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		<title>Today I buried a woman</title>
		<link>http://rabbloggin.wordpress.com/2010/01/26/today-i-buried-a-woman/</link>
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		<pubDate>Tue, 26 Jan 2010 22:40:29 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[Today I buried an 89 year old woman. Small funeral on a cold, blank chapel at the Hebrew Cemetery. A son and a daughter, four relatives in total . A little bunch of &#8220;others&#8221; sitting way in the back of the chapel at the Hebrew Cemetery, almost removed from the others. Most of the locals [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=rabbloggin.wordpress.com&amp;blog=10244216&amp;post=83&amp;subd=rabbloggin&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Today I buried an 89 year old woman. Small funeral on a cold, blank chapel at the Hebrew Cemetery. A son and a daughter, four relatives in total . A little bunch of &#8220;others&#8221; sitting way in the back of the chapel at the Hebrew Cemetery, almost removed from the others. Most of the locals from my congregation didn&#8217;t know much about her. Just a name for a few of the elderly. Sometimes a name and some facts. I prayed for a soul inside a body I never got to see. Just a wooden box. I buried a wooden box. I prayed 2,000 year old psalms in the original Hebrew and English with some strange tune that came out of my throat but I had never heard before. Some sort of Jazz among the lonely graves. The tombstones with symbols of stars of David, and Menorahs, Priestly Blessings Hands, all carved with beautiful Hebrew characters. Names in ancient Yiddish, other tombstones with empty slates, for partners still waiting for the next journey together.<br />
I bury an unknown.  I wash my hands at the entrance. I stare at the tidy, lonely names. I think of the beautiful millenary traditions carved in simple symbols on a rock. With tiny rocks on top. The jewish version of bringing flowers to your dead. They last more. More perennial. Like the soul of your loved one. Flowers die in mere weeks.<br />
I see the name of God called many times in the burial prayers as the Rock. The Judge. And our actions, little rocks, pebbles that fall on top of that Cosmic Scale, our actions trumping reactions into our surroundings. All our actions. All our words. All our thoughts. karmic poodles in a vast ocean we call Reality.<br />
And there goes one more. Another dust and ashes ADAM has lost the anima that put it all together as an individual today. Back into the ground. I pray to the God that counts every star in the Universe and simultaneously takes account of every human heart that my soul does not become mechanic in the coping of the harshness of mortality, but at the same time teach me not to fall in despair if I open my soul too much into empathy.<br />
There is a Jewish way for when you are born, and there is a Jewish way for when you die. 99.99% of Jews I know try to not mess up with these two, the extremes. I hope I can make what happens in between, from the tip of semen to the food for worms we all come from and become, something truly meaningful, truly beautiful and truly everlasting.</p>
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		<title>Un café al medio dia</title>
		<link>http://rabbloggin.wordpress.com/2010/01/22/un-cafe-al-medio-dia/</link>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 22 Jan 2010 23:27:48 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>rabbloggin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[café]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Español]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Infancia]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Living Forever]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Muerte]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[the Universe and Everything]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[10:45 am: Celebrar con los niños del Kindergarden judío la llegada del Shabbat. Una jalá que se ve deliciosa pero es de plástico. Mi mente imagina que huele deliciosa, recién salida del horno. Y el vino ficticio en la hermosa copa de plata tallada con la Jerusalem de antaño. Los niños me ven, sentado en [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=rabbloggin.wordpress.com&amp;blog=10244216&amp;post=81&amp;subd=rabbloggin&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>10:45 am: Celebrar con los niños del Kindergarden judío la llegada del Shabbat. Una jalá que se ve deliciosa pero es de plástico. Mi mente imagina que huele deliciosa, recién salida del horno. Y el vino ficticio en la hermosa copa de plata tallada con la Jerusalem de antaño. Los niños me ven, sentado en una sillita que me hace ver como un titere gigante. Algunos se empiezan a reír cuando ven que me tomo un buen rato bebiendo de una copa que saben no tiene nada. Una niña pregunta a su maestra que quién es ese hombre sentado ahí al lado de la maestra. Nadie me introdujo. Soy el extraño gigante de barba, gabardina y bufanda a cuadros que los mira y les sonrríe. Este es Rabbi David. Luego mientras cantamos o las maestras hablan algo serio les hago caras. Muecas que jamás se esperarían de un adulto responsable. Lo chistoso es ver como ellos tratan de recrear tus muecas, o tus bailecitos, o como haces con los dedos y las manos cuando hablas o cuando llevas un ritmo. Son pequeñas espongitas absorbiendo cada detalle. Al final de las rondas de canciones tenia ya mi paciero que me señalaba a todos los niños que tenian cara de traviesos o malos. Ese es mi amigo. Y ese otro tambien. Ah, los buenos tiempos de la formación de tu tribu.<br />
