From the Desk of
Rabbi David Lyon
May 4, 2007
A National Day of Prayer was observed in Houston, yesterday. A long list of religious leaders participated. I did, too. Funny thing, the day before, I got a phone call from a Jewish woman who is not a Temple member who resented my participation in the program. Actually, “resented” might be too mild to describe her feelings. She told me that it was a program for Christians, and that Jews and Jewish leaders had no business being there. She didn’t know that a rabbi would be present in the White House when President Bush spoke on this National Day of Prayer. Her reason for her resentment, she told me, was that as a young girl living in a small town, she was regularly beaten and chided for being Jewish. It’s better to “keep quiet,” she said. That I might offer a prayer, a Jewish prayer, of course, was no consolation to her.
Sensitive to her feelings and to my own, I explained that when I was small boy my family lived in Skokie, Illinois. It was not only a predominantly Jewish suburb of Chicago, it was also the site of an infamous Nazi march (1976) that brought out many leaders who protested their presence in a Jewish community, and others who defended the Nazis’ freedom of speech. As a teenager then, and as part of a post-Holocaust generation, I didn’t live only in fear; I also lived with a mandate, “Never again!” I was taught and I knew for myself that to remain silent for any reason served no purpose; and, to remain indifferent was the worst evil of all.
The invitation to participate in National Prayer Day would be, I thought, an opportunity to represent Beth Israel in the community. Its place in Houston, now reaching 154 years, is profound. It and its spiritual leader should be present when clergy gather just as they have done for decades. Currently, I serve on community boards and advisory committees, including the United Way and Interfaith Ministries, respectively. Sometimes I represent the congregation to be sure that justice is attained despite others’ religious teachings. Most of the time, I represent the congregation in cooperation with spiritual leaders of other faith traditions. National Prayer Day was one of those times when, despite my lone Jewish presence, I demonstrated that this is a community of faiths, in the plural, and that as Jews who do pray, and whose prayers are heard by God, we have a place there, too. Had no one in the Jewish community been invited then I would have made my own phone calls, because it would have been, frankly, a departure from the norm in Houston. We are, in fact, a uniquely cooperative interfaith community. Although the National Day of Prayer has been co-opted by some conservative Christian groups in the past, it was not the way it was represented to me now, in the present.
Each of us has a unique Jewish story and experience from childhood. They influenced many of the choices you and I have made since then. For me, my childhood taught me that being present is much more important than being absent. Serving with others opens the way to being heard and to being understood. I wasn’t raised to be quiet and in the background. As the youngest of four children, how could I be? I know my place. I know my way around. My prayer for the leaders of our nation and for Israel, was well-received. (The prayers are reprinted for you at the end of this letter.)
To the caller who registered her complaint, I suggested that we might agree to disagree. She didn’t agree to that, either. She added that my participation with Christians there demonstrated my need to be more like them and less like a Jew. For one who said she was a quiet person who wished to remain in the background, I thoughtfully explained that she had just reached her boundary with me. I wished her well and ended the conversation.
I am not unaware that we live in a predominantly Christian nation; but, were it not for the meaningful place of the Jewish people here and elsewhere, our world, in my opinion, would be far less complete than it is. At the end of the National Day of Prayer service, I offered my own silent prayer, “Baruch Atah, Adonai, She’asani Yisrael,” Praised are You, Adonai, Who has made me a Jew.
From my desk to yours, Shabbat Shalom.
DAL
National Day of Prayer
May 3, 2007
Rabbi David Lyon
Congregation Beth Israel
Houston, Texas
On this National Day of Prayer, the stage is filled with religious leaders whose faithful words reflect their commitment to the difference prayer can make. As a leader of Congregation Beth Israel, a synagogue that has been present in Houston for over 150 years, I am proud to stand where my predecessors, Rabbi Karff, Rabbi Schachtel, and Rabbi Barnston, once took their place in our great city to demonstrate the power of the human heart in prayer. When the human heart is ready, the power of prayer can turn us towards each other in our mutual effort to foster peace at home and around the world. My daily prayer praises God, Who hears my prayer and the prayers of all God’s children. Everyone prays because everyone hopes. Hope is connected to the future. We all pray that in our own day there will be more love, greater justice, and lasting peace.
In the days when our country was still laying its cornerstones, freedom was a dream that was not enjoyed by all its inhabitants. In 1751, in Philadelphia, the Liberty Bell was first commissioned and a Biblical verse was inscribed on it which expressed our national hope. The verse came from the Hebrew Bible, in the Book of Leviticus 25:10: “Proclaim Liberty throughout the land for all its inhabitants.” Liberty is still a dream for some inhabitants among us; we have more work to do. In each of our particular faith traditions, we give expression to our universal hope that in our nation all people shall know freedom. I believe that in Houston, unlike any other city in America, where peoples of all faiths and ethnic backgrounds really do come together, we can find common ground and see each other for who we really are: children of God, equals before the Lord. Our prayer, and, therefore, our hope, today, is that God will be our partner Who guides us “only to do justice, to love goodness and to walk humbly with God” (Micah 6:8).
To achieve the American dream in this age of globalization, our prayers must also reach beyond the border of our nation. Our prayers must reach those who stand with us this day and those who do not. Our hope is that our prayer may turn the hearts of our enemies towards us in peace, so that compromise may replace conviction, and dialogue may replace determination.
The seeds of peace have been sown in the foundations of our nation’s principles and in the prophetic words of our respective faith traditions. On this National Day of Prayer, it is my privilege to offer these prayers for our nation and its leaders, and for our partners in peace in the Middle East.
For Our Nation and Its Rulers
We pray for all who hold positions of leadership and responsibility in our national life. Let Your blessing, O God, rest upon them, and make them responsive to Your will, so that our nation may be to the world an example of justice and compassion. Deepen our love for our country and our desire to serve it. Strengthen our power of self-sacrifice for our nation’s welfare. Teach us to uphold its good name by our own right conduct. Cause us to see clearly that the well-being of our nation is in the hands of all its citizens; imbue us with zeal for the cause of liberty in our own land and in all lands; and help us always to keep our homes safe from affliction, strife and war. Amen (CCAR, Gates of Repentance, p.218-19).
A prayer for the Protection of our Partners in Peace in the Middle East (Israel)
We pray for our partners in peace in the Middle East and for the undying strength of those who stand with us in the Land of Israel. This small sliver of democracy deserves our prayers. Let us pray that Israel’s borders will know peace, and its inhabitants, tranquility. And may the bonds of faith and fate which unite the peoples of America and Israel be a source of strength to us all. God of all lands and ages, answer our constant prayer with a world of peace, and a nation once more aglow with light for us and for all the world. Amen. (ed. from CCAR, GOR, p.219)
Dear God, may Your presence remind us of the uniqueness of all your creations, and the goodness that you created in each one. Only we see the differences between us; therefore, help us honor ourselves and every human being, that we may, thereby, honor You.
Amen and Amen.