Who Cares - What Matters
I came to offer a prayer
and receive an answer for One
But the gates were locked
the doors were securely shut
The Lights, off
I got Nothing
And was Blessed
Anyway
I just never recognized it
y e t. . .
S O M E T I M E S
the easiest way to open a door
is just to
TURN THE KNOB. . .
Rabbi Harold S. Kushner, Reassuring Best-Selling Author, Dies at 88
With a wide-reaching spiritual message in books like “When Bad Things Happen to Good People,” he drew on his own experience with grief and doubt.
Rabbi Harold Kushner, a practical public theologian whose best-selling books assured readers that bad things happen to good people because God is endowed with unlimited love and justice but exercises only finite power to prevent evil, died on Friday in Canton, Mass. He was 88.
His death, in hospice care, was confirmed by his daughter, Ariel Kushner Haber.
Several of Rabbi Kushner’s 14 books became best-sellers, resonating well beyond his Conservative Jewish congregation outside Boston and across religious boundaries in part because they had been inspired by his own experiences with grief, doubt and faith. One reviewer called his book “When All You’ve Ever Wanted Isn’t Enough” a “useful spiritual survival manual.”
Rabbi Kushner wrote “When Bad Things Happen to Good People” (1981) after the death of his son, Aaron. At age 3, just hours after the birth of the Kushners’ daughter, Aaron was diagnosed with a rare disease, progeria, in which the body ages rapidly.
When Aaron was 10 years old, he was in his 60s physiologically. He weighed only 25 pounds and was as tall as a three-year-old when he died in 1977 two days after his 14th birthday.
The book was rejected by two publishers before it was accepted by Schocken Books. It catapulted to No. 1 on the New York Times best-seller list and transformed Rabbi Kushner into a popular author and commentator.
His thesis, as he wrote in the book, was straightforward: “It becomes much easier to take God seriously as the source of moral values if we don’t hold Him responsible for all the unfair things that happen in the world.”
Rabbi Kushner also wrote:
“I don’t know why one person gets sick, and another does not, but I can only assume that some natural laws which we don’t understand are at work. I cannot believe that God ‘sends’ illness to a specific person for a specific reason. I don’t believe in a God who has a weekly quota of malignant tumors to distribute, and consults His computer to find out who deserves one most or who could handle it best
He was making the case that dark corners of the universe endure where God has not yet succeeded in making order out of chaos. “And chaos is evil; not wrong, not malevolent, but evil nonetheless,” he wrote, “because by causing tragedies at random, it prevents people from believing in God’s goodness.”
Unpersuaded, the journalist, critic and novelist Ron Rosenbaum, writing in The New York Times Magazine in 1995, reduced Rabbi Kushner’s thesis more dialectically: “diminishing God to something less than an Omnipotent Being — to something more like an eager cheerleader for good, but one decidedly on the sidelines in the struggle against evil.”
“In effect,” he wrote, “we need to join Him in rooting for good — our job is to help cheer Him up.”
Rabbi Kushner argued, however, that God was omnipotent as a wellspring of empathy and love.
Image
Harold Samuel Kushner was born on April 3, 1935, to Julius and Sarah (Hartman) Kushner in the East New York section of Brooklyn. His mother was a homemaker. His father owned Playmore Publishing, which sold toys and children’s books, especially Bible stories, from a shop at Fifth Avenue and 23rd Street that he hoped his son would take over. Harold felt he lacked his father’s business sense.
He was raised in Brooklyn (the family moved to the Crown Heights section when he started elementary school), where he was a passionate Brooklyn Dodgers fan. After graduating from Erasmus Hall High School, he earned a bachelor’s degree from Columbia University in 1955 and a master’s there in 1960.
He had planned to major in psychology but switched to literature after studying under Prof. Mark Van Doren, the Pulitzer Prize-winning poet. On a lark, but armed with a solid religious upbringing, he enrolled in an evening program at the Jewish Theological Seminary. By his junior year at Columbia he had decided to become a rabbi.
After Columbia, he enrolled full-time at the seminary where he was ordained, graduated in 1960 and received his doctorate in 1972. He studied later at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem.
He volunteered for two years in the Army’s Chaplain Corps at Fort Sill, Okla., where he became a first lieutenant. Returning to New York after his discharge, he served for four years as an assistant rabbi at Temple Israel in Great Neck, N.Y., on Long Island.
Rabbi Kushner married Suzette Estrada in 1960 and moved to Massachusetts, where he became rabbi of Temple Israel in Natick, a suburb of Boston, in 1966. He served as the congregational rabbi there for 24 years and remained a member of the congregation until he moved into a senior living residence in Canton in 2017.
