Remember what we are fighting for

Memorial day is a day to remember all of those brave men and women who are out on the front lines, defending our country and standing up for what they believe in. I love the holiday, not just because of the bar-b-ques and the relaxing, but because of the symbolism and meaning behind the event.

The day is, however, a sort of catch-22. I am someone who believes a pair of ideas that don't always coincide, most specifically in this situation. On one hand, I am a person who believes that fighting is the result of stubbornness, and that most often it is important to forgive each other and move toward a peaceful agreement on both sides of any argument, no matter how big or how small. On the other hand, though, I believe that it is incredibly important for us as individuals, as well as as a nation, to stand up for ourselves and defend the ideas that we believe are right. Standing up for one's self is vitally important, because without standing forcefully, your enemy will believe that they can reach their objectives more easily using force than peaceful agreement.

So basically, I am a big supporter of our troops. They are defending our land, standing up against those who attempt to plague our country with terror and destruction. But I'm also cautious of war, as I believe that no peace can be found when one fight remains.

Some people believe that to support the troops is to support the war. This is, frankly, rather ridiculous. The troops are doing the work, putting their lives on the line, because their country needs them. They are the human beings that make up this great nation, and as other members of that community, we are obligated to care for a support those who are taking up that important job of defending us. We can never thank them enough, but we have an obligation to try.

Thank you to all of those who have served this great nation against those who seek to destroy us. God bless America.

"I have a dream"...and YOU do too

You are 5 years old. You are sitting in a kindergarten classroom and your teacher asks you "What do you want to do when you grow up?" You think for a moment, and then throw something out there. Sometimes it is an astronaut, sometimes a fireman, sometimes a scientist, a president, and any other profession. But there is an answer. Something you want to do.

I recently turned the tables and asked one of MY teachers what SHE wanted to be when she grew up. At first she laughed, chuckling at the concept of "growing up" for an adult. But, after a minute, I repeated the question. I wasn't joking; I wanted to know.

Everyone has dreams. Whether they are short term or long, lofty or basic, insignificant or momentous. But all too often they disappear. You grow up, realize how hard it can be to attain them, and stop trying.

I find it especially disheartening when I see people stop striving for what they reach for. I can't help but feel responsible. That may sound ridiculous, but I feel that I could have helped them, no matter how big a goal, at least in some way.

Interestingly enough, one of MY goals right now is to avoid just that. My goal is to be there to help people realize those dreams that may be seemingly out of reach. I want to help facilitate those who think their dream is impossible, but really just need a little extra help in reaching the peak of the mountain.

So whether it be something as little as visiting some restaurant, or as lofty as becoming president of the United States, don't let your dream slip away. Don't get wrapped up in how hard it is to attain. Get wrapped up in how amazing it will be to get to the goal. And if you ever need inspiration, look for me. Ask me. Or ask anyone. All you need is a kick in the butt to get you rolling.

Guitar Hero

Rick Recht is one of the most prestigious singer/songwriters in Jewish contemporary rock music today. He has created dozens of songs to prayers, hymns, and ideals that are sung in congregations all over America, and even globally.

Today, I got the opportunity to play with him in a concert he gave at Temple Beth-El. This was, simply, one of the most meaningful musical experiences of my life.

Let's start with some back story. When I was about 10 years old, I heard that, at my temple, a young performer was coming to sing for us. It sounded like fun, so I went to temple early to get a close seat. It turned out it didn't matter, because Rick called us all up onto the lower stage to be closer to him and to the music. From that first song on, I was in love with his music, and I wanted so badly to be able to create it.

I began to pick up a guitar that my dad had purchased, and never got good. It sucked. It was hard, I couldn't get the notes to sound right, and I wasn't making the songs I had in my head.

I saw Rick a few more times, and every time he would tell me that I should play with him. I always politely came up with some reason to say no. The real reason was that I stunk. I never had the guts to practice hard enough to get any good.

Well, through some hard work and forced practice, I began to get better. I only really started working hard a year ago, when I was elected to my youth group position in which I felt obligated to be able to play songs and prayers that I was leading.

After a year of practicing, I was again presented with the opportunity to play with Rick, this time in front of all of my youth group friends. I decided to take the chance, and play. It was, in simple terms, amazing.

Now lets be realistic. I still didn't know how to play almost any of his songs, and definitely not well. But it didn't matter. Songleading is only about 10% guitar. Its really 90% excitement and enthusiasm. I sang my heart out on every song, played what chords I knew, and faked what I didn't, and bounced and smiled to the music. To hear that I was leading a group in song, no matter what notes I was playing on the guitar, was incredible. It was amazing to be able to be part of a community and create something with the person that inspired me to pick up Jewish music in the first place. I am forever grateful to Rick for inspiring in me that excitement. Now, it is my job to pass it on to the next Jewish musician.

