The article (which I would encourage you to read), tried to explain how Republican National Committee Chairman Reince Priebus believes in dignity and respect for all Americans, but that this doesn’t mean marriage equality. Apparently, he said:

“I don’t think it’s a matter of civil rights. I think it’s just a matter of whether or not we’re going to adhere to something that’s been historical and religious and legal in this country for many, many years… I mean, marriage has to have a definition, and we just happen to believe it’s between a man and woman.”

Ahem. “Marriage has to have a definition” and he gets to define it?

I am so incensed at the presumptuousness of the majority of the GOP. I’m actually more troubled by their co-opting of the religious narrative in this discussion because it has really been one of “religious people” versus “non-religious people.” But nowhere do I see my religious views, which are very liberal, represented. The assumption that all Western religions observed in our country reject marriage equality is baseless.

Further, I kept thinking of the arguments being used today and how the very same arguments were used until interracial marriage was made legal in the late 1960′s. The same arguments were made against so many minorities, demonized for the sake of control and power. I’m straight, but I identify with the feelings of persecution and simple unfairness.

Yeah… I do a bit of thinking at 4 a.m. And I couldn’t get back to sleep. Instead, a poem started in my mind in response. I’m sure if you’re reading this, I’m preaching to the choir, but I just wish people would remember that we live in a civil society, not a religious one. So here’s my response to Mr. Priebus and his ilk:

You might believe it’s unnatural but it is
Despite your beliefs
It may make you uncomfortable
But it doesn’t concern you
You might want to blot it out
But it’s not going away
You may want to fight it on grounds of morality
But it’s immoral to deny someone’s existence
You might think it threatens you
But you have created the threat of bigotry
You may want to lean on history to define the future
But the past merely points out our mistakes
You might want to make the world in your image
But it’s ours and it must be shared
You may think your position is the only right one
But you are wrong
The progress of humanity is a future where people can be who they are meant to be
Not who you want or need them to be
If my actions threaten you bodily
If I am violent towards you
Then defend yourself
If my actions threaten your mind or spirit
If my existence threatens you
Then you need to get over it
Because I exist
I have every right to be the fully realized human I was meant to be
Same as you
And just because someone tells you I am evil
Does not make it so
I am human
Same as you
I love
I hurt
I feel
I cry
I laugh
Your needs to feel better about yourself do not outweigh my need to be myself
Live how you will
But afford me the same
We are sisters and brothers in the human family
No matter whom we love
Or how we love
You are hurting your family

Stop it.

Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2012 Erik Contzius

So many people came to share in the celebration and even perform! It was really awesome to have members of the Westchester Chordsmen make an appearance, along with cantorial colleagues and musical compatriots.

They made an awesome online journal with all the details.

I’ll write more about the experience soon, but here’s a video directed by Daniel Mendelson that was a big hit during the evening:

TINR Gala Tribute

As an added bonus, a lot of politicians were on hand with proclamations and such. What’s cool is that these are actually read into official governmental records. Rep. Eliot Engel’s remarks appeared on CapitalWords.org. Awesome!

Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2012 Erik Contzius

I want to share it with you, for free! I just ask that you share it with others!

I recently had an article published in the URJ’s 10 Minutes of Torah series. I talked about the musical treatment of the counting, whereas Dr. Richard Sarason wrote in his article about the origin of the counting and its execution throughout history. There’s some really good music to be heard there, so please give it a read!

Each year since 2007, I’ve been publishing a convenient Omer Counting guide just for Shabbatot. It’s a convenient thing I keep on the pulpit so I don’t have to remember what day goes where! If you find use for it, let me know! Download yours today!

But where are all the great Hanukkah songs? Where is the Jewish “White Christmas?”

Of course, it should be obvious that Hanukkah is not on par with Christmas as far as importance is concerned. It’s a very minor holiday on the Jewish calendar. And yet, it falls in the season of affective mood disorder and plenty of snow if you live in the northern half of the United States. We want to participate in the season somehow, and music seems an obvious part of it.

Thankfully, there is more Hanukkah music being written each year. Some of it is even appearing in popular places, like Starbucks. Go there today, and you’re likely to find an album by a Portland, Oregon group called, “Pink Martini.” Their CD, Joy to the World, is primarily a Christmas album, but does feature a few Jewish songs on there, and you can find it while you’re sipping that latte!

