Category: Reform Judaism

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Books News Passover Pesach Rabbis Reform Judaism

Four Questions about the New Union Haggadah, Revised Edition

In anticipation of the forthcoming publication of The New Union Haggadah, Revised Edition, CCAR rabbinic intern Liz Piper-Goldberg interviewed editor Rabbi Howard Berman.

1. In true Passover fashion, why is this haggadah different from all other haggadot? Can you tell us what makes it unique?  Why is this haggadah a good fit for the Jews of 2014?

NUH art sample 1A broad variety of historic minhagim, local traditions and ideologies are reflected in the hundreds of Haggadah versions available today. In the midst of this rich tapestry, the distinctive liturgical and spiritual heritage of American Reform Judaism stands in its own integrity and enduring significance.  Our Movement has always created liturgies to give expression to the special understandings of Jewish belief and life embodied in our liberal spiritual commitment. Characteristically, Reform Judaism – and particularly the Classical Reform understanding – has interpreted the Passover Story from a broad, universalistic perspective- as a paradigm of redemption and liberation for all humanity… to use Rabbi Herbert Bronstein’s wonderful imagery- retained in this new version – “living our story that is told for all people…whose shining conclusion is yet to unfold!”  The traditional Haggadah is far narrower and more particularistic in its vision, and other versions focus on particular ideological themes. Our Reform versions, all of which have built upon the foundation of the original Union Haggadah, embraces a far more inclusive approach, recognizing the enduring inspiration of the Exodus as a model for so many others, while celebrating its unique meaning for us as those who came out of Egypt.

2. What is the history of the original 1923 Union Haggadah? What was unique about that Haggadah at the time?

The 1923 version of the Union Haggadah was in turn a revision of the first edition of 1907. At that point, the pioneer Reformers had shifted the locus of religious life and worship from the home to the synagogue, where the principles of a new, modern, liberal Judaism were proclaimed in the liturgy and expounded from the pulpit. Passover was celebrated in Reform temples with well-attended services on the first and seventh Festival days, highlighted by the majestic liturgy of the Union Prayer Book’s texts expressing the vision of the “universal Passover” of future redemption and liberation of all humanity. However, in the early years of the 20th century, the home Seder had indeed declined in popular observance. The leaders of our Movement were confident that a new version of the Haggadah, which, like the Union Prayer Book itself, would be “at once modern in spirit and rich in traditional elements” would renew the compelling meanings of the Seder and inspire a revival of its celebration.  This goal was indeed fulfilled, and what had been an “anxious” hope was rewarded with the eventual reality today, that the Passover Seder remains the most observed religious tradition among American Reform Jews.

3. What new traditions have been added to this edition?  What did you want to keep the same, and what did you want to change, and why?

NUH art sample 2In the New Union Haggadah, we have attempted to preserve the literary beauty, the direct and accessible text, and the broad, universalistic spirit embodied in the 1923 version. We have rendered the majority of the English text in contemporary, inclusive, gender-neutral language, following the egalitarian values that have guided all of the CCAR’s liturgical developments over the past forty years. In the spirit of Classical Reform, this haggadah is conceived to be used as a forthrightly and primarily English language experience- with all of the major Hebrew texts included in transliteration, and accompanied by versions of the most popular holiday songs and hymns that may be sung in both languages.

We have introduced new elements in the text as well. These include traditional parts of the Haggadah that were consciously eliminated by the editors of the earlier versions. Our predecessors sought to remain true to the vigorously rational spirit of a liberal faith that rejected superstition and parochialism. The original Union Haggadah consequently omitted such well-known dimensions of the ritual as the triumphant enumeration of the Ten Plagues – considered a “vindictive act unworthy of enlightened minds and hearts.” While they provided for the tradition of welcoming of the Prophet Elijah, there was no particular ceremony attached to it – reflecting the ambivalence toward what may have been considered a remnant of ancient myth and fantasy.  We have reinstated the recollection of the plagues, retaining the beautiful and moving interpretation originated by Rabbi Herbert Bronstein in the 1974 A Passover Haggadah. This brilliant and creative rendition links the recitation of the plagues to the symbolism of the ten drops of wine- the diminishing of our joy at our own redemption as we recall the sufferings of our oppressors. We have also been inspired by the concept of echoing the ancient plagues with those of our own time – also a feature of the Bronstein version –offered here in a new form that weaves the two together. Despite the rationalist objections, Elijah remained stubbornly ensconced in the hearts of most Reform Jews. For the ceremony of Opening of the Door for the Prophet, we have reclaimed a little-known supplement created by the Joint Committee on Ceremonies of the CCAR and the Union of American Hebrew Congregations in 1942 – which brilliantly recasts this beloved tradition in the universalistic spirit of Reform Judaism, as an authentic question and answer dialogue between parent and child. In addition, we have incorporated more recent innovations that have broadened the embrace and symbolism of the Seder – the Cup of Miriam and the Orange on the Plate – with explanations that express the heightened awareness and contemporary sensibilities of these popular rituals, in a way that compliments the rest of the text.

4. Which aspects or traditions of the Passover seder are most meaningful to you? How are they expressed in the Union Haggadah?

