Rachel Barenblat's Blog, page 208

Election week Torah

If, after you have entered the land which Adonai your God has assigned to you, and taken possession of it and settled in it, you decide, "I will set a king over me, as do all the nations about me," you shall be free to set a king over yourself, one chosen by Adonai your God. Be sure to set as king over yourself one of your own people; you must not set a foreigner over you, one who is not your kinsman. Moreover, he shall not keep many horses or send people back to Egypt to add to his horses, since Adonai has warned you, "You must not go back that way again." And he shall not have many wives, lest his heart go astray; nor shall he amass silver and gold to excess.

When he is seated on his royal throne, he shall have a copy of this Teaching written for him on a scroll by the levitical priests. Let it remain with him and let him read in it all his life, so that he may learn to revere the Lord his God, to observe faithfully every word of this Teaching as well as these laws. Thus he will not act haughtily toward his fellows or deviate from the Instruction to the right or to the left, to the end that he and his descendants may reign long in the midst of Israel. (Deuteronomy 17:14-20)

I decided yesterday morning to modify the lesson I had been planning to teach to our fifth through seventh graders, our b'nei mitzvah prep students. We still did some of what was originally on the syllabus for the day, but in honor of this week's Presidential election, we also took some time to read and discuss the short Torah passage above.

I was curious to hear how my students would respond to this short Torah teaching. Would they interpret this passage from Torah as favoring the idea of appointing a king, or not? (I tend to read it as begrudging acceptance -- it might be preferable not to have a king, because it's too easy to get attached to human sovereignty and power, but once the children of Israel have a nation-state of their own they'll inevitably want a government like everybody else's, so here are the Torah's stipulations about how the ruler should be chosen.)

How would my students understand Torah's qualifications for a king? Which of those qualifications still resonate for us today? What might be a modern equivalent of keeping too many warhorses, or of sending people back into slavery in order to add to the might of the army? What is the Teaching, or Instruction, which our modern leaders study and interpret and live by?

And is any of this relevant to us in an era and a place where we vote for a President instead of living in the old system where the power was shared between a King, the priests, and the prophets? My answer to that last question is, of course, yes -- there are always ways to find relevancy and meaning in Torah, even as times change. But I was interested to know how, and whether, my students would relate this passage to the process of choosing the American President.

The kids settled first on the matter that a king of Israel needed to be an Israelite, not a foreigner. We talked a bit about the extent to which different peoples worshipped different gods in those days, and they drew the connection between this idea in Torah and the American system in which only native-born citizens can run for President. We talked a bit about the matter of warfare and wealth, then and now. And then we talked about the question of whether or not, in our modern paradigm where we elect our government, kids ought to be able to vote. (My class's opinions were divided on that one.)

I'm curious to hear your responses, too. Does this bit of Torah have any bearing on how you think about our government today?

 

 

Related reading:

Elections, Kings, Wars, & Justice by Rabbi Arthur Waskow, The Shalom Center, 2008. "The perek hamelekh (passage on the king; Deut 17: 14-20), puts constitutional limits on royal power: limits that speak profoundly and precisely to the present crisis of power in America."

YU Torah on Elections, a collection of texts about the Torah's concept of democracy, the responsibility of voters, the responsibility of elected officials, etc. Read it online, and/or download a PDF or TXT file to keep.

A Prayer for Voting by Rabbi Sami Barth, which I've shared (with permission) on my G+. "On this day we are called to discern and choose, to embrace a vision and cast our vote..."

A poem, and a few links, for Election Day

Four years ago, I wrote this Torah poem on Election Day. That year, Election Day fell during the week when we read parashat Lech Lecha, in which God tells Avram to go forth from his native land and his father's house to the land which God will show him. (This poem now appears in 70 faces, my collection of Torah poems, published 2011 by Phoenicia Publishing.)

 

FIRST STEP (LECH LECHA)

 

It's not going to be easy.
All of your roadmaps are wrong.

That was another country:
those lakes have dried up

and new groundwater is welling
in places you won't expect.

You'll begin the journey in fog
destination unknown, impossible.

Don't be surprised by tears.
This right here is holy ground.

Take a deep breath and turn away
from cynicism and despair

listen to the voice from on high
and deep within, the one that says

I'm calling you to a place
which I will show you

and take the first small step
into the surprising sun.