11:50 am. Casi medio dia y me detengo por un café antes de mi próxima parada.<br />
Continua mi dia de visitas, ahora a un asilo de ancianos. Un lugar hermoso. Elegante y sereno. Los señores y señoras se ven serenos, diría que contentos a pesar del arduo proceso que sus enfermedades conllevan. Es impactante lo diametral opuesto de la sensacion al entrar, el contenido de las paredes, la serenidad de los colores, el silencio. Contrastado con lo colorido y vivaz del kinder, lo escandaloso, lo nuevo y explorador vs. lo contemplativo. Que lind ver en un parpadeo el cambio entre tus primeros pasos y tus ultimos. Donde te traen la merienda, donde hay enfermeras y enfermeros cuidando tus pasos. Tus pininos en reversa. Donde tu cuerpo vuelve a ser un extraño a lo que te rodea, hasta que tu mente va olvidando las cosas poco a poco. Me siento con uno de los señores que fui a visitar a almorzar. A escuchar de historia, de esta ciudad antes de que mis padres existieran. Reflexiono, escucho, reímos. Me señala a sus amigos y amigas también en el hospital. Quienes son su tribu? Y veo de repente en la cara de cada anciano una cara igual a la de los pequeños que recién visité. Vuelves a esos estados pristinos. Tan similar, sin embargo tan distinto.<br />
Y que sucede en el medio? Algo que siento es bien rápido. Tan rápido como ese café al medio dia.</p>
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		<title>metAMORfosis</title>
		<link>http://rabbloggin.wordpress.com/2010/01/21/metamorfosis/</link>
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		<pubDate>Thu, 21 Jan 2010 23:09:24 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>rabbloggin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Español]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poesia]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[Fue entonces cuando decidí permutar nuevamente. En que me convertiría en este instante? Tal vez en la textura de su vestido nuevo al cual toco mientras la miro a los ojos, sonrío y le digo lo hermosa que se ve. Impreso en su memoria. Jamás esa tela volverá a rozar su piel sin que se [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=rabbloggin.wordpress.com&amp;blog=10244216&amp;post=79&amp;subd=rabbloggin&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Fue entonces cuando decidí permutar nuevamente. En que me convertiría en este instante? Tal vez en la textura de su vestido nuevo al cual toco mientras la miro a los ojos, sonrío y le digo lo hermosa que se ve. Impreso en su memoria. Jamás esa tela volverá a rozar su piel sin que se acuerde de mi. O como aquella vez que me convertí en la esencia de mi perfume, y le impregné el cachete y sus cabellos con el aroma de mi almohada compartida. He tratado recientemente convertirme en una nota en una canción de Sinatra, pero requiere una concentración tremenda. Podría transformarme en el sabor de la fresa con chocolate que de mis dedos muerde, mientras la caricia y el beso graban. Impreso en la memoria. Me he convertido en frase, en acto y poesía. Mis hobbies y mis pasiones se riegan como polvorin, incendiando su mirada cuando sale una pelicula de algun comic, o un emblema, cuando ve magia, fantasía y diversión.<br />
Estoy regado en el éter, esperando a despertar en sus sentidos. No puede escapar. Se que estoy en sus armarios y en sus paisajes diarios, y en el perfume de alguna brisa. En sabores, olores, atardeceres, flores y sus colores, libros, chocolates y cartas de mal de amores. En su cabeza se va formando un hombre, SU hombre. Ellas son un hermoso sistema operativo cuyo generador principal es algo que llamamos emociones. Torbellinos de emociones! Y estos graban. Imprimen en memoria. Y ahi estas vivo, en cada momento, en cada sensación y sentimiento.<br />
Lo demás es carne. Generalmente antes que las de ellas se esfuman nuestras cenizas al viento, pero el conjunto de emociones que armaban la esencia, el fantasma, de su hombre en su corazón, ese viaja con ella para la eternidad. Y ahi me gusta vivir.<br />
En que me convertiré hoy?</p>
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		<title>Your Friendly Neighborhood Rabbi on AVATAR</title>
		<link>http://rabbloggin.wordpress.com/2010/01/16/your-friendly-neighborhood-rabbi-on-avatar/</link>
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		<pubDate>Sat, 16 Jan 2010 05:09:15 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>rabbloggin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[English]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[he first time I heard the word AVATAR was many years ago, during the boom of cybernetic culture. An avatar is an embodiment: a new personification of a familiar idea. In the case of computers is what represents you in the virtual world as a manifestation of you. It is the equivalent of your profile [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=rabbloggin.wordpress.com&amp;blog=10244216&amp;post=77&amp;subd=rabbloggin&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>he first time I heard the word AVATAR was many years ago, during the boom of cybernetic culture. An avatar is an embodiment: a new personification of a familiar idea. In the case of computers is what represents you in the virtual world as a manifestation of you. It is the equivalent of your profile picture. It is you but it is not exactly you, it is an image of you.<br />
