Only God Can Make A Tree

~ slfuchs ~ 2 Comments

 

FullSizeRender

The view from the back of our home

 

“Only God can make a tree …” These words conclude Joyce Kilmer’s iconic poem that was a staple of my fifth grade English studies.

Kilmer’s simple lyric has stayed with me over the years as a vital reference point for the existence of God.

The world has gotten so much more sophisticated since I was in the fifth grade sixty years ago. The advances in science, technology, and medicine are mind-blowing.

With that knowledge has come an increased hubris about humanity’s power. Fewer and fewer Americans go regularly to houses of worship to acknowledge and give thanks to the Eternal One. When they do they look less for serious opportunities to pray and more for cute programs that will keep their children entertained.

Our quantum leaps in human knowledge and understanding blind so many to the reality that the gap between our attainable knowledge and the mysteries of the universe will always be unfathomable. Atheists insist on divorcing God from these mysteries, and that is their right.

Others are arrogant enough to say that if they can’t understand the morality of disease or senseless violence, then there must not be a God.

At the opposite end of the spectrum are those who ascribe every thing that happens to God and see themselves only as puppets doing what they perceive God has told or wants them to do. The dangers of such fanatical fundamentalist belief are too apparent in our world today to require elaboration.

Why cannot more human beings see a sane middle path?

Those who walk that path see creation as the purposeful initiative of a good, caring God who wants us human beings to create a just, caring and compassionate society.

Whether we like it or not (and some do not) we humans are in charge of and responsible for the earth.

We have power far beyond that of any animal to think, communicate and create. We can use that power for good or for ill. Wise religious teachings should inspire us to take good care of this earth and of each other.

  • I accept and admire those who work conscientiously toward these ends without acknowledging God’s role.
  • I judge people more by their actions than their beliefs.
  • I acknowledge that the day may yet come when we human beings can indeed make trees.

Some would say that day is already here. But will we make them from nothing, ex nihilo, as the official phrase puts it? I doubt it.

Even if that happened I would still believe. Why?

As I look behind our home and see the beautiful green foliage waving in the breeze my mind goes back to what I learned by rote in the fifth grade. Now those words form a conclusion I have reached after another sixty years of questioning and struggling:

“Only God can make a tree!”FullSizeRender

Trees

by Joyce Kilmer

I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the sweet earth’s flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,

And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear

A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain

Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.

(With thanks to  Sarah F. Baldwin, my fifth grade teacher: the toughest, most ornery teacher I ever had. Your lessons endure!)

The Lost Passover

~ slfuchs ~ 13 Comments

(with gratitude to the Eternal One as this is the first new essay I have written since mid April)

This year was the first time in my life I did not attend a Passover Seder. Instead Erev Pesach found me in an ambulance on the way to the hospital.

Vickie (my wife) was in San Francisco tending to her ninety-four-year old mother who was ailing. I planned to drive to New Jersey (From Connecticut where we live) to join the family Seder, but it didn’t turn out that way.

I woke up that Friday morning with a severe pain in my leg. I was not overly concerned when I called Vickie in California and told her. But she was.

She called our son Ben and asked him to come right over. When he got to our home, he immediately decided to call 911.

“No, I said. “Don’t call 911. What will the neighbors think if an ambulance comes here? It will be embarrassing.”

The next thing I remember was riding in an ambulance on my way to the hospital.

There they told me that my blood pressure had fallen dangerously low. They drew blood for tests and began to pump me full of intravenous fluids.

Early the next morning our family physician called Vickie to tell her, “You had better come home today.”

My older son, who lives in San Francisco came with her. They managed to get a flight and arrived at the hospital late that evening.

Events after that are a blur.

I remember an infectious disease doctor asking me questions that seemed ridiculous. “What’s your name?” “Do you know where you are?” “Do you know with whom you are speaking”’ When I looked at her incredulously, she asked, “Do you know why I am asking you these questions?

“No.”

“Because,” she answered, “the profile on this chart shows a much sicker person then you are presenting to me in person.”

