You Can Go Home Again

Last fall our caring and erudite President Barry Fulmer, here at Bat Yam Temple of the Islands sent a wonderful reminder to the congregation regarding our service for the Shabbat during Sukkot, which was based on the book of Ecclesiastes.  Ecclesiastes (like Esther for Purim, is the Megillah read in synagogues during Sukkot.)

In his letter Barry included a quotation from Thomas Wolfe’s posthumously published novel: You Can’t Go Home Again.

I had never read this American classic, and since I was soon to “go home again” to the first congregation I served Temple Isaiah in Columbia, Maryland, I decided I should. We left Columbia for Nashville in 1986.

For 13 yearsI served the congregation  as its first full-time rabbi. Since they were beginning to celebrate their 50th year, they invited Vickie and me back for a weekend to begin a yearlong series of celebratory events.

The book was much longer than I realized, but in the beginning of chapter 6, I found the perfect quotation to use as the introduction for my Friday night sermon. When after traveling the world, Wolfe’s protagonist George Webber returned to his boyhood home of Libya Falls, (Asheville in disguise) North Carolina for the funeral of the aunt who raised him he felt as I felt when I returned to speak at Temple Isaiah after 33 years:

“Something far, near strange and so familiar, and it seemed to him as though he had never left … and all that had passed in the years was like a dream.”

When the invitation first came to Vickie and me well over a year ago, I was delighted to accept, but I wondered, “Who will remember us? Who will care and who will come?”

To our delight, the service was packed, and many of those in attendance were students from years ago with whom I had studied for Bar or Bat Mitzvah and Confirmation. Some had traveled from as far Rochester, NY, Boston, New York City and North Carolina to be there. It was a joy to see them, and have some share the lessons from their B’nai Mitzvah portions as they fit into my teaching session on Shabbat morning.

Then on Saturday evening the present and past Presidents of the synagogue hosted Vickie and me for dinner in a private room of a lovely restaurant. After the meal the presidents took turns sharing nice memories they had of us.

With one exception they did not speak about memorable sermons or other “public acts” that stood out in their minds. Rather they spoke of specific things I did for them personally that made a lasting impact on their lives. To be honest, I could barely recall some of the instances they recounted.

But the lesson of the evening is one I shall always remember.

As Maya Angelou once wrote: “People will forget what you say … but they will never forget how you made them feel.”

I am glad we could “go home again” to re-learn that vital lesson.




November 29 Will ALWAYS Be My Thanksgiving


What a blessing! Leo, Ben, Vickie and Sarah were all by my side for my surgery in Cleveland, November 29, 2012.

Yesterday’s Thanksgiving celebration was wonderful, but today and every year, November 29 is my personal Thanksgiving.  I was born in March, but I consider November 29 my re-birthday.

On this day in 2012 for the second time doctors cracked open my chest to operate on my heart. This time it was Dr. Lars Svensson and his surgical team at the Cleveland Clinic who replaced the mechanical aortic heart valve that was no longer working as well as it should.  At the same time, they repaired what could have become a life threatening ascending aortic aneurysm.

When my cardiologist in Connecticut, the late Dr. Robert Chamberlain, whom I admired greatly and trusted implicitly, diagnosed the aneurysm, he said, “This will be a tricky operation, and I suggest you have it done in a major center of heart surgery.”  After some research we decided on the Cleveland Clinic, and Dr. Chamberlain recommended Dr Svensson.

We noted that he had repaired the aneurysm of NBA Forward Jeff Green (now with the Utah Jazz, then with the Boston Celtics), and a year later he was back playing professional basketball. Dr. Chamberlain, Vickie and I decided that if Dr. Svensson was a good enough surgeon for the Boston Celtics, he was good enough for us. So we made an appointment.

We had some flexibility in choosing a date, so I opted for November 29.  Why?

On that date in 1947, the United Nations voted to partition Palestine into two states: a Jewish Palestinian State to be called Israel, and an Arab Palestinian State.  Jews in Israel and around the world rejoiced at the decision even though the State of Israel the vote created was mostly desert with borders nearly impossible to defend.

By contrast the Arab world unanimously pledged to push the fledgling Jewish State into the Sea.

