Categories
Reform Judaism Social Justice

Begin to Confront Discomfort and Uncomfortable Truths By Asking One Question: ‘Are You OK?’

Photo credit: Bobby Quillard

Dear Rabbis,

I am very grateful to Rabbi Hara Person for offering me space on the Ravblog to share a few words with you. She suggested, with Biennial behind us, that I write about something that I would want the rabbis to know in the aftermath. While that list is long, I appreciate your consideration as I begin here.

As many of you know, my Biennial experience was an exercise in racism; both the constant experiencing of it and then speaking about it in the moment quite publicly at my Shabbat afternoon session, which was a first for me.

I thank each of you who took the time to write to me to after I shared my experiences both in the room at my presentation, and then on Facebook. The outpouring of support from the rabbinic community and the community at large following Biennial touched me deeply.

I am thrilled to see that there seems to be a great deal of time and energy being focused on how we can be more welcoming, both as individuals and in our Jewish spaces. It is a conversation that I have longed to have for three decades, and I believe that our ever beautifully more diverse community will only thrive if we continue to keep this effort at the top of the agenda.

“To be given a safe space to give an honest answer allows us to be seen and heard and to speak the painful truth that can be so difficult to voice.”

What I find that we are not yet talking about, however, is what happens after someone has been left feeling marginalized or dehumanized by our community. Even as someone who has experienced this for most of my life, I had not really considered it myself until after Biennial and I started to received messages from people.

The messages came, literally, in volume. Outrage. Disbelief. Confusion. Sadness. Anger. And now that I’ve found some quiet time and space to process things, I have found myself struck by what was not said. Or, more accurately, what was not asked.

Are you OK? What can I do for you?

I can count quite literally on one hand the number of people—friends, strangers and clergy alike—who asked if I was OK. Or if I needed support following Biennial. And that really surprised me. Had I, God forbid, been in an accident, people would have come bearing flowers or chocolate chip coffee cake. They would have asked if I’m OK. And what they can do to support me while I heal.

But was there no coffee cake on offer amidst the outrage and sadness. And, really, I could have used some.

It is often said that people do not ask questions that they do not already know the answer to. But I have come to learn that, many times, people do not ask questions that they know have an uncomfortable answer.

In my case, we all know that the answer is no. I was not OK after Biennial. We who are dehumanized for our race, religion, sexual orientation, or abilities are never OK when attacked. On my book tour, I tell people that it feels like my heart has been broadsided by a truck moving 75 miles per hour each time that I meet racism and intolerance. That I am never sure if my heart will start beating again. When I will be able to breathe again. And it is always a hit and run, where the offender slams into me and keeps moving. Without care or apology.

When it comes to speaking uncomfortable truths, I find that I am an exception rather than the rule. I am finally at a place where I am very comfortable speaking out when an incident takes place. And I am quite comfortable saying that I was not OK. But it has taken decades of therapy and very hard work to become this version of me. For many years, I choked on my silence, put on a brave face, and pretended that I was OK. And there are many—too many—who still remain silent, simply because we don’t find that there is really an open-ness to discussing it.

Until we are at a place where each person is greeted with the same warm communal embrace, I believe that it is important that we also consider proactively how to respond in the aftermath. To be asked, “Are you OK?” “What can I do for you?” is a critical place to begin because these questions say that we do not have to carry the pain alone.

And to be given a safe space to give an honest answer allows us to be seen and heard and to speak the painful truth that can be so difficult to voice.

I acknowledge that these conversations can be uncomfortable ones for all of us. People who love me dearly did not ask if I was OK after Biennial. Some could not bear to even acknowledge what took place, including people who saw it for themselves. But I believe that sharing the truth of all of this a big part of how we begin to make sure that it does not continue.

As our rabbis, leaders and teachers, I encourage you to consider both the before and the after. We welcome the outrage, sadness, anger and sermons. But, please. Ask if we are OK. Ask if we need support. It matters so much more than you know.

B’ahava v’shalom,

Marra Gad

Marra B. Gad is a Los Angeles-based author and independent film and television producer. She is a graduate of the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign and holds a master’s degree in modern Jewish history from Baltimore Hebrew Institute at Towson University. Her memoir, Color of Love: A Story of a Mixed-Race Jewish Girl, was published by Agate Bolden in November 2019.

