Monday, December 20, 2010
BEHOLD
I. Behold
In Torah, God shows the future in our dreams to whomever God thinks appropriate.
Then God sends wise interpreters to the dreamers to explain the messages that God has sent us.
Only when interpreted can the dreams come true.
Hinei, meaning Behold, is the word used in Torah to introduce such a dream.
II. Behold, Joseph dreams
Joseph dreamt of wheat sheaves that bowed to him and the aging Wrestler Jacob understood and interpreted
Thus, he gave his annoying son a striped coat.
So the story could begin and the prophecy come true.
Once upon a time, a gifted but foolish child was sold into slavery…
But when Joseph saw his brothers again, they were hungry and he was a lord.
And they bowed down to him and he understood, and forgave because it was basherte, meant to be.
Thus they hugged and they ate and they cried.
So thank you, Jacob.
Because without interpretation, a prophecy is wasted.
III. Then behold, science dreams.
While we sleep our brains show us random pictures of what we had seen that day or what we can imagine, based on what our brains already knew even if we didn’t know we knew them.
And our brain imposes order on the random and constructs a story.
Thus we gain access to the things we know but don’t know we know,
And we call that a dream.
Chalom is the Hebrew word for dream, which sounds like chalon, which is the word for window.
So a dream can be prophecy or neurology or a window to one’s soul.
And our therapists interpret our dreams so we’ll understand our inner motivations.
Once analyzed, a dream gives insight.
So Danke Schoen, Freud.
Because without explanation, an image is wasted
IV. Hinei! Rebbe Hannina dreams
He says,
Human versions of God’s vast intent are as unripened fruit,
Filled with potential,
Perceived completely only by God.
Hanina says that the unripened fruit of prophecy is a dream.
Which is kind of cool.
So I speculate,
The unripened fruit of truth is the story.
We tell tales with beginnings middles and ends around our seder table, for instance.
Then we bite into sweet charoses and pretend it is mortar for bitter bricks,
Because it fits the narrative.
So thanks, all you Jews.
Because without a congregation, a maggid is wasted.
V. Behold, Jacob dreams
Jacob dreamt of a ladder and souls that went up and down,
But his soul stayed put as he mourned his dead son, Joseph, who turned up actually not so dead.
And when Jacob got the good news and moved to Egypt, he had to face the facts.
At the end of his life, the end of Bereishit, he predicts the future.
Behold! says Jacob, and some get a farmland and some get sheep.
Behold! says Jacob, and those rotten kids, Reuben, Simeon (not so nice, not so honest, not so deserving) get futures of disgrace and division.
Behold! says Jacob, and Judah, who made teshuvah, who pleased God because he could learn from his mistakes and change,
Judah gets history,
Jew-dah gets us, the Jews.
Then Jacob dies, a hard, full life.
Chazak, chazak, Jacob – Be strong, be strong
So thanks, Genesis,
Because without dynastic mythologies, a dysfunctional family is wasted.
VI. Behold, Moses dreams
One tale ends, so another can begin.
In Shmot, starting next week, another great story, more unripened fruit, this one of murdered babies, supernatural revenge, bad guys, and heroes.
And, after a mad dash across the Sea of Reeds,
There’s much rejoicing,
Quickly interrupted by hunger and miracles and rules and revelation.
And even though the rest of us often find ourselves in the desert,
Or tied up on the metaphorical railroad tracks:
“Pay the rent!” “I can’t pay the rent!”
Not even dreaming of rescue,
Making bricks without straw,
No aspirations, no hope, no prophecies, no future!
Then here comes our hero, Moshe, “I’ll pay the rent!
Have some commandments! Become a people!”
So, nice to see you coming up in the third act, Moishe.
Because without a happy ending, complications are wasted.
VII. Behold, our dream
So we pray and listen for the presence of God in ambient sound
Trying to hear truth amongst all the voices of our lives
Trying to interpret the noise properly so that it will come true, if it should,
And we can be part of a much larger story.
Not Hinei,
Behold
But Hineini,
Here I am.
So we can all take responsibility and not be ashamed,
Se we can all learn from our mistakes and make teshuvah,
So we can all forgive and not be bitter.
And hug and eat and cry and change the world.
For good and for ill,
As did our illustrious uncle, Joseph of Egypt.
And our great great grandpa, Judah the Lion.
So thanks, Grace Paley, who more or less said,
“Without action, hope is wasted.”
Brucha At Yah,
Infinite and eternal so that we may have endings and beginnings.
I am so grateful that we are able to study Torah together.
Because without connection, dreams are wasted.
Amen.
Written originally for the Drisha Institute Artists Fellowship program, based on our study of dreams in Talmud
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Bereishit: Understanding Light and Dark, Five Strategies
Torah begins, appropriately enough, with Beginning:
“When God began to create heaven and earth, the earth was a chaos, unformed, and on the chaotic waters face there was darkenss. Then God’s breath glided over the face of the waters and God said, “let there be light and there was light. And when God saw the light, that it was good, God divided the light from the darkness."
Okay. So there was darkness but there was no light, thesis with no antithesis, but how can darkness exist if light does not exist as its opposite? Then God speaks, God uses words and describes the existence of light, so there is light? But light still wasn’t separate from darkness, light and dark were one! So God divides the light and the darkness, there is now morning and night and bang, we have a day, the first day. But how can dark and light exist and not be divided? So was there light before God created light? When God began to create the world, but there was already the earth, though it was in chaos? So …so when did the chaos get created? What was before the chaos? And what was the source of the light? The sun wasn’t created until the fourth day!
Questions. Many questions. I guess at this point, we need citations…
As it is written by Shalom Noach Berezovsky, in the Netivot Shalom,(and thank you to Rabbi Jonathan Slater and the Institute for Jewish Spirituality for passing this on):
The Zohar (II 148b) teaches that the light of the first day was hidden away, but not completely. If it were completely hidden, the world itself could not exist for a moment. Rather, it was hidden as a seed which, obscured in the earth, produces seeds and fruits, and through it the world is sustained. This means that God’s light is always present, even if it is hidden. But, the whole of creation is made up of earthy, material things which would, of themselves, lead us astray. The response is to bask in the divine light that is always present in that very creation.