The Jewish State somehow managed to withstand the onslaught of the entire Arab world, and Israel declared its independence as a sovereign state on May 14, 1948.

I was blessed that Leo and Sarah came to Cleveland from California and Ben traveled from Connecticut to Cleveland to be with Vickie and me for the surgery. It was a precious but nervous time we had together, and I prayed that I would survive the surgery and thrive as Israel survived and thrived the war thrust upon it after November 29, 1947.

I have.

In the seven years since my second open-heart surgery, I have enjoyed untold blessings. Among them:

  • An ever deepening bond with Vickie
  • Watching each of my children thrive in their personal and professional lives.
  • The opportunity to serve as guest Rabbi for three months in Milan and Florence, Italy.
  • The opportunities I have had over the past five years to teach in German high schools with Vickie and to conduct worship and lead study in progressive synagogues as well as to preach in some two dozen German churches where I have often been the first Jew the worshippers have ever the seen.
  • The six books I have published
  • The blessing of serving as rabbi to Bat Yam Temple of the Islands in Sanibel, and the wonderful life Vickie and I enjoy here.

All in all I consider where I am today as opposed to seven years ago a minor miracle. It is a minor miracle that occasions my hope for a major miracle in the Middle East.

My annual Thanksgiving of November 29 has forged a strong bond to the message of the Torah portions we read at this time of year. On the Shabbat following my operation seven years ago the Torah portion related the climax of the Jacob story when God changes his name to Israel and he reconciles with his brother.

Tonight seven years later we read the beginning of the Jacob narrative when he extorts the birthright from his brother Esau and then impersonates his brother before his blind father to steal his brother’s Covenantal blessing.

The scene describing Esau’s entrance into his father’s tent to ask for the blessing Jacob just usurped is one of the most heartbreaking literary passages I have ever read.

Clearly, Jacob was innately more suited to be heir to God’s Covenant than the mercurial, live-for-today Esau, but only the most heartless person fails to feel Esau’s pain as he pleads. “’Bless me too, father … have you only one blessing … bless me too, father,’ and he lifted up his voice and wept.”(Genesis 27:34-38)

I have felt a strong connection to Israel since I was 15-years-old, and our Confirmation cantata, written by Rabbi Avraham Soltes, of blessed memory told the miraculous story of Israel’s rebirth.

I first visited Israel, when I studied there for a year nearly 50 years ago. Since then I have been blessed to visit more than two dozen times, sometimes for extended stays during a sabbatical and my tenure as President of the World Union for Progressive Judaism. I have also helped to lead several group tours over the decades.  Each time I visit, my love for the country grows.

Over the years I have staunchly defended Israel’s right to defend itself against the many terrorist attacks and invasions the Arab world has inflicted upon her.

The Arab World rejected peace plans in 1936, 1948, after the Six Day War in 1967 and many times subsequently. I understand why, but I still feel sadness that Israel’s position has hardened over the years.

Today, I have no doubt that in its conflict with the Palestinians and the Arab world, Israel is much more right than wrong. As the late Abba Eban, a dove if ever there was one, once said, “The Arabs never miss an opportunity to miss an opportunity.”

Each day I thank God for American aid that enhances Israel’s ability to defend itself from those who still wish to destroy her. I believe that, as Golda Meir reportedly once said:  “If the Arab world laid down its arms there would be peace. But if Israel laid down its arms there would be no Israel.”

Nothing reinforced that conviction for me more than our visit to the Gaza border on our congregation’s trip this past spring with our friends from Sanibel Congregational UCC and their wonderful Pastor, Dr. John Danner.

How can we not be moved by the existence of the Gaza Peace Wall in the face of the reality that when the alert sounds, the residents of nearby areas have but seconds to scurry into bomb shelters where too many children have already spent too great a percentage of their young lives.

Yes, I admire all that Israel has done, and for me her right to exist as a sovereign Jewish State is non-negotiable. Had there been an Israel in 1935, we would not have to commemorate the horror of the Holocaust as we do year by year.

But, still …

It is not enough for me for Israel to be more right than wrong in its conflict with its enemies. In the face of all its challenges true greatness for Israel, will lie in its ability to somehow find a way “to dry Esau’s tears.”

