Indeed,  politicians are notoriously bad at the art of the public apology.  Witness this whopper from Assistant US Attorney Kenneth Taylor who referred to potential jurors in the eastern Kentucky mountains as “illiterate cave dwellers” back in 2003:

The comment was not meant to be a regional slur.  To the extent that it was misinterpreted to be one, I apologize.

(BTW: If this kind of thing is your cup of tea, I highly recommend the book “My Bad: 25 Years of Public Apologies and the Appalling Behavior That Inspired Them” by Paul Slanksy and Arleen Sorkin.)

Though Wilson’s outburst was undeniably appalling, I would personally say that his subsequent apology actually ranked fairly high on the ”Elul-scale:”

This evening I let my emotions get the best of me when listening to the President’s remarks regarding the coverage of illegal immigrants in the health care bill. While I disagree with the President’s statement, my comments were inappropriate and regrettable. I extend sincere apologies to the President for this lack of civility.

As I see it, Wilson gets high marks for apologizing immediately (the same evening), for apologizing directly to Obama, and for not equivocating (i.e. “I’m sorry if I offended.”)  I would also add, though, that he brought down his score somewhat for the qualifier: “while I disagree with the President’s statement…”

Saying “I’m sorry” isn’t as easy as it seems. If you’re looking for some good straightforward guidelines for Elul, here are some tips from ethicist Bruce Weinstein (aka “Bruce the Ethics Guy”):

• Admit your mistake quickly and take personal responsibility for it. Don’t say “We made a mistake” when you mean “I made a mistake.”

• Apologize first to the person you have wronged. That is the person who matters most.

• Speak from the heart. An insincere apology is as bad as no apology at all. People can tell when you really mean it, even if you think you’re a good actor and can fool everyone.

• Realize that “sorry” is just a word. For that word to be meaningful, you must do your level best to avoid repeating the mistake. This means coming up with a strategy and sticking to it.

• Understand that a meaningful apology is a sign of integrity, not weakness. Anyone can blame others, or deny that he or she did anything wrong, or lie about what really happened. Only a strong, self-possessed person can own up to their mistakes, and only such a person commands true respect.

• Don’t be afraid to ask for help. If you can’t do something well on your own, invite others to work with you on the problem. If the problem is beyond your grasp, consider asking someone else to take it on, if it is appropriate for you to do so.

Next to Health Care Reform, there’s no legislation that corporate America fears more than the Employee Free Choice Act. It’s not hard to understand why: the EFCA is a critical Congressional bill that would enable working people to bargain for better benefits, wages and working conditions by restoring workers’ freedom to choose for themselves whether to join a union.

So how great to read about Rabbis for Workers’ Choice – a group of 30 Pennsylvania rabbis who recently published a public letter to Senator Arlen Specter, urging him to to support the EFCA.  (And how especially great to see that the list of 30 is almost entirely made up of Reconstructionist rabbis.  Yet one more reason why I feel uniquely blessed to be part of this amazing rabbinical community.)

Now get ready to click. Click the clip above to watch my friend and colleague Rabbi David Teutsch offer “the religious imperative” for supporting the EFCA.  Click here to learn more about the bill. Click here to sign a petition urging Congress and the President to pass the EFCA. Finally, click here to see whether your senator or congressperson is a co-sponsor.

(Major kudos to my pal, Ross Hyman of the AFL-CIO, for his instrumental role in organizing Rabbis for Workers’ Choice!)

Click below to read:

Before I begin my remarks to you today, I’d like to do a brief review of my words from last night. For those of you who weren’t here, or who might have forgotten overnight, I talked about the concept of “sustainability”  and I shepped some naches over the ways that JRC has committed itself to the sustainability of our world. I also explored the concept of spiritual sustainability and how critical I believe it is for our lives. And toward the end of my remarks, I suggested briefly that our recent financial meltdown might well a sign that our country has been living an unsustainable manner – and that we’re currently experiencing the dire consequences of our behavior.

Now I know this word, “sustainability” is bandied about a great deal these days, in a variety of different contexts. Some might even consider it to be something of a buzzword. But the thing about buzzwords?  Sometimes it’s true, they do reflect temporary fads or the concept du jour. But in some instances the popularity of a particular word might just indicate an idea whose time has come.

