I Get By With a Little Help From My Friends

I almost said “no.” I’m grateful I didn’t. Sometimes the moments we’re most tempted to skip become the ones that bring the greatest blessings to our lives.

Earlier this week, I found myself humming the Beatles’ familiar refrain: “I get by with a little help from my friends.”

The song came to mind because dear friends from Toronto flew to Nashville for a business trip. Since they love country music, they brought their children along to turn this into a mini vacation. They asked if I could meet them halfway for dinner because we had not seen one another in quite some time.

At first, I hesitated.

After a very early morning and a full day of work, I was not eager to spend two hours driving. I also hoped to make more progress unpacking boxes at home.

Then I realized I was focusing more on my to-do list than on what truly mattered.

Opportunities to be together are rare, and these friends are extraordinary. They are kind, thoughtful, and go out of their way to stay connected, no matter how many miles separate us. They inspire me to live more purposefully, make healthier choices, think more deeply, and strive to be a better friend to those around me.

The boxes could wait.

Friendships cannot.

Relationships must be nurtured, tended, and cherished because none of us knows what tomorrow will bring.

So I made the drive to dinner at The Smoke House Patio on top of Monteagle Mountain, about an hour from Chattanooga.

As I drove home, I reflected on this beautiful secular teaching about the blessing of friendship:

“The people we surround ourselves with either raise or lower our standards. They either help us become the best version of ourselves or encourage us to become lesser versions of ourselves. We become like our friends. No man becomes great on his own. No woman becomes great on her own. The people around them help to make them great. We all need people in our lives who raise our standards, remind us of our essential purpose, and challenge us to become the best version of ourselves.” (Matthew Kelly, The Rhythm of Life).

His words reminded me of this week’s Torah portion, Eikev, which teaches that life is sustained by far more than our physical needs. In Deuteronomy 8:3 we read: “One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of the Eternal.” (Deuteronomy 8:3).

Of course, we need food, water, and shelter. The Torah reminds us, however, that human beings also hunger for purpose, meaning, relationships, and the presence of God.

Modern philosopher Martin Buber suggests, in his seminal work “I and Thou”, that in every interaction we have a choice: to view others as fellow humans with whom we share the basic essence of life, or as things: pawns to be moved, scenery for our dramas, obstacles in our way, or competitors to be vanquished. When we view others as fellow humans, God dwells within those relationships.

Buber is elaborating on a medieval teaching by Abraham Ibn Ezra (Medieval Spanish rabbi, commentator, and scientist) who explains our Torah text by saying that humans are sustained by what emanates from the heavenly spheres, and these emanations are spiritual in nature.

How might we understand this today? Perhaps we, too, emanate from those heavenly spheres, carrying within us a spark of the Divine. Perhaps we sustain one another through our relationships with each other and with God. Is there a spiritual energy that emanates from heaven, one which we must seek if we are to be sustained, to thrive, and not merely survive?

What are your thoughts?

For me, I get by with a little help from my friends, my family, my congregational community, the greater community, and, above all, God.

As we begin counting down the weeks until the Yamim Nora’im, the High Holy Days, may each of us reflect on what truly sustains us. Who are the people who help us become our best selves? How do we nurture those relationships? Where do we encounter God’s presence in the people who walk beside us?

May we invest in the relationships that nourish our souls, strengthen our spirits, and help us not merely survive, but truly thrive.

Shabbat Shalom!

Rabbi Sharon L. Sobel

May the Force Be With You: A Jewish View

This is a very special Shabbat – ‘Shabbat Star Wars.’ I’m sure that everyone is aware that the new Star Wars movie opened last night. So I  thought that this evening would be a good time to spend a few moments sharing some thoughts on the many things the movies can teach us and the themes they share with our ancient Jewish texts.

r2d2This sermon — which takes place a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away — can be found here. (And you can find all my sermons by clicking “On the Bima” in the menu.)

