Category: Social Justice

Categories
Passover Pesach Prayer Social Justice

When It’s Time to Stop Praying and Start Marching

Two weekends ago, many of us took to the streets with our communities to “March For Our Lives,” and last weekend we welcomed the festival of Passover, which makes this a good time to remember that the Torah tells us “thoughts and prayers” can only do so much; we need action to move forward.

In Exodus 14 we read that when the Israelites were stopped at the shore of the Sea of Reeds with the Egyptians fast approaching behind them, Moses began to pray. The people were distressed and feared for their lives and were demanding action — and Moses offered prayers. God said to Moses, “Why do you cry out to Me? Tell the Israelites to go forward. Lift up your rod and hold out your arm over the sea and split it, so that the Israelites may march into the sea on dry ground.” The Torah is pretty clear that there is a time for words, but when trapped between the Egyptians and the Sea, it’s time for action.

Our sages expanded on this idea in the Talmud, which teaches us that as the Jews were standing at the shore of the sea, Moses was prolonging his prayer. God said to him, “My beloved ones are drowning in the sea and you prolong your prayer to me?” Moses replied, “But what can I do?” God said, “Speak to the children of Israel and tell them to go forward. And you, lift up your rod and stretch out your hand.”

There’s a midrash that imagines God saying, “My loved ones are drowning in the sea, and the sea is raging, and the foe is pursuing, and you stand and wax long in prayer?” To which Moses replied, “God of the universe, what can I do?” And this is when God replies with the words from Exodus 14.

A story in the Talmud teaches that while Moses was busy praying, one person — Nachshon — stepped into the sea and began to walk. Nachshon had faith that God would see them to safety on the other side, and demonstrated his faith by stepping into the water.

Even in a tradition that annually celebrates the miracle of the parting of the Red Sea, it is clear that we can not just cry out or send “thoughts and prayers” – we must take action. Faith is not waiting around for God to do the work, but taking that first step – speaking out and raising your hand.

That is what the teens are trying to teach us: there is a time for thoughts and prayers (and often that is where we find comfort in the face of tragedy), but the Torah teaches us that when you life is in danger, you don’t stand around praying; you have to speak to the people and take action.

This is faith. Not that God will fix it, but that we have within us the power to change the world for the better; that even when it looks as if there is no way forward, we can find a way; that even when enemies are fast approaching and threatening us, we have the strength to keep going. Faith is working together to bring a future where everyone is free from violence.

—

Rabbi Shawna Brynjegard-Bialik is an artist at Paper Midrash and also blogs on her personal blog.

Categories
Passover Pesach Social Justice

In Every Generation

A Reading for Pesach 5778*

In every generation

We come out of Egypt.

Let freedom ring.

In every generation

We stand up to Pharaoh.

Let freedom ring.

In every generation

We part the waters.

Let freedom ring.

In every generation

We march toward the Promised Land.

Let freedom ring.

In every generation

We teach our children.

Let freedom ring.

In every generation

Our children teach us.

Let freedom ring.

In every generation

We march for our lives.

Let freedom ring.

 

In this generation

Columbine, Sandy Hook, Virginia Tech- we march for our lives.

Let freedom ring.

In this generation

Orlando, Las Vegas, Parkland- we march for our lives.

Let freedom ring.

In this generation

Two hundred sixty five million guns fill our country- we march for our lives.

Let freedom ring.

In this generation

Ninety seven souls die from gun violence each and every day- we march for our lives.

Let freedom ring.

In this generation

Young and old, black and white, Jew and gentile…said enough; enough.

Let freedom ring.

 

*Participants at the seder are invited to echo the repeating lines.

—

Rabbi Barry L. Schwartz serves The Jewish Publication Society in Philadelphia and Congregation Adas Emuno in Leonia, NJ.

