I became the rabbi of the SAJ (Society for the Advancement of Judaism) in the summer of 2001. As the first graduate of RRC to be appointed to the historic synagogue founded by Mordecai Kaplan, I was asked to give a talk about Reconstructionism, Mordecai Kaplan’s theology and the prayer book (Kol Haneshamah). I talked about how Kaplan rejected a notion of a supernatural God, and I explained the changes that he and his colleagues made in the traditional liturgy, like removing references to the Jews as the chosen people. Afterwards, one person asked why the language of the prayerbook was so traditional despite Kaplan’s theology. I was taken aback because I think she was reading the prayerbook fairly accurately. I don’t remember my response, but I imagine saying something like — the prayer book uses traditional language, but we understand that God is “the power that makes for salvation,” rather than God is the king of kings.
There are many problems with the traditional liturgy and the service itself, including the God language, the length of the service, and the fact that most American Jews are not fluent in Hebrew. Even if all of that was somehow fixed, the central problem remains. For many people, the liturgy seems disconnected from their concerns, hopes, dreams and challenges.
I was at a synagogue once where the community had gathered to pray for a member who was about to undergo major surgery. Everyone there was worried about this person, but the service felt like something we had to endure in order to hear the rabbi say a prayer of healing for that member. I was struck by the fact that the evening liturgy of Ma’ariv was actually filled with helpful imagery that could have been articulated in a way that people could access– rolling darkness into light, God’s love for us, crossing the sea of difficulty to the other shore, going and coming in peace and lying under God’s sheltering presence. It was a telling example of the way traditional liturgy is treated as irrelevant to people’s lives.
When I retired, I was faced with the question of where to go to services. I was surprised when talking with our circle of friends, many of whom are Jewish professionals, that my dissatisfaction with services was shared by many of them. They all regularly attended Shabbat services but also were unhappy with the experience. Out of these conversations, the non-minyan was born. It is called the non-minyan not because it doesn’t have a quorum of 10 adults, but because I wanted to be clear up front that what was going to happen would not resemble a traditional service. I told the group I wanted to experiment with a format that began with the assumption that there would be no sense of obligation to recite the traditional liturgy. We would meet once a month for an hour and a half on Shabbat morning. We would spend half the time in a spiritual practice (formerly called prayer) and half the time studying/discussing a topic in the Torah portion or a theme of an upcoming Jewish holiday. Each month I put together a handout with lines from the liturgy or other Jewish sacred texts together with readings. Each month these would focus on one such theme, like holiness, open heartedness or the power of words. We would move back and forth, singing a line of Hebrew, reading a poem or a kavanah/intention and then singing again. The idea was to reflect on a spiritual theme aided by teaching, singing and the readings. We didn’t have a Torah scroll and did not read the Torah portion. We have never done the Shema or the Amidah. In other words, no one would confuse this with a traditional prayer service.
As I continued to explore these themes, both within the non-minyan and in my recent book, Judaism Disrupted: A Spiritual Manifesto for the 21st Century, it became more apparent to me that, despite the time and energy most clergy spend on Shabbat services, most liberal Jews aren’t showing up.
I decided to undertake my most ambitious project to date — to rewrite the liturgy. One challenge is that I wanted the liturgy to be both in Hebrew and in English. I recognize that most liberal Jews are not fluent in Hebrew, but I always have felt a commitment to the tradition even as I was willing to break from it. I am still in the early stages of the project.
I began with the book of Psalms. Why? The Psalms speak in an emotional language. They express psychological states from joy to despair. I believe people can relate to those emotions because we all experience them in our lives. Can the Psalms be reframed to make those themes more explicit? The Psalmist sometimes moves from drenching their bed in tears to ecstatic joy without any explanation of why that change occurs. Sometimes, there is a zig zag back and forth within a Psalm.
I have taken out all the prayers asking God to kill our enemies. It is clear we have enemies, but I don’t think we want to pray to God to kill them — leaving aside the fact that many of us reject the notion God saves people or kills them. Sometimes, I changed one word in Hebrew, from enemies to a similar word in Hebrew meaning troubles. I gave a title to each Psalm expressing its essence — a Psalm of hope or a Psalm of despair. I have rearranged the verses within a Psalm to make it more coherent.
