I arrived back in Memphis a few hours ago and wanted to share a few thoughts from my time away.
Last Friday I flew to Charlotte to spend Shabbat with a lovely Reform community in Rock Hill, South Carolina.We had a nice Friday night service together, as well as a Saturday night Havdallah/potluck/evening of storytelling and music. It was a joy to be with them, to bring a rabbinic presence to a community which doesn’t often get to experience one, and I’m grateful to all who lead/took part in services here at Beth Sholom while I was away.
On Shabbat morning I had the rare opportunity to sleep later than I normally do, as they decided not to do a Torah study and focus on the Saturday night program instead. However, my hosts wanted to make sure that I was taken care of and it was inconceivable to them that I not be entertained on Shabbat. In my emails with them, I explained that I don’t spend money on Shabbat and didn’t want to do anything commercial, though I’d be more than happy to spend some time in nature.
We did have a nice picnic lunch and a walk in a park (during which time I learned all I ever wanted to know about the wonders of Pokemon Go). On our way to the park, they told me we’d be going to a museum first, at which point I had to decide whether to just go along with it and not offend my hosts or inform them that I wasn’t entirely comfortable with that. Not wanting to make them feel bad, I decided on the former. We walked around the Museum of the New South, which tells the history of Charlotte, which is remarkably similar to that of Memphis. The museum focused on the cotton industry, textiles, banking, segregation/race relations/sit-ins, and Charlotte’s growth of late. I enjoyed my time there, even if I wouldn’t ordinarily go to a museum on Shabbat (though if the tickets are prepaid, there’s no real objection to doing so, and when I was in school in New York I met more than a few Jews who would prepay for museums and visit them on Shabbat afternoon). Admittedly, when my host went up to check us in, I heard that she and her family had season passes, and I don’t want to know if she paid for mine on Shabbat or not. I did my best not to hear the conversation….
In any event, there was one information panel in the museum that caught my eye. They had water fountains at the museum, with signs above them labeling one as for whites and one for coloreds. The one for whites was much nicer looking than the one for coloreds, which of course was a source of frustration amongst the African-American community (and presumably others who understood the injustice of it). In the years when integration was beginning to happen, there was a great deal of resistance amongst the white community. In the museum, they told us of one store owner, whose name I wish I remembered, who was against segregation but who needed to keep his customers and couldn’t speak out against it as much as he wanted. One of the things he did was that he put a sign on the water fountain designated for whites saying it was out of order, forcing everyone to drink from the fountain identified as for coloreds. I thought that was a brilliant way to move people along in the right direction without having to get tied up with drama and emotion. A simple sign helped people realize that the water in the colored fountain was the same water as that which came out of the white fountain, which was one important step towards realizing that like water fountains, people are the same regardless of their color as well. Obviously we still have a long ways to go to make sure everyone really understands that. Nevertheless, I was impressed with the ingenuity behind this store owner’s decision.
I spent the last five days at a personal growth conference in Sanger, California (which is near Yosemite National Park, which I sadly didn’t have time to visit). I’ve been studying personal growth, leadership, transformation, and success for years – it’s been a big part of my life, and I use vacation time every year to further my own development. This course was all about developing one’s inner leadership skills, about making decisions and living from our best selves, remaining calm and grounded in the storms of life, and cultivating inner peace, holiness, wisdom and success. I learned a lot, and it was nice to see friends and make new ones as well. (I know I don’t speak about this side of my life learning often – part of the wisdom of the course was that we can all do a better job integrating and being our full selves in the world. Happy to share this side of me now, and if anyone wants to connect about it, I’d be happy to do so.)
One of the activities was a silent, meditative journey through a pasture. Admittedly, I was exhausted as we were up for yoga at 6:30 every morning and didn’t finish each night until midnight or thereafter. When we got to the beginning of the walk and the instructor explained what we’d be doing, I was admittedly not a happy camper. I was grumbling to myself about why I didn’t want to do it, and I came all this way and I don’t want to go find beauty amidst the cow poop and I was an environmental educator for years and I’ve lead these trips in much better places and I’m bloody exhausted and why can’t I just go back to bed and leave them and the cow poop here. Not my finest moment and for a good twenty minutes or so, I was mostly sitting miserably on a tree stump, wondering just how long this walk was going to take.