That was good news. The bad news was that I had a life-threatening strep infection centered in my left hip. “As soon as your blood pressure is high enough,” she continued,” they will operate to flush and drain the area.” They did two days later, and I have a long scar caused by nineteen stainless steel staples to show for it on the back of my thigh.

The other procedures I remember were a special kind of echocardiogram to be sure that neither my artificial aortic valve nor my pacemaker had been infected. They were not. Then they inserted a Peripheral Inserted Central Catheter (PICC) so that I could receive twice daily infusions of intravenous antibiotics. That process continued for six weeks.

On the seventh day of Passover I was released for rehab to the Hebrew Home and Hospital. I had visited the place dozens of times, but I never imagined I would one day be a patient there.

The physical therapy at the Hebrew Home was excellent, but it was a tough week. The best part of it was when my son and daughter-in-law smuggled a mushroom pizza into my room along with Flora, my not quite two-year-old granddaughter to mark the end of Passover.

The days since have been marked by thrice weekly visits to physical therapy and countless MD visits to the surgeon, primary care physician, and the infectious disease doctor.

May was supposed to be a big month for me.

I had several speaking engagements on my calendar, and joyous celebrations of a Bat Mitzvah in Cleveland and a graduation in Buffalo. But my doctor made clear: “You aren’t doing anything at all in May but rest and rehab”. And so it was.

This episode confronts me with lessons I have taught dozens of times over the years:

  • Don’t take yourself too seriously. The world did not end because I had to cancel appearances in Rochester, NY, Springfield, NJ and Manchester, Hartford and Deep River, CT.
  • Make each day count. We never know what tomorrow will bring.

Now we are in the middle of June, and though I have a ways to go, I am so much better. My caregivers all caution me not to rush things and to give my body all the rest it needs to heal completely.

I have followed their advice, but this past Shabbat Eve—with their approval–I took a huge step by speaking in public for the first time.

Although I was completely wiped out the next day, I was overjoyed. For the first time in more than six weeks I left home other than to go to a doctor, physical therapy, or the gym for my prescribed exercises.

I pray my recovery continues apace. In the next few days Vickie’s mother turns ninety-five and Flora will be two. I certainly don’t want to miss those wonderful occasions, and I look forward to celebrating Passover next year.

What Happened at Sinai?

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The Festival of Shavuot begins tomorrow evening, June 11.

Shavuot commemorates the pivotal moment when God revealed Torah on Mount Sinai.

So unique in history did the Sages of our people envision the event at Sinai that they imagined the whole world coming to a complete silent standstill. In the words of the Midrash:

When God gave the Torah, no bird twittered, no fowl flew, no ox grunted…the sea did not roar … the whole world hushed in breathless silence, and the Divine voice went forth proclaiming (Exodus 20:2): “I am the Lord your God; who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.” (Shemot Rabbah 29:9)

What makes this moment so unique? At Sinai the Covenant God made first with Abraham alone became the privilege and sacred responsibility of the entire Jewish people, past, present and future.

What actually took place at Sinai?

It should surprise no one that our Sages fertile minds produced a number differing Midrashim. Here are four:

In one God offers Torah to all the nations of the world. But when they hear what it says –Don’t cheat, don’t steal, treat the stranger the widow, the orphan and the poor with special dignity and respect – they all reject it out of hand. (See Sefer Ha-Agadah (Bialik and Rovenitzky, editors, vol. 1, p. 59).

Another Midrash, that I like to call, “The Godfather Midrash,” envisions God lifting Mount Sinai and hold it over the heads of the assembled Children of Israel. Then God says, “Either you accept and pledge to observe my Torah or I shall drop the mountain on top of you.” (B. Shabbat 88A and B. Avodah Zarah 2B)

This Midrash teaches us the vital lesson that our only purpose as a people is to be teachers and examples of the ideals of Torah to the world.

