Our next guest blogger is Rabbi Katy Z. Allen, Rabbi Katy Z. Allen (AJR ’05) is the founder and leader of Ma’yan Tikvah – A Wellspring of Hope in Wayland, MA (www.mayantikvah.org), a congregation that holds services outdoors all year long. You can find Ma’yan Tikvah’s Earth Etudes for Elul a www.mayantikvah.blogspot.com. Rabbi Allen is also a staff chaplain at the Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston, MA. It is my honor to call her teacher and friend as she teaches much about the connection between Jewish spirituality and nature.

 “Adonai, Adonai, G!d, merciful and gracious, slow to anger, abundant in goodness and truth, showing compassion to a thousand generations, forgiving iniquity, transgression and sin. (Ex. 34:6-7)”

From Rabbi Allen: G!d speaks the Divine name twice! Wouldn’t once be enough? Whose attention is G!d trying to reach?

The medieval commentator Rashi teaches that “Adonai” is G!d’s attribute of compassion, and that the Divine Name is said once before a person sins and once after the person sins and repents. It’s a nice image. I think also about Rabbi Arthur Waskow’s understanding of the four letter tetragramaton as a breath that happens when we try to pronounce the unpronounceable name, and he refers to G!d as the Breath of Life. So, the Divine Name being spoken twice is sort of like G!d breathing deeply twice, once before we sin and once after we sin and repent, or, in the verse above, two deep breaths before naming the aspects of Divine mercy and forgiveness that are available to us.

Jewish tradition teaches that we are to walk in G!d’s ways. Accordingly, this means that we, too, need to have all the qualities of forgiveness listed in this verse. The compassion to a thousand generations might be tough for one individual, but at least we can try to be merciful and gracious, slow to anger, abundant in goodness and truth, and forgiving of other’s transgressions. And taking two deep breaths can help us just as much, or even more, as it can help G!d! If we breathe deeply, letting the air in and out, with conscious awareness that we are bringing into our bodies molecules that were released from some other organism or from the Earth, perhaps we can better manifest in ourselves these amazing Divine qualities.

Philosopher and nature writer Kathleen Dean Moore writes in The Pine Island Paradox: “if you sit still in the dark, breathing quietly, the world will come to life around you…and then you will understand: you are kin in a family of living things, aware in a world of awareness, alive in a world of lives, breathing as the shrimp breathe, as the kelp breathes, as the water breathes, as the alders breathe, the slow in and out. Except for argon and some nitrogen, every gas that enters your lungs was created by some living creature—oxygen by plankton, carbon dioxide by the hemlocks. Every breath you take weaves you into the fabric of life.”

When we are confronted by a difficult situation with another person, if we breathe deeply and remember the water, the oxygen, the nitrogen; the rain, the oceans, the mountains; the rainforests, the deserts, the water’s edge; the frogs, the salamanders, the bacteria – if we in those two deep breathes can allow such images to pass through our minds, reminding ourselves that we are but one tiny part of the amazing web of life on this amazing planet, and that the Breath of Life sustains us all, perhaps we will find it easier to walk in G!d’s footsteps and to be merciful and forgiving. Perhaps we will be able to look more kindly at our neighbors and ourselves. Perhaps an abundance of goodness and truth will seep into our beings, and bring healing to us and to the Earth.

With all my heart and all my soul, I pray, may it be so. Amen. Selah.

Rabbi Allen has some interesting points. One Rosh Hashanah morning I was sitting on the Atlantic Coast, at Plum Island, just after blowing shofar at sunrise. Soon I would be leaving for Germany to be the Yom Kippur rabbi in a small town. The world looked like an especially scary place that year. A rabbi had been stabbed in Frankfurt and a terrorist plot had been foiled in Heidelberg. “It doesn’t have to be this way. Sitting here the world looks so calm, so peaceful, so easy. It doesn’t have to be complicated. We should just watch the sunrise over the ocean and breathe deeply.” Rabbi Allen’s idea combines what Rabbi Kershenbaum said about G-d and us counting to 10 (or 13) when we get angry and the idea of the breathe of life. When G-d created us, G-d breathed life into us. The soul (neshama, another word for breath), is pure. G-d breathed it into us.  How do you take a breath? Go ahead. Do it right now. Breathe in goodness. Breathe out tension and stress. Breathe in G-d’s loving presence. Breathe out anger, fear and insecurity.

