Categories
congregations

Ten Common Missteps Congregations Make During Strategic Planning

Rabbis and lay leaders are rightfully anxious about the future viability of congregations due to a myriad of changes happening in American Jewry and beyond. Our Jewish institutions – particularly congregations — exist in an era that necessitates 1) the naming of obsolete ways of thinking and doing, 2) a willingness to experiment with fresh new approaches, and 3) the realization that the answers are probably as idiosyncratic as the community in which each congregation exists.

As process consultants we get to work with committed, creative, and forward-thinking lay leaders, clergy, and professional staff. We see the best of strategic visioning. We also see planning efforts that merely re-package the status quo.

Before we encourage a congregation to invest the time, money, and effort in strategic visioning, we ask leaders to consider whether they are truly ready for significant change. But even when this commitment exists, there are many ways to fail. Here are ten common mistakes that congregations make. How many of these look familiar?

 

  1. Look to the Meyvins: Don’t look for solutions from an outside expert. Your answers rest in the insight and aspirations of your people.

Tip: Design a process that enables all participants to become well versed regarding the congregation’s realities, challenges, and opportunities.

  1. Focus on Programs: Program innovation is an insufficient answer to creating a vibrant Jewish community, yet it often gets 80% of the attention and investment.

Tip: Look at innovations in structures (e.g., volunteer, dues, etc.), systems (e.g., education), and culture (e.g., welcome) as opportunities for real and sustainable change.

  1. Convene the Usual Suspects: Involving only the people who are already active and visible in congregational life will guarantee that you reproduce past thinking.

Tip: Bring together participants who represent the diverse make-up and aspirations of the congregation – people who represent the past, present, and the future

  1. Treat Congregants as Consumers: During strategy development the worst mistake you can make is to ask people what they need and want, and then end the conversation.

Tip: Instead ask: “What are you interested in helping to bring into being here?” Frame every conversation to encourage a “citizen” rather than consumer mindset.

  1. Emphasize Solutions to Urgent Gaps: Trying to solve short-term problems or Band Aid the most obvious challenges rather than deciding the future you want to create.

Tip: Focus on articulating a future that inspires people to invest their energy and resources instead of goals that emphasize the prevention of bad things from happening.

  1. Act from Scarcity: Avoid the assumption that whatever we want to accomplish in the future must be accomplished with today’s resources, infrastructure, staff, and volunteers.

Tip:  Avoid conflating the “what we aspire to become” conversation with the “how are we going to pay for it?” conversation.  Both matter but they need to happen separately.

  1. Set the Bar Low: Working to eliminate risk ensures achieving goals without meaning. If we always get it right, we are probably not taking enough creative risks.

Tip: Broaden the definition of “success” and be willing to view implementation as a series of pilots that reveal valuable lessons whether or not they get the desired results.

  1. Defend the Legacy of the Past: Focusing on how much better things are now than they use to be is a distraction. It may be true but does not foster a forward-thinking conversation.

Tip: Ask, what no longer serves our mission and what can we build upon to create the future we really want?

  1. Avoid Going First: Choose not to be the first in the community, the movement, or the country to do something that challenges conventional wisdom, boundaries, or rules.

Tip: Make a conscious decision to lead in small and big ways. Be prepared to disrupt the status quo, break with convention, and displease people who prefer things as they are.

  1. Take a Competitor Stance: Proceeding as if other congregations and institutions have interests that are separate, independent, and competing creates a self-fulfilling prophecy that ensures silos.

Tip: Look for ways to create a vibrant Jewish ecosystem in your community – one in you can play to your strengths while collaborating with others.

 

Although the act of going through a strategic planning exercise may feel reassuring and create the illusion that “we’re doing something,” it is insufficient to ensure a bright future for any organization.  The planning process itself must be a practice ground through which leaders change the kinds of limiting default habits described above.

—

Larry Dressler is a master process facilitator and trusted advisor to rabbis throughout the US.  Larry will be joining CCAR for an upcoming webinar, “Engagement 101 Are you a CEO – a Chief Engagement Officer?” and an upcoming in-person seminar titled, “Rabbi as (CEO) Chief Engagement Officer.“ 

Amy Rosenblum specializes in helping socially purposed organizations maximize their impact and ensure their sustainability. Both are based in Boulder, Colorado.

Categories
Ethics General CCAR lifelong learning Rabbis Reform Judaism

Balancing Critique and Gratitude: Lessons from the Study of Mussar

Like many rabbis, I receive a weekly email from the remnants of the Alban Institute, a premier source of information and consulting on issues facing religious congregations. Last week, Alban’s missive offered best practices for embracing young adults in congregational life. The source? Union for Reform Judaism’s Communities of Practice.