 

I still find the poem meaningful as an expression of Torah and of my own experience of entering the voting booth and casting a vote for hope and change. Even if we're not reading Lech Lecha this week (we're not; this year, Election Day falls during the week of parashat Chayyei Sarah), there's something about the act of voting which feels to me very lech-lecha, very much a journey into hope for new possibilities.

Also worth reading today: Jay Michaelson's The Nexus of Spirituality and Politics in Zeek.

And: Rabbi David Seidenberg's Prayer for Voting, which I shared here four years ago.

May the outcome of today's US elections bring blessing to us and to the world.

Postponing my visit to Slifka

I posted a while back about a pair of events I've been planning to do at the Slifka Center for Jewish Life at Yale University -- a lunch gathering with students, and a 4pm poetry reading / tea / Q-and-A about poetry and midrash and Torah and so forth.

I'm still looking very forward to those events, but I've had to postpone them; a congregational funeral has arisen, and funerals trump everything else on the docket.

I'll post again here when I know the rescheduled date. Thanks for understanding, all.

 

Edited to add: it looks like we'll do these two events on Wednesday, December 5. My apologies to everyone in the Slifka community and everyone who was planning to come to one or both of these events this week; I hope to see you next month instead!

Resources and information about African migrants in Israel

Since I referenced this summer's violence against African refugees in Tel Aviv in my Rosh Hashanah sermon Being Change, a few people have asked for more information about African migrants in Israel. Here is a collection of (English-language) resources: an overview, some news links, some opinion essays, and some nonprofit organizations in Israel doing good work in this area.

Overview:
Israel houses a large number of African migrants (most estimates say that the African population in Israel is between 60,000 and 70,000). Most of those migrants come from Eritrea and Sudan, and most are in the country illegally, which means that they cannot obtain work visas.

Some argue that the Africans who enter Israel illegally (sometimes called "infiltrators," which is a term with a specific history -- see Infiltrated by history, The Daily Beast) are linked to an increase in crime, that Israel does not have the resources to support them, and that they should be detained and/or deported. Others argue that the Africans who enter Israel illegally are refugees fleeing persecution and seeking a better life, and that Israel has both a legal and an ethical obligation to aid them. (I also know people who believe both of those at once: that the influx of migrants is more than Israel can support, and that they are refugees who deserve aid.)

Recent months have seen an increase in incidents of violence against Africans. Some blame the violence against Africans on crime committed by Africans, and others attribute the violence against Africans to general anti-immigrant sentiment or to poor economic conditions which contribute to social unrest. Also this year, Israel amended its 1954 Prevention of
Infiltration Law, which now permits Israel to detain migrants for three or more years. (See Migrants in prison protest 'infiltrators' law, Jerusalem Post.) A Jerusalem district court judge issued a preliminary injunction on October 12 banning the summary arrests of Sudanese refugees (see Court prohibits detention of Sudanese refugees days before mass arrests begin, +972); another ruling on this is expected soon.

For more information: The Refugee Situation in Israel (a page provided by the African Refugee Development Center); FAQ on Violence Against Asylum Seekers in Israel (that page is courtesy of the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society); African Refugees in Israel (Rabbis for Human Rights).

Articles about the situation:
Please note that these articles, which aim to be news rather than opinion pieces, paint a range of different pictures of the situation.