Just as Jacob’s receipt of the blessing caused Esau untold anguish, we cannot deny that the creation of Israel caused great pain, anguish and displacement in the Arab world.

The Torah’s metaphor speaks so clearly to me.

Just as our biblical namesake ultimately made a great sacrifice to coexist peacefully with the brother who had vowed to kill him, so too true greatness for Israel is not just a matter of agricultural, medical and economic and technical breakthroughs.  True greatness lies in unceasing efforts to make peace with the descendants of Esau who inhabit the Arab world. Despite decades of intractability there must be a way.

Israel’s National Anthem is Ha-Tikvah, “The Hope.” I will never abandon my hope that peace will one day come to the Middle East.

When I came to the Jewish cemetery in the northern German city of Flensburg near the Danish border in 2015 to participate in commemorations for Kristallnacht, I was dumbstruck by the fact that the Jewish and Muslim cemeteries in that city are adjacent to one another.

Seeing how peacefully, Jews and Muslims can lie together in death strengthened my resolve to never give up hope:  One day Jacob and Esau will once again embrace and Jews and Muslims will live together – as well as lie together – in peace.


The Jewish and Muslim cemeteries in Flensburg, Germany, lie side by side



   Bridging the Gap Between Deuteronomy 15:4 and 15:11 A Thanksgiving Prayer

IMG_3813 Thanksgiving soon will be here,

A grand and special day,

So I opened up the Good Book

To see what it has to say.


I find in Deuteronomy

A glorious proclamation:

“There shall be no needy among you

In any land or nation!” (15:4)


What a wonderful vision that is!

If only it were true,

But I note a few lines further

We have much work to do!


“The poor will never cease to be,” (15:11)

The very next paragraph reads.

How can two such opposite views

Be almost rubbing knees?


The answer lies between

The conflicting thoughts we heard,

But we must follow closely

And take to heart God’s words!



There will be no poor about!

But that can only happen when,

We all work together

To make it “Now,” not “Then!”


Yet we know the time’s not near

When all will heed God’s wish

So those of us who really care 

Must step up to the dish.


Those of us who’re here today

Are comfortable no doubt.

But all too many on God’s earth 

Surely do without!


Without a home to keep them dry

Without clothes to keep them warm,

From snow and sleet and wind and rain,

And every passing storm.


Others strive just to exist

Without enough to eat

Try feeding five on minimum wage.

That’s surely no mean feat.




And don’t forget those in our midst

Who have much that they own,

But suffer sadness deep inside

And feel so all alone.


Can our hearts make room for them?

Our bounty share at least?

And perhaps invite some to our home

To share Thanksgiving’s feast!


Scripture’s charge to us is clear:

There is much still to be done,

Before our world and God’s will

Truly become one!


As we give thanks for all our blessings,

With hearts and hands unfurled:

Let’s embrace God’s challenge to us

To repair our broken world!






Back to the Beginning


“In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.”  So begins our Torah and one of the most familiar and most misunderstood stories in all of literature.  So many ask:  How could God have created the world in six days?  What about the dinosaurs and evolution?  Don’t we believe in that?

Of course we believe in that!  The creation story in Genesis never was meant to offer a scientific account of HOW the world was created.  It is rather an exquisite religious poem offering insight as to WHY we are here.

The biblical authors were not interested in writing science.  The truths of the creation story are the religious ideas that it sets forth –ideas upon which all subsequent Jewish thought depends.

The first assumption of the story is that God initiated creation.  However the world came to be our story contends that a single, good caring God started the process.  God acted with purpose and meaning. Therefore, our lives have purpose and meaning.

In the story, everything builds on what comes before. Note the rhythm and the repetition of certain key phrases:  “And God said ‘Let there be… and there was’”  “And God saw… that it was good.”  And there was evening and there was morning …” These recurring refrains convey a sense of order and intention.

The next major teaching of the story is that we human beings are in charge of and responsible for the world.   Until the text (Chapter 1, verse 26) begins to tell of the creation of human beings, the method by which God creates is simple and clear:  God said, “Let there be…” and the next step in creation unfolds.

