Dear Friends,

After living in the South for five years, I am still amazed that football makes the front page of the paper year round. Unfortunately, the past few months have been depressing. The bounty scandal has been embarrassing and upsetting, and continues to ripple out well beyond New Orleans. Last week, the reasons for the NFL’s alarm about the bounty scandal resurfaced with the news of the suicide of 43-year-old Junior Seau. Seau tragically shot himself in the chest, perhaps in a last desperate moment of sanity, to preserve his brain so that it could be studied – a part of a larger outcry regarding the devastating effects of head injuries in the NFL. Incredibly, Seau became the eighth member of the 1994 Chargers, who lost Super Bowl XXIX to the 49ers, to die at a young age (for a variety of reasons).

But NFL fans got a breath of fresh air when the Tampa Bay Buccaneers used their final roster spot to pick Eric LeGrand. LeGrand will never play in the NFL. He has used a wheelchair since Oct. 29, 2010, after he was paralyzed making a tackle in an Oct. 16, 2010, Rutgers home game. LeGrand was told by doctors he’d never walk again. But he’s made remarkable progress and his determination has helped him to stand and even walk a little with assistance. He is even on track to graduate from Rutgers this fall.

LeGrand’s former coach, Greg Schiano, is now the new head coach of Tampa Bay. Schiano said in a Bucs statement this past week: “Leading up to the draft, I couldn’t help but think that this should’ve been Eric’s draft class. This small gesture is the least we could do to recognize his character, spirit, and perseverance. The way Eric lives his life epitomizes what we are looking for in Buccaneer men.” Schiano sent LeGrand his #52 jersey and helmet, knowing full well he would never use them on the field. But the coach told the young man that he still had a role to play for the team. He said, “I want to make sure Eric is a part of what we do, somehow.”

While I am not a huge fan of the values of football, Coach Schiano’s actions are a standout example of something we can all be proud of and a value that as Jews we should point to and applaud.

Shabbat Shalom!

See you in shul!

Rabbi Uri

P.S. Go Celtics!

Dear Friends,

While many flocked to Jazz Fest, this year, we took the kids to the Zurich Golf Classic. I’m not sure you can find two more opposite experiences! On the greens, everyone is hushed with each stoke and you would be out of place without khaki shorts, a polo shirt, and preferably, a sporty visor. There is a serenity in the air and lots of neatly manicured grass and trees. At the Fairgrounds, there is noise everywhere, coming at you in every direction. No two people look the same and there is commotion and constant stimulation all around. You don’t find yourself looking up or down at the scenery, but rather straight ahead, following the rush of the crowd and engaged with the music at hand.

The dance moves are a bit different too. Elyon found himself up against the ropes at the ninth hole as a drive shot bounced on and over the green and rolled quickly right at him. With good reflexes he did a split and the ball rolled right between his legs! At the Fest, I doubt you’d see too many ballet moves – more like lots of twists and grooving.

Obviously, both events are terrific and they embody two very different emotional and spiritual experiences. But perhaps what was most striking for me, was that this year, I could not go to Jazz Fest. On the Jewish calendar we are in the middle of the Sefirat HaOmer period, counting the days between the holidays of Passover and Shavuot (Today is day 27). Traditionally, much of the first 33 days is observed as a mourning period, remembering the sudden and tragic deaths of Rabbi Akiva’s thousands of students. One of the customs observed in this time is to refrain from live music concerts and dancing. This year, all seven days of Jazz Fest fell out during this period, so we chose to pass it up. (A number of years ago I actually created a “10-Year Jewish Jazz Fest Calendar” indicating which days of the festival each year fall out during a non-mourning period!)

But in choosing to pass up the Fest, we found the gift of a totally other kind of enriching experience. I am not yet a golfer. (My older colleagues keep telling me that I have to use the word “yet” in this sentence.) My brothers love the game, but I have tended to favor more team oriented sports. But, this past Sunday, I was able to appreciate the wonderful qualities of the quiet outdoors and the calming energy of being a golf spectator. It was a helpful attitude adjustment to appreciate that perhaps we don’t really miss out on life; we simply find ourselves with an opportunity to experience something else.

“There is a time for every season; a time for every experience under heaven…”

Shabbat Shalom!

See you in shul!

Rabbi Uri

Dear Friends,

Today is the fifth day of the month of Iyar. On this day, 64 years ago, the State of Israel was declared and our people had a sovereign home for the first time in nearly 2,000 years. At our home last night, during our weekly parsha study, our friend Shula Fuchs shared with everyone a copy from the front page of the Israeli newspaper from that day in 1948. She was shivering with wonderful memories and recalled in particular when her mother took her into the streets to dance. Our daughter Adi, who is three years old, was also excited about Yom Ha’atzmaut (Israel’s Independence Day) and did not want to go to sleep last. Apparently, she thought we were all wearing blue and white and celebrating because we were about to fly to Israel. (She, by the way, determined that it was OK for her to wear pink!) Somehow she got the wrong memo.

