It has been, most certainly, an emotional 24 hours since the verdict in the trial of George Zimmerman was handed down. So much has already been written and said about the verdict and what it says about our court system and what it says about our nation. As I always try to do, I have taken time to think about what to post before I write anything and I feel that I have a lot more thinking to do. But, I want to share some of my thoughts here.

It bears remembering that this jury was not asked to rule on the presence or absence of racist attitudes in this country. They were not asked to rule on whether African Americans  get fair deals in the court system. They were not asked to judge gun laws in light of  the tragic numbers of Americans killed each year  nor were they asked to judge the laws of the state of Florida regarding self-defense or any other matter.

They were asked to judge whether, according to the laws of the state of Florida, the state had proved its assertion that George Zimmerman was guilty of 2nd degree murder or manslaughter beyond a reasonable doubt. They performed their duty and I would like to believe that they did so honorably: that they truly and sincerely felt that, at the very least, the prosecution’s case left reasonable doubt.

While I, like many of us, followed the trial carefully and have our own perspectives on the tragedy,  I was not there on the night in question and I was not in the courtroom to hear the testimony in its entirety. And therefore, I  can not say without question that justice was not done last night.

But, I can certainly say that, regardless of the verdict, our country needs to confront the racist attitudes which persist and the inequalities in the court system. The statistics show over and over again that African Americans are more likely to be convicted of crimes than whites and that is a tragedy in this country. Whatever happened on that night last year in Sanford, Florida, racial profiling does take place among law enforcement and security officials in this country. Our gun laws need to be addressed  and the “stand your ground” law and others like it need to be re-evaluated.

Each of these would have been just as serious an issue had the jury found George Zimmerman guilty.  We must seek justice in this country for all.

The family of Trayvon Martin, should be in our minds tonight. They have suffered a horrendous tragedy, losing a son, who set out to buy candy at a store and was killed on the street. The tragedy of his death and the death of so many young people like him is a national shame. Whatever happened that evening, the fact that the tragedy that the Martin family has felt has been felt by so many other families in this country is a national disgrace.

In the book of Lamentations, which we will read tomorrow evening on Tisha B’av, we read: ‘bacho tevkeh balyalyah” “She, (the city of Jerusalem), cries out in the night” with no one to comfort her.

The family of Trayvon Martin and all of the others who cry need not just our comfort and our prayers but our dedication and determination to fight racism in this country and to work to perfect our system of justice. More than they need words of comfort, they need our sincere efforts to insure that all of us can walk the streets free of fear in a nation which truly seeks justice and equality for all.

I do want to share one other thought in the face of this issue. Our son, Avi, who is a student at Emory University in Atlanta, shared some important words on facebook today. I think his eloquent words deserve to be shared:

On occasion, on long walks with our dog or on long drives, I imagine situations which might arise in my work as a Rabbi and consider how I would respond. One of the situations which I envision goes like this. A man and a woman come into my office to talk about their upcoming marriage and to request that I officiate. They fulfill all of the Jewish legal requirements for a marriage and appear to be very much in love and ready to take this step in their lives. But, just before we set the date, they tell me something that they feel I should know. They tell me that they plan to have an “open marriage” in which they can engage in extra marital sexual relationships with each other’s permission and blessing.

My dilemma: Do I agree to officiate?

As I have played this scenario out in my mind, I keep coming back to the same answer: No. I would not agree to officiate at a wedding ceremony for a couple who had decided, in advance, that marriage did not mean exclusivity in sexual relationships. The entire concept of marriage within Judaism is based upon the idea of “kiddushin” sanctification, which means to set someone or something aside as unique and special. When the groom gives the bride a ring during the traditional Jewish wedding ceremony, he says; Haray at mikudeshet le, behold you are consecrated unto me as my wife. Consecrated means sanctified, set aside as holy and is defined by the exclusivity of the sexual relationship.

Since the year 1000 Ashkenazi Jews (later to be joined by all Jewish communities) have rejected polygamy and therefore, the kiddushin now works in both directions. That is why I prefer that the bride make a similar statement during the ceremony to the husband: Haray atah mikudash li, behold you are consecrated unto me.

Exclusivity of sexual relationships, is, of course, not the only important aspect to a marriage but it is the explicit promise made by the bride and the groom and an overt, purposeful intention to not have exclusivity undermines the entire principle of marriage.

Of course, no marriage is perfect and, again, there are many more challenges to a relationship than this one. But, this is the essence of marriage: that intimacy, both physical and emotional, defines the relationship and when that promise is broken, the relationship is damaged. Going into such a relationship without this promise invalidates the kiddushin in my opinion.

