Jews have struggled with how to connect with and through prayer for as long as we can remember.

In fact, there is an old joke told that expresses some of the intrinsic difficulty. It tells of a man who is caught in a flood. Sitting on top of his house, he prays to God to rescue him. A helicopter and two boats come by, but he waves them off, saying that God will rescue him. As night falls he prays again for God to rescue him. He soon hears a voice from above, which asks: "Who do you think sent the helicopter and the boats?"

With all of the challenges that prayer presents, I would like to share seven lessons about prayer for us to keep in mind.

Prayer is about making connections. At its most fundamental and important level, prayer is about multiple connections. We join in prayer in order to connect with our best selves, with each other as a supportive community, and with that which is larger and beyond us. The Torah speaks of our ancestors connecting through offering an animal sacrifice at the Temple in Jerusalem: the fire, smoke and pageantry all helps us connect with relative ease. Our "offering" today, in the form of prayer, is more complex and subtle. As modern Jews, we are asked to give up our time and our sense that we are in total control of our lives. These are not easy, but the extra effort required does yield greater reward.

Prayer is a balancing act. Each time we pray, we have the opportunity to combine the words on the page with the needs of our heart. Just reading the prayer book, as wonderful and powerful as the words can be, is simply an act of copying another's words. And that is not satisfying prayer. But if we are to wait until we are individually motivated and "ready" to pray only using only our own words, then we may never be ready. In this case, we may never pray. Jewish prayer recognizes this tension, and asks that we combine the fixed words of prayer (known in Hebrew as kevah) and the personal emotions of prayer (known as kavanah). Each time we come into prayer, we stand balanced on the narrow bridge between these two. When we are unable to find the words of prayer, then the text is there to help us. When we find our prayers lifeless and dull, then we can look into ourselves for the spark that is seeking connection.

Prayer consists of variations on a theme. Public prayer also needs a balance; here it is between innovation and familiarity. Too much change leaves us unsure of where we are and robs us of the foundation of comfort that participation in a recognizable tradition can provide. A lack of creative variety leaves us feeling unmotivated and bored. The best prayer is made up of variations on a theme, much like an album from a favorite band. Here, the fan knows the sound and can recognize it as theirs, but can still be moved by the creative changes. Prayer should contain recognizable variety that engages the souls and minds of those who attend. It also allows for diverse leadership from the pulpit.

We can pray by ourselves. One primary role of prayer is to give us the tools to better appreciate and connect with our world, and the events of our lives. Doing this does not require anyone else. All we need is the willingness to slow down, to notice the blessings around us, and to understand and have words ready to acknowledge them. These are the words of blessings, which are available for almost every moment of our lives: from the largest transitions of life and death, to the most common and familiar moments like eating an apple while walking outside. Blessings give us the chance to connect with ourselves and the world around us, at every moment of every day.

We need each other to pray well. In addition to blessings that we encounter as we move though our day, we also have the tool of fixed prayer. Three times a day we are asked to stop what we are doing and ask why we are doing it. The mitzvah of prayer is an essential part of the terms of our relationships as Jews. Regular prayer helps us connect with our tradition by immersing ourselves in the language and images of Judaism; it helps us connect with our best selves by giving us the time and permission to focus our values rather than our tasks; and it builds our connections with each other so that we may better support one another and celebrate together. All of this takes commitment, and a willingness to prioritize. But like training for a sport, the regular repetition of the basics is necessary for us to make the movements reflexive. The more we attend these regular "spiritual workouts" the better able we are to handle the events of our lives, both profound and prosaic.

Successful prayer must lead to action. We should enter each prayer service open to the possibility that the values we express during prayer will change our behavior after prayer. We must be willing to let our words transform into action. The connection that is at the root of prayer needs to be expressed in the rest of our lives. This is one of the reasons we stand and bend our knees during the Barachu. It is an acknowledgement that our words must lead to movement, as our bodies cannot move without bending our knees.

Shabbat and daily minyan at Temple of Aaron must take all six lessons into account. As prayer in our community continues to evolve, we will be taking each of these lessons to heart. We will continue to have a variety of services, with a variety of leaders, and a constant eye on including elements of diversity, innovation and joy.

