I was going through a particularly difficult time in my life and Aryeh told me of a slip of paper he found on the ground when he was going through a very similar situation. It was just a few lines from T.S. Eliot’s poem ‘East Coker’ and, of course, it was no accident that it had appeared to him anymore than it was an accident that he shared them with me.
“I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love.
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing”.
He was always reminding me to be present, here and now, for that is where life is.
We all have our memories of the wondrous, humorous, talented, profound human being we collectively lost just days ago. Well, we didn’t loose him. He just got a whole lot harder to hug.
Now comes the rest of the story.
As Jews we all ‘shop’ synagogues. We try to find that balance of congregation, denomination, Rabbi, and distance from home.
You can have the nicest folks in the seats next to you, all the right things happening in the service, you might agree with all the positions the movement’s leaders take, but if the Rabbi isn’t a good fit, you probably won’t join.
I remember going to an interdenominational presentation of several Shuls a while back. There was the requisite out of town entertainment. There were four supporting synagogues, running the gamut from conservative to liberal.
And while I liked the folks from the other places, the folks from P’nai Or were the ones that I was drawn to. And to its amazingly charismatic Rabbi, Aryeh Hirschfield. I had perceived that there were Lesbians at P’nai Or, but I wanted to make sure that I, as an out gay man, would be welcomed and embraced.
I remember Aryeh’s replies to my early emails. He noted how there were many lesbians, and even a transperson in the congregation, but he also noted: “It has concerned me that we have had very few gay men as members, and, given how welcoming I believe we are, that’s something of an enigma to me. So please be the one to begin to reverse that trend.”
I remember being saddened by that reply. I have often been a trail blazer. It is always a lonely road. But even though there are synagogues with more gay men as members (and there is an actual LGBT group in town) my heart was and is here, at P’nai Or.
But I, like so many others, felt the community Aryeh was creating was more important than if I find a date. And that’s the rub.
Weeks before Aryeh’s passing an acquaintance told me that if something happened to our Rabbi, our synagogue would crumble around us. Implying it was a cult of personality. I brushed the thought aside at the time. The idea that our Rabbi was going anywhere seemed so remote. And the person’s words sounded more like jealousy than analysis.
But it did make me think. I knew of synagogues that were personality driven. Heck, I’d visited them.
And while I love Aryeh, I respect him even more. Though we disagreed about things. I know angels exist. He was skeptical.
To me he was my Rabbi, I attended synagogue at his Shul for a little over a year; went to some of his outreach to the other Abrahamic faiths; attended Adult Education. I saw his interplay with his wife and little boys, but I let his personal life be his own. And allowed him the comfort of his role, as teacher.
And I admit to seeing him when he wasn’t ‘on’ and he seemed like such quiet, and careful fellow. Not the entertaining guy blustering through services.
But I know he delighted in us all.
And I remember him always saying “G*d willing.”
“So we’ll all meet here again next Thursday, G*d willing.” It drove me a little nuts. As someone with my history I understand the impermanence of things. But Aryeh saying “G*d willing” bothered me. Reminded me that as much as I wanted him to, we only had today. I wanted comfort. He gave me truth.
I can also tell you, I’m the guy who brought every friend I could to services. That to one they all felt more at home, more welcomed with Aryeh and with the congregation of P’nai Or, than they ever had at any religious service in their lives. We did good.
Now we have a chance. A choice.
We can make my cynical acquaintance right. We can fly apart. We can let go of Aryeh’s dream of peace and a place for all of G*d’s children to feel welcomed. Help him grow and fortify this world. Or we can show everyone that we were fans not only of the Man, but of his Mission.
And his mission was nothing short of Shalom. Peace.
Peace for the wanderers. Peace for the dreamers. Peace for all our brothers and sisters. Peace for this beleaguered planet. And more than peace; a celebration of all the ways to G*d.
This man softened my heart not just to my Islamic brothers and sisters, who I knew to be by and large horrified by the abuses of their faith, but also to my Christian friends and folke. Who for too long I had seen as haughty and quick to discount or demean.
He showed me that people of faith and compassion are my brothers and sisters. He showed me that Shalom could be.
I was led to Reb Aryeh about 15 years ago in Ashland. And it is true that I left Southern Oregon (gladly) knowing that I had a spiritual leader and home here in Portland.
I will tell you from what I experienced last Shabbat at the “lay-led” service was not a fly-by-night thing. Reb Aryeh’s voice and words could be heard through the voices of the many incredible people who participated in the experience. It is as if the contraction of the Universe that took him, made us focus and pay attention a little more.
Reb Aryeh was a teacher and he taught us well. It is is up to us to carry on, to take up the call where he left off. After speaking with Imam Toure briefly yesterday, I have hope and faith that we will keep Reb Aryeh’s mission of Peace/Shalom/Salaam moving forward.
