From the Rabbi

Rabbi Robert L. Wolkoff

Previous Messages

“The Wisdom of the Siddur”

Moving from confusion to order is a sign of maturity and responsibility. It is also the price of freedom. We give up our random, spontaneous, aimlessness existence for a purposeful and well-organized life. The Siddur is the Jewish organizer. It accompanies us closely from the minute we awake to the minute we fall asleep, throughout all the seasons of our lives. The siddur offers us the wisdom to cope with any situation, simple or overwhelming.

The first secret to organization is to compartmentalize. The Siddur does it well for us. It recognizes that the calendar is the wheel that turns the world, picking up the natural rhythm of creation and dividing our schedule accordingly. The day is divided to 3, the week is divided to 7, the year is divided to 4.

The siddur is designed to remind us to be always mindful — of God and of our fellow humans. It is the assistant we all need in our busy schedules. When we are organized, we can react better to life’s curvatures. The Siddur prepares us for each spiritual and physical activity, recognizing our needs and helping us gather our thoughts. Ultimately, good organization can lead to a peaceful existence — personally and nationally. A just organization and division of resources is the basis for peace in the world.

May we have a blessed month.

—Rabbi Gadi

A New Workshop:

How to be better organized according to the Jewish prayer book.

When I return from the annual pilgrimage to Israel, we will resume weekly classes, beginning Thursday, March 7, from 4 to 5:30 p.m. The new series will be dedicated to learning about the Siddur. In this workshop, we will delve into the structure and philosophy of the Siddur, and explore how it can help each person organize his or her life.

Please join us for spiritual insights and lively discussion.

—RG

“Bingeing the Bible”

With the passing of President George H. W. Bush, another chapter in American history has been signed. He was my first American president. I had just graduated from high school in Israel and was waiting for my army service when Iraq invaded Kuwait and instigated the First Gulf War. Soon after, scud missiles were starting to land in the middle of Israel. It was a tough time — having to run for shelter in sealed rooms, wearing gas masks. My brother and sister were still serving in the IDF (Israeli Defense Force), and my father was recruited for reserve duty. I joined a few days before the war officially ended.

For political reasons, the coalition’s armed forces, headed by the United States and its commander in chief, President Bush, asked Israel to avoid retaliation and let the coalition wage the battle. After six weeks of active battle, the war was over. For me, President Bush was a determined soldier, fighting tyrannical regimes wherever they were, representing core American values. May his memory be for a blessing.

Lately, I’ve been “bingeing the Bible,” as I like to call it; I’m reading the Bible cover to cover, not waiting for the weekly episode. It becomes obvious that the beginning and end of the Biblical books, is determined by the life and death of the protagonist king, prophet, or leader, irrespective of the way they die. This idea starts with the Book of Genesis — which we just completed reading in synagogue, that ends with the death of Jacob and Joseph. The Torah ends with the death of Moses, the Book of Joshua ends with the death of Joshua, giving room to the first judge to come on stage. 1 Samuel ends with the death of King Saul, while 2 Samuel begins and ends with King David. Things have to die before other things can begin. A new era beginning with a new leader.

The other feature that comes clear when reading the Bible straight through is the fact that stories are not always told in a chronological order. Many times stories moves forward and backward at the same time. The people who are dead, come back to live. Departing and then reuniting with the characters. But reading about them or telling their stories gives them their immortality. So even if they are gone, they are still circling around us. Maybe the person that knows it best is the Prophet Elisha, who saw his master, the Prophet Elijah, storm alive with a chariot into heaven.

Elisha gained a perspective which allows him to see beyond and notice the heavenly beings around us. When he is engulfed by the King of Aram with mighty chariots and a great host, he does not despair. When his servant was crying out: “Alas, my master! what shall we do?” He answered: “Fear not: for they that are with us are more than they that are with them… And the Lord opened the eyes of the young man; and he saw; and, behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire round about Elisha.” (2 Kings 6:14-17) Elisha sees what we don’t see. Those who departed, are now the army around us that protects us.

We never know what a new leader would be like and what new era they will usher. All we can do is keep “seeing” our past and future leaders and know that their successes as well as their failures are always live in our ongoing story. Unfortunately (or fortunately) we can’t binge life, or accelerate it forward and backward. We have to live one day at a time, one episode at a time.

Happy New Era!

—Rabbi Gadi Capela

“Blended Jewish”

Over the last weekend, I attended my good friend Angela’s wedding in Chicago. Angela married Jason, and since they are both members of Mensa, they were permitted to wed at the Newberry Library downtown. The 12-foot chuppah was placed in the middle of the museum lobby — pure white sashes flowing down from all four corners, like the four rivers in Eden. The bride descended the widening staircase to the affecting sounds of a piano. The queen of the day was joining her beloved — a Jewish man and a Jewish woman standing under the canopy of God to become one flesh.

This beautiful picture was a result of a mixed background, reflected by the mixed audience witnessing the event. In fact, most of the guests were not Jewish. Both Angela and Jason are Jews by choice. Angela converted 10 years ago; Jason completed his conversion only the day before the wedding. For both of them, this is a second chapter.

Angela has a daughter, who is half Indian with a skin tone much darker than her mother’s, whose German/Swedish background is apparent by her light coloring. She followed in her mother’s footsteps and converted to Judaism in her late teens, five years ago. She, like her mother, is a regular shul goer and loves Israel. Jason comes from an Italian background; his son is Jewish by birth, on his mother’s side. It is a beautiful picture of blended Jewish.

It has always been the case: The Jewish story from its genesis is a story of blending. Coincidentally, the weekly portion on that Shabbat was Parashat Vayetze, which describes exactly that. The Jewish family of our forefather Jacob was a blended one of Leah and Rachel. And, of course, a blended family presents many challenges, but the Torah tells us that it is simply the reality of life. Even when the Israelites, as a nation, leave Egypt, they are accompanied by the famous Erev Rav — a blend of multitude from the other nations.

But what if Rachel and Leah are the same woman? What if the message is simply an exercise in acceptance — accepting the two sides in ourselves? The external separation is simply a manifestation of an internal and permanent split. Maybe this is what our forefathers refused to accept, such as the minim — the types — any irregular blend. What if it’s time to accept the minim — all types? We are all minim, a type of blending. We have to accept the Leah, the tired,” with the Rachel, the freshly born lamb. We have to accept that our story begins with a blend in the Erev. Just as we begin our Shabbat in the eve — the erev — let’s learn how to come together like a braded challah for Shabbat, and have a meal around the table with our blended Jewish family.

Happy holiday season.