So what does it mean when we say that something is “sustainable?” In the most basic formulation it simply means that something has the ability to thrive with permanence and continuity without exhausting limited resources. This is a fairly straightforward concept, but it is obvious that it becoming increasingly difficult for us to grasp.  In the Western world we tend to take our sustainability for granted.  In our country in particular, I believe our power and privilege creates the illusion of permanence – we take for granted that our resources are somehow inexhaustible; that everything upon which we’ve come to depend will somehow be magically sustained on its own accord.

But of course it isn’t so. The earth’s natural resources are not inexhaustible. Nor are the human resources of our communities. Nor are the economic resources of our nation. And if we continue to plunder or exploit any of these impermanent commodities, our wells will eventually run dry. This may seem patently obvious, but if it is, we certainly don’t seem to be getting it. The only way we will sustain the precious but limited resources of our world is if we ourselves take responsibility for their sustenance.  If we understand that their care and maintenance are up to us and only us. If we live mindful disciplined lives, taking care at every turn not to squander our blessings. Indeed, it is only when we see ourselves as primary agents of sustainability that we truly ensure a future for ourselves and our world.

The notion of a sustainable world is also a profoundly religious concept.  As a matter of fact, it’s the very first teaching in the Bible. In the first chapter of Genesis, we read that God creates an ordered and orderly world – and along with it, God creates the means for its ongoing sustenance. The earth, in turn brings forth “seed-bearing plants…each true to its type, with its seed in it.” (1:2) God also creates the various species of the animal world each with the power to procreate and commands them to be fruitful and multiply. When God creates man and woman, God also commands them to be fruitful and multiply but then God goes one step further. God puts the ongoing care and sustenance of the earth in their hands.

For whatever reason, God doesn’t just take care of the world alone, nor does God create a world that can simply take care of itself. This sacred job is given to humanity just as creation is barely out of the starting gate. A famous Midrash – an early Rabbinic teaching – makes this point radically clear for us:

When God created the first human beings, God showed them around the Garden of Eden and said to them, ‘Look at my handiwork, my creation, how beautiful and balanced it is. Be careful not to ruin or destroy my world, for if you do, there will be no one to repair it after you.

The point here, I think, is clear. The world was designed to be sustained, but it is not self-sustaining. The future of the world, quite simply, is up to us.

By now, we are all too familiar with the environmental implications of this teaching. And it’s gratifying that we seem to be witnessing a major sea change in green awareness in this country. The explosion in sustainable building and the increased production of hybrids and fuel-efficient cars could be a sign that maybe, just maybe, we’re starting to get it. Of course, as important as it is for us to promote green living as private citizens, we won’t see a true environmental impact in our world until nations themselves make policy to fundamentally change the way they consume energy.

And as a nation, America has to come to grips with the fact we are by far the most extravagant consumer of the world’s energy. In fact, we’re the most extravagant consumer of energy in the history of the world. America, a country with less than 5% of the world’s population currently uses 25% of the world’s energy.  Of course it is true that since our economy is larger than any other country, it requires more energy to sustain it. But it is also true that our lifestyle is twice as energy-intensive as that of other affluent countries – and about ten times the average globally.

Personally, I believe that energy over-consumption is only part of a larger sustainability problem in our country. It’s not simply an environmental issue. If we’re going to be totally frank, we’ll have to admit that our country is squandering precious resources on almost every level at an ever-increasing rate. In this regard, we’re heading down the road in which empires have traditionally traveled. And like all empires, we’ve begun to buckle under the weight of our own power and ambition.

The most recent example of this, of course, is our recent financial meltdown. It’s true, Wall St. has been living in an economically unsustainable manner for some time, and now their chickens are coming home to roost. But what did we expect?  If we want to be entirely honest, our entire nation has literally been living on borrowed time. Though our GDP for now is still the highest in the world, the world’s only so-called superpower now has a national debt that is nearly $10 trillion and increases at an average of $2.32 billion every day.

And look at how we’ve set our national priorities – we’re squandering our nation’s wealth the way all empires historically do: on increased military power. We maintain a military presence in virtually every corner of the planet.  Our country’s 2009 defense budget is $515.4 billion, roughly equal to the total military budgets of all the rest of the world’s nations combined.  But this doesn’t include money for fighting the so-called “War on Terror.” Since 9/11, Congress has approved a total of about $859 billion for the wars in Iraq, Afghanistan and for military base security. We’re spending $500,000 a minute on the Iraq war alone.  By the way, it’s been estimated that the money spent on one day of the Iraq war could buy homes for almost 6,500 families, health care for 423,529 children, or could outfit 1.27 million homes with renewable electricity.