At the same time I learned it is a religious term, used a lot in Hinduism, where the Force takes different avatars to manifest itself in the human realm. &#8220;The embodiment of hope&#8221;; &#8220;the incarnation of evil&#8221;; &#8220;the very avatar of cunning. the manifestation of a Hindu deity (especially Vishnu) in human or superhuman or animal form; &#8220;the Buddha is considered an avatar of the god Vishnu&#8221;.</p>
<p>The key line that defines for me the essence of James Cameron´s film Avatar is “what a beautiful brain”. The story tells us of how human beings have achieved technology to project themselves into genetically engineered alien bodies. As the human characters in the film use the genius of science and technology languages, we learn that the native species of the planet have achieved through other means, the same end. The &#8220;alien&#8221; natives of the planet, the 11 feet tall Na’vi, have the power, as well as most of the creatures that inhabit the planet Pandora, to interconnect physically with the mind of others. Other members of their species, other animals, and to what they consider the Tree of Life itself, the big brain of the planet, the source of life. The whole planet is interconnected in a visually clear way, giving the sensation that the whole planet is one giant organism, like a coral reef, a giant brain in which every creature, every plant, every thing, is a synapse, another branch of the brain lighting electrical discharges against each other.<br />
I believe Beauty is in the power to interconnect, where the pure self becomes intensely aware of the other, where that illusion of &#8220;otherness&#8221; drops. Then you see yourself in a connection with what you thought was something separated. True empathy is created in this connection, and this connection can be a spiderweb of other interconnections ad infinitum.<br />
The en vogue word and philosophy trying to spread around the world is to be Green. Green is saving the tree, but there has been for a while another movement. Blue. Blue is saving yourself through the awareness of the interconnectivity of this little blue planet, something so small and insignificant in the vast perspective of the universe, yet each of its parts so complex, so unique, so precious. For example, neurons in our head do some interaction at night, and from that this moving soul creates a story. This story spreads to the neurons of other moving souls. And they exchange an experience that was “imagined”. A simple spark caused by all the salts and chemicals in your body, made more connections than those stars in the universe out there, to those whose magnitude makes us feel so small. They illuminate and send these messages through the material construct that allows them to exist in the physical realm (i.e your flesh-made brain, with all its complexities and connections, and all the machinery that we maintain working through the conversion of energies borrowed from other existing things flowing with more of these sparks, some of us call them vitamins, nutrients, klipot, energy, calories, whatever you call or count them.<br />
The beauty of how the actors themselves are avatars in this amazing new technology is almost awe inspiring. Cameron has always pushed the technologies with his movies (The Abyss, T2, Titanic, and his robotic submarine explorations in IMAX3D). He created his childhood dream-movie (remember, the guy who made the top-selling movie of all time, with this amazing imagination!) so they created a whole planet in the most realistic way possible.<br />
The plot is criticized by some because it is “simplistic”. So is Titanic then “just” another love story. Poor guy meets rich girl, just happens to be in a sinking boat. People simplify stories when their content is primal, basic. They call it childish sometimes. These are the people who became so “adult” that killed their inner child, the inner Buddha, the pure part of your soul that stare you in the face and tell you “there is no spoon”.<br />
For my part, I love basic, Jungian stories, and this movie tells many layers of a myth necessary for our times delivered in a beautiful, artistic way of moviemaking, the dream factory, the machine that we have created through language, in this case computers and cameras, and spread the stories we want to share, the dreams we make into reality, the avatar of our consciousness trying to come from dreamworld into this flesh reality. The movie carries many messages for the new generation, those who are always socializing through Nintendo DS, Facebook, Tweeter, etc etc. This interconnected generation needs to remember that their images are just avatars. There is a reality behind, as if the “real” world is just another “Facebook”, another place where we put our image, a representation of us, but not us. Not really, but almost.<br />
