From the Rabbi
Rabbi Robert L. Wolkoff
Previous Messages
“Seeing it Coming”
Dear members and friends,
As we experience the season of winter and snow and drift into occasional hibernation, let’s hope it won’t be too challenging this year. It is interesting that at this same time of hibernation, Jews are celebrating Tu Bishvat, the “birthday” of trees. Of all possible seasons, our tradition chooses to celebrate the regeneration of life in nature when it seems to be moribund. But that’s the beauty of it, according to the Zohar, the main book of Kaballah (in Vayishlach), which says that winter is the time when we can learn about the ultimate resurrection of the dead. In winter, the trees lose their leaves and look lifeless, but then, what seems to be dry wood flowers again.
Along with millions of others, I was saddened to hear about the recent passing of David Bowie, who has contributed many of the soundtracks of our lives for many years. When I lived in New York, every morning on my way to the subway, I would pass by the Essex House, where he lived. Sometimes I would see him standing alone, unassuming, perhaps waiting for a driver. I never thought about it too much until now, when his death juxtaposes with the Torah readings about Pharaoh and his stubbornness. What is the connection? Let me explain.
Pharaoh represents extreme denial; he does not think he is subject to the same rules of mortality as everyone else and, as a result, he cannot see that the end is coming. With every plague God thrusts upon Egypt, Pharaoh’s courtiers advise him to face reality, to admit he is not invincible. God wanted the Biblical Pharaoh, or any other “Pharaohs” living among us, to show humility, to face our humanity and our mortality. Pharaoh’s persistent refusal to admit to forces greater than himself brought about his and Egypt’s ultimate demise.
Getting back to the late Mr. Bowie, it seems he was well aware of his humanity and his mortality. The lyrics and video of “Lazarus” and other songs in his last album, Blackstar, seem to be self-eulogizing, his way of admitting and dealing with his looming death. (Lazarus of Bethany is the man Jesus brought back to life four days after he died. Jesus refers to Lazarus as “asleep,” saying he would be waking up.) Unlike Pharaoh, Bowie recognized the end of his life and prepared for it spiritually, believing in life after death, just as the trees wake up after winter. Perhaps this makes it easier for us to deal with our own mortality. We have to learn to see it coming.
Happy Tu Bishvat and rejuvenating hibernation,
—Rabbi Gadi Capela
“Reconciliation”
Dear members and friends,
Rabbi Gadi kindles the Hanukkah candles at the 10th anniversary celebration of Project Genesis.
Even though I’m writing this message on the shortest day of the year, it doesn’t feel dark. Perhaps the reason is the presence of many lights, both physical and spiritual. As the lights of Hanukkah slowly disappeared, the lights of Christmas on many houses and in yards began to glow.
On Saturday night, Dec. 12, we celebrated Project Genesis’ 10th anniversary with an event called “Between the Lights.” Project Genesis is a Jewish-Christian monthly learning program I have been teaching with Christian clergy, where both faiths are invited to learn about the common roots of their beliefs and heritage, building bridges between the two communities. We were happily surprised to discover that on the very same week the Catholic Church released a long document, confirming its Nostra Aetate (in our time) — the document that ushered in a profound and positive change within the church toward Judaism 50 years ago, in the aftermath of the Holocaust.
The Vatican’s Commission For Religious Relations With The Jews’ document included the following paragraph: “Another important goal of Jewish-Catholic dialogue consists of jointly combatting all manifestations of ethnic discrimination against Jews and all forms of anti-Semitism. History teaches us where even the slightest perceptible form of anti-Semitism can lead: the human tragedy of the Shoah in which two-thirds of European Jewry was annihilated. Both faith traditions are called upon to maintain an unceasing vigilance and sensitivity in the social sphere as well.”
In response, a few dozen Orthodox rabbis wrote a document affirming Judaism’s connection to Christianity. Their letter states: “After nearly two millennia of mutual hostility and alienation, we Orthodox rabbis who lead communities, institutions and seminaries in Israel, the United States and Europe, recognize the historic opportunity now before us. We seek to do the will of our Father in Heaven by accepting the hand offered to us by our Christian brothers and sisters. Jews and Christians must work together as partners to address the moral challenges of our era.
