Ann Arbor Reconstructionist Congregation

High Holidays 2023

Yom Kippur Sermon 2023 by Rabbi Gabrielle Pescador

by

Aaron shall place his hands upon the head of the live goat and make confession for all the transgressions of the children of Israel.

Our Torah portion goes into detail about the Yom Kippur priestly practice. Aaron, the high priest, has to prepare himself and perform all the details impeccably. He risks death in order to do this. He wears special garments, has a ritual bath. He then atones for himself and his own household. Only after that can he enter the holy of holies and offer a sacrifice to atone for the Israelites and sprinkle blood on the altar seven times as an act of purification.

Our tradition tells us that in post-biblical time, in our time, prayer takes the place of the sacrifices, of korbanot, of ways of drawing near to God. We no longer have a high priest to perform sacrifices of atonement and rituals of purification on our behalf. The closest we have is the shaliach tziboor – the prayer leader. Whether that person is a rabbi, hazzan or lay leader, the shaliach tziboor is supposed to pray “on behalf” of the congregation, to lift their prayers. In fact the Shulkhan Arukh and other rabbinic writings list requirements for the shaliach tziboor; for instance that person should be pious, knowledgeable, have a pleasant voice and be well liked. 

There is a lot we can learn from rabbinic discourse as well as from our Torah portion on the subject of spiritual leadership, of what it means to be a shaliach tziboor. In order to help others, like the high priest, like the shaliach tziboor, we must first make sure that we have taken care of our own souls, and our own intimate relationships before we can serve the community well. If the promise for the Jewish people is to be mamlechet kohanim – a kingdom of priests – we are all called to imitate priestly qualities but in an inclusive, more democratic way. We all have to become the shaliach tziboor. 

How do we do this? We begin by doing what we are doing today – by doing teshuvah, by owning up to our errors and dysfunctional tendencies, and by taking responsibility for our part in a dispute or conflict. We are called to mend our ways and be impeccable – and I don’t mean perfect, because that’s not possible – but to be awake, present, focused, ethical and just, as we recalibrate ourselves. 

To draw from our wisdom texts, we are to cultivate a pleasant voice. That does not mean that we have to be professional singers, or even sing on key; it means that our voices should communicate pleasantly, with love, compassion and respect. As for being well-liked, I don’t think that is about being popular or charismatic, but more about being a mensch, being a trustworthy and decent person, and keeping our hearts open, and doing so especially in the face of conflict, and in interacting with people we find challenging. 

In one of our Elul workshops for instance we talked about finding things to appreciate in the people whom we find difficult. Doing this does not erase or bypass the challenges in our relationships, but what it does do, is help us to not turn people into unidimensional figures. 

Because we are more than our errors, we are more than our flaws, more than our irritations and hang-ups. If not, teshuvah is not even worth thinking about. And like I said last week (probably more than once), teshuvah is not just a solo practice; we do teshuvah in order to love well – to have compassion for ourselves and others, and to love beyond our besties, to love beyond our community, to love beyond the personal. To love God.

Like the high priest who purifies the Israelites by sprinkling sacrificial blood seven times, we purify ourselves with gratitude, as gratitude exercises the heart; it expands the heart. And if we want to draw from the 7, gratitude practice is a 7 day a week enterprise. If we exercise gratitude on a regular basis, we are able to zoom out and see more broadly, which helps us to reframe and recontextualize our struggles, and see how much we have in common with people we may find challenging. Through gratitude we may even understand their point of view a bit better.

In taking on the responsibility of the high priest, by being part of mamlechet kohanim, a kingdom of priests, each of us contributes to the wellbeing of the community. We lead from the bimah, from where the Davening Team is situated, to my right, from where you offer readings and kavanot at the microphone also to my right, and from your seats through active participation. Frankly, we are all leading by showing up here today. We lead by supporting one another, wherever we are, however we can, inside the sanctuary and in our daily comings and goings. We do this by being awake to the truth of “what is” before us and by keeping our hearts open so that we can find a way to build bridges of connection and understanding, and by appreciating what each one of us has to offer.

