Categories
CCAR on the Road General CCAR Prayer Rabbis

What Makes for Great Prayer?: Reflections on the NFTY Convention

2013-02-15 20.03.26Last week, I was given a wonderfully challenging task as the CCAR rabbinic staff member at the NFTY Convention:  Take fifty participants from the Youth Engagement Conference and a two-hour prayer lab session, and plan multiple services for about 900 NFTY Convention participants.  While seemingly impossible, I jumped at the opportunity.   After all, we produce Visual T’filah and all the prayer books for the Reform Movement – I could do this!

Working with my colleague Rabbi Noam Katz and Jewish musician Dan Nichols, (and joined by Rabbis Erin Mason and Ana Bonheim) we were tempted to provide a handful of creative service examples (e.g. drumming, yoga, Visual T’filah) and to plan the services as quickly as possible.

But the conference was on youth engagement and simply presenting options and saying “pick one and go plan a service” did not seem to be an appropriate fit – and not consistent with CCAR’s current approach toward engaging people in prayer with many different Visual T’filah options.  It was a lab, after all; we did not want to focus too much on product, but rather the service experience by the NFTYites.

We initiated the YEC prayer lab by asking the participants “what makes for great prayer?”

2013-02-18 09.43.15This conversation was modeled upon a version of Open Space, one of the frameworks for intentional conversations guiding the CCAR convention beginning just a few weeks after NFTY Convention.

YEC participants stood up one at a time and offered to host conversations around a topic of prayer particularly interesting or exciting to them.  Topics included Hebrew in prayer, who is the service leader, using apps & cellphones in services, engaging through multiple intelligences, and more. Rather than utilizing the moment to plan a service, we spent our time talking about great prayer.  The prayer lab participants were fully engaged, far more than if we had simply given them pre-determined service options, and we provided an amazing model for them to bring back to their youth groups.

And it worked! YEC prayer lab participants exclaimed that this was one of the highlights of the conference for them.  One even said, “This is exactly what I needed.”  Even more, the prayer experiences they crafted were some of the best moments of NFTY convention for the participants.  One teenager said in reflection, “This was my first real moment of transcendent prayer.”

As the Youth Engagement professionals gathered at the end of the conference for a debrief and wrap-up, I was asked to summarize our learning and said:  “We often hear that ‘if you build it, they will come.’  If you build a great service or program, the youth with come. But we learned through this prayer experience that ‘if you build it with them, they’ll already be there!”

Categories
CCAR Convention CCAR on the Road

CCAR Conventions, Then and Now

CCAR Convention, 2012
CCAR Convention, 2012

I wonder how many CCAR conventions I have been to over the years.  I remember the first.  It was in Pittsburgh and I had just been ordained. As I walked up to the L-Z registration line, I was scared and excited until a lovely volunteer pulled me aside.  “The registration line for the wives is over there,” she said kindly while pointing across the room.   This memory surfaced recently when I  told a friend I was going to the CCAR conference and she asked if I enjoy it.  I do now, I said.

Those early conventions are pretty much lost in the haze of the years, but I remember moments like that.  Since there weren’t many female rabbis, we all ended up being cycled and recycled through the various committees.  In those years, there would only ever be one woman on any given committee. I remember once being on the Nominating Committee and suggesting two female names.  We already have a woman, I was told.

All that seems like ancient history now although it was a mere 30+ years ago.  For all that we wonder at times whether anything has changed, it turns out that much has changed, at least when it comes to the CCAR. We now come together with intention, defined by what we do as rabbis, not by our gender or sexual orientation.   We take for granted that two of the five rabbinic members of our senior CCAR  staff are women.  Our immediate past president is a woman.  Women have chaired our convention planning.  The WRN is an ex-officio member of the CCAR board. The brochure for this next conference calls the CCAR  “the organization for every Reform rabbi, retired, community-based, congregational, part-time, portfolio and full-time.”

The year I was directed to the wives’ registration line at that Pittsburgh Conference, the overwhelming membership of the Conference held congregational positions.  My friends in Hillel simply didn’t bother coming since there was nothing there for them in the program (as well as a feeling of being invisible in contrast to the pulpit rabbis).  The part-time rabbinate existed only for retired rabbis who still wanted to keep a hand in pulpit life.  The rabbinate was a much narrower place.

And, in a not-so-well-kept secret,  it turns out that not all male colleagues enjoyed CCAR conventions.  Many of my friends joked about the “how big is yours” syndrome.  They complained that the very convention that should allow us to relax and be ourselves often turned out to be a bastion of judgment and competition.  They also wanted to talk about their personal doubts, their professional conflicts, and the challenges of balancing the rabbinate with family.  They, too, yearned for a different, more truly collegial experience.