May we all be enveloped and fly on those Wings of Peace….
Thank you for your kind words. I didn’t get to go to the Lay Led as I’m a Big Brother and after these last six weeks, I didn’t want to disappoint my Little Brother. I plan to attend every and all events that I can in the future.
I was fairly regular on Friday nights, and I miss the energy of those gatherings. I was at my post, ushering in the Shabbot Bride that last night Aryeh was there. I still can feel his hand on my head, our foreheads together, him whispering one of his pet names for me.
“G*d willing” we shall all fly on those Wings of Peace.
Julian! Oh, Julian, how right you are. Aryeh would be so mad if he thought there was even a chance that all he’s tried to teach and build would crumble just because of his physical absence. I think that’s why he taught those who attended lay-leds how to lead. He told me once that he knew that he didn’t have forever, that soon he’d retire or who knew what else and that P’nai Or would have to go through changes when that happened. But I sure hope everyone’s able to come together and spread the joy and the love.
Love,
Helana (the hippy college chick who was always excited for you to sit with me in the front pew)
aww, see, Julian, that’s the rub. I had a terrible summer, got disgusted with mainstream Judaism and the fact that I would not be accepted into a single rabbinical school in the United States of America, save ALEPH, because I am in a relationship with a non-Jew, and was just starting to talk to Aryeh about the possibility of applying to ALEPH, moving back to Portland, and studying with him as my teacher. I had just sent him an email in late November about how disillusioned I am right now and that I don’t want to think about rabbinical school at the moment, but that I loved him and his community deeply. He sent me a quick reply, but explained that he was pretty bogged down with MExico preparations and all the things he had to do and that he would send me a fuller response “when I return, God willing, on January 8.” He also told me that I should connect with the chavurah in London, where I am, which he apparently taught in ’93 and 2000. I got in touch and I’m going to service with them at a JEwish Vegetarian Society on Saturday morning. They told me that they are going to organize an event for us to share memories of him and such. Anyway, I guess that bit’s okay for me to post here, but for a further conversation, you should email me: helanaleah@gmail.com.
And you have no clue how much I miss all of you
Love and tears and the shiva candle in front of me,
Helana
Remembering Rabbi Aryeh Hirschfield 
January 10, 2009 at 4:58 am
I was going through a particularly difficult time in my life and Aryeh told me of a slip of paper he found on the ground when he was going through a very similar situation. It was just a few lines from T.S. Eliot’s poem ‘East Coker’ and, of course, it was no accident that it had appeared to him anymore than it was an accident that he shared them with me.
“I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love.
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing”.
He was always reminding me to be present, here and now, for that is where life is.
January 13, 2009 at 5:55 am
Every person at P’nai Or has an Aryeh story.
We all have our memories of the wondrous, humorous, talented, profound human being we collectively lost just days ago. Well, we didn’t loose him. He just got a whole lot harder to hug.
Now comes the rest of the story.
As Jews we all ‘shop’ synagogues. We try to find that balance of congregation, denomination, Rabbi, and distance from home.
You can have the nicest folks in the seats next to you, all the right things happening in the service, you might agree with all the positions the movement’s leaders take, but if the Rabbi isn’t a good fit, you probably won’t join.
I remember going to an interdenominational presentation of several Shuls a while back. There was the requisite out of town entertainment. There were four supporting synagogues, running the gamut from conservative to liberal.
And while I liked the folks from the other places, the folks from P’nai Or were the ones that I was drawn to. And to its amazingly charismatic Rabbi, Aryeh Hirschfield. I had perceived that there were Lesbians at P’nai Or, but I wanted to make sure that I, as an out gay man, would be welcomed and embraced.
I remember Aryeh’s replies to my early emails. He noted how there were many lesbians, and even a transperson in the congregation, but he also noted: “It has concerned me that we have had very few gay men as members, and, given how welcoming I believe we are, that’s something of an enigma to me. So please be the one to begin to reverse that trend.”
I remember being saddened by that reply. I have often been a trail blazer. It is always a lonely road. But even though there are synagogues with more gay men as members (and there is an actual LGBT group in town) my heart was and is here, at P’nai Or.
But I, like so many others, felt the community Aryeh was creating was more important than if I find a date. And that’s the rub.
Weeks before Aryeh’s passing an acquaintance told me that if something happened to our Rabbi, our synagogue would crumble around us. Implying it was a cult of personality. I brushed the thought aside at the time. The idea that our Rabbi was going anywhere seemed so remote. And the person’s words sounded more like jealousy than analysis.
But it did make me think. I knew of synagogues that were personality driven. Heck, I’d visited them.
And while I love Aryeh, I respect him even more. Though we disagreed about things. I know angels exist. He was skeptical.
