What Does Boston Strong Mean Today?

There are two types of strength. There is the strength of the wind that sways the mighty oak, and there is the strength of the oak that withstands the power of the wind. There is the strength of the locomotive that pulls the heavy train across the bridge, and there is the strength of the bridge that holds up the weight of the train. One is the power to keep going, the other is the power to keep still. One is the strength by which we overcome, the other is the strength by which we endure.           Harold Phillips

Copley Square was aglow with freshly planted yellow and purple pansies. Workers and police and visitors bustled around Boylston Street, building a covered pavilion in front of the Boston Public Library and putting finishing touches on the finish line.

Just before 2 p.m. at Old South Church on April 15, survivors gathered quietly for an interfaith Service of Resiliency. Firefighters, medical personnel, family and caregivers had come to pray, to be in community, to shed tears, and to renew their hope. Even former Governor Patrick sat in the pew.

A dozen clergy processed in caftans and cassocks, robes and suits, turbans and tallitot. Rev. Laura Everett remitted us that today, Boston Strong is also Boston Tender. Musicians played “Bridge Over Troubled Water.” I carried a large glass bowl up the aisle for survivors to deposit notes, unburdening themselves of their losses, fears, anger, and sorrow.

The clergy collected the notes, blessed them and offered them back to others in pews. Collectively we carried each other's burdens.

Afterward I stopped on Boylston Street to take in the day. I joined those taking photos of the makeshift memorials. I heard stories from 2013—how people became injured, and how the churches of Boylston St. (all in the “crime scene zone”) came together that week. I learned that the Greek Orthodox Church in Watertown had to cancel a funeral during the lockdown, and that Trinity Church worshipped in Temple Israel's sanctuary that Sunday.

Boston Strong means being united, not in a superficial way, but in a caring embrace that strengthens us all, holding us in a loving dance, as Rev. Dr. Nancy Taylor described. The dance may change, the tempo may slow, the dancers may be in the center or in a corner. But in that moment of silence at 2:49 p.m., with people standing and people sitting, together we held each other up.

Invocation at the Gala for the Edward M. Kennedy Institute for the U.S. Senate

It is a great honor to be with you today, not only because of presence of so many who are dedicated to serving our country, but the legacy of Senator Kennedy is so vast, including his life of service, his life as a father and as a mentor to many and  because his legacy encompasses the major legislation that has bettered the lives of all Americans over the past fifty years. Long after we are gone, this building will remain as a lasting tribute to his great vision, a vision of a world redeemed through the grandest ideals of democracy and the personal relationships that undergird a healthy democracy.

How significant it is to be dedicating this institute at time in religious calendar of Jewish and Christian faiths, a holy time of renewal and rebirth as we anticipate the holidays of Easter and Passover.

As Jews prepare for the Passover holiday, we recall Moses, the Leader who redeemed our people from slavery. That story begins with a vision, when God called to Moses and instructed him to speak to Pharaoh, saying “Let My People Go.”

Moses was not only concerned with freedom from physical oppression. His vision demanded that the Children of Israel learn that freedom thrives in a structure of laws, laws that protect us and support us in becoming a community of our best selves. So Moses was also the Law-giver, who received the divine words on two tablets, written by the finger of God.

But laws cannot be etched in stone forever. Laws must live and breathe in the lives of every person and in every generation. Hundreds of years after Moses’ time, the Rabbis of the Talmudic age understood this. While the words Moses received contained the spirit of holiness, so did the process of questioning and argument that led to understanding and clarity.

Among the Rabbis who lived 2000 years ago, the schools of Hillel and Shammai disagreed on nearly every important point of law, having two diametrically opposed approaches. On one occasion, the two groups argued over a single ruling for three years, until finally the Holy One intervened and said that “both are the words of the living God,” but it’s time to make a decision. And yet, the Talmud explains that during those three years of debate, the two groups married between themselves, they shared meals together and generally behaved as one people. Though they disagreed on the law, they respected that each side of the argument was built on the spirit of holiness.

Senator Kennedy embodied this vision. He recognized that truth that can be found, not only in the holy words of the Constitution but even more so in conversation, even between adversaries. This is the aspiration of this Institute, to inculcate that vision of civil conversation and working together for the common good.

And we still have so far to go. When Moses took the people out of Egypt, they were bound, not only by physical bondage, but by humanity’s worst enemies: cynicism, ego, isolation, and fear.

How do we address these enemies of the human spirit? By building relationships. At the Passover seder, we open our homes to family, friends, and even strangers. We share food and stories and recommit ourselves to the values of freedom, justice, compassion, and faith.

That is the purpose for this gathering tonight—to share food and stories and to recommit ourselves, as a group of friends, colleagues and strangers who, like Senator Kennedy, believe in the ideals of American democracy. With this meal, we dedicate ourselves to the holiness that dwells in law and to the holiness of the conversation and debate that strengthens the law.

