Sorrow and Song

Last Friday, the Olympia neighborhood in Monsey and people across the nation were stunned and grief stricken by the sudden and tragic death of Rabbi Eliyahu (Eli) Fink z’l in an accident. R’ Fink was 43 years old, a father, husband, lawyer, journalist, educator and Rabbi. He founded the ‘Shul on the Beach’ on the Venice Beach boardwalk in LA, welcoming everyone who crossed its threshold. He wrote the ‘Fink or Swim’ Blog at a time when the kind of respectful and thoughtful debate we now seek in vain on our social media was the currency of the Jewish blogosphere. He was respected and valued across the Jewish world.

He was compassionate, kind, and committed to Torah values, especially as they related to helping others and comforting those in need. I attended his funeral on Sunday, along with hundreds and hundreds of people from across the community and the country who mourned his loss at such a young age. His compassion inspired me for years, and I feel a responsibility, as I know many others do, to carry on his legacy of tolerance, chesed, and integrity. I hope that we can all be inspired by a life like his, though tragically cut short. Tehey Zichro Baruch.

One of the things R’ Fink was known for was his appreciation of good music and his talent as a singer and chazan. Though I make no claim to great talent, I have had years of opportunity to be a Baal Tefila, a prayer leader. Back in 2003, I took on a role at a small synagogue in Northern Ontario in the town of Owen Sound as Baal Tefila and spiritual leader for high holidays and other occasions at the Beth Ezekiel Congregation. I guess they liked me, because I stuck around for 12 years, and got to know that wonderful Jewish community very well.

One year early on, I had heard a very old Irish song, ‘The Foggy Dew’, (a dirge written in the aftermath of the Easter Rising of 1916) sung by Sinead O'connor and played by The Chieftains. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=keWnPZOd2cw This was a beautiful, haunting tune, and I immediately resolved to use it in the Kedusha of the Musaf service on Rosh Hashanah. When I sang it, (facing the Ark and away from the congregation) I was sure that I heard a titter or gasp when I started singing the tune. After the service, a middle aged woman with a distinct Irish lilt, who had sat at the back, came up to me smiling, and perhaps with a tear in her eye, and asked “Was that ‘The Foggy Dew’ I heard you use?” I answered yes, and she told me that her grandmother used to sing it to her (as a little girl) as they baked in her kitchen on Sunday mornings. It was not something she expected to hear at Beth Ezekiel, and it was very meaningful for her to hear it again in the context of prayer.

I am inspired by music - which often carries a magic and almost a holiness all of its own - as was Eli Fink. I’m always looking to innovate in what I listen to, how I use it, and how I can imbue that use with something spiritual. For a few weeks, I’ve been listening to (with my musically inspired and inclined 7 year old daughter) and trying to find a use for the melodies in a French pop song, by Zaho and Indila. It is called Roi 2 Coeur (King 2 the Heart) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wR-wJrU6TKU.

What struck me immediately about this tune was that it contained three distinct and complex melodies, but its structure was a relatively simple ABAB. I immediately thought of our intensely mystical ‘Shalom Aleichem’ Shabbat song, which so many of us use when we welcome in Shabbat. Many of us (myself included) most often recite each stanza only once, but the long form and original method is to recite each verse three times. This song seems made to be adapted to Shalom Aleichem, and I’ll try to do so. Inspired by the melodies, inspired by the people, like Eli Fink, who use them. Inspired by kindness, compassion, and a legacy tinged with sorrow, we’ve all got songs to sing.

Shabbat Shalom.