And then something interesting happened.
Each of us had been assigned a partner for the walk. We weren’t supposed to talk to them, but we were supposed to remain in eye contact and make sure that no one got lost. My partner was a new friend from Germany, and he was having the time of his life on this walk. He stopped at every tree. He got down on the ground and examined the flowers, the grass, the ant hills, and more. The look on his face was one of complete delight. As I watched him, I couldn’t help but appreciate his appreciation for nature. I saw others in the group having similar experiences. I couldn’t help but be happy for my friends who were clearly enjoying the experience more than I had been. Their joy at being in nature allowed me to find my own. My energy and mood shifted, and I decided to daven the morning service as I walked. I had a lovely time, and it reminded me both how much of our prayer service is about thanking God for the gifts of the natural world, and how much I love davening and spending time in the outdoors. Much as I love our chapel and sanctuary, there is something inherently delightful about connecting to God in nature as well.
For me the lesson of the cow poop/nature walk is that we all have times when we’re just not feeling up to whatever we need to be doing. We’re tired, we’re hungry, we’re frustrated, we’ve reached our limit, etc. Nevertheless, if we can stay open to at least appreciating other people, our experience can turn around almost in an instant. This may surprise some of you, but when I wake up at 6:00 am for morning minyan on Wednesdays and Thursdays, my 1st thought is not always about how delighted I am to wake up. Some days it’s more of a struggle than others to get there. Some days I feel deeply connected to the words of our siddur, and some days I’m just not feeling it and just go through the motions. And some of those times, I am inspired by the devotion and dedication of our minyannaires. I may not be feeling it that morning, but I can appreciate that they are. Often that’s enough to put me in a better space.
The journey of the spiritual path is not always easy. It is on one level a solitary experience, and on another level, one that only makes sense amidst community. There amidst the cow poop I was reminded that it’s okay to not always be as excited for experiences as I think I should be (much of the course focused on the damage we do when we “should” on ourselves all the time), and that I can allow others to support me when I’m down, just as I would do for them when the situation calls for it.
I therefore want to thank all of you who do so much for Beth Sholom.
I am happy to do my work here, and it is not always easy to do so.
Being a congregational rabbi is not without its challenges, and there have been more than a few days when it’s taken effort to make a big decision or do the work the job requires.
And all of you who give of yourselves, with your finances, with your time, with your love and commitment to Beth Sholom, you inspire me in those moments to keep going. Tikkun Olam, Chesed, Ritual, Budget, Membership, Old Enough, Lunch and Learn, minyannaires, Sisterhood, Men’s Club, cemetery, chevra kadisha, endowment, building, youth and families, education, exec and board committees and so much more. I am impressed by your devotion to Beth Sholom and in case I haven’t said it enough, thank you to all of you for all that you do. This rabbi couldn’t do it without you!
Tonight begins Rosh Chodesh Elul, the beginning of the last month of our Jewish calendar, which of course leads up to Rosh Hashanah. Our tradition invites us to think about repentance and forgiveness in the month ahead, and we are invited to hear the sound of the shofar each weekday morning to help us get ready for the holidays. I’ll have more to say about the holidays in the coming weeks.
In the meantime, a request:
I have of course begun thinking about sermons for the holidays.
Knowing that I generally steer away from political issues (with occasional exceptions), what topic would you like me to discuss on the holidays?
What problems are you seeking answers to that I might find Jewish wisdom to address?
What message do you think our world (or at least our shul) needs to hear this year?
What message would help you feel more connected Jewishly?
If you have suggestions, I’d be very grateful to hear them.
Tomorrow morning we’ll meet at 9 am for Starbucks Shabbat. This week’s Torah reading focuses on community life in the land of Israel, abolishing poverty, and laws of the holidays. Interestingly enough, there are some discrepancies between the book of Leviticus and the book of Deuteronomy around what exactly the Passover offering should look like, and where it was to be done. Have we all been doing our seders incorrectly? And what does our friend the cow have to do with the egg on the seder plate? Join us for Starbucks Shabbat tomorrow as this great mystery will be revealed…
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Ilan