And so we pray:

May the Holy One bless this gathering, bringing us together to break bread and to share our stories.

May this gathering bring blessing to this institute, bringing Americans together to practice civility.

May this Institute bring blessing to this nation and strengthen its democracy.

And through these divine blessings may this nation bring blessing to the world,

We thank you God, Source of all that lives and breathes, source of wisdom and compassion, for this food, for these people, for this gathering.

with Senator Elizabeth Warren

March 29, 2015

What Spring Brings

How can you tell that spring is on its way? There's less snow than before

Though there is still plenty of snow on the ground, and perhaps a few more inches to come, we have survived the brunt of a brutal winter. For many, this was the most disheartening winter on record. While we might revel in breaking our own snow record, the breakdowns of transportation, loss of income to individuals and businesses and the multiple snow days still to be made up have been demoralizing. With crews working to repair roads and tracks, and freezing temps keeping snow piles in view, we will be recovering from this winter for some time to come.

With the first day of spring upon us, this is a good time to take stock. Milestones like the spring equinox do not necessarily promise a clear ending or beginning. A thirteen year-old does not suddenly acquire maturity at bar/bat mitzvah. The relationship of a newlywed couple does not automatically grow more loving or committed on the wedding day. Much like any simcha (celebration) or ritual moment, we can use this date to see where we’ve been and look forward to where we are going.

The winter storms provided multiple opportunities for measuring our resilience and our compassion. Did we manage to overcome resignation and bitterness? Did we shovel snow for our neighbors or give an extra tip to the newspaper delivery service, dog-walkers or cleaners who came to our house or office? Did we find ways to entertain our children, spend time with partners and spouses, or even share our photos and stories with good humor?  And did we recognize how blessed and fortunate we truly are to have heat and electricity, solid homes and sufficient food? As one friend put it, “I’m grateful I don’t live in the Ukraine or Syria.”

Israeli Elections on St. Patrick’s Day

No, I can’t find any meaning in that confluence of events, except that it might succeed in bringing a smile to your face. By now, you have probably read plenty of reports and analysis about the election results. And if you haven’t, I want to point you to a couple of items.

In January, we hosted a talk entitled “Israel’s Critical Election Dilemma: Change or Status Quo” with Israeli journalist Eetta Prince-Gibson. Now we know the answer: more of the same. That’s part of what Jeremy Burton, Executive Director of the Jewish Community Relations Council (JCRC) had to say the next morning in JewishBoston.com. I appreciate Jeremy’s ability to distill truths in a way that everyone can agree on, no matter what your personal political leanings. He is a true role model for maintaining balance while respecting the wide range of views in the Jewish community.

And if you’re looking for something more pessimistic, I recommend JJ Goldberg in the Forward, “Trouble Ahead for Bibi. Plus: Why Herzog Lost.” Not that I’m a fan of pessimism (I’m not!), but he lays out some of the challenges for Israeli society resulting from the recent election campaign.

There are many more ways to discuss the election. I’ll end by saying that, like the spring equinox, an election is a moment to take stock. I pray that, like the promise of spring, the outcome of this election will bring opportunities for renewal.

My Home is Someone's Workplace

I am looking forward to hosting seder once again. Family and friends will gather around our family table, extended beyond the dining room to accommodate the crowd, and the table will be filled with two seder plates, several types of charoset, extra matza, flowers, and of course, my mother’s fine china. My daughter and her husband will travel from Chicago, my son will come in from Philadelphia, and all of us will spend many joyful and frantic hours cooking and preparing. All this, on top of the pre-Pesach spring cleaning!

When I was growing up, my mother prepared the meal and my father led the seder. Both of them enjoyed their roles, taking pleasure in engaging our many guests in questions, conversation and multiple courses of good food. In our house today, the family shares in preparing the meal, while I lead the seder.

I discovered that one cannot lead the seder and serve the meal as well. While my guests are happy to assist, I want them to enjoy the evening at the table. How do families manage these large, festive meals when the roles have become blurred?

I learned that having someone help with the meal and the clean-up takes pressure off of everyone. Plus, our helper, who is not Jewish, usually participates in much of the seder and learns about the Jewish practices. It’s a win-win-win.

Since the kernel of the story of Pesach is about liberation from oppression of all kinds, I am particularly mindful of how we treat our paid seder helpers. Our liberation story provides a foundation for the ethical treatment of all workers. The 2012 national Domestic Workers Alliance determined that there are 2.5 million domestic workers in the US. Most receive no paid sick time and no overtime pay. A quarter of them get no more than five hours of sleep a night. Many suffer threats and verbal abuse. They work long hours with no breaks. In addition, live-in workers live in fear of losing their home when they lose their jobs. Fearful of being jobless and homeless, live-in workers are reluctant to ask for a pay raise or a night off.