Categories
Gun Control Social Justice

Praying With Our Feet at the March For Our Lives in Washington, DC

Dear Friends,

I write this while on a plane en route from our nation’s capital after having shared in a remarkable and life-changing Shabbat experience. On Friday night, I was honored to be asked by my dear friend, Rabbi Bruce Lustig, to participate in an Erev Shabbat service at Washington Hebrew Congregation along with other musicians including Dan Nichols, Stacy Beyer, Noah Aronson and Alan Goodis. Our Director of Youth Engagement, Megan Garrett, and two parent chaperones also accompanied a delegation of several of our teens.  They spent the night in the Synagogue along with over 450 young people from across the country. During the service,we were joined on the Bema by several young people who spoke – many who were students at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida.  Others were leaders of their NFTY regions.  After the service, my musical colleagues and I led a short concert and song-session during which I sang the protest anthem that Steve Brodsky and I co-wrote, “Praying With Our Feet.”  While the music was an important part of the evening, the primary focus was on the teenagers. The poise, pain and incredible leadership that these young people displayed while sharing their stories was both moving and inspiring.

On Shabbat morning, the entire NFTY delegation and many other adults prayed together in a pre-rally Shabbat service.  We were joined by many dignitaries – including Debbie Wasserman Shultz – the US Congresswoman who represents Parkland, Florida, and Rabbi Rick Jacobs who addressed the congregation via video feed. But once again, the major focus of the service were the young people who led us in prayer and song.  There was one incredibly moving moment towards the end of the service when my friend and colleague, Rabbi Brad Boxman, who serves a congregation in Parkland, FL, shared how, on the first Shabbat following the shootings, he asked all of the adults in his packed sanctuary to turn to the children who sat with and near them and bless them.  He then asked all of us who were present to do the same.  As we placed our hands on the heads of these beautiful teenagers and said the words of the Priestly blessing together, tears flowed freely down our faces. You see, we knew that we had come to DC to protest. We knew that change had to come. We were charged and ready. But there was something about praying for God’s protective blessing on these precious, beautiful souls that shifted our focus and made everything very real. We were not about to march for a cause: we were marching for our children’s lives.  And then we started our journey to the rally.
We carried signs and banners with sacred texts:
  • “If not now, when?”
  • ‘It is not up to you to finish the task, but neither are you free to desist from carrying it out.”
  • “Do not stand idly by while your neighbor bleeds”
We chanted, we sang, we enjoyed a beautiful sunny day. But our march soon came to a halt when we realized that there were so many people filling the streets that we could only go a few blocks. Every space in the street surrounding the Capital was filled.  But it didn’t matter. We watched on video screens, heard from loudspeakers and felt the determination in the million other marchers who were with us. We came from all walks of life – all colors and creeds – but we shared in our determination to speak up and say enough:
  • Enough killing;
  • Enough pretending that the issue is not guns, but people;
  • Enough ignoring the plight of people of color;
  • Enough manipulation from the gun lobby;
  • Enough silence from legislators who are afraid to address the issue of easy access to weapons of mass destruction.

This was not a political rally – although, after today’s events, many politicians will be worried about keeping their seats – and they should be. We marched for moral, not partisan reasons. This was not, as some have charged, a volley of Left Wing talking points – it was a rising up of a generation raised in the shadows of Columbine, Sandy Hook, Aurora, Las Vegas, Parkland and too many other tragedies that have been lost in the endless cycle of shootings that have become yesterday’s news.

The rock stars and celebrities who were on stage were not the focus of the rally either. No, it was the children- the survivors who have taken on the mantle of leadership – who stirred our souls and compelled us to action. We heard about the toll that daily violence on the streets of Chicago, Los Angeles and Washington DC has taken. We wept along with speakers who had lost brothers and sisters to bullets. We heard the passion of the newly-energized victims of school shootings who have watched as the adults in their lives relinquished the responsibility of protecting them and, as a result, have taken it upon themselves to give notice to their elected officials that silence is complicity, and that they refuse to remain silent.

As I contemplate this remarkable 24 hours, I am in awe. The vision, poise, leadership and power that these young activists have discovered gives me hope that not all is lost, and that the future will be in good hands. I also am more determined than ever to both speak out against and call out the hypocrisy and callous disregard for human life that the gun lobby and its enablers have fostered in our society.

