Rabbi Glickstein: Elu V'Elu for April 2012

She sang the words with such innocence and beauty, so pure of sound and spirit. Many of us were moved to tears. Few present understood the irony of the Hebrew words themselves and the commentary they pointedly made on the situation we had encountered.

“Al kol eileh, sh’mor na li Eli hatov

Al had’vash v’al haoketz al hamar v’hamatok

Al na taakor natua, al tishkach et hatikvah

Hashiveini v’ashuva el haaretz htovah”

Her name is Claudia. She is 13 years old. She is a Cuban Jew living with her grandmother, mother and sister in a place called Sancti Spiritus in the heartland of the Cuban state. This was Thursday, the day before she would lead the Havana congregation of Beth Sholom in Kabbalat Shabbat and the next morning be called to the Torah as Bat Mitzvah.  Our 18-member delegation of Miami Beach Beth Sholom visitors are sitting with her in the mezzanine of the Hotel Parque Central.  There is the noise and bustle of a busy tourist lobby all around us. Preparations are being made to spruce the place up for the visit of the Pope in a few short weeks. And yet, our group is mesmerized by the sweet conviction of this young woman and the tears flowing down the cheeks of her grandmother.

Sancti Spiritus for many years had one Jewish family that was willing to identify as Jewish: Claudia’s.  Her grandmother kept things alive during the “difficult years” of the 60s, 70s and 80s. Today, the synagogue is located in Claudia’s home. There are 54 Jews who have come forward and are a part of the community. Her mother, aunt and uncle have gone to Israel with Birthright and March of the Living. It was her uncle, 26 years old, who taught her to read Torah.

Because the last decade has seen the easing of pressure on those who identify with religious traditions, Claudia has been raised in a Zionist, religious environment. She sings all the verses of “Yerushalayim Shel Zahav”  in Hebrew, effortlessly.

Claudia is one of the reasons our congregation sent a mission to Cuba. We want to support those Jews who are attempting to rebuild Jewish life in Cuba today. Claudia’s Bat Mitzvah, along with the many conversions we learned about and the Sunday School with over 150 students, the Youth Groups, the Israeli Dance troupes, the Adult Study groups, and the Senior Center activities all gave us hope and a feeling of joy.

We gave Claudia a set of candlesticks for Shabbat and a new tallit. We gathered around her and held a tallit over her head to bless her.

There are no rabbis or cantors or professionally-trained Jewish educators in Cuba today. As the only rabbi she would encounter for some time, I blessed her. We sang Shehecheyanu together. We wept again with her family.  Members of our group gave her sister and mother gifts to mark the occasion.  It was a true emotional highlight and climax to our trip.

However, the Hebrew words I quoted above from the Naomi Shemer song which Claudia sang remain with me as a troubling reminder of the complexity of the Cuban Jewish situation. My head is still uncertain. My heart remains with all 550 Jewish families in present-day Cuba who are struggling to build and be rebuilt by our tradition.

“For all these

The bitter and sweet

The honey and the thorn

Guard them, O God, please, for good

Do not uproot what has been planted

Do not forget the hope

Return me and I will return to the good land.”

For all that was and will be, but most of all for Claudia and what is, “do not forget the hope… guard them, O God, please, for good.”

Rabbi Glickstein: Elu V'Elu for March 2012

What a celebration! What a joyous evening!

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Honestly, there is a big part of our souls that does not understand or comprehend the enormous outpouring you generously shared with us.

We are humbled, and most of all, grateful.

Shortly before the event, an elderly acquaintance asked Joanie how we could celebrate during the 30 days, the shloshim, after our mother’s death. We both knew it was the right thing to do. We instinctively understood that our mother would want us to go forward. My dearly loved Grams died six weeks before our wedding, 43 years ago, and she made it clear we should celebrate as if she were there. Our mother had her ticket and was ready to be here with us.

