Categories
News Prayer Social Justice

Prayer for a Nation in Crisis

As Reform rabbis, we unequivocally oppose today’s tragic insurrection and attack on the U.S. Capitol and on American democracy. We pray for peace in our nation’s capital, for the safety of all, and for an end to the treacherous and divisive demagoguery that threatens our precious democracy and is a rejection of our foundational American values.

We’re grateful to Rabbi Barry Block for penning this prayer for a nation in crisis.

Gracious God,
We come before You as supplicants today,
Seeking comfort and hope,
As terror reigns at our nation’s Capitol,
Spreading fears of violence throughout our land.
We beseech You on this terrifying day:
Spread your shelter of peace
Over the United States of America,
Upon all who dwell within its borders.
Embolden every American
To defend democracy,
To uphold our Constitution,
To protect the First Amendment right to assemble in protest,
And to eschew violence and mayhem.
Sustain us in faith
That the “better angels of our nature”[i] will be victorious,
That democracy will triumph,
That peace will prevail.
Bless the Capitol Police,
And all who are entrusted with restoring peace in Washington
And throughout this land.
Grant wisdom to
The President,
The Vice-President,
And to every Senator and Member of Congress.
Be with the President-Elect and Vice President-Elect,
Charged with unifying
This divided country
In the days and weeks ahead.
We Jews have always been
“Prisoners of hope.”[ii]
Restore us to hope today.
Grant us trust,
Even on a terrible day,
That we may look forward to a new day dawning,
Speedily and soon.
Amen.

—

Rabbi Barry H. Block serves Congregation B’nai Israel in Little Rock, Arkansas. A member of the CCAR Board, he is the editor of  The Mussar Torah Commentary, CCAR Press, 2020.

[i] President Abraham Lincoln, First Inaugural Address, March 4, 1861.

[ii] Zechariah 9:12.

Categories
Books CCAR Press

Encountering the Divine with Poetry and Prayer

This Precious Life: Encountering the Divine with Poetry and Prayer completes Alden Solovy’s trilogy of books with CCAR Press. In the introduction, the author discusses the meaning of his work in a time of pandemic.

Jerusalem, Nisan, 5780/April 2020: I’m sitting at my desk, sheltering in place due to the coronavirus. In fifty years, when the coronavirus is a distant memory, please God—or perhaps by then all disease will have been wiped off the globe—some readers won’t know what I’m talking about. You do. Many of you, perhaps most, are doing the same thing in this precarious and surreal moment: protecting the preciousness of all human life—yours, your family’s, your neighbor’s—by drawing back from the world outside into the world within the walls of your own home.

The walls of my writing studio are covered with Jerusalem stone. My desk is a rickety home-office model, a put-it-together-yourself wood-simulation item purchased before IKEA was a thing. One wall of the study is lined with Jewish books, mostly siddurim, Torah commentaries, and other books of Jewish wisdom. Half of the bottom shelf is Hebrew-language books, a testament to my continued and only partially successful efforts to learn the holy tongue. The window faces east, my view through a tree-lined alley to a busy street that follows the 1949 armistice agreement line. The Old City is to the north. To pray, I swivel my chair ninety degrees to the left. The art on the wall behind me is Jewish, including a framed, hand-crocheted “Shalom” made by my Grandma Ida z”l, and a blessing for the home purchased with my wife, Ami z”l, too long ago to remember. My window ledge is full of family photos. As of this moment, everyone is healthy. Let it stay that way.

Some of you may have been sick or seriously ill with coronavirus. Some of you might be ill even now as I write or will, God forbid, become ill soon. Others may be grieving the death of a friend, a family member, or dear one. Some of you are walking into harm’s way to serve us: doctors, nurses, health-care professionals, police, fire, public safety, sanitation, food-chain workers, and more, all of the people in vital services. Each one of us is being asked—perhaps required—to consider what gives our lives meaning. What we value. Our connections. Our contributions. Our legacy. The past. The future. This very moment. This precious life. The place in which we encounter the Divine.

This is a book of prayers, poetry, and meditations inspired by divine encounters. The first half of the book draws from divine moments in our sacred texts, mostly Torah, but also the Prophets and the Writings. Written using a modern voice and a contemporary imagination, the text invites you to enter into these holy moments as experienced by our ancestors and to reclaim them as our own. The second half of the book focuses on holy moments in our daily lives, divine encounters that occur simply because we are human beings imbued with divinity. Divine encounters that occur because we’ve been given souls.

