by Sam Glaser
December 2009

I’ve seen it time and time again. Your friend’s kid, whom you know since he was in diapers, is transformed into a young adult who can read from the Torah, lead a prayer service and give an intelligent speech in front of hundreds of people.  Other cultures engage in body mutilations, the hunting of big game or mock combat.  Jews train their kids to head a board of directors.

The mechanics of transition and transformation are mysterious and yet the results are palpable.  My Jesse, now a man of thirteen is vastly more responsible, thoughtful and capable than he was at twelve.  It seems that something more than chronology is at play here.  My theory is that the key word in life transitions is expectations.  That as a species we rise up and answer the call; in our spiritual DNA we are hardwired not to disappoint.

Perhaps the most universal and fundamental transition is marriage.  With a few words we leave single life behind and enter a committed, caring relationship, forever.  Incredible to think that for some, the night before the wedding a drunken bachelor party ensues. These vows are usually accompanied by a tremendous expense for a catering hall and a great band (yes, a band and not a DJ!)  On the most basic level, if one is spending all this cash he/she had better be serious about this union.  But operating on a deeper plane, the expectations and prayers of all assembled help the marriage succeed, offering invisible support for the partners to find the desire and strength to maintain fidelity and nurture their loving bond so that it remains unbreakable.

In “Supernature II,” author Lyall Watson investigates phenomena that are beyond the scope of scientific research.  One of his case studies involves the power of human will as observed at professional basketball games.  Many factors are involved in creating the home court advantage but Dr. Watson argues that the most powerful force is the focused desire of the fans that the ball drops into the hoop.  Harvard researcher Ryan Boyko studied 5,000 soccer games in the UK to determine the formula that for every 10,000 people attending, the home team advantage increases by 0.1 goals.

My brother Yom Tov is a Pinsk Karlin chassid in Jerusalem.  He has transformed himself from a dreadlocked, tie-dyed surfer dude into a shtreimel (fur hat) and robe wearing chassid indistinguishable from theothers in his sect.  One of his good buddies recently became the Pinsk Karlin rebbe, the head honcho.  From one day to the next, he went from being “one of the guys” to conducting the tishes (ceremonial meals), answering shylas (questions) and performing miracles.  Yes, even performing miracles.  I am convinced that this radical transformation came about because the community NEEDS him to be the rebbe.  They invest their collective will in him, lifting him to great heights, giving him capabilities that even he didn’t know he possessed.

My career offers me momentary glimpses into the transition towards rebbe-hood.  When I show up in any given city for a successful Shabbaton or concert, the preparation is often very extensive.  Ads and interviews have been placed in the papers, my video is playing in the synagogue or JCC lobby, the choir kids have been learning my songs, my CDs have been circulating in the carpools.  The producer of the event needs me to be a smash hit.  The congregants come to the services and/or the show hoping to be touched and uplifted.  At the meals I am surrounded by those who want to share an anecdote, a musical memory or a crisis, or simply to find out if I know so-and-so in L.A.  I truly feel uplifted by all this attention.  It’s not an ego thing.  It’s empowerment.  And with that empowerment I can sing higher and longer, my workshops are more profound, my delivery more lucid and I am able to look into a new friend’s eyes and respond with the deepest knowing.

It seems that if we can harness the power of the “I do” marital transformation that we can accomplish anything in our lives. Maybe it’s a matter of enlisting others to stand behind us in our personal commitments. Just as we honor our word while under the canopy, so too can we honor our commitment to anything to which we aspire.  I would surmise that the reason that Alcoholics Anonymous is so successful is because the group with whom the ex-drinker meets regularly has expectations and is pulling for the individual.  But another factor in AA’s efficacy is connecting one’s efforts with Divine assistance.  In the text Ethics of the Fathers we learn that “it’s not up to us to finish the task, but neither are we free to desist.”  G-d is a most powerful teammate, but G-d waits for us to make the first move.

One of the first Jewish songs I wrote was Hineni (here I am.)  It became a summer camp standard and was recorded by many artists, my friend Craig Taubman among them.  In my fledgling Torah study back in 1990 Iwas fascinated by the common response of our biblical heroes when called upon for greatness.  Hineni, according to our master commentator Rashi, signals alacrity, the readiness to act with heroic zeal.  That year the Jewish community was mobilizing to aid the Jews of the former Soviet Union who were able to emigrate freely for the first time in their lives.  This seemed to me like my generation’s “Hineni moment.”  I believe we all are preprogrammed to be called upon and respond Hineni.  But someone has to do the calling.

My late friend Lou Rudolph was a famed Hollywood producer who found his “Letter in the Torah” while in his 50’s.  He got turned onto the power of Judaism and filled his days with learning, tzedakah (charity) and outreach.  Singlehandedly he mobilized our Pico-Robertson community.  When Lou Rudolph phoned, you took the call. And when he told you what he needed you to do, you said “Hineni!”  Lou had a heart attack in his Lexus and couldn’t call for help.  His wife gave me his wardrobe.  I feel his presence every time I don one of his Armani or Hugo Boss suits.  And I hear his voice every time I am about to go back to sleep and avoid doing what needs to be done.

We live lives in quiet desperation, waiting to be called upon to make a difference.  I believe that the necessity of daily prayer is to hear G-d’s voice in our heads on a regular basis repeating the mantra “I need you!  I’m calling you to choose life, to be great, to help others, to avoid selfishness and close-mindedness, to ask Me for anything you desire.”  In truth we are called everyday. It’s not just our friends and family that empower us.  It’s the Creator of the universe.

Life is throwing curve balls everyday.  This economy has so many of us in states of confusion, hopelessness and depression.  In a G-d centered universe, everything that happens to us is for our good.  Please G-d, let us find strength in our hearts.  Let us take the initiative.  Let us find new and better ways to express ourselves, to support our families, to realize our dreams, to leave a lasting legacy.

We bless our boys at a bris (ritual circumcision) by saying “just as he has entered into the covenant, so may he enter into the Torah, the marriage canopy and good deeds.”  A bris is painful.  We anesthetize the baby with a few drops of wine but he still screams.  Transitions hurt.  Remarkably, we pray that with the same pain with which the baby has entered the covenant, so too may he go through his life.  Nike has it right. No pain, no gain.  In other words, no pain, no pleasure.  The opposite of pain is comfort.  Comfort is for wimps.

My son Jesse worked almost nightly with me for the past year to learn his Torah portion, haftorah and how to lead the prayer service.  He cried and moaned and quit and tried again the next evening.  Any good marriage requires hard work.  Attention to detail, self sacrifice, gestures large and small, carpools, changing diapers, taking out the trash and weekly date nights.  Every decent movie has an engaging plot, with a villain and a hero and challenges to overcome, or else we’d just walk out of the theater.

Each transition we face can be seen as a disaster or as an opportunity.  Try to see each test as a love note from G-d who believes in you enough to push you to the next level. The “right” of passage is the allowing oneself to accept pain as part of this loving process.  And to know that our friends, community, family and Creator are with us in the trenches, pulling for us, praying for us and serving as the wind beneath our wings.