The Leevees came out a few years ago with a great rockin’ album called (and appropriately so), Hanukkah Rocks. It’s a great alternative to anything out there, really. A great deal of fun. My son especially digs the tune, “Gelt Melts!” And it does if you leave it in your pocket!

Songs in the Key of Hanukkah

If you’re remotely familiar with Borat, creation of Sacha Baron Cohen, you might be interested in the music of his brother, Erran. Songs in the Key of Hanukkah is another take on some traditional Ashkenazi melodies for the season, sprinkled with some original tunes.

In 2006, Craig N Co. put out a cool instrumental album called, “The Hanukkah Lounge,” which is great for your driving around town going Hanukkah shopping. I especially like “Descarga Ocho Kandelikas” by The Afro-Semitic Experience and Frank London’s “Drey Dreydele.”

Looking for some silly tunes? Famous funny man and songwriter, Tom Lehrer wrote “Hanukkah in Santa Monica” for Garrison Keillor and it’s a real panic! And, of course, there’s Adam Sandler’s very famous “Chanukah Song” from Saturday Night Live.

Need something a bit more serious? I happen to love the Milken Archive’s “Hanukkah Celebration.” It is a great choral collection and a nice antidote to some of the Christmas carols out there. Or if you want to kick it “old school,” you must immediately get the “double CD” (ha! It’s in mp3 format!) of Moishe Oysher, which includes his Chanukah Party. What ever new things get put out there, I always come back to this album. It’s that awesome!

You can always go to iTunes and look at a list like this. You’ll see familiar groups like Barenaked Ladies and They Might Be Giants mixed in with some unfamiliar musicians, but there’s a lot out there, and fortunately, they’re making more music!

Reines wrote: “Religion is the human person’s response to the conflict of finitude. Stated more fully: (it) is the human person’s response to the psychic conflict produced by the clash between the awareness of finity and… the passionate desire not to be finite… The ideal purpose of a religion is to provide a response… to resolve the conflict and…. attain a state of ultimate meaningful existence.”

Rabbi Alvin Reines

This is our charge as human beings: To find “ultimate meaningful existence” during the limited time we have here on Earth.

This is a sentiment which has been broadcast across the world all over the media for the past few days. On October 5, just four days ago, Steve Jobs, co-founder, chairman, and CEO of Apple Inc., as well as former chief executive of Pixar Animation Studios, passed away at the young age of 56, after a seven year battle with pancreatic cancer.

I personally never met Mr. Jobs. But his impact on me and on millions has been profound. My first personal computer was the Apple II+ back in the early 80’s. I saw my first Macintosh in our high school’s library, and I was blown away by its innovative interface. I’ve owned several Mac computers, laptops, several iPods, and two iPhones. Even if you have never used a Mac computer, you may still own and use an iPod for your entire music collection, or connect on an iPhone.

Steve Jobs

The beauty of Mr. Jobs’ designs, the elegance and demand for greatness in all of the products his company produced, is still unmatched in the industry. He was an innovator, an inventor, a visionary and an artist. He was uncompromising and driven—a perfectionist. More Picasso than Edison, Jobs could envision a future that was “insanely great,” and he made it his life’s mission to “think different.”

The world is mourning his loss because he gave us a digital age which feels more human than machine. His products were all designed not as computers as much as interfaces to new opportunities and new ways of experiencing the world, whether through the printed word, music, pictures, movies… and he made it simple and unobtrusive.

But more than that, Steve Jobs gave the world some very real and relevant life lessons. Around the internet, people are sending one another a video of Mr. Jobs giving the commencement address at Stanford University in 2005. During his address, he told the graduating class the following:

When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: “If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you’ll most certainly be right.” It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: “If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?” And whenever the answer has been “No” for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

He then went on to talk about his diagnosis of cancer, about how it put things into perspective for him even more. Of his facing death, he said:

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don’t want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life’s change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.

Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

Mr. Jobs lived his life constantly trying to improve himself and improve his work.

How many of us can say the same?

Last night, Rabbi Weiner charged us to re-prioritize our lives, to ensure that the people and things most valued to us would be front and center in our hearts and minds. Death is a great reminder that if we really want to not live a life of regret and diminishing returns, we need to start now.

Today.

The single-most tragic thing about Mr. Jobs’ death is that he only had 56 years with our human family—56 years to share his talents, 56 years of love and friendship. Would we all live to 120 as did Moses our Teacher! But our time is but lent to us, and some pass earlier than others. And knowing that each day—each moment—is precious, Mr. Jobs made sure he embraced all the time he had towards realizing his grand vision.