NUH Page Sample 3Like so many of us, having grown up with the old Union Haggadah, its cadences and distinctive literary style echo in my consciousness as the quintessential sounds and images of Pesach.  The unique phrases of its Magid narrative continue to express the Festival’s timeless, transforming message. Preserving and creatively renewing this tradition for a new generation is the essence of my work with the Society for Classical Reform Judaism, and has guided my efforts in this project.  The Seder’s symbolic progression from remembrance to hope, from oppression to liberation to future redemption, all find profoundly clear and compelling expression for me in the Union Haggadah’s simplicity and flow.

Ultimately, what we “tell our children on this day” encompasses a rich and distinctive heritage that weaves together our identities and experiences as Jews, as Reform Jews, and as American Jews.  The seamless integration of each of these strands of our tradition and faith remain the unique genius of Classical Reform Judaism and the guiding principle of The New Union Haggadah.

Rabbi Howard Berman A. Berman is Founding Rabbi of Central Reform Temple of Boston. He is also Rabbi Emeritus of Chicago Sinai Congregation, and the Executive Director of the Society for Classical Reform Judaism.  

Categories
Books Passover Pesach Reform Judaism

CCAR Haggadot: A Feast of Haggadah Choices

By Mark Podwal

I know, I know, Purim hasn’t even arrived yet, but Passover isn’t too far away and it’s never too early to begin to think about preparations.  One of the first questions that always comes up is which haggadah to use.  Here at the CCAR, we have a long history of publishing haggadot, and today we offer many different options.  Each one offers something a little bit different to meet the needs of your family or community.

It all began in 1892, which marks the beginning of Reform haggadot in North America. That was when the CCAR attempted to publish the first Union Prayer Book, in which a new haggadah was meant to be incorporated. That prayer book was ultimately and infamously rejected by the CCAR, and the haggadah was later published as a stand-alone volume (the subsequent UPB 2, which did pass the approval process, did not include the haggadah).

This early haggadah was an adaptation by Rabbi Isaac Moses of an even earlier Reform haggadah published in Bavaria in German by Rabbi Leopold Stein in 1841.  This original haggadah, as well as its subsequent adaptations and translations, was a contemporary rethinking of Passover for the Jews of the time.  As Dr. Richard Sarason writes, “While a strong affective connection to the seder ritual remains, there is a clear cognitive distancing from its premodern form and some of its content, which is either eliminated entirely or reshaped to conform to contemporary sensibilities. The passages of classical Rabbinic discourse are deleted, as are any angry or vengeful references to the gentiles” (Sarason, “The Haggadah and Reform Judaism” in The New Union Haggadah, CCAR Press, 2014).  Redemption is framed not as something far off in the future to which to yearn, but rather taking place in its audience’s own time as Jews gained political, social, and professional rights.  A revision, with slightly more Hebrew, was published in 1907/08.

Union HaggadahThe beloved gray hardcover known as the Union Haggadah, published in 1923, was a revision of this early 19th century haggadah (the image here is of the paperback facsimile version). This edition contains more Hebrew than the earlier versions, had a fuller version of the Exodus story, and also restored the traditional divisions of the seder.  But it still shared the original sensibility, looking not toward a future time of redemption but celebrating the freedom and liberty available to Jews in North America.  Generations of Reform Jews were raised on this version of the haggadah, as well as the revised version published following World War II. It was also appreciated for its gorgeous black and white artwork and elegant design, as well as the musical notation provided.  The CCAR Press has made a paperback version of this haggadah available.

PASSHAGG COVIn 1974 CCAR published A Passsover Haggadah, known familiarly as “the Baskin” though it should be known as the Bronstein-Baskin, created as it was under the editorial leadership of Rabbi Herbert Bronstein. This was the first full color haggadah from the Reform Movement, incorporating the striking art of Leonard Baskin.  A Passover Haggadah became an instant bestseller, as ubiquitous in Reform homes as The Union Haggadah once was.  This haggadah incorporates many supplementary readings and songs, drawing on the post-Holocaust Jewish experience as well as acknowledging the existence of and relationship with Israel.  It uses a much fuller Hebrew text than the  previous haggadot, a beautiful poetic style of English, adds back in much of the rabbinic commentary edited out in various editions of The Union Haggadah, and draws on many contemporary sources including Hebrew poetry.  This is an excellent haggadah for those who want a rich seder experience, with a tremendous amount of material to build upon.

Open Door-COVER-NEWThe Open Door, edited by Rabbi Sue Levi Elwell and published in 2002, reflects further changes in the North American Jewish community.  This haggadah, with beautiful art by Ruth Weisberg, incorporates voices of those previously marginalized or left out, including women’s voice, GLBT voices, and those from non-Ashkenazi Jewish communities.  This haggadah is a great addition to any collection, offering new perspectives on familiar texts and opening the door for all those who want to enter.

