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Category: soul

Overturning DOMA and the blessing of being seen

This morning I waited until the Supreme Court convened before posting here. Elation is the feeling that many of us whose marriages have not previously been recognized federally are feeling this morning. And for those in California, marriage equality can, at last, be celebrated. For sure, the work is not yet complete – 40 states continue to discriminate against their citizens. But there is no question that progress was made in civil rights and civil law today.

There is so much that could be said this morning. But for me, the blessing that I am recognizing this morning is the blessing of being seen. It is a blessing that each and every one of us, irrespective of sexuality or any other aspect of our identity, can bestow on others, understanding the incredibly powerful impact of receiving that blessing ourselves. It lies behind the central principle of all world religions, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’

Each time I have filed my taxes separately from my spouse, each time I had to apply for the next round of immigration on my journey from rabbinic student to permanent resident and the love of my life was invisible … these were moments when an essential part of my self and my life was unseen. Standing in line to come through security on our way back from a trip and watching the married couple in front of us being processed together and then having a TSA agent insist that my wife and I be processed individually was a moment of humiliation that highlighted how something that is so precious to us is treated as unseen by others. And for anyone who has ever had the experience of being denied access to their loved one’s side in a hospital room, the experience of being unseen is excruciatingly painful.

As Jews, every Passover we announce how we will tell the story as if we, ourselves, personally experienced the Exodus from Egypt; we are called upon to get in touch with the experience and feelings of the journey from having lived a restricted life to entering a new world of freedom. Over and over we are reminded in the Torah to remember that we were once slaves in Egypt as we engage with others that we encounter. Our own experiences of being unseen can sensitize us to the ways in which others often go unseen too: the individual who is sitting alone in the synagogue sanctuary, the child who can’t learn in the same way as others but deserves the blessing of a bar or bat mitzvah and a meaningful Jewish life just the same, the homeless person on the street that we can always greet even when we can’t give, the person sitting in a wheelchair who would like you to look at them and speak to them directly when you are serving them in a store, the cashier in the supermarket who isn’t just another piece of the check-out machinery…

The experience of being fully seen is a holy experience. The philosopher, Martin Buber, might call it an ‘I-Thou’ moment. We often hold back from fully revealing ourselves at the deepest, soul level that truly represents who we are because we are afraid that our gift may be rejected. When another person responds in a way that makes us feel invisible, the pain that results is something that most of us, at some point in time, has experienced. But the blessing that comes with revealing our full essence and being received fully by another human being is a truly spiritual experience that brings wholeness not only to individual lives, but to communities and societies too.

For thousands of gay and lesbian married couples, today is a day when we can celebrate the blessing of being seen. May it propel each one of us to do our part to spread that blessing to all.

#BlogElul week 2: Sharing Inspirational postings

This past Shabbat, reflecting upon the arrival of Elul with my congregation, I mentioned that I would use my own blog to share some of the other contributions to #BlogElul that have been inspiring me.  First, a brief excerpt from my sermon, where I offered some thoughts on what this month of preparation is all about.  After all, the 10 days from Rosh Hashanah to Yom Kippur feel intense enough to many of us… what purpose does thinking about this entire month as ‘preparation’ time serve?

Rabbi Alan Lew, z’l, wrote a book, ‘This is Real and You are CompletelyUnprepared’.  He’s talking about our souls.  We may think we are prepared – prepared for work, for the week ahead, for the weekend.  We may prepare ourselves for life by studying hard, learning a trade, earning a living, participating in family life or community life.  But soul preparation is a different thing.
  • We know that we’ve prepared our souls when we have something to fall back upon in a moments of crisis.
  • We know that we’ve prepared our souls when the words that come out of our mouths in the heat of the moment are the same as the ones we would say if we had time to reflect first.
  • We know that we’ve prepared our souls when we are able to articulate what we believe and why.
  • We know that we’ve prepared our souls when we can make ‘big talk’ and not just ‘small talk’ in our interactions with other people.
  • We know that we’ve prepared our souls when we’ve made choices about how we structure our day such that we have space for something that nourishes the spirit – taking a walk, a swim, meditating, yoga, quiet reading time…
  • We know that we’ve prepared our souls when we can find the spark of holiness in the midst of the messiness of everyday life.
  • We know that we’ve prepared our souls when we feel a sense of inner peace and wholeness.  If this day were to be our last (the big question that, with courage, is the question to explore on Yom Kippur), could we find that place of inner peace?

