Parshat Vayechi

Here's my latest Thought for the Week for the Liberal Judaism website. Shabbat shalom!

What does darkness mean to you? Is it the cloak for unknown danger? Does its cover give an advantage to your enemies? We feel vulnerable in the dark, and for those of us in the Northern hemisphere, there is little natural light at this time of year. Tradition teaches that we invite the sun to return to the physical world by lighting the lights of Chanukah. We begin gently, shyly, with a single light for the first night. Each night we add a light, building on what was there in order to push the darkness further and further away, ending with a glorious fiery statement of rededication.  And then that great star, without which our earth would perish, turns her face towards us once again.  As my late father used to say to me, “it works!”

Yet Chanukah is past, the miracle of the oil has been exposed as a myth, and the darkness is still with us. Ritual and science may bring us physical light, but we cannot forget that our souls also need a beacon to show the path. We need energy to turn ourselves to the world, and the world to healing. We need hope to move ourselves forward. For those of us for whom the miraculous cruse no longer shines, where may we find the first candle to light our way?

In this week’s Torah portion of Vayechi, Jacob is on his deathbed. He wishes to put his affairs in order, and calls for his favourite child, Joseph. Jacob asks Joseph to treat him with chesed ve’emet. He wants Joseph to swear that he will not be buried in Egypt, but that his bones will be returned to rest with his ancestors in the Cave of Machpelah. Joseph makes this promise, and fulfills it as soon as the days of mourning for Jacob are completed. The medieval commentator Rashi highlights the phrase chesed ve’emet. He translates it as true kindness[1], teaching us that since it can have no reward, a kindness done for the dead is the ultimate kindness. Such a deed is considered to be the highest form of a mitzvah, and Joseph does not hesitate to perform it, thus becoming an exemplar from generation to generation.

In our search for inspiration, could chesed be the first step on our spiritual journey? At its basic level, kindness is simply the desire to help others - how might this heal the world? What about Faith, or Love, or Justice? Look, we are just at the beginning. Let us start with something doable.

Our world is utterly hectic as we rush from commitment to responsibility with eyes firmly focused on our next appointment. However, there is always time for a small act of kindness. And if you compliment a person in the lift on their cool snow-boots, if you wave at a child in a pushchair as they pass you on the street, if you ask a checkout person how their day is going while they are ringing up your groceries – to what do such acts lead? You have seen this person. They have been seen. Kindness shines a light upon the other. To know that you are seen is a sign that you are no longer in the dark. And the energy that this experience gives you will, in turn, have a positive effect on the next living being you encounter. Such reciprocity sets up a chain of chesed[2], building on what was received, and pushing the darkness further and further away.

2017 has shown us once again that when terror and disaster strike, our first impulse is always altruistic. From the bravery of those who run towards danger, to the generosity of those who offer shelter and supplies, our instinct is to help each other. We just need to learn how to do it better on a daily basis, and without the drama! As the Twelfth Time Lord said, “Laugh hard. Run fast. Be kind.”

May we be inspired by Joseph’s chesed ve’emet, and add our kindness to the light. May this rededication of our souls invite Shechinah to turn her face towards us once again.  Chazak, chazak, v’nitchazek!

---

[1] A hendiadys, i.e., the expression of a single idea by two words connected with ‘and’, when one could be used to modify the other.

[2]  A thought developed after listening to Rav Leo Dee’s podcast on this portion at webyeshiva.org

Snow Defloration

You'd think it had never snowed before in North London. The WSL football match was cancelled, the Tube was suspended and the pavements are covered in soggy blobs of slush that will freeze in the night and make walking a nightmare in the morning. I'd forgotten where I was. Looking out of the window in the afternoon, I wondered why nobody had shovelled the sidewalk. Then I remembered that sidewalks get shovelled, but pavements do not. I'm not in Kansas any more. Or Brooklyn. Actually, it's been a couple of years since we had anything more than a flurry in Finchley. I guess we have to remember what one is supposed to do in such cases. Meanwhile, from the comfort of my faux Barcalounger, I shall check out a game of football played in New York today:

The Marvellous Mrs Maisel

It's the middle of the night so I am a little fuzzy and cannot remember who it was that suggested I watch The Marvelous Mrs Maisel. I have just watched the pilot ep, and am hooked. Maybe it's because my first ever primary school teacher was called Mrs Maisel? Probably not. Maybe it's because the show was created by the mind behind the Gilmore Girls? Possibly. Maybe it's because I clocked that the comic was ripping off Bob Newhart before it became a big plot point? Quite probably - a shared comedy palate is very attractive (aka it feels good to feel smart like that). Anyway, it is beautiful to look at, it made me laugh aloud, and it's great to see a Jew decide to not be a victim. I look forward to the next one. Now I lay me down to sleep.