I began the process by carefully reading the first 50 Psalms. I also use verses from throughout the Bible, especially from the Books of the Prophets. Proverbs is also a rich resource that speaks in a different tone than Psalms — it is more didactic and focused on behavior. Though the project at times feels audacious, I am reminded that the rabbis who composed the siddur not only included complete Psalms but also created new “Psalms” made up of verses from different Psalms. In fact, they used verses from all over the biblical text.
One example is Psalm 25, which is not found in the traditional Ashkenazic liturgy. It is a challenge to edit because it is an alphabetical Psalm.
Despite my not being perfect, please show me the way of God
Psalm 25
אֵלֶיךָ יְהֹוָה נַפְשִׁי אֶשָּׂא׃בְּךָ בָטַחְתִּי אַל־אֵבוֹשָׁה׃גֵּר אָנֹכִי בָאָרֶץ אַל־תַּסְתֵּר מִמֶּנִּי מִצְוֺתֶיךָ׃
דְּרָכֶיךָ יְהֹוָה הוֹדִיעֵנִי אֹרְחוֹתֶיךָ לַמְּדֵנִי׃ הַדְרִיכֵנִי בַאֲמִתֶּךָ וְלַמְּדֵנִי כִּי־אַתָּה אֱלֹהֵי יִשְׁעִי אוֹתְךָ קִוִּיתִי כׇּל־הַיּוֹם׃ זְכֹר־רַחֲמֶיךָ יְהֹוָה וַחֲסָדֶיךָ כִּי מֵעוֹלָם הֵמָּה׃ חַטֹּאותַי וּפְשָׁעַי אַל־תִּזְכֹּר כְּחַסְדְּךָ זְכׇר־לִי־אַתָּה לְמַעַן טוּבְךָ יְהֹוָה׃ טוֹב־וְיָשָׁר יְהֹוָה עַל־כֵּן יוֹרֶה חַטָּאִים בַּדָּרֶךְ׃ יַדְרֵךְ עֲנָוִים בַּמִּשְׁפָּט וִילַמֵּד עֲנָוִים דַּרְכּוֹ׃ כׇּל־אׇרְחוֹת יְהֹוָה חֶסֶד וֶאֱמֶת׃ לְמַעַן־שִׁמְךָ יְהֹוָה וְסָלַחְתָּ לַעֲוֺנִי כִּי רַב־הוּא׃ מִי־זֶה הָאִישׁ יְרֵא יְהֹוָה יוֹרֶנּוּ בְּדֶרֶךְ יִבְחָר׃ נַפְשׁוֹ בְּטוֹב תָּלִין וְזַרְעוֹ יִירַשׁ אָרֶץ׃ סוֹד יְהֹוָה לִירֵאָיו וּבְרִיתוֹ לְהוֹדִיעָם׃עֵינַי תָּמִיד אֶל־יְהֹוָה כִּי הוּא־יוֹצִיא מֵרֶשֶׁת רַגְלָי׃
פְּנֵה־אֵלַי וְחׇנֵּנִי כִּי־יָחִיד וְעָנִי אָנִי׃ צָרוֹת לְבָבִי הִרְחִיבוּ מִמְּצוּקוֹתַי הוֹצִיאֵנִי׃ רְאֵה עׇנְיִי וַעֲמָלִי וְשָׂא לְכׇל־חַטֹּאותָי׃ שׇׁמְרָה נַפְשִׁי וְהַצִּילֵנִי אַל־אֵבוֹשׁ כִּי־חָסִיתִי בָךְ׃ תֹּם־וָיֹשֶׁר יִצְּרוּנִי כִּי קִוִּיתִיךָ׃ פְּדֵה אֱלֹהִים אֶת־יִשְׂרָאֵל מִכֹּל צָרוֹתָיו׃
To You, God, I lift my soul. In You I trust; let me not be disappointed.
I am a stranger in the land; do not hide Your commandments from me.
O God, make me know Your ways. Teach me Your paths. Guide me in Your truth and teach me, for You are my salvation; for You I wait all day.
Remember Your compassion, O God; and Your everlasting lovingkindness. Do not focus on my mistakes and wrongdoings. Instead, O God, remember me in lovingkindness for Your goodness sake.
Good and upright is God; thereby God shows the mistaken the way to go forward. God guides the humble to justice and teaches them this is God’s way. For all the paths of God are lovingkindness and truth.