For many years after I left the full-time congregational rabbinate, I stopped coming to CCAR conventions.  All kinds of considerations came into play. I served a part-time congregation without the financial resources to send me to conferences.  I would have had to cancel patients in my private practice, which had both economic and psychological consequences.  Since I was self-employed and funded my own vacations, I needed to be selective about how much time I spent away.  If the choice came down to going to the CCAR convention versus going to visit my children, my children won.

Rabbi Ellen Lewis at 2012 CCAR Convention with Rabbis Michael Weinberg, Rabbi Ellen Weinberg Dreyfus, and Rabbi Steve Fox.
Rabbi Ellen Lewis at 2012 CCAR Convention with Rabbis Michael Weinberg, Rabbi Ellen Weinberg Dreyfus, and Rabbi Steve Fox.

While all of the above reasons seemed valid at the time, I also confess that I wasn’t as drawn to going to the convention as I am now.  For many years, the CCAR didn’t feel like the organization for every Reform rabbi, or at least not the organization for this Reform rabbi. The happy confluence of women’s entering the rabbinate and society’s undergoing parallel shifts has sparked many positive changes in the rabbinate and in our conference. We all know that there are changes yet to come, as acknowledged by the title of this conference (Rabbis Leading the Shift: Jewish Possibility in a Rapidly Changing World).   I am happy about returning to these conferences.  I am excited about seeing old and new friends.  And yes, I plan to enjoy it.

 

Rabbi Ellen Lewis (www.rabbiellenlewis.com) has a particular interest in the integration of religious and psychoanalytical concepts and has worked at developing models of clinical supervision for rabbis, cantors, and other religious professionals.  In her private practice, she works with rabbis and cantors in therapy and supervision.  After her ordination at Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion in 1980, she served congregations in Dallas, Texas, and Summit, New Jersey, where she was named Rabbi Honorata.  Since 1994, she has been the Rabbi of the Jewish Center of Northwest Jersey in Washington, NJ (www.jcnwj.org).  

Rabbi Lewis is also a certified and licensed modern psychoanalyst in private practice in Bernardsville, New Jersey and in New York City. She received her analytical training in New York at the Center for Modern Psychoanalytic Studies (www.cmps.edu) and at present serves on the faculty of the Academy of Clinical and Applied Psychoanalysis (www.acapnj.org).  She is a Fellow in the American Association of Pastoral Counselors (www.aapc.org). She can be reached via email at rabbiellenlewis@rabbiellenlewis.com or in her NJ office 908 766 7586.

Categories
Ethics General CCAR Reform Judaism

What is – and isn’t – a Rabbi’s Job?

I never imagined that I would be a rabbi of a small congregation.  And yet, for the past ten years I have been the rabbi of a congregation of 150ish families.  (Sometimes it’s 135, sometimes 152 – one thing about the small congregation is that we tend to count obsessively.) There is much about life in a small congregation that I love.  I love that I know everyone – not just their names, but oftentimes their stories too.  I love that it’s easy to notice – and therefore reach out – when someone seems to disappear for a few weeks.  I love that everyone feels like they own the place – people congregate in the kitchen, unlock, set up, and lock the building for b’nai mitzvah, take out the trash on their way out on Friday night.  (Along with leading services on Shabbat morning, teaching book discussions and Hebrew classes, and deciding to take on projects like creating a misheberach tapestry).  

I sometimes struggle with my role as a rabbi in a community with little paid staff and a do-it-yourself ethic. We spend an inordinate amount of time stacking, moving and setting up chairs.  I have moved more chairs – put them into circles, straightened them, added more, taken some away – then I can count. Last Friday night, when cleaning up from the Oneg Shabbat, I was asked, “Rabbi, I think the vacuum cleaner bag is full.  Do you know where the new ones are kept?”  (Variations include, “Rabbi, there is a light burned out in the ladies room.  Do you know where the light bulbs are?”  “Rabbi, do you know how to un-jam the photocopier?”) 

Although I don’t know how to un-jam the photocopier, I do know where the light bulbs and vacuum cleaner bags are kept and sometimes there I am on a Friday night rummaging through the supply cupboard.  Other times, I smile and just say ‘’I don’t know” to these requests.  Sometimes, if it’s been a particularly taxing week, I’ll say, “I’m sorry, I must have been having coffee when that class was taught at rabbinical school.”  

RabbiTorop

Rabbi Torop (center) in the synagogue kitchen making pancakes

I often wonder why people think that being the rabbi means that I know the answers to any of these questions.  Is it because I am the most identifiable ‘staff’ member?  Is it because I am there more than anyone else?  Have I failed to sufficiently practice tzimtzum – and so I find myself at the center of everything, even while believing that I don’t want to be? Is there a gender element as well?

