Rabbi Chaya Gusfield, Jewish Renewal, rabbi, spiritual director, chaplain
Encountering the Name through art/creativity, helped me remember. Thank you.
Shmei Raba (The Great Name)
Adonai (YHVH)
HaMakom (the Place)
No Name
What is the portal to help you remember what you need to remember?
If you prefer not to receive my blog posts, please click here. You will still receive my very occasional newsletters letting you know when I will be teaching or opening up a group.
God who keeps faith with those who sleep in the dust…
May human and Divine intervention come swiftly to protect the lives of elders and children, mothers and brothers, fathers and cousins…
May the protective wings of the shechina unfurl to protect all of Rafah, where millions of Gazans have come to seek shelter. May the radiance of the Divine reach each and everyone of them.
May human and Divine intervention grant them grace.
May we be given the strength to do what we can to demand an immediate change of course from our leaders.
May those whose faces and eyes have been lowered in fear, shame, or pain, or denial, know it can still make a difference to lift up their eyes now, to demand peace.
If you prefer not to receive my blog posts, please click here. You will still receive my very occasional newsletters letting you know when I will be teaching or opening up a group.
I am making art, listening to panels about Palestine/Israel, reading articles, but don’t have much to say yet. Please stay in touch.
Again, I am posting a few offerings that have inspired:
1.
https://www.allmep.org/about-us-allmep/
ALLMEP is a coalition of over 170 organizations—and tens of thousands of Palestinians and Israelis—building people-to-people cooperation, coexistence, equality, shared society, mutual understanding, and peace among their communities. We add stability in times of crisis, foster cooperation that increases impact, and build an environment conducive to peace over the long term.
2.
(From the Reconstructionist Movement)
As the war in Gaza continues into the second month, our list has grown to over 2,100 people from Reconstructionist congregations and beyond. Over 450 people joined us last night – an all-time record. In this email we are sharing our recording of the November 8 panel, “A View from the Israeli Left” as well as several other items.
Panel: A View from the Israeli Left
Passcode: Xc^R7N^J
The events since Simchat Torah reminded me of the crisis in Texas, when Rabbi Charlie and a few of his congregants were held hostage in their synagogue in January, 2022. I was of course thrilled that the hostages were not killed, but horrified to hear in the press “no one was killed.” The truth was no hostages were killed, but the man who kept them hostage was killed after Rabbi Charlie and his congregants escaped. I felt it was honest for us to acknowledge the loss of his life.
It is the same in war. I need to acknowledge the loss of all life. This doesn’t reduce the horror of any specific acts. That’s why I mourn for those killed in Israel and Gaza. That’s why I pray for the hostages’ release. That’s why I want to see a stop to the invasion of Gaza by Israel.
So when I heard Or Shalom was offering a collective shiva (Jewish mourning ritual) for all lives lost, I jumped in my car and drove over the bridge to join. We sat shiva for all the lives lost. We sat shiva for the loss of our own sense of safety and security. We sat shiva for what the Jewish community was before this moment of rupture. We sat shiva for the death and destruction that is inevitably to come.
We sat in a circle in a room lit mostly by candles. We didn’t need to invent new liturgy. We had the evening service our tradition has gifted us. We spoke about our grief. I could finally breathe. All week I had felt afraid, anxious and alone. Even within the Jewish community and with friends who were not Jewish. Many people jumped to politics and asked questions and made statements, when I felt it was too soon for words. I felt heartbreak, only heartbreak. All I wanted to do was to sit shiva.
I wondered whether it was smart for me to wear my kippah. I heard talk about people saying mezzuzot were dangerous. I worried every time I went to synagogue. I made sure I knew where the exits were and I brought my cell phone in when I might not have in the past. I seriously considered the Zoom option, even when I wanted to see and touch my people. Anti-semitism just got racheted up a notch in this country.
There are also thousands of Palestinians and others in Gaza (and elsewhere) who have been and are suffering, displaced, and have been killed. Their future is frightening. Whenever there is a flare of violence in Israel or Palestine, Islamophobia and anti-Palestinian/anti-Arab rhetoric and actions rise in the U.S. I believe this is also a time for all of us to be especially tender with our friends, colleagues, neighbors and their loved ones who are Muslim, Palestinian, or otherwise from Arab populations.
