The Webs We Weave Rosh HaShana 5773

Rosh HaShannah 5773 "I’m Not a Joiner" Rabbi Susie Heneson Moskowitz Nature never ceases to amaze me. I am enthralled by the plants that flower each season and the beautiful sunsets that set over the beach. The way tiny insects work and how nature is constantly asserting itself in our lives. As I was rudely reminded of the other day when I walked right through a spider web! Lately, I have noticed a preponderance of spider webs around our house. I have seen them in the corners of windows, between the slats on the decks and my favorite are the ones that have been spun between the mailbox and the light post near the corner of our driveway. When an insect flies into the web, the entire structure vibrates letting the spider know that dinner has arrived. Even though the insect only gets caught in one part of the web, the whole system is affected. Tonight we will explore the webs we weave and the ones we don’t. The ones we have to create and the ones that get spun in the nooks and crevices of our lives. Some are obvious, and there are others of which we forget we are a part. The University of Michigan asks in its application- “Describe a community to which you belong and your place within it?” As Ari was contemplating the answer to this question the obvious came to mind- clubs, sports teams, youth group- but that wasn’t the question- it didn’t say to which clubs do you belong? Or what activities do you do? The question was to describe a communities to which you belong and your place within it? Ask yourself this question. We find ourselves in many communities. On the microcosmic level we are in community with those who live in our homes, the people we interact with everyday. On the other extreme we are part of the global community. A community made up of people we will never meet but on whom we might depend and of people who are affected by our actions thousands of miles away. In between you could be part of your school, your town, your synagogue, your country, your intellectual heritage. Or your could be part of a community of people who are great orators and wear purple robes and bow ties!!! We are part of many communities but the ones that really count are the ones in which we reach out to others. The ones in which we extend ourselves and show that we care. Let me tell you an amazing story. Nadav was within a few hours of reaching the 29,028 foot summit of Mt. Everest when he discovered Aydin, who was coming back from the peak, near death. He shook Aydin who moaned slightly. Nadav realized Aydin was still alive and faced an agonizing choice. The custom among Everest climbers is not to even attempt to rescue another climber in the so-called death zone, 3,000 feet from the summit. It is a place that cannot sustain human life and climbers are dependent on the small oxygen tanks they carry. To rescue another is to almost always guarantee death not for one but for both climbers. Only moments before, Nadav had passed two dead climbers, whose frozen graves will remain only a few feet from the world’s highest peak. But Nadav ben Yehuda, a 24-year-old Israeli, and Aydin Irmak, a 46-year-old Turk, had become friends in the weeks they spent at Katmandu’s base camp preparing for the summit. Nadav decided to attempt the impossible. He carried Aydin on his shoulders part of the way, and at other times, harnessed him to his body, gripping the dying climber between his legs as they descended. Soon Nadav’s oxygen canister froze and he was without the much-needed oxygen. Even his Sherpa guide, who he met on the descent, could not offer any aid, as that would increase the risk that all three might die. Nadav removed two of his gloves in order to use his fingers better, causing immediate frostbite that might still, three months later, lead to partial amputation. Somehow Nadav Ben Yehuda managed to carry Aydin Irmak to Camp Four where they both received emergency medical treatment. Nadav has been called a hero for giving up his dream of summiting Everest. He does not however see himself as a hero. Saving a life was more important than reaching the top of the world. He says, “My goal was not to become a hero, but to bring Israel back to the mountains. I am not a hero but I am completely Israeli.” The choice he faced at 26,000 feet was anguishing. When asked why he flouted Everest tradition and perhaps even good sense, he said, “…I realized I knew the guy, it was not like a man is trouble, it was a friend in trouble.” “Aydin Irmak was my friend.” A connection had been formed at the base camp in Katmandu. A web had been woven between these two climbers. To borrow from the twentieth century Jewish theologian, Martin Buber, an I-Thou connection had been made. Nadav’s words, “…I realized I knew the guy, it was not like a man is trouble, it was a friend in trouble.” Are the key. How do we go from making someone an It, an object, an unknown man in trouble to a Thou, a friend in need? When he returned to Israel there could have been several responses. The county could have been disappointed that he didn’t summit. That he didn’t reach his goal of becoming the youngest Israeli and only the fifth Israeli ever to achieve this feat. However that wasn’t the response. Instead the country threw a ticker tape parade to celebrate that he valued another human being’s life over his own glory. In so doing Israel is saying the best part of our humanity is helping others. That it is putting other human beings first, that makes us a community. What does it mean to care? To care about someone or something else. It is almost impossible to care about someone or something you don’t know about. It seems we need a sense of connection in order for us to care. To connect we to need to know people’s stories and to know their names. Many charities know this and use stories of real people to inspire us to want to give. KIVA, is a charity that offers microloans to help people all over the world start or improve their small businesses. What makes Kiva unique is that they post the story of each recipient and allow the donor to choose exactly who he or she would like to lend money too. I read a bunch of stories and I was particularly moved by the story and dreams of a farm stand collective in Bolivia and a by a women, Tali, who wanted to expand a cosmetic company in Israel. I even