Tag: Psalms

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Books CCAR Press

Psalms for Our Most Meaningful Moments: Rabbi Jade Sank Ross on ‘To You I Call’

Rabbi Jade Sank Ross is the author of To You I Call: Psalms Throughout Our Lives from CCAR Press. In this interview, she discusses encountering challenging aspects of psalms and how they can provide meaning during significant life moments.

What inspired you to write To You I Call?
To You I Call grew out of my rabbinic capstone project, completed in 2018. What I love most about being a rabbi is making Judaism approachable for people who feel like they don’t know enough or don’t know where to begin. I want people to understand the richness of Jewish tradition, especially its texts, and to feel personally connected with it. As I began serving as a congregational rabbi, I was most often asked questions like: “Is there something I can say when I light a yahrzeit (memorial) candle?” “Is there something authentically Jewish I can say when I am sitting in the waiting room as my doctor reviews my test results?” “It’s the Shabbat after a deeply divisive election. How can I express my relief or despair in a way that is deeply rooted in Jewish tradition, but also responds to the events and emotions of my daily life?” For me, the psalms provided the answers to these questions.

What was the most challenging part of working on this book?
As I worked on this book with the CCAR Press editorial committee, we arranged and rearranged the way that the psalms were organized many times. We reworded the section subjects and the language we used to refer to various moments over years. We assigned moments to psalms and psalms to moments, swapping them around again and again. Making decisions required making assumptions about those using this book, and that was a big challenge!

Additionally, the psalms sometimes contain problematic texts and metaphors that may not speak to us in the twenty-first century. These include, but are not limited to, descriptions of violence, vengeance against enemies, gendered language, and theologies that don’t resonate with our own (for example, Psalm 137:9: “Happy is the one who seizes your children and dashes them against the rock”). When this comes up for me, I often focus on just one or a few verses of a psalm. This approach alleviates tension and allows me to take what I need from the psalms while releasing the problematic texts. I always try to remember too that psalms are poetry, and almost all poetry is metaphor. The beauty of metaphors is that they can be redefined. Ultimately, I see this book as an invitation and a starting point. I hope that it can be a resource and a space to see the psalms as poetry, prayer, and song to inspire readers’ spiritual journeys.

Can you recall a time when a psalm spoke directly to a personal experience?
Psalm 45, which I’ve assigned to the modern life-moment of “holding a child for the first time” (p. 135 in To You I Call), spoke to me on the occasion that my children were held by their great-grandmothers for the first time. My children are named in memory of their great-grandfathers, the deceased beloveds of their living great-grandmothers. I particularly love Rabbi Richard N. Levy’s translation (used in my book) of Psalm 45. It starts as “a song of love” and continues, “a heart bubbling with good…gird yourself with glory and glitter…God has anointed you with oil of joy…” I realized that the imagery of God anointing with oil was familiar to me from Psalm 23. We say Psalm 23 in times of mourning, and Psalm 45, with the same imagery of God anointing with oil, is so strikingly for the exact opposite moment, yet still one borne of overflowing love—here bubbling, glittering, and with the hope of new beginnings.

How do you recommend that readers use To You I Call?
My vision was to make the psalms more accessible and easier to navigate so they could be seamlessly incorporated into moments of prayer and carried anywhere. To achieve this, the seventy-two psalms in the book are divided into six broad categories. Each category is further divided into specific moments and experiences. When reading the psalms, I often find myself focusing on just one or a few verses.

To guide readers, I selected one verse from each psalm included in the book, which is featured in Hebrew and bolded in the English translation. I also wrote kavanot (prayerful intentions) to help connect moments from our lives with these ancient words. Of course, by making these decisions, I made assumptions about the reader’s emotional responses to particular moments. In using this book, you might find these divisions inaccurate or one-dimensional. To help guide readers, I included suggestions in the footnotes of each psalm to at least one other psalm in the book.

I invite you to explore what you are feeling at any moment—beyond the way I’ve divided the contents and beyond the specifics of the occasions identified, even among the remaining seventy-eight psalms that are not included.

Rabbi Jade Sank Ross serves the Community Synagogue in Port Washington, New York. She is the author of To You I Call: Psalms Throughout Our Lives, published by CCAR Press.

Categories
Books CCAR Press

How Do Psalms Speak to Our Souls?

Rabbi Jade Sank Ross is the author of To You I Call: Psalms Throughout Our Lives from CCAR Press. In this excerpt, she discusses how psalms can be a uniquely valuable companion on our spiritual journeys.

