Los Angeles Jewish Home

One of the Torah readings this month includes two stories that look like they are heading for a disastrous conclusion. The stories concern the fate of one or other of Abraham’s sons, Ishmael and Isaac.

At the urging of his wife Sarah, Abraham sends away his concubine Hagar and her child Ishmael (Abraham’s elder son). Mother and child set off into the desert carrying food and water, but before very long, the water bottle is empty. Hagar cannot bear to see her son die, so she puts him under a bush, goes to sit some distance away, and weeps bitterly. As for us, at this point in the story we have feelings of distress, of doom. There is no future.

Let’s leave that story for a moment and look at the other – the horrific tale we call the Akeda, the binding of Isaac. We are told that God tests Abraham, instructing him to take his beloved son Isaac and sacrifice him as a burnt offering. We watch with horror as Abraham prepares for the journey, without a word of protest. He and Isaac arrive at the designated place. Abraham builds the altar, binds up Isaac and lays him on the altar; he takes the knife and makes ready to slay his son.

Again, as in the story of Hagar and her son Ishmael, we feel so helpless, as it seems the story must take its inevitable, painful, course. It’s partly that in each case, the adult sees no alternative. Each is blinded to other alternatives. Hagar is wailing as her son faces certain death. Abraham is determinedly doing what he believes is the will of God, seemingly unable to shift course and put life before death.

I believe we have all had moments when we feel there is no way forward. A sense that life – real living – has come to a stop. But in these stories new inspiration and new life intervene.

God interrupts Hagar’s wailing and tells her to go back to her son, promising that the boy’s descendants will become a great nation. Well, God speaking is all very well, but let’s not forget Hagar has run out of water. So although she must be heartened by God’s words, she still cannot see a way out of the deathly present, into a life-full future. Isn’t it true for us too? When we’re stuck, we just can’t see a way forward.

So God intervenes in a different way. He “opens Hagar’s eyes”. To her (and our) surprise, where Hagar has seen only desert, she now sees, just a short distance away, a spring of fresh water. She fills the water bottle, goes to her son, and gives him to drink.

Let’s return quickly to that other story. We left Abraham, knife in hand, about to slay his son Isaac, bound on the altar in front of him. Here again, it is God’s voice that interrupts Abraham’s set path, calling to him not to kill his son, not to harm him in any way. God says that, as Abraham has shown his willingness to listen to God’s word, Isaac (like Ishmael in the other story) will be the father of a great nation.

I picture Abraham as still paralyzed, unable to take a step away from the brink, unable to make the move towards life. He still needs to see a way forward. We read then that Abraham lifts up his eyes and sees a ram caught in a thicket by its horns. That’s when he is able to change course: he sacrifices the ram instead of his son Isaac.

So each of these stories has a surprise twist that enables the person to “see” what couldn’t be seen before – a spring of water, or a ram caught in the thicket. Suddenly there are possibilities.

I know that sometimes, for instance after the tragic loss of a loved one, or when one is struck by major illness or disability, there may seem no more possibility of rich and valuable life. But I have seen so many residents find new meaning in their lives, new possibilities of richness and joy. Here is a challenge to us all, to be willing to be surprised – to discover that the course of our own story may have a twist we didn’t expect, one that we couldn’t have dreamt of, one that opens a new path to a life of meaning and richness. Let’s just open our eyes!

Rabbi Anthony Elman

Rabbi Anthony Elman is the Skirball Director of Spiritual Life at the Jewish Home and also serves as Rabbi of the Home's Grancell Village campus. His professional background is multifaceted, encompassing the fields of law, social work, and psychotherapy. Rabbi Elman has been with the Home since his ordination and graduation from the Academy for Jewish Religion-California in May 2007

Labels: Abraham, Aging, Akeda, Elman, Getting Older, God, Hagar, Isaac, Ishmael, Letter from the Rabbi, Life, New Meaning, No Alternative, Open Your Eyes, Sarah, Torah

Skirball Hospice chaplain Rabbi Aviva Winocur Erlick wrote an amazing article for The Jewish Journal. We decided to share it.

I work as an on-call hospice chaplain, and I am often paged following the death of a patient. I was called recently to support a rather large group who had just witnessed the death of a woman in her 90s, whom I’ll call Bea.

