Los Angeles Jewish Home

This afternoon I was entering the Eisenberg Campus by way of The Heart Walk when I noticed that the late autumn winds had blown leaves into the candle holders of the bronze Chanukiah sculpture in front of the Newman Building. As I was removing the leaves I couldn’t help but think that in just a few, short weeks I would be gathering with the residents each evening of the eight nights of Chanukah to kindle the candles that would shine from this exquisite piece of ritual Judaic art. As has been our tradition in years past, we will make the blessings together and sing Chanukah songs—in Hebrew, Yiddish, Ladino, and English—before the Chanukiah’s flickering lights. I will remind the residents, as I always do, that the Chanukah candles may not be used for any practical purpose but should only grace our Jewish Home with their illumination and inherent beauty. The lights will be a link for all of us, not only to the miracles of our people’s shared history in days of old, but to memories of Chanukahs celebrated in each one of our uniquely individual pasts…long ago childhood twirls of dreidels, sharing latkes or sufganiyot with our children, watching the candlelight illuminate the faces of our grandchildren and even great-grandchildren. And I, as the Rabbi of Eisenberg Village, will watch the golden glow from the bronze Chanukiah dance on the beautiful, wrinkled cheeks of our beloved Jewish Home residents and marvel at the miracle of their long and fruitful years. When most of them were children, Chanukah was not a time for expensive gifts or commercial competition. Their memories are filled with gifts of the senses: the sight of a spinning dreidel; the scent of hot oil and the taste of delicious fried Chanukah treats; and, above all, the warmth that only love of family, community, and shared heritage can bring to the dark and bitter chill of winter. These were the children that would, indeed, become members of “The Greatest Generation.”

And so, as I take these moments to prepare the bronze sculpture that will soon spring to life and light, I am already filled to overflowing with the anticipation of sharing another Chanukah with the residents I am blessed to serve at the Jewish Home. They are, indeed, a collective light to the nations of the world, shining a warm glow of inspiration to everyone who is lucky enough to bask in their glow. Just by being themselves, they stand as a miraculous symbol of their people’s tenacity and longevity. For me, being able to share the Festival of Lights with these precious souls for yet another year, is the greatest gift of all.

Rabbi Rita Hertzberg leads synagogue services and provides spiritual guidance and pastoral care and counseling for the resident community of the Jewish Homes Eisenberg Village Campus. Among her well-attended spiritual education and outreach programs are her weekly Judaism class and the popular “Get Together with Rabbi Rita.”

Labels: Candles, Chanukah, Chanukiah, Dreidel, Eisenberg Village, Family, Hanukkah, Hebrew, Hertzberg, holiday, Jewish Holiday, Judaism, Ladino, Latkes, Rabbi, Staff, Sufganiyot, Yiddish

On Tuesday evening, we start the Jewish festival of Shavuot, originally a harvest festival but now most notably z’man matan torateinu, the season of the giving of our Torah. Traditionally seen as divinely given, Torah offers a way of life for a just and spiritual society. In synagogues throughout the world on Wednesday, people stand to listen in awe to the telling of that dramatic event at Mount Sinai, when the Jewish People stood at the foot of the mountain to receive G-d’s word, in the form of the Ten Commandments – major spiritual and ethical teachings, from worshipping the one G-d, to keeping Shabbat, honoring one’s parents, and a series of don’ts like not killing and not committing adultery.

But one commandment, the final one, always seems to me to be different from the others. It is not about worship, and it is not about what we do to others. It is about what goes on in the secrecy of our thoughts and our longings: we are told not to look over our garden fence and covet our neighbor’s house or wife or anything of his.

I have come to think of this odd commandment as an absolute necessity for a happy and fulfilled life. It is about wanting what is not mine. Many people have a tendency to see other people as having great advantages, whether financially, or in brain power, or in the beauty or seeming happiness of their family. This tendency leads to what can sometimes be the two most pernicious words in the English language – “if only”! If only I had a Mercedes like his! If only my wife/husband were elegant like that.

When we long for what is not ours, we are impoverished. A famous teaching in the Ethics of the Fathers goes like this: Who is a rich person? The person who is happy with his/her lot in life. This does not mean that we should not try to improve our lives. Of course it is good to strive for excellence in our various endeavors. Of course it is proper to work to better our financial situation or to do all we can to improve our health.

But I think there is a difference between trying to improve our lives, and the moping “if only” that is based on comparison to others. The problem may lie not only in jealousy of others, but in longing for what I myself once had. Let me explain: here at the Jewish Home, the residents who successfully build new lives are those that can say: This is my life, I will make the best of it. In contrast, those whose energy goes into longing for what was, when they were independent and ran their own homes, can never quite reach the place of finding life a blessing, thanking G-d for it, and finding new friends and new activities.

That tenth Commandment can be a reminder to us all that this is our life to lead in the fullest way we can – and a reminder of the wonderful wisdom of Torah!

Chag Shavuot Sameach – Happy Shavuot.

Rabbi Anthony Elman serves as Rabbi of the Jewish 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: Covet, Elman, Envy, holiday, Jewish Holiday, Live Life to the Fullest, Richness, Shavuot, Ten Commandments, Torah, Wanting

As we celebrate Passover, it is good to ponder on what the holiday is about. Many of us remember the story: the Israelites had been enslaved in Egypt for many generations until Moses, directed and inspired by G-d, led them out to freedom. That coming out, that Exodus, marks the birth of the Jewish people. But the meaning of it has resonated around the world throughout time. In our own era, Martin Luther King, Jr. found inspiration in the story of Moses and the Exodus, as he led his people in their struggle for civil rights.

Passover is known as the season of our freedom. But why is freedom so important? Why are people across the Middle East and North Africa even at this moment struggling, and sometimes dying, for freedom? Watching the news of those struggles has led me to think more about what it means to be a free person, and part of a free people.

People held down by a dictatorship or foreign power cannot fully thrive. It is not just that they cannot choose what to do; something in the soul of a people is beaten down. Their imagination and inventiveness are squashed — they are a people without true dignity.

Is freedom simply about being able to do as one wants? (Can any of us really do everything we want?) In our Jewish story, leaving Egypt meant we did not have taskmasters telling us how to live every minute of our day. We were free from those restrictions, but that didn't mean we were free to live a worthwhile and dignified life.

That is why Passover — the season of our freedom — and Shavuot — the season of the giving of our Torah — are so closely connected. Torah gives us laws and ethical principles, so that we know that real freedom lies in how we interact in our community and our larger society. First and foremost, the Jewish people are obliged by Torah to love our neighbor as ourselves; we must not oppress the widow and the orphan; we are repeatedly told to be respectful of the stranger who lives in our society, remember what it was like when we were strangers in Egypt.

Torah reminds me that in a free society, I have a duty of care and consideration for my fellow men and women. The free society that Torah gives us is one in which we are bound together in relationship.

Ideally we do not celebrate Passover in solitude. We celebrate it in groups, in families, in communities. At the Seder, we read from the Haggada "let all who are needy come and celebrate Passover." It is together that we are able to taste the sweetness of this "season of freedom".

Rabbi Anthony Elman serves as Rabbi of the Jewish 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: Civil Rights, Community, Dignity, Egypt, Elman, For the Spirit, Freedom, holiday, Israelites, Judaism, Letter from the Rabbi, Moses, Passover, Pesach, Torah