Shelter of Peace

(January 20th Sermon delivered at the Reform Temple of Forest Hills, kicking off Shelter of Peace's weekend of prayer and learning)

I felt a lot of pressure preparing for tonight’s remarks. Silly, right? I mean, I’ve given sermons hundreds of times before. I’m not usually shy in front of a big crowd. I’m a decent writer and speaker. So what’s the big deal? It’s not like anyone’s life depends on this one particular message. Or does it?

The truth is, our Torah, our tradition, teaches us that sometimes lives are really dependent on words and messages. Take the Akedah – the binding of Isaac, for example. We read of God commanding Abraham to sacrifice his only son. And at the moment that he lifts up the knife, an angel of God calls out and Abraham replies with his words “Hineini – Here I am.” These simple words stopped the action and ultimately save Isaac’s life. In the Joseph story, we know that Joseph was also saved by his words. He had been imprisoned for years in Egypt after being accused of touching Potiphar’s wife during his servitude in their household. But Joseph had a gift. He could interpret dreams. And instead of hiding this gift, he shared it with the world, first with his cellmates and then eventually with Pharaoh. He even got into Pharaoh’s good graces by advising him to be prudent during times of plenty so that times of famine would be easier to bear. Yes, Joseph’s words served him well and ultimately saved him, both from bondage and perhaps from death. In this week’s Torah portion, we learn of Moses’s most important words to a new Pharaoh in Egypt. Moses and Aaron repeatedly come before Pharaoh and say, “Let my people go!” These words aren’t just about freedom, they are about survival. The Jews were enslaved and were being killed, systematically. Their only chance for survival was to be freed, to be saved. And God had promised to protect them on their journey. All they needed to do was to use their words – to speak up for what they believed in, for what they could do to save their own lives and the Israelite existence.

So tonight, I’d like to take the opportunity, the chance, to help save a life. This weekend I join other clergy, both Jewish and non-Jewish alike, in spreading the message about teens who are in trouble. I don’t mean teens who have gotten themselves into trouble with the law, but teens who have nowhere to go, teens who have been kicked out of their homes and their lives, who have been cut off from their families. The homeless teens in our midst and on our streets this very night, who are in trouble and who desperately need our help.

This weekend, the Shelter of Peace, a faith based community initiative to end youth homelessness is engaging in a weekend of prayer and study all around the city to raise awareness on this issue. Shelter of Peace is a new organization that is a branch of Congregation Beit Simchat Torah (CBST), a gay and lesbian congregation based in Manhattan. Shelter of Peace was designed to create awareness and stimulate advocacy among people of faith, regarding the high numbers of homeless youth in NYC without adequate shelter. From recent surveys we know that over 3,800 youngster on the streets every single night. And of those 3,800 – 40% - almost 2300 teens identify as being gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender – the greatest single unifying factor of those out on the streets. Because of the dis-proportionate numbers of LGBT homeless combined with the fact that CBST is the largest synagogue in NYC for the LGBT community they do emphasize the specific problems faced by homeless LGBT youth.

Now I know that not all of us may feel similarly towards the LGBT community. I know that we may not all agree on issues of civil marriage, domestic partnership, or politics. I know that we all have differing views on the LGBT community and their agenda, and civil rights. But one thing I do know is that there are thousands of kids living on the street each night. And, ultimately, what unites us is our desire to create warm and safe spaces for these teens to continue to live, to grow and to thrive. And we cannot ignore one of the greatest unifying factors amongst these teens – that many of them are on the streets tonight because they were thrown out or ran away from home because of their sexual orientation.

This is not a sermon about gay rights. This is not a sermon about politics or civil rights. This is a sermon about helping our fellow humans who are in need. This is about speaking up and speaking out so that others might have a chance of survival.

Let’s go over a few facts: As I said, there are some 3,800 teens on the streets of New York every single night. This doesn’t count youth who are couch surfing, bouncing around from apartment to apartment, or staying in other unstable situations to avoid physically being on the street. I’d like to contrast that figure with the 250 beds that are available for homeless youth in New York each night. That means that even if a teenager gets themselves to a shelter for the night, they have a 5% chance of getting a bed to sleep in. Moreover, those teens who are LGBT might not even get to a shelter for fear of harassment, violence, or rejection based on their sexual orientation or identity. It’s estimated that 25% of those LGBT teens living on the street tonight are doing so because they were rejected by their family, treated violently, and harassed, by their own families when they revealed their true identity. They are scared, alone, and in danger of being hurt, either by themselves or by others. This is their reality.