Ten years into my relationship with this synagogue, I still feel ambivalent about all of this ‘non-rabbinic work’.   On the one hand, there are only so many hours in the day and shouldn’t I spend them doing the things that I am uniquely able to do – teaching torah, preaching, pastoring? If I allow myself to be drawn into caretaking, not only is my ability to do other things diminished, but it makes it easier for others to step back, to abdicate responsibility.

On the other hand, what is ‘non-rabbinic work’?   I don’t feel that I am above the jobs of cleaning and copying and shlepping just because I am ‘The Rabbi’.  And surely, working hand in hand with members of our community, taking care of the basic needs as well as the loftier ones, is itself a form of teaching and role modeling?  There is no one paid to do this work – we are all responsible – and figuring how to apportion the responsibilities, share the jobs, and pick up the pieces that get neglected is a challenge that is surely part of creating community.  This is only one of many balancing acts that I struggle with in my small congregation – and if there was a class at rabbinical school in how to keep the proper balance, I must have been out having coffee when it was taught.

 

Rabbi Betsy Torop is a Rabbi at Congregation Beth Shalom in Brandon, Florida.

Categories
Ethics Israel News

And Let Them Make a Sanctuary: Remembering Rabbi David Hartman

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This week we have buried a giant of Judaism.  Rabbi David Hartman, z”l, died on Rosh Chodesh Adar and was buried in Jerusalem.  Rabbi Hartman was my teacher and the founder of the Shalom Hartman Institute where I have been privileged to study over the last number of years.  Rabbi Hartman was a firebrand! An Orthodox rabbi who was anything but orthodox in his thought and deeds.  He challenged your mind and the status quo. He was passionate about learning and critical thinking.  He was demanding of his students and often said provocative things to rile up the conversation. He demanded excellence. He was a force to be reckoned with.

Rabbi Hartman had made aliyah to Israel in 1971 with his wife and five children.  He had been a pulpit rabbi in Montreal and the Bronx.  He had attended Yeshiva University, been ordained a rabbi and had a Ph.D. in philosophy.  He was a prolific writer including works of philosophy and theology such as his book about his teacher and philosopher, Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik; Hartman’s own theology in “A Living Covenant” and two important works about the great philosopher and legalist, Maimonides.  His latest books,  The God Who Hate Lies, and From Defender to Critic: The Search for a New Jewish Self show his own increasing impatience with the Orthodox status quo and its increasing hostility to change and innovation that Hartman found among the rabbis of the Talmud!

Perhaps some of Rabbi’s Hartman’s greatest gifts were his daring in creating an Institute that helped rabbis of all denominations become better rabbis, educators become better educators and creating a space for scholars to explore their learning by writing and research. Studying at his feet a Reform Rabbi like me was able to encounter an Orthodox colleague and share a page of Talmud together while he challenged us to think critically of our past and prepare for a Jewish future.  The Shalom Hartman Institute is a special kind of sanctuary. It is a place of true learning and encounter with God and our tradition.

David Hartman loved rabbis.  He loved rabbis of all sorts.  But he had no time for rabbinic pomposities. Instead he tried to make Rabbi Akiva and Rabbi Tarfon as well as Rambam engage in a dialogue with each of his students.  As a Reform rabbi I always was amazed that Rabbi Hartman eventually adopted a position long held by our movement-whether it was his growing appreciation for the contributions of women to the tradition or his demand that all Jews matter and the chief rabbinate of Israel had it completely wrong to exclude Reform and Conservative Jews.  Hartman was ortho-prax but Reform in his outlook as Judaism lived in the 21st century.

He was an ardent Zionist who loved Israel and understood that it like all nations are a work in progress.  He conveyed that to us his students whether we were Jewish or of other faiths.  Remarkably, Hartman encouraged not only intra-faith dialogue but interfaith dialogue in the land of Israel.  Perhaps more common in North America but a rarity in Israel.

Philosophers and teachers are not usually institution builders.  But Rabbi David Hartman did so and his son Rabbi Dr. Donniel Hartman leads and builds the imagesinstitution his father began.  The Shalom Hartman Institute is a special place of Jewish learning and life that has changed my rabbinate but more importantly changed me as a Jew. My learning there has deepened my own faith in these troubling times. It has made me a more ardent Zionist, even with Israel’s challenges, successes and failures. My studies at the Machon has deepened my love for the experiment we call the Jewish Democratic State of Israel and allowed me the opportunity to see it in its fullness.  My studies at the Machon have widened my circle of rabbinic colleagues and challenged me to think more openly about the  idea that the Jewish people has always had many different kind of Jews.  There are many voices and many paths through and to Torah.  This is a message of my teacher Rabbi Hartman and the influence that he has had on so many. He built a unique kind of sanctuary, a place where regardless of denominational ties, we could be in concert with one another.