So, when two Jewish men or two Jewish women walk in to my office to talk about their love, having promised each other that they will treat each other with kedusha, with holiness and sanctification, that they will love and provide for each other’s physical and emotional needs to the exclusion of all others and that they want to be married under the huppah, I will be honored to officiate at their marriage. When two people are in love and promise to love each other exclusively, physically and emotionally, they should expect no less from their Rabbi.

I believe that they should expect no less from this country.

And, the Supreme Court took a huge step in this direction on Wednesday by allowing federal benefits to same sex couples. There is much further to go but I believe it is a step in very much the right direction.

The first time I signed a marriage license for a couple, my hand was shaking as I realized what I was about to do. While my hand has stopped shaking over the years, I still realize the statement that that license is making and feel honored and priviliged that I can do this as part of my job.

I look forward to standing under the huppah with a same sex couple, and I sincerely hope that when I do, I will be able to sign a Michigan marriage license as well. I anticipate the first time that happens, my hand will shake again realizing how far we have come.

There is a tradition within Judaism that every time a couple gets married and pledges their commitment to each other, the world is improved, a piece of the “tikkun”, repair, necessary in the world is accomplished. I believe that that applies to all couples.

To me, it  is as simple as that.

I delivered this sermon at Beth Israel Congregation, Ann Arbor, Michigan on Shabbat Parashat Hukkat, June 15, 2013. It was our annual t-shirt Shabbat, a time of relaxation and informality. It is a “quirky” tradition and I thought it deserved a “quirky” but very serious sermon.

This morning, my sermon will be in the form of a eulogy. But, this eulogy is different. It is a eulogy for a fictional character. In one sense, the eulogy should have been given at the time of the character’s death in 1980. But, I wasn’t a Rabbi at the time and I doubt that I could have spoken as passionately and as emotionally then. With age comes maturity and historical perspective, and so, when the individual who portrayed this character died just a couple of weeks ago, I decided that it was my opportunity to eulogize the woman who was arguably the most universally beloved character in television situation comedy history.

         And with that in mind, let me share words this morning in memory of our beloved teacher, Edith Bunker, zichronah livracha, may her memory be for a blessing.

         The 31^st chapter of the book of Proverbs includes the section known as the Eshet Hayil, the woman of valor. While we all have known real life women of valor and while fictional television characters are not nearly as important in our lives, they still can be teachers and they merit our respect, admiration and emulation.

Eshet Hayil Mi Yimtza, “a Woman of valor, who can find?” Her worth is far above rubies. No one could argue that Edith was not a woman of strength. She put up with the constant abuse that her husband Archie heaped upon her, faced and then either tolerated or fully embraced the changes her daughter and son in law brought into her world, and fulfilled her chosen role as a housewife and a mother and grandmother with joy, enthusiasm and such love.

         Eshet Hayil continues: Batach Lev Baalah v’shalal lo echsar, The heart of her husband trusts in her and nothing shall he lack.

         Through thick and through thin, through good times and bad, Edith stood by her husband. She was uncomfortable with his bigotry but she stood by him nonetheless. She packed his lunch every day, including of course, a Twinkie, brought him his can of beer when he demanded it and made sure his white shirt was clean for work.

         But, that was only part of the story and there was so much more. When Archie was burdened with worries and concerns, she held him tight at night and stroked his hair and told him things would be all right. She often tried to sing to him but that was always a bad idea.

         And, when Gloria or Mike complained too much about Archie or spoke of him behind his back with anger or disgust, Edith pleaded with them to be a bit more patient, to be a bit more tolerant, to be a bit more compassionate and understanding.

         But, not only did others trust in her, she trusted in others and that trust was clear in so many aspects of her life as she treated everyone, as Pirke Avot instructs us to do, l’chaf z’chut, with the benefit of the doubt.

And when that trust was shattered, in two separate situations, she had the courage to confront those who disappointed her. She looked Archie in the eye when she discovered that he had been tempted to be unfaithful and uttered words which broke our hearts when we first heard them: “You were the only one I could always trust but now I can’t trust you no more”. After his eventual somewhat half hearted apology, she came back to him with love and dedication, although a bit more demanding that trust be returned.

         And, she also was a deeply religious person who found such comfort in going to church and clearly trusted in God. But, her faith was shattered when her good friend, Beverly Lasalle, was killed in a mugging, and she refused at first to go back to church. Still, she persevered asking the difficult questions, confronting the collapse of her theology and, after a struggle she returned to church, less naïve, but realizing that, like so many of us in times do in times of sadness that she was desperately in need of the spiritual support that religion and a religious community gave her.