Identity Crisis

Which was first, me or the emoji?!

On my way to Loftus Road at the beginning of the week, I thought I should warn my neighbour at the stadium that I looked a bit different from the last time I had graced my seat in the SA Road stand. Was a little freaked to see that after a long and difficult search* I'd managed to pick the same specs as the text emoji! 

On the plus side, if the response of friends and family is anything to go by, me & the 'ji have excellent taste :-)

* to be fair I must acknowledge the guidance and fashion sense of my beloved LL in this matter!

It's All About the Passion

 

A fan's-eye view of the equaliser

(warning:  amid the joyous screams there may be one fruity word (not from me - I think I am the one who screamed WOO HOO! Quite surprised to learn that this is my go-to exclamation of joy) - nu, please make sure not to play this in front of children)


Yes, more football, I know ... but, you see, it really is one of my passions, and don't you think that it is our passions that fuel our lives?

So last Monday, QPR were at home to Brentford. This was a local derby, and therefore Sky TV decided to televise it. QPR have a terrible record of embarrassing themselves on live national television, so we were not looking forward to the game. I always say that anything is possible, and try to remember that before every match. By the 90th minute, however, the pattern seemed familiar as we were 0-2 down, and the seats began to empty. The Brentford fans in the School End taunted us mercilessly, telling our manager that he would be sacked in the morning.

A couple of minutes into injury-time, the substitute Matt Smith scored a consolation goal, and trotted calmly back to the centre circle. That was nice, I thought. As we waited for the final whistle to end our misery, we got a free-kick just inside the Brentford half. Everyone bar the goalie went up for it. In came the ball, players scrambled in the penalty area, and suddenly that ball was in the back of the Brentford net and we all went mental. I couldn't stop laughing. Everyone around me was jumping up and down, punching the air, and waving at the Brentford fans. The chant went up, "Two nil, and you f***ed it up!" and then the whistle went. It was only a draw, but it felt like a victory. The feeling of elation was immense, and it carried me all the way back to Finchley on a cold, damp night.

On the way out of the stadium I heard some poor girl crying, "I went to the toilet and I missed 2 goals!" Did she not know that you do not leave during the game? (and maybe also that you do not have that last drink before the game) I guess you have to learn the hard way. Once we were losing 1-3 with less than 10 minutes to go and my father said we should leave so we would beat the rush at the Tube station. When we got home, we found out that we'd made a bit of a comeback and had won 4-3. NEVER AGAIN, I swore, and so far that has been the case. 

My point, though, is that (cliche alert) it's never over 'til it's over. A lot of people gave up and went home. Our manager had a go at them in the post-match interview on tv, and the media decided to attack him for it. Under this kind of pressure, he has now posted a video to apologise if people were offended. I wasn't offended, but then I didn't leave! As he said, he is a passionate man, and he wants his team to be passionate, and wants our support. It's all about the passion.

Shabbat Shalom

Sometimes a cheeky smile from a friendly face can make your day. Thanks to the bus driver yesterday whose grin helped me let go of the rude things the angry old woman was shouting at me! #smileplease #thankyou #gazza #letitgo #shabbatshalom

Happy Hodu

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get to Wisconsin this time for the first time in several years. My heart will always be there on Thanksgiving, with Auntie D & the Rileys & many wonderful memories. What will I do instead? I've put a couple of Happy Hodus up on Facebook, but that's really more of a reflex. When I was young, my father would go to a hotel somewhere around Russell Square that did Thanksgiving dinner for lonely Americans (my British mother did not feel it appropriate to celebrate an occasion that marked running away from the nasty British people). I checked out that hotel the other day. They had no idea of such a dinner, but did try to get me interested in their Halloween party. So nu, no dinner for me. That's fine - I'm a perpetual turkey-pardoner. 

I was ready to pretend that Thanksgiving didn't exist this year, and then a dear friend posted that she was listening to Arlo Guthrie's Alice's Restaurant whilst preparing her feast. And so, with thanks to Leslie, I'm now listening to 18 minutes of Thanksgiving joy! I used to be able to recite the entire piece. Luckily for you all, in my dotage I remember only random sentences. If you would like to listen to the original, here is a link.

Meanwhile, from my visit to Stockbridge MA in 2008, please enjoy Piglet & the red VW microbus letterbox outside the church, as well as Piglet on the steps of Alice's church.

Happy Thanksgiving (hooray hooray hooray)!