This book is a testimony to the preciousness of life. In the first half of the volume, you’ll walk with God in the garden, calling out to Adam and Eve. You’ll stand as witness to the moment of Creation, the Flood, the Tower of Babel, Jacob’s ladder, and the Golden Calf. You’ll hear the voices of Abraham, our father, and Sarah, our mother. You’ll leave Egypt, dance with Miriam by the sea, build the Tabernacle, and experience prophecy. You’ll encounter the Divine through experiences of our forebearers.

In the second half of the book, you’ll also be asked—perhaps challenged—to experience the Divine in your daily life. You’ll be asked to imagine flying between two horizons, step inside the light, and ride the river of life. You’ll encounter spiritual vandals. You’ll be asked to find the ethics in your eyes, the ethics in your hands, the ethics in your arms, and the ethics in your heart. You’ll experience the Divine in the poetry of living.

This Precious Life: Encountering the Divine with Poetry and Prayer is the third book in a trilogy with This Joyous Soul: A New Voice for Ancient Yearnings and This Grateful Heart: Psalms and Prayers for a New Day. This Grateful Heart focuses on time and seasons, providing prayers and meditations for our days, both the holy and the mundane. This Joyous Soul turns to the siddur, the prayer book, offering alternative readings for our classic liturgy. This Precious Life examines divine encounters in sacred texts and in our daily lives. This Precious Life is intended for personal meditation and communal prayer, as well as religious and spiritual counseling. As a book of meditations, it offers depth and breadth of emotion. As a spiritual guide, it brings intimacy and tenderness, humility and gratitude, supported by a foundation of strength, faith, and hope.

My goal in writing This Precious Life is to open you, the reader, to deeply experiencing moments of divine encounter using the liturgist’s hand and the poet’s eye to illuminate holy connection, to help you uplift your prayers and sing in praise. Along with those lofty ideas, there are practical uses for this volume. Use these offerings in your daily prayers, in writing divrei Torah, and in learning about and discussing the weekly parashah. Clergy and Jewish educators might consider using them as part of adult, teen, and Hebrew school education, as well as in Torah classes, sermons, conversion programs, counseling with congregants, and interfaith dialogue. Most importantly, my hope is that you are inspired to write new prayers in your own voice, based on your experiences of the Divine.

From here, sitting at my desk in Jerusalem, sheltering in place due to the coronavirus, it’s impossible to know what the state of the world—or the state of our worldview—will be when we return to the world or when you hold this book in your hands. What will happen to our trust, social interactions, the economy, our lives? How will we move through the world, day by day? How will the generation of children who sheltered at home be shaped by these precarious times?

This much is clear: This is a precious life. Your life. My life. Our lives. All precious. May we all live with a grateful heart and a joyous soul, sanctifying this precious life.

Alden Solovy is a liturgist and poet. He is the author of This Grateful Heart: Psalms and Prayers for a New Day, This Joyous Soul: A New Voice for Ancient Yearnings, and This Precious Life: Encountering the Divine with Poetry and Prayer, all published by CCAR Press.

Categories
Rituals

Celebrating Retirement: A Synagogue/Home Ritual

As rabbis, most of us are able to have a meaningful celebration when we retire, but many of our congregants don’t always have that opportunity. Recognizing that need, I created a ceremony that rabbis can share with members of their community to turn the milestone of their retirement into a sacred Jewish moment. This ritual can be performed with the retiree’s family and friends, whether on Zoom or, when safe and appropriate, in person in a synagogue setting.

Needed: challah, wine, and a candle.

Retiree: This is truly a sacred moment in my life. I have spent my life making a living and now have reached this moment of retirement, the beginning of a new adventure. As we do in all sacred moments, we say together the words of the Shehecheyanu (Hebrew and English).

I can only imagine how excited and overwhelmed with joy my parents (names) (“of blessed memory” or “who are with us this day”) were when I came into this world. (If retiree has children, include: “For I remember how excited (spouse’s name) and I were when we had (names of children).”

My childhood years were filled with joy and happiness. I remember (name some remembrances). There was also sorrow and sadness (name some remembrances). But I made it through those years and was better for it.

And the Lord spoke to Abraham and Sara saying: “Lech l’cha, go forth to a land that I will show you—and be a blessing.”

I did go forth to make my way in life to a world in which I could be a blessing to (name spouse, partners, friends, and/or colleagues).