The genesis for this book followed the completion of my rabbinic capstone project. This project—the culmination of my five years of rabbinic study—was, as far as I know, the first of its kind at Hebrew Union College–Jewish Institute of Religion in New York, combining a comprehensive, immersive study of the Book of Psalms with a presentation of an original Hallel—“set of psalms”—selected to be incorporated into a Shacharit (morning) service. The psalms I selected addressed the current moment through text, music, and digital images in the context of prayer.

While working on this project, engaging in the ancient practice of reading daily psalms, I started to see the psalms everywhere: in synagogues, at archaeological sites in Israel, in artwork, and in music. Their texts accompanied me every day. Their words became meaningful in situations when I found myself speechless and searching for words. I found that the psalms respond to human nature in a unique way. The language of the psalms is open enough to allow space for all of us to “come as we are” and to take what we need. The psalms also belong to American society as a whole: they are part of both the Hebrew and the Christian Bible, they appear widely in both our religious and secular culture, and their universal themes of fear, suffering, and rejoicing reach all people. The psalms enable us to access our spirituality at any given moment and in ways that speak to our souls.

As I incorporated psalms into places where I felt the set liturgy did not address contemporary experiences, I realized that a resource connecting the psalms to experiences in our lives, whether on an average day or one with unique pain or joy, would be very useful for the creation of rituals and worship. Additionally, such a book would be a rich spiritual resource for the personal practice of anyone seeking modern connections to our ancient sources. The volume in your hands aims to do exactly that: it pairs our traditional psalms with different moments of our contemporary lives.

My vision is that this volume will make the psalms more accessible and easier to navigate so they can be seamlessly incorporated into formal worship and other moments of personal prayer. This, in turn, will create opportunities to deepen Jewish spirituality, since these psalms accompany anyone on any occasion: at home, in the hospital, by the graveside, while traveling, or during meditation. Finally, this volume and the psalms within it will, I hope, empower you to establish a meaningful, personal prayer practice, whether regularly or occasionally.

To meet the vision I have for this book, it was important to make this book easy to navigate by narrowing down the 150 psalms to 72 (four times eighteen, quadruple chai/life) and dividing the 72 psalms featured here thematically into six broad categories—anticipation, commemoration, despair, gratitude, pain, and relief. Each category is then further divided into specific moments and experiences, such as “Looking Back on a Life-Changing Moment,” “Experiencing a Climate Disaster,” or “While Waiting for Important News.”

As I categorized the psalms, some clearly called to be linked with certain occasions, and then there were additional occasions that in turn called out for psalms. Clearly, by making these decisions, I made assumptions about your emotional responses to particular moments. You might find these inaccurate or one-dimensional. To help guide you toward a psalm that might ring more true for you, I offer suggestions in the footnotes of each psalm to at least one other psalm included in this book. I invite you to look for what you are feeling at any moment—beyond the way I have divided the contents, beyond the specifics of the occasions identified here, includ­ing among the remaining seventy-eight psalms that are not in this book.

The translations in this book are adapted from Songs Ascending by Rabbi Richard N. Levy, published by CCAR Press. Rabbi Levy’s English translations are poetic yet clear and largely preserve the intentions of the original Hebrew. For me, where Songs Ascending really meets the work of To You I Call is not in the unique translations themselves, but rather in Rabbi Levy’s richly spiritual commentary, where he raises questions like “How might this psalm articulate an aspect of our spiritual lives . . . help us celebrate a holiday or another special day? How might it accompany us when we are ill, or visiting someone who is ill? How might it provide comfort when we have lost someone dear to us?” I turned to the psalms because I was looking to answer exactly these questions. What I needed was a concise resource to inspire me. My hope is that the volume in your hands will be exactly this: a resource and a space to see the psalms as poetry, prayer, and song to inspire our spiritual journeys.

The title of this book, To You I Call, is taken from Rabbi Levy’s translation of Psalm 30. It captures the spirit of the psalms and applies to many of the situations and moments included within these pages. I hope it calls to you.

Rabbi Jade Sank Ross currently serves the Community Synagogue in Port Washington, New York. She is the author of To You I Call: Psalms Throughout Our Lives from CCAR Press.