I want to give you one other statistic: Right now, it is 30 degrees outside with a prediction of 1-3 inches of snow tonight. Living on the streets means more than being cold, hungry, and in danger of violence. It means not knowing if you’re going to live to see the next day. How many teens will we let die tonight, in this bitter cold, because they didn’t have a place to stay, warm clothes to wear, or a bed to sleep in?

We Jews have a moral obligation to help out those who are in need. We learn this week of God revealing God’s self to Moses. Employing the “four expressions of redemption,” God promises to take out the Children of Israel from Egypt, deliver them from enslavement, redeem them, and acquire them as the chosen people at Mount Sinai; God will eventually then bring them to the land promised to the Patriarchs as their eternal heritage. We have known enslavement and bondage and we have come through to the other side redeemed, chosen, and free. Now, it is our turn to help. Our turn to take out these children from the streets, to deliver them to adulthood safely, to redeem them from the horrors of being homeless and to acquire them as human beings capable of growth and great contributions to our city, our country, and our world.

So what can we do? We can speak out. We can remind others not to be complacent about these issues just because they are not at the forefront of our personal lives or minds. Every Friday night, for the last month or so, I have been welcoming you to our synagogue and commenting briefly on the weather outside. Well now, up until Pesach, the time of ultimate freedom and deliverance, we will be concluding each service with the temperature outside and the number of homeless youth on the street that night. That way none of us will forget about those who are in need. None of us will leave here taking our warmth, shelter, or safety for granted. And hopefully we will feel moved and called to action.

What else can we do? We can join the Shelter of Peace’s faith network and learn more about their action, their needs, and the ways in which we as people who believe in God and the good of helping our fellow in need can work together to mend the world. We are all children of God and our mission to protect these children is one and the same. By getting on their mailing list, finding out about them online, or donating to the cause, we can help those who are actively working to reach out to communities of faith and to help find homes and beds for all those teens out on the streets, each and every night.

Finally, we can take our own action. Shelter beds are provided by a combination of city and state funding. Over the last few years, this funding has been reduced significantly while the government tries to balance the budget. Shelter of Peace suggests that you call Gov. Cuomo and say, “"I support the Campaign for Youth Shelter. I am calling as a member of my faith

congregation and a New Yorker to let you know how important it is to us that you add to the Homeless Youth Services budget, every year, until all our kids have a safe place to

sleep every night." If you would like to take this action, feel free to pick up fliers that I have for you in the upper lobby with information and statistics, numbers to call, and ways to get involved. No matter what you do, do something, do anything. Because if it were you, if it were your kids, your friends, your relatives out on the street, wouldn’t you want others to help fight for their survival?

We learn from Pirke Avot, the “Sayings of our Fathers,” in Chapter 2, verse 22: Lo alecha ham'lacha ligmor v'lo atah ben horin l'hibatil mimena. It is not up to you to complete the work, but neither are you free to ignore it. There is so much in this world that needs our attention and it can feel overwhelming at times. But it is our job, our obligation, as Jews and as human beings, not to ignore these problems. Abraham did not ignore it. He responded with his words and so can you. Joseph did not ignore it, and he fought for a better life for himself and his family and his community. Moses did not ignore it, and he used his words, his message from God, and his actions. We cannot ignore those teens, those children of God, living in our midst, freezing and hungry and in danger on the streets each and every night. Use your words, use your faith, use your time and energy. After all, you might just be able to save another human being’s life. And that is the greatest mitzvah that any of us can ever hope to do.

May this be God’s Will. Amen.

MLK Shabbat - You and I can change the world

As many congregations are preparing to commemorate Martin Luther King Jr. Day this weekend during Shabbat services or weekend activities, I am struck by the juxtaposition of this week's parasha to our national holiday that celebrates and praises liberty, freedom, and rights for all humankind.