When it comes to humanity, though, the method of creation changes.  “And God said: “Let us create humanity in our image after our likeness. And they shall rule the fish of the sea, the birds of the air on the cattle and all the earth and everything that creeps on the earth.”  And God created us human beings – male and female – in the Divine Image.

That does not mean, of course, that we look like God.  God has no shape or form.  It means that we human beings have God-like powers, and the Almighty has set us in charge of and responsible for the earth.  God gave us awesome power, and we can use it for good or for ill.

The Midrash (Bereshit Rabbah 8:11) teaches that we human beings stand midway between God and the rest of the animals.  Like the animals we eat, sleep, drink, procreate, eliminate our waste and die.  But in a God-like way we have the power to think, analyze, create and shape the environment in a way that far surpasses any other creature.

We are the only creatures on earth that can go to the side of a mountain, mine ore from the mountain, and turn the ore into iron, the iron into steel and with that steel forge the most delicate of surgical instruments to heal and to save lives.

We are, also, the only creature that can go to the same mountain, mine the same ore and from that ore fashion bombs and bullets whose only purpose is to kill and to maim.

The implicit and overriding message of the story is that God wants us to use our power to form a just, caring, compassionate society on earth.  But we – not God – must decide if we will.

.  The final religious teaching of the story concerns Shabbat.  On the seventh day God rested, and God wants us to rest too, but not just in the sense of relaxation.  God wants us to have a day each week to step back and ponder how we can do a better job of fashioning the type of society God wants.

Genesis’ magnificent creation story makes no pretense of being scientific.  Rather, it teaches the core values upon which our religious traditions rests.  It teaches that God entrusts the earth to our care. It is, though, as the Midrash (Ecclesiastes Rabbah 7:13) reminds us, the only earth we will get.  May that knowledge inspire us to care for it lovingly and use the talents with which God has blessed us to hand over a safer, sweeter more ecologically sound world to our children and grandchildren.

She Had Me From Hello

                        Lois Lynn Lorsch

December 15, 1961-September 3, 2019


Howard (L) and Lois Lorsch, z’l, blessing the Torah during worship at Bat Yam Temple of the Islands, February 2019.

In Howard’s words, “Lois was my wife, soul mate and best friend. She was a great mother to our children, my partner forever, confidante advisor and much more. She was a successful businesswoman and a trusted partner. Most of all Lois was a caregiver.

She loved great wine, cooked with it and, sometimes, she even put it in her dishes. She was a great cook.”

Vickie shared with Howard that President Andrew Jackson had his late wife Rachel’s picture on the wall in front of her bed. He wanted her to be the last thing he saw before going to sleep and the first thing he saw every morning. For Howard too, Lois will always be the first thing he thinks of in the morning and the last thing his mind and heart will see at night.

It was an act of genius for President Alan Lessack to appoint Lois Chair of the Rabbinic Search Committee, and it was an act of mind-boggling courage that Lois accepted the offer.

In a famous country, song, You Had Me from, “Hello,” Kenny Chesney sang, “Your smile just captured me. You were in my future as far as I could see.”

When she first interviewed me, Lois Lorsch had me “from Hello.”

When I learned the Chair of the Bat Yam. Temple of the Islands search committee wanted to Face Time with me, I Googled her. I learned Lois Lorsch owned and operated an Executive Search firm with her husband, and I could see from her business card photo that she was a very attractive woman with long black hair.

So you can imagine my surprise when this completely bald person with big black-rimmed glasses sat on the screen in front of me.

I thought Ms. Lorsch had been detained and that her husband was there to tell that she would be with me shortly.

But at “Hello” I discerned that this was the woman in the photo. Lois proceeded with the interview without a trace of self-consciousness or hesitation.

By the time I learned that she was undergoing chemotherapy for cancer, I was hooked.

“If this synagogue,” I thought, “was so important to this woman that she would undertake this vital job in her condition, it must be a very special place, and this must be a very special woman!”

I was right on both counts.

In our second conversation, long before Bat Yam invited me to be its rabbi, I told Lois, “No matter how this search turns out, if I can ever be helpful to you as you fight this dreaded disease, I am here.”

Whatever help and support I have offered her and Howard pales in comparison to what they have given me.

