GRATEFUL FOR BEING HERE

We were sitting in a small booth having our usual tuna fish sandwich lunch.
My wife raised her head, a look of quiet pleasure which brought an almost imperceptible trace of wetness to her eyes and said: “ It’s so nice being here.”
We had made our annual trip to a bucolic town in northwestern Massachusetts, planning to visit the wonderful Clark Art Museum and of course explore some shopping possibilities in one particular women’s clothing boutique.
But this visit was somewhat different from others. The day before, as we were cruising along the New York throughway our car suddenly careened out of control. My wife valiantly tried to bring the car back onto the highway. In a matter of a few fleeting moments, she was able to steer the vehicle toward a marshy stretch of land closed off by a fence which thankfully halted our dizzying plunge off the road. Other than a bump on the head and aching backs and necks, we were unhurt.
As we climbed out of the car we were greeted with:”Are you alright? Should we call an ambulance? We’ve called 911!”
A family of three, father, mother and daughter on the way to Williams College to launch the daughter’s college career. Moments later, another car pulled over, words of concern emerging from inside. We were grateful for the caring attention of total strangers.
Highway patrol and tow truck arrived within minutes and after an hour or so of paper work and phone calls we were back on our way to the Berkshires.
“It is nice being here!” Here is not only a quaint little diner in a charming New England town. Here is being alive, unharmed, delivered from serious mishap, even death.
We had an accident; no one was to blame-no one was injured. The car had suddenly succumbed to mechanical failure, a machine unable to function any longer.
And we are blessed with the greatest gift of all, the gift of “ being here.”
My wife and I embraced and tearfully recited together the prayer of deliverance-“Blessed are You… who graciously bestowed Your favor upon us.”

GRATEFUL FOR THE GIFT OF THE NATURAL WORLD

I am returning from a lovely Caribbean island, one that its inhabitants refer to as a paradise As a matter of fact, one of the religious groups on this island, the Rastafarians, consider the island to be the Garden of Eden.
Putting national pride aside, I have to agree that there indeed was a quality of paradise that embraced us while we were there.
We encountered not monuments of man- ruins of ancient temples, art museums, skyscrapers, opera houses or towers touching the sky. The island could only boast of a few new structures barely six or seven stories high, the ruins of an eighteenth century fort, several beautiful resorts and a few bourgeoning shopping malls. What overwhelmed us were the monuments of nature-an island carved out of the tumultuous eruptions of volcanoes, mountains lush with greenery, their tips climbing into the clouds, bay after bay beckoning the open sea to seek refuge from its vastness and find shelter in the arch of its coves and shores. From atop elevated forests, blue-green waters shimmered in the island sun, cliffs and bluffs dotted with a blinding array of colors, houses hanging along the sloping ranges of trees that encircle the land with an abundance of flowers and fruits.
Not stone, concrete or brick but banana plants as far as the eye could see, fruit bearing trees-oranges, mangoes, papaya, guava, apples, coconut, bread fruit: vegetation redolent with spices-cinnamon, mint, basil and nutmeg. And the flowers, like jewels on the diadem of its landscape –yellows and reds, purples and whites, pinks and lavenders.
This cornucopia of nature’s gifts –freely given, contains the treasures not only of nutrition, succulence and beauty, but is also the sources of medicinal miracles.
The explanation of the multi-dimensional uses of each and every component of the flora and fauna of this paradise fascinated me and filled me with a grateful awareness of how rich and generous our world is to us. Observing the banana plant for example, how it ripens each nine months, after which the trunk is cut allowing baby shoots to grow to their full height again, an unending cycle of earth’s uninterrupted gifts to those who dwell in her embrace.
On this island, twenty seven miles in length and fourteen miles wide, it seemed as if there was sufficient produce to feed many more multitudes than the one hundred and sixty inhabitants dwelling in its tiny fishing villages, its small cities and scattering of miniscule rural communities.
Not only the land but also the Atlantic on its east shore and the Caribbean on the west pour forth their bounty of sea life to the island and beyond. While snorkeling I was given the gift of underwater beauty, radiant fish of royal blue wriggling gracefully along colorful coral reefs.
The island resonated with its special sounds, the songs of its birds, the warm night air saturated with the humming of those who flit from branch to branch in an endless dance of life’s melodic miracle.

