G’mar Hatima Tova. It’s so wonderful to see you on the holiest day of the year. Parents reunited with children, grandparents with grandchildren, uncles and aunts with nephews and nieces, cousins with one another.
For those with whom I have not yet had the chance to meet in person, I look forward to getting to know you over the course of 5784 and I also hope to deepen my connections with those who I had the privilege of meeting last year. With our new team in place, most notably with the arrival of Chazzan Noah Rachels but also recognizing the extraordinary work of our staff and volunteers, we’re building something special at Mosaic Law Congregation and I’m tremendously excited to begin the new year.
In 5784 we have the opportunity to say, “This Year in Jerusalem!” Mosaic Law Congregation will be doing its first congregational Israel trip in over a decade, and I hope you will be able to join us. Please take one of the flyers outside with trip details and sign up after Yom Tov. You can direct any questions about the trip please to Bebe Halimi (our President’s wife) or me. I have some extra flyers up here if someone did not get one and would like to join us on the trip.
Join my family at our Sukkot Open House, Sunday October 1 from 2:00-4:00 pm. Please park at the west lot of the synagogue and walk over.
Last but not least please join us at 4:00 pm on Tuesday October 3 in the Center for guest speaker Henry Michaelski on his book Torn Lilacs. I heard him in Florida, and he’s outstanding.
Death-by Lucille Frenkel
Who can accept of its finality?
All of life’s complex, vast totality
Abruptly ended? What can be compared
Unto this moment, universally shared.
But who would agree such happening could be-
An end to being, mortal’s mortality!
Say no to it-a firm “No” bravely spoken.
Know bodies break, but lifesouls live unbroken.”[1]
What is your life story about? Each of us lives on this planet for an unspecified amount of time. Our job is to make the most out of the time that we have so that we can say we truly did our best to make a difference in the world.
Our life story can come to an end in a moment. There are so many losses in life which are inexplainable. Memorial Day Weekend I lost two former congregants from the Miami and Long Island congregations I served-one in her mid 30s from an aneurism while at her sister’s bridal shower weekend, and one who was in her later 40s and died from an accidental overdose on anti-anxiety medication upon returning from her niece’s graduation. There is no rational explanation for these events. God’s presence doesn’t justify the losses; it is there to console us at the difficult moments in our lives. Feeling a void from loved ones who have passed on while concurrently keeping them in mind is what living is all about.
This past winter and spring I spent 6 months in the JJ Greenberg Institute for the Advancement of Jewish Life with Mechon Hadar based in New York-though now with a West Coast Branch. The institute was named after Rabbi Irving “Yitz” Greenberg’s son JJ, who was fatally struck by a teen driver when he was biking in Israel. Rav Yitz’s ability to believe in a loving God with whom we are in continuous relationship after losing his son is incredible. Life requires us to pick up the pieces during times of brokenness. Rav Yitz has dedicated his life story to connecting people with God, especially at the times when it feels that God is distant from us. In so doing, he has taught over 2 generations his Torah, and we will pass it on to generations yet to come.
In Anderson Cooper’s podcast All There Is, there is an episode entitled “Grateful for Grief.” Anderson begins by discussing going through his childhood home and finding objects from when his mother had passed away two years prior and from his brother’s death from suicide at age 21 and his father’s death decades prior when Anderson was 10 years old. Anderson’s mother couldn’t emotionally handle going through the boxes, leaving it for him. After discussing his connection with these items, Anderson interviewed Stephen Colbert, who lost his father and two brothers in a plane crash when he was 10 years old. Stephen told Anderson, “It’s a gift to exist, and with existence comes suffering. There’s no escaping that. But if you are grateful for your life, you have to be grateful for all of it. At a young age I suffered…by the time I was in serious relationships, with friends or with my wife or with my children, I understood that everyone is suffering, and however imperfectly to acknowledge their suffering, and connect with them, to love them in a deep way that makes you grateful for the fact that you have suffered…I want to be the most human I can be, and that involves acknowledging and ultimately being grateful for the things that I wish didn’t happen because they gave me a gift.” Anderson Cooper was blown away by Stephen Colbert’s remarks.