Many people asked if I knew anyone in Israel. The worldwide Jewish community is tiny for many reasons, including genocide and pogroms (anti-Jewish riots) occurring within our living memory or the memory of our parents or grandparents. This is why, in addition to reading the news many are reading, most of us are also learning on our personal networks about funerals, people missing, people kidnapped, and bodies of people identified. This is true whether we are closely connected to Israel or not connected to Israel at all. Whether we are horrified about and critical of the government of Israel, or whether we would do anything for it. Whether we are against the occupation and pray for a time where Jews and Palestinians can have peace as the cousins we are, or whether we are primarily concerned about the security of Israel.
At the collective shiva we were asked to make a commitment about something this moment was asking of us. For me, it was truth-telling. The truth is I mourn the losses on all sides of this conflict and grieve what will come from continued fighting.
I am not the rabbi who is also a political expert, but I believe violence isn’t the answer to this conflict and it never has been. There must be another way. There is a lot of suffering needing to be validated and seen. There are narratives needing to be heard. There is grief needing to be felt. And there is historical trauma needing healing. Violence is not the answer.
My friends remind me to hope, even if peace doesn’t come in my lifetime. Truthfully, I don’t know how to muster the hope, but I will lean on those of you who do.
Ken Yehi Ratzon, may it be so.
I had never been to this synagogue. My friend was the new rabbi and I wanted to attend. It was supposed to be over 95 degrees and I didn’t know if they had AC. I hadn’t slept much the night before due to my mind which wouldn’t turn off. What if I fell asleep during the lengthy Torah service? Surely, I didn’t have the right clothes for shul (synagogue), and I wasn’t sure I could sit for 2.5 hours. Who knew if anyone would be masked or if I would be the only one sticking out like a sore thumb, telegraphing “don’t get too close to me.”
I decided not to go. But there I was, pressing the doorbell of the synagogue, my rabbi bones craving some good old-time religion. I was met by a very friendly woman who gave me a quick tour of the small historic building. I soon discovered she was one of the very competent lay leaders who lead davvenen (prayer) beautifully and chanted lots of Torah as if she were born to fulfill this sacred task. You knew she understood every word and possibly many of the interpretations.
I chose a seat and greeted those around me with a customary “Shabbat Shalom”. A few minutes later someone kindly said, “Please take your books off the chair next to you. That’s where Jules sits.” “Of course,” I replied, wondering who Jules was. I imagined he must be a longtime member. After services began, Jules arrived with his light large print siddur (prayerbook) and his many years of life. I soon learned I was privileged to be sitting with the Jewish history of this synagogue, ever so wise and gentle.
I’m not sure he even needed the siddur. It seemed like he had every word and melody memorized, with his Ashkenazi pronunciation. I’m not sure if he heard me singing under my mask, but slowly we were davvenen together, almost as if the services were just for us. Praying with him felt like medicine.
During the Torah service, I took out my chumash (Torah) and followed each word with my finger, sometimes chanting along quietly. Jules seemed to be following my fingers. After he returned from his aliyah (honor at the Torah), I shook his hand and gave him the appropriate greeting, “Yashar koach”. He smiled. My heart melted and we exchanged names.
During those 2.25 hours of Hebrew prayers given to us from the rabbis, dramatic choreography during the Torah service, familiar and new melodies, and Torah, I entered the world of our People, experiencing our tradition as fully whole. And the fact that it took about five people to help me dress the Torah felt unnecessary, but so familiar! (How many Jews does it take to dress a Torah?)
I forgot about the mask, the sitting, the clothes, the sleeplessness, and left with a smile in the 95 degree heat. I took with me a renewed love of our People, our resilience and our history. Today was the true Shabbat Chazon, the Shabbat of Vision. I can’t wait to return to see my new friend, Jules, and maybe even dress that Torah again!
She was celebrating in a room filled with hope, pride, Shabbes, and connection. Flowers, hearts, and song dancing with the smells of delicious food, Torah, laughter, and tears. There was truth shared over bagels, about pain, dreams, visions, how to cope with disappointment, regret. And joys spilled forth over lox and capers. Whispers of family. The salad was delish. The sun was hot, very hot. She had forgotten her hat and sunglasses. Someone shared the frosting of her cupcake. Another shared her memories of Italian gelato as if she were sharing a deep secret no one else could ever have known.