STJCoverIn 2012 CCAR Press added another haggadah to our offerings.  Sharing the Journey: The Haggadah for the Contemporary Family, edited by Alan Yoffie with gorgeous full color artwork by Mark Podwal, offers a welcoming and accessible approach to Passover.  This haggadah is especially a good fit for those who don’t know a lot about Passover rituals or practices but wants to get started, or those with non-Jewish family members and friends around the table.  All are warmly welcomed and included in the shared experience of moving from slavery to redemption, with Sharing the Journey follows the traditional steps of the seder in a joyous, streamlined, non-intimidating way.  All Hebrew is fully transliterated and gender inclusive. There are discussion questions and explanations throughout. This Haggadah is also a great choice for congregational seders, which could be accompanied by the forthcoming Visual T’filah version. A separate Leader’s Guide is available, including a 2 CD set, and the album is also available on iTunes, both with words and without, for singing along too.  There is also an iPad version of Sharing the Journey, and it will shortly be available as Visual T’filah, a terrific resource for congregational seders.  In addition, a selection of Podwal’s signed giclee prints of images from the book are available and make special very special gifts.

CCAR-UnionOur latest haggadah is a completely revised edition of the 1923 Union Haggadah.  This edition, The New Union Haggadah, is being created in consultation with the Society for Classical Reform Judaism, with Rabbi Howard Berman as consulting editor and Rabbi Ben Zeidman as development editor.  This revision features beautiful updates of the original artwork, as well as some new full color art based on Passover images from stained glasses windows found in Reform synagogues across North America.  For those who still feel connected to the 1923 edition but want something slightly more contemporary, this is a perfect choice.  This edition preserves the beauty and elegance of the original, with its focus on the shared Jewish and American moral values and emphasis on liberty for all, while now offering full transliteration, gender inclusive language, and updates to the original such as Miriam’s cup and the option of an orange on the seder plate.  In addition, we are also offering a large print edition.

CHLDHAGG COVAnd then there’s A Children’s Haggadah,  by Howard Bogot and Robert Orkand, with illustrations by Devis Grebu.  This child-friendly haggadah features a vibrant fold-out section of the whole seder plate.   Designed especially for young people, this haggadah is a great choice for home seders with lots of young children, as well as for schools or community family seders.

There are many haggadot to choose from.  We’re proud to be able to offer a range of different options.  And of course there’s always the tradition of collecting many different haggadot, all the better to pick and choose the parts you like from each. Have fun making your choice, and chag sameach!

Rabbi Hara Person is the Publisher and Director of CCAR Press. 

 

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News Rabbis Reform Judaism

Ham is Not Kosher: The Creationism Debate

Two weeks ago there was a nearly three-hour debate in the greater Cincinnati area. It went relatively unpublicized, but it was quite a site to be seen. Bill Nye the Science Guy went to Petersburg, Kentucky to debate Ken Ham, founder of the Creation Museum. If you want to watch the debate on YouTube, it will be an invigorating and infuriating two hours and forty-five minutes, but enjoy.

The debate was over the question, “Is Creationism a viable model of origins in today’s modern, scientific era?” In short, the debate went as follows: Bill Nye tried to rationally answer the question presented, and Ken Ham tried to redefine the terms used in the question. Ham spent his time presenting the theory that scientists had hijacked the word “science.” He suggested that there are two types of science: observational and historical. He further suggested that lumping both types into one realm is a disservice to Creationism, because Creationism is a historical science, while “Bill Nye and his friends” are focused on observational science. Condescension aside, Ham says that since Nye’s field is based on observation (what we can see, hear, feel, touch, etc. right now), it does not have the right to assume what happened in the past. Historical science is based in Creationism on the knowledge of what happened as we were told by God in the Bible, while in “science taught in our public schools” is based on “the ideas of man such as Darwin.” He makes it difficult to have a debate because instead of answering the question he creates more issues. He says, basically, “You can’t call my science anything but viable because I’m redefining science to force Creationism into validity.” He never answers the questions his definitions create, such as, “Isn’t reading the biblical account also an observation?”

I have been to the Creation Museum in Petersburg. The modus operandi of the museum is identical to how Ken Ham tried to debate this month. They present a series of events from the Bible and show how the biblical account “debunks” evolutionist theories. I blogged about our experience several years ago, but this is what I clearly remember: they try to use facts that we observe in today’s world to “prove” the truths found in the Bible.

Take Noah’s story, for example. The Creation Museum suggests that the immense pressure from the entire world being covered in water for forty days created layers of strata under the surface of the earth. The pressure also created the animals trapped under the sediment to be fossilized faster than they normally would have been, which tricked the “scientists” into thinking that each layer represents a different era. Bill Nye, during the debate, asks why the fossils trapped in each layer are constant to each layer. In other words, why didn’t any animals try to swim up in the flood?

There are two major problems with Ham’s presentation. First, he conflates truth with fact. Facts are about collecting data. Truths are beliefs. On a crisp February morning here in Southern California, my wife Natalie might tell me, “It is so cold today!” I might respond with, “It is 54 degrees outside this morning.” Natalie is speaking the truth, and I am speaking a fact. You cannot even determine by my response whether I agree or disagree with her truth. My response, therefore, is inadequate because it does not serve the purpose of the conversation she started with me.

Our Holy texts are not concerned with facts. The Torah does not serve our purposes if it is a historical account of the world from the beginning of time to the conquest of Canaan. If it is only about the past, it loses meaning. The Torah is about us, now, today. We call it Torat chayim because its ideas are ever-pertinent to the things we face in our daily lives. It is a compendium of truth, not facts.