Prayer can be an amazing and powerful too, and central to our connection with Judaism. As Rabbi Louis Finkelstein, who was Chancellor at JTS (the Conservative Movements rabbinical school) said: "When I pray, I speak to God; when I study, God speaks to me." Let's all join in the conversation.

Jews have struggled with how to connect with and through prayer for as long as we can remember.

In fact, there is an old joke told that expresses some of the intrinsic difficulty. It tells of a man who is caught in a flood. Sitting on top of his house, he prays to God to rescue him. A helicopter and two boats come by, but he waves them off, saying that God will rescue him. As night falls he prays again for God to rescue him. He soon hears a voice from above, which asks: "Who do you think sent the helicopter and the boats?"

With all of the challenges that prayer presents, I would like to share seven lessons about prayer for us to keep in mind.

Prayer is about making connections. At its most fundamental and important level, prayer is about multiple connections. We join in prayer in order to connect with our best selves, with each other as a supportive community, and with that which is larger and beyond us. The Torah speaks of our ancestors connecting through offering an animal sacrifice at the Temple in Jerusalem: the fire, smoke and pageantry all helps us connect with relative ease. Our "offering" today, in the form of prayer, is more complex and subtle. As modern Jews, we are asked to give up our time and our sense that we are in total control of our lives. These are not easy, but the extra effort required does yield greater reward.

Prayer is a balancing act. Each time we pray, we have the opportunity to combine the words on the page with the needs of our heart. Just reading the prayer book, as wonderful and powerful as the words can be, is simply an act of copying another's words. And that is not satisfying prayer. But if we are to wait until we are individually motivated and "ready" to pray only using only our own words, then we may never be ready. In this case, we may never pray. Jewish prayer recognizes this tension, and asks that we combine the fixed words of prayer (known in Hebrew as kevah) and the personal emotions of prayer (known as kavanah). Each time we come into prayer, we stand balanced on the narrow bridge between these two. When we are unable to find the words of prayer, then the text is there to help us. When we find our prayers lifeless and dull, then we can look into ourselves for the spark that is seeking connection.

Prayer consists of variations on a theme. Public prayer also needs a balance; here it is between innovation and familiarity. Too much change leaves us unsure of where we are and robs us of the foundation of comfort that participation in a recognizable tradition can provide. A lack of creative variety leaves us feeling unmotivated and bored. The best prayer is made up of variations on a theme, much like an album from a favorite band. Here, the fan knows the sound and can recognize it as theirs, but can still be moved by the creative changes. Prayer should contain recognizable variety that engages the souls and minds of those who attend. It also allows for diverse leadership from the pulpit.

We can pray by ourselves. One primary role of prayer is to give us the tools to better appreciate and connect with our world, and the events of our lives. Doing this does not require anyone else. All we need is the willingness to slow down, to notice the blessings around us, and to understand and have words ready to acknowledge them. These are the words of blessings, which are available for almost every moment of our lives: from the largest transitions of life and death, to the most common and familiar moments like eating an apple while walking outside. Blessings give us the chance to connect with ourselves and the world around us, at every moment of every day.

We need each other to pray well. In addition to blessings that we encounter as we move though our day, we also have the tool of fixed prayer. Three times a day we are asked to stop what we are doing and ask why we are doing it. The mitzvah of prayer is an essential part of the terms of our relationships as Jews. Regular prayer helps us connect with our tradition by immersing ourselves in the language and images of Judaism; it helps us connect with our best selves by giving us the time and permission to focus our values rather than our tasks; and it builds our connections with each other so that we may better support one another and celebrate together. All of this takes commitment, and a willingness to prioritize. But like training for a sport, the regular repetition of the basics is necessary for us to make the movements reflexive. The more we attend these regular "spiritual workouts" the better able we are to handle the events of our lives, both profound and prosaic.

Successful prayer must lead to action. We should enter each prayer service open to the possibility that the values we express during prayer will change our behavior after prayer. We must be willing to let our words transform into action. The connection that is at the root of prayer needs to be expressed in the rest of our lives. This is one of the reasons we stand and bend our knees during the Barachu. It is an acknowledgement that our words must lead to movement, as our bodies cannot move without bending our knees.

Shabbat and daily minyan at Temple of Aaron must take all six lessons into account. As prayer in our community continues to evolve, we will be taking each of these lessons to heart. We will continue to have a variety of services, with a variety of leaders, and a constant eye on including elements of diversity, innovation and joy.