For the sake of Your name, please pardon my iniquity, which is great. How much to be praised is the person who is in awe of God, and who God instructs in the path that is chosen. Her soul will live in goodness, and her seed will inherit the earth.
The closeness of God is with those who are in awe, and God reveals the covenant to them. My eyes are ever toward God, who frees my feet from the net.
Turn to me, have mercy on me, for I feel alone and oppressed. Yet, my troubles have taught me compassion (lit. enlarged my heart) and taken me out of only being self-concerned. See my affliction and my suffering, and forgive all my sins. Please keep my soul and save me. Let me not be disappointed, for I put my trust in You. Let integrity and uprightness shape who I am, for in You do I hope.
O God, redeem Israel from all troubles.
(Psalm 25, with some minor editing and with Psalm 119:19 as the substitute gimmel verse.)
Psalm of God’s Love
As a Reconstructionist, I don’t believe God literally heals me. I do believe in a God who metaphorically loves me, who accompanies me on my journey and who is with me. A good example of this is a “new” Psalm I have edited. It begins by the worshipper describing a feeling of being unloved and forsaken by God. This “Psalm” is actually composed of verses from Isaiah and Jeremiah containing powerful images of God’s love.
בְּרֶגַע קָטֹן עֲזַבְתִּיךְ וּבְרַחֲמִים גְּדֹלִים אֲקַבְּצֵךְ׃ בְּשֶׁצֶף קֶצֶף הִסְתַּרְתִּי פָנַי רֶגַע מִמֵּךְ וּבְחֶסֶד עוֹלָם רִחַמְתִּיךְ אָמַר גֹּאֲלֵךְ יְהֹוָה׃ כִּי־מֵי נֹחַ זֹאת לִי אֲשֶׁר נִשְׁבַּעְתִּי מֵעֲבֹר מֵי־נֹחַ עוֹד עַל־הָאָרֶץ כֵּן נִשְׁבַּעְתִּי מִקְּצֹף עָלַיִךְ וּמִגְּעׇר־בָּךְ׃ וְאַהֲבַת עוֹלָם אֲהַבְתִּיךְ עַל־כֵּן מְשַׁכְתִּיךְ חָסֶד׃
כִּי הֶהָרִים יָמוּשׁוּ וְהַגְּבָעוֹת תְּמוּטֶינָה וְחַסְדִּי מֵאִתֵּךְ לֹא־יָמוּשׁ וּבְרִית שְׁלוֹמִי לֹא תָמוּט אָמַר מְרַחֲמֵךְ יְהֹוָה׃ בִּצְדָקָה תִּכּוֹנָנִי רַחֲקִי מֵעֹשֶׁק כִּי־לֹא תִירָאִי וּמִמְּחִתָּה כִּי לֹא־תִקְרַב אֵלָיִךְ׃ כִּי־בְשִׂמְחָה תֵצֵאוּ וּבְשָׁלוֹם תּוּבָלוּן הֶהָרִים וְהַגְּבָעוֹת יִפְצְחוּ לִפְנֵיכֶם רִנָּה וְכׇל־עֲצֵי הַשָּׂדֶה יִמְחֲאוּ־כָף׃ זֹאת נַחֲלַת עַבְדֵי יְהֹוָה וְצִדְקָתָם מֵאִתִּי נְאֻם־יְהֹוָה׃
For a little while I forsook you; but with a vast love I will gather you back to Me. In slight anger, for a moment, I hid My face from you; but with everlasting kindness, I will take you back in love, says God your redeemer. For this to Me is like the waters of Noah: As I swore that the waters of Noah nevermore would flood the earth; so I swear that I will not be angry with you or rebuke you.
An everlasting love I have loved you; for this I have drawn you with My love. The mountains will crumble and the hillsides will fade away, but My love for you will not end; nor shall My covenant of friendship be shaken, says God who takes you back in loving forgiveness. You shall be established through righteousness. You shall be kept far from oppression, and shall have no fear; and ruin shall not come near you. You shall go out in joy and return in peace. Before you, mount and hill shall shout aloud, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. Such is the lot of those who serve; such their righteousness through Me, declares God
(Isaiah 54:7-10; 14; 17; 55:12; Jeremiah 31:3)
I believe in a God who metaphorically loves me, who accompanies me on my journey and who is with me.