In other words, we’ve been spending more and more money we don’t have to shore up our power and privilege at the expense of our own citizens. As is typically the case with empires, our nation’s wealth been has increasingly controlled by an ever-narrowing elite. In the last twenty-five years, 60 percent of American households have lost real income despite working longer and harder.  At the same time, all gains in income went to a mere five percent of the population. And for the top one percent, income quadrupled between 1979 and 2004.  Meanwhile, the financial safety net for the most vulnerable among us is disappearing quickly.

This is the inevitable outcome of an overall system that offers breaks and rewards almost exclusively to the wealthy and powerful, while assuming the rest will simply trickle down to everyone else. Meanwhile the wealthiest nation in the world cannot find the financial wherewithal to ensure basic health care for all its citizens. Our job market is shrinking, we’re making increasing cuts in education, social service programs for the growing numbers of hungry and homeless – you certainly know the list as well as I do…

And in addition to the well-being of our citizens, we’re also failing to ensure the well-being of our country’s essential infrastructure. While so many other nations around the world are investing in 21st century technologies, our levees are bursting, our bridges are collapsing, our transit systems are decaying. It has become so serious that many are suggesting we cannot reasonably be considered a developed nation in certain parts of our country. A non-partisan coalition of local and state leaders, recently estimated it would take at least $1.6 trillion dollars over the next five years to address the US infrastructure crisis.

We’ve all been deeply shaken by this current crisis, but I hope we are able to understand that it’s really only the financial symptom of a larger road our nation has been going down for some time. We’ve been living in an unsustainable manner. We’ve been living literally on borrowed time. Like all empires, we’ve been operating under the illusion of invulnerability, but it was inevitable that sooner or later, our bubble was going to burst.

So what’s a crumbling empire to do? Where do we go from here? What are the alternatives?  Well, one thing I’d like to point out is that we Jews have had a long history with empires. Whether it was the Babylonian Empire, the Roman Empire, the Byzantine and Ottoman Empires – we’ve lived among them, we’ve been oppressed by many of them, and we’ve witnessed many a mighty empire rise and fall over the centuries.

This, in fact, is one classical rabbinic interpretation of the story of Jacob’s dream. A well-known Midrash tells us that the various ascending and descending angels on Jacob’s ladder represent the rising and falling fortunes of the various empires to which the Jewish people would be exiled. First the angel representing Babylonia ascends 70 rungs, (for seventy years of exile) then falls down. Next the angel representing the Persian Empire ascends and falls, as does the angel representing the Greek empire. Only the fourth angel, representing the Roman Empire keeps climbing higher and higher into the clouds. Since Rome was represented in the Rabbinic imagination by Jacob’s twin brother Esau, Jacob fears that his children would never be free of Esau’s domination. But God assures Israel that in the end, even the mighty Roman Empire will fall as well.

I’d also like to point out that Biblical tradition has a great deal to say about the sacred importance of building a sacred nation. Before they enter the Promised Land, God tells the Israelites they are about to enter a land flowing with milk and honey – a land that contains all they will ever need. But God also says it will all be lost to them in a second if they do not uphold the covenant and create the kind of holy nation they have pledged to create.

God commands the Israelites repeatedly that they will have a future on the land only if they are worthy of it. If they ensure the sustenance of all their citizens. If they commit to the equitable distribution of resources. If they protect the vulnerable in their land: the orphan, the widow, the stranger. And most of all, if they realize that in the end, this land does not ultimately belong to them. The land belongs to God and they will always be but resident aliens upon it. And what happens if they forget all this? If they refuse or fail to live up to this sacred covenant? The Bible describes the consequences with its inimitably colorful language: the land will surely vomit them out.

On his new album the great Randy Newman sings, “The end of empire is messy at best.” That may historically be true, but it doesn’t have to be.  The world is indeed changing quickly and we seem to be realizing that we’re approaching a critical turning point. Other countries are quickly leveling the playing field and I believe it is safe to say there are going to be drastic and dramatic changes in the international community over the coming decades.   This change may indeed be painful, profoundly painful for many of us, but also represent an opportunity. Indeed, some of the most important movements of social change in this country have emerged from periods of social turmoil. Though it can often be difficult for us to see when we’re in the midst of it, crisis can very often be the midwife of rebirth.