When he asked her, “All is well with you?” the air was surprised to hear, “No, I am feeling some despair” and the tears began to flow. Despair had made an appearance. Not willing to be ignored in the colors of the day. Received with care as if it was normal to show up at a moment like this.
A pensive walk home, a nap, a drive, ice cream for dinner, and a sunset. Despair had made her appearance. Received with care, and life continued. The next day there was a long walk to the beach, a bialy, another nap, and fabulous fried rice with homemade brownies. Despair had made an appearance, and life continued as life does.
Friends, I have been so excited working with Or Shalom Jewish Community in San Francisco as interim rabbi that I haven’t posted much. But I wanted to let you know that I am teaching a 3-session class on line on how to enter Jewish prayer through writing. I hope you can join me and those from Or Shalom. Please see the information below.
We will unpack prayer through study, writing, and sharing in a small group. This class is available to people of all levels of Jewish learning. We will explore a few key Jewish prayers, but more importantly, I will teach you an approach to gaining access to prayer and making it personal.
DETAILS: Wednesday night: March 8, 15, 22, 2023, 7-8:30 p.m. on Zoom. Contact me to register. (no fee)
This was a first. When I lead services or speak publicly, I have been known to tear up, have my voice crack, take a minute, and authentically show up to the moment, to the place. At this Friday night Shabbat service it was very different.
We were exploring the Torah where Jacob experienced a moment of awe directly from his dream vision. In his dream he received blessings from God and saw angels going up and down from earth to heaven. There were words like “stairway”, “awe”, “God’s house” and “gateway to heaven” in just a few sentences. The word, הַמָּקוֹם HaMakom, which literally means The Place, and is also understood as a name for God, was found numerous times throughout the reading.
Jacob awakens with awe in his heart and says, “There was sacredness here and I didn’t even know it!” And then he says מַה-נּוֹרָא, הַמָּקוֹם הַזֶּה Ma nora hamakom hazeh, “How awesome is this place!” We wondered together why Jacob was given such a profound vision and blessings, and why we are called Israelites, as descendants of Jacob who later becomes Israel. I mean, he wasn’t such a great guy-stealing blessings from his brother Esau, lying to his father, running away from Esau who wanted to kill him, and more.
According to Rabbi Jonathan Saks, one possibility we are called Israelites is because at the time of his dream vision Jacob was alone, scared and away from home. He wasn’t in a good place. And yet, he awoke to the consciousness that God was present. He felt God accompanying him and offering him blessings. Even in our worst days, even in the days of despair and hopelessness, we are invited to know we are never truly alone. This is what we learned from Jacob’s experience, and why we are his descendants. Maybe, this is what it means to be a Jew.
This Shabbat was unique. We could feel the impact of Jacob’s dream in the room. We experienced the sense that we are never alone. That’s what it means to be a Jew, an Israelite. I could have cried, but I didn’t. Not yet.
The heart was open. The love in the room was strong. The community was feeling it. And we sang, “MA NORA HAMAKOM HAZEH”, How awesome is THIS place! If we could have, we would have sang and danced for 10 minutes. But we had healing blessings to offer and people to remember who had died.
I sent healing to a young child I knew recovering from serious surgery. We sent love to friends we knew with COVID, ALS, Parkinsons, a broken rib, dementia, extensive dental work, etc. And we remembered our loved ones who had died.
During this time I was surprised to learn about the death of a beloved teacher I hadn’t seen in 40 years.* While holding space for others, the tears unexpectantly began to flow and flow and flow. The gates opened to memory and grief. The tears sang their songs of love and transformation. There was no stopping them. The heart remembered a 25-year-old learning and growing, passionate and creative, finding her way, guided by this teacher. Now he is in a new Place, finding his way.
I hadn’t known how much he had meant to me. I certainly would not have expected such a strong response to this news while I was leading a congregation. Normally I would have been able to stay focused and save my bigger tears for another time. But, like Jacob’s encounter, I was surprised to be swimming with the Sacred. This time, with Sacred Memory.
Even though it was awkward to have such big public emotion while leading a service, the surprise was in fact a blessing, held by a Sacredness beyond time and beyond words. The congregation was so supportive. I came to feel, very personally, “How Awesome is this Place!”
מַה-נּוֹרָא, הַמָּקוֹם הַזֶּה
*Peter Gabel, Zichrono livracha, may his memory be a blessing.
