Categories
Books CCAR Press Inclusion

Ushpizot—Don’t Forget the Female Sukkah Guests!

Rabbi Dalia Marx, PhD, is the author of From Time to Time: Journeys in the Jewish Calendar, now available from CCAR Press. In this excerpt, she discusses the tradition of inviting guests to the sukkah and how many families are renewing it today.

A few years ago, we bought a nice new sukkah, on the cloth walls of which are inscribed the names of the ushpizin, the seven historical guests we invite to our sukkah—Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, Aaron, and David. I was industrious; I bought a set of permanent markers and added to those seven names the names of women I wanted to greet as ushpizot in my sukkah.

In recent years, an increasing number of women have sought to take a more active part in the Jewish religious experience, and indeed almost all streams of Judaism are now involved with the inclusion of women. As part of those efforts, many people have brought to the fore female role models from the Jewish tradition. We are learning that it is not enough to be engaged only with the figures of our three Patriarchs; we also need to take a deep dive into the figures of the four Matriarchs. When the liturgy includes the Song at the Sea, sung by Moses and the Israelites as they passed through the sea on dry land, some now add the Song of Miriam (Exodus 15:20–21). The purpose of including women is to present female role models (even if they are not always perfect, since the mothers of the nation—like the fathers—were human, with all that entails). In this context, suggestions have been made to add seven female guests to the seven ushpizin invited into the sukkah on Sukkot.

Since this suggestion was first made, it has attracted many supporters; little by little, in many parts of the Jewish world, people have begun to include seven female guests alongside their male counterparts. As opposed to the traditionally established list of the male ushpizin, active choices must be made for the seven ushpizot.

Who are the seven female guests we would like to bring inside the sukkah with us? The need to choose seven ancient female role models has resulted in some interesting answers.

One suggestion was to add the female partner of each of the male ushpizin. Abraham, then, would be joined by Sarah, Isaac by Rebekah, and Jacob by Leah, while Rachel would join her son Joseph; Zipporah would join Moses, Miriam would join her brother Aaron, and with David would come one of his wives (Bathsheba, Michal, or Abigail—with no illusion about that being a fraught decision) or with his great-grandmother, that paragon of faith, Ruth.

Dr. Anat Yisraeli has suggested including the seven female prophets that arose among the people Israel: “‘Seven female prophets [prophesied for Israel].’ Who were these? Sarah, Miriam, Deborah, Hannah, Abigail, Huldah, and Esther” (Babylonian Talmud, M’gillah 14a). Yisraeli ascribes to each of the seven female prophets a beneficent quality and suggests embracing that quality during that day: Sarah had endurance and an ability to protect and shield others. Miriam had vitality and exuberance. Deborah modeled leadership and bravery; Hannah—faith and willpower; Abigail—resourcefulness and mercy; Huldah—powers of prophecy and rebuke; and Esther—self-sacrifice and courage.

Other interesting suggestions have been offered for including the ushpizot, such as that of the Dov Abramson Studio, a Jerusalem graphic design firm, which produced a series of twenty-six posters (and little flags and magnets) of ushpizot from the Bible through today. In this case, it is precisely the absence of women from an ancient tradition that makes it possible to exercise some measure of contemporary creativity. And when we seek to bring our ancient female forebears into traditions we are creating, we are invited to answer some fascinating questions.

Rabbi Dalia Marx, PhD, is the Rabbi Aaron D. Panken Professor of Liturgy at Hebrew Union College–Jewish Institute of Religion (HUC-JIR) in Jerusalem. She is the chief editor of T’filat HaAdam, the Israeli Reform prayer book (MaRaM, 2020). From Time to Time: Journeys in the Jewish Calendar was first published in Israel in 2018 as Bazman and has been translated into German, Spanish, and now English.

Categories
Israel Rabbinic Reflections

‘The Wheat Is Growing Again’: Rabbi Tamir Nir on Communal Spiritual Regrowth After October 7

Rabbi Tamir Nir is an Israeli Reform rabbi and the founder of the Israeli Reform congregation Achva Ba’Kerem in Jerusalem. Here, he shares his hope for regrowth and renewal even in tragic, trying times, and he shares how his Reform congregation, which includes a community garden, has provided a spiritual refuge during the war.