The second problem with his presentation is that he focuses so heavily on children. Before the debate even begins the museum shows a commercial about how children get free admission in February. Inside the museum the animatronic displays and focus on dinosaurs and dragons are clearly geared toward wooing youngsters in to the museum. It is almost scary to see that Ham actively works to get the most impressionable minds to buy in to his truth, and even scarier that he presents it as fact.

Rabbi David N. Young is the rabbi for Congregation B’nai Tzedek of Fountain Valley, CA. He spends all of his non-congregational time with his wife, Cantor Natalie Young, and their children Gabriel, Alexander, and Isabella. They also have a fish that their daughter named “Rabbi Litwak.”

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General CCAR Rabbis Reform Judaism

Mazel Tov, You Failed!

My kids used to love the Disney movie, “Meet the Robinsons.” The scene I love in this movie is where young inventor Will Robinson, at dinner with his future family, destroys a ketchup-and-mustard-gun, squirting them all over the table, walls, and people. He gets very embarrassed, and looks completely dejected until the condiment-coated cousins start singing about how well he failed.  They explain that their father is a great inventor, and he teaches them that in order to make any progress they have to “Keep Moving Forward,” and every time they fail they know they are a bit closer to their goal.

To put the same thought in the words of Michael Jordan, “It’s not about how many times you fall, it’s about how many times you get back up again.”

There is a story from the Babylonian Talmud (Taanit 25a), that tells of Chanina Ben Dosa and his wife while they are suffering great financial stress. In order to get through this hard time, Chanina, a known miracle-receiver, is asked by his wife to pray for a miracle. A hand comes down holding a golden leg from the table at which he will sit in olam habah (the world to come).  That night he dreams of how wife and himself in olam habah, forever condemned to wobble at an unbalanced table.  He tells her of the dream and he immediately replaces the golden leg, promising her that he will find other means to earn money rather than jeopardize their share of the world to come.

Like Michael Jordan and Will Robinson, Chanina Ben Dosa is able to get up and try something new, even after an idea that he thought was brilliant, fails.  This is our task as well. We often can trick ourselves into believing that the magical solutions we think of are the best way to fix our community’s issues. Sometimes we have brilliant, miraculous successes, and sometimes we can jeopardize our future with the mistakes we make. If we have the fortitude to get up, make amends, and dust ourselves off, our congregations will thrive as we keep moving forward.

Rabbi David N. Young is the rabbi for Congregation B’nai Tzedek of Fountain Valley, CA. He spends all of his non-congregational time with his wife, Cantor Natalie Young, and their children Gabriel, Alexander, and Isabella. They also have a fish that their daughter named “Rabbi Litwak.”

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Ethics General CCAR Rabbis Reform Judaism

Taking out the (Sacred?) Trash

Leviticus assigns some very messy duties to the Cohanim, the Priests of otherwise exalted status in the ancient Temple.  Not only is the Priest charged with slaughtering the sacrificial animal and sprinkling blood according to prescribed ritual, he is also required to clean up after the ritual is complete.

Yes, that’s right.  The same Priest who presides over the sacrificial ritual is the custodian.  He changes clothes, sweeps up the ashes, and takes them to the dumping ground outside the camp — to the dumpster, if you will.

We may be surprised that Torah assigns this garbage run to the Priest himself.  After all, Levites are charged to assist the Priests by taking on less exalted duties connected to the Temple service.

So what’s the lesson?

Recently, I transitioned from service as rabbi of a larger congregation of about 1000 households to a medium-sized synagogue of some 350 families.  My new congregation employs one full-time custodian who doesn’t work on Saturday or Sunday.  (I write “Saturday” rather than “Shabbat,” because he does work Friday evenings.)

We have a robust attendance at Shabbat Torah study, which always includes a breakfast snack provided by volunteers among the participants; and our Men’s Club assures that a lovely Kiddush follows Shabbat morning worship.  Shortly after I arrived, an insect infestation inspired a decision that the garbage from this Shabbat morning gathering would need to be taken to the dumpster at the end of the morning’s activities rather than sitting in the inside trash can until Monday.

As the only staff member regularly present on Shabbat morning, I’m often the guy who takes the trash to the dumpster.  Suffice it to say that I never took trash to the dumpster even once in 21 years at my previous congregation.

While I never reacted badly to this garbage duty, or imagined it beneath my station, I also didn’t find it edifying.  Slowly, though, I began to see קדושה in the duty.  No, I’m not a Cohen, but the trash is sacred:  It is the refuse of the holy endeavors or Torah study and worship.

At my new congregation, every member, including the rabbi, needs to be a custodian.  After Shabbat Kiddush, if I’m visiting with a congregant in need or a newcomer, or if I need to rush out to a pastoral or family obligation, a lay leader will take out our sacred Shabbat garbage.

The word “custodian” is often treated as a synonym of “janitor.”  However, if we pay attention to the word, we will note that a custodian is one who has custody, who maintains a responsibility, often for something holy.  Indeed, our most regular usage of the  word “custody” refers to children!