Most of us this afternoon are here to remember a loved one who has gone on to life eternal. We are saddened at their loss, whether last week or decades ago: A cherished father or mother, who raised a family of responsible and self-sufficient children; an honored grandmother or grandfather, who gave unconditional and limitless love in many forms; a good friend and mentor who made a profound impact; a brother or sister, who was steadfast at our side when no one else was there; a partner or spouse, whose affections, friendship, and warmth gave us hope and strength; a child or grandchild, taken away from the world too soon.

The point is, any time death comes, it comes too soon. The octogenarian has wisdom to offer, but still much to learn. The adolescent who thinks he or she knows everything already, has so much more to experience. Each of us can learn more, grow more, love more.

If the lives of our loved ones are to truly be a blessing, we must use this hour of Yizkor, of remembrance and memorial, and reflect on all that was good and enduring in their lives, and ensure that those cherished values are perpetuated to the next generation, and out into the world. And when we leave this space together, after having joined as one family in mourning, leaning on one another for support, we need to live each day as a living tribute to those who have gone. This doesn’t mean dwelling in sorrow for what we have lost, but rather taking heart that our loved ones gave us the best of themselves, and have inspired us to become better, and live our lives more fully.

We are saddened by loss. Living our lives as they might have dreamed of doing will encourage us. An indelible impression was left on our hearts. And our hearts beat more fully with their memory.

On the Apple website is a simple picture of Steve Jobs. If you click on it, a simple message appears:

Apple has lost a visionary and creative genius, and the world has lost an amazing human being. Those of us who have been fortunate enough to know and work with Steve have lost a dear friend and an inspiring mentor. Steve leaves behind a company that only he could have built, and his spirit will forever be the foundation of Apple.

Our loved ones are our foundation. They were “amazing human beings” to us. When we remember them, our foundation grows ever stronger. And we honor them when we not only recall their memory, but when we embrace that memory, allowing it to inspire us to be better people.

On this Yom Kippur afternoon, let us try to find some comfort and solace in the face of loss. Let us be emboldened by the legacy left to us by our dear ones. And Let us find healing knowing that our loved one’s memory will endure as long as we remember.

Amen.

As with other capital cases in which someone is sentenced to death, there was a great outcry by individuals, groups—even the Pope—to stay the execution on the grounds that the death penalty is a form of “cruel and unusual punishment,” and should not be meted out by any civilized country. But people were not rushing to Troy Davis’ defense simply because they found capital punishment repugnant and inhumane. They did so because there seemed to be too many flaws in the trial and conviction of a man who, for the past 20 years, proclaimed his innocence.

In the time since that tragic August of 1989, no physical evidence was ever provided linking Troy to the murder of which he was accused. Seven witnesses out of nine, who, at one trial, testified to Mr. Davis committing the crime, recanted or changed their testimony. Many said later that the police coerced their testimony at the time. In fact, some evidence came to light that the initial person who pointed out Davis as the shooter, Sylvester “Red” Coles, might have been the killer himself. Furthermore, Davis was a black man convicted of killing a white police officer. The pressure by the state to get a conviction in this case was unrelenting, and it seems that Mr. Davis was convicted by the state as a small attempt to achieve justice.

Troy Davis’ attempts to appeal his case were greatly hampered, especially in 1995, when the federal funding of the Georgia Resource Center, which helped represent Davis, was cut by 70%. There was too much work needed to prepare for his appeals, and simply not enough  resources.

Former federal prosecutor and contributing writer to CNN.com, Mark Osler, shared with his readers that the most meaningful cases in law almost always involve “a clash of virtues.”

What virtues were clashing in the case of Troy Davis?

Clearly, there was the virtue of mercy—the voices of protest in society rang out loud in attempts to overturn or at least delay Davis’ execution in the pursuit of greater deliberation. We know as a society we value mercy: otherwise presidents and governors would not have the power of the pardon. Historically, our leaders and courts have heeded the call for mercy, taking into consideration many factors tempering their judgments.

