Like those who dream

” … like those who dream.” (Psalms 126:1)

We have all moments of shattered dreams.  My mom was a veteran of WWII and Korea … and “tough as nails”. The first time I saw her cry, however, was when her dream of America was shattered, the day President Kennedy was assassinated. Those who are old enough cannot help but feel the loss of safety and security that swept over this land when we saw the towers fall 16 years ago next week. After witnessing what happened in Charlottesville a few weeks ago, where hundreds gathered with torches shouting, “Jews will not replace us”, the response from so many Jews was a collective shiver. What, many are beginning to wonder, is happening to the dream that America represents?

Last week’s Torah portion was about a lofty dream – pursuing justice. It ends with the words “and you shall do that which is right in the eyes of the Eternal.” (Deuteronomy 21:9).  This week’s portion, in contrast, opens by talking about war.  It then discusses personal “wars” – how a lovers can have such a split that they must divorce. And immediately after, we read about the stubborn and rebellious child. It warns us to have fair weights, assuming people will seek to cheat one another, and reminds us that what we own is not fully “ours”, but ought to be shared with those in need. How explain the move from the ideals of justice to the hard realities of life?

Perhaps the Torah is reminding us to recognize that there is a difference between dream and reality.  A dream is the hope of a glorious, almost perfect future.  Reality, by definition, includes disappointments. The willingness to accept that things don’t always go well, that humans can be selfish, cruel and unfair, however, should not lead us to abandon the dream of what could be … what ought to be. Because once you forget the dream, it’s all over.

That is why we need both last week’s Torah portion and this week’s. We can bear life’s uncertainties and its pain when we recall that things can be better. We need to remember this when we become disappointed in our nation or with the State of Israel. America as a country represents noble ideals, the blessing of liberty and equality. Israel is our land of promise. Yet both places disappoint. There is bickering and strife, corruption and inequality. Is it any different in our personal lives? We know that no family is without tension and even the best of friends sometimes go through rough patches. If we use this coming month before Rosh Hashanah, as our traditions say we should, to make a truly honest appraisal of our own lives, it is hard not to be disappointed in our own failures.

We go forward, however, with hope for ourselves, our relationships with our family and friends, through times of prosperity and recession, as lovers of Israel and believers in America at its best, because we know that the tough moments are not all there are.  Our failures don’t define us.  ThHouston helper.jpgis week’s devastation in Texas and the Gulf Coast serves as a reminder that life is messy. It’s unfair, tough and too often hard. But it can be good.  The kindness we’ve seen of so many people for one another, strangers helping strangers carrying others to safety, donating money, items and time to help those who are suffering, are reminders of the nobility of the human soul.

Our days can be just, tomorrow can be better, we can forgive ourselves and our country for not being perfect … so long as we dream.

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The Eclipse

What does it mean to live in a world where we teach that all human beings are made in the image of God (בצלם אלהים b’tzelem Elohim)? How can we take responsibility for our actions? What are the consequences of turning aside from injustice? If all are equal, what does this mean when power is accrued by the few? How is it that expressions of evil become manifest in every age – and what are the means to create a better world? In short, how do we build a moral society and be inspired us to be pursuers of justice, truth and peace?

In this blog I will offer musings on the intersection between Jewish tradition and the pressing issues of our time. I hope you find it interesting and that it pushes you to ask important questions of your self, community, faith and country.

Its title comes from the first thing God does in the book of Genesis – a paradigm, I will argue, for our task in this world.


Illustration of Ancient Peruvians Worshipping the EclipseOur Rabbis taught, “When the sun is in eclipse, it is a bad omen for the whole world.”      Babylonian Talmud, Sukkah 29a

A solar eclipse is a wondrous and rare phenomenon in the universe. Few planets have moons just the right size and so perfectly aligned equidistant from their sun to afford the wonder we see here on earth. A solar eclipse only appears rarely in any one place, but over the whole globe it comes regularly enough to afford millions the opportunity to witness this marvelous sight.

Today we are excited and amazed by a solar eclipse – and I’m disappointed that I won’t be where I can see the eclipse this coming Monday. In earlier times, however, an eclipse – unannounced, seemingly random and terrifying in its ability to turn day into night – was a sign of terror. In fact, the Hebrew word for eclipse is ליקוי likui, which literally translates as “defect”. No wonder the rabbis of the Talmud saw an eclipse as an ill tiding.

The last time a total solar eclipse crossed the entire continental United States, from the Pacific to the Atlantic, was on June 8, 1918. It was in the final days of the First World War, the “Great War” that brought such wrack and ruin, destroyed the naïve fallacy that modern nations had created international structures to prevent large scale conflict and sowed the seeds that led to an even more devastating war twenty years later.

Of course, it is hubris to think the universe is swayed by our moral behavior, but maybe – in this time of strife in our land – it is worth paying attention to any reminder to be more decent. It feels like more than a coincidence we are living through a time when tolerance and peace are being eclipsed by a rising tide of racism, hatred, antisemitism and bigotry. As the solar eclipse speeds across the United States, I hope it does raise within all who see it a moral quandary: Is the darkness I see in this country what I want? How can I not allow my fears to overwhelm my capacity to act with decency?  What will I do to help this darkness pass?

Although the Talmudic sages saw a solar eclipse as a “bad omen”, they also understood that there is something greater than what we see in the planets and stars – our own moral choices. Thus, in the same passage quoted above they also added, “When Israel fulfills God’s will, they need have no fear of all these [omens] as it is said: Thus says God, ‘Do not … be dismayed at the signs of heaven.” (Jeremiah 10:2)

As terrifying as a solar eclipse – or societal moral deficit – may seem, it will pass if each of us does what is right and learns that the greatest light comes from within.