Friendships worth Having

I did actually deliver this sermon. And I didn't get booed off the bimah so...

Shabbat Toldot

Friendships Worth Having

 2011

                  When I was younger, as my parents will tell you, I would initiate our Thanksgiving meal by asking everyone at the table to say something they were thankful for. Although I don’t recall specifics, I’m sure most of us can recall the basics, and will sometimes have larger things to be thankful for during the holiday season, such as defeat over a medical condition, or a loved one reconnecting, etc.

                  However, one thing I always mentioned, and others always mentioned too, was that of the blessing of friendship. Whether it is a specific person that was there for you when you most needed it, or just a general thanks for the people who make our lives and days better, friendship and our true friends are sometimes what we are most grateful for.

                  In this week’s Torah portion, Toldot, we encounter a false friend. Isaac has settled in the Land of Gerar. Abimelech, the King of the Philistines pretends to befriend Isaac, who is dependent on the King. Isaac fears his life from the lust of others at the sight of Rebekah. Abimelech then charges his people to not harm Isaac or Rebekah. Isaac becomes wealthy in Gerar, and becomes the envy of the King. Abimelech advises Isaac “Go away from us, for you have become far too big for us.” (Gen 26:16). Isaac no longer depends on the king as he has prospered and “reaped a hundredfold” (Gen 26:12).

                  Isaac resettles and again prospers, and receives G-d’s blessing. Upon realization that Abimelech could again benefit from a friendship with Isaac, Abimelech asks of Isaac a formal friendly relationship, “We now see plainly that the L-rd has been with you… let us make a pact with you that you will not do us harm, just as we have… always dealt kindly with you and sent you away in peace.” (Gen 26:28-29).

                  Conditional friendship, I suppose would be a fitting term to apply here. I fear modernity applies this notion of friendships far more than the true Jewish view. An ancient Hassidic tale tells us of two friends who were separated by war. One visits the other in the night and is falsely accused of being a spy, and is sentenced to die. The man pleads with the king for time to return home and set his affairs in order. When the king asks the man what will be his surety to return, his friend agrees to the condition that should the first man not return, he would take his place under the sword.

                  The time passed and the sword about to descend, when the first friend reappeared to take his friend’s place. Both plead to be killed in place of the other, and upon seeing this, the king pardons them both, asking only to be a part of their true friendship (Jellinek’s Bet HaMidrash). Isn’t that the friend we want by our side?

                  Rabbi Noah Weinberg writes, “Humanity is one unit.” Our lives can change with the blink of an eye, places, times all change, but our relationships remain somewhat static. All of us have had that “aha” moment when recalling past friendships or relationships since dissolved, wondering where that person is, and getting in touch with them to find out the reason you stopped talking (if still remembered) wasn’t worth the friendship.

                  Times change. Things get more difficult and trying, or easier and happier. But our relationships really are what make those transitions bearable. True friendship is a strong bond. As humans we have an innate ability to push those bonds, whether intentionally or unintentionally. Yet the bond still is there.

                  We don’t want a friendship like Abimelech and Isaac’s. Most could recall a relationship that went sour, we want that relationship back but also don’t because we’d “give in to the other guy” or whatever. We want the relationship between the two Jews and the king. Mark Twain once wrote: “The holy passion of friendship is of so sweet and steady and loyal and enduring a nature that it will last through a whole lifetime, if not asked to lend money.”

                  The relationships we chose ought not be like that of Isaacs. Not a tool to be used, only to be discarded when they no longer serve us. Rather they should be cherished and guarded. The words of the Psalmist come alive, “Hinei mah tov um’nayim, shevet achim gam yachad. Behold how great it is when brothers and sisters dwell together.” (Ps. 115:1). That’s what we are after. That sense of unity good friends have is a gift we all can give another person, whomever, wherever, and how many we choose.

                  Life is hard. I’m a college student and starting to figure that out. But it would be a lot harder if it weren’t for my friends and family. True relationships endure. May our friendships exceed our speech, and our actions foster our hearts. Rabbi Bradley Artson writes: “True friendship is a form of hesed, love that need not be continually earned, caring that is its own justification.” May we work to share our lives through that love, hesed. And may we truly wish those around us with shalom, with peace.

Shabbat Shalom. 

