Showing posts with label Hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hope. Show all posts

Friday, October 4, 2024

Side by Side: Holding Multiple Truths, Rosh Hashanah Morning Sermon - 5785



 

At the very beginning of the Torah, before creation even began, the world was tohu v’vohu, complete and utter chaos.  Over the last few days, it feels as if we are living through a similar whirlwind.  I want to name the fear, the worry, and the tears that I and many of you are feeling.  May our siblings in Israel be comforted.  May they be protected by a Sukkat Shalom in this New Year. May peace come quickly to Israel, Gaza, and the entire Middle East.

Since today is the Birthday of the World, I think it’s fitting that we dig into the creation story.[i] Most know this story well, so please help me.  The world according to the Torah was created in how many days? …  Seven.  On the first day, God created light and …. Darkness.  God than divided the waters. Up above, the heavens and down below the … seas.  Afterwards, land and vegetation.  Sun, moon, and … stars.  God creates birds, fish, and animals.  God creates, men, women, people, at the same time, and shapes them B’tzelem Elohim, in the Divine Image. 

You know the story, except… there is a second creation story which is completely and totally different.  This story has no timeline; no seven days.  Creation begins not with light and darkness, but with the birth of a single human being named Adam.  Adam is lonely so God creates animals.  Adam remains lonely, so God puts Adam to sleep, takes one of his ribs, and makes Eve. 

We have two stories with completely different timelines, unique ordering of creation, and distinct views of gender.  Two stories, both in the Torah, literally side-by-side: Genesis chapter one and two.  And… they don’t seem compatible.  They don’t seem to work well together. 

As you know, there is often difference of opinion in our Jewish tradition.  There are countless biblical, rabbinic, and even current examples.  This has been especially true in our community since October 7.  Each of us, in our own way, has grieved the brutality of the Hamas attack and its aftermath.  I want to share with you two very difficult conversations that I had last November.  These meetings challenged me, and they might be hard for you to hear as well.

It was late in the afternoon when I sat down with a member of our community.  Right away, I could sense her anger.  Just weeks earlier, Israel had entered Gaza.  She was furious at Israel’s reprisal and horrified by our Jewish community’s support.  “Israel is killing innocent people, bombing hospitals and schools.  We need a ceasefire.  How can we back Israel’s actions?”

I said goodbye to her.  Not long after, a second person walked in and immediately began to cry.  She was consumed by the crisis.  She doomscrolled, late into the evening, reading about the young Israelis who were murdered at the Nova Music Festival, the women who were raped by Hamas terrorists, and the hostages who were forcibly removed from their families.  “I’m so sad,” she said.  “I can’t help it.  I just want them dead.”  

After she left, I tried to gather my thoughts.  I’ve had so many conversations this past year, but these meetings stick with me precisely because they occurred so near each other.  Two unique beliefs about the conflict, and so different from one another.  This sermon is an attempt to make sense of those conversations.  This morning, I’ll be speaking about our relationship with the Palestinians.  I know that Iran is on the minds of many of us, but that will be a topic for another sermon. 

Let’s look back at our creation stories.  How does our Jewish tradition navigate two stories in dissonance?  One answer: focus on the good parts!  You might laugh, but we do this all the time.   Take those who are more Fundamentalist in their beliefs.  They focus on the seven days of creation from the first story.  But many of them believe in a man’s role in a patriarchal society.  They lift-up the second story’s belief that Eve was created from Adam’s rib; that women are lesser than men.

You will never hear that here!  In a Reform synagogue, we lift-up the first creation story.  We believe that all of us, no matter our gender identity, were formed at the same time, B’tzelem Elohim, in the Divine Image.

This is what we do when two stories clash with each other.  We chose the truth that feels at home with our identities and our values.  We pick the narrative that makes the most sense to us, that connects to our history, and which highlights our understanding of the world.

As a Jewish community, it’s important for us to know and share our story, especially around Israel.  There are few people who tell our story with more empathy and compassion than Yossi Klein Halevi.  This summer during my sabbatical, I read his 2019 book, “Letters to My Palestinian Neighbor.”  Over the course of these ten letters, he shares the importance of Israel to Jewish consciousness, not just now, but over the course of our long history,[ii] reminds the reader that Zionism drives Jewish life today because half the Jewish people live in Israel,[iii] and shares that unlike groups like the Crusaders, Israelis are here to stay.  This is our homeland.[iv]

I was especially moved by Klein Halevi’s vulnerability.  He writes movingly about the existential challenges he faced serving in the army during the first intifada.[v]  He felt great pain as the Israeli army encountered young Arab boys throwing stones.  He didn’t shy away from the occupation and recognized the humiliation it brings to the Palestinian people.