Photo credit: Bobby Quillard

Categories
CCAR Convention Convention Social Justice

A Hands-On Farming Experience at the Pearlstone Center in Baltimore at CCAR Convention 2020

My name is Rabbi Jessy Dressin, and I am a community rabbi in Baltimore and the Director of Repair the World Baltimore, an organization that aims to make meaningful service a defining part of American Jewish life by mobilizing young Jews to volunteer in local communities to help transform neighborhoods, cities, and lives through service experiences rooted in Jewish values.

I have not been to a CCAR Convention to date but was excited to be asked to join the CCAR Convention 2020 Committee and help curate opportunities that are special to Baltimore for Convention participants. There are so many things about Baltimore and the Baltimore Jewish community to share with colleagues both during and prior to Convention that are special to Charm City.

Many of you may have visited the Pearlstone Conference and Retreat Center for various conferences over the years. If you have, you have probably appreciated such a vast space of land dedicated to Jewish education, experience, and gathering.  You may have even been lucky enough to enjoy some homegrown produce from the farm at one of your kosher and conscious meals provided to guests during conferences and gatherings.

Whether you have visited Pearlstone before or this might be your first time, I am excited about a unique opportunity for rabbis to participate in as part of the pre-Convention track. Our visit to Pearlstone will include the opportunity to roll up our sleeves and help with some preparations in various ways for the upcoming farming season. Activities may range from prepping beds, starting seeds (planting seeds that can incubate in the greenhouse until they are rooted enough to be planted into the ground), and other fun preliminary activities that are essential for an abundant growing season that begins with the coming of spring. Also, baby goats! Just this last week, two baby goats were born at Pearlstone, which means there will likely be even more by the time we arrive in March.

During our visit we will also have the opportunity to do some learning with Rabbi Psachyah Lichtenstein, a farmer and Director of Education at the Pearlstone Center, who always finds way to engage the mind, body, and spirit in thinking about our Jewish connection to the land. He will engage us in rich learning and open up conversations amongst our group that are sure to inspire. We will also have the opportunity to do some additional learning to take what we experienced at Pearlstone and help us bring it back to our local communities—since we can’t all have a Pearlstone around the corner.

As an HUC-JIR student, I spent two summers living at Pearlstone. Thanks to Rabbi Joel Mosbacher, Pearlstone hosted a summer kollel where folks would work to farm the land in the morning and spend the afternoon in the beit midrash, learning traditional and contemporary Jewish texts that helped us to become better acquainted with Judaism’s deep relationship to the land and our agricultural cycles and rhythm. It was a pluralistic living and learning environment that forged relationships and uncovered texts that carry meaning to this day. 

One need not be a farmer, an environmentalist, or even a regular farmer’s market enthusiast to enjoy this experience. I hope you’ll consider joining us for this exciting pre-Conference gathering. Also, did I mention baby goats?

Convention 2020 will be held in Baltimore, March 22-25, 2020. CCAR members can register here for Convention and for the Pearlstone Center Pre-Convention program, which takes place Sunday, March 22.

Categories
CCAR Convention

Rabbinic Growth: Learning Modern, Diverse Rabbinic Skills at CCAR Convention 2020

We are so excited to be offering a number of learning opportunities this year at CCAR Convention in Baltimore to help each of us grow in our rabbinates. On a personal level, I thoroughly enjoy spending time with colleagues and friends, in study with some of our fantastic teachers and scholars, and hearing from prominent figures who are doing the important work we are all engaged in. However, one area I always look forward to is to learning from those who are at the forefront of the experience of the modern rabbinate.

For example, a few years ago, when I had just taken on the role of senior rabbi at a previous congregation, I chose to attend Larry Dressler’s presentation on Rabbi as Supervisor. I was struggling with a staff of wonderful people, but who were not necessarily the right people for their particular roles within the congregation. Larry explained that every dollar a congregation spends is part of a sacred trust with the congregants. He challenged the idea of keeping people in their roles because they have been part of the congregational family rather than because they are doing the good work of the congregation. This insight helped my community make some very tough but important choices. I have used this guiding insight ever since, especially because supervision has been a major part of my rabbinate for the past ten plus years. We are excited to welcome back Larry Dressler, who will be presenting to us Rabbi as Supervisor: The Art of One-on-One.