G’mar chatima tova – may we all be sealed for a good and fulfilling life in the coming year.

Kol Nidrei Sermon by Rabbi Gabrielle Pescador

by

We pray for peace. Oseh Shalom. We pray for the world to be experienced as one beating heart. How can this be achieved with all the polarities in the world? How can we make peace, how can we bring all the pieces together? 

Many of us try to stay on top of the news and commentary on it, we donate and volunteer, we champion good causes, we try to be good citizens, we try to be inclusive, we try to do our part. And I don’t know about you, but I’m completely exhausted from it, from all the information, all the misinformation, emails and calls to action. My head is spinning from the noise, from the worry, from the continual shock of how far things have gone awry. Don’t get me wrong, I want to be awake to world and not stick my head in the sand. I try to stay awake and do what I can. And sometimes it seems like all I can do is pray – for strength, for inner peace to get me through it.

In the very act of praying is the acknowledgement that we need help, that we need support. We can’t do it all. In praying we slow down and surrender a bit. In doing that, we come closer to experiencing the world as one beating heart. We come closer to recognizing that we have to take care of our individual beating hearts. The call for self-care is essential, especially now – to meditate, exercise, eat properly, to take time for relationships, for quiet and slowing down, to take time for rest, to turn off our phones, step away from the computer and rest, to let the mind wander, to read poetry, to walk in nature, to pray, to find ways to let go of all the schmutz that we are carrying around.

Our tradition has special slowing down medicine – and that is shabbat. To create a shabbat practice, a day without an agenda, a day to just be, a day to be with friends and family, a day to listen attentively to the inner voice, a day to listen attentively to the voice of a dear one.

If I may, I would like to plant a seed for the new year, and that is to invite you to find shabbat buddies. To have shabbat dinner together, to take turns hosting, to tell stories and engage in real heart-to-heart conversation, as a weekly ritual. Share spiritual practices, favorite poetry.

Perhaps a shabbat afternoon walk would work for you, or a visit to your shabbat buddy’s home for afternoon tea and snacks. Maybe I shouldn’t be talking about snacks today, but I’m sure you get the idea. Turn off your devices and enjoy one another heart-to-heart. Bear witness to the soul of the other. 

According to author Judith Shulevitz, shabbat allows us to escape from commerce and allow space in time, that if done in community can become a cultural asset. She stresses that shabbat is easier to do in community than as a solo practice. It’s harder if you’re the only one doing it. And I’m not talking about being halachic, but just carving out regular time to slow down even if only for a few hours. It doesn’t have to be for the whole 25 hours of shabbat; the invitation is to set aside a few sacred hours with ritual regularity. And sure, continue with your solo self-care practice. Just consider adding a spiritual mutual-care practice, a practice of restful true meeting with the other – to listen, to bear witness, to be playful, to share, to maybe study a bit of Torah together, to sing or pray together, to take pleasure in being with another. The invitation is to make time for this, to rest in the other and be refreshed. 

Slowing down is what will save us in this time of chaos and uncertainty. To use a Wizard of Oz metaphor of the ruby slippers, slowing down is the power we’ve had all along, that we always have access to. It doesn’t mean that we stop doing, that we stop caring about what’s going on in the world. It means that we have what it takes to stop spinning in circles with over-thinking and worry, continually making to do lists and ticking items off that list. We have shabbat. Shabbat is our pair of ruby slippers, that helps us come home – to ourselves, to our friends and families, to the God sparks within – that helps us come home to God.

Rosh Hashanah 2023 Sermon By Rabbi Gabrielle Pescador

by

This is a season of birth and rebirth. The Torah portion for today speaks to that theme, beginning with the birth of Yitzchak, a miraculous gift from God to Sarah and Abraham in their old age. After decades of trying to conceive without success, Sarah had given up on the dream of having a child and told Abraham to sleep with her maidservant Hagar, and Yishmael was the result of that union.

