Tag: Superman Sam

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CCAR Convention General CCAR Rabbis Reform Judaism Social Justice

Shave for the Brave: A “Magical” Moment

I was thinking so much about Sammy this past Purim.  He was a kid who loved all things fun and magical and creative.  One of the things I learned early on with Sammy is that you have to have a gimmick with him in order to get “in” to his world.  He loved jokes and so we were able to connect a little bit over humor.  He loved Angry Birds, and so I was thankful when I learned I could get him to sit on my lap if I handed him my phone with Angry Birds already open and ready for him to play with.  He  also LOVED magic.

I’ve known Sammy since the day he arrived.  His parents are some of my best friends and I was there a few days after he was born.  I remember it like it was yesterday – I walked into their home and crept up slowly to the sleeping newborn, just to get a peek of him.  Suddenly, like magic (or my loud footsteps) he awoke and shined those bright eyes on me. It was a great moment.  And there were many great moments to follow.  Until, the not-so-great moments came.

Sammy Magic 2After Sammy’s cancer relapsed in 2013, I went to go visit him, in May, at the hospital.  Determined to bring a little something that I thought would brighten Sammy’s day, I came into the room with my bag full of tricks.  Literally!  I brought Sammy some magic tricks with lights and balls and bags.  But, the thing he loved the most, that day, was the Magic Hat I brought him from FAO Schwartz.  He could even pull a stuffed bunny out of the hat!!! It all brought a smile to Sammy’s face that I will never forget. It looked like my work as “Auntie Liz” was done!

Sadly, it was not.  I was there a few days after Sammy was born and I was there the day after Sammy died, in December.  I sat and cried with my friends and family and their family who are like my own family. I helped David, Sammy’s brother, buy clothes for the funeral.   I helped carry Sammy’s body, through the cold and snow, at the cemetery to help bury Sammy and say goodbye to his physical presence.  It was the greatest honor I could have, as his Auntie Liz, to be there for him, even when he was no longer there.

We are still here for Sammy, and we are here for many, many other families that are struggling with the pain associated with pediatric cancer.  While Sammy was sick, there were so many people from around the world that were touched by the Sommer’s story and their blog.  Everyone wanted to help, but really didn’t know what to do.  Well, now there is something that is being done.  Phyllis Sommer and Rebecca Einstein Schorr decided that they could convince 36 Rabbis to shave their heads and raise funds for pediatric cancer research, in honor of Sammy’s memory.  The “shave” is being run through the St. Baldrick’s foundation and is taking place on April 1st at the CCAR convention in Chicago, IL – Sammy’s hometown.  The intention was to raise $180,000 from 36 rabbis.  But so many people signed on that we have almost 100 people who have raised more than $420,000 for this event.  It’s almost like, magic….

And that moment, at the Shave on April 1st will truly be magical.  We will watch as Sammy’s parents, Michael and Phyllis, shave their heads.  We will watch as other Rabbis, men and women, shave their heads in honor of Sammy’s memory and in honor of so many other kids out there who struggle every day.  We will watch, in these next few weeks, as our numbers of dollars raised continue to rise and rise and rise.  I am so proud of what my colleagues have done and I am so proud to help be an event organizer for this special and magical moment.  But, most of all, I am proud that I got to know and love Sammy, that I got to be his Auntie Liz, and that he has inspired so many people to continue to work their own magic, in the world.

Sammy and Liz

Rabbi Elizabeth S. Wood serves The Reform Temple of Forest Hills, NY.

Categories
Ethics News Rabbis Reform Judaism

Thank You for Sharing: Going Public With the Private

The editors at MyJewishLearning.org posted a question on its website a week ago Monday.  Commenting on an article the death of “Superman Sam” Sommer, they asked, “What do you think about publicly sharing a loved one’s illness and death?”

Anyone who resides under the expansive tent created by Rabbis Phyllis and Michael Sommer, and Phyllis’ powerful and poignant blog, Superman Sam, know heart-achingly well of the struggles, early triumphs, later set-backs, and the awful, awful path along which they have had to travel.  One stage of their journey ended very early Shabbat morning, December 14 when their beloved, precious Sam took his final breath, not long after Phyllis recited the bedtime Sh’ma to him.

The reason why I, a friend and colleague, but far from their inner circle, know these details is simply because Phyllis and Michael bravely chose to share their family’s story with us, publicly.  Yes, I was moved to tears, often, because of their willingness to share intimate details of their family’s anguish.

I do feel somewhat self-conscious writing about the Sommer family in this forum.  Any rabbi following Facebook recently has read far better reflections from people much closer to them. After all, I am not a close friend, I do not live in their community, I have not yet met their children, nor did I have an opportunity to meet Sam before he died.

Yet despite my geographical distance from the Sommers, I feel very close to them.  That is the power of their story, of using a blog as catharsis, as communication, and as a way of forming a larger community that can provide essential unconditional love and support.

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Jason Rosenberg, Chuck Briskin and Michael Sommer at a recent CCAR Conference

Sam’s story has touched thousands of people simply because his parents chose to share his life and his death with us.

On Shabbat at the URJ Biennial, a small handful of us who were moved by Sam’s story to join Rabbi Rebecca Einstein Schorr’s and Rabbi Phyllis Sommer’s “36 Rabbis Shave for the Brave” campaign gathered at the CCAR Oneg Shabbat.

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L-r: David Widzer, Chuck Briskin, Elizabeth Wood, Alan Cook, Paul Kipnes, David Levy at the URJ Biennial

As we enjoyed a light moment among colleagues, and friends—new and old—little did we know that 1500 miles away from us Sam had died.

