A Rest From the Rat Race
Lily Tomlin once quipped, “The problem with the rat race is even if you win, you are a still a rat.”
I don’t know about you, but there are days, even weeks, when I feel that I am in a maze of life, in race, for a purpose I don’t quite understand and with a destination that is less than clear.

Most of us are overwhelmed by the circumstances of our everyday lives. Take for example the typical day in the life of a parent: Wake up at 6:00 am. Pack lunches for children. Lay out cloths for children. Prepare breakfast for children. Drive older kids to school, younger kids to nursery school (which is no where near the first school). Go to work. Lunch break – go to the dentist. Leave work early as the baby sitter has canceled for the day. Pick up older kids from school. Take those kids to piano practice and ballet practice (on the alternate days, take them to Hebrew school). While older ones are at their respective practices, drive back to nursery school to pick up younger kids. Get home – sit them down for homework, which gives you sometime to prepare dinner. Get dinner on the table – take break from homework. Eat (which is the first time you have eaten all day – by the way). Start round-robin bathing. Put in children in bed. Pay bills – every other bill, you must run up stairs to stop World War III or the respond the child who is too scared to be by him/herself. Catch up with spouse and then fall asleep before you are able to finish the dinner dishes or put away the laundry.

Does this sound at all familiar? It is the rat race of our lives and it is often hard to eek out any meaning from such days. Judaism does offer us a respite, though, from the everyday nature of our lives…it is an idea which comes straight from the story of Creation itself – it is called Shabbat. Metaphorically, God must have worked awfully hard to create the world in six days – from morning till night (or in Judaism actually, from night to the next night) – until finally God realized that for any of this to have meaning, the Holy One needed to time to step back, reflect on what had been created and dream about what the next six days could hold.

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, the great 20th Century Jewish Philosopher wrote, “‘Those who delight in Shabbat’ add to their lives a heritage of “joy and spiritual distinction.” Shabbat helps us to liberate ourselves from the tyranny of the clock, from enslavement to things. Shabbat provides us with a weekly exodus from the world of strain, struggle, and strife. Shabbat summons us to worship and reflect, to renew our dreams, to rekindle our hopes. Shabbat drapes us with dignity and honor, for we are each created in the Divine image. Shabbat helps us to remember that we are partners with God in the work of creation. Shabbat strengthens us for the challenge to overcome weariness, to resist despair. Shabbat beckons us to a sense of the holy, to an awareness of the sacred dimensions of life.”

Let the Sabbath put an end to the rat race of every week.

America the Beautiful
We live in complicated times right now. As I look at the world today, I am saddened and I also stand in awe. I am saddened because I see so many societies that suffer under brutal conditions, from tyrannical dictators, to oppressive religious regimes, to ways of life that can never lead to prosperity and happiness. And I stand in awe because of what I know we have in this great country of ours. America has, and continues to provide all people with, freedom that has never been known to Jews, for example, in the history of the Jewish people. Given that freedom, Jewish people have flourished exponen¬tially to our actual numbers (less that 2% of the American population). This has not only been because of the courage and fortitude of Jews, butalso because of the leadership and strength of others as well.

If we look back at the early days of the Jews in America, we see, with these two past presidents at least, an affectionate and respectful relationship between the presidency and the Jewish community.

George Washington
In August 1790, the Jews of Newport, Rhode Island, welcomed President George Washington with grace and honor. Washington was inaugurated in April 1789 and visited Newport the next year and was greeted with these words."Permit the children of the stock of Abraham to approach you with the most cordial affection and esteem for your person and merits and to join with our fellow citizens in welcoming you to Newport... "
Washington responds:
"...All possess alike liberty of conscience and immunities of citizenship. It is now no more that toleration is spoken of, as if it was by the indulgence of one class of people that another enjoyed the exercise of their inherent natural rights. For happily the government of the United States, which gives to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance, requires only that they who live under its protection should demean themselves as good citizens, in giving it on all occasions its effectual support.

May the children of the stock of Abraham who dwell in this land continue to merit and enjoy the goodwill of the other inhabitants, while every one shall sit in safety under his own vine and fig tree, and there shall be none to make them afraid."

These words from President Washington pleased the Jewish community greatly. Never before had a ruler, king, or emperor expressed such admiration and support for the Jews. Notwithstanding the pockets of anti-Semitism and times of bigotry that this country has experienced, our first president set the course for Jews to succeed in this country both under the full protection of the letter of law and with the spirit of the people.