AVATAR tells about the need to protect all the outer layers of interconnectivity, from the inner, dream-walker self, to the tribe, the extended surrounding, the society, the city, the planet, beyond. This masterpiece of 21th century movie making is here to teach us, just as the characters on the movie,about the interconnectivity of this electric signatures we call synapses, brain activity, personality, is connected on a much higher level.</p>
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		<title>The day after I turned 30</title>
		<link>http://rabbloggin.wordpress.com/2010/01/16/the-day-after-i-turned-30/</link>
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		<pubDate>Sat, 16 Jan 2010 05:07:05 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>rabbloggin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[English]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Muerte]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[the Universe and Everything]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://rabbloggin.wordpress.com/?p=75</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Today I feel not older, but wiser. Yesterday I had a whole day to meditate in joy and celebrate the daily miracle of being alive. I ate my favorite foods (Sushi for lunch, Brazilian churrasco for dinner) and had a lot of fun with friends. I became a member of the museum of science in [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=rabbloggin.wordpress.com&amp;blog=10244216&amp;post=75&amp;subd=rabbloggin&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Today I feel not older, but wiser. Yesterday I had a whole day to meditate in joy and celebrate the daily miracle of being alive. I ate my favorite foods (Sushi for lunch, Brazilian churrasco for dinner) and had a lot of fun with friends. I became a member of the museum of science in Boston (and last week from the Currier museum of arts here in Manchester NH). It is good to finally have your money and support the arts and the sciences, key elements to a good life that have to go together in everybody&#8217;s soul.<br />
Today, I had one of those days. Those days are the ones that start with one of the elderly from your congregation spent the night in the hospital because a bad rhythm in his heart. When you have a conversation with another elderly woman who tells you about the brain surgery to take a malign tumor from her nephew, a rabbi who also carries my same name. Then in the afternoon I visit a 87 year old man dying. I pray to him, telling him that whatever he decides, to go to the other side or stay with us may be without too much pain and suffering, and with the awareness of having lived a good life. I really dont remember what I say in these moments, it just flows, and when i dont know what to say i repeat slowly the dancing hebrew letters in my Siddur, the jewish prayer book.<br />
And what did I do in between all these visits and conversations? I went to run in the snow (this Jungle Jew loooves the snow nowadays!), I took pictures, enjoyed the sunset and the beautiful colors in which the dusk was tainting the canvas of heaven. I ate more of my cake, more chocolate, and of course fruits. I answered each birthday greeting in a personal way, trying to think of a moment, a conversation, a sweet, good interaction with each of the members of my Life tribe. I tried to manifest a little bit of love, a lot of laughter, and a lot of neuron tickling to those who learn from my interpretations of Ancient Wisdom.<br />
And above all, I breathe and enjoy every second my heart beats. Life is a underestimated miracle, sometimes it takes a whole lifetime to be aware of it, and by that time is usually too late.<br />
I am thankful. For everything. Le&#8217;Chaim! To Life!</p>
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		<title>God was not in the earthquake</title>
		<link>http://rabbloggin.wordpress.com/2010/01/16/god-was-not-in-the-earthquake/</link>
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		<pubDate>Sat, 16 Jan 2010 04:54:37 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>rabbloggin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[I sang with trepidation the psalms that form the Kabbalat Shabbat service this weekend. They are full of imagery of God`s might making the earth shake, tremble, melting mountains like wax, destroying nations. The first series of psalms (95 to 99, and 29, six psalms representing the six days of creation) talk about God`s awesome [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=rabbloggin.wordpress.com&amp;blog=10244216&amp;post=71&amp;subd=rabbloggin&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I sang with trepidation the psalms that form the Kabbalat Shabbat service this weekend. They are full of imagery of God`s might making the earth shake, tremble, melting mountains like wax, destroying nations. The first series of psalms (95 to 99, and 29, six psalms representing the six days of creation) talk about God`s awesome power as God creates and permeates all the Natural realm. These psalms are structured in a way that leads from the perception of God as Judge of all the Natural world, evolving into the realm of humans, the nations and achieving its peak with God´s revelation with the giving of Law, Teachings and a structured society.<br />