Yossi Klein Halevi reminds us that our Jewish story, in the diaspora and in Israel, is historical, valid, and authentic.  Many of us are often so troubled by the Israeli government’s actions that we shy away from our story or limit its significance.   Our story is true.  We must not minimize our history or Israel’s right to exist.

But this is not the only story.  This summer, I also read Rashid Khalidi’s 2020 book, “The Hundred Years’ War on Palestine.”  Let me tell you, this was not an easy read.  Khalidi, a professor at Columbia University, is part of a long line of diplomats and Palestinian leaders.  In this book, Khalidi defines six different wars against his people beginning in 1917 and ending in 2014.  How challenging as a Jew and a Zionist to read history through his eyes.  I was troubled that the Balfour Declaration in 1917 as well as Israel’s Independence in 1948 were viewed as acts of war.  Most surprisingly, not one page was written about the Yom Kippur War.  I came to realize that for Khalidi the Yom Kippur War had no bearing on Palestinian history.  For him, this was a skirmish between Israel and Egypt.

These two books, by Yossi Klein Halevi and Rashid Khalidi, gave me heartache!  The Torah provides us with the wisdom that multiple stories with unique perspectives can exist together.  But still I was stuck.  I needed support from a chevrutah, a rabbinic colleague and good friend.

This summer, the two of us spent four days together delving into the Israeli – Palestinian Crisis.  We studied five books together, but spent most of our discussing, “Side by Side: Parallel Histories of Israel-Palestine” written by a group of Israeli and Palestinian academics in 2012.  Their dream was to develop a single bridging narrative about the Middle East.  Unfortunately, it was too difficult to come to consensus on the facts or the history. [vi]  Instead, they decided to write two separate histories.  The left side of the book is written by Israelis.  The right side of the book by Palestinians.  Two histories, literally side by side.

I would dive into the Jewish perspective, and it was everything that I was taught as a child and an adult.  But, when I turned to the Palestinian narrative, I was dumbfounded.  How could the same historical events be understood in a completely different manner?

Here’s just a handful of examples: In the 1920’s was it an “Arab mob” or an “Arab uprising?”[vii]  Did the Jews settle upon “abandoned land” or “confiscated land?”[viii]  Was it a War of Independence or a Nakba, a catastrophe?  Was the Six Day War in 1967 provoked by Egypt or was Israel the aggressor pining to take over more Palestinian land?[ix]  Who was at fault during the 1990’s peace process, Israel or Arafat?

It wasn’t just me who was challenged by this book.  An Israeli teacher, Rachel, who used “Side by Side” as a textbook in her classroom, summed it up this way:

“When I saw the narrative of the other side, first I was angry and frustrated at how different it was from ours.  I felt it was not based on facts but on stories and emotions.  Later, I learned to cognitively accept the difference, but still felt that our narrative was superior to theirs.  Only recently did I learn to see the logic behind their narrative and even to emotionally feel empathy to what they went through.  If this took me four years, imagine what it will take the pupils or their parents.”[x]

The writers of “Side by Side” believe that the first step in comprehending another narrative is mourning. At this moment, we are raw.  Many of us are angry and unwilling to hear a differing perspective.  This week, we commemorate the yahrtzeit of October 7.  We must mourn.  We mourn the loss of life, the terror, and the fragility of Israeli society.  As the uncertainty continues, we might be mourning for a long time to come.  It took Rachel four years. How long could it take us?

I know this will be painful, but there is work ahead for us to do.   Yossi Klein Halevi believes that the main obstacle to peace is the inability to hear each other’s stories.  That’s why he offered his book in Arabic for free downloading.[xi]  While Rashid Khalidi shares this message, “The irony is that, like all peoples, Palestinians assume that their nationalism is pure and historically rooted while denying the same of Israeli Jews.”[xii]  Mutual acceptance is the only path forward and must be based on complete equal rights and national rights.[xiii]  

As we begin this New Year, our world is tohu v’voho, complete and utter chaos.  There is real fear of a war with Iran.  We pray with all of our hearts for Israel’s safety and security.  At the same time, we must not forget that there is a land where two peoples live, with two stories, and two truths.  Even in the midst of a larger Middle East conflict, even as we sit in sorrow and anger, we must be willing to inch towards peace with the Palestinian people.  Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday soon.

