Posts Tagged ‘judaism’

A Love Letter to My College Bound Son

Friday, April 12th, 2013

IMG_8800SMby Sam Glaser

Dear Max,

I just booked our Summer family vacation in Lake Tahoe. It will be an amazing place to spend a week…serious mountain biking, hiking and water skiing. As excited as I am I can’t help but be a bit melancholy. I have had the great gift of being your dad for the past 18 years. You are a superstar kid and have given me nothing but nachas (Jewish joy.) I celebrate the fact that you are entering your college years with so much enthusiasm and readiness to take on the world. I believe in you, Max. There’s nothing you can’t do.

So yes, it’s our last family vacation with all of us together for a while. Too soon we’ll have our last family dinner, our last Shabbat, a rockin’ graduation party and you’ll be off to camp and then the Holy Land. What a gift to have a year in Israel before college kicks off. Dreamy. I think some parents of teens are ready to see their kids hit the road. I’m not one of those parents. I love spending time with you. My greatest memories are the time we’ve spent together. We’ve had amazing adventures, deep musical connections, great conversations. I dig all your friends and love the fact that the gang comes over every Shabbat afternoon. I have great joy being your music teacher and getting to see you grow on the guitar in Jazz Ensemble and rockin’ Pro Tools in our recording technology class. I love watching your mom look at you with unfathomable love in her eyes.

In fact, everyone that I know that has ever met you only has great things to say about you. That’s a pretty rare thing. I’ve never seen leadership ability like yours. You’ve had it all your life. You are totally comfortable in every situation that you find yourself. On my concert tours on which you’ve joined me you are connecting with the synagogue youth whether it’s Reform, Conservative or Orthodox. Your teachers and rabbis rave about you. I get to watch you every year on the Pesach programs that I lead. Mom and I just gasp at how the entourage gravitates to you and how when you move on, they move too!

You are so at ease with yourself and remarkably you wear your confidence without pushing anyone down. Working the crowd without having to be the joker or the troublemaker or the scammer. Clearly you have learned only the good side of the things from your devious dad. Other than driving too fast. You are incredible with kids and are a beloved cousin, counselor and mentor. You are so open and loving with those “specially-abled.” You are so totally there for your four beautiful grandparents. You are a wizard on the guitar, with the computer, with just about anything you do. You have gotten school wired and should have so much pride that you have excelled more and more every year, on every report card and are busting out nearly straight A’s your senior year. Do you see a certain trajectory here?

And now you’re off to the Promised Land. Oooooh you are so lucky. It is such a wild, beautiful, exciting place. A place where holiness is flowing in the very air you breathe. The opportunity for connection is so powerful and present. You will be in an amazing growth environment with rabbis and peers that will support you into your own spiritual flight. Starting your post high school educational and professional life with Jewish fundamentals makes so much sense. After all, whether you become a hedge fund manager, psychologist or rock guitarist, you will have a serious foundation in place. I first got turned on in Israel when I was just a bit older than you. I was totally ready to do great things in my life and my heart was open. It may be hard to believe but you will become even more open as you put teenage angst, LA hype and living with your parents behind you. Yes, you can spend the year partying, but if you can find the discipline you will come out of this year with a passion to maximize every moment of your time, becoming more creative, productive and the master of your destiny.

There are a few things I’ve been thinking about now that you are launching into your official Israel gap year, a tradition, thank God, for most of the young people in our community. I’m so happy that you have my brother Yom Tov and Leah and their amazing eight kids to hang out with on a regular basis. Please bond deeply with all of your cousins. They miss you so much. They have been deprived of having you in their life and deserve to get their fill of you. You will blow them away and I know that they will see what a towering mensch (real human) you are. I’m getting weepy as I write this. I’m so proud of you, Max. I love you so much. You are such a credit to our family, a living testimony that mom and I did pretty good job with you. You are an extension of us to the world. We will be living vicariously through your adventures. Please keep us posted!

You are already a powerful ambassador for the Jewish People. Everyone who sees your kippah feels your good vibe and feels good about the heritage you represent. Do you understand what an intense Kiddush Hashem (sanctification of God’s name) that is? You will likely ramp up your commitment in Israel. It’s true that many “frum out” there but not just on the surface. You just feel God’s presence so powerfully through your learning and holy lifestyle that you would never ever do anything to mess it up. You do mitzvahs not because your parents or rabbis expect something out of you. The motivation comes from an outpouring of intense love for your relationship with God. The relationship becomes palpable. Why would you ever mess up your best friend in the Universe?? You will be driven by sweet longing and unspeakable gratitude for your life and everyone you meet will be deeply attracted by the light that you radiate. Yes, you!

You also know from your hyperactive father that our Judaism doesn’t mean you have to sit on your butt and study all day. Judaism means that you are out in the world, spreading light. Yes, we’re an Orthodox family, but we ski and surf and vacation and travel and drink in everything that life has to offer. Except non-kosher wine, of course. I give you permission to get on a bus to Eilat the moment your neshama (soul) tells you you need a break. Go spend some time underwater… learn to scuba dive (as your chassidic cousin Avrami just did), mountain bike, climb, play beach volleyball (my captain of the YULA Volleyball Team!) When you have a l’chaim please have a round for your old dad back in LA – and have a designated driver.

I hope you can get to the Old City as often as you are able. Catch as many minyanim (services) at the Kotel (Western Wall) as you can. It’s the center of the universe! Try your hand at bargaining in the Arab shuk. You’ll get a kick out of Yom Tov’s 10:00am daily lecture at Aish, in a spectacular room overlooking the Temple Mount. Your zany uncle catches major air on his mountain bike as he flies down the Arab Quarter steps. He gets to his class out of breath and addresses an unusual group of hippies, deadheads, Harvard grads and grandparents with an unscripted flow of whatever is on his mind. Anyone can come to his class and it would give him great nachas to see you there. Remarkably our yeshiva, Aish Hatorah, has become the number one outreach address in the world. It has the biggest Jewish website in the world. It brings over more young people to Israel to learn than any organization in the world. I’m not saying your should ditch your program in Mevaseret but I hope you can wander the Rovah (Jewish Quarter) and get to know my old Aish rabbi friends that will be excited to meet you.

Speaking of Aish, as you know we’ve been members of Aish LA since you were born. There are plenty of other synagogues that we go to and love, but Aish is our home. It’s where you crawled around every Shabbat, where you boys had your Bar Mitzvahs, where you rock the teen minyan. What you’re going to discover is that it’s more than just a shul. It’s a movement. You’re a part of it whether you realize it or not. You have seen me and your mother dedicate much of our time, money and effort towards making sure that every Jew we meet has the chance to get excited about Judaism. It’s why you’ve had strangers at a good percentage of your Shabbat meals. It’s why I leave you to go on the road every other weekend. We love sharing our heritage and it breaks our heart when our fellow Jews throw it away.

In my secular upbringing, I was raised with a devotion to Israel and the Jewish People but had no experience keeping kosher, davening (praying) or respecting Jewish law. It’s sad when you think about it. We had no idea what we were missing. Can you imagine your life without ever sukkah hopping? Partying up and down Pico on Purim? Surrounding yourself in the 24 hour feast that is Shabbat? We didn’t even know how to say the Shmoneh Esrai (central Jewish prayer.) Worse yet, we didn’t have clarity on God’s presence in our lives and the power of Torah to keep our act together. Thank God both your mom and I had great parents who gave us plenty of love and values. But we were in a free form “what the hell is this life all about” mystery and forced to explore the cultures of the world to find answers. Yes, there are lots of interesting answers out there, but not the fundamental truth that we celebrate in our own texts.

