We Must Speak Out against ALL Terrorism (Even When It Hurts)

Natalie Darwin brought this article from yesterday's New York Times (Israeli Terrorists, Born the USA) to my attention. Just like many stories we see in the headlines, she hoped it wasn't true.

Sadly, regarding some American Jews living in Israel, I believe it is.

I lived in Israel and was there the Purim that Baruch Goldstein opened fire on innocent Arabs.  That year, I had a large beard and looked American.  Every time I went into the Mashbir (the big department store in downtown Jerusalem) and other stores, the security guards would look at me and ask if I was carrying a gun - as many of the settlers did and still do.

Don't get me wrong, there are many American (and other nationality) Jews living beyond the green line, in territory captured by Israel in 1967, who are good people - and would never dream of carrying out a "price tag" attack.  Yet, even in those communities, even twenty years ago, I heard the demonization of the Arab population; the children taught to think of their neighbors as "other", not quite the same, dangerous.

There are those who move to this Israeli frontier with the goal of making the land a permanent part of Israel, and to whom the current inhabitants are an infestation, and who need to be encouraged (however strongly) to leave.

We cannot stand silent when such violent acts are perpetrated by others in our name.  We cannot allow Judaism - the religion and culture that we hold dear - to be used as an excuse to attack others, to terrorize, to burn families out of their homes.

This is not Judaism.  I stand with the President of Israel, Reuven Rivlin.  These are crimes, and those who carry out these actions are terrorists - and should be treated in the same way that the state of Israel treats all terrorists (and if that leads to a re-examination of those policies, so much the better).

The path to peace and safety for all is not through violence and escalation.  We should be ashamed of this New York Times Op-Ed - because it had to be said, and we should be loud in our denunciation of such acts as well.

An Opportunity to Pray with Your Feet

[E-mailed to Temple Sholom members on 7/31/15]

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, the modern American Jewish prophet, famously said of his time spent on the Voting Rights March in Selma, Alabama, in 1965, that "I felt my legs were praying."  We pray a lot in the synagogue, sitting and standing, but perhaps we do not take enough time to walk the walk; to pray with our feet.

Along with (at latest count) 150 other Reform Rabbis, I have been asked to participate as part of the Reform Movement's contingent in the NAACP's America's Journey for Justice March which begins tomorrow, August 1st, in Selma, Alabama.  Over 40 days (a number which has great resonance for us as Jews), this march will continue to Washington, DC, where it will conclude with a rally on September 16th.  I, along with Rabbi David Levy from Temple Shalom in Succasunna, and Rabbi Tom Alpert of Temple Eitz Chayim in Franklin, MA will be carrying a Torah scroll (which is making the entire journey) on Friday, August 21st. 

I invite you to join me.  I hope to travel down to Greenville, South Carolina on Wednesday, August 19th, to join the state rally at noon on Thursday, August 20th.  I will march on Friday, August 21st, and celebrate Shabbat with the Greenville community - leaving either Saturday evening or Sunday morning.  If we get enough people, we will rent or borrow a van to drive down together.  Local worship communities have offered free floor space, or there are rooms that can be reserved at local hotels.

Sunday, August 16th begins the Jewish month of Elul, the last month before Rosh haShanah.  Traditionally, we, as Jews, are asked to examine our conduct in the past year as we begin our journey to repentance.  What better way to prepare for the High HolyDays than standing up and walking forward to make our country a better place for all its citizens?  What better way to fulfill the prophetic calling of Isaiah that we read on Yom Kippur, than to work to build civil rights protections for everyone?

If you are interested in joining me for this historic journey, please let me know, and register on the link through the Reform movement. If you cannot join us, but would like to contribute to our effort - please make a designated donation to the Temple Sholom Rabbi's Discretionary Fund, which I'll use to defray the costs.  You can also support the march as a whole through the NAACP site.  

Thousands of years ago, Jewish tradition teaches us that we all marched together to Mount Sinai.  Every Jew who ever was or will be shared in that moment.  There have been many moments since then, when Jews have stood together - with each other, or with other communities in solidarity and shared belief.  This is one of those moments and your presence counts.  

On the front of our building, we have placed the words that God has given us as a challenge to live in our daily lives - Create Justice, Love Mercy, Humbly Follow Your God.  The word "follow" can also be translated as "walk in (God's) path" - let us walk this path together.

A Lamentation and a Journey

עַל אֵלֶּה | אֲנִי בוֹכִיָּה עֵינִי | עֵינִי יֹרְדָה מַּיִם כִּי רָחַק מִמֶּנִּי מְנַחֵם מֵשִׁיב נַפְשִׁי הָיוּ בָנַי שׁוֹמֵמִים כִּי גָבַר אוֹיֵב: פֵּרְשָׂה צִיּוֹן בְּיָדֶיהָ אֵין מְנַחֵם לָהּ

For these things, I cry out.  My eye, my eye pours down water, because the comfort that would restore my soul is far from me. My children are desolate, because the enemy has prevailed. Zion spreads open hands, but she has no comfort. Lamentations 1:16-17a

Churches are burning again in the United States, and I am swept back two decades.

It was June of 1996 and I had just arrived back on the East Coast and was trying to integrate into my community at Hebrew Union College in New York.  I received a note from Rabbi Nancy Weiner, one of the faculty at HUC, who invited anyone who was interested to travel with her and some other student volunteers to Boligee, Alabama.  There, working out of a Quaker Workcamp, we would volunteer for a week to help re-build some of the churches burned in a wave of hate-filled arson that had swept through black churches in the South.

The experience was transformative.  Travelling with cantorial and rabbinic students, I felt proud that this could be my job - to travel with my congregants to place ourselves and our hands in service of others in need. The hospitality was humbling. The church women refused to let us bring our own food the jobsite - they insisted on cooking for us, every day.  They said it was the least that they could do.