Okay, good. Another one!
Rabbi Larry Kushner, on G-dcast.com, says “Let there be light wasn’t optical light, the light of day one was consciousness, or awareness.”
More! The Women’s Torah Commentary says that, “as the first of Gods creative acts, light becomes not only a physical phenomenon but also a symbol of clarity and illumination that extend beyond the physical.”
Fantastic~ And…well, I could go on. And on.
I could cite Talmud, midrash, commentaries and the internet along these lines all day. I was doing the research for it, I had an outline, but what was I doing? What was I trying to accomplish? I’m trying to make something that is ancient into something contemporary, trying to interpret something that comes from a culture that shares almost no references or paradigms with the culture I live in, trying to find linear rationality in a creation myth that was never meant to be linear or rational. Why?
Don’t get me wrong. I love this stuff. I’ve barely dipped my toe into Talmud and midrash, in how the rabbis and scholars have worked to understand the anomalies, or as Larry Kushner calls it, the “not fitting of ideas”, but it’s fascinating and deep. I’d happily spend the rest of my life learning this cumulative and associative way of thinking, but, at the start of a new year of Torah study, is a list of citations in the search for logical consistency of a few lines really where I want to start? Where we want to start? How else can I reconcile the contraditictions and gaps of Torah?
What is to be done? Thus far I have found five possible strategies for reconciling the ancient and the contemporary:
One. Scoff at the contradictions and walk away from the whole thing. I hit upon this brilliant idea at the age of fourteen. And it worked for me for over twenty years. But I couldn’t stay away so then I tried-
Two. Live with the contradictions and don’t try to make then work. I used to think that the only way to have intellectual integrity was to have consistency. I thought that God as I was taught God as a child was nonsensical, then I had to reject everything else that came along with that God. I decided I could resolve this by giving up consistency, by saying, okay, I want rational empirical thinking and transcendent religion and Torah knowledge in my life, I will just wall them all off into their separate worlds, won’t try to make them gibe, enjoy them all just as they are but separately. After all, am I not capable of holding more than two opposing ideas in my mind at the same time without my head exploding?
But then I started to do study, really started to see a glimmer of the coolness of midrash. Those guys, they wanted consistency, too, and they were gonna make it work, which led me to -
Three. Intellectualize the contradictions away. At least on some level, that’s what a lot of midrash and Talmud is about. Reason your way through all the permutations until you can come up with a rational reason why the Torah is sometimes inconsistent, nutty or creepy. Much of their work is brilliant and forms the basis of how we think. Some of it is kind of sad and ridiculous but dazzling nonetheless. I adore the intellectual gymnastics but it’s not always enough. So,
Four. Meld the contradictions with feelings and stories so that they make a kind of sense: stories that are the Hasidic equivalents of the Zen koan, the sound of one scroll clapping, more or less; poems that capture the basic human needs and feelings and perceptions within the framework of Jewish thought. They sound right, they feel good, they capture the essence of what we know to be true. But it’s often a feeling thing, for me anyway, not a thinking thing. And I need both. Lately I’ve begun to glimpse an alternative.
Five. I begin to think that they’re not contradictions at all, that they’re part of a larger understanding of connection and learning and yearning, that it’s okay if I can’t always see those connections, I can just let them be there, and if at some point I manage to put it together, great and if not, that’s fine.
I think all five approaches are a necessary part of understanding the light and dark of Torah. Each approach is just one aspect of a Torah life. God’s light is in the questions, not the answers, the argument not the resolution. This is truly doubt as an act of faith. As we begin the year of Torah study, I can't help but feel lucky for the opportunities to scoff, ignore, intellectualize, poeticize and accept it all, as God (however I understand that at any given moment) speaks and creates.
One last citation, again from Netivot Shalom,
"The light made available to those who study Torah is a “thread of light”, which in its source in the Talmud is a “thread of love (chesed)”. The light in the Tabernacle was the cloud of God, the Shekhinah. The Shekhinah and God’s love are always present to sustain the world, and those in it. Those who study Torah bring this light into the world."
“When God began to create heaven and earth, the earth was a chaos, unformed, and on the chaotic waters face there was darkenss. Then God’s breath glided over the face of the waters and God said, “let there be light and there was light. And when God saw the light, that it was good, God divided the light from the darkness."
Okay. So there was darkness but there was no light, thesis with no antithesis, but how can darkness exist if light does not exist as its opposite? Then God speaks, God uses words and describes the existence of light, so there is light? But light still wasn’t separate from darkness, light and dark were one! So God divides the light and the darkness, there is now morning and night and bang, we have a day, the first day. But how can dark and light exist and not be divided? So was there light before God created light? When God began to create the world, but there was already the earth, though it was in chaos? So …so when did the chaos get created? What was before the chaos? And what was the source of the light? The sun wasn’t created until the fourth day!
Questions. Many questions. I guess at this point, we need citations…
As it is written by Shalom Noach Berezovsky, in the Netivot Shalom,(and thank you to Rabbi Jonathan Slater and the Institute for Jewish Spirituality for passing this on):
The Zohar (II 148b) teaches that the light of the first day was hidden away, but not completely. If it were completely hidden, the world itself could not exist for a moment. Rather, it was hidden as a seed which, obscured in the earth, produces seeds and fruits, and through it the world is sustained. This means that God’s light is always present, even if it is hidden. But, the whole of creation is made up of earthy, material things which would, of themselves, lead us astray. The response is to bask in the divine light that is always present in that very creation.
Okay, good. Another one!
Rabbi Larry Kushner, on G-dcast.com, says “Let there be light wasn’t optical light, the light of day one was consciousness, or awareness.”
More! The Women’s Torah Commentary says that, “as the first of Gods creative acts, light becomes not only a physical phenomenon but also a symbol of clarity and illumination that extend beyond the physical.”
Fantastic~ And…well, I could go on. And on.