After my whirlwind four months in yeshiva the first time around, my mind was completely blown. I had amazing and patient guides to teach me and was mature enough to make my Yiddishkeit (Judaism) my own. I was so taken with Israel and the commitment of the people that I met there that upon returning to LA I started a Jewish library so that I’d have books to keep me connected. I became an advocate for Orthodoxy even though I wasn’t quite living it myself. I took “baby steps.” Shortly after I got back my friends started getting married. Most of my buddies with whom I grew up married non-Jews. Most of them didn’t bother getting them to convert. Our vast, 3500-year odyssey ended with them, the chain of Jewish transmission broken. They have kids who have no connection to their heritage and if they ever do connect, will have to jump through hoops to become Jewish.

I knew at that point I had to be part of the solution. I started writing Jewish songs. I met your mom and started doing Shabbas. After another trip to Israel I started wrapping tefillin and davening three times a day. Along the way I got my brothers to study over there and thank God two of them became Aish rabbis and have changed the lives of literally thousands of people. I know it’s hard for you to imagine your bubbie eating treif (non-kosher food.) She only started keeping kosher because some of her kids wouldn’t eat in her home and her reaction was, “Ain’t nobody got time for that!” Now she has sixteen Jewish grandkids who love their heritage and wouldn’t trade it for the world. I’m telling you all this so that you understand that it’s nothing short of a miracle that we are on this path and that nothing would get in our way of giving you this rich Jewish life that has so nourished you. Yes, Jewish day school has left us broke. But we feel like we’ve won the lottery.

Not to overdo the accolades for our shul but I think it’s important to point out to you that the outreach revolution began with one man, Rav Noach Weinberg, zit’s, who had a vision and would not be defeated. He tried and failed several times establishing yeshivot. I think Aish is number seven. King Solomon in Proverbs tells us that the righteous fall seven times but always get back up. Thanks to Rav Noach’s tenacity, we have the incredible life that we do. Please learn from his example, Max. The sky is the limit. Dream big. Get back up when you fail. Depression is not an option. Just get back on the horse and try again. Know with perfect clarity that Hashem is with you. The days we have on this planet are too few to waste feeling sorry for yourself. Get up and get moving. Your face and your mood are public property. Don’t pollute the world with a scowl. Rav Noach always had a sweet smile for everyone and fought with grace until the end of his days. Keep the good attitude, keep the faith, keep smiling and the world will smile with you.

I hope that in your study you’ll find that there is no divide between our spiritual life and material life. We can make money in a holy way. We ski at the speed of sound because it nourishes and refreshes us. We eat only after we thank God for the miracle of our food. We are intimate with our wives and as a result deepen our marital bonds and bring holy children into the world. Living in the realm of Torah doesn’t make you a recluse or weird. You have a gift that you can share with Jews of all stripes. You have a gift that you can share with all nations. They don’t need us to try so hard to be like them. They are blessed by blessing us. Those whom you meet throughout your life will be fascinated by your story, by the things that make you different. In this politically correct world no one is allowed to “dis” people because they are different. We can use that to our advantage. We can be the best Jews we can be, living in the world, interacting and influencing and serving as a Kiddush Hashem, perhaps the highest of all mitzvot. Along the way you may meet some people who are not so excited about the Jewish People. You don’t have to be so excited about them either.

I’m telling you all this so that you get some perspective of what you are getting yourself into. This trip you are taking is not just for you or your family. Your learning is for K’lal Yisrael (the Jewish People,) for all the nations, for all those martyrs who perished in the Holocaust and other times of persecution. It’s to empower you to become a shining example of a great Jewish man, a spiritual leader that will help to bring back our disenfranchised brothers and sisters. You are truly learning when you are able to teach that particular subject. I hope you learn in order to teach. I hope you understand that it’s selfish to be complacent, to be self-satisfied while there are so many unaffiliated Jews that have no concept of the diamonds in their hands. I’m not saying you have to join any particular shul or movement. I’m just saying that you have a very unusual family and very serious passion in your veins that you have inevitably inherited. Yes, you are going to Israel to study, travel, party and make lifelong friends. You are also going to get a sense of the importance of your life’s mission, beyond just earning a living and raising a family. It’s your turn now, my beautiful son. I pray that you’ll use your vast abilities to be a hero for the Jewish people, to continue to be the powerful role model that you already are.

So, my dear Max, there’s my shpiel. There are some other things I want to discuss…we’ll save them for the next jacuzzi. Please try to break away from the computer to have a few more jams, oshkibunis (walks) and conversations with me. I treasure every minute we have together. Your friends will come and go over the course of your life…your family is forever. Make these few months meaningful. Hug your mom frequently. Try to imagine a world where she’s not cooking for you, driving you everywhere, feeding your friends, doing your laundry, making you ice chai just the way you like it. Start listing all the things she means to you and see where the resulting burst of gratitude leads you.

Please try to give love to your sister. She needs you. She needs your hugs and your compassion. She is going to miss you so much. She will be crying real tears of grief when she doesn’t have you around. You may think she’ll be fine but I promise that the gravity of the fact that you are gone for so long will profoundly affect her. You have this precious time to leave an impression. Regarding your brother Jesse, you already know that he adores you, looks up to you and so values your companionship. You guys are best friends and that fact alone has me crying again. He may not be able to express the intense bond he shares with you, but trust me, it informs his being. You have created big shoes for him to fill. You have set the bar high. Give him love and honor. Build him up and avoid words that tear him down. May you always take great pleasure in his successes in life and may he always celebrate yours.

I love you Max, Ze’ev Dov ben Shmuel, my pidyon haben, my beautiful, precious son.

Dad

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The Possible You

Wednesday, December 19th, 2012

by Sam Glaser

December is a time for new possibilities. Thanks to “holiday spirit” the world becomes a kinder, more colorful place.  I just returned from Manhattan where the midtown buildings were transformed into magnificently wrapped presents. Even the cops were friendly. December means that our fiscal year is ending and we ponder what we might do differently when January comes around.  Inclement weather demands that we spend less time outdoors, more time with inside activities that make us more internal, intellectual, introspective. The Torah portions of the season deal with dreamers; between Jacob, Joseph, the butcher, baker and Pharaoh we have eight dreams to cross-reference and inspire our own musings.  Finally, Chanukah calls on us to fill the darkest, shortest days of the year with light and we are challenged to unveil our own unique light unto the world.

Wintertime is usually high season in my tour schedule. As soon as the High Holidays are over, the synagogues and JCCs that I visit are back in cultural arts mode, peaking with the week of Chanukah when just about every institution has a celebration of some sort.  This is the period for me to live my possibilities, to fulfill this sweet life-task of creating programs of uplift and enthusiasm and deepening Jewish connections.  I’m often asked how I can get on airplanes every other weekend, leave my family yet again, pack my clothes, shlep my luggage, sleep in funky beds and subsist on bagels and cream cheese.  I often respond, “well, I have three kids in Jewish day school.”

SamPraySeattle

What’s really driving me? I’ve been averaging between 40-50 cities a year since 1997. Sixteen years later, that’s a lot of cities, a lot of flights and a lot of bagels.  The impetus for all these adventures starts with the songs.  I don’t ask for my songs. Most of them are midnight gifts that I awaken to and stumble across the house to record so that I don’t awaken my wife.  They accumulate and create an unspoken but palpable psychological pressure with an unmistakable mantra: “record me now!” Nascent songs beget the late hours of intensive concocting in my studio, which beget more albums, which beget more concert tours so that I can get them out to my beloved listeners.  My joy of singing, tickling the ivories and cajoling audiences into states of delirious Jewish happiness creates the environment for more songs and the cycle starts yet again.

Milestones tend to make us more reflective. 2012 marks the twentieth year since my first Jewish CD Hineni was released. (actually, it was on cassette…now that really dates me!) This month also marks my fiftieth birthday, on a day I’m lucky enough to share with my musical hero, Beethoven. This is truly a season of introspection for me. What are my possibilities?  How can I take this composing-performing cycle to the next level? What is the legacy I want to leave?  What can I do to combat the assimilation and indifference that I have personally witnessed over the course of my career? How can I be the best husband, son, father and friend?  How can I truly transform the universe using my unique gifts?

