Proverbs 9.6 [JPS Tanakh 1985]
I'm way behind on posting here so while I have the time I will post a few things that have transpired over the last six months. I missed posting some things here.... and time has sort of swept me along.
On the Erev Shabat of the 7th of Tamuz, 5767, having fulfilled the mitzvot of Hatafat Dam Brit, immersion in a Mikfah, and presented myself for judgment before a duly constituted Beit Din and found acceptable, I was called to the Bimah and accepted the yoke of the Torah publicly in the presence of my congregation.
The tradition in our congregation is that each member of the class who "graduated" is required to write and present a "Valedictory" speech that tells how and maybe why we have come to be standing before the congregation. I use the word "graduated" because conversion is not a good word to describe the process. It does not tell the half of it. You can't be converted to something you already are -- even if you didn't know it.
So with out further digressions here are the words I spoke to my congregation:
To be Jewish is to be a traveler. To heed the command of the One who speaks to us and says "Lech Lecha". When I was two and a half years old my parents left South Carolina and their Baptist heritage behind. They took my older brothers and I to California.
To be Jewish also means to dedicate one's life to learning. As I grew up my parents instilled in me both the wonder of the written word and the need to seek the inner, spiritual nature of things. It was no wonder that in my youth I became an avid reader and a poet then a lyricist and songwriter... There in California I began my journey as a mystic. I have wandered the last forty years in the desert. Until Now.
Some one said to me several weeks ago the reason many of you come to this particular service is to hear about what brought each of us here to stand before you. To hear our traveler's tales. But let me tell you a secret: our journey is your journey.
I could tell you about the places I've been, both in Darkness and in Light. I could tell you how I always weep during a seder or sometimes when we pray together. I could tell you things about ancient myth, or the psychology of ritual or even the price of placing my small human ego before the needs of another or the needs of my community.
To be honest, for all of my striving I am like many others in this world: a simple, flawed individual. I have no pretensions to greatness. I have no wealth or great store of wisdom. I know that I am the very least among you.
Yet our journey, yours and mine, to this very moment is all about how we each wrestle with God. How we each encounter a burning bush in the wilderness. How we each are called to bring ourselves and all those we encounter up out of bondage.
Frankly I think I could give you an itemized list of all the moments, the words, the odd coincidences that have affirmed the rightness of the commitment I have made this evening but they are much more than my time will allow.
Rabbi Lawrence Kushner has said, “Entrances to Holiness are everywhere, All the time.” I believe that knowing Holiness is not beyond our reach. Some of those entrances are in the prayers we share. Some of those entrances are in the things you have taught or shared with me. Some of those entrances are found in pursuing Kindness and Justice. Sometimes the entrance to Holiness is as simple as being willing to open our heart to see the world and our fellow human beings with new eyes.
This past year I have wept both in joy and in sorrow in this community. I briefly had the blessings of the friendship and wisdom of Peter Lindenberg, Seymour Dubin, and especially John Seers, their memory is a blessing to those who knew them. They inspired me to continue to seek goodness, justice and humility even if the path is not an easy one.
As I have studied this past year, I have been blessed with wise, kind and very patient teachers in Rabbi Holz and Rabbi Seigel, a class of patient and compassionate fellow students, and a supportive kibbitzing family. [OY! Have I got a family!?!]
I extend my thanks to Rob Turkowitz for showing me, when I first arrived in Charleston, how to save a sinking ship. To Billy Olasov, for being a kind, friendly if tearful man. To my new friends Ken and Susan Davidson, Debra and Peter Dubin, Robin and Gil Schuler, Marty and Shelly Yonas, David and Dolly Jaffe, To Caroline Jaffe who has made the sage and more than ironic observation that “Mr. Joel sure does talk a lot”. To Bob Wicher for his kindness and warmth even after discovering I have mystical inclinations. To David Bozarth for the hardy force of his presence. To Toby Singer and Koleinu for singing the songs for my heart and lastly [but not least] to Harold Jacobs for his acknowledgment, encouragement and many kindnesses. To each one of you I give my deepest thanks.
I especially want to thank my wife Cynthia who just coincidentally is my best friend and Harlee who is both wise and the daughter of my Heart.
While it may seem odd to you, the words of the traditional morning prayer for me seems to fit this special moment:
I give thanks to You, Living and Eternal One,
For having mercifully restored my soul within me.
Great is Your faithfulness.
And I will add:
From this day forward,
May the works of my hands, the deeds of my life
and the songs of my heart declare Your Glory. Amein.
I've got more things to share... like new lyrics for Ecclesiastes 3 and "How the Curtain Shootout" came out... but that's for next time.
hagedi
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