I felt good about the spackling and sanding that I was doing, but I did not quite understand until Tisha b’Av.  Named after the date at which we are told that the Babylonians destroyed the first Temple in Jerusalem in 586 BCE and the Romans burned the second Temple in 70 CE, it is the only other full day of fasting and mourning in the Jewish tradition, besides Yom Kippur.  As a Reform Jew, the holiday had been of historical interest to me, but I failed to grasp the visceral impact of losing one’s house of worship - until our group decided to hold our Tisha b’Av commemoration at the former site of the church we had come to rebuild.

These churches were small - hardly more than a central room for worship, an office, and a kitchen.  We stood on the blackened ground of the sanctuary and, as the sun set, were surrounded by the grave markers of at least a century of parishioners.  These local churches were small in population as well - only a few families, who had been members for generations, whose families were buried surrounding their worship home.  The law did not allow this community to build in what had become a cemetery, and so their new house of worship - although strong and clean, would stand alone several miles down the road, without the presence of loved ones.

For me, that was when it hit home.  I thought about how I had felt when I lost the synagogue that I grew up in - the loss of a place to come home to at the High HolyDays; the place that I had known I would see the same faces (a little older), in the same seats.  But, that Temple still exists, I was just no longer a member.  How much more the loss by our ancestors, with no place to travel to at each pilgrimage holiday, no direction to turn when praying, no high hill to stand on and look out over the capital, the graves of ancestors, the history of generations, the promise of a people.

Three years later, in my first year at my present congregation, we learned of a fire set at a friend’s congregation.  That Tisha b’Av, I asked each congregant to find a place in our building where they had a special memory.  We travelled from room to room, picking up people and hearing their stories, building a mental map of our Temple.  Finally, we each made a fabric square, illustrating and completing the phrase, “A Temple is a House of....”, which were sewn together into a quilt which we sent to Congregation B’nai Israel in Sacramento.

We see Tisha b’Av as a grand historical moment - the transition from animal sacrifice to prayer and rabbinic Judaism.  Our Reform forebears saw it as a moment to be celebrated - the beginning of our mission into the greater world, to be a light among the nations, not apart.  And yet, there is the personal sense of loss that we have forgotten: the pew no longer present; the yahrzeit plaque melted into slag; the prayerbooks scattered and burned.

In reaching out to others, I rediscovered the loss of my people.  In feeling that loss, I was able to see not only what they had lost, but what it meant to them for us to be there, just to show with our physical presence that they were not alone, not abandoned, that not everyone wanted to wipe their home of worship from the earth.

On Tisha b’Av, we read from what is called in English, Lamentations, in Hebrew, Eicha.  Eicha is a barely articulate cry - “How?”  How can this have happened?  How can I deal with this loss?  How can I face a new reality, when my rock has been shattered?  We may have no answers to this plea, but we have actions to share the burden.  We will walk from Selma to Washington, DC with the NAACP’s Journey for Justice and we will say: Tell us of your pain.  We may not be able to fully understand it, but we can listen; we can try to carry some of that weight.  We can say, we will not let someone do this to you again, without putting ourselves in their way.

Eicha - how?  How can we do anything else?

-originally posted for Rabbis Organizing Rabbis on CCAR's Ravblog

Returning to Auschwitz Again, and Leaving with Hope

Motzei Yom haShoah 5755

    It is dark now in Krakow.  The sun set while we ate our dinner after hearing the trumpeter blow the traditional peal at 7pm.  Yesterday, erev Yom haShoah, the five students in our Confirmation class, a congregant chaperone, and I held an early evening service in Birkenau - praying and reading El Malei Rachamim by Crematorium Number Two.  I have been leading this trip for sixteen years.  It is my fifteenth time taking fifteen and sixteen year olds away from their comfortable suburban New Jersey homes and dragging them on a whirlwind tour through Central Europe with three pedagogic goals - to learn about the long Jewish history of this part of Europe, to find out about the destruction of that community, and to discover the living Jewish communities of today.  To accomplish that difficult task, we tour the Jewish sites of each of our stops, some of the regular tourist sites, the Holocaust sites and memorials, and, if possible, meet with local youth to learn about their lives.  Over the years, we have traveled to Warsaw, Krakow, Prague, Bratislava, Berlin and Budapest.   In Budapest, we have built a sister congregation relationship with Szim Salom, one of the Progressive Jewish congregations there.  

    Today, encouraged by the sign outside the JCC in Krakow reading, "Stop in and say hi", we did.  We were also amused by the sign that said, "Hey, March of the Living! Come inside and see Jewish LIFE."  The sign is a tongue in cheek prod to the thousand of Jews traveling this week through Poland, visiting all the sites of the Holocaust, on their way through a mandatory march from Auschwitz to Birkenau on Yom haShoah (Holocaust Remembrance Day), to culminate in celebrating Yom haAtzma'ut (Israeli Independence Day) together in Israel.  We met with the American born director of the JCC, Jonathan Ornstein, who told us that there is some frustration on the part of the Jews of Poland that March of the Living focusses on former Jewish life to the exclusion of present Jewish life.

    He was also quite proud to tell us that, in his eyes,  Krakow is the safest place to be Jewish in all of Europe.  The JCC of Krakow has no guards.  There is no password.  No membership card is required.  The door is wide open to anyone who wants to walk in.  There is no other Jewish institution, he told us, that is as open and free to enter as this one, which he called the JCC next door to Auschwitz.  The JCC is the most open in another important way as well - anyone who wants to affiliate is welcome, no matter how tenuous their status.  In Poland, like in Hungary and the Czech Republic a few decades before, young Poles are discovering that they have Jewish connections - a grandparent who was Jewish.  All the Jews of Poland - ALL the Jews of Poland - are survivors, or the children or grandchildren of survivors of the Holocaust and, on top of that, survivors of the secularization of Communism.  