I had a revelation this month that I’d like to share. Sometimes when I’m interviewed by Jewish newspapers or DJs I’m asked how a Jewish music performance or workshop can effect lasting change. The fact is that I do my shtick and then hit the road, making no guarantees for the efficacy of my message.   I respond that I try to make the deepest impression possible in my concerts and workshops and then I leave a “review course” in the form of my CDs.  It is my hope that my chosen art form spins for years in cars and computers, regaling my listeners with what I like to think of as “audio Judaica.”  I also keep the channels of communication open via email and Facebook. Still, a little voice inside queries if there another way I can be part of the solution, to better uplift my audiences.

My brother, Rabbi Yom Tov Glaser has another method of inspiring transformation.  Like me, he performs and teaches for a living. But I now see that there is a tremendous difference in our approach, thanks to “The Possible You,” a powerful seminar that he has founded. He takes responsibility for every one of the attendees in his Jerusalem-based twenty-hour program.  He will work with anyone who is not getting it, and relentlessly pursue those who bail before “graduation.”  With an intensely paced delivery of profound insights coupled with music, visual aids and group sharing, a crucial set of life tools are communicated to the full spectrum of learners in all modalities.  The results are nothing short of astounding and my brother’s reputation is growing exponentially.  He has cobbled The Possible You from the wisdom of kabbalah, mussar, surfing and a variety of transformation technologies of the past several decades. It’s tailor-made for the Jewish neshama.  Now with several thousand graduates, myself included, I see The Possible You changing the world.

I’m one of his first trainees.  It’s a bit strange to take orders from my little brother.  But my sibling has become a giant and I am honored that I get to learn from him. My heart is swelling with nachas that I had a small hand in nudging him onto his path. We’re best friends.  I believe that it is natural that our trajectories on this planet are colliding, for the good of the Jewish People and the world. We’ve spent a lifetime pulling all-nighters deep in conversation regarding the transformation of the world and ourselves.  Over the years Yom Tov has sent me to various seminars to learn the language and witness the potential for this work. Finally this last week I got to see him in action firsthand.

I just spent an amazing week with my brother in the Boro Park shtetl of New York and then afterwards we met up in LA.  These were his first two Possible You seminars on US soil.  His first group was primarily Chassidic and the second was hip LA twenty-somethings.  I can’t properly describe the experience of witnessing the growth and clarity gained by such diverse audiences in such a short span of time.  Participants work in new realms of trust and commitment, connecting with truth, respect for one another, respect for themselves.

Over twenty hours, strangers become allies and loving friends, taking a stand for each other’s success in life. They open the door to estranged family members and experience real healing for wounds gathered over life’s journey. It sounds too good to be true, right?  I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t see it with my own eyes.

I’m excited to use my experience connecting with a diverse cross section of US Jewry to tweak The Possible You for North American audiences.  I’ll be offering the workshop one weekend a month starting in February 2013, primarily in LA, but also on the road in conjunction with the concerts and Shabbatons that I lead.  I’m not sure if this is the “next thing” that will fulfill my midlife urgings, but it seems like an organic extension of what I offer to the world and my unique relationship with my brother.  I hope not only to help in the lives of participants but to train others in the delivery of this unique process. Most importantly, I will be working in a new realm where I don’t just sing and split, where I can take the time to connect more deeply and take active responsibility for each participant’s progress.

I’m reminded of a favorite vort (Torah thought) on the fact that when God hears the cry of the Jewish People during our slavery, the word for cry is in the plural. Why? Because God hears our cry before we actually are in such pain that we are crying aloud. This is a great lesson for improving interpersonal relationships. Think of friends that might be crying on the inside. A real mentsch doesn’t wait for his or her friend’s problems to escalate! The vort finishes with an idea that blows my mind: Read the passage in Exodus, “I (God) will redeem you with an outstretched arm” very carefully. Perhaps the intention of this line is that God redeems all those who have their arm outstretched to others. I hope to use this next chapter of my life to keep my arm outstretched, to perceive the silent cries of my brothers and sisters, to be more than a fleeting source of entertainment.

On a practical note, I need some guinea pigs to take the ride with me on my first Possible You in LA. I welcome any of my dear readers to join us for a three-day action-packed weekend of bliss February 9/10/11. Yes, you have to sit for twenty hours. But it could be the best twenty hours of your life! Thanks to a generous benefactor who is a graduate, scholarships are available. Let me know if you are interested…details to follow on my website.

I invite my readers to make this holiday season a powerful time to realize possibilities. For yourself, for your community, for Israel, for the planet. Let us take stock in what is truly important. Let’s strive to live in that important/not urgent quadrant. Let us lay the groundwork for our legacy and ensure that we have no regrets along the way. What do you want your own eulogy to sound like? Where are your priorities? Who could use a phone call from you today? May all of our spirits soar like the sweet, holy flames on our menorah and may we merit redemption speedily in our days.

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Why Are We Here?

Wednesday, October 3rd, 2012

By Sam Glaser

I’d like to thank my friend and mentor Rabbi Simcha Weinberg for the inspiration for this newsletter.

My favorite comic of the season is Bart Simpson at the blackboard scrawling, “I won’t count how many pages are left in the Machzor.” Formal prayer is an acquired taste, and its acquisition is best achieved with frequent prayer. This theological Catch 22 is exacerbated by the fact that many of my fellow Jews only show up to pray on the two days a year when the prayers are by far the most long winded, confusing and complicated. I have a theory that the intensity and importance of the High Holiday liturgy requires that the chazzan keep the congregation engaged in participatory melody, and the rabbi uses his teaching moments primarily to answer the elephant in the room question: “Why are we here?”

Thankfully I came armed this year with several powerful divrei Torah on this very subject to share with my sweet congregation in Virginia Beach, VA. During Elul, the last month in our Jewish calendar year, I dive into the Machzor (holiday prayer book) out of necessity. As cantor I feel that it is important to run the High Holiday services several times in their entirety so that I am fluid on the melodies and liturgy and can focus on deeper meanings. In order to give words of illumination when I give a sermon, I spend the month steeped in holy books, holy websites and sitting eagerly in the front row when various Torah luminaries grace my shtetl in Los Angeles teaching holiday preparation workshops.

The net effect of this preparation is much like the difference between rushing through an art museum versus taking a comprehensive tour with a knowledgeable docent. It’s great to just show up and see some paintings, but the effect of deep preparation and a powerful guide creates a completely different experience. I realize that if I weren’t leading the holidays in a professional capacity I would not put in the time. But because I do make an effort, I can see how making that effort in other areas of my life would make a profound difference.

I’d like to offer a five part answer to the “Why are we here” question that I hope will enhance the experience of my dear readers come this Yom Kippur. The key “take home” concepts are first impressions, aspiration, desire, beauty and royalty.

First impressions: Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are truly portals to newness. We are told that “we never get a second chance to make a first impression,” but the miracle of this holiday period is that God gives us that very gift. We are judged “where we are at,” with a completely new chance to be the people we want to be. We learn from Hagar and Ishmael’s expulsion from Avraham and Sarah’s home, in the Torah portion read on the first day of Rosh Hashanah, that God judges Ishmael not for the mischief he caused with Isaac, nor for the trouble he would create for the Jewish People in future generations. Ishmael was judged where he was at the moment when he was fighting for his life, dying of thirst in the harsh desert, and God answered his prayer with a miraculous rescue. This powerful opportunity to become new again isn’t just semantics. Our cells are continuously regenerating. We know we are vastly different from the people we were ten years earlier. We know that change is possible because we HAVE changed as a result of our deepest experiences, both triumphant and traumatic.