Categories
Books CCAR Press Prayer Rituals

A Year of Spiritual Practice: Rabbi Debra Robbins on ‘New Each Day’

Rabbi Debra J. Robbins is the author of New Each Day: A Spiritual Practice for Reading Psalms, recently published by CCAR Press. In this interview, she discusses how this book differs from her first volume focused on Psalm 27, the musical accompaniments written to complement the daily psalms, and how readers can engage with psalms in their own lives.

What inspired you to write New Each Day?

The readers of Opening Your Heart with Psalm 27 inspired and encouraged me to write New Each Day. It was so gratifying that people found the daily practice of reading Psalm 27 over a seven-week period so meaningful that they wanted to continue their connections to psalms and their spiritual experiences throughout the year. I felt Shir Shel Yom, the daily psalms of our tradition, might be meaningful.

What was the most challenging part of creating this book?

There were two challenging experiences in working on this book. First, it was important to make the introduction new and fresh while maintaining the core of the spiritual practice laid out in the first book. I was able to address this challenge by learning a lot more about other authors’ writing practices, and I was able to enrich the introduction by doing research about how the seven psalms were selected and understood across history. The second challenging experience was how hard some psalms are to understand and confront over and over again. I found this especially with Psalm 94 for Wednesday. I just kept reading it, writing about it, and trying to find inspiration in it for my life and our world.

Cantor Richard Cohn wrote and recorded nigunim to complement the written text of New Each Day. How does music contribute to the book’s spiritual practice?

As Richard and I write about in the book and as we’ve taught, music helps our minds and hearts encounter sacred texts in new and inspiring ways. The suite of nigunim build upon each other and come to manifest qualities of each day in the cycle. As he writes in the Composer’s Commentary, “the seven nigunim are offered as a scaffolding…the meaning or significance…will emerge organically…”

New Each Day is your second volume with CCAR Press; both focus on a psalm practice. How does this new book differ from Opening Your Heart with Psalm 27?

New Each Day is different from Opening Your Heart primarily because it provides an opportunity to read and write, and sit and sing, with eight different psalms (seven for the days of the week and for the start of each month) instead of only one psalm over seven weeks. The spiritual practice is the same, but the organizing structure is a bit more complex to navigate. I think we developed tools to help the reader easily make their way through each month. The Opening Your Heart app has a variety of musical settings for verses of Psalm 27, as well as prompts for writing, and photographs to accompany each Reflection for Focus. I hope someday we might have these resources for New Each Day as they have been very popular with readers.

How do you recommend that readers use New Each Day?

There are many ways to use New Each Day. It was designed to be used for daily practice, following the flow of the designated psalms throughout the week and then back again, with each new month punctuated with Psalm 104, and a thematic Reflection for Focus. It can also be used monthly, using only the Psalm 104 section, or it can be used as an anthology to explore and reflect on a range of emotional, spiritual, and intellectual ideas, all raised by the ancient psalms and deeply resonant with our modern world. I look forward to hearing more from readers about how they are using the book!

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 and New Each Day: A Spiritual Practice for Reading Psalms, both from CCAR Press.

Categories
Books CCAR Press

What Is the Shir Shel Yom (Psalm of the Day)?

Rabbi Debra J. Robbins is the author of New Each Day: A Spiritual Practice for Reading Psalms, now available from CCAR Press. In this excerpt from the introduction, she examines the history and purpose of the Shir Shel Yom (Psalm of the Day).

I don’t know if the great modern Hebrew Israeli poet Lea Goldberg had a spiritual practice of reading a biblical psalm each day. In one of her poems, she sings like the Psalmist, “Teach my lips . . . a hymn of praise . . . lest routine set my ways,”[1] suggesting that even this inspired writer of poems needed a source to give voice to the world she saw around her in early twentieth century Palestine. It was a world filled with the diverse beauty of fruit trees, the decay of leaves at the turn of the season, the injustices of war, poverty, and suffering of neighbors, yearning for hope and peace. She turned her personal observations and universal feelings into poems, much like the ancient psalmists did, echoing their language in her hymn of praise, as her blessing, to the Holy One who renews our days.

Drawing on the description of a biblical ritual described in the Mishnah, around the second to third century of the Common Era, Jewish tradition developed the custom of Shir Shel Yom (Psalm of the Day), adding a cycle of seven psalms, biblical liturgical poem/songs, to the daily morning liturgy. The rabbis who selected and placed these psalms may or may not have been Lea Goldberg’s teachers, but they certainly have been mine. Reading a different hymn of praise each day helps ensure that we don’t see the new day as the one before. The seven-day cycle propels us forward, inviting us to notice the bright beauty of creation and the darkness that shrouds human systems of justice. This routine allows us to look into ourselves and beyond ourselves—to see others as vulnerable regardless of how vulnerable we may feel—in the community that needs us.