    The main square of Kazimierz, the Jewish section of Krakow near where the JCC is located, is filled with Jewish themed restaurants.  In these locations, not run by Jews, not kosher, you can get "Jewish-style" food, surrounded, sometimes, by pictures of Jewish families and Judaica (or in one odd case, by the stuffed heads of game animals).  The entertainment is always Klezmer music, which is hugely popular in Krakow.  There are many Klezmer groups, but most are not Jews.  A few years ago, I decided to stop patronizing such restaurants, appalled by imagining where the photos and Judaica had come from; haunted by thoughts of what might have happened to former owners.  I asked Jonathan about the restaurants.  He said, that yes, they are like Epcot Judaism and that they might be tragic, if they were not surrounded by a revival of actual Jewish life, and of how they often served as a gateway for the large Krakow student population beginning to explore the possibility of a Jewish connection.  Two blocks away, with bright paint, inviting posters of hip events, and a sign that says, "Stop in and say hi" is the JCC of Krakow.

    Jonathan said that the way that the JCC commemorates Yom haShoah is to remain open and run their regular programming.  The best answer the Jews of Krakow have to the Holocaust is to live Jewish lives, and to make that as growingly ordinary a phenomenom in Poland as they can.

    Kol hakavod.  We were touched to have been welcomed inside, for the director to have come down and shared his vision with us, to have met the staff.  What, then, could we do but join ourselves?  Temple Sholom is now an overseas member of the JCC of Krakow.  We joined right there, in the lobby, on Yom haShoah, and helped to mark this day of mourning by lighting not a yahrzeit candle, but another flame of hope. What a gift, to be able to leave this evening, not only in sadness, but with hope as well.  We will be back again - and, whether with adults next year or Confirmation students the year after.  We will say the Kaddish at Birkenau, and we will rekindle our hope with a stop at the JCC in Krakow.

Stam Ish - I'm Just One Ordinary Person

Recently, I have imagined myself living in the nexus of a multi-generational debate over an interpretation of a passage in the Torah.  My teacher at HUC in Israel, Rabbi Ben Hollander (z’l), brought us the text of a pivotal moment in the Joseph story.  Joseph is sent by his father to seek the welfare of his brothers, who are off with the flocks.  Joseph arrives in Shechem and they are nowhere to be seen.  A helpful stranger asks Joseph what he seeks and, hearing he seeks the missing brothers, reveals that he has overheard that they have moved on to Dotan. (Gen. 37:12-17)  Without this stranger, who happens to be in just the right place at just the right time, Joseph would not find his brothers; they would not cast him in a pit; he would not be sold to slavery in Egypt and therefore not be able to save his family during the famine, nor set the events in motion that result in the Exodus, and thence the Israelite people standing at Mount Sinai - all because of this one man.  Early in Jewish history, the Targum (translation) Onkelos translates the Hebrew of the Torah text (which says ish or “a man”) as the angel Gabriel disguised as a man.  A thousand years later, the great Torah commentator Rashi agrees with this interpretation.  Such an event could not have been left to chance; the angel whose role was to protect the Jewish people stepped in to direct the course of history.  But, as Ben Hollander showed us (in my favorite commentary on a Torah text), Rashi’s contemporary Ibn Ezra says, stam ish “it’s just a person”.  At the time, I was impressed by ibn Ezra’s rationalism: Just read the text as it is written.  If the Torah says it’s a person, then it’s a person.  

A few weeks ago, a small group of rabbis attempting to form a New Jersey division of Rabbis Organizing Rabbis, met with a family in need of help.  Catalino Guerrero had lived and worked in the United States since the 1980’s.  Early on, he unknowingly received some bad legal advice and was unable to regularize his status, though he worked and paid taxes.  Now older and with children and grandchildren, he is ill and the United States has been attempting to persuade him to voluntarily return to Mexico, leaving his home and family.  With help from a local group from the national community organizing group PICO, he was trying to receive a new stay of removal to avoid being deported the following week.  We were asked to call the New Jersey office of ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) and let them know that we knew about Catalino’s plight and that he had community support.  The next day, several of us called and left messages or spoke to a helpful officer in the department.  However, Catalino still had an appointment early that Monday morning, and, late Sunday evening, we were asked to show our support by attending that meeting with him and his family.  I was conflicted and would probably not have gone, had my wife not, serendipitously, been watching a social justice video created by my colleague, Rabbi Rob Nosanchuk and his congregation, Anshe Chesed Fairmount Temple in Cleveland.

So, I went. There was a small press conference.  Catalino spoke, as did his daughter, and representatives of other organizations.  Later I went in with Catalino and hand delivered a letter from the NJ-ROR rabbis to the helpful ICE officer.  Although I was told that my presence, as a rabbi, made a great difference, I felt that I had been more helpful by providing a chair for Catalino when he needed to sit, than that I influenced a vast government bureaucracy.  In the end, there was good news for Catalino and his family - he received a one year stay.  Since then colleagues have told me what a hero I am, and how great that I spent a few hours in the heat in Newark, but, I say, stam ish. I’m just one person, and I’m not sure that I did so much.  Joseph - or in this case, Catalino - is the real hero.  I’m just an extra in this scene.

