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Rabbi's Message . . . October 2008

Traditions are more powerful than law. This is a concept known in many areas of life, but Judaism lends it an air of sanctity. What we call MINHAG HAMAKOM – the “Custom of a Place” – not only overrides what is legally accepted (we call this HALAKHAH), but often that MINHAG becomes the law itself. We find in the rabbinic literature many examples of a decision rendered by the rabbinical court overturned by the phrase: “But here we follow the custom of the place.” How do we say the SHEMA – sitting or standing? Do we rise for Kaddish as individuals or as a community?

Most interesting is how we pronounce the language of our ancestors. Many of us over the age of 50 remember learning Ashkenazic Hebrew (which substitutes “Aws” for “Ahs” and S’s for T’s) for our Bar or Bat (Bas) Mitzvah. Certainly, most of our parents and grandparents read the liturgy and the Sabbath blessings in the East European linguistic tradition. Then came 1967 and the Six-Day War. Israel moved into our American-Jewish consciousness and we were anxious to embrace her customs and people. Therefore Sephardic Hebrew – the way Israelis “speak” – became the desired way to pronounce a language that was only revived as a “spoken” language in the late 19th century.

When I studied in Israel during my first year of rabbinic school, I learned to speak and read Hebrew in the Sephardic fashion. At Temple Emanu- El of New York, I returned to the old Ashkenazic pronunciation. In Greenwich, back to Sephardic, and I continue that – that is the Temple Israel MINHAG – in West Palm Beach. However, I do retain one Ashkenazic element in the service – the reading of Kaddish. Why? That is the language in which my father and grandfather davened, and when I recite that prayer in the “old style” I feel as if I am connected more closely to them.

Meanwhile, it would be illuminating for you to know how many “Ashkenaz-isms” we retain in our pronunciation, despite our preference these days for Sephardic Hebrew. If you would like to pursue this on an academic level, please contact me directly. I will be teaching courses in Beginning Hebrew and Biblical Hebrew. I have often subscribed to the concept that “Judaism is Hebrew and Hebrew is Judaism.”

Study with me. You’ll see what I mean.

B’shalom (Sephardic)
B’sholom (Ashkenazic)
In peace,

Rabbi Chapin

Cantor's Notes . . . October 2008

This past August, Rabbi Chapin and I presided over a “De-Consecration” of the sanctuary in our Flagler Drive facility. With reflection and and removed all the mezuzot from the doorposts of the building. During the ceremony, I commented that – in and of itself – the room that had served as Temple Israel’s sanctuary for so many years was nothing more than bricks and mortar which possessed no more intrinsic holiness than the local cinema. What made it holy was our coming together as a community of Jews in prayer in the presence of the Torah, and all of the precious and inspirational moments – both communal and individual – that we shared within that space.

The Eternal Light has a new home . . . and (at least for a while) so do we. It is called Gruber Hall at the JCC, and those who have seen it will surely agree that we have turned it into a beautiful sanctuary. Many people deserve credit for turning an unattractive auditorium into a space that any congregation would be proud to call their temporary sanctuary. Special recognition needs to go to our congregant, Alisa Maltz, whose eye for color and design really transformed the room, and the JCC’s Executive Director, Michelle Wasch, for all her help and encouragement, as well as to the generous financial supporters of the project and the Board of the Jewish Community Center.

Our “kick-off” event on September 5th was a tremendous success on so many levels. The energy level was high and it was gratifying to see so many of you come out to support the temple. One of the central elements of the service that night was the return of the Scott Marischen Jazz Harp Trio (otherwise known as Temple Israel’s “First Friday Band”) after a hiatus of three years. I am delighted to announce that these wonderful musicians will be joining us on the First Friday of (almost) every month to enhance and re-invigorate our worship with new texture and color.

On my recent trip to Los Angeles as part of a delegation of local synagogue leaders sponsored by our Jewish Federation, one of the messages could not have been clearer. . . if we want worship to be relevant and attractive – especially to younger people – music is the key element. While in L.A. we attended “Friday Night Live” co-created by musician Craig Taubman and Rabbi David Wolpe, which is almost entirely musical and utilizes a large group of talented musicians. On the Shabbat we attended, there were over 600 people under the age of 40 . . . and that, we were told, was a small crowd for them. Granted . . . West Palm is definitely not L.A., but we need to try anyway.

The next time you can experience our band will be a very different type of service from September 5th. It will be on October 3rd which is “Shabbat Shuvah” – the “Sabbath of Repentance” – which comes between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. The feeling of the music will be more introspective and meditative in keeping with the theme of the evening.

Two weeks later, on Friday, October 17th – during our “Fall Festival Celebration” – we will celebrate both Sukkot and Simchat Torah by shaking the lulav and unrolling the entire Torah scroll. There will be fun and games for the kids (including a “Bounce House” and master Story Teller), “Pizza- in-the-Hut” and lots of singing and dancing. And . . . a klezmer clarinetist leading the band. It will be a joyous night.

Please mark your calendars for these two very different – but equally inspiring worship experiences.

Cantor Offenkrantz


	Rabbi's Message . . . September 2008 Since the genesis of the world, God has asked all of our ancestors from Abraham to Moses the Hebrew question AYECA – Where are you? The answer God expects in Hebrew is HINENI: I am here. What does this mean? Certainly God knows where we are. He knew that Adam and Eve were hiding from Him after disobeying his command not to eat of the fruit of the tree in the Garden of Eden. The question God truly asked was metaphysical. That is, God wanted to know the spiritual dimension of the crown of His Creation. And God wanted Adam and Eve to know what they had risked and what they had lost in submitting to the wiles of the serpent. He seemed to be saying: “Consider well how you have fallen from the heights; where is your exalted status?” How we live our lives, Jews believe, is God’s primary concern. We are put on earth for a purpose and it is the acceptance of our mission that God wants: “to do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly before the Lord.” These words of the prophet Micah should inspire and motivate us each day of our existence, and although there are a multitude of trials and temptations we all face, it is through belief in the God of our ancestors that we have strength to carry on. I have had the privilege of serving Temple Israel since the 28th of Sivan 5768 (in our secular calendar, July 1). I am here physically each day in our new administrative offices on Harvard Circle, but I am also on the move – visiting hospitals, meeting representatives of various Jewish institutions in the greater West Palm Beach community, and dining with congregants at breakfast, lunch and dinner – if “we are what we eat” then I’d say we have every reason to be optimistic about our congregational future! The generosity and warmth bestowed upon me have been overwhelming! Like our beloved emeritus rabbi, Howard Shapiro, I believe it is a privilege to serve the Jewish people. In my career as a rabbi I have always encouraged congregants to seek higher elevations in their lives. We have so many mundane concerns that pervade every area of our existence. Take the time – through study, prayer, community service – to raise the level of your spiritual presence. The physical world is tempting, but its fulfillment is not our religious destination. I have been welcomed in numerous and gratifying ways – beginning with the ministrations of the Search Committee a full year ago. I am enjoying the wonderful members of our staff and the Board, led so ably by our temple president, Roslyn Leopold. Let me take the opportunity to welcome you now inside and outside of Temple Israel. We have moved only physically. Everything else, we pray now and throughout the length of our sojourn, remains intact. Let us anticipate an exquisitely fulfilling Yom Tov season together. B’Shalom, Rabbi Chapin
	Cantor's Notes . . . September 2008 They say that the three most stressful events in life are the loss of a loved one, changing careers, and moving. If you have ever packed up a home, you know what a big job it is. Now try to imagine packing up an entire congregation with all of the prayer books, lecterns, computer stations, desks, file cabinets, religious school supplies, pianos, library books, Judaic art, ritual objects, memorial plaques, and Torah scrolls. It is a monumental task, but the fact that it has gone so smoothly – at least thus far – is a testament to the lay- leadership, professional staff, support staff and dedicated volunteers of our congregation. Two people deserve special recognition for their efforts, which were above and beyond the call of duty: our Executive Director, Linda Solomon, and our Custodian, Earnton Mosley. They have done, and continue to do, an incredible job during this challenging time of transition. No doubt, there will be some glitches and missteps along the way as we settle in to our new offices at Harvard Circle and our new “sanctuary” and programmatic spaces at the JCC, but hopefully things will run smoothly. We know that we can count on your patience and understanding! Speaking of transition....I would like to extend the warmest of welcomes to Rabbi Richard Chapin. As I write this in late July, Rabbi Chapin and I have already had the opportunity to work together for several weeks, not only conducting Shabbat services together, but also – along with our Education Director, Peter Eckstein – brainstorming about how best to meet the spiritual, educational and social needs of our congregants, attract new members, and build a stronger and more diverse community. We have some exciting plans and new approaches in store! If you have had the pleasure of meeting and interacting with Rabbi Chapin, then you already know that what I am about to say is true. If you have not..you will soon find out that our new rabbi is an extremely warm, down-to-earth and approachable person. He is enthusiastic, experienced, sincere, knowledgeable, outgoing, and most importantly – kind. In the short span of time that I have worked with him, I can already say that I like him very much, and I know that you will too. Back to packing and moving... It has its good side too. You get to throw out a lot of old garbage that has been piling up over time and wasting space. You also get an opportunity to separate the “stuff” that is really important from the rest of the heap. Packing and moving give you a chance to get your house in order and start fresh. We all have a yearly opportunity to get our emotional and spiritual “houses” in order and start fresh as well...it’s called the High Holy Days. What old garbage is cluttering up our lives? What in our lives is truly precious and what is simply background noise? Every year, we have the chance to take a personal inventory, not of material possessions, but of our very being. May we all have a minimally stressful but maximally productive personal inventory during the upcoming High Holy Days, and may the year 5769 be one of good health, happiness and peace for you and your loved ones. L’Shanah Tovah Tikateivu v’Tichateimu. May you be inscribed and sealed for a Good Year. Cantor Paul Offenkrantz