Prayer can be an amazing and powerful too, and central to our connection with Judaism. As Rabbi Louis Finkelstein, who was Chancellor at JTS (the Conservative Movements rabbinical school) said: "When I pray, I speak to God; when I study, God speaks to me." Let's all join in the conversation.

I have been concerned lately with all the disagreements in our communities, and about the toll they take. As is so often the case, there is a rabbinic story that can teach us. It gets to the question of how to disagree without damaging our most precious of relationships. I would like to share it with you.

The story is told:

For three years, there was a dispute between the School of Shammai and the School of Hillel, the former asserting, "The law (halakhah) is according to our view," and the latter asserting, "The law is according to our view." Then, a voice issued from heaven announcing, "Both these and these are the words of the living God, but the law is in agreement with the School of Hillel. But [it was asked], since both are the words of the living God, for what reason was the School of Hillel entitled to have the law determined according to their ruling? Because they were kindly and humble, and because they studied their own rulings and those of the School of Shammai, and even mentioned the teachings of the School of Shammai before their own. (Eruvin 13b)

We are reminded here that, while disagreements are necessary, even holy ways of searching for truth, we must be careful with how we argue. We must always strive to be "kindly and humble" especially in our disputes. Our behavior matters, our treatment of each other matters.

It is not enough to just be right. We must be righteous as well.

If we are not, we may pull apart our country, our people, our synagogue and, if we are not careful, our own hearts.

At a recent dinner, my nephew, Matthew told me about a character in a book he was reading, who said God spoke to him and that was why he became a Minister. Matthew asked if God had spoken to me and was that was why I became a Rabbi. His question made me think about what a rabbi is and how the role has changed.

Through the centuries the rabbi's job was to teach Torah, making sure it was relevant to the Jews of the times. The role of the rabbi in the modern world has expanded. We are still blessed to be a part of people's lives at major transitional moments. We still bring to bear the wisdom of thousands of years of Jewish tradition in order to give context and meaning to these moments. But we are called upon to do more.

As part of my daily study of Jewish texts, traditions and current events, I came across an article written by a local colleague, Rabbi Hayim Herring that proposes a clear redefinition of the role of the modern rabbi. It answers the question of what today's congregant can expect of their rabbi by suggesting that our role is as a Moreh Derech Chayim. I would like to define each of these words, explaining how they can capture the work of rabbis and propose how you should be able to see the impact in your own life.

The word moreh means teacher and guide, and as I said above, the fundamental role of the rabbi is as a teacher of Jews. We are charged with reaching out to each Jew, at every age, stage and level of interest, as a teacher of Jewish values and behaviors. At times, we are reactive, answering questions as they are brought to us and probing for more. Other times, we actively reach out, pushing and challenging Jews to live up to Judaism's highest values. We have two primary tools as teachers and guides: our rich text based tradition, and ourselves. The first allows us to remain grounded in eternal values, while also actively wrestling with the ideas contained in the texts, as we struggle to apply them to our modern world. The second gives us the ability to demonstrate--through our behavior--that the words are alive and can positively impact our daily lives.

A rabbi should challenge you with ideas, while also providing you with the comfort and direction that our tradition offers. Certainly we should answer some questions, but we should always leave you with new questions and directions for exploration. We should have reasons for what we do, but never be closed minded, and we should listen far more than we speak.

A derech is a path, and in this case, it refers to the active path of exploring Judaism. If rabbis are guides, then we need a path to guide along. Living a Jewish life means being able to access a Jewish path through the joys and pains of life. The Jewish derech is much like a hidden layer to a map, which gives you enhanced experiences and deeper understanding along the way. The rabbi can help show this path, and demonstrate its relevance to each individual. There are lifecycle events where the rabbi is regularly called upon to participate, but there are far more ways a rabbi can be involved. While it is certainly possible to live a moral and fulfilled life without this path, Judaism provides a tried and tested way of traveling this life.

The last part of the phrase, Moreh Derech Chayim, is one we are very familiar with, "life," as in "L'Chaim," To Life! Judaism has always been a religion that celebrates life, especially with its focus on behavior in this world and for the sake of this world. We are not motivated by a desire for reward or a fear of punishment in the next life. The reward is how we live this life now.