Being a custodian wasn’t what I expected when I became a rabbi, or even when I sought placement in a smaller congregation, but I am grateful to have found meaning in taking out the sacred garbage.

 Rabbi Barry Block is the rabbi of Congregation B’nai Israel in Little Rock, AR.

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General CCAR News Rabbis Reform Judaism

Mentors and Mystery Partners

Just a few years back – or at least it feels that way – I started seventh grade at a small private school in West Los Angeles. The spring prior I graduated from the Jewish day school I’d attended since Mommy-n-Me, housed at the synagogue in which I’d spent most of my childhood. Though I remained deeply connected to my home community throughout high school, after sixth grade I decided it was time for a change. So, one hot September morning I began a new chapter at the 7th-12th-grade middle and high school where I would spend the next six years of my life.

To say the transition was rough is an understatement.

No longer was I one of the top dogs. Gone were the uniforms I’d grown accustomed to. Overnight, everything and everyone changed. The kids around me were now cooler, hipper, and obviously, older. Some of them even had cars. Classes were harder; it was middle school after all. I was an awkward new kid on the block, complete with braces, glasses, and a whole lot of tsuris about this new experience.

Thankfully, to help with the transition I had my very own “mystery partner” to introduce me to the greater student body. At the start of the school year, each seventh grader was assigned an older student as a secret buddy. The older student knew who the younger was, but for the younger it was left a mystery. This longstanding tradition took the form of passing notes, small gifts, and even singing telegrams to one another throughout fall semester. By winter break, identities were revealed, hugs exchanged, and we seventh graders felt much more connected to a greater student body; to a campus filled with “big kids.”

Now, nearly two decades later, I’m experiencing a modern-day version of the mystery partner: the CCAR’s mentoring program between graduating HUC-JIR rabbinical students like myself and established rabbis from all over the country. This program (which began in 2002 as a voluntary and is now required), stretches over three years; it begins our last year as students and carries us through two years in the rabbinate. This mentoring aims to help us soon-to-be new rabbis on the block transition out of the academy and into the field. And so far, it’s been a tremendously valuable experience.

To be fair, my mentor isn’t a mystery. I do, in fact, know who he is and where he’s based. Though we’ve never met in person, it feels as though the relationship has lasted years. When we met for the first time over the phone last spring it quickly became clear to me I’d lucked out with this match. Since that day I have felt a strong and unique level of support from an individual far away from my home base in Southern California. Though we’ve never met face-to-face, I know he’s got my back; that he is committed to helping me navigate this strange, surreal experience of preparing for ordination and all that lays beyond it.

In our sessions my mentor has demonstrated an extraordinary awareness of what it means to be a rav. He is warm, engaged, funny, and genuinely curious about me. He wants to know who I am as a person, what my experience at HUC has been like, and all that I anticipate – or don’t – in this next chapter of my life. In turn my mentor is open about his own story: about his rabbinate, family, personal interests and relationships, triumphs and struggles, and what being a rabbi has meant to him. His depth, generosity, and openness are remarkable. We make each other laugh, commiserate about shared challenges, and pose thoughtful questions to one another about what we hope to achieve in our careers and our lives.

My mentor is not the only person to whom I look for guidance and support. He joins a long list of individuals to whom I’ve grown close over the years: rabbis, cantors, educators, lay leaders, colleagues, and friends. While I feel incredibly blessed to have these people in my life, there’s something different about this specific mentorship. First, there’s no background: no context, no baggage. We have no history with one another, and if it weren’t for Google we wouldn’t even know what the other looks like. We’re two people who were matched together, who know a few of the same people but really come from two different places. The near-anonymity is liberating and refreshing.

Second, there’s no hidden agenda. We talk for the sake of professional and personal growth. He dedicates his time and energy toward helping me acclimate to the world of the rabbinate and in turn, I offer him food for thought on every topic under the sun. That I am still present in the HUC-JIR community is very much a form of connection and memory for him and reminds us both of the many gifts the College-Institute bestows on its students.

Finally, and most importantly, this mentorship provides a specific level of insight onto the roles we play in our lives. Each of us wears many hats: rabbi, husband, father, friend; rabbinical student, wife, daughter, teacher, etc. Day in and day out we engage with those around us while wearing one or more of those hats. We play our roles, deliver ​our monologues, and transition from one to the other with relative ease. Yet when it comes time for our conversations we remove those hats. We step into the roles of “mentor” and “mentee” and discuss, honestly and openly, the experience of wearing and sharing those very roles. It’s a level of reflection I did not know was possible until now, and I am so grateful that I get to experience it.

One year from now, I have no idea where I will be. I can only hope to have just completed my first High Holiday season as a full-time rabbi with a dynamic and vibrant community, settling down in a great place and exploring my new role. While I do not yet know where, when, or how any of this will come to fruition, I do know one thing for certain: that my mentor will be right there alongside me; pushing, encouraging, and challenging me to be the best rabbi I can be. Who knows? Maybe I’ll even get a singing telegram, too.

Jacyln Fromer Cohen is a rabbinic student at HUC-JIR in Los Angeles.