This year, we have an extra incentive to remember to treat domestic workers (including nannies, cleaners, and companions who work in the home) with dignity. On April 1, just two days prior to the first seder, the Domestic Workers Bill of Rights goes into effect in Massachusetts.

Who is affected by this new law? If you employ a domestic worker who works within your private home, you should become familiar with the new requirements. A “domestic worker” is someone who is not employed by an agency but works directly for the private individual, as a house cleaner or housekeeper, a nanny, caretaker, someone who cooks or does laundry or other household services for your family or guests. Your worker needs be a regular employee, not an occasional babysitter.

This new law will require some adjustment, as any change does. But as we have learned in other industries, treating workers with dignity benefits the employer too. These changes will create a more positive work relationship, which will have an immediate impact on the nanny’s relationship with children or a companion’s relationship with an elder or person who is ill or disabled. It’s a win-win-win for the employer, the worker, and those we love and care about.

published in The Jewish Advocate, March 20, 2015

And please join me at the Labor Seder, hosted by the New England Jewish Labor Committee, Tuesday evening, March 24 in Dorchester, when we will honor Mayor Marty Walsh for his exemplary commitment to the rights of all workers.

Season of Snow--a musical tribute

inspired by Twitter #replaceLOVEwithSNOW

and Seasons of Love 

Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes
Five hundred twenty five thousand moments, oh dear
Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?

In snowdrifts, in snow days,

In subways now out of service,
In inches, in piles, in winds like a knife,
In five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, a year in the life?

How about snow?
How about snow?
Measure in snow.

Season of snow
Season of snow

Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes
Five hundred twenty five thousand journeys deferred
Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure a city that’s undeterred?

In back-breaking shov’ling
Or in parking space fights
In roofs that cave in or the world all in white

It's time now, to dig out
Though the storms never end
Let's excavate
Our streets from a year that broke all trends.

Melt all the snow
(Oh, you got to, you got to remove all the snow)
Melt all the snow
(You know that snow is a gift from up above)
Melt all the snow
(Share snow, give snow, spread snow)
Measure in snow
(Measure, measure your life in snow)

Season of snow
Season of snow

(Measure your life, measure your life in snow).

Groundhogs and Almond Trees

What  do they have in common? Both are harbingers of spring!

As I peer out over the mountain of snow in my front yard, I am comforted by the approach of Groundhog Day and Tu B’shvat in the coming week.

Groundhog Day, February 2, promises us that spring is just around the corner, or at least it’s no more than 6 weeks away.

Tu B’shvat, the 15^th of Shvat, comes on Tuesday-Wednesday, February 3-4, as a reminder that the first signs of spring are appearing in the land of Israel. With the full moon above, the sap is rising in the trees as they drink in the winter rains. The almond trees are the first to open their soft white blossoms.  If it’s not too cold and not too wet, Israeli children go out to plant trees.

We can get through the winter, knowing that soon spring will arrive. March will be here before you know it, and flower bulbs beginning to poke out of the earth.

In the Jewish lunar cycle, the month of Shvat (already nearly half over) will be followed by the month of Adar, the most  joyous month of the year. Planning for Purim festivities are already well underway.

So much to look forward to. And yet, let’s not rush things. Try to be in this moment, cold and snowy, slushy and slippery. Skiing and skating. And, ah yes, the Patriots are in the Superbowl.

I don’t know of many rituals surrounding Groundhog Day (except, perhaps, watching the movie “Groundhog Day” over and over). But there’s plenty of ways to honor and enjoy trees (and their fruits).

Take a hike! Our Chaverim School students will be taking a hike in the Arboretum (weather permitting) on Wednesday the 4^th. But you can go anywhere, anytime, and enjoy the trees’ wintry array.

Eat fruit! The Jewish mystics created a special seder ritual for this holiday, involving eating 15 different fruits, symbolic of various experiences of divinity in our world. Can you name 15 fruits you’d like to eat? Even if they are not in season locally, consider dried fruits and nuts (nuts count as fruit in the seder). Hazon provides a haggadah for adults and one for children, so you can hold a Tu B’shvat seder in your home.

Plant a tree! Maybe you can’t actually dig a hole in the ground this week, but thanks to the internet, you can take part in tree planting elsewhere.There’s no denying it: our planet needs trees.

• Some of you may remember giving to JNF to plant trees in Israel. You can still do that, and get or give a classic Tree Certificate.

 Planting a tree in Israel can also be a gesture of peace and hope.

• ·         Rabbis for Human Rights is raising money in its “Plant change, grow hope” campaign, bringing Israelis and Palestinians together to plant olive trees.
• ·         T’ruah:  The Rabbinic Call for Human Rights is asking you to support rabbinical students who will plant olive trees with Palestinian farmers.

 Watch Honi make it rain! Well, virtually. A fun video for everyone.

