The Fly Fishing Rabbi

The Fly Fishing Rabbi meets The Fly Fishing Professor

2008-05-12T15:16:00.015-04:00

I was thrilled when Professor Ken Lokensgard invited me to present a guest lecture in his class on fly fishing and religion. Ken teaches in the religion department at Gettysburg College in Gettysburg, PA. Once every other spring, he offers a class on fly fishing and religion entitled “Fly-fishing in Spirit, Language and Practice.” I quickly wrote back the Fly Fishing Professor, and we chose a late April date for my visit to Gettysburg.

After an impossibly long drive from New York City to Gettysburg in the rain, I met Ken for lunch. Ken is from Missoula, Montana, which instantly gave him fly fishing credibility in my eyes. He does his research on the religion of the Blackfoot Native American tribe. I also discovered that like me, Ken is a fly fishing fanatic, taking trips in Pennsylvania and Montana as often as he can. Ken even had a small dry fly prominently mounted on the dashboard of his car. As we got to know each other during my three day visit, I was amazed how much we had in common. Ken and I study and teach about religion and we are both obsessed with fly fishing. We had many great discussions about Native American religion, Judaism, the midge fly fishermen of Central Pennsylvania and fly fishing trips to Montana, Colorado and Argentina.

Picture: The Fly Fishing Professor (left) and The Fly Fishing Rabbi

I joined Ken’s class on a Tuesday morning at 8:30 am to offer my presentation on Judaism and fly fishing. Ken told me that he invited many guests to speak over the semester, including a member of the local Trout Unlimited branch and a devout Christian who loves to fly fish. However, I was the first rabbi to lecture in his class, and perhaps the first rabbi that many of his students had ever met.

The twenty five or so students listened attentively as I spoke about the basics of Judaism, how I discovered my love of fly fishing, and the connections that I see between fly fishing and Judaism. We had a great discussion about the ethics of fly fishing and if fly fishing for sport is humane. We even debated if it is morally acceptable to mount a fish that you catch on the wall. (I practice catch and release fly fishing most of the time, but I do keep the occasional trout for food. Since you cannot eat a fish that you mount, I argued that it is not a good idea.) When the class ended, I felt that I had made connections with the students and that we benefited from the time that we spent together.

When I was not in the classroom, or visiting the Gettysburg Hillel where the Jewish college students gather for prayer and programs, I was fly fishing. Ken and John, a local guide, took me fly fishing on the famous central Pennsylvania streams. We fished the Yellow Breeches River, Letort Spring Run and the Conewago Creek multiple times. The fishing was hard. John, who works at the local fly shop, is an excellent fly fisher; he caught and released many trout on small rainbow midges. I was not so fortunate, hooking only one small trout on the Yellow Breeches that broke the line before I could get him into the net.

The afternoon we spent on the Letort Spring Run was memorable more for its connection to fly fishing history than catching any fish. The Letort is an extremely difficult stream to fish, filled with wild brown trout who will not rise easily to a fly. Two central PA fly fishers, Vince Marinaro and Charlie Fox, unlocked the secrets of this stream, fishing long leaders and small tippets. Vince one said: “The Letort is a hard taskmaster and does not treat lightly any violation of dry fly technique.” The only mark I could make on the Letort was leaving my Fly Fishing Rabbi card there. About ten feet off of the stream, there was a black mailbox with a small binder in it. I added my card to the collection of others from fly fishing guides and stores and I felt like I was a small part of the long history of this place.

Picture: Walking up to the Letort Spring Run

On the last morning of my trip, I had a decision to make. I had told myself that I would take some time during the three days to visit the Gettysburg site and learn more about the famous Civil War battle. On the other hand, it was shaping up to be a fine fly fishing day, slightly overcast, and I had not caught any trout on this trip. So I returned to the Conewago Creek, and tried not to chide myself too much for missing the opportunity to visit the battle site.

I was by myself, fishing a hole that Ken had shown me the previous day, and that I knew had a number of trout within. After much casting with no success, I decided to try a new fly, a size 16 Zug Bug with a small sinker on the line. I sent the fly into the stream about twenty feet above the fishing hole, and literally walked down the bank, the rod in my hand, to let the fly drift naturally towards the fish. Within an hour, I caught and released four rainbows and browns in the vicinity of twelve to fourteen inches.

Pictures: The Conewago Creek

Then on one cast, a trout took my nymph, and I felt something that I had never experienced before, the weight of a truly large fish. I had no power over this trout. My rod was bent in a deep arc, and each time I tried to reel him in, I felt the weight of the fish resisting me. It was like trying to move a big heavy rock in the water. Then the trout leapt into the air. He had to be at least eighteen inches, and came back down into the water with a splash, as if to taunt me and show me his greatness. I was ecstatic, having never hooked a trout this large in my life.

For a few minutes, I tried to reel him in, but eventually my inexperience with such a large fish got the best of me, and he broke the line. When the trout escaped, I jumped in the air in my excitement like a little kid, mimicking the trout who had leaped out of the water not a minute before. I felt like a ten year-old as I re-lived the thrill of catching my first fish. I did not care that I could not land the trout. Simply feeling that weight on the line, and knowing that I had hooked this mighty fish was enough.

On the drive home, I realized that perhaps I had passed the fly fishing class that Professor Lokensgard offered at Gettysburg College. I had caught a few fish, and even hooked a great monster. I had shared my passion for fly fishing and Judaism with a group of college students and built new connections with them. But most of all, I had found something very rare, a person who loved religion and fly fishing, and I had made a new friend.

To visit John Bechtel’s fly fishing guide service for the Letort River and other Central PA streams: CLICK HERE

To listen to an excerpt of my presentation at Gettysburg College: CLICK on the blue play button:

The Fly Fishing Rabbi meets The Fly Fishing Professor

A Fly Fishing Pilgrimage

2008-04-21T14:20:00.012-04:00

Roscoe, New York calls itself “Trout Town USA.” Probably the most famous fly fishing river east of the Mississippi, the Beaverkill begins at Junction Pool, where hundreds of fishermen and women test their skills each spring. Roscoe is the center of fly fishing in the Catskills. For over 100 years, the Beaverkill, Willowemec, Delaware and other streams have attracted the preeminent fly fishers in America including Theodore Gordon, Art Flick and Joan and Lee Wulff. The Catskills soon became known as the birthplace of American Fly Fishing.

A journey to the Beaverkill River is like a pilgrimage, a long journey to a sacred place. Muslims make a pilgrimage to Mecca once in their lives. Christians travel to Rome to visit the Vatican and hear the Pope speak. In ancient times, Jews used to travel to the Temple in Jerusalem three times a year to offer sacrifices to God. Today, a trip to Israel remains a sacred pilgrimage for Jews, a way to connect to the past and the Bible. While I would not put Roscoe New York on the same spiritual plane as the Temple in Jerusalem, for many fly fishers the Beaverkill River is a sacred site, a place like no other in America to cast a fly.

In October 2001, I journeyed to Roscoe on a trip that felt much like a pilgrimage. It was only a few weeks after 9/11. From my apartment in Brooklyn, I could still smell the smoke coming from the remains of the twin towers. New York City felt like a war zone, and I needed some time away, a safe place in a world that felt upside-down.

After a two hour car trip, I arrived at Roscoe New York, population 597. Every pilgrimage has rituals, and a trip to Roscoe is no different. I ate at the Roscoe Diner, I visited Catskill Flies to get some gear and good advice, and I checked into the Reynolds House, a nice B&B right in town. Finally, it was time to go fishing.

As I had been looking forward to fly fishing the Beaverkill for a long time, I could not help imagining what would happen when I finally cast my line. I dreamt of a beautiful river, filled with large rising trout. On a perfect fall day, I would be the only person around for miles, and I would catch and release fish after fish for hours. Needless to say, my dreams for this fly fishing pilgrimage were a bit unrealistic. Junction Pool was too crowded, the Beaverkill River was low that year, and I got skunked for two days, not catching a single trout. I realized that while the pools of the Beaverkill might be famous, for me that day they were also fishless.

Picture: The Beaverkill River

On my second day of fly fishing, when the streams would not yield a bite, I decided to abandon my fly rod and go for a hike. I climbed to the top of one of the hills which was very steep, and I looked around. Trees covered the Catskill Mountains in all directions, the leaves were turning brilliant yellows and oranges. I had never witnessed such a beautiful fall scene in my life. As I stood on top of the hill, I realized that I had completed my pilgrimage. The sacred site that I was looking for was not Junction Pool or the Beaverkill River. It was on top of that mountain, where I felt in awe of the beauty of nature.

Picture: On top of a Catskill Mountain in October 2001

Many religions consider high places to be holy. Mt Fuji in Japan is worshipped. The Temple in Jerusalem was located on a hill, the highest point in the ancient city. In the modern Jewish synagogue, the Rabbi and Cantor sit on a bimah¸ a raised platform, above the pews of the congregation. When we arrive at a place that is high above ground, we feel less caught up in the everyday, and we can see a new perspective on our lives.

