gute zeiten
Tuesday, June 22nd, 2010ganz bewusst habe ich mich gegen internetverbindung zu hause entschieden, damit ich, wenn ich internet brauche, mich draussen in eins der vielen cafés mit wlan hinsetzen kann und somit ein bisschen unter menschen bin. nicht dass ich einsam bin oder so, ganz im gegenteil. auf jeden fall, heute ist eins dieser nachmittage. david bowie singt im hintergrund und ich bereite mich auf den heutigen unterricht vor, den ich leiten werde. und zwischendurch kann ich es nicht lassen, mir die fotos vom vergangenen wochenende anzuschauen. fotos von meiner offiziellen amtseinführung als kantor in meiner gemeinde. es war ein wunderbares wochenende und erneut fühle ich mich sehr dankbar und glücklich. die vorbereitungen, die musikalische zusammenarbeit mit anderen kantoren, das feedback der gemeinde, die lieben worte, die musik, die vielen begegnungen waren alle extrem inspirierend. ich hoffe demnächst ein paar videoaufnahmen zu bekommen und sie hier hochzuladen. ein paar fotografische eindrücke gibt´s hier und hier. ich hoffe auch bald meinen “ankunftssong” hier hochladen zu können. es hat spass gemacht ihn der gemeinde vorzustellen.
einen artikel über BCC und mir gibt´s hier.
und einen beitrag des deutschen konsulats über die einführung gibt´s hier.
anbei auch meine rede:
About a month ago, when I entered the festive convention hall at the W hotel for BCC´s annual Humanitarian Awards Brunch, I found my seat at my assigned table by noticing the little placecard with my name on it placed on the table. As I went to sit down I noticed the same placecard in front of the seat next to me, and another one in front of another seat at the same table. As I looked around and saw the cards at ALL the tables, I realized this wasn´t a name tag, but a reminder for the brunch guests about today´s intallation, here at BCC.
Seeing my name all over that room and hearing people being told about my installation and about me being the first Cantor to be ordained in Germany since 2nd World War, filled me with a healthy amount of nervousness and anxiety. I reacted by telling myself that all I need do is simply be myself, enjoy myself and be grateful for all that has happened over the past months. Yes, everything would work out fine once I would just be myself.
As I walked on stage to sing a song together with Tamara I was all at ease, until a familiar voice in my head, seemingly out of nowhere, decided to pop a question:
Great, Juval, you want to be yourself – that´s fantastic, but do you actually have any idea who you really are? Do you know yourself? Do you really know where you´ve come from? Where you´re going?
And there I was, really wanting to be myself and all of a sudden, I wasn´t so sure anymore whether I actually knew what it meant to know myself.
Songs sung , the question remained: who am I?
Surely, I thought to myself, I am a collection of my past experiences so far. Over the years I´ve been affected by all kinds of wonderful things that became part of my luggage. Experiences of luck and love, of disapointment and despair. I can’t help but wonder whether I was changed by these experiences. Did I go through what I went through so far in order to learn something? To see some sort of light and to change myself? Is that what life´s journey is about? Changing for the better through the ever growing baggage that attaches itself to us on our journey?
Amazingly, some of the most significant experiences in my journey are held in this weekend:
32 years ago today, (according to the Jewish Calendar – the 6th of Tamuz), I was born in a small hospital in Hedera/Israel. 13 years later, in the great Synagogue of Netanya/Israel I celebrated my Bar Mitzvah, surrounded by friends and family as I was reading from this week’s Thora portion Chukat. One year ago, on the 18th of June 2009, I celebrated my graduation from Cantorial School in Berlin surrounded by friends from Germany and Los Angeles. And tonight I´m here with you, celebrating my installation at BCC in what seems to be a closing of one chapter and an opening of another.
looking at this week’s Thora portion, we read about another journey that is about to come to an end: The people of Israel, after having wandered in the desert for 40 years, are about to enter the promised land. Before that happens though, they find themselves in a situation which bears great resemblance to another story that occurred 40 years ago, just when the people were leaving Egypt:
In what has turned out to be a consistently repeating pattern, the Israelites complain. They complain about the lack of water, and God orders Moses to perform a miracle by making a rock produce water. On the first year of the exodus, in Refidim, Moses is commanded to hit the rock with his rod, whereas in our portion, 40 years later in Kadesh, Moses is told to make the rock produce water by speaking to it.
In Refidim, Moses obeys God´s commandment and hits the rock.
In kadesh he operates in an absolute contrast to God´s instruction and hits the rock twice instead of talking to it and as a result he is prohibited from entering the promised land together with the people. Obviously there´s an affinity between these two occasions – the first being told at the beginning – and the second at the end of a journey.
A rock doesn´t produce water, whether you speak to it or whether you hit it with a rod. Water coming out of a rock is always a miracle. So why the different instructions? And why did Moses act differently in each case?