When my wife and I were contemplating the wedding of our dreams we realized that the most profound weddings that we had attended were those few Orthodox nuptials that we had witnessed. We started learning with a favorite rabbi about the deeper meanings of all the customs and decided that while a full blown Tish, Bedeken, Kabbalat Panim and Yichud might bewilder our guests, the spiritual rewards of these traditions were worth the effort. The way it works is that the guys go to a tish where they drink, toast, sing and take care of the formal documents. The ladies greet the bride, a queen for the day seated elegantly at the Kabbalat Panim, and receive her exalted blessings. Then the guys rowdily march the groom out to see his bride, as if for the first time ever, and revel in her majesty. My rabbi suggested that we not see each other or even speak a full week before our big day. “Not even speak? Isn’t that severe? What about the last minute details? What about entertaining our out-of-town guests?” I asked in exasperation. He said, “When you first see your beloved bride, the one you have chosen out of all others in the world, you don’t want to think, “How could you have said that to me last night?”

We wisely took the rabbi’s advice. We created a most powerful first impression that will remain forever etched in our minds. Our capable photographer caught the crystalline tears as they cascaded from my eyes as I veiled my bride in a totally overwhelmed state. Our task is to conjure such a first-time meeting when we stand in the synagogue. The new you. Totally separate from the person you were before walking in the room. Just like Adam, the first man. Rosh Hashanah is commonly known as the anniversary of the creation of the world. In actuality, it is the birthday of Adam, the anniversary of the sixth day, the one that really mattered. Just like Adam stood alone in a nascent Garden of Eden, the very definition of a fresh start, so too can we on this first day of the year, and every day thereafter.

Adam’s first prayer was one of aspiration. He saw an incomplete world and according to Rashi, felt in his heart, “this could be so much more!” This is the theme that should inform all of our prayers during this High Holiday period. We’re not davening for selfish reasons; we must see a world of potential and want that potential realized. Only when Adam prayed did the rain fall and create the vast greenery of the garden. Let us all be like Adam and truly want greatness from ourselves and from our world. We live in a time of information overload. Constant news updates, constant connection. After enough bad news it’s easy to close our eyes, to ignore the world’s pain. This is the season to reawaken our aspirations, to remove complacency from our hearts, not to accept the status quo. Think big thoughts! God will hear your prayer! We could be so much more.

God gave Adam a few jobs: take care of the garden, name the animals, avoid certain trees. Adam became a Yes-man, calmly awaiting God’s next command. God quickly saw that this was not ideal (lo tov) and realized that the key to inspiring Adam to take initiative, to think outside the box and feel a sense of desire, was to give him the gift of a wife. Eve ignited his passion and cajoled him to reach his potential. We see proof of Adam’s complacency in the fact that God put him in a “deep slumber” much like God did with Abraham and Daniel. Rather than seeing the overarching prophetic visions like the other biblical heroes, Adam saw nothing during his sleep. Adam’s newfound desire with Eve was a good thing: although he ate from the forbidden tree, at least now he could be a partner with God, not just an employee. This time period, therefore, is the season for the rekindling of desire. We sing Zochreynu L’chaim in our prayers acknowledging that God is DESPERATE for us to desire life, to act as his “hands” in the world, to fill our days with purpose and beauty.

Speaking of beauty, a popular Midrash from the book of Exodus tells us that the Jewish women made mirrors of copper to use when beautifying themselves for their husbands. Most couples had given up on reproducing in the face of the crushing slavery. We were redeemed in the merit of these women who made the effort to show their exhausted husbands both of their images in the mirror. The husbands could see the beauty not only of their wives but the wives would remind their husbands that they too were beautiful in their eyes. The women rekindled their appetite and thereby ensured the future of the Jewish people. In light of their “illicit” origins, Moses was reluctant to follow the command to turn these mirrors into the kiyor, the washbasin that the cohanim (priests) would use in the Mishkan. But God insisted that the cohanim would see their reflection and be reminded just how beautiful they were to God. My friends, we are all God’s children. We are so beautiful to God, just like our own children are beautiful to us. We slide home at the end of a tough year of hard knocks and bruises to our ego. We may get dressed up in our nicest clothes and show up in style to the synagogue on the High Holidays, but inside we feel like a mess. This is the season of restoring our inner beauty, knowing that we are a treasure, one of God’s precious children.

We are so beautiful in God’s eyes that in fact that we are supposed to feel like royalty. One of the crucial changes in the liturgy is the repeated emphasis on God as melech, or king. The Rosh Hashanah service opens with the cantor’s bold Hamelech fanfare, we make the melech insertions in the Amidah or risk having to start the whole thing from the beginning, and we cry out with the plaintive Avinu Malkeynu, our Father our King. Does an omnipotent God need our flattery? Well, yes. A king is powerless without subjects. And having a king as your Father in heaven elevates you to the rank of prince or princess. Our sages tell us that we earned our pedigree by being the offspring of our exemplary matriarchs and patriarchs. The Akeyda, the binding of Isaac, which we read the second day of Rosh Hashanah, sealed our regal status in the eyes of all the heavenly realms. If we do our job over the High Holidays, we emerge whitewashed of sin and reunited with our Creator and our meritorious ancestors. We leave in royal robes, deeply perceiving our inner beauty, filled with aspirations to make the world a proper kingdom for God.

It’s not only Rosh Hashanah where we see mention of God’s kingship. An important part of our Yom Kippur service is the re-enactment of the procedures followed by the priests in the Beit Hamikdash (Holy Temple.) The reason is not only to commemorate what was. It is to remember that we had a palace, a national central address fit for our King. When we sing about the rebuilding of Jerusalem we’re not talking about the Ben Yehuda mall. Think of the sound of the shofar as a coronation trumpet; think of the unforgettable melody of the evening High Holiday prayers as the coronation suite. Thanks to the genius of the commentator Ba’al Haturim, we see that the gematria (numerology) of the Beit Hamikdash equals 861. So does the word Rosh Hashanah. There is an integral connection that bonds both concepts, inspiring us to reclaim our regal heritage and turn our hearts towards Jerusalem.

Perhaps the best way to answer the “why are we here” question is to rejoice in the fact that we are judged. Judgment day sounds like a frightening eschatological B-movie. We live in a time of unparalleled political correctness where judging others is frowned upon. What’s good for you is good for you just as long as you don’t hurt anyone. Dress in woolen suits on a hot day and sit in a synagogue to be judged? I’ll take the beach! But the reality is that we crave judgment. We’re desperate to know that we are on a true path. We spend millions on success coaches, consultants and seminars to help us realign our trajectories and reach our goals. Parents that don’t judge kids destroy their kids. Give your child consistent reward and punishment and you show your love. Ignore him or her and you demonstrate disinterest or even hatred. The idea of God judging me gives me comfort that God cares about me. In response to the love of my Father in Heaven, my Avinu Malkeynu, I am swooning with love that I am eager to reciprocate; I joyfully enter Sukkot with care that I don’t do ANYTHING to damage this precious relationship.

Chassidim frown upon saying the Vidui (confession) on Yom Kippur with a sad voice. How mind-blowing is it that we can fix everything? That God forgives us? That makes me want to cheer! A chet (sin) literally means “missing the mark,” in other words, there can be no intentional sin, only being off target because we don’t perceive the gravity of our actions. Those sins that give us impetus to repair our relationship with our Creator become mitzvot! Confession is a Torah mitzvah, and we must serve God with joy! I’m not recommending putting on a clown suit and parading around the bima (pulpit.) But when you pound your chest in pain for all those shortcomings of our humanity, do it with a smile inside, knowing that God cares, judges us with love and is ALWAYS ready for us to come home.

