Since 2003 I have been the Senior Jewish Chaplain for the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department in their entire jail system. I am also the Jewish Chaplain at Corcoran State Prison, and serve as the Rabbi, part time, for K'hilat HaAloneem in Ojia, California. While in the jails and institutions I am primarily there for the Jewish inmates, I also have a considerable amount of interaction with non-Jewish inmates, most of whom are addicts. No matter what the crime, I found that the common beginning point was addiction.



I devote a considerable amount of time with my men post-incarceration. Helping them, encouraging them, to try and build a sober and healthy new life. It is gratifying that while there is a 78% recidivism rate for normal inmates. I have been blessed to see a high percentage of men with whom I work most intensively who have changed that statistic. With my men, there is a non scientific rate of 80% who do not return to jail.



Even though the system is troubled. I continue to be amazed at the courage and strength of so many of my men. The majority of who have come to me after being incarcerated numerous times before. These men have given and continue to give my life blessings that I never could have imagined. I hope that their stories can do he same for you.







Monday, February 7, 2011

A Blessing I Never Expected

Each summer, through the generous support of Edna Weiss and her late husband Mickey Weiss, the Board of Rabbis and the Jewish Federation are able to send two rabbis and their spouses to participate in the Shalom Hartman Institute's Rabbinic Torah Study Seminar in Jerusalem.

At the Seminar, rabbis of all denominations from North America, Europe and Israel engage in intensive Jewish learning. The program combines intensive hevruta study, lectures, discussions and a tiyyul designed to enhance the effectiveness of rabbis as educators and spiritual leaders. 


I am excited to announce that this year I was one of the two Rabbis who received this scholarship.  I was very proud and honored when I was told that I had been chosen to go to Jerusalem to study with such wonderful people.  I look forward to bringing back some new and exciting tools, which I can use to teach the men I work with, to help them with their connection to Judaism and God. 

Friday, February 4, 2011

Debbie Friedman


Debbie Friedman gave the Jewish people their voices back. That was a resounding conclusion in almost every memorial written. Her death reminded all of us what a blessing she has been to all of us and how much she wanted us to share our voices with each other and with God.

In synagogues, camps, concert halls

I work in the state prison where it is incredibly difficult to ‘share’ your voice. Emotions are kept tightly under wraps. For my men, the idea of singing and feeling and sharing has been a challenge for me. In one-on-one sessions I often get a glimpse behind their masks. But only a little. And only in private.

The songs we sing at our weekly Ma’ariv service are 95% Debbie Friedman songs. I have tried to teach them how to reach prayer by singing. They have learned the beginnings of Hebrew from singing “The Alef Bet Song.” It took months to get them to raise their voices, to sing at all,  to find their own spark of God.

Now, I’m proud to share that the 35-40 men on this yard in Corcoran know several songs. And, what’s more incredible, in a place where it is dangerous to show feelings, they come into the chapel ready and hoping to sing and to pray. 

We end every service with “Tefilat Ha’derecb” in a circle with everyone’s arms around each other’s shoulders.  This may seem like very little to all of you, but it an amazing sight inside the prison walls where emotions are as tightly locked up as the men are and where too much closeness (hugging/arms linked) are very suspicious to the officers.

I recently decided to experiment with a healing service for the 40 or so men who attend weekly services on C yard. I had no idea how it would be received. I explained that I wanted them to just ‘listen’ to what I was going to play and sing. I asked them to sit on the floor. I lowered the chapel lights. I reminded them that a lot of the spiritual work we have been doing has been to re-connect them to their neshama.;That, just as Jacob had realized, achein yeish Adonai, bamakom hazeh v’anochi lo yadati,  God is in this place too and they cannot allow themselves to forget that.

I also suggested they close their eyes and let the music take them wherever it would take them. Even if some might fall asleep, I knew it was important for them to close themselves off from feeling embarrassed or nervous about how the other men would be reacting and if they closed their eyes they wouldn’t be looking around nervously checking to see what the other men were doing. I told them Id tell them when I was done so they wouldn’t worry about when to open up again.

Then I played and sang for half an hour. All music from Debbie’s healing album. I sang “Light These Lights” and “Asher yatzar” and worked  my way through the book.

To my great surprise, there was absolutely no movement in the room. Not a sound. No shuffling. Just silence.

When I finished and stood up to walk over to the light switch, my clerk, Felix (an inmate) quickly came over and quietly suggested I leave the lights off for a couple of minutes.

There were so many reddened eyes and such a quiet introspective feeling in the room when I finally did turn the lights back on. Instead of the usual high energy, there was peace.

We ended, as always, by gathering into a circle, arms around each other, to sing “Tefilat HaDerech.”  It was vastly more touching than usual.

I offered a blessing and sent them back to their buildings. The next morning several of the men, long term inmates, tough guys, came in and shyly asked when I would do that service again.

Debbie Friedman  did indeed change the way a generation prayed and found their voices. I share this to show you another place,  possibly unimagined by most of you, where her brilliance and blessings  bring light and comfort and Godliness into Corcoran State Prison and the jails of Los Angeles. They are all singing louder and more confidently each week.   They wait for Mi Shabeirach and their chance to ask God for healing with their voices  and their hearts joined in song.

My men are struggling with their demons and their pasts. But with our services and the music of Debbie Friedman, they are slowly moving into their future by building their relationship with God and with Judaism on their journey to a place they do not know.

Intro To Blog

I do the majority of my rabbinic work inside the jails of LA County and the state prison, Corcoran, as well.  The basic difference between the two are that jail is generally shorter term incarceration: either the inmate is waiting for a trial which will decide where, when and how long he will be in jail or prison. Prison is almost always a longer sentence and for more serious offenses. There is a very high recidivism (repeat offender) rate, generally accepted to be around 78%. That is an incredibly large number of men who have been and continue to be in and out of the system.  There are so many stories of success and recovery that seem to be invisible to most of us, since the headlines constantly bombard us with the evil, the failures and the dangers. But there is tenderness, kindness, hope and courage inside the jails, as well. This site will attempt to show you the very diverse colors of the incarcerated.

I hope to introduce you an ever-growing list of multiple offenders who have, one day at a time, stopped their cycle and re-entered society as positive and strong participants in a life many of us take for granted for its ordinariness. There is nothing ordinary about the challenges and the strength these men face and show. There is nothing ordinary about the amazing blessings they each have brought to my life as they honor me by allowing me to walk through doorways they thought held no hope for them.  I will try to do justice to the many incredible men with whom I began relationships in a small office in a dark jail. Addiction plays an overwhelmingly high part in whatever crimes they committed and, no, I do not live in a fantasy land where all is good and wonderful.  There are very difficult and dangerous citizens inside my work world. But it would be totally wrong to look at these men, in their prison uniforms, as a sea of ‘inmates’ who are hopeless and destined to fail.

They each have powerful stories to tell. I hope to give you all a different picture than the one, perhaps, you have right now.  Many can succeed. ALL need help in finding that door and learning what to do when and if they walk through it into the sunshine.

There was a television series a few years ago called “The Naked City.”  My life with these men is like the theme from that show: “There are 8 million stories in the Naked City. This is just one of them.”