What bothered me this weekend was that the language of these psalms resonated in my head with those events that happened this week in Haiti. An earthquake kills 100,000 people in one of the poorest countries in the world, and here I am singing about earthquakes and God`s justice. On top of that, we are reading in the Book of Shmot (Exodus) about how God will chasten the Egyptians by sending 10 plagues, ten natural disasters that will leave the land in desolation.</p>
<p>Every time a catastrophe like this happens we find fundamentalists, Jewish, Christian, Muslims, spilling their twisted view on reality blaming the victims of the place for the cause of their afflictions. I`ve heard some of these religious leaders braying all kinds of nonsense: That hurricane Katrina happened because Mardi Gras, the Tsunami happened because of idol worshiping, even heard Jews saying that the Holocaust happened in Germany because that was the cradle of Reform Judaism. Now I hear comments about Haitian making deals with the devil  (voodoo).</p>
<p>Humans need answers to everything, even more when the sensation of being so small is so overwhelming and we need to make sense out of things. We need to assign name and causes to everything, and when the magnitude is so big, like in the case of this earthquake, our questions about God and God´s intervention in the world abound, and the answers can be, well, pretty stupid.</p>
<p>I don´t believe in this God that stretches God`s arm to punish, to see us like a sadistic puppet show.</p>
<p>This week we read in the parasha (weekly Torah portion) about the moment that for the first time God reveals God-self to Moses. Moses, as any other human, needs to give a name to this deity, something that can encapsulate the essence or nature of this god. You need names and concepts if you want to share this experience with other people. But the moment something infinite as God receives a name or a characteristic it immediately limits Himself into the limited realm, the realm of human language. The name God gives to Moses is Y-H-V-H, a word derived from the verb To Be that could be translated as “I am who I am”, “I will be who I’ll be” or maybe even “Be-ing”. Just Be-ing. God was, God is, God will be.</p>
<p>During the week we read the portion called Yitro (in which the ten commandments are given) we read the Haftarah (complementary prophetic reading) from the book of Kings. In it we find the prophet Elijah confused, looking for answers. He climbs up God’s holy mountain, in a way of emulating Moses’ revelatory experience. What he finds is an experience that through the years has become one of my favorite passages of the Tanakh (Jewish Bible).</p>
<p>It says:</p>
<p>God said, “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of God, for God is about to pass by.”</p>
<p>Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before God, but God was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but God was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but God was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave.</p>
<p>Then a voice said to him, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”</p>
<p>This is the God I believe in. I don’t find God in the earthquake, but in the silent whisper that prompts us to act, to help others. Y-H-V-H, a sound without vowels,the sound of breathing, the gentle whispers that moves our hearts and fills our heads with ideas. Ideas about love, about philanthropy, about brotherhood, about life, the universe and everything. Some people spend their days talking about how God hates homosexuals, other ethnic groups, people who practice religion differently, people with different economic statuses. They spend their time talking about how many angels can dance on the top of a needle, or counting  letters of texts or how many souls a specific human being has.</p>
<p>I encourage all of you to practice the following: Stay still, listen to the soft whisper and you will hear what is trying to tell you:</p>
<p>WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?</p>
<p>The answer is blowing in the wind.</p>
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		<title>Lengua materna</title>
		<link>http://rabbloggin.wordpress.com/2009/12/18/lengua-materna/</link>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 18 Dec 2009 19:42:57 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>rabbloggin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Feminismo]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Muerte]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Shemah]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spirituality]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://rabbloggin.wordpress.com/?p=69</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[En estos días recibí una llamada de un miembro de mi sinagoga para contarme que su madre estaba muriendo, y tenía una petición especial. Su madre era hija de padres imigrantes que habian llegado a Nueva York y hasta la edad de cuatro años solamente hablaba español y ladino. Ahora, a los 93 años, luchaba [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=rabbloggin.wordpress.com&amp;blog=10244216&amp;post=69&amp;subd=rabbloggin&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>En estos días recibí una llamada de un miembro de mi sinagoga para contarme que su madre estaba muriendo, y tenía una petición especial. Su madre era hija de padres imigrantes que habian llegado a Nueva York y hasta la edad de cuatro años solamente hablaba español y ladino. Ahora, a los 93 años, luchaba en un estado casi inconciente por su vida en la cama de un hospital y sus hijos querìan que escuchara el Shemá Israel y unas cuantas palabras en español.<br />