The High Holidays are about restoring what we always have inside, which is a sweet, loving child. Our inner child is quick to recover from a hurt, openly affectionate and sees the world with wide-eyed wonder. That child knows he or she is beautiful, is filled with desire, and since the world revolves around him he can be a tyrant prince. When a toddler sees his dad on his knees with his arms outstretched across the room, he RUNS into his daddy’s arms with joyous abandon. Rabbi Weinberg quoted the Zohar as stating that the shofar blast is really a lullaby. I know that in my last blog post I referred to the Talmudic reference that the sound is supposed to a forlorn wail modeled after a certain nameless biblical character. But for now, just picture that the final tekiya gedolah at the end of Yom Kippur is a gentle lullaby from God, just for you. May the answer to “why are we here” be perfectly clear: all we need to do is simply run into the arms of our loving Father in Heaven, and hold on to that feeling everyday of the year.

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The Art of Letting Go

Thursday, July 26th, 2012

by Sam Glaser

I’d like to share a revelation that I had during a camping trip in awe-inspiring Kings Canyon, CA last week.  I spent much of Shabbat afternoon by a wild river. There’s not much else you can do at a campsite with a small eruv around the tents on a long, hot summer day. Over the course of several miles the rushing water warms from a numbing glacial chill to a balmy 75 degrees. A few dear friends and I walked among the rocks, found perfect places to dip our feet and occasionally submerge to cool off. After a few lazy hours we felt at one with the flow, relaxed and open. During these rare moments of peace I try to ask the deep, dark questions that rarely see daylight. My new friend Frank was on hand to help me with one quandary that had been nagging me.

Rambam tells us that it is cruel to face adversity and not ask why such a thing might be happening. I had pulled a muscle in my calf a few weeks earlier while skateboarding with my son. We were watching the pros at the X Games and then doing some freestyle ourselves. It finally got better and then I managed to re-injure it on a Kings Canyon hike, just when I reached full mobility. Oy…another two weeks of limping? So why now, why my calf, and why the re-injury? Frank believes that revisiting the same affliction helps one recognize that he or she didn’t learn the lesson the first time. I never thought much about my calf strain…these things “just happen” when you over extend, right?

One thing that’s been on my mind is the imminent departure of my oldest son who is now a senior in high school. My wife and I are awakening to the fact that the next family vacation will be the last with all of us together, at least for a while. Soon there will be a missing person at our dinner table. And then another kid will join him, then another. We are hearing the footsteps of Empty Nest Syndrome, and my reaction is to greedily hold on to each moment. I’m shooting more pictures than ever, trying to pack in memorable activities, filling my son’s head with words of guidance, boosting confidence and issuing warnings. Simultaneously I am grappling for traction in a topsy-turvy economy where music is often the first line item cut from disappearing budgets and downloads prevail. I’m learning that my reaction to all these issues is really the same: hold on for dear life, hoard my assets, maintain status quo, wear a convincing smile.

As I expressed these insights I told Frank, “I’m

trying to hold onto my kids just like I’m trying to hold onto this water.” As I reached into the river for handfuls of water it just escaped through the cracks in my fingers and continued on its inevitable descent. I sobbed tears of sadness and relief as I acknowledged this bittersweet pain that I have been carrying inside.

When we feel the need to grab so much we send a message to the Universe: I don’t have what I need, I’m living in fear, and I’m desperate. Holding on creates tension; imagine a fist clenched tightly closed, a contorted bronze sculpture calcified in a defensive, protective pose. That’s me. Where there is no movement there is no grace, no flexibility. Our sages teach us to be supple like the river reed. A dry, brittle twig will break under pressure. Stay liquid, stay open, and stay available. Just like that river flows effortlessly towards Fresno, I must be at peace with change to allow the Divine flow to nurture me.

I’m not sure why that gastrocnemius muscle is called a calf, but we can learn a lot from the mention of the calf in our text, specifically the golden variety. Frank and I discussed the biblical scene of an entire people losing faith in their leader, panicking, creating a replacement deity. Do you see the connection? Panic, anxiety and melancholy cripple one’s faith. Even the afterglow of Divine revelation at Sinai wasn’t enough to keep the Jewish People connected. How much more so do we fall in this generation when current circumstances conspire to annihilate our faith. Bottom line: I am a man of faith who has no faith. I run around the country to fifty cities a year singing songs of love for God and yet my personal faith in

God’s ability to sustain me and keep my family together is crumbling. Rather than serving as an example of holiness and living at peace with the Universe, open to whatever God has in store, I am a frightened child trying to protect all my toys from the neighborhood bully.

My kids will spend a year in Israel, go to college, marry and propagate the species, God willing! That’s what we want! As parents we are archers, pulling back the bow with all our strength and launching our beloved offspring into the fray, using the best aim we can muster. Then they are flying. Separate from us. Leaving us. They will follow their own voice, make their mark on the world, stand on their own two feet. Hopefully they are standing on our proverbial shoulders, with as expansive a view as we can provide. To try to stop the process is like trying to dam up a rushing river. You can try to pile up stones in a Sisyphean rage…or just let the water do what it’s going to do anyway.

In my career, I will continue to have challenges and they will force me to innovate, create partnerships and grow. Why is it that I can counsel friends with clarity, seeing the rich horizons that lay just beyond, and for myself I see darkness? One of my buddies on the camping trip is an actor and yoga instructor. He is 37 years old and says he can’t marry his girlfriend until he has a stable income. Did I mention that he’s an actor and yoga instructor? God wants us happily married! The flow will come! Of course God will continue to look out for my family! Of course I will succeed! Like everyone else, God has given me a unique set of gifts, a piece of the global puzzle that only I possess. God has a purpose for me. I have to make the effort, but I must remember that God will finish the task. Trying to do it all is the act of a pagan. I have God on my team!

One of our nights in the campground we went to the ranger led astronomy lecture. We were astounded to learn of the vastness of space, the size of the great celestial bodies, the mind-stretching distances in the universe. Our sun is just one of over 200 BILLION stars in our Milky Way galaxy, and the Milky Way is just one of over an estimated billion galaxies. For all of our human accomplishments we still haven’t set foot on a single planet in our own quaint solar system. Around the campfire we were marveling that the same God that brought about the Big Bang lovingly created our brains and bodies. God creates new suns in explosive supernovae and still “sheps nachas” when I wrap my tefillin.

After the lecture Ranger Bob brought us to a clearing in the forest where we could peer into the pitch-black new moon sky with a sixteen-inch mirror telescope. My friends, I saw a global cluster, the Whirlpool Galaxy and “eye of God” Ring Nebula with my own eyes! All of these celestial bodies have a specific place in the universe, predictable orbits that they follow, so reliable that we can use their light to steer our ships through the night. All of creation is on a path, with atoms in ordered arrays, electrons and protons spinning around nuclei, trees arching towards the sun, ants marching in single file, pelicans drafting off each other’s wingtips. Why should I dread any aspect of my own path, my lifecycle? Thankfully the Jewish People have been given the gift of a long and winding road of 613 mitzvot, in a system called Halacha, the path. Jewish law can be seen as oppressive and burdensome, or as a collection of helpful spiritual signposts to keep us joyful and inspired on the annual orbit of the Jewish year.

When I am resisting change and anxious about the future, I lose the Divine flow and close myself off to perceiving the path of peace. Judaism has

amazing tools to stay on track but I can testify that it is possible to live within halacha and become a robot. I think the key is focusing on filling our lives with kindness to others and gratitude to our Creator. I am grateful for the time God has allotted me to be with my children. I am grateful for vacations and National Parks. I am grateful for stars, rivers and friends. I am grateful for the air that I breathe. I am grateful for my wife, my children, my parents, my extended family. I am grateful to be Jewish. I am grateful for skateboards, skis, guitars and gravity. I am grateful for challenges to overcome. I pray that all of us learn the art of letting go, prying open our hearts to the messages of Heaven and finding our true path. Thanks to a river, a telescope and a new friend, I am a bit closer to finding my own.