Sharp rise in African migration into Israel, by Shira Rubin, The Times of Israel. "The number of African asylum seekers crossing the Israeli-Egyptian border reached a record high in May, the Israeli Population and Immigration Authority revealed on Thursday."
Israeli Anger over 'African' Crime Wave, The Forward. "A crime wave blamed on Africans, including two recent rapes, has stoked
long-standing hostility toward the country’s estimated 60,000 illegal
African immigrants and sparked an ugly wave of retaliatory violence
against them."
African Migrants Attacked in Tel Aviv, The New York Times. "After a rally demanding the immediate expulsion of migrants seeking
asylum in Israel led to a spate of attacks on Africans in Tel Aviv late
Wednesday, political leaders condemned the violence but vowed to crack
down on illegal immigration."
Israel confronts a flood of African refugees, by Ruth Marcus, The Washington Post. "Israel, as government officials here like to point out, is the only first-world country that you can walk to from Africa. This geographic reality has produced a flood — 60,000 in the last seven years — of refugees who make their way first to Egypt and then through the Sinai desert to Israel’s southern border."
Netanyahu: Israel could be overrun by African "infiltrators," Ha'aretz. "Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu said on Sunday that the phenomenon of illegal infiltrators from Africa is extremely serious and threatens Israel's social fabric and national security."
Yishai Warns African Infiltrators Crushing Israel, Arutz Sheva. "Likud Knesset Member Danny Danon, chairman of the Knesset lobby dealing with the problem of infiltrators, recently stated, “They are a blow to the country, and we need to deport them before it is too late."
State using Infiltrators' Law in place of Evidence, Jerusalem Post. "The Executive Director of the Hotline for Migrant Workers, Reut Michaeli, said on Thursday that the state is using the so-called 'infiltrators law' as a sort of administrative detention for illegal migrants who they do not have enough evidence to convict of crimes."
Yishai: I Sound Racist - But I'm Not, Arutz Sheva. "Minister of Interior: 'Infiltrators and Palestinians will bring a quick end to the Zionist dream.'"
Eritreans protest Negev detention facility, Jerusalem Post. "Rallying under slogan 'Israel, don’t put us in prison, again', migrants protest facility meant to house thousands of Africans."


Opinion pieces: These next links are to op-eds / opinion pieces, which -- like the news articles -- paint a range of pictures of the situation.

For an ethical African migrants policy in Israel, global Jewry can help, by Chaim Landau, Ha'aretz. "The Israeli government, if it is to uphold both its Jewish and international obligations, should form a committee tasked with creating ethical policy on the issue of African migrants, with leading experts from Israel and the entire Jewish world."
The strangers among us, by Naomi Ragen, Jerusalem Post. "I am almost ashamed to admit it, but I am looking at the roundup of African asylum-seekers with an equal mixture of heartbreak and relief."
Israel's refugee hypocrisy, by Gershom Gorenberg, The American Prospect. "Its mythology is grounded in exile and return, so why won't Israel grant refugee status to North Africans in need?"
Southern Tel Aviv Residents: We Live in Constant Fear, Arutz Sheva. "Arutz Sheva visits the neighborhoods of southern Tel Aviv, hears from
local residents who live in fear because of illegal infiltrators."
Ethiopian-Israeli Jews, mistaken for African migrant workers, feel racism's pain, JTA. "When violent riots against African migrant workers erupted in south Tel
Aviv recently, a mob attacked Hanania Wanda, a Jew of Ethiopian origin,
mistaking him for a Sudanese migrant worker."
Israel Can't Solve Africa's Problems, Commentary. "Those who are quick to accuse Israel of racism should remember that it
went to great trouble and expense to facilitate the mass immigration of
tens of thousands of black Jews from Ethiopia in the past generation."
Addressing the Plight of the African Refugees in Israel, by Rabbi Shmuly Yanklowitz, The Jewish Journal. "As Jews, we are a nation of immigrants commanded to love and protect the stranger in our midst. This imperative is highest when we have sovereignty. It is not only our historical condition but also our eternal identity as the children of Abraham, the paradigmatic stranger."
If you do only one thing for Israel this year, let it be this, by Bradley Burston, Ha'aretz. "The asylum seekers want nothing more than to live productive lives and contribute to this society. Their children are as Israeli as anyone, they belong in the only home they have ever known... If you do only one thing for Israel this year, let it be this: Send a message. Write a letter."
Israel's African Problem, a podcast at Tablet magazine. "Israeli officials argue that the deportations are necessary because the migrants are a burden and a threat to the country’s Jewish majority. Critics say the policy violates human rights, not to mention Jewish values..."
The Africans in Tel Aviv and Jewish Values, by Dov Lipman, The Times of Israel. "The issue of the African 'infiltrators' in Israel is very complicated. The arguments for deportation of illegal immigrants who are not employed and are committing crimes certainly resonate with a large percentage of the population. Arguments about providing refuge for these individuals on humanitarian grounds certainly tug at the heart. But, I have yet to hear anyone discuss the situation from the perspective of core Jewish values."
+972 Magazine coverage - Asylum Seekers, +972. This online magazine, named after Israel's country code, features new reporting and opinion pieces about this aspect of Israeli life and culture regularly. This link goes to the collection of their coverage of this issue.