In the beginning of this week's parasha, Shemot, we learn about the enslavement of the Israelites under Egyptian rule, because Pharaoh was afraid of them. Terrible atrocities are to befall the Israelites as Pharaoh attempts to control and/or systematically annihilate them. But we learn of another person in this parasha - Moses. We know that with this man's help, resistance to Pharaoh will begin and change will occur. His leadership will be both thoughtful, comforting and (mostly) inspiring. Just like Martin Luther King, Jr., one voice is all that is needed to take a stand, to see the possibilities, and to take action towards liberation and redemption.

This Shabbat at The Reform Temple of Forest Hills, we are using our bimah Friday night to encourage our teens to speak their minds and engage their voices and calls for social action and social justice. In December, ten of our teens went on the Religious Action Center's L'takein program in Washington, D.C. During the four days they spent there, they learned, prayed, and actively lobbied to our congresspeople about issues ranging from global climate change, stem cell research, and civil rights. This Friday night, our teens will be reenacting that experience by presenting a "mock-lobby" to the congregation. Not only will the work they did be showcased, but they will have the opportunity to engage with our community as to WHY these issues are important to them, WHAT can be done about it, and the significance of raising one's voice and championing causes that are near and dear to them. Our teens, and all teens who engage in this sacred work, are a shining example of leadership, courage, inspiration and hope in our world. I am so proud of these teens, so grateful for the opportunity the RAC provides to our congregation, and looking forward to hearing our community engage with these issues on social action and justice.

No matter what you do this weekend - whether you engage with words of Torah or words of peace, justice, and action (OR BOTH!) take a moment to reflect on the power that one voice can have in this world.

Ani v'atah n'shaneh et Ha-olam

You and I can change the world

EMPOWERING RUTH

Many people who are interested in Judaism come seeking answers about what Judaism is or how to learn more about it. When someone has made the decision to become Jewish, they may know a lot of the FAQs and the logistics of Judaism. But how do you teach someone how to begin a Jewish journey? How to live a Jewish life? How to feel comfortable living a tradition that you have chosen?

That is why I am so excited about this program, Empowering Ruth. It is a free program brought to us by the Jewish Outreach Institute (JOI) and is aimed at women who have already converted to Judaism. It is open to the whole community and being taught at the Reform Temple of Forest Hills on Tuesday nights at 7:30 -
10/18
10/25

11/1

11/15

11/29

12/6

1/10

1/17

1/24

1/31

2/28

3/6

3/13

3/27

Come join us and discover the many paths and ways to be Jewish, both in your home and out in the world. Come learn new and exciting elements of Judaism with more in-depth study. Partner with other women in our community and around the country to begin having some deep and meaningful conversations about what it means to be a woman who has chosen Judaism.

If you or someone you know is interested, please contact me (Rabbi Elizabeth Wood) at rabbiwood@rtfh.org to learn more or sign up.

I look forward to seeing you there and learning more with you!

9/11/11

Last year, at this time, I wrote a post about what it meant to me to be in NY for the first time, remembering 9/11. You can read it here.

This year, the significance of the day has blown me away. It has been a decade. Ten years since our nation, our world, changed. Ten years since I sat with friends and watched our TV screens as the news unfolded. Ten years since we rallied as a community to pray, to heal, to sort through the literal and figurative debris of the mess that was left behind from that tragic day.

On Friday night, we had a service commemorating 9/11. We read pieces from the URJ website, the RAC website, and our prayerbook, Mishkan Tefillah. Reverend Julie Taylor, the Executive Director of Disaster Chaplaincy Services in New York City, spoke to us about the impact of that day and the tremendous efforts that her organization provided in the aftermath. It was moving and painful, all at the same time, to relive so much of that day.

Today, Sunday, was the first day of Religious School. The building was bustling and hustling with the sound of excitement and laughter (a few sobs from some nervous or scared kids, to be expected) and the building was overflowing with people. It filled my heart to see so many familiar faces, so many new ones, and such excitement and joy. As always, we had a worship service at the end of the day, and we took a moment to talk about heros, honor and making our world a better place.

