Tragedy in Parkland

We are all saddened and horrified beyond words by what happened in Parkland on Wednesday. Parkland is not some place we’ve never heard of. It’s right here. I lived 2.5 miles from that school when I first started this blog. My children have many friends who went there. My daughter had known one of the victims since she was a baby. I know teachers who work there. I can think of at least one of our congregants whose children attended that school. And two grandchildren of our congregants attend there now; one of whom was in a classroom where the shooting occurred. She lost three friends. It’s real for us. Very real. Unfortunately, all too real. Yes we mourn. Yes we question. Yes we grieve. Yes we are angry. We look for answers, but are there any really? And then we look to blame. And it’s easy to throw blame around. Too easy. We can blame and we can make excuses and we can say if only….. But that should not be and cannot be our response. So what should our response be? And more to the point as Jews, as a synagogue, as the rabbi, what can I say to make any sense out of this? In a way I don’t really know what to say. I could talk about gun control. After all, what kind of society do we live in where there is no right to shout fire in a crowded theatre but there is a right to shoot bullets in a crowded classroom? I could talk about the need for more mental health services in schools and elsewhere. But we’ve cut so many guidance counselors in the schools because we can’t afford them. I could talk about how it just might be better to arm teachers and have more police presence in our schools because that will solve the problems. Of course that takes away resources from the real purpose of our schools. But it’s okay. And I could talk about the catchphrase, “If you see something say something.” But do we really have the ability to know what a real threat is and what’s not? And can we just detain and search anyone who posts anything that might be suspicious? But I’m not an expert on those issues and all I’d be doing is offering my opinion. But here is something I do know and can and need to talk about. The purpose of our society, our government is to protect its citizens. That must come first. Everything else depends on and flows from that. If we are not safe, if our families are not safe, if our schools and other communal institutions are not safe, then nothing else matters because there will be nothing else. That is the primary responsibility of our leaders and our government. And shirking that responsibility endangers lives as we’ve seen far too often in recent years. But here in shul, we also turn to each other, to God, and to our tradition, not only for comfort but, if not for answers, then hopefully for some guidance. So where was God on Wednesday? How could God allow this to happen? And let us blame God are some standard responses to tragedy. But I will tell you that we do not sit here today and blame God. God did not allow this to happen. We did. We did by our own indifference and inaction. God has given us the resources and ability to avert tragedy and to save lives. If we don’t avail ourselves of that, then the blame falls on us, not on God. It is why on the cover of the Ark in the Tabernacle sat two winged creatures made of brass. They were called Keruvim, or in English, cherubs! These two Keruvim were placed facing one another as a sign of closeness between the people and God. But at other times, when the people weren't acting properly, the Keruvim would turn and face away from each other, signifying a breach in that relationship. Whenever God appeared to Moses He would appear from between the faces of these Keruvim. What does this come to teach us especially today? Where is God? God is present when two people face each other and are close to each other! On the other hand, when is God absent? God is absent whenever people, like those keruvim, turn away from each other. When we fail to see and feel for each other; when we turn a blind eye to another’s problems or to society’s failings. God is absent whenever a person insults another or harms another. God is absent when people make racist, sexist, homophobic, or anti-Semitic statements, failing to see the humanity in the other. And God is absent when seventeen innocent people, most teenagers, are murdered because we have turned away from each other. But in that Tabernacle God was present between the human faces of the Keruvim when we acted, with compassion, with understanding, with our desire not only to be close to one another but to see that someone has a problem and then doing what we can to help that person. And the resources we should be expending to do that are far more beneficial to the person and to society than the false security of metal detectors. Not only today as we grieve, but each and every day, we should be asking ourselves this question. If the Temple was still standing, would the Keruvim be facing towards each other, or would they be facing away from each other? If they are facing towards each other, let us consider why that is so. And then let us strive to ensure that they continue to do so. But if they are facing away from each other, as they are today, let us also consider why. And then let us vow to do our best to take whatever actions we need to take to insure that we have a society where we face each other with love and compassion, that we remain in that position so that together we can build a better society for all, a society which supports each other, especially those who need it the most, and a society which then God, seeing how we face each other, does truly shed His grace on thee. Yes, let us mourn. Yes, let us pray for the families of those that lost their lives. But let us also remember that while God accepts our prayers, as Jews we don’t just pray for problems to go away. We are a religion and a people of action, of deeds. So let us not just sit and believe and hope and pray that things will change but rather let us do what God and Judaism demand of us. That we act, we act, and we act, to create the type of society, country and community we all know we are capable of creating, without excuses and without blame. In the words of the great sage Hillel, “Im Lo Achshav Aimatai.” If Not Now, When? Shabbat Shalom

More Seders Please!

