Some Boundaries Should Be Crossed - Great Neck Shabbat Project 5775

When I was a little boy, my parents often took my sisters and me on trips and we would all sit together in the car.  Sometimes we got along and sometimes there were, shall I say, interpersonal challenges.

Especially when one of us crossed over the date-line.  The date-line was the term we used for an imaginary boundary that separated one person’s space from another.

Years later, we joked about “crossing the date-line” but at the time, it was no laughing matter.

Boundaries are important.  One of the first things we human beings discover is where we end and others begin. This is my toy.  That’s your toy.  Understanding when “not to cross the line” is crucial. 

One day, I will devote a conversation to the importance of maintaining certain boundaries.  God knows, there are ample instances of individuals – including political and religious leaders – crossing boundaries they should not cross, violating people’s privacy, exerting inappropriate power over those who are vulnerable.  

This morning, I want to talk about the positive benefit that can come from crossing boundaries in a healthy way, from sneaking out of our comfort zones, getting to know people we don’t ordinarily get to know, looking at the world through a different lens than we already do.

Learning How to Hope: A Message for the New Year 5775

Deanna and I were in Jerusalem for most of July, during a large portion of the conflict with Gaza.  Several times we experienced what Israelis experience with far greater frequency.  We heard a siren indicating that a rocket was about to land and knew that we had a little over a minute to try to find a secure place to stay.  One time we were in the street and ran into a friend’s apartment.  Another time we were in the street and ran into a supermarket and huddled near the dairy section, where we distracted ourselves by noting how many different types of cheese there are in a typical Israeli market. 

For me personally, the moments of running to a relatively safe place and waiting to see what happened next were a jumble of thoughts and feelings.

Wondering what’s going on.  Feeling helpless.  Thinking of our children thousands of miles away.  And the quiet, but pressing thought, I hope we’ll be ok.

A few years ago on the high holidays I spoke about fear.  Crossing the Golden Gate Bridge, or not quite.

For many reasons, I thought it was important this year to speak about hope, in some sense the counterpart to fear.

Hope is an interesting thing.  I’m not quite sure how to characterize it.  It’s not quite an action and it’s not quite an emotion.  When we are anxious about something, we hope it will turn out ok.  Sometimes in general we say, “I hope everything will be ok,” even though we know that’s kind of unrealistic. 

We hope all the time. But what does hope actually mean?  To what extent is it helpful, to what extend is it a painful exercise in self-delusion?

Hope is crucial, but perhaps we need to reconsider the way we hope.  At the start of the New Year 5775, I propose that we reconsider what it means to hope when it comes to the international and the national, the political and the personal.