Posts Tagged ‘prayer song’

Being Enough

Friday, August 5th, 2011

During the era in which I graduated, Fairfax High School was known as “the Jewish high school”.

Located at the corner of Fairfax and Melrose in the Borscht Belt section of L.A., the school was nestled in a pre-Hip Melrose Avenue pocket of small Orthodox synagogues, assorted bookstores, Cantor’s Restaurant and a nifty record shop called Norty’s.

Recently I attended a small get-together noting the forty-fifth anniversary of my class’ graduation. Honestly, I really hadn’t much wanted to go, but as she so often does these days, my fiance’ gently pushed me in the right direction.

Upon arrival, I decided that as long as I was there, I may as well try to learn something from the experience. I decided to be more of a listener than a talker and try to get a handle on how some of my fellow classmates have really turned out.

For the most part, it was an easy tactic: given the opportunity, most folks jump at the chance to talk uninterrupted about themselves. To be fair, they also wanted to know about me, but it still wasn’t hard to keep the ball mostly in their court.

Fairfax had always been known as a breeding ground for academic achievers, and this sampling has lived-up to expectations. One gentleman is a longtime administrator at UCLA., and another at MIT. A third has his own consulting firm up North and a fourth is a renown Doctor and legislator who’s on the verge of completing his second book.

I heard stories of estimable achievements, exotic travels, impending retirement plans, and saw pictures of beautiful grown children and grandchildren fostered by tri-decade marriages.

Truth to be told, I had an enjoyable time. These are all good people living good lives. Surprisingly, my overwhelming emotion was… pride. Rightfully or not, I felt proud for them. They are fine people who contribute to the American fabric and stay the path.

When last I went to one of these events, about ten years ago, my reaction was a different one. Hearing of the others’ more mainstream experiences and successes, I remember coming away with an embarrassing sense of envy and resentment. “Why had their lives seemingly gone so much smoother than mine? How come their material possessions so dwarfed mine? Jeez, I feel like such a failure next to some of them…”

But not this time.

Though nothing’s really changed on our varied life’s paths, I began to notice a new pattern developing in the conversations. After achievements were outlined and Smart Phone pictures replaced in pockets, the topic seemed to inevitably turn to spirituality. And it’s no surprise, is it? As we get older, it’s natural to think more about our own mortality and a Bigger Picture.

Knowing that I’m co-founder and Music Director of a synagogue congregation, some of the guys seemed comfortable wanting to share their  spiritual status with me. One told of embracing a philosophy which combines aspects of Buddhism and Judaism. Another has regular meetings at his house specifically to discuss Matters Spiritual. A third hasn’t had much of a religious affiliation, but revealed that lately he’s been feeling a strong pull to get back to his roots.

And as they spoke, I was reminded of our real common bond: God.

I must confess that I talked a lot about the members of my congregation. I didn’t quite brag about them… well, I guess the truth is that I really did.

I talked about this miraculous congregation of which I’m so blessed to be a part. I talked about five hundred people at every Sabbath service and fifteen hundred at High Holy Day services. I marveled at the membership’s continued willingness to let me do my art at their services, and what a holy extended family we all are.

I shared about the miracles and recovery I’ve seen in our community nurtured by our synagogue, and how we continue to grow by impressive numbers. And in each case, I saw a look of nodding recognition in my friends’ eyes. Whether they actually did or not, I’d like to think they kinda “got” who I am.

I walked away from the get-together with a serene sense of pride and gratitude for what my life has become. And yet again I was reminded that conjuring-up feelings of being less than someone else is usually just a misguided, self-defeating waste of time.

We’re all Children of Almighty God, possessing of daily opportunities to grow, improve and lead meaningful lives. As long as we continually dedicate ourselves to those goals, I believe that in God’s eyes, I’m enough – you’re enough – we’re all good enough.

Apparently Fairfax High still had something to teach me.

Thank You, God.

 

 

Clarity At Its Own Pace

Saturday, September 25th, 2010

With all their majesty, for me this year’s High Holy Day services of my religion-of-choice had a flavor all their own.

For those who may not be familiar, reform Jewish High Holy Day services are divided in five: an evening and morning service celebrating the Jewish New Year, and a week or so later an evening and two separate daytime services experiencing the Day of Atonement – the most solemn day on the Jewish calendar.

After a lovely first evening’s services, my arrival at the sanctuary the next morning was greeted by an excited friend with magazine in hand. “Congratulations, congratulations! Have you seen it yet?”  I asked what she was talking about, and she said, “the article about you in this week’s Los Angeles Jewish Journal! Here, I’ve brought a copy for you!”

And there it was: a column by Journal editor Rob Eshman titled “You Don’t Know Jack.”

I decided to hold off looking at it until after the service concluded, and excited anticipation became an ingredient of my morning’s experience. Immediately afterward, at the first quiet moment I sat down to read.