	Cantor's Notes . . . June 2008 At this time of year... when the mercury rises and the “snow birds” have all flown back to their northern habitats, I usually use this opportunity to reflect on the past several months of worship, learning, cultural enrichment, friendship and social action that have defined – and continue to define – Temple Israel of West Palm Beach. I also usually tell you about some of the exciting plans we are working on for the next Temple “season”... I say usually because this year has not been like most other years... and June 2008 is certainly not like most other Junes. Not if you are a part of the Temple Israel family. I say usually... because this moment in our congregation’s history demands something else. Although we have certainly shared many recent wonderful moments together and do have exciting things in store.. I need to salute my friend, mentor and colleague, Rabbi Howard Shapiro, as he transitions into a new stage of his life – and assumes the esteemed title of Rabbi Emeritus. This has been a year of well-deserved tributes and celebrations to acknowledge and honor the 27-year tenure of leadership, guidance, wisdom and devotion of our beloved Rabbi. For the last ten of those years, I have had the privilege of learning from, and being inspired by, this exceptional man. Quite a few of you have known Howard Shapiro for a longer period of time than I have... but I am uniquely fortunate to have been able to hear every single one of his thoughtful and relevant sermons over the last decade... and twice on the High Holy Days! My life has been immeasurably enriched by his messages of compassion, empathy, hope, and finding strength in tradition, family, friendship and community.
	On a personal note, I chose to move to Florida and serve Temple Israel in part because of the prospect of working with Rabbi Shapiro. I saw in him a warm and supportive colleague who encouraged creativity and growth. He seemed comfortable in his own skin and appeare excited – rather than threatened – by my ideas and skills. We “hit it off” right away. Over the course of the last decade, those initial impressions have not only remained true, but have grown into a deep and abiding friendship based upon mutual admiration, respect, and sincere affection.
	This is a bittersweet time for many of us. We have known about Rabbi Shapiro’s retirement for quite some time ... but now it is really upon us. Like reaching the final pages of a wonderful book that has enlightened, elevated and inspired us ... we don’t want to turn to that very last page. Although Rabbi Shapiro will be officially handing the pen over to Rabbi Richard Chapin to write new chapters with us ... we may rejoice in the fact that he and Eileen will have more time for themselves, each other, and their family. They will always remain a cherished part of the Temple Israel family. I know that you will want to join me in wishing Rabbi Shapiro and Eileen well as they continue on life’s journey. They will be the guests of honor at a very special Shabbat service on Friday, June 6th. It will be an “Erev Shabbat to Remember." Cantor


	Rabbi's Message . . . May 2008
	I was just in Cincinnati at the Central Conference of American Rabbis’ convention. Cincinnati is the home city of the Hebrew Union College- Jewish Institute of Religion and it is here that I was educated and trained to become a Rabbi. It is here that Eileen and I met, dated and got engaged. It is here that our son, David, was born. The second day of the convention was spent at the college. We went to classes in the same classrooms where we first learned Jewish thought, literature and sacred texts. It was an interesting moment to walk into the building and walk down the hall on the second floor past the pictures of the Ordination Classes, finding my year and finding my image from a very different and long ago time. It was a sacred moment to walk into the corner classroom and to feel the presence of my teachers who taught me Torah. I was surprised by my emotions: Am I getting old and sentimental or could I hear them teaching, encouraging, demanding and sharing? There are always workshops and study sessions, lectures and services at these conventions and sometimes there are surprises as well. That afternoon we visited the National Underground Railroad Freedom Center. It is in downtown Cincinnati on the banks of the Ohio River, within a good stone’s throw of Kentucky. For many slaves, crossing that river was crossing into the promised land of freedom. It was a significant stop (but not the final stop) on the Underground Railroad tracks out of slavery. The museum was another surprise. It tells the story of freedom’s heroes through the lens of the African American experience of bondage and the American struggle to abolish slavery. It is a story that traverses race and religion. Standing in the reconstructed “slave pen” that sits in almost the heart of the museum and was moved to the museum from its original location only 60 miles away, I felt a new sense of understanding of the African American past. The narrator who identified himself as an African American and who proudly reflected that perhaps his grandparents’ grandparents might have been “held” in here, compared his experience of first walking into this “pen” with his visit to Auschwitz when he walked into a gas chamber and looked up and saw the remains of the human struggle even as death was in the air. I quietly thanked him for the image because it was in my heart as I listened to him speak on the Audio Tour. And I learned in my gut at that moment that there is a brotherhood and sisterhood of suffering. No religion and no race, no people and no nationality has a “lock” on it. We share a language of agony and anguish and we know what that suffering calls upon us not only to remember but to do something positive with our pain that cries out to us to become. The museum asks us to be Everyday Freedom’s Heroes”. Eileen’s Holocaust Curriculum asks us to become “Upstanders”. Our tradition requests we seek the path of the righteous. So when I light my Holocaust Memorial Candle on Yom HaShoah and remember our six million, I will also remember those who died in the Middle Passage, those who were killed on the Underground Railroad, those who never made it to freedom and those who died trying to preserve and enlarge freedom’s reach. And as I light, I will remember it is up to me to make a difference. Rabbi Shapiro