Indeed, God’s promise of being a blessing was fulfilled! I feel I touched the lives of so many by completing my life’s task up until this moment. Also, I changed the world a little by my involvement in (name volunteer organizations, donations, causes involved with).

Now, once again, I hear God’s command to go forth to a new phase of my life. Just as Abraham and Sara, Moses, Aaron, and Miriam, Joshua, and all my ancestors, some who crossed raging seas, did not know their destination when they began, my destiny is a mystery as well. I know not what I will encounter on my way to my personal promised land, but I know I will discover new and interesting aspects about myself and the world.

I know that in this new adventure I will continue to be a blessing to my loved ones when I (name retirement plans).

It has been said that one becomes old when one stops dreaming. So, like Joseph before me, I still dream. I dream of (name aspirations for retirement).

I am grateful that God has blessed me and kept me alive for so many years to reach this new stage of life. I thank God and pray: “May my life continue to be a blessing.”

Family and friends respond: You have been a blessing to us. You have loved us, mentored us, and provided for us. We thank you for your gifts of mind and body. (Each individual can share personal words of thanks.)

As the people Israel are commanded to be an or l’goyim, a light unto the nations, I light this candle as a symbol that I too may continue to be a light unto my family and community: a light of justice and morality, a light of strength and guidance, a light of leadership and continuing to be a role model. (Light candle) 

As I begin this new adventure I say the words of a traveler’s prayer:

May it be Your will, Adonai, our God and the God of our Mothers and Fathers, that You lead me toward the peace I seek. Guide my footsteps in the choices I make, and help me and my family reach our desired destination of a life filled with meaning, gladness, and shalom. May You protect us from the hand of every foe and scheme that would lead us astray from our dreams of a peaceful and meaningful world. May You send blessing in the work of my hands and mind, and grant me grace, kindness, and mercy in Your eyes and in the eyes of all with whom I will come in contact during this next period of my life. May You hear the sound of my humble requests as I begin my new adventure. Blessed are You, Adonai, Who hears the voices of humans in prayer. Amen.

All of you have shared with me my accomplishments and achievements, and you have heard my dreams for this encore chapter of my life, now share with me the bounties of life by which I have been blessed.

Share wine and challah with everyone. Recite blessings in Hebrew and English.

Optional concluding songs[1] and reading:

  • Debbie Friedman: “T’filat Haderech,” “L’chi Lach,” “Kaddish D’Rabbanan,” “The Journey Song”
  • Dan Nichols: “Beyond”
  • Cantor Benjie Ellen Schiller: “Blessing,” “Everyone Has a Name,” “Lamdeini,” “May You Live to See Your World Fulfilled”
  • Craig Taubman: “Journey”
  • Steve Schiller: “Livracha”
  • Peter Yarrow: “Sweet Survivor”
  • Cantor Jeff Klepper/ Rabbi Daniel Freelander: “Ushmor”
  • Noah Budin: “Wisdom of the Heart”
  • Sheryl Braunstein: “Y’varech’cha”
  • Rabbi Karyn D. Kedar, “To the Uplifting God, Help Me,” from Amen (CCAR Press, 2020, p. 79)

—
Rabbi Daniel A. Roberts is Rabbi Emeritus of Temple Emanu El in Cleveland. He is the co-author, with Dr. Michael Friedman, of Clergy Retirement: Every Ending a New Beginning for Clergy, Their Family, and the Congregation. He invites readers to contact him at drobe17@aol.com for more ideas on how to implement this ritual in a congregational setting.

[1] Suggested by Rabbi Billy Dreskin and Cantor Ellen Dreskin

Categories
Books Inclusion LGBT

‘Mishkan Ga’avah: Where Pride Dwells’: A Project of Hope

Mishkan Ga’avah: Where Pride Dwells, edited by Rabbi Denise L. Eger, was published by CCAR Press in the spring of 2020. In this post, Rabbi Eger shares how the book came to be.

Some rabbis collect their sermons and publish them. They are pearls of wisdom for the ages.

I may yet do that at some point.

But more urgently, I saw the need to center the voices of the LGBTQ+ community. Throughout my years of service as a rabbi, I had to create ceremonies and prayers for my community when there were no resources. I was ordained in the late 1980s in the midst of the AIDS crisis, at a time when our beloved HUC-JIR still wouldn’t ordain openly LGBTQ+ people as rabbis or cantors. We lived in fear and in the closet. Maybe that is hard to believe now for our many openly LGBTQ+ rabbis and seminarians, but it wasn’t that long ago when we gathered secretly at CCAR Conventions late at night in someone’s room to connect with other queer colleagues.