We’re hearing a great deal about change these days, so I might as well weigh in myself: I would suggest the most critical change we need is a change from the culture of empire to a culture of sustainability. We can either do down like all empires, kicking and screaming, or we can recognize that the world is changing and if we are to survive we’ll have to change as well. We’ll have to make some sacrifices in the way we live, we’ll have to accept that amassing power and privilege will not make us stronger. And like the ancient Israelites, we will have to learn to live covenentally: to create a nation in which the community is accountable to the individual just as much as the individual is accountable to the community.

I’m not naïve. I have no illusions how difficult this is going to be. So I’ll end with just a few suggestions. And as tempted as I am, I’m not going to trivialize this issue by discussing the election. Now, I don’t disagree with those who say this is the most critical election any of us will ever face in our lifetimes and I also agree that there is so much riding on this election. But in the end, we need to accept that the problem goes much deeper than can be solved by the changing of just one leader.  Please don’t get me wrong: I want a change in the White House as much as anyone, believe me. But I think we also need to come to grips with the truth that in the end, wise leadership is only part of the answer.

Indeed, the day our new President takes power, these profound structural problems are not going to magically disappear.  We need to remind ourselves that we entrust our leaders with enormous power. And if are going to turn back the road to empire, if we do seek to promote a culture of sustainability for our country, then it will be our job to speak truth to power, to keep the power honest, to demand that the power remain accountable to those they serve, no matter who our leaders might be.

In this, I believe our religious communities have a critical role to play. As the popular saying goes, religious communities don’t only exist to comfort the afflicted, they also exist to afflict the comfortable. Hasn’t this been the job of religion at its best from time immemorial? To warn against the deification of human power? To affirm that no matter how powerful we may become, there will always be a Power greater than even our own? To remind leaders and nations that in the end, it is not by might and not by power that God’s world will be sustained?

For the Jewish community, it is a season of new beginnings, of new opportunity, new hope. If this will be a truly new year, it will not just be up to our leaders to make it so – it will be up to us as Americans, as people of faith, as communities of conscience – to do what we must to promote a vision of sustainability in our country.  In the meantime, whatever change may come in the short term, I know that you join me in my prayer for the most vulnerable members of our nation: the homeless, the unemployed, the uninsured, the undocumented. During the terribly difficult days ahead, may they find sustenance and security, comfort and hope.  May our country come through this painful time even stronger in spirit. And may we all do we can to make it so.

Ken Yehi R’tzoneinu – May it be our will.

When we caught up with the kids later on in the afternoon, they were all having a fabulous time at the Islamic Center field, playing Frisbee and soccer with joyful abandon. We joined them with a handful of hula hoops that Elaine and Kelsey Waxman had brought along. Aduts and kids alike proceeded to play together for over an hour before the WE-ACTx children’s program put on a special presentation they had prepared for us.

The children’s program is directed by a remarkable young man named Bertin Mulinda Shambo (bottom pic, in the yellow shirt) who guided it from a handful of kids to over 250. Virtually all of the children are either infected with HIV or have been orphaned by the AIDS pandemic. Bertin explained to us how many of these children originally came to WE-ACTx: angry and profoundly bitter about their fates. Seeing these engaged and confident children today, you would never even dream that they were living with HIV/AIDS. As one teenager from the program told our group, “We are strong, we are healthy, we are fine.”

At the presentation, we were graciously welcomed and treated to a girls’ dance performance. Our group reciprocated with the skills of JRCs teenage members Aaron Nachsin (juggling above) and Kelsey Waxman (hoop dancing). We stayed and visited with one another for hours afterwards, several of us enjoying a marathon (and steadily growing) game of volleyball.

Moday was our day to sample a bit of the natural beauty of Rwanda. One half of our group went gorilla trekking at Virunga National Park while the rest of us went on a brief safari to the Akagera National Park in the South Eastern part of the country where had seemingly endless interactions wtih impala, hippos, giraffes, and baboons. After lunch, our group visited the hospital run by the venerable Partners in Health – a state of the art community-based hospital founded by Paul Farmer. It was, as expected, beyond impressive – especially after our experience in Kigali’s public hospital.