Dog/ cat: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipVVjl5IOnMrNH1cTml3lQNE97Xxyeudq1UOZhP_veZ2a9rcg_CtcgZJOs9qscqqoC2U5PNtWdSbc4OFZoJS-__tXnmtUcixs_YRV33g7Z7D2rCHC9Cq52Ar62y2yAT46LtHgTNj-kienF/s400/unusual_animal_friendships_1.jpg

Friendship: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtHGKUy6Hhv2s7-VbL-6ZGFjS-hLrpNQ4k1Kco2yHCmpk1lXaRCHtBQP2FjFVsYcMUR65Qmvw0QhMqyKvARcXnSCXZNLgrQyhpsQGanbXdsSccpD0NMoYWGSxTWn-M1EpurVoNMg9hi5s-/s1600/friendship-wallpaper.jpg

Why Rabbi

Why Rabbi?


Okay. So I have actually been meaning to write this for a long time… but work and school and such have gotten in my way.


I remember when I was in religious school in Croton, New York: The spring classes were killer. I remember looking out at the trees that engulfed Temple Israel, wondering why I was stuck in a classroom learning about Moses and Babylon while my non-Jewish friends were out playing baseball and soccer.


    It wasn’t anything against my teachers, or even the material they were hoping to convey to my classmates and I. In fact I remember a lot of what they taught us, yet at the time I loathed going to services, my family never went unless there was a Bar Mitzvah or a wedding, or it was the High Holy Days. Even then I remember sitting in the sanctuary counting the pages from the Sh’ma until the Aleinu. I was chanting and saying prayers by rote, as did everyone in the classroom. I would wonder if anyone had a deeper experience to prayer. Was that really all there was?


Now here I am, five years after my Bar Mitzvah, considering joining the Rabbinate.


We moved to Prescott Arizona where the Jews are less than prominent, however rather established. My father actually initiated us going to temple, and in a few months I found myself asking my parents to try to attend synagogue on a regular basis. Soon after my father recommended I get involved with the choir, and well, the rest is history. I spent one year just singing with the group and then graduated to singing a piece as the leader in a call and response prayer, and soon began singing solos.


I recall one Kabbalat Shabbat service rather vividly; I had been singing a couple pieces solo or as a lead when Rabbi B came up to me prior to services. He was feeling a tad under the weather and I remember his words going something like “Do you remember the Reader’s Kaddish, and the V’ahavta from your Bar Mitzvah?” Of course I said yes. I remember the next words he said were “Why don’t you grab a tallis and come join me on the bimah.” And so it began…


I would occasionally come up to the bimah to help lead a prayer or two, and within a few months found myself just sitting on the bimah, helping lead almost every prayer, and enjoying it. The words of the siddur, of the prayer book seemed to come alive.


I think-. Scratch that. I know when I first heard someone suggested my joining the rabbinate I responded rather sheepishly. I was more just attempting to be polite to the elder who suggested it, rather than actually give credence to a decision I never expected I would entertain emotionally or spiritually.


I’m not even sure what had turned me off to the idea. I recall using other academic ambitions at the time as an excuse. And I also remember feeling like I was nowhere near a spiritual or academic level to become a leader of a religion that I had only just taken an interest in and had no deep connections to. Mind you, I still had just graduated high school.


As more and more of the congregants of B’rith Shalom worked to implant the idea in my head, and other rabbi’s opinions being offered, I remember one day after services, sitting down for a cup of coffee asking myself “Well, why not?”


Well, why not?


No one seems to have been able to give me enough of a reason to not go for it. One of my mentors (Rabbi Nina) has time and again reminded me of her journey to the rabbinate: “When I couldn’t get it out of my mind and my heart, I knew I had to do it.” I feel as if this explains part of my sentiment.


I love being Jewish. I truly do. So that’s probably a good thing. At least one would think it is. 


I love the culture of Judaism.


I love the community.


I love the teachings Judaism gives to us.


The history, the passion, the liturgy, it all has meaning to me. And I cherish that.


The Hebrew…. Eh not so crazy about it but I  recall one time hearing someone say loving something means doing what you hate regardless.


I think, however, the most important thing I value in my Jewish experience is the sense of compassion we are expected of. The compassion which surrounds our every act. THAT is what I love. My phone is always on to you and I am at your service, no matter how large or small or if you just need an ear to vent to. Please know I’m here for you always.


I want to repair the world, Tikkun Olam. I desire to help others. I yearn to keep a flame alive that has withered at the winds of time.


So, I will keep learning. Thinking. Contemplating. And perhaps in two years I will find myself in Rabbinical School.