Since then, however, I have been thinking.  I still do not know whether my presence, or the phone calls and letters of my colleagues, made a difference, or whether the facts of Catalino’s story would have led to the same result.  Much as others may think (and we may secretly wish) there is no powerful “rabbi card” that one can play to suddenly redirect the forces of the US government.  When I first read Ibn Ezra’s commentary, I thought it was a tour de force of rationalism; an argument not to mistake coincidence for Divine intervention.  Further reflection has changed my interpretation of what Ibn Ezra might have been teaching.  Lawrence Kushner (in Honey from the Rock) imagines that each of us carries not only the pieces of our own puzzle, but, unknowingly, the pieces needed for others’ as well.  In that chance encounter when we provide that piece, we are “a messenger of the Most High”.  What I learn from Ibn Ezra is that each of us, normal human beings, may be going about our own business, and, yet, unknowingly be the catalysts in the stories of others.  I hope that we were able to help Catalino Guerrero and his family.  I know that our presence made a difference to him, personally - and that is enough.  I do not need to play a greater, more heroic role.  Stam ish - I’m just one person.  So are you.  Maybe that is all that is needed.

haTikvah - Don't Lose the Hope!

A member of the congregation challenged me to read this OpEd by Antony Lerman in the New York Times Sunday Review.  I was telling her that I thought her views on Israel were probably very close the mainstream of the congregation.  She said that she had read this article and had felt great sympathy with its point of view and therefore was probably out of step with our suburban New Jersey Reform congregation.  I replied that while some of the more outspoken members of our congregation were probably farther to the right on Israel, there was a large group who felt confused, alienated, and afraid to speak or even think about Israel at such turbulent times.

I agree with Mr. Lerman through much of this piece. I think the liberal Zionist voice is caught as the public voice of Israel becomes more restrictive, as recent polls show that Israeli children are sounding racist (mainly, I would opine, because they no longer encounter Arabs in their daily lives), as the reality of terrorism and reaction erodes the possibility of the emergence of moderate Palestinians. He says:

Liberal Zionists must now face the reality that the dissenters have recognized for years: A de facto single state already exists; in it, rights for Jews are guaranteed while rights for Palestinians are curtailed. Since liberal Zionists can’t countenance anything but two states, this situation leaves them high and dry.

But, I disagree with his defeatism and that the idea of a two-state solution is gone for all time. Perhaps it reflects the eternal optimism of the liberal, but I am not yet at Mr. Lerman's state of hopelessness. I do believe Israel can be not only a state of Jews, but a Jewish state, reflecting Jewish values about treating the stranger among you as the citizen.

I am fearful, however, of the weakening of the Israeli-Diaspora connection and nod as Mr. Lerman (and, as often, Peter Beinart) state:

Today, neither the destruction wreaked in Gaza nor the disgraceful antics of the anti-democratic forces that are setting Israel’s political agenda have produced a decisive shift in Jewish Diaspora opinion. 

I agree that the current situation actually pushes us further apart, rather than closer together.  Fear is a temporary glue.

He concludes with a message that I do find hopeful:

In the repressive one-state reality of today’s Israel, which Mr. Netanyahu clearly wishes to make permanent, we need a joint Israeli-Palestinian movement to attain those rights and the full equality they imply. Only such a movement can lay the groundwork for the necessary compromises that will allow the two peoples’ national cultures to flourish.

While I join in his hope for the like-minded of both sides to come together, I do not agree with his next statement:

This aspiration is incompatible with liberal Zionism.

I hope it isn't.  I hope there is still a place for liberal Zionism.  Herzl, who held together the largest open tent of Zionists in history in order to build the dream of the land of Israel, would have had it so.  Im tirtzu, ein zo agadah. If this is something we truly desire, then it will not remain a fantasy.

Israel - What I Know and Don't Know - with credit to Rabbi Donniel Hartman

Other than from the bimah at services, or when people have asked directly, I have not made any public statements about the current situation in Israel, but I have come to the conclusion that sharing my thoughts may help members of the congregation, who are also concerned, to validate that there are others who are disturbed, concerned, confused, etc., about what is going in Israel, the land that we also call our homeland, for which we carry love and bear some responsibility.

There have been many worthwhile articles and commentary around the regular and social media.  One of the people whose words I often turn to is Rabbi Donniel Hartman, of the Sholom Hartmann Institute (You may remember that I often quote his analysis of Israeli/Diaspora relationships.)  His latest column in the Times of Israel is another attempt to take a step away from the rhetoric and focus on the reality of the situation and the long-term moral effects of the actions that are taken out of necessity.

In commenting on Rabbi Hartman's editorial, I would also like to share what I know, and what I do not.

I know that it is difficult for us as American Jews to connect to what is going on one-third of the way across the planet, even if we mention that tiny nation as our homeland at every religious service.  It is difficult for us to understand what it means to live in a nation long surrounded by enemies pledged to erase it from the map, and yet still strive to have peace, not only with the nascent nation of Palestine, but with the individual Arabs who are neighbors.  I do not know the moral impact of wanting to live in peace, but having to not only train, but to engage in war - both hot and tepid.

I do know some of the frustration felt by Jews in Israel and around the world when Israel is expected to live up to a standard of behavior which no other nation on earth, except occasionally the United States, is expected to achieve.  I know this because I, too, expect Israel, my homeland, the light among the nations, to be a standard bearer for all I believe that Judaism teaches is right and just.  I cringe when I see an image of innnocents killed or wounded and comparison is made to out of context quotations of the Torah.

I know the frustration of listening to the media when the Palestinian spokesman says that all that needs to happen is for Israel to end the occupation, and the BBC reporter does not follow up by pointing out that Israel ended the occupation of Gaza, removed all troops, and every Israeli citizen, and the Palestinians not only failed to give credit but, more tragically, failed to take advantage and begin to build a strong, independent, and viable state.  I do not know what can be done to encourage Palestinians to find cooperative economic solutions, rather than those which are violent and self-destructive.