         One of the most beautiful lines in Eshet Hayil is piha patcha bichamcha vitorat hesed al lshonah. “She opens her mouth with wisdom and her tongue is guided by kindness”. These words so beautifully describe our dear Edith.

         It goes without saying that Edith was kind. Archie called her Edith the Good and he meant it. She rarely said a bad word to anyone, opened her home to everyone regardless of race, sexual orientation, political viewpoint. She embraced every friend of Archie or the children, loved her grandson with an unlimited affection and was the epitome of fairness and justice.

         But, was she wise? Absolutely she was. You see, Edith understood people. She listened with sincerity and compassion. She never went to college but had more common sense than her graduate student son in law. In fact, one of the most brilliant scenes in the entire run of All in the Family was when Edith took Mike aside and told him that the reason Archie insulted him so often was because he was jealous of Mike. She told him that he envied the choices that Mike had in life when Archie would never be more than he was. It was a brilliant observation and the truth is that one of the underlying themes of the entire show was how much wiser Edith was than her son in law who was so busy studying for his master’s degree.

         Yes, she was prone to statements which defied common sense. Who else but Edith would suggest playing a game of twenty questions to try to figure out what famous person Archie had driven in his cab that morning and then begin the game by saying, in her characteristic voice: “Living or Dead?”

         And who else but Edith would conclude her long story about the can of cling peaches- or shall we say hmmm hmmmms- in heavy syrup-that jumped out of her carriage at the market and dented a car by saying to Archie as he sat there staring at her long convoluted story: “It was a freak accident”.

         And yet, it was Edith the good who left the note on the car with her phone number. It was “Edith the good” who offered to pay the owner of the car, Father John Majeski, for the damages. And so wise was she that two minutes after he had walked into the house, Father Majeski was confessing to Edith, a life long protestant, his deep frustration with the job he had to do every day as a priest. And Edith gave him advice. And Father Majeski listened intently.

         Edith saved a man’s life by CPR, successfully fought off a would be rapist, stood firm as the only juror to vote for acquittal of a man who was eventually exonerated of murder and, in one memorable episode, convinced Archie to perform an act of what we refer to as hesed shel emet, true sincere kindness, by having a proper funeral for his freeloading uncle who had died in the Bunker home. To top it all off, when she was bored at home, she dared to defy Archie, leave the house and embrace her volunteer work at the Sunshine Home with love and dedication.

         She appeared to be simple. Her shrill voice, off key singing and awkward gait around the house which reminded one of a servant afraid of being punished if she didn’t walk quickly enough made you think she was a nothing. But, as Gloria said very clearly after insulting her once: “Ma, I’m sorry I called you a nothing. You’re really something”.

         Some of you don’t own a TV. Some of you don’t remember All in the Family. Some of you remember it and dislike it. But, most of us who remember All in the Family, loved it. And, love it still.

         All in the Family was without a question the most influential example of American popular culture in the 1970s. And, to those who question what role Edith had to play in this, look at it this way. There were many, many American women and men in 1970, the year of the show’s debut, who were not ready either to be Gloria Stivic or to be in a marriage like Gloria and Mike’s. But, as the decade moved along, and as we all watched Edith take small but critical steps to become more of an equal partner in her marriage and to impact the world outside her home as she did inside, more and more women and men warmed up to the idea that this idea of women’s demand for equality in marriage and in the world wasn’t so bad and so dangerous after all. Many learned this from those who were passionately fighting in the public arena for more respect for women. Many learned it from the simple, daring steps that Edith Bunker took as her character changed and grew through the years thanks to the superb acting of Jean Stapleton, zichronah  livracha.

         We have all known women whom we would call eshet hayil and obviously those we know in real life are more important That goes without saying. But, turning to tv, there is, I believe, one woman who stands miles above the rest for her loyalty, her love, her generosity, her cheerful attitude, her compassion and yes, her wisdom.

         May the memory of Jean Stapleton and Edith Bunker be for a blessing and an inspiration to all of us.

I lead a study group on the Torah portion of the week on a bi-weekly  basis at Beth Israel. This morning, I had the opportunity to teach an interpretation on a text which I have been thinking about for years.

The text is found in Pirke Avot and presents the idea that a machloket, a disagreement, which is “lishem shamayim”, “for the sake of heaven” would have lasting significance while one which is not for the sake of heaven will not have lasting significance. An example of each is then given. The example of the disagreement which is not “for the sake of heaven” is that of Korach and his band while the example of the disagreement for the sake of heaven is that of Hillel and Shammai.