For the rabbi, chayim also means involving and engaging each and every Jew in a community of support, celebration and learning. Historically, this has meant that Torah was read and explained in public. To ensure that the maximum number of Jews could participate, it was read in the public square when it was full, on the market days of Monday and Thursday. This is one of the reasons we still read Torah on those days, in addition to the other day of gathering as a community, Shabbat. Rabbinic tradition evolved to accommodate realities back then, and rabbis must continue to do so today. So how do we engage every Jew in community like the rabbis of old? We must continue to promote and expand full equality for women. We must allow every Jew to participate in all rituals. We must actively find ways to involve non-Jewish family members in rituals and synagogue life.

Congregants must be the modern rabbi's partners as Moreh Derech Chayim. Your presence, participation and persistence are essential to making the necessary connections. We must be open and willing to hear the words of learning and challenge, to be guided and engaged in the path.

Prayer is a good example. If we enter prayer services, and are not open to being changed by the experience, then we are, at least in part, wasting our time. If we only do it rarely and expect results, then we are fooling ourselves, and if we don't come at all, or we have not come in years, we have largely closed off an opportunity to grow and experiment. Put simply, we need to be present and be open for Judaism to work.

If we do this, then our rabbis can practice Moreh Derech Chayim: as teachers and guides along the path of a Jewishly involved life.

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Rabbi Herring's article, The Rabbi as Moreh Derech Chayim: Reconceptualizing Today's Rabbinate, appeared in the CCAR Journal. Please email me for a copy.

At the root of all Jewish life is a radical assertion: that ancient texts, in a language few can read fluently, can have a daily impact on our modern lives. The basic assumption is that the stories and personalities from ancient times can still speak to us today in a meaningful way. We are used to looking for this kind of guidance at big, transitional moments, like celebrating or mourning together. But for Judaism to be truly meaningful, then these connections need to be more frequent. Over the next year, I would like to explore different ways that the ancient wisdom of Judaism can be applied to our lives today, beginning with Jewish views on leadership.
Jewish leadership is not just about leadership within a Jewish context, it is using Jewish values to improve our leadership at work, school, and during volunteer activities. The following frameworks can provide examples and inspiration for becoming leaders in whatever context we choose to use them. Each of these four Jewish Leadership Values is supported by a text.

Jewish leadership is collaborative. Part of leadership is the recognition that good ideas can come from many directions, and Jewish leadership values remind us to involve others in the decision making process. Having a variety of divergent views is the best way to create a plan and to solve problems. This idea is based on a phrase from the Talmud (Eruvin 13a) that solves a particularly heated discussion with the phrase Elu vElu divrei Elohim hayim "These and these are words of the Living God" indicating that all opinions have truth in them. We as leaders, using Jewish values, should always keep this in mind.

Jewish leadership recognizes a single decision maker. After the collaboration and the seeking of a variety of opinions, there needs to be a decision. The role of the leader is to guide these decisions, always keeping in mind the big picture and the larger vision and goals. We see an example of this in the Creation story. God creates "the two great luminaries: one to rule the day and one to rule the night, and the stars." (Genesis 1:16) The great medieval commentator Rashi notes that originally both the sun and moon were created the same size, but then the sun was made bigger because "it is impossible for two kings to use the same crown."

Jewish leadership is conducted respectfully. There is conflict in every organization and in every situation where we are engaged as leaders. Jewish tradition does not shy away from such conflicts, as the old joke reminds us: "two Jews, three opinions." Jewish leadership also acknowledges the importance of conflict as long as it is done in a respectful manner. One of the clearest examples that tradition provides is the way that competing religious schools of thought, led by Rabbi Hillel and Rabbi Shammi, got along. These teachers and their students disagreed about many points of Jewish law, and each was a strong advocate for their own positions. Despite this, they were very respectful of each other, speaking kindly to and about one another, often quoting the opposing view before their own, and always able to break bread together. Our government used to work this way. It is said that President Reagan and Speaker Tip O Neal "broke bread together" in the evening despite the many disagreements during the working day.

Pirki Avot characterizes this relationship as machlokot leShem Shamyaim, that is "arguments for the sake of Heaven." Their disagreements were focused on finding the best answer rather than personal, ego driven attacks.