I like routines and have learned from Lea Goldberg that the best ones should not be too routine and completely set our ways. The cycle of Shir Shel Yom offers the ideal balanced practice: the psalms remain constant, but the person reading them and the surrounding world are new each day, making it impossible for “routine to set our ways.” It is always Psalm 24 on Sunday, 48 on Monday, 82 on Tuesday, followed by 94 on Wednesday and then 81 on Thursday. Friday is assigned Psalm 93, and the week culminates on Shabbat/Saturday with Psalm 92. The psalms identified two thousand years ago have amazingly remained the same, but what has not endured beyond the briefest of explanations of the choices is the answer to the question “Why these seven psalms?” I’ll share six possibilities, confident that you, the reader, will provide a seventh as a result of engaging in this practice.

  • With 150 psalms to choose from, why not start with Psalm 1 and just keep reading one a day for 150 days and then begin again? A cycle of 150 doesn’t match anything in the natural cycle of Creation, but a cycle of seven matches God’s days of Creation from the Torah and the human creation of the “week” to reflect it.
  • Some of the psalms are very long—Psalm 119 has 176 verses—and others are short— Psalm 117 has plenty of power packed into its two verses. The Shir Shel Yom package of seven is well-balanced: the shortest selection is five verses (Psalm 93 for Friday) and the longest only twenty-six (Psalms 94:1–95:3 for Wednesday).
  • The content of the 150 psalms is as diverse as human emotions and experiences, and the seven selected are well curated to reflect the possibilities and trajectory of daily and weekly life, keeping the focus on arriving at Shabbat.
  • Certainly in biblical times, and at least until Johannes Gutenberg began to print Bibles in 1454, very few individuals owned their own books or could read; in contrast, the singing of psalms—biblical poems set to music—was accessible to all. Mastering a repertoire of seven, in addition to some of the others for special occasions, was a manageable lifetime achievement.
  • Another option might have been to allow each person to select their own seven psalms. This (at least for me) is daunting, and I’d likely spend my lifetime simply trying to choose rather than engaging in the practice.
  • Most compelling is the connection that comes with the practice. These seven may not be my favorite psalms, but they are the treasures and traditions of my ancestors, like the pearls I wear that belonged to my great-aunt or the recipes I make from my grandmother’s cards on Passover. I feel connected across time to all the generations before me who have offered the same poems—in different languages and using different translations—for more than two thousand years. I feel connected with others in my generation whom I will never know, but with whom I am in relationship as we share the same practice, engaging with the same text every day.

I have come to love these psalms and the steady flow from week to week that comes with their practice. On this Monday I am not the same as I was the Monday before, and the light is not the same and the temperature is not the same; events in the world, in my life, have all shifted in ways large and small. And a Tuesday in November, between Election Day and Thanksgiving, is not the same as the Tuesday in January after Martin Luther King Day, or in August during the Hebrew month of Elul, when our time to prepare for the High Holy Days draws near. Each week and each month is different, but Shir Shel Yom anchors us and gives us a secure mooring as our lips learn, over and over again, to offer blessing.

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 (2019) and New Each Day: A Spiritual Practice for Reading Psalms (2023) from CCAR Press.

[1] The entirety of this poem by Lea Goldberg (1911–70) can be found in Mishkan T’filah: A Reform Siddur (New York: Central Conference of American Rabbis, 2007), p. 145, adapted. Thanks to Rabbi Jonathan Slater for identifying the original publication in Barak Baboker, as part of a three-part collection Shirei Sof HaDerech, published around 1955. This poem has been set to music by Cantor Benjie Ellen Schiller.

Categories
Books CCAR Press High Holy Days

Reading ‘Opening Your Heart with Psalm 27’ during a Pandemic

Read the same psalm every day for fifty days?
The same one we read last year? 
Using the same book and the same practice?
Yes. Yes. Yes and yes.
Get a new notebook or open a new computer file.
Sharpen your pencils or find your new favorite pen.
But yes, return to the psalm, return to the book, return to the practice
(this is after all the psalm for the season of return, t’shuvah).