This week’s Torah portion is T’rumah in the book of Exodus.  It describes the instructions for building the Tabernacle in the desert. God instructs Moses to tell the children of Israel to bring their gifts forward so they can build a sanctuary for God.  The Torah portion outlines the many kind of gifts, gold and silver, yarn and fabrics that are the materials that will make up the Tent that will be the place of Divine dwelling.  The sacrifices will be eventually be made there. The ark of the covenant which will be fashioned from all of the materials donated will hold the recently given Ten Commandments. And it is this exact space between the cherubim that God’s presence will dwell and speak to Moses, Aaron and the Children of Israel.

This Tent of Meeting is in some ways like the Machon that Rabbi David Hartman built.  It is a place to encounter God and our tradition. It is a place made up of the many gifts of its scholars and teachers and students.  It is a place to have an encounter with the Divine Holy One through our texts and our colleagues and Eretz Yisrael.  The Shalom Hartman Institute has become truly an Ohel Mo’ed-a Tent of Meeting, a place to meet with teachers, Talmud and Torah and theology and a place where the disciples of Rabbi David Hartman gather to engage with each other.  I am proud to be one of those students who is a disciple of Hartman- never satisfied with the status quo, ready to challenge any kind of orthodoxy, even my own. May Rabbi David Hartman’s memory and teachings continue to inspire us and may his work continue to be a blessing to us and to our world.

Categories
Books News Prayer Reform Judaism

Machzor Blog: Parades and Prayer Books – Considering the Music in the New CCAR Machzor

Many years ago, even before I thought of attending cantorial school, I applied for a job with Macy’s department store in New York City to be an associate in the 346036616_640
division responsible for the Thanksgiving parade. As part of the interview process, I was told how planning for the parade goes on year–round, with the next year’s parade preparation beginning the day after the current parade concludes. The giant helium balloons are just barely in their crates, the marching bands aren’t even back on their planes, and the Thanksgiving festivities are being organized for the next year!

For many of us who lead services, the planning of High Holidays is a similar venture. True, there are no marching bands and giant helium filled balloons, but the preparation for these Yamim Noraim– the Days of Awe – is a continuous, ongoing process. As a cantor, I am constantly reviewing new music, thinking of new liturgical possibilities, and along with the rabbis envisioning how to bring the message of the High Holidays to our community in ways that will enrich all of our lives and touch our souls.

One of the challenges cantors face in the planning of our High Holiday services is the incredible wealth of musical material from which to choose. The palette of 991091
Jewish music is ever widening and broadening as each year new compositions are composed. One of our roles as shalichei tzibur – messengers of the congregation- is to determine which musical settings of our prayers meet our needs and the congregation’s in best portraying the text. An ongoing question as I
prepare for the High Holidays is: “Does this setting of this particular prayer meet the specific needs of my community at this moment in the liturgical arc of the High Holidays?” This requires that I cull through many musical settings of these prayers always attempting to find balance between tradition and modernity, contemporary music and Mi Sinai tunes, the familiar and the unknown.

At the present time, I serve as the cantorial representative to the CCAR’s editorial committee for a new High Holiday machzor. This new High Holiday prayer book will feature substantial changes from Gates of Repentance and is the first High Holiday prayer book written for the Reform Jewish community in over a generation. Based on the layout of Mishkan Tefillah, the new machzor features the now familiar multi-vocal approach to prayer by featuring Hebrew text, an English translation, interpretations of the prayer, and in many cases additional explanation and illumination. The new CCAR machzor not only presents modern interpretations of many of the High Holiday prayers, but it also includes many traditional ancient and medieval liturgical poems (piyyutim). As a member of this committee, I am constantly aware of not only of the theology and philosophy presented by the editors and authors of this new machzor, but I try to imagine what will the services actually sound like. As part of this project I wonder: How does the addition of new text and new prayers affect the sound, the music, and the melody of the High Holidays? Are we as cantors prepared to meet the musical, artistic, and liturgical challenges that a decidedly 21st century machzor proposes?

An illustration of these very real challenges is manifest in the presentation of the text for Avinu Malkeinu. Gates of Repentance includes some of its verses, but the new machzor attempts to include more of the traditional text as it informs the liturgical and theological movement from Rosh HaShanah through Yom Kippur. How will we adapt the much loved and familiar setting of Max Janowski’s Avinu Malkeinu to a new machzor, for example?

Listen Listen1

Will this traditional interpretation of Avinu Malkeinu fulfill our needs as a community of worshippers alongside contemporary interpretations of the same prayer?

Listen Listen2

Will comparatively new settings of Avinu Malkeinu better serve our needs as a congregation as they present a different view of the text?