In conflict with the virtue of mercy was another societal value: The “Finality of Judgment,” a judicial power that has been in use since 1792. As Osler explains, the “Finality of Judgment,” is a concept that, “…once a verdict and judgment are rendered, it should be difficult to upset. Victims’ family members sometimes see a promise in that judgment, and finality renders a certainty to the process that some see as promoting deterrence of crime.” This is why even though Davis’ case came before the Supreme Court of the United States, the ruling against him stood. “Finality of Judgment” was derived from case law, and Osler points out that this virtue is not rooted in the Constitution of the United States, unlike deliberation and mercy.

Nor is this idea of “Finality of Judgment” rooted in our Jewish value system.

Looking at capital punishment in isolation, Judaism only allows for the death sentence in the hypothetical. The Torah lists a hosts of crimes for which the punishment is death, but in 30 C.E., the Sanhedrin (effectively the supreme court of Ancient Israel), effectively abolished capital punishment, saying that it is only fitting for God alone to use, not we flawed human beings.

But moreover, this American notion of “Finality of Judgment” implies that our judicial system is infallible, and those who implement it—our judges, our jurors, our witnesses, our prosecutors—are infallible as well. It also implies that however we behave as human beings, when we are evaluated, there is nothing we can do to change that judgment.

This is what is most troubling about the Davis case, especially around the Days of Awe and Repentance.

Throughout our High Holy Days, we read over and over about how we are being judged by the Divine Court for all our sins. We are trembling and afraid. In the “Unetane Tokef” prayer we read:

…[God], in truth You are
Judge and Arbiter, Counsel and Witness.
You write and You seal, You record and recount…
…As the shepherd seeks out the flock,
and makes the sheep pass under the staff,
so do You muster and number and consider
every soul,
setting the bounds of every creature’s life,
and decreeing its destiny.
On Rosh Hashanah it is written,
on Yom Kippur it is sealed:
How many shall pass on, how many shall come to be;
who shall live and who shall die…
And yet, we take comfort when we read:
But REPENTANCE, PRAYER and CHARITY
temper judgment’s sever decree.

We call Rosh Hashanah, “Yom HaZikaron: the Day of Remembrance.” It is a day when we come before the Divine and ask God to remember us on this judgment day. And throughout this time period, we take heart that if we are repentant, contrite, and atone for our sins, we will be judged fairly and with mercy.

We plead aloud: “Avinu Malkeinu.” We say “Avinu” first, appealing to our Divine parent, who has an open ear and an understanding heart; we then come before “Malkeinu,” our Divine Ruler. Mercy and Justice are both balanced on high. We know we have had our rough moments through this past year. We understand that we are weak and not without fault. And yet we ask for justice which takes into consideration where are hearts and minds are now. Perhaps after inflicting hurt on another, whether purposefully or by accident, we can only now empathize with the one we have wronged, and make atonement. Mercy allows for us sinners to actually grow and become better people through contrition, repentance, and humility.

What does it say about us as a nation that through the example of Troy Davis our society and judicial process has raised this value of “Finality of Judgment” over mercy and deliberation? Was Mr. Davis truly given a fair trial, given due process, and thus his demise was fated regardless? That is difficult to say since the one and only punishment our court system cannot revoke is the death penalty. We can say, “We’re sorry–we made a mistake,” but we cannot bring a man back from death once a lethal injection has been administered.

If we adhere to the virtue of the “Finality of Judgment,” then what hope do any of us have on Yom Kippur, as we stand before the open ark, pleading for a better and brighter future for us and our families?

No—Jews must reject out of hand this idea that any judgment is absolutely final. Our human condition requires us to wrestle with our decisions and actions throughout our lifetimes, to beg for mercy when we have wronged others, but then to learn from our errors and arise as more whole people.

I cannot tell you with absolute certainty that Mr. Davis was an innocent man. But nor can I tell you with absolute certainty that Mr. Davis was a guilty man. My Judaism tells me that regardless of his guilt or innocence, what made him human—and what makes us human—is both a penchant to err, and an ability to repent and forgive. How one can truly repent for a capital crime is most difficult to answer, but one cannot take back a judgment as final as death.

We are in the season of introspection and reflection, of seeking forgiveness and granting pardon. And just as we would hope and expect “judgment’s severe decree” to be tempered by our prayers and deeds on this holiday, we would also hope and expect that we can turn to one another and grant that same pardon, seek that same forgiveness. Human beings have a great capacity for mercy when we want to employ it. This does not mean we abandon vigilance in our pursuit for justice in our society, righteousness within our community, or consonance between our family or friends. What it does mean is that, especially in this season and on this Shabbat Shuva, this Sabbath of turning towards the Divine and one another, that we act in the manner in which we were created: Divinely. As the Torah states, God is:

“…merciful and gracious, endlessly patient, loving, and true, showing mercy to thousands, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin, and granting pardon.”

