I lost patience recently and directed some unkind words toward my mother. She asked are you mad at me because I haven’t been feeling well? That soul-searing question reminded me of Torah’s lessons about parent-child relationships.

Torah states that the person who “curses” a father or mother shall be put to death. I doubt that Torah meant for such a harsh result. In biblical times, such a death would have been by stoning. The medieval commentator Ibn Ezra suggested that this rule applies only to a curse that invokes God’s name. By that limiting understanding, the prohibition is about reverence for God.

On the other hand, modern translations state that one who “insults” his father or mother shall be put to death. The broader translation lowered the standard for stoning. As I may have insulted a parent on a rare occasion, I am troubled by this translation.

In the ten commandments, Torah directs us toward always honoring our parents. Consistently honoring parents may seem an unrealistic directive. The parent-child relationship is often highly emotional and sometimes troubling. Some parents may not be deserving of respect. Their children struggle with the obligation to assist an abusive and aging parent.

The challenge of caring for parents has been a mixture of love and sacrifice, dedication and frustration. Even in “normal times” adult children of aging parents suffer as well. Those adult children seem to become a parent to their own parents. The role reversal alone is unsettling even for the healthiest of family relationships.

Assisting older parents during this pandemic tests the mettle of many adult children. Every action to assist an elderly parent is more complicated and emotionally agitating. We battle to make doctor appointments, show up for telehealth sessions, and second-guess the need to go to an overcrowded hospital. Everything that was routine is now complex. The kindest and most caring of adult children lose their cool under trying circumstances. Sadly, the easiest target for expressing frustration and disappointment is the elderly parent.

As the adult child caring for a parent in the time of covid, I’ve had to navigate what the Torah demands of me. The stress of being a caretaker in a time of covid can make the saintliest child a bit of a sinner. The task is hard, the day is long and the job is never done. Please forgive me mom if I offer an unkind word or get impatient. I might do it again. Yet, I’ll try to remember what I think Torah teaches; honoring a parent is supposed to be like honoring our relationship with God.

Rabbi Evan J. Krame

Our brains are marvelous and mixed-up memory banks. However, memory is often inaccurate. We recall events through a lens of life experience. Like an artist choosing their medium and palette, the virtuosity of remembering is subjective.

Nobel Prize winner Daniel Kahneman explained memory is an experience recalled. Every occurrence in our lives begins as an experience and is recalled as a memory.  Yet, memories of the same experience can differ widely. As a result, people clash over their recollections. “We do not choose between experiences, we choose between memories of experiences.”

In Torah this week, Parshat Beshalach, the Hebrew people came to the Red Sea. Unable to imagine a way forward they panicked. Even though they experienced the miracle of ten plagues, their memory of those events was not sufficiently inspiring to overcome their fears. They could not become a faithful flock because their psyche was impaired and their judgment diminished.  The Hebrews had a slave mentality which clouded their memories. They lost faith in God’s awesome power when confronted with another obstacle. Their memories of the miracles they experienced did not activate hopefulness. Rather, the people complained to Moses that they should have stayed in Egypt!

As the story progressed, God performed another astonishing miracle. The waters of the Red Sea parted. New miracle, old framing. Shortly after crossing the sea, the people again complained, this time about the lack of food. Again they questioned why they left Egypt!

The Hebrews experienced God’s miracles, but their memory was impaired by their lack of faith. After all, the condition of a slave is capitulation and hopelessness. Without a framework of faith, they could only anticipate further powerlessness and desperation. The Hebrews could not transform the memory of experience into a positive approach toward the future.

Kahneman’s explanation of how memory is employed may be crucial to healing the rifts in our country. While reflecting on the January 6 insurrection last week, I was baffled as to how people experienced the same event at the Capitol and yet described the participants with different recollections. Were the people entering the Capitol vigilantes or visitors? Terrorists or tourists?