Detective Yvette Maldonado (MSW) a 2nd grade level det. was present during our service. Dressed in the uniform she wore on 9/11/01, she stood with our kids on the bimah as they led our service. She stood as we spoke of the many heros and the fallen victims of September 11th. She stood as we spoke of the beauty and honor in our world that can be born out of ugliness and tragedy. We are so proud of Detective Maldonado, our congregant and friend, who used her social work background and her professional training at the NYPD to support families and victims on that horrific day and during the days and months that followed. A true hero, in our midst. What a wonderfully affirming day for our religious school children, to see such a role model and such a strong woman who did so much for our community and for NYC.

This day, these past few days, have been so moving and so emotional. So I end with a prayer: I pray that these children begin today with a sense of awe, excitment, hope, and wonder. I pray that these children grow up in a time and place where their fears are the normal fears of childhood, and not the fears of the world around them. I pray that we adults can support and nurture these children to become independent, responsible, compassionate, productive, and kind adults. I pray that these children live in a world that knows beauty and peace.

May this be G-d's will.

The Accidental Educator

It's no accident that I'm an educator. I've always wanted to be one.
When I was a teenager, I thought I wanted to be a professional Jewish educator - so I met with an HUC student at the time to talk through those possibilities. She told me I'd make a great rabbi - so I thought about that, instead.
When I was in college, I majored (for a brief period of time) in Secondary Education. I wanted to be a high school teacher in the humanities and social sciences. But then I heard rabbinical school calling, and my passion for Judaism and I switched to Jewish Studies and kept Political Science. I taught Sunday School, and led youth groups. There was no denying it - I loved to teach!
My first job out of rabbinical school was as an educator, running my own religious school. Surprisingly, or not, this job is much less about teaching and a lot more about administering to details and people. I loved what I did, but I also wanted to be teaching more.
As a rabbi, I get to teach all the time, which I love. But being an educator is about teaching through a pedagogical lens, no matter what the subject.

I consider myself very lucky. I work at The Reform Temple of Forest Hills as a Rabbi Educator. I don't run the religious school, but I certainly work very closely with our Educational Leader and our Education committees to help guide the program. I get to lead, teach, and contribute to the vision of not just what, but HOW, we teach our children and our community. I love that I get to combine all aspects of my rabbinate into a way that fits with the community I live and work in.

Over the last two weeks, I was living and teaching Judaism firsthand while serving on Faculty at URJ Camp Eisner in the Berkshires. I would teach kids from all over New England, the US, and elsewhere about the values of living and loving Judaism - ideas of holiness, of God, of ethics. Oftentimes we would sit out in the sun, or under the shade of a tree to engage in these lessons and discussions. But we also lived together Jewishly - praying each night together, celebrating Shabbat as one community, learning Hebrew and taking pride in what it means to be Jews.

My summer was capped off last week with a two day Summer Institute conference at the Jewish Education Project UJA/Federation here in New York. Our congregation is involved with an amazing initiative called LOMED, and this summer institute was such a great opportunity for us to reflect, learn, and reorganize our thinking about what is yet to come with this wonderful project and this great initiative. We are part of the Coalition of Innovating Congregations and it was amazing hearing about what so many amazing congregations are doing, educationally, for their students and their families. We heard from dynamic speakers like Ron Wolfson, David Bryfman, and Dr. Rob Weinberg.

I love being in Education. Being a rabbi, or "teacher", allows me to explore Judaism through an educational lens. It is no accident that I am an educator and no coincidence that I became a Rabbi. After all, I get to combine those things which I am most passionate about. What are you passionate about?? What are you passionate about learning????

Summer camp: Memories of a lifetime

All I can think about, lately, is summer camp! It's that time of year when all the camps are starting up and I am reminded of my own experiences as a camper, staff member, senior staff member, and thinking ahead to my work this summer as faculty.

When I was 8 my parents sent me and my brother to Camp Young Judea in Waupaca, WI. It was my very first summer camp experience. And I LOVED it!!! I loved it so much that I had two friends come back with me the next summer. But soon after that, we stopped going to camp for various reasons.

Then, one summer, a good friend of mine from home (the same who attended camp with me that second summer at CYJ) wrote to me about all this fun she was having at Goldman Union Camp Institute (GUCI) in Indianapolis, IN. Thank you, Becky Emery, for changing my life forever.