Yehi Ratzon Prayers
Besides editing Psalms, I am working on a number of other models of liturgy. The largest is what I am calling for the moment the yehi ratzon prayers. These are not so much directed to God, but rather to ourselves. They are meant to give expression to the values we want in our lives or the middot/inner qualities we wish to cultivate. These can be prayers to be more openhearted or to be careful with our speech so it is not hurtful. These prayers will be written in rabbinic Hebrew like those in the traditional liturgy. The important difference is I’m not asking God to prevent me from speaking negatively (Elohai netzor lishoni mei-ra), but I am reminding myself of my intention as I begin the day or when facing challenging situations.
Create a fence around your speech:
עֲשֵׂה סְיָג לִדְבָרֶיךָ.
דַּע: כִּי הַכְּלִי נֶזֶק הֲכִי חָזָק בָּעוֹלָם זֶה שְׂפָתַיִם. בְּמִלִּים אֶפְשָׁר לִגְרֹם צַעַר גָּדוֹל לִבְנֵי אָדָם. הַנֶּזֶק הֲכִי גָּרוּעַ בָּא מִלָּשׁוֹן הָרַע, שֶׁמְּסַפֵּר רְכִילוּת עַל אֲחֵרִים, אֲפִילּוּ אִם זֶה לֹא שֶׁקֶר גָּמוּר. דַּע: אֵין הֶבְדֵּל בֵּין אוֹנָאַת דְּבָרִים מִכָּל אוֹנָאָה אַחֶרֶת, לְדֻגְמָא: גֶּזֶל. אָמְרוּ חֲזַ״ל: הַמַּלְבִּין פְּנֵי חֲבֵרוֹ בָּרַבִּים אֵין לוֹ חֵלֶק לָעוֹלָם הַבָּא. כְּמוֹ שֶׁצָּרִיךְ לְהִזָּהֵר מְאֹד בְּמַה שֶׁנִּכְנָס לַפֶּה, כֵּן הִזָּהֵר בְּמַה שֶׁיּוֹצֵא מִן הַפֶּה. כָּל כָּךְ קַל לַעֲשׂוֹת פֶּגַע עָמֹק בִּמְעַט מִלִּים שֶׁל זִלְזוּל. אַדְרַבָּה דַּבֵּר מִלִּים שֶׁל נֶחָמָה לְמִי שֶׁכּוֹאֵב. הַזְכֵּר לָהֶם שֶׁהֵם לֹא לְבַד. שֶׁחֲבֵרֵיהֶם דּוֹאֲגִים עֲלֵיהֶם בְּרוּחַ אַחְוָה וְרֵעוּת.
הָאֶחָד שֶׁבָּרָא הָעוֹלָם עַל דֶּרֶךְ דִּבּוּר. עֲזֹר לִי לִמְצֹא מִלִּים הֲגוּנִים, מַתְאִימִים לְכָל עֵת.
. יִהְיוּ מַה שֶׁיּוֹצֵא מִפִּי בֶּאֱמֶת אִמְרֵי שֶׁפֶר.
Know this! That the most powerful weapon of destruction in the world is speech.
You can cause great harm to people with words. The worst is “evil speech/lashon
hara,” when you disparage other people even if everything you say isn’t
completely false. Understand that oppression with words is not different from any
other forms of oppression, such as stealing. The rabbis said: Whoever publicly
embarrasses a fellow human being will have no place in the world to come.
Just as we need to be careful of what we put into our mouth (what we eat) so
should we be very careful with what comes out of our mouth. It is so easy to cause
a deep wound with a few words of disparagement.
Instead, offer words of comfort to those in pain. Remind them that they are not
alone, and that their friends worry about them in a spirit of friendship and love.
The One created the world through words. Help me find the right words to say at
all times. Let what comes from my lips be truly beautiful words.