Being on top of that hill in the Catskills reminded me of another pilgrimage that I once took, to Mt. Sinai in Egypt. In the Bible, Moses went up Mt. Sinai to speak to God and to receive the 10 Commandments. Moses was up there for 40 days and 40 nights, and he needed no food or water.

My wife and I arrived at St. Catherine’s Monastery on the foot of Mt. Sinai in the early evening. The monastery was built in the 6th Century upon the supposed spot of the Burning Bush, where God first spoke to Moses. The fortress-like building contained many ancient artifacts and a skull room, but it was closed for the night.

The fastest way to get up to the top of Mt. Sinai is by camel. We were helped up on the saddles of the tall brown beasts. Soon we were working our way up the mountain on a narrow path. It quickly became dark. For some reason, the camels liked to walk right near the edge of the path, overlooking the depths below, so that the entire trip I had a great view of how far I would fall if the camel tripped. After what felt like an eternity, we arrived at a small shack, where an Egyptian man was smoking comfortably and a few other tourists were huddled in the corners. It was 2 a.m. by now, and we were freezing on top of the mountain, with the winds blowing through the open walls of the shelter without mercy. We crawled under a blanket and half-slept, shivering and praying that the night would soon end.

We awoke to see a sunrise that was beyond description. I forgot all about the trails of the night before. The light illuminated rounded peaks in all directions. Standing on this mountain, I understood how Moses could feel the presence of God in such a place. I wanted the walk down Mt. Sinai to last forever, as I stared at the mountains and the occasional goat searching for something to eat.

Pictures: Mt. Sinai at sunrise. Look for the mountain goat in the third picture!

A pilgrimage is about taking the time to escape the everyday, about traveling to a place that is far from the ordinary. This type of journey can be a search for safety in a post 9/11 world, a return to nature and simplicity when human society seems so distorted and difficult. A pilgrimage is also about connecting to the past. I may not have caught a fish in Roscoe, but knowing that I was fishing the same rivers as Theodore Gordon and other greats made me feel grounded and authentic.

Perhaps the ultimate goal of a pilgrimage is enlightenment, the gaining of wisdom and knowledge like Moses on Mt. Sinai. Standing on top of a hill in Roscoe in the fall and shivering in that shack on Mt. Sinai, I did not directly hear the voice of God. But the beauty of my surroundings helped me to look beyond my own life, and to contemplate the Divine, and that made these two journeys well worthwhile.

Fish that Can Walk and Evolution

2008-04-07T12:52:00.016-04:00

Apparently, 375 million years ago, fish could walk. According to the San Francisco Chronicle, scientists found a fossil of a creature that had the scales, gills and fins of a fish, but also had ribs and the primitive limbs of land creatures. One of the paleontologists, Neil Shubin, said: “What we found was clearly a fish, but it had a long flat head with its eyes on top like a crocodile, a shoulder, an elbow and a wrist.” This fish spent most of its time swimming, but also climbed out of the water and hunted on land.

Picture: Fossilized remains of Tiktaalik rosae, the fish that could walk, and a model of the fish. From the San Francisco Chronicle and the University of Chicago.

The discovery of the fish that could walk is being hailed as an important evolutionary link between fish and land creatures. The walking fish was an early ancestor of reptiles, dinosaurs and mammals, including human beings. Science can now prove that we all descended from fish. Perhaps that is why I enjoy spending so much time fly fishing; the trout are my very very distant cousins.

One scientist, Jenny Clark of Cambridge University, offered an interesting response to this great discovery: “This is another gap closed that a deity no longer needs to fill.” Clark describes the conflict that can exist between religion and science, between those who believe in evolution and those who read the Bible as the literal word of God. For some people, God played no role in the development of life on earth. Over millions of years, the laws of nature and evolution led single-celled organisms to develop into fish, land creatures and eventually human beings. In this view, nature does not require any divine intervention, and God need not fill any gaps in our understanding of the origins of life.

On the opposite side of the spectrum, creationists believe that God created the entire universe exactly as described in the Bible. Genesis chapter one describes how God made everything in the world by the power of speech: “God said: ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light.” In Genesis, there is no mention of any ideas that suggest evolution. There are no walking fish in the Bible either, although there are sea monsters. On day five, God created the fish and the taninim, the great sea monsters, which were perhaps whales.

The fish that could walk is not the only fish that symbolizes the conflict between evolution and religion. Some people put an ichthys, or “Jesus fish” on the bumper of their cars as a sign of their belief in Christianity. In response, others have chosen to modify the “car fish” to represent their support of evolution. Some versions add the word “evolution” or “Darwin” within the symbol. There are even "Darwin fish" with feet, which we now know is scientifically accurate thanks to the fish that could walk. I respect the “Jesus fish” symbol and do not agree with making fun of the beliefs of others. However, the many versions of the “car fish” illustrate the continued debate between science and religion.

Pictures: "Jesus fish" and the "Darwin" fish with feet. Courtsey of wikipedia.org.

How does one navigate the conflict between evolution and creationism? I believe in evolution and that humans came about by the rules of natural selection and survival of the fittest. I also believe that the Bible has lessons to teach us about our origins. Both perspectives, the scientific and the religious, have value; they simply address different questions. Science answers the “how” and “where” questions quite well: Where did humans come from? We evolved from earlier life forms. How are we related to other animals? We all come from the same source, the single celled organisms of millions of years ago.

However, science falls short in responding to the “why questions”: Why are we here? Why are we conscience beings, with the self-awareness that separates us from animals? Genesis provides us with religious answers. The Bible says that there is a God who cares about this world and created it as an act of kindness and love. After six days of creation, God surveyed the world and found it to be very good. Despite all of the evil and struggle that we must all face, our world is an inherently good place, where we can find blessing and hope.

In light of evolution and science, perhaps we cannot read the Bible literally. The world was not created in only six days, and God did not make all creatures from nothing, rather they evolved. However, there are ways of reconciling evolution and Genesis. God can still play a role in the creation of the world. Science tells us that nature follows rules, like gravity, so that a ball will always fall back to the earth when you drop it. But where did gravity come from? How is it that nature is so perfectly designed that our earth can exist, and that we could evolve from a walking fish? How were the rules created in the first place that allowed our world to function?

One metaphor for the origins of the universe compares God to a clock-maker. God would up the clock, and then let it go. Since then, our universe, like a clock, has run on its own, according to the laws of nature. Perhaps God’s role was in creating the rules and the system in the first place, whereby an amazing earth and human beings could evolve and question their own origins.

Jenny Clark was right when she said that the discovery of a walking fish was another gap closed that a diety no longer needs to fill. However, there will always be some questions that science cannot answer, some mysteries that cannot be solved. Evolution will probably draw a straight line from the formation of the earth 4.5 billion years ago to us humans. However, evolution will not be able to explain why the world is so perfectly designed or why we feel such awe in the beauty of nature. The next time I go fly fishing, I may remember that the trout and I have a common ancestor, a walking fish. But as I stand in the stream, and cast my line surrounded by the peace of nature, I will probably be more apt to recall what God said about our world: it was very good.

To read the article from the San Francisco Chronicle about the walking fish: CLICK HERE

DNA, Genetic Testing and Who is a Jew?

2008-03-31T12:51:00.005-04:00

Did you ever wonder if you are related to Abraham, the first Jew? The science of DNA and genetic testing may soon provide an answer. A recent article in Reform Judaism magazine discusses Jon Entine's new book: Abraham’s Children: Race, Identity, and the DNA of the Chosen People. Entine assembled the genetic research and he shows that the majority of Jews throughout the world share common DNA. We can now trace our genes back to the Middle East 4,000 years ago to Abraham, the first Jew. It is an amazing and striking discovery. Science now offers evidence that the Jews spread throughout the world are all one people.

Tracing the DNA of all Jews is one way of answering the question: Who is a Jew? Some say that Judaism is determined by birth and the religious status of your mother, as in traditional Jewish law. Others claim that Judaism is more of a choice, an affiliation that we make in a free society that allows us to determine our own religious identity. Today, genetics adds another perspective to the debate.

The finding that all Jews share common genes has great potential to create unity among Jews throughout the world. In his book, Entine demonstrates the authenticity of the Bene Israel, a group of brown skinned people in India. Their DNA proves that they are Jews, sharing the same genes with their pale Ashkenazi cousins. Likewise, the Black Lemba Tribe of Africa has claimed for over a century that they are Jewish. They were tested and proven to come from the Middle East just like the rest of us.