Focus on the overall vision is the fourth Jewish leadership value. Without a strong vision, no group or organization can function for very long. Knowing where you are going is necessary to getting there, and is especially necessary to avoid being distracted on the way. We all know how easy it is to lose focus, and one of the roles of a Jewish leader is to keep reminding others of the overall vision. According to the Torah, the overall vision of Judaism is given to Avram very early on: veHeyeh bracha, that we should "be a blessing" to the world around us. (Genesis 12:2). This directive from God helps to focus the entire future of Judaism, reminding us to this day that we are here to make the world a better place. On way fulfill this vision today is to use these Jewish leadership values in every aspect of our lives.

We often see the modern world - so full of amazing technology and constant connection - as being in conflict with an active, meaningful, and spiritual existence. While it is true that our modern lives may provide new challenges to our Jewish connections, there are times when the two overlap in a meaningful, helpful way. I would like to share one such intersection, and the way it reinforced a very important Jewish value.

Before the High Holidays this year, I downloaded an app called Photo365 to my phone. It is a kind of visual diary, that allows me to take a picture a day, along with comments. The display is a simple calendar, with each day represented by the picture I take, and notes I make. Thus I can easily look at the entire month and see what happened when. It is by no means a complete record, but does provide an interesting way to show the most important event that happens each day. This allows me to quickly and privately store a visual memory, with far less effort than a full fledged diary.

I have discovered, after using it for a few months, that simply being aware of how I spend my time can change the character of a particular day. Trying to capture one picture that represents a 24 hour period, has helped me to look into each day for a positive, unique, defining moment. Even the otherwise mundane days can have special moments. It has also forced me to start each day looking for that unique picture. I find myself defining my day from the moment I wake up, rather than reflecting on what happened each evening. Using this app has also made me realize how quickly events pass from active memory. I can glance at the calendar and discover, for example, that it has only been a month since Yom Kippur, and two months since it was 90 degrees. Taking these pictures has given me a sense of perspective and taught me how I can set the tone each day and how I spend my time.

Jewish tradition realized this centuries before there were smartphones. In Psalm 90 verse12, we are advised to, ". . . know how to count our days rightly, that we may obtain a wise heart." Each of us can "count our days rightly" by positively shaping each day at sunrise, and reviewing it each evening. Rabbi Benjamin Segal advocates for an "awareness of the brevity of life and a good use of the time granted." Or, as Gandalf the Grey puts it in J. R. R. Tolkien's epic The Lord of the Rings: "All you have to do is decide what to do with the time given to you."

We are even more aware of time this month, as we celebrate Hanukkah, which is all about counting. We demonstrate a positive view of time by counting up, adding one candle each night, as we increase the light and the holiness in our homes. We also reflect the faith of our ancestors, who lit the candles in an attempt to rededicate a nearly destroyed Temple, by lighting the Hanukah menorah. They did not know that the oil would last for the entire eight days that it would take to prepare a fresh supply. All they knew was that they had to take action to define their day, and to bring light into the world.

Counting our days in order to attain a wise heart, is not about what tools we use, but the approach we have, as we meet the challenge of each new day. We can take the time to pause each morning, and then again several times each day, to ask: "What one moment do I want to remember and define today?"

This approach and discipline will help create a more positive connection to each day. And it is the best use of technology, to enable us not just connect quickly for twitter updates, but to help us connect deeply to our most important values.

The joyous and engaging Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur services this year were made possible by the dedication of Temple of Aaron staff, and the devotion of member volunteers. I want to begin by thanking the choir. Since we left slavery in Egypt and Miriam taught us to sing our praises to God, music has been central to worship and community. Thanks to those who helped uplift our services this year, Choir Director Tom Bartsch and members: Betty Agranoff, Sue Flynn, Beth Ballinger, Amy Miller-Stern, Emily Skadron, Doris Rubenstein, Jenni Schwartz, Ellie Bier, Marsha Schwartz, Jerry Schwartz, Dan Spector, Elliot Stern, Howard Bell, Hugh Gitlin, Mike Bell, David Baldinger, Josh Fineblum, and George Bier.

Torah reading for the High Holidays expertly arranged by Wendy Kane. David Baldinger and Jim Berg blew shofar for us. Linda Eisenstadt prepared and labeled the High Holiday ticket mailing to synagogue members. Terry Zien and Lynne Bell coordinated member participation on the bima. Thanks to all.