Tomorrow is our last day in Rwanda and then we’re off to Uganda. I’m all too mindful that I’ve only scratched the surface with these posts – there’s so much more to say and so many more in our group that have stories to tell. Suffice to say we’ll all miss this beautiful country and its amazing people…

The central experience of our Saturday was a visit to CHABHA (Children Affected By HIV/AIDS) – an NGO that supports youth-led initiatives serving children left vulnerable by HIV/AIDS. A myriad of local children turned out for our visit. CHABHA’s Rwanda director, Richard Mutabazi greeted us and welcomed us on behalf of the organization, and helped us to converse with the children. As has been the case everywhere we went, our presence in the town caused a great sensation: children sprinted up to us as their shouts of “Muzungu!” (“white people”) filled the air.

These particular children were part of a local youth-led initiative called Amahoro (“Peace” in Kiryawanda). Amahoro presents a remarkable model of young Rwandan leaders who support and educate children orphaned by AIDS. The AMAHORO Association now counts more than 2500 orphaned children, many of whom live with one parent or other family members.

By far the highlight of our visit was a dance performance by the children of AMAHORO. As we watched, transfixed, the girls went up to our group and invited us to join them. As I danced with one particularly gifted dancer, huge shouts of laughter went up from the crowd (and I don’t think they were responding to my dancing prowess…)

We had a similar experience in JRC’s last trip to Africa – I remember all too well how dancing can be the “great equalizer” for peoples from vastly different social contexts. I guess that is my fancy way of saying it was so wonderful to connect with these children in this joyous way, even for this brief moment in time.

PS: Another member of our group, Hannah Gelder (above), is blogging about our experiences as well. I encourage you to read her very eloquent personal impressions of JRC’s journey…

In my previous post I mentioned an emotional visit to Kigali’s public hospital – that actually doesn’t even begin to do justice to the intensity of our experience. Mardge Cohen arranged the visit for us, to give us a better sense of the Rwandan health care system. Until this visit, we had only seen privately funded clinics, not actual hospitals used by large numbers of Rwandans.

A local doctor gave us a tour of different wards, including the pediatric care unit. For privileged Westerners socialized who take a certain standard of medical care for granted, it was a sobering experience to say the least: beds crowded together, patients and family members thrown together in a jumble in decrepit room after room. Most of us like to talk about the ways our own American medical system is broken, but the brokenness of public health system in Rwanda is truly difficult to fathom. The public hospital doesn’t supply patients with food or bedding; these items must be provided by individual families. We also learned that when hospital stays are completed, patients are expected to pay in full. Unbelievably, those who cannot pay must stay in the hospital until they are able to pay their hospital bills.

Private medical insurance is available in Rwanda, but it is obviously beyond the means of most Rwandans. There is also a national system known as “Mutuelle,” which is less expensive, but the social safety net system here overall is close to non-existent. It’s just so overwhelming to see the sheer number of people holding on for dear life or simply falling through the cracks.

On Friday our group split up into groups. One visited a WE-ACTx supported maternity clinic in rural Nyacyonga and the rest of us accompanied WE-ACTx social workers on their home visits to families. Our group visited the home of Beatrice and her 14 year old daughter, Leontine, both of whom are infected with HIV. We visited with them for close to two hours, sharing our stories and learning as much as we were able about one another.

Beatrice was infected by her husband, who later died – and she passed the HIV on to Leontine when she was pregnant. With disarming frankness, Beatrice told about how angry and depressed Leontine became when she first learned how she contracted her illness. She was near suicidal when they discovered the children’s program at WE-ACTx. Today Beatrice is a happy and confident teenager and a leader in the program. (We’ll get to see her perform with the children’s dance troupe this Sunday).

Our final visit of the day was an excursion to Nyamata – a rural village which is home to an infamous genocide site. In April 1994, a mass of Tutsis attempted to find sanctuary inside the church. 2,000 were eventually slaughtered inside and 10,000 were killed in the surrounding area.

The inside of the church remains much as it was during the actual genocide – the sanctuary itself is filled with the bloodied and torn clothing of the victims. The basement of the church and an underground crypt outside essentially serve as mass graves, filled with row upon row of human skulls and bones.

Incongruously enough, as we emerged from the crypt, the air was filled with the joyous sounds of Afro-Pop filling the air. A local church was celebrating a “Festival of Hope” just down the road. For many of us, the paradox of the moment was just right: in a sense we were experiencing both the horror of recent Rwandan history as well as the hope of the Rwandan present.

Even so, the visit shook our group to the core. Before leaving for Kigali, we gathered together for Kaddish (above). During the drive back, the sun set over the green hilly countryside. Rwanda is just such a beautiful country in so many ways. Looking out at this gorgeous, tranquil landscape, it is impossible to comprehend the sheer hell that was unleashed just fourteen short years ago.