Why? 
Because the world has changed.
Because the ways we see or hear,
experience and reflect on the same words have changed.
We know it to be true from our experience,
reading the same Torah portions in their annual cycle.
We see a character or situation from Genesis in a new way
because of something or someone we encountered or considered.
We understand the ethical demands of Leviticus differently
because we are sitting in a different chair, the light is brighter or dimmer,
we’ve lost or gained: a friend, a few pounds, some perspective.
And so this year, as we make our way in a world infected with COVID-19,
we hear, read, experience Psalm 27 again.

Who has not felt fear that the deadly virus will approach us, ravage our bodies? (27:2)
Who has not waged a battle against the enemy, scrubbing, wiping, wiping again, hands and handles, with disinfecting bleach? (27:3)
How many of us, confined to our homes, small or large, alone or with others, have not imagined being in a better place, a Palace? (27:4)
Who has sought out a hiding place, a fort or cave of pillows and blankets, constructed by children or adults, a shelter for body and soul? (27:5)
How can we sing, knowing it spreads disease with vengeance, needing the balm of music to tamp down the fear, still the heart, calm the breath, fill the soul? (27:6)
Will a face be recognized behind this mask? (27:8)
Who have we abandoned? (27:10)
On these chaotic days that merge one into the other, when voices of leadership sow discord, who has not noticed that facts are seen as fiction and fiction becomes fact? (27:12)
And what about gratitude for those who have followed the right path, stayed home or gone to work, first responders, caregivers, grocery store workers, truck drivers? (27:11)
When did we last cry out the Psalmist’s prayer?
Protect me, protect my loved ones, my coworkers, the most vulnerable, all of us.(27:7)
Are we ready to affirm the ancient words? Fill us with hope, keep us patient as we wait, for we have strong hearts and we have courage, we have each other, and we have You and Your light; we can wait, hopefully. (27:14)

The psalm is the same but the world is not, and none of us is unchanged. If you are new to the practice, welcome. If you are returning, welcome back. The Invitation (page xv) will help you get focused and organized (you have until August 21). This year, in response to readers and rabbis, there is a Navigation Chart to help match the Reflections for Focus to specific days of the season, as well as a Study Guide with textual passages and activities to accompany each verse. We have also provided a musical recording of Kavei El Adonai composed by Cantor Richard Cohn. Opening Your Heart with Psalm 27: A Spiritual Practice for the Jewish New Year is available from CCAR Press, and I welcome you to join with my congregation, Temple Emanu-El in Dallas, weekly to engage in the practice online. We will be meeting Wednesdays at 9:00 a.m. CT starting August 19; details will be available at www.tedallas.org


Rabbi Debra J. Robbins has served Temple Emanu-El in Dallas since 1991 and currently works closely with the Social Justice and Adult Jewish Learning Councils, the Pastoral Care department, a variety of Worship initiatives, and teaches classes for adults. She is the author of Opening Your Heart with Psalm 27: A Spiritual Practice for the Jewish New Year, published by CCAR Press.

Categories
Poetry Social Justice

‘I Can’t Breathe’ and ‘A Psalm for Our Cities on Fire’

As we watch with heavy hearts the events of late May and early June and witness innocent Americans exercising their right to protest fall victim to police violence, we pray for an end to racial injustice and power structures designed to silence, suppress, and kill people of color. We pray for healing, and we remain aligned with Black and Brown communities in the fight to end injustice. In the words of Rabbi Paul Kipnes, who shares a psalm here, “It’s time for action; we’re way past time of debate.” 

Encouraged by the teachings of Pirke Avot, which teach us that “You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to desist from it,” we remain committed to social justice, and we remain committed to teaching and promoting anti-racism. We encourage you to read the CCAR’s statement on racist killings.

Here, we share a poem, written by Rabbi Lance J. Sussman, and a psalm, written by Rabbi Paul Kipnes, in reaction to these tragic events.

I Can’t Breathe
—By Rabbi Lance J. Sussman

I can’t breathe,
The knee of oppression
Is on my neck.

I can’t breathe,
The air of my city
Is filled with tear gas.

I can’t breathe,
I am filled with rage
And the smoke of burning buildings.

I can’t breathe
Because the air is filled with contempt for people of different colors.

I can’t breathe
Because my country is suffocating
And the air of democracy is getting thinner and thinner.

I can’t breathe
Because I am grieving for America
And praying its dreams aren’t dying
In the streets of our nation tonight.