The Falashas, the black Jews of Ethopia, are another interesting case. They claim ancestry to King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba. In the 1980s, many Ethiopian Jews moved to Israel. However, DNA testing suggests that they do not share the same genes as the rest of world Jewry. This is in line with scholarly research which states that in the 5th or 6th century, a large number of Ethopians, including royalty, converted to Judaism. They have remained faithful Jews for over 1,500 years.

The DNA research reminds us that Jews are not only pale with dark hair and brown eyes. We are related to Jews who are Africans, Indians, Europeons and Middle Easterners. By embracing the new genetic findings, we learn to accept Jews of every color and stripe, which is good for the Jewish people as a whole.

Genetic research into the question of “who is a Jew” also has the potential to create divisiveness and even suffering for the Jewish people. The Nazis used eugenics to seek to create a master Aryan race. An easily accessible DNA test to see if someone is Jewish could be used to single out Jews for persecution.

Whenever you set up standards for Judaism, and define who exactly is a Jew, you create the possibility of excluding others. Whether your criteria is DNA, skin color or belief, all ways of defining Judaism create division within the Jewish people.

Part of my job as a rabbi is to help shape the question of who is a Jew. I do not advocate for including everyone within the Jewish people. For example, Jews for Jesus are not Jews in my eyes. However, as a Reform rabbi, I follow our movement’s example of inclusion. To me, a Jew is a person with either a Jewish mother or father or who converted, and who calls themselves a Jew. It is not enough in our world just to have the genetic background. A person must identify themselves as Jewish to be a part of our people.

I include all converts as full Jews. I welcome gay and lesbian Jews as members of the community, along with Jews of every skin color. And to me, an interfaith couple that chooses to raise Jewish children is a Jewish family.

After learning about the new book, I was excited at the prospect of being able to trace my DNA back to Abraham. If a test was available to see if my genes go back 4,000 years to the Middle East, I probably would take it out of curiosity. I also see the dangers of creating a genetic basis for Judaism, since it can lead to exclusion or even persecution. Our task today is not to focus on Jewish authenticity and who is really Jewish. Rather, we should spend our time helping our fellow Jews to be more Jewish, to pray more, to learn more and to feel closer to one another. As a rabbi, I participate in the debate of who is a Jew. But I see my job as being inclusive and welcoming, in order to strengthen our people for generations to come.

To read more about genetic testing and Jewish identity in the recent issue of Reform Judaism magazine: CLICK HERE

The Goldfish Toss and Aquariums

2008-03-24T17:37:00.009-04:00

The first time I can remember wanting a fish for a pet was when I was seven or eight years old. It was during the Purim Carnival at my Temple. The holiday of Purim celebrates how Mordechai and Esther saved the Jewish people from the evil Haman. Each year the Temple runs a Purim carnival for kids, and the game that I wanted to play again and again was the “Goldfish Toss.” There were maybe fifty small jars, all filled with water, a few of which had small goldfish within. You would stand back, toss the ping-pong ball, and if it landed in the jars with one of the goldfish, you went home with a new friend in a plastic bag.

More than once I won the Goldfish Toss, brought home the goldfish and set up the requisite bowl. However, my prized new pet never lasted more than a few weeks. That is what happens when you never clean out the goldfish bowl.

Picture: A Hama Nishiki goldfish courtsey of wikipedia.org

After a few years, my parents bought a 10 gallon aquarium, advertised as containing everything you would need to create a beautiful new home for tropical fish. Within the glass aquarium I found a Penn-Plax filter, a heater, some green fluorescent gravel, a few plastic plants and a little treasure chest whose lid would open and close as a stream of bubbles flowed out of it. I diligently followed all of the directions, de-chlorinating the water, preparing the filter, and setting up the plastic plants. My first aquarium was a complete disaster. Not a single fish that I bought lived for very long. The neon tetras, mollies and the delicate angel fish had a brief stay in my tank.

So it went for a few more tries. I would follow the directions, set up the aquarium, and my fish would swim happily for a few months. Then the inevitable mistakes and lack of cleaning would lead to the demise of those beautiful black mollies or tiger barbs. One time when I was about ten or eleven and all of my fish died, I decided that maybe the problem was that the aquarium was not clean enough. So I washed it out with bleach! Needless to say, the next set of fish was doomed from the start. Looking back, I wish that my parents would have seen what I was doing, and prevented the unnecessary carnage.

It was not until I was eighteen that I finally figured out how to keep the fish alive. It happened by sheer accident. I went through the usual routine. The aquarium looked great for a few months, and then all the fish died. I was about to clean it out and give up, when I saw something amazing. There were six very tiny baby fish that looked like tadpoles. A female blue moon platy fish had given birth. Soon those babies had more babies, and the tank was full of twenty or so blue moons, all healthy. The aquarium lasted about four years, with many generations of fish, and I took great pride in it.

As I look back on it, I am not sure why I kept trying to set up a new aquarium after each failure. It did cross my mind that it was not nice to keep killing fish. However, I loved the beauty of the tank. At night, with all of the lights off in my room except for the aquarium fluorescent bulb, I would watch the fish floating contently in the water. From a half-inch neon tetra to a large rainbow trout in a stream, fish are very serene animals. If I had a rough day at school, I could sit and watch the aquarium, and feel a sense of peace.

The Hebrew word for peace is shalom. On the Sabbath, the day of rest, we say to each other “Shabbat Shalom,” which means “May you have a day of peace.” Searching for serenity in our busy and complex world is not easy. Between the phone ringing, the constant arrival of text messages, the internet and the television, it is easy to feel distracted and stressed even when at home. A serene aquarium reminds us to take a moment to breathe and to appreciate the joys of family life.

Owning an aquarium also taught me what it means to care for another living creature. One of my Bar Mitzvah students wrote a speech about a pet lizard that his parents bought him. He said that he always forgot about the animal, and fed it very infrequently. He was not surprised that the lizard did not last very long. It was a good lesson for the young man to learn about responsibility, but I wish that the animal did not have to suffer for him to come to this understanding.

Keeping an aquarium or owning a dog or a cat is a serious undertaking. Sometimes we forget that the animal is totally dependent on us to stay alive. By keeping pets, parents have the opportunity to teach their children caring and compassion, and they also have the responsibility to make sure that the animal is not harmed.

Judaism is concerned with the welfare of animals. Tzaar baalei chaim is the Jewish value of avoiding the unnecessary pain of other living creatures. The book of Deuteronomy says that if you see your neighbor’s ox or sheep gone astray, you must return it to him, so that the animal does not suffer. Likewise, if you find a mother bird in a nest, you may not take the mother along with the eggs. Rather you must send the bird away before taking the eggs, to lessen her suffering.

It has been about five years since I last had an aquarium. Taking care of the fish was just too much work, and I always felt guilty when my mistakes caused the death of another living creature. But I do miss watching those tiny colorful tetras swimming serenely in the tank. Today I have a bird, a small green nanday conure, who is very cute, but not very quiet or peaceful. She loves to squawk and ring her bell. When I crave shalom and serenity, I go fly fishing, where I sometimes have the privilege of holding a beautiful brown trout in my hands, and then releasing him back into the river where he belongs.

To hear this article as a Podcast, click the blue play button:

The Goldfish Toss and Aquariums

To subscribe to The Fly Fishing Rabbi Podcast on iTunes: Click Here

The Japanese Barber who Likes to Fish

2008-03-10T12:16:00.012-04:00

Once a month, I walk to my barber shop in Queens, to have my haircut by Jun, my Japanese barber who loves to talk about fishing. Jun is about 40 years old, razor thin, with long straight black hair. He came over from Japan four years ago, and lives in a basement apartment rental in Flushing, Queens, a neighborhood populated by Asian immigrants. Jun’s English is halting, his accent is strong, and sometimes he has trouble finding the words to express himself. But once a month while Jun cuts my hair, we talk about life in New York, philosophy, religion and fishing.

As Queens residents, we commiserate about the strange and unusual difficulties of living in New York. He told me about his roommate who got drunk and kicked down a bedroom door. The next day, Jun put an ad in Craig’s List for a new roommate. Jun told me about the flooding in his apartment caused by heavy rains, and how he lost all of his books, and most of his possessions, except for a water-proof vacuum cleaner. Not immune from the trials of living in New York, I told Jun about the New Year’s Eve fire in my apartment building, in which no one was harmed. A woman on the sixth floor fell asleep with a candle burning, and the resulting fire destroyed five or six apartments, while my one-bedroom palace was spared.

Often our conversations turn to religion and philosophy. When I told Jun that I am a rabbi, and explained to him what that meant, he started asking me questions. Jun asked why bad things happen to innocent people. He wanted to know why we are here and what our purpose is on the earth.