If you are interested in making a donation to a nonprofit organization which works in this arena, here are some which you might consider:

New Israel Fund

New Israel Fund is the leading organization committed to equality and democracy for all Israelis. We believe that Israel can live up to its founders’ vision of a state that ensures complete equality of social and political rights to all its inhabitants, without regard to religion, race, gender or national identity.
Our values drive our work. We fight inequality, injustice and extremism because we understand that justice is the precondition for a successful democracy — and the only lasting road to peace.

African Refugee Development Center

The African Refugee Development Center (ARDC) is a non-profit organization founded in 2004 by refugees and Israeli citizens to assist, support and empower refugees and asylum seekers in Israel. The ARDC seeks to ensure access to basic social services, to facilitate integration and promote self-sufficiency. It also advocates for the rights of refugees and asylum seekers and for a humane and fair Israeli asylum policy. The ARDC's work includes individual counseling, humanitarian aid, education, community development, awareness raising and policy initiatives. Through the ARDC, diverse communities are drawn together to promote understanding and cooperation amongst refugees and the broader population.

MigrantHealth:IL

In collaboration with the Tel Aviv Refugee Clinic, we employ nurses from within the migrant community to improve the health of this population. These nurses are uniquely qualified for working in the migrant community as they are multilingual, highly trained in their home countries, eager to work, and already have their fingers on the ‘pulse’ of their community. (This group recently completed initial fundraising via IndieGoGo and has now hired five Eritrean nurses to tend to the health of the largely Eritrean refugee population in Tel Aviv.)

We Are Refugees / אנו פליטים

Israeli Foundation for Legal Aid to Refugees, Asylum Seekers and the Stateless. "We are Refugees" is a non-profit organization founded on October 2010 by a group of lawyers who represent asylum seekers and refugees in Israel on a pro-bono basis. These lawyers donate their time in order to represent refugees in the Israeli court system. See also The Refugees' Rights Forum, which consists of eight human rights organizations active in promoting the rights of refugees and asylum seekers in Israel, as well as implementing activities on their behalf.

I welcome links to more articles and resources -- please feel free to share more in comments.

(Cross-posted to my From the Rabbi blog.)

This week's portion: Sodom and Gomorrah, Hurricane Sandy, and God

Here's the d'var Torah I offered on Friday evening at Shabbat Across the Berkshires, and in modified form on Shabbat morning at my shul. Crossposted to my From the Rabbi blog.

 

This week, in parashat Vayera, God decides to punish the wicked, declaring, "The outrage of Sodom and Gomorrah is so great, and their sin so grave!" And Avraham argues, "Will You sweep away the innocent along with the guilty?"

The two angels who had recently visited Avraham go to Sodom. They've hardly arrived when men swarm Lot's house and demand, "Where are the men who came to you tonight? Bring them out to us, that we may be intimate with them."

Lot says, "I beg you, my friends, do not commit such a wrong." So far, so good. But then he becomes abhorrent in our eyes when he offers his two daughters instead.

This is the sin of these two infamous places. The next day the towns are destroyed.

This is one way we used to understand destruction raining down from the sky, and our responsibility for that destruction. People make evil choices, and God metes out punishment. In this story, all those who suffer are wicked. Avraham cannot find even the single minyan of righteous souls whose presence would have caused God to spare the towns.

This week too, destruction has rained down from the sky. Not sulfurous fire, but torrential rains and hurricane-force winds.

Here in the Berkshires, Hurricane Sandy toppled trees, leaving thousands without power. Many of us had to keep our kids home from school, brush our teeth with bottled water, eat all the ice cream in our freezers before it spoiled. We're the lucky ones.

The damage in New York and Atlantic City beggars belief. You've probably seen the same photos I have: water flooding subway tunnels, emergency vehicles submerged by the seas, buildings washed away or destroyed by fire.

There are those who interpret storms like this as the wrath of God striking down the wicked: the gamblers of Atlantic City, the queer community in New York. This is toxic theology, and when it is aimed at those who are gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender it is as destructive to hearts and souls as the storm is to property.

What created Hurricane Sandy? A set of systemic causes, a welter of economic and environmental choices, made over time by wealthy nations and corporations. The water along the Atlantic coast this year is 5 degrees higher than average, which increases the likelihood of "superstorms" like Sandy. And yet climate change wasn't mentioned at all in this year's presidential debates.

A storm like this one is a reminder of God's infinite and awesome power -- and also of our own role in creating a planetary system where ice is melting, currents are changing, and a summer of searing drought is followed by wind and rain we can't help but fear.