A Psalm for Our Cities on Fire
—By Rabbi Paul Kipnes

A Psalm for our cities on fire
Aflame with the fires of fear
With anger burning ‘bout brazen brutality:
From a kneed neck Floyd’s breath snuffed out over there

A Psalm for our cities on fire
Veering vigorously toward violence and hate
Preventing protests that promote another vision:
Of justice that we all must create

A Psalm for our brothers and sisters
Who fear for their lives, black and brown
When they jog, shop, go to church, or go bird watching
With their hands held up high, or when lying down

A Psalm to remind us ‘bout justice
And the debasement that threatens their lives
Because our silence can no longer silence
The real pain of widowed husbands and wives

So Pray for our cities on fire
And sing out songs of protest ‘gainst hate
But since lives, they are holy and matter
It’s time for action; we’re way past time of debate

Rabbi Lance J. Sussman, Ph.D., is the senior rabbi of Keneseth Israel in Elkins Park, Pennsylvania. Rabbi Paul Kipnes is leader of Congregation Or Ami in Calabasas, California.

Categories
Prayer

Psalm 94:19: Soothe the Soul

Psalm 94:19 is traditionally read on Wednesdays. Whichever day you find yourself reading this in this challenging time, may it bring you comfort.

בְּרֹ֣ב שַׂרְעַפַּ֣י בְּקִרְבִּ֑י תַּ֝נְחוּמֶ֗יךָ יְֽשַׁעַשְׁע֥וּ נַפְשִֽׁי׃
When disquieting thoughts rage inside me, Your comforting brings me joy.

I need, we need, our world needs this psalm,
this verse, on this Wednesday morning [1], on any day.
“When I am tangled within, unsettled,
You comfort me, you soothe my soul.” [2]


שַׂרְעַפַּ֣י sar-ah-pie.
A unique word in the Bible, a favorite of the troubled Job. [3]
Perhaps a portmanteau of two words next to each other in the dictionary.
Sar-ah-pie is like saraf, with the letters sin, resh and peh—to burn.
My angst, my concerns burn within me, threaten to consume me like a fire.
Sar-ah-pie is like s’ra-ah, with the letters sin, resh and ayin extend or stretch.
My worries expand,
spreading out like flames fueled with dry timber until they rage,
filling my head, my heart, with fear and dread,
in the dark of the night and as the day dawns.
Tangled in the sheets and in my mind,
I wake. I rise.
I am unbalanced, again, like the world just yesterday. [4]

תַּ֝נְחוּמֶ֗יךָ Ta-n’chum-echah.
Buried within prefix and suffix, nun, chet and mem, nechum, Comfort.
You, God, You comfort me—
like a Parent can sooth a child after a nightmare,
like a Teacher can nourish a mind,
like a listening Friend can calm a raging one,
like a Leader can steady a country or community,
like a Shepherd can shelter the flock,
like a Rock can give shade a stifling day,
like a deep Breath can slow a pounding heart.

And finally, a Hebrew tongue twister,
worth practice, memorization, repetition.
Hold it in the mouth, release it from the lips,
know it, in the heart, by heart.
Two words:
three shins, two silent ayins, a yod at the beginning and at the end.
It’s onomatopoeia: Shshshsh…

נַפְשִֽׁי Y’sha-a-sh’u nafshi.
You, God, You soothe, You soothe my soul.
Gentle, calm, intimate.
This isn’t about the whole world,
it’s about my world, my essence, my breath.
I, the parent, the friend, the student, the leader,
a shepherd, a rock,
tangled,
I am comforted by my Breath Within.
Each breath exhaled, like wind scattering clouds,
releases a bit of pain, some worry, a flash of anger,
cools the raging fires of fear,
opens space for hope, and joy and gratitude.
These words, this Breath, soothes souls.


[1] Psalm 94 is the psalm identified in Jewish tradition to be read every Wednesday.
[2] Thanks to my student and teacher Tammy Cancela for this thoughtful insight on being “tangled”.
[3] This word appears only here and in Psalm 139:13. The BDB dictionary associates it with the root letters sin, ayin pay as in Job 4:23 and 20:2.
[4] From the Psalm read on Tuesdays: “They do not know, they do not understand, in deep darkness they stumble to and fro—all the foundations of the earth are tottering.” (Psalm 82:5)

Rabbi Debra J. Robbins is a rabbi at Temple Emanu-El in Dallas, Texas and author of the recently published book, Opening Your Heart with Psalm 27: A Spiritual Practice for the Jewish New Year, published by CCAR Press 2019, also available as an ebook.