I could cite Talmud, midrash, commentaries and the internet along these lines all day. I was doing the research for it, I had an outline, but what was I doing? What was I trying to accomplish? I’m trying to make something that is ancient into something contemporary, trying to interpret something that comes from a culture that shares almost no references or paradigms with the culture I live in, trying to find linear rationality in a creation myth that was never meant to be linear or rational. Why?
Don’t get me wrong. I love this stuff. I’ve barely dipped my toe into Talmud and midrash, in how the rabbis and scholars have worked to understand the anomalies, or as Larry Kushner calls it, the “not fitting of ideas”, but it’s fascinating and deep. I’d happily spend the rest of my life learning this cumulative and associative way of thinking, but, at the start of a new year of Torah study, is a list of citations in the search for logical consistency of a few lines really where I want to start? Where we want to start? How else can I reconcile the contraditictions and gaps of Torah?
What is to be done? Thus far I have found five possible strategies for reconciling the ancient and the contemporary:
One. Scoff at the contradictions and walk away from the whole thing. I hit upon this brilliant idea at the age of fourteen. And it worked for me for over twenty years. But I couldn’t stay away so then I tried-
Two. Live with the contradictions and don’t try to make then work. I used to think that the only way to have intellectual integrity was to have consistency. I thought that God as I was taught God as a child was nonsensical, then I had to reject everything else that came along with that God. I decided I could resolve this by giving up consistency, by saying, okay, I want rational empirical thinking and transcendent religion and Torah knowledge in my life, I will just wall them all off into their separate worlds, won’t try to make them gibe, enjoy them all just as they are but separately. After all, am I not capable of holding more than two opposing ideas in my mind at the same time without my head exploding?
But then I started to do study, really started to see a glimmer of the coolness of midrash. Those guys, they wanted consistency, too, and they were gonna make it work, which led me to -
Three. Intellectualize the contradictions away. At least on some level, that’s what a lot of midrash and Talmud is about. Reason your way through all the permutations until you can come up with a rational reason why the Torah is sometimes inconsistent, nutty or creepy. Much of their work is brilliant and forms the basis of how we think. Some of it is kind of sad and ridiculous but dazzling nonetheless. I adore the intellectual gymnastics but it’s not always enough. So,
Four. Meld the contradictions with feelings and stories so that they make a kind of sense: stories that are the Hasidic equivalents of the Zen koan, the sound of one scroll clapping, more or less; poems that capture the basic human needs and feelings and perceptions within the framework of Jewish thought. They sound right, they feel good, they capture the essence of what we know to be true. But it’s often a feeling thing, for me anyway, not a thinking thing. And I need both. Lately I’ve begun to glimpse an alternative.
Five. I begin to think that they’re not contradictions at all, that they’re part of a larger understanding of connection and learning and yearning, that it’s okay if I can’t always see those connections, I can just let them be there, and if at some point I manage to put it together, great and if not, that’s fine.
I think all five approaches are a necessary part of understanding the light and dark of Torah. Each approach is just one aspect of a Torah life. God’s light is in the questions, not the answers, the argument not the resolution. This is truly doubt as an act of faith. As we begin the year of Torah study, I can't help but feel lucky for the opportunities to scoff, ignore, intellectualize, poeticize and accept it all, as God (however I understand that at any given moment) speaks and creates.
One last citation, again from Netivot Shalom,
"The light made available to those who study Torah is a “thread of light”, which in its source in the Talmud is a “thread of love (chesed)”. The light in the Tabernacle was the cloud of God, the Shekhinah. The Shekhinah and God’s love are always present to sustain the world, and those in it. Those who study Torah bring this light into the world."
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Sukkot: A Prayer for Spreading Joy
Blessed One-ness
Sharing Sukkot, the Harvest,
Sharing Sukkot, the Harvest,
Z'man simkhateinu - the season of our joy
We harvest our teshuvah,
We harvest our teshuvah,
And gather in the joy of redemption.
Citron, Palm, Willow, Myrtle
Etrog, Lulav, Aravah, Hadass
Heart, Spine, Mouth, Eye
Citron, Palm, Willow, Myrtle
Etrog, Lulav, Aravah, Hadass
Heart, Spine, Mouth, Eye
We spread our joy
In all six directions
Left, right, forward and back
Shma, yisrael, Adonai, Elohainu
Up and Down,
Up and Down,
Adonai Echad.
The stars are above us,
The earth below.
The past behind us,
The future ahead of us.
Family to our left,
The stars are above us,
The earth below.
The past behind us,
The future ahead of us.
Family to our left,
Friends to our right.
We are everywhere
And we are here.
We enjoy the harvest
Of our fields and our prayers.
We are home.
No matter how long it lasts
We have it now.
We are home.
No matter how long it lasts
We have it now.
We are one in the One
And we give thanks.
And we give thanks.
Amen.
Friday, September 17, 2010
YOM KIPPUR HAVDALLAH
I.
Praise the Before
Praise the After
Praise the Time In Between
Praise Kadosh, the holy
Praise Khol, the mundane
Praise Ha Mavdil Bein Kodesh L’khol, the one who differentiates between them
Praise Kabbalah, welcome the Bride
Praise Shabbat, the deepest rest.
Praise Havdallah, farewell to the departing soul
II.
I construct four walls and a roof and no windows
I put in only one door, open it once a year, and never go in.
Inside the walls, Holy of Holies
Outside the walls, everything else.
All I did was build a temple.
I buy some fabric.
I put fringes on the corners and cover myself with the cloth.
Inside the cloth, I am “kadosh” and I can pray.
Outside the cloth, I am “khol” and I gossip.
But all I did was cover myself with a piece of fabric.
I have a rimless cap.
I put it on my head and call it a kippah.
Inside my kippa, I’m alone but in conversation with God and my kehilla.
Outside my kippa, I’m by myself
All I did was put on a cap.
I have a candle, wine, and sweet smelling spices
I light the candle and dip it in the wine, I smell the spices and call it havdallah.
Before sunset, guilt and sin and begging for forgiveness
After sundown, onto a year of new mistakes, and hope.