Over the years, I wrote prayers for Pride Month and National Coming Out Day. I would write invocations and blessings for interfaith gatherings affirming the worth and dignity

of LGBTQ+ people, their families, and people with HIV. I had to invent, create, and imagine an authentic queer Jewish life when there was little liturgy available.

Religion is so often used to shame and hurt LGBTQ+ people. Too much violence and hatred are directed at the LGBTQ+ community in the name of religion. I purposefully write from a different perspective.

I tried to create prayers in a genuine Jewish voice that uplifted, instilling hope and healing. I tried to combat homophobia through prayers and reflections that reinforced the theology that all are created b’tzelem Elohim, in God’s image. I tried to convey what today we call audacious hospitality, writing naming ceremonies for those transitioning gender, wedding ceremonies before we had any templates, and rituals for coming out. I wrote my first ceremony to celebrate someone coming out as gay in 1986! It was centered around an aliyah to the Torah, as a riff on benching Gomel and a Mi Shebeirach for well-being.

But luckily, over these same three-plus decades, LGBTQ+ Jewish life has grown and blossomed. We have seen tectonic shifts in not just welcoming LGBTQ+ and non-binary Jews home, but embracing queer life and queer Jewish voices.

Often when Gay Pride Month would roll around, many of you, my colleagues, would call or email me to ask for materials for Pride Shabbat. I shared whatever I had created that year. Clearly there was a need for a collection of resources to help communities live out our commitment to be welcoming and embracing places of LGBTQ+ folx. Not one for sitting around, after my time in leadership of the Conference, I knew it was the right moment to collect not only some of own writings, but to invite others to share their poetry, prayer, and passion—centering the voices and experiences of our queer Jewish community.

Mishkan Ga’avah: Where Pride Dwells was born out of this effort.

Mishkan Ga’avah represents some of the collected wisdom, voices, and experiences of Jewish LGBTQ+ people. It is a spiritual resource for both the individual and the community. I hope it inspires others to write creative liturgy and prayers using their own voices. And I hope it will offer comfort, solace, inspiration, and hope to LGBTQ+ people everywhere—a beautiful strand of pearls for all of our Jewish community to wear.

—
Rabbi Denise L. Eger is the editor of Mishkan Ga’avah: Where Pride Dwells: A Celebration of LGBTQ Life and Ritual (CCAR Press, 2020) and a past President of the Central Conference of American Rabbis. She is the Senior Rabbi of Congregation Kol Ami in West Hollywood, CA.

Categories
member support

The New NCRCR: Nurturing Sacred Communities

Among the most cherished values of our Reform Movement is the idea of sacred partnership between clergy and lay leaders. While a sacred relationship of trust, transparency, and collaboration is our highest ideal, challenges can arise that affect these relationships, especially during this time of pandemic crisis. We want you to know how the North American Commission on Rabbinic-Congregational Relationships (NCRCR) can provide support and healing to lay leadership and rabbis alike.

The NCRCR is a joint commission of the URJ and CCAR whose mission is to advise, support, and nurture sacred partnerships and healthy relationships among lay leadership and rabbis. Ideally, we are called early enough to help repair these relationships so that a resolution results in the rabbi maintaining their position in the congregation. At other times, the NCRCR process will clarify that a rabbi and congregation would both be healthier by parting ways. In that case, NCRCR can assist a congregation and its rabbi with an honorable and healthy parting.

The NCRCR provides three types of services: consultation, conciliation, and mediation. All conversations and services provided by the NCRCR are confidential. For consultation services, the congregation’s president or rabbi, separately or together, can reach out directly to one of the NCRCR’s co-chairs, Rabbi William Kuhn or Ms. Robin Kosberg (contact information below), for a confidential discussion by telephone, email, or videoconference.

When a president and rabbi together request an NCRCR conciliation case, we utilize volunteers from the North American Board of the URJ and members of the CCAR in our work. A trained volunteer team of one URJ lay leader and one CCAR rabbi will usually travel to the congregation for two days of intensive meetings with all of the key stakeholders of the congregation: clergy, lay leadership, and staff (though other arrangements will be made during COVID-19). Soon thereafter, the team and the NCRCR provide a report to the congregation and rabbi with detailed findings and recommendations. There is no charge to congregations or clergy for our services. Because we understand the sensitivity of the information we learn about a congregation and its clergy and staff, all members of the NCRCR, chairs, and team members rigorously maintain confidentiality.

