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News

Spiritual but Not Religious: How Religion Lets Us Down

141_spiritualnotreligious_wideThe Pew Research Center’s Portrait of Jewish Americans, its survey and analysis of American Jewish attitudes and beliefs, has emerged as THE topic of conversation in the Jewish world. Some celebrate the survey; some wring their hands over what it says about us Jewish Americans.

The Union for Reform Judaism released a preliminary analysis for the Reform Movement.

Jewish Religiosity or Lack Thereof

Most fascinating are questions about the religiosity or lack thereof of our Jewish brothers and sister. According to the study, only a slim majority of U.S. Jews say religion is very important (26%) or somewhat important (29%) in their lives. We might surmise that almost half of the Jews do not consider themselves religious.

In a related category, we see that Jews are not significant worship service attenders. Roughly one-third of Jews (35%) say they attend religious services a few times a year, such as for the High Holidays (including Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur). And four-in-ten say they seldom (19%) or never (22%) attend Jewish religious services.

Similarly, those Jewish practices defined by the study – beyond the popular Passover Seder and, for some, fasting on Yom Kippur – do not attract significant adherents. Only a quarter of Jews (23%) say they always or usually light Sabbath candles, and a similar number say they keep kosher in their home (22%).

Yes, it seems that a vast majority of U.S. Jews consider themselves “spiritual, but not religious.” Just what does this mean?

What’s the Difference Between Being Spiritual and Being Religious?

I think spirituality is the sense that we are all part of something greater. Spirituality can lead to behaviors and thought-processes, which connect us with a larger reality. Spirituality can but does not necessarily include a connection to a higher power or divine.

Now religion is a collection of beliefs, rituals, and prayers intended to help people retain a feeling of connection to an intensive spiritual encounter. Religion aims to connect us with our spirituality. For Jews, our Torah teaches that generations ago, our people – the children of Israel, the Jewish people – had a spiritual encounter with the Holy One that embedded within us a clear sense of who we were and how we should live forevermore.

Jewish rituals are intended to lead us back to the central experience of the Exodus from Egypt and our later spiritual encounter at Mt. Sinai. Jewish religious prayers return us to these spiritual events, as well as our arrival into the Promised Land, and our covenant with God.

Religion Sometimes Spoils Spirituality

So why do so many people say they are spiritual but not religious? Religion can be its own worst enemy. Sometimes religion just gets in the way of the spiritual quest. When the religious rituals become overly dry and ritualistic, they tend to suck life out of a potentially spiritual moment. When religious leaders become overly concerned about saying just the right prayer or about standing in exactly the right position when they pray, our traditions can strangle the spirituality right out of us.

I don’t believe that God cares how big our sukkah is or how long we sound the tekiah gedolah on the shofar. Nor does God does ask us to separate out our women, to eschew the non-Jew, or to extend our power over others for so-called holy purposes. Of course, when religious leaders – rabbis, teachers, communal leaders – speak such nonsense in God’s name, they further alienate Jews from the religious part of Judaism that could be strengthening their spirituality.

religionAndSpiritualityDiagramWhat do we do?

Rituals find meaning when they point us back to the holy, the spiritual. Rituals are significant when they inspire our spiritual core.

It becomes the responsibility of religion – and religious leaders – then, to return to Judaism’s roots, to rethink/reform/renew Judaism’s ritual components, and to embrace the holy in the midst of the rest.

How do we do that?

Let us know what you think…

Rabbi Paul Rabbi Paul J. Kipnes is the spiritual leader of Congregation Or Ami in Calabasas, CA.  This post originally appeared on his blog, Or Am I?

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CCAR on the Road Israel News

Traveling with Colleagues: Start Up Israel

In 2010, we had the opportunity of traveling to Israel on an Israel Familiarization Trip.  The trip’s goal was to help us learn how to lead congregational trips.  Rabbis have a dual relationship with Israel, that of student and teacher.  We turned to each other to learn how to bring these two roles together as we toured the country. Many of the sites we visited were ones we had visited on previous occasions.  IMG_4110However, we had to learn to bring these sites to our congregants. 