I don’t think that there is anyone in this room, myself included, who can answer ‘yes’ to most of those questions.  Spiritual preparedness takes practice.


I sang an excerpt from Psalm 27, traditionally recited during this month.  The Institute for Jewish Spirituality shared a beautiful, interpretative rendition to this psalm written by Rabbi Sheila Peltz Weinberg.  You can find, at along with several other wonderful sources to guide spiritual practice and introspection this month here.
There have been many wonderful contributions to the #BlogElul project this past week.  If you are not a twitter user and haven’t been keeping track of multiple blogs, it can be hard to track them all down.  Here are just a few of my favorites as a sample to introduce you to the writings of some of the other contributors.
The Musings of Rabbi Eric Linder (one of my fellow graduates from HUC-NY, 2006!)

Kol Isha: Reform women rabbis speak out! – a wonderful, new blog, featuring a different woman rabbi each day – many have been posting on #BlogElul themes.

A Good Question – the blog of Rabbi Yair Robinson

#BlogElul via the movies – a novel window to look at some Elul themes, from Rabbi Mark Kaiserman
I hope you find some of these intriguing and inspiring.
Below is a review of the themes of each day of the month (we’re up to day 10!).  If you don’t have a blog of your own, but would like to have a go at writing a reflection on one of the day’s themes, email it to me and I’ll post yours here on this blog in the coming days.

Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

#BlogElul 2: Soul Trait Inventories

http://www.superiorwarehousing.com/images/inventory-picture.jpg

In the last few years, the Jewish spiritual practice of Musar has made something of a resurgence among  Jews from many different walks of life.  Perhaps Alan Morinis can be most identified with making what was once primarily under the purview of observant, Jewish males into something accessible that speaks to a much wider audience.  But others, such as Ira Stone, also have written extensively on Musar and, similarly to Morinis, offer online courses and communities of practice for those who wish to engage more deeply.

The link above provides a more detailed explanation of the history and practice of Musar.  But one key element is the identification of separate (although often inter-dependent) character traits that one can examine over time, through study with others, and with self-observation and journaling as one takes a designated period of time (usually at least a month) to become aware of how this particular characteristic reveals itself in your own life.  You might be looking at the trait of judgment.  Or trust.  Or, perhaps, compassion.

In Musar, there is a recognition that there is not one right way to exercise each of these traits.  The practice is one of paying attention to how it manifests in your own life now in comparison to how you might believe it should manifest if you were able to raise your spiritual life to a higher level.  As part of the practice, one of the most important elements of one’s self-awareness is to recognize the ‘Bechirah’ – the choosing points when examining how a particular trait exhibits itself in your life.

So, for example, there may be many kinds of interactions where I feel good about my ability to be non-judgmental.  But that is not where I need to do my deepest spiritual work.  It is the kinds of interactions where I hear the judgmental voice in me rising sharply… if I can notice what specifically flips that switch in me, I can then begin to really examine and understand where my judgment comes from.  The goal is not to arrive at a completely relativist world where I never judge anyone or anything.  But perhaps I realize that I can sometimes be harsh.  Or sometimes I rule out people or options too quickly when they deserved deeper consideration.  And so, over time, I can choose to work on rebalancing this particular soul trait in my own life.  And how that looks for me, may be different to how it looks to you.  You may be someone who seldom judges.  And this may manifest in ways that sometimes has people taking advantage of you and manipulating you.  Your soul trait work on this trait may see you rebalancing in a different direction, and becoming a little more judgmental in certain contexts.