His wife died in 2022. His brother, Paul, a rabbi in Bellmore and Merrick on Long Island, died in 2019. In addition to his daughter, he is survived by two grandchildren.
Among Rabbi Kushner’s other books are “How Good Do We Have to Be? A New Understanding of Guilt and Forgiveness” (1997), “Living a Life That Matters” (2001) and “The Lord Is My Shepherd: Healing Wisdom of the 23rd Psalm” (2003).
He also collaborated with the novelist Chaim Potok in editing “Etz Hayim: A Torah Commentary,” the official commentary of Conservative Jewish congregations, which was published by the Rabbinical Assembly and the Jewish Publication Society in 2001.
Rabbi Kushner often said he was amazed at the breadth of his readership across theological lines. In 1999, he was named clergyman of the year by the organization Religion in American Life. In 2007, the Jewish Book Council gave him a Lifetime Achievement Award.
In his books, other writings and on-air commentary, often as a radio and television talk show guest, he became a font of aphorisms embraced by clergy of all denominations. Among them were: “Forgiveness is a favor we do for ourselves, not a favor we do to the other party,” and, “If we hold our friends to a standard of perfection, or if they do that to us, we will end up far lonelier than we want to be.”
“People who pray for miracles usually don’t get miracles, any more than children who pray for bicycles, good grades, or good boyfriends get them as a result of praying,” he wrote. “ But people who pray for courage, for strength to bear the unbearable, for the grace to remember what they have left instead of what they have lost, very often find their prayer answered.”
He explained that his book “When All You’ve Ever Wanted Isn’t Enough” was intended to be “an examination of the question of why successful people don’t feel more satisfied with their lives.”
“Drawing on the Biblical book of Ecclesiastes, it suggests that people need to feel that their lives make a difference to the world,” he wrote. “We are not afraid of dying so much as of not having lived.”
Psssssssssssssssssssssssssssst:
One out of One of us dies. . .even Rabbi’s I first fell in love with this book even before I opened up the cover to the first page just by the Title: WHEN BAD THINGS HAPPEN TO GOOD PEOPLE Did you catch it? W H E N not IF We live in a world today that not only defies DEATH, it actually believes it doesn’t exist; that a drug, a therapy, an intervention, even a prayer, eliminates the possibility of it in our lives.
Rabbi Kushner showed us that DEATH and GRIEF are real; they are not to be cured, but HEALING is more than possible. . .
NOW THAT IS A LITTLE HARSH. . .
T R U T H
SOLUTION TO LIFE AND DEATH:
LOVE
THE
DEEPEST
Only Time Will Tell By JJ Heller, David Heller and Andy Gullahorn
There’s not enough paper in this world There’s not enough ink to write it down No melody is sweet enough No metaphor is deep enough To describe the treasure I have found
I keep trying to tell you how I feel But I always come up short How beautiful you are to me But there aren’t enough words I keep trying to write a love song But it’s hard to say it well Love is a story that only time will tell
It’s one thing to say “for better or worse” And another when you find out what that means So much happens over time Some dreams come true and some will die How do you describe that kind of thing
I keep trying to tell you how I feel But I always come up short How beautiful you are to me But there aren’t enough words I keep trying to write a love song But it’s hard to say it well Love is a story that only time will tell
I’ve searched libraries And dictionaries Studied poets Still all I know is
I keep trying to tell you how I feel But I always come up short How beautiful you are to me But there aren’t enough words I keep trying to write a love song But it’s hard to say it well Love is a story that only time will tell Love is a story that only time will tell
PRETTY POWERFUL, STUFFS, huh, but not quite as powerful as the LOVE that’s shown here. J J Heller, is an artist I’ve loved for a long time because the music that she and her husband, Dave create often create something in us, or at least shines a light on what’s been created and now needs some special noticing.
J J goes on to share, even more personally:
This video gets me every single time.
When we’re young we make vows imagining an easy and wonderful future. We say “for better or worse” even though we don’t know what lies ahead. We promise to be faithful, supportive and true no matter what.
Making these promises is indeed an act of love, but living out this love in hospitals, worse-case diagnoses and late-night bouts with pain.. that’s a love on another level. A deeper, expanded love.
With that said, this beautiful video is dedicated to those fighting through intense physical challenges, and to those who love them fiercely and relentlessly.
A huge thank you to this brave couple who has allowed us to share part of their story with the world in hopes it will bring healing and encouragement.