Let me be very clear:  I am not opposed to guns per se. I am, however, opposed to the idolatry that gun worship has spawned in our nation. We owe it to our children to speak out as loud and proud as they do. They have taken on the mantle of leadership. I am compelled to follow. Will you join with me?

We can do no less.

—
Rabbi Joe Black serves Temple Emanuel in Denver, Colorado.  This blog was originally posted on his personal blog. 
Categories
Books Passover Pesach Social Justice

Moral Resistance and Spiritual Authority: The Obligations of Our Exodus

In anticipation of the release of CCAR Press’s newest book, Moral Resistance and Spiritual Authority: Our Jewish Obligation to Social Justice, we’ve invited Rabbi Jonah Dov Pesner, co-editor of the book, to share an excerpt of the book on Passover. Moral Resistance and Spiritual Authority is now available for pre-order from CCAR Press.

A couple of months ago I was arrested in the grand rotunda of the Russell Building of the United States Senate. Nearly one hundred Jewish clergy and leaders joined in song and prayer, demanding that the United States Congress pass the DREAM Act, which would grant citizenship to the nearly eight hundred thousand Dreamers who came to the United States as children and are every bit American as my own daughters. As we sang “Olam Chesed Yibaneh” (“We will build this world with love”) over and over again, hundreds of Dreamers stood cheering us on from the balcony, ringing us like a human halo. In an intentionally ironic twist on the famous cry from Moses to Pharaoh, we chanted, “Let our people stay!”

When we were handcuffed, removed by the Capitol Police, and placed under arrest, we understood that we were following directly in the footsteps of our ancient Israelite ancestors. Ironically, our being put into fetters was inspired by the Hebrew slaves, who rose up from their slavery in Egypt and cast off the chains of Pharaoh’s bondage in their journey to redemption. As our hands were locked in cuffs and we were led away, we chanted the verse taken from the Song at the Sea “Ozi v’zimrat Yah, vah’yi li lishuah,” “God is my strength and might, and will be my salvation” (Exodus 15:2). There seemed no words more fitting than those our ancient Israelite ancestors sang as they passed through the parted seas of their redemption.

Even as we were led into police custody, our group understood that we were walking in the footsteps of countless generations of Jews before us, generations who internalized the Rabbinic mandate in the Passover Haggadah that “it is incumbent on every generation to see itself as if they themselves—every person—had personally escaped from Egypt” (Babylonian Talmud, P’sachim 116b). Our deeds of civil disobedience were an act of moral resistance to the injustices being perpetrated on the Dreamers, along with tens of millions of other immigrants and refugees. We acted on the spiritual authority inherited from recent leaders like Rabbis Richard Hirsch, Abraham Joshua Heschel, and Maurice Eisendrath, who marched with Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. because they internalized the most often repeated commandment in all of Torah: “You shall love the stranger, because you were a stranger in the land of Egypt” (Leviticus 19:34). Jews have marched throughout history because the core narrative of our people, the defining master story of our tradition, is the archetypal tale of redemption. Our Exodus from Egypt is the story of the transformation of the world-as-it-is, in which “strangers” are continually crushed by oppression, into the world-as-it-should-be, one where all people know justice. The power of the Jewish master narrative lies in its inherent call to every generation to live empathy; because our ancestors were strangers, we—in this era, and in every era—are to love the stranger.

Jews not only retell the master story of redemption throughout our ritual and cultural life; we have relived it throughout history. Our history has served to reinforce the most central exhortation of our Exodus narrative: we are obligated to love the stranger as ourself.

Among the many gleanings of the Exodus narrative that ground Jewish life and values, three stand out as the sources of the spiritual authority demanding that Jews resist injustice and champion morality in every age (and regardless of the challenges we face). First, we learn not only that resistance is required by our faith and experience, but also that it is always possible. Second, we are reminded that our empathy extends beyond the “stranger” to all those who are vulnerable in our midst. Finally, we instill in our souls that the Exodus is not simply about freedom from bondage; our master story culminates with the agency to enter into a covenantal community in which all people are bound to one another.