	Cantor's Notes . . . May 2008
	Every Wednesday afternoon since last October, I have packed up a tote bag with several prayer books, a Torah commentary, and lots of pens, pencils, highlighters, and post-it notes – and headed to the Weiss School in Palm Beach Gardens to work with B’nai Mitzvah students. Judging from the physical facility, as well as from the many student projects which proudly adorn the hallway and classroom walls...it looks like a very impressive private school. The particular classroom where I tutor my students is used by the Weiss School for World History in its Middle School wing. Without knowing, you could easily guess the subject matter from the many time-lines and charts that cover the walls. During these past several months, I have seen those wall materials change from studies of ancient Rome... to the American and French Revolutions..to the Civil War... to World War I ... Last Wednesday, I packed my bag as usual, drove up to Burns Road in Palm Beach Gardens, and began working with my students. I didn’t really notice that the material stapled to the walls had changed yet again until about half-an-hour into my teaching. The student I was working with was chanting his Torah portion, when I glanced up – and noticed a photograph of Adolf Hitler. His icy stare cut through me like a laser. Then I looked around the rest of the room and realized that the students must have been studying World War II. There were also photos of Benito Mussolini, Franklin Roosevelt, Harry Truman and newspaper headlines announcing the attack on Pearl Harbor as well as the Japanese surrender after the use of the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. After the initial visceral shock of seeing Hitler, I began to feel a sense of triumph. After all.....here I was guiding a young person – preceded and followed by many – who was about to proudly become another link in the chain of Jewish tradition. The contrast of hearing the ancient words of Torah chanted by a young voice, while simultaneously seeing the image our people’s most demonic persecutor – was stark...yet profound. We are still here, while he and his depraved ideas are buried in the garbage dump of history. Yom HaShoah (Holocaust Remembrance Day) falls on Friday, May 2nd. It is also a sweet unplanned irony that our Adult B’nai Mitzvah Class will chant from the Torah and share their personal journeys with us – and that four of the nine adults who have accepted this responsibility are “Jews by Choice.” Not only have we survived, but many reared in other faiths – seeing the wisdom, beauty, and richness of Judaism - have chosen to identify as Jews and live a committed Jewish life. That this has happened only decades after the Holocaust, when being identified as a Jew was a death sentence – is extraordinary. Hitler and his cohorts must be turning over in their graves. Good riddance. Join us on Friday, May 2nd as we acknowledge the past and – just as importantly – celebrate the present and look forward to the future with pride, strength and determination. Am Yisrael Chai... the People of Israel lives. Cantor


	Rabbi's Message . . . April 2008
How Much Could a Piece of Bread Really Hurt? The headline in the Times said: “Religion Is Less a Birthright Than a Good Fit.” The article is written by a man who tells us that he was raised a Protestant in a small town in New Hampshire and became a Jew when he was in his 40’s. His wife was Jewish and his two sons were raised Jewish but he did not convert when he and his wife married or when his sons were born. The conversion had its own time table and its own progression. He writes: “What won me over to Judaism was “the insistence that our sacred texts were still vivid, still alive...that the Torah and the Talmud were meant to be wrestled with the way Jacob wrestled with the angel. ...Now, I don’t want to give the impression that becoming a Jew-by- choice has been one smooth drive down some celestial highway of transcendence. There are doubts, outright arguments with God and the little voice that keeps whispering: ‘Oh, come on, man, how much can one tiny strip of bacon hurt?’” And now comes Pesach and that obsession with bacon turns to bread and yeast. Oh, come on, man, we could paraphrase, how much could a piece of bread really hurt? It is an interesting question for liberal Jews who take the mitzvot as opportunities rather than as commandments. What opportunities does refraining from eating anything that has a leavening agent in it during the week of Passover open for us? What does it mean that we are called upon not to eat anything made of flour unless it was baked into matzah first? I do not eat anything that has yeast or leavening agents in it for the week of Passover because I accept a discipline upon myself which is an identity marker and a memory maker. I look at labels and examine not just the fat and calorie content of the ingredients but to see if it meets my Kosher for Passover standards. I clean out my house and give all leavened products to the Temple for distribution to the needy. I bake brownies without flour or baking soda and eat way too much all week. I do it for lots of reasons. There is a Hasidic saying: “It was not enough to take the Jews out of Egypt. It was necessary to take Egypt out of the Jews.” Egypt for the Jewish mystics is not only a geographical place; it is a symbol of any place (either physical or spiritual) of narrow walls. It is any place within where I feel constricted; it is any place within where I see only walls and no windows. It is any time I see only myself and think that the world begins and ends at the border of my skin. Egypt is inside of me and every day I have to struggle to be free from bondage to pettiness and narrow outlooks, from my enslavement to self at the expense of the outside world. How much could a piece of bread hurt? It takes me back to Egypt and leaves Sinai as a lonely mountain where the voice of God calling me echoes back upon itself. How much could it hurt? (That piece of bread!) I miss the moment of standing and listening with all of my people a God that calls us to freedom and commitment. I forget who I am and who my people are and I lose the opportunity to impress our Jewish vision on tomorrow. Passover is about us and who we say we are; Passover is about us and what we say we believe about our place, position and role in the world. Passover is about matzah crumbs and freedom’s dreams and finding creative solutions to the question: what’s for lunch? Hag Sameach and Happy Passover! Rabbi

Cantor's Notes . . . April, 2008
A few months ago – on Temple Israel’s “Mitzvah Day” – I spent a wonderful morning with parents and children of our congregation and residents of the Morse Geriatric Center. After introductions, songs, craft activities and refreshments, each of the children “interviewed” one of the residents. The questions included:
		- What is your name? - Where were you born? - How old are you? - What is your fondest Jewish memory?
Several of the residents (mostly women) were born either in Austria or Russia. One woman was – incredibly - about to celebrate her 104th Birthday! When we arrived at the final question – about memories – the answers became strikingly similar... Observance of the Passover Seder was the memory that had embedded itself most profoundly. The oldest faces in the room lit up when they began to talk about their families sitting around the seder table, reading from the Haggadah, singing the Passover songs & eating all of the ritual foods and delicacies. Not surprising. I think that many of us have warm childhood memories connected with Passover. For some of us, those memories are inextricably linked to grandparents or other relatives that are no longer with us. For others, the memories begin with our olfactory sense, as we recall the aromas of simmering chicken soup or tzimmes. At the conclusion of our “Mitzvah Day” activity, I pointed out to all of the parents who were present that now is the time to forge those beautiful Jewish memories in their own children so that decades from now they will look back and experience that emotional connection. A Zisn Pesach... a sweet Passover to you all. Cantor


	Rabbi's Message . . . March 2008
	When they write about Alan Morinis, that “for the past seven years, the nearly-lost Jewish spiritual discipline of Mussar has been his passion”, my mind immediately goes to some esoteric hidden teaching and to a secret cache of knowledge a la “The Da Vinci Code.” How did this body of wisdom get lost? What is Mussar anyway and why don’t I know about it? “Mussar is a path of contemplative practices and exercises that have evolved over the past thousand years to help an individual soul to pinpoint and then to break through the barriers that surround and obstruct the flow of inner light in our lives.” (from the Mussar Institute website–www.Mussarinstitute.org) It was the practices of individual Jews across the centuries who sought to release the light of holiness that lives within each and every one of us. In the 19th Century, Rabbi Israel Salanter collected these teaching and created a popular social movement known as Mussar in Lithuania Yeshivot. The root teaching of Mussar is that each of us is a “soul”. Not that we have a soul; not that the soul is part of us like ego and id. But that essentially, at the core, we are light, pure and brilliant, bright and giving. The goal of Mussar practice is to release that light – to free it so that it can refine and purify the ways we act and interact with all the other souls around us. It is totally Jewish because it teaches that the goal of Jewish spiritual practice is about tikun – repairing the world by first repairing our selves. Well, March is our Mussar month. Alan Morinis, one of my teachers, will be the third in our series of “Five People I Would Like You To Meet”. He has taught me and I have found him to be challenging, informative, engaging, inspiring. We are very fortunate that he will be with us for the weekend and will meet us in many different venues and will engage us with a variety of approaches to this spiritual work that is at the heart of being a person. A Mussar story and teaching:
		One night, as he walked past the home of a shoemaker, Rabbi Salanter noticed that despite the late hour, the man was still working by the light of a dying candle. “Why are you still working,” he asked. “It is very late and soon that candle will go out.” The shoemaker replied, “As long as the candle is still burning, it is still possible to accomplish and to mend.” Salanter spent that entire night excitedly pacing his room and repeating to himself: “As long as the candle is still burning, it is still possible to accomplish and to mend.” “Take time, be exact, unclutter the mind.”
	I hope you will give yourself the gift of learning from Alan. Rabbi