The background of my American canvas is a functioning democratic system with opportunities for advancement.  However, the canvas is tinted with my fears of racism and anti-Semitism.  Accordingly, I recall January 6 as an insurrection of white supremacists who threatened our democracy. Is my memory accurate? Millions of other Americans recall a justifiable demonstration, born of frustration at a stolen election. Same event, different memories. The key to understanding this discord is to figure out how these contrasting memories evolved.

The Torah of America teaches that we cherish life, protect liberty, and pursue happiness. The American Torah states that all are created equal.  Even with the miracles of a free nation, triumphant over enemies, and abundant in resources, many have lost faith in this democratic experiment.

Our Torah describes a lack of faith by our Hebrew ancestors, not unlike our current American experience. Our collective challenge is to restore everyone’s faith in the ideals upon which America was crafted. Maybe then our shared experiences will meld into one life-affirming memory that becomes the backdrop for a free, just, and safe United States.

Rabbi Evan J. Krame

The last twenty-two months have been tough. We are drained, stressed, and scared. Rather than be frozen in fear, ask a forward-looking question. What can we do to improve these precious lives we have?

Many of us feel stuck in “crisis” mode. Waves of infections and new variants plague us. Our world has narrowed, both territorially, economically, and politically. Perhaps you feel that our best days are behind us.

Instead, we could prepare to move to the next stage of an endemic or post-pandemic life more effectively. What will that take? Careful discernment and courage are key. How do I know? I read the Torah.

God spoke to Moses, directing him on how to lead the Hebrews out of Egypt. “Tell them I am the God of their ancestors.”  “Tell them I will rescue them on eagles’ wings!” Moses shared the news, but the people could not listen. Why? Because their souls were crushed by bondage. They had lived too long in the narrowness of Egyptian enslavement. When the soul is crushed, people are at the bottom of their reserves.  And so the Hebrew slaves were too demoralized to hear Moses’ message from God. Only after a series of miracles did the people finally regain hope and imagine the future.

We are not bound up in enslavement, but we are experiencing the sort of calamity that can crush the soul. And yet we can persevere by adjusting our short-term goals and thinking about longer-term strategies.

The first step is to appreciate the many wonders of our times. The development and distribution of a vaccine in record time. The technology to diagnose, test, and track the disease. The miracle of cable television made difficult times more bearable. Who could imagine that we could order anything delivered to our front porch? Do you remember life before Zoom?

The second step is to acknowledge how you are feeling. The CDC website says “Notice and accept how you feel. Taking care of your emotional health during an emergency will help you think clearly and react to the urgent needs to protect yourself and your family.” Making time for self-care now will aid in your long-term healing.

The third step is to anticipate how to live your best life even in a time of pandemic. What are the opportunities for increased downtime? In what ways can your life be more healthful? Can you better care for and inspire the people you know?

Creating a better future requires changing ourselves. Start with these steps: appreciate, accept, and advance. Because we can change crushed to crushing it!

Rabbi Evan J. Krame

The movie It’s a Wonderful Life turns 75 this year. Considered the favorite holiday movie of all time, Jews too seem to favor this classic. Perhaps we identify with the lead character, George Bailey, a most earnest soul outplayed by a ruthless rival.

George Bailey’s world is upended when a bank deposit goes missing. In every life, there will be disruptions. Some are life-changing. Sometimes these troubles are so great that we can see no good resolution. We might be so hopeless that we feel as if we are standing on a snowy bridge contemplating the jump into the icy river below.

We encounter one or more such challenges in our lifetimes. For example, Jacob in Torah endured many such predicaments. Jacob fled home when his brother, Esau, threatened his life. His oldest two sons killed the people of Shechem as an act of revenge. Jacob feared that the other neighboring tribes would exact justice on him.  Jacob’s favorite child, Joseph, was reported dead and Jacob’s grief was overwhelming. Each time Jacob could have been overcome by dread and despair.