—

Rabbi Jonah Dov Pesner serves as the Director of the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism. He has led the Religious Action Center since 2015. Rabbi Pesner also serves as Senior Vice President of the Union for Reform Judaism. Named one of the most influential rabbis in America by Newsweek magazine, he is an inspirational leader, creative entrepreneur, and tireless advocate for social justice.  Rabbi Pesner is the co-editor of CCAR Press’s  upcoming book, Moral Resistance and Spiritual Authority: Our Jewish Obligation to Social Justice, as well as a contributor to Seven Days, Many Voices: Insights into the Biblical Story of Creation.

Moral Resistance and Spiritual Authority: Our Jewish Obligation to Social Justice is now available for pre-order from CCAR Press. 

Categories
Convention Social Justice

Social Justice at CCAR Convention: We Stand at a Crossroads

When we gathered in Orange County in November of 2016 to begin planning for the upcoming CCAR Convention, we recognized immediately that, like the interchanges of the Southern California freeway system, we stood at a crossroads and that we were all being challenged to figure out which direction we would take.  The challenges we are presented with on a daily basis invite us to find a way to navigate between the spiritual, professional and civic engagement pathways that our roles as rabbis and our faith as Jews require of us.

As we inch closer to convention, I am looking forward to the many opportunities for us to learn more and engage with Social Justice leaders and thinkers on topics that are rising to the topic of our concerns.  Every day of convention will have moments that will help us learn how we can advance the many concerns we have as Reform Jews.  Through conversations with champions of Social Justice, we will be able to think deeply about the directions we might take in our own communities when we stand at our own crossroads.  I would like to take a moment to highlight the many Social Justice learning opportunities we have throughout convention.

We stand at a crossroads about the protection of our civil rights.  The Supreme Court of the United States exists to interpret the constitutionality of our laws.  Inherent in that is the protection of the civil rights guaranteed to us by the constitution.  To open convention, journalist Dahlia Lithwick will discuss with us “The Battle for the future of America at the Supreme Court.”  This session will help frame our thinking as to how we as rabbis navigate the crossroads that strive to ensure the protection of the values we strive to safeguard.

We stand at a crossroads of Civic Engagement.  At convention we will have sessions with California Elected officials, Mayor of Los Angeles, Eric Garcetti, Mayor of Sacramento, Darrell Steinberg and State Controller, Betty Yee.  On Tuesday evening, we will turn our focus to one of the most pressing issues of the day, Gun Violence Protection.  So many of us are motivated to make a lasting change that will prevent what happened in Parkland and the many other communities affected by gun violence from happening again.  CA state Attorney General Xavier Becerra will address gun policy in California and his recent victory defending California’s law at the Supreme Court.

We stand at a crossroads of Health Care policy.  Tuesday at convention will focus on health care.  With changes to the ACA and the challenges many of our colleagues face when it comes to health care access, we will turn to national policy expert John McDonough who will speak to current and future states of Health Care reform.  McDonough served as a Senior Advisor on National Health Reform to the U.S. Senate Committee on Health, Education, Labor and Pensions where he worked on the development and passage of the Affordable Care Act.

We stand at a crossroads on Immigration concerns.  To conclude convention, we will have a conversation with Mark Hetfield, CEO of HIAS.  HIAS has led the way supporting refugees and immigrants in our communities.  We will spend time learning about the impact we need to make moving forward.  Monday afternoon will also feature a workshop on “The Escalation of Removal” where we will learn about the power of immigrant voices in our world today.

We stand a crossroads of navigating the religious imperative to do pursue justice.  With the increasing polarization of our communities, we often stand on thin ice when it comes to the balance of Jewish values compared with political ideologies.  Wednesday morning will feature a conversation with Sister Simon Campbell, “The Nun on the Bus” and Jonathan Cohen, about how we navigate this tension.  Sister Simone is a trailblazer in her community and her voice was instrumental in the passing of the Affordable Care Act.  Her bus tours have opened up lines of communication to understand what matters to the heart of Americans.  She is elevated the voice of the poor and of immigrants.

