
Los Angeles Jewish Home's Blog
Friday, October 17, 2014
Touching Lives, Leaving a Legacy
The world stands upon three pillars: Torah, divine service, and acts of loving kindness.
~Pirke Avot 1:2
At
the end of this month, the staff and residents of the Jewish Home will
bid a fond farewell to Rabbi Anthony Elman. Rabbi Elman came to the Home
as an intern in 2004. He became rabbi of Grancell Village in 2006 and
director of spiritual life for the Home in 2012. The impact Rabbi Elman
has had on everyone at the Home is truly remarkable. His intelligence,
kindness and compassion have served us well at every turn, in times of
tremendous grief and sadness, joy and laughter, and teachable moments.
Before beginning life as a spiritual leader, Rabbi Elman had three
very full careers: attorney, social worker, and psychotherapist. “Law
is about being organized and being able to write,” explains Rabbi Elman.
“Psychotherapy taught me how to listen in a way that can bring out what
really may be going on. These skills have been very helpful to me as a
rabbi.”
While there are many memorable moments Rabbi Elman will take with
him, a few really stand out. “My first High Holy Days at the Home I
gave two sermons. The first was formal and carefully prepared, given
from the bimah. The second I went into with a few notes and sat on the
front of the bimah. I talked about how God had opened Hagar’s eyes and
she saw a spring which she hadn’t seen before,” he remembers. “I used
that as an idea of how people may think they see nothing in their lives,
but, if they could just open their eyes, they might see what was always
available for them. Afterwards, a woman who was attending with her
mother, a resident, told me how much those words meant to her and how
she was trying to get her mother to be able to take advantage of what is
here. I was touched to know a sermon could actually have the
possibility of reaching people.”
Another of Rabbi Elman’s fondest memories is of working with three
ladies who lived in the Joyce Eisenberg-Keefer Medical Center (JEKMC).
Despite advanced age and medical issues, all three attended his classes
and services regularly. Together they decided they wanted to be Bat
Mitzvahed. They worked together and helped each other. “One day I was
looking for them, and there they were, in the arts and crafts room,
studying Torah together,” recalls Rabbi. One of the woman completed her
studies and celebrated her Bat Mitzvah with family and friends.
And finally, on the day of Rabbi Elman’s ordination, several of the
Home’s residents were in attendance. “As my turn came to speak, Morris
Steinberg stood up, raised his cane in the air, and exclaimed “That’s my
Rabbi!” That memory still brings a smile to Rabbi Elman’s face.
There are many programs that were created or enhanced by Rabbi. His
monthly letter reaches several hundred people, both here at the Home and
in the community. He put great thought and care into creating a Friday
Night Siddur for our residents. Rabbi was instrumental in our Seder at
the Japanese Home as part of the Jewish Home’s Centennial celebration.
“My most precious repeated event here has been the Friday night
service in JEKMC,” Rabbi Elman confides. “Usually about 40 people are
gathered together closely. As I’m talking and singing — although I’m not
a singer! — I just put all my energy into it. I believe the residents
often feel lifted by that.”
Rabbi Elman also put his special touch on Veteran’s Day and Martin
Luther King Day programs. “My goal is always to lift people to some
sense of awe and to educate. The two go hand-in-hand.” And then there
was Purim, a great day of fun and celebration…and dressing up!
As he prepares to move forward in the next chapter of his life, Rabbi
Elman summarizes his years at the Jewish Home. “This has been the
happiest time of my life. I’ve never found such joy as I have here. It’s
like everything I give comes back to me double. How I will miss the
residents and staff.”
Rabbi Elman, you will be greatly missed here at the Home. You have
touched the lives of so many with your thoughtfulness. As a spiritual
leader, you have lifted many. As a co-worker, you always went above and
beyond and were the ultimate team player. As a man, you are a mensch.
On behalf of the residents and staff of the Jewish Home, we wish you
great happiness, health and peace. You will always be a part of us.
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Rabbi Elman's Final Yom Kippur Sermon at the Los Angeles Jewish Home
It is a month till my retirement: for me a time for a great deal of reflection. I want to tell you how I got here, and what I have got from here. I want to understand why my 9-year sojourn at the Home has been so special to me - a highlight of my life - and to see if you, as well as I, can find something to learn in this story.