Indeed by adherence to these ideals we become in the words of the Prophet Isaiah; “A light to the nations,” (Isaiah 49:6) a worthy example for all. If we are not willing to accept the responsibility of adhering to the Torah’s ideals, there is no good reason for us to continue to exist.

A third Midrash that states that unless Israel agrees to embrace the Torah and its ideals, God would break the promise made after the flood never to destroy the world again (B. Shabbat 88A).

A fourth Midrash stresses the importance of passing the ideal of Torah to future generations. In this Midrash God demands that we demonstrate that we are worthy to receive it? When God asks us to offer guarantors of our worthiness, we offer the deeds of our patriarchs and our prophets but God finds neither of these acceptable.

Only when we pledge the loyalty of our children to God’s teachings does God reveal the Torah to our people. (Shir Ha Shirim Rabbah, Chapter 1, Section 4, Midrash 1)

The rabbinic method of interpretation encouraged creative thought. There was rarely only one acceptable point of view on any question. Here I have shared four different rabbinic versions of how the greatest moment in our religious history came to be.  There are others. Each one, though, stresses our privilege and responsibility to study Torah and pass its teachings on to the next generation.

 

A Hidden Gem!

~ slfuchs ~ 2 Comments

In less than a month (Saturday evening, June 11) the Festival of Shavuot arrives. The festival has come to celebrate the revelation of the Ten Commandment at Mount Sinai. But just after the Ten Commandment is one of Torah’s most important lessons.

slfuchs's avatarFinding Ourselves In The Bible

Quick Comment Parashat Yitro (Exodus 18:1-20:23)

It is easy to overlook a gem of a lesson that lurks unobtrusively behind the Ten Commandments, but it is a lesson that can change our lives.

“And if you make Me an altar of stone, you shall not build it of cut stones; for if you lift up your tool upon it, you have polluted it.” (Exodus 20:22)

God loves us just as we are

We all have the potential to be stones in God’s altar and we all have the potential to see in others the same potential.

But too often we want to cut those other potential stones to fit our expectations of how they should be.

God welcomes all to worship at the Divine altar whether we are Jewish, Christian, Muslim, Hindu, another religion or no religion at all. It does not matter if we are gay, straight or transgender.

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A Grateful Tribute to Gogi Grant

~ slfuchs ~ 2 Comments

https://youtu.be/lVcPdD3QIAw

In 1956 during the first wave of Elvis’ popularity—after “Hound Dog,” “Don’t Be Cruel,” “I Want You, I Need You, I Love You,” and “Love Me Tender” were number one on the Hit Parade–a Jewish girl from Philadelphia pushed Elvis down the list.

Myrtle Audrey Arinsberg, the eldest of six children born to Russian-Jewish parents, took the number one spot from the King. Between Elvis first chart topper, “Heart Break Hotel,” and the above-mentioned classics, Ms Ginsberg, better known as Gogi Grant, reigned for five weeks at number one with “The Wayward Wind.”

Sixty years later the songs timeless beauty endures. It is one of the best, most tightly told and evocative “story-songs” of all time. Ms Grant’ spot on performance of her classic at age 80 (above) is a remarkable achievement.

In recent years I have seriously considered the contrast between ‘the wayward wind’ of the song and the “’wind’ (spirit)’ of God” that hovered over the waters   (Genesis 1:2) at the beginning of the Torah’s creation story.

The wayward wind is a random breeze that sweeps up those who follow it and symbolizes a life of aimless selfishness. And of course the bottom line in the song is that because of it, as Ms Grant so plaintively sings, “I’m now alone with a broken heart.”

By contrast the wind of God that hovered over the primordial waters presages the story’s vital lesson that God does not want the wind or spirit within us to be random.

The whole point of the creation story is that life is not an accident and that we should live with purpose and meaning. Everything in the story is created in an orderly fashion and with great purpose. The message is our lives should have purpose and direction. Only we human beings (Genesis 1:26) are created B’tzelem Elohim, in the image of God. That means of all creatures on earth we have the most power. As intelligent as our pets or the chimpanzees or the dolphins are, they are not going to perform life-saving brain surgery. They are also not going to build bombs or bullets whose only purpose is to kill or to maim.