Korach, the main character in this morning’s Torah portion, is a Levite who, along with Datan and Aviram and 250 others complain to Moses and Aaron that they have taken power inappropriately. The entire community is holy says Korach so “why do you elevate yourselves about the community of God”? While the rebellion itself leads to many interesting questions, I want to return to the text of Pirke Avot and note, as do many of the commentaries, that it is odd that the argument is referred to as the disagreement of “Korach and his band” as opposed to Korach and his band against Moses and Aaron. This is especially noteworthy because in the other phrase, Pirke Avot notes that the example of the disagreement “for the sake of heaven” is that of Hillel and Shammai, the two Talmudic Rabbis who disagreed with each other on matters of Jewish law. So, in one part of the teaching, we have Korach and his band (listing only one of the parties of the disagreement) while in the other, we have Hillel and Shammai (giving the opposing parties). This is unsettling because mishnaic texts, such as Pirke Avot, are generally taught in very precise ways and this text is not precise because of the lack of parallelism in the language.

The dominant Rabbinic interpretation of this text is that in fact Korach and his band were constantly disagreeing with each other and in fact, while they were rebelling against Moses and Aaron, they were not unified but rather were constantly fighting with each other for their own personal gain. So, in this case, the text in Pirke Avot is in fact parallel. There is a disagreement between Korach and his band and there is disagreement between Hillel and Shammai.

But, I prefer another explanation.

I start from the perspective that Korach and his band represent only one side of the argument. They might not have been unified but their disagreement at its core was against Moses and Aaron. But, then, what about Hillel and Shammai and the lack of parallelism in the text?  I would argue that Hillel and Shammai also represent only one side of the disagreement. I would argue that Hillel and Shammai, like Korach and his band are “on the same team”. Hillel and Shammai may disagree on the specifics but they agree on the general principle that Jewish law is important, that we must seek to understand Torah and that we must seek to understand what God wants from us. They may disagree on the specifics but they are, in the long run, on the same side of the argument between those who care about Jewish tradition and those who do not.

Hillel and Shammai did not “hate” each other, they didn’t call each other names, they didn’t ignore each other. They taught what they taught and, I like to think, at the end of the day, shook hands and studied and prayed together. They were clearly approaching the “big questions” in the same way, disagreeing only about details and how to achieve the goals God set for us. The fact that both of their opinions are stated in the Talmud (and similarly opinions of other disagreeing Rabbis are stated) clearly points out that both opinions are to be respected even as one is considered the favored interpretation by later generations.

As I taught this class this morning, I referred to something I had heard many years ago. Tip O’Neill, former speaker of the house (and, by the way, my congressman when I lived in Boston), paid tribute to President Gerald Ford’s time in congress by noting that at the end of the day in congress, Democrats and Republicans would leave behind their animosity and act as friends and colleagues. But, O’Neill noted when Ford was a congressman, “there was no time clock”, in other words, he always acted colleagially even with those with whom he disagreed.

We don’t see much of that in congress today for sure and we are all less fortunate because of it. And in  our Jewish communities, we don’t see it as often as we should. Understanding that we have the same ultimate goals and are trying, each in our own way, to achieve those goals is one of the most important principles we need to remember as Jews. We are all on the same team. Let us recognize that our differences of opinion as long as they are for constructive reasons will have lasting and positive significance.

This week’s parasha contains what is, by far, my favorite narrative in the entire Torah. The story of the scouts sent out by Moses to scout out the land of Canaan is a great story in and of itself but the Rabbinic midrashim on the story turn it into a morality tale about self image, faith in God or lack thereof, optimism, courage and the willingness to stand up for what one believes. The commentaries are truly fantastic and elevate this story to one of great significance for all of us.

A few years ago, though, I noticed something a bit less serious about the parasha and decided to approach it a bit playfully from the bima. It seemed to me that this parasha gives some very good advice about how to enjoy a good family vacation. We are reading this parasha quite a bit earlier in terms of the civil calendar than we reading it that year and so the timing worked out a bit better as it was closer to summer vacation but given that most of us are always ready for a good vacation, I’ll share the idea here.

If you’re unfamiliar with the portion, you might want to read it before continuing. But, in honor of the reading of Parashat Shelach L’cha, here are the rules for a successful summer vacation:

First, the Rabbis interpret the word Shelach L’cha, “you send” scouts as implying that sending the scouts was for Moses and the people’s benefit. So, before anything else, recognize that taking trips are for your benefit: take time for them, enjoy them, delight in them.