I just can’t seem to get it out of my head anymore. Or my heart.


L’shalom, in peace:             


Sean E Samitt

Actions and Reactions

Another unheard sermon...

Actions and Reactions

Ki Teitzei 5771

Sean E Samitt

As I read this week’s parasha, I can’t help but remember back to 2006. Ki Teitzei was my Bar Mitzvah Torah portion, which I chanted on a rainy Saturday morning in September of that year. A young and naïve thirteen year old, standing on a bimah in Croton, New York, trying to grasp at the Torah portion with the most mitzvot, or commandments. It’s always interesting for me to look back to then, especially when this portion comes along to see what else lies in the text. Here are a few that caught my eye:

Our actions always have consequence. Lest we forget that, and any people shall be doomed. As I write this, I am actually finally home from another shift working as a pharmacy technician. My actions at work can harm someone. My actions as a friend could hurt someone. Our actions, our words, our choices, all have repercussions. This idea of personal responsibility is not unheard of, nor is it overextending the truth.

Ki Teitzei, and its seventy-four mitzvot, speaks of customs and laws ranging marriage to burial to business. One which I had the pleasure of my Rabbi (Rabbi Jennifer Jaech) in New York mentioning, was one of the wayward and rebellious son:

“If a man have a stubborn and rebellious son… then shall his father and his mother lay hold on him, and bring him out unto the elders of his city, and unto the gate of his place; and they shall say unto the elders of his city: 'This our son is stubborn and rebellious, he doth not hearken to our voice; he is a glutton, and a drunkard.’ And all the men of his city shall stone him with stones, that he die; so shalt thou put away the evil from the midst of thee; and all Israel shall hear, and fear.”

                                                                                    Duet. 21:18-21

Not awkward at all to have your Rabbi point that our on your Bar Mitzvah… But it tells us something, it reinforces honor thy father and mother. That as a child, I still will be responsible for myself, that even though I may not have responsibilities to others yet, I have one to my parents. My “job” is to learn from them. Ok, so maybe she wasn’t so far off… that quote makes us (and the rabbis) uncomfortable, so it is not a literal punishment to be carried out, but speaks to the seriousness of honoring thy father and mother, the generations before who have given you the opportunity to learn and grow from them, to influence the generations who will follow us.

The parasha goes on to say: “The fathers shall not be put to death for the children, neither shall the children be put to death for the fathers; every man shall be put to death for his own sin” (Duet. 24:16). Personal responsibility. I am to myself held accountable for my actions. No other should be punished for my wrongdoings. It’s personal accountability. A characteristic that I think we lack sometimes. Whether it be saying you’ll be there for a friend, or be at a meeting, or you’ll take on a project, our responsibilities are firm and real, and have consequence for our obligations should they not be fulfilled.

This next one was what I reflected on in 2006, and it is perhaps one of the more meaningful passages for myself in the Torah.

“When thou beatest thine olive-tree, thou shalt not go over the boughs again; it shall be for the stranger, for the fatherless, and for the widow. When thou gatherest the grapes of thy vineyard, thou shalt not glean it after thee; it shall be for the stranger, for the fatherless, and for the widow. And thou shalt remember that thou wast a bondman in the land of Egypt; therefore I command thee to do this thing” (Duet. 24:20-22).

Olive Tree

Always leave behind for those less fortunate. Our world faces many hardships and many people face dire lives. All to often we succumb to feelings of self-despair and self-pity, myself ever included. We forget the big picture. Perhaps psychologists would have us think that is somewhat healthy, and perhaps it is. However, it is more important to be able to look at the world around us and bear witness to the act of tzedakah, or justice. Righteousness.

Never take more than you need. Always leave behind for others. Whether it is material things, such as olives from your field or a good and meaningful friendship, a hand when it was needed, these are what will make you a mensch, a good person. And it is acts of kindness, g’milut chasadim, which we will be remembered by. It can be as simple as a kind word, or a smile that makes someone’s day, and they’ll remember it, and perhaps will spread it.

When I was in high school, we read a story of a man who was severely depressed, and had decided to take his own life. In a letter found by the police, he wrote: “If one person smiles to me as I walk to the bridge, I will not take my own life.” Now perhaps everyday life is not as dramatic as that instance, however, realize what a difference we can make when we are not selfish, when we don’t use our resources over for ourselves, but use ourselves to give back to others. You never know what a simple act of kindness and compassion can do for someone.