Advanced Placement, not A Punishment

Its AP season. I know. I get it. You know how I know? Less people sleep, more people cry, everyone is on their last nerve, and nobody can hang out with friends because they are all studying.
I hate AP testing. Not because of the tests themselves, I can handle that. Not because of the studying that goes into them, I can handle that (if I do it at all). It is the freaking out that so many students do over the test. A test is, first and foremost, supposed to be an exploration into what it is that you remember and understand from the past year, testing not your ability to spit back information, but rather to assess whether or not the class was valuable in education.
Why, then, do so many people lose sleep, lose patience, and lose fun when the big bad test comes into view?
The reason for this, I think, is because of the society in which we live. So much focus is put on academic excellence. We have to get an A on everything. We have to take the highest level courses. We have to do as much schoolwork and extracurricular activities as we can possibly pack into one day, and not give any thought to what will keep us moving.
Where did we get this "Failure is not an option" attitude? I read, in English class, an article written by a writer, William Zinssler, who said that we, as people, have "a right to fail." This right has, however, been slowly taken away from us.
Failure does not, or rather should not, carry the negative connotation that it most often has. If we do not occasionally fail, how will we ever learn? We are told to learn from our mistakes, but how can we do this if we are not allowed to MAKE them?
I believe, in a society where we are taught that failure is not an option, the only people who tell us we are not allowed to fail are also the ones doing the failing. When a school tells us we cannot fail by stressing grades and making standards that are unachievable, they are failing to instill the ability for their students to learn from their experiences, both good and bad. When parents tell their children that they cannot fail and set ridiculous grade quotas, they are not instilling the values that are necessary for human life: The ability to fail, get back in the game, and succeed despite previous failure.
OK, I get it. I may not be the most popular AP student anymore. I am not accepting the breakneck attitude of kamikazeing my way to the test. Because guess what? There will always be a new test. There will always be a new bench mark, a new goal. If I can just stay up all night studying for ONE MORE TEST, I can finally relax. Unfortunately, when someone has this attitude for too long, it begs the question: When? When will you relax, take a deep breath, and enjoy just being a kid? Never. If you waste the few years of teenage life that we have on studying, we won't ever be able to look back and enjoy our past. We SHOULD study, we SHOULD set goals, but we should never let them contaminate our lives to the point where we don't have anything more to live for than just the next benchmark.
Stop. Right now. You may have a test tomorrow, or the next day, or the next. But it doesn't matter. In ten years, it won't matter how you did on an AP French test. It will matter if you lived your life to the fullest, and had the best life you could have had.

The power of mass

Today marks the Walk with Israel, coinciding with Lag B'omer, a time to join together and celebrate Israel's independence, as well as the excitement of a free Jewish state. With locations all over, it was easy to find a place to gather with other Jews and celebrate our homeland.

One of the things that I noticed as I walked was the visual effect that we were demonstrating. This was a group of Jews taking up entire blocks of suburban neighborhoods, filling the streets with people walking together. If any one member of the group had walked alone, the mental effect would have been positive, but it would not have held the same outwardly visible effect as it did when hundreds of people took to the streets to make this bold statement.

As we walked, we also saw motorcyclists driving by with Israeli flags attached to the back of their bikes. This too was valuable because it was a display of solidarity, a proclamation of emotion.

This got me thinking though: What would happen if we all joined together for things more often? It is often almost a cliche to make a facebook group "lets see if we can get X amount of people to join this group," but what if we were joining together for something in particular?

My first thought is peace. It seems to me as though the reason we don't have peace on Earth is because of blame. Everyone blames someone else. He did this, so I'm going to hate him. She did that, so I'm not going to agree with her. One person needs to be able to put aside their feelings of pain and their grudges and move on. If one person finds personal peace, as well as the power to forgive, it can spread. Just as our bad actions can often be contagious, so too can our good actions. Allow this acceptance to grow. Soon, if we all are able to accept each other, and not hold grudges, we can move forward without hurting each other. The only thing standing between us and peace is, well, us.

This may seem like a random idea in connection with the Walk with Israel, but they are very much the same. Just as I saw a march of hundreds of people in just my town parading through the streets, it is the same with the opportunity for peace. If we create peace, and foster it, we can walk around with it, demonstrating the excellence of peaceful interaction. Soon, it will spread as quickly as a wildfire. "Seek peace and pursue it" goes hand in hand with the idea of "once you've found it, shout it from the rooftops and spread it" (nothing quite like making up your own quotes)

So go out, and pursue your own peace. When you find it, encourage it in others. This isn't something that will happen quickly, or all at once. But hey, that's why God put us here. We might as well dedicate our lives to it.