We discussed the potential for the “Disneylandification” of Israel and how to avoid creating a superficial visit to the country.  We discussed how to intentionally design trips from the ground up to create a unified learning experience for our community.  We discussed how to use the trips to create meaningful ongoing relationships with the country rather than one-time memories.    Each night we prayed together and included in our prayers reflections from the day’s experiences.  By traveling and learning with colleagues this trip provided us to with the tools we would then use to create Israel experiences for our own congregants. 

Additionally, there is a difference between traveling with colleagues and traveling with congregants.  When we travel with congregants, we become the teachers, and the experts, on everything.  Our members turn to us because we have been there more than they have.  When we travel with colleagues, we learn together and reflect with one another.  We can be both the student and the teacher.  We teach and learn with one another and we push each other to think about our experiences in new ways.  Each day we were able to connect with colleagues and build relationships.  Being able to spend time traveling together, talking on the bus, spending meals together, really deepened our sense of community and built collegial relationships among strangers in just a few short days. 

IMG_4198Traveling in Israel is an experience like no other.  We all know that.  Any trip to Israel is rejuvenating; it inspires our Judaism, calls us back to our roots, uplifts us spiritually, offers us a unique experiential and immersive learning opportunity.  We’ve taken those lessons we learned on our first trip together and put them to use- but not in a trip designed for our congregants- rather in a trip designed for you- our colleagues.  We hope you will join with us from January 26-February 5 as we travel together with other colleagues and learn about Start Up Israel.  Together we will push each other to realize how the entrepreneurial culture of Israel can influence our own rabbinates and how we can discover a unique aspect of modern Israel culture.  More information is available on the CCAR website.

We hope you will join with us from January 26-February 5 as we travel together with other colleagues and learn about Start Up Israel.  Together we will push each other to realize how the entrepreneurial culture of Israel can influence our on rabbinates and how we can discover a unique aspect of modern Israel culture.  For more information visit the following website:

See you in Israel in January!

Categories
News Rabbis Reform Judaism

Perspectives on the Pew

And how do we keep our balance? That I can tell you in one word: Tradition!

Fiddler on the Roof 

Is Judaism a religion? Is Jewishness a matter of culture? Are the Jews a nation? These are modern questions….

—Leorah Batnitzky, How Judaism Became a Religion

October 1st was a funny day.  I woke up to a stuffed e-mail inbox filled with messages from family, friends and colleagues, who all sent me a link to the same article in that morning’s New York Times.  The Pew Research Foundation had just published the results of a major population study entitled, “A Portrait of Jewish Americans”, and it seemed everyone wanted to talk about it.  An hour later, when I walked into a meeting at the offices of UJA in White Plains, everyone in a room filled with Jewish professionals either had their nose in the newspaper, or was waving around the front page as we wondered what it all meant.

I imagine the Jewish community will be responding to the data from this survey for quite some time, just as we did following the Jewish Population Studies undertaken by the United Jewish Communities in 1990 and 2000.  But there is one major headline from this survey that I think is more interesting and complex than even the people at Pew realize: the discovery, which represents a significant increase, that 22% of American Jews describe themselves as “having no religion”.  This revelation, as you might imagine, is the source of great consternation in the organized Jewish community.

But this number is not surprising to me, and, in some ways, not even troubling.  I will tell you why.  Often, people come into my office—especially when they are joining the synagogue—so we can begin building a meaningful relationship.  We talk of families, upbringings, relationships with synagogues and much more.  And a line I hear more often than not—importantly, from people who are about to join a temple!—is something along the lines of the following: “Being Jewish is really important to me, but I’m not religious.”  To me, this is the same phenomenon of someone replying, “no” to the Pew poll’s question, “Are you Jewish by religion?”  And to me, for years, this is a fascinating phenomenon.