Second, Moses tells the scouts to go up through the Negev together and they do but then the text says vayavo (in the singular), “he went to Hevron”. While the singular might be intended to imply that the scouts went as a group, the Rabbis claim that Caleb, one of the loyal scouts took a side trip to Hevron to pray at the grave of the Patriarchs and Matriarchs to be saved from the evil plans of the 10 disloyal scouts. Lesson: make a good plan but be willing to take a spontaneous side trip when the spirit moves you to do so. Being unwilling to break away from your carefully planned itinerary robs you of the opportunity to truly enjoy a significant experience.

Without going into detail concerning the midrashic source for my next teaching, suffice it to say that the Rabbis teach that God said: “I meant something to be positive and you took it as a negative”. The lesson to be drawn from this is that the occasional disruption in travel or detour can lead to great results if you keep a positive attitude and look for the good that can come out of an unexpected change in plans. When we were visiting Juneau, Alaska, one of the members of our family needed to find a bathroom. It took several minutes and a walk a couple of  blocks out of our way to handle the situation. But, if we hadn’t done so, we would have never actually entered the Alaska State Capitol building (the closest rest rooms) and if we hadn’t taken that side trip,  we would have missed one of the great coincidences in my traveling life. Coming out of the capitol building a few minutes later, we turned a corner and bumped into the only people we knew who lived in Alaska as they were just arriving back at their house. That gave us an opportunity to see old friends and they took us for a personal tour of the city which we never would have received had we not had to make that bathroom stop. Even the unexpected delays and detours can lead to fantastic opportunities if you take them as positives instead of negatives.

Next, one of the great moments of the story of the scouts is when they bring back a huge bunch of grapes to show the productivity of the land. The scene of two scouts having to share in the carrying of one bunch of grapes is so famous that it became the symbol for the Israel Ministry of Tourism. That leads to the simple lesson: Bring back souvenirs and the simpler, the better. We have a separate box in our basement for every trip we have ever taken as a family. Each one contains receipts, menus, newspapers, you name it. When winter sets in, nothing is as refreshing as reliving one of our great vacation experiences.

And finally, take  a lesson from what the scouts should have done. When you get back, don’t gather everyone you know and give them all of the details of your trip. Inevitably, someone will get mad at you. Instead, just tell them exactly what the scouts should have said and had they done so, 40 years of wandering in the desert would have been avoided. Just tell them: “We had a great time. You ought to see it for yourself”.

Happy travels!

When I began to write this blog almost two years ago, I did not envision that I would write about the past as often as I have. I have written my share of comments on current events and shared some material from classes I have taught or sermons I have delivered but I have found that more often than not, my blog has become an opportunity to share reminiscences and nostalgia about events, people and places from my past.

This posting is no exception.

In June of 1977, a few weeks after my graduation from Brandeis University and two months away from beginning Rabbinical School, I was sitting at home in Boston frustrated that I hadn’t found a job for the summer and looking desperately for something to occupy my time. Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, I received a phone call from a good friend, Debby Cantor (now Rabbi Debby Cantor) whom I knew from Brandeis. She asked me what I was doing that summer and I admitted that I wasn’t doing much. She told me to pack a suitcase and come up to Camp Ramah in New England as they desperately needed counselors.

I recall hesitating for a moment but with no other options, took her up on her offer.

I was familiar with Ramah, the camps sponsored by the Conservative Movement because my brother had been a staff member for several years, first at Ramah in England and later at Ramah in Wisconsin. I had never wanted to go to camp, either as a camper or a staff member. But,this seemed to be the right time.

I spent that first summer working as a counselor with 12 and 13 year old campers and when the summer was over, I told myself I would never do it again. It was just not my style, it was too hard, the pay wasn’t sufficient etc. etc. But, two days after I returned home from the summer, it dawned on me that I had learned more, experienced more and grown more in two months at Camp than I had in any other experience in my life and I couldn’t wait to return.

I went back to camp for 13 consecutive summers, first as a counselor, then as a Rosh Edah, a Division Head, then for my first 8 summers after ordination as an advisor, teacher, occasional camp driver, baseball umpire and whatever else was needed.  I, like most of the kids, waited an entire year just for the opportunity to spend all or part of the summer at camp.