Did you ever wonder why we still need to observe Passover beyond the Seders? What purpose does it serve? None I guess, unless we want to have more Seders. And yes, that's my suggestion. Have more Seders.

Now the concept might sound silly. One Seder is enough. Two is more than enough. Why would anyone want more?

Well, the more I think about it, the more I'm coming to the conclusion that more Seders actually is a good and beneficial thing for the Jewish community and faith.

Let me tell you why.

So that we continue observing the holiday. Just because there are no more Seders doesn't mean that we stop observing the holiday after the Seders are done.

In other words, don't think that Passover is "over" when the Seders are done, and its goodbye until the next big event. Rosh Hashanah!

Jews are drawn to the Seder, the primary observance of Passover. Jews gather for Seders with family and community in numbers that are quite remarkable. According to recent studies, seventy five percent of Jews have some sort of Seder, even if it's only a family dinner that they call a Seder. The Seder is the most observed Jewish ritual, followed by the lighting of Hanukkah candles.

But in this age of individualism, for one or two nights anyway, we all become part of a community. We forget about our individual needs and focus on our families, friends and community.

We celebrate this holiday together. While plenty of Jews stay home by themselves on the High Holidays, on Passover, they at least invite others into their homes and they observe and dine together.

In other words, the single commandment instructing every generation of Jews to tell the story of redemption from Egypt brings Jews together. Even if only for a night or two, we move away from our aloneness into an encounter with one another and our tradition at our Seder tables.

The great sage Hillel had a saying in Pirkei Avot. He said "do not separate yourself from the community." And you know what, perhaps he had Passover in mind when he said it.

Why do I say this? Because what happens after the Seders are over? We go back to our lives as individuals. We separate ourselves from the family and friends and communities that we were just a part of.

It is better to be alone. It is easier to live alone. This way I can make or break all the rules that I want.

But the fact that Passover is a weeklong celebration culminating with a seventh day holiday comes to teach us that the community feeling that we enjoyed that first and second night should not be extinguished just because there is no formal Seder the rest of the week.

Every night during the Passover holiday can be an occasion for a Seder. It doesn't need to be the Seder of the Haggadah. It doesn't need to be the Seder of the four cups of wine, and afikomen, and bitter herbs. Or even a huge meal! But it is, and can be, a Seder of family, of friends, and of community.

It can, and must, be another opportunity to get together with fellow Jews over leftovers (and let's face it, who doesn't have leftovers after the Seder) to maybe talk about how your particular Seders went, or to talk about any other topic of interest.

In fact, believe it or not, a few years ago I actually had a seventh night Seder. We drank four cups of water because tradition says that on the seventh day of Passover is when the Israelites crossed the Red Sea.

So talk about the crossing of the Red Sea. Talk about Miriam's cup. Talk about current events. Talk about Israel. Talk about Judaism. Talk about any of the topics that you couldn't get to on the first two nights because of time constraints. Or talk about anything that is on your minds. But at least get together and talk.

Because however you slice it, however you want to handle it, the seven days of Passover present us with the opportunity, since we can't go anywhere else, to reconnect with our family, friends, and community.

The Seder teaches us many lessons. And these lessons should not only be remembered and acted upon only once or twice each year.

We read 'ha lachma anya." Let all who are hungry come and eat. Shouldn't we adhere to this all year round by inviting people, whether they be friends or strangers, to come and dine with us?

We read the four questions. We read "you shall teach your children." Can't we do that all year round? Can't we gather at any time during the year and ask questions about why we as Jews observe Shabbos? Can't we gather every week over a Shabbos dinner for example, and engage in a Shabbat Seder, a discussion about what Shabbos means? We can do it on Shabbat. We can do it anytime. We can do it with family and friends. We can do it with strangers. We can share it with our community.

We don't have to limit the joy of the Seder experience to only one or two nights each year. We can do it this whole week. We can do it anytime during the year.

Passover is a weeklong holiday to remind us that what we experienced doesn't end after the Seders and it doesn't even end after Yizkor. So in the remaining days of this holiday, let us make an effort to continue the good feelings that we had those first two nights.