Our nation will continue to debate the merits and flaws of allowing capital punishment. I am saddened that in the case of Troy Davis, it seems that neither was mercy granted, nor justice served. If his life and now death has any meaning for us, it should be to humble us and remind us that humans, from the powerful to the powerless, should not rush to judgment.

Repentance takes two people: The one seeking forgiveness and the one granting it. Many of us hold grudges, have prejudices, and make snap judgments. This season is not only about apologizing and making restitution, thereby conceding we are flawed, but also being able to let go of past hurt and granting pardon. To not allow another to be forgiven is to deny them the potential of becoming better. We should not create our own internal “Finality of Judgment” in our viewing of others. If Divine Judgment can be swayed by our actions, all the more so should human judgment be.

On this Shabbat Shuva, let us become more humble, more contrite. Let our hearts be open to the repentance of others and allow us to forgive more easily. Let us find in ourselves the ability to let go of pain and stubbornness, and embrace warmth and consideration. In this way, we may help one another towards a more whole and sweet new year.

Amen.

God passed by before [Moses] and proclaimed, “The Eternal God, the Eternal God, omnipotent, merciful and kind, slow to anger, with tremendous love and truth. Who remembers deeds of love for thousands [of generations], forgiving sin, rebellion and error. Who does not clear [those who do not repent], but keeps in mind the sins of the fathers to their children and grandchildren, to the third and fourth generation.”

Our Torah begins this week with Moses still atop Mount Sinai completing his receiving of the Law. It has been over a month that Moses was away from the newly redeemed Children of Israel. While he is in the presence of the Divine, the people below grow impatient. They demand of Aaron, Moses’ brother, that an idol be built so that they might have a god to worship. The Golden Calf is built. God tells Moses what has happened below and threatens to destroy them. But Moses argues that to do so would be to admit to their previous captors that God, with such great power and omniscience, cannot control a relatively small group of people. Moses reminds the Divine of the relationship with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. And God rescinds the threat.

Moses brings the stone Tablets of the Covenant down from the mountain. Now, with his own eyes, he sees the idolatrous practices of his kinsfolk. It is now he who becomes enraged, and in a great fit of anger, shatters the Tablets, burns the golden idol, and makes it into a powder, mixes it with water, and forcing the Israelites to drink it. He sees the sins performed by the Israelites and pleads with God to forgive them. Some punishment is doled out, but the people live on. It is then we hear not Moses describe God, but God describe the nature of Divinity:

“The Eternal God, the Eternal God, omnipotent, merciful and kind, slow to anger, with tremendous love and truth. Who remembers deeds of love for thousands [of generations], forgiving sin, rebellion and error.

To be Divine is to be merciful and kind; to be slow to anger; to have the capacity to forgive. But both God and Moses demonstrate that neither is free from immediate reaction nor emotion. Both are quick to anger. Both rush to judgement and are ready to punish. But both agree that cooler heads prevail. In one instance, Moses reminds God of the Divine relationship between God and the Children of Israel. In the other, God articulates to Moses the proper way to treat these Children.

We, human beings created in the Divine Image, need to remember this description of God. It does not exempt sinners from being punished, but neither does it encourage us to let our anger to rush to summary judgement.

Probably the most difficult thing we can experience in our lives is being hurt in some fashion and then, in the face of anger, frustration, and pain, not lash out.

As I might have shared with some of you, my grandfather was killed in a drunk driving accident. He was driving on the New York Thruway and a drunk driver on the opposite side of the highway crossed over, killing him instantly. My uncle, then a police officer, was called to the hospital to identify the body. After doing so, he asked about the other driver. He was told that the driver survived and was upstairs in the hospital. My uncle had a gun on his person. He went upstairs with rage in his heart—but with the greatest amount of strength he could muster, he kept his sidearm holstered. Over time, he funneled and transformed his anger, an anger that my whole family shared, and used his skill as a writer to write a book about the dangers of drinking and driving.