Ki Teitzei is more than a bunch of words on parchment, or seemingly harsh laws and regulations. I feel that this parasha can show us a lot, if we open our eyes and our hearts to it. Compassion. Understanding. Righteousness. We are told if there is a bird with a nest of eggs or chicks, and we desire the eggs, we are to drive the mother away (Duet 22:6), so that she must not see her young be killed, or her life ended. The portion speaks of various laws regarding the fair treatment of animals, that on Shabbat, they too must rest. Compassion. Not just for humans, but for the creatures and nature that surround us.

Our journeys in life are incredibly complex, whether in actuality or due to human nature. One thing I hope we can take away from this is returning back to the basic principle that surrounds us all, our responsibility to each other. Religious or not, we have an opportunity to impact each other’s lives so immensely. Our actions hold significance. Leave for others. Be compassionate. Be caring. Practice a simple act of kindness… you don’t know how far it may go.

            I will always be here for you. I hope you never forget that. My phone is always on and if you need anything, know I’m here. Whenever I say that, I think of this Torah portion. It isn’t saying love thy neighbor as thyself. Its message is more substantial, and subliminal: care for those around you, whether they are your best friend, your worst enemy, the stranger in your midst, or the poor or fatherless or the widow. Give those around you the respect they deserve. I know personally, I would not be here if it wasn’t for those in my life. As the parasha reminds us “And thou shalt remember that thou wast a bondman in the land of Egypt; therefore I command thee to do this thing” (Duet. 24:22).

            So take a step. Thank someone. Touch someone in a meaningful way. We all have the capacity to recall that moment of need, the time when we felt the most dark, now remember what was the light in that moment. Remember what was not barren for you to grow from.

            Our actions have consequence. However, the tone of that result is up to all of us. Compassion, understanding and responsibility: all daunting tasks, yet perhaps some of the most precious of gifts we can offer one another.

            Rabbi Hillel once described the essence of the Torah as follows: "That which is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor. That is the whole Torah; the rest is commentary. Go and study it."

Thank you, and l’shalom,

Sean E Samitt 

Scales: http://melaniekillingervowell.files.wordpress.com/2011/05/scales-of-justice-tipped.png  

Tree: http://emp.byui.edu/SATTERFIELDB/Olive%20Tree/Olive%20Tree%20Live.jpg 

Nest: http://i.istockimg.com/file_thumbview_approve/10446025/2/stock-photo-10446025-bird-and-nest-antique-animal-illustrations.jpg

On Respect

Mini Rant from August 2nd 2011

I don’t ask much. However, I expect respect. Patience is one of my highest virtues, surpassed only by respect and compassion. It never ceases to amaze me how little others can show the former, or the latter two.

I find it interesting how all too often many people show a lack of respect or even just patience to others, yet, they will complain about not having respect shown to them.


I have always tried to maintain respect and compassion to those around me, that includes a copious amount of patience on my part, which I am not afraid to offer, as I know that we all have points in our life that deserve said patience and compassion from those around us.


Lately, I have seen many relations come to a point of respect, and how all too often we overlook the simplicity and helpfulness of respect and compassion to one another.


End of my little mini-rant. Oh, and on one last point: if you say you are going to do something, take personal responsibility and get it done. Do not complain to others when things are not completed as necessary and you face more roadblocks and burdens. I am not here to do your job. I will help in any way I can, but my obligations are to mine own.


Thank you! And just remember, that little “hey how are you” can go a long way for someone. Best wishes and Shalom. Mini-rant: Over.

“Kol ha’olam kulo, gesher tsar me’od, The whole world is a very narrow bridge.

Veha’ikar lo lefached klal. The key is to not be afraid.”

Zachor (Remember) The Journeys We Take

This was a sermon I did actually deliver, at the last service that I sung at with Temple B'rith Shalom in Prescott AZ.

Zachor: Remember the Journeys We Take

 July 29 2011

Singing has always been a release for me. Whether it is here, or with the barbershop chorus I have the honor of singing with, or my high school choir, or even in the shower, singing has always been a way of renewing myself. Here at synagogue, I sing because I enjoy it, but I hope the melodies we join together in, or the reflective pieces performed by soloists or the choir offer each of us a new worship service every time. That’s what the choir, Gwen and I hope for us all.

