Shloshim Drash

by Cathy Zheutlin, P’nai Or Religious Services and Tikkun Olam Committees

 

As some of you know, Edis and I took a trip to the Dominican Republic, and upon re-entry to the states there was this request to talk today which seemed to come out of the blue…where I had just been. I had to check in to see who was going to respond to the request.  My ego? Or can I access some some other part of me, some part that lets go into channeling and prayer.

 

Sh’ma yisrael. Am I a God wrestler?  In this corner, Cathy enters the ring, she ‘s looking for Hashem, uh oh she’s pinned. We don’t know if she can get up or get out of the way.

 

Adonai Elohaynu, remembering that I’m not separate.  Remembering Reb Aryeh teaching me a word for remembering. Zihronot.  We are a tribe with ancestors. They left Egypt and I am leaving a narrow place inside myself.  So many connections, inter-connections with all of life, and eternity.  So that now, I can acknowledge to myself in this community over and over again, Adonai Echad.  There isn’t me, there is us. 

 

For this I am grateful.  Deeply grateful for Reb Aryeh, for all of you, for Adonai Elohaynu.  Sometimes I feel my heart, this little pump is inadequate to the job of gratitude.

I want to drop to my knees in some dramatic gesture, but maybe all it takes is a simple straightforward look into your eyes.  As Ram Dass says, I’m in here.  Are you in there? 

 

As I walked the coast last week, I started singing Open to me the Gates of righteousness; I will enter and praise Yah.  I know the gates of righteousness opened for Aryeh.  In life and death.  He walked though. 

 

He was willing to look at what was difficult and dark and challenging, put himself at risk so that he could learn more, understand deeper, love more, teach more, transform himself, and then share all that with us.

 

 

This is a huge time of transformation. 

When Aryeh went into the ocean that one last time, he was transformed on a scale that we can’t know until it’s our turn to embrace the turning of the wheel. Sh’ma Yisrael Adonai Elohaynu, Adonai Echad. 

 

Aryeh taught me the importance of repetition, and ritual. Repetition has power because it builds energy over time. He taught me to ground my heart in prayer. To make my announcements into prayers.  To have a daily practice, if for nothing else than to notice “My God the soul you have given me, she is pure.” 

 

During holy days, I sat in awe watching Aryeh read a room.  He was a master at reading the energy in a room and then knowing just the right song to lift us into joy, or soothe us, or how to make us laugh, plus what to cut to keep us on schedule.  He tuned into us and we to him. We knit our hearts together into this garment we call P’nai Or.   

 

Groucho Marx said I don’t want to belong to a club that would have me as a member. Arden said it a little differently “P’nai Or has to survive, no one else would want us.”  Aryeh spoke to that part of us, the outsider, the misfit.

 

I’m sure sometimes it surprised Aryeh the man that Aryeh the archetype was always operating in our lives.  He chose a perfect career. Heart beating existence transformed into melody and melodies used to praise God, praise creation, praise the mountains, seas, eagles, gardens, and Groucho Marx. 

 

Behind all this there was purpose.  There was always a purpose.  The strongest one was… and still is… tikkun olam, repairing the world with tzdakah, Righteousness  justice, and fairness. So much of Aryeh’s life, his relationships and decisions were based on his commitment to justice and fairness, for the earth and all its inhabitants.

 

We honor him and honor his memory by committing ourselves to tzdakah projects. By taking steps in the world of assiyah, the world of doing, here on the earth.  That is one of the teachings of shloshim; to look at our world and see how we can help. 

 

If you attended either of the Tu B’shvat events you heard from the teens that they have a challah baking project to support the P’nai Or tzdakah partners.  You learned from Lieba, Emma and Ilan about The SW Community Health Center and Abir’s Garden Project.  Forgive me for the repetition.  I ask that you listen with new ears as I give you more specifics about P’nai Or’s current tzdakah partners. 

 

I think Beth was the first person in our congregation to connect with the Southwest Community Health Center.  She told me some things about it that I am going to share with you.  It’s called a free clinic, but its not.  It’s a relatively free clinic.  They ask a $15 dollar donation for their services, and if someone cannot pay, then the services are free.  They tell stories of grateful patients who couldn’t pay at the time of receiving treatment, but months or a year or two later came back to the clinic wanting to offer their $15 in gratitude. 

 

The clinic exists because it receives free medications, free lab and other free diagnostic services.  They write grant proposals for specific needs that arise out of the population they serve, such as helping people with diabetes and vision problems. 

 

There are several similar clinics in Portland.  What drew Beth to this one was an invitation she saw on Aryeh’s desk. It was addressed to us, to P’nai Or, inviting us to participate in an interfaith group that supports the SW Community Health Center.  They had invited every congregation in a 5-mile radius to be a part of this interfaith support group. 

 

So Beth went to a meeting at the clinic and met one of the co-directors, Samira, a Pakistani Muslim whose partner is a Jewish woman married to a Japanese man.  At the meeting was a friend of Aryeh’s named Shariar, whom many of you know is a Muslim activist for social justice.  Members of various congregations reported on how they support the clinic. One church brings meals to clinic volunteers.  St Annes’ Catholic Church organizes fundraising hikes.  Another church’s choral group did a benefit performance. 

 

It happens that within Portland, SW Portland has the largest population of Jews and Muslims living together, and it also has a hidden population of immigrants and poor people.  So here in our back yard, is this health center offering us a way to get  involved with the works of our hands, boots on the ground, in an interfaith environment.

 

At this time of Shloshim, when we find ourselves ever so slightly turning, allowing the edges of grief to align more deeply with gratitude, we are guided to move in the direction of tzedakah.

 

If its not time for you to do this yet, that’s okay. Please just note that some day it may be possible. 

 

I cannot take too much more of your time…but I do want to tell you about Abir’s Garden Project. 

 

Abir, a beautiful vibrant, ten year old Palestinian girl was killed.  Her father, a member of Combatants for Peace has chosen peace and justice over revenge.  “Revenge would have been the easy choice, he said, when I lost my heart, my child”  Bassam Aramin, Abir’s father is working with other members of Combatants for Peace,  Jews and Palestinians together, to make a safe playground and garden where children can play and heal. 

 

Abir’s Garden Project needs donations of money.  The SW Community Health Center needs energy and creativity.  Aviel had an idea to create an interfaith basketball league that could raise funds for the clinic, and already some local Muslim teens are enthusiastic about that.  The tikkun olam committee will be organizing activities and giving more information about this. 

 

Our strength and continuity as we move into the future will be built in part on our tzdakah projects.  One part of healing is giving to others.  Carrying on honors our rebbe. 

 

Open to me the Gates of Righteousness, I will enter and praise yah.