Debbie Friedman has been a part of my life for nearly 40 years, but I didn’t meet her or speak with her until about 15 years ago. As Debbie herself said when she spoke at B’nai Jeshurun for my 10th anniversary service in 2009, ours was an extraordinary, but a complicated, relationship.
Soon after I graduated form the Hebrew Union College in 1972 and assumed my first pulpit in Albany, I took my youth group to Kutz Camp in Warwick, New York. This was the hey-day of NFTY and hundreds of teenagers would gather in the dining room for song sessions following every meal. There was an incredible energy and the voices melded together in glorious melody, harmony, and rhythm. Mind you, I had just finished 5 years of cantorial studies and I had no clue what they were singing. We had studied the classics of Jewish music and we were not unfamiliar with contemporary and popular Jewish music. This was the era of Nurit Hirsch and the glorious music of the Israeli and Chassidic Song Festivals. I had studied and performed the pioneer folk-rock services of Gershon Kingsley and Ray Smolover. I had even written one with Bruce Benson that was published in 1972. But the music I heard at Kutz was of a unique genre. It was infectious, it was powerful, it could evoke tears or cheers. It could rouse and engage even the most cynical of teens. It was, quite simply, magical. Who was the composer of much of this music? It was a young woman in her early 20’s by the name of Debbie Friedman I quickly learned to sing and to love her songs – “Sing Unto God,” “Not By Might,” “Kumi Lach,” “Thou Shalt Love,” and dozens of others which flowed from her creative genius over the subsequent years.
Debbie was a product of NFTY, serving as a song leader in various camps. She was influenced by the song of Joan Baez; Joni Mitchell; Peter, Paul and Mary; and the protest movement of the 1960’s. Her first album, “Sing Unto God,” was released in 1972, followed by 19 more over the next three decades.
Quoting from one of the many news stories that were published after her passing:
“Despite the popularity of her music, Friedman was an outsider in the Jewish musical establishment for most of her life. Not only did Friedman have no cantorial training, she never finished college. And she long faced resistance from cantors, rabbis and others who considered her music inappropriate in synagogue.”
It was for this reason that Debbie characterized our early relationship as “complicated.” Until I met her some 15 years ago, my colleagues and I viewed her with suspicion and fear. She was revolutionizing synagogue music, overturning the established order. What were her credentials? Was our training in vain? Had the reform movement sold out to a guitar-strumming song leader who might be sounding the death knell of the cantorate?
Fear has a way of blinding the eye and obscuring rational thought. Rather than embracing Debbie and her music, she was shunned by the established cantorial community. It wasn’t until the mid-90’s, when I was introduced to her and encountered first-hand her gentle demeanor, her soulful presence, her sharp wit, her courage, and her deep spiritual connection to Judaism and the Jewish people, that I realized we had missed the mark. Debbie never presented herself as a rabbi or a cantor. She never thought of herself as a Jewish leader – although she was surely one. She expressed her personal credo this way:
I am a Jew because I know that it is not meant for me to do this work alone. I am engaged both with the Holy One and with all of those with whom I am involved. I am a Jew because I know the world that you and I and many others like us envision is a world yet to be created by us. I am a Jew because in spite of all the hatred and violence in this world, I believe we must hope and live together as if the world were sheltered beneath the wings of the Shekhinah. We must live as if we were enveloped in a world of love and compassion. I am a Jew because together we must pray for the day when all people will sit beneath the vine and fig tree-when none shall be afraid and when all the words that come forth shall be words that speak of the family of humanity. The world you had envisioned is a world that we will continue to build through song and prayer, through action and acts of loving-kindness. Often we dreamers are laughed at for our lofty thoughts. In truth it is love and peace that are two values that cannot be touched or defiled by anyone. They are held in one’s heart and soul in the most sacred parts of us, and they soar to the highest heights in the heavens.