May we learn from Israeli and Palestinian authors.  May we talk to those who differ in their perspective from us.  May we share our story and feel proud and confident in our narrative.  May we do our best to hold multiple truths.  May we always work to write a new story of hope, peace, and mutual understanding.  A story of two states, Jewish and Arab, Israel and Palestine.  A story where the hostages come home, where children can be safe, and laughter can be heard in the streets of Tel Aviv and Gaza City. Ken Yehi Ratzon.  May it be so, Amen.



[i] In appreciation to Rabbi Marci Jacobs, whose essay in “Am Yisrael Chai: Essays, Poems, and Prayers,” edited by Rabbi Menachem Creditor, pp. 266-274, helped center the story of creation as one of the centering texts of this sermon.  Her beautiful essay guides the reader through narratives that are in conflict with one another.

[ii] “Letter to My Palestinian Neighbor,” by Yossi Klein Halevi, p 34

[iii] “Letters,” p. 43

[iv] “Letters,” p. 69

[v] “Letters,” p. 108-109

[vi] “Side by Side Parallel Histories of Israel-Palestine,” edited by Sami Adwan, Dan Bar-On, Eyal Naveh, and Peace and Research Institute in the Middle East (Prime), p. X

[vii] “Side by Side,” pp. 32-33

[viii] “Side by Side,” pp. 51

[ix] “Side by Side,” p. 191

[x] “Side by Side,” p. xiv

[xi] “Letters,” p. xi

[xii] The Hundred Years’ War on Palestine: A History of Settler Colonialism and Resistance, 1917-2017,” by Rashid Khalidi, p. 246

[xiii] “The Hundred Years’ War on Palestine,”  pp. 245-246

King Solomon's Ring - Erev Rosh Hashanah Sermon - 5785


 

Long ago,[i] lived one of our greatest rulers, the wise and mighty King Solomon.  King Solomon over the course of his lifetime, built the Temple in Jerusalem, established peace in Israel, and brought prosperity to the Jewish people.  However, as King Solomon became older and his time on earth more fleeting, he became deeply depressed.  The king was filled with great sorrow and sadness. 

The king called upon all those in the land who could lift his spirits and provide him with encouragement.  His doctors prescribed the greatest medicines of the day, but nothing seemed to work.  His jesters wore funny outfits and told outrageous jokes, but the King wouldn’t even crack a smile.  Finally, after many months, just as spring was approaching, the King called upon his most devoted Minister, Benaiah, captain of the guard, for his help.

Over the course of many decades together, Benaiah had saved the king’s life multiple times, stood side-by-side with the king during their fiercest battles, and never, ever, failed at any task that the king had asked him to complete. 

“Benaiah”

“Yes, your Majesty”

“I have a request that only you can accomplish.  I have heard that there is a magical ring that can provide me with comfort and lift my spirits.  I humbly ask that you find this ring for me.  I know that it might be difficult, so I give you six months to find it.  I hope to wear it on Rosh Hashanah, so it will be a Happy New Year for me.”

“Of course, your Majesty.  Tell me more about this ring!”

“Benaiah, I have heard that this ring has magical powers.  When a happy person looks at the ring, they become sad.  But when mournful person, like me, looks at the ring, they immediately become comforted.”

“Your majesty, I am on it.  Your spirits shall once again be lifted.  You shall wear this ring on Rosh Hashanah.”

Early the next morning, Benaiah traveled to Beersheba to meet the great caravans that were traveling back from Babylon, Tyre, Egypt, and Yemen.  “Dear Traders, I’m looking for a magical ring.  When a happy person looks at it, they immediately become sad.  But, a mournful person becomes comforted.”  The traders looked at each other and raised their eyebrows.  “I’m afraid we have never heard of a ring like that.  How about beautiful metal carving from Yemen.  The metal working there is exquisite and will delight the king.“   “No, no!” said Benaiah.  There is only one ring that is fit for the king and this is the magical ring. 

Spring turned to summer and Benaiah traveled to the city of Jaffa.  Perhaps this ring comes from across the Great Sea.  Benaiah met ship captains who traveled to far off islands.  “Dear Captains, I’m looking for a ring, perhaps you have seen it on your voyages.  “When a happy person looks at it, they immediately become sad.  But, a mournful person becomes comforted.”  The ship captains laughed out loud.  “You are being hoodwinked!  There is no such ring.   We did find one-of-a-kind pearl out in our travels.  Would the king fancy that?”  “No, no.”   The king never lies.  This ring exists.  I will find it.”