I have long wondered what it means for a Jew to claim that being Jewish was vitally important at the same time they downplayed the role of religion.  I used to think these people were ceding the definition of “religious” to the Orthodox, and were basically distinguishing themselves from Jews who wear black hats and earlocks, or wigs and long skirts.  But soon I came to realize that something deeper was happening.  As I became more and more comfortable probing the statement “I’m Jewish but not religious” with people, I began to discover (in my very unscientific sampling) that people were expressing either an ambivalence about belief in God or a disconnect from the power of prayer.  Sometimes, “I’m not religious” was code for saying, “Judaism is incredibly important to me, even though I’m not sure I believe in God and don’t really feel anything significant is happening when I sit in the sanctuary for services.”  To my ears, that statement translates as follows: I’m a committed Jew, but no synagogue or individual has ever helped me understand how I can consider myself fully Jewish if I have doubts or reservations about faith and prayer.  And if that’s what people really mean when they say “I’m Jewish but not religious,” then it’s a miracle that only 22% of American Jews feel this way!

jew-overview-2For as long as there has been a Jewish people, Jews have had serious questions and conflicts about faith and prayer.  Pharaoh in Egypt was the first one to call us a people; the same generation he enslaved, once they were free and found themselves at Mt. Sinai meeting God, fell into such a quandary of faith forty days later that they built the Golden Calf.  Before this generation, Abraham—the first Jew—questioned whether God would deliver on the divine promise for a large family, considering Abraham was 100 years old and had no son.  His daughter-in-law Rebekkah, and her daughter-in-law Rachel also confronted God with fundamental, existential anguish.  Our Prophets castigated our ancestors for roughly 200 years of questioning God; our biblical books of Job and Ecclesiastes wonder aloud how anyone can believe in God, given the state of the world.  As much as Jews have been a people of The Book for millennia, so too have we been a people of questioning and doubt, especially regarding the God we call Adonai.

But this lack of faith, or evolving faith of every individual, has done little to stem centuries of Jewish commitment to a Jewish way of life.  Generations of Jews have embraced Torah—literally and figuratively—even though they didn’t necessarily embrace God or prayer at the same time.  Judaism has long been much more about living a certain way of life, following a certain path, halakha, a way of walking through our world, than it has been about subscription to any sort of creed of belief or fidelity.   We are obligated to mitzvot, commandments, even if we have our doubts about Who issued those commands.  Agnostics and athiests light Shabbat candles, lead Passover Seders, and engage in the work of Tikkun Olam as much as do the fully faithful.  Our tradition considers all these people Jews, with no distinction.  They are all part of the Jewish people, regardless of belief.

Importantly, the Hebrew language has no word for “religion”.  The word dat, which is Modern Hebrew for “religion” is in fact a loan word from ancient Persian that snuck itself into the book of Daniel in the mouth of a Persian politician describing our people.  The Hebrew way—and thus authentically Jewish way—to talk about Judaism has nothing to do with religion: we are a people.  We are called Am Yisrael, the people of Israel, or B’nai Yisrael, the children of Israel.  We are a conglomeration of ethics, morals, rituals and practices accumulated by people willing (sometimes in the least friendly of environments) to call themselves Jews.  Princeton Professor Leora Batnitzky rightly teaches us that Jews only began to consider themselves a religion (which is a European, Christian way of understanding faith) when Jews began to live in closer emancipated quarters with non-Jews in the modern age.  Going back through history to Abraham, fewer than 22% of Jews in history would even know what the word religion (in any language) meant, let alone consider themselves “religious”.  Instead, we would likely define ourselves as Tevye did so aptly in the great Broadway musical: we Jews are a tradition.

So I am one Rabbi, and perhaps the only Rabbi, who is not terribly concerned that many modern Jews do not define themselves by a term neither Jewish nor particularly descriptive of Jewish practice: religious.  Instead, I am encouraged that so many Jews (69%) express that leading an ethical life is essential to their Jewishness, that an equal number (70%) attended or hosted a Seder last year, and that more than half (56%) say that working for justice (what we call tzedakah) is core to their Jewish identity.  These Jews are all maintaining Jewish tradition and building their Jewish identity, which has been the real work of our people since the days of Abraham and Sarah.

  Rabbi Seth M. Limmer is rabbi of 
Congregation B’nai Yisrael of Armonk, New York.  

Categories
News Rabbis Reform Judaism

Ode to the Congregational Rabbinate: A Response to the Pew Study

In recent days there has been a disturbing trend in Jewish communal life.   The synagogue is both charged with the future of Judaism and blamed for its decline.  Even in these tempestuous times, I believe, the synagogue is where we continue to nurture and sustain Jewish life.