This is but one example of the many learning opportunities offered at Convention. We will have a number of presentations, including many that are not specific to the congregational rabbinate. For example:

  • Eric Abbott, who works at the Hillel at Johns Hopkins University, will be bringing some of his students to talk with us about Reform Judaism on college campuses.
  • Shira Koch Epstein will be speaking about Entrepreneurial Community Building: The Life Cycle of a Start-Up Project.
  • Jo Hirschmann will be presenting on Providing Spiritual Care to People Who Are Transgender and/or Non-binary: Lessons from Healthcare Settings.
  • We will also be focusing on issues relating to ethics, antisemitism, fundraising, radical reinvention, and so many more. These are just a few examples of the many offerings we will be providing during the Convention in Baltimore.

Our rabbinates are increasingly diverse. The skill sets we must have are beyond the scope of what many of us learned in our seminaries. I feel CCAR Convention is one of the greatest opportunities to learn how we can broaden our approaches to our various rabbinates. With this in mind, we have been listening to HUCAlum, Ravkav, and our various Facebook rabbinic groups to see where you are and the areas you are concerned about.

While we’re not able to cover every topic, our hope is that we offer enough learning opportunities that you will find of value. I am still grateful to Larry’s presentation at our Boston Convention so many years ago as well as to the variety of presentations before and since. Many of them have and continue to help shape my rabbinate, and I hope we are able to offer the same opportunities to you as well.

If you haven’t, please consider registering and joining us at our Convention in Baltimore. Aside from being at an incredible location in a vibrant and dynamic city, it will also be a great chance to broaden your rabbinate in profound ways.

Rabbi Benjamin Sharff is the senior rabbi of The Reform Temple of Rockland in Nyack, New York and a member of the 2020 CCAR Convention Committee. Convention 2020 will be held in Baltimore, March 22-25, 2020.

Categories
CCAR Convention Immigration Social Justice

Embedding Ourselves in Baltimore: What Rabbis at CCAR Convention 2020 Can Learn From an Immigration Outreach Center Born Out of a Catholic Church

When the planning committee for the upcoming 2020 CCAR Convention met last spring, we asked ourselves, “How could we be in Baltimore and not look to understand the issues that the residents of this city meet each day?”

Like Cincinnati, Orange County, and Atlanta in recent memory, this convening of the Central Conference of American Rabbis will include opportunities to learn from some of the social justice issues endemic to Charm City. When we are together in March, we will explore issues around immigration, the toll of gun violence, climate change, the safety and care of people who are sex workers, and much more. 

One workshop I am excited about will be with Baltimore’s Immigrant Outreach Service Center (IOSC). This 501c3 organization is an immigration center which grew out of a social justice campaign at St. Matthew Catholic Church in Baltimore, through the help of foreign-born parishioner volunteers. IOSC helps immigrants build successful lives, offering a variety of services as wide as the variety of people they serve. There is a lot for us to learn from this organization that we can apply to our work settings: in advance of Passover, we will hear from people who came to the United States running from terrible circumstances towards a better opportunity for themselves and their families. We can also find inspiration from the experience of St. Matthew; the congregation’s demographics shifted with each passing year and so did the variety of programs they used to meet the needs of this changing population. And we will learn from the IOSC Executive Director and Senior Pastor of St. Matthew about how they created an independent non-profit organization that does essential justice work and has served immigrants from 123 countries.

As the CCAR continues to serve rabbis who serve in a multiplicity of settings, the Convention committee is also working to create learning opportunities that serve us. As we navigate the future of Jewish life in this time of change, I know that the social justice offering at CCAR Convention will inspire us all and supply tangible resources and inspiration to fuel the work we will do at home. I will see you in Baltimore. 

Rabbi Eleanor Steinman serves as an associate rabbi of Congregation Beth Israel in Houston, Texas. CCAR Convention 2020 will be held in Baltimore, March 22-25, 2020. 

Categories
CCAR Convention

A Community of Holy Souls—Why Rabbis Urgently Need to Come Together at CCAR Convention 2020

In Ecclesiastes 1:4 we read, Generations come and generations go, but the Earth remains forever. I used to find great comfort in these words, but of late I wonder about the truth behind this statement. Personally I am feeling overwhelmed and a bit helpless with all that is confronting us, asking myself how do I respond to those who seek out my council when I too am deeply concerned for our future?

As religious leaders, many of us find ourselves feeling battered and bruised from the numerous needs and issues that come at us 24/7. Needing to find ways to care for so many may leave us feeling isolated and alone. A Facebook Group can certainly allow for the scream into the night, but it lacks the ability for authentic human contact between individuals who understand our unique responsibilities, our inner realities. We rabbis need holy souls to sit with in real time to share our concerns, to open up our hearts, and share what’s on our minds, and most importantly to dream together.