Bea had been not just a mother, a grandmother and a great-grandmother to family members, but a surrogate grandmother to others, who came to cry with the family.

I shared a prayer written to be read following a death, which includes the phrase: “even though her life was incomplete.”

Bea’s loved ones thanked me but then shared that they disagreed with the prayer. Bea’s life had been absolutely complete. There wasn’t a thing more that she or anyone else had wished she had achieved. They even showed me a video taken the morning of her death. Bea could be seen speaking calmly from her bed, wishing blessings to all of her loved ones, by name. She was clearly at peace with her circumstances and wanted everyone to feel the same.

This week’s portion, Chayei Sara (The Life of Sara), actually begins with her death. The second sentence of the portion reads: “Sarah died in … Canaan; Abraham began to eulogize for her, and to weep for her” (Genesis 23:2).

Commentators often take time this week to eulogize Sara, too. As it says in the Talmud, “Three days are for crying, and seven for eulogizing.” Weeping is essential, but eulogizing, telling the story of a person’s life, must not be put off too long. It is essential to the grieving process to experience both our sadness at the loss, and our faith that the life lived was good, worthy of recollection, an inspiration going forward.

The first sentence of the parasha seems to teach this point. To translate literally, it says: “And the life of Sara was the 100 years and 20 years and 7 years of Sara’s life” (Genesis 3:1).

Why the odd repetitiveness? Rashi, a medieval commentator, writes that it is because all of Sara’s years were equally good. The Sfat Emet, a Chasidic teacher, adds that this doesn’t just mean that no days were especially bad. For a righteous person, no day is any less spectacular than the most amazing day of one’s life. Every year, every day for Sara, was fantastic!

So how do we square this with what we know about Sara’s life: the pain of famine; the disgrace of having to bed local kings to save her husband’s life; the frustration of waiting into her 90s to birth Isaac; and the humiliation of growing to despise, and eventually evict, her servant Hagar and her husband’s first son, Ishmael, from their camp?

Apparently, despite all these hardships, Sara was also consistently happy. According to Jewish teachings, happiness is not the result of good news or pleasant circumstances. It is a matter of perspective. “Aizeh hu ashir? Hasameach b’chelko,” it says in the Mishna: Who is rich? The one that is happy with his lot.” Similarly, the Psalmist writes, “Mi haish hechafetz chayim? Ohev yamim lirot tov.” Who among you loves life? The one who wants to see good all his days.

Sara lived every day as a good day not because good things happened, but because she wanted to see them this way. She chose to be satisfied, to find reason for gratitude — as Bea did even on her deathbed. It is a mental exercise that these women model for us all, both on the physical and spiritual planes.

Being “happy with our lot” usually brings to mind the idea of being aware of, and satisfied with, our circumstances. If we choose to, we can find opportunities to appreciate, rather than take for granted or be chronically discontent. Call it an “attitude of gratitude,” a mindfulness practice or a legacy in the making.

Beyond this is the question of calling. Our “lot” or “portion” could just as easily mean our truest work, our destiny. God speaks to our hearts, and if we listen, we can live God’s work through our own. Sara served as half of the partnership that founded our religion, helping her husband Abraham to teach the word of the One God. According to Rashi, when Genesis says the couple traveled with the “souls they had made,” it meant the people who had been won over to the faith that was yet to be named Judaism. Sara was a Teacher of Israel.

May we all learn to live the life of the righteous taught by Sara and by Bea. When we pass away, may there be many who gather to weep, eulogize and dedicate their lives to what we taught, just by how we chose to live.

Shabbat Shalom.



The Skirball Hospice is a program within the Los Angeles Jewish Home's continuum of care.

Labels: Chaplain, Chayei Sara, Complete, Cross Post, Death, For the Spirit, Hospice Care, Jewish Journal, Life, Rabbi Aviva Winocur Erlick, Share, Skirball Hospice, Staff, Torah

The act of becoming a bar mitzvah, a public acknowledgment of a young man’s obligation to fulfill the commandments, is a traditional part of Judaism. In today’s society, the spiritual commitment of young women is often celebrated as well. For most of the Jewish Home’s female residents, becoming a bat mitzvah was unheard of when they were twelve or thirteen.