Listen Listen3

Perhaps an Avinu Malkeinu that mixes traditional melody with contemporary harmonies will be an Avinu Malkeinu that provides the mystery and majesty we seek during these Days of Awe.

Listen Listen4

We as a community of clergy and congregants need to not only explore the musical settings currently available, but we need to encourage a new generation of composers to share with us their interpretations of our hallowed prayers. The new CCAR machzor will pose both considerable and exciting challenges to our High Holiday worship, and as a community we will meet these challenges by re-imagining tradition while considering the new. As we look forward to publication of the new machzor perhaps the words of Rav Kook may serve to guide us: “May the old become new and may the new become holy.”

  1. Avinu Malkeinu, by Max Janowski. Sung by Cantor Lisa Levine. From Gems of the High Holy Days.
  2. Avinu Malkeinu, traditionalmelody, arranged by Elliot Z. Levine. Sung by The Western Wind with Cantor Alberto Mizrahi. The Birthday of The World, Part II: Yom Kippur (WW 1872).
  3. Avinu Malkeinu. Composed and sung by Cantor Meir Finkelstein. From Sh’ma Koleinu.
  4. Avinu Malkeinu. Composed and sung by Cantor Ramon Tasat. From Teshuva Liturgical Explorations for the Days of Awe.

Cantor Evan Kent, a 1988 graduate of the HUC Debbie Friedman School of Sacred Music, has been the cantor at Temple Isaiah for twenty-five years.  Evan is also on the faculty of HUC-LA and is a doctoral candidate at Boston University where he is studying how music at Jewish summer camps helps to inform Jewish identity. In July 2013, Evan and his husband, Rabbi Donald Goor, will be fulfilling a life-long dream of making aliyah to Jerusalem.

Learn more about the new CCAR Machzor.  For more information about participating in piloting, email machzor@ccarnet.org.

This blog post appeared previously on the URJ Ten Minutes of Torah.

Categories
Books General CCAR Prayer Reform Judaism

Machzor Blog: “I’m Not A Sheep”

IMG_0361“Please Dad, tell them I’m not a sheep.” Those were my teenage daughter’s parting words to me as I attended the first “Think Tank” in 2008 for creating a new machzor for our movement. All invited to that meeting were asked to reflect upon what we wanted to see in our new High Holy Day liturgy and convene congregants in advance to glean ideas as to what was meaningful and problematic in their worship experience.

What a challenge it is for the machzor editors to be responsive to numerous perspectives, while being faithful to Jewish tradition and creative in the spirit of Reform Judaism! Based upon the pilot editions, I believe they are definitely on the right track. Our congregation experienced both, the Rosh HaShanah morning service during a mock Yuntif service in April, serving apples and honey for flavor and we incorporated the Yom Kippur afternoon service into our actual worship this past fall. Many of the suggestions from that original Think Tank are incorporated into the draft editions. Let me be more specific.

Our congregation enjoys Mishkan T’filah. Having the traditional prayer, transliterations, creative alternatives and commentaries to enhance our High Holy Day GalaApplesHoney2
worship experience was desired. One of my members offered that just as a child likes to hear the same story read repeatedly, as a comforting part of bedtime ritual, he/she also likes different books. So too, our machzor needs to offer customary spiritually nurturing opportunities, whether through spoken word, Torah text or musical expression. Faithful translations that attempt to be literally and poetically correct invite access to tradition, along with creative alternatives, which add perspective. There is still a challenge to be careful lest a “contemporary” prayer be appropriate for 2013, but irrelevant 20-30 years from now. I am recalling the “coal miner’s prayer” from the UPB and Vietnam War era references in Gates of Repentance.

All will agree that Avinu Malkeinu is one of the central prayers of the High Holy Day experience. The cadence of reading and the melody that Moshe Rabbeinu whispered to Max Janowski are expected by our worshippers. Offering paths to the familiar, along with creative expressions is critical and our editors have done that.

But altering the Shofar service by scattering its three sections strategically throughout the service? What’s that all about? Going into the process, my members looked forward to creative, perhaps even radical thinking in the spirit and tradition of Reform Judaism to be part of the process. Much to my surprise, when we piloted Rosh Hashanah and experienced the new format, it met with almost universal positive reaction. Should this change become permanent, the first year will be a shock. The second year will be a bit disconcerting and by the third it will be Reform tradition.

Annually as the Holy Days approach, colleagues on line ask about Yom Kippur afternoon alternatives to Gates of Repentance. So I was delighted to pilot the service in that time slot this past year. Though we did not read Torah, a simultaneous study group, led by Rabbi Barbara Metzinger resonated to the teachings in Leviticus 18, which suggests that our people are open to Torah text diversity. One desire expressed by my members from 2008 was to focus on Jewish values. Having the middot allowed us to learn and grow, as well as creating the feel of what is typical during Shabbat. The two worship experiences should be different, but not completely.