Categories
Prayer

Clean Hands Carry Blessings

Our Jewish tradition has long guided us to turn to the Book of Psalms at times of challenge and at the same time to engage with these heartfelt human words on a daily basis. Each day of the week is assigned a Psalm for reading and reflection (the holy days and seasons are assigned psalms as well). 

I recommend this practice—Sit quietly, take a few deep breaths, read Psalm 24 (if you have a Bible handy), read the “Reflection for Focus (Clean Hands Carry Blessings),” write for just five minutes—ask yourself, what experiences or emotions do these words evoke for me? And then sit still with just your breath or maybe repeating a few of the Hebrew words or the English phrase, “clean hands carry blessings” for five more minutes. Show yourself some compassion, and then give thanks for your hands that can carry more than you realized and these moments for reflection at a difficult time.

Psalm 24:4-5
Clean Hands Carry Blessings

נְקִ֥י כַפַּ֗יִם וּֽבַר־לֵ֫בָ֥ב אֲשֶׁ֤ר ׀ לֹא־נָשָׂ֣א לַשָּׁ֣וְא נַפְשִׁ֑י וְלֹ֖א נִשְׁבַּ֣ע לְמִרְמָֽה׃

יִשָּׂ֣א בְ֭רָכָה מֵאֵ֣ת יְהוָ֑ה וּ֝צְדָקָ֗ה מֵאֱלֹהֵ֥י יִשְׁעֽוֹ׃

The clean of hands and the clear of heart, those who do not say, “By my life” when they do not mean it,
who do not swear to that which is a lie.
Such ones will carry with them a blessing from God,
a blessing of justice from the God of salvation.
(Pamela Greenberg translation)

A Sunday psalm, an any-day psalm, an everyday psalm,
an all-day psalm during a pandemic.
Instruction, encouragement, inspiration,
from an ancient world to a modern time.
The earth and all its continents, the seas and all their shores,
all of us everywhere,
and each disease,
God made it all.
A miraculous universe to share,
where we are blessed
to live and learn, care and cure, to do no harm,
to do what’s right and just and fair, and prudent,
with strength and patience and dignity.
Partners with our Creator
we battle against a relentless foe,
unseen but deeply felt, both microscopic and global.
A feared enemy at the gates,
of our homes and schools and stores,
synagogues, mosques and churches–
like God it knows no borders, sees no differences.
We fight together with heads raised–not hunkered down.
Feet grounded by gravity, rooted in the enduring facts of nature,
with clean hands to carry blessings.
We wash our hands and inspect our hearts–
an opportunity, over and again, to breathe,
and recite these words, taped above the sink:

Who will stand in a holy place?
I will.
With clean hands.
With an open heart.
I can carry blessing from God
deliver justice for all people.
Like God I am strong.
With God I can open gates of healing and hope.

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה׳ אֱלֹהֵינוּ ר֣וּחַ הָעוֹלָם אֲשֶׁר קִדְּשָׁנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתָיו

וְצִוָּנוּ עַל נְטִילַת יָדַיִם

Baruch atah Adonai Eloheynu Ruach HaOlam
asher kidshanu b’mitzvotav vitzivanu al netilat yadaim.
Blessed are You, Adonai, Breath of the Universe,
for giving us the sacred opportunity to lift up our hands toward blessing.

This heart, these hands, my Breath can open healing gates for Holiness to enter.

Note: 1. In Jewish tradition, Psalm 24 is recited each Sunday as part of the daily liturgy. 2. The blessing for washing hands (adapted) is traditionally recited before eating a meal that includes bread. It originates in the Mishna (Yadaim), and the rabbis crafted the practice and the blessing by expanding on Exodus 40:30-32 and Leviticus 15:11.

For a full version of Psalm 24 and other Psalms, see Songs Ascending: The Book of Psalms in a New Translation, by Rabbi Richard Levy, CCAR Press, 2017, also available as an ebook.)

Rabbi Debra J. Robbins is a rabbi at Temple Emanu-El in Dallas Texas and author of the recently published book, Opening Your Heart with Psalm 27: A Spiritual Practice for the Jewish New Year, published by CCAR Press 2019, also available as an ebook.

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Books

Written in “Just Five Minutes”

A reflection by Rabbi Barry H. Block on working through Opening Your Heart with Psalm 27: A Spiritual Practice for the Jewish New Year, by Rabbi Debra Robbins, CCAR Press, 2019.