One answer that is offered by a Midrash suggests the following: The rock is a metaphor for a heart. In a hardened state it is as good as unaccessible to outer signs, only a brutal hit by a rod can reach this heart. In a softened, open state this heart becomes much more receptive to the universe´s signs. Gentle words can touch and stimulate it.
The same cry for water that occurs in the beginning and in the end of 40 years of wandering through the desert requires a different reaction in order to show us, the readers of the story, the people´s heart, represented by the rock.
When newly in the wilderness, newly freed from slavery, the people’s heart was closed and hardened for fear and insecurity. Their cry for water had included a challenge of Moses’ role and God’s existence. Moses calls the place “Massah [testing] and Meribah [quarreling] because the Israelites quarreled and because they tested God saying, Is God among us or not?” Exodus 17:7
Forty years later the people know Moses is on their side and God´s existence is not put into question. With growing trust their heart opens up and this time, they are just asking for a drink of water. The waters of Kadesh are waters of quarreling, not waters of testing, as it says: “These were the waters of Meribah [quarreling], where the Israelites quarreled with God and where God showed himself holy among them” Numbers 20:13
The peoples behavior stays the same – the people complain, but their heart has developed into a more opened state. Moses is told to hold the rod and to speak to the rock, not to hit it, and even though the rod is not used, Moses still holds it as if to remind the people that once their heart was hardened and in need of a stick that physically hits a rock in order to create a miracle, but not anymore. That´s where the emphasis on the transition from being shut and scared to open and content lies: in awareness of what has become a baggage over 40 years of wandering. The people did not change their ways. When they want to complain, that´s exactly what they do. But over 40 years they have learned to trust themselves and others and to open their hearts.
I´d like to take that insight and work with it in my little mission of finding out who I am and who I am becoming. I realize that nothing got lost in all these years that lead up to this day. I´ve been carrying it with me all along: The good and the bad, the chance encounters, the peace and the terror, the longing and the comfort, the conviction and the doubt, the shame and the pride. I have not changed the parts that I consist of, but rather learned to look at them and to find out which one of these parts are a gift for me to share with others, and which one of these are challenges that I need to face for myself.
I realize that arriving at a night like this is not so much about changing myself. It´s not so much about trying to fit into a label like being the “first ordained Cantor since World War II.” It´s not so much about reaching a point and stopping there. I guess for me, realizing the constant flow and motion that I am in as a human being, like the formless steadily streaming water (also known as the hebrew word ???? / Yuval) coming out of the rock. This realization is the greatest arrival of all and I´m thankful to be here and be given the opportunities, the stimulation, the inspiration and the tools to work with that realization.
The Journey which started in last year’s graduation ceremony and that is coming to an end in tonight´s installation service was rich with experiences of joy and loss and I´m grateful for the chance to have experienced all of these things. I´m grateful for the people who came along the way to express their encouragement and faith in me. I am grateful for the friendships that have been created, for the moments of grace and compassion and for the lessons learned. Thank you for that.
As a new chapter is about to begin, my remaining hope is that with you and me at BCC, this new journey will be as exciting as the last one.
Sermon for Installation 18th June 2010
About a month ago, when I entered the festive convention hall at the W hotel for BCC´s annual Humanitarian Awards Brunch, I found my seat at my assigned table by noticing the little placecard with my name on it placed on the table. As I went to sit down I noticed the same placecard in front of the seat next to me, and another one in front of another seat at the same table. As I looked around and saw the cards at ALL the tables, I realized this
[hold one up]
wasn´t a name tag, but a reminder for the brunch guests about today´s intallation, here at BCC.
Seeing my name all over that room and hearing people being told about my installation and about me being the first Cantor to be ordained in Germany since 2nd World War, filled me with a healthy amount of nervousness and anxiety. I reacted by telling myself that all I need do is simply be myself, enjoy myself and be grateful for all that has happened over the past months. Yes, everything would work out fine once I would just be myself.
As I walked on stage to sing a song together with Tamara I was all at ease, until a familiar voice in my head, seemingly out of nowhere, decided to pop a question:
Great, Juval, you want to be yourself – that´s fantastic, but do you actually have any idea who you really are? Do you know yourself? Do you really know where you´ve come from? Where you´re going?
And there I was, really wanting to be myself and all of a sudden, I wasn´t so sure anymore whether I actually knew what it meant to know myself.
Songs sung , the question remained: who am I?
Surely, I thought to myself, I am a collection of my past experiences so far. Over the years I´ve been affected by all kinds of wonderful things that became part of my luggage. Experiences of luck and love, of disapointment and despair. I can’t help but wonder whether I was changed by these experiences. Did I go through what I went through so far in order to learn something? To see some sort of light and to change myself? Is that what life´s journey is about? Changing for the better through the ever growing baggage that attaches itself to us on our journey?