check back periodically to see how they are doing. I read a wonderful definition of community “ …a place where when you are absent you are missed and when you are present people know your name.” The sitcom Cheers, cornered the market on the phrase, but it is true. So where does that connection start? It is in the little things we do. Diane Ackerman, in “A Natural History of the Senses” reports on a study done about touch. A librarian was told to lightly touch the patron’s hand when returning their library card or a book; and then the patrons completed a satisfaction survey on the way out. Even this seemingly inconsequential touch caused greater customer satisfaction. In a similar study, if a waitress made, again, a grazing touch, she received larger tips. Human contact, something we can all offer, makes a difference. It is one way we create our webs of connection. But contact isn’t enough. We need to be passionate, to care deeply. That is what elevates our humanity. People often say, “I am not a joiner. I don’t really have time to get involved.” But do we have the right to say no to the community. Do we have the right to say, “I am not a joiner”? Judaism compels us to get involved, to join in the community. And what does “I am not a joiner” really mean? I am not passionate enough about that cause? I am not a joiner because other people will take care of it. We should never say, “We are not joiners.” If we wait too long to get involved, if we wait until what we value is in jeopardy, it might be too late to make a meaningful impact. Go back to the question I asked at the beginning... Describe a community to which you belong and what is your role in it? Of course there are communities we are just part of, but to really belong means to get involved. Sometimes we underestimate the importance of our own role in the community. As this election approaches there are statistics about the lack of voter participation. We have the gift of being part of a society that cares about what we think. I would imagine most of us would describe ourselves as being part of the community of the United States of America. But if you don’t vote, even in a state like NY, where our votes are not considered crucial, if you don’t vote, can you define yourself as being a member of the community. The Talmud, which is not describing a democracy, teaches that our input is valued in choosing our leaders when it says, “A ruler is not to be appointed unless the community is first consulted.” (B'rachot 55a). It takes a little bit of effort, but we must continue to value the privilege and perform the mitzvah of voting for our leaders. I have a category of heroes. My heroes are generally not celebrities, nor famous people. They don’t have to be rich or poor, young or old. My collection does not have boundaries like that. It is a collection of Involvement Heroes. Rabbi Danny Siegel calls them Giraffes- People who are willing to stick their necks out. And I don’t have to look far for some of my Involvement Heroes as many are right here in our congregation. It includes, the people who volunteered to be greeters at Religious School this past week and the ones who help out throughout the year. A congregant who started a dog rescue group/adoption group. Several congregants who volunteer regularly at the local soup kitchen or the outreach center. Congregants who are members of the School board, community improvement associations, the Huntington town board and obviously our temple boards and committees. The Kids and adults in our congregation who have created projects to help find cures for diseases, help cope with loss, to provide books for kids who don’t have bed time stories and to provide blankets to keep people warm in the winter. This list is only the tip of the iceberg. All of these people are real people, who I know and many of you know. This is one of the things I love about our Temple community. So many people are willing to get involved. I don’t think it is an accident that so many members of our temple community are involved in the world around them. And that we want to make a difference and believe that we can. Of course this is not an exclusive claim of Jews but it is a Jewish value. Our tradition teaches us- Al tifrosh min a tzibur – Rabbi Hillel says, Don’t separate yourself from the community. (Mishneh Avot 2:4/5) The text doesn’t say you have to be the leader or the president, but it reminds us that we must be part of the whole, a strand of the web. Rabbi Ralph Mecklenberg, in his book Our Religious Brains, credits our fascination with celebrities and I would say reality TV as “symptomatic of a deeper malaise in modern life, the lack, for many, of genuine community.” Why is this? When we watch celebrities we don’t have to do any work or take any risks. It is fairly easy to be involved in the life of Kim Kardashtian, her latest marriage, her clothes, her plastic surgeries. Her comings and goings can consume many hours of our time. It is much more difficult to connect to the ordinary, real people in our lives. The ones who have heartaches that we cannot mend, the ones who cry out, in pain, and need help. It takes time and effort. Isn’t that what we are trying to do here. Synagogues make it easier for us to fulfill this human desire to be part of a group. This summer we created TLC at TBT – Temple Loving Care at TBT: A Caring Community. Some Temples call these groups their Caring Committee, but we don’t want to just create a committee, that you can join or not. No we want to transform what it means to be a part of our synagogue. We want to make the obvious reason many people join a synagogue, to meet other people and feel connected through common purpose and in times of need, an integral part of TBT. This cannot just be a committee, it needs to be a community. This isn’t going to be another group, this is going to be the way people at Temple Beth Torah interact with one another. For some of us this has been naturally occurring, our friends are here anyway, but that is not enough. We are looking for a way to extend that caring to everyone in a way that is helpful and meaningful. This became personal for me. At my in-law’s Temple in Saint Louis, Sha’are Emeth, they have a mitzvah freezer. My mother in law, Marcia, has been cooking dinners for the mitzvah freezer since its inception. Meals are