This was true for Jewish Home resident Marilyn Matty. As a young girl, she and her sister attended Sunday school, but not Hebrew school. As a married woman, she learned to keep a kosher home. Marilyn became involved in a Conservative synagogue and, as a pianist, worked with the choir. As life brought its share of challenges, her connection with Judaism was loosened. One day, about three years ago, she realized she wanted to go back to her community and began attending synagogue again. “That was the beginning of my feelings of getting back to Judaism,” Marilyn recalls.
After moving to the Jewish Home in February 2010, the feeling became even stronger, leading her to become a bat mitzvah on November 5, 2011, at age 85. View photos of Marilyn here.

Rabbi Anthony Elman, the Jewish Home’s Director of Spiritual Life, worked closely with Marilyn for 1 ½ years in preparation for her bat mitzvah. He regards this as a valuable part of the overall work of the Home’s rabbis in enhancing the spiritual life of residents and of the Home itself. “We try to respond to the desire of individual residents to develop further in their spiritual tradition,” said Rabbi Elman. “We also provide learning opportunities to a range of resident groups and meaningful prayer services. Our goal is to create a climate for the whole community where the spiritual dimension of life is valued and respected.” In Rabbi Elman’s view, the Home’s rabbis are here not just to allow observant Jews to continue their religious practice, but to give an opportunity for all residents to live spiritually rich lives.

When he addressed Marilyn after she had read from the Torah, he said: “You, Marilyn, are truly worthy of being called to the Torah as bat mitzvah. You achieved the necessary learning and read from the Torah beautifully. Kol hakavod for that – all honor to you. But becoming a bat mitzvah is much more than learning and reading. In my eyes, it is who you are as a whole person who merits this honor today. Walking in the footsteps of our father Abraham, you exhibit the principle of chesed – loving kindness. It is a giving from the heart – not just on a whim, but in a solid, robust, long-lasting kind of way. I have been truly moved by how you have gone out of your way to help and support others, and to practice bikur cholim – visiting the sick.”

Here, in her own words, is Marilyn’s story of accomplishing this great spiritual achievement.

This week’s parsha, Lech Lecha, is the story of Abraham and Sarah. It tells the story of leaving your present home and going toward the unknown. God told Abraham to leave his land, his birthplace, and go to a place God will show him, and he will become a great nation. Abraham took his wife, Sarah, and started on a journey to a new, and unknown, life.

Leaving your familiar home to go to the unknown is scary and uncertain. Like Abraham, I believe a message from God gave me the choice to stay in my home or search for another place to live, with no guarantee of a great nation. With the able assistance and guidance of my daughter, Tina, we found the Jewish Home, Grancell Village. This was the unknown to me, a new place, new room, and new faces, and maybe not a great nation, but a lot of love. Abraham headed west to Canaan and I headed east to Reseda.

After Abraham and Sarah lived in Canaan for 10 years, we are told that Sarah was barren, she had no children. Commentators have suggested that this repetition means she physically had no children, but spiritually she had so many as she inspired so many people.

I in turn find this inspiring. I will talk later about a woman at the Home who inspired me so much, and changed my life.

Sarah decided that the best way for Abraham (and perhaps her) to start a family was for Abraham to take Sarah’s servant, Hagar, as a concubine, with Sarah’s blessing. I see this as a great act of giving, of generosity. I think it was a mitzvah from Sarah’s heart.

Like Sarah, doing something for someone else is very important to me: visiting residents who are ill, seeing new residents or seeing someone who needs company. I have made reaching out to others a part of my life at the Home, and it gives me great pleasure. But if we go back to the story of Abraham, Sarah, and Hagar, we see that there might sometimes be a downside to giving.

When Hagar became pregnant with Abraham’s child, she scorned Sarah, and this was very painful for Sarah, who perhaps had hoped that her relationship with her servant Hagar wouldn’t change.

Sarah told Abraham how badly Hagar was treating her, and he said she should do whatever she wished. Sarah was horrible to Hagar and made her life miserable.

