Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Report from Jerusalem
Monday, February 27, 2012
Report From The Rabbinic Mission to Budapest and Israel 1
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Invocation for the Colorado State House of Representatives - February 9. 2012
Our God you have placed us in a world filled with beauty.
You have given us the ability to see, hear, feel, taste and smell Your creation.
But with these gifts come responsibilities, O God.
When we see injustice, You taught us never to be blinded by expedience.
When we hear intolerance, You taught us never to be deafened by indifference.
When we feel the sting of oppression, You taught us never to be dulled by complacency
When we taste the bitterness of bigotry, You taught us never to be lulled into the trap of dehumanization
When we smell the stench of hypocrisy, You taught us never to be fooled by the tyranny of the commonplace.
There is so much work to be done in O God! Help these legislators to use all of their senses to distinguish between the politic and the poetic, the sordid and the sacred.
May the urgency of the deliberations that will take place in these hallowed halls move beyond these rigid walls. May they provoke a visceral reaction in our society – stirring us all to strive to achieve our best and truly appreciate the many gifts you have given.
Bless these leaders and bless these proceedings with a passion for justice and a longing for righteousness.
May this day bring about change.
May this day be filled with hope.
May we all be open to Your presence.
AMEN
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Opening Prayer – Colorado State House – February 2, 2012
Opening Prayer for the State House of Colorado
February 2, 2012
Rabbi Joseph R. Black – Temple Emanuel - Denver
Our God and God of all people,
God of the strong and God of the weak.
God of the fortunate and God of the tormented
God of those who have no God.
Bless our doubts, O God. Bless our second guessing.
Bless our mortality and bless our frailty.
Help these legislators to ask important questions of one another – and, most importantly, of themselves.
Help them to win the battles towards which they have dedicated their office.
Help them to lose their battles with grace and understanding.
May the spirit of compromise infuse these proceedings and triumph over partisanship
May the passions that arise in the midst of debate be only for the sake of the good of our nation, our beautiful State and the communities from which these dedicated men and women have been selected to serve.
Grant us all the courage to grow, to learn, to laugh at ourselves and to see the holy in every person who enters these hallowed halls.
Keep us humble God – Keep us humble.
But push us also to strive to see the holiness that You have implanted within every human being.
We are nothing but dust and ashes. We are little lower than the angels.
Help us to live within the balance of our limits and our legacy.
May this be a day of new beginnings. And let us say: AMEN
Friday, January 20, 2012
Praying at the State House
Last fall, I received a call from the Colorado House of Representatives asking if I would like to be a chaplain for the next legislative session. "What does that mean?" I asked the person on the other end of the line. "It means that you are responsible for delivering the prayer at the opening of every session on a particular weekday. We start in January and end in May. Do Thursdays work for you?"
I thought about it for a moment. Over the course of my 25 years in the Rabbinate, I've delivered a lot of opening prayers. Usually, when a clergyperson is asked to deliver a prayer, it's a one-shot deal. You go to the function, sit on the dais, offer your prayer and that's about it. The nice thing about delivering an opening prayer is that, because they are usually a "one shot" type of event, one can reuse phrases and concepts on occasion.
This, however, was different. To deliver a prayer every week to the State House of Representatives meant that I would have to come up with new ideas each week. But it was also an intriguing opportunity. If I spoke to the legislators once a year, they probably wouldn't remember what I said. If, however, I spoke each week, they might remember what I had to say.
But before I could say yes to this request, I had to wrestle with how I felt about the concept of offering an opening prayer for a governmental agency. After all, aren't we supposed to value the separation of Church and State in our nation? Is it really kosher to offer a prayer prior to legislative action? Might that compromise my values? One the other hand, however, I knew that there were many clergy who would relish the idea of inserting God into the House of Representatives. Perhaps my presence could be a moderating and balancing factor to the more fundamentalist preachers who would seize on the opportunity to evangelize and insert their particular brand of religion into the legislative process?
And so, I agreed to do it.