 Our group wanted the editors to deal with the word “sin.” I know they are still struggling with how to best translate chet. So far they are not wrong, but may have missed the mark.

Finally, there are many theological issues to creating a liturgy that leaves room for the spectrum from customary beliefs to extreme doubt, as reflected by my microcosm of the movement. Some reject the words of Unetaneh Tokef and no matter how much you provide in teaching or metaphorical form, it does not fly. Still, others embrace it. Alternative theological opportunities abound in the early editions. But, alas my dear daughter, “We are Your flock; You are our shepherd.” is still to be found, but maybe, if you ask nicely, the rabbi may elect to read the Nelly Sachs poem on the other side of the page.


Bob Loewy is rabbi at Congregation Gates of Prayer in Metairie, LA since 1984, currently serves as Program Vice President for the CCAR and grew up in the Reform movement.

Learn more about the new CCAR Machzor.  For more information about participating in piloting, email machzor@ccarnet.org.

 

Categories
News

CCAR in Israel: Highlights of Two Days

HUC-in-JerusalemMonday:

Undelivered cell phone kerfuffles did not hinder the important in-person conversations with HUC-JIR students. On our January Tikkun Olam and Solidarity Mission in Israel, CCAR incoming VP for Program, Debbie Bravo, co-chair Ariana Silverman, and I engaged with Jerusalem HUC-JIR students about their hopes for their careers and how CCAR supports them. They are excited to access our lifelong learning resources and opportunities for chevruta.

For some, these contacts have begun with relationships with many of you who have taught them, inspired them, mentored them and encouraged them in their rabbinic journeys. Indeed, on one side of Debbie Bravo sat a young man she knows from NFTY GER and on the other side sat a young woman she met as a unit head at Harlam.

I look forward to meeting them again on their respective stateside campuses over the next four years as each member of the CCAR rabbinic staff generally meets with almost each class, on each campus, each year, making approximately 20-25 times conversations over the course of each student’s seminary time. When possible, CCAR leadership volunteers also spend time with students. Over the course of these years our student members receive an orientation to CCAR and most importantly we develop personal relationships with each of them. In addition their student memberships enable them to access our teleconferences, webinars, newsletters as well as Convention. L’hitraot often in the years ahead.

 

Wednesday, by Rabbi Danny Gottlieb

 

100_8323Yesterday afternoon we visited one of the 14 student villages built by the Ayalim Foundation, which was established 10 years ago by five young people in memory of two friends who had been murdered in a terrorist incident.  The mission of the foundation is to build student villages as part of a larger plan to create communities in places that need them, such as deserted or difficult neighborhoods.  The students who live in the villages, in return for subsidized accommodations, accept an obligation to volunteer in the local community in a variety of ways that serve to strengthen the social fabric and the educational standard of the community.  They tutor children after school, support learning disabled children, provide after school activities and social programs, as well as being role models for the children in the neighborhood.
The village we visited, just south of Beersheva, was home to about 80 students of the Ben Gurion University.  The students volunteer for 8 hours a week in the local community, as well as one Friday a month when they help to clean up the neighborhood.  And also, during the Pesach and summer semester breaks, they volunteer to build the village.  You see, the village, which began with a single pre-fab building, has been expanded into a complete village, with 40 apartments, a student center, moadon and public square, all of which have been built by the students themselves (under the supervision of a construction foreman, of course…) A small alumni village exists alongside the student village, and there are plans to expand the alumni village. Financial support comes from a combination of private philanthropy, federation support and government grants.
In its 10 years of existence the Foundation has seen over 6000 students through its program.  These students have touched the lives of more than 25,000 children in the communities of which the 14 villages are a part.  At present, there are 5000 applications for 800 available spaces for next year.
4453260338_6f73a51f68_oThe other part of the Ayalim Foundation’s mission is to assist in the development of the Negev Region, which is seen as both the fulfillment of David Ben Gurion’s dream and the key to the future development of the State of Israel.  The Negev has vast land and solar resources, and is the center for cutting-edge research in conservation, eco-system and energy sustainability.  The idea is that if the students build the village and help to develop the local community themselves, they will feel a part of the community and they will choose to stay in the region.  And according to Danielle, a 22 year-old student from Jerusalem, it is likely that she will do just that.
The Ayalim Foundation belief is not that “if you build it, they will come” rather, “if they build it, they will stay!”

Rabbi Danny Gottlieb is the Rabbi at Congregation Beth Israel Judea in San Francisco, CA.  He is currently participating on the CCAR Solidarity and Social Action MIssion to Israel, part of the CCAR Leadership Travel series.