Our paradigm has shifted. We reject the theology which holds that God sends disasters to punish us. But we can still find meaning in the confluence of this storm and this week's parsha.

The sin of Sodom was brutalization of the powerless. None of us would condone those acts, but we're part of a global system in which people with power make economic and environmental choices which impact the vulnerable. Developed countries, and the wealthy worldwide, use more than our share of earth's resources; developing countries, and the poor worldwide, bear more than their share of destruction.

Hurricane Sandy killed 70 people in the Caribbean, destroying 70 percent of the crops in southern Haiti and leaving some 200,000 homeless. And the people of Haiti didn't necessarily have it easy before the storm hit. Global warming, rising seas, and strengthening storms impact poor countries more than they impact rich ones.

Here's a small-scale example closer to our home: last year when Tropical Storm Irene struck the Berkshires, it was the residents of the Spruces trailer park in Williamstown -- an elder community, mostly living on limited income -- who were rendered homeless, not those like me who can afford to live on higher ground.

Jewish tradition calls us to be the hands of God in caring for one another. To feed and clothe the widow and the orphan, those who are powerless. To permit the hungry to glean. On these matters, Torah's voice rings clear.

And this is a test which the communities of Gomorrah and Sodom fail. Dramatically. Lot is unwilling to give up his two visitors, but he offers his daughters instead -- a calculus I cannot imagine.

When and how are we complicit in pushing away the damage which our choices may create? Anyone would agree that it's wrong to sacrifice one's daughters to an angry mob, but does it seem okay to allow pollution to flow downriver to someone else's town, or to allow the poorest to build their homes on flood plains or behind the levees which are in the weakest repair?

The tough news is that we're all responsible for one another. The good news is that we're all responsible for one another. There's always something we can do.

There are an infinity of ways we can care for one another, both globally and locally. We can ensure that we work to heal the devastation of storms like this one not only when they hit our region, but also when they damage lives in nations we may not know. We can support nonprofit organizations which do good work to care for those in need.

One such organization is Jewish Federation of the Berkshires, which organized tonight's county-wide celebration of Shabbat. I know that my congregation depends on Federation to keep our religious school afloat. Federation also delivers meals to homebound seniors, provides social services, supports the PJ library which provides free Jewish books to children. Federation's work has a great impact, and we can each contribute our time and our dollars to help it continue.

And, of course, we can support our firefighters, policemen, nurses, utility line crews: the unionized workers who every day answer the call of duty to care for those in need.

When God announces plans to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah, Avraham asks, "Will You destroy the innocent along with the guilty?"

My generation has grown up with the image of Earth seen from the moon -- that beautiful green-blue globe suspended in star-speckled space -- imprinted on our hearts. We may not believe in a God Who watches every action and decides who to punish and who to spare. But we know that our world is in our hands, and that our choices impact the innocent along with the guilty, every day.

We have responsibility to the world at large to act justly. To make decisions which will decrease our impact on global climate. To care for those whose lives have been devastated by a storm like Sandy, and to take steps to ensure that those who are vulnerable aren't in harm's way.

I don't believe that God causes hurricanes, but I believe that we can find God in a storm like this one. Reverend Kate Braestrup teaches that we find God in the helping hands of those who cook a meal, bring a casserole, saw through a fallen tree.

God is in the nurses who carried NICU babies down flights of stairs in a New York City hospital, by flashlight, manually inflating small pumps for every breath.

God is in those who work tirelessly to restore power, to care for the sick, to house the homeless. In the face of a disaster like this one, we find God in us.

In coming days may we be willing, and able, to care for those in need here and everywhere.

May we open both our hearts and our wallets to those who are feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, rebuilding what has fallen.

And may we find ourselves galvanized in our desire to co-create a world in which everyone is safe, and no one need fear violence, and no one's home is ever again washed away.

And let us say: Amen.

Early November in an image and five lines

Early sunset in early November. Five years ago.

The fingertips on my left hand ache faintly this afternoon. When I haven't led services in two weeks, my guitar calluses begin to wear away.

It felt good to pray in our sanctuary again. We were only seven, this morning, but it's a gift to be able to sing with six people I have known for years.

Driving home I smiled at the line, stretching across the leafless hills, where the purple of distant bare trees gives way to the frosting of high-altitude snow.