Abraham Lincoln
In 1862, General Ulysses S. Grant, as the new Military governor of a newly conquered Civil War territory, issued Order 11, which mandated the total expulsion of the "Jews as a class" from an area corresponding with what is today Northern Mississippi, Kentucky and Western Tennessee. Jews were expected to move within 24 hours without a trial or hearing.

Cesar Kaskel, a Jew who lived in this territory, sent an urgent telegram to the White House protesting "this inhuman Order, the carrying out of which would be the grossest violation of the Constitution and our rights as citizens under it, which will place us ... as outlaws before the whole world"

Kaskel received an audience with the president shortly thereafter. Order 11, which was unknown to Lincoln until after its issuance, shocked him greatly, So much so that he was not sure it was true. He asked Kaskel, "And so the children of Israel were driven from the happy land of Canaan?"

Kaskel is reported to have responded, "Yes, and that is why we have come unto Father Abraham's bosom, asking for protection".

Lincoln apparently answered, "And this protection they shall have at once."

Lincoln then sent this dispatch to Grant A paper purporting to be General Orders, No. 11, issued by you December 17, has been presented here. By its terms, it expells (sic) all Jews from your department - If such an order has been issued, it will be immediately revoked.

Grant revoked the order three days later.

President Lincoln's leadership not only freed the slaves, but his courage prevented the Jews from ecoming homeless yet once again. Jewish roots in this land have been nurtured by these two reat Americans and Jews and others have blossomed, in part, because of them. I am so proud to be Jewish and equally proud to be American. But the combination of the two enhance one other, for as I exercise my right to Freedom of Religion, I am practicing my Judaism and vice versa. The combination of the two is the greatest gift of all. I thank Presidents Washington and Lincoln for securing those privileges and for always defending them. We honor your births as we honor your lives.

Being Created In God’s Image
In the first chapter of the Book of Genesis, we find a most compelling thought when it states, "God created the human in God's image, in the image of God, the Eternal created the human." Spiritual people seek to understand our actions in the world as well as God's influence in our lives.  How do we access that Divine Image in which we were created? What does that "godly" part of us look like?

The Hebrew word for "image" is "btzelem.” But it also has the connotation of "reflection" as with a camera lens. When people look at us and our actions, they take a mental picture of who we are. To be created in the Divine Image is an opportunity for us to illuminate the best that is within us. This is one way to bring God to the world.

An old story is told of a I0-year-old boy who entered a hotel coffee shop and sat at a table. A waitress put a glass of water in front of him. "How much is a super-duper ice cream sundae?" he asked.

"Fifty cents," replied the waitress. The little boy, pulled his hand out of his,pocket and studied the coins in it

"Well, how much is a plain dish of ice cream?" he inquired. By now more people were waiting for a table and the waitress was growing impatient

"Thirty-five cents," she brusquely replied. The little boy again counted his coins.

"I'll have the plain ice cream," he said. The waitress brought the ice cream, put the bill on the table and walked away. The boy finished the ice cream, paid the cashier and left. When the waitress came back, she began to cry as she wiped down the table. There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were two nick­els and five pennies — he could have afforded the full super-duper sundae, but then he would not have been able to leave her a tip. So he decided on the plain ice cream and paid the waitress her tip.

The picture of this boy reflects the best of humanity. He did what was right according to his values as he was also valuing another human being. Being created in the Divine Image requires us to dig deep within so that we are able to reach out to others. Martin Buber, the great 20th century theologian, taught that God is found in relationships. Let us begin by rediscovering a relation­ship with ourselves and with each other and there we will find God.

How to Live with Doubt
Cardinal Manning, the English churchman, authored a book called Confidence in God!   One day, wanting a copy of the book for his own use, he called the local book shop for it. The clerk yelled downstairs to the keeper of the storeroom.  “One copy of Manning’s Confidence in God!”  In a few moments, the answer came up the stairs: “Manning’s Confidence in God! all gone.”

We pray to God, we “believe” in God, we talk about God…but what happens when we have doubt?  What happens when our confidence in God wanes?  How can we believe that God is One and doubt at the same time?

So much of what happens in our complicated world would seems to suggest that there is no God.  All the war, the death and destruction, the “natural” disasters are evidence that point to an atheism as opposed to a theism (any kind of theism).  At the very least, for those who believe, it would seem that these events cause us doubt.  What shall we do?

The Jewish philosopher, Steven Katz taught, “As for the mystery of God….If I could understand God, I would be God.  The Kotzker Rebbe once said:
‘A God that any Tom, Dick or Harry can understand, phooey.  I don’t need such a God.’”