Let the memories of those Seders influence us for not only the rest of the week, but for the rest of the year as well. Not as a burden. But as a sign of joy and celebration, and family, friends and community.

How Christian Were the Founders?

In today's New York Times Magazine there is an important article by Russell Shorto entitled "How Christian Were The Founders?" The article details the efforts of the Texas School Board to include more references in the Social Studies curriculum to America being a Christian nation and founded by Christians on Christian principles. It is a lengthy article but worth the read.

The article can be found here -

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/14/magazine/14texbooks-t.html?pagewanted=1&ref=magazine


Here are just a few quotes so you can get a flavor of it:

"..... they hold that the United States was founded by devout Christians and according to biblical precepts.... When they proclaim that the United States is a "Christian nation," they are not referring to the percentage of the population that ticks a certain box in a survey or census but to the country’s roots and the intent of the founders."

"Many of the points that have been incorporated into the guidelines or that have been advanced by board members and their expert advisers slant toward portraying America as having a divinely preordained mission.... The language in the Mayflower Compact... describes the Pilgrims' journey as being "for the Glory of God and advancement of the Christian Faith" and thus instills the idea that America was founded as a project for the spread of Christianity. In a book she wrote two years ago, Cynthia Dunbar, a board member... quoted the document and then said, "This is undeniably our past, and it clearly delineates us as a nation intended to be emphatically Christian."

“Many of us recognize that Judeo-Christian principles were the basis of our country and that many of our founding documents had a basis in Scripture. As we try to promote a better understanding of the Constitution, federalism, the separation of the branches of government, the basic rights guaranteed in the Bill of Rights, I think it will become evident to students that the founders had a religious motivation.”

"In the new guidelines, students taking classes in U.S. government are asked to identify traditions that informed America’s founding, “including Judeo-Christian (especially biblical law),” and to “identify the individuals whose principles of law and government institutions informed the American founding documents,” among whom they include Moses. The idea that the Bible and Mosaic law provided foundations for American law has taken root in Christian teaching about American history."

"In 2008, Cynthia Dunbar published a book called “One Nation Under God,” in which she stated more openly than most of her colleagues have done the argument that the founding of America was an overtly Christian undertaking and laid out what she and others hope to achieve in public schools. “The underlying authority for our constitutional form of government stems directly from biblical precedents,” she writes. “Hence, the only accurate method of ascertaining the intent of the Founding Fathers at the time of our government’s inception comes from a biblical worldview.”

This is just a small sample of what's going on in Texas.

While I'm certainly not an expert on this, here's my take on the notion that America was founded as a "Christian nation" or on Christian principles. Yes, America was founded by men who were Christian, and yes, for many their Christian faith played a large role in their fight for American independence and freedom. But they had varying views and opinions on what that Christianity meant and for many that included the view that their religious beliefs should not be made a part of the new government. And since many of them came to America to escape religious persecution they were intent on granting religious liberty to all, not dictating to anyone what he or she should or shouldn't believe, and most importantly not establishing a national religion or any one particular theological viewpoint.

If anyone wants to read a well-balanced book on this subject I recommend Founding Faith: How Our Founding Fathers Forged a Radical New Approach to Religious Liberty by Steven Waldman.

Some Thoughts On The Third Commandment

What makes the Ten Commandments so special, so important, that so many people insist on placing monuments depicting them in public places or on courtroom walls? Why are the Ten Commandments seen as such a cornerstone to Judeo-Christian legal principles?

And for Jews, are the Ten Commandments that much more important than any of the other six hundred and three commandments? Or do we only consider them more important because God spoke them to the entire Israelite nation?

While I would agree that their importance stems from our collective experience of receiving them at Mount Sinai, I would also like to offer another reason. And that is that the ten commandments are important and memorable because of their relative simplicity.

"I am the Lord Your God who brought you out of Egypt. Remember the Sabbath. Honor your father and mother. Do not kill. Do not steal."

But there is one commandment out of these ten which I don't believe fits this bill. I don't believe it is quite as straightforward as it otherwise may seem.

Take a look at the Third Commandment. In English it's usually translated as “you shall not take God’s name in vain.” But what does that actually mean? What does it mean to not “take” God’s name? And what does it mean “in vain?”