All I did was wait for it to get dark.
I make a flimsy hut with see-through branches for a roof and fruit within.
I call it a sukkah and sit down for a meal.
From inside the sukkah, I see three stars appear.
Outside the sukkah, I see the same three stars.
Inside outside, same thing?
All I did was build a hut.
III.
Wine, Spice, Fire
Wine
Growth, harvest, creation, sexuality, body, love.
Purged of guilt, at least until tomorrow
Spice
Sweetness, Fragrance, art, luxury, flavor, comedy.
It is good to live well if you can.
Fire
Sacrifice, spirit, usefulness, justice, inspiration
Clear thinking at last and the work begins.
IV.
Blessed Was•Is•Will Be, that which Brings the harvest,
And wine to drink, fire to light our way and spices to make us happy
Blessed HaMavdeel, that which Divides time,
And separates the whole into increments that we may comprehend it.
Blessed Adonai Echad, that which Unites all life,
And connects us all that we may be one.
Praise Elul, the plowing
Praise Selichot, the planting
Praise Rosh Hashannah, the watering,
Praise Yom Kippur, the weeding
Praise Sukkot, the Harvest
Amen.
Praise the Before
Praise the After
Praise the Time In Between
Praise Kadosh, the holy
Praise Khol, the mundane
Praise Ha Mavdil Bein Kodesh L’khol, the one who differentiates between them
Praise Kabbalah, welcome the Bride
Praise Shabbat, the deepest rest.
Praise Havdallah, farewell to the departing soul
II.
I construct four walls and a roof and no windows
I put in only one door, open it once a year, and never go in.
Inside the walls, Holy of Holies
Outside the walls, everything else.
All I did was build a temple.
I buy some fabric.
I put fringes on the corners and cover myself with the cloth.
Inside the cloth, I am “kadosh” and I can pray.
Outside the cloth, I am “khol” and I gossip.
But all I did was cover myself with a piece of fabric.
I have a rimless cap.
I put it on my head and call it a kippah.
Inside my kippa, I’m alone but in conversation with God and my kehilla.
Outside my kippa, I’m by myself
All I did was put on a cap.
I have a candle, wine, and sweet smelling spices
I light the candle and dip it in the wine, I smell the spices and call it havdallah.
Before sunset, guilt and sin and begging for forgiveness
After sundown, onto a year of new mistakes, and hope.
All I did was wait for it to get dark.
I make a flimsy hut with see-through branches for a roof and fruit within.
I call it a sukkah and sit down for a meal.
From inside the sukkah, I see three stars appear.
Outside the sukkah, I see the same three stars.
Inside outside, same thing?
All I did was build a hut.
III.
Wine, Spice, Fire
Wine
Growth, harvest, creation, sexuality, body, love.
Purged of guilt, at least until tomorrow
Spice
Sweetness, Fragrance, art, luxury, flavor, comedy.
It is good to live well if you can.
Fire
Sacrifice, spirit, usefulness, justice, inspiration
Clear thinking at last and the work begins.
IV.
Blessed Was•Is•Will Be, that which Brings the harvest,
And wine to drink, fire to light our way and spices to make us happy
Blessed HaMavdeel, that which Divides time,
And separates the whole into increments that we may comprehend it.
Blessed Adonai Echad, that which Unites all life,
And connects us all that we may be one.
Praise Elul, the plowing
Praise Selichot, the planting
Praise Rosh Hashannah, the watering,
Praise Yom Kippur, the weeding
Praise Sukkot, the Harvest
Amen.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
The Watering
Praise Elul, the plowing
Praise Selichot, the planting
Praise Rosh Hashannah, the watering,
Praise Yom Kippur, the weeding
Praise Sukkot, the Harvest.
Rosh Hashannah, the watering,
Feeding, nurturing
The sweetness of life
In the Moments In Between.
Between the admitting we screwed up
And the asking for forgiveness.
We stop time and savor the moment.
Life can be so good, can’t it?
And today it’s fine.
Feed it with water and honey
Irrigate and watch it grow
Then throw those sins in river.
Who cares which book we’re inscribed in?
Today is great.
Happy New Year.
God of my current understanding or lack thereof,
I am so thankful for the beautiful weather,
the glorious music,
the fine words
and the sweet meals
that I share with my friends, loved ones and community
On this wonderful day
during this New Year celebration.
Amen.
Praise Selichot, the planting
Praise Rosh Hashannah, the watering,
Praise Yom Kippur, the weeding
Praise Sukkot, the Harvest.
Rosh Hashannah, the watering,
Feeding, nurturing
The sweetness of life
In the Moments In Between.
Between the admitting we screwed up
And the asking for forgiveness.
We stop time and savor the moment.
Life can be so good, can’t it?
And today it’s fine.
Feed it with water and honey
Irrigate and watch it grow
Then throw those sins in river.
Who cares which book we’re inscribed in?
Today is great.
Happy New Year.
God of my current understanding or lack thereof,
I am so thankful for the beautiful weather,
the glorious music,
the fine words
and the sweet meals
that I share with my friends, loved ones and community
On this wonderful day
during this New Year celebration.
Amen.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
A List, Of My Sins, For Yom Kippur
Praise Elul, the plowing
Praise Selichot, the planting
Praise Rosh Hashannah, the watering,
Praise Yom Kippur, the weeding
Praise Sukkot, the Harvest.
Aveinu Yah
Emotainu Yah
God of our ancestors
God of my childhood
God of the mystics
God of the philosophers
God of this community
Tonight I ask to be released from all my vows of perfection.
They were impossible.
I have made bad choices.
I caused pain
I was selfish
I talked behind people’s backs
I lost perspective
I wasted time
I whined and moped
I said mean things and thought I was funny
I went into debt.
I boasted
I was insincere
I did not take care of myself
I was too angry
I wasn’t angry enough
I projected my neuroses onto others
I used my abilities to intimidate
I didn’t use my abilities enough.
I did not sow or reap or harvest
I did not create.
I didn’t give money when it would have helped.
I didn’t give my time when it would have made a difference.