Lastly, there will also be workshops by the RAC leadership on the Urgency of Now and also on the Mass Incarceration.

I look forward to seeing you in Orange County as we navigate the heavy traffic of the Social Justice arena.

—

Rabbi Rick Kellner serves Congregation Beth Tikvah in Columbus, Ohio and is the co-chair of the 2018 CCAR Convention in Orange County. 

Categories
Israel Rabbis Social Justice

Speak to the children of Israel, saying: ‘Appoint for yourselves cities of refuge’

Jewish history is peppered by tragic events. These are just a few:

1182 – the expulsion of the Jews of France
1290 – the expulsion of the Jews of England
1306 – the great expulsion from France: tens of thousands of Jews infiltrate into Belgium and Spain
1351 – large numbers of Jews infiltrate into Poland
1492 – the expulsion from Spain: tens of thousands of Jews infiltrate into Central Europe, North Africa, and the Ottoman Empire, including my own family, which is scattered in Austria, Italy, and Crete
1507 – the expulsion of the Jews of Italy, Sicily, and Sardinia
1881-1914 – hundreds of thousands of Jews infiltrate into Europe and the United States
1939 – the SS St. Louis, carrying 939 Jewish refugees, sails from country to country begging for asylum

We are all the children, grandchildren, and descendants of asylum seekers and refugees! Refugee-hood is embedded in the Jewish DNA and accordingly we cannot stand by and remain silent in the face of expulsion.

Israel is currently home to 26,563 asylum seekers from Eritrea, 7,624 from Sudan, and 2,638 from various other African countries. Of these, 7,000 are women; approximately 2,000 are victims of torture in Sinai and of trafficking in women; and approximately 1,500 are single men imprisoned at the Holot detention camp. The population of minors is around 5,000 – 7,000.

The Migration Authority is recruiting immigration inspectors who will be responsible for distributing deportation orders, organizing documents for “voluntary departure” and other administrative functions, and examining the RDC applications that have already been submitted. Since January 1, 2018, the authorities are not accepting any new asylum applications. In the present stage, children, women, and parents responsible for their children’s well-being are not to be deported.

When the authorities wish to foment hatred among the majority against a specific group, they accuse the group of constituting a threat to society at large: They are taking our jobs; they are parasites (or worse – a cancer in the back of the nation); they are criminals who are ruining our neighborhoods; they will take over the country; they are the reason for unemployment/crime/diseases, and so forth. Pharaoh made exactly the same allegations against the Children of Israel:

“And he said to his people: ‘See, the people of the children of Israel are too many and too mighty for us. Come, let us deal wisely with them, lest they multiply, and it come to pass, in the event of war, that they also join themselves unto our enemies, and fight against us, and get them up out of the land.’” (Exodus 1:9-10)

The State of Israel was one of the sponsors of the UN Refugees Convention at a time when Europe was flooded with Jewish refugees in the aftermath of the Holocaust. Israel defines itself as a “Jewish state.” Yet now Israel intends to deport thousands of asylum seekers from Africa who fled for their lives. By so doing, it is violating the Biblical commandment “Do not stand idly by your neighbor’s blood” (Leviticus 19:16). Israel plans to deport the asylum seekers to countries that are still recovering from bloodbaths and are not capable of absorbing an additional traumatized population.

As we stood at the foot of Mt. Sinai we declared: “We will do and we will understand.” We undertook to observe the constitution that turns us into a nation. At that moment, not knowing that we ourselves would time after time find ourselves strangers in a strange land, we promised that in our own land we would show great love for the stranger.

In Exodus we read: “You know the heart of a stranger, because you were strangers in the land of Egypt” (Exodus 23:9). The word “stranger” appears 92 times in the Bible in various forms, underlining the sensitivity of Jewish tradition to the condition and status of the non-Jew. Now, as a sovereign people in our own land, we have forgotten this!