Great Away Games to Remember

One of the greatest things about being a football fan is the last 30 minutes before kick-off. In that moment, anything is possible. Optimism is high. You have hope. There is no greater feeling than hope! My QPR team kicks off away to Derby County in just under 30 minutes. This photo reminds me of another night when the odds seemed against us, but we were delightfully surprised. COYRS!

Weekly Football Fix

I wasn't able to get to Loftus Road yesterday, but at least nobody will call me a Jonah for the sad loss to Aston Villa. Sad to miss the chance to take more photos, so here's one from last week. Jordan Nobbs - Arsenal captain and England stalwart - and star for AWFC last weekend in the 3-0 victory against Sunderland. Here, however, goalie Rachel Laws thwarts the midfielder with a great save from a point-blank shot.

Dorrit F Friedlander z"l

Today marks four years since my beloved Auntie Dorrit died.

It is a night I shall never forget - sitting with some of her dearest friends around her bed, telling stories about her adventures. She left the world to the sound of love & laughter, on a cushion of joyous memories.

Of course I miss her dreadfully, but she is still able to let me know her opinion on a variety of subjects!

Someone recently asked me what it meant when we say that someone's memory should be for a blessing. I replied that knowing what our loved one valued in life may inspire us to express and share those same values. Thus our memory of that person is a source for the good deeds that we continue to do.

My aunt was one of the kindest people I have known. All three siblings - Dorrit, Charles and Albert - had kindness in their DNA. This is the blessing I want to share as I remember Professor Dorrit F Friedlander, aleha hashalom.

[NB this was posted on 14th of November London time, not quite the same day yet out west]

Remembrance Sunday/Veteran's Day 2017

Ideally I am a pacifist. And I acknowledge that I am able to hold such a view because of people who fought and died for my right to have freedom of thought.

There are not many veterans in my family, as they were mostly too old or too young for World War I (I'm still trying to figure out from a couple of letters we have exactly what happened to my grandfather Alex - he may have been a POW in Russia just before the Revolution), & during World War II if they had not been imprisoned or murdered then they were fleeing and living a refugee life. Albert's eyes were too bad for him to be allowed to serve as a chaplain in Korea, although he did try to enlist. However, his twin, my Uncle Charles, went to Berlin with the US Army in 1945, and remained as a reservist for the rest of his working life.

Charles was a physiotherapist, working with children in a Houston hospital. Every Xmas, he would don a Santa suit and bring gifts to the kids (we have some interesting photos with Albert and with me in that Santa suit!). One year, his army buddies helped him arrive in style via helicopter.

Today remembering all veterans and those who fell. Let us not waste the chance we still have to make tikkun olam in this world. Shavuatov.

AWFC 1-2 Fake Hoops

This is Jordan Nobbs, the captain of the Arsenal Women's football team. Here she is taking a corner during the first half of the Continental Cup match against Reading (known as the Fake Hoops to all QPR supporters). Ultimately, Arsenal lost 1-2, but they will probably still make it to the quarter-finals alongside today's opponents. I love this picture. I think it must be the mother and child in the background that makes it stand out vs other shots I've taken of Nobbs' corner-kicks. 

Singing 1984

Never realised I was such a Top 40 girl, but then 1984 was the year that I tried so hard (and failed) to fit in with my university classmates. It did lessen the bullying somewhat. These days all I really remember are songs that when I hear them I must sing. These thoughts have been triggered by an episode of Top of the Pops from 1984 I just watched. The Weather Girls performed "It's Raining Men" and from the first chord I sang along and realised that I knew all the words. Am having a bit of trouble falling asleep, so here are 10 other songs from 1984 that insist I must sing along:

*  All Cried Out (Alison Moyet)
*  Dancing in the Dark (Bruce Springsteen)
*  Here Comes the Rain Again (Eurythmics)
*  Jump (The Pointer Sisters)
*  Robert DeNiro's Waiting (Bananarama)
*  Shout to the Top (The Style Council)
*  Time after Time (Cyndi Lauper)
*  Your Love is King (Sade)
*  What's Love Got to Do With It? (Tina Turner)
*  99 Luftballons (Nena)

(Songs that didn't quite make it included:  Against All Odds (Phil Collins), Careless Whisper (GM), Hold Me Now (Thompson Twins), Karma Chameleon (Culture Club), Owner of a Lonely Heart (Yes), The Power of Love (Frankie Goes to Hollywood), Girls Just Wanna Have Fun (Cyndi), When Doves Cry (Prince))

They Scored a Goal (But We Won in the End)

This is the goal scored by Leo Bonatini for Wolverhampton Wanderers against QPR yesterday. The #18 on the left, Jota, cut through half the R's defence and pulled the ball back ...