Mientras caminaba hacia su cuarto, su hijo me contaba que tanto él como su hermano habían nacido en ese mismo hospital. Yo le dije que ese hospital era entonces un lugar casi-sagrado, el portal donde habia venido al mundo y a la misma vez el lugar donde aquella que lo trajo habría de morir, un nexo de su universo. Le gustó mucho el pensamiento y quedó meditando al respecto.<br />
Cuando entré al cuarto vi a la señora, frágil, casi sin vida. Su respiración era un sonido de obstruccion al respirar y un pequeño gemido al expirar. No estaba en coma pero la morfina la tenía en un estado casi comatoso. No había respondido a la voz de sus familiares en las últimas horas.<br />
Un tanto nervioso me acerqué a su cama. Con una voz fuerte y proyectada le dije en español que estaba aqui con sus hijos, con su familia, y que había tenido una buena y larga vida, y que si era hora de partir que lo hiciera con tranquilidad. Le dije suavemente el Shemá, plegaria central de nuestro pueblo, la cual tradicionalmente son las palabras que un padre o una madre enseña a sus hijos, y debe ser la ùltima oración de los labios de un judío a la hora de su muerte. Mientras recitaba lentamente las palabras y los rezos, algo sucedió. Ella abrió los ojos y sonrió un poco.<br />
Al dia siguiente su hijo me contó que su madre había muerto, y las últimas palabras que había escuchado en este mundo eran las mías.<br />
Lo que mas me intriga de este relato, no es que me haya sucedido, sino que es la tercera vez que algo similar me sucede. Ya me ocurrió con el tío de una amiga, quien en estado de coma despues de varios días también abrió los ojos repentinamente cuando le rezaba. También en otra visita a una tía mia que estaba muy mal en el hospital pude presenciar como sus diagnosticos en la maquina que la mantenia conectada cambiaron dramaticamente cuando escuchaba los rezos.<br />
Y hay algo que más me intriga aún: Que solo he hecho tres visitas en mi vida a pacientes en este estado.<br />
Que creer cuando te suceden cosas asi?A veces me da por soñar que tengo algun tipo de talento o regalo que puede ayudar a la gente a sanar, o aunque sea a hacer el paso de este mundo al otro un proceso menos doloroso.<br />
Pero de lo que si estoy cada vez más seguro es del poder del rezo y del poder de la palabra.<br />
Las palabras nos van rodeando desde que sentimos las vibraciones en el vientre de nuestra madre hasta el momento de nuestra muerte. Aprendemos cada vez mas palabras, nuevos idiomas, nuevas formas de expresión y llevar la literatura a niveles sublimes. Pero estoy seguro que al envejecer o al estar enfermo al borde de la muerte nuestros cerebros se van desprendiendo de todas las capas que hemos aprendido durante nuestra vida, cada año como una corteza pelandose, hasta llegar al centro absoluto de nuestra conciencia. Y es ahí, en ese lugar, donde solo nuestra lengua materna va quedando, nuestras primeras palabras, nuestros primeros sonidos, las primeras vibraciones en el vientre, y después&#8230;<br />
SHEMAH- escucha. El sonido del universo entero desenvolviendose nuevamente dentro de ti convirtiendote en parte de Todo.<br />
Ahora que comienza un nuevo año, un nuevo ciclo de oportunidades, trata de honrar a tu madre sea cual sea tu relación con ella dandole uso positivo a tus palabras, a ese regalo divino que tomamos por desapercibido, y recuerda que la vida es mucho mas corta de lo que te imaginas.</p>
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		<title>The Times are A-Changing</title>
		<link>http://rabbloggin.wordpress.com/2009/12/16/the-times-are-a-changing/</link>
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		<pubDate>Wed, 16 Dec 2009 16:42:58 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>rabbloggin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[English]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[the Universe and Everything]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Time]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Torah]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[I have a love/hate relationship with Time. I am so in love with Time that I invest so much of it studying it, its history, its relativity, its meaning&#8230;and then I neglect what people call &#8220;real&#8221; time. But is something more real because it happens in the moment than what it is for someone who [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=rabbloggin.wordpress.com&amp;blog=10244216&amp;post=67&amp;subd=rabbloggin&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I have a love/hate relationship with Time. I am so in love with Time that I invest so much of it studying it, its history, its relativity, its meaning&#8230;and then I neglect