Bravo, New Jersey!

"Only rights that are deeply rooted in the traditions, history, and conscience of the people are deemed to be fundamental. Although we cannot find that a fundamental right to same-sex marriage exists in this State, the unequal dispensation of rights and benefits to committed same-sex partners can no longer be tolerated under our State Constitution.

With this State’s legislative and judicial commitment to eradicating sexual orientation discrimination as our backdrop, we now hold that denying rights and benefits to committed same-sex couples that are statutorily given to their heterosexual counterparts violates the equal protection guarantee of Article I, Paragraph 1.

To comply with this constitutional mandate, the Legislature must either amend the marriage statutes to include same-sex couples or create a parallel statutory structure, which will provide for, on equal terms, the rights and benefits enjoyed and burdens and obligations borne by married couples.

We will not presume that a separate statutory scheme, which uses a title other than marriage, contravenes equal protection principles, so long as the rights and benefits of civil marriage are made equally available to same-sex couples.

The name to be given to the statutory scheme that provides full rights and benefits to same- sex couples, whether marriage or some other term, is a matter left to the democratic process"

Weekend Report

I very rarely have an actual weekend off. Well, it sure feels like it to me. I have Friday off from the floor; but 4 hours is committed to "my old job". So there is time to work and prepare for Shabbat. Shabbat is observed at whatever level we feel like - there is usually some formal religious content for one, if not both of us. It's a good life.

But I sometimes hanker for Sunday mornings. My stroll to the Farmers Market on Melrose Place, or coffee beside the near silent strip of Santa Monica Blvd.

So I work most Sundays, so that I will maintain my required weekend shift quota.

But this weekend is different. Today I had Friday, Saturday, and Sunday off. What fun!

Friday I drove down to the middle of nowhere and visited a good friend and her kids. She moved to have the house to fill with love she needed so badly. It's awesome! The only strain is that her Mom moved in with her at the same time as the move from L.A.

I took flowers, a bottle of sweet wine, a challah, and a book about Shabbat. We talked all afternoon, played with the babies, made shabbes, ate dinner, and watched a movie on the sofa together. Quite lovely.

The rest of the weekend? A hike, a baby shower, then a movie. Late night playing with a LiteBrite together on the living room floor. Then this morning; a meeting for me, and a visit to a friend for him.

Beautiful Fall feeling morning, tho it is much warmer now.

Recent Photos

This is Momo. He has been paying me late afternoon visits to get almonds and walnuts, which we just so happen to have on hand. He is quite a brave little thing, and ventures inside if I let him, and will take the nuts from my hand. It is a lot of fun to have nature come calling in the middle of the big city.

The tradition at our community is to unroll the entire sefer, and the Rabbi then walks around the room pointing out the highlights. As you can see, the whole kahal gently holds the parchment at the top, and at the bottom. It is quite an amazing experience to see the faces of my fellow congregants as they have this kind of contact with Holiness.

The community Sukkah - which I helped build - at night. It stood in the roof-top garden, Gan Shalom. We prayed together on the first morning of the Chag, which was quite an amazing experience. Then one night there was a committee dinner meeting I attended in the sukkah, which was just wonderful. Sukkot really is one of my favorite festivals.

Joyous, joyous, joyous.

We have been enjoying very much occasional visits to one of the newer, progressive Jewish communities, as supplement for what I, in particular find missing from our experience at our home community. Too often I feel locked within a personal straight jacket. My limbs struggle with their desire to be fully utilized in the expression of spiritual joy. Simply put: I just don't know what to do with my hands.

This place allows me to move freely. To bow deeply, to shuckle intensely, and to bury my face in the sweet scent of the corner of my talit as I pour the Sh'ma from my soul. I can lain along with the davening, and can do so loudly, as is what seems to please my nefesh most.

It is quite a spiritual treasure to have found it. At a time where I have the greatest need to pray with intensity and purpose most, I have located a place where that's what everyone else is there for, too. I am not the most traditional pray-er in the room, either.

So, Saturday night was the official beginning of the Torah reading cycle that is observed by every other Jew on the planet. We finish with the death of our teacher Moshe, and get to begin again, with the creation story in all it's mystic beauty. Simhat Torah - Celebrate the Torah.

The Rabbi lead us in the evening service which felt "briskly skipped" through, vs. "laboriously dragged". The kahal was a-buzz with anticipation; kids with stuffed soft-toy Torahs of the brightest primary colors possible ran around the room without a care (Actually Dean was hit on by the most adorable little blonde three year old who could sing all kinds of Torah-themed songs!).

