Looking Down
Erev Rosh Ha Shanah 5766
Rabbi Joseph R. Black
Congregation Albert -
Albuquerque, NM
My Dear Friends,
L'shanah Tovah. Looking out at all of you here tonight, it's hard to imagine that I am beginning my tenth year as your Rabbi. It truly seems like only yesterday that Sue, Elana, Ethan and I arrived here in Albuquerque. Nine years ago when I first stood in front of you on this pulpit - most of you were strangers. Ethan was in diapers and Elana was starting Kindergarten. Coming from Minneapolis to New Mexico was quite a transition: We had no idea what to expect. And now we have experienced so much together: we have shared simchas and sorrows; we have watched our congregation grow. We have all learned and grown together. I feel blessed to have been able to serve as your Rabbi these past 9 years, and I look ahead to continuing for many more years to come, God willing.
I want to begin my remarks tonight by asking you a question: Have you ever seen the stars? I mean REALLY seen them - far away from the glare of the city- where nothing comes between you and the amazing carpet of glowing lights that remind you of how small you are and, yet how lucky you are to be alive? Have you seen the Milky Way? Have you gazed into eternity?
I have - but it took me a while to realize what I was seeing.
This past summer, Sue and I went on a week-long rafting trip with friends in the Grand Canyon. For seven glorious days we floated down the Colorado River, braved roaring rapids, hiked into beautiful side canyons, traversed narrow ledges, jumped off waterfalls, explored ancient ruins and slept under the most amazing stars we had ever seen.
I am told that less than a million people from around the world have rafted the Colorado since it was opened to commercial expeditions in the late 1950's. Countless millions have come to the Grand Canyon, however. They have looked down into its depths, seen the beauty - some may have walked partway down a trail; some may have taken a mule ride. Others are content to merely drive up to the edge, look in, and then move on to the souvenir shops. But so few have had the experience of spending days at the bottom - riding the ferocious currents of the Colorado, sleeping on its beaches; taking it all in. Truly it is a life-changing experience.
Now it's important that I insert a disclaimer here: Lest anyone think that Sue and I were "roughing it" on our trip, it's important to note that we ate delicious meals; that our motorized raft was piloted by an experienced river guide and crew who steered us skillfully across the currents and took very good care of us. While the rapids were intense, we never felt in real danger. Our seven-day trip did not qualify us as experts in the Canyon by any means. And yet, I'm proud to say that we were there - in places that few others have seen. And it changed us.
The experience of rafting the canyon was something that is almost impossible to put into words. You are simultaneously aware of how lucky you are to be able to witness the extraordinary beauty, immensity of time, and grandeur of God's creation, yet you feel small and insignificant in the presence of the canyon's towering walls, magnificent wildlife, and ancient crevices and rock formations.
It took a few days on our raft to allow the canyon to envelop us. We needed to "decompress" from the business of daily life: to be in a place where there were no cell phones or computers - no artificial distractions - only the blistering heat of the sun and the bracing coldness of the Colorado River to consume our attention. Each swirling rapid we encountered took us further and further away from the stresses and petty concerns of daily life. At nighttime, lying on our sleeping bags, the stars took on new meaning the longer we were in the canyon. We began to see them - not merely as beautiful lights in the sky, or solar systems, or potential life on other planets - but rather as beacons of perspective: their vastness and incomprehensibility served to temper our hubris and self-involvement. People have asked me if being in the Canyon was a spiritual experience and, I guess the answer would have to be, yes, it was - but not in the way that one might think.
Rabbi Larry Hoffman writes:
"….[S]pirituality is our way of being in the world, the system of connectedness by which we make sense of our lives, how we overlay our autobiography in the making with a template of time and space and relationship that is vastly greater than we know ourselves individually to be. It is the way we dimly find our way to how we matter, the maps we use for things like history and destiny, the way we take a jumble of sensory data and shape it coherently into a picture, the way discordant noise becomes a symphony of being, the way we know that we belong to the drama of the universe. It is the wonderfully enchanting but equally rational way we go on our way of growing up and growing older in the mysterious business we call life."
Hoffman, Larry The Journey Home: Discovering the Deep Spiritual Wisdom of the Jewish Tradition. Beacon Press, 2002 p. 17
In other words, Spirituality is all about perspective. It is the way in which we clearly see God's world and, in the process of doing so, find meaning in what we are seeing.
We didn't find God in the Grand Canyon - at least I didn't—but we did experience God's creation without the distractions and seductions of daily life with which civilization snares us each morning when we open our eyes. Our week in the Canyon changed us - not from a physical perspective - but, rather it helped us to see things differently.