I want to offer this definition because I believe it has so much more meaning in today's world than merely taking God's name in vain.

Rabbi Joseph Telushkin wrote the following in his book Jewish Literacy.

“Many people think that this means that you have to write God as G-d, or that it is blasphemous to say words such as goddamn. Even if these assumptions are correct, it's still hard to figure out what makes this offense so heinous that it’s included in the document that forbids murdering, stealing, idolatry, and adultery. However, the Hebrew, Lo Tisa, literally means “you shall not carry God’s name in vain.”

In other words, don’t use God as your justification in selfish causes.

According to Telushkin, the prohibition is not in merely using God’s name. The prohibition is the actions you take in the name of God.

Let me see if I can drive this point home more clearly.

We are not permitted to justify illegal or evil acts by saying that they mandated by God. We can never use God as an excuse or justification to do evil, to otherwise violate the laws of civilization and the laws of the Torah.

Think about the world we live in. Think about the religious fanatics, fanatics and zealots of all religions - Jews, Christians and Muslims - who kill innocent people and commit other horrendous acts, all in the name of God.

I believe that the third commandment warns against that. It warns us in no uncertain terms that we cannot go around defending our lawless actions by constantly claiming that they have God's seal of approval. It warns us that we cannot use the Ten Commandments, or the Torah, or God, as a sword, as a way of coercing others that our understanding of God is the true and correct one. It tells us in no uncertain terms that being "holier than thou" is not acceptable.

Remember Dr. George Tiller, the Kansas abortion doctor who was murdered? His killer's defense was based on fulfilling God's directive to save unborn children. That is taking God's name in vain. That is a violation the third commandment

Let God punish those who He believes takes his name in vain. But we should never take the law into our own hands and then use God as our justification for doing so.

At the National Prayer Breakfast in Washington the other day Secretary of State Hilary Clinton said the following, which is certainly apropos to my message here this morning.

"All religions have their version of the Golden Rule and direct us to love our neighbor and welcome the stranger.... Yet across the world, we see organized religion standing in the way of faith, perverting love, undermining that message...

Religion, cloaked in naked power lust, is used to justify horrific violence, attacks on homes, markets, schools, volleyball games, churches, mosques, synagogues, temples.... Religion is used to enshrine in law intolerance of free expression and peaceful protest. Iran is now detaining and executing people under a new crime – waging war against God."

That is why we must remain committed and proactive in speaking up about the perversion of religion, and in particularly the use of it to promote and justify terrorism.

I want to share with you a positive way to look at this otherwise ambiguous third commandment.

In response to the Haitian earthquake, President Obama said, "We unite, recognizing that there but for the grace of God go I, recognizing that life's most sacred responsibility -- one affirmed, by all of the world's great religions -- is to sacrifice something of ourselves for a person in need."

In other words, we can interpret the third commandment not merely as a prohibition on taking God's name in vain, or sitting around and waiting for God to help, but as an affirmative obligation to do good for others in God's name, on using God's name only when we do good and not evil for others, and by giving God credit for our doing good in this world.

To sum it all up, we should only use God's name to promote righteousness and justice and love and peace. And we must never use God to justify any illegal or unjust actions. In Judaism we have a name for this. It's called Kiddush Hashem, the sanctification of God's name. May we continue to lead our lives with this commandment always as our guide.

Who is a Jew? - The Jewish Free School Case

In a decision that has gone mostly unnoticed by the American media, last week Britain's Supreme Court issued a ruling whose impact is potentially quite damaging to the Jewish community. The court held that defining one's membership in the Jewish faith on parentage alone is "racist and discriminatory."

Now in all fairness, Britain has no written constitution, no constitutional separation of church and state, and apparently no abstention doctrine whereby the courts won't get involved in deciding religious doctrinal matters. It also directly funds parochial schools. Thus, the likelihood of a similar case and a similar decision occurring in the United States is relatively small. Nevertheless, this case bears commenting on because of its implications for the Jewish community.

The case involved the Jewish Free School, a government funded Jewish school in London, which under British law, as a "faith school," is allowed to give preference to members of the Jewish religion in admissions, although it is barred from discriminating on racial grounds.

A student applied for admission to this school but was turned down because his mother wasn't born Jewish. The child and the mother were converted to Judaism by a Progressive rabbi, a conversion which was not recognized by Britain's Orthodox establishment. Britain's chief rabbi therefore ruled that the child was not Jewish and not eligible for admission to the JFS. The child's parents then sued the school claiming racial discrimination.