For the love of the game

It has been two weeks since I last posted, and I apologize for the week off. Last week was an especially taxing week, both emotionally and physically, and I took a week away from writing.

Now, though, I wanted to talk about something that I saw on television yesterday. I was, in fact, one of hundreds of thousands of people who saw it. I am referring to a baseball game, a game between the Houston Astros and the Pittsburgh Pirates.

This game started like any other. The ceremonial first pitch was thrown, both teams took batting practice, both pitchers warmed up in the bullpen. It was, however, in the top of the first that something changed.

After Astros first baseman Lance Berkman stepped into the plate, Pirates pitcher Chris Jakubauskas threw a 1-0 pitch. As Berkman took a mighty swing, the ball went flying straight into the head of Jakubauskas. The pitcher hit the deck while the ball flew back in the direction of home plate, over the head of the catcher.

As the play came to an end, the attention shifted from the game to the people playing. Trainers and doctors rushed the field to aid the young pitcher. It was one individual's actions, however, that was the most significant.

Lance Berkman reached first base to conclude the play, and instantly turned, approaching the mound. He was there the entire time the trainers were examining Jakubauskas. He was there when Jakubauskas took his first steps. And he was there when Jakubauskas arrived at the medical cart, patting the man on the shoulder and sharing some words.

Lance Berkman is paid to play a game. He is payed to go about his business and perform at a high level of skill and efficiency. Nowhere in his contract does it say you have to be compassionate to your fellow man. Nowhere does it require him to care about the other players. Yet, he, this baseball player, has shown in one moment more kindness and consideration for human life than most people do on a given day.

I found this to be especially moving because of the time at which it occurred. So many professional athletes play with a chip on their shoulder, a nasty attitude, and a selfish personality. It was especially refreshing and moving to see a man playing a game, but being able to put that game aside when more important things are at stake.
It is for that reason that Berkman is one of the best players in the game. Not because of his home run totals, or his batting average, but rather because of the size of his heart.

Picking up a good read

I have, in the past two weeks, found a new way to spend the first 45 minutes of my weekend. As a member of my congregation who attends services almost every Friday night, I am constantly handling the temple bulletin, but rarely ever looking through it very deeply.

It was on one particular Friday night that a member of the community gave announcements from the brochure, reminding everyone of the Torah study session that would take place the next morning. It was during spring break, a week in which I had slept a very large sum of hours, so I decided to cut my sleep short that morning and go to the 9 a.m. study session.

When I got there, I was the youngest member of the group. I was welcomed with open arms, making me feel instantly like part of this small, yet cozy, community.

As the other group members got coffee and mingled, the Rabbi entered, and began to lead the discussion based on the weekly portion.

Instantly I was amazed. The deep thinking and search for meaning was breath-taking, form the first lines of the Torah to the last sentence of the conversation. I was overwhelmed with the insight of my fellow knowledge-seekers, and felt as though this, THIS, was what Judaism, but more specifically, religious practice, was all about.

After the 45 minutes were up, everyone talked for a few minutes, and departed on their separate ways. I had enjoyed this so much that I was considering coming back the next week.

That is when the first rough patch showed up. After a week of homework, stress, and sleeplessness, I was faced with a decision: Give up an hour or two of sleep on Saturday morning, or catch up on the lost relaxation.

I finally decided that I would set my alarm and get up. I could sleep some other time, but Torah was waiting.

Again, I got to the group, and again we discussed, debated, disagreed, and deliberated on the best ways to interpret the words. What was most striking was that we all were reading from the same book, yet of the twelve people in the room, each was reading the black letters a little differently.

This was, quite possibly, one of the most meaningful events of my Jewish life to date. I have never been able to have conversations with such a range of ages and life experiences as I did in those two sessions. I was able to grow on a personal level, finding my own interpretation of the words, and yet grow as a member of the community.

Additionally, the ability to question what we are taught is a principal in Judaism that makes it so intriguing. In some religions, people are taught to simply "drink the coolaid" and not ask questions. Judaism, on the other hand, encourages people to question. In fact, Yisrael, the name that Jacob took up and would later lead to the name of our homeland, means "one who struggles with God" and is where we get our drive for debate and struggle.

I love these classes. I love the ability to find a place in my community. And I love the struggle. Especially, I love to know that I am not struggling alone, and that I am, rather, grappling with the same words that my ancestors have been discussing for thousands of years. That is what Judaism is all about.