Categories
Books General CCAR Prayer Reform Judaism

Where Has This Week Vanished: Thoughts on Mishkan T’filah

I don’t remember when I first came across David Polish’s reading that now appears in Mishkan T’filah at least twice:  once in the Kabbalat Shabbat service and a second time in the Shabbat Morning service.

Most of us must have encountered the text many, many times.  “Where has this week vanished?  Is it lost for ever…Shabbat, abide.”

I have always liked it.  I have liked the feelings it evoked.  I have liked the way it suggested the core Shabbat opportunity:  “Help me to withdraw for a while from the flight of time…Let me learn to pause…Let me find peace on this day.”

At one point in the last several months, however, something about the reading began to disturb me.  Although I like the image of Shabbat peace offered by the piece, I began to feel uncomfortable with the opening lines.

“Where has this week vanished?  Is it lost forever?  Will I ever recover anything from it? …Will I ever be able to banish the memory of pain, the sting of defeat, the heaviness of boredom?”

The words are too sad.  Am I really that tired and out of sorts when the week comes to a close?  Are the six days of my week regularly painful or so difficult that I need the Sabbath as a respite?

Maybe sometimes.

But much of the time not at all.

That is why I tried an experiment with a small Shabbat morning minyan a few weeks ago.  When we got to the prayer, I indicated that we would read it aloud and then pause to absorb its meaning.  I also continued by saying we would then come back at the prayer to see if we could reframe it.

So we read the prayer together as written in the siddur.  We paused.  And then I said something along these lines,  “What if we use these Shabbat moments to look back on the week we have all had?  But let’s change the approach from what we’ve got here.  What if a modified Sabbath prayer asked this new question…Not ‘how has this week vanished,’ but ‘how has this week brought me blessing…what can I carry forward as I pause on this seventh day?’

The responses to the “new” prayer were moving.

One congregant immediately volunteered that she had traveled to another city in order to help nurse an old friend back to health.  She had come home the day before and felt energized by knowing how much her presence had helped her friend heal.

Another congregant told us about a blessing that had come her way in the form of a note from a grandchild thanking her for being her grandmother.

Another worshiper was a physician who had literally saved someone’s life that week.  Someone else had read a great book.  Someone else was building a ramp on the house of a handicapped neighbor.

Best of all:  We had all come together at the end of this productive week and this pause in our service allowed us to share these blessings.

I still plan to read the “vanished week” prayer with the congregation, but every once in a while I also want to lovingly turn it on its head:  not to sigh at what was lost but rather to smile at what was accomplished.

After all, if we start its week wishing each other a “shavua tov,” why not “end” the week by considering how (at least sometimes) the week really was “tov” or even better.

“How has this week brought me blessing?”

Shabbat shalom.

 Mark Dov Shapiro is the Rabbi of Sinai Temple in Springfield, Massachusetts.

Categories
Ethics News Rabbis Reform Judaism

Thank You for Sharing: Going Public With the Private

The editors at MyJewishLearning.org posted a question on its website a week ago Monday.  Commenting on an article the death of “Superman Sam” Sommer, they asked, “What do you think about publicly sharing a loved one’s illness and death?”

Anyone who resides under the expansive tent created by Rabbis Phyllis and Michael Sommer, and Phyllis’ powerful and poignant blog, Superman Sam, know heart-achingly well of the struggles, early triumphs, later set-backs, and the awful, awful path along which they have had to travel.  One stage of their journey ended very early Shabbat morning, December 14 when their beloved, precious Sam took his final breath, not long after Phyllis recited the bedtime Sh’ma to him.

The reason why I, a friend and colleague, but far from their inner circle, know these details is simply because Phyllis and Michael bravely chose to share their family’s story with us, publicly.  Yes, I was moved to tears, often, because of their willingness to share intimate details of their family’s anguish.

I do feel somewhat self-conscious writing about the Sommer family in this forum.  Any rabbi following Facebook recently has read far better reflections from people much closer to them. After all, I am not a close friend, I do not live in their community, I have not yet met their children, nor did I have an opportunity to meet Sam before he died.

Yet despite my geographical distance from the Sommers, I feel very close to them.  That is the power of their story, of using a blog as catharsis, as communication, and as a way of forming a larger community that can provide essential unconditional love and support.

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Jason Rosenberg, Chuck Briskin and Michael Sommer at a recent CCAR Conference

Sam’s story has touched thousands of people simply because his parents chose to share his life and his death with us.

On Shabbat at the URJ Biennial, a small handful of us who were moved by Sam’s story to join Rabbi Rebecca Einstein Schorr’s and Rabbi Phyllis Sommer’s “36 Rabbis Shave for the Brave” campaign gathered at the CCAR Oneg Shabbat.

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L-r: David Widzer, Chuck Briskin, Elizabeth Wood, Alan Cook, Paul Kipnes, David Levy at the URJ Biennial

As we enjoyed a light moment among colleagues, and friends—new and old—little did we know that 1500 miles away from us Sam had died.

When we learned of his death the next morning, we found one another.  We held one another.  We cried together.  Many words offered throughout the Biennial morning service made us think immediately of Sam.  We read a Torah portion called “and he lived” which is really about death, blessing and memory.  The Sommers’ loss was our loss too.  A vastly different loss, but a loss nonetheless.  I selfishly wanted to hug my children who were home in Los Angeles. More than anything, we wanted Phyllis and Michael to be able to hug Sam.