I recently celebrated ten years in the pulpit and I can tell you that my triumphant moments have not come in single instances of programmatic creativity or sermonic brilliance.  Lasting relationships forged over a decade of shared joy and sorrow are the foundation of my service to the congregation and to the Jewish people.

Rabbi William Braude, the former senior rabbi of Temple Beth-El of blessed memory was a great mind in our tradition.  He marched for civil rights and was a brilliant scholar–you probably have a Midrash collection translated by him on your shelf.  With all of his accomplishments, he never forgot what was most important. Rabbi Braude would often say that, as rabbis, our job is to keep a small flame flickering.

RabbiMack-withTorahWe keep the flame alive when we stand grave side with a widow in a snowstorm with barely a minyan.  Or when we shed a tear at the graduation for a student we have known since consecration.  Or when we rejoice in the new baby of a couple we married.  It is the quiet moments when we connect with our people that actually keep the Jewish people alive. We can call it “engagement” or “relational Judaism,” but the simple (or not so simple) reality of caring for our flocks on a daily basis is what builds meaningful community.

While marching at the statehouse, posting on facebook, or writing books can be nourishing for us–I am not convinced that these activities alone sustain the Jewish people. It is note writing, phone call returning, and  bar and bat mitzvah student meetings that really make a difference.  It may seem mundane in the moment and it certainly isn’t sexy, but it is essential.

A recent article about “boring” High Holy day services caught my attention because it railed against congregational rabbis in our most grueling season.   Amazingly, no one seemed to leap to our defense (probably because rabbis themselves were all too busy writing boring sermons.)

The Pew Study and its aftermath and the New York Times article on the B’nai Mitzvah Revolution simply seem to fuel the fire against congregational rabbis who dutifully serve our people.

There are organizations and newspapers that spill much digital ink ranking the most prominent Rabbis in various lists throughout the year. While this may garner Facebook posts and Tweets galore in the moment, I don’t believe that it does much for the future of the Jewish people in the long run.

Instead, I would like to give a shout out to my unnamed colleagues, classmates and friends.  Let us recognize the committed congregational rabbis who serve our people in the trenches with love and faith.  The rabbis who are there for our people, day in and day out.  The rabbis who are on the bima Shabbat after Shabbat and who still happily greet their community at the oneg.  The rabbis who will answer the call in the hour of need–be it in the hospital, the synagogue or the grocery store.  The rabbis who know your name and that your husband just lost his job or your son was accepted to Yale or your mother was just diagnosed with cancer–and care deeply about you and your loved one.

Those are the rabbis who keep that small flame flickering for the next generation.  Kol hakavod.  I am proud to serve with you.

 Rabbi Sarah Mack serves Temple Beth-El in Providence, Rhode Island.

Categories
Ethics General CCAR News Rabbis Reform Judaism

A Reform Congregation Emerges from the Flood

On Rosh HaShanah we celebrated Creation, and by Yom Kippur we had been hit by the flood.

The deluge began Thursday afternoon.  I posted pictures to Twitter and Facebook, amused by the enormous puddles everywhere.  Two hours later, it was clear that this was no joke.  The four lane road in front of our Congregation, Har HaShem, was now a rushing river. Muddy water poured in everywhere.   Our Executive Director Gary Fifer and I waded through more than a foot of water in the parking lot, grabbed the sifrei torah from the ark, wrapped them in plastic and put them in a high place.  We cut the power and headed for high ground.

IMG_8399The situation at Har HaShem remains critical as we recover from this 500-year flood. In all, we estimate that we sustained about $150,000 to $200,000 worth of damage and we now know that our insurance policy will cover only a tiny fraction of this.  We have established a fund, to which you may donate here (or through our website). Our entire lower level, with eight classrooms, was destroyed. Carpet, drywall, furniture, shelving, school supplies, congregational archives – gone.  Our sanctuary, social hall and South Building flooded as did two residential houses we own.  Our parking lot was covered with inches of mud and debris.

While all of this has been painful and difficult, there were no significant injuries or deaths in the Jewish community. We pray that God grants strength and comfort to the many in the region who have lost so much more.

