Today is one of those days when I look at the world around me, around us, and realize that the only response I have is to pray.
Our world is on fire - literally and figuratively. I am fearful. I don't know what to say or what to do. And so I pray. I pray for safety. I pray for understanding. I pray for compassion. I pray that my words and my actions in these moments of intensity are sources of strength and comfort, rather than fuel. I pray for my own strength to continue wrestling with the big questions I have in my head - about integrity, about love, about how to best serve the Jewish people and thus serve the world. I pray for the world and all of its inhabitants, that we all might someday know peace and safety.
I do I know what to do - reach out to those affected by the fires, be available to those who call me rabbi (whether on campus, on Facebook, by phone, or on street corners), continue to move financial resources to places where they can be the most effective, continue to educate myself about the world, carry myself with the integrity and compassion I wish to see in the world, and put one foot in front of the other. But first. But first today I pray.
What a privilege it is to have the inclination and capacity to pray at my fingertips, to have the muscle memory of opening my heart and my soul to the unknown, to be able to set aside questions of theology in service of prayer itself. I believe that each of you has this capacity and gain strength knowing that many of you are praying too.
Feel free to reach out. Feel free to pray alongside of me, to sit quietly, to just say hello, or to pour out your heart. I'm here.