I did my best to explain to Jun a few Jewish answers. I told Jun that our world is mysterious, and sometimes we cannot comprehend why tragedy befalls some people and not others. I also shared with Jun that our world is broken in many ways. Judaism teaches that one of our purposes as humans is to repair the world by seeking to improve the lives of others. Jun explained to me that Japan is a secular society, and that religion does not play a role in his life. However, Jun was struggling as we all do, to understand what it means to be human. He was asking questions about his life and purpose that Judaism, and all religions, seek to answer.

As we got to know each other, I discovered that Jun and I both had a love of fishing. Every Monday on his day off, Jun heads to College Point in Queens, and fishes off the docks. Jun casts his bait into Long Island Sound, fishing for fluke and flounder. He often makes sushi out of his catch, and enjoys a meal of fresh fish.

When Jun told me that he eats the fish from College Point, and even worse, that he eats it raw, I almost fell out of the barber shop chair. College Point is an industrial area that remains active, and that part of Long Island Sound is very polluted. When I told him that the fish he eats could be harmful to his health, this is what he said: “I do not need to live a long life.” I was taken aback and silenced by his remark, which seemed so foreign to me.

Judaism teaches that life is precious, and that each day on earth is a great blessing. In the book of Deuteronomy, God says to the Israelites: “I have put before you life and death, blessing and curse, choose life.” Protecting our lives and health is a Jewish value. We believe in eating well, caring for our bodies, and avoiding unnecessary risks that could harm us, like eating fish filled with mercury and other pollutants.

When Jun said that he did not need to live a long life, I could have responded to him. I could have tried to convince him to stop eating those fish, or appreciate his life a bit more. But I just sat there in the chair in silence. Our conversation drifted to other topics. I left the barber shop feeling a bit saddened that day, because I did not want any harm to come to him.

Jun goes fishing every Monday, which is my day off from work too. Sometimes on Mondays while I am writing or shopping at the grocery store, I think about Jun sitting on a pier at College Point for hours. I hope that he is enjoying the solitude and harmony that I feel when fly fishing on a stream. Jun and I are both intrigued by the mysteries of life and fishing. I only hope that his life’s journey is providing him with moments of happiness, because he is my friend.

To hear this article as a Podcast, click the blue play button:
The Japanese Barber who Likes to Fish

To subscribe to The Fly Fishing Rabbi Podcast on iTunes: Click Here

In Memory of Cantor David Tauber

2008-02-27T10:50:00.010-05:00

A terrible tragedy occurred on Monday when Cantor David Tauber was killed by a flash flood near the Dead Sea in Israel. Cantor Tauber and his wife were hiking in the desert, when the waters rose without warning. She managed to survive and he was swept away by the flood.

For the past two years, Cantor Tauber served as Cantor of North Shore Synagogue, along with myself and our senior Rabbi David Whiman. The Cantor leads the musical life of the synagogue, singing in services, teaching children and officiating at life cycle events. David had a beautiful baritone voice, but it was his shining personality that we will all remember.

Yesterday, we told our religious school children about his passing and we asked them to describe what they remember about Cantor Tauber. They talked about his energy, enthusiasm, how he always smiled and played his guitar with passion. David loved music, but he also loved sharing it with others and helping them find their voices in prayer.

Cantor David Tauber was 34 years old. His loss is a great tragedy, and as a rabbi of about the same age, it is hard for me to imagine the pain that his wife and family are feeling. One of my congregants aptly said that it is hard to make sense of such a terrible accident.

We will be holding funeral services for Cantor Tauber at our Temple, and we will say goodbye to a good man, who loved music, loved Judaism, and cared more about others than himself. I hope and pray that over time his wife and family find peace and comfort. Zecher Latzadik livrachah, the memory of the righteous is always a blessing. Amen.

Below please find a reprint of an article from Newsday newspaper on Long Island that describes the memory and great work of Cantor David Tauber.

Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer

North Shore Synagogue cantor drowns in Israel
BY LAURA RIVERA, February 26, 2008

An avid hiker, David Tauber was exploring the gorges and streams of a lush reserve near the Dead Sea when rushing waters barreled down the trail.While he was able to help his wife get to high ground, Tauber, an acclaimed cantor at a Syosset synagogue, was apparently overwhelmed by the flash flood and drowned on Monday, the congregation's rabbi said Tuesday."They both loved the land of Israel," said Rabbi David Whiman, senior rabbi of the North Shore Synagogue. "It's just a great tragedy."Tauber's wife, Heather, was later rescued by helicopters, according to news reports.

The Taubers, of Brooklyn, had gone to Israel to attend the annual mission of the Conference of Presidents of Major American Jewish Organizations, for which Heather works, the rabbi said. After the conference, they traveled for pleasure to Ein Gedi nature reserve, a 6,250-acre oasis between the Judean desert and the Dead Sea, about 50 miles southeast of Jerusalem.

The congregation was reeling Tuesday from the loss of a cantor who had won over its members during two years of service, Whiman said."He had a very boyish charm about him. When he would conduct the service, it was in an endearing, engaging, and absolutely invitational kind of way," he said. "There was such a conspicuous delight in the way he would sing and encourage the people to join in liturgy and music."

A recipient of the H.L. Miller Cantorial Fellowship, Tauber, who was in his mid 30s, was installed as a resident cantor at the reform congregation in a ceremony last November, Whiman said.Tauber replaced a cantor who died of cancer after serving eight or nine years, said Wayne Landau, the synagogue's president."It was a difficult position," he said. "It would take a special human being to replace . David was able to do that and win over the hearts and minds of the congregants."

Under Tauber's stewardship, the synagogue's adult and junior choirs expanded and improved as he coached them at weekly rehearsals, and prepared them for a monthly service with song, he said. He also coached bar and bat mitzvah students in chanting from the scriptures.A graduate of the Jewish Theological Seminary in Manhattan, Tauber also trained as an opera singer, performing in the Amato Opera in Manhattan and the Tri-Cities Opera in Binghamton, according to a biography on the North Shore Synagogue's Web site.

Links to newspaper articles about Cantor David Tauber:

Newsday Article: Click Here

Jerusalem Post Article: Click Here

Fly Fishing in Missouri

2008-02-20T15:29:00.013-05:00

My home state of Missouri contains four trout parks that are stocked: Bennett Spring State Park, Montauk State Park, Roaring River State Park and Maramec Spring Park. I caught my first trout at Montauk, a small rainbow. Bennett Spring State Park is filled with trout and it is a wonderful place to fish. Since I love fly fishing in Missouri, I had high expectations for a recent trip to Maramec Spring Park. However, it turned out to be a very frustrating fly fishing experience.

When I arrived at the Maramec River, it was packed with people. There were probably two hundred fishermen and women on the mile-long stream. It was hard to find a place to cast without hitting another person. The Maramec River is open to fly and bait fishing, so naturally the trout preferred real food over my dry flies. Rainbows and browns were everywhere, some quite large, but three hours of fly fishing yielded not a single bite. It was excruciating to see the trout not a few feet before me in the clear cold water and watch them ignore all of my efforts with obvious disdain. By the end of the morning I was ready to go home.

My time on the Maramec lacked three things that are necessary for a good fly fishing trip: solitude, scenery and striking trout. An amazing fly fishing outing can occur when you are alone on a river in beautiful surroundings. You catch trout after trout, releasing all but the largest ones back to their homes.

Even if a fly fishing trip does not include striking fish, we can enjoy the scenery and the solitude. In the Catskills of New York, I fished the famous Beaverkill River in the fall. All around, the leaves were turning brilliant yellows and oranges on the hills. On that trip, I did not catch a single trout, but the time I spent alone on the river was deeply nourishing.

Sometimes, catching fish can make up for a lack of solitude. The Connetquot River is located in a nature preserve on Long Island, New York. Surrounded on all sides by strip malls and highways, the park is an oasis in suburbia. When I fish the river, planes fly overhead and my fellow fly fishers are casting only a few yards upstream. However, the river is beautiful, and the fish are abundant. When I catch a dozen trout and release them, I tend to forget about the planes and the other anglers.

The Maramec River lacked scenery, solitude and striking trout, and left me feeling empty. I was going to head home, when I decided to explore the park a bit more. I walked upstream, past all of the fishermen, and found myself at the hatchery. In this part of the river, fishing is not allowed, and I watched massive trout slowly moving their fins in the cold water.

Pictures: The Maramec Spring, A big rainbow swimming near the spring

As I followed the wooden path, it led to Maramec Spring, the source of the river. Springs are miraculous. Cold pure water flows out of the ground, an average of 96 million of gallons at Maramec. Looking down into an underwater cave, the source of the spring, I saw the rich blue color of the perfectly pure water. I stood there silently for a few moments, reflecting on the miracle of this work of nature. I offered a blessing, thanking God for our earth that provides us with such abundance. There were a few hundred of fishermen on the river not a quarter mile away, but I was the only one at the spring.