In a recent case, one congregation’s rabbi said, “The NCRCR visit was crucial in our current success as an institution. The process elevated two concepts that have transformed our community. It definitely nurtured and improved the sacred partnership between the president and myself. The NCRCR also helped us see that governance needs nurturing, planning, and refreshing.”

The president of the congregation said, “Our congregation was facing an existential crisis, but the NCRCR process enabled our rabbi and me to better understand our respective concerns. The honest advice and mentoring we received from the NCRCR team truly helped us make our congregation stronger. For any congregation having difficult relationships between lay leaders and clergy, I confidently recommend engaging NCRCR. It is one of the best kept secrets of the Reform Movement!”

The NCRCR can also facilitate a mediation process by referring the case to a member of the URJ or CCAR trained in mediation services. The goal is to obviate the need for arbitration, although occasionally the rabbi or lay leadership may find it unavoidable.

In any given situation, contacting the NCRCR earlier is always better than later. The chairs of the NCRCR are available to talk to congregational leadership or clergy, together or separately. If a rabbi or congregational leader perceives a pattern of issues in the congregation affecting the rabbinic-lay relationship, it is time to reach out.

—
Rabbi William Kuhn is co-chair of NCRCR and rabbi emeritus of Congregation Rodeph Shalom in Philadelphia where he served as rabbi for 23 years. The NCRCR is chaired by Rabbi William Kuhn, on behalf of the CCAR and Ms. Robin Kosberg on behalf of the URJ. Reach out to either Rabbi Kuhn at rabwik@gmail.com and (215) 603-5130, or Robin Kosberg at robinkosberg@gmail.com and (214) 240-4944.

Categories
Inclusion LGBT Social Justice

Transgender Day of Remembrance: An Opportunity for Safety and Visibility

Besides coronavirus, there is another epidemic raging in our communities: the ongoing scourge of violence targeting transgender people, particularly trans women of color. Transgender, non-binary, and gender non-conforming people [ɪ] are more likely to be denied equal access to jobs, housing, and medical care, and they are frequent targets of violence—including murder. Trans, non-binary, and gender non-conforming folx are afraid to go to the police for help; when they do seek out legal remedies or safe harbor, they often are further harassed by law enforcement, facing violence at the hands of the very people charged with protecting them.

According to the National Center for Transgender Equality (NCTE), “In just seven months, the number of transgender people suspected of being murdered in 2020 has surpassed the total for all of 2019.” Black and Latinx transgender women have been particularly targeted. NCTE’s US Transgender Survey, which included more than 28,000 participants, found that nearly half (47 percent) of all Black respondents and 30 percent of all Latinx respondents reported being denied equal treatment, experiencing verbal harassment, or being physically attacked in the previous year due to their transgender identity. 

The Family Research Project has shown that nearly three out of four trans and gender-expansive youth have heard family members say negative remarks about LGBTQ people, and over half of transgender and gender-expansive youth have been openly mocked by their families for their identity.

These harrowing statistics don’t have to be the norm. There is an urgent need for education and awareness-raising about transgender issues, both in our Jewish communities and in the cities and towns in which we live. As rabbis, we can make our synagogues places of safe harbor and support for transgender and gender non-conforming people, whether they are Jewish or not! Just as we build coalitions with interfaith partners, our congregations can build important bridges, becoming advocates for our Jewish transgender and non-binary members while providing connection, safety, and partnership for the larger transgender and non-binary community. One way we might do so is by reaching out to local LGBTQ organizations to sponsor and host ceremonies for Transgender Day of Remembrance.

Every year, November 20 is designated as Transgender Day of Remembrance (TDOR). The week prior is known as Transgender Awareness Week, with the goal of increasing visibility of transgender people and addressing the painful issues their community faces. TDOR was started in 1999 by transgender advocate Gwendolyn Ann Smith as a vigil to honor the memory of Rita Hester, a transgender woman who was murdered the previous year. The vigil commemorated all of the transgender people lost to violence since Hester’s death, beginning an important annual tradition.

This year, TDOR is on a Friday. Perhaps at your Shabbat evening service, you will invite a transgender activist to speak and educate your community. Perhaps during the Kaddish, you will read aloud the names of transgender victims of murder from this past year. Or in the week before TDOR, perhaps you will schedule a program to help raise visibility and acceptance of transgender, non-binary, and gender non-conforming people.