what people call &#8220;real&#8221; time. But is something more real because it happens in the moment than what it is for someone who dwells in the past, studying the philosophies,languages, art, music, paintings, and correlations between all of them. I get lost in books and projects and ideas in my own head, and juggling all these calendars at the same time is very hard for me. And what a profession I chose! I have realized how rabbis are some sort of Time Keepers. You are there to remind people about cycles. The Torah Cycle teachings. The Lunar calendar events. The Sun calendar events. The historical events. The Life cycles. The death memorial cycles. The weekly cycles. I also don`t like that time runs so fast. I love so many things that time brings such as wisdom and sexy white sideburns ; but i also see the pains and suffering that come along as well, such as the reminders of the mortality of flesh and losing so many things we love to the hands of TIme. It makes my world too vertiginous.</p>
<p>And then there is the side of me who spends so many hours reading not about the past but the future, the possibilities of how things can improve for the betterment of humanity and sometimes pointing us at warning signs to avoid pitfalls. If you know me by now you should have realized that I love everything that has to do with science fiction, technological gadgets, and the future. My favorite movie when I was kid was Back to the Future Part II, in which in the year 2015 we would be having flying cars and floating skateboards.<br />
We are now entering the year 2010. For the last few years my adult dreams of the future were becoming 30 as a recently initiated rabbi working in a congregation.<br />
HINENI. Temple Israel in Manchester New Hampshire. Just as the oracle predicted!<br />
So technically the future is now. At least for my last big dream. Now what? What is my goal for this community that has embraced me so candidly?<br />
I think we need to do a lot of collective reflections about what the future is going to be. I want to bring more events to different age groups, specially those who were born after man landed on the moon.<br />
There are generational vacuums in synagogues not only through New Hampshire but all around the world. I want to share with you how the world is changing faster and faster and how synagogues are not updating or adapting to the pace or search for meaning in the new generations.<br />
We need computers, a projector and many other tools that in my hands will be an alchemic blend of technology and the art of teaching. Incorporating so many of the different styles, sources and mediums I have shared with you through the last few months. If you build it they will come. We might be able to provide the best 21st century Jewish education for all ages.<br />
We need to honor the past and at the same time learn from our tradition`s appreciation for what the juggling of dates does to your soul and to the human condition. But we need to know when to make way for the new generations. Perhaps their voices have not been heard.<br />
I want to make Temple Israel the meeting point where generations can dwell together, honoring the past, living the present, and dreaming the future.<br />
May the Force make You live long and prosper and give you peace.</p>
<p>Rabbi David</p>
<p>P.S: (I still hope that in the next five years my fantasy of having my own Hover-board will come true¡)</p>
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		<title>Why Satan MATTERS</title>
		<link>http://rabbloggin.wordpress.com/2009/12/06/why-satan-matters/</link>
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		<pubDate>Sun, 06 Dec 2009 01:28:54 +0000</pubDate>
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				<category><![CDATA[English]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Job]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Maimonides]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Spirituality]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[the Universe and Everything]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Why Satan MATTERS Maimonides on the Book of Job by Rabbi David Cohen-Henriquez It is not surprising that the great Maimonides´analysis on the book of Job would strip the supernatural elements of angels and demons to present us with a discourse on philosophy and understanding of life through the sciences. The book of Job deals [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=rabbloggin.wordpress.com&amp;blog=10244216&amp;post=55&amp;subd=rabbloggin&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Why Satan MATTERS</p>
<p>Maimonides on the Book of Job</p>
<p>by Rabbi David Cohen-Henriquez</p>
<p>It is not surprising that the great Maimonides´analysis on the book of Job would strip the supernatural elements of angels and demons to present us with a discourse on philosophy and understanding of life through the sciences.</p>
<p>The book of Job deals with the issue of theodicy that attempts to explain why is there pain and suffering in this world. The agonizing set of events that engulfs Job during the narrative is the result of a cosmic debate between God and Satan, one of his divine beings.</p>