Some 90 years before Herzl wrote The Old New Land and the Jewish people began to dream of establishing its own state, Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch commented: “Therefore beware – so the text warns – of making rights in your own state conditional on anything other than on that pure humanity that dwells in the heart of every human being per se. With any limitation in these human rights, a gate is opened to the whole horror of Egypt.” (Commentary on Exodus 22:20) Violating the rights of asylum seekers and deporting them to the unknown is the “horror of Egypt!”

And so, three Reform rabbis – Rabbi Susan Silverman, Rabbi Nava Hefetz, and Rabbi Tamara Schagas – have launched an initiative called Miklat Israel (“Israel refuge.”) The goal of the initiative is to urge the general public in Israel to defend asylum seekers facing lethal danger.

In just two weeks, 1,000 families and individuals from throughout Israel promised to hide asylum seekers. We also contacted the kibbutz movement and some 1,500 members of kibbutzim across the country have also agreed to help.

We are in regular contact with the leaders of the asylum seekers’ communities and are working in full cooperation with them. Jewish tradition demands that we cherish the sanctity of every human life, created in God’s image – and all the more so the lives of people liable to be deported to uncertainty and danger. We believe that the decision by the Israeli government to deport the asylum seekers is a grossly unlawful one, and that we must struggle to remove this proposal from the agenda of Israeli society.

We urge you, our sisters and brothers in North America and around the world, to join our campaign to defend the asylum seekers in Israel. Make your voices heard loudly and help us avert the evil decree. You can contact us at miklatisrael@gmail.com

“Zion shall be redeemed with justice, and they that return of her with righteousness” (Isaiah 1:27)

—

Rabbi Nava Hefetz serves Miklat Israel, and is the Director of Education at Rabbis for Human Rights. 

 

Categories
Social Justice

How Social Justice Work Blossoms in One Congregation

I have always had a passion for social justice, both in my career as a television producer and in that as a rabbi. Over my nearly ten years at Temple Beth El (TBE), I have pursued this work with interfaith partners but rarely with my own congregation. There is a twofold reason for this. One, when I first arrived, the congregation had been through a decade of revolving door rabbis and was emotionally scarred and diffident. I determined that my job was to heal the wounds, not to rally folks around causes. Two, TBE had no history or culture of social justice engagement. I make a distinction between social justice and social action. Feeding the homeless is social action, and many of our congregants are involved in that. Addressing the causes of hunger or homelessness is social justice, and this is where we have not participated.

A little over a year ago, the Union for Reform Judaism (URJ) offered a Community of Practice called “Bringing Justice to the Center.” This was a two-year training program in how to engage one’s congregation in this work. I immediately signed up with two lay leaders, Diana Goldman and Dalia Martinez. Over the past year, we attended monthly webinars, consulted with our coach, Lee Winkleman, and began the process of community organizing. This involved finding folks who would hold one-on-one conversations as well as house meetings with other congregants to determine how they viewed the brokenness of the world and what their vision of a more perfect society looked like. Eventually, the idea would be to find an issue we could all work on together, an issue that would represent systemic change.

Our congregation is pretty solidly middle class. There are not many people of means and leisure: the vast majority of our younger families have two working parents who also spend a great deal of time shepherding their children to a wide variety of activities. Our older congregants have, for the most part, been there, done that. They want to enjoy life and spend their time with friends, family and, particularly, grandchildren. All to say that this model of community organizing, where people need to step up as leaders and take ownership of the process on a consistent and long-term basis, did not work for us. We conducted some one-on-ones and some house meetings, but the appetite for undertaking advocacy work on the part of a majority of the congregation was not there.