Maramec Spring park also has a museum, which chronicles the history of the site. Native Americans first found the spring and settled there. In 1825 a band of Shawnee brought Thomas James, a banker and merchant, to the spring where he discovered iron ore deposits. James soon opened an iron mine and foundry, which functioned until 1876.

I walked to the abandoned mine, now filled with dirt, and held the red earth and pieces of iron ore in my hands. A scenic drive followed “Stringtown Road,” where a "string" of cabins lined the dirt path in the 19th Century. The small wooden homes, one of which still stood, attested to the hard rural life of the mine workers. The iron ore was mined and then transported to the foundry, which was located on the river near the spring. Using the river current as its source of power, the foundry produced a profitable amount of iron for 50 years.

Pictures: The Maramec Iron Mine

As I drove home from the Maramec, I reflected on my trip. The fly fishing was frustrating, but the day was still rewarding. I learned about the evolution of a river. From its Native American caretakers, to its use by settlers, to a haven for trout, the Mamarec has seen many lives. I thought about how the cold water washed away all traces of the iron mine, leaving a pristine river where trout could flourish. I felt grateful that such a place could still exist, where pure water flows in abundance from the earth. Most of all, I hoped that we humans would have the wisdom to be caretakers for this river like the Native Americans before us, so that even if it is filled with trout and surrounded by fisherman, it can be a place of natural beauty forever.

To learn more about the Trout Parks of Missouri, CLICK HERE

Temporary Amnesia & Memories

2008-02-11T10:59:00.001-05:00

A friend of mine had a case of temporary amnesia. She woke up one morning in a sort of trance, asking the same questions over and over again: “What day is it?” “Where am I?” Her mind would not let her find any answers. My friend’s husband took her to the hospital, and about six hours after the episode began, she came to her senses. She remembered nothing of the time that she had lost. Thank God, the temporary amnesia happened at home where her husband could take care of her.

After a CT scan came up negative, the doctors said that my friend had a case of temporary amnesia. There was nothing wrong with her mind, but it simply was not working correctly. Apparently, temporary amnesia only happens one in a life-time, and does not lead to any other problems. It is like pressing the reset button on the computer; the mind of the person simply takes a short break, and then starts over. The day after the episode, my friend sounded normal, and she has completely recovered. She was quite unnerved by losing those six hours of her life and by the whole experience.

There are times when the idea of temporary amnesia seems like a good thing. It might be nice to be rid of some of the bad memories from the past. In the movie, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Jim Carrey’s character wants to be rid of painful memories of a failed relationship. He pays for a procedure to have these memories erased, wiped clean from his mind. Carrey later regrets this decision, and spends the whole movie trying to get those memories back. In the same way, my friend with the temporary amnesia was deeply disturbed at losing those six hours of her life.

Judaism teaches that memories of the past, both good and bad have value. Our task is not to forget the past, but instead to learn from it. When the Torah says that we are to care for the orphan, widow and stranger, the reason given is that we were slaves in Egypt. Remembering the pain of slavery helps us to see the necessity of reaching out to those who are suffering.

Remembering the past is also essential in order to change our behavior in the future. On the High Holidays of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur we do a lot of remembering. We recall loved ones who passed away during the service of yizkor, which means God will remember. We blow the shofar during the service of zichronot, which means rememberance.

The work of the High Holidays involves recalling what we did wrong. We sit in services all day on Yom Kippur, not eating, so that we can remember our mistakes of the past year. Recalling our errors provides us with the opportunity change direction and to become a better person.

At McGill University, there is a scientist, Karim Nader, who is seeking to manipulate memories in order to help people. According an article on the McGill website, survivors of a traumatic experience relive the painful memories over and over again in their minds. “These flashbacks can be so debilitating that many sufferers find it hard to maintain relationships and hold jobs.”

The scientist made a remarkable discovery. If a common blood pressure drug is administered while the person is having a flashback of the event, the memory is actually changed. The person still remembers the traumatic event, but now it is “re-branded with the emotional weight of an ordinary bad memory, one that is not debilitating.” The scientist said that the goal is not to erase a memory but “we just want to turn down the traumatic memory so it’s not so overwhelming and can then be treated with traditional forms of therapy.”

According to the scientist, a memory can be “re-branded,” so as to no longer be an impediment to our lives, but rather something we can overcome. Traumatic memories may require drugs and therapy. Many other bad memories from the past can be re-branded too, by seeking to repair our mistakes, find reconciliation with loved ones, and not repeat the same harmful acts again.

Embarrassing, bad and even painful memories are an inevitable part of life. As my friend who lived through a bout of temporary amnesia knows, our task is not to erase or ignore the past. Instead we should look to “re-brand” our difficult memories and learn from them.

Crohn’s Disease & Empathy

2008-02-04T11:09:00.000-05:00

In his Bar Mitzvah speech, one young man wrote about a mitzvah project that he organized to benefit the Crohn’s and Colitis Foundation of American. Crohn’s and Colitis are chronic digestive diseases that cause pain and suffering for tens of thousands of Americans. Currently there is no cure for either.

As the Bar Mitzvah boy explained, he has a friend with Crohn’s, so he organized a Bowl-A-Thon and solicited donations from local merchants, family and friends. When the Bar Mitzvah boy went to one store, the saleswoman said that according to company policy, they could not make a donation. However, she offered to purchase a $250 item with her own money and donate it. The Bar Mitzvah boy was taken aback, and smiled. The saleswoman said: “I have Crohn’s too.” All in all, this young man raised close to $3000 for the foundation, and his parents and his rabbi were very proud of him.

What struck me about this story was the power of empathy. When the Bar Mitzvah boy saw how the disease affected his friend, Crohn’s was no longer an abstract problem for someone else to deal with; now it was personal. When his empathy moved him to go to the store, the young man had an amazing encounter with a sales clerk who also had Crohn’s. Together, their empathy and understanding inspired them to give of themselves.

Empathy is hard to come by in our world. Most of the time, we seek to distance ourselves from other people, rather than putting ourselves in their shoes. We may ignore a homeless person asking for change on the street, because to look at them might force us to acknowledge their humanity. We also act without empathy when we snap at a hard-working waiter who did not bring us our food quickly enough or give grief to yard-workers or bus boys for no good reason.

Empathy is about seeing the humanity in other people. It is about realizing that we are all created betzelem elohim, in the image of God, and that the divine spark dwells in everyone. The Bible teaches that empathy is a fundamentally important trait for everyone. In the book of Exodus, God tells the Israelites to care for the orphan, the widow and the stranger, because “you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” These three categories of people were the most vulnerable in society. However, the reason for assisting the widow and orphan was not only their economic status. Due to the experience of slavery, the Israelites understood the plight of the disenfranchised. Today, we also must take up the Biblical mandate, search for those in need, put ourselves in their shoes, and find ways to help.

As I thought about the experience of the Bar Mitzvah boy and the saleswoman, I asked myself: Was it an accident that she and young man met? How did it happen that he was seeking donations to fight Chron’s and happened to solicit a saleswoman who has the disease? Perhaps this was a small miracle, a moment of Divine intervention in our world, bringing this two people together, one who is sick, and the other who is searching for a cure. Maybe this experience will inspire the young man to work hard as an adult and make a real difference fighting disease or improving the world in some way. Surely, the moment of connection, empathy and compassion that occurred when a salesclerk spent her own money to help a Bar Mitzvah boy fight a difficult disease, this experience will make a difference in both of their lives.

To join the search for a cure, visit the Chron’s and Colitis Foundation website: http://www.ccfa.org/

A Fly Fishing Bumper Sticker

2008-01-28T13:05:00.000-05:00

If I were to put a fly fishing bumper sticker on my Honda, I might go the humorous route and choose: “Give a man a fish, and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you can get rid of him for the weekend,” or “Men and fish are alike. They both get into trouble when they open their mouths.”

Perhaps I might seek to convey an existential truth like: “A bad day fishing beats a good day at work,” or “I fish, therefore I lie.” For my car, however, I would probably choose this favorite saying: “I’d rather be fly fishing.”

We’ve all seen those “I’d rather be” bumper stickers. Some people use their bumpers to express how they would rather be at the beach, the golf course or in some warm sunny climate. Whether at work, or fighting traffic, or freezing through a cold winter, we all daydream of being somewhere else, like the beach or the trout stream. It’s fun to dream and put bumper stickers on our cars. But Judaism teaches the value of being present. Instead of thinking about being somewhere else, we should try to focus on where we are. That way, we do not miss something important or even amazing happening right before our eyes.

In Hebrew, the word for being present is henaynee, which means “Here I am.” When God first spoke to Abraham and Moses, they replied: “henaynee,” Here I am. They were ready to listen to God and had nothing else on their minds. Being present in the moment is what allowed Moses to find God in the first place. Moses was sheparding his flock on the mountain, when he saw a bush burning that was not consumed. Now how can you tell if a bush burns without being destroyed? Only if you spend enough time looking at it. Moses was living in the present. Like Moses, if we dedicate a little bit of effort to being present, we may discover some amazing things.