This is where our annual CCAR Convention can offer each one of us so much.

When you attend a CCAR Convention, you give yourself the gift of time.

Time to recharge your soul and nourish your mind;

Time to experience heart-opening prayer and stimulating Torah Lishmah;

Time to reconnect with colleagues to share ideas, provide council, or just catch up;

Time to refresh, learning from coaches able to mentor us to be our best, to rediscover our gifts.

At this year’s Convention, you will discover a program that highlights the very best thinkers and activists, change agents, and visionaries, dealing with the major issues of our time: antisemitism, the 2020 election, Israel, the environmental crisis, racial bias, women’s experience in the rabbinate, and other critically important topics impacting us and our communities.

By being together in Baltimore, we are able to be connect with members of our rabbinical body and speak with our CCAR leadership to share with them what each of us—from chaplains, to pulpit leaders, educators, and Hillel directors— needs to thrive within our individual rabbinates. Each and every one of us is tasked with the responsibility to respond to the spiritual and social needs of our times, so let us come together at CCAR Convention.

As they say on every airline flight, “Place the mask on yourself before assisting others.”

I hope you will join me March 22–25, 2020 in Baltimore, where together we will confront the issues of our day, and find our way forward to better assure a strong and bright future for ourselves, our rabbinate, our communities, and our world.

Give yourself the gift of renewal, the gift of CCAR Baltimore Convention 2020.

Register today!

Alexandria Shuval-Weiner is the Senior Rabbi of Temple Beth Tikvah in Roswell, Georgia and the chair of the CCAR Convention Committee. CCAR Convention 2020 will be held in Baltimore, March 22-25, 2020. CCAR members can register here.

Categories
CCAR Convention Prayer

‘Elohim nitzav baadat El’—Standing Together In the Divine Assembly at CCAR Convention 2020

One of the things I love most about coming to CCAR Convention each year is the chance to pray with other rabbis. Shared t’filah each morning mean getting to be part of a “congregation” of people who know liturgy intimately and who share a vocabulary about the range of what prayer is “for.” 

Coming together this way, for me, means getting to sink into something so comfortably familiar, with others I may have once davened next to each day at HUC-JIR, or whom I’ve never met before but with whom I nonetheless share so much common, core experience of prayer. It means getting to learn from being led by colleagues, some of whose expertise I may technically share but whose prayer leadership can help me to examine, hone, and play with my own practice. It means getting to be in a minyan as a participant, without needing to be an exemplar for someone else’s spiritual experience, or a wordsmith to figure out just what the multiplicity of people around me need. As a rabbi who is currently regularly on the bimah, it offers me a chance to just … be part of a community and pray.

This year, I find myself particularly longing for and looking forward to being together in our moments of shared rabbis’ t’filah. The Psalmist wrote “Elohim nitzav baadat El—God stands among God’s gathering” (Psalm 82:1).  We are those whose professional work is to gather others in the name of what is holy. When we gather together ourselves, what a way to invite what is holy to stand with us, in us, through us—to give us the healing we need and to empower us to return to our own work more whole. 

I have the honor this year, on the 2020 Convention Committee, of getting to think about and plan with colleagues the t’filah sessions we will hold Tuesday and Wednesday mornings (multiple prayer options each morning, each paired with a beit midrash session so that we can learn together in the same spaces that we pray), as well as our Kaddish gathering moments each night. 

Hinei mah tov—how good it will be when we come together.

Rabbi Jordi Schuster Battis is the Associate Rabbi of Temple Shir Tikva in Wayland, Massachusetts and a member of the CCAR Convention committee. CCAR Convention 2020 will be held in Baltimore, March 22-25, 2020. CCAR members can register here.

Categories
CCAR Convention Torah

Baltimore Beit Midrash: Learning From the Greatest Scholars of Our Generation at CCAR Convention 2020

I look forward to the CCAR Convention each year. There are many different facets that I enjoy, including the opportunity to study with colleagues that I’ve known for many years and colleagues that I meet for the first time.  In the rabbinic imagination, there are seventy faces to Torah, and inevitably, I come home from Convention each year having learned a new text or a new insight into a familiar text.

This year, our study at Convention will include a remarkable opportunity. We have assembled some of the greatest scholars of our generation—including Andrea Weiss, David Ellenson, Michael Marmur, Lisa Grant, Elsie Stern, Amy Scheinerman, and Joseph Skloot—to lead us in a beit midrash. The beit midrash, or study hall, will begin our day with a foundation of significant learning. The texts and ideas that will be presented will provide us with a lens for the entire day to come.