Coming back to civilization was quite a shock. We emerged from the depths and immediately flew back to Paige, AZ - where we began our journey. At Paige, we saw others who had visited the Canyon: those who like us were covered with the red dust that the centuries had deposited in the depths, and those who were not so tired and dirty — the ones who were content to just look - to get a taste of what was hidden below, take a picture, and then move on to the next stop on their itinerary.
I have to say, I felt sorry for those who only got a "taste" of the canyon. They had no idea of what they were missing. Viewing the canyon from above, while breathtakingly beautiful is akin to admiring the craftsmanship of a musical instrument without ever hearing the music that flows from it.
Now I know that it is not feasible for everyone to experience the Canyon from the river. There are a limited number of spaces available on trips. There are costs involved. Despite the fact that many rafting companies have provisions for people of all ages with a wide variety of abilities - from severely disabled to experienced outdoorsman, not everyone has the time, financial resources, physical stamina, or stomach to spend an entire week on a rafting trip. For some, the thought of spending even one day, let alone a whole week on a raft, is akin to flying to the moon. And yet, there are many who would love this experience and who never will take advantage of it - who will never find the time - who will never know what they are missing.
The truth is, the Grand Canyon can be a metaphor for so many aspects of our lives. How many of us never fully experience the wonders that surround us - even when they are within easy reach? How often do we neglect essential relationships, or fail to see the beauty and opportunities for growth that God gives us every day? How often are we content to merely stand on the edge and look down at life - instead of diving in ourselves?
Nowhere is this more evident than in the way we view our Jewish identity.
One of the purposes of the Yamim Noraim - these Days of Awe - is to provide ourselves with an opportunity to examine the way that we have been living our lives until this point. This is a time of year when everything is crisp and clearly defined. It is a time of great spirituality - as Rabbi Hoffman has taught - it is a time of perspective - of stripping away pretense and focusing on those aspects of our lives that are most important. The Shofar calls us to return - to God, to our faith, to our essential relationships, to ourselves.
And so, tonight, I want you to think about how you feel about your Judaism. Have you been fully engaged in Jewish life or have you been "standing on the edge" of your community?
These questions are not easy - they are not intended to be. Rosh Hashanah is a time for serious contemplation. If you feel that you are not as connected as you want to be - it's not too late. It's time to come home. We are more than ready to welcome you back.
I think of this congregation and the many ways that people have found meaning and purpose through their involvement here. So many of you give of your precious time, energy and resources by volunteering and participating in Temple life. You serve on our Board of Trustees and on committees; you sing in the Zamir; you teach in our religious school and come to Torah study. Every day that I walk into this building I come face to face with men and women who love being Jewish - who are eager to perform mitzvot: who worship here on a regular basis, who feed the hungry and visit the sick and infirm. Some of you are active in the greater Albuquerque Jewish community - serving on the boards of the Federation, JCC, Jewish Family service, Hillel or other Community organizations. Some of you send your children to Solomon Schechter Day school - a jewel in the crown of our community.
And yet, unfortunately, when we take a closer look at who is involved in the community and the congregation, all too often we see the same names listed - over and over again. Truth be told, those who are active in congregational and Jewish communal life are in the minority. For many of you - all too many — Congregation Albert and the Jewish community, are peripheral parts of your lives. All too often the Synagogue becomes a place to pass through when necessary - to remember a loved one or to share a simcha; to drop off children for religious school and pick them up again. To come to services on the High Holy Days. Some of you used to be very active in our congregation but, for whatever reason, you have chosen to take some "time off" - I understand that - but maybe it's time to come back. I'm here tonight to ask you - to challenge you — to re-think your priorities.
There have been too many times this past year when parents have shared with me their frustration at what they perceive as the excessive time demands that our Religious and Hebrew school place on their children. "My child has too much on their plate," they tell me. "Between soccer and music lessons, homework and extra-curricular activities, they have no time for Hebrew school. Can't they just get tutoring and skip coming to class?"
As a parent of two active students, I know how difficult it can be to juggle the myriad of demands that are placed on our youth. And yet, I also know that our children's involvement is a direct result of the priorities that we, as parents, place upon them. If something is important enough, we will find the time. Sometimes we have to come to terms with the fact that our children can't do everything. Some things may have to go. Instilling Jewish identity and teaching Jewish life skills are essential aspects of providing our children with a sense of healthy spirituality. It also serves to build our community and provide the next generation of Jews with a sense of belonging and wholeness. When Judaism is second or third in line behind soccer or music lessons, the message we are sending our children is that Jewish life is merely another "extra-curricular activity" to be slipped in between homework and TV. I don't accept that - neither should our children - neither should you.