Indeed the overarching message of the creation story is that God wants us to use the awesome power we each possess to positive purpose and for each of us to contribute in some small way to the creation of a more just, caring and compassionate society.

But God doesn’t make us do that. We have a choice.

We can allow the wayward wind to swirl us around aimlessly through life or we can find the “wind of God” deep within our souls and make our lives a blessing to those with whom we interact.

Gogi Grant sang of the wayward wind but seems to have heeded the “wind” of the Eternal one. She honed her vocal gifts so that critics hailed her as “one of the premier vocalists of the 1950s and 1960s, is known for her crystal clear voice, perfect pitch, and a strong vocal range.”
After Riding the top of the charts and starring as the voice of Helen Morgan in the 1957 movie biography of the 1920”s singer, she made 15 LP albums.

She also weathered the stormy winds of two failed marriages.

In 1967, when her son Joshua (actor Joshua Beckett) was an infant, Ms Grant stepped away from the performing world for 20 years to focus on raising her children. When she launched her comeback, the critical verdict was that she had not lost a beat.

Gogi Grant died last month at age 91. She harnessed the wayward wind that beckons to all of us and lived a life of purpose and meaning, a life that enriched her loved ones and enriched her many fans.. May her memory endure as a blessing!

Clicking “LIKE” Matters!

~ slfuchs ~ 2 Comments

Because I am so deeply moved by the outpouring of prayers and good wishes on my recent cataract surgery, I want to repost an essay that I originally published in The Jerusalem Post on March 3, 2013.

 

 

“Rabbi Fuchs to Have Open Heart Surgery,” read a late-June 1996 headline on the first page of the local news section of The Nashville Banner.

While I had neither hoped for nor wanted such publicity surrounding my surgery, the headline symbolizes the difference between the surgery I underwent at Vanderbilt University Medical Center in Nashville back then and the more complex open-heart surgery I underwent at the Cleveland Clinic on November 29, 2012.

In Nashville, because I was known in the community, my surgery to replace a congenitally defective aortic valve attracted more attention, advice, visits and support than I could ever imagine.

By contrast my surgery in 2012 was in Cleveland where I knew almost no one.

My Connecticut cardiologist encouraged me to have my much more complex 2012 procedure done in a major heart center where they do lots of these unusual procedures.” With his encouragement, we settled on the Cleveland Clinic.

It was a great choice.

The surgeon, Dr. Lars Svensson, is world-renowned, and the medical, nursing and technical care were all superb! The problem was that except for one incredibly wonderful and supportive family with whom we are very close and a couple of very gracious and concerned rabbis, we knew no one in Cleveland.

The love and care I continue to receive from my wife Vickie is priceless, and my three adult children all interrupted their very busy lives to fly in for the surgery from both coasts. But after a few precious days, my children – as they should have – flew back to their spouse, children and professional responsibilities.

Into the breach in a surprisingly meaningful way entered FACEBOOK.

When I travelled the world for an 18-month period as President of the World Union for Progressive Judaism – making 65 visits on five continents and living both in Israel and in New York City – I checked in on FACEBOOK only occasionally and posted even less frequently. Since my surgery, I have been a frequent contributor.

Why?

I repeat the words I posted from Cleveland two days before my operation with even more feeling than when I originally wrote them:

“FB friends, if ever you wonder whether the short messages of encouragement and support you are thinking about writing to people facing difficult challenges in the lives (illness, surgery, loss of a loved one or a job a few examples) do any good, trust me they do. My FB contacts have made the surgery I face Thursday and the events leading up to it much easier to deal with, and I am very grateful to each one of you who has reached out …”

One of the first things I did when I returned from intensive care after the operation was to post the following:

“Dear FB friends, it is still difficult for me to type, but I have read with deep gratitude (and will surely read again and again) each and every one of your messages to me. I cannot express how much they mean. Although I feel as weak as a kitten, your prayers, thoughts and good wishes have given me strength…”

It was strength I needed. People I knew in elementary and high school, college and grad school, in the three communities I served as rabbi and in my travels for the WUPJ have lifted me up. Some I knew intimately; some I had never met in real life. I have tried to pay it forward because lifting the spirits of another is a huge return on an investment as small as typing a few short words or even simply clicking “LIKE.”