A little light dispels great darkness, our Sages taught.  Indeed.  Many people have come together to bring the synagogue back to life.  The neighborhood system we created this past year enabled the 30 neighborhood  captains, responsible for creating community and fostering Jewish living in their neighborhoods , to quickly and locally identify need and volunteers.  It was moving to see members in need being helped by neighbor-congregants they may not have known hours before.  At the synagogue itself roughly 50 member volunteers have worked tirelessly to get us cleaned up.  Our Youth Group kids spent the unexpected no-school here, inspiring other volunteers by working their hearts out.  Nechama, a Jewish Response to Disaster, has done untold good in Boulder and have been lifesavers for Har HaShem.  They’re helping us rebuild.

IMG_8277More light: we are a homeless overflow shelter in the winter and summer months and offered several homeless folks who are guests during the year an hourly wage to help downstairs.  We are deeply impressed by their energy and dedication.  My family won’t forget having them over for kiddush and lunch in our sukkah (I live next door to the synagogue) during a lunch break.

The entire Boulder community came together during this crisis.  Students from CU Chabad, members of the neighboring Conservative congregation, whose synagogue was also badly damaged, strangers off the street – so many have reached out.  The Federation has been wonderful, the JCC is by our side, Jewish Family Service has been a lifeline to many.

Several folks from across the country have reached out.  Rabbi Hara Person of the CCAR and Rabbi Jan Offel of the URJ helped us get some books to replace those that were destroyed. Rabbi Deborah Prinz of the CCAR has reached out to help.  And I’ve been so moved that several of you have extended a hand as well.

We have a lot of work ahead.  Most significant is addressing the huge financial setback. If you are moved to donate, you may do so here (or through our website), or through URJ Disaster Relief.  Of course there are other challenges, from finding space for our delayed religious school start, to an overextended staff, to maintaining other programming during the coming weeks.

The deep connections between the creation story of Bereishit and the flood story are well known.  Bereishit Rabbah teaches that initially God’s light was unobscured and could be seen from one end of the earth to the other.  Acts of evil, including those of the generation of the flood, caused that light to be removed and concealed.  Here, in these early days of the new creation of 5774 and in the wake of our flood, we have seen the unmistakable glow of divine light in the many acts of righteousness within our community and from far beyond.   May we be strengthened to rebuild in the coming weeks and months.

Rabbi Joshua Rose is the rabbi of Congregation Har HaShem, in Boulder, CO. 

 

Categories
Immigration News Rabbis Reform Judaism Social Justice

Mi Sheberach for All Immigrants and the Descendants of Immigrants

The following is a Mi Sheberach for a person who immigrated to the United States, to be used on Rosh HaShanah.  The accompanying introduction could be rewritten not for an individual but for all in the sanctuary: “I want to offer this mi sheberach for all who are in our sanctuary who immigrated to the United States and for all who have a parent who immigrated here, or a grandparent or a great-grandparent, or ancestor.  In essence, this mi sheberach is for all of us.”

Introduction.  For the first aliyah we invite (name) for the honor.  We do so not only for (name), but also to recognize him/her as someone who came to America many years ago to escape the horrors of the Shoah, the Holocaust, in Greece and built his/her life here, facing both challenges and successes.  After his/her aliyah, I will offer a mi sheberach for all who are immigrants and all who are the children of immigrants, or grandchildren, or great-grandchildren, or descendants, in essence for all of us.

After Aliyah: Mi sheberach avoteinu v’imoteinu….may God who blessed our immigrant ancestors, who left their homes because of the pain that was known and entered new lands with pains that could not be imagined, who left Egypt, who left Spain and Russia, Iraq, Greece, and Germany, bless you (name), who has come for an aliyah with reverence for God, respect for the Torah and this Yom HaDin, day of Rosh Hashanah.

May God bless you and all who came to America and found refuge, and all of us who immigrated or whose parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, or ancestors came to these shores beckoned by promise, liberty, and opportunity.

In this holy place and time we acknowledge the depth of our connection with our people’s story both ancient and modern.  We remember on this Day of Remembrance, Yom haZikaron, what it was like for us or for our ancestors to immigrate to this country and are mindful of Leviticus’ strong command repeated in similar verse 35 times in Torah: “When strangers sojourn with you in your land, you shall not do them wrong. The strangers who sojourn with you shall be to you as the natives among you, and you shall love them as yourself; for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”  (19:33-34).

We acknowledge on this day that we live in an America where immigration policies are broken.  As we stand today before an open sefer Torah on our holy day—May we remain open to the possibility of comprehensive change in our immigration system.  May we remain open to the suffering of eleven million people who are undocumented, some say illegal, whose lives and whose children’s’ lives are limited every day because of their uncertain status. May we strive to balance our needed protections with their real, daily challenges as we work for clear, empathetic, and realistic policies.

May the Holy One of Blessing inscribe and seal you (name) and all of us into the Book of Good Life, together with all our fellow citizens, all who seek that claim, and all in our communities.  And let us say, Amen.

Rabbi Adam Stock Spilker is the rabbi at Mount Zion Temple, in St. Paul, Minn. 

Sign-on in support of comprehensive immigration reform

There are few issues that confront our country today that are more urgent or compelling than the need to fix America’s broken immigration system. This issue holds deep resonance with both the Jewish experience of migration and our tradition’s sacred texts with their repeated command to love the stranger.

We have set an ambitious goal to obtain signatures from as many rabbis and cantors as possible – of all Movements – on this letter to Congress in support of comprehensive immigration reform
. Please join the over 1,200 of your colleagues who have already added their names. You can sign the letter and find more information at rac.org/clergysignon

Categories
News Rabbis Reform Judaism

Month One: Thoughts from a New Rabbi

I have frequently been telling others that now that I am a rabbi, my dreams have become a reality.  Yet, I’m not quite sure how real this reality feels.  There are days in which I still feel like the student Rabbi who visits his pulpit for the weekend, or the rabbinic intern who has a myriad of responsibilities that exposes him to all aspects of congregational life.  I sometimes have to be reminded that when someone refers to someone as “rabbi,” they very well could be talking about me.   Even with the numerous signs in my synagogue that addresses me as “Rabbi P.J. Schwartz,” I still think I am in the dream and this is not my reality.

During my second unit of CPE, we spoke a lot about the power of a title such as rabbi.  I always asked, “Where does P.J. fit in all of this?”  I have learned that being a rabbi and being P.J. are not separate things, but two aspects of who I am that are inextricably linked together.  In some sense, my name has become my title, and my title as become my name.  Believe it or not, I know which rabbi my administrative assistant is referring to when she speaks about my Senior or I.  “P.J.” and “Rabbi” have become interchangeable terms and I’m getting used to the idea that maybe I am no longer visiting my student pulpit or no longer an intern.

Transitions are difficult, and I can’t deny the fact that transitioning from student to working professional or in my case rabbinical student to Rabbi has been overwhelming and exciting, scary and thrilling, and nerve-wracking and affirming.  As my eyes begin to open, the dream begins to fade, and the reality sinks in, I am constantly reminded of the fact that we are in the month of Elul.  We are supposed to reflect upon our transitions, our growth, and our lesser strengths.  We are supposed to think about what it means to have a support team, reexamining how we manage our time, and explore what we can do to renew ourselves for the year to come.  I’ve always looked at my Judaism as a road map for how I should live.  In this case, my Judaism is guiding me, one day at time, as I fully integrate myself into this new role.  My excitement only grows as we head to the kickoff events of the year and I start to meet more congregants.  Soon enough, the hallways will be filled with kids from the Early Childhood Center and Religious School, my days will be filled with planning meetings, programs, and kids hopefully will be calling me Rabbi P.J.! (which, of course, is my solution to the name and title dilemma).

May my reflections inspire you to reflect in this month of Elul, and may the year to come be as sweet as you want it to be, inspirational as you need it to be, and awe-filled as it can be.

Rabbi PJ Schwartz is Assistant Rabbi at Temple Israel, in Westport, CT.

Categories
Ethics News Prayer Rabbis

No Text is Worth a Life: A High Holy Day Pledge

As we turn to thoughts of a new year and a new start, here is a pledge to refrain from texting while driving. Texting while driving is responsible for a quarter of all car accidents today, and is six times more dangerous than drunk driving. Please share this pledge from the High Holy Day pulpit, or make it part of your personal Rosh HaShanah spiritual preparation. Perhaps be making this verbal oath in a sacred space amidst a community of witnesses, we may contribute to saving lives.