	Cantor's Notes . . . March 2008
	Mi Shenichnas Adar, Marbim b’Simcha “When the month of Adar arrives, our joy increases” Why? Because the Hebrew month of Adar contains the holiday of Purim, of course! We all know that Purim is the most uninhibitedly joyous celebration on the Hebrew calendar. We are commanded to rejoice, dress up in costume, poke fun at ourselves and our traditions, and even become so intoxicated that we can no longer distinguish between good (Esther & Mordecai) and evil (Haman). When I was at the start of my career as a student cantor on Long Island, I shocked some of the more “conservative” members of my congregation by singing parodies of many of our prayers & appearing on the bimah wearing a bathrobe, shower cap, fuzzy slippers and holding a “rubber duckie.” (I won’t even tell you what some of my other costumes were – although I am actually quite proud of all the compliments I received on my sexy legs!) Suffice it to say that my Purim antics created quite a stir. Why do I share this with you? Because over the years, I’ve come to feel less and less comfortable with “letting my hair down” and acting in an undignified fashion – even on Purim. Maybe that’s a natural bi-product of aging. Maybe I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t like being “commanded” to feel good. Maybe I’m just a curmudgeon. At this stage in my life, I “get” the fact that many Jews think that Purim is just a holiday for kids. I understand and empathize with those who feel that the revelry and irreverence of Purim is not for them. I “get it.” But I also know something else: We need Purim. In a world so filled with intolerance, distrust, and fanaticism - Purim forces us not only to celebrate the triumph of good over evil and the continued miracle of Jewish survival – but to do it in a way that strips away all self- righteousness and pretense. I’ve come to the conclusion that Purim is not about putting masks on – but rather about taking them off. It is easy to get depressed and disheartened about so many things. Purim commands us to rejoice – even while acknowledging the realities of the world, and to laugh – even at ourselves. I am so pleased that this year, we will be celebrating Purim with our friends at Temple Beth El. We will join together for costumes, food, fun and – of course – the reading of the Megillah on Thursday evening, March 20th. I hope to see many of you (including all of my fellow curmudgeons) there! Cantor


	Rabbi's Message . . . February 2008
	This is a year for the making of books. In November, we received the new Siddur (Prayer Book) of the Reform Movement and today we received the new Chumash (Torah Commentary). Both are the first of their kind to be edited by women. That simple statement says “yards” and “miles” about what Reform Judaism is and what we as Reform Jews believe. It is more than a value statement. It is the blessing and the child of our belief in gender equality and the inherent worth of every human being. We heard about this new Chumash well over a year ago when one of its editors, Dr. Andrea L. Weiss, spoke to us at Shabbat Services. She told us then that this book would be ground-breaking not only because it was edited and contributed to by women, but because it would bring together three core principles. It would be contemporary; it would be Jewish; it would be of women. The two editors introduce the book by reminding us of one of the wisdom texts in Proverbs. “Keep your father’s commandments, and do not forsake your mother’s torah.” In my words, this new commentary focuses on our mother’s torah – the lessons that have been hidden, overlooked, lost, forgotten, waiting to be born, because for centuries, the voices and insights of our “mothers’ have been confined to the kitchen. This book begins to redress this loss to our people. This book begins a new chapter in the life of Jewish scholarship. The book is obviously familiar to those who study Torah. Its central text is Torah – the first five books of the Bible. It begins to differ as one begins to read the notes and comments that accompany the text. More often than not they pinpoint some aspect of a once familiar story that we (men) have never noticed. Women’s eyes open new understanding for us all. It is also cognizant and conscious that there are many ways to interpret and understand the Bible. It presents at the end of each portion, a section, called, “Voices”, where the poetry we call torah meets contemporary women poets as they meet torah. The Chumash is published by the Women of Reform Judaism. We have acquired a dozen for the Temple to be used in classes and in Torah study. I hope you will consider buying one for your personal library as well. It is time to say a shehecheeyanu. Blessed are You Adonai our God for keeping us in life and permitting us to reach this sacred moment. Rabbi

	Cantor's Notes . . . February 2008
	Sometimes, life comes at us in unexpected ways. We all want desperately to believe that we have total control over our fate, but reality proves otherwise. There is a Yiddish expression that goes “People plan..and God laughs.” In other words, as much as we would like to think that we are the script writer and director of our own life “movie” - we are in fact (to quote Shakespeare) “merely players.” Incidentally, God is the Executive Producer. The truth is that although we have no control over unforeseen circumstances or the actions of others – we can control our own choices, reactions and perceptions. Everyone experiences some adversity in his or her life. The question is – how do you deal with it. When life does give you lemons, do you become sour or make lemonade? One of the most uplifting and inspirational moments of the recent URJ Biennial Convention was when actor Michael J. Fox received a special award for his advocacy of stem- cell research and his tireless work to find a cure for Parkinson’s disease. As I’m sure you know, Fox was a sitcom superstar in such shows as “Family Ties” and “Spin City” as well as a major movie star appearing in the “Back to the Future” series – when he was diagnosed with early-onset Parkinson’s. (What you may not know is that although Fox himself is not Jewish, his wife and children are.- and they are actively involved in their synagogue.) Michael J. Fox has every reason to be angry and bitter. He was a young man at the top of his professional acting career when the blow of his diagnosis changed his life forever. Over the last several years, he has been losing more and more control over his body. And yet..when he took the podium of the large convention center is San Diego – he exuded hope and optimism. He told the large assembly that his struggle may be the best thing that ever happened to him because it forced him to re-evaluate what was truly important in life. He also talked about “Tikkun Olam” – and using adversity to make a positive difference for others. There was not a dry eye in the auditorium. Incidentally, the title of his autobiography is “Lucky Man.” Talk about viewing the glass as half-full rather than half-empty. We all know people whose disappointments have made them bitter, and perhaps from time to time, we have allowed ourselves to succumb to that inclination. When we are hurt by others or disappointed by life, it is a natural human response to feel angry, betrayed or filled with self-pity. But there is another option – and this we have control over. Can we turn our disappointment into motivation? Can we take seemingly insurmountable obstacles and change them into challenges? Can we maintain a positive and hopeful outlook? The next time life gives you those lemons... think of the lemonade that Michael J. Fox is making. Cantor Offenkrantz


	Rabbi's Message . . . January 2008
	When I picked up “The Life of David” by Robert Pinsky, I said, this will be a fast read. Hey, I have read the Books of Samuel and Kings (actually my bar mitzvah Haftarah was one of the David stories), so I know what is going on here. Besides, the book is slim and the font is not too challenging. Well, was I in for an education! Robert Pinsky is one smartman. Besides being a poet, he is an essayist, translator, andteacher of creative writing in the graduate studies program at Boston University. He knows a lot about David and he knows a lot about Dante, as translator of a verse collection, “The Inferno of Dante.” SoI started to read, and I was humbled. And that was good. Because I learned. I learned more about David than I ever thought was in the Bible. Who knew that David was not Samuel’s first choice to replace Saul as King? Samuel first scrutinized David’s older brothers. But I should not have been surprised at this. The Bible has a history of favoring the younger if not the youngest. It is as if the Bible wants to break down stereotypes and smash the idolatry of repetitive thinking. The author seems to be teaching: the first born may be the first born but that does not make them worthy of leadership or blessing unless they earn it. Who knows why the great love of David’s life, Michal, turned against him, and why they ended up in a marriage of bitter silence. King Saul tests David with a challenge – a pretty grisly one. “Bring me,” Saul says, “100 foreskins of the Philistines.” Does Saul want David to die in the attempt to win over Michal? David, who is no slouch, answers: “You want one hundred: I will double the stakes and bring you two-hundred.” No wonder, David is who he is. He is quite the character – this bold, daring, handsome, sly, quick, poet King. This is what a good author and a good poet does. He brings you to a door, opens it for you and lets you see a different world on the other side of the threshold. This is what learning is all about. Learning and knowledge expand your horizons and help you to see with new perspective. This is what poetry does as well. Go on line and look up Pinsky’s poem, “The Shirt”. It takes a wonderful mind to get from the cuff, the seams, the collar to sweatshops in Southeast Asia to the most famous sweatshop in New York in 1911 where the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire broke out. Read the poem: You will never look at a shirt the same way again. It is almost like saying a blessing. Yes, the words of a blessing, praise God. But a motzi, a blessing over wine, over an apple, over a new piece of clothing, call ultimate attention to the object before you and where it came from and what that means as you eat it, drink it, put it on. So Robert Pinsky, poet, author, translator, teacher, will be here on Friday night January 25th. He is the first of the five people I would like you to meet. I hope you will come and learn from him. Rabbi