Awkwardly, in the Orthodox world, there is great debate about how to celebrate this day. The debate isn’t about streamers, fireworks, and bandstands, but rather about the religious character of the day. The central question at hand is: Who has the authority in today’s world to establish a Jewish holiday? Keep in mind that we are in the middle of the Omer period, which is traditionally a mournful time recalling the loss of Rabbi Akiva’s many students who fell victim to infighting and insults in their messianic revolt against the Romans – so, on whose authority can we establish a day of joy to override this tradition period of mourning?

I grew up in a community which appreciated Yom Ha’atzmaut as a new religious national holiday, accepting its establishment from the authority of our newly founded country and many of its Religious Zionist leaders; where live music, blue & white dress, the Hallel prayers (with a beracha!), new haircuts, and festive meals were the norm. There are other communities who do not accept this same authority and have different opinions, ranging from those who share mournful sentiments about this day to those who express a genuinely thankful tone, albeit without imbuing this moment in history with any religious meaning.

One of the great misnomers people have about the Modern Orthodox movement is that it is somehow a more “lenient” orthodoxy. This is not true. Modern Orthodoxy is unique because of the particular values it espouses in contrast to many others in the Orthodox community. One of these values is that just as we continue to be creative interpreters of text, we can also continue to be inspired interpreters of history, seeing the hand of the Divine in past events. While some are uncomfortable with these sorts of expressions, we in the Modern Orthodox world proudly declare every Shabbat (and certainly on the 5th of Iyar!), in the prayer for the State of Israel, that we are witnessing “Reishit Tzimichat Geulateinu” – “the first flowering of the redemptive age.” So I join in with others in wishing you a Chag Sameach! Put on your blue and whites!

For a concise attempt to capture some of the other core values of Modern Orthodoxy, click here. Shabbat Shalom!

See you in shul!

Rabbi Uri

Dear Friends,

This Shabbat, Jews around the world continue to suffer from Post-Traumatic Matzah Disorder. Take for example the abuse I received (lovingly) at Sasnak Farms while blackberry picking this past Sunday with other young families from the shul. As lunch time rolled around, I pulled out a box of matzah and cream cheese – enough to share with all. But, OY! – my kind gesture was met with such overwhelming groans! “Rabbi! It’s the day after Pesach! Matzah? Really?!” I was nearly ordered to put it away! But what was I to eat? After all, I hadn’t yet had time to run to the supermarket after the holiday, so my home was still chametz free.

The visceral reaction I received just at the sight of my matzah offering, reminded me of the challenges we face post-Pesach with indigestion, weight gain, and great puzzlement about the health value of our kosher traditions.

So this Shabbat, my morning derasha will feature a special guest speaker, with whom I hope to share with you some healthy practices for holy eating.

(See pic below of the kids at the farm.)

See you in shul!

- Rabbi Uri

Dear Friends,

I hope everyone is still enjoying their matzah – only 3 more days to go!

The last days of Pesach contain a variety of meaningful traditions, including plenty of wonderful synagogue time (see you in shul!), special rituals on the 7th day of Pesach (Friday) to commemorate the historical moment of crossing the Red Sea, a reading of the Song of Songs (Saturday morning), a concluding holiday meal with four cups of wine and lots of leftover matzah called a Baal Shem Tov Seudah (come one and all to our home!), as well as the Yizkor memorial prayers.

Specifically in terms of Yizkor, we share a communal moment of vulnerability – reminding us that we are a family, always more than just a social or religious collective. We join together in sorrow and joy, bound by a familial covenant of both laughter and tears.

On a personal level, Yizkor is not simply a passive oral exercise in memory and recollection. It is a moment not simply focused on the past but always also directed to the future. In Yizkor we engage in “constructive memory.” Indeed, in the act of remembering we commit ourselves to concrete actions and deeds, hoping to follow in the good footsteps of our late loved ones, or in order to bring their memory merit.

As we turn our attention to the end of this festive period and the recital of Yizkor, I invite you to pause and consider: What memories will you bring with you into synagogue this Shabbat? What constructive memories will move you and us towards greater kedusha (holiness), tzedakah (generous living/giving), and mitzvah? As your Rabbi, I would be especially honored if you took a moment to jot down your memories to share them with me… and perhaps others.

May our memories and actions redeem us all.

See you in shul! Chag Sameach!

Rabbi Uri

Dear Friends,

In the Talmud (Chagiga 6b), we are taught that there are three mitvot incumbent upon a person during the pilgrimage festival of Passover. The three mitzvot are actually defined as three different animal sacrifices with special names – the Re’iyah, the Chagiga, and the Simcha. Why the need for 3 sacrifices? And why these three in particular?