In today’s Torah portion, Yishmael first appears at Yitzchak’s weaning party. When Sarah sees Yishmael, she gets so upset that she tells Abraham to kick the boy and his mother out of the household. Sarah feels threatened by the presence of Abraham’s first-born son, so she takes steps to secure her own son’s position in the family hierarchy. Abraham is not happy about Sarah’s plan, but God tells him to listen to his wife. So Abraham casts Hagar and Yishmael out with limited provisions and Yishmayel nearly dies of thirst. 

There is a lot that is troubling about this Torah portion. Our forefather Abraham seems to have no moral backbone; he goes against his better judgment and follows a plan that endangers the lives of others, of his own flesh and blood. Our foremother Sarah shows signs of jealousy, hunger for power and extreme lack of compassion. And yet, we pray in their merit. We did this a half hour ago, earlier in today’s service, at the beginning of the Amidah; we recited their names in our prayers, Elohei Avraham, Elohei Sarah, “the God of Abraham, the God of Sarah.” They are supposed to be tzadikim, righteous people. They are the couple known for their open-tented hospitality. Clearly that is not the case in today’s Torah portion. 

We have to face that our biblical ancestors are flawed and not just a little flawed. The truth is that we don’t have examples of perfect human beings in Torah.

Isaac seems almost invisible to us, as he is limited and does not come into his fullness due the severe trauma of coming so close to being sacrificed by his own father. Rebecca and Jacob co-conspire; they lie and manipulate to steal Esau’s birthright. Joseph is a braggart and also lies and manipulates, and his brothers are so jealous of him, that they throw him into a pit to die. Moses is short-tempered and reluctant, and at times overly protective of his position of power. David is so covetous of Uriah’s wife, that he sleeps with her, gets her pregnant and then tries to cover up his misdeeds by sending Uriah to the front lines of battle to die; and then David marries Uriah’s wife. These are just a few of the many more examples of flawed behavior in the Tanakh. Yet these same flawed figures also have moments that are worthy of praise. They are generous, loyal, brave, self-sacrificing, wise. Some have deep moments of spiritual connection. Some reflect deeply on their lives and try to make amends and do deep teshuvah. We see the teshuvah impulse in the book of Psalms which is attributed to King David. 

We read the stories of our biblical ancestors over and over again, week after week, year after year, and look for lessons in their lives. You could say that their flaws make them seem more human, more relatable. That does not mean, however, that we should erase or excuse their flaws. Because they have impact. 

Our flaws also have impact.

In Torah, human frailty appears hyperbolic which makes it harder to ignore. The frailties become a giant mirror that we can hold up to ourselves to ask difficult questions. Who among us has ever been jealous or shown signs of entitlement, arrogance, anger or impatience? Who among us has ever lacked compassion for another, or been blinded by our needs and desires? Who among us has fought to maintain control? Who among us has bent the truth to manipulate an outcome? And yet, even if we have erred in those directions, we are not all that. Yes we are flawed, but that’s not the whole story. We have also been generous, loyal, brave, self-sacrificing, wise. Some of us have had moments of deep spiritual connection. Some of us are here today because we are deeply committed to doing teshuvah. And at times, that can be super hard because we also know that some of our actions have had a negative impact on others. We can’t erase that. But still, while holding the truth of what we’ve done, we can also do better, because teshuvah is a journey that also has impact. 

Torah teaches us that the journey of trying to create a rich meaningful life, of trying to build  family and community is of key importance – of trying to find a place for God/goodness to dwell  within us. All of that is the path to redemption. Like with our biblical ancestors, there are so  many obstacles in the way; some are out of our control and some are not. The obstacles that  are more within our control are likely more ego-based. They are the flaws that we can do  something about. 

In recognizing the flaws of our ancestors, we are asked to recognize the flaws in ourselves, in our communities and in our history. During the Days of Awe, we focus on what needs to be corrected and healed. And at the same time, we must give ourselves and our ancestors kavod, for journeying, for trying in the state of brokenness.

We have made mistakes and we are more than our mistakes. We are not perfect and never will be. Perfect does not exist. Perfect is static and lifeless. Trying, being awake to the moment, responding with our heart, serving with love, having the courage to recognize the truth of who we are in the moment, is the work of Teshuvah. We must commit to that journey. That is why we are here today. 