Each of George Bailey and Jacob had guardian angels at their service. An angel named Clarence kept George Bailey safe. Jacob attributed his safe life’s journey to protective angels. In Genesis 48:16, Jacob prayed that the angels who kept him from harm, bless his descendants.

Just like my fantasies about winning the Power Ball, I sometimes imagine that there could be an angel to shield me and keep my family safe. Forget the Avengers, I want a “super angel” who can reverse any misfortune and avert any future disasters.

I hesitate to mention that I leave room for angels in my life. In the angelic realm of conversation, Jews are generally skeptical when it comes to angels.

Yet, Jewish texts often reference angels. In daily prayer, we describe and emulate the angels. Can it be that these invisible agents of God be stealthily awaiting their moment to help us?

In dark times, I may imagine myself as a latter-day George Bailey, not knowing that an angel will rescue me from harm. Yet, the movie does not teach that we should wait for angels. The lessons of the movie are these. First, be nice to everyone. Second, if you have been good to others, they will support you in your time of need. Third, never give up hope.

“It’s a Wonderful Life” teaches us not to despair and not to see ourselves as victims. With the darkest Shabbat day upon us, however bleak the world seems or sad you feel, remember that the daylight hours will again increase. And perhaps it is true, as the Talmud teaches, that two angels come to escort you on the sabbath day.

Until an angel appears to guide you, allow me to offer some sage advice.  Remember that the good that you put out in the world can come back to sustain you. You may suffer tragedies, but you should not quantify the value of your life by misfortunes suffered. God gave this life you live to you. You are a unique and extraordinary person, and your life is a precious gift. It’s a wonderful life!

Rabbi Evan J. Krame

A super-wealthy family battling each other and the world to maintain power and wealth. That is the premise of the HBO show Succession. The series is popular as it reverberates with the display of wealth and power. Those who have “it” are destined to be humbled.  Those without it, are merely fascinated viewers.

The bible has a story of a successful but troubled family.  Jacob, his wives, and sons lived in Canaan at the time of famine.  Meanwhile, in Egypt, there was plenty of corn. You may recall that Joseph had properly interpreted Pharaoh’s dreams and had prepared Egypt for a famine. Jacob learned of the bounty available in Egypt. He turned to his sons and admonished them, “Why do you keep looking at one another?”

Even before instructing his sons to go down to Egypt to purchase food, Jacob offers an ethical rebuke. Rashi, the great medieval commentator on Torah and Talmud, offers that the sons were feigning nonchalance to the famine. Their concern was how the family appeared to the neighboring tribes more than making the effort to obtain food. Jacob was wondering, “Why should everyone gaze at you and wonder at you because you do not search for food before what you have in your possession comes to an end?”

Sometimes we become obsessed with appearances. In the case of Jacob’s family, the assumption is that the brothers were so enwrapped in their status among local tribes that they hesitated to secure sufficient food supplies for the future. This biblical story presents a challenge for all of us.  Sometimes, do we worry more about appearances than we do about existential issues? Would Jacob’s sons have suffered starvation rather than search for food?

Jacob taught his sons that humility is the key to a secure future. Allowing our egos to dominate our thinking interrupts clear thought and timely action. Concern with appearances makes us hesitant to act, even when the circumstances are dire. Yet, we often only learn humility from experiences that knock us down or even challenge our survival.

After all, the haughty colorful coat-wearing Joseph who boasted of his dreams of dominance over his family became far humbler after his time in an Egyptian prison. Whether pushed into a pit or felled by famine, we are all going to learn a lesson in humility at some time in our lives. God spares no one from critical reminders that we are all unique but not special and all strong but breakable.  We all have egos, so we all need to learn humility.

When following the lives of the rich and famous, most often their downfall is arrogance. While entertaining to watch, watching the mighty fall is more than good television. The lessons of humility are a prelude to a moral message. Our lives may not measure up as biblical or fantastical, but we all suffer the misfortune of ego unchecked.

Rabbi Evan J. Krame