To say the least, God is a complicated matter.  We live in a society in which many take a much too simplistic view of God.  The fundamentalists of all types and religions do God an injustice by being so self righteous and self assured of the complicated matter of divinity.   Our God and God of our fathers and mothers is a God whose nature is elusive, whose depth is beyond that which we can dive and whose presence is sometimes felt and yet sometimes absent.

A Holocaust survivor once said, “You’ve got to be very close to God, you have to know Him very well to blaspheme Him.  Only a deeply religious person can despise God, shake his fist at God and abuse Him.  A blaspheming Jew is a believing Jew.”  His point is that part of the definition of being a Jew is struggling with the role God plays in one’s life.  God may be One, but God is called by many names. And sometimes God is even called names.

I live with doubt every day of my life.  I live with self doubt, with professional doubt and with spiritual doubt.  My process as a Jew is to navigate myself through the waters of life, keeping my head above the water – sometimes swimming free style, sometimes appreciating the beauty of the butterfly and yet sometimes getting caught on my back is the only option.  In any case, being in the water is what keeps me afloat.  Being Jewish keeps me afloat.   I wonder if the splashes that life throws at me is God trying to communicate something to me.  At other times, when I feel like I am drowning, I wonder where God is to save me.

If God is everything, then God must also be doubt in God.  Judaism is not a dogmatic religion.  It is a religion that encourages us to ask, plead, contemplate and doubt, for in the end, those actions define faith.  As Jews, when we wrestle with God, we come out stronger, more mitzvah centered and more faithful to the vision set for us.

Jewish Standard Time
Notwithstanding this Rabbi's obsession with punctuality, we have become a people who always run late. Five minutes here, ten minutes there – eventu­ally we get to where we are go­ing, but rarely on time. I read at the end of December 2006, the fol­lowing article in the Los Angeles Times about the earth not being on time for the New Year.

“A leap second will be inserted in the world's clocks just before midnight — Greenwich mean­time — on New Year's Eve,
a spokesman for the U.S. Naval Observatory says.

That means 7 p.m. EST, Dec. 31, will occur one second later than it would have otherwise.

Leap seconds are needed occa­sionally because modern atomic clocks measure time with great accuracy, while the rotation of the Earth can be inconsistent at times.

The rotation of the Earth has been slowing down, so leap sec­onds keep the clocks and the Earth from getting out of sync with each another."

I could not believe what I was reading that in fact technology was more correct than the rota­tion of the Earth. Let's be sure we understand this – our devel­opment of the understanding of time has risen to such accuracy that we can calculate it as more "correct" than the true rotation of the Earth.

I plead guilty to being a wor­shiper in the Temple of technol­ogy. With my Treo that does phone, email and web, to my Tivo, to my GPS system – I love technology. But I get concerned when the advances of scientific knowledge suggest that nature is somehow wrong or not in keep­ing with the laws of that nature.

Researching this subject in the Talmud, the ancient Jewish text, I came across the fol­lowing passage:

"...he he who is able to calculate the cycles and planetary courses but does not, others are not per­mitted to speak to him." This suggests that it is imperative on those with the skill to research such subjects as the rotation of the world ought to do it.

It goes on further to say, "One rabbi asked, 'How do we know that it is one's duty to calculate the cycles and planetarycourses?”

The answer, "Say, that it is the science of cycles and plan­ets." (Talmud Shabbat 75a)

Our own Talmud, some 1500 years ago, struggled with making sure that technology kept up with nature and vice versa. In fact, one who has the knowledge is obligated to study the science of cycles and planets and teach the rest of us
about it.

It is interesting to note that the story of Creation tells us that when God created "things," the Almighty called them "good" or "very good." But when God cre­ated Shabbat, in other words "time," God called it "holy." Sci­ence and secular knowledge have made our world better. Think of our life without com­puters, or automobiles, or tele­phones? The questions become though: has the computer made us more productive? Has the automobile saved us time and if so, what have we done with all the extra time? Have we used the telephone to communicate love and friendship to those clos­est to us? Have we used technol­ogy to turn time into holi­ness? The Talmud tells us that we are obligated to search out the science of our world. In­deed, but we must do so in order to make the world more Divine, our relationships more sacred and our lives more meaningful.

Let Jewish Standard Time mean that we make technology further God's purpose on earth every second of every day.
If every Jewish family made this commit­ment, indeed the Earth would rotate with joy on its axis.

Life After Death
Many times I am asked the question, "What happens after I die In this article, I would like to raise a differ­ent and perhaps a more important question, "What happens to me after a loved one dies, even as I live?"