Erev Rosh Hashanah Kavanah By Rabbi Gabrielle Pescador

by

Shalom everyone. It’s so good to be here to celebrate the High Holy Days together and take a  deep dive into the process of teshuvah, to exame where we have missed the mark and how we  can get back on track, and to acknowledge what we have done well and what we want to  conDnue doing in the coming year.  

Rosh Hashanah, is an opportunity to recalibrate, to renew. AFer blowing the shofar on Rosh  Hashanah we recite: hayom harat olam, “today the world is born.” Through teshuvah, we birth  a new world; we have a fresh start.  

What kind of world do we want to create this year? What kind of inner life do we want to  create? What kind of worlds do we want to co-create with others?  

The truth is that we create worlds all the Dme, with our thoughts, speech and acDons. The  difference is that during the High Holy Days, we try to be more conscious of that and reflect on  what we need to correct and how we can make the most of what we have to offer in this world.  We also are to take note that teshuvah is not just a solo acDvity as we are social beings who do  not live in isolaDon. We are connected to one another and affect one another.  

Full disclosure, I think about this idea of connecDon, of interconnecDon, a lot, especially when I  am leading services, and so I have come up with a kavanah to help me feel the room, which I am  going to share with you this evening. My kavanah is a short visualizaDon that is based on  science believe it or not, on quantum foam. You may have heard of it.  

At the tiny quantum level, empty space isn’t really empty. It’s actually a vibrant place, with tiny  subatomic particles appearing and disappearing, in constant motion. It is a dynamic space that  bears some resemblance to the effervescent behavior of the foam on the top of a freshly poured  beer, with bubbles appearing and disappearing and for that reason, scientists call it “quantum  foam.”  

So now I will share my quantum foam meditation/kavanah with you.  

Before I start a service, I look around the room and take in all the faces. Join me and take a look  around and see who’s here (the familiar and unfamiliar faces, the people streaming on youtube).  Now close your eyes or soften your gaze and hold all the people in the kahal in your mind’s eye and  imagine dynamic beer bubbles between all of us in constant motion. We respond to the foam and  it responds to us as individuals and as a group. As we move, the foam moves. As the foam  changes, we change. Each of us are involved in all the subtle changes. Each of us affects the other.  

Let’s breathe into that awareness.

And now for the next step. Let’s visualize the foam lighting up. Imagine light streaming through  the bubbly space between us, streaming through us, lighting up all of us, weaving us together into  a giant tallit of radiating light.  

Breathe into that. Can you feel the person next to you? In your row? Can you feel the room?  

Now take a few moments to concentrate on the breath and center yourself and bring your  attention back to just you. Feel your feet on the ground and your hips on your chair, still paying  attention to the breath, inhaling and exhaling, and when you are ready, open your eyes and look  around the room and take in all the beautiful neshamot, all the beautiful sparks of light held  together as ONE.

Malchuyot Drash

by

By Deb Kraus

Malchuyot is about majesty, kingship, power.  

Because this past year I finally visited Israel and Palestine, I can’t think about power without thinking about the abuse of power.  We don’t usually tackle this problem from the Bimah and while I know what I’m about to say is pretty mainstream in our core community, I am aware that some visitors may be shocked by my candor.  But Marge Piercy challenged us in a poem last night, “where have I spoken out? Who have I tried to move?”  And the message I picked last night from theblessing box said, “may my words 

So here goes: 

Our group went to several Palestinian communities where power, on the part of the Israeli government, and the  soldiers and settlers they support, has been institutionalized:

 Ir David (city of David) is a national archeological site in disputed territory that appears to exist solely to document the presence of ancient Jews, so as to lay claim to the area.  18 year-old soldiers stand around in their crisp brown uniforms chatting with each other uzi’s strapped to their belts.  In Silwan, which is where Ir David continues to expand, Palestinians are being thrown out of their homes, and to add insult to injury, they are expected to pay to have their homes demolished.  