Sometimes this happens to me when I am on a plane. It is easy to think of the hours we spend in the air as dead time, wasted time. We are just trying to get somewhere else. But when I try to be present on the plane, often something nice happens. I look out the window, and see a beautiful set of clouds or the sunset. I hear a young girl telling her mother how excited she is for the upcoming trip. Or at night I see a moonless sky, and the dark ocean in all directions, and I feel the peace of the sleeping earth. Being present allows us to appreciate the small miracles of everyday.

There is another level of being present: Being there for those you care about. In our multi-tasking, cell-phone, internet world, sometimes it is hard to be present for our family and friends even if they are sitting right next to us. I have friends who will go out to dinner, but spend half the time on their cell phones, sending e-mail or checking the score of the game.

I am not immune from the temptations of technology either. Sometimes my wife and I will be in the living room together, but not paying any attention to each other at all! One of us is watching tv, and the other is on the computer. After an hour or two of this, I look up and realize that I missed an opportunity to connect.

Being present is a lesson that Bill Murray learned well in the movie Ground Hog Day. He is forced to relive the same day, over and over again, at least a dozen times. In the movie, Bill Murray lives in a prison of presentness. At first, he enjoys not having any tomorrow, eating whatever he wants and getting into trouble. Then he becomes desperate. Finally, Bill Murray learns the lesson of being present. He uses the day to help others. He connects with a woman and falls in love. He appreciates all the small things that he can do and see in the world. Finally Murray wakes up to a new day and begins his life anew.

We do not have to be stuck in the same day in order to learn the lesson of being present. We need only to stop spending so much time dreaming of being somewhere else or not paying attention to each other. Then we may discover small miracles all around us, and find ways to connect to those we love.

Maybe I will get one of those bumper stickers. Mine will not say “I fish, therefore I lie,” or even “I’d rather be fly fishing,” although both of these statements are certainly true. Instead, I think my bumper sticker would read: “I’d rather be right where I am.”

Finding a Wallet on the Street

2008-01-21T14:27:00.000-05:00

A friend of mine was shopping at a mall about five miles from her house. As she was walking through a store, she saw something colorful on the ground. My friend went to pick it up, and realized that she had found a child’s wallet. It was one of those brightly colored wallets, with yellows and oranges, and a Velcro seam, that 11 and 12 year olds like to carry around. My friend opened the wallet to discover 84 dollars and a middle school ID card. Now, I could write a whole other blog post about how a middle school student has 84 dollars in his wallet, but that is for another time.

My friend took the ID and called the middle school. When she got the address of the child, she was surprised to discover that he lived in her subdivision, less than half a mile away. My friend took the wallet with all 84 dollars and returned it. The boy and his mother were thrilled. And my friend had made a new connection with a previously unknown neighbor.

My friend’s experience of finding lost money on the street is practically universal. We have no moral problem with picking up change that we see on the ground. Were we to find a 20 or even a 100 dollar bill on the street, there is no ethical reason not to keep it, since there is no way to find its owner. However, when my friend found the wallet, and saw the ID, she knew that she had to take action.

My friend did not let the 84 dollars tempt her, and she did the right thing. But sometimes money can cloud our judgment when it comes to doing the right thing. When does the hope of financial reward interfere with the high ethical standards that Judaism demands?

At the worst of times for a family, when a loved one passes away, the possibility of money corrupting good deeds can appear. We all know the phrase: “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” One of my lawyer friends likes to say: “Where there’s a will, there’s a relative.” When the desire for money finds its way into the mourning process, sometimes the results can be difficult to witness.

At one funeral, a woman passed away in her 70s. She had a companion, a man that she did not marry. She left all of her belongings, including a very nice apartment, to her relatives. The companion and his children were very unhappy that they would receive nothing, and even during the preparation for the funeral, they were already contesting the will. At her funeral, the companion gave a euology that was hard to hear, because the family was unsure if he was truly expressing his love of the woman, or trying to make a better case for receiving part of her wealth.

Perhaps the lesson here is the power of money to blur even the best intentions and deeds of kindness. Returning 84 dollars found in a wallet is not too hard, although it is human nature to want to keep even that amount of money. But what about when a loved one passes away and you are left out of the will?

Judaism teaches us that money should never cloud our judgment, especially when it comes to caring for our loved ones. When Abraham lost his wife Sarah, he went to purchase a burial place for her at Machpelah, in Israel. Abraham enters into negotiations and ends up purchasing a small plot of land to bury his wife. It cost him 400 shekels, which was a huge sum to pay. A similar plot of land was sold elsewhere for 17 shekels. Abraham overpaid by 383 shekels! But Abraham does not argue and remains gracious, paying the full sum.

I am not advocating for getting ripped off. But I am saying that when it comes to the most important tasks in life, like caring for elderly relatives and burying our loved ones, money should not prevent us from doing the right thing. One Jewish prayer lists the commandments, mitzvot, that Jews perform with no expectation of reward. Some of these good deeds include: Honoring parents, welcoming the stranger, visiting the sick, rejoicing with bride and groom, and burying the deceased.

Judaism teaches us that our task is to treat everyone in our family, and everyone in our lives the same, whether they are of great means or no means. For when we fight for what we think is ours, we may end up with nothing but hurt feelings and strained relationships. But when we do the right thing, like returning a wallet we find on the street, we feel good about ourselves, and we might even make a new friend.

A Fire on New Year’s Eve

2008-01-13T09:38:00.000-05:00

This past New Year’s Eve was shaping up to be nice and quiet. My wife and I had a few friends over and then the two of us watched the ball drop on tv. At about 12:15 am, I heard the sound of voices and walkie-talkies. I opened the door of my apartment, and looked outside to see firefighters moving up and down the hallway, hoses everywhere, and a stream of water flowing down the stairs. There was a fire on in my apartment building! We quickly gathered a few things and ran out the front door to discover 15 fire trucks and dozens of people, all looking up.

Apparently, a woman on the 4th floor lit a candle and fell asleep. The fire quickly spread to the apartments of her neighbors. From outside, we could see the flames, and we watched the firemen, who did an amazing job handling the situation. Thank God, no one was hurt. Our apartment, being on the first floor, had no damage.

There were real consequences from this fire. Three apartments were destroyed, and six apartments in total were ordered to be vacated due to fire or water damage. A few days after the fire, an anonymous letter was taped to a wall in our building. A couple wrote that they had just adopted a four and a half month old kitten. The pictures they included were adorable. The letter described how the kitten’s young lungs could not handle the smoke, and she died. The letter had a bitter tone to it, which I fully understood, describing the fire as “completely avoidable” and “deeply harmful.”

Surely one lesson I learned from the New Year’s Eve fire is to be careful with candles. If you light candles on Shabbat on Friday night, and keep them burning after you go to sleep, be absolutely sure that they are in a safe place, like the kitchen sink. Candles left burning while a person sleeps or leaves home are one of the most common causes of house fires.

Despite the consequences of my New Year’s Eve fire, there was one positive incident that sticks out in my mind. At about 12:30 am, a few minutes after we made it outside, I got a call on my cell phone. I did not recognize the number, but when I picked it up, I heard the familiar voice of a congregant of mine. She lives a block away, and when she saw the fire, she wanted to make sure my wife and I were all right. A few minutes later, she met us in front of our building. We all stared at the flames together. She stood outside with us for an hour and invited us to her apartment. Our congregant’s kindness and hospitality were such a blessing, and I remember feeling comforted.

The power of community is evident in times of need. My friend who lives on the next block is part of the synagogue, and she went the extra mile to help her rabbi feel better at a difficult time. It was greatly appreciated.

A community can provide comfort in difficult times like a fire, and also at times of uncertainty, like when a person moves to a new place. One of the most common reasons that families join a Temple is that they move to a new city and they want to be a part of a community. Relocating to a new place is hard, leaving behind friends and family, beginning a new job and creating a home. A synagogue community, where you feel welcome, can ease this difficult transition.

During the New Year’s Even fire at my apartment building, I realized that bringing together a community, whether it is a synagogue, a school board, a Temple Board, or a family, is about making a personal effort to reach out to others. My congregant called me when she saw my building on fire. As part of a family, we too can look beyond ego or petty disagreements to come together in times of need. At a synagogue, a simple hello in the hallways, or introducing yourself to a new person, can make a person feel no longer like a stranger, but instead a part of the community.

In the book of Jonah, the prophet goes to Nineveh as a complete stranger, and stands in the middle of the huge metropolis. He then speaks this one simple sentence: “Forty days more, and Nineveh shall be destroyed!” The people of Nineveh and their king do not ignore this warning. They unite. They all repent of their sins. And the city is spared.