Our Rabbis teach that the Re’iyah was a sacrifice handed over to the Kohen and burned up entirely. The action of bringing a Rey’iyah was simply a statement that you showed up for the festival, hence it’s name “Re’iyah“, meaning, “being seen.” Whereas the Chagiga was a more ritual sacrifice. The animal was divided and eaten between the family bringing it and the Kohanim who offered it. Thus, in bringing the Chagiga, one did more than just show up – he/she engaged in the rituals of the day. The third sacrifice was the Simcha - literally, “the joy.” Bringing this sacrifice demonstrated that the person was going beyond the letter of the law – he/she was not just showing up and going through the motions of the service, but was committed to finding meaning and joy in the experience as well.

These three mitzvot teach us a great deal about how we engage with all Jewish rituals, and in particular, tonight, at the Pesach Seder. Are we just showing up but disengaged from the ritual process? Are we engaged in the rituals, but disconnected from its meaning? Or are we able to tap into all three levels of the mitzvah and seek out meaning and joy in the intricacies of the holiday? Sometimes, this last level requires a little effort, perhaps even asking a few questions to enlighten and enrichen the experience – what better night to wonder, “why is this night different than all other nights?!”

Chag Kasher v’Sameach and Happy Pesach to all!

See you in shul!

Rabbi Uri

Dear Friends,

We are one week away from the holiday that celebrates the incredible – nearly unimaginable moment, when a nation of slaves transformed themselves into a free people.

The Chassidic Master, Rabbi Mordechai YosefLeiner of Ishbitza, imagines that the Red Sea itself is awed by the Israelites and their ability to change. In their honor, the Sea chooses to transform its very nature from a free flowing body of water into a solid wall – standing upright with respect to allow the Children of Israel to pass right on through where it once flowed.

“Why is this night different than all other nights?”  The answer we give our children is that tonight we remember that people can change. That the impossible transformations might just be possible.

Slaves can go free. The hungry can be fed. Oppression can end. Addictions can be overcome. We can build a society where our doors are always open, where strangers are nourished, and where redemption is just around the corner.

At our Passover seders, we are planting the seeds in our children’s minds, that one day, they too can “split the sea” of today’s most difficult challenges.

Shabbat Shalom! See you in shul!

Rabbi Uri

Dear Friends,

Dahlia and I have just arrived home from a few days vacation at the Grand Canyon in celebration of our upcoming 10th Wedding Anniversary. It was a beautiful trip, and we even managed to catch a freakish blizzard that blanketed the Red Rocks of Sedona and the upper layers of the Canyon with beautiful white snow. We have returned now from being at an elevation of 7,000 feet, to our humble home at 3 feet below sea level in Metairie.

While our trip was incredibly relaxing and refreshing, our spirits were dashed when we heard about the news of the brutal terrorist attack in Toulouse, France. In addition to the cold blooded shooting of 3 paratroopers, the terrorist also opened fire outside the Ozar HaTorah School, killing Rabbi Yonatan Sandler, a 30-year-old teacher from Jerusalem; his two children Aryeh, 6, and Gavriel, 3; and 8-year-old Miriam Monstango, the daughter of the school’s principle. Several others were also wounded gravely.

Our vacation in the Grand Canyon and the news of the murders could not represent more polar opposite realities. Standing on the rim of the Canyon, we witnessed the vast openness of our world, the grandeur of our universe, the expanse of our Divine space. While in France, a murderer demonstrated the close-mindedness of his world, the smallness of his universe, and his pathetically narrow understanding of the Divine.

Our thoughts and prayers are with the grieving families this Shabbat, and we pray for a world in which all of its citizens can be humbled by the awesomeness of the created world and the incredible diversity of life and land that fills it with blessing. Shabbat Shalom.

See you in shul,

Rabbi Uri

Dear Friends,

This Shabbat we will bless the new month of Nissan, celebrating the historic month of our national birth and pretending not to notice that it’s time to start cleaning and shopping for Pesach!

As the Jewish people prepared to leave Egypt and a lifetime of slavery, they were given their first mitzvah – to establish a calendar with the month of their redemption at its head. Nissan, as it was later to be called, was our new first month and symbolized the importance of a free people taking ownership of their own time. (Today, we effectively celebrate three New Years – at Rosh Hashanah, the birthday of the world, at Pesach, the birthday of our people, and at Tu Bshvat, the birthday of the trees.)

This past week, I have watched, once again, as our brothers and sisters have tragically become slaves to time. If you live in Israel within 10 miles of Gaza, you have 15 seconds. 20 miles? Then you might have 30 seconds. At 40 miles, there is a whopping 60 seconds to find cover before the missiles land.

Entire families are sleeping together in cramped bomb shelters in the basements of their homes. Children are not going to schools. The playgrounds are empty. The terrorists are controlling our time.

As we freely stop work for this Shabbat and proclaim ownership of our own time, we pray that our brothers and sisters in Israel will know peace and can be blessed to fulfill the very first of our mitzvot, the basis of our freedom – the ability to be in control of one’s own time.

See you in shul. Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Uri