_____

“It’s not the same old house now; it’s not the same old valley
You’re gone and never can return again.
The path, the boulevard, a skyward eagle tarries…
And yet the wheat still grows again.”

Dorit Tzameret wrote this song after the 1973 Yom Kippur War. In it, she wonders how wheat can grow again after everything has gone and is simultaneously amazed and excited by nature’s regenerative capacity.

This is how I have found encouragement, hope, and motivation since the beginning of the war and even today.

These days, the squill is the only plant that grows and blooms in Israel after a long and dry summer. It emerges from the dry and barren land without leaves or branches, an upright, white, proud inflorescence like the phoenix. It renews itself, like the new year, which comes out of the void, and the moon, which is covered and then shows the ability of renewal.

I founded the Achva Beit HaKerem—a Reform congregation in the Keram community in Jerusalem—in 2007 because I understood the acute need to build communities for secular Israeli urban society. The necessity of fostering identity and belonging and creating frameworks for support and mutual responsibility to build personal and community resilience. We need to achieve political power to make a difference in the neighborhood, the city, and even the country.

The reality in Israel proves that the traditional synagogue is not suitable for most of the Israeli society: Secular Israelis want to contribute and immerse themselves in acts, in tikkun olam.

We built a community garden with the understanding that this is the place where the community can grow. The garden is where trees and vegetables grow, and people create a community. It is a gathering space open to all, without fences or definitions—a synagogue without walls. Since it is an open public space, the garden invites residents from all sectors and genders so everyone can feel welcome and significant.

Our garden calls for an endless and continuing encounter with the cycle of nature. Working in the garden requires faith, even in the simple act of sowing: “Those who sow with tears will reap with Joy” (Psalms 126:1). We need faith that the seed will sprout, grow, and bear fruit. This action encourages faith and hope and a call for action that leads to social action. This act proves our ability to repair and create with nature, with the help of rain and the sun, in partnership with God.

I want to share two new projects that have grown in our community this past summer.

  1. During the war, we started holding carpentry workshops in the garden, focused on repairing old and broken furniture and recycling wood. Here, too, we witness our ability to mend what is broken, despite the brokenness. Many of the participants in the workshops today are reservists who left Gaza, as well as their spouses.
  2. “Beer Garden” has become a regular weekly event lately, attracting hundreds of people. We learned that sitting with neighbors over a glass of beer opens hearts and creates closeness, as well as new interactions between people. Sometimes, it even leads to new initiatives and projects.

“How awesome is this place! This is none other than the abode of God, and that is the gateway to heaven.” Genesis 28:17

The services held in the garden on Shabbat and holidays call us to pause, rest, admire our joint effort, and enjoy “the fruit of our labor.” We connect to each other and God. This profound experience of joining together offers spiritual renewal and strength, which is needed in these difficult days.

In prayer for good days, peace, growth, and peace.

Rabbi Tamir Nir is an ordained Reform rabbi who serves as the congregational rabbi for Congregation Achva Ba’Kerem, which he founded in 2007. Rabbi Nir teaches Jewish and Islamic thought in a high school for religious and secular Israelis. He recently served as Deputy Mayor of Jerusalem, where he bridged differences between the many diverse communities that make up the city, as the head of the BINA Secular Yeshiva, and as chair of the Heschel Center for Sustainability. He has an MA in Jewish Education and a BA in Architecture and Urban Planning. 

Categories
CCAR Press Israel Poetry Prayer

El Malei Rachamim for October 7

Rabbi Karyn D. Kedar shares this poem to commemorate one year since the October 7 attacks. It is entitled El Malei Rachamim (“Merciful God”) after the traditional Jewish memorial prayer. CCAR Press has also put together a full collection of poems, prayers, and readings to mark one year since October 7. Download the collection here.

El Malei Rachamim

In blessed memory of you

hiding in the fields and bushes,
and the joggers out for a run,
and the moms and dads making breakfast for their toddlers in their kitchens,
and the parents in their safe rooms, holding the door handles for hours,
and the babies—innocent infants—and the grandfathers, and the grandmothers,
and entire families, parents watching their children die, children watching their parents,
and entire neighborhoods of young adults who were waiting to begin their lives,
and you, the brave, throwing hand grenades back out of the shelters without doors
over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again,
and you, the courageous, who ran towards the carnage to save who you could over again,
and you who were trapped in hundreds of incinerated cars,
and the fathers who frantically drove from the north to find their children
who cried, Abba, they are near, and I’ve been shot, find me,
and the friends who escaped but returned to rescue their friends and were killed,
and you who were raped and maimed and mutilated,
and you, who danced as the sun rose and will never see another sunrise and never dance again,
and the hostages stolen, beaten, tortured, starved, kept in dark tunnels and family homes,
and killed cruelly in captivity,
and the young women who stood guard on the towers over Gaza and who watched from screens
in darkened rooms showing us, warning us, and were ignored, and were slaughtered,
and the civilian guard who held the line to the last bullet without help for hours,
and the brave police who fought to the end, and the superheroes of the Israel Defense Forces,
valiant, brave lions of Judah…

Your lives were brutally taken on October 7, 2023 and in the relentless aftermath.
El malei rachmim, have compassion upon your souls,
El malei rachmim, have compassion upon our broken hearts.

Rabbi Karyn D. Kedar is Rabbi Emerita at Congregation B’nai Jehoshua Beth Elohim in Deerfield, Illinois. She is the author of Omer: A Counting and Amen: Seeking Presence with Prayer, Poetry, and Mindfulness Practice, both from CCAR Press.

Categories
Books CCAR Press Poetry

Looking Forward, Looking Backward: Meditation on the Eve of a New Year

Alden Solovy is the author of Enter These Gates: Meditations for the Days of Awe, now available from CCAR Press. As Rosh HaShanah approaches, we share one of Alden’s poems from the book for the new year.

Meditation on the Eve of a New Year

God,
We stand at the cusp of a new year,
Looking forward, looking backward,
So much accomplished,
So much neglected,
Gains and losses,
Joys and sorrows,
Victories and defeats.
A life.
My life.

You,
God of Old,
You are Steadfast Witness,
Source and Shelter.
I bend my heart to You,
Recalling all of Your gifts.

God,
For consolation in my grief,
For sunlight and midnight,
For hope in my celebrations,
For warmth and for shelter,
For current and tide,
For family and for friends,
For the flow of beauty and grace,
I bend my life back to You,
As the New Year descends,
In love and in service,
My offering
To Your holy name.

—
Alden Solovy is a liturgist based in Jerusalem. He is the author of This Grateful Heart: Psalms and Prayers for a New Day, This Joyous Soul: A New Voice for Ancient Yearnings, This Precious Life: Encountering the Divine in Poetry and Prayer, These Words: Poetic Midrash on the Language of Torah, and Enter These Gates: Meditations for the Days of Awe, all published by CCAR Press.

Categories
CCAR Press Israel

October 7, One Year Later: Readings for Commemoration

CCAR Press has compiled a collection of prayers, readings, and poems, many written by CCAR members, to mark one year since the life-changing events of October 7, 2023. Here, we share the introduction to this collection:

October 7 has indelibly left its mark in our hearts and memories. We remember where we were, what we were doing, and the sinking sense of horror and loss on what should have been a day of celebration and joy in our Torah. Too many Israeli lives were lost; too many hostages were taken; too many families were displaced. The aftermath has unleashed one horror after another: rising waves of antisemitism in the Diaspora, widespread evacuations in Israel’s north, hundreds of Israeli soldiers fallen in battle, and tens of thousands of innocent Gazans killed because of Hamas’s actions and Israel’s response.

There are times to address each of these horrors—to demand hostages be returned home, to reckon with antisemitism at home and abroad, to soothe the divisions within the Jewish community. There will be a time for healing and rebuilding—God willing, speedily. But today, on the anniversary of the worst violence against Jews since the Holocaust, our task is to bear witness, to remember, and to mourn.

These readings may be shared as part of services and ceremonies with attribution of the authors and the CCAR. We hope these readings, prayers, and poems will provide support, meaning, and connection as you commemorate the anniversary of October 7, 2023.

Download the free collection.

Categories
Israel Rabbinic Reflections

Rosh Chodesh Elul: Two Reform Rabbinic Perspectives on Teaching About Israel and Finding Ourselves in the Wilderness

The Reform Israel Rabbinic Cabinet has created a monthly forum where two rabbis will share with Reform rabbis their thoughts on teaching and preaching about Israel in the month ahead. For Rosh Chodesh Elul, Rabbi Melissa Simon has shared her thoughts, and Rabbi Dan Moskovitz has shared a Davar Acheir, a second perspective. 

Writing About Israel in Advance, by Rabbi Melissa Simon 

When I was asked to write this piece, my first question was “How late can I submit it?” This was not just because I have a tendency to procrastinate, but rather because every passing hour seems to see shifts and changes in the reality on the ground in the Middle East. So how can someone write about Israel in advance?  Writing about Israel in advance requires flexibility, an awareness of the possibility of a last-minute edit or rewrite, and creativity. It means identifying goals or themes and then ideating around them. Sometimes these initiatives can lead to meaningful adaptations and ideas.  

Over the first seven months of 2024, I organized and led three trips of Hillel campus staff from the United States, Canada, and Poland to Israel to better understand the post-October 7 reality. We painstakingly crafted a journal full of poetry, songs, prayers, and art. But then we faced a challenge: we desperately wanted to believe that our hostages wouldn’t still be held captive by the time the trip took place, yet it was a possibility (and sadly a reality throughout each trip). What did we do? We found an image that resembled a torn piece of tape, like the one Rachel Goldberg—the mother of hostage Hersh Goldberg-Polin—has been wearing attached to her clothing, what she calls “an emblem of pain,” marking the days of captivity of her beloved son, who was tragically murdered by Hamas. In solidarity, many of us around the world have been wearing the torn tape with the unbelievably increasing total number of days. We printed the blank tape image at the top of each day’s journal page and invited the participants to fill out the number of days each morning. It became a painful yet powerful ritual each day, as we marked the difficult passage of time. It centered the people of Israel and their reality at the forefront of our minds and hearts. 

The take-away I have from this experience is that however difficult it is, we must talk about Israel, we must write about Israel, we must engage in the work of Israel education—even when it is hard, even if our old systems and plans have failed us, even if we fear we will make a mistake. 

We need to center Israeli voices in our work, and we need to travel to Israel to experience the changed realities. We need to read books and articles, listen to podcasts, and watch TV and movies in order to add to our knowledge. We need to be creative with how we engage with Israel, and we need to be expansive in how we understand the people, land, and State of Israel. 

The greatest danger is the silence. The fear of getting it wrong causes some people to freeze and to fail to act. Our Jewish communities need prophetic and strong voices. They need sermons that make sense of what is hard to understand. They need classes that explain history and how present realities have come to be.   

Yes, sometimes you might need to edit that sermon right before services because something has shifted in world events. Yes, sometimes you might need to throw out the lesson plan to hold space to deal with a challenging reality. Yes, sometimes we can confess that we too are confused or scared or challenged. 

But even when it is hard—perhaps precisely because it is hard—we need to write, speak, and teach about Israel today and every day. 

Davar Acheir / Another Perspective: Always in the Wilderness, by Rabbi Dan Moskovitz 

Thank you, Rabbi Simon, for your thought-provoking and honest reflections on the challenges of writing about Israel amidst the daily uncertainty and dynamism of a post-October 7 world.

I too have been putting off my High Holy Day sermon topic selection let alone outlining and drafting, which by Elul is usually at least in my head if not on paper. Shabbat sermons and divrei Torah have been similarly “eleventh hour” as events impact perspective on a daily basis.  

And yet some things about Israel and the experience of Jews in the diaspora never change, even as they appear new to us as twenty-first-century Jews. For over seventy-five years, the miraculous existence of the State of Israel, to say nothing of Jews in the West in general; the nature, character, and acceptance among the community of nations of both the Jewish State and the Jewish People has been fragile and under attack from enemies “foreign and domestic.” The fantasy we tell ourselves is that the forces unleashed on October 7 are new and different, rather than revealing something that has been there all along, and that our people have faced for millennia.  

Franklin Foer’s piece in the Atlantic, “The Golden Age of American Jews Is Ending,” makes the point that what we are experiencing now is not the exception but rather normative of attitudes toward Jews and becoming normative toward Israel. I draw some degree of strength from that sad reality. We have been here before and are still here.  

I think of the tens of thousands of sermons and articles written by our rabbinic predecessors in their own precarious times; the strength (koach) and wisdom they gave their communities in dire moments such as these that guided our people through the wilderness. Maybe that is the burden and the blessing of being a Jew or a Jewish State—we are always in the wilderness striving toward a promised land, a promised time, but we never quite get there. In the striving, in the wilderness journey, our true character is formed and the dangers to our survival are revealed so we can confront them.  

The Reform Israel Rabbinic Cabinet asks that if you choose to respond to these authors, you do so only with kavod harav—respect for the rabbi sharing their wisdom, experience, time, and talent. 

Rabbi Melissa B. Simon is the director of Israel education for Hillel International and lives in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. Rabbi Dan Moskovitz is the senior rabbi of Temple Sholom in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. 

Categories
Books CCAR Press High Holy Days Poetry

Vulnerability During the Days of Awe: Alden Solovy on ‘Enter These Gates’

Alden Solovy is the author of Enter These Gates: Meditations for the Days of Awe, now available from CCAR Press. In this excerpt from the introduction, he reflects on the meaning of the High Holy Days and how his book can deepen our experiences of this season.

What a strange thing we do each year at the High Holy Days: We put our own humanity on trial. We take an accounting of our souls precisely at the moment we celebrate the creation of the world and lift up the sovereignty of God. We take accounting of our own souls because the world needs us each at our best, because part of perfecting God’s world is healing ourselves. Even though we know that the world will offer us moments of challenge—like September 11 and October 7—we choose to look deeply at our lives again and again, year after year.

The High Holy Days can lift us on words of Torah and prayer to the heights of our best selves. The days also call forth the deepest moments of our vulnerability and pain. Our memories—joyous and painful—meet our hopes for the future. These are the days of our most intimate self- assessment. By design, our liturgy brings out our sorrows, our fears, and our vulnerabilities. Yet the intent—far from punishment or retribution—is to lift us toward our best selves. Repentance. Prayer. Charity. Confession. Forgiveness. We ask a lot of ourselves and our liturgy. Our liturgy and our tradition ask a lot from us.

These challenges led to the genesis of my new book, Enter These Gates: Meditations for the Days of Awe. The volume has two purposes. The first is to serve as a source of new meditations for private use, a path to deepening our individual experiences of the Days of Awe. The second is as a new liturgical supplement to Mishkan HaNefesh: Machzor for the Days of Awe, which has been in use for more than a decade. Central to this book is the goal of helping clergy and congregations bring refreshed vigor and new voices into High Holy Day worship. Enter These Gates can also be used in conjunction with Mishkan HaLev: Prayers for S’lichot and the Month of Elul.

This volume offers more than one hundred new readings based on the core thematic elements of the High Holy Day liturgy. Some of the works are traditional in form and language, recognizable as riffs on particular prayers. Other prayer poems offered here blend traditional themes with storytelling, music-like interlude, or liturgical reframing.

My hopes are that:

▪ Rabbis and other clergy incorporate some of this work into High Holy Day worship, including S’lichot and Tashlich.

▪ Congregations place copies of Enter These Gates in their pews and prayer bookshelves so that congregants and participants can encounter this work in private prayer during services.

▪ Individuals use this volume during the month of Elul and the Days of Awe as part of their own personal journeys of High Holy Day preparation.

▪ Educators use this volume for supplemental prayer in religious school worship in the weeks leading up to the High Holy Days, as well as for teaching High Holy Day themes.

▪ Rabbis, clergy, and educators use Enter These Gates to teach about the High Holy Days in adult education and conversion classes.

The introduction to Mishkan HaNefesh asks, “Opening a prayer book on the High Holy Days, what do we hope to find?” If a machzor (High Holy Day prayer book) is successful, it goes on to say, “It leads us on a path across rough terrain.” Soul searching. Introspection. Mortality. Our shortcomings. Our beliefs. “It tests our spiritual stamina, and we do well to make use of imagination and memory.”

Although Enter These Gates is a book of prayers and meditations for the High Holy Days, don’t be fooled. It is really a mirror. A dream. A doorway. It is a book of imagination and memory, a book of challenges and warnings, a book of hopes and aspirations. It is a descent into fire and an ascent into secrets that rise to heaven.

Bless you on your journey.

Alden Solovy is a liturgist based in Jerusalem. He is the author of This Grateful Heart: Psalms and Prayers for a New Day, This Joyous Soul: A New Voice for Ancient Yearnings, This Precious Life: Encountering the Divine in Poetry and Prayer, These Words: Poetic Midrash on the Language of Torah, and Enter These Gates: Meditations for the Days of Awe, all published by CCAR Press.

Categories
Israel Rabbinic Reflections

Rosh Chodesh Av: Two Reform Rabbinic Perspectives on Embracing Conversations about Israel

The Reform Israel Rabbinic Cabinet has created a monthly forum featuring the thoughts of two Reform rabbis on Israel. This content provides Reform rabbis with material for teaching and preaching about Israel in the month ahead. For Rosh Chodesh Av, Rabbi Jeremy Barras has been invited to share his perspective, and Rabbi Keren Gorban shares a Davar Acheir, a second perspective.

The Many Faces of Zionism, by Rabbi Jeremy Barras

A few days after this year’s CCAR Convention in Philadelphia, I wrote a note to my colleagues urging us to respect each other’s views on Israel. For many years, as someone who stands to the right of many in the Conference on such issues, I have been frustrated by what I perceived as a lack of support for Israel amongst our colleagues. In the past I would spend parts of the workday debating with one colleague or another. Over time, I realized these exchanges were not productive. On the contrary, they often unnecessarily caused hurt feelings.

For the past few years, and especially since October 7, I have softened my approach even further. It became perfectly clear to me after October 7 that we each care deeply about what happens in Israel, and we each share equally in the pain and suffering that October 7 and its aftermath have caused. I will admit that I felt a tinge of resentment when the war began, and many of us called on the Biden Administration to support Israel in her time of need. For the past twenty years, some of us—including myself—have been criticized for being so active in AIPAC. Now that we have seen such incredible support from our government for Israel, I resented that some of us have been working tirelessly on Capitol Hill to build these relationships that have produced such incredible results, all the while taking criticism for being “too right wing.”

That is how I felt in the days immediately following October 7. I no longer feel that way. As the war drags on, I feel that each one of us brings an important approach to support for Israel. What is important is that we each feel like we are fulfilling our responsibility to support Israel in the way we best see fit.

Recently, I finished reading Yehudah Mirsky’s excellent biography of Rav Kook. I have always been drawn to Rav Kook and his willingness to open the bounds of traditional Judaism to the innovations of modern Zionism. Mirsky beautifully describes Rav Kook’s ability to see the holiness in the commitment of secular Zionists. While the ultra-Charedi world dismissed the secular Zionists as antithetical to Judaism, Rav Kook recognized that through Zionist activity a Jew could be brought into the realm of spirituality.

From my perspective, October 7 intensified Jewish identity for Jews around the world. Overnight, we found ourselves frightened for our futures. But that fear caused us to look deeply at why we care so much. And when the encampments were disassembled and the protesters finally gave way, we could not help asking ourselves a couple of questions: What is it about being Jewish that is so important to us? Why do the lies and vitriol of our enemies hurt us so profoundly? And in these moments, when we ask these questions, we may each draw different conclusions. This is no different than the early Zionists. There were so many different schools of thought on how the goals of Zionism should be achieved. But ultimately, it was clear that all of them were necessary to build the State of Israel. Likewise, today, just as Ben Gurion argued with Begin, and A.D. Gordon debated with Rav Kook, our differences should not stifle our contributions, they should complement them. No matter what our views are, we will do better to begin with the baseline that we each love the State of Israel, and our differences no matter how profound, are imbued with the holiness of the Zionist spirit. 

Davar Acheir, Another Perspective, by Rabbi Keren Gorban

We have entered the season when we remember, mourn, and seek comfort after the destructions of Jerusalem. The second of those destructions, our tradition teaches, resulted from שנאת חינם, sinat chinam, the free-flowing hatred and intolerance of others and their ideas, positions, and priorities. As Rabbi Barras rightly notes, the strength of our community depends on us valuing pluralism and learning from diverse perspectives.

I think it’s critical for us to recognize that our community also benefits from including the perspectives of those who identify as anti-Zionist and non-Zionist. When I meet with someone who tells me that they don’t believe in God, I invite more conversation: “Tell me about the God you don’t believe in.” Invariably, I don’t believe in that God either, but they and I can only discover our shared values and beliefs when we approach each other with respect and curiosity. From their opposition, I strengthen my own connection to God and learn more about how to teach theological complexity. They deepen their understanding of what people might mean when they refer to God, even if they ultimately decide that a relationship with God isn’t meaningful.

Likewise, we, as rabbis and as a movement, need to invite anti-Zionists and non-Zionists into conversation about the Zionism they oppose. These are not debates with the goal of proving one side right and the other wrong. These have to be open, curious, respectful opportunities to learn more about our hopes, visions, frustrations, etc., for and with the State of Israel. We will not always agree—in fact, we may often disagree—but let it be the result of deep understanding and love for each other rather than שנאת חינם, sinat chinam.

The Reform Israel Rabbinic Cabinet asks that if you choose to respond to these authors, you do so only with kavod harav—respect for the rabbi—sharing their wisdom, experience, time, and talent.

Rabbi Jeremy Barras is Senior Rabbi at Temple Beth Am in Pinecrest, Florida. He also serves on the CCAR board of trustees. Rabbi Keren Gorban serves Temple Beth El in Tacoma, Washington.

Categories
Books CCAR Press

Expressing the Life of the Spirit: Rabbi Karyn Kedar on ‘Amen’

Rabbi Karyn D. Kedar is the author of Amen: Seeking Presence with Prayer, Poetry, and Mindfulness Practice, published by CCAR Press. In this interview, she shares the inspiration and process of writing the book, and how it can be part of a mindfulness practice.

What inspired you to write Amen: Seeking Presence with Prayer, Poetry, and Mindfulness Practice?

I have always had an active inner life—curious about the spirit, wondering about the magical beauty in the natural world, observing how people interact, and contemplating the connection between it all. As the years went on, I became a lifelong student of the spirit. Amen is the poetic and prayerful expression of my inner life, turning the inner monologue into a dialogue with students, readers, and seekers.

How did you approach the writing process?

I am what is called an iterative or discovery writer. That is to say, I do not write from an outline. Rather, I begin my writing practice by quieting down; most often sitting quietly, reading poetry, or philosophical thought. I light candles and make my writing space serene and beautiful. And then magic happens. The muse stirs, and without hesitation, I follow her lead. But there are many days where writing is simply hard work, one word at a time. One sentence. A practice that demands the determination not to walk away and simply push through. Either way, for me, writing is part compulsion and part practice and all parts love.

Amen is your second book with CCAR Press. How does it differ from your first book, Omer: A Counting?

The counting of the Omer is a spiritual practice that lasts seven weeks. The book offers original writing and secular writing, which walks us through seven spiritual principles— decide, discern, choose, hope, imagine, courage, and pray—that, when practiced, can help us move from spiritual construction to personal freedom. Amen has two sections. The first section has prayers and poems that give voice to the inner life. The second section offers techniques for spiritual practice.

How do you recommend that readers use Amen? How can they incorporate it into a mindfulness practice?

I invite you to read as I write—in a nonlinear manner. Find a quiet moment, a peaceful corner, and randomly open the book. Let the prayer find you. Linger with the words, the images. Ask why this piece found you. What is its message in this moment? Or, use it as a reference. If you need a poem about peace, look it up; if you’re going to a meeting and need an opening prayer, it’s in the book. Let the poems be your companion as you search for the words to describe the life of the spirit.

Rabbi Karyn D. Kedar is an author, poet, spiritual counselor, inspirational speaker, and rabbi emerita at Congregation B’nai Jehoshua Beth Elohim in Deerfield, IL. She is the author of Omer: A Counting and Amen: Seeking Presence with Prayer, Poetry, and Mindfulness Practice, both from CCAR Press.

Categories
Rabbinic Careers Rabbinic Reflections

Rabbinical ‘Re-tire-ment’: A Perspective for Retirees and Successors 

Rabbi Fred Guttman (left) with his successor, Rabbi Andy Koren, at a civil rights rally in Raleigh, North Carolina.

Summer is often when many congregational rabbis begin new jobs, while others choose this time to retire. Here, Rabbi Fred Guttman shares insight into how retired rabbis can stay connected to rabbinic successors while enjoying retirement.

I was ordained in 1979 and retired three years ago at the age of sixty-nine.  

I believe that in retirement, I have learned some very practical lessons that might apply to others. Here are nine reflections on retirement and succession: 

  1. Retirement is not the end of life. It is literally a time when you “put new tires on the car” (re-tire-ment!) and go someplace, whether literally or figuratively. 

  2. In retirement, realize you have a finite amount of time before you or your partner/spouse gets sick. Therefore, every day is precious! Carpe diem! 

  3. Find something or some things to do in retirement. Embrace them with the same gusto, strength, and dedication you had when working. In my case, I have led two trips of public-school Holocaust teachers to Poland, taught a college course, and became a member of the North Carolina Democratic Party State Executive Committee. 

  4. Travel. Travel frequently. And extend your stay if you can afford it. My wife and I have been spending lots of time in Atlanta and Israel, where we have kids and grandkids. 

  5. Speaking of grandchildren, if you are blessed to have them, cherish them! Hug and kiss them and enjoy every moment that you have with them! 

  6. Try to cultivate a good relationship with your successors. Do not get in their way.  Give them the benefit of the doubt. They will do things differently. Realize that some of those things might actually be better!  

    Try as hard as you can to cultivate this friendship. In my case, this was easy because my successor and I worked together for eighteen years, and outside of my family, I still consider him to be my best friend! 

  7. To clergy successors: If the emeritus(a) clergy is still in town, ask him/her to do something occasionally. It doesn’t have to be much. It could be an adult study class or an occasional sermon. Invite them to give a tribute or eulogy along with yours at the funerals of our friends. These things make us feel useful and build on our friendship with you! Remember that the previous clergy still might have connections in the community and that they might have been and still could be an important part of the community. 

  8. “Respite for Ravs”: I believe that the last few years have been the most difficult years in the rabbinate that I have ever seen. From Covid, to sociological changes in the American Jewish community, to October 7, rabbis serving congregations have had to face incredible challenges. Many of our younger colleagues are really stressed out. Therefore, I propose that as retirees, we offer a program called “Respite for Ravs.” The program would suggest that a serving rabbi literally take the Shabbat/ weekend off and the retiree would cover in the congregation for no charge or honorarium. For rabbis in remote areas, the congregation would be expected to cover travel expenses. Doing this could give our stressed out colleagues a much-needed short break. Retired rabbis can also apply to join the Reform Movement’s Small Congregations Clergy Collaborative or apply to become an interim rabbi.

  9. World Zionist Organization (WZO) Election: In the last elections, our slate garnered 31,000 votes. While this may sound like an impressive number, in actuality, it is quite low. We can do better! I suggested to Rabbi Josh Weinberg, the Vice President of the URJ for Israel, that we find fifteen to twenty retirees who could become regional captains for a “get-out-the-vote” (GOTV) campaign. Colleagues would be in touch with serving rabbis, offering encouragement, advice, and materials with the goal being to at least double our votes in the upcoming election. If interested, please contact Josh or me.  

    It is now time for the younger generation of clergy, politicians, and others to take over. Our generation did as well as we could. 

I really love the Jewish concept called the “chain of tradition,” which as you know is based upon a tradition from the first Mishnah in Pirkei Avot:  Moses received the Torah from Sinai and gave it over to Joshua. Joshua gave it over to the Elders, the Elders to the Prophets, and the Prophets gave it over to the People of the Great Assembly.  

Every generation receives tradition and wisdom from the past, but eventually a new link in the chain needs to be created and a new generation needs to take over.   

The “chain of tradition” will always need to add a new link. As retirees, we should welcome it and help in any way possible to make the new link as strong as possible!   

Rabbi Fred Guttman in June 2024, teaching 36 public school teachers from North Carolina at the site of the Ghetto Wall in Krakow Poland. 

Fred Guttman (HUC-JIR NY ‘79) served as Senior Rabbi of Temple Emanuel of Greensboro, North Carolina from 1995 to 2021.