Can you just imagine? Not only being so distraught and in pain, but knowing where your father’s killer is, and addition having the means and opportunity to avenge his death, but then restraining yourself from turning one great tragedy into an even greater one. At the time that my grandfather was taken from me, I was a young teenager, and I only came to know these other details later in life. But I am grateful that my uncle had the strength to not rush to tragic action.

Being “slow to anger” is a nice mantra to work on, but in practice, many of us find that we are actually quick to anger. What needs to be tempered and reflected upon is how to respond to such anger. In the world of science fiction, we see characters like Spock in Star Trek, whose species evolved to a point where they saw that emotions were ultimately dangerous and needed to be purged from society. Or if you prefer Star Wars, there are Jedi Knights, who are to purge their baser emotions, become monastic, so that they might be focused and defend the light side of the force to protect the universe from the dark side. Why is this a theme that comes up in so much of fiction?

Authors, film makers, poets, all concede that emotions drive humans to do things that can be downright stupid, let alone harmful or awful. Many posit that in the future, perhaps we will be driven to the point that, like in Huxley’s “Brave New World,” it is better to have a society under severe control and the only way to get there is to eliminate feeling. Ultimately, authors point to that which we know to be true: It is not emotions that are the cause of our woes—it is the way we respond to those emotions.

God does not say that the Divine doesn’t become angry. Rather, there is the suggestion that God is but, “slow to anger.” Or that at least that is the ideal state. Anger serves a purpose, when it drives us to do good things. When we see acts of bigotry, racism, homophobia, we should be angry. But that should not drive us to meeting violent rhetoric and hate with more violent rhetoric and hate. Rather, we should channel our anger towards reasoned response.

This is especially true when our only awareness of what is happening in the world comes from one source or from only one vantage point. For example, it is very easy to point to events half way around the world in the Middle East and claim that everyone there acts in one way or believes one thing and therefore we should treat them in one way. As evidenced by what just transpired in Egypt, not all in the Arab world are fighting to support dictatorships, caliphates, or theocracies. As a nation, Egypt has shown herself to be dynamic, and should give hope to everyone around the world that people have great potential for change and growth.

Take our relationship with the modern State of Israel. Because we do not live there, we only know about what is happening there through those media devices to which we avail ourselves. We become narrow and wind up taking one position or another, which often leads to anger and resentment: “How can you feel that way?” “How can you support that organization?”… and so on. This is why instead of letting anger get the better of us, we can do positive things involving dialogue. This is why we are holding a panel discussion on what it means to be “Pro-Israel” here on Sunday, March 6 at 6:30 p.m. with three panel members who represent a wide diversity on this subject. Being angry means that we care about something. But being slow to anger means that we don’t let that anger get the better of us, but rather we work towards a positive resolution and greater understanding.

The Divine is willing to forgive “sin, rebellion and error.” As human beings, we are not only allowed to sin, rebel, and err, it is expected. It is what makes us human. None of us are flawless. But we become closer to the Divine ideal when we try to fight against our nature to better ourselves and be a beacon of hope for others. Anger stirs within each of us for a host of reasons. When we allow it to get the better of us, like Moses, we can act rashly, destroying something precious. After Moses destroys the Tablets of the Covenant, God tells Moses to carve two new Tablets. The Divine Promise is not forgotten. We can repair and rebuild. We can learn and grow.

But first, we need to learn how to better become “slow to anger.” This is one of the reasons we gather here to pray. We congregate in solidarity in order that we can be a group of human beings who learn to center ourselves. Prayer is a bridge towards a human ideal that individually we try to build, but collectively can unite and finish. It is easy to think that each of us is on a unique path, and that our pain and frustration is singular. When we realize that we are not alone feeling what we do, we can let go of our rashness and impulsive reactivity. We can breathe together, knowing that when anger plagues our hearts, it is not something new. We can share our experiences and learn from one another. This is the value of not simply living in a community, but being a full, active part in that community.

Moses had a daunting task of leading a community of “stiff-necked people.” It caused him great frustration and anger. Eventually that frustration would block him from entering the Promised Land. What is the Promised Land? That place in our hearts which feels but doesn’t consume us. It is a place of understanding and empathy. And it is a place where we might find wholeness and peace, if we just make the effort to become a little “slower to anger.”

May we find on this Shabbat a space and a place in which we can slow down, reflect, and better understand the fire in each of our hearts, and diminish the fire enough so that instead of a burning pain, it brings us a warmth of eventual enlightenment.

Kein Y’hi Ratzon. May this be God’s will.