On another day, we picked olives near Bethlehem with a Palestinian family whose home has been destroyed not once, not twice but four separate times.  We used our power as Jewish Americans to prevent them from being bullied during the harvest.

But the situation which was the eeriest to me happened when we visited Yad Vashem, the national Holocaust Museum.  We were stunned to realize how many of the same tactics were used by both regimes.  For example, people’s homes are routinely broken into in the middle of the night and those detained have no due process. Palestinians can’t travel without going through slow , crowded checkpoints and out-of-the-way airports.  It is illegal for our guide, a Palestinian Christian, to live with her husband, an Arab Israeli.  Palestinians have few rights and no voice, and constantly live in fear that their basic needs will be taken away, if in fact, they ever could count on them at all.  

I know what collective trauma can do to a people, and I want to emphasize that I get “never again,” truly I do.  But in this case the new Israelis made the calculation that military strength and personal intimidation, humiliation, were the ways to insure “never again.”  And over time. this results in those 18 year-old soldiers I mentioned already, acting like this is normal.  And it results in settlers, some now in their third and fourth generation, militantly believing that this land, which is clearly within Palestine, is indisputably theirs.  

And so the oppressed became the oppressors.  Most ironically, of course, this has not resulted in peace or security for anyone.

I knew about all this, of course.  I’m a good progressive Jew.  But to see the many facets of this was mind-numbing.  And as an American Jew, this happens in my name.  In all our names.  

Sheila Weinberg, who we just quoted in her prayer for peace in the Mideast, was our trip leader along with her husband Maynard.  One day she pondered, “Jews never had power before.  And you never know how you’ll deal with power until you have it.”  This was after visiting Hebron, where settlers daily rain garbage and human waste down on Palestinian merchants… just meters away from where Abraham—Ibrahim—is buried.

While the Mideast is not simple, the overall message is: Power is so easily misused.  

So as we rise and prostrate ourselves for the Grand Aleynu, let us think about our relationship to our power and privilege and vow to become more aware of it.  And to stand up for the powerless, in our groups but also beyond them.  Do what you can, when you can, even if just so Marge Piercy’s words don’t sting as much next year.  For awareness is always the first step towards change.

Cultivating Gratitude in Challenging Times

by

By Carole Caplan-Sosin

I was out in the hoop house when I got the call. It was late march and all of my winter planning had turned into spring planting, and I was now surrounded by hundreds of tiny seedings which were to become the farm’s produce and products for the coming year.

I hesitated to answer when I saw that it was her. There’s no planning, no preparation, you know, for a call like that.

“Hello dolly,” I finally said.  “Mom”, she answered, “it’s cancer.” A blackness that had almost devoured me ten years earlier, began to grow thick around me and threatened to suck me in. 

I’ve been asked to speak this morning on how one cultivates gratitude in challenging times. I honestly thought this would be an easy piece to write. After all, I’ve had my share of challenging times, and as a yoga teacher and teacher trainer I’ve been talking about gratitude practices for years. But the truth is, as I sat down to write, all that became clear was just how difficult it is to cultivate gratitude—especially in challenging times! Sometimes gratitude simply seems out of reach.  It’s ok.

In the US in 2022, an estimated 290,000 new cases of invasive breast cancer were diagnosed among women and over 40,000 died from the disease.  At age 30 you have less than one-half of a percent chance of being diagnosed. Elana had turned thirty less than three weeks before her diagnosis. We were stunned. I packed for San Diego, where she was living with her father, not knowing when I would return. 

It was on the plane ride out that an unwelcome but familiar fear began to take hold. Ten years earlier her father had dragged me—and our family— through a long, unnecessary and devastating court case. With good therapy, however, I had learned to refer to this time of my life simply as “the crash,” and see it mainly through a rear view mirror.  Still, I realized I hadn’t spoken to this man in years, but would now have to be with him daily for months to come. But the panic eased with incredible gratitude I had that a friend was letting me stay in her beautiful San Diego home, and that, somehow, amazingly, her home was no more than 8 or 9 houses away from his. Sometimes gratitude comes gifted from and for what others do for us. Let them.