Over the next decade, I spent my summers at my "home away from home." I was a camper for two years, an avodahnik (someone who works around camp before entering college), a counselor, a specialist, a programmer, a driver, assistant head counselor and a unit head. It was here that I learned to be myself. It was here that I learned how to be responsible for myself and others and live in community. It was here that I learned to sing and pray and love God and Judaism and my own Jewish self. It was here that I connected with lifelong friends, rabbinical students and rabbis that would help lead and guide me on my own path to the rabbinate. It was here that many parts of my own identity were shaped and formed. There was a magic and power to it all.

Yesterday, I spent the day at Eisner Camp in Great Barrington, MA teaching the new summer staff various texts and exploring real-life questions and issues with them, in preparation for their summer ahead. It made me so excited to know that all of this magic was developing and happening at camps around the country this summer for future generations. I wish I could have stayed longer than one day - it wasn't enough! But I feel so grateful for the opportunity to be back up there later this summer for two weeks to work on faculty, advising a unit and teaching mini-courses, and spend time with kids from all over the country (including many from our very own congregation).

So I spent today writing letters to various staff members and kids around the country who are at different Jewish summer camps. Getting mail at camp is one of the most exciting things! And it makes me feel connected to them and to the various programs that are running right now. I also spent today reflecting on the huge role that camp has played in my life: yesterday, today, and how it will unfold tomorrow.

My brother never really loved camp. He couldn't understand why my parents (who themselves were campers and staff at various places in NY in the 1960's and 1970's) would send me there. Just for fun? Maybe. To get me out of the house? Perhaps. To meet new friends? Sure.
But I am here to tell you that summer camp changed my life and who I am forever in countless ways. It is an integral part of who I am as a professional, as a Jew, and as a human being.

Enjoy your summer, wherever you may be!!!!

Shavuot: The day I received Torah from my ancestors

A few weeks ago, my grandmother called me. "Ketzelah" (Yiddish for "kitten" - my grandmother's nickname for me), she said. "Have you received a package yet?" "No," I replied. "Well, our family historian, the one who had the Chanukkiah that our family carried all the way from Russia and you received a few years ago...she has another treat for you. It's a prayerbook, from Vienna in the 1840's. Her aunt's brother-in-law was traveling during World War I and he found this prayerbook with an inscription on it to the same name as their last name. He brought it home with him and cared for it. Now, she wants you to have it." "Really?" I said. "That's incredible. I'm so honored. But, what am I supposed to do with it?" "Well, you can use it, and care for it, and perhaps one day pass it on, as well."

Today is Shavuot. Today marks the end of the counting of the Omer - the time between redemption (from Exodus) and revelation when we were giving the Torah from God. And Torah is our sacred gift - the special gift of the Jews. We receive Torah every Shavuot as if we were standing on Mt. Sinai - and it is our responsibility to pass it from generation to generation - to transmit that sacred gift for future generations.

When I got home this afternoon, a box was sitting waiting for me. It was so highly packaged that it took me ten minutes to even get into it. And for good reason. When I opened the padded box and unwrapped the acid-free paper, there was the most beautiful prayerbook I'd ever seen. The back and spine, covered in ivory. The front, ornately decorated. And right in the middle of the cover are the tablets of the Ten Commandments. This is no coincidence.

I undid the clasp and carefully turned the pages, worn with time and use. On the front was an inscription in Yiddish (with a translation):

I wish you my dear child that you should in the ______ of the far west have good luck.
From me your loved mother who wishes you luck and good mazel.
Family Name

I began to weep. Certainly, I am not worthy of such a gift of Torah. This prayerbook, which was born in Vienna in 1847, has traveled through time and space to end up in my little apartment in Queens. It has been through wars, through homes, through hands, spoken by my relatives lips, as they uttered the prayers of our ancient people. No, I am not worthy.

And then it hit me. Today is Shavuot. Today is the day upon which we receive Torah - the transmission of gifts of wisdom and Judaism from our ancestors. Today, we all stand at Mt. Sinai, trembling, feeling doubt and scared and unworthy to receive these gifts, these blessings which we are given. It took 164 years for this prayerbook to reach me, but now it has found it's home - in my home and in my heart, and in the continued tradition of my family.

It is my responsibility to accept this piece of Torah, this piece of wisdom, to care for it and to love it and to make sure that future generations know its worth and its beauty.

Ken Y'hi Ratzon - May this be God's will.