	Cantor's Notes . . . January 2008
	Last evening, I was one of several hundred Jewish residents of the greater West Palm Beach area who attended the annual outdoor Hanukkah celebration at CityPlace. In the shadow of a giant Christmas tree, we sang traditional Hanukkah songs, kindled the lights of the Hanukkah menorah and unashamedly celebrated our heritage. Looking around the crowd – we are a very diverse community. There were infants and seniors... men and women... fair skinned and dark. Some wore yarmulkes... others did not. From personal knowledge, I knew that some were Jews-by-Choice... and others, Jews-by-Birth. Some were affiliated with the Refor movement... some Conservative... some Orthodox... some spiritual but unaffiliated, and some completely secular. But we were all Jews. It was nice to get together. I don’t have to tell you that this can be a hard time of the year for Jews. The large Christmas tree which hovered over our Hanukkah celebration was more than a metaphorical reminder of our minority status – even in such a Jewishly-populated area as Palm Beach County. Next to the towering tree adorned with sparkling lights, the CityPlace menorah -which is not small by any means - seemed a little bit like a toy that you could easily walk past and not notice. That’s ok. Our “Festival of Lights” does not have to compete with anything - least of all one of the most sacred days on the Christian calendar. To attempt to “inflate” our celebration to create a sense of “parity” with Christmas is not only silly but a little disrespectful to the importance of December 25th to our Christian neighbors. Incidentally, many Jews are shocked to learn that Hanukkah is considered a minor observance on the Jewish calendar. Back to CityPlace... the unquestionable highlight of the event was when our State Senator Dave Aronberg picked up a guitar and treated the crowd to a wonderful and hysterical rendition of Adam Sandler’s cult-classic “The Hanukkah Song.” For those of you who many not be familiar with it, here are just some of the lyrics: Put on your yarmulka, here comes Hanukkah. It’s so much fun-akkah to celebrate Hanukkah. Hanukkah is the festival of lights –instead of 1 day of presents, we have 8 crazy nights. When you feel like the only kid in town without a Christmas tree, Here’s a list of people who are Jewish, just like you and me: David Lee Roth lights the menorah, So do James Caan, Kirk Douglas, and the late Dinah Shore-ah Guess who eats together at the Carnegie Deli, Bowzer from Sha-na-na, and Arthur Fonzarelli. Paul Newman’s half Jewish; Goldie Hawn’s half too - Put them together—what a fine lookin’ Jew! You dont need deck the halls or jingle bell rock Cause you can spin the dreidl with Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock! Pretty funny stuff. Incidentally, Senator Dave Aronberg (who literally stole the show) is a long-time congregant of Temple Israel. I am very proud of that. Cantor


	Rabbi's Message . . . December 2007
	December is a quiet month. The days are shorter and the darkness of night hovers longer, bringing with it an organic hush. Growth slows, even in Florida. Some of my lawn care specialists actually have it written in the contract that now they stretch out the intervals of their cutting to twice or three times a month. In colder climates, there are days and nights when snow falls and blankets the noisy city streets with a softer world. In western culture we respond to this time of settling down with just the opposite. It is like we are an antonym. December for us is not quiet. It is a time of parties; it is a time of clinking glasses; it is a time of filling the darkness with light – holiday lights of every color and shape from little multi-colored bulbs strung around trees, bushes, on houses and poles to variegated candles, one for each night. Just about the time the days are shortest (nine days later), we proclaim a New Year, blowing horns, dropping balls of light. We don’t like darkness and we retreat from silence. Last month I was on a five day spiritual direction retreat. We were told that one afternoon, from lunch to just before dinner, we would “be in silence”. When I saw that on the schedule, I immediately heard my mind say to me: “that’s not for me!” I am like the general culture two paragraphs up there. I fill my silence with noise - a TV in the background, music on my IPOD, radio in the car. I think the only time I really am in silence is when I am sleeping. But here (they said) was an opportunity. To be alone with yourself; to listen to your inner voice; to search for the Spirit within; to discover what is said in silence. We ate lunch together in silence and then we all went off wherever we wanted to and we were quiet, silent, still. This is what I learned. Silence Let me tell you what I like about this stillness. I like the noises and the sounds That now pop, crackle and come to life. Water pouring from a pitcher A cascade of jumbling, rolling thunder. A can of soda effervescing. The gases Run up against the tin and laugh at their containment. A fork against a plate. Who knew they had So much to say to each other? Feet on a stairway. Up sounds different than down. Up is heavy; building on each other the treads almost threaten. Down lightly mocks up and merrily plays jacks with the future. Let me tell you what I like about this silence I like the who I am And the words I hear singing through me I am alive in this quiet. Alert to a world that always is but Rarely heard. The noise of December is upon us. It is ok to live in that noise; but it is also good to give yourself the luxury to step out of it and listen to the quiet of your self. In our tradition, that luxury is a weekly blessing. We call it Shabbat. Hag Sameach... Happy Hanukkah Rabbi

	Cantor's Notes . . . December, 2007
	The soft bean-bag ball was tossed from one student to the next ... sometimes over the distance of just a few feet and at other times, over the distance of several yards. The order of the “passes” was dictated, and if any student dropped the ball, the entire exercise had to begin over again from the very beginning. Did what I am describing take place in the temple’s courtyard or in our parking lot? No....it took place in our sanctuary. WHAT?Our students were playing ball in our sanctuary... the sacred space in which we worship? Before you become indignant (if you haven’t already) – allow me to explain: The above exercise is part of the curriculum developed by Rabbi Shapiro and Peter Eckstein for Temple Israel’s Bar/Bat Mitzvah Club, which educates students as well as their parents in some of the basic concepts, traditions, and wisdom of Judaism. Many of the classes in this very successful program are “experiential” in order to really bring the concepts to life. In this particular class - which I had the honor of facilitating - the “ball” represents Jewish law and tradition. Each student was given a label corresponding to a person or institution which is mentioned as part of the chain of tradition in chapter 1 of Pirke Avot (“The Ethics of the Fathers”) – a collection of pithy Jewish wisdom not unlike “Poor Richard’s Almanac.” Here’s what it says: Moses received the law from Sinai and passed it to Joshua. Joshua passed the law to the Elders. The Elders passed the law to the Prophets. The Prophets passed the law to the Great Synagogue etc.... You get the idea. Each successive “pass” of the tradition forges a new link in the chain. If someone “drops the ball” – the chain is broken, and all previous links - which go all the way back to Sinai – vanish into thin air. What is the most crucial link in the chain? Was it the first transmittal of the law from God on Mt. Sinai to Moses? No. It is the one where our tradition is passed to you. Do you catch it...nurture & protect it...and then pass it on to those who come after you? Or do you drop it? A powerful metaphor. We are – for the most part – here as involved, caring members of the Jewish community because enough of our ancestors cared to nurture our tradition and pass it on. To quote a song by Doug Cotler, “I’m standing on the shoulders of the ones who came before me.” Hopefully, our descendants will be able to “toss the ball” around their synagogue sanctuary and say the same of themselves. Cantor Offenkrantz