A story is told about two passengers on a bus along a bumpy back road in the South. In one seat a wispy old man sat holding a bunch of fresh flowers. Across the aisle was a young girl whose eyes came back again and again to the
man's flowers. The time came for the old man to get off. Impulsively he thrust the flowers into the girl's lap. "I can see you love the flowers," he explained, "and I think my wife would like for you to have them. I'll tell her I gave them to you." The girl accepted the flowers, then watched the old man get off the bus and walk through the gate of a small cemetery.
Surviving the death of a loved one is just that — "surviving." Often, those who walk through the valley of the shadow of death come out the other end and are able to climb the highest mountains. The man on the bus honored the memory of his wife by giving to another. Even in the act of mourn­ing, he did a good deed. This brought him com­fort and his deceased wife tribute. When we take the best qualities of the person who is deceased and allow those traits to enter the very fiber of our being and become part of who we are, then our loved one lives on in the deeds we perform in this life.

In the Hebrew Bible, we read of King David's death in which it says, "And David slept with his fathers... (I Kings 2: 10)." The Talmudic sages ask why the word "slept" was employed in this instance as opposed to "died?” "The answer the sage gave was that since David was survived by a son who cherished the same high ideals and values which were dear to him, David did not real­ly die. He lived on in his progeny. Therefore, David 'slept'." (Talmud Baba Batra I I 6a and Treasury of Comfort by Greenberg, p. 220)

Those who came before us sleep within our souls. The love they gave us we should, in turn, give to others. The joy they brought to so many, we should supply in abundance for those around us. Their unique spirit will always be theirs, but if we can take but a glimmer of their light and add it to ours, they live on and the world becomes that much brighter.

"What happens to me after a loved one dies, even as I live?" The answer to the question is in the last word - "live." We do have a choice of what happens to us when some­one we love dies. We, ourselves, can die spiritually or we can find a new way to live. Death does, in fact, take a part of who we are, never to be replaced again. But as sur­vivors, we also have the opportunity to look at life through a totally different lens. Certainly any of us would rather keep our old lenses, but life and death work in ways well beyond our understanding. As we don a new perspective after a death, may we continue to live in the positive spirit in which our loved one, now gone, lived.

Making Lunch Is Not as Easy as It Seems
Recently, my wife was on a business trip for several days and I had the privilege of caring for my three children all by my self.  Believe it or not, I really cherish these moments as it gives me insight into the things my wife encounters on a daily basis and it provides me a new and different way of relating to my children. 

So of all the activities and all the logistics, I learned the most from making their lunches for school every day.  First and foremost, they attend Tarbut v’Torah Jewish Day School that requires the lunches to be kosher.  We keep kosher style within our home, but in the very act of making lunches I had to be cognizant of my tradition and what it required of me.
While my three children come from the same father and mother, they have absolutely three different approaches to life, and in particular, to tastes of food.  You might be laughing, but I had to consider what kind of sandwich each kid would enjoy, what he/she would actually eat and what would be nutritious.  All of my kids eat peanut butter and jelly – a perfect solution, ah….but we are not allowed to have peanut butter at school because of the allergy affects on some children (which is totally understandable). But this fact does not make my job as the preparer of the lunches any easier.  So I decided to begin with the snacks.  The notes my wife left me said the following.  “One child likes snacks that are salty.  Another child likes snacks that are sweet and the third child does not like anything crunchy.”  After reading the note, I went back to thinking about the sandwiches.   By the way, this was just the first day.  Forty five minutes later, I finally completed my task of making three lunches and three snacks.

So I drove the kids to school and at about 8:20, twenty minutes after I dropped them off, I receive a call from school informing me that one of the children left their lunch at home.  As the dutiful father, I got into my car, drove home then to school, dropped off the lunch and then proceeded back to the office.

After picking them up from their after school program, we made our way home and I had the privilege of unpacking their backpacks.  To my great surprise and after much thought, deliberation and care – one sandwich was left uneaten, one snack bag had not even been opened and one drink had spilled all over the bottom of the backpack, ruining that night’s homework.

To be perfectly honest, I was a bit hurt that I had spent so much time, effort and soul in putting together these nutritious meals for my children and they had on some level disregarded my brilliant array of treats that I had prepared for them from my heart.

Now here comes the real rub – I had to do it all again for next day!