When we talk of Elul as a month to take stock, to turn, to reflect…. its not just about counting up ‘sins’ and telling ourselves that we’ll try and do better next year.  There are many spiritual practices and tools that we can draw upon from the well of Jewish wisdom.  They can guide us in a deeper way so that, when we return to Rosh Hashanah a year from now, we may notice that we’ve not just circled a year, but that we’ve spiraled a year, and we’ve ended up a little higher along the path than the year before.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

What happens next? Reflections on Steve Jobs’ last words

In the last few days, many people have been talking about the eulogy that Mona Simpson, Steve Jobs’ sister, gave at his funeral. More specifically, her sharing of his last words:

The Huffington Post reported: In a stirring eulogy delivered at Jobs’ memorial, held at Standford University’s Memorial Church on October 16, Simpson revealed the last words Jobs uttered mere hours before he died. Her tribute to her brother was reprinted by the New York Times on October 30. According to the Times’ printed version, Simpson said Jobs had been looking at the members of his family, gathered around his bed, when he gazed past them and said,” OH WOW. OH WOW. OH WOW.”

Much has been said by media pundits, blogged, and talked about in homes, over coffee and around water coolers, about what those last words might have meant. I’m not going to provide ‘the answer’, or even ‘a Jewish answer’. We simply don’t know. Way back in the Talmud (compilation of Rabbinic writings from approx. 0-500 CE), Rabbi Joshua ben Chanania said, ‘When they come to life again, we will consult about the matter.’ (Niddah 70b). Of course, this in itself might be understand as the declaration of a particular belief – that one day the dead will rise again. But this quote came to mind because, in effect, ben Chanania is also saying that we simply aren’t able to say with any certainty what happens after we die and until someone comes back to our world to tell us how it is, we’re not going to be able to reach any conclusions.

What is interesting to me is the widespread response to Steve Jobs’ last words. A few weeks ago I was discussing beliefs about God with some of my eighth grade class. One group that I was talking to largely expressed that they didn’t think they believed in something after death, but that they wished they did – they liked the idea, and found it comforting. In a recent discussion about death and dying at Fairfield University where I was a guest speaker, some students expressed belief in a heaven, but they no longer held to the idea that one would be judged and one’s destination depended on choices in this world. Perhaps there was just one ‘place’ where we all went, and perhaps it was more a transferral of energy or awareness, but not an actual physical place. Some expressed that it was in actions, family, and memory that we ‘lived on’, but only in those kinds of realms in this world.

While we may not be able to achieve clarity of answer, both the ideas we have and the questions we have about life after death are core questions that human beings have pondered since we walked on this earth. Every culture, every civilization, and every religion has had one or more ways of responding to the question. The great Jewish teacher and philosopher of the twelfth century, Maimonides, wrote extensively of the ideas found among the Jewish people in his introduction to Perek Helek. Maimonides was largely dismissive of most the mainstream ideas of his time, and implied that they taught us more about what people valued in this world than informed us of the truth of what happens when we die.

As a Rabbi, I’ve had enough exchanges with people about near death experiences, or the sense of presence of a loved one after they have died, that I have come to believe that something continues after our physical death on this earth. I’ve had personal experiences that have brought me to that place of believing in an energy – what some might call the Soul – that goes on. And, while I know those same experiences could be explained in other ways, I find my belief comforting and I believe it is comforting to others. An important part of my faith involves being able to live in the space of ‘not knowing’. I am able to experience the mystery of life and Creation in a deep and visceral way when I am able to occupy that space of not knowing. This is an important part of my spiritual awareness.

And so, while I don’t know what Steve Jobs, may he rest in peace, saw or felt in his last breaths, I hope his soul is united again with the energetic source of all existence. I hope it is quite incredible – the kind of incredible to which we might only be able to utter ‘Oh wow!’
Rachel Gurevitz

2nd candle: Tuning in to the Spirit of the holiday




The 8 blogs of Chanukah. Each night a new blog from the community of Congregation B’nai Israel.


Tonight, the second blog of Chanukah is brought to you by Laura Lehrhaupt.  Laura is a member of B’nai Israel, married to Michael (who is a regular on acoustic guitar with the B’nai Israel Band), with 3 children, Madison (one of our teenage cantorial soloists), Reuben, and Zoe.  Laura is a recent, wonderful addition to our Board of Trustees.