I know that what I did at Ramah influenced a lot of kids. I’ve heard from many of them over the years and they’re grown now with careers and families of their own. I know some of my campers who became Rabbis or Jewish professionals were inspired by what we taught them at Camp. I know that the experiences at Ramah helped develop a generation of Jewish adults who are guided by sensitivity and emotion and love for Judaism.

But, whatever the kids got from what I and others gave at Ramah, I received just as much if not more.

It was at Ramah that I learned how to talk with kids, how to teach, how to find Jewish lessons in everyday experiences and how to transmit them. It was at Ramah that I learned what the word “community” really meant as all of us, staff and campers, had to learn to co-exist in an environment that required cooperation and sensitivity. It was at Ramah that I was able to reach beyond my comfort zone and paddle a canoe for the first time, sleep out in the woods, climb a mountain and do any number of other things that a city kid just never had to do.

This weekend, Ramah in New England is celebrating its 60th birthday with a reunion weekend at Camp. Sadly, I could not go because of prior commitments. But, I have spent quite a bit of time in the last few weeks thinking about my experiences at Camp. I have thought about my favorite images of Ramah: the small pine grove in the middle of the camp, the shore of the lake as the sun rose on a late summer morning, the row of trees behind the basketball court where we had Friday night services silhouetted against a blue sky as the sun began to set, the porch of building 32 where I ran staff meetings for my counselors when I was a Division Head, the quiet of the field near the campers’ bunks at night as the kids slept after a long day, and the noisy, raucous hadar ochel (dining hall) which, on Friday evening was set with white plastic tablecloths and filled with the joyous noise of singing and laughing. The places and the experiences all come back to me and they are all precious memories.

Working at Ramah was intense and tiring to say the least. It was not easy. But it was worth every bit of the effort because it prepared me for my life, professionally and personally, in ways that are too numerous to count.

And, it was a whole lot of fun.

So, I’ll take this opportunity as Ramah in New England celebrates its 60th birthday to say todah rabbah, thank you for all it has meant to me.

I will never forget those years.

When I arrived at the synagogue this morning, there was a letter waiting for me. The envelope indicated that it was “personal” for me. As I have received several letters from friends and colleagues in recognition of tonight’s celebration in honor of my 25th year as Rabbi of Beth Israel, I opened it expecting to read a letter similar to the others.

However, this letter was different.

The writer of the letter identified himself as the son of friends of my parents from Boston. I definitely recognized his name and remember the family. He wrote in the letter that his father had recently passed away and that, in the process of going through papers for his estate, he found a savings bond made out to me. He assumed it was meant to be a Bar Mitzvah gift and he wanted me to send it to me. He kindly wrote that after 45 years it probably is worth more than face value.

When I opened up the accompanying gift envelope, yellowed with age, bearing the words: “A gift for you…A Share in Freedom” in a late 1960’s style font, I found a $25 US Savings Bond dated the day before my Bar Mitzvah made out in my name “or Gertrude Dobrusin”.

My first reaction was to laugh and to marvel at the coincidence of a $25 bond arriving on the day of my 25th anniversary celebration and, in fact, 6 days before the 45th anniversary of my Bar Mitzvah. For the fun of it, I went to the US Savings Bond Website and found that it is now worth some $135 , quite a Bar Mitzvah present for one whose younger child celebrated her Bat Mitzvah more than 5 years ago.

I started to write something about this on my Facebook page. I wanted to write how the celebration of a bar mitzvah continues for many years, how sometimes good things happen to us long after they were intended and how kind it was for this man to take the time to look me up and find me after all of these years.

But, as I was writing, it hit me. Even though all of that is true, there is much more to this story.

Over the past few years, I have begun to believe much more deeply in the afterlife and especially because of one experience coinciding with another milestone in my life, to believe that those with whom we were closest in life do in fact send us signs that they are still with us. So, as I sat in my office a few hours before this wonderful event celebrating a milestone my parents would have been so proud of, I can not simply believe that this letter was a coincidence.

Before we went to sleep last night, remembering the incident before that other milestone event, I said to Ellen: “I wonder if there will be some kind of sign tomorrow to show my parents are celebrating this event with me.”

Now I know the answer to that question. And the evening will be even more of a celebration.

In Sunday’s New York Times, Ross Douthat wrote a piece about one of my favorite subjects: the consideration of the existence of life elsewhere in the universe. I have always been fascinated by this subject and, in fact, three of my favorite movies: Close Encounters of the Third Kind, E.T. and Contact all are based on this idea.

Douthat brought the subject up in connection with the news this week that scientists had discovered two planets which they feel are “promising candidates” to contain water and thus, perhaps, some form of life. As he points out, these were not the first of such planets to be identified but they have risen to the top of the list of prospective locations for life based on some criteria that I do not completely understand but am willing to accept without argument.