Judaism has always faced a struggle, and time and again, we have joined together and overcame oppressive forces. The community of the Jewish people is strong, and endures through the songs we sing, through our actions, our prayers, and our compassion.

As we sing tonight, the holiday of Tisha B’Av is rapidly approaching. On the 9^th of Av (or the 8^th of August for those a little rusty with the Hebrew calendar), Jews across the globe join together in a day of mourning. We commemorate the destruction our people have endured. As we find ourselves in the three weeks of mourning preceding Tisha B’Av, traditionally “mourning” activities are practiced: sitting low on stools, not having parties or buying new clothes or shaving. And yet we still celebrate Shabbat as joyously as ever.

Our history has a lot to teach us. It is difficult to be a Jew. But, it is more important that we learn from our past. Tisha B’Av offers us a chance to say “what did we do wrong last time? Let’s try to not do that again, shall we?” Yes, it is a time to mourn, but let it also serve us as a way to grow. An opportunity to learn from mistakes is one all too often we ignore, whether intentionally or implicitly.

Our Torah portion this week even offers a reminder. These weeks of affliction bring us to the close of Bamidbar, the Book of Numbers. Our Torah portion begins “These are the journeys of the Children of Israel…” Massei lists the forty-two “detours” shall we say, the Children of Israel traveled throughout their forty years of wandering before Mrs. Moses finally asked for directions. We obviously were not ready for our own land when we were first freed from Egypt. It took us 40 some odd years to figure out a gist of what we should have been doing. “The Exodus lasted a moment, a moment enduring forever” (Mishkan T’filah p 251). Let that be a reminder to us all that we are not finished. Our work is not done here.

As we come to the close of the Book of Numbers we say: Chazack, Chazack, vnitzhazeik: Be strong, be strong, and may we be strengthened.

It may not always be easy, but our paths of righteousness and peace shall never lead us astray. Our people wandered for forty years before coming to the edge of the Promised Land, we have faced countless loss and pain throughout the ages. And yet, we survived. We are still here. Let us reflect on the meanings of the trials and tribulations, mournful, respectful, and even more grateful for the blessings we entertain every day.

Massei, in listing the forty-two journeys we took from Egypt, reminds us the journey is part of the experience. Getting there may not be half the fun all the time, but it is still what makes the experience what it is. Our journeys in the wilderness remind us the trip is half the battle, half the journey. That we can always learn from them. That they still are part of what makes us who we are.

In Psychology, the question is always “What were they thinking?” and in turn, we ask, what makes us who we are? Nature, our genetics, or nurture, the environment we grow up in. I say: both. We all have inherent traits and such, but our nurture, the household we are raised in, the experiences we have, make us to be who we are.

As I have gone through my journey, I have traveled across the country. And every mile, every day, every minute, has made me to become the person I am today. Massei does not go into elaborate detail while describing the scenic route we took. Instead it just lists locations and times, serving to remind the new generation of Israel where they have been. As I begin my new journey at Arizona State University, I have found myself thinking about my history. Of the journeys I have taken, and thinking of where I would like to go.

My travels have taken me to Prescott, to Tri-city Prep High School, where I was able to make some of the best friendships I have, ones which I hope to continue. Then I was off to Embry-Riddle, where, despite my aspirations, I was not content with my surroundings or studies. Even though I thought it was the right place, it turned out it was not. Now I find myself preparing to move to Tempe, finishing up my bachelor’s degree in Psychology- a field of study that I have always enjoyed.

My path may not have been as straight of a line as my parents or myself would have liked, but the lessons learned, the insights gained, and the stumbles remembered have made me to become the young man I am today. Without them, I wouldn’t be Sean Samitt.

On Passover, we sing Dayeinu: It would have been enough. Would have been. Meaning there is still more. Had I gone to Embry-Riddle, who would I be? Had I not gone to Tri-city, who would I be? Had I not joined the choir here, or became a barber shopper, or moved to Arizona? Would it have been enough? Possibly, but the journey is what made it all the more meaningful. I could spend days wondering why this and why that, yet, the one thing that truly matters to me, is who I am today. Who I will be tomorrow… Maybe my rationale is just that of a teenager going to college.

Life's direction sign

Maybe “wandering” isn’t the right word to refer to our 40-year trek through the desert to the Promised Land… Wandering implies “pointless” or “aimless.” But was it aimless? Maybe we were sent in circles to try and learn and grow. My hope is this. My point is this. Each of us has a journey in life. Some things we share, others are unique to ourselves. It’s not promised to be easy. It’s not a “walk in the park.” But, let us take from it what we can. Learn. Remember. Grow.