Every night at dinner since they were very small, I would ask my kids to share their best and worst thing of the day. Rules were you could have two bests, but never two worsts. My first night in San Diego Elana announced her worst was that she had been diagnosed with cancer, but her best was that her parents were together with her, sharing shabbat dinner in her father’s home. Sometimes gratitude just shows up and blows your mind.

A breast cancer diagnosis is a portal through which you pass and are changed forever. We agreed that we would look towards the BEST POSSIBLE outcome—whatever that might be, grateful for the incredible privilege we had to get Elana the care that she needed. Elana extracted and froze her eggs, proactively shaved her head and thoughtfully donated her long curly hair. We bought wigs and scarves to adorn her beautiful baldness, but we also bought donuts and bagels to bring to each chemo and doctor visit, consciously offering thanks to those who devoted their lives to helping families like ours. Elana decorated each box with colorful markers as we waited in endless waiting rooms. It wasn’t a lot. But it was something we could do. Sometimes gratitude comes from and for what we can do for others. Just do it.

You will not hear me say that ‘everything happens for a reason’. I’m just not convinced life works that way.  And I will never say that I’m grateful for Elana’s cancer. Yet who knew a possibility existed where my ex and I could talk and laugh and sing karaoke and love our child together as she went through the horrible thing she did? Who knew that Elana’s cancer journey would allow me to so deeply heal that part of me horribly damaged years earlier? Sometimes gratitude disguises and surprises. Let yourself be amazed by it.

But can we actually cultivate gratitude? I don’t know. Maybe the best we can do is surrender to all that we can’t control, and learn to live with radical acceptance of what shows up in our lives. Perhaps work to cultivate a lifestyle that allows for the possibility of moments of gratitude to become accessible. I walked early every morning in California and consciously took notice of the flowers, the sun and the sea. It filled me just enough so that I would have something to offer her when I arrived as she woke each day. Sometimes gratitude is no more than the by-product of softening inner spaces that we hold so tightly closed. Let gratitude set you free.

While I was in California tending Elana, the weeds on the farm grew uncontrollably, swallowing perennials whole. Fruit trees bent and broke under the weight of untended fruit. Those seedlings that I had nursed that previous winter and early spring—they all died. But tomorrow is Elana’s cancerversary- and together we will celebrate her being one year cancer-free. Of the 4 million breast cancer survivors in the United States today, it’s easy to be grateful that my daughter is one of them.

I pray that this year we all may find gratitude, or that gratitude may find us so that our minds may be a little more open, and our hearts a little more free.  G’mar tov.

Zichronot Drash

by

by: David Erik Nelson

Zichronot, “Remembrances.” This is the second of the three major themes of Rosh Hashanah. It’s the meat sandwiched between Malchuyot—”Kingliness,” which is the All-of-Everything of the physical Universe we enjoy—and the enigmatic sounding of the Shofar.

There’s a tendency to treat Zichronot as being about self-inspection: The High Holidays are a time for taking stock of the prior year, for looking to how we can avail ourselves better in the coming year. So we remember what passed, and try to mend the misses.

That’s a good practice.

But I wanna suggest that its liturgically off the mark, and overly negative. 

Zichronot is rooted in the word Zichor—the command to “remember“. And Zichor is more often used in Torah to talk about God remembering or noting someone, not people reflecting on past deeds.  

In Pslam 25, David writes: 

Remember, Adonai,

Your compassions and Your mercies—

for they are from eternity.

Remember not the sins of my youth, nor my rebellion.

According to Your mercy remember me,

    for the sake of Your goodness, Adonai.

Those “remembers” are Zichor. Likewise, it’s Zichor when HaShem remembers Noah and the beasts in the ark, and so makes the floods subside.  It’s Zichor when the Eternal remembers Hannah and Rachel and gives them children, and Zichor again when Elohim remembers that we were slaves in Egypt. It’s Zichor Samson cries out for when he needs a little more oomph to crush the Philistines.

