning (not to mention the fact that most of them were written by Jews anyhow.)

So that’s my seasonal guilty pleasure confession. And lest you judge me too quickly here, just take the test yourself. Check out James Taylor’s version of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” or “I’ll Be Home For Christmas” as sung by Sarah McLachlan. (Man, that last line gets me every time…)

So have yourself a Happy Little Hanukkah now…


jacob at the well of souls

Photo by Bart Bernardes

as soon as jacob rolled the stone
away it all came bursting forth like
the waters of a long forgotten spring he
he told her of his sorrow and
his fear his shame and
regret all the dreams
he dared not recall
in the light of day

when rachel took him to her father’s
house laban ran out and embraced him
jacob told him of his journey laban
smiled and tightened his grip
my god you’ve got your mother’s eyes
then leading him into his house he added
i believe the two of us
are going to get
along just
fine

(Genesis 29:1-14)


separation

when he felt himself being
separated he held fast to
his twin gripping tighter the
pressure slowly tearing them
apart with growing
terror he realized the presence
of a force much more powerful was
upending this exquisite balance
he heard a far off voice pleading
but if so then why do
i exist?

when he felt him pulling
away he reached out
but could only grab hold of
his heel that’s
how they came into
the world esau
howling in the blinding
light and jacob whose
name means the one
who refused
to let go

(Genesis 25: 2-26)


unveiled


ever since his mother
died it always ended the
same way as the
the knife descended
the veil fell away
but he could never
identify his executioner
the moment the blade
pierced skin he would
wake up screaming
now here he sits in his
father’s field watching the sun
slowly bleed away
looking up he sees a
veiled figure standing
before him
she lifts her veil
and swaddles him
his pain now bound
up in the softness
of the spreading
night sky

(Genesis 24:62-67)


abraham’s sacrifice


some time afterward
god put abraham
to the test
take your son
the one
for whom you’ve waited
your son the blessing
your son the promise
your son the future
and offer him up
tear him down
the way you shattered your
own father’s idols when
abraham awoke he
looked down at his son
still sleeping
looking up he saw a
ram caught in the thicket
he walked out into the night
took out his knife
(here i am my son)
and cut the beast
loose

(Genesis 22:1-13)


voices at sunset

as the sun was about to set god said
fear not abram i will protect
you and your reward shall be very
great i will return you to your
fathers in peace and you shall be
buried by your sons at
a ripe old age
the sun sank still lower and
abram heard a low voice whispering
know that your children will be
strangers in a strange land
enslaved and oppressed but when
their pain pierces the heavens
i will execute harsh judgement
upon the ones they serve
and i will bring them to this land
when the iniquity of its
inhabitants is complete
when the sun disappeared a great
black dread descended
upon on him like birds of
prey alighting upon a
freshly slaughtered
sacrifice

(Genesis 15:1, 11-20)


creation undone

and god saw every color
of the spectrum splaying
out through the shattered
firmament shining like jewels
scattered across the
jagged shards of creation
undone
god said now i know
the desire to destroy hovers
just behind the desire
to create
as these wounded heavens
are my witness i will never
again annihilate everything
i cannot shape and
mold and bend to my will
still i wonder
will humanity make
this covenant once the
waters recede
from the
earth?

(Genesis 9:12-17)


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