So many of us have a commitment to lifelong learning as a foundation of our rabbinic leadership. We create opportunities in our home communities for learning, and in order to sustain this, we need to continue our own learning. Our professors, who will each teach a personal passion with topics ranging from sacred texts of the Second Temple era to understanding Jewish identity in modern times, will provide us with intellectual and spiritual renewal.

I believe that most of us can remember our favorite teachers, from whatever part of our educational career. These teachers cared for us deeply, helped us identify and pursue our potential, and provided us with knowledge and skills that continue to sustain us.

Our beit midrash teachers at Convention have approached this opportunity with exactly these high aspirations. They believe in us as rabbis, they hope to share with us in ways that allow us to flourish, and they are prepared to give us knowledge and scholarly insight that will stay with us when we return home from Convention.

It has been a blessing to work on this particular aspect of our Baltimore program. Without fail, each scholar was filled with excitement, and sought to identify topics that would be inspirational, interesting, and engaging.  I look forward to seeing many of you as we turn the halls of the Renaissance Hotel into a timeless beit midrash!

Rabbi Peter Stein is the senior rabbi of Temple B’rith Kodesh in Rochester, New York and a member of the 2020 CCAR Convention Committee.

CCAR Convention 2020 will be held in Baltimore, March 22-25, 2020. CCAR members can register here.

Categories
Death

God and the Tragedy Test

Rabbi Richard Agler

So who, exactly, is the God we believe in? This is not only a question for rabbis, it is a question for every Jew. And it may well be an urgent one, one that our Movement needs to address seriously, and sooner rather than later.

It is a question that took on special meaning for me when I was well along in my rabbinate. After the sudden and tragic death of our 26-year-old daughter Talia in 2012, skilled though I may have been at answering God questions for congregants, (though I’m anything but sure that I was) I found myself unable to answer them to my own satisfaction. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

So I embarked upon a search and concluded that the God who people meet in our congregations—the God of many of our sacred texts, liturgies, and holidays—is a God that many, if not most of them, cannot and do not believe in. Moreover, the same can be said for many of us.

My journey led me to the God I refer to as the “God of Law and Spirit.” It is not complicated.

The God who intervenes in history, the God who answers the prayers and does the will of those who love and serve her, the God who executes righteous judgement, is simply not a God that coheres with most people’s life experience or understanding. Before my daughter’s death, I allowed myself to finesse these issues and, on occasion, to plead ignorance in the face of them. In the wake of it, I no longer could.

Like us, our people look at the world and see that moral and righteous conduct do not protect them, or for that matter anyone else, from the ravages of nature, the laws of physics, or the predations of our fellow human beings. Like us, they are acutely aware that much of the world’s suffering is morally incomprehensible. Like us, they see that the Bible’s promises to reward and protect the good and the upright have been mocked throughout the length and breadth of human history. This may help to explain why many of our rabbinates place greater emphasis on Torah and Israel than they do on God.

But God is the ultimate underpinning of Jewish life. Without a God who is genuinely alive in the hearts and minds of our people, it becomes difficult, if not impossible, to sustain an enduring faith.

We know that challenges to biblical notions of God go back at least as far as the Book of Job. The Rabbis, too, dealt with them extensively, and often creatively. As have philosophers and theologians from antiquity until today.

But such sophisticated understandings are typically not what our people encounter in our liturgy, sacred stories, or holidays. Certainly not in any clear or systematic form.

It is good that we are strong on tikkun olam. It is good that our communal life is strong. But Judaism and Jewish life will never be as strong as we need them to be without a true and living God in the hearts, minds, and lives of our people.

We need to offer God-language, God-teaching, and God-understanding that is coherent, comprehensible, and above all, believable.

———

In my search I looked for a God who could, as I came to call it, “pass the tragedy test.” I needed a God who could make at least some sense in the wake of life-upending loss.

Many people, whether they have directly experienced tragedy or not, are on the lookout for such a God as well. Few of us can live so much as a day without witnessing testimony to the world’s violence, chaos, and injustice. Where is the God who makes sense in such a world? Where is the God who cannot be dismissed as a relic of the ancient religious imagination?

My journey led me to the God I refer to as the “God of Law and Spirit.” It is not complicated.