Time was not on Benaiah’s side.  Six months had passed quickly and it was only days before the New Year would begin.  He hadn’t found the magical ring.  How could he have failed the king?  On the night before Rosh Hashanah, Benaiah walked through the streets of Jerusalem traveling farther and farther from the palace.  He ended up in a poorer neighborhood where he saw a young man dressed in shabby clothes.  In front of him, on a tattered blanket were small trinkets, mismatched earrings, and dulled rings for sale.  “My friend, I’m looking for a magical ring.  When a happy person looks at it, they immediately become sad.  But a mournful person becomes comforted.” 

“Minister, look at me, what do I know about magical rings?”  Benaiah turned to leave to give up his quest, when the young man’s grandmother approached and whispered in his ear.   “I know of such a ring.  Give me a moment and I’ll have it ready for you.”

The old woman presented Benaiah with a simple metal ring.  Benaiah who was forlorn, laughed out loud when he saw the ring.  Even though he was sad, looking at the magical ring made him happy!

Benaiah hurried to the palace.  Everyone was preparing for Erev Rosh Hashanah.  The king was the saddest Benaiah had ever seen him.  Although it was Rosh Hashanah, the king seemed sorrowful and mournful.

“Benaiah, have you found the ring?”

 “Yes, your majesty!” 

Benaiah presented King Solomon with the magical ring.  The king who was filled with great sadness immediately felt comforted.  Etched inside the ring were three simple letters.  Gimmel, Zayin, and Yud.  They stood for three words:  “Gam Zeh Ya’avor.”  “This too shall pass!”

“Benaiah, you are truly a faithful servant.  You have found the magical ring.  I shall wear it on my finger as a signet.  It will serve as a reminder of how quickly the world can change. Sadness to happiness, joy to mourning, Gam Zeh Ye’avor.  “This too shall pass!” 

This evening, as we turn the page from 5784 to 5785, we know that too many in our community, like King Solomon, are filled with great sadness.  Too many of us, our family, and our friends are experiencing illness.  Too many of us buried loved ones, too many lost jobs or encountered great difficulties.  For all of us, a great sadness permeates our souls with the ongoing conflict in Israel and in Gaza, and now Iran.   

King Solomon’s Ring is an old story told in our Persian Jewish community.  I’m certain that the phrase “This too shall pass!” is not unknown to you.  In Israel, as one traverses the jewelry stores and tourist shops on Ben Yehuda Street, it’s easy to find rings with the words Gam Zeh Ye’avor, “This too shall pass.”  In so many ways, Israelis live by this motto praying that the world as it is, will transform into the world as it should be.  This adage is a prayer of hope, that tomorrow will be better than today. 

For all of us, I pray that the hardship, the sadness, the worries, and the stress will pass away.  May our sorrows be eased.  May our mourning truly give way to comfort.

But there is another side to “This too shall pass.”  For others of us, we welcome Rosh Hashanah with great happiness and great joy!  There have been so many simchas in our community over the last twelve months.  Births, graduations, weddings, family reunions, new jobs, renewed friendships, and celebrations with our loved ones!  “This too shall pass” is a stark warning, a reminder, that the happy moments don’t occur each day.  This motto reminds us that we must seize every moment!  We know how fleeting life can be.  How quickly the tables can turn.  In this New Year, may we always be present at the happy moments.  May we celebrate with joy.  May we dance, smile often, and laugh heartedly.  May we savor every simcha!

There is a third interpretation of “This too shall pass!”  We often think that this phrase applies to us as individuals.  When I am sad, I pray that comfort will come to me.  When I am happy, I know that sadness will sometime again fill my soul.  But we don’t go through life as individuals; we live together in a community.  We are connected to each other and our lives and our wellbeing depend on the people that surround us.

Our great President, Abraham Lincoln, reminds us of this sentiment in a speech he gave on September 30, 1859, to the Wisconsin State Agricultural Society in Milwaukee.[ii]  I guess even then Wisconsin was a swing state! 