	Rabbi's Message . . . November 2007
	I almost gave this as a sermon on the High Holy Days. This is the 100th anniversary since the birth of Abraham Joshua Heschel and I thought it appropriate and moving to celebrate his life and thought. He was a teacher of mine even though we never met. He became my teacher when his book, “God In Search of Man” became assigned reading in a Jewish Studies class at Brandeis University. But somehow other things came to the fore, and the sermon became a file saved on my computer but he is still on my mind and as I think about the course Peter and I are about to begin in November, I think again about Heschel, his ideas, his life and the influence they had on my Judaism, on my rabbinate and on how I reflect on and experience prayer, and the work I do as a Rabbi. The course is called: “Prayer of the Month”. I know it is not a verysexy title, but it does tell you what we plan to do. We plan to spendour hour and a half on helping you understand one prayer every month. We will study its origins and what it has meant across the ages. We will examine its connotations and its associations, its implications and nuances. We will delve into how we pray the words and how we get ready for prayer itself. We will ask whom we are addressing when we pray and can tell when (if) our prayers are answered. We will use words and silence; we will talk and listen and we will learn from our ancient sages, our contemporary scholars, and each other. This is some of what Heschel taught me about prayer. When he was walking, arm in arm, with Martin Luther King from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama, he said: “I am praying with my feet.” For Heschel prayer was always about action. It was a way station, a ladder, a bridge. It led you from here to there. It either took you out of yourself or into yourself – but it took you somewhere. Some of the words Heschel has used in describing the what and the why of prayer: The purpose of prayer is not petitionary. We do not pray in order to be saved. We do not pray in order to be granted success, wealth, or even good health. We pray, Heschel stressed, so that we might be worthy of being saved. We pray so that we might know what to do with our success, how to use our wealth, how to celebrate our good health. Pretty radical! Probably counter intuitive. It is probably not the reason you read the prayers placed before you on the pages of our siddurim. Even the words that present themselves in these prayer books seem to contradict our teacher’s thoughts. But Heschel wants you to take nothing for granted – not the words, not the ideas, not the present or the past. Examine it all; make it your own; make it live in you. Prayer should not focus on our wishes, but is a moment in which God’s intentions are reflected in us. I invite you to come and experience prayer thoughts with Peter and me. Here is one of my favorites: Who rises from prayer better persons, their prayers are answered. Rabbi

	Cantor's Notes . . . November, 2007
	In last month’s Koleynu, Rabbi Shapiro told you about our excitement and anticipation at the impending arrival of “Mishkan T’filah” – the Reform Movement’s new siddur. Before the ink had even dried on his article – the prayer books arrived. At first encounter, they are beautiful to the touch and to the eye. Clearly, a great effort has been made to produce a siddur of tangible quality. Of course, the physical attributes of the book are not as crucial as the content – and it is my belief that, after only a few encounters, you will find “Mishkan T’fillah” to be a siddur that uplifts, inspires, challenges and embraces. Rabbi Shapiro & I decided to introduce our new prayer book little-by-little in smaller groups before replacing all of our “Gates of Prayer” in the sanctuary pews. We wanted to “test the waters” and get some feedback before making the big splash. Our initial use of the new siddur was on the first morning of Sukkot. How appropriate! As you know from the rabbi’s article last month, the word “Mishkan” means “dwelling place” and that is exactly what a sukkah is. Luckily, although the days leading up to Sukkot were rainy (at times torrentially so!) the sky cleared – enabling us to “dwell” in the sukkah for our morning service. The small group which gathered opened the new books both gingerly so as not to soil the clean white pages, and with a sense of great excitement. Our second informal encounter with “Mishkan T’fillah” took place on the last day of Sukkot – which is also Sh’mini Atzeret/ Simchat Torah. During this service, we recite Yizkor memorial prayers which gave us the opportunity to “check out” another section of the prayer book. So far....the reviews have been extremely positive. Let me tell you some of the things that I like about “Mishkan.” I appreciate the re-introduction, re-evaluation and re-interpretation of prayers that had been previously deemed outside of the parameters of Reform Judaism. I’m excited by the wide variety of creative interpretations, poems and meditations that are intended to capture the essence of a particular prayer. I am delighted that the opportunities and choices for musical expression have been greatly expanded. I’m happy that this prayer book does away with italicized readings as a visual cue for the congregation. I have always found that device to be “Pavlovian.” (You remember Pavlov, who trained his dogs to salivate whenever they heard the sound of a bell.) In some ways, Reform congregations using “Gates of Prayer” became like Pavlov’s dogs – reading italicized prayers as a conditioned response, but often (I suspect) without much thought about the words. There are many more exciting elements of “Mishkan T’filah” and Rabbi Shapiro & I invite you to start your own exploration as we officially welcome our new prayer book during our “Synaplex” Shabbat Service on Friday, November 16th at 7:00 pm. Cantor


	Rabbi's Message . . . October 2007
	The New York Times had the story – so it has to be true. Mishkan Tefillah – (The new Reform Prayer Book for Shabbat and Holidays) is coming off the press. My guess is that it will be delivered to us some time this Fall. (That gives me till December 21st to be right, I think.) It has been a hard birthing process. I feel for its editor Elyse Frishman who as far as I know is the first woman in Jewish history to be the editor of a Siddur. She has worked hard and worked long to make sure that this prayer book reflected something radically different yet essentially the same as the prayer books of our Jewish past. To make sure that it was faithful to tradition and faithful to our Reform movement’s understanding of how tradition evolves and changes. The last time we developed a new prayer book was in 1975 when Gates of Prayer was published. It was radically different from its predecessor, The Union Prayer Book.. I am sure you could do a study of Reform Jews and their attitudes towards prayer just from the names of the successive books. From “Union” – reflecting the unity of the movement – and what unifies it, to “Gates” which invites one to open them and enter, to “Mishkan Tefillah, whose full name is “Mishkan Tefillah – A Reform Siddur” and of the five words, three are in Hebrew. The word mishkan means a dwelling place and the word tefillah is the Hebrew word for prayer. The title of our new Siddur (Prayer Book) means: A Place Where Prayer Dwells. The radical differences between this Siddur and our other Siddurim (Plural for Siddur) are in the area of formatting and inclusivity. The prayer book recognizes that we are a community of diverse individuals with varying ways of expressing our faith and our beliefs. We mean different things when we say the same words. Through its unique format of double page spread, this siddur allows each prayer to be heard and to be read differently. It encourages active participation; it says to both worshipper and prayer leader, prayer is work and prayer is engagement and prayer is reaching across the divide that separates bimah from pew so that all come together in praise and celebration of the Eternal. The Religious Practices Committee, Cantor and I are all looking forward to introducing you to this book. There will be much to talk about and learn about and get used to. Old habits die hard. Hey, I still remember that Eyn Keloheinu was on page 155 of the Union Prayer Book —— and it is at least 35 years since I have announced that. So we will have to relearn all our page numbers and you will have to get comfortable with the fact that there are no italics or directions of when to stand and when to sit and we will all do fine together. And it will be good and hopefully prayer will find a place to reside not only in the book but in our hearts. Rabbi

	Cantor's Notes . . . October 2007
	I am writing this column during the days which fall between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. While many of my colleagues have told me that they dread the holidays because of the amount of singing and exhaustion they experience....I think I revel in them. Yes....I love the liturgy and the music, but there is something else that gets my adrenaline pumping. It is seeing so many of you gathered together to share a common experience. The Rabbi and I know that we will have our largest “audience” of the year on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Our words and melodies fall on the greatest number of ears during that time. For me as clergy, the thought of inspiring the largest number of people is both exciting and validating - but is it really fair to judge “success” and “failure” by the numbers? What if the rabbi, I and the Temple Israel Choir offered the exact same worship experience and only a handful of congregants came to hear us....would our time and effort be deemed a “failure?” Temple Israel provides a wealth of experiences throughout the year, from worship services to educational opportunities to social gatherings to special events. Some are very well attended...many are not. I’ll make a confession....when I walk into the sanctuary, social hall or a classroom at the beginning of a scheduled event or activity, I quickly survey the room to estimate how many bodies are there. If there seem to be a lot, I feel better about myself and what I’m doing. If there are few, I feel worse. I know it shouldn’t be this way, but it’s a hard habit to break. And I’m sure I’m not alone. I’m sure that many of us gauge our own “success” by quantity more than by quality. Our society reinforces this. More is better. Bigger is better. Even the synagogue is not immune. Of course, it is natural to want to reach as many people as possible – as often as possible. And why not....it feels good to see a packed sanctuary and it is good for the fiscal bottom line. The problem is that labeling the poorly attended service/class/event as a “failure” or to feel depressed about it minimizes the positive – and sometimes life changing experience for those who are present. Don’t get me wrong....I want Temple Israel to grow and thrive, and would love for every event to be packed to the gills. I just want to alter my own perceptions about the worth of the endeavor even when only a few souls join us. Whether there are 500 people present or just 5, the synagogue is in the “business” of bringing people closer to God and to each other – and the truth is...that is done one person at a time. Cantor