Jewish demographic research has consistently shown that it takes a supreme effort to instill Jewish Identity in our children. If Judaism is presented as merely one additional activity in our children's lives that must compete with everything else, Judaism will lose - it's that simple. In a recent article, Dr. Sylvia Barack Fishman of Brandeis University wrote of how many parents use a "free market" model in determining their children's involvement in Jewish life. The amount of time that children spend in Jewish activities is measured against the perceived value of other activities. As such, the degree to which Jewish education is successful is directly a result of the effectiveness of the Jewish Community to provide resources and programs that will captivate them. In other words, if kids aren't interested in Hebrew School, then we have failed in providing them with a quality product.
Now, I agree with the concept that our Religious schools and youth programs must continually strive to create the best programs and opportunities for Jewish learning possible - we all do. But Dr. Barack-Fishman teaches that this kind of a model is doomed to failure because no matter how good or exciting the programs that are offered to our children, ultimately, secular culture - with its overwhelming presence and societal pressure to conform will, by default, become the dominant paradigm. Instead, she recommends viewing the transmission of Jewish culture and values in an ecological or agricultural model. As anyone who has ever tried to plant a garden will attest, certain plants need nurturing and protection against other, more dominant plants that have a tendency to take over. She writes:
"Gardeners often create a specific environment for particular plants to thrive. They know that if current conditions favor another species and if boundaries are not in place, the desired plant can falter and become an endangered species."
Sylvia Barack Fishman, "Cultivating Jewish Roots: Why American Judaism Should Advocate for Endogamy," Contact Magazine, Spring 2005 p.9
There are plants that are unique to the Grand Canyon. They can only grow within a certain, delicate ecosystem. If they were to be removed from the protecting walls, or brought to the surface and mixed with other plants—they would die. So too our faith. We must continue to nurture the unique and holy treasures that our tradition offers us and our children so that we can continue to grow.
And we are committed to doing just that. My friends, there are many changes taking place at Congregation Albert. We are growing - largely because of our ability to nurture one another. Growth is not easy - but it is essential and inevitable. This is an exciting time. Our board of trustees is finishing a strategic analysis process that will help us to plan for the future. As we look ahead, we see many challenges, but there are also wonderful opportunities as well.
Cantor Finn, during the past year, has brought a wonderful new energy and spirituality - not only to the pulpit and with the Zamir, but to everything that she does: from working with our children, to teaching in the classroom and the community.
Our new Interim Director of Education, Marcia Mermelstein, brings a wealth of experience and creativity with her as she helps us reconfigure our Staff. We are thrilled to welcome her to Congregation Albert and I know that she will be an important addition to our growth process.
Our ECC continues to thrive under the leadership of Bonnie Evnetsky.
Ilana Locke and the office staff continue to work diligently to insure that our congregation runs smoothly in the face of change and growth.
Our board of Trustees, under the leadership of our president, Shawn Perry-Turner, is comprised of a remarkably capable group of men and women who love this congregation and are absolutely dedicated to continuing our tradition of excellence.
Last year, from this pulpit I set forth a challenge to rethink the way we approach our youth. You responded. Our leadership has created a Youth Initiative that already has brought about significant change in the way we provide for our young people. Haley Feldman, our wonderful Rabbinic Youth Intern has energized our 4th-8th graders with her exciting programming and we have seen immediate results. Membership in TASTY is on the rise as well. Our Youth Initiative Task Force has requested that every member of the congregation fill out the surveys that were included in the bulletin and passed out at Religious School. If you have not already filled out your survey, please do so. Surveys will also be available in the lobby as you exit tonight and tomorrow. The future of our youth program looks very promising and I want to publicly thank the Board of Trustees for joining me and our young people in this process of evaluating and rebuilding.
Congregation Albert is not only a place for youth. We have so much to offer for everyone: opportunities for service, for study, for spiritual and intellectual growth. Take advantage of them: whether you come to Shabbat services and torah study, enroll in an adult education program, become involved in a Chavurah, brotherhood or sisterhood, serve on a committee, volunteer your time in the gift shop or the Temple Office, visit ill or infirm congregants, or sing in the Zamir - it doesn't matter - what DOES matter is that you are here - involved - part of us as we are a part of you.
My friends, tonight is Erev Rosh Ha Shanah. Tonight we have come together to celebrate the beginning of a New Year. Tomorrow morning, we will hear the sound of the shofar - calling us to Teshuvah - to returning — to coming home: to God, to Jewish life, to meaning and purpose.
Sue and I did not take many souvenirs from the Canyon. Photographs were inadequate to capture the grandeur of such a magnificent place. But we did bring back the knowledge that our lives were changed - for the better - for having been in the presence of something sacred. You don't need to travel to the Grand Canyon to find that. Its right here - ready for the taking. I ask you to join with me and our staff and leadership, as we work to build a congregation and community where everyone is fully present - and no one is looking down from above.
Ken Yehi Ratzon - L'Shanah Tovah Tikateyvu.