“It is said an Eastern monarch once charged his wise men to invent him a sentiment to be ever in view, and which should be true and appropriate in all times and situations. They presented him the words, "And this, too, shall pass away." How much it expresses! How chastening in the hour of pride; how consoling in the depths of affliction! "And this, too, shall pass away." And yet, let us hope, it is not quite true. Let us hope, rather, that by the best cultivation of the physical world, beneath and around us, and the intellectual and moral worlds within us, we shall secure an individual, social, and political prosperity and happiness, whose course shall be onward and upward, and which, while the earth endures, shall not pass away.”

I don’t need to tell you that our world is on fire right now.  Our country, the Middle East, even our city is at a precipice.  President Lincoln reminds us of our obligation as Jews and as Americans to secure the social, political prosperity, and the happiness of the entire community.  We have a responsibility to do our part to make sure that goodness, justice, compassion, and peace continue to thrive in our country.  If we don’t act, then the fights we have won will pass away into the dustbins of history.

An election is coming.  Israel and Gaza cause great sorrow. There are challenges in our community, our families, and our world.  In our Jewish tradition, “This too shall pass,” is not a passive phrase, but a reminder that our world only changes through our own and our collective action.

On these first minutes of 5785, we pray with all our hearts for a year of happiness, a year of health, a year of joy, and a year of peace.  “This too shall pass” looms large.  In this New Year, may we never let a simcha pass by with celebration.  May we always celebrate with gusto.  And in these times of great difficulty, may we stand up, may we reach out, and may we work together to make this world “the world as it should be.”  Ken Yehi Ratzon, May it be so,  Amen. 



[i] A famous Persian Jewish tale about King Solomon.  This story is based upon a version told by Judith Ish-Kishor “King Solomon’s Ring” found in The Jewish Spirit: A Celebration in Stories and Art edited by Ellen Frankel


Thursday, September 20, 2018

Yom Kippur Sermon: Don't Give Up Hope on Israel




One of the first lessons you learn as a rabbi is that there’s a third rail in Judaism: “It’s called Israel!”  My fellow rabbis like to joke that no good comes from speaking about Israel on the bima.  No matter what you say, everyone will be angry!  Those on the right and the left will give you menacing stares, write angry e-mails, and you’ll rub everyone the wrong way.  Oh, and you’ll get fired!  Lovely!  So here we go…

With all this uproar and anger, why would I wade into this conversation?  Wouldn’t it be better to talk about something, anything, else?  Alas, I MUST speak about Israel.  Israel has been on my mind.  I’ve heard from many of you about your own worries around Israel.  I too have struggled with recent news.
 
I’d like to start this conversation by describing my own experience with Israel: my love of Israel, but also my current questions.  I hope that by sharing my story, it will help you think about your own personal connection to Israel! 

Israel has been a part of my life, since the very beginning.  Literally, one of my first memories is connected to Israel.  When I was five years old, I remember distinctly making my first Israeli flag at Sunday School.  Blue and White construction paper were cut out and pasted together to form the Magen David (the Jewish Star).  We waved these flags as we sat down on our “El-Al” plane with a mock passport in hand.

Eight year later, I journeyed to Israel for the first time for my Bar Mitzvah.  I remember standing stoically at the Kotel, the Western Wall, alongside my parents and grandparents.  I watched as my grandfather got teary eyed when he spotted Gordon Street written in Hebrew letters.

As soon as I came home, I knew I would be back!  This time for longer.  A semester at Hebrew University in Jerusalem and later my entire first year of rabbinical school.   That year and a half in the Holy Land allowed me to experience Jewish time.  I watched as everyone scurried on Fridays to get home in time for Shabbat dinner.  I was in awe as the streets emptied during Yom Kippur or when each family placed a lit Menorah in their window during Hanukkah. 

Many Friday evenings, I traveled to Kol HaNeshama, one of the Reform synagogues in Jerusalem, praying with Israelis and singing familiar songs.  I met friends who became future Israeli Reform Rabbis.  I was honored to watch these pioneers create a vibrant Liberal Judaism in Israel.

I love Israel.  I love the history and connection to our past.  I love the diversity of Israel, the smells and the sounds: the ringing of the church bells, the call of Muslim prayer, the davening that wafts through the windows of the synagogue.  I love the brashness of the no-nonsense Israeli.  I love the can-do attitude and the hope for a better tomorrow.