The journey may not be the greatest, we might get some curveballs thrown at us along the way, but I am a firm believer that we never have more than we can handle. That we can, and will triumph over roadblocks we hit. The odyssey of life is a hectic one, but its what makes us who we are. As the chapters of our lives come to a close and we begin new ones, may we never forget where we have been, because the pages before are what makes the pages to be all the more meaningful and interesting.

Over the past few years, it has been an honor, and a privilege to sing, to worship, to learn, and grow with the Temple B’rith Shalom family. I’d like to thank so many, but especially the members of the choir, Rabbi Berkowitz for providing such excellent leadership and guidance, and keeping me on my toes during services with “actually… I changed my mind!” And I owe all of my voice to the woman who sings behind the piano week after week, leading us in prayer through her love of music and harmony: Gwenda Krochock. Thank you Gwen.

Part of my history will always be this community. I am ever thankful for the time I have had at TBS to grow and learn with you all, in this B’rith Shalom, our covenant of peace.

May our heads and hearts lift up in song and joy together, just as this congregation does every Shabbat, as we join as the Children of Israel for our next journey, one which we pray to work for, one of peace.

Kol ha'olam kulo, gesher tsar me'od, The whole world is a very narrow bridge.

Veha'ikar lo lefached klal. The key is to not be afraid.

Todah rabbah: thank you, and Shabbat Shalom.

 Cartoon: http://ie.technion.ac.il/~dcarmel/heuristics-icaps09/index_files/mrs_moses.jpg 

Direction sign: http://listverse.files.wordpress.com/2007/10/good-luck-sign.jpg

On The Power of Words

Again an older sermonette...




The Power of Words 
April 2011

The Power of Words

I have been saying I need to write for a while, and now I finally have the time to, and by “have the time to,” I sincerely mean, I have decided to procrastinate on Calculus and Psychology homework to write.

Words. Think about how large a role they play in our lives. They are our lives. Whether it be a transmission from Air Traffic Control, a scripture, a note, or a discussion, words have an amazing aura about them, having the power to console, to soothe, to support, to commend, to love, to hate… to scold… to hurt…

This fact has puzzled me the last few weeks. Thinking of friendships past and present, relationships of all sorts, we can all recollect a time where words hurt, but hopefully, we can also recall the time words helped heal. When nothing else seemed right, someone said something, wrote something that “took the edge off” or let us breathe for a second. I love the fact that words have this power, however, I also am troubled by this strength of words.

            Unfortunately, the words we can use to mend a broken heart or water an arid soul can be used to pain that heart, to consume thought, to cause pain. The largest concern: words unleashing their power, even with no intention to do harm. In a society and world that lives and thrives on words, whether spoken, written, sung or whatever means, it is crucial for us to understand the ramifications of rhetoric and script.

            In Judaism, we are reminded that a great sin is הרע לשון Lashon Hara, literally “Evil Tongue.” To many that comes to terms of “gossip,” “slander.” I believe that as well, however, I think a crucial part is missing. What if our intent is not gossip; if our intent is debate, or constructive? Is that equivocal to slander and gossip?

            The language that we use has innate abilities, connotatively and expressively. Gossip and slander kill three people, says the Talmud, the one who gossips, the one who listens, and the one who it is about. We can all recall times when we find people are talking about us behind our backs, that sense of shame, of being overwhelmed, saddened and disheartened. Winston Churchill once said, “By swallowing evil words unsaid, no one has ever harmed his stomach.” Wise words, but if I may, Sir Churchill, how is this done?

            The simple task may be to attempt to not gossip, but my question remains, how do we deal with the unintended insult, with the affront that was inadvertent or spontaneous?

            I think this comes in part to personal responsibility. Our duty to remember that we all have different views, different upbringings, different experiences that make us who we are. Psychology speaks about the idea of “Nature versus Nurture” when exploring human development. Nature being the biological and physical attributes we all have (albeit different for each person) and nurture being our upbringing and experiences. The only qualm I have, and it is not all that uncommon, is the “versus” part. Couldn’t it be both, more so one than the other for some, or equal for others? 

Unfortunately, humans judge. We maintain our own opinion, associate our opinion of specific people and object with specific events, and sometimes, even view our position of it as the “right” thought process. Unfortunately, by having our opinions and views, we cloud our ability to see clearly, and perhaps, become complacent and inept to view the obvious due to our labeling. Or it renders us incapable of recognizing others’ opinions and views.