The Blessing of Friendship

I had the pleasure of bringing my four-year old nephew Xavi to pre-school on a Monday morning when I was visiting two weeks ago.

My four-year old nephew, Xavi and his friend at their pre-school.
My four-year old nephew, Xavi and his friend at their pre-school.

As we entered his classroom, one of his friends was so excited to see him after the weekend, she ran up to him, threw her arms around his neck and gave him a huge hug. “Xavi! I missed you!” she exclaimed. With her arm wrapped around his waist, she peppered him with questions: “Do you like my headband? Do you like my pretty dress? Do you like my shoes?” And she wouldn’t let go.

Xavi, the good friend that he is, answered each question in the affirmative. He added that she looked very pretty. And they ran off to play.

I loved watching their excitement and enthusiasm at seeing each other after a weekend of being apart. Even at very young ages, we are able to develop deep and meaningful friendships.

I remember when one of my friends was moving from Toronto to Los Angeles with his young family for a new job. His three year old daughter was terribly sad at leaving all her friends. She informed her parents: “You will need to make me a going away party so that I can say ‘good-by’ to my friends. This move is going to be very difficult for me – I can’t imagine living so far away from my friends!'”

I am reflecting on all of this now as I too, am in the process of packing my home and office to move half-way across the country to begin a new position. My friends here in Highland Park are sad to see me leave. I am trying to assure them that I keep my friends for life, that they will always be with me, no matter where I go.

I love to collect things: artwork, books, Judaica, culinary items. My “things” help to make my house feel like a “home” no matter where I’m living.

However, like many of us, the older I get, I realize my most treasured “collection” can’t be boxed up or put on display. My most treasured collection is the friendships I’ve developed over the course of my life.

I have friends ranging in age from their teens’s to their 90’s. I have friends who have been with me from childhood and friends who I met just recently. My friends come from all walks of life, live in many different countries and cross the political-religious-race spectrums.

True friends are not the people we necessarily meet on Facebook (although deep and meaningful friendships have been known to begin that way) or online. But true friendship is defined by those people who are there for us through “thick and thin.” They are present for us in times of rejoicing, in times of grief and in the every day ordinary moments as well.

The rabbis of old tell a story about a man named Ivan, who asks his friend: “Tell me my friend, do you know what gives me pain?” His friend replies, “How can I know what gives you pain?!” Ivan replies: “True friends know what pains us. They know what gives us pleasure. They know when to say a kind word and when to keep silent in our presence.” His friend then learned what he needed to do in order to become a better friend.

Many of my friends live far away: Toronto, Hawaii, Israel. Some of them will always pick up the phone and call to check in. We know that email or a text message or Facebook can’t replace the sound of hearing someone’s voice. They will come and spend time with me in person for both joyful occasions, ordinary moments and difficult times. And I try to be there for them as well. To have friends, one must be a friend. I am not always a perfect friend, I am not always as good at staying “in touch” as I would like, but I do try my best.

Our Jewish tradition teaches us (Avot d’Rabbi Natan 8) that we should “Acquire yourself a friend.” What is the meaning of this text? The commentators say that this text teaches us that we should acquire a friend with whom to eat and drink, read and study, sleep and share secrets of Torah and personal secrets.

In the beginning of the Torah, as part of the creation story, God says: “It is not good for man to be alone. I will make a fitting help-mate for him.” God then creates Eve. People are meant to live in relationships: with partners, with friends, with community.

As a Jewish community, this notion is reinforced by the fact that we need a minyan – a quorum of 10 people – in order to recite certain prayers. As a people, we believe that it is important to live in community, surrounded by others. As Jews, we do not live in isolation. We cannot celebrate the passage of time or the cycle of life alone. The power of friendships and the power of community can be uplifting indeed.

So as I prepare for the next phase of the journey of my professional career, I feel incredibly blessed and strengthened by the incredible friendships that have sustained and nurtured me throughout my life. These friendships are my most precious gift, my most precious “treasured possession” which I carry in my heart always.

Some of my friends and me
Some of my friends and me