Old friends

Time it was, and what a time it was, it was 

A time of innocence, a time of confidences.

Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph 

Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you

We all have those special friends.  A childhood pal, the first friend at college, a graduate school buddy. For me, one of them is Uriel.   My madrich/group leader/RA from Tel Aviv university in 1984. When I first fell in love with israel.    He was the first friend I had from another country. A few years older, Uriel was assigned to help American students become absorbed in the culture of israel.   We became fast friends.  We shared holidays and vacations,  meals and friends.  Once, while travelling, we shared the international herald tribune. "lets see what's happening at home" I said...   That week In Uruguay there was a revolution to overthrow the government...In America they were taste testing new coke vs old coke....He laughed. I cried. 

For almost the past 30 years We've been through a lot together. Grad school, relationships, children.  We've had lots of laughs and yes, lots of tears but the connection remains.  Its not constant.  It can be somewhat infrequent. But no matter what, its a deep connection that spans the miles and the years. In many ways,  He is still my madrich, helping to show me the way. He reminds me that I am a human being first. And tomorrow as I watch his youngest son read from the Torah in Miami, I know that the circle continues.  The circle deepens.   Once in a while you come across a friend that you can hug so deeply and tightly and always feel 21 again, with the wind blowing through some really dark hair. 

The Diameter of a bomb

Hours after a suicide bomber blew up the Dolphinarium in June  of 2001 in Tel Aviv killing  20 teenages out having fun on a friday night, a small sign was taped to the front door of the mangled building.   It simply said   "Lo nafsik lirkod".  We will not stop dancing.  In Israel  they havent stopped dancing amd in Boston they will not stop running.    Because that's what we have to do.  Keep on going.  What choice do we have?    It took hours to track down friends and congregants who were in Boston yesterday. Luckily everyone was accounted for.  I'm so proud of Larry, Megan, and Sarah for who they are and for what they accomplished.      The 26.2 miles they ran yesterday is  just the beginning, actually it's now the easy part, of the distance they will cover as they forever feel the pain of this race.   Even those of us who didn't run, will forever feel the impact.  
Israeli poet Yehuda Amechai  said it best.....
The diameter of the bomb was thirty centimeters
and the diameter of its effective range about seven meters,
with four dead and eleven wounded.
And around these, in a larger circle
of pain and time, two hospitals are scattered
and one graveyard. But the young woman
who was buried in the city she came from,
at a distance of more than a hundred kilometers,
enlarges the circle considerably,
and the solitary man mourning her death
at the distant shores of a country far across the sea
includes the entire world in the circle.
And I won’t even mention the crying of orphans
that reaches up to the throne of God and
beyond, making a circle with no end and no God.
beyond, making a circle with no end and no God.

Making music

For many years Monday nights in my family were "special".   From 1967-1973 we lived in Pittsburgh and every Monday night we would go to the fancy apartment of my Aunt Bess.   Bess was my grandfathers younger sister,  but she was also the concertmaster of Pittsburgh's Gateway Symphony.  Every Monday, we would go to her apartment on Fifth Avenue for dinner.  And, after dinner, my parents would do the dishes as my brother and I would be called one by one into the den for our weekly Violin lesson.  With the exception of Pizzicato, Rosin a bow, and metronome,  I dont remember much about those lessons.   I was horrible. I invented sounds that didnt exist.     My brother, on the other hand, was brilliant. No shock there.... After about a year, even Aunt Bess gave up on me.   My brother continued with the lessons.  We continued with the dinners. He used my time as well  and I got to do the dishes with my parents. To this day, I still love doing the dishes....
After years of family abuse and ridicule,  I finally got over my failure, and i must admit I just love to listen to the Violin.    Last night I wantched from the 5th row as Itzhak Perlman played a benefit for the Israel Sports Center for the Disabled.   The very place, as a young child, after being diagnosed with Polio, Perlman attended in Israel,  to learn how to swim and to play ping pong and to begin to gain control of his terribly weakened body.  As always,  he was awesome. He was  humerous, engaging and immensely talented. He made the violin do things that I didnt think possible. He made it look so easy.   As he scooted out in his amiga chair, I felt for a moment that I wasn't at Symphony Hall, but was comfortably siting on the couch in Aunt Bess's Den.  He made it look so easy.  But,  thats what everyone at the Israel Sports Center for the Disabled does every single day.   Swimmers with one leg, 16 year old Wheelchair ping pong players, Para-olympic tennis players.   Its with determination, guts, and focus  that these athletes accomplish their dreams. Its these individuals who inspire me to push myself to always be better.      Watching him last night reminded me of the very famous Itzhak Perlman story I shared at the very last High Holiday sermon I gave at Temple Sholom 11 years ago, just after 9/11.  