Eight Lessons learned from making lunches:

1. Sometimes, it is the effort that counts and not the response to the effort.
2. Parenting, at any level, is about constant giving, which cannot be based on wanting to be thanked or acknowledged for your goodness.
3. I have a deeper appreciation for single parents and parents whose primary responsibility is taking care of the daily tasks of child rearing.  They are truly heroes.
4. It is good to consider Judaism in the decisions we make – from the food we eat to the way in which parent to the values we express.
5. Never put a bottle with a cap in your child’s lunch – it will inevitably spill for lack of being closed.  So too we mustn’t put our disappointment, anger or pain into our children, for that too will spill over and ruin whatever the goal is for that particular moment.
6. Preparing meals for another is indeed a great sign of love, but it is not the only way. 
7. In preparing lunches for successive days, even though the first day had gone so poorly (for me), I learned that life constantly provides us with opportunities to improve upon what we have done.  Life allows us to try again and again and again.  I could have ordered hot lunches for them on those following days, but that would have been giving up on an opportunity to move ahead spiritually and otherwise for me.
8. Forty five minutes, I have now been informed, is quite a long time to make three lunches.  However, there was a part of me that cherished those moments as an chance for me to really consider the individuality of each of my children (So you are asking, “Well, Rabbi, then why not make lunches even why your wife is at home?”  I am not sure I cherished that much!)

The ancient Rabbis taught that Torah was like nourishment for the soul and without it, one would hunger for spirituality.  Making lunches for my children was my Torah and from it, I have been fed spiritually. 

Missing the Boat Creates Opportunities of a Lifetime
Tanya Bank, a student at Columbia University, tells the following story in Chicken Soup for the  Jewish Soul:

"In 1910,Abraham Bank, my great-grandfather, was impressed into the Russian army. At the
time, he was 21 years old and had lived near Vilna, in Latvia for his entire life. He was a qualified rabbi, shochet (person who makes meat kosher), and a mohel. The prospect of 25 years of manda­tory military service was unthinkable to Abraham. So he decided to pack a few clothes and personal belongings and leave his hometown during the night. He promised that he would write.

Abraham traveled via Finland to Stockholm, Sweden, where he worked for a while as a steve­dore. He earned his passage to London where he continued to work. His goal was to earn enough money to follow in the footsteps of his brother, who had already emigrated to America.  Two years after leaving his home in Latvia, Abraham was finally able to buy a ticket on a ship leaving from Southampton that would take him from England to America.

Abraham ran into two difficulties. The first was the knowledge that he would not be able to get kosher food in the steerage class of the ship. The second was the trouble he would have in getting from London to Southampton over Passover, as the holiday ended on the night before the ship would be boarding.

Finally, Abraham decided not to use his ticket. He remained in London for a few months and then immigrated to South Africa, where eight years later Rebecca joined him. It was not until 1987 that Abraham's descendants — his grandson (my father) and his family — made the move to America that Abraham had come so close to mak­ing 75 years earlier.
I have good cause to be grateful to my great-grandfather for deciding not to use that ticket all those years ago. In fact, it might well have been the best decision he ever made. The name of the ship that steamed into the Atlantic that day was the Titanic.

I suppose this is the definition of "missing the boat," or is it? When we miss opportunities, often times we lament and fret over "what could have been." But it does not have to be that way. In fact, there may be a silver lining to the cloud that rises from a missed experience. Abraham certain­ly felt that way.

Life is a series of opportunities and missed oppor­tunities. Even when we seemingly make the "right" choices of how to deal with those experi­ences, they don't always turn out the way we expected. One of the many lessons this story teaches us is that in life there are things that hap­pen that are way out of our human control. What defines us as human beings, though, is how we react to that which is presented to us. Great-Grandfather Abraham valued his tradition so much that he made certain choices that held him back from taking the trip. What choice would he have had, had he taken the trip?

Moses, our Biblical ancestor, was the best at taking the worst of a situation and making it into some­thing of meaning and power. Yes, the Israelites schlepped in the desert for 40 years, but Moses ensured that they became stronger and more res­olute as each day passed. Moses was slow of speech, which became an opportunity for his brother, Aaron, to take on some leadership responsibility. Every door that was closed to Moses, he would open up a new one and if that did not lead him to a worthy destination, he would lead his people still yet to other doors.

Let us travel the path of opportunity and make the best decision we can at the time, given all the information we have. If we regret a decision we have made, let us learn from it, grow from it and try to make it still a choice in which there is some inherent meaning. That is our challenge as human beings and as Jews. Some bad decisions we make are the best decisions we will ever make in our lives.

Must Pain Accompany Growth?
As a father of young children, it is not uncommon for children to complain about their bones aching, or the joints being sore. Their mother and I often respond, "Don't worry, those are just growing pains,” as if the two go hand and hand. Truth is, that often the two do go hand and hand. Certainly there can be pain without growth, but is there ever growth without some pain? Think of all the moments of life in which we grew the most—my guess is that many of those moments, if not all, came from times of challenge, difficulty or pain. If we live long enough, we will experience trying events. What defines us as human beings is how we handle those moments. We cannot control that which happens to us, but we can control how we respond to such events. Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, famous abolitionist from the 19th Century, once wrote, "God asks no man whether he will accept life. That is not the choice. You must take it. The only question is how."