Categories
CCAR on the Road General CCAR Israel News Reform Judaism

Our Day of Solidarity: CCAR Leadership Trip to Israel

To meet people who live in the area surrounding Gaza and to hear the personal stories reinforces the complexity of the situation demonstrated through their real life experiences.  Our mission visited Moshav Netiv HaAsarah, Kibbutz Kfar Aza and the town of Sderot on Election Day. AlanKatz1

Raz Shmilovitz, a tour educator and farmer from Netiv HaAsarah spoke of his parents being part of this community when it was established in 1975 in the Sinai. The uprooting of the moshav after the peace treaty with Egypt led to their present location on the northern border of Gaza within the original boundaries of Israel. They chose this locale so that no one would dispute their right to live on that land.  He used an expression based on two Hebrew words which have similar pronunciation but different spelling.  “If you don’t work (eebeyd with an ayin) the land, you will lose (eebeyd with an alef) the land.  Another member, Roni, spoke of her participation in The Other Voice, continues to believe that they must dialogue with Gazans.  During Pillar of Defense a friend from Gaza called her to ask how she and her family were doing.  She calls herself a realist and not a dreamer.  According to her the dreamers are those who think they can continue in the present state of affairs.

At Kfar Aza, Chen Avraham, who works for the IMPJ, came back to the Kibbutz to raise her son in this wonderful environment.  Now her challenge is to keep his perspective to not hate all Arabs.  During the war a rocket landed just outside of her grandmother’s home who was safe with her caretaker in the shelter but found her bed covered with ash and broken glass. From both of these places we were able to look out across the border, a few hundred yards away, even seeing a few Gazans who were chased away from approaching too closely.

In both communities many of the women and children were evacuated but others remained.  We witnessed people of tremendous resilience as many continue to suffer from traumatic stress disorders.  And yet on this sunny day we saw children and adults seemingly living a normal life.  At Netiv HaAsarah an artist designed a peace mosaic to which we able to add pieces of ceramics.

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In Sderot, a town most heavily bombarded in the area we met with Noam Bedin of the Sderot Media Center.  His message was to get out the truth on what he called the “rocket reality.”  Not only has the greater area had over 12,000 rockets shot during the past 7 years since the disengagement from Gaza, but 97% were shot from civilian areas.  He also spoke of the many dilemmas such as the mother who hears the alert while in a car and has to decide which child to pull out first to bring them to a shelter.  Anat, who works with Noam, was evacuated from a community just across the border from Netiv HaAsarah, which now lieAlanKatz3s entirely in ruins.  She loves the area but spoke of the anxiety and fears that she and others have at such minor things as a clicking sound which reminds them of the tzevah adom (Red Alert) warnings.

Noam summed up his feeling as we looked at a playground and soccer field surrounded by bomb shelters.  His claim is that those images together are in and of themselves an abomination.

Rabbi Alan Katz is the Rabbi of Temple Sinai in Rochester, NY.  He is currently traveling in Irsael with the CCAR Israel Solidarity and Social Action Mission, part of the CCAR Leadership Travel series.

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General CCAR News Prayer Reform Judaism

An Interfaith Prayer for an Interfaith Crowd

Rabbis Steve Foster & Steve Fox at the National Prayer Service 2013
Rabbis Steve Foster & Steve Fox at the National Prayer Service 2013
Rabbis Steve Foster & Steve Fox
at the National Prayer Service 2013

 

This week I attended the National Prayer Service in the Washington National Cathedral on the day after the Inauguration. The service was beautiful and moving, a dignified end to a whirlwind of parades and inaugural galas.  However, as we sat in the pews of the National Cathedral, with its soaring vaulting and stained-glass windows, I couldn’t help my mind from racing with questions around the issue as to whether a national prayer service is appropriate?

Can you gather together a room full of rabbis, priests, pastors and imams to actually pray together for a national leader?  Are we being disingenuous to sit together in a church as prayers are offered for our country that do not reflect our own beliefs?  Can we pray together without leaving each other out?  Does prayer even belong in a national setting?

On the National Cathedral website, the spokeswoman of the Presidential Inaugural Committee said, “President Obama’s own faith has played an integral role in his life, his commitment to service and his presidency, and this important tradition will celebrate the values and diversity that make us strong”.

That statement, and for that matter most of the press covering the National Prayer Service, seems to mix a multitude of issues.  President Obama, a person of faith, wants to worship in his “own faith” with his ministers in his tradition; so, how do we respect his tradition?   How do the faith leaders of the National Prayer Service decide on appropriate prayer to respect Mr. Obama’s traditions, while still “celebrating the values and diversity that make us strong”?

The issue of appropriate prayer in interfaith settings has been the subject of discussion recently among CCAR members, with colleagues and scholars sharing many thoughts on all sides of the questions:

Do we try and find a common prayer?  Or do we pray in parallel, each along the lines of our own traditions? 