Amazingly, some of the most significant experiences in my journey are held in this weekend:
32 years ago today, (according to the Jewish Calendar – the 6th of Tamuz), I was born in a small hospital in Hedera/Israel. 13 years later, in the great Synagogue of Netanya/Israel I celebrated my Bar Mitzvah, surrounded by friends and family as I was reading from this week’s Thora portion Chukat. One year ago, on the 18th of June 2009, I celebrated my graduation from Cantorial School in Berlin surrounded by friends from Germany and Los Angeles. And tonight I´m here with you, celebrating my installation at BCC in what seems to be a closing of one chapter and an opening of another.
looking at this week’s Thora portion, we read about another journey that is about to come to an end: The people of Israel, after having wandered in the desert for 40 years, are about to enter the promised land. Before that happens though, they find themselves in a situation which bears great resemblance to another story that occurred 40 years ago, just when the people were leaving Egypt:
In what has turned out to be a consistently repeating pattern, the Israelites complain. They complain about the lack of water, and God orders Moses to perform a miracle by making a rock produce water. On the first year of the exodus, in Refidim, Moses is commanded to hit the rock with his rod, whereas in our portion, 40 years later in Kadesh, Moses is told to make the rock produce water by speaking to it.
In Refidim, Moses obeys God´s commandment and hits the rock.
In kadesh he operates in an absolute contrast to God´s instruction and hits the rock twice instead of talking to it and as a result he is prohibited from entering the promised land together with the people. Obviously there´s an affinity between these two occasions – the first being told at the beginning – and the second at the end of a journey.
A rock doesn´t produce water, whether you speak to it or whether you hit it with a rod. Water coming out of a rock is always a miracle. So why the different instructions? And why did Moses act differently in each case?
One answer that is offered by a Midrash suggests the following: The rock is a metaphor for a heart. In a hardened state it is as good as unaccessible to outer signs, only a brutal hit by a rod can reach this heart. In a softened, open state this heart becomes much more receptive to the universe´s signs. Gentle words can touch and stimulate it.
The same cry for water that occurs in the beginning and in the end of 40 years of wandering through the desert requires a different reaction in order to show us, the readers of the story, the people´s heart, represented by the rock.
When newly in the wilderness, newly freed from slavery, the people’s heart was closed and hardened for fear and insecurity. Their cry for water had included a challenge of Moses’ role and God’s existence. Moses calls the place “Massah [testing] and Meribah [quarreling] because the Israelites quarreled and because they tested God saying, Is God among us or not?” Exodus 17:7
Forty years later the people know Moses is on their side and God´s existence is not put into question. With growing trust their heart opens up and this time, they are just asking for a drink of water. The waters of Kadesh are waters of quarreling, not waters of testing, as it says: “These were the waters of Meribah [quarreling], where the Israelites quarreled with God and where God showed himself holy among them” Numbers 20:13
The peoples behavior stays the same – the people complain, but their heart has developed into a more opened state. Moses is told to hold the rod and to speak to the rock, not to hit it, and even though the rod is not used, Moses still holds it as if to remind the people that once their heart was hardened and in need of a stick that physically hits a rock in order to create a miracle, but not anymore. That´s where the emphasis on the transition from being shut and scared to open and content lies: in awareness of what has become a baggage over 40 years of wandering. The people did not change their ways. When they want to complain, that´s exactly what they do. But over 40 years they have learned to trust themselves and others and to open their hearts.
I´d like to take that insight and work with it in my little mission of finding out who I am and who I am becoming. I realize that nothing got lost in all these years that lead up to this day. I´ve been carrying it with me all along: The good and the bad, the chance encounters, the peace and the terror, the longing and the comfort, the conviction and the doubt, the shame and the pride. I have not changed the parts that I consist of, but rather learned to look at them and to find out which one of these parts are a gift for me to share with others, and which one of these are challenges that I need to face for myself.
I realize that arriving at a night like this is not so much about changing myself. It´s not so much about trying to fit into a label like being the “first ordained Cantor since World War II.” It´s not so much about reaching a point and stopping there. I guess for me, realizing the constant flow and motion that I am in as a human being, like the formless steadily streaming water (also known as the hebrew word ???? / Yuval) coming out of the rock. This realization is the greatest arrival of all and I´m thankful to be here and be given the opportunities, the stimulation, the inspiration and the tools to work with that realization.
The Journey which started in last year’s graduation ceremony and that is coming to an end in tonight´s installation service was rich with experiences of joy and loss and I´m grateful for the chance to have experienced all of these things. I´m grateful for the people who came along the way to express their encouragement and faith in me. I am grateful for the friendships that have been created, for the moments of grace and compassion and for the lessons learned. Thank you for that.
As a new chapter is about to begin, my remaining hope is that with you and me at BCC, this new journey will be as exciting as the last one.
Shabat Shalom.