... despite the despairing dive of Jack Robinson, the ball smashed into the roof of the net. I don't mind sharing this because in the second half, in the same goal, Matt Smith caused great excitement and joy  for many folk that I know (and also a few thousand that I have not yet met) by heading a second for QPR which turned out to be the winner. 

The Bee Project - Do Drop In

Artists in Spritz last week was a success - Yoshino introduced her new book about George Frideric Handel, and somebody told the story of King Solomon and the Bee ... in Italian!

If you have time to kill before catching a train from Kings X, Casa Tua is only a few minutes away. Why not pop in for a snack, a coffee, and some Bee photographs. 

The Bee Project

Today, with the help of my great friend Francisco, and the long-distance advice and support of my beloved LL, I hung 15 bee photos at the Casa Tua restaurant in Cromer Street, WC1. They are initially part of the event Artists in Spritz, and the manager has offered the opportunity for the pictures to remain on show for 2-3 months. I've been working towards something like this for quite some time, and am so excited that it has now come to pass. My first exhibition!

If you are in London, if you like bees, if you are hungry near KingsX-St Pancras, come to Casa Tua and have a look. You won't bee sorry!

Succot

[Here's a short piece I wrote for this week's Liberal Judaism e-bulletin]

Growing up at Westminster Synagogue, I have wonderful memories of Succot.  The Succah was decorated with exotic and rare fruit such as mango & pomegranate. There was the time that the organist started beating the rabbi with his fists, only for us to realize that the rabbi’s robe had caught fire from the festival lights. I will never forget our favourite guest – the pumpkin-headed Golem of Prague, who stood in the corner facing the entrance to the Succah. It was my special task to write on the Golem’s forehead the Hebrew letters that would bring him to life:  aleph, mem, tav – emet/truth. Every evening of Succot, his wide-open corn-shuck arms welcomed us under the canopy of laurel leaves. His felt-tip eyes watched as we waved the lulav and etrog. His permanent smile reflected our joy as we sang the Hallel, and ate Mrs Harari’s delicious date biscuits. As a rabbi’s child living in the synagogue, I wanted to spend the night in the Succah, but it was usually too wet. Instead, after the congregants had gone, my mother would make a fondue with the leftover challah for my sister and me to dine together, sitting at a small card table with a cloth and proper napkins. And there was strawberry mousse for pudding!

We had learned in Sunday School that our ancestors lived in temporary structures as they travelled through the desert. Of course we knew that there were poor and homeless people all around us, and we took part in tsedakah projects throughout the year. However, our refugee parents had worked long and hard to make a better life for themselves and their children and so, during these harvest celebrations, they offered us the fruits of their labour. Together we observed the Succot commandment, “v’samachta b’chagecha, you shall rejoice in your feast” (Deut. 16:14).

Our golem guest was part of the ancient tradition of hachnasat orchim/hospitality from which medieval kabbalists created the Succot ritual of ushpizin/visitors. Each night we may invite one of seven exalted guests to join us in the Succah: Abraham, Isaac & Jacob; Joseph; Moses & Aaron, and David. These days we might include Sarah, Rebekah, Leah & Rachel; Miriam, Ruth & Esther. Each guest represents a divine attribute of God, and our hope is that their presence will inspire us to make such qualities part of our daily lives.

As we appreciate our rich heritage, we must find ways to help those who have not been so lucky. Rabbi Moses ben Maimon emphasized this call to action in his interpretation of the laws of the festivals. He wrote:

 “While eating and drinking, one must feed the stranger, the orphan, the widow, and other poor unfortunates. Anyone, however, who locks the doors of his courtyard and eats and drinks along with his wife and children, without giving anything to eat and drink to the poor and the desperate, does not observe a religious celebration but indulges in the celebration of his stomach.” (Mishneh Torah)

This year, as I eat pizza in the Succah with my students, I will remember the friendly golem of my childhood, and those nights of food and fun. But I’m no longer a child, and I know that monsters are real and monstrous people are active in our world. Sitting within the fragile shelter that protected the Children of Israel during their journey from slavery to freedom, I remember my grandparents, z”l. They fled from the Nazi monsters, and found refuge & shelter in the UK. I know that I would never have been born if borders had not been opened and my relatives given permission to enter. So who am I to deny a safe haven to anyone fleeing persecution and injustice? In this country, the debate continues with regard to the current refugee situation. I understand that there are questions about logistics and resources. There are holes in the roof and the structure is small and shaky. We can discuss possible solutions until the lulav wilts and the etrog shrivels. Meanwhile, strangers, widows and orphans continue to suffer and die.

