The polling-booth line was already out the door at 6 am when I arrived to vote. Some Bethelites had arrived at 5:15 am to be able to vote and get to work or make trains on time. The rule prohibiting campaigning near the voting area meant that no one wore campaign buttons or t-shirts, so I had no idea about peoples’ voting preferences. Even as we sleepily joked about someone’s doing a coffee run, I was aware of the seriousness of our purpose. We had come to the voting booth determined both to have our say and to deal with whatever came at the end of the day. We were Americans, awake at this hideous hour, doing sacred work. The day wore on with extreme fatigue, and I, not knowing of course how the elections would turn out, nonetheless left “away messages” on my g-mail and instant message accounts that said “God bless America.” To some it may sound overly dramatic, but I am deadly serious: except for Israel, to which I have a strong attachment, I cannot imagine a country as magnificent as the United States of America. I have not always agreed with America’s leaders’ policies, the laws of the land, or my fellow citizens’ decisions on candidates or propositions, but I am truly grateful to have been born here, and I am beyond grateful that we all get a chance to have our opinions heard.
Do I wish some things were different in the US? Of course. Even as I am pleased that the vast majority of Americans elected the first Black president of the US and that Connecticut voters turned back an effort to legislate a ban on same-sex weddings following the state’s Supreme Court decision permitting them and at the same time opening the doors to young voters’ having a say in national primary elections, I am disappointed that three states chose to ban same-sex weddings on that same day. I was very distressed that some politicians derided those who disagreed with their platforms as being not “real” Americans or racists. But these are issues for another day and, as the saying goes, the perfect must not be the enemy of the good (which does not mean, by the way, that the good can’t be made better). The US is not perfect, but it is one of the best, and one of the best is a good enough start.
I'm going on record here: while I dislike her politics, values and philosophies as presented during her 2008 bid for Vice President, I dislike equally - if not more - the ugly language that's swirling around some parts of the liberal blogosphere in reaction to Sarah Palin's recent as-yet unexplained resignation as Governor of Alaska. The language is very ugly and not worthy of repetition. Too many posters/commentators sound positively obscenely delighted to rip her - and her family - apart. Change Sarah to Barack, Bibi or Hillary and you end up with hideous and repulsive racism, anti-Semitic and misogynistic swill. It's sickening to read and does nothing more than sink to the level of the spewers of filth on the extreme right wing of American political media spectrum. Last week we read about lashon hara and its consequences. In a little over a month we will observe tisha b'Av and note the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem, brought about - the rabbis teach - by...
No sooner had the weather turned decent than the local newspaper declared "Return of motorcycle season in Connecticut kickstarts old helmet law debate." And just as predictably, the online comments kickstarted the usual "evil nanny Government" responses. Here's how I responded: "You don't want to wear a helmet, jacket, whatever? Fine. But hear this: when you hit the road, your skin will be destroyed along with your limbs. Sound too dramatic? My husband and I were involved in an accident last week when a car turned left in front of us. My husband, the driver, "laid the bike down" and we - and the bike on top of us on its side - went skidding down the rode. My ankle is broken, his leg was badly broken (requiring surgery). The good news? Had we not been wearing helmets, reinforced jackets, heavy-weight pants and boots, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that we would have suffered much, much worse - trauma to our brains and internal organs, ...
O Lord, where shall I find you? Hid is Your lofty place; And where shall I not find You, Whose glory fills all space? These words from Yehuda ha-Levi, the late 11th/early 12th Century Spanish Jewish physician, poet and philosopher, inserted into the morning worship of the Reform Movement’s Gates of Repentance Machzor, sum up the essence of this morning’s Scriptural readings. We began last night’s service by reciting a formulaic prayer declaring it “permissible to pray with those who have transgressed.” Since this is a communal declaration, we must assume that we are referring to all of us – we have all transgressed. An appreciation for this communal state of spiritual defilement is essential to this morning’s Torah and Haftarah readings. We begin with the relatively dry job description of the priest’s responsibilities found in parashat Acharei Mot. At the end of the lit of his chores, we have a personnel change: From the priest’s job description, we switch to our own. We start with Aar...
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