Indeed, each of us faces days of trial and moments of pain. How we choose to work through those experiences is, in large part, the definition of our humanity. The answers may be Godly, but the choice to get there is ours and ours alone. Being created in the Divine Image, as we are taught in the Book of Genesis, is not to suggest that we are God, only that God has provided us a resource on which to draw. When times are tough and when pain is all around, we have the ability to tap into that Divine Image in which we were created. This is a gift beyond measure for it can raise us above the pain, focus our thoughts and provide us the direction to move from pain to pleasure. "The only question is how?" asked Beecher. That is the human choice. God does not decide for us that we are going to heal from emotional difficulty; we must decide that for ourselves. But choices for goodness, healing, productivity, and for positive move­ment that we make can bring the Divine pres­ence to our own lives.

When I was a rabbi in Cincinnati, I had the honor of coming to know a member of my Congregation named Carol. Now, in her eighties, she is a survivor (in every sense of the word) of the Holocaust, losing her siblings and both her parents to the horrors of that time. She married and had three beautiful daughters. Her husband died after many years of marriage, but never enough years. One daughter died in a freak skiing accident and another to the terror of cancer. Carol remarried and shared life with her second husband for more than a decade and a half, and he too died, leaving her in disbelief once again. While the pain in Carol's life has been overwhelming and one would think, insur­mountable, Carol has managed to turn each of those experiences into learning moments and takes them as opportunities for growth.

She and I would often contemplate the question of "why?" but then we would quickly move on to simply ask, "What can we learn from this?" "How can we turn this terrible tragedy into a constructive end for us and for others?" To be sure, Carol has cried an ocean of tears throughout her years of challenge. But her constant mantra to me was always, "Rabbi, I am so blessed to have a wonderful daughter, a terrific Congregation and friends who care for me. I thank God for the many years I had with my family, even though they cannot share today with me."  Carol is a model for turning pain into growth. Her humanity is real and her ability to touch the depths of the Divine Image in which she was created is amazing.

May each of us, whose difficulties are less than or either more than Carol's, be able to transform the pain we suffer into growth for us and those we love. We all have that God given ability—if we only we choose it.

Respect + Empathy + Communication = Love
A woman who had been mar­ried many years once wrote, "Although a bright and able man, my husband is almost completely helpless when faced with even the simplest domestic chore. One day, in exasper­ation, I pointed out to him that our friend, Bea, had taught her husband, Frank, to cook, sew, and do laundry; and that if anything ever happened to Bea, Frank would be able to care for himself." She then asked her husband, "What would you do if anything hap­pened to me?"

After considering that possi­bility for a moment, she wrote, "my husband said happily, 'I'd move in with Frank."'
When we think about what sustains relationships, there are so many possibilities. We are all familiar with the phrases, "opposites attract" or that "women like to marry men like their fathers and men like to marry women like their mothers." There are many theories as to what makes rela- tionships click, and no one theory is right. However, if I were a betting man, I would put my money on a few basics. In general, opposites do not attract, rather respect for an individual attracts. In general, empathy for another's soul is critical for any successful, deep relationship. And I have come to understand and learn that those two components are only functional when people communicate with one anoth­er. These, of the many components of relationships, are not bound only to long marriages. Think of your long term friendships, your siblings, those with whom your are closest – respect­ing one another and empathizing with each other both through communication are essential pieces to the puzzle of successful relationships. Certainly they are not the only components, but they indeed are powerful ones.

Aretha Franklin once sang, "All I'm askin' (ooo) is for a little respect when you come home (just a little bit). R-E-S-P-E-C-T." The Talmudic rabbis had such a field day with the word and idea of "Respect" that it is used 4879 times in the Talmud. The word "Shalom (Peace)" for example is used 1890 times. Respect is a big deal in Judaism – but what does it really mean to respect someone? It means listen­ing to them, when you have no more energy to hear a thing. It means being honest with them, but doing it with kindness. It means expressing uncon­ditional love even when you disagree or are disappointed. Respecting anoth­er human being is the ultimate acknowledgement that we were all created in God's image. Martin Luther King used to teach "Injustice anywhere is injustice everywhere." So, too, when one person disrespects another, the human race is disrespected.

A man once walked into a bookstore and asked the woman behind the counter, "Have you got a book called, Man, the Master of Women?"

The woman replied, "Try the fiction section."