I have a menorah collection. It was started for me when my grandmother went on one of her trips to Israel and brought them back. That was at least fifteen years ago. Now my collection has doubled in size. Out of this collection came a great family tradition. Every night of Hannukah each one of my family members lights their own menorah. We all have our favorites. 

My daughter Zoe loves the menorah with the ceramic children on it. 
Madison often choses the penguin menorah. 
Reuben loves the little rabbi menorah. 
My husband always uses the one he brought with him from his childhood before we were married. I, of course, chose one from Israel.



What is so extraordinary is the light that shines from these menorahs is always so beautiful. It illuminates the entire room. It got me thinking about what the flame represents in our jewish traditions. Several prayers and many rituals refer to the flame being representative of our spirit or the soul of a beloved deceased friend or family member. I always loved the prayer at the beginning of the song “Papa can you hear me” from Yentl.

May the light of this flickering candle
Illuminate the night
the way your spirit illuminates my soul.

Someoneʼs spirit is not tangible. We canʼt literally see a spirit. We experience someoneʼs spirit. Like the heat from the flame. It warms us and surrounds us. It lights up the dark spaces and gives us a sense of comfort. Someone elseʼs spirit makes us experience another dimension not easily put into words. It is quick, powerful and usually you know when you encounter it. How many times have you thought to yourself “ What an amazing spirit!”

So this Hannukah, as we light all the candles on each of our menorahs, I am going to remember the wonderful people my family has had the honor of knowing. Of the people
who have added light and warmth to our home and given us gifts beyond any that can be bought. We will sing our original rendition of Hannukah songs as we watch the candles melt down to the end. Then I will clean out the wax and make room for more candles, more phenomenal spirits who will enrich our lives

Elul 27. The Gates are Opening

At the end of Yom Kippur, the images are of gates closing.  But now, as we enter the last few days of Elul and arrive at the New Year, the emotional and spiritual place we have entered since S’lichot is one where the gates are beginning to open – gates of the soul, gates of heaven, entrances to holiness, full of possibility.  A link from a friend on facebook today pointed to a powerful soul-reflection of a song recorded by Nina Simone – a spiritual called ‘Nobody’s fault but mine’, with a fascinating history.

Music is one of the keys that open the gates to the soul.  Earlier this month, our Cantor, Sheri Blum, reflected on the power of Avinu Malkeynu as a soul-opening and transformational piece of music and liturgy.  Listen to one of the most powerful recordings of the Janowski setting, by Barbra Streisand.

May our gates be opened, may our hearts be moved, and may our soul-work this season bring us closer to our Source.

14 Elul. A Unique Response to the Call of the Shofar

As we are almost half-way through the month of Elul, I thought it was time for a little light relief. A congregant pointed me to this wonderful youtube video – a truly unique response to the call of the Shofar.

Of course, we can find some of the deepest truths embedded in humor. And this little video clip is no exception. The sound of the shofar, wailing and soulful, is a powerful sound that resonates deeply within when we hear it. The question for us is what will our response be? For some it may be contemplation of life’s choices; for some it might be tears caused by life’s losses; for some it might be remembrance of Jewish holidays with family in years past, perhaps accompanied by a yearning to find some of that yiddishkeit in their own lives once more; for some it might be a call to action – to recommit to make a difference in this world.


I am a trumpet player and so, over the years, I have blown shofar in different settings – brass players find it relatively easy to sound the shofar. There is one big difference for me between playing the trumpet and blowing the shofar. When I play the trumpet I feel as though I am sending vibrations through the instrument, trying to do so in a way that makes its sound ring vibrantly, soar and shine as best as I can. When I blow shofar, I feel it sending its vibrations through me, shaking me out of my slumber, calling upon me to soar and shine as best as I can.


When you hear the call of the shofar this year, listen carefully; listen differently. Let the vibrations from those wailing calls penetrate deeply, opening heart and soul, demanding a response.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz