Category: Israel

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Convention Israel

Balancing Self Preservation and Justice

I attended the Pre-Convention morning studying at the Shalom Hartman Institute with Yossi Klein Halevi on Tuesday.

The Jewish people read a lot of text. We do this to remember our history, to study our most important values, and because text both ancient and modern can help to reveal ourselves to ourselves. Tuesday morning Yossi Klein Halevi helped us explore the competing values of “Remember you were strangers ” which teaches us that we may not be brutal, and “Remember what Amalek did to you…,” which teaches us that we shouldn’t be naive.

On the surface it may not be clear how these values may compete, but when we read them with an eye towards the relationship between Israelis and Palestinians we begin to see how hard it may be to find a balance. We, the Jewish people must not behave in a brutal way. We must not oppress the stranger, we must love our neighbor as ourselves, and yet when we have a long and difficult relationship with our neighbor, with the people we share land with, how can we forget, how can we love when we understand that this relationship is not so easy. How can we both avoid naïveté and brutality with the neighbor and the history that we have.

Through chevruta and with the larger group we examined multiple texts with an eye toward finding a balance both between brutality and naïveté and between self-preservation and justice.

For me the stand out text was was a poem by Uri Zvi Greenberg, “Holy of Holies.” Written in the early 1950’s, this poem is a conversation between Uri and his mother who was killed in the Holocaust. In it she says to him, “And even when the Redeemer comes, and the nations shall beat their swords into/ pruning-hooks and throw their rifles into the fire–/ you will not, my son, you will not!/ …Lest the nations arise again and gather iron/ and rise against us again and we will not be prepared/ as we were not prepared until now!” He posits that the Holocaust or all of Jewish history teaches us that even after the messiah comes we can not lower our guard because the nations will always come for us. And so we will always wear our uniforms and carry our weapons or we risk history repeating once again.

And yet, we must love our neighbors as ourselves. We must love ourselves, we must love our neighbors and we must do these things in equal measure.

I do not know if balancing justice with self-preservation, or brutality with naivete, or even self love with neighbor love will bring the coming of the messiah or even just peace in the Middle East, but I  would like to see us continue in this struggle. It’s a good one.

—

Rabbi Elizabeth Dunsker serves Congregation Kol Ami in Vancouver, Washington.

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Convention Israel

Past, Present, and Future: My Day at HUC-JIR

It has been 12 years since I was a first-year student on the HUC-JIR campus in Jerusalem, but the moment I walked up the steps to 13 King David Street this morning, it felt like I had never left.   There were familiar faces, and new faces, but the stones felt the same underneath my feet, a walk through the library brought many memories to mind, and the music of tefillah stirred my soul.

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I started the day by joining in prayer with Israeli rabbinical students for Shacharit.  I did not attend very many services with Israeli rabbinic students during my Year in Israel, so I was grateful to have the opportunity to do so today.  After tefillah ended, we were treated to talks by two up-and-coming scholars from the Jerusalem campus.  Dr. Yifat Teharani taught us about biblical archaeology, focusing on the surprisingly multicultural nature of the desert society during the First Temple period (i.e. between the 6th and 8th centuries BCE).  Dr Dalia Marx taught us about the Cairo Geniza, and the ways in which some of the Geniza’s liturgical texts have begun making their way into contemporary uses.   Although the talks were different in tone and field of study, the themes were similar – reflecting on what we know of the past and how a deeper understanding of it can enrich the present and future of the Jewish state and the Jewish people.

FullSizeRender (1)We ate lunch with the Israeli rabbinical students, and I had the pleasure of connecting with several different students.  It turns out that one of them – Noa – is planning to do her final project at HUC on the intersection of dance and Judaism, and that is a topic that I’m particularly passionate about, too.  In fact, part of what brought me to Israel for this trip is a project I’m doing as part of the Covenant Foundation’s Pomegranate Prize.  I am spending a few additional days in Israel exploring the role of dance in modern Israeli society, including taking a Gaga class – not the children’s game we call “gaga,” but a unique dance form that was developed in israel and is now taught around the world.  I also spent a day at the International Dance Village, which is home to about 80 dancers from Israel and around the world who have come there to live and to dance.  It was exciting to meet Noa at HUC and discover that we share an interest in the integration of dance into Jewish life!IMG_9494

After lunch we were treated to more inspiring speakers and teachers, as we learned about the work of Dr. Ruhama Weiss and the pastoral care program on the Jerusalem campus, along with Dorit and Vivian of the amazing inter-religious “Healing Hatred” program that is sponsored by HUC. Dorit is a (Jewish) Israeli woman and Vivian is a Palestinian woman, and they help to lead an innovative year-long pastoral training program that brings together Israelis and Palestinians to address conflict-related trauma with the tools of spiritual care.

When I felt like there couldn’t possibly be anything more inspiring than the work of Healing Hatred, we were introduced to two students who are almost finished with their studies in the Israeli rabbinic program.  Tamir Nir grew up in a Sefardic masorti (traditional) family in Jerusalem and then moved with his parents to Gush Etziyon (i.e. a Jewish settlement in the West Bank) when he was 10 years old.  He is now not only a soon-to-be Reform Rabbi – which is remarkable enough given his background – but he is also the current Deputy Mayor of Jerusalem.  He spoke beautifully about the challenges faced by Jerusalem’s city council, including the challenges inherent in trying to provide provide better municipal services to residents of East Jerusalem, and the connections he sees between his role as a liberal / Reform rabbi and his day-to-day work as the Deputy Mayor.  We also met Yael Karrie, who works with Jewish and Arab communities in the Negev, along the border with Gaza.  She has created a number of programs to build bridges between people, including InLight, in which congregations throughout Israel joined hands with their Arab and Bedouin neighbors last December to “bring in the light” through a variety of programs meant to promote a shared society.IMG_8180

Overall I feel like this blog has been one big info-mercial for various people and organizations, but the truth is that today felt like a giant dose of IMG_8186 (1)inspiration as a result of what is happening at HUC in Jerusalem and by HUC’s faculty and students.  The first two professors who gave talks about their academic specialties also spoke about how their work is linked to outside projects that are aimed at bettering Israeli society (Dr. Teharani founded a Scouts program in South Tel Aviv for children of immigrant, refugee, and migrant-worker families; Dr. Marx is working on the creation of a new liberal siddur for Israelis).  We closed the day with a mincha service led by the first-year cantorial students, and a rousing, uplifting rendition of Oseh Shalom captured my feelings perfectly – that although I came to Israel feeling great despair over the state of affairs in this country, today’s experiences at HUC gave me a renewed glimmer of hope and optimism about the possibilities for the future.

—

Rabbi Nicki Greninger is the Director of Education at Temple Isaiah in Lafayette, CA.  This is Rabbi Greninger’s first CCAR Convention.

 

Categories
Convention Israel

Looking Forward to 2016 and #CCAR16

As I turn the page in the calendar to 2016, I like to see what lies ahead for me in this secular New Year, and what it is I’m looking forward to experiencing.  Just around the corner on February 23-28, I’m excited to travel to Israel for the CCAR convention. While I have led trips to Israel, I’ve not been to a CCAR convention in Israel since 1995. As a participant I’m anticipating the potential opportunities for spiritual growth both professionally and personally.

One part of this Israel convention which I am most looking forward to is interacting with colleagues, especially our Israeli colleagues, and exploring the country together with them.  So infrequently do we get a chance to be with so many Israeli Reform rabbis.  Side by side we will have the opportunity to speak with them about Israeli Arabs, Palestinians, Settlements, ultra-Orthodox, gender gaps, or environmental issues. We will also travel to different parts of the country to meet with Israelis who will teach us about their first hand experiences in these areas.  With our Israeli colleagues we’ll explore the country and learn.

Another part of #CCAR16 which I eagerly await is Shabbat. Unlike other CCAR conventions, we get to share Shabbat together when our convention is in Israel.  On Friday night for our Shabbat worship we’ll have the opportunity to travel to one of our Israeli colleague’s congregations and participate.  We’ll experience firsthand how Progressive Israelis observe Shabbat. With our Israeli colleagues and their communities, we’ll pray and celebrate Shabbat.

When we journey to Israel, it’s not so much the sites we see, as the people and the mifgashim (encounters) we share.  I’m ever reminded of this at the end of Yehuda Amichai’s poem, Tourists.

Once I sat on the steps by agate at David’s Tower,
I placed my two heavy baskets at my side. A group of tourists
was standing around their guide and I became their target marker. “You see
that man with the baskets? Just right of his head there’s an arch
from the Roman period. Just right of his head.” “But he’s moving, he’s moving!”
I said to myself: redemption will come only if their guide tells them,
“You see that arch from the Roman period? It’s not important: but next to it,
left and down a bit, there sits a man who’s bought fruit and vegetables for his family.”

The CCAR convention takes place in Israel once every seven years; don’t miss it this year. Come explore, learn, pray, celebrate Shabbat and be open to the potential to grow professionally and personally.  Click here to register.

—

Rabbi Amy L. Memis-Foler serves Temple Judea Mizpah in Skokie, IL.

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Israel resolutions

One Resolution, Many Voices

The CCAR Board recently adopted a comprehensive resolution entitled, “CCAR Declaration of Love for the State of Israel and Its People.” As chair of the Resolutions Committee, I was responsible for shepherding the process of developing an idea into a proposal fit for the Board’s consideration.

Toward the end of debate, hours before the Board approved the final, amended resolution, one Board member referred to the document as “polyglot.” Thin-skinned and exhausted at the climax of an arduous process, I took that characterization as an epithet. I was wrong. What our colleague meant was that the resolution reflected many voices. The resolution finds its greatest strength in being multi-vocal.

This Resolution began with the submission of a proposal, “End the Occupation,” by Rabbi Hillel Gamoran, co-signed by a large number of colleagues.

The Resolutions Committee considered that proposal carefully during two successive meetings. After the first, I presented it to the Board, with the recommendation that the Resolutions Committee propose a more comprehensive resolution, to address the issues raised by Rabbi Gamoran and others. By that time, CCAR leadership and I had reviewed our existing resolutions on Israel — notably a comprehensive piece, “Where We Stand on Israel,” a 2002 statement in need of replacement. The Board asked the Resolutions Committee to proceed.

A long drafting and consultation process ensued. Colleagues who lead ARZA, MARAM, and the CCAR Israel Committee were intimately involved. Colleagues from across the ideological spectrum were asked to review drafts, and none were shy about offering suggestions. ARZA leadership reminded us to be careful, given that we treasure Israeli colleagues and cherish a growing Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism. We knew that; after all, we had already consulted the chair of MARAM. Still, the delicacy of our task was brought home to us very clearly.

At one point, a colleague consulted by our President, Denise Eger, submitted a complete re-write, which didn’t change the substance of the proposal, but which was better written, strengthening its voice. I substituted that version for the one with which I had been working, changing it only in ways that were necessary to maintain the support of our key partners.

Throughout the process, Denise Eger, Steve Fox, and I were mindful of the large number of colleagues who had signed onto the earlier proposal that Hillel Gamoran had placed before us. A Resolutions Committee member who lives near Rabbi Gamoran repeatedly brought him drafts, inviting input, which was carefully considered. (To cite only one example, at Rabbi Gamoran’s suggestion, the phrase “Occupied Territories” was included in two places.) Naturally, not all of the input we received, from Rabbi Gamoran nor anyone else, from across the ideological spectrum, could be accepted.

Throughout the process, I adopted a philosophy about suggested edits: Unless I absolutely couldn’t make a suggested change, I accepted it. Working in Word, the function I used the most was “accept insertion (or deletion).” I rejected only edits which violated my arcane sense of English grammar and style or which I knew would force our key partners to withdraw support. The process required a level of bitul ha-yesh (getting my own ego out of the way), which isn’t necessarily characteristic of me!

Ultimately, after again considering Rabbi Gamoran’s submission, and much discussion, the Resolutions Committee substituted our own draft for Rabbi Gamoran’s proposal. The Board adopted the Committee’s recommendation with amendments.

The result is long and multifaceted, reflecting the complexity of the issues and the variety of topics addressed. I hope that signatories to Rabbi Gamoran’s proposal will see that concepts they viewed as important are reflected, even as I hope that those who declined to sign with Rabbi Gamoran find the adopted resolution to be a statement that they can support. I note that several issues surely important to signatories of Rabbi Gamoran’s proposal, but not included in it – the status of Reform Judaism in Israel and equality of Israel’s Palestinian citizens, to name just two – are included here. Other issues that the CCAR hadn’t previously formally addressed in a resolution – most notably our rejection of the Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions (BDS) movement – also merited inclusion in this comprehensive document. On that last point, I should add that the Resolutions Committee is now working on a stand-alone resolution on BDS, a topic that requires greater exploration than it has received in the past, too extensive to fit into our “Expression of Love for the State of Israel and Its People.”

I have chaired the Resolutions Committee off and on for many years – too many, in fact; but that’s a subject for another day. I mention my longevity in this role here only to emphasize that I have never steered a process that invited the interest of so many CCAR members, or one that included so many voices in both the drafting process and the final product.

Otto von Bismarck observed, “Laws are like sausages; it is better not to see them being made.” I used this metaphor a few times toward the end of the process described above, lamenting that I had been “standing over the sausage grinder for a couple of months.”

Upon reflection, though, our resolution reminds me less of sausage than of chocolate cake made with orange juice. I don’t understand how orange juice is in some chocolate cake recipes; but I know that, when it is, the cake is delectable. Standing over a mix-master can be tiring, and one never knows how the cake will turn out. Still, adhering to a recipe that assures that the cake will rise, while remaining open to innovation, can produce a delicious cake.

—

Rabbi Barry Block serves Congregation B’nai Israel in Little Rock, Arkansas.

Categories
Convention Israel Rabbis Reform Judaism

How Do Israelis Do It? – Getting Ready for #CCAR16

I often ask myself, how do Israelis maintain balance in life?  Israeli life is filled with political unrest and social stress in addition to work and family transitions that have their own challenging rhythms.  So yes, how do Israelis do it? Come to the 2016 CCAR Convention (#CCAR16) from February 23-28, and you will learn how Israelis do it.

Join your colleagues as we explore the various ways that Israeli society responds to the question, “How do Israelis do it?”   How do Israelis cope with the ongoing psycho-social-spiritual battery of one on one physical combat and warfare? How do Israelis cope with significant physical injury and post traumatic stress?

Learn from shared real experience and select a couple sessions from these options:

  • Meet Etgarmin heroes and learn of their life challenges.
  • Dialogue with JDC representative who guide the Ruderman Disability Awareness and Inclusion program.
  • Interface with the leadership of the Israel Center for the Treatment of Psycho-trauma and learn how they frame their values and practice.
  • Examine the creative contemporary healing function of Mikvah in Israeli society.

You could walk or run the Tel Aviv Marathon, half marathon, 10K, or 5K. Every rabbi who participates in the run/walk has the opportunity raise significant money to benefit Reform Judaism throughout Israel.  Together we will make a significant statement about our commitment to Israel, while supporting it financially.  CCAR is also offering a scholarship, applicable final_rotatortoward airfare and/or hotel costs, of up to 10% of the amount raised in your name.

Or, you could select another option and participate in the wellness track, which includes early morning meditation, yoga, or Tai Chi by the sea, followed by a face to face psycho-social-spiritual conversation.  You will walk away refreshed and renewed by the energy and passion of Israeli social services that speak with heart and soul.

On a personal note, after the conference, I’m riding with the Riding4Reform cycling experience that allows you to experience the land and people close up and personal. It is also a wonderful way to contribute to the Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism.  Find me at riding4reform.org to sponsor me – or join me!

—

Rabbi Karen Fox has been named Rabbi Emerita at Wilshire Boulevard Temple in Los Angeles, California.

Categories
Convention Israel

Showing Up – Now more than Ever

This February the CCAR will be convening in Israel.  While it’s always a good time to go to Israel, this February offers an especially important and unique opportunity to spend time together in Israel as colleagues, as students and as hovevei Tzion. In case you are still deliberating the costs and benefits of participating in this seminal sabbatical experience, I would like to offer three specific reasons why I think you should join us in Israel this February.

1. You need it. Being a one-in-seven year experience, this convention provides you with a unique opportunity to be exposed to cutting edge learning, leadership and the program being offered allows you as a rabbi to encounter and process complex issues in a collegiate environment in which to process and air feelings, discuss frustrations and digest the daily trials and tribulations facing Israel and the Jewish people. These days in Israel will doubtless afford us a high level of professional development and enrichment to last the whole year.

2. Your community needs you to have these experiences.  I don’t have to tell you that for many in our movement, Israel is the source of great debate, controversy and even despair. I also don’t have to remind you that for many congregants, you are the source, authority and expert on all things Jewish – including Israel.  Which is why coming now will give you the opportunity to report back and share the rich and important encounters, meetings, briefings, study sessions and experiences with your congregants, boards, staffs and community members. They are in desperate need of first hand, beyond-the-headlines accounts of the exciting changes that are happening in the Israeli Reform movement, innovative ways of learning Torah, governmental and parliamentary deliberations and all that we are doing to combat the worrisome trends that are oft-mentioned in the media.  Your congregations, organizations, Hillels, and staffs need you to be their emissaries and bring back a real and meaningful account of experiences that are only available to this sort of a convention.

3. Israel needs you. This past year we worked very hard (with much gratitude to all of our rabbis for supporting, pushing and campaigning) to ensure that ours was the largest delegation to the World Zionist Congress.  We wanted the Government of Israel and the rest of the world to see that the Reform movement cares deeply and passionately about Israel and has come out in droves during this difficult time.  We did that, and let me assure you that our presence is felt.  In a world where headlines fade quickly, we need to do all that we can to demonstrate to both the Government and people of Israel that we are committed and invested in the future of Israel and in our movement’s relationship with her.  Only a strong showing of our rabbinic leadership will demonstrate that commitment and will send the message that we are strong, dedicated and will not pass up the opportunity to stand as a collective body of rabbis to hear and be heard.

I look forward to spending time, learning and experiencing with all of you in just a few short months!

—

Rabbi Josh Weinberg is the President of ARZA, the Association of Reform Zionists of America

Categories
Death Healing Israel

Letter from Jerusalem: Love must win 

Thursday, July 30 was planned as a day of celebration of tolerance and acceptance, a day to embrace difference, a day to lift up diversity and cooperation in Israel’s capital as the municipality hosted Jerusalem’s gay pride parade. I arrived in Jerusalem and was delighted to see rainbow flags lining some of the main streets. Near the American Embassy a huge banner declared, in English letters, “LOVE WINS!” The message was repeated in languages from the region and from across the world.

When evening fell and the heat of the day dissipated, we learned of the twin acts of terror that crushed the hopes with which the day began. Eighteen month old Ali Dawabsheh was burned to death in his Duma home by ultra religious Jewish terrorists. One hour away, Shira Banki, walking with friends and classmates in Jerusalem’s gay pride parade, was stabbed by a man who had been released weeks earlier after serving ten years in prison for a similar attack on the 2005 Jerusalem parade. Shira died three days later. Ali’s father, Sa’ad died ten days later. Ali’s mother and 4 year old brother are being treated for major burns, and five other marchers are recovering from stab wounds.

The handwritten sign on the Banki’s door announced shiva from 10 a.m. until 10 p.m. On Thursday, August 6th, we were the first to enter the shiva house. At first, we did not realize that we had been welcomed by Mika, Shira’s mother, because she seemed so young herself. “We are private people,” she said. “We asked that there be no press at the funeral, and none at the shiva, and they have been very respectful.” We leaned in to hear her as others joined us in the garden, a gracious outdoor space shared by the residents of the apartment building. “We recently celebrated our son’s Bar Mitzvah here. As we sat here, we realized it is a lovely space for a wedding. Perhaps, one day, Shira’s wedding. Here we are, with guests and tables filled with food, but this is not a wedding…”

We came with a gift, a book of 1720 signatures and notes of condolence from across the world, collected by the Israel Religious Action Center. Anat Hoffman, the Center’s director, had written Shira’s name on a stone that Shira’s mom held in her hand as she spoke. “The shiva is allowing me an additional week of not comprehending what has happened. Shira is the eldest of our four children. Our house is always open, always filled with our children and their friends. We raised our children to be open, to find their own voice, to walk their own path.”

We sat with Mika, we, four women who have also raised children, three of us now grandmothers. We came as representatives of thousands of others like ourselves who are stunned by the violence that, in one day, shattered the life of many families.

I have visited many shiva houses In the last fifty plus years. I have sat with many who have lost beloveds, both those who have suffered a sudden loss, and those who have sat for days and months at the bedsides of dear ones and watched helplessly as their lives slipped away.

As we sat in the Banki’s garden, we felt Shira’s absence and her presence. The photos of Shira introduced us to a smiling, engaged young woman, who would have celebrated her sixteenth birthday in three months.

This will be the third Shabbat since these twin attacks. When Shabbat ends, Jews across the world will welcome the month of Elul. Our tradition teaches the power of this last month of the year in which we prepare for Rosh HaShanah. Aleph, Lamed, Vav, Lamed, the four letters of the Hebrew name of the month, echo the words of the Song of Solomon, the Song of Songs: Ani L’Dodi V’Dodi Li: I am My Beloved and my Beloved is mine.

How can we love in the shadow of hate? Each new year we are challenged to Choose Life. Our tradition invites us to acknowledge our own fears of death when we sit with the bereaved. This is how we choose life.

Our Judaism urges us, even in the presence of senseless hatred, to affirm love. Ani L’Dodi V’Dodi Li.We inscribe these words of love on wedding rings and sing them as we celebrate love and commitment. These words direct this month of reviewing our days, reconsidering our choices, reaffirming our commitments.

We choose life when we weave these words into the oft-quoted words attributed to the ancient sage, Hillel: “If I am not for myself, who will be for me? And if I am only for myself, what am I? And if not now, when?”

When love wins, we see that If I am not for myself, I cannot be present for another. When love wins, we understand that when we are only for ourselves, we cannot see even the beloved who is before me. When love wins, we grasp that the time is now. Now is the time to choose life, and love.

Our humanity is absolutely bound up with the humanity of others. There is no room for hate in our fragile, interdependent world. We can transform fear of the other into curiosity, and build respect in the place of ignorance.  There is only one people, one fate, one earth, one destiny. The perpetuation of a fiction of essential otherness is a recipe for annhilation.

Just as Eve and Adam left Eden, we took our leave of the Banki family in their garden. When shiva ended, they, too, left their garden. We must honor the memory of Shira Banki and the memories of Ali and Sa’ad Dawabsheh by choosing life, and love. Love must win.

—

Rabbi Sue Levi Elwell is scholar in residence at Washington Hebrew Congregation. She is also the editor of The Open Door, the CCAR Haggadah (2002).

This blog was originally posted in Washington Jewish Week.

Categories
High Holy Days Israel

Rosh Hodesh Elul at the Western Wall

This was not the first time I spent the night with her. I’ve lost track of the hotels in which we’ve slept. She in her bed and I in mine, I keenly aware of her powerful presence throughout the night.

Yet this was a first for me, and for her. She had been carried into the open plaza hours earlier by another who loves her as I do. Now it was my turn to sit with her, to guard her through the final hours before dawn.

Although we had never met, I located my two sisters in the quiet darkness. They told me how the month before, one of them had accompanied our beloved, but they were forced to leave the plaza at dawn. When our beloved’s followers arrived at the appointed hour to celebrate with her, she sat in a police station, held tightly by a woman who wanted only to protect the beloved. The faithful gathered without her, mourning her absence, determined to find another way to insure her presence next month.

This night and this day would be different. Together, we who love her would return her to the circle of disciples who would arrive in three hours.

We sat close to one another, three women surrounding a scroll that has been carried by our people for thousands of years, over deserts and mountains, across seas, a scroll whose words are inscribed on our hearts. The day before we had begun the portion that includes: “צדק צדק תרדוף you shall, you must pursue justice.” (Deuteronomy 16:20).

Every month, my sisters gather at the Western Wall to welcome the new moon. And every month there are new challenges and obstacles to the pursuit of just, equal access to this ancient sacred space.

Elul is the month of preparation for Rosh HaShanah, a month when Jews immerse ourselves in self reflection, when we consider our deeds of the past year. Every morning during the month of Elul, we sound the shofar to wake ourselves up, to look back with clarity so that we can look forward with compassion and determination. We spent a night of watching so that our sisters could welcome the month of Elul with the Torah as our guide; we accompanied her through the night so would she accompany us through this month of searching and beyond.

Soon after I arrived at the plaza, a policeman stood before us and demanded that we unwrap our precious cargo, that we reveal our beloved. When he saw the Torah, he demanded that we, and that she must leave the plaza. My companions were prepared for this challenge. They called — and woke — the Chief of Police, who told the officer to leave us alone.

It is a rare privilege to experience the arrival of a new day. We sat together, flooded with wonder as the night dissolved into light, shielding our precious legacy. The ancient rabbis, driven by a desire to praise the Holy One at every hour of day and night, were keen observers of the changes of light, and air, and atmosphere as the earth circles the sun. Trembling, we waited for the dawn, and for our sisters.

The women began arriving, donning tallitot and tefillin, exchanging glances of appreciation and concern. Some had been stopped as they entered the plaza because they carried shofarot. Yet each who arrived brought with her the conviction that it is her right, and her responsibility, to raise her voice in prayer, in song, to welcome this month.

My night of watching had come to an end; it was time to return the beloved to her followers. “For from Zion will come the Torah, and God’s word from Jerusalem.” With pride and joy, one of my sisters carried the Torah through our group, and each woman reached out to touch her.

When we unrolled the scroll, our hearts opened. On this first day of this new month, we remembered sixteen year old Shira Banki, who was murdered as she walked in the Jerusalem Gay Pride parade two weeks before. As we lifted the Torah, we called upon her as our tree of life, renewing our commitment to remain firmly planted in our pursuit of justice, in paths of peace.

Every day during the month of Elul, we conclude the morning service by sounding the shofar. Thanks to the determination of several women, and the intervention of the Chief of Police, every woman present was invited to take a turn blowing the ram’s horn. For some, it was a first opportunity to bring this ancient instrument to life. One of us held the Torah close to her heart as she lifted a shofar to her lips  She joined the circle of women who welcomed Elul with cacophonous, piercing, haunting blasts that reverberated across the plaza.

May the shofar’s call wake up each of us, renewing our determination to work for justice and peace in this month of Elul and in the new year, 5776.

—

Rabbi Sue Levi Elwell is scholar in residence at Washington Hebrew Congregation. She is also the editor of The Open Door, the CCAR Haggadah (2002).

This blog was originally posted on The Times of Israel.

Categories
Israel Reform Judaism

Israel at 67- Thoughts

Israel at 67: Two Challenges

Approaching Yom HaZikaron and Yom Haatzmaut, I now mark the second cycle of these Iyyar holidays living in New York.  Last year went by with the curiosity of what happens in the Diaspora – events, celebrations, cocktail parties and lectures.  All nice and impressive, but still lacking. There is no comparison to being in Israel on these days as the entire country kneels down in mourning only to then rise up out of the depths in celebration of what many still do not take for granted – that the dream of an independent sovereign Jewish state is indeed a reality.   During this varying 48-hour experience it is impossible to avoid the mood that sets in throughout the country.  It is impossible to not be enveloped into the national discussion of what it is that those many thousands gave their lives and what we wish for Israel’s future on her birthday.

Peering from abroad as we commemorate and celebrate, we are engaged in two existential debates on the future of the Jewish state both testing the strength of Israel as both Jewish and Democratic.  67 years later there are too many in Israel for whom democracy is increasingly interpreted as being antithetical to Judaism.  Let me be clear, this is both wrong and potentially disastrous for the future of Israel.  It is Israel’s democratic nature that allows it to continue as Jewish.  And this will require a certain sense of maturity and willingness to compromise in order to maintain.  The Jewish state can only remain as such if it remains committed to the principles of democracy (those clearly outlined in the Declaration of Independence.)

On December 21, 1947, Rabbi Yitzhak HaLevi Herzog then Chief Rabbi of the Yishuv (Jewish community living in mandated Palestine, and grandfather of contemporary Zionist Union leader Isaac Herzog) wrote to the Zionist leader Shlomo Zalman Shragai “Blessed be He that we have reached this stage, even though it is still only the beginning of the beginning.”  If we perceive the establishment of the State of Israel to be “Reishit Tzmihat Geulateinu – the first flowering of our redemption” it is upon us to be the pruners and harvesters of the early blossoms that were opened on that fateful day in the month of Iyyar 67 years ago.

Often times nurturing a blossom requires food, water and sunlight and other times pruning requires the necessary awareness to remove a side-ward growing branch – doing so in full knowledge that amputation will foster the survival and thriving of the body.  It was this notion of compromise that led one of our greatest sages Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai to plead “Grant me Yavne and its sages,” as he recognized that the only way that both Am Yisrael and Judaism could survive would be to compromise and to focus on the future.

Today our situation is not dissimilar in which we must make a fateful decision to compromise.  The fact is that most of Israeli society has done this already and has chosen the path of a Jewish and Democratic state over that of holding on to land that like the side-ward growing branch of a plant needs to be cut in order for us to survive.

The second challenge facing our Jewish democracy today that of working to determine which Jewish values we want our state to exemplify and which we don’t.  This must be the imperative for the next seven decades and we have a lot to offer.  Many Israelis are waking up to the reality that having a Jewish State does not necessarily mean that they automatically have a Jewish community.  When I came on Aliyah to Israel, I thought that I had fulfilled my own personal Zionist quest.  Shortly thereafter I realized that there was still a tremendous amount of work to be done.  I realized that for so many the values that I learned growing up in the Reform movement, of welcoming the stranger, tolerance and accepting a multiplicity of observance and Jewish practice, ecology and egalitarianism could be perceived as a threat to the Jewishness of the State.  These values are what makes the largest and most diverse Jewish society on the planet Jewish and we must not accept any dissention from that notion.

What I love about Israel is how intrinsically Jewish it is.  How much thought and creativity come out of Israeli society.  What I also love is that it is malleable, impressionable and very much growing.  I love that Israeli Jews are constantly flocking to create new kehilot and that our movement is at the forefront of creating an Israeli nusah, an Israeli style of Judaism that is authentic, inclusive and is evolving what Judaism is when it comes to social justice, how we relate to the other, and what prayer should be just to name a few.

The story of Israel’s first 67 years is one for the movies. It is full of drama, successes, mishaps and experimentation.  What we need now is to foster that flowering, to recognize and be fully aware that we as passionate and involved American Jews can be involved in this process.  We can have a voice that will resonate.  This year on Yom Haatzmaut I urge you to think about Israel not as a far off place, known often for its conflicts, but as an opportunity.    An opportunity to join together in writing history and helping to set the direction for Judaism for the foreseeable future.  As we the blossoms of that first flowering you can join too simply voting in the elections for the World Zionist Congress and ensuring that your voice is heard.  (www.reformjews4Israel.org/vote)

חג עצמאות שמח!

Please see this “Al HaNissim” prayer for Yom Haatzmaut and feel free to share with your congregations.

עַל הַנִּסִּים וְעַל הַפֻּרְקָן וְעַל הַגְּבוּרוֹת וְעַל הַתְּשוּעוֹת וְעַל הַנֶּחָמוֹת וְעַל הַמִּלְחָמוֹת שֶׁעָשִׂיתָ לָנוּ בַּזְּמַן הַזֶּה.
ביום ה’ באייר חמשת אלפים תש”ח למניין שאנו מונים לבריאת העולם, בעת ההכרזה על הקמת מדינת ישראל, זכה עם ישראל לריבונות על אדמתם ולשליטה על גורלם. על נס הקמת מדינה יהודית באשר היא ראשית צמיחת גאולתינו. מדינה זו באה מתוך קשר היסטורי ומסורתי זה חתרו היהודים בכל דור לשוב ולהאחז במולדתם העתיקה. ובדורות האחרונים שבו לארצם בהמונים, וחלוצים, מעפילים ומגינים הפריחו נשמות, החיו שפתם העברית, בנו כפרים וערים, והקימו ישוב גדל והולך השליט על משקו ותרבותו, שוחר שלום ומגן על עצמו, מביא ברכת הקידמה לכל תושבי הארץ ונושא נפשו לעצמאות ממלכתית. זה יום עשה יהוה נגילה ונשמחה בו כשנאמר: “וְלָקַחְתִּי אֶתְכֶם מִן הַגּוֹיִם וְקִבַּצְתִּי אֶתְכֶם מִכָּל הָאֲרָצוֹת וְהֵבֵאתִי אֶתְכֶם אֶל אַדְמַתְכֶם” (יחזקאל לו, כד( וּלְעַמְּךָ יִשְׂרָאֵל עָשִׂיתָ תְּשוּעָה גְּדוֹלָה וּפֻרְקָן כְּהַיּוֹם הַזֶּה, הִדְבַּרְתָּ עַמִּים תַּחְתֵּנוּ וּלְאֻמִּים תַּחַת רַגְלֵנוּ, וְנָתַתָּ לָנוּ אֶת נַחֲלָתֵנוּ אשר תיקרא “מדינת ישראל”. ולפי כך מדינה זו תהא פתוחה לעליה יהודית ולקיבוץ גלויות; תשקוד על פיתוח הארץ לטובת כל תושביה; תהא מושתתה על יסודות החירות, הצדק והשלום לאור חזונם של נביאי ישראל; תקיים שויון זכויות חברתי ומדיני גמור לכל אזרחיה בלי הבדל דת, גזע ומין;  תבטיח חופש דת, מצפון, לשון, חינוך ותרבות; תשמור על המקומות הקדושים של כל הדתות. יְהִי-שָׁלוֹם בְּחֵילֵךְ שַׁלְוָה בְּאַרְמְנוֹתָיִךְ.

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CCAR Convention General CCAR Israel News Rabbis

Celebrating the Class of 1965: Fifty Years and a Lot Has Happened

Rabbi William Cutter

At the upcoming CCAR Convention, we will honor the class of 1965, those who have been CCAR members and served our movement for 50 years. In the weeks leading up to convention, we will share and celebrate the rabbinic visions and wisdom of these members of the class of 1965 and their 50 years in the rabbinate.

Fifty Years and a lot has happened… “I am closer to death today than I was to puberty as an infant.  What a chilling thought for one with a couple of diseases knocking on the door.”

“Hamishim Shana, Uchmo shenohagim lomar:  Ken Mashehu Kara beintayim ba’olam.”  Lea Goldberg wrote lines like this about lovers re-meeting after “twenty years.”  Yes, something has happened in the meantime.

Fifty years is longer than Goldberg’s lovers’ hiatus, but I experience the same astonishment about time’s way of confounding us.  I entered College just after Brown vs. the Board of Education, which occurred shortly after Campy and Jackie Robinson were allowed to stay at the Chase Hotel in St. Louis as long as they didn’t swim in the hotel pool.  I went to a fancy college “un-prepped” (both literally and figuratively) and—since there weren’t any “preparatory” schools for seminary, I entered HUC with little thought about getting ready.  My main motive, I think, not cultural-ethnic, to be a kind of Jewish Unitarian, but I left with deep ties to Israeli life and Hebrew culture.  I began to serve my “Unitarian” self some years after ordination when a surprise illness drove me into self-care and attention to people who needed attention as they entered their own worlds of illness.  Just as apparently good things sometimes have unintended problem consequence, so may the bad things that happen yield fresh life and important achievement.

And that became the two sides of my rabbinate:  vigorous, I hope “progressive” attachments to the Jewish nation (my parents called them “pinko”) and a dedication to the problems people experience as they go through their journeys into the world of illness.  So I retired from HUC (a partial retirement, I hasten to add) as a teacher of Hebrew literature and as a trainer of hospital chaplains.  The Kalsman Institute, established by our friends the Levy – Kalsmans, urged me on in the pastoral direction, hard work, and (frankly) batting a little over my head, led me to a life of scholarship about matters Hebraic and literary. I have enjoyed my scholarship, although living in Hollywood has made me aware that more people read a stray blog in one day than have read all of my hundreds of essays over 50 years.   Along the way I helped HUC California grow with a school of education, a school of Jewish studies, and a museum education program that flourished and grew many heads.  A full rabbinical school emerged with a special spirit that maybe I have helped create.

But back to what happened in fifty and more years:  The Civil Rights Movement, our changing relationships with women, The Six Day War, new freedom to Russian Jews, the digital revolution which continues to give me the finger as I try to navigate all the gadgetry that makes life easier and busier.  As with people, progress seems paradoxical, and when I think of Israel’s management of the territory that a few wild eyed dreamers made part of Jewish history, I cry for all we should or might have done as Jews.  But Agnon won a Nobel Prize, and there has been more Jewish American creativity (much of it clumsy but all of it interesting) than I ever imagined when I thought I owned all the creativity that was available.  And the culture that comes out of Israel—good grief, it is amazing, created by geniuses, who are my friends; and scoundrels, most of whom are my opponents (I hope.)

In fact, what I have learned in fifty years is how deceptive people can be in the midst of their goodness; and how many great victories are won at a huge cost to others. Some of the good people:  My first rabbis as a rabbi, Leonard Beerman (z’l), and Sandy Ragins, my first boss (with whom I had a problematic relationship, but who was a major and gracious mentor) Alfred Gotschalk (z’l), the funky but wonderful Ezra Spicehandler, and complex Gene Mihaly (both separated out to death), and many others including my own unruly, gutsy and generous father.

A couple of years ago Hara Person asked me to reflect on my retirement for a little squib in the Newsletter.  I look back at what I wrote then and realize that I was too sanguine.  I retired voluntarily, and enjoyed some great years on account of that; but had I known how well I would manage cancer, heart disease, and a tendency to broken bones, and how I would deal with those unmentionable deep dark things of the soul, how much energy I have, and how attached I was to the institution that made my professional life possible, I would not have taken the deal.  Anyone want to hire a near 80 year old?

Is everything built out of contradictions?  I don’t know, but sometimes I think so.  I am a kosher man (a la Yehuda Amichai, another mentor); I am a kosher man whose soul is cleft and because my soul is parted I seem to be better able to stand.  Chewing the cud is like regret — that other part of Kashrut.   It’s not the best part of my game, but it works for me.

But who would dare regret American efforts at civil equality for minorities and a different consciousness about women; who can regret the multiplicity of Jewish voices that one would not even have dreamt of 50 years ago (although it too has been mixed with some issues) who can regret the privilege during those fifty years to serve people, to teach young students aspiring to be old (some day) just like us? And who would ever regret a life of friendships, a marriage that finds me looking forward to seeing my partner every morning! And who would hesitate for one moment to smile as my wonderful son and colleague daughter in law send pictures of the (belatedly wonderful) little boy who bears my father’s name.

I do “regret” (but it’s the wrong word) that my father and mother could not live to see that little boy, but—as the sunset and the sunrise never actually meet (that phrase is plagiarized) so it is God’s way that each generation has new interpreters—interpreters whom the old timers aren’t really comfortable with.  I hope little Kobi (Jacob, that is) and the Kobi cognates (my students) will interpret my life as contributing to the great citizens and Jews he and they will become.