Much of the story of Moses is about leaving his homes. As a baby he was placed in a basket and floated down the River Nile, rescued by Pharaoh’s daughter. Thus, he grew up not in his parent’s home but the palace of the Pharaoh. Moses had to flee Egypt after smiting an Egyptian. He left his home and all that he knew and wound up in Midian, in the home of Jethro the Midianite priest. Then he left Midian to return to demand that Pharaoh let the Israelites go. And wandering in the desert for forty years surely was not a permanent home.

Some have said that “home is where the heart is.” While this piece of writing seems particularly apt this week, as I pack to move for the second time in two years, it was written initially several years ago. In studying with my hevruta partner about humility, we were talking about the need for balance. Even the rabbis saw the need generations ago. It reminded me of Bubble Rock perched on the cliff of South Bubble Mountain in Acadia National Park. I have climbed to the top any number of times in all kinds of weather. It is my touchstone. It is a pinnacle experience. I have tried to push the “accidental boulder” off the side of the mountain. Entire football teams have tried. A picture of this rock hangs in my office. It is about balance. It serves as a reminder to pause and remember that special place where the world feels whole and at one, another home for me, a place of mystical insight. How do you bring that experience back into your everyday world? I tried by bringing a piece of Cadillac granite that has been cut and polished into a heart. It sits in my home, by the side of my tub to remind me to breathe deeply and to search for balance.

Where do you feel at home? What role does home play in your life? What is the balance between security and stability and being in the right place at the right time?

Moses got angry. God got angry. The 13 Attributes say that God is slow to anger. Some translations say patient. It is OK to be angry. It is even OK to be angry with God. In fact, Dannel I Shwatrz in his book Finding Joy has an entire chapter on Getting Through the Pain where he talks about how to channel anger. In some cases, if harnessed, anger can make us more effective. Mayyim Hayyim in their fabulous resource for cancer patients, Blessings for the Journey, talks about this difficult topic rather than sweeping it under the rug. The question becomes how do we use our anger. Can we use it for good? Or do we become bitter? What do you do when you become angry?

Moses smashed the first set of commandments. And yet, and yet, life continues. Yet, out of the smashing, the destruction of the tablets of the 10 Commandments, hope arises. A midrash tells us that the Israelites gathered up the broken pieces of the smashed tablets. Eventually they put the pieces in the ark together with the new set. As Estelle Frankel said in her book, Sacred Therapy, “Sometimes we learn to appreciate life’s gifts only after we have lost them.” Ultimately, Frankel concludes, “the whole and the broken live side by side in us all, as our broken dreams and shattered visions exist alongside our actual lives.” What are the dreams that you have that you have not realized yet? How do we hold onto the beauty of our youthful, idealized dreams while maintaining the more mature, realistic ones?

You are my beloved, says G-d. Yet for many of us it is so hard to believe that G-d can love us. That was true for me. As a victim of a violent crime I thought that I wasn’t loveable anymore. That I was somehow “damaged goods.” But then I had an aha moment. The first two attributes are Adonai, Adonai, The Lord, The Lord. But the rabbis teach that there are no extra words in the Torah. Usually this attribute is seen as G-d loving the sinner before the sin and loving the sinner after the sin. What if, it meant that G-d loved me before the attack and after the attack? Was it even possible? It just might be.

Our next blogger is Zahava Raz, the cheerful, welcoming voice of Congregation Kneseth Israel. Her thinking was quite similar. G-d is the G-d of love. Why wouldn’t we want to know this G-d?

After looking at the list of 13 attributes of God, the question came to me, “who wouldn’t want to know this God of Israel, who is so wonderful, so personable, so abundant in goodness and forgiveness, showing compassion to a thousand generations, pardoning sin and full of truth?

It struck me how much this God loves us.  How much He desires us to know Him. Why on earth shouldn’t we run to Him and stay with Him on a daily basis and just get to know Him? This is why the Israelites fell on their faces before Him in worship.  They saw, knew and felt that powerful presence.