My first reactions were gratitude and admiration. How kind of Rob to give me such a generous, sensitive spotlight. And as I read, I was taken both with his usual exceptional writing abilities and his display of integrity and insight.

A beautiful present and notable way to start the Jewish New Year.

But as I read, I also began feeling some regret that much of the column detailed my past, and what happened fifteen years ago. I know – it’s a major part of my life’s story, but still….

And immediately I began dreading the following week’s Day Of Atonement services – ironically fifteen years to the day since my children were taken – and the miserable prospect of being viewed as a victim all over again.

It’s not that I’m in denial about my past – how could I be? But early on I made a choice that I’d fight the impulse to let it define me as an object of tragedy, and I’ve worked hard for a long time to minimize that perception.

I’d like to think that my life, my music and my writing today have become about praise of God, love, creativity and service to others… and profound gratitude for every blessed moment.  I’ve become convinced that, like it or not, our worst challenges afford us extraordinary opportunities to better the world. I believe that every day God provides us with circumstances and scenarios in which we can be of help to others, but our eyes and hearts must be open to recognize them.

When others hear of my story and my music today, rather than sadness, I’d far rather they come away with hope, inspiration and a bit more certainty that they can survive any of their life’s trials – as long as they remain in alignment with the God who so clearly loves and cherishes them.

Ironically, the cover story of the following week’s Journal – with the word “Hope” emblazoned across the front in big letters – talks about the message I’d like to think that I stand for and share with others.

But as a dear friend says to me when I’ve manufactured turmoil in my life, “Pal, you’re right on schedule. There’s no accidents in God’s world.”

And he’s right again. It all turned out the way it was supposed to. Yom Kippur had its emotionally bumpy moments, and some people came up to me with that familiar look of pity in their eyes.  But even more said that, despite the fact they were so sorry I had undergone such trauma, they came away inspired.

And again I got to play music and conduct my choir – once more having been granted the privilege of utilizing my art to be of service to God.

And yet again, I was so grateful.

For those who didn’t know me before, after reading the article I’m not sure whether or not they still don’t know Jack – at least this year’s edition.

What a great new challenge I have for this New Year: to find other avenues to let them know.

As stated: a beautiful and notable new beginning.

Thank You God for the gift of  clarity – even if it comes at its own pace.

The Gift Of Desperation

Wednesday, September 15th, 2010

Having been around the Recovery Community for a number of years, I’ve heard an assortment of venerable, insightful slogans. No doubt you’ve heard some of the more familiar ones: “One Day At A Time”, “Just For Today”, “Easy Does It”, etc.

However, this morning I heard a new nugget of insight, and it resonated with digital clarity. It came from someone I hadn’t previously met – a seemingly articulate, accomplished, successful individual.

Her statement was, “I’m grateful for the gift of desperation”.

Yes, I know: we’ve all heard the essence of that thought before. But nevertheless, there’s something about hearing the words “desperate” and “gift” in the same sentence that whisper a unique sense of truth to me.

“Desperation” usually means we think we’ve hit bottom. Our luck appears expired and “hope” is for somebody else. Fear’s about to overtake us and we’re on the brink of panic. Some might describe the feeling as being incomprehensibly demoralized.

But aren’t those the moments when we’re willing to try anything? Aren’t those the times when we’re most prone to recognize that we can’t live our lives run on Self Will alone? Aren’t those the junctures at which we’re most willing to finally turn to the God who loves us?

And as a result, those might actually be the holy moments when our lives really begin to change. Previously undreamed-of options start to appear. Obstacles we thought insurmountable are slowly, systematically conquered. Agonizing, self-sabotaging impulses over which we felt utterly powerless – gradually, miraculously become surmountable on a daily basis, with God as our Director.

Desperation’s no fun – no one asks for it. But I feel a sense of comfort and encouragement hearing that there are those who’ve concluded that some of their worst moments turned out to have been God’s most profound gifts.

Holding On To Cinemascope Dreams

Monday, April 26th, 2010

I remember years ago listening to one of radio’s first on-air psychologists, a lady named Doctor Toni Grant.

Toni was perfect for the gig. Possessing of smooth, dulcet tones and a reassuring, level-headed manner, she espoused traditional family values long before political fear-mongers expropriated them as weapons of mass manipulation. She never screamed, shrieked or deliberately belittled anyone. She was the gold standard by which today’s media shrinks should be measuring themselves, though regrettably few do.

It was on Dr. Grant’s shows that I first heard the two sagely phrases, “life is not a dress rehearsal” and “life isn’t always fair”.

In retrospect, they both appear hackneyed absolutes of today’s self-help culture in which everyone’s got an answer for everyone else’s problems.

But they’re still big pills to swallow – especially side by side.

On one hand we’re warned that we’d better live in the here-and-now, because today is yesterday’s tomorrow. If there’s places to go and people to see, the time to act is now. If our hearts are of cinemascope dreams, we’d best set about making them come true, because who knows what tomorrow may bring?