The Bima Team of Hazzan Kowitz, Rabbi Barry Cytron, Ritual Coordinator, Larry Eisenstadt worked diligently to provide engaging services that found a balance of music, prayer and participation, in both English and Hebrew.

Hard work and continued striving for improvement are hallmarks of the synagogue staff. Thanks to: Part-Time Kitchen Supervisor, Svetlana Kazistova, and Tanya Soroka, Executive Director Ken Agranoff, Business Manager Shelley Diamond, Administrative Assistant Kim Thomey, Ritual/Clergy Assistant Katherine Berg. The building is maintained by Bill Jorke and his staff: Todd Jones, Todd Schmidt, Jim Markus.

The Education and Youth Team continues to build a program to educate the next generation, and coordinated youth services, programs and projects that run alongside the main service. Thank you to Director of Education Joshua Fineblum and Youth Director Robby Erlich and Administrative Assistant Susie Haim. Thank you to Wendy Baldinger for her help leading the Young Family services on both Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.
Thank you to: Lindsay Berg, Shari Lowenthal, for coordinating youth art and and services, Janet, Samantha and David Zylberberg for taking care of babysitting during services, and Elliott Stern, Matt Bernick and Joe Lane for planning and leading the teen services.

During the Second Day of Rosh Hashanah, several of our students who visited Israel this past year shared their experiences with us from the bima. Thank you to: Andy Bernick, Matt Bernick, Ezra Strohm, Elliot Stern, Gilad Segal, Susan Balto, Morgan Werthauser, Sonya Rosen, Natalie Baldinger, Sophie Gotlieb, Sophie Burton, Maddie Gleekel, Mike Kowitz, and Max Lowenthal.

As we ended Yom Kippur this year, the entire congregation had an opportunity to do the first mitzvah of the new year by beginning to assemble the synagogue sukkah. Thank you to all who participated, to the Men’s Club and to Matt Clark for coordinating the project.

At the center of the creativity, diversity and joy that are hallmarks of the Temple of Aaron are the people who contribute so much to make this community strong. Thank you all. May 5772 be a joyous year for everyone.

We all know the basic principal of Jewish math: "Two Jews, three opinions." This is especially true for rabbis, as one of our central roles is to teach and inspire using words, most often in the form of formal sermons.

The role of sermons over the past centuries of Jewish life has changed, but the central goal has not. I would like to present a brief review of the history of sermons in Judaism, and offer a preview of this year's High Holiday sermons at the Temple of Aaron.

Why Sermons ?

Each sermon (by whatever name we call it: D'var Torah/vort/teaching/class/discussion) is an opportunity to connect the ancient texts and traditions of Judaism with the souls of those who are listening. Sermons are like fresh mortar between the ancient bricks of belief that strengthen our relationship with each other, with God and with the best within ourselves. This is truly a holy task and at the center of what it means to be a rabbi.

A Brief History

Rabbi Loius Jacobs explains the origins of our sermons in his book, The Jewish Religion: A Companion: "That sermons were delivered in the synagogue, especially on Sabbaths and the festivals, from early Rabbinic times, is attested in numerous Midrashim [rabbinic stories]. It would seem that the later Midrashim had their origin in sermons, although the Midrashim themselves bear all the marks of literary productions in their own right.

The usual preaching method, until the modern period, was to take scriptural verses out of context and to apply them to the religious and ethical questions of the preacher's time. This method of scriptural application became known as derush (from a root meaning 'to search' or 'to enquire') and the sermon became known as a derashah (from the same root, as is the word Midrash itself). Preachers were known as Darshanim or Maggidim ('Speakers' or 'Tellers').
Again, until modern times, the function of preaching belonged not to the Rabbi of a town but to the special class of preachers, usually learned men but not necessarily well versed in the practical Halakah.

In Eastern Europe, Maggidim would wander from town to town to preach in the synagogue, attracting the masses by their popular, homely expositions liberally sprinkled with proverbs, folk-tales, and illustrations from the daily life of their audiences."

As modern congregations evolved, so to did rabbis and their sermons: "The new type of sermon was more formal and in the vernacular, and it became a regular part of the service. The modern sermon is also based on a scriptural verse, usually taken from the portion of the weekly Torah reading, but treats a particular theme in systematic fashion and its aim is more one of edification rather than instruction.