On the other hand, through this process, we were able to identify 15-20 people who were enthusiastic and eager to become involved in some way. It became clear that a different model was appropriate for us: rather than a grassroots effort which characterizes community organizing, we needed a more grass tops one. I found that, if I proposed an action, I could rally these 15-20 congregants to join me in the work of Reform CA whose leadership team I am on. Reform CA, the West Coast arm of the Reform movement’s Religious Action Center, determines which California legislation to support, and educates our congregations about the issues involved prior to lobbying our state representatives to vote in favor of these bills. I have had success in bringing TBE members for legislative visits, both here in Riverside and in Sacramento, to make phone calls to constituents, to educate other congregants, and to attend a regional meeting of Reform CA. Indeed, with 11 people from TBE attending the Los Angeles area gathering of Reform CA in early December, we had the largest delegation of any congregation by far.

My congregants and I learned that it takes a lot of hard work and dedication to be effective social change agents, and that it is absolutely essential to work in coalitions. With Reform CA, we have been able to join forces, not only with other Reform congregations, but also with partners such as the national network of faith-based community organizations, PICO, and the ACLU.

I am grateful to the URJ and to Lee Winkelman for helping guide us on this path. I know we will continue to do important work in the year ahead.

—

Rabbi Suzanne Singer serves Temple Beth El in Riverside, CA.

Categories
Social Justice

Social Justice in 2018: Not for Ourselves

A cherished friend of mine, a Christian working as a Synagogue Administrator, once asked me, “How are the same people both conservative with the congregation’s money and so liberal politically?” Her observation was mostly accurate; the Board members eager to grow the Temple’s budget were as much in the minority as the political conservatives.

I answered: “Jews are commanded to remember the heart of the stranger. We take that seriously. Yes, we may fit in here in America now, but Jews acutely remember when we were despised, outcast, and impoverished. Therefore, we identify with those who are vulnerable, and we advocate for their interests more even than our own.” Viewed in this light, our social justice priorities are largely shaped by the welfare of others. Temple finances, on the other hand, are strictly about the health of our own institution.

Upon reflection, though, my answer was too simplistic. A political conservative may be just as concerned about the poor as the liberal, with different philosophy about how best to benefit those in need. Moreover, some of our social justice advocacy – on behalf of Israel, for example; or protecting the separation of church and state – is self-interested.

Perhaps the most problematic part of my answer, though, was that we are far from the only Americans with a history of persecution. Unlike other ethnic or religious groups that are mostly white and at least middle income, though, American Jews remain strongly identified with our historic vulnerability and that of many people around us. What makes us different?

Why are so many American Jews deeply worried that Dreamers may soon face deportation? Yes, a Jewish DACA beneficiary or two has been identified; but most American Jews today are neither immigrants nor the children of immigrants. Why have we made a priority of compassionate immigration reform when so many other groups who share our immigrant history have not?

Why is our Reform Movement mobilized to protect access to health care for the tens of millions of Americans who gained health insurance through the Affordable Care Act? Yes, more than a few of us have ACA policies, but still more of us benefit from the tax reform that imperiled ACA’s viability by removing the individual mandate. Other demographically-similar groups tend to take the view opposite our Movement’s.

At the dawn of 2018, a century removed from the end of the last mass wave of Jewish immigration, we may think that we are motivated by our immigrant history, but we are more likely inspired by our religion itself. Torah is the reason. Thirty-six times, Torah reminds us that we must pay attention to the welfare of the stranger, having been oppressed as strangers in Egypt.

As we welcome 2018, in an era when the fastest-growing religious identity in this country is “none,” American Jews, even the self-proclaimed atheists among us, still believe: We are here to make the world a better place. We are duty-bound to seek the welfare of the most vulnerable in our midst. We are grateful that most American Jews are neither needy nor oppressed, and Torah turns that gratitude into action.

 —

Rabbi Barry H. Block serves Congregation B’nai Israel in Little Rock, Arkansas, and is a member of the CCAR Board of Trustees.

Categories
Social Justice

Putting the Mitzvah Back into B’nai Mitzvah

About two years ago, my friend and teacher Rabbi Peter Levi described his daughter’s Bat Mitzvah service. Instead of doing the early part of the morning blessings, they would sing a couple of introductory songs, leave the sanctuary, and enter the social hall for a social action project where they would pack boxes of grains and canned goods for the homeless. I admit that when I heard the idea, I was nonplussed. Seeing the look on my face, Rabbi Levi put his hand on my shoulder and said, “It’s called a Bat Mitzvah, not a Bat T’filah.”