The columnist raised the issue to encourage us to expand our horizons and to look beyond the tragedies of the past week. Truly, one of the ways that human beings have endured difficult times or continued to have faith despite acts of unspeakable evil is to look to the heavens and realize that we are part of something bigger, allowing ourselves to imagine and to dream. We can not allow such speculation and search to divert our attention from the work we need to do to advance the causes of goodness and to seek justice and peace in our world. But, such visions of exploration and or imagination can inspire us to better things.

I was particularly interested in one specific point that Douthat raised. Writing about the theological implications of discovering life elsewhere, he alluded to the negative view: that even considering life existed elsewhere would be to doubt the uniqueness of human beings created in the “image of God” and would in some way diminish our unique standing in the eyes of our Creator.

But, he also considered the supportive view. A believer in God might hope to find life elsewhere because the idea “that the cosmos might be as empty as it is vast raises troubling questions about what, exactly, its Designer had in mind”.

This is an intriguing thought and one which was captured in very simple language in the movie Contact. “if it is just us…seems like an awful waste of space.”

I am drawn to that idea. I have no theological qualms about believing that could be “others” out there. It is  difficult to imagine why God would create such a massive universe and have only one intelligent being populating one infinitesimally small corner of one galaxy. It is somewhat arrogant to think that God would choose to share his “image” with only one creation.

While I do believe that such life exists and that we should continue the search for another form of intelligent life in the universe,  the thought that we could communicate or even just relate in any way is, in many ways, a fantasy and I say this despite how much I love those movies I referred to above. But, it is an important fantasy because it derives from  the loneliness we feel as human beings alone in the vast universe.

As our scientists search for that intelligent life, we, as human beings, God’s creations on this earth, should search for another way to feel we are not alone- and that is by seeking God’s presence in our life.

It would be a terrible waste of space if we are the only “intelligent” being created by God. But, maybe that space is not empty after all. To believe in a God whose presence fills the vastness of the universe helps us realize that we are not alone in this universe. Whatever is happening on some other planet in some other galaxy is a fascinating question to consider and to research. Maybe, we’ll discover intelligent beings out there some day and, despite my doubts, be able to communicate with them. But, one way or the other, it is also worth considering with great seriousness and equal or greater dedication the search for a relationship with our Creator who might or might not have created other intelligent beings as well.

That is most certainly not a waste of time.

The tragic, uncivilized act of terror which took place in Boston on Monday has left us all shocked, saddened and angry. And,  it should leave us determined to continue to live life as we want to live it in this country in defiance of those who wish to undermine our hope, our freedom, our optimism for the future. We grieve for those who have been killed, reach out in compassion and comfort to their families and to all of those who have been wounded. And, we are once again filled with awe and appreciation for those who have bravely and tirelessly done all that they can do to protect and to heal. May we learn from the courage and compassion shown in the last 48 hours.

So much has been written and spoken over the two days about the attack and I have found myself listening less and less to the endless news stories and reading the paper more quickly than I usually do. As the hours have gone by, one thought keeps coming to my mind and it is that thought that I want to write about. It is not about violence, terror and pain or even about the uplifting actions of the brave law enforcement and medical personnel. It is about love: the love of a city, the love of this city.

I don’t question for a moment that any city can inspire love and dedication among those who were born there or lived there. Hopefully, all of us feel a strong, inspiring connection with the place of our birth or the place we call home. But, I also believe that there are some cities which inspire a greater sense of connection: a pride, a uniqueness, a more intense sense of belonging. And, Boston is one of those cities.

If you’ve never been there, if you’ve never lived there, you might pick up some of that sense by listening to the incessant ramblings of Red Sox fans or picking up on the elitist academics who talk about the intellectual environment of the city. But, if you have lived there, and even more importantly, if you were born there, you know that it goes much deeper than that. To be a Bostonian means to believe without apology that you were truly privileged to call such a place home.

So, over the last couple of days, I’ve asked myself why we feel this way.

It is not because the city is perfect. While I was growing up, we saw more than our share of racism and bigotry in this “Athens of America”. There is poverty such as you would find in any city. On a lighter note, the accent can be maddening and the drivers can cause you to want to leave town immediately (but you wouldn’t be able to find your way since the roads are impossible to follow). Still, there is no place like Boston.