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For me the answer is simple—we each pray in our own tradition.  The opportunity to gather with religious people of many faiths in the Cathedral Church of St. Peter and St. Paul (the National Cathedral’s actual name) requires us to open our ears, minds and hearts to respect someone else’s tradition, to allow each to pray in his/her own way, and to appreciate the celebration of diversity and inclusiveness.  The success of inclusivity at the National Prayer Service from the diverse group of clergy and other religious leaders comes from the commitment to gather together in support of something harmonious and peaceful.

In this instance, as President Obama’s tradition involves his belief in Jesus, we respect this tradition and do not expect him and his clergy to expunge the name of Jesus from their prayers, just as we do not expect clergy of other faiths to pray from our traditions.  When there is a Jewish president, the rabbis leading the service should expect and deliver the same—a service guided in Jewish tradition, with clarity as to our expectations of other clergy.

You can call it a National Prayer Service or a joint prayer service or whatever you like.  But as each of us sit in the National Cathedral or in our churches, or synagogues, or mosques, or even in our own living rooms, we each invoke our own prayers in our hearts to guide President Obama through his second term.

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Prayer

Machzor Blog: Wrestling With God

ShofarOne of my favorite things about Judaism is struggle. We are the People who are destined to struggle with God (Am Yisrael). This is our inheritance—a good thing! That said, when it comes to the High Holy Days, I often wish there were just a little less struggle involved.

The concept of God and the practice of maintaining a meaningful relationship with God are challenging on any day of the year. But the language of the High Holy Days, especially as it defines and describes God, has always added to that challenge for me. As a high school student I was so alienated by God’s roles as presented in U’n’taneh Tokef especially, but really throughout the machzor, that I would simply choose not to attend High Holy Day services. As a late-teenager and early twenty-something, these images of God significantly contributed to my decision to identify as an atheist. I simply could not relate to this anthropomorphic, male, judge. In rabbinical school, no longer an atheist, I spent individual class sessions, seminars, and even an entire semester wrestling with the God imagery of the machzor, not only for myself, but so that I could attempt to support others in their journeys through the Yamim Nora’im.

cairo_genizaLanguage is at the heart of this God struggle. The words used to capture and define an experience as vast as God will of course be inadequate. And, while the original Hebrew of the traditional machzor is an obstacle for me, the English of Gates of Repentance turns a fence into a solid wall. Each year I am more frustrated with our outdated text, and ever more eager for our movement’s new machzor.

This year, our congregation piloted the draft Yom Kippur afternoon service from the new machzor. It turns out that my enthusiasm is not unfounded. I felt immediately more at home in this service than I do in Gates of Repentance. As I do, our new prayer book understand the service experience as a journey—almost a choose-your-own adventure. There are multiple options for different prayers, opportunities for individual reflection, and even guiding questions for small group discussion. I see each of these approaches as a way of helping service participants to overcome the obstacles of accessibility that are, I think, inherent especially in High Holy Day prayer.

And then there’s the language. In an earlier post to this blog (“Faithful Translations”), Rabbi Leon Morris draws our attention to the incredible care that has gone into the translation of Hebrew text. I find these translations infinitely richer and more accessible than their equivalents in Gates of Repentance. But for me, it’s the recognition of struggle that is present in so many of the English alternative readings that really supported me in my own prayer on Yom Kippur afternoon. These readings both honor and elevate the challenges of the big concepts of the Yamim Noraim—forgiveness, starting over, living up to our own potential—as well as of course the challenges of the imagery used to describe God.

A most excellent example of these readings is Avinu Malkeinu: A Prayer of Protest, written by Rabbis Janet and Shelly Marder (reprinted in Rabbi Leon Morris’ post to this blog, “How ‘current’ should a prayer book be?”). Avinu Malkeinu is not a prayer that I find too difficult as a result of its presentation of God—thanks, in large part, to the study I did with Rabbi Richard Levy as a rabbinical student!—but by the time we reach Yom Kippur afternoon, we have recited this prayer at every service of the High Holidays, we are exhausted and hungry, and it’s just plain difficult to find the same kavanah [intention] for this final repetition that we may have had for the earlier recitations. This Prayer of Protest was, both for me and for several of my congregants who commented on it afterwards, a shot in the arm as we moved into our concluding services. It reminded us to look around the room and see the people with whom we were sharing this moment. It reminded us of our purpose for being present in the synagogue on Yom Kippur afternoon. And, of course, it reminded us that this process of struggle, this protest, is a tremendous gift. Ultimately, it reminded us of who we are. We are Am Yisrael, the People Who Will Struggle With God.

Rabbi Rebekah Stern is the Assistant Rabbi at Peninsula Temple Sholom in Burlingame California.

Learn more about the new CCAR Machzor.