Then the introduction of the evening began with a powerful kavanah/pep-talk from the Rabbi - followed by a fantastic d'var from a young man whose Bar Mitzvah I happened to attend in the last year. Then with drums and tambourine and the voice of the hazzan, off we went!

Initially, as is my custom, I wanted to get the lay of the land, to check out the scene. The first hakafah really set the pace, as we were led by the giggles and pervasive excitement of the children. I cannot get over the joy of being present to such happiness. Kids and their parents and their community. I think this is where you see the true intention of a community - in how it relates with it's children.

The second hakafah was introduced by a woman who gave testimony to her being a shabbat nerd; to the delight of the kahal. One after the other, members of the community got up and gave us a couple of pearls, and then we lead off with the appropriate verses from the siddur - responding one-to-the-other; the People, to the Holiness.

We had pulled a little group together, close friends, and took the plunge together. Dancing, singing, praying, talking, laughing, watching, thinking. I think we enjoyed it on varying levels.

One friend, a greatly spiritual and devout woman, who I admire very much, leaned over to me at one point, and shouted to me above the singing and drumming. "It's good to be a Jew!" she said. Yes, very much, very good indeed.

I loved it so much I refused to leave until the night was done and we had read from the Torah, and finished the service with kaddish. I heard this week that my first cousin had died from her disease. She'd been dealing with bowel cancer this past year. I only knew because she had found me on a site that tracks people by what schools they went to, what jobs they held, what towns they were from. I hadn't seen her in well over 25 years, but we had started to correspond via e-mail, and she had shared some of her story with me. It was strangely unreal, and now it is finished. I am not sure what to do, aside from say kaddish for her.

I found the hakafah responses particularly moving, and my voice loudly chanted with the group - my soul pouring forth in utter joy. Lubricated as I was by a shot of tequila, and a slowly sipped on vodka, or two, the words all came freely, and the voice was true and real.

Anei'nu, v'yom korei'nu - Answer us when we call

Powerful redeemer;

Faithful and Devout One;

Good and Beneficent One;

Garbed in Righteousness;

Supporter of the Fallen;

Eternal Rock;

Keeper of the Covenant;

Perfect in all deeds;

Hoshi'ah Na - Save Us, Please

Ha'tz'li'khah Na - Success, Please

Adonai, answer us, when we call.

Try This for Size...

If you are always on the look out for something Jewish to read, listen to, or watch, then this post is for you. I'll try to keep the recommendations coming. This time we’ll look at a book, and three Israeli movies you might want to consider checking out.

If you are anything like most of us you have often grappled with prayer. Particularly with the High Holy Days just fresh in our memory, this might be a good time to wrap your head around it? Entering Jewish Prayer by Reuven Hammer (Schocken, 1994) is not the easiest of books to read, but he explores the “how”, “why”, “when”, “where”, and “what” of Jewish prayer in a really loving way. The author obviously has a very personal grasp of Jewish prayer, but he presents it in an inaccessible way.

Through Hammer’s explanations I was able to get a firmer grasp on the act of prayer – both solitary prayer, and as part of community. There is a real sense that if you work at this prayer “thing” it really will serve you well. It is a dense read, so pace your self. I also took notes in the margins, which helped me a ton.

Film can be an incredible mode of transportation. Through film we are able to travel beyond the present time and our current location and visit whatever time and place we choose. Israel has recently been a frequent destination for me, and you might enjoy it too. With the Rabbi in Israel this summer, and the war and all its news exposure I felt a need to connect with what the Israeli experience is, today. So I “queued” some on NetFlix™.

I really enjoy the way director Amos Gitai tells a story. He is a master of the panoramic shot, and the monologue. In Kedma (2001) we are treated firstly to a monologue given by a shell-shocked Arab man as he, his wife, and his donkey are taken prisoner by a group of Jewish fighters in the Israeli War of Independence (1947). It is funny, poignant and downright sad as we listen to him prophesy. Then, at the end of the film we hear from one of the Jewish fighters. The camera follows him as he staggers along a line of departing jeeps and trucks after the battle, revealing to us the horror that awaited so many of our European kin who went to Israel as refugees after the Shoah.

Gitai does something similar in Kippur (1999). After shocking me a tad with the graphically erotic opening sequence, Gitai jolts us into what it must have been like to be caught completely off guard as Israel was in the Yom Kippur War (1973). Here the panoramic shot is one of the chaos and disorder that was the initial days of the war. Traffic jams, revving engines, arguing motorists, and reservists stumbling about the north – having lost their unit. There is also an incredible scene where stretcher bearers contend with heavy mud while evacuating an injured soldier from the battlefield. There is a real sense of the reality of battlefield time.