In my book, Mishkan Ga’avah: Where Pride Dwells, published this year by CCAR Press, there are several powerful prayers and readings for TDOR. Here’s one to consider using:

A Prayer for Transgender Day of Remembrance

Rabbi: We praise You, Holy One, for the gift of life, precious, stubborn, fragile and beautiful; we are grateful for the time we have to live upon the earth, to love, to grow, to be.

Congregation: We give thanks for the will to live and for our capacity to live fully all of the days that we are given;

Rabbi: And for those who have been taken by the devastation of violence used against them. We remember them and claim the opportunity to build lives of wholeness in their honor.

Congregation: We give you thanks for the partners, friends, allies and families who have been steadfast in their love; for the people who have devoted their life’s work to the prevention of violence, support and making transitioning from one gender to another possible with passion and commitment,

Rabbi: For the diligent science, brilliant ideas, and insights that have led to new life-giving procedures, for those in leadership who have acted to provide health care for people who are in transition.

Congregation: We give thanks for those whose prejudice and judgment have yielded to understanding, for those who have overcome fear, indifference, or burnout to embrace a life of caring compassion.

Rabbi: We praise You, Eternal One, for those who have loved enough that their hearts have broken, who cherish the memories of those we have lost, and for those who console the grieving.

Congregation: God, grant us the love, courage, tenacity, and will to continue to make a difference in a world even with the violence aimed towards our community;

Rabbi: Inspire us to challenge and stand strong against the forces that allow needless harm and violence to continue—prejudice, unjust laws, repression, stigma, and fear.

Congregation: Into Your care, we trust and lift up the hundreds of souls who have been tortured and murdered.

Rabbi: We lift up to You our dreams of a world where all are cared for,

Congregation: Our dreams of wholeness,

Rabbi: Our dreams of a world where all are accepted and respected,

Congregation: A dream we know You share.

[ɪ] The Human Rights Campaign has a useful glossary for anyone unfamiliar with these terms.

Rabbi Denise L. Eger is the editor of Mishkan Ga’avah: Where Pride Dwells: A Celebration of LGBTQ Life and Ritual (CCAR Press, 2020) and a past President of the Central Conference of American Rabbis. She is the Senior Rabbi of Congregation Kol Ami in West Hollywood, CA.

Categories
News Poetry

A Post–Election Day Prayer for National Healing

On November 4, 2020, Americans woke up to an uncertain outcome of the U.S. presidential election. People across the political spectrum are experiencing a roller coaster of confusion, fear, and hope. In response to this difficult moment, Rabbi Karyn D. Kedar shares “Grace in the Wilderness,” a prayer for national healing.

Grace in the Wilderness
God, creator of light and goodness,
may we find grace in the wilderness. (Based on Jeremiah 31:2)

Help this great nation emerge from chaos and fear to
healing and tranquility.

We ask our leaders to act with insight and honor,
to carry authority with humility and compassion.
Righteousness exalts a nation. (Proverbs 14:34)

And as for me, Holy One of Blessing,
may this be my prayer:

Still my troubled being,
for I yearn to emerge from darkness and confusion.

Lift me, carry me, set me upon a rock
that I may feel safe within the storm.
I have sat in the valley of tears long enough. (Based on L’chah Dodi)

Strengthen my resolve that I may be a force for good,
a light when there is darkness.

Help me be guided by acts of love and kindness,
compassion and understanding.

May I find the way to transcend my inclination for strife
and be a bearer of hope and righteousness.

Though I have fallen, I rise again;
though I sit in darkness, God is my light. (Micah 7:8)

Guide me, comfort me, grant me strength.
May this be my prayer.

—Rabbi Karyn D. Kedar, November 2020

__

Rabbi Karyn D. Kedar is Senior Rabbi at Congregation B’nai Jehoshua Beth Elohim in Deerfield, IL. She is the author of Amen: Seeking Presence with Prayer, Poetry, and Mindfulness Practice and Omer: A Counting, both published by CCAR Press.

Categories
Economy Rabbis

CCRJ Working Conditions Study 2020: Developing a Structure for Comparing Canadian and United States Rabbinical Employment Conditions

In early 2020, the Reform Rabbis of Canada (RROC), Canadian Council for Reform Judaism (CCRJ), the URJ, and the CCAR commissioned David Baskin to look at the question of how we compare United States and Canadian rabbinic salaries. Baskin is a lawyer and wealth management professional in Toronto with deep ties to our Canadian Reform Jewish community. We are grateful that he threw himself deeply and enthusiastically into this challenging puzzle.