Additionally, while our modern reading of this Season of Remembrance often fixates on the negative —the errors we’ve made, the harms we’ve done —more often than not, those ancient Zichors are asking the Universe to recall what has been good in us and worthy.

I raise this only because we have an awful habit of only remembering what is shameful, only fixating on what hurts.  No one thinks about their stomach when it feels fine; none of us can think of anything else when it aches.

So that’s my hope for this year . . .  that we be willing to ask of ourselves, and of each other, the thing that ancient Jews asked of that Terrifying and All Powerful Being They Sensed Encompasses Us All:

To remember fondly, to see what’s good in the person sitting across from you at the dinner table, to accept and seek to expand and amplify the good in what you are, and have been, and will be in the coming year.

Amen.

Shofarot: Rosh Hashanah 2023

by

By Anita Rubin-Meiller

I am an early morning person, so it was not surprising that as I was wondering what to offer for this brief drash, I awoke with these words of the Sufi poet Rumi on my mind:

“The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you- Don’t go back to sleep”

Every year we gather together at Rosh Hashanah to hear the same message sounded through the shofar: wake up, wake up, keep returning to waking up. What is this awakening we are meant to be engaging with this day, the whole month of Elul that preceded it, and the 10 days of Teshuvah that will follow it until we gather again? In his seminal book for the High Holidays, “This is Real and you are Completely Unprepared”, Rabbi Alan Lew offers us many possible answers to that question. In a chapter entitled “the horn blew and I began to wake up” he writes: (this is a time)”to devote serious attention to bringing our lives into focus; to find out who we are and where we are going.” If I am like most human beings, than we all know that this is NOT an easy endeavor. It is a challenge to accurately and clearly assess ourselves, to be completely honest about all the dimensions of our aliveness – our physical, mental, spiritual, emotional and relational states.

I am an early morning person and it is easy for my heart to open to the secrets the breezes of the dawn might hold. It is easy for me to delight in the early morning quiet, in bird song and sunrise and to engage in meditative, contemplative, self-reflective practices at this time of day…feeling openhearted and close to God. But as the day progresses it is easy to be possessed by habitual mind states – expectations, planning, dissatisfactions, wants and to move through at least parts of my day on “automatic pilot”. 

“Don’t go back to sleep” Rumi and the shofar shout at us; return again and again to awakening.

My daughter Melissa and I have had a very close and loving relationship with many shared joys and adventures and with plenty of challenges that we have both worked hard at resolving. Her visit home last December however was experienced by both of us as fairly disastrous. We each held the other to blame in numerous ways and after she left, I felt that I did not want to talk to her for a very long time. That feeling was an awakening, a call that I had better look within.

The second line of Rumi’s poem reads: “You must ask for what you really want. Don’t go back to sleep.”

What I really wanted then and now is for a loving, non-reactive, honest and understanding relationship with my daughter. I knew that that had to start with me and so I journaled a lot and went to see a therapist. In that way I came to see what stirred inside of me that contributed to our difficulties during that visit. I saw how guarded I needed to be growing up; how risky it was to be vulnerable or speak my truth. I saw how frequently I was judged and criticized and deemed “too sensitive”. I saw how I have continued to carry this protective impulse even in my most dear relationships where it is the least necessary. I saw how that interferes with honest communication, especially when I am feeling concerned, critical or hurt. I awoke to knowing more deeply that to have what I really want in all my relationships I need to bring awakened attention to hearing the messages of my mind and heart clearly and to discerning if something needs to be communicated even when it is uncomfortable, or if it is something I need to work on within myself. 

I know that what I want to manifest in my life, what I am most called to live from are qualities of love, compassion, gratitude and joy. I know that the path to doing that includes actions of connection, deep listening, daily spiritual practices and faith. This does not mean I am capable of staying awake to making them manifest at all times. Sometimes I will lose my way. Sometimes the world, or the dynamics of a relationship will overwhelm.

Rumi concludes: “People are going back and forth across the doorsill where the two worlds touch. The door is round and open. Don’t go back to sleep.”

We go back and forth across the doorsill many, many times, with and without awareness, knowing and forgetting our intentions. We can only do our best to return again, to awaken to being genuinely who we are. Don’t go back to sleep.