An image in a blog from Rabbi Rex Perlmeter, former rabbi of Temple Israel, crystalized for us the idea of finding joy in the midst of pain and tears.

Our mother, Harriett Shirley Glickstein, died on January 18. The Mincha Bar Mitzvah service on the Shabbat after we got up from shiva included the reading of the Song of the Sea. That portion was sung the Shabbat of February 4 by Rabbi Perlmeter’s son Nate. Nate’s Bar Mitzvah took place the Shabbat after the first yahrzeit for Rabbi Perlmeter’s son, Mitch, who died suddenly while preparing to go to high school one morning. That Bar Mitzvah was filled with tears of sadness and joy. 

Rabbi Perlmeter writes, “After the service, a friend approached me, saying, ‘I didn’t say this during the discussion, but I want you to know the image that occurred to me. The Sea was the sea of tears which have already been or might today have been shed because of Mitch. Thanks to Nate, that sea of tears parted, and he led us all through on a dry ground of joy.’ Love and faith can do that. They can part the waters of our tears and help us find our way to redemptive life and hope. Nate did that for us on the very Shabbat when we might otherwise have felt only the sadness of the first yahrzeit. He reminded us, by example, that our mandate is to choose life.”

You, our congregational family, did that for us.

You helped us choose life and joy in the midst of tears and sorrow.

You lifted us up as we observed shiva and the shloshim.

We are forever grateful to all of you: those who worked so devotedly to make this evening happen; those who came and shared the night with us; those who donated to the Keren Dorim fund in our honor and in memory of our mother; those who sent letters, e-mail messages, cards; those who came to our home during shiva; those who called and those who spoke to us everywhere and anywhere.

Edgar Guest wrote a simple, heartfelt poem that expresses our feelings at this special time. He called his words “Gratitude.”

Be grateful for the kindly friends that walk along your way;

Be grateful for the skies of blue that smile from day to day;

Be grateful for the health you own, the work you find to do,

For round about you there are those less fortunate than you.

Be grateful for the growing trees, the roses soon to bloom,

The tenderness of kindly hearts that shared your days of gloom;

Be grateful for the morning dew, the grass beneath your feet,

The soft caresses of your babes and all their laughter sweet.

Acquire the grateful habit, learn to see how blessed you are,

How much there is to gladden life, how little life to mar!

But what if rain shall fall today and you with grief are sad

Be grateful that you can recall the joys that you have had.

We are so grateful for you, our Temple Beth Sholom congregation.

Our family has been lovingly embraced by you and by our entire community.

Thank you.

Todah Rabbah.

We walked in joy on dry land because of you.

Rabbi Gary and Joanie Glickstein

Rabbi Glickstein: Elu V'Elu for December 2011

A serious student of Talmud was building a house and asked his Rabbi for help. The Rabbi knew just the place to learn how to properly build a new house: the Talmud. Together they studied the words handed down through the ages and the student left to build. Months later, the student returned and told the Rabbi that everything went well until the student attempted to affix the mezuzah to the door. At the first hit of the hammer, the entire house shook and fell to the ground. The Rabbi looked back into the Talmud and found that Rashi had a comment on the text that they had missed the first time. After restudying the Talmudic passage with the Rashi comment, the student rebuilt his home. Again, at the mezuzah hanging, the house collapsed. “I don’t understand, Rabbi. Why does this keep happening?” The Rabbi looked into the Talmud once again and replied, “Aha, Tosephot asks the same question!”

You just have to trust me. It is funny to a rabbi.

Chanukah is the celebration of the rededication of the Second Temple in Jerusalem. After the Assyrian Greeks had desecrated the Holy Sanctuary, the Maccabees reconquered Jerusalem, cleaned and reconsecrated the Holy Space and celebrated for eight days and nights.

The First Temple was destroyed by the Babylonians and the Second Temple was burned to the ground by the Romans. After that time, our people built synagogues in many places and times ranging from simple one-room shuls to palatial multi-acre works of architectural grandeur.