I lied.
I didn’t see others pain because I was too busy with my own
I was unsupportive to my friends.
I took my grief out on others.
I showed off.
I was foolish.
I was lazy
I was sloppy
I wallowed in self-pity.
I grumbled.
I was sarcastic.
I started every sentence with the word, “I”.
I did things that hurt other people.
Sometimes I couldn’t help myself, or so I like to think.
Sometimes I could help myself, and I knew it, and I didn’t.
I feared death and pretended I didn’t.
I thought I could control life and despaired when I could not.
Aveinu Yah, Emotainu Yah, God of my fathers and mothers, God of my current understanding or lack thereof, awesome and incomprehensible, for all these sins and many more, I promise to try for better from myself and others, and I pray for compassion and kindness for all who are in pain or who cause pain. Amen.
Praise Selichot, the planting
Praise Rosh Hashannah, the watering,
Praise Yom Kippur, the weeding
Praise Sukkot, the Harvest.
Aveinu Yah
Emotainu Yah
God of our ancestors
God of my childhood
God of the mystics
God of the philosophers
God of this community
Tonight I ask to be released from all my vows of perfection.
They were impossible.
I have made bad choices.
I caused pain
I was selfish
I talked behind people’s backs
I lost perspective
I wasted time
I whined and moped
I said mean things and thought I was funny
I went into debt.
I boasted
I was insincere
I did not take care of myself
I was too angry
I wasn’t angry enough
I projected my neuroses onto others
I used my abilities to intimidate
I didn’t use my abilities enough.
I did not sow or reap or harvest
I did not create.
I didn’t give money when it would have helped.
I didn’t give my time when it would have made a difference.
I lied.
I didn’t see others pain because I was too busy with my own
I was unsupportive to my friends.
I took my grief out on others.
I showed off.
I was foolish.
I was lazy
I was sloppy
I wallowed in self-pity.
I grumbled.
I was sarcastic.
I started every sentence with the word, “I”.
I did things that hurt other people.
Sometimes I couldn’t help myself, or so I like to think.
Sometimes I could help myself, and I knew it, and I didn’t.
I feared death and pretended I didn’t.
I thought I could control life and despaired when I could not.
Aveinu Yah, Emotainu Yah, God of my fathers and mothers, God of my current understanding or lack thereof, awesome and incomprehensible, for all these sins and many more, I promise to try for better from myself and others, and I pray for compassion and kindness for all who are in pain or who cause pain. Amen.
Selichot Prayer
Praise Selichot, the planting
Praise Rosh Hashannah, the watering,
Praise Yom Kippur, the weeding
Praise Sukkot, the Harvest.
And now, we begin.
Plant the Seeds
Begin the search.
For Selichot, Forgiveness
Dear God
Incline your metaphorical ear
Open your metaphorical eye
To our Abundant Folly
Iniquity and sin against wholeness.
Notice our pain!
We’re on our knees,
Asking for blessings, bracha,
Bending, pleading for kindness.
The truly evil are already condemned
The truly good are already blessed
And the rest of us, most of us,
Can only hope for mercy
And a little leeway.
We are ready to start the search for teshuvah
Returning every year
To plant the seeds of forgiveness
Of self and others.
Be with us in our struggle
As we pray for compassion and kindness
for all who are in pain
or who have caused pain.
Praise Elul, the plowing
Praise Selichot, the planting
Praise Rosh Hashannah, the watering,
Praise Yom Kippur, the weeding
Praise Sukkot, the Harvest.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Another prayer for July 4th
© 2010 Trisha Arlin
Brucha Ya, Ruach HaOlam
Bless Yah, Breath of the universe
Thank you for all the contradictions of Home:
Connection and Independence,
Satisfaction and Frustration
Dull Sameness and Scary Change.
Faith and Skepticism
Patriotism and Rebellion
Cosmic Glue and Holy Separation.
Trust and Disbelief
Joy and Agony
True Perception And Cruel Obtuseness
Kindness and Squabbles
Imprisonment and Picnics
Serene Nature and Fabulous Fireworks.
Home.
Modim Anachnu HaMakom.
Thank you for this place, our country, our home,
the United States of America of many voices,
land of both opportunity and disappointment.
Imperfect but sometimes incredibly glorious, home.
Where doubt can be an act of faith
And all hands are needed.
Amen
Brucha Ya, Ruach HaOlam
Bless Yah, Breath of the universe
Thank you for all the contradictions of Home:
Connection and Independence,
Satisfaction and Frustration
Dull Sameness and Scary Change.
Faith and Skepticism
Patriotism and Rebellion
Cosmic Glue and Holy Separation.
Trust and Disbelief
Joy and Agony
True Perception And Cruel Obtuseness
Kindness and Squabbles
Imprisonment and Picnics
Serene Nature and Fabulous Fireworks.
Home.
Modim Anachnu HaMakom.
Thank you for this place, our country, our home,
the United States of America of many voices,
land of both opportunity and disappointment.
Imperfect but sometimes incredibly glorious, home.
Where doubt can be an act of faith
And all hands are needed.
Amen
Thursday, July 1, 2010
A Prayer for Independence Day
© 2010 Trisha Arlin
Bless Yah
Awesone Oneness, wresting freedom from bondage
Essence of the Positive, offering the power to refuse.
Cosmic Glue, teaching holy separation.
Authority Incarnate, loving a good joke.
Bless Yah for this congregation where doubt can be an act of faith.
It is our home.
Bless Yah
Upon Which All Depends, demanding self-determination.
The Still Small Voice, knowing how to make a fuss.
Ruler of the Universe, ensuring that all Empires crumble.
Eternal and Fixed, giving the power to change.
Bless Yah for this Brooklyn of many voices.
It is our home.
Bless Yah
Natural and Beautiful Serenity, enjoying the fireworks.
Compassionate and Kind, keeping the ants from our picnics.
Biblical Warrior, making peace.
Ineffable and Unknowable, anchoring us in community.
And bless Yah for the United States of America, imperfect but sometimes glorious.
It is our home.