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The Reform Biennial: The Good, the Bad and the Plenary

Wednesday, December 21st, 2011

 by Sam Glaser

 I am writing this newsletter on the road during my 2011 Chanukah tour. It is as varied an itinerary as can be imagined in the Jewish world; a whirlwind of performing for Reform, Conservative and Orthodox synagogues, religious and day schools and a retirement home. This is my eighteenth Chanukah on the road, a time that is often difficult since I am gone for weeks rather than my typical every-other-weekend schedule, but is also the period when I relish in the joy of having so much time to interact with out-of-town friends old and new and reflect on the year gone by.

I began this adventure at the new Gaylord National Convention Center, a mega hotel complex just south of Washington DC that easily housed the 6000 delegates of the Reform Biennial. I have performed at several of these events but this one felt special. It ran like a well-oiled machine with a record number of participants and myriad opportunities for study, conducting the business of the movement and power-schmoozing. An impressive list of my musical peers was on hand to add a creative touch to the proceedings and a well stocked exhibit hall of Judaica from around the world was a shopper’s delight. I couldn’t walk more than a few feet without being embraced by the membership and clergy of synagogues where I have performed over the years.

 There were two highlights of the conference for me. One was the climax of Craig Taubman’s standing-room-only concert when he invited me to the stage to sing a spiritual version Maoz Tzur. It takes a big man to open up a very tight set list to let another artist share the spotlight. For me, it was a moment of redemption. My own concert earlier that day was scheduled during a plethora of breakout sessions and so the numbers in the audience were limited. I have a suspicion that those individuals that program the concert slots aren’t quite sure what to make of their frum, tzitzit-wearing friend Sam, in spite of the fact that most of my shows on my annual 50 city tours are in non-Orthodox synagogues. That day happened to be my birthday, and I was questioning the wisdom of accepting the invitation to attend in the first place rather than celebrating with my family. Having the chance to share in the intense spirit of a packed house for a show unopposed by other programming gave me and hopefully the audience a powerful high. I’m grateful to Craig for this gift.

 The other highlight was a pair of late night jams. I had just finished a midnight hour and a half kumzitz where I led a continuous medley of all tunes Jewish, Beatles and Broadway. With little strength left after such a long day I wandered through the lobby on the way back to my room. There I saw a group of the new wave of immensely talented young Jewish musicians who had just been kicked out of the lobby bar after last call. We started singing and were asked to find somewhere else to make noise. I dragged them back to the stage where the other kumzitz had just ended and we began another few hours of going around the circle sharing new musical creations with one another. Every musician had either a keyboard, guitar or percussion in hand and lent their voices to one another’s songs. The collaboration was organic and the support and love for one another was palpable. I must say I have renewed hope that in spite of the economics of downloads, loss of our distributors and financially ravaged synagogues, there is a HUGE future in Jewish music.

Plenary sessions can be inspiring or a grind. Imagine attending two three-hour banquets per day but you don’t even get the tepid chicken dinner. These were the programs where Obama, Eric Cantor, Ehud Barak and Natan Sharansky held court. I’ve been to enough Biennials and GA conferences to predict the exact script of each of these speeches. The politicians impress the audience with teleprompter readings of exactly what the constituent population wants to hear, pausing at preset moments for applause and standing ovations, posing for the photo with the movement leaders and then running to the waiting helicopter. Yes, it’s exciting to be in the room with the political giants of our day. But the succession of humorless soundbites leaves one wishing for a left turn, a bit of levity, a novel idea. The rest of the plenary sessions were chock full of congratulations for incoming or outgoing movement executives, showcasing programming and waiting for videos that usually didn’t work. No one was forcing me to be there. I attended the plenaries because I deeply want to see innovations, to be inspired, to feel hopeful for this largest movement on the American Jewish scene.

 A few things really got my goat. Over the days of the conference I heard many times references to the Reform’s iconic principle of “informed choice.” Informed choice requires that the chooser have all the possibilities at his or her disposal. It also requires a Jewishly educated laity. Real pluralism tolerates and engages all aspects of the spectrum of the Jewish people. Instead, I found many speakers to be defensive, taking a stand against tradition and using the word Reform to excess. In other words, rather than just say, I’m a Jew, the phrase continuously repeated was, “since I’m a Reform Jew,” “as Reform Jews we…” or, “I am proud to be a Reform Jew.” Jewish pride is great, but in many cases the speakers missed the chance to bring the conference a feeling of belonging to the greater whole of our glorious people.

 This idea of pluralism also must take into account the presence of Reform Jews with right wing leanings. I heard closet conservatives whispering amongst themselves in fear of political backlash. The AIPAC meet and greet was nearly empty in spite of the free cocktails. Applause for Republican Congressman Eric Cantor was guarded. Discouraging words are seldom heard in the interest of political correctness. Where is the famous Reform openness and tolerance here?

 While I’m venting, the basic food groups of the Jewish menu such as tefillin, respect for the laws of Shabbat or kashrut were absent. I asked if there were any provisions for kosher meals and the few provided had been sold out in advance. No kosher deli booth among the multitude of dining options, nothing with a hechsher for the many exhibitors, visitors and attendees who might appreciate such a concession. I lived on store bought bagels and salad for the duration of the conference. Attendees had to reach into their wallets over the course of Shabbat and cell phones were plentiful. I heard lots of calls for outreach…what would it hurt to have some outreach towards those on the traditional end of the spectrum?

 I know some of my readers are thinking: “you idiot! If you don’t like it, go to the Chabad convention next time.” But that’s missing the point.   I have seen in my short career the “running for the exit” of my generation. The URJ youth director informed me that 80% of Reform kids leave Judaism after Bar/Bat Mitzvah. Gone. For good. Only 15% of those that identify as Reform Jews report any involvement at all in Jewish organizational life. More than half say they have not attended a synagogue within the past year and cannot read Hebrew. Ours is a generation that needs the power of a living Torah and the skeletal support system of mitzvot on which to hang the flesh of our spiritual lives. If it works for Orthodoxy throughout the millennia, there must be something to it. A strong Reform Judaism that has a grasp of these crucial fundamentals and includes them in the wealth of Jewish choices offered will be a movement that will attract American youth.   My friends, this isn’t Reform vs. Conservative vs. Orthodox. Any failure of the Reform movement is the failure of Judaism.

 I was brought up in the Reform/Conservative realm and can attest to the fact that there is a way to ensure vibrant Judaism in the present and continuity in the future. Reform Jews are amongst the most dynamic, forward thinking, innovative and challenging of our people. They have the civic passion of Avraham while Orthodox Jews have the stringency of Yitzchak. Now is the time to come together in balance like Yaakov, with vibrant education, great music, and a love rather than fear of tradition. I know personally the power of Reform camping, prayer, social justice. I sang into the night with the new generation of teens and twenty-something leaders, educators and musicians. What’s done is done…but let’s get this new generation hip to mitzvot, giving them tools to have a full Shabbat every week, rejoice in the power of the holidays, to see that tefillin are cool and that opting for “pork sliders” and shrimp sushi is opting out.