This is obviously easier said than done, and not everyone can achieve this. As Anderson said, “How can you be grateful for the death of someone you’ve loved or a terrible loss that you’ve experienced?” Stephen’s reply was “I haven’t the slightest idea. I just know the value of it….in middle age I was walking down the street and felt gratitude for the pain of that grief…it allows you to examine the grief in a way that is not a red hot ember in your hands but rather can warm you and light your knowledge of what other people might be going through, which is really just another way of saying there’s a value in having experienced it.” [2] We are not grateful for suffering or death, but rather are most appreciative of our time here on earth and the relationships we have developed with others.
This does not mean we should love suffering. As the Talmud states, Rabbi Yoḥanan’s student, Rabbi Ḥiyya bar Abba, fell ill. Rabbi Yoḥanan entered to visit him, and said to him: ‘Is your suffering dear to you? Do you desire to be ill and afflicted?’ Rabbi Ḥiyya replied: ‘I neither welcome this suffering nor any reward that might come from it.’[3] The goal is not to like suffering. Rather one must continue forward, rather than giving up, regardless of the situation in which we find ourselves.[4] It means to say, ‘I can find good in this moment, no matter how difficult.’[5] It does NOT mean to rationalize things or try to explain the inexplainable. Stephen Colbert talks about people who go through tragedies as “It’s like they’re in a wind but you can’t see their storm. You just see the effect on them.”[6]
The significance of our life story is tied to how we live in the world, including what we value and what we teach the next generations. At times we might even be remembered through a sacred object. When my parents moved to Scottsdale just before the pandemic, they left items for Karina and me to examine and continue to use when we had our own house. During our most recent trip to Scottsdale, we drove a box of these heirlooms back to Sacramento. Among them was my great great grandfather’s bible from the 19th century, a gorgeous crystal dreidel and a pink, glass Kiddush cup. These ritual items now live on within our family. I’ll never forget a day school project to bring in a family heirloom; I brought my great-great grandfather’s Elijah cup. It was the most distinctive item I’d seen: green glass. Often, we don’t highlight objects-after all who someone was is far greater than what s/he had. Yet an object can be a means of keeping someone’s memory alive.
I am proud that my great-great grandfather, upon moving to the United States, maintained his Jewish traditions from Europe. I am proud that my maternal grandfather fought in Israel’s War for Independence. I am proud that my paternal grandfather served our country as a doctor in Korea. Holding these memories near and dear to my heart keeps them alive within the present.
When I counsel a couple before their wedding, I ask them to use at their ceremony ritual items that have meaning-perhaps a grandparent’s Kiddush cup, tallit, or family rings. Not only does this provide a personal touch but more importantly it ensures that part of their loved one is with them during the ceremony. As such, the chain of tradition extends one more length. Symbolic items can bind us close to loved ones. Of course, there is no substitute for their physical presence, yet even that can be felt at the wedding. When the couple wraps themselves in a tallit, there is an opportunity for the Priestly Blessing to connect with family members, especially those with them in spirit.
One might say, ‘It’s nice to connect with a few ritual items, yet what about when one has to go through an entire house, a lifetime of memories, which can be emotionally overwhelming?’ This is where I return to the conversation between Anderson Cooper and Stephen Colbert. Upon going through the mountains of boxes and belongings in his childhood home, Anderson was fraught with emotion, because “I’m sort of the last one standing, the last one who remembers these moments.” Stephen’s reply was “Isn’t it extraordinary to know that you’re the last one who knows that story, which is why it’s so important to tell that story. It really does keep them alive and make you less lonely. Someone else knows part of you. That story is built into the fabric, it’s built into the marvel that is you. Telling a story is so important.”
I began this sermon by asking ‘What’s your life story?’ That is what Yizkor is all about-in order to remember the life stories of others, we need to concurrently reflect on our own stories and how we live in the world. At Yizkor, we remember our loved ones and the examples through which they lived in the world. We can reflect on items they left behind in which their spirit is still present. My family uses Karina’s great aunt Annette’s fine china every time we host Shabbat or holiday dinners. In keeping these precious items near and dear to our hearts, our loved ones live on through us.