Brucha Yah, Ruach Ha Olam, notain lanu atzma-oo-tainu. Modim Anachnu HaMakom.
Bless Yah, Breath of the Universe, giving us our independence. We are thankul for this place.
Bless Yah
Awesone Oneness, wresting freedom from bondage
Essence of the Positive, offering the power to refuse.
Cosmic Glue, teaching holy separation.
Authority Incarnate, loving a good joke.
Bless Yah for this congregation where doubt can be an act of faith.
It is our home.
Bless Yah
Upon Which All Depends, demanding self-determination.
The Still Small Voice, knowing how to make a fuss.
Ruler of the Universe, ensuring that all Empires crumble.
Eternal and Fixed, giving the power to change.
Bless Yah for this Brooklyn of many voices.
It is our home.
Bless Yah
Natural and Beautiful Serenity, enjoying the fireworks.
Compassionate and Kind, keeping the ants from our picnics.
Biblical Warrior, making peace.
Ineffable and Unknowable, anchoring us in community.
And bless Yah for the United States of America, imperfect but sometimes glorious.
It is our home.
Brucha Yah, Ruach Ha Olam, notain lanu atzma-oo-tainu. Modim Anachnu HaMakom.
Bless Yah, Breath of the Universe, giving us our independence. We are thankul for this place.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Behold! Divrei Tefillah
Written for the 2009-2010 Drisha Artists Fellowship
© 2010 Trisha Arlin
Blessed Was•Is•Will Be, Breath of Eternity, that creates holy separation between waking and sleeping.
In Torah, God shows the future in our dreams to whomever God thinks appropriate
And then God sends wise interpreters to us so we can tell them our dreams and they will tell us the messages that God has sent us.
And, once and only when explained, the dreams come true.
Hinei! which means, Behold, that’s the word used in Torah to introduce such a dream.
Which is definitely not that thing that happens every night that you forget in the morning before you’ve brushed your teeth, but something important, something you must announce.
So here I go. I had a dream. Hinei.
II. Behold, Torah dreams.
So Joseph dreamed of wheat sheaves that bowed to him and the aging Wrestler understood and interpreted
Thus he gave his annoying son a striped coat,
So the dreams came true and the story commenced
And when Joseph saw his brothers again, they were hungry and he was a lord.
And they bowed down to him and he understood, and forgave because it was basherte, And no need to be bitter.
Thus they hugged and they ate and they cried.
So thank you, Jacob.
Because without interpretation, a prophecy is wasted.
III. Then behold, science dreams.
While we sleep our brains show us random pictures of what we had seen that day or what we can imagine, based on what our brains already knew because what else is there?
And our brain imposes order on the random and constructs a story
And we call that a dream.
Chalom is the Hebrew word for dream, which sounds like chalon, is the word for window. Possibly no relation (I must ask the rabbi) but to my English-speaking ears, this establishes connection.
So perhaps a dream is prophecy or neurology or a window to one’s psyche, I dunno.
But our therapists interpret our dreams so we’ll understand our inner motivations.
Once analyzed, a dream gives insight.
So Danke Schoen, Freud.
Because without explanation, an image is wasted
IV. Behold, Rebbe Hannina says
Human versions of God’s vast intent are as unripened fruit.
Filled with potential, perceived completely only by God.
He says that the unripened fruit of prophecy is a dream.
Which is kind of cool.
So I speculate, the unripened fruit of truth is the story.
We tell tales with beginnings middles and ends around our seder table, for instance.
Then we bite into sweet charoses and pretend it is mortar for bitter bricks
Because it fits the narrative.
So thanks, all you Jews,
Because without an audience, a maggid is wasted.
V. Behold, Moses dreams
Of a story of escape from bondage, bad guys, and a hero or two.
And after much pain and death, and a mad dash across the Sea of Reeds, there’s much rejoicing.
Quickly interrupted by hunger and miracles and rules and revelation.
And even though the rest of us
Often find ourselves in the desert, or tied up on the metaphorical railroad tracks
Pay the rent I can’t pay the rent
Not even dreaming of rescue, making bricks without straw
No aspirations, no hope, no prophecies, no future
Then comes Moshe, I’ll pay the rent
So Todah rabah, Shmot.
Because without complications, a happy ending is wasted.
VI. Behold, five old rabbis pull an all-nighter.
Reclining but not sleeping
Discussing the unripened fruit of Exodus.
Awake but always dreaming of questions asked over and over again.
Why on this night? And we children try to please them:
The grind who asks what they want him to ask and the wise-ass who won’t.
The sweet one, leaning against his mother, wants to know, why does anyone have to die?
And the littlest one at the kid’s table, stares at the drops of wine-blood on his plate and thinks, huh?
And the rabbis ask questions of each other and each one has a different answer.
But no matter how much they disagree, it always ends with the Shma.
So thanks, kids.
Because without questions, a long night is wasted.
VII. Behold, throwing dreams
Hannah invented personal prayer.
In private rebellion, she dared to speak her heart
And then fling it out to God.
And she wasn’t worried about High Priests or their approval,
Because her need was too great.
And God heard. Because God does.
Hineini, not Hinei.
So I pray and dream and listen for the presence of God in ambient sound
And hope to interpret the dream properly so that it will come true, if it should,
And be part of a much larger story.
So we can all forgive and not be bitter
And hug and eat and cry and change the world
As did our illustrious uncle, Joseph of Egypt.
So thanks, Grace Paley, who more or less said,
“Without action, hope is wasted.”
VIII. So anyway, behold behold behold!
Behold, my dream.
Sorry it took so long to get here, I wish it I’d arrived at it sooner
I really really do. But I got here as fast as I could.
So this is it, Hinei,
I dream of interpretation and analysis
Of neurons and freedom and food, of argument and doubt.
Of unripened fruit and leadership and complicated stories that get better each time you tell them.
I dream of Is and Was and Will Be
In the vast undifferentiated Ein Sof, timeless and gender free, One-ness.
I dream that we are kind to each other whenever possible.
And I dream of windows and connection and history.