 

Whoever destroys a single soul destroys a complete world.

Whoever preserves a single soul preserves a complete world. – Talmud Sanhedrin 37a

 At this season we ask: who by fire and who by water?

Today we also ask, who by texting while driving?

An epidemic is sweeping our country.

DWI, Driving While In-text-ified causes 1.6 million accidents a year.

Driving While In-text-ified causes 330,000 injuries per year.

Driving While In-text-ified causes 11 teen deaths every day.

75% of teens say Driving While In-text-ified is common among their friends.

Half of young drivers have seen their parents Driving While In-text-ified.

Driving While In-text-ified makes you 23 times more likely to crash.

Driving While In-text-ified slows your brake reaction speed by 18%.

Driving While In-text-ified is the source of nearly 25% of all car accidents.

Driving While In-text-ified is 6x more likely to cause an accident than driving drunk.

Driving While In-text-ified is the same as driving after 4 beers.

Driving While In-text-ified is the same as driving blind for 5 seconds at a time.

At 55 mph, that’s like driving the length of a football field completely blind.

Who by fire, who by water? Who by texting while driving? On this holy day, as we reflect on our deeds and resolve to better ourselves and the world, we invite you to put your hand on your heart and join us by repeating this sacred pledge:

 

We will not Drive While In-text-ified.

We will use only hands-free devices in the car.

No text is worth a life.

No text is worth a life.

No text is worth a life.

We will not Drive While In-text-ified.

יְהִי רָצוֹן מִלְפָנֶיךָ יְיָ אֱלֹהֵינוּ וֵאלֹהֵי אֲבוֹתֵינוּ. שֶׁתּוֹלִיכֵנוּ לְשָׁלוֹם. וְתַצְעִידֵנוּ לְשָׁלוֹם.וְתַדְרִיכֵנוּ לְשָׁלוֹם. וְתִסְמְכֵנוּ לְשָׁלוֹם.

וְתַגִּיעֵנוּ לִמְחוֹז חֶפְצֵנוּ לְחַיִּים וּלְשִׂמְחָה וּלְשָׁלוֹם

 Yehi ratzon milefanecha Adonai Eloheinu veilohei avoteinu v’imoteinu shetolicheinu leshalom vetatzideinu leshalom vetadricheinu leshalom vetismecheinu leshalom vetagi’einu limechoz cheftzeinu lechaim ulesimchah uleshalom.

May it be Your will God of our fathers and mothers that You should lead us in peace and direct our steps in peace, and guide us in peace, and support us in peace, and cause us to reach our destination in life, joy, and peace. Amen.

Rabbi Zoe Klein serves Temple Isaiah in Los Angeles, CA.

Categories
General CCAR News Rabbis Reform Judaism

A Second Act, Again: Reflections of a New Hillel Rabbi

When I left the corporate world as a director at 33 many people wondered why.  I was climbing the ladder, had a great job, good reputation, excellent track record and an exciting life. But my desire to become a rabbi trumped all that and I made a big change to start a “second career.” I not only left my job, I left my entire way of life and my community.  I completely changed my identity from executive expat to start on the path of becoming a Reform rabbi.  After five years at HUC-JIR and 13 years in a wonderful congregation in a small town in Connecticut I had transformed into a congregational rabbi with a solid reputation, a loving community and a sense of accomplishment topped by a beautiful new building. Many would have thought that this would be the time to reap the rewards of one’s hard work and simply enjoy the life I have created. But once again, I have managed to turn my life upside down.

Last month I accepted the position of Executive Director and Senior Jewish Chaplain of Joseph Slifka Center for Jewish life at Yale. This is a Hillel on steroids, with one of the largest staff, budget and scope of activities of any Hillel situated on one of the most prestigious campuses in the world with mind boggling students, faculty and resources. In the same month, I also led a trip to Israel, had rotator cuff surgery, put my house on the market, said good bye to my dear congregation, started my new job at Yale, and prepared to send my first and only child to college.  

Why? Depends on who you ask.  If you ask my all-knowing daughter she would say, “That is what my mom does.  She just does things that don’t seem normal.”  Others might point to the incredible opportunity that this position represents.  Those who know me from my congregation would quickly answer that our rabbi loves working with young people.  Some might find deep psychological explanations dealing with the empty nest syndrome. 