 

As I anticipated my recent cataract procedures many people told me, “Oh, cataract surgery is nothing.” For me the thought of somebody cutting on my eyeballs was far from, “nothing.” Although it did not reach the level of my two open-heart procedures, my anxiety level was high. Once again, the support I received from people at every station and locale of my life was so comforting. Today, I repeat with more fervor than ever:

Clicking LIKE matters and encouraging comments matter even more!

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Kinder Gentler Chad Gadya

~ slfuchs ~ 8 Comments

 

Since I was a child, Chad Gadya has been one of my favorite parts of the Passover Seder. Its catchy melody and its underlying message always resonated with me.

Singing the song was such fun as we outdid each other to remember the words and sing them as quickly as possible until we came to the refrain, Chad Gadya, Chad Gadya, My father bought for two zuzim, Chad Gadya, Chad, Gadya.

The people of Israel were the Chad Gadya, Aramaic for the innocent little goat, devoured successively by one power after another. The ultimate hope of course is that one day the Eternal one would destroy “the Angel of Death” and the human propensity for conquest and violence. Israel would live in peace and harmony with her neighbors, and all would be right with the world.

For those unfamiliar with it the lyrics are:

Chad Gadya, Chad Gadya, (An Only Kid, An Only Kid)

Refrain: (At the beginning of the song and after every stanza):

 My father bought for two zuzim (a small amount of money) Chad Gadya, Chad Gadya!

Then came the cat and ate the Kid …

Then came the dog and bit the cat that ate the kid …

Then came the stick and beat the dog that bit the cat that ate the kid …

Then came the fire and burnt the stick that beat the dog that bit the cat that ate the kid …

Then came the water and quenched the fire that burnt the stick that beat the dog that bit the cat that ate the kid …

Then came the ox and drank the water that quenched the fire that burnt the stick that beat the dog that bit the cat that ate the kid …

Then came the butcher and slaughtered the ox that drank the water that quenched the fire that burnt the stick that beat the dog that bit the cat that ate the kid …

Then came the Angel of Death and slew the butcher that slaughtered the ox that drank the water that quenched the fire that burnt the stick that beat the dog that bit the cat that ate the kid …

Then came the Holy One blessed be God and destroyed the Angel of Death that slew the butcher that slaughtered the ox that drank the water that quenched the fire that burnt the stick that beat the dog that bit the cat that ate the kid

My father bought for two zuzim Chad Gadya, Chad Gadya!

A few years ago Vickie and I hosted a Seder in San Francisco for our son and daughter and their families that consisted of four children five and under. Everything was going smoothly until I got a call from my son Leo, who said, “Dad we have a problem. Liz (our daughter-in-law) doesn’t like Chad Gadya.”

“What’s not to like about Chad Gadya,” I asked?

“She says it’s too violent,” he answered.

“But it’s a wonderful metaphor” I replied, “for the history of our people. Let me talk to her.”

Surely, I thought I could make Liz see the light. “That song and that melody,” I told her,” have been cornerstones of our Seders for all of our children’s lives.”

“I have no problem with the melody,” she said, “but those lyrics are so violent. I am just not comfortable exposing my children to them.”