I dream of the time and opportunity to study for all who wish to learn.
I dream of receiving wisdom from all who have to share.
And,Thank God,
Of a world where no books are unread
And nothing and no one is wasted.
IX. And behold, at last, my actual dream
That I had the night before the first day of classes last September:
HINEI! I am wandering the hallway and then I realize, I’m on a sort of scavenger hunt with the other students, we’re going from clue to clue.
It is very difficult but very exciting and at last, I find all the clues and I find my hidden treasure,
It is a message, written on a big piece of white oaktag, in calligraphy
One huge Hebrew letter,
Pei.
Mouth
Storyteller
The number 80, the sign of eternity and the the circle
Huh.
Behold.
Amen
© 2010 Trisha Arlin
Blessed Was•Is•Will Be, Breath of Eternity, that creates holy separation between waking and sleeping.
In Torah, God shows the future in our dreams to whomever God thinks appropriate
And then God sends wise interpreters to us so we can tell them our dreams and they will tell us the messages that God has sent us.
And, once and only when explained, the dreams come true.
Hinei! which means, Behold, that’s the word used in Torah to introduce such a dream.
Which is definitely not that thing that happens every night that you forget in the morning before you’ve brushed your teeth, but something important, something you must announce.
So here I go. I had a dream. Hinei.
II. Behold, Torah dreams.
So Joseph dreamed of wheat sheaves that bowed to him and the aging Wrestler understood and interpreted
Thus he gave his annoying son a striped coat,
So the dreams came true and the story commenced
And when Joseph saw his brothers again, they were hungry and he was a lord.
And they bowed down to him and he understood, and forgave because it was basherte, And no need to be bitter.
Thus they hugged and they ate and they cried.
So thank you, Jacob.
Because without interpretation, a prophecy is wasted.
III. Then behold, science dreams.
While we sleep our brains show us random pictures of what we had seen that day or what we can imagine, based on what our brains already knew because what else is there?
And our brain imposes order on the random and constructs a story
And we call that a dream.
Chalom is the Hebrew word for dream, which sounds like chalon, is the word for window. Possibly no relation (I must ask the rabbi) but to my English-speaking ears, this establishes connection.
So perhaps a dream is prophecy or neurology or a window to one’s psyche, I dunno.
But our therapists interpret our dreams so we’ll understand our inner motivations.
Once analyzed, a dream gives insight.
So Danke Schoen, Freud.
Because without explanation, an image is wasted
IV. Behold, Rebbe Hannina says
Human versions of God’s vast intent are as unripened fruit.
Filled with potential, perceived completely only by God.
He says that the unripened fruit of prophecy is a dream.
Which is kind of cool.
So I speculate, the unripened fruit of truth is the story.
We tell tales with beginnings middles and ends around our seder table, for instance.
Then we bite into sweet charoses and pretend it is mortar for bitter bricks
Because it fits the narrative.
So thanks, all you Jews,
Because without an audience, a maggid is wasted.
V. Behold, Moses dreams
Of a story of escape from bondage, bad guys, and a hero or two.
And after much pain and death, and a mad dash across the Sea of Reeds, there’s much rejoicing.
Quickly interrupted by hunger and miracles and rules and revelation.
And even though the rest of us
Often find ourselves in the desert, or tied up on the metaphorical railroad tracks
Pay the rent I can’t pay the rent
Not even dreaming of rescue, making bricks without straw
No aspirations, no hope, no prophecies, no future
Then comes Moshe, I’ll pay the rent
So Todah rabah, Shmot.
Because without complications, a happy ending is wasted.
VI. Behold, five old rabbis pull an all-nighter.
Reclining but not sleeping
Discussing the unripened fruit of Exodus.
Awake but always dreaming of questions asked over and over again.
Why on this night? And we children try to please them:
The grind who asks what they want him to ask and the wise-ass who won’t.
The sweet one, leaning against his mother, wants to know, why does anyone have to die?
And the littlest one at the kid’s table, stares at the drops of wine-blood on his plate and thinks, huh?
And the rabbis ask questions of each other and each one has a different answer.
But no matter how much they disagree, it always ends with the Shma.
So thanks, kids.
Because without questions, a long night is wasted.
VII. Behold, throwing dreams
Hannah invented personal prayer.
In private rebellion, she dared to speak her heart
And then fling it out to God.
And she wasn’t worried about High Priests or their approval,
Because her need was too great.
And God heard. Because God does.
Hineini, not Hinei.
So I pray and dream and listen for the presence of God in ambient sound
And hope to interpret the dream properly so that it will come true, if it should,
And be part of a much larger story.
So we can all forgive and not be bitter
And hug and eat and cry and change the world
As did our illustrious uncle, Joseph of Egypt.
So thanks, Grace Paley, who more or less said,
“Without action, hope is wasted.”
VIII. So anyway, behold behold behold!
Behold, my dream.
Sorry it took so long to get here, I wish it I’d arrived at it sooner
I really really do. But I got here as fast as I could.
So this is it, Hinei,
I dream of interpretation and analysis
Of neurons and freedom and food, of argument and doubt.
Of unripened fruit and leadership and complicated stories that get better each time you tell them.
I dream of Is and Was and Will Be
In the vast undifferentiated Ein Sof, timeless and gender free, One-ness.
I dream that we are kind to each other whenever possible.
And I dream of windows and connection and history.
I dream of the time and opportunity to study for all who wish to learn.
I dream of receiving wisdom from all who have to share.
And,Thank God,
Of a world where no books are unread
And nothing and no one is wasted.
IX. And behold, at last, my actual dream
That I had the night before the first day of classes last September:
HINEI! I am wandering the hallway and then I realize, I’m on a sort of scavenger hunt with the other students, we’re going from clue to clue.
It is very difficult but very exciting and at last, I find all the clues and I find my hidden treasure,
It is a message, written on a big piece of white oaktag, in calligraphy
One huge Hebrew letter,
Pei.
Mouth
Storyteller
The number 80, the sign of eternity and the the circle
Huh.
Behold.