I think of all the responses I have gotten from people the one that had the biggest impact on me was the person who said, “This is really courageous”.  What struck me about his remark was that I had never thought of this decision or any decision I have made as courageous.  I think I am simply being normal. This is what normal means to me- challenge yourself, keep growing, live as if Judaism matters because it does, love people (imperfections and all), carpe diem, try, then try harder, know that you are not alone. 

Growing up, our family’s two core values were adventure and education.  As a family of six we lived and traveled all over the world and my parents were great teachers.  I think a final piece of my legacy that has impacted my decision is that I am now three years older than my sister was when she died, and almost the same age as my mother when she died.  My father also died in his fifties.  So this too I have learned and internalized as a motivating value- life ends. Right in the middle of doing your life, it can be over.  My heightened sense of mortality does not make me morbid, rather it makes me eager, curious, passionate, intense and yes, I guess, fearless. 

Rabbi Leah Cohen is the new Executive Director and Senior Jewish Chaplain at the Joseph Slifka Center for Jewish Life at Yale University. 

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Ethics Immigration News Rabbis Reform Judaism Social Justice

High Holy Day Inspiration from Rabbis Organizing Rabbis

As we enter the month of Elul, we are aware that Tishrei is almost upon us. Sitting in front of our computers, we might think to ourselves “Stop mulling and just write the sermon!” But writing High Holiday sermons really does require that we ponder what to preach. Every year, we ask ourselves the same questions: what message will resonate with our congregants, what are we passionate about saying, and what wisdom do our texts and tradition have to offer us.

This year, there is a new question to add to the list. In the past, I did not think much about what my colleagues were saying in their sermons. I might check in with a few friends, or bounce ideas off some people, but I was never speaking as part of the North American Reform Movement. This year, it will be different.

In 5774, like many colleagues, I will be speaking about the topic of immigration reform. This issue calls to us as Jews. We are immigrants. We fled slavery in Egypt to journey into freedom. More recently my great-grandparents fled the pogroms and mandatory military service in Russia to find a better life here in the United States. We know what it is to wander and to be treated as outsiders.

We also have a chance to make a real difference. The Senate has passed a comprehensive immigration reform bill. The House will be debating moving a bill to the floor in September, perfect timing for us to have an impact. Imagine what hundreds of rabbis can do together as we preach or teach about immigration reform this High Holidays.   

I’m going to be honest and say that while immigration reform is not my issue, justice is. Acting together powerfully is vital to who I am as a rabbi and who we are as Reform Jews.  At the CCAR Convention in Long Beach, we asked the question: Do we want to act together as a Reform Movement? The answer was a resounding yes, as hundreds of colleagues across the country joined the efforts of Rabbis Organizing Rabbis, a project of the Reform Movement’s social justice initiatives: the Justice and Peace Committee of the Central Conference of American Rabbis, the Religious Action Center, and Just Congregations.  Since then, we have worked on passing legislation through the Senate. Teams of colleagues in seven states met with key swing senators and their staffs. Many of us gathered in Washington DC for a lobby day, or participated in a national call-in day. Nearly 400 of us are staying connected through the Rabbis Organizing Rabbis Facebook group. We have worked together to amplify the rabbinic voice for justice, but there is more work to do.

Now we have another chance to act together to make a real difference in the debate in the House. In the weeks to come, we’ll share more with you about which legislators are crucial to the passage of compassionate, common sense immigration reform. But in the short term, there is something that only we as rabbis can do: speak from the heart to our congregants about this defining issue of our times.

So, will you join our effort and make preaching and teaching about immigration reform part of your High Holidays this year? To make it as easy as possible we have compiled text resources and sample sermons. If you willing to join the effort please share your thoughts and plans on the Rabbis Organizing Rabbis Facebook group so we can log your participation. And, it never hurts to reach out to another colleague or two to ask them to join us as well.

As we move into Tishrei we have the opportunity to begin our year by speaking out for justice. Join us in showing our legislators, our congregants and ourselves what it means to be part of a national movement and to put justice at the center of the Reform rabbinate.