I know that Israel needs to destroy the tunnels which we have discovered were the result of all the cement that the world insisted Israel allow into Gaza to build schools and hospitals.  I do not know who will step in to build those desperately needed schools and hospitals.

I know there are times when Israel is wrong and there are times when the Palestinians are right.  Those times may not coincide, but no one has a monopoly on good conduct, and no one is correct all the time.  And I believe, strongly, that humanity is not evil, and there is no group that does not have at least the redeeming feature of trying to make a good life for itself and its children.

Finally, I know that it is easiest for us Americans and American Jews to shut our eyes and ears to what happens in Gaza, in Syria, in the Ukraine, in the Sudan, in Kenya, in China, and around the world, because we cannot imagine that we can help.  I know that is not true.  And, even if I don't know what the solution is, I know that our caring and our action might not only make a positive contribution in those places, but that it is necessary for us, if we would call ourselves human beings.

Hillel said, "B'makom she'ein anashim, histader l'hihiyot ish."  This is usually translated as "In a place where no one is acting humanely, try to be humane."  I would rather read this in a way that does not exhort us to be like Noah - only relatively good in our generation, and to dehumanize those who surround us, but rather - "In a place where no one is acting humanely, strive to bring humanity."  Let as act to our ideals not to be better than others, but to help us all better ourselves.

I know this is a difficult time.  I know that in difficult times, we are called to do more. I do not know how else to ask.

Mannequin Judaism

Thank you to Lucy Taub for bringing this exhibit to my attention - through this article  (I also read this article from the JTA newsfeed from Salon.com.)

Briefly, the Jewish Museum in Berlin (also known as the Liebeskind Museum, after the architect who designed it) has set up a temporary exhibit (through September 1, 2013), in which volunteers, who are Jewish, are asked to sit in a three-sided plastic box for two hours to answer questions from museum patrons.  The display is part of a larger exhibit called "THE WHOLE TRUTH... everything you always wanted to know about Jews".

As I said to Lucy, Berlin is an edgy place, and this kind of in your face exhibit is not a surprise.  The museum itself, and its striking architecture, are a physical symbol of how Berlin has chosen to confront its past, and think about its Jewish community.

I take the Confirmation class to Berlin (and will be at the Museum next Tuesday, where I will see the exhibit) to not only see the location of Nazi capital, but also to learn about its Reform tradition, the current Jewish population, as well as to experience how Germans today relate to their Jewish history.  Most of the Germans we meet are affiliated with tourism, so the population is a bit skewed.  Our non-Jewish German guides have talked about what happened to the "German Jews" - identifying them as fellow citizens.  This commonality is different from what we have seen in Poland, where Pole and Jew are still seen as different nationality.  Our Jewish guide last year thought it was much better to be Jewish in Germany, where anti-Semitism is illegal, than to live in the United States, where anyone can say anything about anyone.

Finally (until I see the exhibit next week), I think this exhibit brings into focus one of the issues that challenges our students on the trip.  In the Jewish museum in Krakow (Kazimierz, acutally), there used to be a mannequin dressed in a black coat and streimel - a typical Jew.  It strikes me that Jews have become a diorama - you can't see a real Jew, but here's what they used to look like.  I saw the parallel when we visited the local museum in Michelle's home town of Yreka, CA and saw the diorama of the native Americans and wondered how the tribe living on the reservation just outside of town felt about their historic preservation.  It is uncomfortably like the Nazi idea of creating a museum to the lost race in Prague.

Perhaps by bringing the ideal of museum Jewry into contrast with real, living German Jews, this exhibit will bring us out of the box.

Women Rabbis - Who Needs to Be Comfortable?

Thank you to Marc Leibowitz for bringing to my attention this exchange on the Atlantic blog, following up on an Op-Ed in the Washington Post about how we view women clergy.

I will add my limited wisdom here:

First of all, on the other side, I cannot tell you how many times (with different congregations), I have heard the story of the religious school child who asked the question, "Boys can grow up to be rabbis, too?".  

I am only too grateful for the pioneering women who became rabbis, paving the way for a more gender inclusive Judaism, as well as chevre for me as a Reform Rabbi.  While there are still many things that still need to be fixed (pay equity, for one), there is no way that I could enumerate all the benefits of having Rabbi Regina Jonas (z'l), Rabbi Sally Preisand, and my friends Rabbi Shira Stern, Rabbi Julie Wolkoff, and Rabbi Sue Levi-Elwell (to name just a few) to pave the way so that I could have so many female rabbis as mentors, models, and colleagues.

I will add that I am not one who fears the "feminization of the rabbinate" or feels the need for men to recapture Jewish ritual, the bimah, or the leadership of the Reform movement (still overwhelmingly led by men). 

Comortable? After all, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel (supposedly) said that is a rabbi's job to  “comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable".

HaKotel, The Western Wall

Dear Prime Minister Netanyahu,

I regularly subscribe to the Israeli Ministry of Foreign Affairs webblast, and so I read with interest the Cabinet Communique from yesterday  morning (16 December 2012).  The headline quoted you as follows:

PM Netanyahu: The Western Wall symbolizes the foundation of our existence here for thousands of years. We will stand steadfast in the face of all those who want to expel us from here. The State of Israel, Jerusalem and the Western Wall will remain ours forever.

In this hope and commitment, I agree with you one-hundred percent.  Yet, I find it ironic that you made this statement about lighting a menorah at the Western Wall (haKotel), in the very same week that a new ordinance has prohibited women from bringing ritual objects to that site.  Golda Meir, or any other future female Israeli PM, would be unable to complete that same action, according to the latest regulation.