And so, in 1999, when I was completing my 10 year stint as Executive Vice President of the American Conference of Cantors, serving as spokesperson for the reform cantorate, I invited Debbie to address the membership at our annual convention. Debbie looked at me and said “you must be joking…they’ll lynch me! It would be like putting a lamb in the lion’s den.” I assured her that I would protect her and it was time that healing took place. If my colleagues could only get a glimpse into the soul of this remarkable person, I had no doubt that she would be embraced under those sheltering wings of which she often spoke. So, with trepidation, she came to Massachusetts, and the cantorate, as I had predicted, fell in love with Debbie Friedman and embraced her with love, respect, and admiration.
In 2002, we brought her to B’nai Jeshurun to serve as Artist in Residence. Debbie had been to Jeshurun several times before this, but, our goal in bringing her this time was to enlist her help in transitioning our shabbat worship from the older, more formal model, to a more participatory, contemporary model. Debbie and I, along with her then musical director, David Bravo, created a model that gave birth to “Shabbat B’Shir” which was a regular part of our worship for seven years. Her influence continues to be felt each and every shabbat.
In 2003, I urged the American Conference of Cantors to recognize her seminal contributions to Jewish music and make her an Honorary Member of the Conference. This we did at the 50th Annual Convocation at Temple Emanu-El in New York City. I offered these words in tribute to her:
Spiritual leaders come in many different forms. Not all of them assume the mantle of the clergy .Some arise b’emtza hakahal – from among the ranks of the men and women and children of the congregation of Israel.
Like her Biblical namesake, Deborah Lynn Friedman has left an indelible mark on the Jewish people. Our modern day Deborah’s songs have brought us the timeless message of hope and spiritual uplift. For over three decades, her voice and her presence have touched the hearts and souls of young and old. She has taught us that music has great healing power, that melody can move mountains, and that simple and heartfelt song can unburden a weakened spirit and bring joy to a troubled soul.
More than a singer, composer, and teacher, Debbie Friedman is a shining example of one whose life’s work is dedicated to fulfilling the Talmudic dictum v’havaat shalom bein adam l’chavero – to bring peace and wholeness to human kind. Through melody, word, and personal example, she has taken us to places we did not know, and thereby taught us of the joy of life and how to open our souls to receive God’s blessings. Through her warmth, her creativity, and her faith in the basic goodness of humanity, she has engaged and ennobled our spirits. Her work is nothing less than a total commitment to bringing shalom v’reyut – peace and understanding – into the lives of others. Long may our Deborah teach us to sing glorious paeans of praise to the Most High.
Someone recently said that her untimely passing has caused her brilliant light to be extinguished. As bereft as we are by her passing, as deeply as we mourn her loss, the light of her spirit now burns even brighter. For as long as her songs are sung, for as long as we are committed to the values she embodied, for as long as we remember and are inspired by the gifts of her heart, and mind, and soul, Debbie Friedman will have achieved a measure of immortality which death cannot sever.
Ralph Waldo Emerson said it eloquently: “Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.” Indeed Debbie Friedman forged that path for us and left it clearly marked for us to find our way in the years ahead.
Rest well my friend and sleep with the angels. We shall miss you dearly. To paraphrase Debbie’s own words:
May you be blessed as you go on your way.
May you be guided in peace.
May you be blessed with calm and joy.
May this be your blessing. Amen.
May you be sheltered by the wings of peace.
May you be kept in safety and in love
May grace and compassion find their way to every soul.
May you be our blessing. Amen.
Visiting Cuba is like being transported back in time. From the vintage 1940′s and 1950′s cars, to the exquisite architecture of the 19th and early 20th centuries, to the stately Hotel Nacional and the colorful Riviera Hotel reminiscent of the frenetic and infamous Havana of 1930 through the late 1950′s. And then there are the persistent reminders of the Revolution which attempted to end class distinction and slammed the door on capitalism and changed the face of Cuba. It was a privilege to shepherd 40 of our congregants through this unique country. Our eyes were opened as we had a glimpse of what was and what yet might be someday. In the next few weeks you shall read the impressions of some of the mission participants who will share their thoughts and feelings with us.