	Rabbi's Message . . . September 2007
	Over the summer, actually over the last three days in July, a small group of Jewish intellectuals were put up in a swank ski resort in Utah and asked to address the question, “Why be Jewish?'. Sponsored by the Samuel Bronfman Foundation, the mixed group of philosophers, scholars, rabbis, authors, journalists, social activists, communal professionals, and philanthropists, were asked to study, wrestle, struggle, listen, talk on what amounts to a 21st century Vision Statement for the Jewish people. According to the JTA (Global News Service of the Jewish People), “the conference which featured text study, group discussions and lectures, is part of a number of foundation-sponsored, free-wheeling gatherings aimed at focusing attention not just on bringing the unaffiliated into the Jewish community, but clarifying what the community stands for today. ”I would have loved to have been there, a fly on the wall, a silent witness to what I envision had to have been a series of fascinating conversations. Conversations that I hope used no platitudes and dared to challenge the sacred myths we carry with us on our journeys through time and space. I am told that “absent from these conversations were anti-Semitism, Israel and the Holocaust, the holy trinity of American Jewish identity for the past 60 years. That, too, was intentional.” Of course think tanks and vision statements are not new to the Jewish people. We have had many vision statements before: We find them in the Torah, in the Prophets, in all of Jewish literature. We have had think tanks as well. The difference is that in previous think tanks, especially those in Babylonia, our ancient scholars were dialoguing with those who not only physically sat before them but also with those who lived before them and whose words and teachings they were engaging. The records of those think tanks are found on the pages of the Midrash and Talmud. We are a people who look at ourselves and we are a people who take our existence seriously and not for granted. We seem to consistently want to ask the hard questions: Why us? What for? What next? The questions make us who we are. The act of questioning might even be one of the secrets of our survival. The questions define us more than the answers. And if this is true collectively, it might be valid personally as well. So I invite you into your own “think tank” and your own process of “visioning”. The think tank occurs on Rosh Hashanah and the Vision Statement is created on Yom Kippur. It is what we call the act of introspection, the act of turning, teshuvah. What a great gift: a period of time set aside to look at ourselves and how we behave; to look at where we are in our lives and where we would like to be; to find gratitude for the blessings of daily living and to acknowledge our yearnings that tomorrow be no worse and maybe even better than today. L'Shanah Tovah! May this New Year bring you new dreams and the awareness of new possibilities. May your days be blessed with health, contentment, challenge and peace. Rabbi

	Cantor's Notes . . . September 2007
	The High Holy Days, as we all know, are a time of self-reflection and examination. It is easy to point out the flaws and shortcomings of others….much more difficult to look honestly at ourselves and our actions. Most of us - and I include myself - travel through our day-to-day lives viewing the world from a very narrow perspective - our own, which is colored by our personal history, biases, emotional needs and ego. Sometimes we need a wake-up call to rouse us from our sense of self-importance and I can think of none better than the piecing and plaintiff sound of the shofar. Elul - the last month on the Hebrew calendar - is, traditionally the time to begin the spiritual and emotional preparations for entering the Days of Awe with a ready heart. To aid in this task, the Union of Reform Judaism (URJ) placed a wonderful feature on its website (urj.org) called “Jewels of Elul.” During the 29 days of the month, a new “jewel” of inspiration was posted from an amazing and diverse group of individuals ranging from Deepak Chopra to the Dalai Lama to Kirk Douglas. I enjoyed reading them every day and found many inspirational, uplifting, and wise. I'd like to share two of them with all of you, and ask you to think about your own lives - as I thought about mine - while you read them. The first is by Naomi Ragen, an American-born author and playwright who has lived in Jerusalem for the past 36 years. She writes: I was unpacking my suitcase after a short weekend getaway when I realized I couldn't find my scarf. A great sense of loss overwhelmed me. I remembered the exquisite colors that had given me so much pleasure every time I looked at my scarf. I remembered its lovely silkiness as it touched my fingers and draped so lightly around my neck. And now, I thought, I would never see or touch it again. How had I not been more careful with it? I mourned. How had I not cherished it more, recognized its worth more while I'd had it? I wondered, too, if its loss was not a punishment for some sin. And then, a thought occurred to me. Slowly, I went through my suitcase again, and there, in a corner, was a plastic bag I'd assumed was empty. When I opened it, I found my scarf. I touched it, filled with joy and gratitude. Suddenly, I thought of the myriad things, large and small, whose loss I would be quick to feel was a punishment but whose presence I often overlooked as a blessing. I promised myself to never again wait for their loss to feel gratitude for their presence. I promised myself to thank God every hour, every minute for each small blessing. We must all ask ourselves, what do we take for granted? What would we mourn if lost? The second “jewel” of inspiration is by prominent American Rabbi, Harold Kushner, author of “When Bad Things Happen to Good People” and many other best-selling books. He writes: One year, my Yom Kippur sermon was on the theme of forgiveness. The next day, a woman came to see me, very upset about the sermon. She told me how, 10 years earlier, her husband had left her for a younger woman and she has had to raise two children by herself for the past 10 years. She asked me angrily, "And you want me to forgive him for what he did to us?" I told her, "Yes, I want you to forgive him. Not to excuse him, not to say that what he did was acceptable, but to forgive him as a way of saying that someone who would do that has no right to live inside your head any more than he has the right to live inside your house. Why are you giving a man like that the power to turn you into a bitter, vengeful woman? He doesn't deserve that power over you." Forgiveness is not a favor we do for the person who offended us. It is a favor we do for ourselves, cleansing our souls of thoughts and memories that lead us to see ourselves as victims and make our lives less enjoyable. When we understand we have little choice as to what other people do but we can always choose how we will respond to what they do, we can let go of those embittering memories and enter the New Year clean and fresh. We must all ask ourselves, who have we harbored a grudge against? Who have we not forgiven? These are tough questions…but nobody every said being Jewish was easy. We must all struggle - at least a little bit. In that spirit and with all humility, I would like to ask forgiveness from anyone whom I might have hurt either through my words or my deeds. As your cantor and friend, I will always strive to act like a mensch, and be there for you and your families during good times and bad. Lynda and I would like to wish every one of you a New Year filled with good health, abundant happiness and peace. L'Shanah Tova Tikateivu, Cantor Paul Offenkrantz


	Rabbi's Message . . . Summer, 2007
	Ros Leopold and I are collaborating on this message together. We are sharing space and ideas because this is all about our building and our progress to build a new facility for our congregation. Perhaps our words are long overdue but we have been both cautious to speak about where our building plans are going, because it has been so hard in the past to predict costs. We have been reticent because we want desperately to build a building that will meet the needs of our congregation into the foreseeable future and at the same time be fiscally responsible and care for the financial and spiritual health of the community. So it has taken time to get our plans ready and to examine every inch of square footage and usage and to scale back where necessary and to think boldly where needed. The short hand version of this is that our architect, Jeffrey Silberstein, will have the construction designs ready by the time you read this. They will go to the city for permitting and they will go out to bid at the same time. We expect (hope) that by January 1st we will be out of the current building and demolition and construction will be on its way shortly thereafter. We are very excited about our new Temple building. It has great simplicity; it has multiple functionalities ; it has learning places, discovery places, gathering places, the sanctity of Jewish tradition, a place where heritage and innovation can meet the Jews of today and tomorrow. The people from Synagogue 3000 (a think tank and organization for synagogue change and transformation) speak about core principles that form the needs and the functions of a synagogue building in the 21st century. We have taken some of these principles and adapted them to Temple Israel. They are listed below in bold. We offer them to you so that you may understand where the design of our new building is coming from and what it is attempting to achieve. “Religious buildings are metaphors of the community’s identity and message. They are not just containers for religious people and objects. The building does not make the community but the design of the community’s sacred space tells us a lot about the community it represents.” Our new building is designed for us – for the values we care about and for the way we live our lives. With multiple worship spaces and gathering spaces, we will be able to be a community together. Our new facility is designed for flexibility. There are five gathering spaces of different sizes and functions: our sanctuary, social hall, lobby, chapel and library. We can celebrate Shabbat in multiple ways and forms at the same time and come together at the Oneg as one. We can meet as one congregation for the High Holy Days in our own facility. We can accommodate each other on Hanukkah and at Seders in ways we could never do before. On a given Sunday morning, the library can offer living-room style learning and discussion spaces; the Chapel will be open for those who would seek out meditation space; the classrooms will be alive with teachers and students, computers, books….; the social hall can have a breakfast and lecture series; and we could go on….. "Synagogue buildings for the 21st century should return to older conceptions of Jewish sacred space which place the prayer leader among the people and allow the congregation to see one another. We need to break out of the stage/spectator model.” Our sanctuary will be both intimate and inspiring. It is designed for us to feel each other’s presence. The Bimah is thrust forward into the midst of the congregation. Worshippers sit in a squared off “U” shape and there is no separation between clergy and congregation. We are in this together. “Sacred space should be a blend of the old and the new; it should have natural light so that all can feel both the beauty of creation and a sense of the Creator who said: Let There Be Light.” Temple Israel has been distinguished by its central courtyard and will continue to be. The new building envisions two open spaces in the building structure. Adjacent to the lobby of the Sanctuary and Social Hall there will be a formal courtyard with a chapel in its midst. Here we can continue to gather on cool evenings as we celebrate Shabbat. In the midst of the pre-school ready classrooms and the religious school classrooms, there will be a second courtyard, designed as a play ground.. The Sanctuary and Social Hall have windows that face Flagler Drive and we have kept our walk in Ark that is flooded with light. But we have spoken enough. There is of course more to tell. We are planning for placement of all the art and ritual objects present in our current building into our new facility. And if you are interested in even more detail, as it becomes solidified, we will be glad to update you. But for now – Dayenu! If you have read this far, we hope you have caught our excitement. And we hope you know and appreciate how hard Ron Pertnoy, Leslie Schlessinger and many others are working to make this a reality we will all be proud of. Rabbi