So, I sat down to write kinder, gentler lyrics to Chad Gadya. And that Passover we sang:

 

Chad Gadya, Chad Gadya

 Refrain: (at the beginning of the song and after every verse)

My father bought for two zuzim

Chad Gadya, Chad Gadya

 Then came the cat and nuzzled the kid …

 

Then came the dog and licked the cat that nuzzled the kid …

Then came the stick that was fetched by the dog that licked the cat that nuzzled the kid …

Then came the fire and warmed the stick that was fetched by the dog that licked the cat that nuzzled the kid …

Then came the water and quenched the fire that warmed the stick that was fetched by the dog that licked the cat that nuzzled the kid …

Then came the ox and drank the water that quenched the fire that warmed the stick that was fetched by the dog that licked the cat that nuzzled the kid …

Then came the butcher and fed the ox that drank the water that quenched the fire that warmed the stick that was fetched by the dog that licked the cat that nuzzled the kid …

Then came the Angel of Light and smiled at the butcher that fed the ox that drank the water that quenched the fire that warmed the stick that was fetched by the dog that licked the cat that nuzzled the kid …

Then came the Holy and Eternal One and blessed the Angel of Light that smiled at the butcher that fed the ox that drank the water that quenched the fire that warmed the stick that was fetched by the dog that licked the cat that nuzzled the kid

My father bought for two zuzim

Chad Gadya, Chad Gadya

 If I had only written these lyrics to make Liz happy, Dayenu, “It would have been enough” to make me glad I wrote them. But it turned out that the rest of my family liked them too.

And so now we have the option to replace the metaphor for the violent struggles of our people and the hope that one day God will make everything right with a kinder gentler hope: that one day all of humanity will realize the banality of war and bloodshed, that nations and individuals will learn to live together in mutual harmony, respect and affirmation. It is a good note on which to end the Seder.

 

 

 

 

Do We Really Need an Orange on the Seder Plate?

~ slfuchs ~ 9 Comments

In a little more than three weeks Passover will be here, and sociologists tell us that more Jews will participate in some form of Passover Seder than will participate in any other religious event during the year!

The Seder is the most successful pedagogical tool in Jewish history largely  because it stimulates all of our senses: sight, touch, taste, hearing and smell.

In addition to the traditional symbols many will include an orange on their Seder plates.

The most prominent myth behind this custom is that years ago, a man confronted  Professor Susannah Heschel and told her,”The idea of women rabbis makes as much sense as an orange on a Seder plate.”

Today it is impossible to think of  meaningful non-Orthodox Jewish life without the enormous contributions women rabbis have made since the ordination of Sally Priesand in 1972. Personally, I would prefer to retire the orange and spend serious time at the Seder discussing the vital role women played in the Exodus story.

This conversation will do much more than an orange to teach the vital role women have played in Jewish history and to stimulate them to think of what role they might play in shaping a proud Jewish future.

Instead of an orange I want my daughters and granddaughters to know that without the actions of no fewer than six women heroes, Moses never would have gotten so far as to say to Pharaoh, “Let my people go!” I want every Seder participant to know that without these six women the Exodus could not have taken place, and we would have no Passover to celebrate!

Shiphrah and Puah were humble midwives. Pharaoh ordered them to kill every baby boy that emerged from his mother’s womb. The most powerful man on earth – one worshipped as a god — gave them a direct order! The midwives, though, answered to a higher authority than Pharaoh. Their bravery rings across the millennia as an answer to those Nazis’ who claimed they had no choice but to kill Jews. They were only following orders. Shiphrah and Puah teach us we always have a choice.

Yocheved, Moses’ mother, hid her baby in defiance of Pharaoh’s decree. Then she placed him in a wicker basket and floated him among the reeds of the Nile. What courage that took, but her gamble paid off!

Miriam, Moses’ sister watched the basket from afar. When Pharaoh’s daughter drew it out of the water, Miriam runs to her and suggests the baby’s own mother as its nurse. In so doing she saved her brother’s life.

The heroic role of Pharaoh’s daughter also should not escape our attention. She defied her father’s decree and saved Moses. For this she received the privilege of giving Moses’ his name, and she herself received the name Bit-yah, which means “daughter of the Lord.” (Va-yikra Rabbah 1:3; B, Megillah 13A).