She was more than a congregant and more than a friend. She was a life-coach who gave me, and all of us, a Master Class in how to live … and how to die. Her determination to squeeze every ounce of joy and meaning into each day God gave her will inspire me, and all of us, as long as we live.

One example: a year ago, Lois invested inordinate amounts of physical and emotional energy to easing the passage of another cancer victim, Bat Yam’s beloved Miriam Bailey, from this life to the next.

“Why?” I asked her. “You need to save your strength.”

“It needed to be done,” she answered.

”When she saw something that needed to be done, Lois just did it because it was the right thing to do.

As for you, God, I am very angry.

Murderers and cheats live long, carefree lives and You allow this to happen to Lois Lorsch! Yes, I am angry, but I refuse to allow my anger to become the arrogance that denies God. I will rage against God, but I will accept that there is so much that we don’t understand and will never understand about God.

Instead, I will realize that, in the words of the Psalmist, “A thousand years are but as yesterday in your sight.” (Psalm 90:4)

It is not the number of days we live that matter, but what we do with them.

So, I will thank you for the gift of Lois’ life. I will thank you for what she meant to Howie, her children, her many dear friends, to Bat Yam and to me.

Through all her tribulations Lois’ devotion to Judaism and her deep spirituality never wavered.  She studied Hebrew with me on Shabbat morning.  She read beautifully from the Torah last December 14, and we had a date for her to read from the Torah at services again in February.

The photo (above) she gave me for my birthday of her and Howard blessing the Torah at services last winter – a photo framed in seashells that she collected – hangs proudly in our home.

Lois was one of Bat Yam’s first Yom Kippur Congregants’ Hour speakers two years ago, and she was magnificent! In her speech she spoke lovingly of how Howard was the perfect partner and soul mate to walk with her through all the joys and difficulties with which life presented her.

Lois was the driving force behind Bat Yam’s decision to adopt the new prayerbook of the Reform movement for this coming High Holy Day season. She fully expected to be there for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Now, the new book will be a monument to her intellectual curiosity, her spiritual depth and her devotion to Bat Yam Temple of the Islands.

Lois lived every day to the fullest. She loved music festivals, concerts, new places, new people and new adventures.

Her doctors marveled at her courage, tenacity and longevity. And at every step along the way –until her final breath– she never gave in to despair or anger.

 Yes, she “had me from “Hello,’” but her goodbye will stay in my heart forever.

Her family and friends all ask: What would Lois do? She would have us embrace and enjoy life as she did. She would have us care about others as she did. And she would have us look whatever adversity confronts us right in the eye and face the future with courage.

Lois Lorsch: her memory will be blessing to all of us privileged to know her.




Barbara Merchant

The Hebrew month of Elul begins this year on September 1.

During this month our tradition calls upon us to scrutinize our actions to prepare for the intense period of repentance and soul searching from Rosh Hashanah through the full day fast on Yom Kippur ten days later.

Soul Searching

Looking back over my life I find myself regretting the all too many times that selfishness supplanted kindness and intensity pushed concern for the feelings of others out of my consciousness.

Our High Holy Day prayerbook urges us to think of others and how we have treated them in the past. This year my interactions with one person from high school come to mind: Barbara Merchant.

Barbara and I

The high point of my high school academic career came when our Guidance counselor, Miss Jane Perry, came into our English class after the first six-week grading period junior year to announce that I stood first in the class academically for the grading period.

As Miss Perry left the room Barbara followed her out into the hall. Two minutes later Miss Perry returned to announce that Barbara and I had tied for first in the class. Somehow Barbara knew that our report cards that period were identical.

Barbara Merchant! Typing her name fills me with regret.

She was very bright and very kind. We should have been friends, but we were always rivals in the classroom and on the school newspaper. Sadly, each of us was denied the position of Editor-in-Chief our senior year because of fear that neither of us would take direction from the other. So she became Feature Editor, and I became Front Page Editor.

It is well over half a century too late, but it is clear to me now that Barbara absolutely deserved to be Editor in Chief more than I. If our rivalry denied her that honor, I am truly sorry. But, things look differently at 73 from the way they looked at 17.

I have Googled Barbara without success, and I do not know what became of her. I want to apologize to her. I know that I did not treat her with the respect and admiration she deserved.