Yet we do not come close.  We stray far from Him. We think we cannot enter into a relationship because He is God.  Yet Abraham did, Moses did, David did, and all the prophets did.  We can too.

He must be real to us, we must be like walking Torah’s, full of all those attributes. These attributes should be ingrained in our personalities for peace to come on earth.

Forgiveness needs to be a part of our lives.   If we do not forgive, sickness comes, webecome bitter and harbor grudges.  We should imitate God – we should be slow to anger and showing much compassion towards one another.  And if another injures us, we should pardon them in love.

God is our example.  And He wants to know us as His children . We  should be that close to Him.  And have confidence to come to Him with trust, and not fear.

When the Israelites were wandering in the desert they received a double portion of manna on Friday because they could not collect it on Shabbat. Manna comes from the Hebrew word for gift. Manna was a gift from G-d that fell out of the heavens. When we talk about creating holy spaces we offer gifts. What are the gifts that you bring?

Debbie Friedman, of blessed memory wrote lyrics about our gifts this way:
These are the gifts that we bring
that we may build a holy place.

This is the spirit that we bring
that we may build a holy place.

We will bring all the goodness
that comes from our hearts

And the spirit of God will dwell within…..
These are the colors of our dreams
we bring to make a holy place.

This is the weaving of our lives
we bring to make a holy place.

We will bring all the goodness
that comes from our hearts

And the spirit of love will dwell within…..
These are the prayers that we bring
that we may make a holy place.

These are the visions that we seek
that we may build this holy place.

Let our promise forever be strong,
let our souls rise together in song,

That the spirit of God
and the spirit of love,
Shechinah,
will dwell within.

In her lyrics the gifts we offer are not monetary. Those help to be sure. These gifts are from the heart.

Shabbat is both holy time and holy space. It too is a gift. Like the old Pepsi commercial it is the pause that refreshes. It is the break from the mundane. Time we can spend with God, our families, our communities. May each of you find that holy space, that holy place, that holy time during this weekend. May each of you find a crevice in the rock where you can experience God’s presence. It maybe in the synagogue. It may be standing by the ocean or a pond or a lake. It maybe sleeping in a hamrock, gently rocked by a summer breeze. It maybe in an actual crevice on top of a mountain. But find that space to know that you are loved. That would be a good Shabbat gift. Shabbat shalom.

Elul 4
The 10 Commandments were a gift, a sign that G-d loves us. The knowledge of the 13 Attributes was another gift. Standing at Sinai we created holy space, holy time. Mount Sinia was G-d’s holy place. The mishkan, the Tabernacle, was holy space. The Temple and the Holy of Holies were holy spaces. Our homes are called mikdash m’eat, little sanctuaries, little holy spaces. Our next guest blogger, Rabbi Linda Shriner Cahn writes poetically of healing, repairing and tikkun. She creates holy space.

God’s Holy Place – Tikkun Leah
Blessings showered upon me
Over and over
Who am I that these gifts are mine
The road is neither straight nor easy,
but it is filled with love and laughter.
Each moment a blessing,
unique in its gift.
Each moment a gem,
to be treasured and valued
Each day more revealed…
Purpose and meaning clear a path
Gratitude abounds
So many gifts
A holy place – God’s Holy Place made real

Rabbi Linda Shriner Cahn is the rabbi of Tehila in Riverdale, NY. A graduate of the Academy for Jewish Religion, she has been my teacher, my chevruta partner, my classmate, my friend. Who else would I stay up late nights studying codes with or sharing the joys and worries of raising children.

How do we create holy space today? What makes time sacred? How do we appreciate these gifts that are ours?

Elul 3
Despite Moses’ anger, real violent anger upon seeing the Israelites dancing around the calf, Moses continues to lead the people and advocate on their behalf. He even pleads with God for God’s forgiveness on behalf of the Israelites. He shows real leadership in the face of adversity and rejection when he defends the Israelites. God agrees, forgives the people and tells Moses to return and to continue to lead. There are many styles of leadership. What do you look for in a leader? I believe that everyone has the potential to be a leader. Everyone can answer G-d’s call with the word of Abraham, Moses, Jeremiah, Isaiah. Hinini, Here am I. None of our patriarchs, matriarchs, prophets were perfect and they all doubted their abilities. What style of leader are you—director, coach, collaborative, hierarchical? What leadership traits do you have? How can you continue to lead in the face of adversity, criticism or rejection?