It seemed strangely fitting then, if Sam’s was to die, that he would die on Shabbat, at the same time as the URJ biennial, where so many people touched by his story were gathered.  It was a gift he gave us.  Those of from different circles of relationship with the Sommers could find each other, and draw strength from one another.  We are friends, colleagues, acquaintances; some were classmates with Phyllis and Michael, others knew them from conventions, several from the world of social media.  Many have never met Phyllis or Michael but feel a close connection nevertheless.

Those of us gathered at that oneg Shabbat, and dozens more are doing something small and relatively inconsequential.  Hair grows back.  It is our small way to restore some power and control since we’ve felt so powerless. We can’t return Sam to his parents’ loving embrace, but we can raise funds to try to make sure that there are fewer families who will have to travel along the same path as the Sommers.

Briskin3Rebecca and Phyllis hoped that 36 rabbis would raise $180,000. More than 60 have signed up, and the initial $180,000 has been met. God willing we will double, even triple our goal.  It’s the least we can do, to honor Sam’s valiant fight, and to help others fighting today.

To answer MyJewishLearning’s question; the answer is an unequivocal yes.  Share, draw strength, use social media to bring people into this tent.  Because of Phyllis and Michael’s sharing, so many know of Superman Sam.  And as long as we keep talking about Sam, and sharing his story with others, his memory will endure.

Rabbi Charles K. Briskin serves Temple Beth El in San Pedro, CA.

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General CCAR Israel News Rabbis Reform Judaism

BDS: Biased, Dishonest, Self-Defeating

Deciding to boycott Israeli academic institutions, the American Studies Association has aligned itself with the BDS movement, which calls for boycotts, disinvestment, and sanctions against Israel. The ASA resolution, approved by voters who received only pro-BDS materials and no opposing viewpoints, illustrates the moral and political bankruptcy of this approach to one of the world’s most complex conflicts.

Biased.

Most fair-minded people recognize that in any complicated dispute, responsibility for the situation and the capacity to solve it are shared among the parties. Not the BDS posse! The ASA’s action is but the latest example of a pernicious bias that focuses obsessively on Israel’s flaws – real, exaggerated, and imagined – while ignoring or attempting to justify the misdeeds, failures, mistakes and shortcomings of Israel’s adversaries. This willful blindness, which singles out the Jewish State, and it alone, for condemnation and delegitimization, and holds that nation, and it alone, to standards that it fails or refuses to impose on others, is the newest form of the world’s most enduring prejudice: anti-Semitism.

For a taste of the hypocrisy inherent in condemning Israel for alleged human rights violations and repressing academic freedom, consider some of the countries on which the ASA and the BDS movement exercise the right to remain silent: Zimbabwe, Iran, North Korea, China and Russia, where dissident teachers and students are targets of violence, the ruling regimes’ ideological opponents are imprisoned or worse, elections are rigged, the media are state-controlled, homosexuality is banned, and the freedoms of speech, press, assembly, and religion are denied. The ASA continues the proud tradition of those who ignored the atrocities of Pol Pot and Idi Amin, totalitarianism in Burma, mass murder in the Congo, and genocide in Rwanda to focus their moral lasers exclusively on Israel.

Dishonest.

BDS is a weapon in the arsenal of those who deny, explicitly or implicitly, the Jewish People’s aspiration to statehood and the right of a Jewish state to exist, while asserting vehemently, and often violently, the Palestinian People’s national rights. Non-state actors like Hamas, Hezbollah, Islamic Jihad and Al Qaeda, as well as Iran, the world’s leading state sponsor of terrorism, are determined to use all means available, ranging from disinformation to nuclear weapons, to destroy the Jewish State and annihilate its citizens.

Even Peter Beinart, with whom I disagree fundamentally on so much that pertains to the Middle East, denounced the ASA’s action. “BDS proponents note that the movement takes no position on whether there should be one state or two between the Jordan River and the Mediterranean Sea. But it clearly opposes the existence of a Jewish state within any borders…This is the fundamental problem: Not that the ASA is practicing double standards and not even that it’s boycotting academics, but that it’s denying the legitimacy of a democratic Jewish state, even alongside a Palestinian one.”

 Self-Defeating.

Bias and dishonesty aside, BDS does nothing to advance Palestinians’ national goals or improve their quality of life, either in the territories or within Israel. There is much to be learned from Mais Ali-Saleh, 27, the observant Moslem woman from a small Arab village near Nazareth, in Northern Israel, this year’s medical school valedictorian at the Technion, often called “Israel’s M.I.T.,” who observed, “An academic boycott of Israel is a passive move, and it doesn’t achieve any of its purported objectives.” Sooner or later, Dr. Ali-Saleh pointed out, the boycott will impinge upon academic researchers she knows, both Jews and Arabs. Her clear message: Efforts like BDS are unproductive and misdirected. Those who truly seek to assist Palestinians and promote Middle East peace should invest their energies in supporting successes like hers and those of her husband, Nidal Mawasi, also a Technion-educated M.D., and on pressing Arab countries and the Palestinian authorities themselves to emulate Israel’s academic freedoms and democracy.

