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Rabbi Chaya Gusfield

Rabbi Chaya Gusfield, Jewish Renewal, rabbi, spiritual director, chaplain

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Music/prayer

January 22, 2022
Filed Under: Healing, Music/prayer, Prayer, Spiritual Direction, Torah/Life Writings
5 Comments

Returning for a Second Helping (Encountering the Berditchever for the second time)

There are two kinds of eaters.  Those that stop after one serving because they might think it is excessive, greedy, or rude.  And those that go for a second helping.  That’s me. I go for a second helping.   I love the taste of the different flavors on the plate, the discernment of what smells good, how it feels in the mouth, how I feel nourished, and what I want more of.  I anticipate the journey of the return for a second helping. What will I take more of, what will I skip?  An eagerness has joined the moment of the return.  Experiencing the meal once again, in a new way contains a certain excitement and even depth.

I recently discovered that’s true for my rabbinate, too.  Sixteen years ago I was honored to have family and beloved rabbinic mentor, Rabbi Lavey Derby, fly to Colorado in the middle of winter to participate in my ordination. As witnesses, as qvellers, as support, and in Lavey’s case, as part of the ordination (smicha) ritual.

The journey wasn’t easy for them: there was the ear ache, the aging, the beginning stages of my mother’s dementia.  There was the cold and the snow. And there was my families’ curiosity.  All were proud Jews, but all this religious experience was a bit foreign for them. With each struggle, they all still came.  I knew my drash (short sermon) bringing Torah to the difficulties of my sister’s death during my youth, would bring heartache to my family. At the same time, I knew it was the right teaching for the moment, for me, for my community, and ultimately my family. The anticipation was palpable.  I felt clammy, nervous, jittery, excited.

Before the powerful ordination ceremony Lavey took me aside privately to share a few words.  With words of blessing he passed onto me the spiritual lineage of the chassidic rabbi, Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev, lovingly referred to as the Berditchever.  Lavey is his direct descendant. I was honored to receive this extraordinary blessing.  I had studied about him in rabbinical school.  I knew he lived in the 18th century and was one of the early Chassidic Masters. He was a student of the Maggid of Mezeritch and a friend of Rebbe Nahman of Bratzlav. I knew he had been run out of several towns by the mitnagdim, those who opposed the movement of the chassidim.  When he landed in the town of Berditchev in the Ukraine he was well received and served his people for over 25 years as their rabbi. I knew he was thought of as very kind and compassionate, always giving the benefit of the doubt to his fellow Jew.  He was the Great Advocate and Defender for the Jewish people before God.

Although I had learned about Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev and I had studied his Torah on the parshah (Torah portion) and holy days written in his book Kedushat Levi, I had not connected with his legacy or allowed it to influence my life. Receiving his legacy at smicha remained a dormant mystery to me for many years.. Yet, the seeds had been planted.  I had tasted my first serving of Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev.

In the Fall of 2021, in the heart of the coronavirus pandemic and political turmoil of our country, I found myself spiritually bankrupt.  At our second zoom High Holy Days, I couldn’t feel anything.  No matter how great the davvenen (prayer) was, the sermons, or the Torah, I felt empty and unmoved. Even when I was leading.  (I felt like Diana Morales in the Chorus Line who when asked by her theater teacher, “”Okay, Morales, what did you feel?” She responded, “Nothing, I’m feeling nothing”.)

Through a chance encounter, I heard a colleague share that Reb Zalman, z”l, had asked all of his students to immerse in one chassidic master as part of our training.  I had forgotten that direction and realized I had yet to complete this task.  In the midst of my spiritual crisis, I made a decision.  I could languish in my spiritual bankruptcy, or I could go back to the Berditchever for a second helping and try to understand his role in my life and my rabbinate.

I went back to the moment when R. Lavey Derby conferred the spiritual lineage of the Berditchever on me.  I started asking questions.  What did this mean?  What is my responsibility now?  I was driven to understand why I had received this blessing 16 years ago. To understand the concept of spiritual lineage I made lists of my ancestors, my mentors, my teachers, my spiritual influencers, my family. Through this early part of my immersion with this inquiry, I found some healing and reconnection with parts of my own family.  I also started to value, honor, and learn more about the indigenous ancestors of the land we live on.  And, the people of Torah felt closer than ever.  My house started to feel crowded with the number of ancestors who influenced my life.  I started to feel more alive and less alone.  By connecting with so many ancestors, I felt as if I was a Time Traveler.