The “Law” is derived, in varying degrees, from the understandings of Maimonides, Spinoza, Einstein, and others. In essence, the Laws of the universe rule us all. They are invariable, immutable, and all-inclusive. They control everything from the farthest cosmos to the subatomic particles within us and around us. We either live in accordance with these laws or we do not live at all. I understand God as being one with them.

In addition to Law, there is Spirit, the qualities we all recognize as essential for religious life, for spiritual life, and even for life itself: love, kindness, compassion; the pursuits of wisdom, justice, holiness, and sacred experience.

I believe the God of Law and Spirit to be worthy of our devotion, service, commitment, and aspiration. Because it is neither wrong nor foolish to believe that:

  1. The laws of physics and nature are all-encompassing, universal, and determinative.
  2. These laws, God’s Laws, if you will, can create tragic outcomes—for no higher purpose or reason.
  3. God does not intervene in our lives to prevent such tragedies—or to inflict them.
  4. God nevertheless lives in Spirit. Through the sacred values of goodness, love, wisdom, compassion, justice, and more.

The God of Law and Spirit offers honest and believable answers to more than a few of our timeless questions. Why did my daughter die? Because when a 100-pound human being is struck by a three-ton motor vehicle moving at speed, the Law determines what the outcome will be. No amount of righteous behavior, and Talia had much of it on her ledger, can change that.

Alas, this God is limited, but at least this God does not ask us to accept myths that often fail, and fail spectacularly, in the face of tragedy. I think of the God of Law and Spirit as a God for grownups.

Again, the God presented in our liturgy, Torah readings, sacred legends, and holidays does not always meet this standard. And when people are offered a God who is at variance where their life observations, they distance themselves from their faith.

They may remain “cultural Jews.” They may consider themselves “secular Jews.” They may call themselves “spiritual but not religious.” In no small measure because we have not given them an intellectually honest way to be both.

I don’t pretend to have anywhere near all of the answers. It is my hope that collectively, we can search, find, articulate, and ultimately instill them into our own lives, and the lives of our people.

It is time for us to ask as a Conference—because this is a place from which rabbis can lead—questions such as, To whom, exactly, are we addressing our prayers? Where is the God we can really believe in? Is there a better response to morally inexplicable tragedy than to plead ignorance and hug?

Beginning with the first Pittsburgh Platform in 1885, and on three formal occasions since, Reform Judaism has addressed these issues. I submit that it is time to put them on our agenda once again.

Rabbi Richard Agler is the Founding Rabbi and Rabbi Emeritus of Congregation B’nai Israel in Boca Raton, Florida. He is the author of The Tragedy Test: Making Sense of Life-Changing Loss (Wipf and Stock, 2018). He’s also the director of the Tali Fund, where he supports the work of the Talia Agler Girls Shelter for trafficked, abused, and exploited girls in Nairobi, Kenya, and promotes awareness and registration for organ donation.

Categories
Ethics Reform Judaism Responsa shabbat

New Responsum: Collecting for Tzedakah in the Synagogue on Shabbat

Female hand holding tightly a bundle of money. Top view of five and fifty dollars on colorful background. Investment concept with copy space

The CCAR is pleased to present this Responsum on collecting money for tzedakah in the synagogue on Shabbat (5780.1), the newest addition to our historic collection of  questions and answers about Jewish living. 

Question: The question has arisen in our congregation as to whether it is permissible to collect money for tzedakah on Shabbat. I am aware of a few congregations who do announce the tzedakah cause for the week and have ushers accept donations on the way out of services, without pressure of course.  I am well aware of the prohibition of carrying money and engaging in commercial activities on Shabbat in the halacha. But, as Reform Jews, we pay little heed to most of these rules. Also, we have no reservations about other traditional prohibitions, e.g. driving on Shabbat, turning on electric lights, cooking food, etc. Most Reform Jews carry money in their wallets and purses on Shabbat without the sense that they are violating the Shabbat. No doubt, many also engage in other activities that are not traditionally permissible. These activities, I realize, are considered violations of Shabbat, whether the practices are widespread or not. However, it seems to me that tzedakah may fall into a different category for us. After all, the individual who gives tzedakah is not benefitting in any material way. Given Reform Judaism’s deeply held convictions about the importance of tzedakah, could this mitzvah override the traditional prohibition in the view of our movement?