Amen
Monday, May 10, 2010
Monday, February 15, 2010
Cited in Jewish Week
Forgive my kvelling, but--
Rabbi Ellen LIppmann, who was interviewed for an article on congregations and how they're dealing with the recession and she cited a prayer I'd written (and read to the congregation on Yom Kippur). The writer, Tamar Snyder, emailed me and did a little email interview and ended up using a little of that and an excerpt a small piece of the prayer, in the article. It's in the hard copy and also online
Rabbi Ellen LIppmann, who was interviewed for an article on congregations and how they're dealing with the recession and she cited a prayer I'd written (and read to the congregation on Yom Kippur). The writer, Tamar Snyder, emailed me and did a little email interview and ended up using a little of that and an excerpt a small piece of the prayer, in the article. It's in the hard copy and also online
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Va'Eira: A Fierce Mystery
This parsha starts off with God establishing God’s special relationship with Moses: “I am Adonai, I appeared, Va-eira, to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob as El Shadddai but I did not make Myself known to them by my name, Yud Hey Vuv Hey.”
No one knows what El Shaddai means, it might mountains, or breasts, it might be a feminine name of God. Yud Hey Vuv Hey, as Rabbi Lippmann has pointed out many times, quoting Arthur Green, is a version of the Hebrew word to be, so it can be understood to be about the Is-ness of God, God not being in time, God is something that Was, that Is, that will be, that is in the moment at every moment in the way that we humans, with our beginnings, middles and ends, can never be.
The parsha continues. God gives Moses the task of confronting Pharoah and freeing the Hebrew slaves but when Moses tells the slaves what he is about to do, they don’t believe him. Their spirits and bodies are broken by slavery and they don’t dare to hope. So God sends Moses after Pharoah, with Aaron’s help. Moses fears he is unworthy of the task but God insists that he get started. Then follows a list of the people, the clans descended from Jacob’s sons, leading to the birth of Moses. Then God sends Moses out to confront Pharoah and tells him that God expects Pharoah to not listen, which will give God, through Moses, an opportunity to prove how amazing God is, both to Pharoah and the Hebrews. Pharoah and his people scoff. Then of course there’s a bunch of plagues, the first nine, ending in hail. Each time a plague happens Pharoah relents, then as soon as the plague stops he hardens his heart.
On the surface the parsha might seem like it’s mostly about the first nine plagues, but I think it’s about trying to figure out who or what God is, and about the nature of doubting and disbelieving. As we are a congregation whose opening line of the mission statement is that we are a place where doubt can be an act of faith, this is the parsha for us. It’s both a parsha about doubters and takes on the question of the nature of God. I like it.
So who are the doubters in this parsha? I think there are four. One, the mentally and physically exhausted slaves, and they’re thinking, Who the hell is this Moses? Where has he been all this time and what makes him so special? Two, Moses, who doubts himself, lacking confidence in his ability to speak and or inspire. Three, Pharoah, who sincerely believes him to be a God, who is stubborn and selfish and is simply not interested in losing his useful slaves. Miracles, shmiracles, he ain’t buying it.
As Neshama Leibowitz says,
“We see from here that the sign or wonder can only impress the one who is psychologically prepared to be convinced.”
I’m not sure I’m prepared to be convinced. The fourth doubter is me, us, we who read this parsha today, the modern liberal Jews, whose paradigm is rational and scientific, who read the Torah as a bunch of stories, our mythology yes, but not our history or that Torah is metaphorical or sometimes poetical at best, who don’t believe in an interventionist God or a God that is a being separate from the rest of us. Anyway, that’s me, maybe that’s you. I shouldn’t speak for you.
So Kolot Chayeinu, where doubt can be an act of faith… When I first joined Kolot I thought that meant, I can be a skeptic and still join a Jewish community, or it meant it honored past and present activism, truth to power, doubting the current Pharoahs, and it does mean that. We can join in this great community without checking our brains at the door.
But now, after some study and reflection, it means something else for me. Doubt, for me, is not about scorning faith or spirituality or Jewish. It means searching and questioning and studying as a Jewish way of life, as a Jewish way to seek connection which I can now say, yes, a name for that is Yud Hey Vuv Hey, Is Was and Will Be, and I don’t need proof and I don’t need no proof, it can’t be proven, it will always be doubtful, and that’s the most interesting thing about Is Was Will Be, at least for me.
God is connection and I find that connection is in the search for connection. Judaism is my gateway to this, and the jewish tradition of debate and questioning is mine as well. I am not halakhic, I don’t think God wrote those rules and when they don’t have meaning for me, or if they don’t serve as avenues to my search for God, or if they don’t connect me to my community, then I can’t follow them. But if I can find meaning, if by saying a blessing or lighting candles I can stop time and for a short moment, exist with God in the non-time that isIs Was Will BE, then why not? I mean, c’mon, such a complex thing, approached so easily by such simple acts. I doubt it means a thing, but maybe it does, maybe it does.
Rabbi Laura Geller writes:
"Think about the “god” you don’t believe in. Is it that you don’t believe in God or is it that you are stuck on one particular name, one particular metaphor that doesn’t name your experience of God? Might there be a different metaphor, another name that opens up the possibility of encounter with a power grander than yourself, with a web that can connect every person to every other person?"
El Shaddai, Yud Hey Vuv Hey, Ein Sof, Yah, Ruach Ha Olam, Adonai, Ha Shem, what’s the difference? Our relationship with God has moved from a family and tribal God, El Shaddai, to a people’s God, Yahweh, and now, I think, for many of us here, to a universal God that is not separate from us, not a part of us, but everything that is us and everything that is everything else. Doubt is an act of faith because to doubt is to engage, to care, to argue, to look for this God so I wish for every Jew, for every human, this wonderful gift of faith, this belief in doubt.
Alicia Ostriker write this about Moses:
Between the God of the universe and the God of a tribe, between inclusion and exclusion, between the imperative of liberty and the imperative of law, explodes Moses. What we know about him is exactly nothing, exactly everything, he is a fierce mystery.
And I’d say the same about God, whatever that is for you. A fierce mystery.
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