A couple of times we had meaningful conversations, but it was rivalry and envy that marked the way we regarded each other most of the time.

As the month of Elul approaches, and our season of introspection and repentance begins, I want you to know, Barbara, that wherever you are, I am truly sorry.

Is there someone to whom you should apologize? If so, I urge you, do it before it is too late.

Pervasive Fear

The prophet Micah (4:4) succinctly and eloquently articulates God’s ideal for humanity with the words ואין מחריד  – “nothing or no one shall cause fear. The verse envisions or dreams of a wonderful time, “when everyone shall sit under their vine and under their fig tree and no one shall make them afraid.

In Psalm 54 (verse 6) we read a garbled Hebrew verse that might read:  “There they are in great fear, where no fear was.”

In his masterful commentary on Psalms, Robert Alter interprets the verse as referring to a time when the Israelites “were afraid, but it turned out there was no reason to fear.”

Mass shootings over the past several years and particularly the most recent ones (at least the most recent ones as of this writing) in El Paso and Denver bring to my mind a different interpretation of the confusing verse:

There is NOW pervasive fear when previously there was once no reason to be afraid.

  • Just days ago residents of El Paso felt they could shop at Wal-Mart without fear. Now they have learned differently.
  • Just days ago people in Dayton, Ohio blithely went out for a night on town. Now things are different.

So it is all over this country. Places considered safe are no longer safe. No one considers herself or himself safe anymore. We all are acutely aware that the next attack can happen at our synagogue, church, mosque, shopping center or entertainment venue.

It is a horrible way to live.

When I went to school, shooting drills were not part of the curriculum. Now they are.

How has this great country, become a place where the fear of random violence lingers over all that we do?

How did the “Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave” become the “Land of Pervasive Fear?”

The thought of living in constant fear sickens me, and when I look at my six beautiful grandchildren, it sickens me even more.

  • Gun control
  • Reduced violence spewing out of media outlets
  • Better mental provisions for those with emotional disorders
  • Improved public schools
  •  Health care that is the right for all; not the privilege of the wealthy
  • Swift punishment for cops who cross the line 

All of these are agenda items for our society to address yesterday if not sooner if ever we hope to roll back the cloud of once unnecessary fear that hovers over all of us.



And Now Dayton

There is an old country song that the late Lynne Anderson (of Rose Garden Fame) used to sing on the Lawrence Welk Show. It is called, “I’ve Been Everywhere, Man.” Singing it requires a prodigious memory of hundreds of place names sung at (excuse the expression) Machine Gun Speed.

The next name on the seemingly endless list is Dayton!

Will it ever end?

Will we as a nation ever come to our senses?

Yes, I know, guns don’t kill people, people kill people. How many times have we heard that one? Of course it is true. But it is a lot easier to kill large numbers of people with a machine gun than with a knife.

No, it won’t solve the problem, but it will make a dent if we make a license to own and discharge a firearm as difficult as the process of obtaining a driver’s license.

It is not that tough, but you have to prove that you are capable of operating a vehicle. Still automobiles have killed and will continue to kill millions of people. But how much higher that number would be if anyone could simply buy a car and hit the road?

No, gun control will not eliminate wanton violence.

But it sure would make a difference!

El Paso Today

עד מתי (Ad Ma-tie)

How long?”

In different ways the authors of the Bible’s Book of Psalms ask this question over and over again:

How long will wickedness, violence and terror reign on the earth?

The Psalmist’s question 3000 years ago is my question today. Vickie and I were in a Wal-Mart in Fort Myers when hell descended on a Wal-Mart in El Paso. So I feel more connected than usual to this latest outbreak of hate filled terror.

It was easier today than in other shootings to envision my wife and I mowed down by machine gun fire as we vainly scrambled for refuge in a crowded store.

How long will we allow the NRA to allow people with AK-47 rifles to unload their magazines on innocent people? How long will we allow lives and dreams to be destroyed in an instant just because someone feels like doing so?

Mass shootings are no longer unexpected. Each subsequent tragedy raises the questions not if there will be a next one, but where and when will the next one be?

So twenty more people are now dead. Scores of others are seriously wounded because the Congress of the United States is content with our nation having the highest rate of deaths to gun violence in the world.