I have a question for you all: If you could deliver a prayer to the Colorado House of Representatives, what would you like to say? I really do want to hear from you. No guarantees that I will use your ideas, but I promise to read them all.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Joe Black
Monday, December 12, 2011
Tebow, Faith and Fantasy
The basic premise of the article was that Tebow’s unabashed expressions of faith have provoked as strong a reaction within the general populace as his remarkable ability to rally to victory in the last few minutes of every game.
What is it about Tim Tebow’s faith that is so compelling? Why do so many people find it difficult to swallow the fact that he sees no disconnect between his actions on the field, in his house of worship and in his daily life? There is no doubt in my mind that he is genuine. He believes – deeply – in God and is convinced that God has placed him here to witness the power of what he believes God’s truth can do.
From a theological perspective, the idea that God favors one football team over another is ludicrous at best – taken to its logical extreme it is disturbing, even obscene at worst. Yes – our stadium is located a Mile High – but that doesn’t mean that we are closer to God. And, to his credit, Tebow has never stated that God is on the side of the Broncos. At every opportunity he has praised his teammates and acknowledged his frailties. And yet, it’s hard not to consider, even for a moment, the possibility that Tebow’s last-minute comebacks might have just a little bit of divine intervention in them. And if you read some of the comments posted on the right-wing blogospere, you will see that there are many who have no doubt that God is a Bronco fan who wears an orange and blue jersey with the number 15 on the back.
The problem is that those who claim to have God on their side areusually dangerous. Football is fairly benign. There are other, far more sinister arenas where the concept of Divine Triumphalism has taken its toll. Throughout history - from the Crusades to September 11th - holy warriors have been responsible for great suffering. Perhaps this is why so many people are upset with Tebow’s prayers and pronouncements. If God favors one side then, by logical extension, the other side must not be in God’s favor. What would happen if every team prayed for victory before every game? Instead of looking at coaching, game plans, raw talent and luck we might instead have post game analysis linked to theological consistency and liturgical spirituality…..The possibilities boggle the mind.
Moving away from logic, there is one upside of the Tebow phenomenon. It has people talking about faith, about God and about belief. In my opinion, these are all good things. If we are uncomfortable with Tebow’s faith, what kind of faith is comfortable for us? And who said that faith needs to be something we are comfortable with? From my experience, those moments when we confront our faith are the times when we are out of our comfort zones: times of great joy and great sorrow; times of angst and times of absolute certainty. Judaism teaches that we should search for God not only in the highest of highs and the lowest of lows – but every day. God is found in the “still small voice” that calls to us when we are ready to hear.
So I want to take this opportunity to thank Tim Tebow for giving us the opportunity to have this discussion. Go Broncos!!!
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Two Different Kinds of Light
In a few weeks, we will be kindling the candles on our Chanukiot (Chanukah Menorahs.) There is an interesting argument in the Talmud between the Schools of Hillel and Shammai regarding the proper way to light the Chanukiah. Shammai contends that we begin with eight lights and remove one each night. Hillel says the opposite – we begin with one and add more until the last night is the brightest. The law, of course, follows the school of Hillel – and yet, in order to show respect to Shammai, we light the candles from left to right – instead of right to left.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about lighting candles. As many of you know, my father, Sidney Black died and was buried last month in Chicago. Immediately upon returning from the cemetery, my family and I lit a Shiva Candle that burned for seven days. We spent the first half of the shiva in Chicago and the second half here in Denver. Unlike the Chanukiah which increases in brightness with every added candle. The light of the Shiva Candle is designed to gradually extinguish itself– a powerful reminder of both of the passage of time and the fragility of our lives and those whom we love.
Over the 25 years of my rabbinate, I have guided many families through periods of mourning. I have stood by and said prayers when loved ones tear the keriah ribbon – acknowledging the wounds in their hearts. I have stood at graveside and said kaddish and shuddered at the sound of earth falling on a coffin. I have helped light Shiva candles and held the hands of those who were saying kaddish for the first time. Until now, however, I have never had the experience of experiencing the power of allowing others to be there for me in my time of loss.
Like the gradually extinguishing light of the Shiva candle, the path of mourning is designed to help those who grieve to descend to the depths of their emotions and gradually to rise up once again to become part of society. It is a slow and deliberate process that allows and forces us to confront both
Rabbi Joseph R. Black