PS: Our visit to the Kigali Genocide Museum was featured on the Rwandan news yesterday…

Man should strive to have his intestines relaxed all the days of his life.

–Moses Maimonidies

Be forewarned: this post is about poo.

Why, you ask, is a rabbi writing about…uh… bowel movements? Well, because as the Rambam himself reminds us above, having a successful BM is nothing less than holy work. If you think I’m joking, you should know that one of the best known daily blessings in Jewish tradition is the one we say before we do our business every morning:

You abound in blessings, Eternal One our God, Soverign of all Creation, who with wisdom created the human being with wisdom, making for us all of the openings and vessels of the body. It is clearly apparent that if one of these passage-ways be open when it should be closed, or blocked up when it should be free, it would be impossible to exist or stand before your Presence. You abound in blessings, the wondrous healer of all flesh.

It may well be that we are waking up to the joys of regularity – and in particular the importance of examining what we leave behind. The whimsical medical guide, “What’s Your Poo Telling You?” has now sold 250,000 copies world-wide – and even the Oprah Winfrey show has devoted air time to the the health importance of toilet bowl gazing. Could it be that that poo-observation is becoming (pardon the expression) something of a movement?

If I haven’t completely nauseated you by now, click above for a musical tutorial or check out this recent article from Salon. Here’s an exerpt:

Going to the john is no longer simply a process of elimination. No, the “unbridled elation that results from releasing the perfect poo” is now a transformative act, bringing the conscientious fiber-eating toilet sitter to a spiritual or sexual high.

(Hmmm, maybe Maimonidies was onto something after all…)

A few thoughts in the wake of World AIDS Day 2007:

The good news is that the UN and the World Health Organization have reduced the number of people infected with HIV worldwide from 39.5 million to 33.2 millon. The bad news is that the number 33.2 million feels like good news…

As a recent NY Times editorial stated:, “make no mistake, even with the revised estimates, the AIDS epidemic remains one of the world’s greatest scourges, requiring a strong campaign to bring it under control.” For a sobering demonstration of just what this number represents, click on the clip above (produced by The Foundation for AIDS Research).

An even more powerful document of the pandemic comes from journalist Stephanie Nolen’s “28 Stories of AIDS in Africa” – one of the most moving and important books I have read in years. I also strongly recommend to you this recent interview with Nolen which aired on NPR.

Again, to quote the NY Times:

It’s hard to rejoice too much when the number of people living with AIDS infections is still rising, more than two million people — mostly in sub-Saharan Africa — are still dying from the disease each year, and eight countries in southern Africa have more than 15 percent of their populations infected, a devastating blow to their societies and economies. The revised numbers cannot be used as an excuse to relax the campaign against AIDS.

For his Bar Mitzvah tzedakah project last September, my son Gabe decided to raise funds for Unite for Sight, an organization that promotes optical surgeries and eye care around the world. To date he has raised over $7,000.00, which enabled an eye clinic in Tamale, Ghana to purchase a much-needed visual field machine (medical equipment that diagnoses and manages glaucoma.)

Gabe was honored this past Saturday at Unite for Sight’s annual convention at Stanford University School of Medicine. (His entourage for the occasion: his mother Hallie, and grandparents Al and Esther, Larry and Ruth – plenty of naches to go around!) That’s Gabe above with Dr. Seth Wanye, Director of the Tamale eye clinic.

Here’s what Gabe had to say upon receiving his youth volunteer award:

When I was ten years old I received an eye injury in a soccer accident. Two days later I was taken into surgery to fix a detached retina in my left eye. If I did not have this surgery, I would have gone blind in that eye. At first I was apprehensive about the surgery, but then I realized that I was in good hands and that I was lucky to have this state of the art treatment.

Two years later, when it came time for my Bar Mitzvah, and for my Social Action Project, I decided to donate money to Unite for Sight. The advanced procedure I received made me appreciate how fortunate I was to be in a wealthy area of the world. My Dad and I looked up organizations that supported eye care in developing countries, and we found Unite for Sight. I liked that Unite for Sight was able to make a difference in peoples’ daily lives.

The Torah says, “Cursed be he who misdirects a blind person on his way.” This is what I said about this line in the my Bar Mitzvah speech:

“On one hand, this could mean taking advantage of someone like a tourist that doesn’t ‘know the ropes’ in a situation. The Torah teaches that we have a responsibility to be trustworthy and help others find their desired destination.