Whether this child's conversion was valid or not is not the issue. The issue here is that the courts decided the question of "who is a Jew?" And they decided that basing one's membership in the Jewish faith on lineage and parentage is discriminatory and racist. In other words the Supreme Court effectively said that Judaism's way of defining its own membership, as practiced for over 3,500 years, is illegal.

The Court's decision thus requires Jewish schools to rely on the belief and practice of a child to determine if that child is Jewish and eligible for admission to a Jewish school. Synagogue attendance, observing holidays and participating in Jewish rituals will now be the deciding factors in determining if one is Jewish or not.

Why belief and practice? Because those are the criteria for determining religion in the Christian world. And now, in England, those are the criteria in the Jewish world as well. As Lord Brown noted, essentially we must now apply a "non-Jewish definition of who is Jewish."

And you know what the ironic part of this decision really is? Hitler didn't care if a Jew practiced Judaism or not, was observant or not, or was converted by the Orthodox or Progressive or Conservative or Reform. To Hitler if you had Jewish blood, if an ancestor was Jewish, then you were Jewish. At least Hitler understood the importance of parentage to Judaism.

While I'm sure many might be glad that the Court struck down an Orthodox-only standard of conversion, bear in mind that this decision also essentially struck down a Reform standard of patrilineal descent and any other standard of lineal descent as well.

When the secular authorities begin to determine "who is a Jew," when the courts choose sides in an inter-denominational debate on the validity of conversions, on how we define our own membership criteria, or on any other standard of religious practice, there can be no good result. And I have no doubt that this decision will also be used by anti-Jewish groups, which are growing in strength and numbers throughout the world, to support their contention that Judaism is racist and that the state of Israel is the equivalent of apartheid South Africa.

Angels Among Us

While the metaphor of Jacob's ladder is well known and I've spoken about it on many occasions, what are we to make of the angels who are going up and down that ladder?

What exactly is an angel anyway? And what does Judaism have to say about angels?

Now I could use the metaphor of the angels in Jacob's dream to just say that the angels going up and down the ladder symbolize our ups and downs of life. But that would be too easy and too simplistic because Judaism sees angels as much more than just that.

Jewish mysticism tells us that there resides in each of us a good angel and an evil angel. Our every step is therefore guided and accompanied by both good and bad angels. It also teaches that even in the next world, angels accompany man where, depending upon our life on earth, we are received either by the angels of peace or by the angels of destruction.

I think that there are two ways to see the true angels that Judaism offers us today. Although they are related, they both involve seeing something angelic in others.

One has to do with elevating ourselves in holiness, to become more godlike. And the other involves seeing angels in others, who exist in our lives to help us through difficult times and enlighten us and brighten our lives.

To explain this a bit further I want to return to Jacob's dream of angels climbing up and down a ladder.

The rabbinic commentator Joseph B’khor Shor (I love that name) argues that it is very significant that the angels are first climbing up the ladder and only then coming down because it signifies that the angels were first coming up from earth in order to get to heaven. And that is the way in which we human beings, people, typically climb ladders.

Shor then tells us that if the angels are truly going up to heaven from earth, that might just mean that the angels' origin is in the earth below rather than in the heavens above.

Think about that. This idea suggests that angels, divine messengers, are of possible earthly origin, and therefore are truly in our midst. To put it another way, Shor suggests that angels are human. That angels are truly among us. That our neighbor could be an angel. Or perhaps a family member. Or a friend.

Too often we tend to believe that godly acts are sent from one direction only - from heaven down to us on earth. But Shor's theory makes us think of the possibility that the word of God or Godly acts originate here on earth and not in heaven. That goodness and godliness just might originate from each one of us.

Which is why we must always act like earthly angels of God, inspiring others to holiness, bringing others closer to God and helping others with the ups and downs of life.

But using this definition, we must also open our eyes to the possibility that God does send us angels, even today. But today they appear in human form, in the form of those who we encounter in our lives. Sometimes these angels in our lives serve to bring us closer to God. And sometimes these angels appear at just the right time, when we need them the most.

And sometimes these angels are just there for comfort and support, to help us out of difficult situations, to provide encouragement and joy, to brighten our days, and to offer unconditional love. Sometimes they inspire us in so many ways, to be and to do our best.