Opening Your Heart with Psalm 27: A Spiritual Practice for the Jewish New Year

Debbie Robbins says:
“Just five minutes.”
Set aside five minutes,
No more,
To write my Elul reflections each day.
Much to my surprise,
I’ve disciplined myself to do it,
Just five minutes,
Every day.
Some days, I really need it,
Like the day that a traumatic pastoral need
Led me to extreme anxiety,
And I needed to figure out why.
Every day, I really need it.
As a rabbi,
My Elul preparation
Is all about writing sermons,
Musical cues,
Selecting reading,
Doling out honors,
All “work.”
I’m liable to ignore the inner, spiritual work of Elul;
There’s so much “rabbi work” to do.
And so I’ve resolved:
Take those five minutes a day,
And actually prepare my soul
For 5780.
Psalm 27 has opened my heart.
Funny thing:
For the first time,
Ever in my 29th year,
And that’s only since ordination,
All of my sermons are drafted—
Not “finished,” but fully drafted—
More than two weeks before Erev Rosh Hashanah.
Can that be a coincidence?

—
Rabbi Barry Block serves Congregation B’nai Israel in Little Rock, Arkansas.  Opening Your Heart with Psalm 27: A Spiritual Practice for the Jewish New Year is now available from CCAR Press.

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Books Prayer

Sacred Practices with Psalm 27

These 50 days from the first of Elul to the end of Sukkot and the celebration of Simchat Torah can be overwhelming for clergy, with so many details and demands.  It’s easy to lose focus or be too focused; to help others and forget to open our own hearts.  The spiritual tradition of reading Psalm 27 every day is an antidote to these tendencies with its imagery of the season (temple, sukkah, shofar) and its words that evoke a range of emotions (loneliness and fear, joy and courage, the need for patience).  It coaches us in the sacred practices we need to do our work (professional and personal) throughout the season: sit still, stand tall, sing, cry, listen, walk in God’s paths, see Goodness, hope.  And it reminds us that little by little we make our way into the New Year, with Light.

This Reflection for Focus is one of fifty-two pieces (one for each day of Elul, plus a bonus for Simchat Torah and the day after) included in my book, Opening Your Heart with Psalm 27: A Spiritual Practice for the Jewish New Year (pages 82–83).  It invites focus on the phrase, ori b’yishi, in Psalm 27:1

Of David.
Adonai is my light and my victory—
From whom should I feel fright?
Adonai is the stronghold of my life—
From whom should I feel terror?

Really?! I ask myself,
read the same poem, Psalm 27, every day
for the entire month of Elul,
for the ten days from Rosh HaShanah through Yom Kippur,
for the four days until Sukkot begins and on every day of it as well
until the season concludes with joy at Simchat Torah?
Start each day with a relentless recitation of the same words?
My Light
My Salvation (a more common translation than “victory”)
My God . . . ?

Yes.

“You are my Light, on Rosh HaShanah,
and my Salvation, on Yom Kippur,
forgiving my sins, redeeming me from the narrow place of my life.”

Little by little, day by day, starting in Elul,
the Light starts to glow,
and I begin the work.
Little by little, day by day, on Rosh HaShanah
the rays peek above the horizon.

“Redemption doesn’t happen all at once.”
Like the sun that rises,
little by little,
until the dawn breaks
and Light floods the world with warmth and hope,
so, too, t’shuvah.
Little by little, day by day.
A tiny shift
a spark of awareness,
a single apology,
and then another.
No excuses,
no caveats,
no ifs.
And one response when asked for forgiveness: “Yes.”
With God as my Light I begin to see on Rosh HaShanah.
With God as my Salvation, and little by little, day by day,
I might experience at-One-ment on Yom Kippur.

Footnotes:

You are my Light, on Rosh HaShanah: William G. Braude, The Midrash on Psalms, vol. 1 (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1959), p. 370 (Psalm 27:4).

Redemption doesn’t happen all at once: From Mishkan Hanefesh, vol. 1, Rosh HaShanah (New York: CCAR Press, 2015), p. 165, based on imagery from Jerusalem Talmud, B’rachot 1:1.

—
Rabbi Debra J. Robbins has served Temple Emanu-El in Dallas since 1991 and currently works closely with the Social Justice and Adult Jewish Learning Councils, the Pastoral Care department, a variety of Worship initiatives, and teaches classes for adults. She is the author of Opening Your Heart with Psalm 27: A Spiritual Practice for the Jewish New Year, published by CCAR Press.