When I read your statement, I would like to interpret the "we" to include not only myself - a male, but also my colleague, Rabbi Elyse Frishman, who was detained (along with three other women) at the Kotel on this past Friday for attempting to pray with Nashot haKotel on Rosh Chodesh Tevet. (http://www.jta.org/news/article/2012/12/16/3114626/women-detained-at-western-wall-for-entering-with-prayer-shawls)

Rabbi Frishman shared a powerful statement with her congregation, which you may not be aware of (http://www.arza.org/Articles/index.cfm?id=2456) and which I am sharing with my congregation, along with this letter.

Please know, Prime Minister, that my congregation is a strong supporter of the State of Israel, and an equally strong supporter of the rights of ALL Jews to feel at home in our homeland.  We, too, "will stand steadfast in the face of all those who want to expel us from here" and we hope that we will all be able to stand that way together, in person, and soon.

Thank you, and Chodesh Tov,

Rabbi Joel N. Abraham

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Rabbi Joel N. Abraham
Temple Sholom of Scotch Plains/Fanwood, NJ
(908) 889-4900

"The more Torah, the more life" - Hillel

Temple Sholom of Scotch Plains/Fanwood, NJ - 8th Grade - L'Atid Lavo Future of Reform Judaism Resolution 2011

We, the next generation of Reform Judaism, in order to build upon our current religious practices realize that we must take the old and turn it into something new and relevant while keeping the general values and ideas of the Reform movement alive.

For our services, we agree we should keep Hebrew due to the overall connection to other Jews and lack of direct translation. But we should incorporate the vernacular language so everyone fully understands our prayers.

As long as our congregation engages in the words of Torah, it doesn't matter how we engage as long as we do because Torah brings forth many of our morals. We support Torah forever being translated differently.

Mitzvot are always going to be a part of Jewish life. As times change, so do mitzvot. As Jews, we feel that it is important to carry on the tradition of mitzvot.

THEREFORE:

We commit ourselves to continuing our Jewish education.

We are committed to educating younger generations on the traditions and values of Judaism as a whole.

We are committed to using Jewish morals in our everyday lives to set an example for all others to follow.

We are committed to looking for as many mitzvot in our daily lives as possible no matter how big or small.

signed this 18 of December 2011, in class assembled, while participating long-distance in the URJ Biennial plenary:

Ethan Lyte
Jordan Cooke
Tori Sciara
Elizabeth Smith
Isaac Amador
Harry Wachtel
Zachary Fechtner
Cassandra Teschner
Jamie Abar
Dylan Abar
Sydney Brown
Matthew Baker
Eva Isaacs
Alex Frier

Is there a difference between empowerment and DIY Judaism?

I want to, with 3 cautions, recommend an article by Jay Michaelson in the Jewish Daily Forward ("Don't Call the Rabbi, Make Your Own Rituals" - 9/8/11).  Reform Judaism is based on the idea of informed choice - so the more that you are empowered and educated in your own Judaism the better.   I am proud that we are studying the lifecycle throughout the congregation for this trimester, and the evidence of understanding for our Sunday program students will be to create a lifecycle ritual together as a class.

The first caution is - PLEASE call the Rabbi.  Ask any couple or family with whom I have created a lifecycle ritual.  We work together to create appropriate and meaningful Jewish rituals.  The first thing that I assign is homework - so that we are all on the same page and using the same terminology.  Then we talk about what they would want or need and I make suggestions, based on my experience. I also have certain requirements for my participation - based on my own religious standards and practice.

The second caution is - about most Rabbis the author knows "dreading heading off to another lifecyle event".  I don't think I know him, but, as you hopefully have heard me say on many occasions, that is why I am in this job.  Not that I am happy to have to officiate at funerals, but I appreciate that death is part of our lifecycle and am fulfilled by my part in being able to be there for a family whom I know and can help.  One of my greatest joys this year is that I was able to officiate at the wedding of child of the congregation at whose Bar Mitzvah and Confirmation, I also officiated.  This spring, I look forward to officiating when one of the first children whom I welcomed (with her family) in the covenant with B'rit Bat will become Bat Mitzvah.

Final caution - and most important - the downside of Do-It-Yourself Judaism, as opposed to empowered Judaism is the possible loss of community.  There are parts of Judaism that you can do by yourself - struggle with the Divine, engage in self-reflection, seek challenge to make the world a better place, even pray.  However, there are many parts that can only be done in community - whether it is the family community where you make Shabbat or create a seder, or the congregational community which celebrates with you and, ideally, serves to comfort you in sorrow.  Even if we don't literally count the minyan in Reform Judaism, we still acknowledge the value of meeting regularly as a community to pray together.

 - and, an invitation - Study with us so you, too, can empower your own Judaism.  If you want to study on your own - great.  I am happy to recommend resources and to meet with you, if you want, to discuss them.  But, Pirke Avot tells us to, in study, to find ourselves a chaver - a friend, or comrade to study with us.  Judaism has  always said that the byplay and interaction as two study together is not only better for the learners, but also brings in the Divine Presence.  Shameless plug - we also have plenty of opportunities for you to study with others in our Eitz Chayim program.

DIY?  OK.  But doing it with your community has its benefits too.

Haimishe - It's All the Rage

TS President Susan Sedwin pointed out this column from the New York Times ("The Haimish Line" by David Brooks - 8/30/11).

To take a moment for some self-congratulatory back-patting - we've known all about being haimishe for years.

That's What Jewish Looks Like

Also this past Shabbat, thank you to congregant Rita Ferraro for bringing me a copy of the New York Times Article on B'chol Lashon's summer camp (August 12, 2011, "Prayer, and Bug Juice, at a Summer Camp for Jews of Color" by Samuel G. Freedman).  A few of my colleagues  on faculty at URJ Eisner Camp had brought it up as well last week.  The camp is run by Bechol Lashon, an organization that is trying to publicize a fact we tend to forget, not all Jews look the same.