The final female hero of Passover is Zipporah, Moses’ wife. She circumcised their son Eleazar when apparently Moses had neglected to do so (Exodus 4:24-26). The passage really does not fit into the flow of the story, so the rabbis could have interpreted it any way they wished. They could have deemed it crucial or inconsequential. The chose to to teach us that God would have killed Moses had Zipporah not intervened and circumcised their son!

The heroism of the women who made Passover possible is a strong and accurate answer to those who claim that women always play a secondary or subordinate role in Jewish thinking. An orange does not make their case. Telling their story does.

Savor Every Joy for We Never Know When it May Suddenly End

~ slfuchs ~ 3 Comments

( A thought about Parashat Shemini, Leviticus 9:1-11:47)

After a lifetime in his younger brother Moses’ shadow, Aaron was finally having his moment! Moses led the people from slavery. Moses received Torah on Mt Sinai. Aaron was always “the second banana.”

But for eight glorious days all of that was behind him as he reveled in the ceremony establishing him as the high priest of the people.

And then in an instant the celebration turned to ashes.

Aaron’s sons Nadav and Abihu offered “esh zarah” “alien fire” (Leviticus 10:1) on the altar of the Eternal One and in an instant the fire consumed them.

Why?

Midrashic and modern commentators offer several explanations:

They wished Moses and Aaron dead so they could take over the leadership of the people (B. Sanhedrin 52a).
They worshipped idols.
They were irreverent.
They were drunk
They attempted—unauthorized–to enter the holy of holies.

But no explanation satisfies.

We will never know why Nadav and Abihu died but the account teaches us a vital lesson illustrated by this story told by Rabbi Jack Riemer!

A weeping man lingered at his wife’s gravesite after her tragic death. In time the rabbi urged him to return to the car waiting to take him home.

“You don’t understand, Rabbi,” the man weeped, “I loved her!”

“I know you loved her,” the rabbi answered…”

“I loved her,” the man interrupted, “and once, I almost told her.”

Tragedy can strike any one of us in an instant.

In a moment our joy can turn to sorrow and our dreams to ashes. No amount of money, power or fame protects us from that possibility.

The tragedy of Nadav and Abihu urges us to embrace and savor every moment of joy and love that life offers because none of us can know what tomorrow will bring.

Trump May Be ISIS’ Legacy!

~ slfuchs ~ 9 Comments

It is a fear growing larger in the pit of my stomach.

If between now and November President Obama and the free world cannot stop  ISIS’ terror and thwart their ability to put fear in our hearts, the prime beneficiary of that failure may be Donald Trump.

In the circles I travel no one (maybe I should say almost no one) is going to support or vote for Donald Trump. My feelings about him have only intensified since December 6 when I posted the essay about him that you can easily search for on this blog.

So what I write here is a fear not a hope, a nightmare not a dream.

If ISIS’ terror continues unchecked, whom do you think Joe and Jane Sixpack (or Sixshooter) among American voters are going to believe has the better chance of bringing this scourge to an end:

Rational, analytical Hillary or tough talkin’ Trump?

Many have compared the Trump phenomenon to Hitler in the twenties? It is a scary comparison, but it is not without merit. Hitler played on the anger and shame of Germany’s defeat in World War I.He promised strong, firm leadership to relieve Germany’s pain. He found scapegoats at which to target the people’s anger, and we all know how that turned out.

Trump is doing similar things. He chides Obama’s “weakness” in not “even” being able to defeat ISIS. He makes Muslim and Mexican immigrants his scapegoat just as Hitler did with Jews, homosexuals, Jehovah’s Witnesses and gypsies.

He promises to make America great again just as Hitler promised to restore Deutschland to glory!

He knows Americans are in Pain over ISIS, and he promises he has the answer!

We can wring our hands all we want. We can call him a bigot, a buffoon and a bully. He is all of those things and more. But if the free world cannot contain ISIS’ reign of terror, Donald Trump may well be (and my fingers tremble as I type the words) the next president of the United States.

The worst thing we can do is to think it will never happen!