Jonah saved an entire city with one small sentence. The smallest mistake, like leaving a candle burning and falling asleep can destroy an apartment and harm a community of neighbors. But even the smallest act of kindness, like making a cell phone call to a friend to make sure they are ok, or reaching out to your relatives in a time or need, or welcoming a stranger, these are gestures that repair, strengthen and unite our communities and our families.

Fly Fishing in Argentina

2008-01-05T07:18:00.000-05:00

Argentina is known for amazing fly fishing in the southern region of Patagonia, and the dorado fish, also called the tiger of the river. The golden-colored dorado, located north of Buenos Aires, has an incredible fighting spirit and sharp teeth. When fishing for dorado, one must use a wire leader and watch your fingers carefully! On a recent trip to Argentina, there was no time to go to Patagonia or to chase after the golden dorado, but I discovered that there was a trout stream not far from Alta Gracia, and I was determined to go fly fishing there.

The day of my fly fishing excursion, the forecast was for a high of 85 degrees, one of the great benefits of traveling in the southern hemisphere in December. I met my guide, Lucas Darsie, at 5:30 am. We drove for an hour, through the most perfect, picturesque hills and valleys. With few trees, we saw amazing views in all directions. There was no one around for miles. The sun was coming up above the peaks of the hills. This was the most beautiful place that I have ever fished.
Picture: The San Jose River at sunrise

We got out of the car to begin our hike to the stream. I saw a sign at the gate, and even my rudimentary Spanish skills could decipher that we were to fish the San Jose River, a stream protected by the Cordoba Trucha (Trout) Club. Then I asked Lucas the question that I had been practicing all morning to myself: “Donde estan las truchas?” “Where are the trout?” He smiled and pointed to a small path that would require a half-hour hike.

As we walked, Lucas told me about the Cordoba Trucha Club that he founded with his friend Esteban. They had created the signs to protect the stream. They came out every week to clean up, and they enforce the catch-and-release policy on the water. Like every fly fishing stream from New York to Montana to Argentina, the San Jose River is precious and fragile. When I learned that Lucas worked to protect his stream, I smiled as I was once again reminded of the connection between fly fishing and the environment. As fly fishers we want our children and grandchildren to have that same wonderful experience of seeing a trout rise to a fly and breathing in the perfect cool air on an early morning fishing trip.

As we hiked, there was no one around for miles. The scenery was beyond description. But I soon discovered that we were actually in a minefield. It was not a war zone exactly, but rather a very popular route for cattle. There were huge cow pies everywhere! Argentina is known for its beef, all grass-fed and natural, giving it a superior flavor to our American cows fed on a diet of corn and hormones. The San Jose River wound its way through a large ranch, and we saw a dozen or so cows on our hike.

Lucas and I arrived at the river at about 7 am. There was a good hatch of flies, and I cast my Griffin’s Gnat onto the stream. Within half an hour, I caught four small rainbows, all of which were returned to the river. As the sun came up, and the hatch ended, we began to hike down stream. Lucas was carrying my backpack and water bottle and hopping like a mountain goat from rock to rock. I was trying not to fall too far behind or sprain an ankle.

We stopped at many fishing holes, and Lucas aptly suggested where to cast and which fly to use. With a brown grasshopper at the end of my line, I tempted a "monster" fish, who moved towards the surface, but then retreated back to the deep water. Later on, I hooked another good size trout, and felt the strong tug on the line and the bend of the rod. I almost had the fish in hand, but I pulled a bit too hard and the line snapped.

Video: The Trout that Got Away!

After a few hours of beautiful scenery and casting, Lucas and I began the long trek through the minefield and back to the car. I was exhausted, but felt that sense of calm and peace that comes after an exciting adventure has ended. I will not soon forget the views on the San Jose River or the perfect solitude I experienced knowing that Lucas and I were the only humans nearby.

On my trip to Argentina, I learned that fly fishing is an international language. Lucas and I grew up in different countries, speak different native languages and have different religions. But as we fished for truchas, spoke about our families, and reflected on our passion for preserving rivers and streams, Lucas and I became friends.

Fly Fishing knows no international, religious or ethnic boundaries. Through the miracle of the internet, I keep in touch with fly fishers in Israel, the UK, Finland, New Zealand and all 50 states. When fly fishing brings us a greater appreciation of nature, inspires us to protect our world, and forges connections across continents, then it is no longer just a hobby. It is a valuable passion for us and for our planet.

To contact Lucas Darsie for a guided fly fishing trip to the San Jose River, Patagonia or to pursue the golden dorado, CLICK HERE.

Jewish Superstitions

2007-12-22T15:54:00.001-05:00

A few months ago a good friend and I walked the boardwalk on Venice Beach in Los Angeles. Venice Beach is a lot like the East Village, filled with cafes and used book stores and people living the bohemian life. We even passed a synagogue with bright blue doors located right next to the beach. As we were strolling along, my friend saw a small booth with a woman offering palm readings. He stopped and said that he had visited this woman before, and wanted to have his palm read. My friend is Jewish, but as I discovered, he was also curious about palm readings.

The woman held his hand and began to interpret the lines upon it. She told my friend that he was a kind and sensitive person (which is true!) Since he is single, my friend asked if love would be in his future. She said yes. She told him that he would be married in a few years and that he would have 2 or 3 children. When the reading ended, my friend handed over his $20. We dissected what she had said for a good ten minutes, and I teased him about his future love life and family.

The belief that the lines on your palm can predict your future is superstitious. According to the dictionary, a superstition is an irrational belief that an object or action not logically related to a course of events influences its outcome. But even if the dictionary takes a bit of a negative approach, our society and culture are filled with superstitions. We notice when Friday the 13th comes around. Even world leaders and politicians practice superstitions. While most people believe that black cats are bad luck, Sir Winston Churchill went the opposite way. He was notorious for petting black cats in the belief that it would bring him good fortune.

Do superstitions work? What is their purpose? Can they help us? Let us delve into the Jewish world of the arcane, filled with garlic, an evil eye and covered mirrors.

Many popular Jewish superstitions are connected to the evil eye, ayin ha rah. A friend of mine practices a classic evil eye supersition. When things were going well for him, he says: “kenna hora,” which means “May the evil eye stay away.” Then he spits a few times into his finger tips and waves his hand in the air. Other people put a hamsa up on their wall, which is shaped like a hand and often has a blue and white eye in the middle. The hamsa is meant to protect the home from the evil eye and other misfortunes. Some people even wear a hamsa, or just an eye itself, around their neck.

Picture: A hamsa shaped like a hand.

The superstitions related to the evil eye are often meant to protect us from bad fortune. We say “kenna hora” when things are going well because we are afraid they might take a turn for the worse. Even a cursory glance at the New York Times affirms the troubles that can come to us from nature, from other people and from the world at large. Will wearing a hamsa prevent problems from finding us? I’m not sure. But if certain practices make us feel more secure in the face of life’s uncertainty, then I believe that they have value.

A psychological study indicates that superstitions are “often a means of pacifying an anxious situation for an individual and empowering them with a greater sense of confidence in their ability.” We live in an uncertain world. Sometimes looking at a hamsa on our wall can help us feel less anxious and more empowered. And if these practices can help us to feel safer and improve our sense of well-being, I think they are important.

Along with the evil eye, Judaism has many superstitions related to life cycle events. Ashkenazi Jews, whose ancestors come from Eastern Europe, name a newborn child after a deceased relative. While this is a wonderful way to remember a beloved relative, this custom also has a superstitious side: If a living relative and an infant have the same name, the angel of death might make a mistake, and take the baby instead of the adult. Sephardic Jews, whose ancestors come from Spain, do not share this belief and practice the custom of naming a baby after a living relative.

Another superstition about names occurs when someone is very sick. You are supposed to change the name of the person, so that the angel of death will not be able to find him or her. Apparently the angel of death is not very good with names!

What about the practice of covering the mirrors when the mourners sit shiva at their homes? While this is surely a reminder to avoid vanity when mourning, it also has a superstitious side as well. Some people feared that the soul of a person in the house might be "caught" in the mirror. Then the ghost of the deceased could snatch the soul away.

Why are there so many superstitions related to the life-cycle events, like naming a child after a deceased relative, or covering the mirrors, or the bride circling the groom at a wedding? One answer is that life-cycle events are times of great change in a person’s life. And with change, there is always anxiety. The birth of a child is a blessing, but also a big change. A son can also lose his place as the only child; parents can fear their new responsibilities. And everyone wants the baby to safe and healthy. Rituals like the bris and baby naming, and superstitions, like tying a red ribbon on the crib to keep away the evil eye, each have their place in helping people to navigate the new changes in their lives.