I am grateful for the quiet whirr of the washing machine rotating our clothes, the even quieter hiss of wood crackling in the fireplace.

Even though I think I'm prepared, tomorrow I'll be startled by how early the sun goes down.

Visiting the nursing home

Late morning I go to visit a congregant who's recuperating in a nursing home / rehab facility. I call ahead to make sure it's a good time, and the staff tell me that it is. When I arrive, my congregant is sitting in a kind of parlor, where some fifteen or so elderly folks are singing hymns along with a cassette tape.

Slowly I realize that there is no standing furniture in the parlor. Even the flowered recliners which appear at first glance to be easy chairs are wheelchairs. Their inhabitants are sound asleep, mouths open. Some of them mumble words I can't make out. My congregant sleeps, too, even though several people are singing with gusto. "Amazing Grace." "When the Saints Come Marching In."

I murmur quiet prayers. The Mi Sheberach prayer which asks God to bring complete healing, a renewal of body and a renewal of spirit. A prayer I learned years ago from my teacher Rabbi Shaya Isenberg: may this person be blessed with simcha, joy; may he be blessed with shalom, peace; may he be blessed with refuah, healing; may he be blessed with whatever is best.

As a nurse collects the xeroxed hymn handouts, a parade of children with Halloween masks marches into the room. They make a quick circuit, waving to everyone and saying happy halloween. Most of the residents beam at them. One little boy, lagging behind the rest, enters the room and then takes the circuit almost at a run. "He wants to get away from all these ladies," chortles one white-haired woman, amused.

Behind me there's a man muttering that everyone can kiss his ass. The staff chide him: that's not a nice way to talk! Don't say that to people! but he doesn't seem to want to stop, so they wheel him to a different part of the room. Someone turns up the television, which is playing an old Western. The closed-captioning scrolls across the screen shortly before each line is delivered, giving me a peculiar sense of déja vu.

I don't want to wake my congregant. Maybe it's because I'm the parent of a three-year-old, but I can't bear to wake someone who is peacefully sleeping. He is breathing easy and his face is unworried in repose. I murmur to him that I am there and that I am holding him in prayer. I whisper a few more prayers for healing, for joy, for peace, for whatever is best. I pray for my congregant, and for the others who are sleeping, and for the man who's still grumbling that he can say "kiss my ass" if he wants to.

When I leave the nursing home, I feel curiously less anxious than I did when I went in. The aftermath of the storm has not changed. The coming election, and the nasty rhetoric around it, have not changed. But I feel I'm on more solid ground. We live, and if we are lucky, we grow old. We care for each other. We love one another. What else is there, in the end?

Two prayers after the hurricane

These two prayers have come across various Jewish Renewal email lists to which I belong. I share them here for anyone who needs them, with gratitude to my friends and teachers who composed them. Please feel free to share / use in your own community (with attribution.)

The first is by Rabbi Sami Barth, with whom I studied both liturgy and Codes some years back. The accompanying image shows a member of the New York fire department in the Breezy Point section of Queens, taken a couple of days ago. Photo by Shannon Stapleton/Reuters. [Source.]

Prayer in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy

by Rabbi Samuel Barth

Esa enai el leharim – me’ayin yavo ezri? I lift my eyes to the high places- where will my help come from?

Your Power God, Creator of the world, is manifest in the winds of the hurricane and the destruction they have caused. We turn to You to pray for the wisdom and strength of those responsible for preparation and rescue, for administration and co-ordination, the first and last responders. May they find the strength and courage the insight and judgment, the love of humanity to do their best to bring our wisdom and technology to alleviate suffering, to heal injury and to restore the services and infrastructure upon which our lives are built. And may we all find ourselves ready to give support, encouragement, love and gifts as needed.

Ezri me’im Adonai, oseh shamayim va’arets; My help comes from Adonai Who made the heavens and the earth (--Psalm 121; 1)

And the other is by Rabbi David Ingber of Romemu in New York City. The image is of a fallen tree bisecting the main building at Isabella Freedman Jewish Retreat Center, where I have spent many happy retreats (some of them with Reb David, in fact.)

 

Prayer After the Hurricane

by Rabbi David Ingber

Source of all Life, soothe hearts aching with pain and loss. Source of Compassion, support all of those who are confused and bewildered in the wake of this shocking storm. Mysterious One, move within all of our hearts to help and support one another as we comfort and care for those who are in need. Master of All Healing, heal all who desperately need a refuah shleimah, a full healing in body, heart, mind and spirit. Ana El Na, Refah Nah Lanu - Please loving Source, please heal us.