As we remember those who have passed on before us so too should we take time to reflect on how we want to be remembered by future generations. This year, I received two dad books-one to write my own memories and experiences and the other to do with my eldest daughter. I don’t know if they will be read in the future, but I am doing them to memorialize experiences. A book is not the only way to reinforce memories, however. When I was growing up our family memories were concretized through videos which we saw each time the family came together. One of the earliest was my bris, which thankfully was not shown more than once. Whether it is photo books, journals, videos, or art, it is important to put these memories in a tangible form.
Today I enter year 40 (though my 41st year of life) on the Gregorian calendar, I think about what my next 40-year period will bring. In Judaism we tell someone on their birthday “May you live to be 120 years”-like Moses. Moses had three 40-year periods: Growing up in Pharaoh’s house, living in exile and returning to free the Israelites; Leading Israel into desert for 40 years. Sigmund Freud wrote about three different stages in Moses’ life: Moses the Egyptian, Moses the liberator and Moses the leader.[7]
Whatever age we are, what is most important is that we think about what chapter of our lives we are writing today. What are the pivotal moments in this current chapter of your life? What are the joys and the excitements, the obstacles, and the challenges? How are you living your life in accordance with those who came before you and how are you self-differentiating? Whatever you are working on at present, the most important lesson is to remember is that each one of us is a work in progress and that we are linked to a chain of those who came before us. Our loved ones look on from above with a smile.
As we prepare to say Yizkor, I’d like everyone here to turn to the person next to you and to share something about one person for whom you will be saying the Yizkor prayer. What is one memory that sticks out in your mind about your loved one?
We say Yizkor recognizing that every moment of life is precious and to acknowledge our place in life’s endless story. We proclaim that each moment matters and that those who have passed on have impacted our lives, and we will do the same for so many others. It is not only memory per se but also remembering as a call to action, to make the most out of each opportunity we have. This is a daunting task for sure, but one to which we can live up. It does not take away the pain and the void we feel with our loved ones’ passing but rather it encourages us to live and spend our moments on this planet with confidence, with strength and with love. In so doing, we will write the most beautiful chapters in our life stories.
Mourners Kaddish-by Lucille Frenkel
Every human’s dying is our dying.
And that is why we hide-we hide from dying.
Death turns us from our childish ways and prattle
And forces us to face in life perspective
Our yesterday, our present, our tomorrow.
Therefore, we would swiftly sweep to graveside
The dead ones quickly, quickly out of being.
And speak death quickly-say it has no meaning,
And cowardice would render lifespan empty.
To this, our ancient wise one in past ages
Insisted death and life be one in Godness.
Life was no rag disposed of prompt and easy,
But living wove a tapestry called soulness,
A fabric rich in word and deed and thought.
And soul you do not fold and put to nothing
Once and forever as if it breathed no liferise.
And so began the method of our mourning.
And thus, the Jew declared that life was holy,
And in each death Jews celebrate God’s lifegift.
With reverence, we enter sanctuaries
To gaze again at tapestries we carry
Of those who were and whom we called beloved.
They live once more within each Kaddish chanting,
And we find roses woven in death’s pattern,
And here and there, a loveliness forgotten.
Every human life is but our living,
And every human’s dying is but our dying.
And this is the translation of Yizkor,
The beauty and the wisdom of the Kaddish.[8]
[1] Lucille Frenkel, A Jewish Adventure (Milwaukee WI: The Eternity Press, 1983). Pg. 119.
[2] Amderson Cooper. All There Is, Episode “Grateful for Grief,” September 21, 2022
[3] Babylonian Talmud Berachot 5b
[4] Sifrei Devarim 32b
[5] Based loosely off that Talmudic character Nahum ish Gam Zu
[6] Stephen Colbert, All There Is, September 21, 2022
[7] Sigmud Freud, Moses and Monotheism, 1934.
[8] Frenkel, A Jewish Adventure, pg. 117.
Meet Rabbi Herman 