<p>For a rationalist as Maimonides it is hard to believe the story in its literal sense. Therefore he explains the figures of angels and divine creatures are symbols of different forces of nature, are and represented in the Bible in an allegorical way. Therefore each angel represents a different element, force, emotion, intellect; angels are the representation of all that exists.</p>
<p>Yet it is the figure of Satan, the fallen angel, which is harder to describe. What does he represent? Is he the root of evil, and if so why does God let him exist?</p>
<p>First we have to understand what Satan symbolizes. If all the other angels represent something in the natural world Satan becomes the privation, lack or absence of the natural form of something in an object of creation. It´s the corruption of matter, its decay. The natural world, Creation, is unstable and decays, it falls.</p>
<p>We can understand from this that Satan is not only “the fallen angel”, but also the angel that makes things fall, draws them back to nothingness. It is also the reason in the story of Job it is said that Satan has come from roaming the earth. His place is down here, in the physical, decaying, limited Creation realm, and not in the Heavens, where things are eternal and pure.</p>
<p>Without privation and decay there would be no existence. In order for life to exist there needs to be a balance, a constant struggle between decay and aspiration towards the source of life. Decay and privation has to  happen to give change to new life to appear as well as to keep the current existing life form in a homeostatic point.</p>
<p>We can take as an example an organ of the body; if the cells in the organ start decaying too fast it creates malfunction and disease and eventually death. However, if cellular death never happened the growth would not be regulated and we would end up with a tumor, a saturation of the expansion of the life process of the cells.</p>
<p>It is our misunderstanding of this natural process of how things work in life that,  like the hero of our story, we human beings cannot fathom the reason why these things happen and we classify them under the label of Evil or Bad.</p>
<p>These types of “evils” occur in three different levels according to Maimonides:</p>
<p>The natural disasters, which is the most basic and raw manifestation of this entity.</p>
<p>The violence that humans cause others, which is the second level.</p>
<p>The harm that we cause ourselves, which is the level of diseases and internal pains caused by us voluntarily or by neglecting the needs of our bodies, falling into diseases according to Maimonides’ medieval understanding of medicine.</p>
<p>The book of Job comes to explain about the limitations that we humans have over knowledge and the ways of understanding the Universe that surrounds us, the visible and the invisible. If we follow Maimonides view the story teaches us about achieving a psychological level of understanding that would lead us to an immunity towards suffering, understanding and loving the world as well as the Creator, and avoid falling in desperation and depression when the limited world falls pray of the decay brought by privation.</p>
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		<title>Niños de ojos azules</title>
		<link>http://rabbloggin.wordpress.com/2009/12/01/ninos-de-ojos-azules/</link>
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		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Dec 2009 06:42:06 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>rabbloggin</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[Un niño y una niña ensimismados en sus mundos de fantasía ella en sus jardines de hadas y elfos el en sus viajes espaciales. Y vino un dia, en que crecidos ya los niños bajaron sus respectivos libros y sus miradas se encontraron. Un fulgor lapislázuli consumió sus almas al encontrarse sus ojos con rayos [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=rabbloggin.wordpress.com&amp;blog=10244216&amp;post=53&amp;subd=rabbloggin&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Un niño y una niña<br />
ensimismados en sus mundos de fantasía<br />
ella en sus jardines de hadas y elfos<br />
el en sus viajes espaciales.<br />
Y vino un dia, en que crecidos ya los niños<br />
bajaron sus respectivos libros<br />
y sus miradas se encontraron.<br />
Un fulgor lapislázuli consumió sus almas<br />
al encontrarse sus ojos<br />
con rayos intensos casi tangibles;<br />
cada parpadeo un latido ponderoso,<br />
un aleteo de mariposas en el estomago,<br />
un aullido que emana de cada centimetro de sus cuerpos<br />
gritando a los a cuatro vientos:<br />
¨por fin has llegado, mi compañero de juegos¨.<br />
¨Por fin has llegado, mi musa,<br />
mi princesa para rescatar en mil historias ¨<br />
Mil historias para contarse<br />
mil historias para soñarse mutuamente<br />
ella en el y el en ella;<br />
y en la oscuridad ,<br />
mientras que en sus cuerpos encuentran sus sueños<br />
y en sus sueños sus cuerpos,<br />
solo se aprecia el brillo de sus ojos<br />
y sus risas de niños<br />
explorando los universos y las forestas encantadas<br />
que son sus corazones.<br />
Dos niños solitarios y felices<br />
que después de tanto tiempo vuelven a ser niños,<br />
niños de ojos azules.</p>
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