Is St. Lucia the Garden of Eden? Symbolically, perhaps. In my mind however, this island reminds me that paradise is not parochial but rather a reality that embraces the totality of the natural world. Our visit to this particular island was a pilgrimage to one shrine of nature’s magnificence, and inspired us to recite the Psalmist’s words: “ How wondrous are your works.”

GRATEFUL FOR A SHABBAT ON ST. LUCIA

To the best of my knowledge, there are no Jews in St. Lucia. My wife spotted a man wearing a large, rather ostentatious gold necklace with a Star of David embedded in the middle; but we learned later that the Magen David is the emblem of Freemasons on the island. As we were leaving our hotel one day, looking out the window I caught sight of something most peculiar; a native St. Lucian, bareheaded yet hanging from his waist were fringes at each corner with a blue thread running along each fringe. Were these “ztitzit?” Did this man wear the fringes enjoined by the Torah to each Jew? Had I stumbled upon a “landsman,”
A fellow Jew in this remote corner of the Caribbean? The opportunity to investigate slipped away as quickly as our bus moved along the road with increased speed.
Our vacation was designed to provide us with an opportunity to, in my wife’s terminology, “empty our heads!” And we succeeded.
Shabbat arrived. We ushered in the day into our hotel room privately and quietly. The next morning I recited the Shabbat prayers privately, chanting the Torah reading and Haftarah quietly from a Tanach-Bible.
While others boarded buses to make excursions into the island, we remained behind to celebrate Shabbat. We found ourselves floating on rubber rafts in the beautiful hotel swimming pool. As we aimlessly drifted in the water, my wife and I discussed the Torah reading of that Shabbat. Our “heads” were indeed emptying, as they should on the Sabbath. Our hearts however were full. Our thoughts and feelings about the Torah’s wisdom flowed over our minds. We had achieved a wonderful sense of relaxation and serenity, without synagogue or formal community prayer.
My wife returned to our deck chairs while I remained afloat on my back. I was buoyed by the calm waters of the pool, waters that rocked me gently as a baby in a crib. Aside from the feeling of utter restfulness I was struck by the more spiritual symbolism of this experience as Sabbath’s essence and core meaning. For those fleeting yet fantastic few moments I was assured of being borne by nature’s gift of water as I allowed my self to surrender to the embrace of Shabbat’s holiness. I did nothing- “You shall do no work whatever!” I simply lay on my back and felt the subtle yet real support of God’s hand in the flowing ripples of the bed of water under my body. The Shabbat took on the realization of ultimate spiritual reality as I declared to myself in unspoken words that we are all held in the gentle, loving yet firm grasp of life’s divinity and wonder.
I am utterly grateful for that moment and the recognition that the magic of Shabbat can be recognized anywhere in the glorious world created by God, a creation that we are most mindful of on the Sabbath day- “For in six days He created the heavens and the earth and on the seventh He rested.”