To me he was my Rabbi, I attended synagogue at his Shul for a little over a year; went to some of his outreach to the other Abrahamic faiths; attended Adult Education. I saw his interplay with his wife and little boys, but I let his personal life be his own. And allowed him the comfort of his role, as teacher.
And I admit to seeing him when he wasn’t ‘on’ and he seemed like such quiet, and careful fellow. Not the entertaining guy blustering through services.
But I know he delighted in us all.
And I remember him always saying “G*d willing.”
“So we’ll all meet here again next Thursday, G*d willing.” It drove me a little nuts. As someone with my history I understand the impermanence of things. But Aryeh saying “G*d willing” bothered me. Reminded me that as much as I wanted him to, we only had today. I wanted comfort. He gave me truth.
I can also tell you, I’m the guy who brought every friend I could to services. That to one they all felt more at home, more welcomed with Aryeh and with the congregation of P’nai Or, than they ever had at any religious service in their lives. We did good.
Now we have a chance. A choice.
We can make my cynical acquaintance right. We can fly apart. We can let go of Aryeh’s dream of peace and a place for all of G*d’s children to feel welcomed. Help him grow and fortify this world. Or we can show everyone that we were fans not only of the Man, but of his Mission.
And his mission was nothing short of Shalom. Peace.
Peace for the wanderers. Peace for the dreamers. Peace for all our brothers and sisters. Peace for this beleaguered planet. And more than peace; a celebration of all the ways to G*d.
This man softened my heart not just to my Islamic brothers and sisters, who I knew to be by and large horrified by the abuses of their faith, but also to my Christian friends and folke. Who for too long I had seen as haughty and quick to discount or demean.
He showed me that people of faith and compassion are my brothers and sisters. He showed me that Shalom could be.
Shalom, please find my shattered heart.
January 13, 2009 at 7:19 pm
Julian-
I was led to Reb Aryeh about 15 years ago in Ashland. And it is true that I left Southern Oregon (gladly) knowing that I had a spiritual leader and home here in Portland.
I will tell you from what I experienced last Shabbat at the “lay-led” service was not a fly-by-night thing. Reb Aryeh’s voice and words could be heard through the voices of the many incredible people who participated in the experience. It is as if the contraction of the Universe that took him, made us focus and pay attention a little more.
Reb Aryeh was a teacher and he taught us well. It is is up to us to carry on, to take up the call where he left off. After speaking with Imam Toure briefly yesterday, I have hope and faith that we will keep Reb Aryeh’s mission of Peace/Shalom/Salaam moving forward.
May we all be enveloped and fly on those Wings of Peace….
January 13, 2009 at 10:16 pm
Lauren:
Thank you for your kind words. I didn’t get to go to the Lay Led as I’m a Big Brother and after these last six weeks, I didn’t want to disappoint my Little Brother. I plan to attend every and all events that I can in the future.
I was fairly regular on Friday nights, and I miss the energy of those gatherings. I was at my post, ushering in the Shabbot Bride that last night Aryeh was there. I still can feel his hand on my head, our foreheads together, him whispering one of his pet names for me.
“G*d willing” we shall all fly on those Wings of Peace.
January 14, 2009 at 9:17 pm
Julian! Oh, Julian, how right you are. Aryeh would be so mad if he thought there was even a chance that all he’s tried to teach and build would crumble just because of his physical absence. I think that’s why he taught those who attended lay-leds how to lead. He told me once that he knew that he didn’t have forever, that soon he’d retire or who knew what else and that P’nai Or would have to go through changes when that happened. But I sure hope everyone’s able to come together and spread the joy and the love.
Love,
Helana (the hippy college chick who was always excited for you to sit with me in the front pew)
January 14, 2009 at 10:23 pm
Helana:
How goes rabbinical school?
You are missed,
Julian
January 15, 2009 at 10:13 pm
aww, see, Julian, that’s the rub. I had a terrible summer, got disgusted with mainstream Judaism and the fact that I would not be accepted into a single rabbinical school in the United States of America, save ALEPH, because I am in a relationship with a non-Jew, and was just starting to talk to Aryeh about the possibility of applying to ALEPH, moving back to Portland, and studying with him as my teacher. I had just sent him an email in late November about how disillusioned I am right now and that I don’t want to think about rabbinical school at the moment, but that I loved him and his community deeply. He sent me a quick reply, but explained that he was pretty bogged down with MExico preparations and all the things he had to do and that he would send me a fuller response “when I return, God willing, on January 8.” He also told me that I should connect with the chavurah in London, where I am, which he apparently taught in ’93 and 2000. I got in touch and I’m going to service with them at a JEwish Vegetarian Society on Saturday morning. They told me that they are going to organize an event for us to share memories of him and such. Anyway, I guess that bit’s okay for me to post here, but for a further conversation, you should email me: helanaleah@gmail.com.
And you have no clue how much I miss all of you
Love and tears and the shiva candle in front of me,
Helana