My final Israeli flick is a must see. This is a sweet flick called Bonjour Monsieur Shlomi (2003). Shlomi (Oshri Cohen) is a cute Tel Aviv high school boy with a crazy family. An overbearing, works-too-hard Mother, a brother (who at first seems to be smarter, sexier, and so much cooler than Shlomi), an invalid grandfather (who I think has the best lines in the film), and a sappy Dad who has recently been kicked out by Mom. As the film goes on we learn more about the family, their tsuris, and begin to see a sweet boy begin grow into a man. I guess it is an Israeli coming of age flick.

Just like any non-English language film, you don’t have to understand Hebrew to get insight to the Israeli experience. Just be prepared to listen to how they are saying what they are saying. Hebrew is an incredibly emotive language, and film is one great way to experience it.

Crying out to G-d

I didn't see her to start with. My eyes looked beyond the cement picnic tables out across Hollywood to Long Beach, far off in the foggy distance. Then I caught her in the side of my eye, kneeling, hands locked together, fingers entwined in each other.

The noise I was importing into my head via thin black wires cut off. That's when I heard her.

She was crying her heart to G-d. Sobs welled from her very depths, and were flowing up out of her like a mighty geyser, the pleas splattering like burping hot mud on the ground in front of her. My Spanish is so rudimentary, and in honesty I knew it was none of my business to understand her, but I knew her heart was weighing like stones, piled up on her chest.

Off to one side stood a Latin guy, white sweat pants, bare-chested. Sitting with his back against the fence, facing the Hollywood sign sat a white guy in jeans, wearing a crimson baseball cap.

I instinctively wanted to stay close to her, to protect her at this vulnerable time, but knew that I had to also get away from her. I moved off to the west, following the edge of the descent, and sitting just out of ear-shot.

She continued for maybe 10 minutes, then stood up, gathered her things, and walked over to the shirtless guy in the white sweats. He took a full looking tote-type bag from her, and they walked off together down the dusty trail.

I sat there in silence. Now knowing some of how Eli the priest felt after his encounter with Hannah.

My Heart in my Hand

Sukkot is with us at the present. I have helped build a beautiful sukkah on the roof of my synagogue, and been part of planning quite a spectacular Shabbat morning worship in the sukkah, on the roof. The sukkah stands with it's back to the east, and the door invites us into the conduit of prayer to Jerusalem, and beyond.

The roof is thickly and deliberately dotted with colorful faux fruit, flowers, and twinkling tiny lights. In the center hangs a delightful chandelier, which gives the sukkah a sophisticated air. Brightly twisted and stapled paper chains gently blow in the breeze, and sing of the Fall, soon to be upon us.

The waving of the lulav, and the blessing of the etrog - in particular - are rituals that I have been able to meditate on, and of which to gain more understanding, this year. I have been taking the opportunity to stand, facing Jerusalem, offering blessings, and literally holding my heart in my hand, as I seek holiness.

The etrog - or citron - is an odd citrus fruit. Prized and delighted for is the shape, form and aesthetic is the etrog. Ours is a particularly delightful specimen, I have to say. It may not possess the "ideal" or "traditional" shape, but it is the most lovely thing. It gently falls from the stem - the Oketz - the point where is sprouted from the tree, and fills out before making a gently narrowing, to form an almost perfect Pitom.

The etrog, is seen as representing the heart of a man, the heart of a Jew. The various parts (the four species) of the lulav all represent a particular organ, with which to offer blessing. The willow the lips, the haddas the eyes, the palm spine, the spine of the human being. The Jew is asked to present the fruit to Holiness, and to make blessings in anticipation of re-commencing the annual journey of the Jewish people through the Torah, which will happen at Simhat Torah, on Friday/Saturday night (depends on how you decide to read the Luach).

"Here, Holiness, is my heart, newly examined, and purified by the acts of T'shuvah, T'filah, and Tzdekah. I stand with it in my hand, examining it again, and offering it to you. I commit it, along with the rest of my body, to your sacred purpose. May I be counted in the number of those who are called "Lovers of your Torah".

Here I Stand, All of Me Today,...

Excuse the liberty taken with the verse of Torah.

"Atem Nitzavim Hayom Kulchem Lifnei Hashem Elokeichem"

"You are standing, all of you today, before The One your God"

That is the image that holds fast in my mind's eye, of the awe of this day. That we are all standing one next to the other,with no "better" and no "worse". No "higher", nor "lower". All of us, one, just as valued as the other. Standing before the throne, the ark, the light, the unity, the love.

So I will stand - all of me, all that is me, all that will be me - and make atonement.

G'mar Chatimah Tovah.