I am proud that Liberal Judaism is at the forefront of current efforts to welcome and support refugees in our country. Through individual and congregational initiatives, as well as partnerships with organisations such as Citizens UK, this sacred work is saving lives. Rather than hanging fruit on the walls of our Succah, now we give it to a food bank. The family meal cooked for Erev Succot is shared at the synagogue night shelter. Part of the community building is converted into a flat for a refugee family. With gratitude to all who are already imbued with the spirit of our ushpizin, and the hope that this Succot inspires us to feed our souls as well as our stomachs, may we continue to welcome those in need.

Chag Succot sameach!

The Joy of Victory

Having fallen behind twice to goals by Birmingham City Ladies' striker Ellen White, Arsenal Women won a penalty in time added on at the end of the game. Up stepped Jodie Taylor, heroine of the Lionesses in the recent European Championships, to score the  winning goal.

Escalator Shoes

The escalator up from the Victoria Line at Green Park Station is quite long, and I never was a stairs person anyway, so I tend to ride to the top whilst standing still. This gives me the chance to check out the shoes of the person in front of me. I like these ones, seen this afternoon just before rush hour.

Parshat Nitzavim

From the WUPJ website - a rare occasion, i.e., a written drash by AJ!

Parshat Nitzavim-Vayeilech

14th September 2017

This week’s Torah portion includes the well-known command from God to the Children of Israel:

“I call heaven and earth to witness against you this day, that I have set before thee life and death, the blessing and the curse; therefore choose life, that thou mayest live, thou and thy seed.” (Devarim 30:19)

I love these words. They are a simple and clear statement of purpose. They tell us that it begins with us. We must choose to take part, we must involve ourselves in this messy thing called life, we must act! So this week I intended to write about the concept of freedom of choice, and I had the beginnings of what I thought could be an interesting drash that examined the thoughts of the Lubavitcher Rebbe regarding what influences our choices. Then the telephone rang, and I heard the most heart-breaking news:  the night before receiving some important examination results, the child of an old school-friend had just taken their own life. When disease or adversity threaten our lives, we humans fight with such fortitude and tenacity. How could life have become so dreadful that this young person felt that the only way to deal with the pain was to make a permanent exit? How could they feel so alone and unheard? How could they choose death?

Suicide is one of the leading causes of death for young people aged 15-24. Adolescence is challenging, and our youth feel overwhelmed and vulnerable. We are losing too many of them. They are not the only ones who feel unable to cope. From gargantuan storms to unstable leaders with access to nuclear warheads, the danger to life around the world is palpable. New political leadership has brought to the fore profound divisions in our society. Daily life is full of stresses, and we often feel unable to find solutions to our problems. These are not 21st century issues. Throughout history we have struggled with the forces of nature, our enemies and our selves.Although we may not know what to do, the Torah does, if we choose to listen.

Last week the parasha commanded us to destroy Amalek. The Children of Israel failed to complete this task, and thus Amalek is still alive today. We may not be able to identify him as a particular person or group. However, Rabbi Yisrael ben Eliezer, an 18th century rabbi known as the Baal Shem Tov, believed that each time we worry about how God can let terrible things happen in the world, this is Amalek attacking our souls. We are required to wipe out the despair that we feel, this Amalekite poison, we must wipe it from our hearts so that we may serve God with joy, says the BeShT. That makes sense, but how may we follow his teaching?

This week, in the very next portion, God gives us an answer. God says, “Choose life!” Some of us have a sense of God’s presence in our lives, hear this message clearly, and are able to choose. For those of us not blessed in this way, what can we do? Parshat Nitzavim has an answer for us too. God tells us,

“For this commandment which I command thee this day, it is not too hard for thee, neither is it far off … But the word is very nigh unto thee, in thy mouth, and in thy heart, that thou mayest do it.” (Devarim 30:11,14)

These verses shine with a brilliance that brings tears to my eyes. Could it be that simple? Which word is in my mouth and in my heart? Which word has been with me since I was a child? What do I say when I lie down and when I rise up?

SHEMA.

“Shema Yisrael.” Hear O Israel. Pay attention. Listen. For all of us who feel alone. For all who feel unheard.For the child of my friend, and all those we love who are feeling lost. And for ourselves. What if rather than trying to fill the void with words – what if we speak less and listen more? Let the Torah speak. Let God speak. Let us listen to each other, for as we pay attention to another person, we build a connection. As we learn how to hear, we will understand what it is to be heard. And then perhaps, b’chol l’va-vecha, u-v’chol naf-shecha, u-v’chol m’odecha, we will all be able to choose life so we may live. 

Ariel J Friedlander is a teacher and Liberal rabbi working in the UK and Italy.