I didn’t have any quick answers to my inquiry about the role of the Berditchever in my spiritual life, but I committed to learning his Torah again and keeping the inquiry fresh. I studied weekly with a partner (thank you Sue!) everything I could about the Berditchever.  His life, his death, the tales/legends about him and of course the Torah he wrote in his book Kedushat Levi.  I was surprised at how much I had learned before, evidenced by the notes in the margins of my books, and the files I found in my computer.  Yet, I barely remembered anything from that time.

Once I started this second helping with a new focus, it was his life story that initially impacted me, especially his hardships and resiliency.  Because he had been opposed so many times, he had a mental breakdown that lasted a year.  He also may not have had domestic bliss. The only story I could find about his wife, Perel, was that she sued him for lack of financial support.  And yet he started again, recovered and became the Berditchever.

I began to get excited when I learned about his almost ecstatic love for Sukkot, our holiday that comes four days after Yom Kippur and lasts a week.  Some say Sukkot was the original High Holy Day that Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur were preparing us for. Rosh Hashanah with announcing it with the Shofar blowing, and Yom Kippur with our rituals of atonement.  During Sukkot we are invited to live in fragile huts (called a Sukkah), to invite in our ancestors and friends, and to shake the lulav and etrog.  The lulav is a date palm joined by myrtle, willow and an etrog. We shake it to the East, South, West, North, up, down, and then bring the lulav and etrog to the heart.

The Berditchever would always move into the Sukkah as soon as he could and it was said he bought the first most beautiful etrog he could fine. There is even a story that one time when he was run out of town, he left with only his etrog and lulav in hand!

If you look at the famous Yiddish prayer/song he wrote, A Dudele, it speaks directly to God who is found everywhere, in every direction, plus heaven and earth.  I never heard anything about the song being connected to the lulav and etrog, but given his love of Sukkot, it feels as if he wrote this prayer while shaking the lulav and etrog.  This connection inspired me to plan to put a photo of him up in my Sukkah next year as one of my ancestors and to learn A Dudele in Yiddish.  Shaking the lulav and etrog has always felt as an invitation to feel the unification of life all around, and to feel God/Shechinah everywhere we turn.  It will now include my connection with Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev.

https://rabbichayagusfield.com/wp-content/uploads/English-Dudele.m4a

A Dudele, English version, translation by Rabbi Zalman Schachter Shalomi, z”l

sung by Hazzan Abbe Lyons, http://abbelyons.com

Listen to Hazzan Richard Kaplan, z”l, singing the Yiddish

I was also deeply impressed with how the Berditchever approached his death. During the end of Yom Kippur, at the time of the Ne’ilah prayers, he saw the Angel of Death standing before him. He was told he was going to die.  He was so sad to miss another opportunity to fulfill the mitzvot (sacred obligations) of the Sukkah and the Etrog, so he pleaded for more time.  He said his last viddui prayer (either for Yom Kippur or for his end of life, or both) and the Angel of Death disappeared.  He was granted the extra time he had pleaded for in order to have his last Sukkot. On Simchat Torah, which comes at the end of Sukkot, he danced and sang with abandon, and was called to the Torah as Hatan Torah, the Bridegroom of the Torah. He died the next day.  His connection with Sukkot once again touched my heart.

I loved his passion in prayer, and with his very personal relationship with God.  Not only was he seen praying from one end of a room to the other with fervor, but he was a man who would freely argue with God!   I was slowly opening and connecting to him, but still not connecting with his written Torah.  It didn’t seem to match who he was.

I woke up one morning and realized there must be a Berditchever niggun (melody).  Many chassidic rebbes had passed down a niggun. I found his sweet and deep melody without words attributed to him.  Learning this niggun was the portal I needed in order to open my heart to his Torah.

The Torah we had been studying from Kedushat Levi started to touch me deeply. His teaching on parshat Shemot clinched it.  Commenting on the sentence where the Israelites cried out to God for help because of the oppression of the Egyptian taskmasters,  (Exodus 3:7-9), the Berditchever teaches that God not only helps us deal with what we are crying out about, but understands that in moments of oppression, we can only cry out for ourselves because of our suffering. Yet, God hears our cries as a cry for more than help from our taskmasters, but also as a yearning/longing to feel close to God.  God is the ultimate spiritual director/chaplain/deep listener here, listening for what is the immediate pain we feel, but also for what is underneath our pain.  Our longing.