Fortunately, many in the Arab world are far wiser and more sensible than their erstwhile supporters in the BDS crowd. The Allgemeiner reports that thousands of students from Arab countries have signed up for the Technion’s first course taught in both Arabic and English. Even before officially opening, the nanoscience course has drawn more than 32,000 views from all over the world, including 5,595 from Egypt, 1,865 from Kuwait, 1,243 from Saudi Arabia, and 1,243 from Syria. The course will be taught by Professor Hossam Haick, a Nazareth native and a pioneer in innovative cancer detection, one of the many the ASA now boycotts.

Academics are often accused of inhabiting an “ivory tower,” blissfully and cluelessly detached from the messy reality of the world. In aligning itself with BDS, biased, dishonest, and self-defeating, the ASA’s shameful resolution substantiates that notion.

Rabbi Rick Block is Senior Rabbi of The Temple – Tifereth Israel in Cleveland and Beachwood, Ohio, and President of the Central Conference of American Rabbis.  This piece originally appeared in the Huffington Post. 

Categories
Rabbis Reform Judaism Social Justice

Biennial 13: Reflections from a Biennial-o-phile Rabbi

I attended my first Biennial in 1987 in Chicago, when I was 16. Rachel Shabbat Beit-Halachmi, then a leader in our synagogue and NFTY, invited me to attend. Anatoly Sharansky (now Natan Sharansky), symbol of Refusnik’s worldwide, had just been released and came to the Biennial.

And when they brought him to the dais, the NFTY members spontaneously ran forward, armed linked, singing as only chutzpadik youth can:

Anatoly as long as you are there /We the children of Israel share your prayer. /Anatoly as long as you’re not free /Neither are we. (Doug Mishkin)

Our hearts soared—we welcomed a dissident, a global leader for freedom. Ani v’atah n’shaneh et haolam. We believed we could change the world. And we did.

I’ve been to every Biennial since 1987, save for two. Why keep going? Beyond the programming and the gathering and the worship and the leadership development, somewhere in the back of my psyche I’ve been hungering to recreate that perfect moment from my youth. There have been terrific conventions along the way and memorable speeches and worship and awards. But this past week in San Diego, I felt that same energy, that same sense of Jewish promise and potential, that same hope and belief that we could transform the world as I did 26 years ago. There isn’t “one” thing that made this Biennial so magical; all the parts fit together to make a more beautiful whole.

1477632_718678161477877_637043718_nIt was Duncan on the bimah, a 13 year old advocating for marriage equality, because his rabbis and his congregation call forth their youth to believe in justice and speak for human dignity and it was Jonah Pesner’s stirring tribute to Nelson Mandela.

It was the soaring Shabbat morning worship with Rabbi Rick Jacobs and Cantor/Rabbi Angela Warnick Buchdahl (a classmate of whom the kvelling knows no end).

It was learning Torah with Paul Kipnes, Donniel Hartman and Amichai Lau Lavie and Shira Klein and Sharon Brous, Yehuda Kurtzer and Ruth Messinger who stirred our souls in ways that were provocative and soul stirring and agonizing and inspiring.

When David Ellenson placed his hands on Aaron Panken’s head and blessed him as he becomes President of HUC-JIR, it felt as though we were watching the first s’micha.

Rick’s Thursday night address was captivating and bold and creative, as were many of the workshops.

The URJ Professional leadership didn’t shy away from the tough issues facing congregations and our relationships with the URJ and the world, but they weren’t defeatist or depressive. The Campaign for Youth Engagement is serious, compelling, and resourced.

Friday night’s D’var Torah was a personal, clarion call to engage in gun violence prevention on the eve of the first anniversary of Sandy Hook. We celebrated Women of Reform Judaism and Anat Hoffman, who lifts our souls and whose tenacious advocacy for an Israel hospitable to our values and our dignity and our worth is prophetic.

At Biennial, we wept together, as colleagues and friends, for Phyllis and Michael Sommer, as they held their dying son Superman Sam, who was their son and touched all our hearts. The bitter and the sweet, darkness and light, together.

In Chicago 87, I met Dolores Wilkenfeld, a strong, elegant, gracious leader of WRJ. She was a courageous role model, a visionary supporter of NFTY and women’s reproductive health care. On motzei Shabbat, I embraced Dolores again. She’s a bit older now, as WRJ celebrates their 100th Anniversary and NFTY 75th. But seeing her, remembering all that we have done and become in the past quarter century, I was transported back to the future. Old friends, a new beginning.

1395226_10201045463995621_1517806018_nTo all the URJ leadership, professional and lay, who organized this Biennial 13; for all our colleagues who taught sessions and lead worship and embraced each other with ideas and weeping and tenderness; for everyone who continues to challenge us to be the most creative, welcoming, inviting movement in Jewish life, who demands we surpass our prophetic ideals of justice and compassion, who will settle for nothing less than spiritual excellence, I lift up my heart in my hands and offer deep, profound, humble gratitude. Thank you.

Rabbi Michael Adam Latz serves Shir Tikvah Congregation in Minneapolis, MN.