GRATEFUL FOR A SPECIAL SABBATH

Every Sabbath is special. Yesterday, it was not so much attendance at synagogue that transformed these moments into holy ones but rather slow, mindful walk to soul.
The day was overflowing with sunshine. As I left my apartment building, a man passed by. Smiling, he said:” The grass is so green I would love to just walk on it.”
The grass sparkled with greenness. Its fresh aliveness invited you not only to walk but also to lie upon it, perhaps even to roll upon its embracing blades of softness. I see a dog, playful and carefree, its back rubbing against the green, its front invitingly open to the sun in a clear blue sky, exposed to the chance petting of a passing stranger.
The gift of green grass-I am grateful, and the Sabbath’s sanctity filters through my mind.
I look up and catch sight of an elderly Korean woman coming down the hill. She walks unsteadily. Perhaps the slope challenges her sense of balance. She gets closer and I realize the reason for her strange gait. Swathed in a cloth tied to her back is a baby, a little Korean girl, her delicate hair held back in a tiny bun .I peer into her dark, shining eyes, eyes overwhelmed by the mystery of so much life. Her astonished eyes fill me with soft joy, another subtle sensation of the Sabbath.
My day unfolds with traditional prayers, chants and words of Torah. They are supplemented by words of communal sharing in a congregation.
Upon my return home, the sun is higher in the sky, hotter than the hours of a cooler and refreshing early morn.
I remember the preface to prayer only a few hours earlier. I am reminded of the words of a poet of gratefulness who wrote these words:
My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird-
Equal seekers of sweetness…
Let me keep my mind on what matters,
Which is my work, which is mostly standing still
and learning to be astonished.
Which is mostly rejoicing since all ingredients are here,
Which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart
And these body clothes,
A mouth with which to give shouts of joy
To the moth and the wren…
Messenger, Mary Oliver.

What is the meaning of the Sabbath? The non-work work of the day is to “Love the world” by “standing still and learning to be astonished…which is rejoicing and which is gratitude!”

A wonderful way to make every Sabbath special.

GRATEFUL FOR FASTING-CONTINUED

It is Tisha B'Av and I am in transit from upstate New York to my home in New Jersey.I confess that all I want at the moment is my daily cup of coffee-I could easily dispense with food and other drink indefinitely, but only on condition that coffee, in whatever form, would be available.
There is much time to think, to cogitate and contemplate one's feelings and sensations on a day such as this.Occasional grumbling from within emerges; a pang of hunger darts through my mind, an automatic expectation of immediate gratification ensues. I remind myself that this sensation of need will be delayed for the day. Somehow, I think away the discomfort and focus on something else. I am able to take some reassurance from the fact that my hunger and thirst are temporary at best, and in a few hours I will once again enjoy the easy access to a refrigerator and food pantry to replenish my body and restore a sense of clarity to my mind.
The thought then arises: When a starving person somewhere in Africa or Asia experiences pangs of hunger, what do they look forward to? How many hours must past before they can restore their sense of well-being by inserting a spoonful of something into their quivering mouths or by cupping their hands with some dirty water brought to parched and cracked lips? I shudder at the awareness of so many having to harden themselves in the face of such want and deprivation, with so little hope of any access to the most meager of meals.
My discomfort is genuine yet almost laughable,almost inexcusable,in the knowledge of so much need of so many .
For us, we indulge in preparation to fast and celebrate the break fast at the end of twenty four hours of deliberate self-deprivation. Our fast is symbolic,temporary, an exercise.What about the millions for whom fasting is not prepared for nor is it broken any time soon. The absence of food is chronic, persistent, a way of life. Parenthetically, the New York Times reveals today that Sudan is engaged in the surplus production of food for export while millions of its citizens starve, dependent on charity from foreign sources. I wonder what the prophets of Israel would say to that!
Therefore, I am grateful for this fast as it reminds me of my good fortune and blessing. What remains is to share this gift with others. This is our task as the fast will soon draw to an end.