For years, rabbis and congregations have confronted the issue that while both Canada and the United States refer to their respective currencies as “dollars,” the purchasing power of those dollars differs greatly because of their relative value to each other and the structural differences in the social and economic systems of both countries.

This document lays out the areas that should be considered when comparing compensation packages in the U.S. and Canada.

As Baskin points out, “A very common error is taking a U.S. package of, for example, $150,000 USD and saying, well, that’s equal to $200,000 Canadian dollars, so those are comparable salaries. This ignores a lot of nuance and complexity.”

A slightly better approach is to compare after-tax packages, which will vary from state to state and province to province. This is easy to do with online resources. Even better, if more complex, is to look at after-tax and after-healthcare costs. The RPB and the CCAR do not have comprehensive data on U.S. health care benefits, and this can be a major component of the cross-border comparison.

Finally, it is a mistake to ignore “soft” factors such as purchasing power, employment standards, parental leave, human rights protections, and child-related expenses. 

This document is a first-of-its-kind and a long-overdue attempt to help both rabbis and congregations make better use of the CCAR Rabbinic Compensation study data and comparisons as it relates Canadian congregations and their rabbis. (The CCAR is currently at work on the next iteration of the compensation study.)

A huge thank you to David Baskin for his diligent work on this project, and to Pekka Sinervo, Sandy Pelly, Rabbi Rick Jacobs, Rabbi Ron Segal, Rabbi Hara Person, and Rabbi Cindy Enger for their help and support for this project.

—
Rabbi Dan Moskovitz serves Temple Sholom in Vancouver, BC and also serves as the Chair of Reform Rabbis of Canada. Please visit our website to view the full CCRJ Working Conditions Study 2020.

Categories
Holiday Rituals spirituality

Always in God’s Sukkah

You shelter me in Your sukkah at a not-good time…
in Your solid presence I am uplifted.

— Psalm 27:5

Your sukkah, God, I am sure, does not look like mine.

You need no beams or boards, no tubes or trestles,

no Velcro or duct tape or twine to hold the parts together.

You create with words all the structures and shelters, 

all the connections and interconnections,

the gravity and the glue to keep 

our bodies breathing, our planet spinning, our universe expanding.

Of course, the decorations of Your design are stunning in their beauty.

Constellations, maple trees and quaking aspens,

even the matrix of molecules that fuel a deadly virus, 

each unique and awe inspiring, like You.

We too are Your decorations—works of beauty in Your sukkah—

shining light on a dark day and into the night, 

finding words of praise to sing or whisper to each other and to You, 

feeling alone and afraid, and then brave and patient, and then not.

Ever hopeful.

With my feet on the ground I feel you, solid as concrete, like a rock beneath me; 

with my fingers outstretched I sense You in the air around me;

with my head raised high, above the chaos that swirls all around me, 

without my own sukkah, I celebrate in Yours, 

and with abundant gratitude for the harvest that is my life, I offer blessing:

Blessed are You Adonai, Ruach of the Universe, for the obligation to sit in Your sukkah.

—

Rabbi Debra J. Robbins serves Temple Emanu-El in Dallas, Texas. She is the author of Opening Your Heart with Psalm 27: A Spiritual Practice for the Jewish New Year, published by CCAR Press. 

From Mishkan T’filah for Youth Visual T’filah

Categories
Healing High Holy Days

We Cannot Breathe Until All People Can Breathe

I have lived in Louisville, Kentucky for over ten years, working on countless projects with the mayor’s office, the Louisville Metro Police Department, and even the FBI, to try to bring healing, justice, and peace to this city. It is therefore with profound sadness, horror, rage, and disgust that I watch what is unfolding in this “city of possibility,” that crowned itself as “compassionate.”

My current work in Louisville—as Director for Program Development with Interfaith Paths to Peace—has led me to support the interfaith peace-making and justice-seeking efforts in this city. Clergy of all faiths have been intervening to de-escalate tensions between police and protesters, often inserting themselves between them to protect their right to peacefully demonstrate.

What small shreds of hope we still had were crushed by the announcement of the Attorney General that no charges would be made against the police officers who shot Breonna Taylor. The double standard of the law is glaring, and the city is grieving. Because of the forced curfew, those grieving are being arrested for exercising their right to protest because of a curfew that is imposed to perpetuate the stereotype that people of color are dangerous, when the last several months have demonstrated that they were peaceful and supported by clergy from across the community. 