            I don’t know of a way to fight this, however, I do recognize it is through our actions that we are heard. Words have an amazing power. They can hurt. They can heal. They can love. They can hate. These weapons that we use are as strong and finite as they are soothing and debatable. In the Torah, Miriam gossips about her brothers, and she is punished with a plague described to be similar to leprosy. However, Moses calls out “El na, r’fa na la, I pray Thee, heal her.” Words hurt and heal. Whether it be a friend consoling you after a loss, a group joking and chiding, or a conversation about the weather, words have the ability to make a better day for us all.

           

            It can be as simple as a “Hey, How are you?” that makes the difference to someone. Compassion, in my mind, has been one of the greatest gifts we can possess. To try and make amends: to use these powerful words to help, to comfort, to heal. Not to maim, or assault, or attack. Not to gossip, or slander, but to speak truth, to speak compassion. That is the greatest deed we can engage in on a daily basis.

            A simple hey, how are you can suffice, and mean the world to someone. Often times we can see that our friendships can last lifetimes. It is our companionships that get us through the day sometimes, and it is because of that, that we survive.

On that note I’ll leave you with a few final thoughts:

Whether we talk every day, or once or twice a month, I will always be a friend to you. I will help you in any way I can. I would be nowhere without you, and my phone is always on to listen if nothing else. If you ever need anything, I’m here. J

Hinei ma tov umanaim shevet achim gam yachad- Behold how good and how pleasant, is being with friends, together.

Shalom Aleichem, Peace to you.

Thank you. And remember, it is as simple as a “Hey, how are ya?”

~

“Handle them carefully, for words have more power than atom bombs.”

 --Pearl Strachan

Photo from: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivXD6R52KYjp6mI7Kmx6L1vtxPkhY_9u9riDP3fsiqk7W7LXMYVT6ZTImc6yNhyBghSAGNM89sBA2AHGUAuBeY4QSn-uVniqLIDoChJ7v7Eq9KF0LUbrt3JiLk7JJXN5LVP2UFeI1ffC0/s1600/words1.jpg

An Oldie: On Your Journey...

I wrote this a while ago, actually a long while ago but this is a new blog for me so I figured I'd post it here as well.


On Your Journey I Will Bless You 
8 November 2010
1 Kislev 5771 




Over the past few weeks, as some of you know, I have been going through a rather interesting self-conflict. Deciding what path I should walk now, where I would like to walk, and how to get from here to there.
    As my studies at Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University kicked-off, it was clear from the second day of classes that the course I was taking was not the right one for me. My courses could not hold my attention, let alone my interest. My instructors were not what I was expecting, and the sheer level of academic challenges that existed was not what was promised, nor what was expected of a “Harvard of the Skies.” It is because of those reasons I chose to conclude my tenure at Embry-Riddle. Not only were the credits being earned untransferable, it was becoming increasingly difficult, for myself, to perform down to the level that ERAU was at.
    This is not to solely one party’s guilt. It is to my own tunnel vision as well. Often times, we set our sights on a goal, and limit our peripheral vision to focus on the crosshairs. Although this ambition often can serve us well, we sometimes limit ourselves to what we can see and do. It is important to give an appropriate balance of distance, near, and peripheral. Not only should we keep our long-term goals in mind, but also be aware of our surroundings and doings: current, and anticipated.
    Since my resignation from Embry-Riddle, I have been questioned “What do you want to do?” or “What are you going to be when you grow up?” Ah, when I grow up… unfortunately the answers we used to give in elementary school of “fireman” or “policeman” don’t really suffice my persona. “What do you enjoy?” is a much more appropriate question.
    So what do I enjoy? Flying, psychology, helping people, studying, critical thinking, writing, and my religion. Flying, well, unfortunately due to eyesight restrictions, flying professionally is not an option, however I am well on track for earning my Private Pilot’s certificate hopefully very soon. I take pride in lending an ear to those in need and aiding people in whatever ways I can. Whether it be listening to a friend going through relationship problems, helping someone out with a math problem, explaining (or re-explaining) a chemistry topic, or just lending an ear to a friend in need. I enjoy helping others. Studying- yes, I am that much of a nerd. Writing- doesn’t this little note prove that point? Just sayin’.
    Currently, my studies are on hold, until Yavapai Community College’s spring semester begins at the end of January. I will pursue the final twenty five credits needed to earn an Associate’s of Arts in Psychology, and at that point I plan to attend Arizona State University, in Tempe, Ariz. As I was looking on ASU’s website to find majors I would be interested in pursuing, Psychology stuck out. I enjoy the social sciences. I enjoy understanding what makes people tick.
    As far as long term, I am considering a path that I have spoke with some about recently. I am currently considering and contemplating becoming a Rabbi. However, I will not set my sights solely on joining the Rabbinate. That is a decision I can defer until after I graduate with a Bachelor’s degree. However, I am responsible to educate myself about it, and explore.
    Some might ask why I am considering such a path. Here’s why: I am Jewish. This has always been a sense of pride and responsibility. I enjoy and embrace my religion and it’s practices, and enjoy learning from it and studying it. I have a passion for helping people, and I enjoy it when after I sing in my synagogue, I look into the congregation, and I can see I’ve helped others’ worship service. It is heartwarming to be able to help the Hebrew School kids with their Hebrew or give a deeper meaning to congregant’s worship. I love my religion, studying, and teaching as well as being able to help others. I believe that a career in the Rabbinate may be a way for me to encompass all of these. I have a passion for them all.
    It is interesting how as I come to this point of varying paths to take in my life, a few weeks ago, the Torah portion לֶךְ-לְךָ Lech Lecha came to pass. Lech Lecha (Hebrew for “go forth”) begins in Genesis, Chapter 12. The parsha opens וַיֹּאמֶר יְהוָה אֶל-אַבְרָם, לֶךְ-לְךָ “Vayomer Adonai el Avram:  lech lecha…”