We never know when these angels come into our lives. But when they do come in, hold on to them, for they are special people. And don't ever let them go.

And if we do see angels in others, when we do truly appreciate how they have helped us, then we should take some of that inspiration, some of that angel dust, and use it to be angels for others. Because that is how we can make earth a little more like heaven. By being angels and climbing that ladder.

May we all be a little more angelic in our lives, and in the process help others to fulfill their potential to be more angel-like as well. In other words, may we all be touched by an angel.

A Serious Man - A Serious Thought

I want to bring up one aspect of the new Coen Brothers movie "A Serious Man."

I personally liked it. The friends I saw it with liked it. My wife hated it. I know many rabbis who loved it and many who also hated it.

It was that kind of movie that evoked such visceral reactions and emotions.

I don't want to give away anything about the movie for those of you who haven't seen it yet, but I want to highlight one particular aspect of the movie.

You see in this movie, when the protagonist, a Jewish man named Larry, has problems with his life, he turns to his Jewish faith and he seeks out spiritual guidance from his rabbi.

And what does his rabbi say?

"These questions that are bothering you, Larry, maybe they're like a toothache. We feel them for a while, then they go away."

Larry responds, "I don't want it to just go away! I want an answer!"

To which the rabbi responds - "The answer! Sure! We all want the answer! But Hashem doesn't owe us the answer, Larry. Hashem doesn't owe us anything. The obligation runs the other way.

Larry - "Why does he make us feel the questions if he's not gonna give us any answers?"

The rabbi smiles at Larry and says "He hasn't told me."

Now in the context of the entire movie, this bit of dialogue might not get noticed. But I believe that this dialogue might really just be the whole point in our seeking God and seeking answers to our questions.

And that answer sometimes is, we just don't know. God hasn't told us. And besides, who are we to think that God owes us any answers in the first place.

We don't know what life has in store for us and we don't know what God's master plan for us is.

But I also believe that the rabbi did share an important piece of wisdom with Larry. He said "the obligation runs the other way."

In other words, instead of blaming God for not getting back to us, we should rather focus on our own lives and figure out what we owe God.

Because if we take the attitude that we owe so much to God, that we should be grateful to God and yet not expect anything from him, then maybe, as I've said a few times this week in my classes, then maybe, by just being good and moral and ethical, God will answer us, he will give us that new bicycle for Christmas!!

But the bottom line here is that everyone has trouble in life. Not just Larry. Not just bad people. Not just people who don't believe in God. But good people, God-fearing people, observant people, all people, have troubles in their lives.

Even Rebecca had trouble with her children and family, as did Abraham, Jacob, and yes, even Moses and King David.

So who are we to say that we shouldn't have any trouble in our lives?

The question is how do we react when we face those troubles. How do we deal with these problems?

Do we turn to God and to our faith, or do we run away from it?

Hopefully, it's the former.

But this is what I believe to be true. We must always continue to seek God. We must always continue to seek his hand in the solutions to life's problem. But whether you seek these solutions from a rabbi or from some other source, remember that even if you don't get the answer you want, or even if you don't get any answer for that matter, by seeking, by continuing to search, you are saying, loud and clear, that you still want the answer, that you are still willing to look for it, and that you are still open to the possibility that there is an answer out there.

It means that you haven't lost faith. It means that despite everything, you still have faith in God.

And that is why we must always keep searching for these answers. That is why we must always keep searching for God, even if God or his earthly representatives aren't able to give us the definitive answer, or any answer for that matter.

But I will leave you with this one piece of advice, a starting point on your own search, if you will.

As I quoted earlier, during the movie Larry asks what is perhaps the most important question of all, "why does God make us feel the questions, if he isn't going to give us the answers?"

One answer from the movie is a quote from Rashi, which just might be the best advice we can have in life.

And that is "receive with simplicity everything that happens to you."

May everything that happens to us be for good and for a blessing. But if not, then let us learn to receive the bad not only with simplicity, but with faith in God that it will ultimately turn out for the best.

Good!

I have a friend who is an actuary for a large insurance company. She was working on a 63 page memo for work and needed information from another actuary. So she asked this other actuary how the company had done on a specific mortality assumption.

His answer was straightforward. "Good."

Now we might understand that word and need no further elaboration. But in a world of statistics, risk ratios and probabilities, "good" needs to be quantified. How much is good? 10% better than we expected, 25%; 50%, 75%? We don't know.