High Holidays Call For Volunteers and Participation!

by

By Deb Kraus

Long before the Ann Arbor Reconstructionist Congregation became a congregation, we were a very participatory and leaderless Havurah.  And as we entered our own rabbinic era, it was with the mindset that we would continue to be participatory, not only singing along, creating music and reading poetry, but in creating ritual and kavannot (intentions for prayers).

In the past year when we once again didn’t have our own rabbi to rely on, we all stepped up in amazing and fascinating ways, and as we enter into this new period with Rav Gavrielle at the helm, we are committed to continuing to offer opportunities for many voices, not only leader voices, to be heard.

I am once again recruiting volunteers for this year’s High Holiday services.  The slots range from candle lighting and ark openings/closings to reading pre-picked out poetry to writing your own drash for a part of the service.  

When people don’t volunteer I tend to choose people I know, which is a large percentage of the kahal, but by no means all of it.  So, before I go and do that, and risk leaving great people out, I want to put out this call for volunteers.  What I am hoping for is to hear from the people who don’t generally volunteer!  Almost all the opportunities can be shared with others, like a partner or a friend, or some sort of affinity group, like maybe your mishpacha.

SO here goes!

First, here is the call for kavannot/drashes:

  • The shofar service on Rosh Hashanah is made up of three sections:  Malchuyot (kingship/majesty), Zichronot (remembrance) and Shofarot (awakenings).  We want a drash for at least the Malchuyot section and would consider one for each other other two.  These are short, no more than 3 minutes (Other than our Yizkor service, this is where I have learned more about people in our congregation than just about anywhere else.  You get to tell a short story about something very meaningful to you).
  • On Yom Kippur day, Rav Gabrielle would like someone to share on the topic of “Gratitude In a difficult time.”  This can be a personal difficult time or ,you know, just the apocalyptic one we are living in.  Up to you.

Second, I need lots and lots of readers for poetry.  If you want to do this, send me the following info:

  • When you will for sure be at services
  • Do you want to read something more political?  More emotional?  More edgy?  More intellectual?  More meditative?  We even have an almost irreverent one on Kol Nidrei….

Third, here are the opportunities for other honors:

  • Candle lighting for Erev Rosh Hashanah
  • Candle lighting for Erev Yom Kippur
  • Lighting of memorial candle for Yom Kippur (if you have had a significant loss this year, this might feel like the place for you)
  • Ark openings for Rosh Hashanah day (2 in total)
  • Ark opening for Kol Nidrei (also if you want to hold the torah during the singing of the prayer, LMK)
  • Ark openings for Yom Kippur day (one still unassigned)
  • Ark openings for Neillah
  • Hagba (lifting torah) and G’lilah (dressing torah) for both RH and YK days
  • For havdallah at the end of Nei’llah, we need three volunteers, one to hold the candle, one to hold/pass the spices and one to raise the kiddish cup.  

Fourth, does anyone want to lead an afternoon workshop on Yom Kippur on the topic of Jonah?  This is what is the traditional haftarah for mincha, the afternoon service, and every now and then we like to revisit and reconstruct it.  If not Jonah, does anyone want to present on something else?  Keep in mind that we want to stay in a contemplative space, wrestling with a topic but not with each other.

Last, if anyone (who already knows how) wants to read 4 lines of Torah on Rosh Hashanah, because things are broken up differently due to it being on Shabbat, there is one portion unclaimed.  It’s part of what I do on non-Shabbats, so I can do it, but I thought I’d offer it up to someone else.

I seriously think that’s it.  I hope so anyway.  

If you are interested in one of these honors, please do let me know.  Each week I will let you know what’s still open, but wouldn’t it be less tedious for all of us if everyone volunteered by next MONDAY, August 28?  Please contact me via email at drdebkraus@gmail.com.

In addition to opportunities for service participation, we have a big signup sheet for behind the scenes helpers and greeters. We need everyone to sign up for at least one slot to make the High Holidays a success! Sign up Here!

Thanks in advance!