We might continually create structures that help us live our lives, but if respect is not at the base of that structure, the relationship most surely will fall someday. 4879 times respect is mentioned. Guess how many times the word "love" is mentioned in the Talmud? 278. Love is not all that important to successful relationships, but boy, respect sure is. The 19th Century author Maurice Jacobs wrote, "Respect is not the root from which love grows, but the elm on which it creeps up and brings forth its precious blossoms." So many of our relationships are founded in that tree of life and respect. From it, love will blossom, companionship will grow, and life will flourish.

One of the biggest complaints we hear on Dr. Phil, I am told, is when a spouse says to his or her partner, "I talk, but you just don't hear me." It is interesting, I believe every human being has the potential to sympathize; that is to hear one's issues and have a vague understanding of their circum­stances. Deep-rooted relationships require more than sympathy for the roots to take hold so that that rela­tionship might grow. This seed is known as empathy. "Empathy" is defined in the dictionary as "the action of  understanding, being aware of, being sensitive to, and vicariously experienc­ing the feelings of another person without necessarily going through the same experience." Simply put, sympathy is seen in the person who states, "Oh I know how you feel," without really knowing or taking the time to know. Empathy, however, is expressed in the person who says, "Tell me how you are feeling,” and then attempts to understand what those feelings must be like with which to live.

Jeanne Knape, an author on our modern culture, shares this story.

One afternoon I toured an art museum while waiting for my husband to finish a business meeting. I was looking forward to a quiet view of the masterpieces.

A young couple viewing the paintings ahead of me chattered non­stop between themselves. I watched them a moment and decided she was doing all the talking. I admired his patience for putting up with her con­stant parade of words. Distracted by their noise, I moved on.

I encountered them several more times as I moved through the various rooms of art. Each time I heard her constant gush of words, I moved away quickly.

I was standing at the counter of the museum gift shop making a pur­chase when the couple approached the exit. Before they left, the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a white object. He extended it into a long cane and then tapped his way into the coatroom to get his wife's jacket.

"He's a brave man," the clerk at the counter said. "Most of us would give up if we were blinded at such a young age. During his recovery, he made a vow his life wouldn't change. So, as before he and his wife come in whenever there's a new art show."

"But what does he get out of the art?" I asked. "He can't see:' 

"Can't see! You're wrong. He sees a lot. More than you or I do," the clerk said. "His wife describes each painting so he can see it in his head"
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This young woman had such empathy for her husband that—well the story speaks for itself. When you fall, and your spouse or friend is there to help you up; when you cry and they cry with you, not because they sympathize with your sadness, but because they feel your pain; when you empathize with each other in the joy of parenting and the struggle of doing it right; then empa­thy lives and relationships flourish. One of my favorite Shakespeare teach­ings and writings is this,"The quality of mercy is not strained; it dropeth as the gentle rain from heaven; upon the place beneath; it is twice blessed; it blesseth him that giveth and him that taketh."

When another shows us empathy, we are blessed and so, too, are they for their quality of mercy and giving, for it nourishes us as the rain feeds the soil of the earth.

What is the vehicle for deliv­ering respect and empathy – it is com­munication. Talking is a good place to start. But there are so many other forms of communication that married couples know better than most. Wives can tell if their husbands have had a rough day by the way they walk in the house and the way the door sounds when it closes. Husbands can communicate respect by doing the dishes. Friends can demonstrate empa­thy by giving you the right glance or smile just when you needed it. Respect and empathy do not and will not happen in a vacuum. It is impossi­ble. But they are best applied through the spoken word. The Talmud teach­es that "it is as hard to arrange a good marriage as it was to part the Red Sea (Talmud: Sotah 2a)." God had to instruct Moses with words to make the sea do its miracle. So, too, people must speak with one another to share in the miracle of empathy and respect which are two key components in the equation we call love.

The next time your spouse says to you, "What would you do?" Don't answer – I would move in with Frank," but rather say, "I respect what you are saying and empathize with your feelings dear."

Tying the Knot
Most of my waking moments, I am dressed in a shirt and tie and suit. I can put a tie on faster than any human I know. However, on occasion the tie can become askew on my col­lar angling to one side or the other. Here is the interesting part: It is with­out fail that within an hour of putting on my tie someone with whom I come in contact will approach me and attempt to adjust my tie to put it in the center of my collar. I find this to be fascinating. My wife and my mother don't do this, but many others feel a responsibility to set me straight, to make me perfect. I often comment, "Hey, I am little off-center anyway!" Why? Why do so many people feel a need to tie a knot and then perfectly place it? Our world is not like this. Our lives are not like this. Human exis­tence is not like this – why should my tie be? Many of us have difficulty with imperfection.