Yet, recently, that love has turned to confusion.  The news coming out of Israel has been challenging and at times infuriating.  Not long ago, Rabbi Dov Haiyun, a Conservative Rabbi from Haifa, was awoken in the early morning hours as the police arrested him and detained him. The crime?  Illegally officiating at a Jewish wedding.  Liberal rabbis have officiated at weddings for secular Israelis, Russian Jews, and same-sex couples, even when they were not recognized by the State or the Chief Rabbinate.  This was the first time that a rabbi was arrested for performing a wedding, punishing my liberal colleagues and using this as a scare tactic.

Not long after, the Knesset, Israel’s parliament, voted in favor of the Nation-State Law.  This law focuses exclusively on Israel’s Jewish character, superseding the values of pluralism, democracy, and freedom that were at the heart of Israel’s Declaration of Independence.  There are already repercussions. After seventy years, Arabic is no longer an official language of the state.  The Druze, a small non-Jewish sect, which is deeply loyal to Israel and serves bravely in the army, now feels betrayed.  This is a blow to all who care deeply about both Israel’s Democratic and Jewish values.

At the same time, the Knesset passed a bill, making surrogacy legal for straight couples, but illegal for LGBTQ families.   And then there is the never-ending occupation; the fighting in Gaza; and the pessimism that Israel and the Palestinians will never achieve peace.

I’m saddened by this news.  The Israel I care about is under attack.  I shudder to hear stories of those who are mocked, treated unfairly, and arrested for living their Judaism.  I am hurt that Brian and I would be unable to build a loving Jewish family in Israel, the Jewish State, solely because we are gay.  I’m troubled that the values I hold most dear: democracy, egalitarianism, respect for all citizens, pluralism, diversity, and justice are now under siege.  I love Israel with all my heart, yet it’s hard to love when the values I care most about are trampled upon.

If it makes you feel a little bit better, and it makes me feel better, this is not a new problem.  This is an age old problem.  We Jews have constantly argued with one another.  For millennia, there has been a battle for the very soul of Judaism, the soul of Israel. 

Long ago, the prophet Zechariah lived in the sixth century BCE, just as the Jewish community was returning home to Israel.  After seventy years of exile in Babylonia, the Jewish community began to rebuild what had been destroyed.

A question was asked: “What should a rebuilt Israel look like?  What should be the vision of our new country?”  In Babylonia, the people had mourned for the destruction of their Land and their Temple by fasting and weeping.  Now that they returned home, should they continue these Jewish practices? 

Zechariah replied with a sharp answer: You are asking the wrong question!  It’s not about fasting or lamenting or focusing solely on the Jewish rituals of the past, “No, this is what Adonai says, execute true justice, deal loyally and compassionately with one another.  Do not defraud the widow, the orphan, the stranger, and the poor; and do not plot evil against one another” …. “These are the things you are to do: Speak the truth to one another, render true and perfect justice in your gates.[i]

Those who returned from Babylonia stressed Israel’s Jewish identity above all else.  Zechariah disagreed staunchly with this assessment and shared a distinct moral vision for the country.  A rebuilt Israel must also embrace justice, decency, and compassion.  Israel must become a beacon of morality, a light to the nations.  The battle of Zechariah’s day was over the essence of Israel’s character.  That is our battle today.

We might not hear about it, but Zechariah’s vision is alive and well in Israel!  Unfortunately, the attention given by our news sources, tv and print, focuses only on the negative as well as the rise of Israel’s right.  There is another side!  Did you know that weeks ago over 100,000 Israelis gathered in Tel Aviv in support of Gay rights and in opposition of the new surrogacy law?  Did you know that 22,000 people gathered at the Pride Parade in Jerusalem?  These are huge numbers for Israel.  That would be more than 4 million people protesting in Washington or almost a million people marching at a Pride Parade in Baltimore.

Close to my heart, is my friend, Rabbi Tamara Shifrin, who leads Achavat Yisrael a Reform Congregation in Rishon Le’Tzion.  The congregation has been around for seventeen years and has grown and flourished under Rabbi Shifrin’s leadership.  A few months ago, Garin Torani, an Orthodox Community attempted to take over her synagogue building.  Luckily, she and her congregation didn’t back down and received support from the municipality.  All is well, yet she’s worried about the future.  I’m proud that she recently joined an organization called Elifelet that supports Refugee Children in Israel.

And there is Woman of the Wall, a group of Jewish Women who gather each month at the Kotel donned with kippot and tallasim to pray and dance with the Torah.  They are spit on, drowned out with blare horns, and have been arrested for “not keeping the peace” solely because they are expressing their right as women to join in prayer and read from the Torah.  For thirty years, each month, they have gathered and they won’t stop until there is equality for all!