 

A (slightly late) poem for the yahrzeit of my Biblical namesake

Mother Rachel

how long did you labor

contractions slamming you

against the rocks

Benjamin's first cry

your last breath

beneath the swelling moon

the hidden sages

call you Shekhinah

motherhood incarnate

your death, Her descent

into the long night

of exile

rest in your tomb

dry as a seedpod

watching from the road

the root of spring

you wait for redemption

to flower in us

The yahrzeit -- death-anniversary -- of the Biblical matriarch Rachel was a few days ago. It always falls around this time of year on the Gregorian calendar, making it relatively near to Halloween.

I've always been fascinated by Rachel, and by midrash and teachings relating to Rachel. (Here's some fairly basic material about Rachel at Jewish Virtual Library.) After my miscarriage, one of my teachers gave me a piece of red thread which had been wound seven times around Rachel's tomb -- a Jewish folk-blessing for fertility and safe pregnancy.

This poem owes a great deal to the teachings of Rabbi Jill Hammer. See Cheshvan | TelShemesh, particularly the sections on 11 Cheshvan (Rachel's death-anniversary) and Other Paths.

All feedback welcome. Happy Halloween to those who celebrate.

Susan Palwick's "Brief Visits"

I think I started reading Susan Palwick's blog after I finished my intensive unit of CPE (Clinical Pastoral Education) at Albany Medical Center. I did my unit of CPE during my first year of rabbinic school, so this was a while ago. I remember that I came to hospital chaplaincy work with deep trepidation: would I be up to the task? What if I couldn't do, or be, what was needed? To my surprise, the work transformed and uplifted me, maybe especially my nighttime visits to the emergency department or E.D.

And then a friend pointed me to Susan's work, and in reading her poems, I was thrust right back into the hospital experience again, with both awe and joy. After finding her blog, I wrote here:

A friend pointed me to a blog post I'm profoundly glad to have read: The first four ED sonnets, a quartet of sonnets written by Susan Palwick
about hospital chaplaincy work. If you enjoy formal poetry -- and
especially if you have any connection with chaplaincy work, or its
cousins social work, counseling, and medicine -- don't miss these.

(Here's my whole 2006 post about Susan's poems: poems from the E.D.)

Some six years later, those sonnets -- part of an extraordinary book-length sonnet cycle -- form the collection Brief Visits: Sonnets from a Volunteer Chaplain, published by the Texas Review Press.

I was blessed to be asked to offer a blurb for the back of the book, perhaps because of my own (far less ambitious) small booklet of hospital chaplaincy poems chaplainbook (laupe house press, 2006.) For the back of Susan's book, I wrote:

Susan Palwick's poems remind me what I most love about hospital ministry -- in her words, 'story understood / as sacrament.' Here are the small mercies and outsized emotions of a night in the E.D., the infinity of human stories unfolding. 'These small rooms bestow / huge gifts,' she writes, 'God's strangeness shining from each tale(.)' These patients are fortunate to have Susan's presence, a manifestation of God's caring hands and listening ear; and we are fortunate to have her poems, which encapsulate our sweet, painful, poignant human lives.

I'm not sure I can offer a better review than what I said in that paragraph. There are so many shining moments of laughter and grief in this collection: the patient admitting "I don't know how to pray / right now," the realization that in the emergency room people suddenly become grateful for outcomes they would never have wished for ("'he's on a ventilator' better news / than 'nothing worked,'") her description of the hospital chapel ("it's almost always empty when I come/ I'm almost always empty, which is why / I come") which reminds me so much of the hospital chapel I used to visit sometimes at AMC.

These are powerful and poignant poems. Reading them, I feel lifted out of myself in much the way I used to feel when I walked the hospital's halls, in much the way I feel when I enter into real I/Thou relationship with a congregant or a stranger who seeks pastoral care. I recommend this collection highly. If you're clergy, if you're a chaplain -- or if you've ever felt mortal, alone, uplifted, or afraid. Hospitals are holy places because there we connect with some of our deepest human experiences: birth and death, mortality and fear, joy and exaltation. These poems bring all of those to life.

Get the book online: Brief Visits on Amazon.