Before Moses went back up the mountain, he had been angry, really angry and he smashed the first set of tablets of the Ten Commandments, the Ten Sayings. There are many interpretations of why he does this. Some say that Moses lost all patience with the Israelites who had demonstrated by dancing around the Golden Calf that they are unworthy of God’s covenant. Or, just as the tablets are broken, so too is Moses, a broken, discouraged and angry man. He is all alone, cut off from the people he is leading. Others say he protected the people. By smashing the tablets before the people heard the commandments, they could not be responsible. Despite his visible anger, and G-d’s anger, the most amazing thing happened. Moses got to experience the Divine Presence and understand G-d’s attributes. He could understand who G-d is:

The Lord! The Lord! A God compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in kindness and faithfulness, extending kindness to the thousandth generation, forgiving iniquity, transgression and sin, yet He does not remit all punishment, but visits the iniquity of the fathers upon children and children’s children upon the third and fourth generation.

How wonderful and how hard to understand the depth of this. How do you count to 13. The rabbis, in fact puzzle over it. I am not sure that ultimately it matters. What does matter is that G-d IS compassionate and gracious, abounding in love. G-d is also slow to anger. What does that mean? What does that mean in terms of how we as individual people handle our own anger? Moses got angry. So angry he smashed the tablets. G-d got angry and flooded the world, destroyed Sodom and Gemorah and is threatening to cut of the Israelites right there. Moses, despite his anger, pleads for them.

Our first guest blogger, Rabbi Peg Kershenbaum teaches us:

However you count these 13 attributes, you’re helping God to count to 10. There are certainly times during the 40 years wandering that some of the traits seem to be in eclipse from the point of view of the Children of Israel. Of course, there are at least as many times when they (we!) were rather provoking. There is a tradition (reported in Rosh haShanah 17b) that if ever we should need forgiveness, we should recite these traits in order before God and God will forgive. Well, not “recite,” but rather “do” them in order.

Here’s how I understand this tradition. When I, wearying of the stubbornness that keeps me from admitting that I’ve slipped from the path I’d hoped to be following by this time of life, finally need motivation to drop the pretenses and get on with finding the wherewithal with which to turn, I read these attributes to remind myself of how I’d like to be. Of course a mere human cannot “do” all these things. But, oh! I really do want to be merciful–not filled with harshness and suspicion. It galls me that I haven’t remembered to thank all the people who have been kind, or picked up the phone to say how much I enjoyed the party you invited me to. I used to think of myself as patient, but there’s no self-deception that can disguise the fact that I’m on a much shorter fuse than I used to be. Abundant in goodness? There are days that I’ve settled for not actively nasty! And there have been times when truth was more of a bludgeon than the delicate instrument it should be.
Recently, after being plagued by neighborhood woes, I suddenly got very tired of being angry, outraged and insulted. Like Beruriah, I counseled myself to pray for my antagonists to change (rather than go up in smoke liberally scored with stick-pins!) I was quite surprised when I began to see them as fellow humans who were just missing the mark, not thorns in my side. As I calmed down and began to think of them almost fondly again, I think I even felt some of the other traits give themselves a shake. Getting those vexing thoughts out of my head and heart and mouth felt good! Now, if I could start at the beginning of the list (following one line of interpretation) I might give some of the people a “pass” before they start in on me again, and I could let go of the insults after they’ve been flung. You get the picture.
So, if I say these attributes aloud, I buy myself some time to calm down, to reflect on actions that I’m not proud of and to remind myself of my better nature. Perhaps in awakening those regrets and motivating myself to change I also call on God to help get me the rest of the way.

Rabbi Peg Kershenbaum is the rabbi of Congregation B’nai Harim in the Pocanos. She also is linguist and a classics major working on a dictionary of Greek, Latin, Hebrew, with my thesis advisor, Rabbi Bernard M. Zlotowitz. At Rabbi Zlotowitz’s request she helped edit and proofread my thesis on the 13 Attributes. She was my presenter at ordination and is a signer on my smicha document.