Squelched grief has become a ticket to a non-socially isolated jail and fines that perpetuate debt and social inequality. It is just too overwhelming to see the glaring contrast between the ease with which a protester, clergy or lay, can be arrested and the inability to indict a police officer that turns off his camera, falsifies documents, and shoots a woman dead in her home for just sleeping.

And so, here we are, approaching Yom Kippur, reflecting upon our sins and the need to atone—our rabbis teach that we should confess our sins in the plural because even if not all committed the crime, all are guilty for not trying to stop it—and so it is. We confess—ashamnu. We have sinned.

We sin as a nation when we call ourselves a democracy but maintain an electoral college that was created to perpetuate slavery and the belief that people of color should not have the same voting power as white people.

We sin as a nation when we continue to enslave people of color… when this nation continues to target them and imprison them so that they can work without pay to fuel the profits of our privatized prison system and the corporations that derive profit thanks to the slavery amendment of our constitution.

We participate in the sin of slavery every time we buy something from any of the countless companies that rely upon unpaid prison labor.

Today, in between Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur, we collectively confess our sins: the sins of this nation, for each of us who vote and pay taxes in this country and in this city, each of us are responsible for what is happening.

And today we affirm that we all share responsibility for our current reality—and as clergy we decry our continued complicity with these sins. And today, we join our brothers and sisters of all faiths, to publicly confess these sins and to reclaim the prophetic voice that calls upon us all to atone, make amends, and work for justice, peace, reconciliation, and a new start where all human beings are recognized as created in the Divine Image.

As we approach Yom Kippur, who amongst us can say that we have not sinned? 

Each of us has contributed in some way to the rapidly growing weight of our nation’s collective sins.

For the sin of children in cages and mothers with forced sterilizations.

For the sin of police officers who murder and are only sometimes held accountable if someone is videotaping.

For the sin of thousands upon thousands of deaths due to a virus that we have collectively refused to manage appropriately.

For the sin of destroying this Earth that was given to us to safeguard.

For all these sins and more, we confess—we are guilty.

Our sins continue to be an alphabet of woe, and this week, we add another shocking sin.

For the sin of failing to indict or charge officers who turned off their cameras, falsified documents, and murdered Breonna Taylor: we confess—ashamnu.

For the sin of remaining silent and failing to use tochecha to rebuke our brothers and sisters who support policies that perpetuate the systemic racism that leaves each of us with blood on our hands.

For all these sins and more, we confess our guilt and ask for Your help in making amends and working to atone and be worthy of forgiveness.

Our hearts break as we watch the consequences of our failure to act and our willingness to accept our divisions…our hearts break as we see what happens when we choose “shalom bayit” (to keep the peace) rather than to speak out against injustice.

We cannot breathe under the growing weight of our collective sins. We cannot breathe alongside our brothers and sisters. We cannot breathe until all people can breathe. Until all people can sleep soundly in their homes without worrying that their tax-funded dollars will pay for police officers to come and kill them in the middle of the night and not get charged.

This Yom Kippur may we confess, atone, and begin the difficult work of making amends, seeking justice, and becoming worthy of forgiveness.

Our rabbis have taught us to kindle light where there is darkness. As we grieve the darkness that continues to thicken and suffocate us all—let us find the strength to kindle light.

Blessed is the Source of Light who made us holy with commandments and ethical principles and who commands us to kindle light in the darkness.

Here in Louisville, we have begun a new interfaith ritual that I pray will radiate out into our country. In the midst of our communal brokenness and with our diverse experiences and perspectives we invite you to hold our city, and indeed our nation, in prayer, presence, and love.

The flame represents our common humanity and the different candles our unique expressions of its light. Since Wednesday, September 23rd and through the election season, we are asking everyone at 8:00 PM to light a candle and stand at a street corner in their neighborhood, or outside their home, or from their window to light a candle of hope and as an expression of love and healing prayer.

May each of us, enveloped in despair and rage, draw strength from these lights, kindled across our nation, and may this Light inspire us to rise up with the righteous and prophetic rage that needs to be expressed and channeled into the work of justice and healing.

May this new year usher forth the healing, peace, and justice for which we all pray, and may our prayers inspire us to act and make amends. 

—

Rabbi Dr. Nadia Siritsky, MSSW, BCC, is Director of Program Development and Engagement at Interfaith Paths to Peace in Louisville, Kentucky.