And another giant thank you to Joy Prouty for capturing this sacred footage, both of their labor and delivery several years ago, and also of the recovery from a double mastectomy mere weeks ago.
And thanks to Dave Heller and Andy Gullahorn for writing this beautiful song with me.
Love is a story that only time will tell. 🧡
Just one Question:
WHAT
OF
YOUR
L O V E. . . ?
. . .so, do you
P R A Y. . .
HOW?
Head Bowed
Eyes Closed
Silently
Out Loud
With Music
With People
IN A CLOSET. . .
Think on this as Ellen Bass’s Poem tingles you brain cells as it drips into your soul:
PRAY FOR PEACE
Ellen Bass
Pray to whomever you kneel down to:
Jesus nailed to his wooden or plastic cross,
his suffering face bent to kiss you,
Buddha still under the bo tree in scorching heat,
Adonai, Allah. Raise your arms to Mary
that she may lay her palm on our brows,
to Shekhina, Queen of Heaven and Earth,
to Inanna in her stripped descent.
Then pray to the bus driver who takes you to work.
On the bus, pray for everyone riding that bus,
for everyone riding buses all over the world.
Drop some silver and pray.
Waiting in line for the movies, for the ATM,
for your latte and croissant, offer your plea.
Make your eating and drinking a supplication.
Make your slicing of carrots a holy act,
each translucent layer of the onion, a deeper prayer.
To Hawk or Wolf, or the Great Whale, pray.
Bow down to terriers and shepherds and Siamese cats.
Fields of artichokes and elegant strawberries.
Make the brushing of your hair
a prayer, every strand its own voice,
singing in the choir on your head.
As you wash your face, the water slipping
through your fingers, a prayer: Water,
softest thing on earth, gentleness
that wears away rock.
Making love, of course, is already prayer.
Skin, and open mouths worshipping that skin,
the fragile cases we are poured into.
If you’re hungry, pray. If you’re tired.
Pray to Gandhi and Dorothy Day.
Shakespeare. Sappho. Sojourner Truth.
When you walk to your car, to the mailbox,
to the video store, let each step
be a prayer that we all keep our legs,
that we do not blow off anyone else’s legs.
Or crush their skulls.
And if you are riding on a bicycle
or a skateboard, in a wheelchair, each revolution
of the wheels a prayer as the earth revolves:
less harm, less harm, less harm.
And as you work, typing with a new manicure,
a tiny palm tree painted on one pearlescent nail,
or delivering soda or drawing good blood
into rubber-capped vials, twirling pizzas–
With each breath in, take in the faith of those
who have believed when belief seemed foolish,
who persevered. With each breath out, cherish.
Pull weeds for peace, turn over in your sleep for peace,
feed the birds, each shiny seed
that spills onto the earth, another second of peace.
Wash your dishes, call your mother, drink wine.
Shovel leaves or snow or trash from your sidewalk.
Make a path. Fold a photo of a dead child
around your Visa card. Scoop your holy water
from the gutter. Gnaw your crust.
Mumble along like a crazy person, stumbling
your prayer through the streets.
Which bubbled this up inside of me
and now maybe you. . .
Bowing the head
gently
not tightly closing the eyes
as if you were greeting sleep
a few breaths away
and not strongly
squinting out the first rays
of a new day
Don’t pray that way
Wide eyed
head held high and firm
Blinkless
Offer up not what a mouth
can whisper
But a heart shouts
Full vibrato
To not make your needs known
But your promises
Powerfully Claimed
Humbly Received
Gratefully accepted
Pray that way
Not with a softend amen
But an exalted hurrah
and don’t blink
for fear of missing
the something
that compares to nothing
in this world
or the one
seemingly unfolding
before us all
especially if it’s
unlabeled
Psssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst:
WHEN YOU DON’T HAVE A PRAYER
BE
ONE
(The only true prayer you’ll ever really need is the one
YOU ARE
I’ve always been a Mary Oliver fan
but I’ll also admit that I’ve read much more of her
now that she’s dead
than when she was alive
I suppose which not only makes her
not only more Alive
than ALIVE
but still doing
what she did the best
(and still is)
S H A R E
As I page
through this Anthology
I often have the same feeling
that I have when I heard her voice
reading this poem
with a resounding
E C H O I N G
of when you need a prayer
notice that nothing all around you
is miraculously short of that
with the worldly unspoken invitation:
WHEN YOU DON’T HAVE A PRAYER
B E
O N E
(The only true prayer you’ll ever need
is the one you are)