labeled and frozen and then other members of community deliver them to families who have a crisis, a hospitalization or a death. It is really a communal act of caring. But for my family this goes even deeper. When Marcia was recovering from major surgery the Rabbi called and asked if she and Carl would like a dinner or two delivered. Her first response was no, I cook meals for the freezer, I don’t need to take one, but then she realized that she did and that this was exactly the point. Remember that definition of community. A place where when you are absent you are missed and when you are present people know your name. That is what we want to be. We are in this community together, sometimes we will be able to give assistance and other times, not necessarily expected ones, we will be the recipient. I’m asking you now to consider yourself part of TLC at TBT. It might mean picking up a prescription for someone who is recovering from surgery, or stopping and picking up groceries for a mom with a broken leg. It could be a visit to check in and see how a member is doing a few weeks after a death in their family. I could go on and with a list ideas and you might have read some in the ARC, but TLC at TBT is meant to be different. It is about feeling the vibrations in one part of our web and responding. It is about each of us seeing what needs to be done to help someone else in our community and then stepping up and doing something to help. The rabbis in the midrash wondered at what speed the Israelites travelled while they were in the ancient wilderness. And they deduced that the Israelites moved at the rate of the slowest people in the group. Of course the strong and the fit could have raced ahead, but that wasn’t the point. They were all in this together, no one was going to be left behind. In the desert the Israelites knew they were dependent on one another for survival. Today we have different issues. We have to be aware that we might think we are connected when we really aren’t. We can be lulled into a false sense of community through Facebook and Twitter, in which we text one word answers and post cute pictures. I try not to bug Shira at college too much. So often I’ll just send quick text or and e-mail. “Did you get the package?” “Does your wrist feel better?” This is effective for transmitting information but it is not the same as hearing her voice and having a conversation or of being able to sit together and talk or sit together and not talk. Although my kids seem to do that with Skype and iChat. I’ll walk into the kitchen and realize there is another person on the screen even though no one is talking. I guess this is a new kind of community. The World Wide Web, another web, was supposed to bring us together, and in someways it has, but it also changed and I would argue diminished our definition of community. To quote my favorite rabbi, Rabbi Steve Moskowitz,| no offense to present company, | “Friendship appears no longer to be measured by… heroic choices but instead is quantified. We tally friends.” This is so true with the Facebook generation. We and certainly our children feel popular, based on the number of Facebook friends we have collected. Oo, you only have 334 friends, she has 2498 friends. We need to be careful. Technology is great, but it is not a substitute for human contact. We weave a stronger web when we reach out and help others face to face. Dr. Ruth was asked her new year’s resolution by Tablet magazine. She said The one thing you must do in the New Year is pay greater attention to the humans next to you than the gadget in your hand. No matter how much you love your phone, it will never hold your hand or make your heart flutter. If you want to have a productive year, if you want to feel the warmth of human contact, if you want to marry or stay married, have children and get the most that life has to offer, put your gadgets down and connect to those around you with your mind, your arms, and your heart. We need to become less dependent on the webs we weave by our cyberselves and more comfortable with the webs connecting us to the people sitting next to us. I would like to conclude with a story that reminds us that connections can come from small acts of caring and that even when we do not know all the ramifications of our actions, it is in reaching out- in learning people’s name, in learning their stories and in being there in times of need that we become connected, that we become a community. When King David was young, before he was King David, he was watching a spider spin its web and declared, “O, God, what a strange creature you made! This spider has no real use. It wastes its time. It spins a web but makes no clothing. And in the end, all that is left is just a sticky mess.” He was about to kill a spider when God answered him, “Do not think that any of My creatures is useless. The time will come when you may need even the spider.” Many years went by and David found himself being chased by King Saul’s soldiers who were trying to kill him. He came upon an area with many caves and ducked inside one. God called on the spider. Very quickly the spider spun a web across the opening of the cave in which David was hiding. David could hear the soldiers approaching and he waited very quietly. He heard footsteps approaching the cave and then I voice called out. “He’s not in here, this cave is covered by a huge web, no one has been here.” David offered a prayer of thanksgiving, “Spider you have saved my life. Blessed is your Creator, blessed are you!” We tonight we acknowledge our blessings: Blessed are the small and the great; Blessed is every creation; Blessed are the webs we weave; Blessed are the connections we create; Blessed are the vibrations we feel; Blessed are the lines that link us one to each other and each other to God. Sources: The Jerusalem Report, July 30, 2012 “The Man Who Saved the World” The Robert Slater Interview –Nadav Ben Yehuda Rabbi Ralph Mecklenberg, in his book Our Religious Brains: What Cognitive Science Reveals about Belief, Morality, Community and our Relationship with God, Jewish Lights, Skylight Paths, 2012, p. 138 Dr. Ruth Westheimer, sex therapist- http://www.tabletmag.com/jewish-life-and-religion/111841/rosh-hashanah-resolved-5773 The Essential Jewish Stories: Collected, Annotated and Retold by Seymour Rossel p.6