Stricter gun control will not stop all the shootings, but they will stop many. Background checks for all, licenses for all and a ban on assault type weapons are necessary – no brainer really –steps our nation must take.

 Rabbi Sarah Hronsky wrote that we must never become numb to the carnage that the NRA fights for the right to occur and too many Senators and members of the House of Representatives condone by their failure to act.

The second amendment to our Constitution speaks of the rights of states to arm and train a “well-regulated militia.” The second amendment does not say that anyone or anybody should be able to possess and use a weapon capable of killing dozens of people in little more than an eye blink.

Our gun laws are a national disgrace!

Health care should be a right not a privilege for those who can afford it. Owning a gun by contrast should be a privilege like driving a car, for which one must prove oneself worthy and capable.

We Americans need to have the guts to vote for politicians who will stand up to the NRA and pass gun laws that will save lives.

We need to vote for a President who will lead the way to a safer United States.

How long? How long until this country finally comes to its senses?


A Trip to Savor 


pcFDkOwqSp26zqpFc0MYLQPastor John Danner and I at the Peace Wall at the border of Gaza comparing our messages of hope that this troubled part of the world may one day know harmony and cooperaton.

Our congregation’s joint trip to Israel with Sanibel Congregational UCC exceeded my fondest expectations!

The only previous interfaith journey to Israel I had undertaken was one that I co-led with an anti-Israel Arab Professor from the Hartford Seminary twenty year ago.  It was not a joyful experience.

While I tried to present and model an open-minded, “let’s listen to both sides of the conflict,” perspective, the professor took us to a Palestinian village where his selected panelists heaped venomous attacks on the very existence of the Jewish State as we sat in a beautiful auditorium community center built for that Arab village by the Government of Israel.

When the Professor begged off our visit to the Holocaust Memorial at Yad Va-Shem, claiming he did not feel well (he was absolutely fine that evening), I truly regretted having agreed to co-lead this “journey of understanding.”

By contrast our joint trip this summer was an absolute joy.

There were 42 in our group, almost equally divided between Christians and Jews. My UCC counterpart, Rev. Dr. John Danner was a model of sensitivity, open mindedness, wisdom and pastoral concern.

For me one of the true highlights was accepting the invitation of Rabbi Ada Zavidov to deliver the D’var Torah at Kabbalat Shabbat services at Kehilat Har El in Jerusalem, the oldest Reform synagogue in Israel. On this visit to Har El, I spoke in English for the benefit of my wonderful group of fellow travelers about the vital principles of human conduct found in the Holiness Code, Leviticus, chapter 19.  It warmed my heart to know that every idea I expressed was an ideal that Dr. Danner and his congregants could wholeheartedly affirm. Our religious differences are real, but we share common moral values and a fervent desire to use our respective faiths as springboards to help repair our broken world.

It was the second time in 5779 that I had the privilege of preaching at Har El. The first time in October I spoke in Hebrew about the lessons of the stories of Noah and the Tower of Babel. Then I was visiting my son Leo, who at 42 made the decision to begin rabbinical studies and spend his first year of the five-year graduate program at Hebrew Union College in Jerusalem. His address to our group this spring was a genuine highlight of the journey.

Leo has an extensive Jewish background, but he knows well there is no shortcut to becoming a genuinely credentialed rabbi. The day-in, day-out, interactions with Professors and other students are absolutely essential to a rabbi’s legitimacy

A shortcut course and a bit of flair and charisma may help one become an effective leader of worship, but to become a rabbi, worthy of that venerable title, takes years and years of full time concentrated study. Anything less is akin to calling an EMT a physician.

On our recent trip it was just as important to me and my fellow Jews as it was to the Christians in our group to visit the holy places of their religion. Worship at the Church of the Redeemer in Jerusalem on Sunday morning, visits to the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem, the Church of the Annunciation in Nazareth and the opportunity for our Christian friends to re-experience baptism in the Jordan River were moving experiences for us Jews to better understand Christian roots and practices.

Pastor Danner, while scrupulously respecting boundaries, offered loving and Jewishly affirming explanations that enhanced all of our understanding. I’d go with him again, to Israel or any other place of mutual interest.