When we learned of his death the next morning, we found one another.  We held one another.  We cried together.  Many words offered throughout the Biennial morning service made us think immediately of Sam.  We read a Torah portion called “and he lived” which is really about death, blessing and memory.  The Sommers’ loss was our loss too.  A vastly different loss, but a loss nonetheless.  I selfishly wanted to hug my children who were home in Los Angeles. More than anything, we wanted Phyllis and Michael to be able to hug Sam.

It seemed strangely fitting then, if Sam’s was to die, that he would die on Shabbat, at the same time as the URJ biennial, where so many people touched by his story were gathered.  It was a gift he gave us.  Those of from different circles of relationship with the Sommers could find each other, and draw strength from one another.  We are friends, colleagues, acquaintances; some were classmates with Phyllis and Michael, others knew them from conventions, several from the world of social media.  Many have never met Phyllis or Michael but feel a close connection nevertheless.

Those of us gathered at that oneg Shabbat, and dozens more are doing something small and relatively inconsequential.  Hair grows back.  It is our small way to restore some power and control since we’ve felt so powerless. We can’t return Sam to his parents’ loving embrace, but we can raise funds to try to make sure that there are fewer families who will have to travel along the same path as the Sommers.

Briskin3Rebecca and Phyllis hoped that 36 rabbis would raise $180,000. More than 60 have signed up, and the initial $180,000 has been met. God willing we will double, even triple our goal.  It’s the least we can do, to honor Sam’s valiant fight, and to help others fighting today.

To answer MyJewishLearning’s question; the answer is an unequivocal yes.  Share, draw strength, use social media to bring people into this tent.  Because of Phyllis and Michael’s sharing, so many know of Superman Sam.  And as long as we keep talking about Sam, and sharing his story with others, his memory will endure.

Rabbi Charles K. Briskin serves Temple Beth El in San Pedro, CA.

Categories
Rabbis Reform Judaism Social Justice

Biennial 13: Reflections from a Biennial-o-phile Rabbi

I attended my first Biennial in 1987 in Chicago, when I was 16. Rachel Shabbat Beit-Halachmi, then a leader in our synagogue and NFTY, invited me to attend. Anatoly Sharansky (now Natan Sharansky), symbol of Refusnik’s worldwide, had just been released and came to the Biennial.

And when they brought him to the dais, the NFTY members spontaneously ran forward, armed linked, singing as only chutzpadik youth can:

Anatoly as long as you are there /We the children of Israel share your prayer. /Anatoly as long as you’re not free /Neither are we. (Doug Mishkin)

Our hearts soared—we welcomed a dissident, a global leader for freedom. Ani v’atah n’shaneh et haolam. We believed we could change the world. And we did.

I’ve been to every Biennial since 1987, save for two. Why keep going? Beyond the programming and the gathering and the worship and the leadership development, somewhere in the back of my psyche I’ve been hungering to recreate that perfect moment from my youth. There have been terrific conventions along the way and memorable speeches and worship and awards. But this past week in San Diego, I felt that same energy, that same sense of Jewish promise and potential, that same hope and belief that we could transform the world as I did 26 years ago. There isn’t “one” thing that made this Biennial so magical; all the parts fit together to make a more beautiful whole.

1477632_718678161477877_637043718_nIt was Duncan on the bimah, a 13 year old advocating for marriage equality, because his rabbis and his congregation call forth their youth to believe in justice and speak for human dignity and it was Jonah Pesner’s stirring tribute to Nelson Mandela.

It was the soaring Shabbat morning worship with Rabbi Rick Jacobs and Cantor/Rabbi Angela Warnick Buchdahl (a classmate of whom the kvelling knows no end).

It was learning Torah with Paul Kipnes, Donniel Hartman and Amichai Lau Lavie and Shira Klein and Sharon Brous, Yehuda Kurtzer and Ruth Messinger who stirred our souls in ways that were provocative and soul stirring and agonizing and inspiring.

When David Ellenson placed his hands on Aaron Panken’s head and blessed him as he becomes President of HUC-JIR, it felt as though we were watching the first s’micha.

Rick’s Thursday night address was captivating and bold and creative, as were many of the workshops.

The URJ Professional leadership didn’t shy away from the tough issues facing congregations and our relationships with the URJ and the world, but they weren’t defeatist or depressive. The Campaign for Youth Engagement is serious, compelling, and resourced.

Friday night’s D’var Torah was a personal, clarion call to engage in gun violence prevention on the eve of the first anniversary of Sandy Hook. We celebrated Women of Reform Judaism and Anat Hoffman, who lifts our souls and whose tenacious advocacy for an Israel hospitable to our values and our dignity and our worth is prophetic.

At Biennial, we wept together, as colleagues and friends, for Phyllis and Michael Sommer, as they held their dying son Superman Sam, who was their son and touched all our hearts. The bitter and the sweet, darkness and light, together.

In Chicago 87, I met Dolores Wilkenfeld, a strong, elegant, gracious leader of WRJ. She was a courageous role model, a visionary supporter of NFTY and women’s reproductive health care. On motzei Shabbat, I embraced Dolores again. She’s a bit older now, as WRJ celebrates their 100th Anniversary and NFTY 75th. But seeing her, remembering all that we have done and become in the past quarter century, I was transported back to the future. Old friends, a new beginning.

1395226_10201045463995621_1517806018_nTo all the URJ leadership, professional and lay, who organized this Biennial 13; for all our colleagues who taught sessions and lead worship and embraced each other with ideas and weeping and tenderness; for everyone who continues to challenge us to be the most creative, welcoming, inviting movement in Jewish life, who demands we surpass our prophetic ideals of justice and compassion, who will settle for nothing less than spiritual excellence, I lift up my heart in my hands and offer deep, profound, humble gratitude. Thank you.

Rabbi Michael Adam Latz serves Shir Tikvah Congregation in Minneapolis, MN.