Ultimately, each structure we created either was destroyed, transformed for another purpose or remains active for a Jewish community. Over time, most synagogue buildings will fall into one of these three categories.

Temple Beth Sholom remains active and thriving and now in possession of a brand new beautiful facility from our School building through our Welcome Center/Youth/Administration areas into our Holy Spaces, Beit Hannah and our Sanctuary, plus our elegant Social Hall and its associated areas.

This year, we will rededicate our Sanctuary through prayer and song during the Shabbat of Chanukah. We will affix the mezuzah on our newly-refurbished Sanctuary/Social Hall.

I assure you nothing will fall down when we perform the sacred ceremony on Shabanukah, December 23. I have read the Talmud, Rashi and the Tosephot carefully.

Our building is a metaphor for us as a community. Those Jewish buildings that are destroyed or used for other purposes represent communities that have been destroyed, moved away or are no longer a cohesive entity with enough members to remain a congregation.

Our facility is totally renewed because we are renewed as a congregation.

What began in 1942 as an idea is now flourishing as a reality. We continue to grow with a vibrant leadership, lay and professional, and a record of excellence and vision that drives us toward ever deeper, more varied programs and services.

Join us for Shabanukah.

Help us affix the mezuzah and formally rededicate our synagogue.

Light your Chanukiah at our dinner following Shabbat services.

Sing with full voice the familiar melodies we all love as well as exciting new songs,all to the sounds of a Salsa band.

Eat latkes and rejoice in the energy and synergy of this remarkable community.

As Temple Beth Sholom is the Shamash that rekindles the lights of its members daily throughout the year, be the Shamash that ignites many other souls who look to you for light and hope.

This is our Chanukah of Renewal. Together we will illumine the darkness of a world in search of light.

November 2011: Excerpts from Rabbi Glickstein’s Yom Kippur morning sermon

From what I hear and read, there are two Israels for Jews and Zionists.

This year a controversy erupted in Jewish newspapers and periodicals when Daniel Gordis remarked that young rabbis were growing distant from Israel and were in fact not supportive of the Jewish state.

One of the responses was by the Jewish Theological Seminary in New York, the center of rabbinic studies for the Conservative Movement. They immediately commissioned Steven M. Cohen, a prominent sociologist of American Jewish life to conduct a study.

The study concluded that these rabbis are no less committed to Israel than the older rabbis. Young and old rabbis in largely similar percentages consider aliya as a possibility, report that they “feel Zionist”, and label themselves pro-Israel.

However, the younger colleagues are more concerned about Israel’s societal challenges and problems and less concerned with external threats, ”issues of the body,” than those of the older vintage.

This seems to be the case in the general Jewish world as well.

Younger Jews are less concerned with the security issues and more concerned with what I will call “soul of Israel” issues.

As for the rabbis, the study found that 79% of older rabbis put the blame for the lack of peace on the Palestinians while only 44% of the young rabbis blamed the Arabs.

Politically in the U.S., 80% of my age group support AIPAC to only 42% of the young ones. When dealing with the left-center J Street, the numbers are reversed.

Everything is how you look at it; what you understand to be the highest value or most pressing issue….

My younger rabbinic colleagues and many younger lovers of Israel share a great deal with those of us who are of the senior generation.

We both are concerned about the soul of Israel.

Many of my children’s generation have only known an Israel with a powerful and dominant military.

They were babies during the first Lebanon war and children during the first Intifada.

They have no more memory of the terror that gripped the Jewish world in May 1967, let alone the betrayal of the U.S. and the U.N. in 1956 and 1967 than I have of December 7, 1941.

The shock of Yom Kippur 1973 and the vulnerability we witnessed plays a very small role in their thinking.

It looms large among my concerns…..

For many of them the checkpoints, settlements, the Security Fence/Wall and the last war in Gaza define Israel.