The Dec. 12 event, held in the auditorium at Peconic Landing, was well attended by regulars and guests.(Photos by Steve Benthal)
“The Shoah ended 70 years ago. It was the warped climax to centuries of disrespect, oppression and rejection of Jews and the consequent enmity that developed between Jews and Christians. In retrospect, it is clear that the failure to break through this contempt and engage in constructive dialogue for the good of humankind weakened resistance to the evil forces of anti-Semitism that engulfed the world in murder and genocide… As did Maimonides and Yehudah Halevi, we acknowledge that Christianity is neither an accident nor an error, but the willed divine outcome and gift to the nations. In separating Judaism and Christianity, G-d willed a separation between partners with significant theological differences, not a separation between enemies…”
Now that the Catholic Church has acknowledged the eternal covenant between G-d and Israel, we Jews can acknowledge the ongoing constructive validity of Christianity as our partner in world redemption, without any fear that this will be exploited for missionary purposes. As stated by the Chief Rabbinate of Israel’s Bilateral Commission with the Holy See under the leadership of Rabbi Shear Yashuv Cohen, “We are no longer enemies, but unequivocal partners in articulating the essential moral values for the survival and welfare of humanity… Neither of us can achieve G-d’s mission in this world alone.”
This idea of reconciliation corresponds to our Shabbat Torah reading — “Vayigash” (approached). The reunion of Joseph and his brothers in Egypt begins when Judah approaches the Egyptian vizier, not knowing it is actually his brother Joseph, whom he had arranged to be cast out of the family more than 20 years earlier. Judah confesses his responsibility to the vizier (Joseph), who is so moved by the honesty and sincerity of Judah’s emotional plea for the release of his brother Benjamin that he cannot stay indifferent. Joseph reveals himself to his brothers and allows them to approach him further, until they are close enough to kiss and cry. For the first time in more than two decades, they speak to each other.
Like Joseph and his brothers, the Catholic Church and the Jewish people have taken steps to reconcile with one side approaching the other. Rabbi Cohen reminds us that we, too, have a responsibility to supplement the light in the world through other means, and to partner with others to help God in the project of creation.
May January be the door to ultimate reconciliation and peace for all. Happy 2016.
—Rabbi Gadi Capela
Links to the statements by the Catholic Church and the Orthodox rabbis:
http://www.news.va/en/news/vatican-issues-new-document-on-christian-jewish-di
http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/orthodox-rabbinic-statement-on-christianity/
“Silence”
Dear members and friends,
Like many people these days, I am surrounded by various technological devices and screens that help with many aspects of our lives. Of course, they also compete for our attention, and if we’re not careful, they can distract us, sometimes to a point at which we’re never silent. The Mishna (Avot 1:17) quotes Rabban Gamliel’s son, Shimon, who said: “All my life I have been raised among the wise, and I have found nothing better for the body than silence.” Also, in the Gemara (Berachot 17a): Mar, the son of Rabina, on concluding his prayer added the following, which we say to this day: “My God, keep my tongue from evil and my lips from speaking guile. May my soul be silent to them that curse me and may my soul be as the dust to all.”
It’s true that Shabbat supposes to give us that break we need, but do we take enough advantage of it? This year, I decided to participate in an ecumenical silent retreat in the mountains of Colorado, at St. Benedict’s Monastery in Snowmass. After four days, 2,100 miles in the car, a hurricane, and a snow blizzard, I arrived on Friday, Nov. 13. After a short introduction, we entered the “grand silence.” For the next eight days there was no speaking or eye contact with the other participants until the following Friday. Like Dorothy and her friends, I traveled far to see the Wizard, which is really our inner voice.
Going to the mountains where there is no cellular reception, where all the screens that normally surround us now lay lifeless, and where there is no human to talk to, we are forced to face ourselves and channel a conversation with God. We can finally hear and recognize the voices we don’t normally hear. At once, silence becomes the conversation.
It makes sense. God, who created the world with words and gave humanity its unique ability of speech, wants us to learn how to use words and use them wisely. After all, another wise proverb tells us that if a word spoken in the right time is worth a coin, silence in the right time is worth two. Surely, we can all improve our skills in this area. Silence challenges us to let go of the constant need to know and to be in control. Silence is an opportunity to practice the notion that ultimately we are not in total control.
Just before entering the “grand silence,” we learned about the massacres in Paris, but for a week, we had no way to follow the story. I was torn. Is finding a way to listen to the news more important than listening to silence? My conclusion was that it’s essential to take these breaks and to be silent. Sometime it’s the only way to process in our minds this kind of barbarism. It’s important to be silent and to free ourselves from distractions, so we can think, so we can act. Sometimes we need to be silent to let our actions speak louder.
May God bless us with peace soon in our days and everlasting thanksgiving,
—Rabbi Gadi Capela
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