Being created in God’s image
אֲנִי רַק בָּשָׂר וָדָם וְלֹא חַי לָעַד, אֲבָל הָאֱמֶת הִיא שֶׁאֲנִי גַּם נִבְרָא בְּצֶלֶם אֱלֹהִים שֶׁיֵּשׁ לִי מִדַּת אַהֲבָה אֵין סוֹפִי — שֶׁאֲנִי יָכוֹל לֶאֱהֹב מִשְׁפַּחְתִּי וַחֲבֵרַי וְרֵעַי בְּלִי חֵקֶר. אֲנִי גַּם יָכוֹל לִיַצֵּר בְּיָדַי וּבְמַחְשְׁבוֹת מוֹחִי בְּלִי חֵקֶר. הֲכִי חָשׁוּב מִכֹּל: אֲנִי מְקַוֶּה לִהְיוֹת כְּמוֹ יְהוָה–כְּמוֹ שֶׁהוּא רַחוּם אַף אֲנִי רַחוּם. לְפִיכָךְ הָאַחֲרָיוּת שֶׁלִּי לִהְיוֹת קָרוֹב לְנִשְׁבְּרֵי לֵב, לִשְׁלֹחַ זְרוֹעַ נְטוּיָה לְדַכָּאֵי רוּחַ, לְהָקִיץ נִרְדָּמִים לִסְמֹךְ נוֹפְלִים, לִזְכֹּר כָּל אֵלֶּה שֶׁחוֹשְׁבִים שֶׁהֵם נִשְׁכָּחוֹת. רְצוֹנִי לִהְיוֹת כָּל מַה שֶׁבֶּן אָדָם אֶפְשָׁר לִהְיוֹת. וְכֵן יְהִי רְצוֹנְךָ.
I am just flesh and blood, a mortal, but the truth is I am also created in the image
of God. For my ability to love has no specific limitation. There are no limitations
in my ability to love my family and friends and neighbors. There are no limits on
the possibilities of creating with my hands and with the thoughts of my mind.
Most importantly, I hope to imitate God: just as God is caring, so I should be.
Therefore, it is my responsibility to be proximate to the broken hearted, to stretch
out a helping hand to those oppressed in spirit, to awaken the sleeping, to uphold
the fallen, to acknowledge all those who think they are forgotten.
My deepest desire is to be all a human being can be. May this be Your will as well.
Short teachings
A third category is a compendium of short spiritual teachings that can serve as wisdom, mantras or simple reminders of how to face the challenges of our lives. Many of them come from Pirkei Avot, “The Wisdom of the Ancestors,” such as “greet everyone with a welcoming manner.” There are hundreds more in rabbinic literature. Let me share with you two examples.
Lo dubim ve-lo ya’ar—No bears and no forest.
There is a little known but deeply troubling biblical story about the prophet Elisha, who succeeds the better-known prophet Elijah (2 Kings 2:23-24). Elisha encounters a group of little boys near Bethel. They jeer him and call him a name (which some Bible scholars think is a sexual slur). He curses them in God’s name. Thereupon two bears come out of the woods and mangle 42 of the children.
While some commentators try to justify Elisha, the expression lo dubim ve-lo ya’ar states there were no bears and no forest. It is used in modern Hebrew to say there is no truth to something. We all tell ourselves stories about what people are thinking about us, often without any basis in reality. I especially like this rabbinic response because saying there were no bears would have sufficed, but the whole phrase emphasizes that there was not even a grain of truth in this terrible story. It is not only a useful phrase in a time where lying has become so prevalent by public figures, but is also a useful reminder to ourselves that imagining what others are thinking is not only a fruitless enterprise but most often takes us unnecessarily to negative places.
Resting in unknowing:
Another example of a short spiritual teaching is taken from a verse in Torah. “Ve-anakhnu lo neida mah na’avod et Adonai ad bo’anu shamah/ We shall not know how we are to serve God until we get there” (Exodus 10:26). The context is Moses’ ongoing negotiations with Pharaoh, in which Moses increases his demands after every concession by Pharaoh. I suggest it is a spiritual practice to engage new situations without knowing how we will respond. The question is what is the right way to respond — “how to serve God” — at this moment. The Buddhist teacher Bernie Glassman (1939-2018) suggested that at times we need to rest in unknowing. Whether this means accepting our limitations as human beings or understanding we need to hold competing truths, it can be a powerful practice to enter new situations without a preconceived notion of what our response needs to be. Instead, be open to what may unfold in the present.
Similarly, where the work on this book will lead in the end I do not yet know. All I can pray is that the words I express, and the meditations of my mind and heart, be acceptable to you and to You.