So many places I could
begin. Shall I tell you about the gently
Orthodox home I grew up in? How I spent a year teaching in
India between school and university, and how that perhaps – who knows? – gave
me an injection of compassion?
Or maybe how, after studying Philosophy,
Politics and Economics at Oxford University (a period in which I embraced the
rational and turned my back on religion), I entered one of those professions
beloved of Jewish parents – the law? (I hastened to add that it was not my
parents who urged me into that profession, it was my own decision based on a
belief in the importance of financial security and social respectability
(aspects of life that I soon came to realize were really my parents' values,
rather than mine.)
I think my preferred start is how
I left the law, and the successful firm I had started with a friend six years
before. The words I uttered were: If
I am going to spend my nights worrying, I would rather worry about something
more worth-while than how much money my clients make from their contracts. I didn’t at that stage have biblical or
“God-language” to understand that move, but now I would see it as a
“lech-lecha” moment, as though God were tapping me on the shoulder and saying: time
for a journey into the unknown.
My next step was to retrain and
work as a social-worker – certainly a worth-while profession, but one in which I
never really felt at home.
Along with my professional story,
I also need to add in my health story, for it was around this time that I had
my first diagnosis of – and treatment for – cancer in my eye.
Eight years after entering social
work, I was off on my journey again, this time to a holistic centre for cancer
patients, and a training in transpersonal (or spiritual) counseling. I was deeply affected by my work at the
centre, but the major spiritual lesson was in my being fired from the centre by
the medical director who felt my rivalry with him. It was a colleague, a wise healer, who helped
me trust that what appeared to be a nasty blow was in fact the right path,
and I needed to trust that path.
This became a central principle
for me, and has been a teaching of mine here at the Home: when something bad
(or apparently bad) happens, if I can trust it is right, then it will be right. This has guided me through the ups and downs
of my life.
What did happen to me after
having to leave the cancer centre was indeed for the good. I undertook a psychotherapy training and
entered a long period of private practice as a psychotherapist. Also during this period I felt a pull back to
my Jewish roots, joined a synagogue (an orthodox one, not unlike the shul of my
childhood), and eventually became president of it.
There were also, over a short
span of years, three bad experiences (ones which after the initial shock, I
could once again accept as for the good) – the return of my cancer, a divorce
not of my own choosing, and the loss of my eye.
These events took me on a new
journey, to aliyah (at the age of 60) and a new life in Jerusalem where I
immersed myself in Torah study - until the real purpose of my aliyah became
clear. (After all, if we follow a journey not by preconceived plan but by
following where we are led by God, we do not know what surprises God has in
store for us.) I met Miriyam, came to
Los Angeles with her, married her, entered an academy of Jewish learning and
found that the place God had in fact led me to was a beautiful rabbinical
training – not something I had ever intended.
I want to pause in my story a
moment to ask: Who was this Anthony who was now studying to be a rabbi? The answer, I think, is much the same
Anthony who had studied law 40 years before, though with different interests,
knowledge and skills, and with a pleasure in Torah study that hadn’t developed
when I was young.
I ask that question, because when
I came to the Home a year or two later, first as an intern, then as acting
rabbi, than as full rabbi, I believe a more profound change in me began to take
place. If there is one word that can sum
up that change, it is love.
I had certainly known love before
– I had loved, and been loved by, parents and brothers, wider family, the women
and the children in my life, dear friends…. But the person who has served the
residents of the Jewish Home over these 8 or 9 years has found a whole new, and
unexpected, part of himself – a gift from you residents and a gift from God.
I have come to realize that what
has opened up in me, particularly at some of my services and classes, is a love
for the residents that (I believe) makes space for God. I have never before known such joy as I feel
in this work, which I think of as holy work.
I learn that God’s Presence comes about within the connections of a
group praying or singing or learning together; and that there are times when I
may have a role in helping to allow this Divine Presence.
But it is not just in those holy
moments of prayer or learning that I discover something new in myself: I feel a
great love nearly all the times I am with residents.
People like to say to me that my
previous professions of law, social work and psychotherapy prepared me for this
work. In fact I believe these
professions – at least law and social work, did little to prepare me for what
has been my vocation here at the Home.
Psychotherapy more so, as that
taught me how to listen.
