Rabbi Bruce's Reflections on Life

 Dear  Friends, I wanted to write a brief note on this important day.  It may be among  the most memorable days from my childhood. Nov. 22, 1963 we were dismissed from school when  President Kennedy was shot. I  walked home and my mom was not surprised that I was home. I  walked in right as (I think this is correct)  that Walter Cronkite said that the President was dead.   My mom  was sitting on a purple chair and was watching  our old black and white television set.  The most memorable part was that my mom was crying....It was the first of only a couple of times that I remember her crying.  The other time I remember her crying  was when a close friend was diagnosed with cancer. These things stay with us.  The  tears from Nov. 22, 1963 stay with me for a number of reasons.   Who knew that era which is referred to as Camelot, was about to end?  Although  history may record the  Kennedy administration differently, I remember the scenes of the  Presidential family playing football on  the

  Dear Friends, As we think about our Thanksgiving rituals I am indebted to a friend who suggested that at their Thanksgiving table, they will have an empty chair  to remind them of a hostage in Gaza whose family has no idea if they are alive.  As I write this there are negotiations to free some of the hostages but none of us knows how or if this will  happen at this time. In thinking about this empty chair to remind us about the hostages, I hope that none of us will become hostage to social media sites and other news reports that lead us deeper and deeper into echo chambers.  I believe that all who are reading this believe that terrorism is horrible and that the acts that occurred on Oct. 7 were tragic. I also believe that all those reading this article believe in the value of the dignity  of every human being.  None of us want innocent people to die and my fervent prayer is that civilians will not continue to pay  the price for leaders who practice terror and mistreat others. It is t

  Dear Friends, So many things happened last week that are worthy  of note. We read the weekly  portion, Chaye Sarah, which means the life of Sarah.  In this portion  we learn about Sarah's death even  though we recall her life.  As commentators discuss this portion we realize  that the celebration of her life transcends her death.  What makes having read this portion different this  year  than all other years?   We are all well aware of the tension throughout the Middle East and around the world.  How can one celebrate life in the midst of the loss of  innocent life and with  the knowledge of hostages being held and the brutality of a terrorist group?   As I  presided at a baby naming and a wedding this weekend, I was reminded of the breaking of the glass at a wedding to remember the destruction of the Temple and other tragedies in Jewish tradition.  I spoke about the need to remember that at joyful times we remember sadness but also we can't become consumed by the breaking of

 Dear Friends, As we read the story of the Akedah (the binding of Isaac) in Genesis 22, we are challenged by how to transmit our faith in a meaningful way. Abraham climbs a mountain with  his son that only he and Isaac can see.  He binds him to an altar and except for asking  his Dad where the animal for the offering is, Isaac goes along with his Dad without question. I  believe that as we think about how we pass on what is important to us to the next generation, we are all tested as to our values at one point or another.   In the world in which  we are living today as we watch events unfold in the Middle East, all of us are having our faith tested. In  Simon and Garfunkel's song, "The Boxer" they write that "people hear what they want to hear and disregard the rest."  As we wrestle with what to  say about current crisis in the Middle East, I have found that no matter what  one says or writes, someone will be hearing it the way they wish and disregard the nuance