GRATEFUL FOR FASTING

There are two major fast days on the Jewish calendar, that is, they are observed for a full twenty four hour period: Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, and Tisha B’Av, the ninth day of the Hebrew month of Av.
Yom Kippur is an “easier” fast-usually the weather is cool; the day is saturated with spirituality- synagogue, prayer, community and repentance. Tisha B’Av, by contrast, occurs during the summer months, the weather usually sweltering, the time of our annual vacations when our inclination is to indulge our bodies with food and drink, not deprive them.
Philosophically, the contrast of these two fast days has been insightfully defined by a Hassidic rabbi as follows: “On Yom Kippur-“ver darf essen,” who needs to eat; on Tisha B’Av, “ver ken essen,” who can eat!”
On the Day of Atonement food is unnecessary; we unfold as angelic, spiritual beings for whom the body is no longer in the center of our consciousness. On Tisha B’Av, a day of mourning commemorating Jerusalem’s destruction, how can a Jew enjoy food in the knowledge of such suffering!
To be frank, I have trouble fasting on Tisha B’Av. Aside from the inopportune time of the year, the emotional rationale seems to be drifting away-we live in a free and prosperous country, we have been blessed with renewed Jewish independence on our ancestral home of Israel, the idea of fasting seems more and more alien to many.
Nevertheless,it is, correctly, I believe, pointed out that we are faced with the moral need to remind ourselves of the wide disparity between our dreams for a better world and the reality of a world in disrepair; fasting serves that reminder. How better to personally experience the struggles not only of the Jewish people but of all people, especially the millions of children, who go to bed each night on empty bellies and with aching hearts.
Thus I am grateful for the gift of fasting, a way to help sensitize our souls to the needs of others, to bring to light our often times submerged sense of compassion, to point us in the direction of self-empowerment and away from viewing ourselves as passive and helpless victims. When we fast we become more in touch with our human gift of choice and self-determination. Fasting fosters choice, kindness and our gift of being human.
For all this we are grateful.

GRATEFUL AGAIN FOR THE LIGHT

I took a seat on the bench facing the river. It was early morning, a balmy summer day, returning to my favorite spot for study, reading and contemplation.
I looked up; my eyes were blinded by brilliant light. I wrote these few words, an expression of gratefulness for those few moments of utter wonder.

"Today the sun was dancing on the flowing waters of the Hudson,
a grid of dazzle,
sparkling yet more like blinding bursts of electrical eruption-
a momentary performance of nature’s bountiful light
brimming over the cup of life
with hope that some drops
may spill over and touch
the parched lips of life’s inevitable pain.”

GRATEFUL FOR HELPING OTHERS FEEL GRATEFUL

I MISS MY LITTLE SYNAGOGUE ON THE SHORES OF THE CHESAPEAKE BAY. BUT TODAY I AM REPLENISHED SPIRITUALLY AND EMOTIONALLY WITH WORDS OF GRATEFULNESS SHARED BY A SPECIAL STUDENT, CONGREGANT AND “TEACHER” OF THIS LOVELY SHUL.
I QUOTE HER WORDS TO SHARE THE POWER OF GRATEFULNESS AND TO SUGGEST THAT PERHAPS SO MANY OF THE CHALLENGES OF SYNAGOGUE LIFE COULD BE SUCCESSFULLY MET IF ONLY WE APPROACH THEM WITH THE GRATEFULNESS THAT RESIDES IN OUR HEARTS.
“AND SO RABBI GLAZER, IT IS OUR TURN TO BE GRATEFUL- GRATEFUL THAT YOU’VE TOUCHED OUR LIVES… MOST IMPORTANTLY, THANK YOU FOR ALLOWING US TO REGAIN OUR SENSE OF WHAT IS SO VERY SPECIAL ABOUT KOL AMI.”

THANK YOU RONA FOR YOUR GIFT OF GRATEFULNESS.

GRATEFUL FOR “STUDENT-TEACHERS "

I HAD NOT SEEN OR SPOKEN TO HIM FOR SEVERAL YEARS ;I thought about him more than occasionally; his books of photography grace my coffee table. On Shabbat, I glance at the photographs of people’s souls and gain spiritual nurturance as I celebrate the sacred day of gratefulness.
We met over lunch and almost four hours later we parted but not before it became clear to me how grateful I am for erstwhile students who are in fact my teachers. I was his rabbi; he is my teacher.
We chatted, laughed, caught up with one another's life changes, shared a wonderful meal and simply relished each other’s presence.
He left me with many gifts-a copy of his book of photographs on the moment of healing, insights about life and light, but most important of all he reminded me to remain true to my own voice. The most precious gift he gave me was the gift of myself,my spirit and soul.
In his book of visual poetry,he adds poetic words. This is what he writes:
“We are made whole …when we are receptive to the vibrant reality of another human being, when we touch and are touched lovingly.”
Thank you, Abraham, for your vibrant reality and your loving touch.