They focus more on the treatment of Israeli Arabs and Bedouin than on the amazing absorption of millions of Jews from all over the world.

Their emphasis is on the lack of religious freedom for non-Orthodox Jews rather than on the open and supportive policies for all Muslim and Christian holy places.

They zero in on the areas of Israel’s soul which need mending.

I understand this concern, but I worry much more about Israel’s enemies. They are real and relentless. They are found not just among Palestinians and other Arab peoples, but here in the United States and also among our Jewish People…..

I trust Israel’s soul will grow over time.

I support organizations that work on the interior values of the Jewish State.

I believe the New Israel Fund and NCJW’s efforts are important to empower Israel’s weaker populations and allow them to change the system from within.

I donate to ARZA, IRAC and ICCI, all of which attempt to make important changes in Israel’s legal, legislative and interfaith communities.

I focus more, however, on Congress, our Administration and our State leaders through the work of AIPAC, Israel Bonds, NACPAC and Federation.

I do this because I believe that first must come security and the soul will follow….

I am an optimist about Israel’s soul.

I am a pessimist about Israel’s security.

I understand those who feel the opposite.

I respectfully disagree with their assessment. I particularly disagree with those of this opinion who live and work outside of Israel; whose children sit in safety thousands of miles from missiles and rockets; whose boys and girls will never put on a uniform and risk their lives to defend their homeland.

I understand, but I disagree, strongly…..

So, you decide.

Pro-soul or pro-security.

Where on that spectrum do you fall?

If you find yourself supporting those who would boycott, divest, delegitimize or even deny Israel the right to be a Jewish State, you and I have a big problem. In fact, we have nothing to talk about.

I won’t minimize my passion for Israel and her people.

As long as you find yourself as a lover of Israel and committed to seeing her flourish and grow in peace and equality, we can get along very well.

I am with you.

And I will be with you in Israel April 22 when we go on the Miami Mega Mission.

See Israel up close and personal.

Then decide: Soul or Security or both.

But come.

And remember, if you want to bring your children and are looking for an encounter and a vacation in the summer, we have two wonderful opportunities to travel to Israel with us.

And for now, invest in her.

Her economy deserves your confidence.

You deserve a secure investment that will not lose money.

Invest in her soul, her security, her Jewish existence.

Connect with her.

Bond with Israel.

(This and all other High Holy Day sermons will be on the web site: www.tbsmb.org )

To buy Israel Bonds, click on the following link: http://www.israelbonds.com/Learn/Sales-Offices.aspx

To register for the Mega Mission go to: http://jewishmiami.org/news/federation/megamission_trip_of_lifetime/

To inquire about our Temple summer trip to Israel with families contact Cantor Haas at cantorhaas@tbsmb.org or ext. 239.

Rabbi Glickstein: Sh’ma Yisrael: Our Listening Project

I love to listen to classic rock and roll and country western music.  I find a great deal of truth in the lyrics to many of the songs that I find missing in other musical genres.

The latest release from Darius Rucker, formerly of Hootie and the Blowfish, is called “This.”

“All the fights and the tears and the heartache I thought I'd never get through; and the moment I almost gave up all led me here to you.  I didn't understand it way back when, but sitting here right now, it all makes perfect sense.  For every stoplight I didn't make, every chance I did or I didn't take, all the nights I went too far, all the girls that broke my heart, all the doors that I had to close, all the things I knew but I didn't know. Thank God for all I missed, ‘cause it led me here to this.”

The High Holy Days draw me back in my memory.  I think about turning points, small and large choices I made, hopes dashed, jobs lost, heartbreaks, dreams altered that led me here to this blessed and incredible life I live.

This year I have been contemplating the path that led our congregation to this moment of Rosh Hashanah, 5772, the 70^th year of our existence.  I have examined wrong decisions that turned out to be right; the desperate situations that led us to strength; the detours that led us to affirm more strongly our mission.