    The Eternal One said to Abram:
    “Go forth from your land,
    your birthplace,
    your father’s house,
     to the land that I will show you.
    I will make of you a great nation,
    and I will bless you;
    I will make your name great,
    and it shall be a blessing I will bless those who bless you,
    and I will pronounce doom on those who curse you;
    through you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.”
                                    Genesis 12:1-3
This passage speaks a lot of uncertainty, and yet as Genesis continues, we learn Abram complies.  The journey is not clear, and Abram is being asked to up and go, leaving every comfort and everything he had known and found to be his niche, whether true or distorted. Abram does not know where he is being led, and what that course will be, and yet he complies. We all have something to learn from this parsha. Even if the path may not be clear, if the destination is not certain, we can lean on our faith in Adonai to get us from here to there. Abram did, and it worked out pretty well for him.
    Our lives are filled with uncertainty and change. The path we walk today may not be the one we chose to follow tomorrow, however it is important to embrace the change and not run or hide from it. Our goals in life have no other advocate then ourselves, when we falter our beliefs due to fear, we only hinder ourselves. Follow the leadership and trust of Abram. Even if we don’t have an individual promise of blessing attached to our passage, we can trust that we will not be alone. It is through our friendships, families, and spirituality that we can all march on as Abram did. I would not be here if it wasn’t for the support of my family, the advice and thoughts of my friends, and the trust in The Devine. It is only by joining hands and marching together by which we will walk the path of shalom, of wholeness, of peace.
    L’man achai v’rey eye, adab’ra na: Shalom Bach. Because of my brothers and sisters and friends, please let me say: Peace to you. May the journeys in your lifetime be enlightening, meaningful, and most importantly, full of friendship and shalom. Remember the words of The Eternal, for you shall go in peace and your life shall be for blessing. Below is the Traveler’s Prayer, תפילת הדרך T’filat Haderech. I thought it would be a fitting conclusion to this note. Thank you to all of my friends and family over the past few weeks for the assistance rendered. Always know my phone is on, I will always be here for you.


L’shalom, in peace, and with thanks,
Sean E Samitt
Yochanan ben Aharon
   
                Traveler’s Prayer
    May it be Your will, Eternal One, our God and the God of our ancestors, that You lead us toward peace, emplace our footsteps towards peace, guide us toward peace, and make us reach our desired destination for life, gladness, and peace. May You rescue us from the hand of every foe, ambush, bandits and wild animals along the way, and from all manner of punishments that assemble to come to Earth. May You send blessing in our every handiwork, and grant us peace, kindness, and mercy in your eyes and in the eyes of all who see us. May You hear the sound of our supplication, because You are the God who hears prayer and supplications. Blessed are You, Eternal One, who hears prayer.