	Cantor's Notes . . . Summer, 2007 Grocery clerks…waiters or waitresses…toll collectors…postal workers…salespeople…neighbors. We encounter other human beings on a daily basis. Many of these encounters are brief and make little or no lasting impression….but every so often, if the stars are aligned, you might be fortunate enough to come in contact with someone who inspires and uplifts you…someone who touches your life in such a way that you remember them with fondness and reverence no matter how brief your encounter and how many years or decades have passed since. Who in your life has made such an impression? A teacher? Friend? Clergy person? Family member? Grocery clerks…waiters or waitresses…toll collectors…postal workers…salespeople…neighbors. We encounter other human beings on a daily basis. Many of these encounters are brief and make little or no lasting impression….but every so often, if the stars are aligned, you might be fortunate enough to come in contact with someone who inspires and uplifts you…someone who touches your life in such a way that you remember them with fondness and reverence no matter how brief your encounter and how many years or decades have passed since. Who in your life has made such an impression? A teacher? Friend? Clergy person? Family member? As a child who had the unusual opportunity to sing at the Metropolitan Opera, I had the rare privilege of meeting some of the finest musical artists of the 20th century. One of them passed away a few weeks ago, just shy of his 80th birthday. His death made the national news and he was mourned not only by music-lovers around the world, but also by those who venerated him as a heroic symbol of human rights and freedom of expression. His name was Mstislav Rostropovich and he was generally regarded to be one of the greatest (if not the greatest) cellist of the 20th century. What made him larger-than-life was not only his incredible playing and ebullient personality – but his conviction, integrity and bravery. Rostropovich was a trophy for the Soviet Union – a national star in every respect – until – risking almost everything – he sheltered his friend, the “dissident” author Alexander Solzhenitsyn, and publicly criticized the Soviet government for its oppressive policies. Rostropovich was blacklisted. His recordings were no longer played on the State-run radio station; his concert appearances were cancelled; he was made a pariah. While on tour in Europe with his wife, Bolshoi soprano Galina Vishnevskaya – they defected and immediately their Soviet citizenship was revoked. They would not return to their homeland for more than three decades. I was introduced to Rostropovich in 1974. He and his wife attended a performance of the Russian opera “Boris Godunov” at the MET in which I had a featured role. I vividly recall his enthusiasm and shaking his huge hands – he was a bear of a man. Several months later, I encountered him again at Tanglewood – the summer home of the Boston Symphony – where he was conducting a program of Russian music. He not only remembered me (which is amazing since I was only a 13-year-old kid) but also gave me a ticket to sit in the “artists box” – the best seat in the house, as well as inviting me to the after-concert reception. At the time, I knew nothing about the act of defiance that had made him such a symbol. All I knew was the music. When I saw the news of his death scrolled across the bottom of CNN – I flashed back to our brief meetings. Luckily, I still have a single photo of the two of us at Tanglewood. A small amount of time….a very big impression. Cantor


	Rabbi's Message . . . May, 2007
	Kurt Vonnegut died yesterday (April 11th ). Don’t ask me why but I always thought he was Jewish. (Of course I think most people who have a social conscience and aren’t afraid to jab a literary stick into the eyes of the complacent are Jewish or at least from the North East.) Of course he wasn’t –he was neither Jewish nor born in the North East. He was from Indianapolis, IN, although at the time of his death, he did live in NY. I read the article that accompanied the announcement of his passing and was struck by two of his life experiences. He survived the suicide of his mother and the fire-bombing of Dresden. The latter by having the “luck” to be a German Prisoner of War and working in a meat packing cellar, one of seven POWs to survive. The former he struggled with and survived but the price of that survival was paid in suffering. After completing his most famous novel, “Slaughterhouse-Five”, Kurt Vonnegut went into a severe depression and vowed never to write another novel. Suicide was always a temptation, he wrote. In 1984, he tried to take his life with sleeping pills and alcohol. “The child of a suicide will naturally think of death, the big one, as a logical solution to any problem,” he wrote. His son Mark also suffered a breakdown, in the 1970s, from which he recovered, writing about it in a book, “The Eden Express: A Memoir of Insanity.” No one likes to be defined by their suffering. No one wants to be remembered for their struggles. None of us would welcome the descent into darkness that depression and mental illness are compared to. But there seems to be no question that some people grow both in spirit and creativity by these challenges. They become for them a kind of resistance-training exercise machine for the soul. As they crawl out of the valley of despair, panting and fighting with every step, they rise and their battle to reach the surface liberates the sparks of creativity within. Reb Nachman would say this: “From every descent, there is ascent.” I will remember Kurt Vonnegut differently now. He is a hero – a champion who fought with himself and with his demons and his gods. He persevered and left us richer. In the last book that he wrote ( a collection of essays), he concludes the book with a poem called, “Requiem”. An excerpt:
		When the last living thing has died on account of us, how poetical it would be if Earth could say, in a voice floating up perhaps from the floor of the Grand Canyon, “It is done.” People did not like it here.
	Cantor's Notes . . . May, 2007
	I know you’ve seen them. It’s hard to completely avoid them – especially in this corner of the world. On my daily commute to the temple, I pass several of them. When I do, I always read them to see what – if any - pearls of wisdom I can digest. Sometimes, they provoke a chuckle…. sometimes a moan….sometimes an unprintable expletive, and occasionally, a theological revelation. I’m speaking of the large free-standing “marquees” that many churches place by the road. Sometimes, these signs simply list the name of the church’s pastor, the times of worship services, and perhaps, the title of the weekly sermon or some upcoming special event – such as a concert, flea market, or carnival. Although some of us may think of this form of advertising as “goyisch” – there are many synagogues that do it also. In fact, the conservative synagogue that I grew up in had such a marquee. It listed the Rabbi, Cantor and other members of the professional staff, as well as service times, the weekly Torah and Haftarah portion, and the name of the Bar Mitzvah of the week. Many temples place such a sign on the façade of their building next to the entrance. What I have not seen any synagogue do – unlike many churches - is place pithy spiritual or theological “messages” on these signs (although I have seen “We Stand with Israel” – which is more about politics and Jewish pride.) The “messages” on church marquees are usually pithy – occasionally droll (i.e. “Hot outside? Come on in….we’re prayer-conditioned!) and somewhat predictable (you know in December you are going to see “Keep Christ in Christmas.”) Recently – on my daily drive, I passed two separate church messages that struck me as simultan