 The departing leader of the movement, Rabbi Eric Yoffie, gave a fascinating presidential sermon on Shabbat. His daughter has become a Modern Orthodox Jew. He said the following:

 ”When I look at Adina, I see someone who has put God and Torah at the center of her life. In her high school days, she would often challenge me. Judaism is of transcendent importance or it is not, she would say. And if you don’t believe in your gut that Judaism matters to an existing God, why bother?…Do I regret her religious choices? Absolutely not. She has chosen a path that I would not choose, but it is a worthy path. We continue our discussions, which are both vigorous and loving. And every time we do so, I think about the need to respect religious approaches other than my own. This is a subject on which I need reminding, from time to time. I am a combative person; I see myself as a defender of Reform Judaism; I am quick to offer a fierce defense of my liberal principles. But sitting across from my daughter and knowing the thoughtfulness of her convictions, it is respect that I feel and express; and I remind myself to stress the authenticity of my beliefs rather than what I may see as the shortcomings of hers. This above all is what I have learned from my daughter: that if we hope to engage our children, we will need to provide those answers – answers that are religiously compelling and intellectually engaging, as well as authentically Reform…this means making it clear that as Reform Jews, there are things that God expects of us. This means saying that ritual opens us to the sacred and gives structure to the holy. This means affirming our belief that if ritual dies, Judaism dies; it is only a matter of time. This means proclaiming that Shabbat is a God-given duty, even as we know that there are many, many ways for a Jew to fulfill that duty.”

 May Rabbi Yoffie’s wisdom permeate liberal Judaism. Let us give our kids real “informed choice” and let the chips fall where they may. Let us open the gates of tolerance to all branches of Judaism and not just to LGBT’s and the intermarried. If any movement in Judaism is going to make radical changes it will be Reform. They have done so as they have shifted to a Zionist platform and evolved from Classical Reform to a movement that was able to adopt the latest batch of Ten Principles and davens with the beautiful Mishkan T’fila siddur. I’d like to be first in line to work with the Reform movement on a task force to create true pluralism, informed choice and full spectrum Jewish education. It may be too late for the millions that have chosen to disregard the chosen people. But for those incredible young folks who were singing with me at Biennial into the wee hours of the night of their love for God, let’s give them a fighting chance at having Jewish grandchildren. Is it fair that only Rabbi Yoffie be assured of such a luxury?

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The Songs We Sing (Interview)

Wednesday, March 30th, 2011

by Yossi Zweig

SamJeansJE Magazine: Shalom Sam. Thanks for taking a minute while you’re on the East Coast. The opening quote on your website calls you “the hardest working man in Jewish music.”  How did you get that title?

Sam Glaser: Since 1992 I have been on tour to an average of fifty cities a year. Almost 19 years now.  It makes me tired just thinking about it!  I tend to be out of town every other weekend. When I’m not on the road I have a great day job: I run a recording studio where I produce albums for clients.  I also try putting out one of my own a year.

 

JE Magazine: How do your wife and kids handle that?

SG: I’m a full time musician and I have to put food on the table!  I individually take each of my three kids with me when I am on the road…it’s a wonderful bonding time for us. I try to have quality time with them everyday I’m home.  My wife and I are good about looking out for each other. We have “date night” every Wednesday. That seems to maintain Shalom Bayit (peace in the home) better than anything.

JE Magazine: I’ve spoken to some of your fans…some of which came to the show in Sam Glaser t-shirts. Your website says you have a devoted following in all denominations. Now that I’ve seen them in person I believe it.

SG: I grew up in a Conservative synagogue, half of my concerts are in the Reform movement, I became Orthodox, my brothers became Chassidim and my parents became Chabadniks. I’m all over the map. I play all types of synagogues and make the rounds at JCCs. I’m a regular at Jewish conferences, performing at Biennial, OU, GA, Cantors Assembly, CCAR, Aish, Hadassah, CAJE, for any Jew that moves. My goal is to get people together. Enthusiastic about their heritage. Close to each other and close to God. As far as I’m concerned we’re one big happy family.  I’m the oldest of four boys and I’ve always been a “pleaser” type person, trying to make peace.  I guess it’s my destiny.  It’s a real blessing when I play a gig where all the synagogues in any given community collaborate on producing my concert.

JE Magazine: I know we hear your music all over the place but some of our readers probably don’t know it’s yours. Can you give us some ideas where we hear your stuff?

SG: Well, I have sold over 100,000 of my CDs and hopefully they are getting around. Other Jewish artists sing my songs as well.  New York’s JM in the AM had two hour-long shows of my music recently. Thank G-d we have dozens of great Jewish radio/internet stations around the country.  Have you heard about Jewish Rock Radio?  I’m a featured artist and it’s available as an App on the iphone…how cool is that?  Aish.com uses a lot of my stuff. Jewish Life Television plays a lot of my videos.  I’ve been on several of the Reform movement’s Ruach CDs. I’m on the Chabad Telethon frequently. Let’s just say that I almost never say no.

JE Magazine: What about TV stuff? Didn’t you used to do the music for the Dodgers?

SG: I spent much of the 80s and early 90s chasing that dream. Composing for commercials, TV movies, the WB Network, ESPN.  I’ve never cared much for televised sports but somehow I became the sports music guy in LA for a while.  I did music for the Dodgers, Angels, Lakers, Clippers, World Cup of Surfing, Warren Miller Ski Films. Those were the good old days, before music libraries took over, before Frostwire and everybody having a studio on their Mac. I must admit that the scoring business was somewhat empty…I felt like everything I was writing was disposable. From that perspective, I don’t miss it. I still get a soundtrack project in the studio from time to time and I appreciate the challenge.

JE Magazine: And Jewish music is filling that spiritual void?

SG: Bigtime. When I come into a city I feel totally uplifted by the audiences.  They empower me to inspire them.   It’s a symbiotic thing.  It’s that mixture of adrenaline and spontaneity and all the stars colliding. What a rush. I have a selection of a few dozen workshops I offer when I lead a Shabbat program.  I can’t explain how but there’s a power that an audience has to suck the right words out of me.  Obviously I have notes when I need them but I go into this heightened plane where I just deliver.  Playing the clubs back then was dehumanizing.  You did your 40 minute set and then got chased off the stage like cattle so the next wannabe’s could set up their gear.

JE Magazine: What’s on the horizon for you?

SG:  I have so much new material that I’m recording.  It’s got me totally stoked.  That’s California talk for really excited.  I want to release a new CD every quarter.  But my wife would kill me!  Last year I released The Songs We Sing Volume 2.  It’s a 28 song greatest hits of the Jewish People collection that took me two years to complete.  When I recorded that I also did Volume 3 at the same time.  Volume 3 is all Jewish dance music. My band doesn’t want me to release it cause they’re afraid we’ll never get booked anymore…people will just buy the CD!  I still need to do final vocals…it’s coming soon.  Next up is a secular album dedicated to my dad. It’s called Father’s Day and has songs about fatherhood, aging parents, life and loss.  God willing out this June. My next album of my original Jewish music is also in the works.  It’s called The Promise and focuses on our relationship with Israel.  After this interview I’ll play you a few cuts.

JE Magazine: I’ve been listening to your stuff since a friend gave me Across the River.  I still think it’s your best work.

SG: That was 1997!  Actually I just listened to it and I’m still proud of it.  People always think that the first album of mine they got into is the best.

JE Magazine: I think it’s safe to say that your albums are among the best produced and most heartfelt in the Jewish world.  It’s not simple music.  It’s real and powerful stuff. I hear just about everything and your CDs really tell a story and stand the test of time. But you got so many albums… this new one was number 21!?  Which ones would you recommend for newcomers?

SG: Well, first of all, thank you!  I guess I’d start with Presence and The Bridge. They were my first albums freed from the limits of tape machines.  You have to understand that unlimited tracks with digital recording was like a miracle for us producer types.  Finally I could get these sounds in my head out in the world without any technological compromises. Hallel is ideal for a long drive.  If you like nigunim (songs without words) and a more traditional Jewish sound, my Nigun/Voice of the Soul is really rich and features RebbeSoul and singers from Blue Fringe, Moshav and Soulfarm. For kids, my Rockin’ Chanukah CD, Kol Bamidbar and Soap Soup should do the trick. On my website you can buy 3 and get 1 free. Shameless plugs!