Jack Riemer from the Houston Chronicle once wrote about a concert that Itzhak Perlman gave at Lincoln Center in New York City in 1995. Just as he finished the first few bars of the concerto, one of the strings on his violin broke. Instead of finding another violin or another string, he waited a moment, closed his eyes and then signaled the conductor to begin again. The orchestra began, and he played from where he had left off. The writer mentions that Perlman played with such passion, power and purity, as he had never heard before.
"Of course", he wrote, "anyone knows that it is impossible to play a symphonic work with just three strings. I know that, and you know that, but that night Itzhak Perlman refused to know that. You could see him modulating, changing, and recomposing the piece in his head. At one point, it sounded like he was de-tuning the strings to get new sounds from them that they had never made before."
When he finished, there was silence in the room, and then there was an extraordinary outburst of applause. The audience leap to their feet, screaming and cheering, showing how much they appreciated what he did. He then raised his bow to quiet the audience and simply said: "You know, sometimes it is the artist's task to find out how much music you can still make with what you have left."

In some ways thats what we all must do each and everyday in this amazing world in which we live.    We must make music:  First  we do it with all that we have, and then, for whatever reason when that is no longer possible, we make music with what we have left.

Aunt Bess.....I'm very sorry I didn't practice.  

 

New traditions

We all wear masks.. Sometimes they are just bigger and sometimes we hide behind them. Yesterday I wore a really big one. Like the size of a Bunny Rabbit. A 6 foot Bunny Rabbi. It began at a Glencoe Interfaith Clergy meeting last month. My friends and fellow Pastors, rabbis , reverends and priests all get together and meet on a regular basis. We get a lot done. We share a lot of laughs. We help each other out. We Pastor and Pester each other. Last month when talking about the upcoming holidays of Passover, Easter and Holy Week, the discussion turned to the Easter Bunny. Seems as if the Easter Bunny hadn’t made an appearance in Glencoe in quite some time. So I offered. No Religious School…. I wasn’t busy on Sunday.
My only stipulation was a full mask as I didn’t want anyone to actually see that it was
I found the perfect one on sale and on Easter Sunday I quickly got dressed in my office. I stopped to buy a basket and some candy. Church Services were over at 11:05 and I had a few minutes to kill so I stopped at the Local Starbucks I walked in and was embraced. Out came the cell phones and cameras of the locals….Many who were members of MY congregation. “Can we take a picture with you?” “We love the Easter Bunny?” Without saying a word , hiding behind my mask, and I must admit LMAO, I handed out candy, posed for pictures and simply brought smiles to many, many faces.
I hopped on over to the church and heard the organ blast out the closing song. I was ready. The Eggs were hidden and the families came running out in their Easter best. Several asked that I hold their babies, and Bless them. Other asked for family pictures. I passed out eggs and handed out candy and simply shared the spirit and joy that they felt at the moment.
I got back in my car and needed some more candy so I stopped at the Grocery Store. I said hello to the staff and greeted people as they entered. I wandered over to the candy aisle and took a few bags As they were ringing me up I wrote the manager a note.
No money I’m good for it…. I promise SHHH It’s me Rabbi Steve. The manager laughed and shook his head. I headed over to St Pauls AME where the choir was rocking out. I started dancing in the back. The Pastor invited me up. I handed out candy as I walked down the front. Norris asked me to say a few words….. I broke character and spoke I handed him some Peeps “We are all in this together” I said and I wished them a Blessed Easter. The cutest little guy came up to the front as I was walking away. I walked towards the baby and he ran away crying. Sometimes people really get scared when the see the masks that we wear.

I’d like to think that we improved Interfaith relations yesterday here in Glencoe with the appearance of the Easter Rabbit I mean Rabbi. I hope it's an annual tradition because I now own a bunny costume.