There is an old Yiddish joke (is there any other kind?):

A Jewish woman, dressed in style, boarded a train in St. Louis for Chicago.  A man sporting a dark, curly beard sat down in the seat next to her wearing a black hat, long black coat, black slacks and black shoes.  The woman looked at the man disgustedly.  “Jews like you give the rest of us a bad name.”  The man calmly replied, “I beg your pardon, Madam, but I am Amish, not Jewish.”  The woman looked back and smiled.  “How nice that you've kept your traditions.”

That joke was funnier in the original.  Yes, at Temple Beth Sholom we have kept many of our traditions and yes, we have changed much.  And yes, we have reshaped and renewed our facility, our programs, our staff, our leadership.  And yes, we have learned from mistakes and we make better choices today because of our sadder-but-wiser moments.

In our Shabbat morning Torah study, Victor Weithorn asked why the term “temple” is used, since it originally referred to The Temple in Jerusalem (sacrifices of animals, priests, special uniforms, one location only, strict laws governing each ritual, etc.).  I looked up the origin of the word and found that dictionaries differ as to its origin.  When I grew up, “temple” referred to Reform congregations, “synagogue” was mostly used by the Conservative movement and “shul” always indicated an Orthodox house of worship.  Today, we use the terms interchangeably.  Here on Miami Beach, we have Temple Moses (Orthodox) and Conservative Temple Emanu-El.  Present usage of these labels reflects the fact that most Jews today are not tied to specific religious movements as they were in the past.   We are Beth Sholom and not Bet Shalom because we were named before the founding of the State of Israel and our founders were Ashkenazim from Eastern Europe, who pronounced the Hebrew with the Yiddish inflections of their regions of origin.

So we are still Beth Sholom and still a Temple.  But we barely resemble the congregation Rabbi Kronish and the few families of our early days established.  Today we are young, vibrant and secure.  We are forward thinking while still carrying the values established 70 years ago:  open seating for all; supportive of youth; Progressive and Zionist; Liberal Reform with a healthy embracing of tradition; open to all who would find a Jewish home, regardless of financial wherewithal, ethnic, cultural, national or racial background, single, married or partnered.

All our past history led us to this.  And now we begin the next era.  Together we will design the Temple Beth Sholom of the future.  This High Holy Days we launch Sh’ma Yisrael:  Our Listening Project. 

Over the next two years, our clergy will meet with each member of our congregation who is willing to personally share ideas, needs, and desires.  Out of this dialogue on a Congregation-wide scale, out of our intimate and honest discussions to be held at homes, restaurants, offices, or parks, we will shape an ever stronger, more responsive and dynamic congregation.

I do not know what the future will look like. “I am not a prophet nor the son of a prophet," but by Rosh HaShanah 5774, two years from this New Year, we will be able to sing with commitment about the results of Sh’ma Yisrael:  Our Listening Project:

“Thank God for all I missed, ‘cause it led me here to this.”

Shana Tova U’Metuka – For a blessed, sweet New Year filled with conversations and growth.

Rabbi Glickstein: Elu V'Elu for May-June-July 2011

Perhaps my favorite Rabbi Jolt story, which I have told many times, involves three friends who are all rabbis.

They are at a National Rabbinic Conference of Israel Bonds meeting in Los Angeles. They have a break from the discussions and take a walk down Hollywood Blvd.

One rabbi exclaims, "Look at that beautiful blonde woman with that homely man."

The second rabbi says, "Don't you know who that is? That woman is Marilyn Monroe. She converted to Judaism and married that homely man, the author Arthur Miller."

The first rabbi laughs, "That marriage won't last one year."

The third rabbi gazing off in the distance says, "I should have such a year."

This year, for me, was such a year.

I experienced depressing lows followed by highs of soaring intensity.

I do not remember a year of more stress and intensity, anxiety and joy.

However, Spring is here and with it Pesach and soon Shavuot.

My heart has sensed the beginnings of the Passover cleansing and the renewal to follow in seven weeks.