And yet, none of us are per­fect. We are all askew in one way or another. This is a fact of life, but it is a fact that some find hard to believe. People strive for perfection, which, in and of itself, is a worthy goal, but we should not be disillusioned when we fall short of that perfection. The trick is to be just a little farther ahead than we were when we started the journey. A friend recently told me a story about when she was in one of our children's classrooms and she overheard a par­ent say to the teacher, "Where is my child ranked in math and reading in the class?"
The teacher responded, "He is somewhere near the top."

The parent retorted, "Well, that is not good enough. He has to be number one! He must be at the top and we will settle for nothing else or we will pull him from this class!"  This is perfection taken to an unreasonable end.
In reading the book, The Spirituality of Imperfection, this storyistold:

One day a rabbi, in a frenzy of religious passion, rushed in before the ark, fell to his knees, and started beat­ing his breast crying, "I'm nobody! I'm nobody!"  The cantor of the synagogue, impressed by this example of the spir­itual humility, joined the rabbi on his knees, saying, "I'm nobody! I'm nobody!" The shamus (the caretaker) watching from the corner couldn't restrain himself either. He joined the other two on his knees, calling out, "I'm nobody. I'm nobody!" At which point the rabbi, nudging the cantor with his elbow, pointed at the shamus and said, "Look who thinks he's nobody!" While perfection can be taken to unreasonable ends, so too can humility, for it also has its limits. One should not be so humble as to think he or she is nobody. And neither should one feel that he or she is everything. Our duty on earth is to explore our fullest potential of our God-given gifts. What is important to remember, though, is that none of us is God. Only God is God and only God is perfect. If we were to understand the full nature of God's goodness then indeed we would reach perfection, but that is the difference between God and humanity. We struggle to reach the Garden of Eden and God already created it.

Working hard towards our goals can bring meaning to our lives. Beating ourselves up for not reaching some of them can be unfair. We need to give ourselves a break. Perfection is for the perfect – and I have yet to meet a perfect person.
Our lives are a work of art, painted with varying brush strokes and brilliant colors. But if one looks hard enough, that picture will certainly have imperfections. In fact, I just learned the other day that even a "flawless dia­mond" indeed has flaws.

Let's continue bringing mean­ing to our days by striving to be the best we can be and realizing that the determinedness to reach the destina­tion is often more important than actually reaching the destination. This will keep us humble and ambitious at the same time.

So when people approach me to fix my tie, I intend to ask them, "Aren't you, too, a bit askew?"

We Live In God
A young child said to me recently, "Did you know that people live in God?" I replied, "You mean that God lives in people, don't you?"

"No, no—I mean that people live in God" When I asked the child to further explicate, he simply stood his ground, feeling this need­ed no more explanation.

For weeks now, I have pondered his words. Children have an insight into God that adults do not.  The innocence of a child balanced against the wisdom and experience of an adult, when it comes to fully appreciating and knowing God, seems to be inverse. How is it that adults experience God? As many people are reading this article, that is how many answers to the question there will be.

Nonetheless, I am fascinated by this boy's insight that we live in God. Although he offered no theological explanation, I will attempt one. If God created the world and put everything into motion (God could be still active or not at all), then all created things are God and hence, living on earth, we live in God's creation; we live in God. The Zohar, the Kabbalistic text of centuries ago, states that, "God is the space of the world:'   And Psalm 24 states, "The earth is the Lord's, and all that fills it; the world, and those who dwell in it.” If we accept the premise that we live in God, as opposed to God living in each of us, the potential for goodness, righteousness, grace and love is limitless. The Jewish Tradition teaches that God, in fact, is limitless. As Baruch Spinoza (17th Century Philosopher from Holland) wrote, "Eternity is the very core of God:' God is forever and we cannot, even with our great human intelligence, com­prehend the "everythingness" of the Eternal One. Our purpose of living in the midst of such Greatness is to understand that which we can understand of God and
then try to  emulate it.”

In this sense, our moral and ethical development is as much nature as it is nurture—living in God, we can never get away from the example of goodness set before us.  Children live in God as often we see their truest selves in their words and deeds. They often speak candidly about their feelings and thoughts (the old adage:'out of the mouth of babes!" seems apropos here) ... God is all around them and they are moved to do things that amaze us, baffle us and leave us in wonder. Do we all live in God or is that reserved simply for children? In the days and months ahead, inspired by this young boy's comment, I am going to try to live in God instead of packaging and storing God only inside me. Feel free to try with me—who knows what will come out of our mouths or what deeds we will perform?