I couldn’t stop singing the niggun and I often cried as I sang it through many times.  I knew I was on the right path. Chanting the niggun was an invitation to listen to what gifts were being offered directly from him. When I sang, I would ask him what he was saying to me.  I finally made a soul connection with him and his Torah. He was saying many things:  “yes, come close”, “from sadness arises joy”, “keep seeking and traveling”, “you are not alone with your grief”.

There had always been niggunim I loved, sang, and had brought me and others to deep places.  However, I approached his melody not just as a melody, but as a connection to him.  The niggun also opened a hunger to learn more niggunim from chassidic masters in order to hear their Torah woven within them.

In the process of returning to the Berditchever for a second helping, I found his niggun, a new study partner, and a doorway to once again feel the spiritual life I had that had been buried. I don’t have more words to explain how.  I just keep listening as his Torah speaks my name.

Is there something in your life worth returning to or taking a second helping?

I bless you to hear it when it speaks your name.


The Berditchever niggun:

https://rabbichayagusfield.com/wp-content/uploads/lyb-niggun-jan-22.mp3

January 15, 2022
Filed Under: Healing, Music/prayer, Uncategorized
1 Comment

Everything is Music

Stop the words
Everything is music.*
The moaning at night as we age, vibrating through the body.
The humming in the shower accompanying the flow of water.
The rustling of the sprouting kale seeds and blossoms of peas.
Listen to the melodies of life bursting forth. The pencil on paper.
The rumbling of the dishwasher singing out in rhythm.
Let the music of the crunch of toast fly.
*Words from a Rumi poem.

November 12, 2021
Filed Under: Healing, Music/prayer, Prayer, Writing/art prompts and art
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Prayer as Medicine

One of my favorite things to teach is ways to approach Jewish prayer so that it opens a place in your heart that is deeply personal.  The recipe I use is approaching prayer as medicine, unlocking it’s healing remedies through learning, singing, creative writing, sharing, and listening in a small group. We write about how we connect to the prayer and our classmates listen for the words that jump out and touch us. Participants have shared that after this class, prayers they thought they knew were awakened more deeply for them.  And the new prayers landed in their hearts.

Please consider joining me or telling a friend about my upcoming class of Prayer as Medicine, four Thursdays at 5 p.m. PST, starting December 2 and ending Jan. 13 (ever other week).  Limited to 8 participants, cost is $144.  Send me a note if interested. https://rabbichayagusfield.com/contact/

New art endeavors.  I end this post with a few new pieces of art I have made. If you like my art, let me know if you would like some cards made with your favorite piece. I’d be happy to order you some for a small donation to cover costs.  Check out Chaya’s Gallery https://rabbichayagusfield.com/home/chayasgallery/ to see your choices!  They aren’t titled, so take a photo and send it to me.  I’ll make you some cards….

Much love,  Chaya

October 12, 2020
Filed Under: Healing, Music/prayer, Prayer, Torah/Life Writings
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New Class starting in December: Jewish Liturgy (prayer) As Medicine, Unpacking prayer through study, writing, and sharing in a small group

Starts in December, every other week

Five two hour sessions with R. Chaya Gusfield on Zoom

Pick which time slot works for you.  Each time slot will be limited to 6 people.

Join either the Monday OR Tuesday group.

Monday evenings at 6:30 p.m.  PST

Or

Tuesday mornings at 9:30 a.m. PST

$180 for five sessions paid by Venmo or check

If interested, contact Chaya at cgusfield@gmail.com or 925-212-7943.

See: chayasgarden.wordpress.com for more information on Rabbi Chaya Gusfield as spiritual director, teacher, and writer

Once registered I will ask you for your 2 favorite prayers or prayers you would like to unpack more deeply, and the class will be designed with some of those in mind if possible.

Dates for Monday evenings: Dec. 7 Dec. 21, Jan. 4, Jan. 18, Feb. 1

Dates for Tuesday mornings: Dec. 1, Dec. 15, Dec. 29, January 5, (skipping Jan. 12 and 19th), Jan. 26

June 5, 2020
Filed Under: Healing, Music/prayer, Prayer
2 Comments

You are Invited to a Special Healing Service-Thursday June 18, 4 p.m. PST

Friends, Buddhist Teacher Eve Decker and I will be offering a two hour Healing Service online. People have experienced this service as a time to receive, reflect and rejuvenate.