When I was growing up, every Jew was Ashkenazi (descended from Jews living in Eastern and Central Europe). Everyone had relatives that came from Russia or Poland, with maybe a few strange ones (like myself) with a great-grandparent or two of German descent.  That made it easy to tell the Jews - they looked similar and they all had names that sounded the same.  I was very surprised to discover, as I got older, that not only were Sephardim (Jews who trace themselves back to the 1492 Expulsion from Spain - later settling in Italy, Turkey, Amsterdam, and other far-flung places) the first and largest population of Jews in North America until the 19th century, but that there were still Sephardic Jews and even Sephardic congregations in the US.  Now, of course, with Jews marrying people with all different ethnic backgrounds, you can no longer tell who is Jewish by last name or by hair color (if you ever could).  Add to that the prevalence of Jewish overseas adoptions and we have a stereotype that we need to overcome.  Sometimes Jews can feel like they are "of color" even in their own synagogue.  Be'chol Lashon (which means "in every tongue/language") exists to overturn that stereotype and, equally as important, provide a place where Jews who might look different find a supportive community.  Hence their camp.

The rest of the job is up to us.  Kol hakavod to Be'chol Lashon for coming to fill this need.  Now we need to make Jews of every ancestry, accent, background, color (or sexual orientation) feel that they are just as welcome as anyone else.

Where Do Jews Have It the Worst?

Ellen Wolff sent me Roger Cohen's latest Op-Ed in the New York Times (August 20, 2011), entitled "Jews in a Whisper".  The piece is interesting - a reflection via Philip Roth's Deception on the latent anti-Semitism still prevalent in Great Britain.  I would argue that current anti-Israel sentiment in Great Britain may be a product of former prejudices, but it has a new virulence all its own - but that's for another day.  What intrigues me is a comparison of Cohen's article from 2009 ("What Do Iran's Jews Say"), in which he argues that life for Jews in Iran is not so bad.  Is it worse to be Jewish in Great Britain than in Iran?  I can't think so.

Memory and the Nazi Legacy: Modern Germany from a Jewish Perspective

Take a look at this note from Andi Milens. It resonates with some of what I have seen in our trips to Germany and Poland over the last few years. The good news is that things are starting to change in Poland.

Memory and the Nazi Legacy: Modern Germany from a Jewish Perspective

We live in exciting times.... hopefully a blessing for the Reform Movement

Mazal tov and chazak v'ameitz (strength and courage) to Rabbi Rick Jacobs of Westchester Reform Temple, who was officially nominated yesterday to be the next president of the Union for Reform Judaism.  Rick is a gifted and creative rabbi - of one of the original ECE congregations; passionate for social justice - a long-time board member of the American Jewish World Service; and a visionary leader - a former board member of the Central Conference of American Rabbis and Synagogue3000.  (Not to mention his time with the Avodah Dance Ensemble)  It will not be an easy job.  I hope that he takes radical steps to re-orient the Reform movement's congregational arm to be a bottom-up, congregant-driven, and congregationally responsive organization.

On the challenges that await, Rabbi David Ellenson, president of Hebrew Union College, published an interesting Op-Ed in the Forward this week.  Here's a quote about their not being any "magic bullets" and how any solutions need to be fairly sophisticated and nuanced:

Here we must recognize that Judaism is an adult religion. We must acknowledge that the complexity and plurality that mark modern life do not allow for simple answers to multivalent and textured problems. Indeed, I harbor no illusions that there are any quick fixes to the problems that confront North American Judaism.

Chazak, chazak, v'nitchazeik

These three words are traditionally recited when finishing the reading of one book of the Torah. "Strength, strength and may you be strengthened", as we finish one chapter of American Reform Judaism and move on to the next.

And the Jewish Vote is?

TS congregant Leslie Klieger suggested that I post a link to the new National Jewish Political Survey, which is being conducted by HUC professor Steven Windmuller.  You can follow the link above to an HUC article about the survey, which includes a link to the survey itself.

Are American Jews becoming more politically conservative?  Or are more religiously conservative Jews becoming more political?  We'll find out soon....

It Seems the Kiddush Cup is Half Empty...

Why is it that all of the press and surveys of Jewish life always seem to begin with pessimism and doom and gloom?  The Jewish Daily Forward, while a great (re)new(ed) meeting place for American Judaism, seems to be doing its best to "disrespect" all the established American Jewish institutions.  Following up on its series of comparisons of how they are more expensive than comparative Christian organizations, and gratuitous slams on rabbinic and professional salaries, this past week brought an article on the crisis in "liberal denominations". (Maybe it's just reporter Josh Nathan-Kazis.)  First of all, the article mainly talks about what the Conservative movement is DOING to reverse a trend of decreased membership.  There is mention of a group of Reform rabbis (the "RVI" - more on this some other time) who are trying to influence where the Reform movement is going, and a passing reference to the Reconstructionist movement.  Even acknowledging that the focus of the article is on the United States - and can therefore ignore the growing appeal of progressive Judaism overseas - especially in the Former Soviet Union, Europe, and Israel - it seems unfair to focus on the problems when the incidence for the story is what the movements are doing in terms of self-reflection and change.  Now, I am reserving opinion as to whether the reorganization of the URJ means the strengthening of our congregational Reform arm, but I am not ready to abandon ship before I attempt to patch the holes and turn on the bilge pumps.    It seems to me that we should focus on what are the new insights and how we are repositioning and re-imagining to meet current and future challenges.

I am sure that much more on this subject will follow...