The modern type of sermon became the norm in England and in the USA. Even in Eastern Europe in the nineteenth century, where the art of the old Maggidim still flourished, the sermons in Yiddish were often more sophisticated than in the past and more relevant to the burning social and political issues of the day."

High Holyday Sermons

For High Holydays, rabbis across the Jewish world seek to find a way to address, in a relevant way, the burning modern issues. It is with this in mind that I am crafting sermons for Temple of Aaron's celebration of the Jewish New Year, which begins September 28th. For Erev Rosh Hashanah, "The Four Rules of Ice Cream" which will look at how we express gratitude for those around us; On the first day of Rosh Hashanah, I will speak on "Have A Little Faith" based on the slim but powerful new book by the same title by Mitch Albom. On the second day, as part of our creative service, my sermon will be entitled "Tough Love: Our Relationship with Israel."

Erev Yom Kippur we will look at the question of "What Must We Let Go of To Move Forward" as we begin the intensity of fasting and self-examination, and continue on that theme on Yom Kippur day with "The Only Question We Only Need Ask."

I look forward to seeing you over the holydays as we join in the tradition of coming together; connecting though and, learning from, words.

As I write this, we are weeks into the State of Minnesota's government shut down. After reading the media coverage, and speaking with family and synagogue members who are out of work because of it, I am struck by the way our elected officials express the conflict in terms of competing values, and the importance of sticking to these values no matter what.

The deep traditions of Judaism certainly have much to say about the importance sticking to our values. Ethical behavior is at the core of being Jewish, and we have a long history of standing by these values even when the prevailing culture challenged and even oppressed us because of them.

But compromise is important also. In Judaism we speak of Shalom Bayit; acting to ensure that our home is a place of peace and refuge. We are asked to behave in a way that puts our own needs second for the sake of others.

Yet, how much compromise should make? Our values are important and we cannot simply abandon them or they end up being meaningless. Having values means we stick to them even when they are not easy. So the question is, which is more important, sticking to our values, or compromise? To find the answer, we look to our texts and traditions.

When it comes to doing everything possible to encourage compromise, there is no better example than Aaron the High Priest. The following story is told about him:

"When Aaron saw two people involved in a quarrel, he would say to each of them, without the knowledge of the other, 'My child, see how your friend is berating himself with remorse because of what he did to you? He asked me to approach you to seek your forgiveness.' When the two would meet, their quarrel would disappear and they would embrace." (Avot dRabbi Natan)

Aaron would go to great lengths to push for a compromise from both sides in order to end fights; even going so far as to tell a white lie. This clearly argues for the putting a good solution, one that leads to good relations, above all else.

But there is a limit in Jewish tradition to how far we go. A small lie, like the one Aaron tells is one thing, but we cannot compromise all of our values. This limit is expressed in the Talmud by asking the question: are we expected to pay the ultimate sacrifice for our values?

"Rabbi Johanan said in the name of Rabbi Simeon ben Jehozadak: By a majority vote, it was resolved in the upper chambers of the house of Nithza in Lydda that in every [other] law of the Torah, if a man is commanded: 'Transgress and suffer not death' he may transgress and not suffer death, excepting idolatry, incest, [which includes adultery] and murder." (Sanhedrin 74a)

Tradition teaches that there are times we stick by our values to the point of great sacrifice, but very few times. Of all the 613 mitzvot, there are only three for which we are permitted to give our life. This extreme example demonstrates that the value of compromise often takes precedence.

My colleague Rabbi Robert Scheinberg comments on the verse from Deuteronomy 16:20: "tzedek tzedek tirdof / Justice, Justice you shall peruse" and asks why the repetition of the word justice?

"The first time that the word 'tzedek' is mentioned, that means that you should follow strict justice. You should be strongly principled. And the second use of the word 'tzedek' - that word refers to compromise.

And then the Talmud goes on to present some scenarios. Two camels are approaching each other, in opposite directions, on a narrow mountain pass, and they can't both get through, someone's going to need to back up so that the other one can get by. Two boats are approaching each other, in opposite directions, in a narrow canal, and one boat will need to back up so the other can get by. Sometimes it's clear which one should back up and defer to the other, for example, if one boat is full, and one boat is empty, it makes sense for the empty boat to back up, and defer to the boat that is full of people or cargo. But sometimes the two boats, or the two camels, are both 'in the right,' there's no obvious choice which one should defer to the other. So in such a case, if you adopt the perspective of strict justice, they both will stay exactly where they are, and neither one will back up, and you have gridlock, and because of their strong adherence to justice, neither boat gets where it's going. The only way they will actually get where they are trying to go is if they develop some kind of compromise. For example, one camel, or one boat, backs up, allowing the other camel, or boat, to proceed, and then if necessary gives some kind of small compensation to the one who backed up, so everyone's happy.

