The ancient midrashic work, Vayikrah Rabbah (IV:6), contains the following anecdote. Rabbi Shimon bar Yohai, a Palestinian rabbi of the second century of the Common Era, taught: “[There once was] the case of men on a ship, one of whom took a hand drill and began boring a hole beneath his own seat. His fellow travellers said to him: ‘What are you doing?’ Said he to them: ‘What does that matter to you, am I not boring under my own place?’ Said they: ‘But the water will come up and flood the ship for us all.’”
As I compose this next installment in my series of rabbinic quarterly messages, I am reflecting on a session at the recent adult Jewish education event in Albuquerque called A Taste of Honey, sponsored by the Jewish Community Center. The panel discussion I attended was called “Pew and Jew,” and it included a summary of the findings from the Pew Research Center survey of Jews in America as well as touching on the implications and applicability of the results on the Jewish communities of New Mexico. Whether you agree with the findings of the survey or not, for me one inescapable truth is that we Jews are all on the same ship, and when one Jew begins drilling a hole in the bottom of the boat, we all are in danger. The Babylonian Talmud Shevuot 39a says succinctly that all Jews are responsible for one another.
During an earlier session at A Taste of Honey, I taught a class about Jewish culinary traditions from Biblical times through the medieval era entitled “The People of the (Cook) Book.” Among my other rabbinic activities over the past three months was the opportunity to deliver the opening prayer one day during the New Mexico State Senate session. I shared with the legislators the same anecdote above to inspire them to work together on behalf of the citizens of New Mexico.
Beverly and I took a mini-vacation at the end of December and traveled to the southern part of New Mexico. At Temple Beth-El in Las Cruces, I presented a D’var Torah on Shabbat courtesy of Rabbi Larry Karol, and the following day, I conducted a wedding ceremony on a majestic spot of undeveloped land just outside the Gila Wilderness. Both bride and groom, along with most of the relatives present, were Ph.D. scientists, and somehow it seemed fitting to have the officiant be a Ph.D. physicist rabbi.
Rabbi Malka Drucker, founding rabbi of the HaMakom congregation in Santa Fe, has been away on a multi-month leave, giving me the privilege of leading services on a regular basis with Hazzan Cindy Freedman. Many of the congregants, including me and Beverly, travelled up to Boulder, Colorado at the end of January to celebrate as Cindy received her ordination as a full-fledged cantor. It was a tremendously moving ceremony, and we were all proud of Hazzan Cindy’s accomplishment. Beverly and I stayed on in Boulder for the next three days attending the annual conference of OHALAH, the Association of Rabbis for Jewish Renewal. It was a wonderful experience, and I hope to attend this conference in future years.
Looking over my reading list of the past three months, it appears that I’ve focused disproportionately on the scholarly, possibly a reflection of some increased responsibilities at Los Alamos National Laboratory which have forced me to make multiple trips to Washington, D.C. in search of funding. Those long flights are conducive to massive tomes. I enjoyed Essential Papers on Judaism and Christianity in Conflict: From Late Antiquity to the Reformation – edited by Jeremy Cohen, Genius: Elijah of Vilna and the Making of Modern Judaism by Eliyahu Stern, and Studies in Jewish Law, Custom and Folklore by Jacob Z. Lauterbach. For lighter reading, I recommend Jewish Anecdotes from Prague by Vladimir Karbusicky and Super Sad True Love Story by Gary Steyngart. And for a different slice of Judaism than traditional Ashkenazic fare, I found Baghdad, Yesterday by Sasson Somekh a most pleasurable escape.
When next I write to you, we will have emerged from slavery and celebrated our freedom during Passover. I urge you to look out for your fellow Jews, making sure that everyone has a seder to attend.
And if you see them lift a hand-drill or start to deliver a long sermon, be careful they don’t start boring.
B’shalom, Rabbi Jack