Maybe it’s the mixture of history and contemporary life. The “Freedom Trail” which features revolutionary war era graveyards and buildings winds its way through the middle of the main shopping district. Maybe it’s the beautiful views like the one from Storrow Drive coming out of town when you come out of a “s” shaped curve and find yourself for a moment looking right down the Charles River. Maybe it’s the many institutions which are the “oldest” this and the “first” that that are all over the city from the world’s oldest subway to the nation’s oldest public school (yay Boston Latin!) to the oldest ballpark still being used in the Major Leagues. Maybe it’s the way everything has to be just a little different than the rest of the civilized world- candlepin bowling, milk shakes made without ice cream to name just two. Maybe it’s because one of the greatest attractions in the city is taking a ride on the Swan Boats in the Public Gardens, the most “low tech” and least exciting ride you will take in the 21st century but one you will never forget.

Why do I love this city so deeply?

Maybe it is all of these things.

Maybe it’s one I haven’t mentioned.

But, maybe it just is because it is home.

That’s the most important reason of all.

I  wrote this posting before the tragic, horrendous events which took place at the Boston Marathon today. My thoughts and prayers go to the families of those who were killed and to all who were injured and to their families.The day of the Boston Marathon is a holiday in Boston and throughout Massachusetts and a day full of activity and celebration. What a terrible tragedy.

I know that today, April 15, is “tax day” But, in Massachusetts, today, the 3rd Monday in April is Patriots Day, celebrated as the anniversary of the battles of Concord and Lexington at the beginning of the Revolutionary War. Patriots Day is marked by two major events in the Boston area, the running of the Boston Marathon and the annual Patriots Day Red Sox game at Fenway Park which begins each year at 11 a.m. The reason for the early starting time is that back several decades ago, there was a doubleheader played on this day and the idea was that people would leave Fenway Park after the first game, walk a couple of blocks to Kenmore Square, watch the lead runners in the Marathon as they approached the finish line and then go back to the 2nd game. But everything changes over time. The marathon times keep getting faster and baseball games take longer. So no one can get out to see the marathon runners (unless the game is a rout). And yet, the 11 a.m. starting time stays. Such is the value of tradition.

When you grow up in Boston, you have to at least have a passing interest in American History and I have found that my interest in the subject has grown over the last years especially as a result of a hobby I picked up. I have always been interested in the Presidents and decided I would try to read a book about each of the Presidents and learn a lot of history in the process. I’m actually making good progress through my list although I have a long way to go.

I loved David McCullough’s biographies  John Adams and Harry Truman and found Robert Caro’s volume on LBJ’s presidency: The Passage of Power to be fascinating. I’ve read books about the alleged fraudulent election of Rutherford Hayes, the attempts to hide the illness of Grover Cleveland, the assassination of William McKinley and others. It’s been a great project and I’m glad I took it on.

But, one of the reasons why I wanted to do this is because I am fascinated by some of those men who have held the office of President who are less well known to try to understand more about these somewhat “footnote” characters in our history.

It was with this in mind that I recently read a short biography of Chester Alan Arthur, the 21st president, written by Zachary Karabell. Arthur was the surprise “compromise” choice for vice President to run with James Garfield, one of the most unexpected of all Presidential nominees in the election of 1880. The Garfield/Arthur ticket won and Arthur became President when Garfield was assassinated. He is perhaps best known for the comment made about him by one of his allies from New York who upon hearing that Arthur had become president said: “Chet Arthur, President of the United States? Good God.”

But, in his biography, Karabell presents a sympathetic and appreciative portrait of this man who never wanted to be President, was derided by friends and rivals alike, faced severe issues of loneliness and depression in the White House and battled an illness that grew worse as his presidency went along. The author notes that Arthur made significant decisions on which legislation to support and which to veto and was able to rise above the issues of party loyalty to conduct an honest administration.

I was particularly moved by the final sentences of the book. Karabell writes; “For those who want presidents to be heroes, and, failing that, villains, for those who expect them to be larger than life figures, Arthur’s tenure in office isn’t satisfying…And yet, in spite of what Shakespeare wrote, some men are neither born great, nor achieve greatness, nor have it thrust upon them. Some people just do the best they can in a difficult situation, and sometimes that turns out just fine.”

Think about that quotation. While we honor the heroes of our history as Americans, we also recognize that many many people have played their part in the story of our great nation who are not as well known. Arthur, at least, is “on a list” and his name will not be forgotten. But, there are so many others who are not on any list but who have done the best they can in a difficult situation and they deserve our praise and respect. That final quotation in Karabell’s book has stuck with me since I read it and I think will stay with me for a long time.

Happy Patriots Day!