Hagar ran away from her mistress, and, in the desert, she met a stranger in her path. Unknown to Hagar, this was an angel, a messenger from God. He asked her what she was doing and Hagar said that her mistress was unkind and she ran away. The angel of God told Hagar to return back to Sarah and that she, Hagar, would be granted many descendants, so many descendants that they would be uncountable. So Hagar returned home and had a son whom they named Ishmael – “God heard” – that is, God heard Hagar’s pain.

Why did Sarah do such a generous thing as give her servant to her husband for them to have a child? She hoped this would be like a child to Abraham and herself (so that Sarah would bring up the child), and fulfill God’s promise that Abraham would become father of a great nation. Sarah gave, but then it seems she regretted giving; she became filled with bitterness. This makes me question: can giving sometimes go too far?

A true mitzvah is one of giving unconditionally. But I also know that too much giving can deplete one’s resources. As well as giving, I’ve learned the importance of balance in my life. I personally find pleasure particularly in playing blackjack, bridge, reading, and allowing time for hair, nails and chit chat – things that are about fun rather than suffering. These allow me to go on being a person who can be with others in distress.

As we get older, we have to make choices and changes, especially when we are no longer able to be independent. It’s a big adjustment for everyone, but I believe God had pointed the way for me. The Jewish Home has given me a place and I’m finding communal living both beautiful and challenging. My choice to come to the Jewish Home’s Grancell Village was not at first an easy one, but it soon filled by heart and soul with joy. I adjusted, met a lot of people, and satisfied myself with love from the new feeling of community.

Being part of the Jewish Home community brought me back to Judaism, which had become misplaced from my life. I became aware of my hunger, so I started studying Hebrew and Torah, which led on to this exciting moment in my life.

When I first arrived at the Jewish Home, I met a woman who changed my life. She was a young 96 years and always eager to learn. We started reading the Torah weekly and asked questions of the Rabbi. Spending regular time with May Blank inspired me to fully understand and appreciate life. Like Sarah was to countless others, May was an inspiration to me. We developed a great friendship, so that at the end of her life she called me her “sister.” Memories of May will me daily and help carry me through to my Bat Mitzvah. May her soul rest in peace.

There was another woman who became important to me – a wonderful, brave person, Miriam, was part of a “learning threesome” with May and myself, and we became known as “The Three Ms.” Miriam was blind, and had lost a leg, but was active with us, learning and contributing her knowledge and wisdom, until her end.

There are so many wonderful people here at the Jewish Home, that my life is blessed with friendship and love.

I would like to thank Rabbi Elman for being my teacher and guide, helping me to take my place more fully as a Jewish woman. The story does not end here: I plan to continue studying Torah so as to learn and deepen my understanding of our beautiful Jewish heritage. I would also like to thank Rabbi Wendy for her support.

As I look out to the congregation and see my loving family, which include my devoted children and their spouses, grandchildren (and their spouses), sister, two nieces and a nephew, I feel such love for you all. Thank you all for being here with me today as witnesses – and my special gratitude to those of you who are participating in this service this morning. I am intensely proud of my family.

I know that my mother is giving me her blessing because this is the anniversary of her death. Rest in peace, Mom.

Finally, I wish to thank my entire Jewish Home family for their love, and for making this a wonderful Jewish community in which to live.

Once again, I am THIRTEEN!

Labels: Abraham, Around the Home, Bar Mitzvah, Bat Mitzvah, Bible, Elman, Feature Articles, Jewish Home, Jewish Home Residents, Judaism, Marilyn Matty, Remarkable Residents, Sarah, Staff, Thirteen, Torah

Each year, the Jewish Home holds its annual Sarnat Symposium for Geriatric Care. Social workers and caregivers from across Southern California converge on the Jewish Home to hear experts in various fields relating to senior care. In that past, the only way to obtain the valuable information our experts imparted was to attend the Symposium. This year, those who work in geriatrics can now get hold of our expert lecturers’ presentations online!

In our Resources section, you’ll find a new page: Resources for Social Workers & Geriatric Professionals. Check it out to see the presentations and handouts from the 14th annual Sarnat Symposium!

Labels: Around the Home, Caregivers, Geriatric Care, Handouts, Presentations, Resources, Sarnat Symposium, Senior Resources, Social Workers, Staff