In a more literal way, we can interpret this commandment to mean we have a responsibility to help people who suffer from the curse of blindness, especially preventable blindness.

What would it take to stop the curse of preventable blindness in developing countries? More affluent countries should realize that they have a responsibility to stop the diseases and would need to donate money for more optic surgeons and more hospitals in these parts of the world.

I don’t believe that God can curse you or bless you. I believe that some people have good fortune and some people have rotten fortune and God has nothing to do with it. You have good luck if you’re born in a wealthy part of the world and you have bad luck if you live in a poorer part of the world. Poorer people don’t deserve to be poor, they just happen to be born in countries with less resources. They are not cursed by God but they might feel that they are cursed.

Even though I don’t believe God can curse or bless people, I did learn a lesson from my portion: It is our responsibility to help the world feel less cursed. We could help the world by donating money, food, and other resources to those who need them. We could send doctors to treat preventable illnesses in other countries that need our help.”

I would like to thank Unite for Sight for this honor. I’m especially honored that I could help the people of Tamale and Dr. Wanye to purchase a visual field machine for their Eye Clinic.

Thank you very much.

You can donate to Unite for Sight by clicking here. (A donation of $50.00 can restore sight to one individual – yes, sometimes it’s that easy to make a difference in the world…)

As it was Shabbat Hagadol (“The Great Shabbat,” the Shabbat which falls before Pesach) I thought of the special Haftarah we read for this occasion, Malachi 3, which ends with the classic passage:

“Lo, I will send the prophet Elijah to you before the coming of the awesome fearful day of the Lord. He shall reconcile parents with children and children with parents…”

The image of reconciliation in these verses are meant to evoke a sense of the messianic era ushered in by the prophet Elijah. I couldn’t help but think yesterday, as I looked around our sanctuary, that we were all getting a little taste of messianic days right there in our modest little minyan.

Children, of course, are central to the Pesach story. The Torah commands us to teach this story to our children, and the seder includes numerous pedagogical exercises that help us instill its sacred meaning and relevance: the youngest child asks the Four Questions; we read about the four different kinds of children who respond differently to the seder experience; we add songs at the end of the seder in order to keep our children (hopefully!) interested and engaged. On a somewhat darker level, it is impossible to ignore the fact that the seder story also includes notable examples of children in peril. In particular, Pharoah’s decree to kill all newborn male children drives home the tragically familiar truth that it is inevitably children – the most vulnerable members of society – who are the first to bear the brunt of communal persecution.

This is for me one central but too often ignored lesson of the Pesach story: the sacred imperative to protect the rights of all our children. It is an imperative that goes to the very survival of society – for the very future of communities and nations are directly related to the extent to which they safeguard the well-being of their youngest members. (In this regard, I am intrigued by the full text of Malachi 3: “He shall reconcile parents with children and children with parents, so that, when I come, I do not strike the whole land with utter destruction.”)

Alas, in the 21st century, our global community is failing their children miserably. According to Human Rights Watch:

The global scandal of violence against children is a horror story too often untold. With malice and clear intent, violence is used against the members of society least able to protect themselves – children in school, in orphanages on the street, in refugee camps and war zones, in detention, and in fields and factories. In its investigations of human rights abuses against children, Human Rights Watch has found that in every region of the world, in almost every aspect of their lives, children are subject to unconscionable violence, most often perpetrated by the very individuals charged with their safety and well-being.

Here at home, the National Center for Children in Poverty estimates that

Twelve million children live in families with incomes below the federal poverty level—which is about $16,000 for a family of three and $19,000 for a family of four. Perhaps more stunning is that 5 million children live in families with incomes of less than half the poverty level—and the numbers are rising.

The Children’s Defense Fund offers the following sobering data:

- A baby is born without health care every 52 seconds;

- A child is abused or neglected every 35 seconds – 906,000 a year.

- Over 3/4 of youths in detention have untreated mental health disorders.

- A child drops out of school every nine seconds of the school day.

- One out of every three Black baby boys born in 2001 will spend time in prison during their lifetimes.

If we do believe that Pesach compels us not only to teach our children but to keep them safe, then facts such as these should awaken us to resolve and inspire us to action. Please click the links above and find how how you can help make a difference this Passover.

May we find the means to reconcile ourselves to all our children; may we ourselves bring the Messiah, speedily in our own day.