On Tu B’shvat, I will be eating dates, figs, nuts and pomegranates, and contemplating the need for us to take care of our trees and planet, as they sustain us, even through the frozen winter.  And remembering that each day is a choice fruit to enjoy.

Je Suis Charlie, Je Suis Juif

Wednesday evening, I attended the communal gathering in solidarity with French Jews. Upon entering the sanctuary at Temple Beth Elohim in Wellesley, I was moved by the names and faces that appeared on the screens above us.

They included the four Jews who were murdered in the kosher supermarket:

Philippe Braham
Yohan Cohen
Yoav Hattab
Francois-Michel Saada

The slides also included the names and faces of all seventeen victims of terror last week.

Those images reflect two important themes of Jewish life: commitment to our own people as well as to all of humanity. I spoke of this tension on Rosh Hashanah this year, urging us to find a way to hold both commitments at the same time. The Jewish people is our family, wherever they reside, whatever their ideology or religious expression. As Rabbi Joel Sisenwine reminded the gathering last night: Kol Yisrael arevim ze lazeh, each Jew carries a responsibility for other Jews.

Yet the Torah begins with a universal vision, the Creation of all humanity. The pinnacle of the Creation story is expressed in a statement of our equal status and unique individuality: we are each made b’tzelem Elohim, in the divine image. From that first chapter of our holiest Book, we derive the obligation to care about all human beings and to treat each one with dignity.

How do we make sense of this tension when we believe that our people are threatened by others? How can we find the goodness in others who seek to deny our humanity and take the lives of Jews for no other reason than we are Jews?

One can look at France and see growing anti-semitism. One can also look at France and see a democratic society committed to respecting and protecting the Jewish population. While these ideas seem to be in tension, the truth requires accepting both realities.

Jews have lived in France since the time of the Roman Empire. In the past 1500 years, we can find instances of good relations between Jews and Christians as well as periods of persecution, massacres and expulsions. Since the establishment of the French Republic in the 18^th century, the situation for Jews improved considerably. All anti-Jewish laws were abolished. Jews were made citizens with full rights. The Jewish population increased and Jews achieved success in the professions and the arts.

The Nazi occupation of France brought deportations of Jews and tens of thousands were sent to concentration camps. However, both the French Catholic and Protestant churches opposed anti-Jewish measures, and many Christians saved Jewish children, in body and soul. An entire village, Le Chambon-sur-Lignon (population 5,000) and the villages on the surrounding plateau (population 24,000) provided refuge for thousands of Jewish children, risking their own lives.

Today, France is home to the largest Jewish population in Europe and is the third largest Jewish population in the world (after Israel and the United States).

My good friend and colleague, Rabbi Stephen Berkowitz, spoke to us a year ago about anti-semitism in France today. He made the point that France is not an anti-semitic country. Most French people are not anti-semitic.  When I reached out to him this week, he wrote about increased fear among French Jews since last week’s attack.

And yet, we need to ask whether the actions of these three young terrorists represent a larger trend, particularly in the French Muslim community? And what is the response of French society to the targeting of Jews shopping for Shabbat dinner?

We can be grateful for the actions of a 24-year old Muslim employee at the supermarket, Lassana Bathily, an immigrant from Mali, who saved the lives of several Jews by hiding them in the store's freezer.

We can take heart from the words of Malek Merabet, the brother of Ahmed Merabet, the police officer who was killed outside the offices of Charlie Hebdo. He declared,

“My brother was French, Algerian, and of the Muslim religion. He was very proud of the name Ahmed Merabet, proud to represent the French police, and to defend the values of the Republic: liberty, equality and fraternity….Devastated by this barbaric act, we associate ourselves with the pain of the families of the victims….I address myself now to all the racists, Islamophobes and anti-Semites. One must not confuse extremists with Muslims. Madness has neither color nor religion. I want to make another point: stop painting everybody with the same brush, stop burning mosques or synagogues. You are attacking people.”

These words represent the multi-cultural aspirations of the French people.

The slogan Je Suis Charlie united the French people in defense of liberty and freedom of speech. The slogan Je Suis Juif demonstrates the compassion of the French people for the Jewish victims. As French Prime Minister, Manuel Valls, said after the attacks, "Without the Jews, France is no longer France.”

What is the future of Jews in France?

I believe the future of Jews is tied to the future of democracy. It is too early to see what direction the French government and French people will take to combat terror and to protect Jews and all citizens. Likewise, it is too early to determine whether these events will lead to mass aliyah to Israel. As Rabbi Berkowitz emphatically stated, “Most of secular, non- affiliated Jews who are not physically threatened and feel confident that the govt is doing everything possible to fight ant- semitism will continue to stay in France.”

Our hearts go out to the French people. Our prayers go out to the families of all the victims. May the Jewish community of France, which has endured so much in the past, continue to thrive.