– Rabbi Michael Sternfield, Bradenton, FL

Answer: As we have seen, not using money – even for the most worthy of purposes – was a distinguishing feature of Shabbat observance, whose symbolic significance only grew over time.  Our evolving Shabbat observance, in a Reform context, has digressed from that consensus by recognizing a limited number of ways in which using money may enhance an individual’s Shabbat, by deepening their experience of it as a day of spiritual renewal, e.g., paying admission to a museum.  But in that case, the use of money is an incidental means to a central purpose of Shabbat.  It is not intended to grant unrestricted approval for spending money on Shabbat.  Indeed, our Reform precedents are unanimous in insisting that giving tzedakah is a financial transaction that should not be done on Shabbat, however praiseworthy it is to link it to Shabbat.  (By way of analogy, we might consider the Conservative movement’s decision to allow driving to synagogue.  That takkanah was made to enable Jews to attend public worship on Shabbat when 1950s suburbanization meant that synagogues were increasingly not within walking distance.  It did not give Conservative Jews blanket permission to grab keys and a full tank of gas to go out and “see the USA in their Chevrolet” on Shabbat.)

It is one thing to allow an individual to make a personal decision to use money as an incidental means to enhance their Shabbat renewal.  It is quite another to declare that the mitzvah of giving tzedakah – a commercial transaction – is so important that we may, or that we should, make it a regular, i.e., essential, part of our Shabbat observance.  We would be making a  fundamental alteration in the character of Shabbat.  If we are to do that, there must be a compelling reason to do so, a matter of overriding necessity.  We do not see any such  compelling reason or overriding necessity in the question before us.

As we have seen, our tradition has long accepted that it is perfectly acceptable to discuss communal affairs, including deciding tzedakah allocations (but not actually disbursing the funds), on Shabbat, and making pledges to give tzedakah.  Nothing is stopping the congregation from including a formal tzedakah appeal in the Shabbat service.  But why is it so crucial for the actual funds to be collected then?  And how are they to be collected?  Are the ushers passing a plate for cash, as in churches?  Handing out pens for people to write checks?  Carrying around credit card readers?  Encouraging congregants to take out their smart phones and make a donation via PayPal?  How can this be done as part of a Friday night (or Saturday morning) synagogue service without fundamentally altering the character of Shabbat in a way that destroys its sanctity?

We especially do not see a compelling reason, given that a congregation can still take advantage of the larger Shabbat attendance – as did our ancestors – without actually collecting money on Shabbat.  We therefore recommend the following solution to the matter.

Our congregations tend to hold services at the same hour on Friday nights throughout the year, regardless of when the sun actually sets.  For many Reform Jews, the start of the service is for all intents and purposes the start of Shabbat, when they feel that the Sabbath has come upon us ritually, emotionally, and intellectually.  Given that established practice, we suggest that you collect tzedakah before candle lighting and the beginning of worship.  In this way, carrying out the mitzvah of giving tzedakah immediately before entering into Shabbat heightens people’s awareness of the transition from ḥol to kodesh, and the difference between the two.  We note the existing custom of putting coins in a pushke (tzedakah box) before lighting the Shabbat candles, which is mentioned in our Reform guides; just as we have brought candle lighting into the synagogue, why not bring the pre-Shabbat tzedakah contribution as well?

(One of our committee members offers an additional pragmatic solution:  Add PayPal and other donation links to the synagogue webpage, and in the weekly Shabbat brochure, remind the kahal to donate to whatever tzedakah you choose for that week’s support.)

We believe very strongly that the synagogue, as the central public institution of Jewish life, embodies our covenant community, and therefore it must be the exemplar of Jewish life.  The standards we set for it may well differ from what we countenance on an individual level.  This is particularly true in a Reform context  precisely because we allow a great deal of latitude to individuals to determine their own Shabbat observance.  In essence, therefore, it falls upon the synagogue to provide an appropriate model.  As a movement we have made great strides since the 1960s in teaching our people how to observe Shabbat; bringing financial transactions into the synagogue on Shabbat would constitute an enormous step backward.

However, even if you do make a formal tzedakah collection your last weekday act before beginning Shabbat, we have additional reservations if it is done as a public activity.  Collecting money when the congregation is assembled for the service can make people uncomfortable for any one of several reasons: perhaps they did not bring money with them; perhaps they do not use money on Shabbat; or perhaps the appeal is for a cause they prefer not to support.  It can be very uncomfortable to refrain from giving in the presence of others.  It can also be awkward for guests and non-members:  We do not want people to feel that we are soliciting them when they enter the community to explore Judaism, check out our congregation, or attend a friend or family member’s simchah.  We therefore advise you to think carefully about how to do this, so that no one is embarrassed.