And it’s good advice which goes hand in hand with Rabbi Hillel’s famous words, “…and if not now, when?” We procrastinate at our own peril, because rehearsal time’s long since expired.

But then there’s the other guy.

That sneaky little scamp who warns us that we dare not let our expectations get out of hand; that “real world” warning which suggests we ought not dream too wide; that harbinger of defeat which screams that some people are destined to succeed – while it’s just not in the cards for others; that nexus of negativity which whispers that, despite our most herculean efforts, we’re destined to live lives of quiet frustration because, after all… life isn’t always fair.

So how do we reconcile all that when we’re at moments in our lives when we’re overrun with disappointment and disillusionment?

Don’t look to me for an answer because right now I haven’t got one. Huge issues in my life aren’t yet going the way I’d hoped, despite my certainty that I’ve tried my best and worked my hardest. On top of that, a spiritual philosophy to which I subscribe warns me not to have excessive expectations, and suggests I act as if I’m in acceptance, whether I really am or not.

But I’m not there yet. I’m not willing to accept that this is the way it’s gonna be, and that I shouldn’t expect the panorama of my life to expand beyond my wildest dreams if I continue to work for it.

I’m not gonna give up. I’m just not.

But between you and me, what I am gonna do is continue to pray. I am going to continue to turn my dreams over to my God, even if He’s not acting as the waiter I’d selfishly like Him to be and serving up orders on my timetable.

I’ve been at this life too long to believe He’s not listening. I’ve got no other choice than to continue working hard and trying to be the best man I can for the people in my life who love me. Damn the “life isn’t always fair” adage right now. More importantly, I’m not rehearsing for my life – I’m living it.

And I’m choosing to believe that God hasn’t carried me this far to drop me now.

Thanks Doctor Grant. You were a big help.

Why the Serenity Prayer?

Wednesday, November 18th, 2009

(from my other site www.TheSerenityPrayer.net)

There are prayers for virtually every circumstance in life. We pray for trivial do-overs and crucial hope against the odds. We ask God for mundane favors and extraordinary miracles. 

With thousands of prayers written and available, why in moments of challenge do so many choose to utter the words of the Serenity Prayer? To find an answer, let’s examine some other regularly offered reverent prayers.

The Lord’s Prayer solemnly asks forgiveness and guidance: "… forgive our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil…"

The Prayer of St. Francis eloquently asks that we be of service to others: "Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace; where there is hatred, I may bring love; where there is wrong, I may bring the spirit of forgiveness…"

The Prayer of Jabez asks for personal gain and protection: "Oh, that You would bless me indeed, and enlarge my territory… that You would keep me from evil, that I may not cause pain… "

The Serenity Prayer, in its most familiar twenty-five word abbreviated text, humbly asks for clarity, willingness, acceptance, courage and wisdom.

In moments of strife, what better asset than our own most clear judgment? The Serenity Prayer petitions God to grant us peace of mind and heart ("God grant me the serenity…") in order that we see through the clutter of fears, doubts and resentments which so often cloud our perception of our circumstances.

The prayer asks that we be gifted with willingness to accept what is at hand ("…to accept the things I cannot change.."). It asks that we give up the fights which cannot or should not be won, the circumstances which cannot or should not be altered. It reminds us that, despite our most fervent desires and best of intentions, we are not God. We are mere mortals – albeit Divinely Created Children Of God – but still mortals just the same. We endeavor not to place ourselves in a position to control other people, places or things.

The Serenity Prayer nevertheless beseeches God for courage to overcome our innermost fears and, when appropriate, to take action ("…courage to change the things I can…"). 

Fear of ridicule can block us from speaking our minds. Fear of rejection holds us back from expressing love and admiration for others. Fear of injury bars us from adventure and exploration. Fear of failure sabotages our willingness to follow our dreams.

Through the Serenity Prayer we ask God to do for us what we cannot do for ourselves – to silence the pervasive fears which undermine the quality of our lives. We ask for courage to conquer those personal hurdles we previously thought insurmountable. We ask for fortitude to right the wrongs which will help make our world a better place.

And finally, the Serenity Prayer asks of God that we may be wise at those times when we are least prone to be so ("… and the wisdom to know the difference.").

At times of emotional disturbance or indecision, the right course of action is often blurred. As we quietly say the Serenity Prayer, we pray for wisdom to discern between that which will be of most service to God and our fellows, and those ill-advised actions which will, in the long run, ultimately bring regret and misery to ourselves and others. 

And at the conclusion of the Serenity Prayer, many of us reaffirm to God our humble, grateful reliance upon Him by saying the words, "Thy Will, not mine, be done."

                                                                                        – Jack Bielan

P.S. If you get a chance, please visit my other site, which features my song, "Serenity (Serenity Prayer Song)" at  www.TheSerenityPrayer.net