Using Jewish and Buddhist approaches, we will offer meditation, music, writing opportunities and teachings to support well-being during these uncertain courageous, and heartbreaking times. 

Eve and I have been offering services and workshops combining Jewish and Buddhist approaches for over 10 years and our work touches people in a unique way.  Please join us.

TICKETS & INFORMATION: Please RSVP to cgusfield@gmail.com by June 12.  You will get instructions for how to pay the requested $18 and instructions for attending.

No one is turned away for lack of funds. This offering was originally to be located at Kehilla Community Synagogue where we are both associated.

Please share this offering with people you think would resonate with it.

 

July 12, 2017
Filed Under: Chaplain Reflections, Grief Writings, Music/prayer, Prayer
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Showing up

All I knew was her name and that her husband had decided to stop her pain. He agreed to have her compassionately extubated from the ventilator that was breathing for her, but not making her well.  She could die any minute or any day. I learned that he could not tolerate the idea of being with her when she died. I didn’t know him or his story.  All I knew was that she was alone.   I didn’t know her religious tradition, if she had one, or what brought her peace.

The nurses caring for her found this situation intolerable and they wanted someone to be with her as she died. It was almost a begging.  I sat with her. I offered her a blessing from my heart. I told her what was happening and that she was being well taken care of.

I returned when it was time to compassionately extubate her.  Everyone seemed quite nervous.  There was pacing, voices raised, questions being asked.  I stood next to her and sang through the chaos.  I said to myself “Bring a non-anxious presence.  Bring an awareness of the sacred to the room.”  I sang gently, softly, and stroked her head.  The tears came. She looked uncomfortable.

I became the beggar now, pleading with the doctors to give more medicine. She was awake and appeared in distress.  This was not the plan. She was supposed to die peacefully.  I kept singing, hoping to bring some calm, some peace. To her and to the staff. My tears also started to flow.

“Go in peace, go in kindness, go in love, go in faith.  Leave the day, the day behind us, day is done, go in grace.  Let us go into the night, not afraid, not alone.  Let us hope, by some good pleasure, safely to arrive at home. Let us hope, by some good pleasure, safely to arrive at home.” (Sam Baker)

Were the words of this song calming or upsetting to her? I found them calming and the staff did, but I wasn’t sure if she did.  She couldn’t tell me.  I listened deeply to her face, her tears, my intuition. Because I wasn’t sure, I shifted.  I sang only the sweet melody and then another and another.  I washed her face.

The medicine started to work and she found calm.  She fell into a deep sleep. I felt assured that she was comfortable and I said goodbye.  She died within the hour.

I think she died in peace.  I hope so.

November 18, 2015
Filed Under: Cancer Reflections, Chaplain Reflections, Healing, Music/prayer
1 Comment

I Will be Your Standing Stone, I Will Stand By You

A patient, in much distress, confusion, grief

Cries out for comfort and clarity

She doesn’t remember ever having a problem this big, so big she couldn’t see how to make it through.

She wonders what she did that could make this happen

No clues, no answers, just more questions

I am a stranger, receiving her heart, offering a moment of kindness and sanctuary

After some time I sing … ..”I will be your standing stone, I will stand by you”*

In the midst of her personal chaos she stops.  She breathes. Her eyes look deeply into mine and she says,

“I really heard you.  Whenever you say those words, you must mean them.  I felt it.”

I am a stranger, but for that moment she knew that I will stand by her.

There was nothing more that needed to be said or done in that moment.

 

*Listen to the song by Melanie Demore:  “I Will Be Your Standing Stone”

October 28, 2015
Filed Under: Chaplain Reflections, Grief Writings, Music/prayer
1 Comment

Thanks for Visiting Today Mom

You always wanted me to feel you, to experience your soul, to appreciate your chiyut, your lifeforce. You yearned for that much of my life. Is it any solace to have it now?

Today I found within me the Yiddish song you taught me. It was the only common language I had with an elderly woman who spoke Russian (and Yiddish). She had initially quizzed me harshly. (“Who are you and what do you want?” she asked through the Russian interpreter on the phone.) As we sang together, and she saw you in my broken heart and wet eyes, her mistrust of me disappeared. She reached out her hand and told me her name, again and again.

As I left, she invited me to visit another time. Now I wish I had learned more Yiddish from you. More than just the short song we sang, and gey gazunt: go in good health, which I said as I left.

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