Tonight is Rosh Hodesh Elul. The beginning of the new month preceding the new year. It is a time of reflection, of introspection, of review and renewal. It is said that on the first of Elul, Moses climbed back up Mount Sinai, to receive the 10 Commandments a second time. He received much more than that. He would have a very intimate encounter with the Divine. But on this very first day of Elul, Moses was scared, exhausted and more than a little angry. He seeks some Divine reassurance from G-d—and he gets it. It is G-d who will go before him and lighten his burden, giving him rest. What does it mean to you, to have G-d lighten your burden. What does it mean to rest. What would you give up carrying?

This is an auspicious time. Tonight we begin a project of looking at the 13 Attributes of the Divine, those very soul-traits that Moses heard, felt, experienced when he was back on that mountain top. I have asked many of you to wrestle with this text. What does it mean to you? How do they speak to you?

Tonight a small group of us met at Congregation Kneseth Israel. We talked about Rosh Hodesh. How the women did not give up their gold for the golden calf and so the women have this half-holiday just for women. We talked about whether there is still a difference between women’s spirituality and men’s. We looked at several books aimed at helping us prepare for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Each person selected something to read to the group. One had us puzzling. We all decided we needed to do more thinking about it. Neshama Carlebach in Dr. Ron Wolfson’s book, the Seven Questions You’re Asked in Heaven asks, “Did you betray who you are or did you do what you hoped.” Wow! Such a big question. That is what Elul is for, wrestling with the tough stuff, ahead of asking to be inscribed and sealed in the Book of Life.

During the next 40 days we will go on a journey, a journey together to our deepest most selves. Come journey with me. Be assured by G-d that G-d will give you rest. The rabbis teach that the word Elul, the name of this month means search in Aramaic. We will search together. It also is an a acronym for Ani L’Doi V’Dodi Li. I am my Beloved and my Beloved is Mine. Come with me and experience the G-d who calls us Beloved. Then we will be ready to greet Rosh Hashanah, the New Year, living a life that matters.

“Your mother wears army boots!’ This is the way I started the conversation at Congregation Kneseth Israel this past Shabbat. I wasn’t even sure I could say it outloud. And while, this was the curse that was most frequently shouted, hurled on my playground growing up, I am not sure it is any more. Why is it a curse? Because army boots aren’t feminine, as one of my members pointed out. On the other hand, now we have women who actively serve in the military and maybe it is now a blessing!

This week’s portion, was about blessings and curses. Ultimately the litany concludes with this powerful thought, “See I have set before you today a blessing and a curse. Choose life, that you may live.”

In two weeks, again we will read a series of blessings and curses. The tradition is to read the curses quickly and in a whisper, as if merely saying them out loud will cause them to happen to each one of us. Do we really think that is how curses work?

In four weeks, we will again stand here and sing Avinu Malkenu, the haunting litany that is central to the High Holidays. There is lots to say about Avinu Malkenu, but most of that will wait too. For now, know that it is an ancient prayer that asks for G-d’s blessings in the case of drought. Rabbi Akiva said it and his prayer was answered. Now we don’t seem to have a drought here in Elgin—but there are plenty of places around the globe that do. Do we assume that if a place is undergoing a drought it is because people weren’t praying hard enough? Hardly.

Avinu Malkenu is not said on Shabbat, because we don’t ask G-d for things on Shabbat. Even G-d gets to rest.

Choose life that you may live. How do we choose life? Who would choose curses over blessings? One of the things I am enjoying most about the congregation is that now people are willing to talk about these things and to think deeply. Even more so, they seem to be looking forward to what others are saying and are really listening, deeply listening. This enriches all of our understanding. It energizes me and it is like watching holy sparks fly.

What is the blessing of choosing life? Remaining positive. Acting in this life to assure a place in the world to come. Choosing a life that matters so that our actions mirror what our mouths are saying. Making the world a better place. As someone said, it is sort of like the Nike commercial. You do it. You just do it. We have a choice or more accurately as was pointed out, a series of choices. Little ones lead to bigger ones—in either direction. Sometimes in fact we have too many choices—and it is not just about Chinese food or Mexican food, or which color shirt to wear. If we make enough of the right choices, then we are in fact choosing life and a life that matters.