Gratitude fills me to overflowing.

After sitting with so many of our congregants whose pain I tried to share and whose burden I attempted to ease; after family members struggled with crises that were unexpected and surprising; after change that shakes the flow of continuity and security, I embrace thanksgiving and joy.

To relax, I play piano and often sing.

I have sheet music that runs the gamut from Broadway to Beatles, Country to Classical, Oldies to very Oldies. One song that always hits my emotion button was written by a Jewish immigrant during the Great Depression. Irving Berlin wrote Count Your Blessings Instead of Sheep to help those suffering the indignations, depravities and disappointments of that time. He looked inside himself and he wrote the following:

When I'm worried and I can't sleep

I count my blessings instead of sheep

And I fall asleep

Counting my blessings

When my bankroll is getting small

I think of when I had none at all

And I fall asleep

Counting my blessings

I think about a nursery and I picture curly heads

And one by one I count them as they slumber in their beds

If you're worried and you can't sleep

Just count your blessings instead of sheep

And you'll fall asleep

Counting your blessings

Those words describe my soul at this time of this year. I find myself remembering past challenges, stresses and crises and that brings me to recognizing gratitude for my life and my blessings.

I wish you such a year.

May you be blessed and count those blessings.

Rabbi Glickstein: Spring Trumps Winter: A Riff on Blood and Pesach - April 2011

The week of Purim, I attended a Brit Milah ceremony.  As I named the young man and held him in my arms, I could not help but remember last year when I officiated at the funeral of his twin siblings.

Here, swaddled and beautiful, was this living child receiving the blessings of his parents, brothers, and grandparents, all of whom bitterly wept with me at the sight of the tiny coffins last year.

“B’Damayich Chayi” are words we say twice at a Brit Milah. 

“By your bloods shall you live.”

The twins died of blood-related causes.

“By your bloods shall you live.”

I remain captivated by the irony and truth of those words.

“Bloods” in the plural, spoken twice.

Which bloods?

On Pesach we ask, “Why is this night different from all other nights?”

We answer, “Matzah and Bitter Herbs and even Reclining.”

But the third question gives no answer anywhere in the Haggadah.

“On all other nights we do not dip even once. Why on this night do we dip twice?”

The question is not which dippings count for the two times-Carpas, Haroset, Egg, Hands-but why we dip twice.

I argue that the first dipping is for Joseph.

His coat was dipped into the blood of the goat to camouflage his sale into slavery by his brothers.

I argue that the second dipping is for the blood-dipped hyssop with which we marked our doorposts and lintels on the first night of liberation.

So much bloodshed.

My mother, whose blood was taken out of her body and sent through a machine this past year while a surgeon built her a new aortic valve, has lived through the era of the largest shedding of blood in all of history:

Stalin

Hitler

Mao

Hirohito

Mussolini

The Killing Fields

Hiroshima

Darfur

etc.,etc.,etc.

By her blood, now flowing through her own veins and arteries and valves again, she lives.

And we Jews live —

By our doorposts without blood but with the word of God on mezuzah scrolls.

Living in freedom —

the blood of freedom hard won by countless lives given and blood spilt.

Freedom is not free.

Its price is often blood.

Why is this night different from all other nights?

Because tonight we dip twice.

Once in remembrance of the blood of slavery and betrayal and death; once in rejoicing for the blood spread for freedom.

We dip twice to remember the cost of both.

I hold this precious child asleep in my arms and I recall the night Pharoah held his first-born child, dead, in his arms.

And I remember the next day when we sang a song of thanksgiving, marching arm in arm into the desert.

We reduce our cup of joy in the memory of the first-born of Egypt along with the millions like them.

Drops of wine at a seder; drops of wine at a Brit Milah; drops of blood and memory.

A cup diminished.

A cup refilled.

To life.

To the bloods of our lives.

“By our bloods shall we live.”

Chag Sameach.