In life too, we often use the term good. And we think we know what it means. But if you say you are having a "good" day or someone has a "good" life, what does that really mean?

Take Abraham for example, who along with his wife Sarah dies this in this week's parasha. Did Abraham have a "good" life?

The Torah tells us that Abraham was old, advanced in years and God had blessed him with everything. And later on it tells us that Abraham lived to a "good" old age. But the point the Torah is trying to make is that unlike in the actuarial field, we don't really have to quantify what a good life is. We know it not by math, but by our actions and what we leave to others.

That is why the Torah tells us that Abraham lived a good life only after he made sure that his affairs were taken care of. It means that Abraham made sure that Isaac had found a wife, that he had given the children of his pilegeshes, his concubines, some gifts before sending them away, and that he had prepared a Will which left everything he had to Isaac, his long awaited and beloved son. Having done all that, Abraham can say "mission accomplished," and that indeed life had been "good."

That is certainly one way to define "good." It's not mathematically or statistically quantifiable. But it's something we know and feel, and something we may not even realize until we're gone.

That is why you should read the story entitled "Saga of a Muslim Soldier, which is quite interesting on so many levels and can be found here in the Fall edition of Reform Judaism magazine http://reformjudaismmag.org/Articles/index.cfm?id=1508.

After reading Mr. Hill's story, tell me. Who has led a "good" life?

Can we say that the old rabbi led a "good" life? Can we say that Mr. Al Amin has led a "good" life? He certainly has led an interesting life.

But I can tell you this.

Abraham is said to have led a "good" life because of the influence he has had on others, because his son Isaac followed in his footsteps and kept up the family tradition.

So again I ask you, can we really quantify what we mean when we say "good."

Being "good," doing "good," having a "good life," and living to a "good" old age are not things that we can mathematically or statistically quantify or describe. But remember that "good" is something we know and feel and something we may not even realize until we're gone.

To paraphrase the words in The Prayer for Our Country, "may we all be an influence for good throughout the world."

A Cross For All

Now that the holidays are over I can perhaps begin commenting on some religion issues. Here's one such issue.

Last week the U.S. Supreme Court heard oral arguments in Salazar v. Buono, a case involving a constitutional challenge to the presence of an eight-foot-tall Christian cross in the Mojave National Preserve in San Bernardino County, Calif. The case arose when Frank Buono, a former assistant superintendent of the preserve, filed a lawsuit demanding that the National Park Service, which administers the preserve, remove the cross. Buono argued that because the cross is on government land it amounts to a government endorsement of religion and thus violates the Establishment Clause of the First Amendment.

While the argument before the Court encompassed many issues aside from the Establishment Clause one, this exchange between Justice Scalia and Buono's attorney, Peter Eliasberg, is most interesting:

JUSTICE SCALIA: The cross doesn't honor non-Christians who fought in the war? Is that -- is that -

MR. ELIASBERG: I believe that's actually correct.

JUSTICE SCALIA: Where does it say that?

MR. ELIASBERG: It doesn't say that, but a cross is the predominant symbol of Christianity and it signifies that Jesus is the son of God and died to redeem mankind for our sins, and I believe that's why the Jewish war veterans -

JUSTICE SCALIA: It's erected as a war memorial. I assume it is erected in honor of all of the war dead. It's the -- the cross is the -- is the most common symbol of -- of -- of the resting place of the dead, and it doesn't seem to me -- what would you have them erect? A cross -- some conglomerate of a cross, a Star of David, and you know, a Moslem half moon and star?

MR. ELIASBERG: Well, Justice Scalia, if I may go to your first point. The cross is the most common symbol of the resting place of Christians. I have been in Jewish cemeteries. There is never a cross on a tombstone of a Jew. (Laughter.)

MR. ELIASBERG: So it is the most common symbol to honor Christians.

JUSTICE SCALIA: I don't think you can leap from that to the conclusion that the only war dead that that cross honors are the Christian war dead. I think that's an outrageous conclusion.

MR. ELIASBERG: Well, my -- the point of my -- point here is to say that there is a reason the Jewish war veterans came in and said we don't feel honored by this cross. This cross can't honor us because it is a religious symbol of another religion.

Interesting exchange, huh?

The only conclusion I can draw from this is that Justice Scalia believes that the Cross is a universal symbol for respecting all the dead.