In addition, though we have not based our response on this consideration, we cannot discount the issue of ḥukkot ha-goy (imitating Gentile practices).  In our society, where Christianity is still the dominant religious tradition, collecting tzedakah during the Shabbat service cannot help but resonate with echoes of passing the collection plate in church.  Our concern is not merely the imitative element, but also the implicit lesson.  In calling to mind the dominant cultural paradigm of “charity,” it will teach a very un-Jewish lesson, that tzedakah is charity, i.e., something one does voluntarily, out of the goodness of one’s heart, rather than a mitzvah, a religious obligation, as Mishkan Moeid points out (see above).

Summary:

  1. The essence of Shabbat, in our tradition, is to be a holy day of rest and spiritual renewal, marked by cessation from labor and weekday occupations. Over centuries of Jewish life, refraining from the use of money – the ultimate transactional substance, and the essence of commercial activity – has been a key signifier of the distinction between kodesh and ḥol. This has been true in the Reform context despite our implicit rejection of rabbinic notions of melakhah, sh’vut, and muktzeh.
  2. Giving tzedakah is a financial transaction. Despite its stated importance in Reform Judaism, adding it to the mitzvot that ought to be performed on Shabbat would be a fundamental redefinition of Shabbat, and therefore should not be done unless there is an overriding need and compelling reason to do so.
  3. We find no overriding need and compelling reason to approve of giving tzedakah on Shabbat, since the sho’el’s stated purpose can be met in another way, even on erev Shabbat.

Read the complete responsum, including the classical halakhah and Reform precedents here, and find the CCAR’s collection of Reform responsa here. And to learn more about Jewish perspectives on money, read The Sacred Exchange: Creating a Jewish Money Ethic, published by CCAR Press.

The Sacred Exchange: Creating a Jewish Money Ethic

Categories
General CCAR Rabbis Reform Judaism

A New Year’s Message From CCAR Chief Executive, Hara Person: Looking Ahead Into 2020

Rabbi Hara Person, Chief Executive of the CCAR, reflects on her first six months as Chief Executive, her vision for the organization as 2020 begins, and her gratitude for the community of Reform rabbis.

Dear Rabbis,

Six months ago, I stepped in my new role as CCAR Chief Executive. It’s been quite a ride so far. I’ve had to transition from a specialist in Jewish publications, organizational strategy, and communications into a generalist in all things Reform rabbi. This has meant learning to stretch in new ways. Many of you have generously shared your wisdom and experience with me as I undertake this process of learning, and I am so grateful.

I am spending a good part of this first year in my role traveling with the intention of connecting with as many of you as possible. It is both a joy and a privilege to learn about your triumphs and your challenges, and to hear what brings you the greatest meaning in your rabbinate. I thank you for sharing yourselves with me—both the good and the sometimes painful.  I look forward to meeting and connecting with even more of you as I continue traveling.

As we step into 2020, I’m excited to see the third and last year of the Task Force on the Experience of Women in the Rabbinate reach its conclusion, and to then embed those findings, recommendations, and suggestions in the ongoing work of the CCAR in meaningful ways. We will also begin to implement the work of another important task force, that on Retirees and Successors. We have also begun a process of thinking about how the CCAR can evolve as our membership continues to diversify, with an ever greater percentage of our members serving in a wide range of roles throughout the Jewish world. And all of this is just a small part of what we’re busy with at CCAR; there are webinars and in-person meetings in development, new publications, other committees, task forces and commissions, trips being planned, and, of course, CCAR Convention 2020 in Baltimore, March 22–25.

One of the things about the CCAR that makes me so proud is the ways in which you are there for each other. For some of you, that means serving on committees or task forces or commissions that make the CCAR a stronger organization, for some that means contributing to our publications and helping us be the teachers and leaders of Reform Judaism, for some that is helping us find the resources we need to best support our mission, and for some that means being each other’s rabbis in moments of crisis. For so many of you, sadly for too many of you, this means finding meaningful ways to come together at this time of increased antisemitism. However it is that you participate in helping the CCAR achieve our highest aspirations, I am moved by your commitment, and I thank you for your gift of self.

I hope that I will see you in Baltimore as we gather to enter the next era of the CCAR. It will be a time for us to come together to learn, to study, and to teach. But even more, it will be a time for us to draw succor from being with other Reform rabbis, no matter the type of rabbinate, to celebrate together, to share together, and to gain strength from one another as we face the challenges of today.  

Sincerely,

Hara E. Person

Chief Executive, CCAR