Before Shabbat

When the temperature spiked this week from 45 to 90 degrees, it threw me off a bit. As if in a dream, I started packing for the Cape, our annual summer destination. This, in turn, activated a lot of signals to my hippocampus, awakening memories of what comes along with the Cape.

At the beginning of every summer for close to 40 years, I contemplate the upcoming new year.  I ponder so many different things. I think about my life as a pond with concentric ripples fanning out. The first circle is my immediate reality: my body, my choices. Next are my wife and kids, my relatives and oldest friends. Then comes my temple family, the people I work with professionally, and the congregation I serve. And then there’s the more diffuse local, regional, national, and international issues that involve and intrude on my pond, like a thunderstorm or a cool breeze or a blizzard, depending on who’s doing what where.

This is the pond into which I jump every day. But in the heat of these last few days, I’ve started to especially examine and reexamine the waters, as if Rosh Hashanah were around the corner. I’m not complaining – after all, a little extra time spent in reflection mode can’t be bad.

But it does make me wonder: what’s this world coming to? And what am I coming to? Surely with age comes an acute sense of limits and finitude. But just as certainly, with age comes wisdom. In fact, the book of Psalms, 90:12, suggests that acknowledging mortality leads to wisdom. “Teach us to number our days, that we may attain a heart of wisdom.”

Yes, there’s a beginning, a middle, and an end to everything – except God – and maybe the multiverse. As spring edges to summer, as summer pushes towards Fall, there is this sense that a personal account checking is in order. It’s time to explore our blessings and challenges of the past year and how we have responded to them.  What kind of connections have we made? What connections have we broken?  It’s a time to reflect on the fact that we live in relationship to each other and all the earth. And it’s a time for honest reflection, forgiveness, celebration and healing.

I know, I know. I’m a little bit early. I’ve put away the summer clothes box and the Crocs. But I’m stuck with this looming sense of urgency ignited by the weather. I think I’m going to stick with it, see where it takes me.

Rabbi Eliezer taught “Repent one day before your death.” His students said, “Rabbi, how is that possible if one doesn’t know the day of one’s death?” To which Rabbi Eliezer responded, “Aha! Making amends and being in spiritual balance is not something to put on layaway! It must always be in your mind and heart.”

The rabbi has a point. What matters most, in the end, is not how many toys we have collected. What truly counts is to be wholeheartedly clear that, at the end of the day, we have done our best to do the right thing. How to be clear? That’s the work. And now that the heat has activated the High Holy Day prep syndrome, I’m on it. As Rabbi Eliezer indicates, it’s always the right time.

Shabbat Shalom

rebhayim

One of the things that attracted so many viewers to Mad Men, a series about advertising execs in the 60s and 70s, was just how well they captured that period of American cultural history. Every partner at the firm had a full bar cart in their office, stocked every day with ice, clean glasses, and bottles of whiskey. Smoking cigarettes was a ubiquitous habit in offices, restaurants, airplanes, hospitals, etc.

They got the clothing just right. The men’s suits, the shoes, the women’s fashions, and the hair-dos the props and continuity folks did their homework diligently and well.  The automobiles and buses and other vehicles were all properly placed. It was truly a flash from the past.

Whenever I talk to folks who were in the ad business then – or any other white-collar business – they mention how realistic Mad Men was, capturing so many of the unique cultural practices of that bygone era. They talk about the three-martini lunches, the extravagant office parties, the number of hours men were expected to be in the office, and the general attitude of the triumphalism of post-war capitalist America.

There are some other aspects of the early to mid-60s and forward that Mad Men also captures. There is, of course, institutional racism that African Americans had no place in corporate America unless they were cleaning up or running elevators. There was also institutional antisemitism, a clear line of demarcation for where Jews could work, where Jewish doctors could practice medicine, what country clubs we could belong to, and so forth.

Then, of course, there was the misogyny. The idea that rampantly pulsed through corporate America was that women were meant to remain at home to take care of the kids to fulfill their lives. If they had a job, it was only to save enough money to live in a decent apartment until they met a man who would save them. Women were not seen as intellectually competent, though smart enough to file and take dictation. Career women were to be mistrusted; there was something ‘wrong’ with them not wanting to be at home.

Along with this paternalistic attitude towards women was another dimension: that women were sex objects to be ogled, fondled, cat-called, and harassed – but all in “good fun.” Women were not to complain about this treatment; in fact, they were to feel ‘lucky’ and grateful when powerful men deigned to pay attention to them. Women were to be submissive, lest they lose their jobs for having a bad attitude.

I didn’t grow up in a house where women or girls were treated, spoken to or about as objects. Sure, as a teenager, amongst my male friends, we could be rude and crude, mostly about things we didn’t know or hadn’t experienced.  This kind of banter is called locker room talk, even though I spent little time in a locker room.

But we never demeaned or degraded women. We were very attracted to them and loved to look at them. But we knew the difference between looking and leering, between saying hello as a way of being friendly as opposed to being obnoxious.

Obviously, there are men who were not raised as I was. There are men who were not introduced to Germaine Greer and Gloria Steinem and Betty Friedan by earnest girlfriends or sisters. There are men who were not told by their moms or teachers or dads that, “We don’t know talk about women that way.” There are men who were taught that as white Christians with means they were entitled to rule the world.