I don't know who should be more offended by that, Christians or non-Christians!

Here is the only way one can put this in perspective. Watch Steven Colbert's explanation of this exchange :

http://www.colbertnation.com/the-colbert-report-videos/252639/october-13-2009/the-word---symbol-minded

Baseball and Yizkor

I want to talk about baseball and Yizkor because baseball is a great metaphor for Yizkor, in its simplicity and in the memories of our past and our present that it can evoke.

Like religion, among family, baseball can be a unifying force for good. It’s something that can be shared with the whole family and whose memories can be passed down from generation to generation.

Did you ever see Babe Ruth play? Or maybe it was Joe DiMaggio or Willie Mays. Can you tell those stories to your children and grandchildren? Can you take your grandchild to a game and watch today’s stars while telling him or her about yesterday’s? The ones you idolized as a kid.

And can you develop a bond, a closeness, that your grandchild will remember and then tell his or her children? Can you envision a time where your child or grandchild, after you’re gone, can turn to his child or grandchild and say, your great-grandfather took me to see Derek Jeter. Let me tell you about him.

These are memories. This is how we make memories. Simple yet effective. That is Yizkor.

Forty years ago the New York Mets won the World Series. Do you remember that? Certainly if you were from New York and rooted for the Mets you do. It seems like ages ago and yet it seems like it was only yesterday.

This summer, forty years after they won the World Series, most of the surviving members of the team got together for a reunion. Yes, they celebrated their remarkable achievement. But in the process they also reflected on their losses as well.

In getting together with old teammates and friends, Tom Seaver, the Hall of Fame pitcher, said "It is no doubt the highlight of my baseball life. Winning the World Series changes your life. There's a closeness that comes from it, you're kind of like brothers to your teammates. You have a much different relationship with them when you have that in common."

And then Seaver went on, in words that are eerily reminiscent of what we do at Yizkor, "There will be a lot of laughs. Some tears, too," as he listed the names of players and coaches who have passed away since 1969, like Tommie Agee, Don Cardwell, Donn Clendenon, pitching coach Rube Walker, Tug McGraw, and of course the manager of that team, Gil Hodges.

"Most importantly, at the back of everybody's mind will be Gil," Seaver added. "He won't be there, but he will be there, you know?"

Isn't that what Yizkor is about? Highlights of your life, closeness to family and friends, shared memories? And by getting together for a reunion, whether it's a baseball team or a family, we share these memories, we reminisce, we remember these events.

We laugh. And yes, we cry.

And there's more to the Mets story. You see, this year the Mets moved to a new ballpark, called Citifield. For a number of these former players, it was the first time they were at this new ballpark. And they noticed something, as did many of the fans.

The new park payed homage to a lot of memories. But memories of the old Brooklyn Dodgers and New York Giants. Where were the memories of the old Mets, they asked? They were not to be found.

And so the old players and the new fans complained to Mets management. And management listened and included more memories of the old Mets in the new ballpark.

Why? Because to us, that too, is important. It's a Yizkor.

We need a Yizkor when we come to the ballpark. We want our experience to not only be about the current team, about the present. We want it, we need it, to also be about our past. We need it so that we can share it with others who we bring to that game. Where we can sit and talk, and bond and reminisce, and share memories.

Here's such a memory.

Steve Monforto has been coming to Philadelphia Phillies games since he was three years old. On September 15 he was at a game with his wife and two daughters. And at that game he finally caught his first foul ball.

After trading fist bumps with nearby fans, Monforto high-fived his 3-year-old daughter Emily, and handed the ball to her. It was the natural thing for any father to do, right? Then Emily threw the ball back.

After a lifetime of coming to baseball games, Monforto finally catches a foul ball. And his daughter throws it away.

So what did Monforto do? In an image now captured on the internet, his immediate reaction was to hug his little girl. (http://florida.marlins.mlb.com/news/article.jsp?ymd=20090916&content_id=7000336&vkey=news_mlb&fext=.jsp&c_id=mlb)

That was the real story of the game right there, a father hugging his little girl to assure her that she did nothing wrong, a public rite of passage to which so many parents can relate.

"I think she was a little startled by the reaction," he explained. "I just wanted her to know it was OK."

That's baseball. And that's Yizkor.

Even baseball can serve to remind us that Yizkor, that life, is a shared experience which does not have to be limited to a particular place and a particular time.