It is true that through our lives,
we develop new skills, new capacities, new attitudes. We do this while remaining basically the same
person as we always were.
But also in our lives we may
discover that wholly new aspects of ourselves have come to the fore that we
were never aware of before, that we had never allowed to develop, that we had
never imagined in ourselves. Because
some aspects of ourselves lie hidden, in the shadows, in potential, perhaps
waiting to be allowed to emerge, perhaps never to emerge.
This is my sense of what happened
to me here. For the love that I feel
here is unlike anything I have felt before, and the person I am leading
services or other events, or teaching classes, is a person I don’t recognize at
all from my previous life – or even from my current life outside the Home!
This way of being gives me such
joy, such a touching of the divine – and I hope allowing others to touch the
divine – that it is no wonder I speak frequently about my feeling of being
blessed and my gratitude for this opportunity to be more than I have been
before, and more than I had ever dreamed of being.
I want to ask you a question: how
often have you ruled out some new activity or study or practice or music, with
the words: that’s not me. I’m
embarrassed to admit I do that sometimes, though I am trying to let go of that
habit. I now believe that “who I am” –
“who each of us is” – is much less limited and narrow than we tend to
think. There are all sorts of
possibilities in us waiting to emerge, if only we choose not to think of ourselves
as narrowly defined, and allow ourselves to discover the hidden aspects of who
we could be.
I have never accepted that
residents, just because they are advancing in years, or have some disability,
or simply by reason of their living in an institution, are now stuck in their
progress through life. Far from it! Pages of our personal book of life remain to
be written, new chapters remain to be discovered. Rather than choose what should come next, I
invite you to be open to allowing all sorts of possibilities. We can want and plan what we know
about. But allowing is about
letting aspects of who we are emerge that we may never have dreamed about.
I am going to paraphrase two
popular figures in the Jewish story: God and Al Jolson.
First God, at the moment he
selected Abraham to have a special role in the development of God’s scheme for
humanity: Lech lecha, God said,
leave behind everything that is familiar and go to a place in yourself which
you do not yet know but I will show you.
As for Al Jolson, he virtually
ended the silent movie era and ushered in the era of the talkies, when he
called to the orchestra, on screen in "The Jazz Singer": You ain’t
heard nothing yet!
Well, you tell your families and
everyone who treats you as though you had stopped growing: You ain’t seen
nothing yet!
Good luck on your journey!
Rabbi Anthony Elman - October 2014
Thursday, October 9, 2014
EV Residents Relish Friday Morning Discussions

On Friday, September 19th, dozens of residents showed up for their weekly discussion in the library. The topic of this week’s conversation was misunderstandings. Acting as facilitator, Caryl spoke a little about how communication can be difficult for some people and can quickly turn into a misunderstanding. After giving a few examples of situations in which people have misunderstandings, Caryl opened the floor to participants. Residents started speaking up and talking about instances in which they’ve experienced misunderstandings.
Caryl suggested a few ways to avoid these challenging situations.
“Making your statements precise is an easy way to remove confusion.
Also, you can choose your words carefully, so you won’t make any
offensive assertions. Always try to remember there are consequences to
the words you speak.” Then Caryl closed on an inspirational note by
giving the residents a gentle suggestion. “Remember, we’re not perfect.
We might not always handle every situation in the best way. But we do
handle situations in the way we’re best equipped to at the time. Take
the time to learn from the misunderstandings you’ve experienced and
strive to handle these situations more tactfully in the future.”
With another discussion concluded, the residents started to bid each
other goodbye. Resident Myrtle Feenberg stopped to thank Caryl for the
enlightening conversation. She loves attending the new activity. “I look
forward to coming each week. It has a really warm and personal feeling.
So many people are willing to share stories from their pasts. I think
these casual group chats are a great way to get to know my neighbors and
friends.”
Myrtle has the right idea. Caryl’s purpose was just that, to create
an opportunity for residents to strengthen their relationships. “My
intent in establishing the Friday morning discussion group was to create
a place where residents are welcome to discuss their feelings and
experiences. During our discussions, they are free to speak, listen, and
share as much or as little as they like. It’s the perfect open forum
where residents can gain a sense of awareness through each other’s
experiences and bond as a group.”