JE Magazine: Any final words for our readers?

SG: First of all, many thanks to JE Mag and to you for getting the word out about new Jewish music. For your readers: Love your Judaism!  Celebrate Shabbat!  Have an attitude of gratitude. Don’t steal music. Buying downloaded songs is cool but keep in mind that many artists like me intend to have their art taken in as a whole…you wouldn’t only buy 1/10th of a painting!  Try the whole album…it’s how I meant for you to hear my stuff.  I love getting feedback.  Write to me at sam@samglaser.com and say hello!

 

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Love is My Religion

Friday, October 29th, 2010
Love Signby Sam Glaser

My 15-year-old Max woke up on the wrong side of the bed.  Since he’s a busy teen I have to make an appointment to have a conversation.  Today was our day to make up for lost time but he emerged from his bedroom with a chip on his shoulder and heaped insult on each family member.  I had to draw the line when he slammed his brother Jesse’s laptop down on his fingers.  The punishment?  His lifeline to the world, his new cell phone, was promptly snatched away and hidden.  How do you think that affected his mood for our outing?

Jews believe in a loving, caring God Who is committed to every individual’s growth and pleasure.  Our liturgy is filled with constant reminders of God’s love, and our prayers and blessings create constant opportunities for returning the favor with gratitude.  Our texts are also rife with the cause and effect chain of slacking off.  The flip side of real love, and by that I mean tough love, is the importance of consequences.  But it all starts with love.

Historically Jews are associated more with guilt than joy, as if we are inherently more in touch with the “fear” side of the love-fear continuum.  Personally, I prefer the term “awe” to “fear.”  God is AWE-SOME!  Awe infers respect, power, wonder.  I have heard many times that Christians are the people of love and we are the people of the book.  I believe the point that’s lost on the world is that we’re infatuated with textual learning because it allows us to hear God’s “still, small voice.”  In any relationship, the partners must establish the lines that must not be crossed.  Awe implies an awareness of boundaries.  We study so that we know God’s mind, God’s desires and expectations.  With the ground rules set we can then dance in ecstatic joy with our Creator.

love hate babyOur kids go berserk when we reprimand them.  Sometimes it’s fun to video their reactions.  No, I don’t post the tantrums on Facebook.  Thankfully they are usually considerate and know when they are crossing the line.  They have also learned when to steer clear of their mother just by reading the look on her face.  But when we have to lay down the law, we let them freak out for a while and find that afterwards they are usually more sweet and loving than ever.  I think they intuit that structure in their lives is crucial for them to flourish.  They also see their peers that are spoiled rotten usually turn out just that way: rotten.  We emphasize to them that as Jews we connect the holiday of Pesach with Shavuot because we realize that celebrating freedom is great but it’s not just about escaping slavery. Our true goal is the freedom to receive Torah at Sinai and thereby bask within a powerful covenant with God.  Rules + consequences = freedom.

I’m currently reading a new Rabbi Arush bestseller, In Forest Fields, that urges us to feeling gratitude for our pain, for the setbacks and trials we face, because in the long run “tsuris” brings us closer to a God that only does things for our good.  Part of God’s role as our Father in Heaven requires that God dispense love in the form of discipline or rebuke.  Just like I must take away Max’s phone to make my point that his behavior is unacceptable, so too does God give us pause for thought when it’s necessary to re-orient our actions.  The setback is a gift.  By intervening, I show my son my love.  The cruelest response would be to ignore the problem.  Richard Bach put it well in his brilliant book Illusions: ”To love someone unconditionally is not to care who they are or what they do. Unconditional love, on the surface, looks the same as indifference.”

My parents are very involved in my life. Love on Sheet Music Their involvement is welcome and cherished.  My father has taken upon himself the job of worrying for me.  It’s quite a relief that I don’t have to worry for myself since my dad does such a good job of it.  Many of our conversations evolve from small talk about our day-to-day to an analysis of all the things that are wrong in my life.  It took me years to understand that my father isn’t trying to wreck my good mood.  He shows his love with his concern that I remain focused on what needs doing for my family’s well being.  His broken record repetition of the state of my finances or the costs of sending my kids to private school is actually pure, unadulterated love, hidden in the “garment” of worry.

How many parents show their love in the “garment” of screaming, paranoia and nagging?  My mom still admonishes that I could break a finger while skiing or skateboarding.  “And then what?” she adds accusingly.  Even at 47 years old she still reminds me to take my jacket because it might get cold.  I love it!  Many friends only see the silver lining of their parent’s love after their parents have left the earth.  I often refer to my song “He is Still My Daddy,” (coming out soon on my new CD!) when I feel like bucking the onslaught of paternal judgment.  I consciously remind myself that my parent’s caveats represent the deepest love.

It’s important to state the difficulty of appreciating a loving Universe when one is in the depths of despair.  Overly helpful friends may remind you that God only tests those whom God loves, and that challenges are proof that God really needs you and is counting on you to grow.  In the thick fog of despondency we are blind to the opportunities that impregnate every setback.  Sometimes it takes an enlightened guide to coach you through the trough, to “lift your eyes” to a vision of healing, consolation and even victory.

Couple in WaterToday I braved the LA drizzle with my family to attend a book signing of a young woman who was diagnosed with ovarian cancer when she was twenty. As soon as she was able to get over the sense of victimhood, cancer gave her the incentive to take life seriously and the awareness that she had special gifts to counsel those in similar straits.  The audience was overjoyed to hear that this year, eight years after her lifesaving surgery, she gave birth to healthy twins.  Her sister donated the eggs and thanks the miracle of in vitro fertilization she and her husband are parents of darling daughters.  At the nadir of her struggle it’s unlikely that she would have uttered the words she said today: “I’m grateful for my cancer.”

A careful reading of our holy Torah shows that our biblical heroes do not have access to prophecy when in states of sadness.   Sadness is compared with idol worship in our Talmud.  After all, a negative spin on life is a slap in the face to our Creator who gives us our tests with love and hope for our eventual triumph.  Yaakov spends twenty-two years without access to prophecy while mourning for his missing Yosef.  And by extension we are shocked to see that Avraham must have been joyful at the chance to do the mitzvah of sacrificing his beloved Yitzchak or he wouldn’t have heard the angel calling to stay his hand.  Our greatest moments are not spent in couch potato mode with the latest Netflix delivery.  When we look back we are proudest of overcoming obstacles, the more profound the adversity the more powerful the feeling of accomplishment.

Still, we don’t ask for tests. We don’t seek out problems. Heart in OceanThey do a perfectly good job finding us.  Two months ago I broke my foot.  I survived the ignominy of being pushed in a wheelchair on the Sabbath, barely mastered crutches, and had my low back go out due to the imbalance of walking around in a Frankenstein boot.  Thank God I’m doing much better now but I have a brand new sense of appreciation for my mobility.  I’m much more sympathetic to those in wheelchairs, to those who suffer with inadequate access, crumbling sidewalks and death star potholes.  Only afterwards did I recognize God’s kindness in that my injury transpired in the only two-month window in my schedule when I didn’t have to get on an airplane and tour.

I never did get to spend the day with Max.  He was reduced to a furious, frustrated adolescent festering in his room.  Not to worry…we’ll get our chance…he’s a great kid with an award-winning smile.  His brother Jesse was more than happy to have me to himself for the day. We took my first hike since my accident and boy did I smell the roses.  We saw ducks, geese, doves, quail, lizards and turtles, ate wild grapes in a forest of eucalyptus and munched on a picnic of Jeff’s kosher chicken cilantro sausages smeared with hearts of romaine and pareve Caesar dressing with a side of seasoned fries.  With every breath of fresh air I thanked God.  With every bite of my gourmet hot dog I sang praises to the Almighty.  My God is a God of love, thank you very much.  Life is so good.

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