Latest News from Congregation Or Hadash on the Fires outside Haifa

Below is a letter from Rabbi Edgar Nof, from Congregation Or-Hadash in Haifa regarding the latest on the forest fires outside of Haifa:

The fires are finally out, rebuilding begins. 

Dear Friends,

Today, Monday, Dec. 6^th, is the first day we are fully back to work in our office with all our staff.

In spite of the horrific tragedy, we are directed by Hilel’s law: “Ma’alim Ba’kodesh Ve’lo Moridim”, which means we are putting our effort to keep optimism in the air and to take this experience to a higher spiritual level.

The truth is reality is very sad and depressing. 41 people have lost their lives, there are people who are badly hurt and are fighting for their lives as we write, and most of the population in the area is experiencing major depression.

This is the worst ecologic disaster Israel has known. Around half a million trees were burnt; the animals and wild life in the area suffered severe damage, a whole community was almost wiped out ( Kibbutz Beit Oren) and others suffered considerable damage. 20,000 people were evacuated from their homes.

I would like to point out a few positive aspects as well:

1.  In the name of Or Hadash Congregation, our Executive Director Ami Perlman, our President Dr. Yuri Kligerman and myself, we would like to thank each and every one of you who called, emailed, and sent us messages of concern. We would like to thank you for your support and encouragement. We have received calls from sister congregations in America, in Europe and in Israel, including Rabbi Marmur from HUC, Rabbi Maya Lebowitz, President of MARAM, Rabbi Gilad Kariv, Executive Director of the IMPJ and many others. We are deeply grateful for your willingness to reach out, for your support and help.

2. We often feel in Israel that the world does not understand us or likes us very much. In fact, and specifically in Chanukah, the first airplanes arriving to help were Greeks. More planes arrived immediately after, from Turkey, Spain, England, Russia, Cyprus, and Bulgaria and of course from America as well. We see the fact that so many countries recruited to assist us in our distress as a very encouraging sign and we are thankful for all their help.

3. The Israeli society immediately volunteered to help our firefighting forces, the police and the military. Citizens were waiting in line to help with anything and everything needed. People opened their hearts and homes to those that have been evacuated and did not know when they’ll be able to return home or what they will find when they do. While on our day to day routine we are engaged mostly in economic problems these days, when a tragedy like this happens we are all one and the spirit of mutual responsibility for one another awakens, showing its beauty.

Or Hadash congregation would also like to thank Haifa congregations, Rabbis and members: Ohel Abraham congregation, Leo Beck Congregation and Shirat Hayam Carmel Congregation for their beautiful contribution to help those in needs.

First action we took when the fire broke out on Thursday, Dec. 2^nd was to organize an operation room along with Ami Perlman, our Executive Director and Dr. Yuri Kligerman, our President.

We contacted all our congregants and staff families to see who was evacuated and needed help.

Ami Perlman has created wonderful relationships with the Druze population in the villages of Ossafia and Daliat-el-carmel, and has invited them to stay with us in case they needed to be evacuated. We have workers who live in Tirat Carmel who were evacuated and our overseas coordinator Nofi, lives in the Druze village Ossafia and was not able to come to work.

One of our Bar Mitzvah boys is from Kibbutz Beit Oren which was partially burnt. The estimated cost of damage is around 20 million dollars. Rabbi Eric Gurvis from Temple Shalom of Newton, MA, who just celebrated his own son’s Jacob Bar Mitzvah last week, took upon himself to make the Kiddush for the boy. We would like to help the boy’s family who lost everything in the fire.  

Or Hadash and Kibbutz Beit Oren have been connected for the past 20 years in a very strong friendship. Every year on Yom Kippur I bring a Torah Book to the Kibbutz so they can pray, and often I celebrate weddings, Bar/Bat Mitzvah, baby naming ceremonies and more.

Today we are going to meet some of the people from Beit Oren who were invited to a Chanukah dinner we are hosting at Or Hadash for Rabbi Joel Soffin and a group of his students.

Our President Dr. Yuri Kligermna’s sister is working in Yamin Ord, the boarding school that was badly hit by the fire. We are in touch with the school to help them in any way possible. Shlomit Berger, our treasurer is helping organize this operation and is collecting clothes for the school’s students.

Prior to this horrific fire, we used to plant trees on a regular basis with Keren Kayemet Le’Israel. We plan on continuing planting trees once the authorities clear it is alright to reach the area and do so.

This morning we are lighting Chanukah candles with Mirjam Jurman and the patients in the rehabilitation center Nof Hagefen. Or Hadash congregants Chava Mayer, Masha Goren, Vered Ivtzan, Pnina Suchetzki and Shulamit Shahaf have joined me for the celebration. Later on we will visit Else Rigler, wife of Or Hadash past Chairman David z”l.

Although the atmosphere is far from festive this Chanukah, we continue with our planned programs and schedule. We understand that most people are not in the mood to celebrate, the air in Haifa and its surrounding is heavy with smoke and fire retardants materials. This morning we were finally blessed with a few drops of rain and we are full of hope we can get back to our busy routine within the next week to ten days.

Last night after teaching Bar/Bat Mitzvah workshop, we had a conference with the Chairman of IMPJ, Rabbi Gilad Kariv and we plan an organized assistance in cooperation, on any and all fronts needing help.

I apologize for not being able to reply to all the emails sent to us, we are grateful and we will answer each and every one.

Wishing you a Happy Chanukah and a wonderful week,

In Friendship,

Edgar

                                                                     
Rabbi Dr. Edgar Nof
Or-Hadash Congregation
55 Hantke St. P.O. Box 3711
Haifa, 31036 Israel
Tel: 972-52-361-3983
Fax: 972-4-8343907
E-mail: overseas@or-hadash.org.il
www.or-hadash-haifa.org