But that entitled, triumphalist attitude about women and minorities no longer sits well with people and corporations that, until recently, subscribed to that same ethos of success. Companies like  Mercedes Benz and Aleve and other Fortune 500 companies dropped their sponsorship of Bill O’Reilly’s show after multiple complaints emerged regarding his sexually harassing women at Fox. The NBA left North Carolina when they denied the rights of transgender people to use the bathroom they preferred to use.

At some point down the line, the notion that we are all created in God’s image has to mean something. Otherwise, everything that follows in the Torah is nonsense. Either we together acknowledge the power and protection of American democracy, or we circle the wagons and wait. When American corporations intimate that they care about what is being said on their dime, I perk up. When the NBA draws a line for human decency, I am thrilled.

There are so many rivers to cross before we arrive at a place of true moral decency and equality. The power of antisemitism and racism and misogyny is still immense and still tolerated in so many places. This is why we speak out. This is why no one is free until all of us are free.

Getting ready for Passover is not only an act; it’s a series of several acts. There are, of course, several lists online, because the Internet loves lists. They all pretty much boil down to the following:

• Cleaning: In traditional homes, this means an aggressive, violent war fought against chametz using steel wool, blowtorches, boiling water, chemical solvents, and vacuum cleaners. It also requires severely beating rugs and pillows and cushions, etc. This is all done to make certain that there is no, no leavened products or crumbs stuck in the couch, on the counters, in the bedrooms, and so forth. No corner of the house is exempt.
• Shopping: It’s all about the “Kosher for Passover” labels. You cannot use open products in a kosher for Passover home. Everything from sponges to cleanser to detergent to dish soap to bar soap to spices… In other words, anything potentially “contaminated” by chametz cannot be used during the holiday. Milk and eggs should be bought before the holiday and don’t need certification. Yogurt, cream cheese, etc do require certification. It’s a Herculean task, and the expense is no light load! I advise buying a few ‘out there’ matzos, made from different kosher for Passover grains. We always buy a box of “shmurah Matzo”, which costs a fortune because it’s a handmade, artisanal product. As near as I can tell, it looks like matzo did 2000 years ago. It also tastes like it was baked 2000 years ago…

• Book buying: The right Haggadah is important. If you don’t like it, you feel like your seder is being held hostage by a book. Well, don’t let your celebration get bogged down by readings and songs you don’t know or don’t like. There are so many options now, at least 60 on Amazon! Call me if you need a hand. I can’t give a blanket opinion without knowing who’s coming to dinner…
• Cooking: Cooking a beautiful Passover meal is a big part of the holiday. Don’t forget, we are to sit – no, loll around the table as if we were Roman aristocracy. That’s why we recline when we drink the wine – we are lords and ladies who are not in a hurry to finish to get back to work. We are free men and women and children; no one is telling us what to do.
• As the head chef for Passover, I like to serve traditional dishes; for us that includes matzo ball soup, gefilte fish, chopped liver, brisket, apple matzo kugel, and tzimmes. I also add a few new things every year. I find that Epicurious.com is a great source of ideas, as is https://cooking.nytimes.com.

• Prepping yourself. It’s easy to get so wrapped up in the meal and the seating and the family issues that sometimes arise. And while that’s all real, so too is the underlying reason for us all to gather. We are retelling an ancient story of journeying from from one place to another, from one state of being to another. We move from the constricting limits of enslavement and oppression to the vast openness of freedom. We were once slaves – but no longer. However, there are still people in our world who cannot make the same claim, and their pain must lessen our loud shouts of joy. Solomon Burke sings, “None of us are free/When one of is chained/Then none of us are free.”

He’s right, of course. And how can we avoid thinking of the refugees in the world now, people struggling to find a safe place for themselves and their children and their parents? The HIAS Passover supplement includes these words: “Throughout our history, violence and persecution have driven the Jewish people to wander in search of a safe place to call home. We are a refugee people. At the Passover Seder, we gather to retell the story of our original wandering and the freedom we found. But we do not just retell the story. We are commanded to imagine ourselves as though we, personally, went forth from Egypt – to imagine the experience of being victimized because of who we are, of being enslaved, and of being freed. As we step into this historical experience, we cannot help but draw to mind the 65 million displaced people and refugees around the world today fleeing violence and persecution, searching for protection. Like our ancestors, today’s refugees experience displacement, uncertainty, lack of resources, and the complete disruption of their lives.”

How can we not include some of this in our seder? Feast for our freedom! Celebrate our liberation! And then commit to doing something to make a difference for those who know what we knew about loss and fear and rejection. Where some say no, we must say yes. Where some close the door, we must open it. We can’t change the world or make significant policy decisions. But we can – we must – do the work of social justice. Because if we don’t, who will? Because if we don’t, we’re headed right to Egypt again.

Feast for our freedom! Celebrate our liberation! And then commit to doing something to make a difference for those who know what we knew about loss and fear and rejection. Where some say no, we must say yes. Where some close the door, we must open it. We can’t change the world or make significant policy decisions. But we can – we must – do the work of social justice. Because if we don’t, who will? Because if we don’t, we’re headed right to Egypt again.

Shabbat Shalom

rebhayim