And most impressive is our Reform Movement in Israel, especially the Israel Religious Action Center (IRAC), which fights against discrimination and abuse in all facets of Israeli Society.  When an extremist group created a job website that only allowed Jewish employers and Jewish job seekers access, IRAC joined with the Mossawa Center and filed a lawsuit that later won in court!  At cross examination, Anat Hoffman, the Director of IRAC was asked: “Why does the Reform Movement care if we discriminate against Arabs?  Isn’t your focus on providing services to Reform Jews.”  Her answer: “We are committed to equality as a religious value.  It is as important to our movement as religious services on Yom Kippur.”

I know the news coming out of Israel is upsetting.  It sometimes feels easier to walk away.  And many in our community have done just that.  More and more liberal Jews feel that the Israel of their youth is no longer the Israel of today.  They feel lied to, betrayed by the Jewish Community for not telling the full story.  They’re angry, sometimes and often rightly so, but that anger causes them to leave Israel behind.

And there are those who close their eyes to Israel’s mistakes.  Sometimes it’s easier to put on blinders and ignore the challenges.  We love Israel, yet, in that undevoted love, we fail to call out Israel’s warts.  Like our country, Israel is not perfect.  Israel must be reminded that she has a duty to support all Jews and all her citizens.

I have felt both these reactions, sometimes too often.  There are times when I just want to walk away.  I want to say enough is enough.  There are other times, when I want to defend the indefensible and hide all of Israel’s problems.  But neither of these reactions is helpful.  It doesn’t further my relationship with Israel and I believe won’t change anything at all.

Rather than walking away, we can effect change!  There are millions of Israelis who care about the values of democracy, equality, pluralism, and peace.  There is a growing Reform Jewish community that just ordained it’s 100th rabbi this past year.  New synagogues are sprouting up and more Israelis are entering these communities for weddings and B’nai Mitzvah!  There are organizations such as the Israel Religious Action Center, the Israeli Movement for Progressive Judaism, Women of the Wall, the New Israel Fund, T’ruah, B’tzelem, and dozens of others that fight for progressive Jewish values and equality for all.

Our Israeli brethren need our support!  Recently, Rabbi Shifrin reminded me (once again!) that she needs us.  Israelis who fight for justice and equality, who care about peace and pluralism need to know that we are by their side and that we stand with them in support of this vision.

So here’s what you can do, if may be small, but it will make a difference: Travel to Israel!  And when you do, visit a Reform Congregation.  Add Progressive Israeli organizations as part of your annual giving.  Stay informed.  Write to the Israeli Embassy and sign petitions when you are upset.  Get involved in organizations that work for peace.  Stand with our allies in Israel!  Don’t walk away.  Don’t give us hope. 

As the prophet Zechariah teaches: “the fast will become an occasion for joy and gladness, but only if you love honesty and integrity.”  On this fast day, on this Yom Kippur, may our actions bring about joy and gladness in Israel.  May we help build an Israel that is overflowing with justice and mercy, honesty and integrity, an Israel that celebrates all Jewish heritage and the heritage of all her peoples.  And let us say, Amen.


[i] Zechariah 7:3, 9-10 and 8:16

Friday, August 18, 2017

This is Not Normal Times. We Must Unite Against Hatred.


I’m not sure about you, but these last few days have been the most depressing, discouraging, and upsetting of the past year.  It has been a year of lows, but this past week’s events in Charlottesville, were the most searing of all.

We watched as Neo-Nazis, White Supremacists, and avowed Racists marched openly in army fatigues, carrying torches and semi-automatic weapons.  We saw Heather Heyer, a young woman who cared deeply about others, murdered while marching for justice.  We lost two Virginia State Police officers, H. Jay Cullen and Berke Bates and many others injured in the attacks.

The scene was vicious and the remarks by our president were bewildering, utterly lacking clarity, and horribly damaging to the future of our country.  Yet, it was words by another man, an ordinary man, that truly moved me and made me reflect upon the horrors of this last weekend.

AlanZimmerman, is the synagogue president of Congregation Beth Israel, the Reform and I believe the only synagogue in Charlottesville, Virginia.  I apologize if you already read his words which were shared widely, but it bares repeating.