The medieval commentator Rashi wrote on this section in the Talmud: 'You shall pursue justice when it's appropriate, and pursue compromise when compromise is appropriate, and you shouldn't pursue one of these more than the other.' In other words, if you are finding that you are always compromising, you may not be sticking strongly enough to your principles. But if you are finding that you are rarely compromising, then you need to show some more humility.

As with so much in Judaism, the key here is finding the balance between not compromising our values, and the value of compromise. May we all find that balance soon.

Rabbis have, throughout Jewish history, spoken often of community, and the importance of each individual being an active part. The great Rabbi Hillel warns that we should "not to separate ourselves from the community." (Avot 2:4) And when we speak about community, we often look at the large, defining events; the joys and the sorrows, the celebrations and the memorials. And these are important; we all benefit by sharing in our joys and supporting one another during our losses.

But we miss an essential aspect of community if we only focus on these large, transition events. We may inadvertently neglect the smaller, more frequent ways we can connect with each other, with our tradition, and with the best within our selves. I would like to offer you one way we each can be a very important part of the part of both the Temple of Aaron community, and the larger community of active Jews.

Sandy & Elizabeth Latts are fellow members with a request to help their daughter Lisa who is in need of a live donation. Please read their letter below, and consider this as one of many opportunities we can all become more involved, and strengthen our community.

Our daughter Lisa always wanted to be a mom. Last year, we were thrilled and excited to hear she was pregnant with twins. Lisa's medical specialty is at-risk pregnancies and during her own pregnancy, she did everything right -- then everything went horribly wrong. Lisa developed HELLP syndrome and had an emergency C-section. She delivered two beautiful babies, Sophie and Daniel, and although they were early and small, they did wonderfully. After the delivery, Lisa's condition quickly deteriorated and she was rushed to the ICU where she remained near death for 5 weeks. She was intubated, sedated and given more than 100 units of blood products for massive internal bleeding. She developed kidney failure and required daily dialysis and plasma exchange. She survived unimaginable odds and recovered from everything but the kidney failure. Finally, she took her babies home and we prayed that she was on her way to full recovery; we were devastated to learn that her kidneys would not recover. Her life is now filled with anxiety, discomfort and fear for the future. Three days a week, for four hours a day, she is being kept alive through dialysis treatments. She is on an extremely restrictive diet and must take a multitude of medications to manage her heath issues. Lisa can be healed, but she needs a kidney transplant. Only a transplant will allow her to get off dialysis and regain her health and her life so she can see her babies grow.

Lisa is on the wait list for a deceased donor kidney, but that will likely take 3-4 years. It is essential that Lisa find a living donor. A kidney from a living donor will last much longer and enable her to care for her children - guide their first steps, teach them to ride bikes, and watch them graduate from high school - all while working full time as a caring physician. Because of all the blood transfusions, she has many antibodies in her blood and therefore, most potential donors will not match. Several volunteers have already been tested and they are not suitable matches. For that reason, we need a large pool of donors in order to find a match that will work.

The transplant center at the University of Colorado Hospital (UCH) will coordinate all the necessary testing, which can be done in the potential donor's home community. An ideal donor will be in good health, between ages 18 and 60, with no history of diabetes or high blood pressure. There is no cost to the donor for testing or any part of the transplant process, including travel.

Donating a kidney is a major decision. The National Kidney Foundation's web site http://www.kidney.org/transplantation/livingDonors/info.cfm or http://www.transplantliving.org/livingdonation/ are good sources of information if you want to learn more.

If you think you are interested in donating a kidney to Lisa or if you would like more information, please send a message to akidneyforlisa@yahoo.com. Little Sophie and Daniel are thriving - growing, eating and smiling. They are beautiful! Lisa is a remarkably brave and resilient woman, but every day is a challenge. The twins need their mom! Please help keep Lisa in their life by considering a kidney donation.