But sometimes, people choose death. Those people maybe struggling with mental illness or severe, debilitating pain. Or sometimes it is like Pharaoh whose heart G-d hardened. Each choice he made brought him closer to the last plague the death of the first done. Who would choose death over life? So maybe this is about choosing a life that matters. We talked a little about that last week. That G-d requires of us to do justly, to love mercy and to walk humbly with our G-d. Or in last week’s formulation, to fear (or revere G-d) to walk with G-d and to love G-d. That is the life we are choosing. By choosing that, then we receive G-d’s blessings.

This week’s portion gives us a blueprint for leading that meaningful life. It talks about the smita year, the seventh year when all the debts are cancelled and the land lays fallow. As Eitz Hayyim tells us, “Much of this chapter is concerned with ensuring that there not emerge in Israel a permanent underclass—persons unable to lift themselves out of poverty. Such a condition would be unfair to human beings, fashioned in the image of G-d and dangerous to society as a breading ground for lawlessness and irresponsibility.”

The first step is cancelling debts in the seventh year. Wow. This is what Rabbi Arthur Green might call Radical Judaism. The Kleins have had an interesting summer, shopping for housing. While we had read about the housing crisis in America and even know friends who lost homes in the economic downturn, it did not make much sense until we started looking at property. I think it has been like looking at the underbelly of the beast. And while the Kleins may benefit, I wonder about a child named Daniel whose home we may soon occupy. His stick picture self-portrait is colored in black crayon on the dry wall in the basemet, his height in 2002 and then again in 2010 is duly recorded by a proud parent. A black crayon dropped at the entrance to the garage. What happened to Daniel? Where is he now? Do we, as a society, have an obligation to Daniel? This portion would suggest yes!

The portion promises that if we forgive debts, there will be no needy among you. This strikes me as some precursor to Maslow’s pyramid. If you have housing, clothes, food, love, security, if you are not poor; then you can work on higher level issues. If there are no needy among you, then G-d will bless you. HOWEVER, and here is what made me incredibly sad. If there are needy people among you, and the text tells us there will always be, “For there will never cease to be needy ones in your land, which is why I command you to open your hand to the poor and the needy kinsmen of your land.” Ours is not to finish the task, neither are we free to ignore it, according to Pirke Avot. The issues existed in Biblical times. They are still very real today.

Thank G-d we have the haftarah as a balance. Isaiah teaches, Ho, all who are thirty, come for water, even if you have no money. Come buy food and eat. Buy food without money. Wine and milk without cost. Why do you spend money what is not bread, Your earnings for what does not satisfy….

So the question becomes what satisfies? What is a life that matters? Do we need all the things that our materialistic culture buys? Or should we be spending some of it on other things?

Dr. Ron Wolfson wrote an interesting book, the Seven Questions You’re Asked in Heaven. Now we Jews don’t have nearly as well formed an idea of what heaven might be like so the title of this book intrigued me. We talk about Gan Eden, the Garden of Eden, as a type of Paradise (both Hebrew phrases). We talk about olam ha’ba, the world to come. But we don’t dwell on what that world will be like. We talk about the reward being in this world, not the next world. And yet, we have a strong tradition of stories about the next world.
As I child, I loved the stories of Zlateh the Goat, an IB Singer collection illustrated by Maurice Sendek. The first story was called, A Fool’s Paradise.” There is the famous story of Zusiya Lying on his death bed, Reb Zusya was very upset and crying, tears streaming down his face.
His students asked with great concern, “Reb Zusya, why are you upset? Why are you crying? Are you afraid when you die you will be asked why you were not more like Moses?”
Reb Zusya replied, “I am not afraid that the Holy One will ask me ‘Zusya, why were you not more like Moses?’ Rather, I fear that the Holy One will say, ‘Zusya, why were you not more like Zusya?’”

We don’t have to be Zusya. We don’t have to be Moses. We just have to be ourselves, working for the good of all, as this portion suggests, for the widow, the orphan, the stranger. If we celebrate the holidays then we will see G-d, we will receive G-d’s blessing and know unlimited joy. We don’t have to finish the tasks, but we are not free to ignore them. In the next few weeks we will look more at this question of what is a life that matters.