The congregation knew for weeks that a protest would occur this past weekend in Charlottesville.  Yet, the police refused to provide them with an officer during services.  Luckily, they were able to hire a security guard, for the first time in their existence.  During the service, three men dressed in fatigues and armed with semi-automatic rifles stood across from the street.  Parades of Nazis passed his building, shouting, “There’s the synagogue!” with chants of “Seig Heil!” and other anti-Semitic language alongside swastikas and other Nazi symbols. 

Alan’s heart broke as he advised congregants to use the back entrance instead of the front and to please go out in groups, for their safety.

Later that day, Nazi websites posted a call to burn his synagogue.  He and one of his rabbis wondered, “Should we go back to the temple to protect the building?” What could they do if they were there?  In precaution, they had already deemed an attack within the realm of possibilities and had removed their Torahs, including a Holocaust scroll from the premises.

Throughout his poetic and haunting article, Alan kept coming back to the same phrase:  “This is America in 2017.” 

As a Jew growing up in Ohio, I experienced small amounts of anti-Semitism.  Jokes and pokes by so-called friends or others.  Yet, I always believed that the Jewish community went overboard on calling out everything as anti-Semitism.  It was our “sheep calling wolf” moment.  Yet, this moment is not the years of my youth.  This is not normal times.  This is 2017 in America.

Our Torah portion, Re’eh, speaks about this issue directly.  The Torah describes the existence of false prophets.  These are individuals (and groups of individuals) who will lead us down the wrong path, who will turn us away from our morality and ethical behavior.  They are powerful because of their charisma.  They have power because of their many followers and of their message which deeply impacts people’s thinking.  Yet, we know that they are false prophets; they will lead us astray.

What should be our answer in combating these false prophets?  The Torah provides one line, one answer:  “You shall walk after Adonai your God and fear God.  You shall keep God’s commandments and obey God’s voice, serve God, and cleave to God" (Deuteronomy 13:5).

This doesn’t seem like a powerful response.  When there is a false prophet, when there are those who actively seek to hurt us or destroy our very being, our answer is to walk after Adonai and keep God’s commandments?  It seems too passive, too meek.

Yet, yesterday, a rabbinic colleague, Rabbi Alex Kress, shared an incredible gem written by Rabbi Avraham Mordechai of Gur, a Chasidic rebbe from the turn of the last century.   The Gerrer Rebbe teaches that this phrase, “You shall walk after Adonai, fear God, keep the commandments” appeared previously in last week’s Torah portion.  Last week, the statement was singular.  When you, each of you, walk with God…  Yet, this week’s phrase in the plural, “When all of you walk…”

The Gerrer Rebbe teaches that in normal times, each person can be God-fearing alone in our own homes.  We don’t need each other; we can do it by ourselves.   Yet, (And these are his words), yet, when heresy and anarchy prevail in the world, the power of the individual is insignificant, and there is need for good people to combine, to form a mighty force, which will defend against our detractors. 

When the Torah speaks about the false prophets, it is writen not in the singular but in the plural.  When they (and they are always a they), when they come together, we are insignificant by ourselves.  We must unite together against those who wish to destroy us.

This is not normal times.  This is America in 2017.  We can’t do it alone, we are insignificant.  We must do it together.

And together we will.  These were some of the brightest moments of last weekend:  It was John Aguilar, a 30 year Navy veteran, who took it upon himself to stand guard over the Charlottesville synagogue.  It was dozens of strangers who stopped by the synagogue and asked if they could stand alongside them. It was their wonderful rabbis who stood on the front lines with other Charlottesville clergy opposing hate.

This is not normal times.  This is America in 2017.  We can’t do it alone, we are insignificant.  We must do it together.

And so we will.  On Monday August 28th, I alongside others from Bolton Street will caravan down to Washington for the 1,000 Ministers March on Racial Injustice (it’s not just for rabbis!).  Alongside the interfaith community and the Religious Action Center for Reform Judaism, I and others will march.  If you are able, please join me!

We will reach out to our interfaith allies.  We will continue to work on justice issues around education, racism, and anti-Semitism.  Our Social Action Committee is gearing up and we need your help.  Let us know if you wish to help.

And I urge you to make donations of tzedakah to Jewish and non-Jewish organizations that are working for justice.  We need people and dollars, to make systematic change.

In a few days, the Solar Eclipse will occur on the shores of our country, for the first time in many years.  There will be darkness across our country, yet only for a few minutes.  The sun will shine again; the rays of light will be a beacon to us all.  This is now a time of darkness, yet together, we can bring light into our world.  One candle at a time will bridge the darkness towards light.  Together, our light will shine.  Amen.