Likewise, the loss of a loved one is a terrible change. And the rituals of mourning, sitting shiva and eating together, along with the customs of covering the mirrors and sitting on low stools, can help a family cope with their loss. In every life cycle event, we can find comfort in certain practices to help us get through it, whether they are rituals that make perfect sense or superstitions that seem illogical but helpful nonetheless. After all, we are just human beings, and when faced with the powerful and ultimate cycle of birth and death, sometimes we need a little bit of help.

About two months after my friend visited the palm reader, he met a woman, a nice Jewish girl. They began dating, and now my friend says that this is a serious relationship. Was the palm reader right? Did she accurately predict that a new woman would come into his life? Or did the experience inspire my friend to open himself up to the possibility of finding someone, and give him confidence to find love?

I’m not sure if the palm reader worked or not. I’m not sure if superstitions are true or false. But I am willing to go along with what was written in Sefer Hasidim, the 13th Century Book of the Pious: “One should not believe in superstitions, but it is best to be heedful of them.” Or to put it another way: one time when I asked my dad what he thought about Jewish superstitions, he said to me: “Can’t hurt.”

Answers to The Fly Fishing Rabbi and Hanukkah Quiz

2007-12-10T10:08:00.000-05:00

Thanks to everyone who participated in The Fly Fishing Rabbi and Hanukkah quiz! Participants came from throughout the United States, Canada and the UK.

Everyone who emailed me an answer received a free Fly Fishing Rabbi refrigerator magnet. The winners of the prize drawing were selected randomly and have been informed.

And now on to the quiz questions and answers (drum roll…)

Fly Fishing Rabbi Questions: (All of the answers are somewhere on this website)

1. What are two fly fishing charities where donations go to help trout or the environment?

The holidays are a time to think about giving tzedakah, charity, to help others. As fly fishers, our task is not only to help people, but also the rivers we fish and our natural world. On the right side of my website about halfway down is a box entitled “Fly Fishing Charities” where I offer links to environmental and fly fishing organizations that I donate to on a regular basis.

Here is the list of those charities: American Forests, American Rivers, Casting for Recovery, Federation of Fly Fishers, Natural Resources Defense Council, Nature Conservancy and Trout Unlimited.

2. What kind of “fish” did I accidentally order, but not eat in Venice?

Cuttlefish, a member of the squid family! I do not eat pork and shellfish, as part of keeping the traditions of kosher, the Jewish dietary customs. In Venice, I saw an item called cuttlefish on the menu. Due to some problems in translation (an ignorance on my part!), I ordered it. To read the rest of the story: CLICK HERE

3. At a fly fishing Bar Mitzvah, what are two songs that the DJ could play at the party?

Here’s my list of fishing songs that would be good for a Fly Fishing Bar Mitzvah party:
Louis Armstrong’s “Gone’ Fishin”, “Crawfish” by Elvis, “Catfish John” by The Grateful Dead and “Catfish Blues” by Jimi Hendrix. (Crawfish and catfish are not kosher, but there is nothing wrong with singing about them!) Or the playlist might also include “Wading in the Velvet Sea” by Phish, the perfectly named band to hear at a Fly Fishing Bar Mizvah!

To read about the Fly Fishing Bar Mitzvah party, CLICK HERE

Hannukah Questions: (None of the answers are on The Fly Fishing Rabbi website)

4. What does the holiday of Hanukkah celebrate?

Hanukkah celebrates the defeat of the Greeks and the rededication of the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem in the second century BCE (Before Common Era, a term that Jews use in place of BC). One main theme of the holiday is religious freedom, as the Jews fought to protect their rights to practice their rituals and faith.

The Greek King Antiochus occupied Israel and Jerusalem. He did not like the Jews and desecrated the holy Temple. He placed statues of Greek gods on the holy site and sacrificed pigs on the altar, a particularly heinous offense since the Jews do not eat pork and consider the pig an unclean animal. The king essentially outlawed the practice of Judaism.

A small band of Jews gathered together, led by the Maccabee family (whose name means “hammer”). They revolted against the Greeks and kicked them out of the holy land, a great accomplishment considering the size and power of the Greek army.

When the Maccabees began to clean up the Temple, they wanted to relight the menorah, the seven branched candle holder. They only had one small jar of oil, enough to last for 24 hours. Then a miracle happened. That small jar lasted 8 days, until a new supply arrived. Today we celebrate Hanukkah and light the candles for 8 days to remember the miracle of the oil.

Hanukkah offers many ideas to celebrate: religious freedom, miracles and bringing light to dark places. Of course, we also give gifts to one another on Hanukkah to celebrate the holiday.

5. Why do Jews eat latkes on Hanukkah?

Latkes are potato pancakes deep fried in oil. My favorite latke recipe comes from my late grandmother. She would grate the onions and potatoes by hand and use a ratio of 1 part onion to 1 part potato! Her trick was to squeeze out the extra water before placing the latke in the oil. I follow my grandmother’s recipe, except that I fry them in olive oil, which tastes terrific.

Jews eat latkes because of the oil in which they are cooked. The oil reminds us of miracle of Hanukkah: the small jar of oil that was supposed to last 24 hours but burned for 8 full days.

6. What is the name of the 9 branch candle holder used on Hanukkah (Hint: It’s not a Menorah)?

This was the hardest question! The 9 branch candle holder that we light on Hanukkah is called a Hanukkiah, (pronounced Ha-nu-kee-yah) not a Menorah.

In the Bible, God tells Moses to fashion a menorah, a 7 branched candle holder to be used in the holy Temple. The menorah had 1 candle in the middle and three on either side. It was lit as part of the Temple ritual.

When the Jews began to celebrate Hanukkah, they lit a Hanukkiah which has 9 candles, one in the middle and four on either side. The 8 candles represent the miracle of Hanukkah, that the small jar of oil lasted for 8 days. The 9th candle in middle, called the shames (helper), is used to light the others.

Left Picture: The coat of arms of the modern day state of Israel contains a menorah with 7 candles, surrounded by olive branches and the writing yisrael, Israel.

Right Picture: A Hanukkiah which holds 9 candles, 4 on either side and the shames in the middle.

My best wishes to everyone for a happy holiday season.

The Fly Fishing Rabbi,
Eric Eisenkramer

Quiz on The Fly Fishing Rabbi and Hanukkah

2007-11-26T12:27:00.001-05:00

Happy Holidays! In appreciation of everyone who comes to visit The Fly Fishing Rabbi, and to celebrate this joyous time of year, I am offering a quiz that I hope will be fun and I will be giving away prizes.

Everyone who emails me any answer, right or wrong, will receive a free Fly Fishing Rabbi refrigerator magnet. Here’s a picture of that fine item:

The prizes up for grabs in the quiz are:

1. Fly Fishing Rabbi stuff: You may choose any one item from the new Fly Fishing Rabbi site at CafePress.com: www.cafepress.com/flyfishingrabbi

Check out bumper-stickers, mugs, hats and t-shirts with the Fly Fishing Rabbi logo.

2. Kerplunk!, the new book by Patrick F. McManus which chronicles his humorous outdoor adventures. This is my favorite quote from the book so far:

“I myself often receive criticism from persons who accompany me on camping trips because they are seldom mentioned in my articles. ‘You are in every sentence practically, and we weren’t even mentioned once. Besides, the facts are all wrong.’ That is the way the complaint is commonly phrased. I respond, ‘If you want to be mentioned, write your own story. And don’t bother me anymore about facts.’”

Two copies of Kerplunk! are available, courtesy of the publisher, Simon & Schuster.

3. Basket of Nuts or Chocolate: One $20 dollar gift certificate for a holiday gift basket of nuts, chocolate or dried fruit, provided by Oh! Nuts, http://www.ohnuts.com/.

The company was also kind enough to offer a free 10% discount to any reader of The Fly Fishing Rabbi. To use the discount, enter the following code at checkout: HBFD1120.

And now to the Quiz:

Fly Fishing Rabbi Questions: (All of the answers are somewhere on this website)

1. What are two fly fishing charities where donations go to help trout or the environment?

2. What kind of “fish” did I accidentally order, but not eat in Venice?

3. At a Fly Fishing Bar Mitzvah, what are two songs that the DJ could play at the party?

Hannukah Questions: (None of the answers are on The Fly Fishing Rabbi website)

4. What does the holiday of Hanukkah celebrate?

5. Why do Jews eat latkes on Hanukkah?

6. What is the name of the 9 branch candle holder used on Hanukkah (Hint: It’s not a Menorah)?

Submitting your answers:

Each correct answer to a quiz question earns you one entry in the free prize drawing. If you answer all the questions correctly, you will be entered six times.

To enter the Quiz, please e-mail me your answers before the first night of Hanukkah, sunset on Tuesday, December 4th.

If you would like to receive the free magnet, please include your mailing address, which will remain confidential.

To e-mail me your answers, CLICK HERE.

I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday season and has fun with the quiz!

All the best,

The Fly Fishing Rabbi, Eric Eisenkramer