My mind was opened.

He made me realize the whole issue I have with our B’nai Mitzvah rubric as it has been for years. We want to create engaged Jewish adults, and we are creating cookie-cutter kids who will be able to their their kids, “You’ll do it because I suffered through it, too,” just like we are telling ours. So after hearing Rabbi Levi’s simple sentence, I began to plan.

At Congregation B’nai Tzedek, we hold a semi-annual “B’nai Mitzvah Boot Camp,” where I gather the students who will become B’nai Mitzvah within the following nine to sixteen months. We discuss the four things a child has to accomplish before they can receive the title of Jewish Adult: Lead services, Teach through a D’var Torah, Commit to a Mitzvah, and Give Tzedakah. Lead, Teach, Mitzvah, Tzedakah. As much as this talk may inspire them, which I hope it does, it still leads to the same thing. The children lead a service, have a party, give tzedakah, and maybe remember to keep doing their mitzvah.

Some kids have an easy time with this they enjoy it, they love performing and they thrive on the bimah. Others struggle.

In thinking about Rabbi Levi’s words, I wanted to encourage our emerging Jewish adults to make their B’nai Mitzvah experience more personally meaningful. But first I needed a guinea pig.

I had known Jonas Holdaway for nearly four years when he and his parents sat in my office to discuss his upcoming Bar Mitzvah experience. I knew he was already a passionate giver of his time and resources, and I asked him a question. Knowing that the requirements of becoming a Bar Mitzvah are still Leading, Teaching, Mitzvah, and Tzedakah, is there one he would like to highlight over the others? Jonas chose Mitzvah. He wanted to make sandwiches for the hungry, and he already had an idea for his guests to participate with him. I asked him if he would like to cut out some of the prayers from the morning service and do that as a part of his Saturday morning celebration.

After a few months of planning and organizing, Jonas became a Bar Mitzvah on September 9, 2017. He did a spectacular job of reading Torah and leading some of the prayers, but the best part was when he started to teach after just two introductory songs. The look on the faces of the regulars was priceless. They were intrigued as to why he might be speaking at this point. He spoke eloquently about how important feeding the hungry is to him and his family. He spoke about volunteering at soup kitchens and making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and then he told his guests that they would be making sandwiches and sack lunches for the hungry that very morning.

We ushered his guests into the Social Hall where Jonas had set up stations for packing bag lunches. One table made sandwiches, another decorated bags, a third put apples and cookies into bags, and there were boxes for collecting the finished lunches. Participants went from station to station, making two or more lunches, which Jonas took the following day to Someone Cares Soup Kitchen in Costa Mesa. After boxing up 346 lunches, Jonas led the congregation in the rest of the worship service, including reading beautifully from the Torah.

Jonas allowed us all to feel uplifted that Shabbat morning, showing us what it really means to be a Bar Mitzvah, a Jewish man committed to the commandments. The service Jonas led and the experience he had was much more of a revolution, and he has inspired future nigh-13-year-olds to have the same choice.

Instead of doing the same service their peers do, each student at CBT from this point on will be taught that the four things they need to do are Lead, Teach, Mitzvah, and Tzedakah, but whichever one they put at the forefront is up to them. If they want to break from services to organize a social action project for the community, or organize a longer lesson plan that allows us to dive deep into the weekly Torah portion, or even coordinate a fundraiser that will bring tzedakah to a cause about which they are passionate, any of these things can be the focus of their B’nai Mitzvah service. Of course, if Leading services is their passion, they will lead a great service. They will do what we did, but they won’t be dragged to it. They will take on the helm of B’nai Mitzvah with passion, and God willing, they will stay connected to the Jewish community by their own choice, because they will know that they are part of a revolution.

—

Rabbi David N. Young serves Congregation B’nai Tzedek in Fountain Valley, California.