Few among us would have imagined that our Movement might set the bar for young adult engagement in American religious life. Fewer still would suggest that URJ is the source of whatever successes Reform Judaism might be having in that regard. I wondered if we are so busy criticizing the Union, among all our Movement organizations, including our own congregations and ourselves, that we fail to recognize success.

I received that Alban email on the day I arrived at the annual Kallah of the Southwest Association of Reform Rabbis (SWARR). This year, SWARR was treated to learning from our Movement’s leaders, including a panel discussion with CCAR President Rabbi Denise Eger, URJ President Rabbi Rick Jacobs, and HUC-JIR Los Angeles Campus Dean Dr. Joshua Holo. Our leaders were asked about areas of cooperation and areas of difficulty between the organizations they lead. Rabbi Jacobs noted that his counterparts in other Jewish religious movements often marvel at the very fact that our congregational and rabbinic bodies and seminary talk to one another, meeting regularly. Apparently, we are somewhat unique in that regard. Dr. Holo told us that, to the best of his extensive knowledge, we are the only religious movement or denomination in the world that co-funds its congregational body and seminary.

I wondered: To what extent does the tochechah (critique), which many of us frequently direct at our Movement institutions obscure our capacity for hakarat ha tov, literally “recognizing the good,” or gratitude? Conversely, to what extent has our tochechah (justified, appropriately expressed critique) contributed to the success we might now celebrate?

From my study and practice of Mussar, as taught by Alan Morinis, I have learned to seek the “golden mean” in attempting to balance my middot (soul-traits) and behavior. In making my own cheshbon nefesh (accounting of my soul), I find that I have been out of balance, erring on the side of tochechah, criticizing our Movement institutions – URJ, above all – without sufficient hakarat ha-tov (gratitude) for their important contributions to my rabbinate and congregational life. Oh yes, I regularly express gratitude for two aspects of URJ that we all praise, i.e., camps and the Religious Action Center. Now, though, I’m aware that there’s much more to praise. To correct the imbalance, I need to go out of my way to practice hakarat ha-tov, expressing gratitude; and I need to still my tongue or my typing fingers when tempted to issue tochechah (critique).

I suspect that I’m not alone.

Rabbi Barry Block serves Congregation B’nai Israel in Little Rock, Arkansas.

Categories
Social Justice Torah

Shabbat Tzedek- Memorializing Deliverance

As many of us ready ourselves to speak on Shabbat Tzedek in light of its proximity to Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, I find this week’s Torah portion a great place to start.  I have always been intrigued by this week’s parashah.  Here we are, just on the cusp of the climax of one of the greatest stories of the Jewish people.  Bo opens with a close-up on God telling Moses that Adonai has hardened Pharaoh’s heart so that God’s miracles can be witnessed by all.  The action builds… We pan out on the scene of locusts devouring Egyptian crops.  The drama continues… Roaring wind and thunder intensify the hail scene.  Then, lights out!  Darkness permeates Egypt.  All that can be seen is the light of the Israelite camp.  Next, a moment of intrigue; the Israelites are ordered to “borrow” gold and silver from the Egyptians.  And now, the moment we’ve been waiting for—Moses tells the Israelites of the final plague from God that will result in freedom.  We squirm with anticipation.  But then, just as the Israelites are about to flee from Egypt and cross the Sea of Reeds… Just as they are about to taste freedom for the first time in 430 years… Just as we think we can barely stay in our seats any longer—the action stops.  Everything pauses.  What’s going on?

On the one hand, it might be that the upcoming action is too significant to merely rush through.  The proper observance of the ritual of the Pesach (as Gunther Plaut explains, the “preparation of deliverance”) must be established.

On the other hand, and more significantly for us today, this pause calls attention to the the Torah’s shift in emphasis from the current action to the necessity for memorialization of the deliverance in the future.  In Exodus 13:9: “And it shall be a sign upon your hand, and a memorial (zicharon) between your eyes, that Adonai’s teaching may be in your mouth.”  Again in Exodus 13:16: “It shall be a sign upon your hand and for frontlets (totafot) between your eyes: for by the strength of God’s arm, Adonai brought us forth from Egypt.”

In these two verses, the word referring to the object that must be placed between the eyes is different — “zicharon” in verse 9 and “totafot” in verse 16.  Totafot is often translated as frontlets or bands.  Yet, there is room for another translation of totafot if we follow the connection to “hataf” (to preach or to speak).  Rashi explains, “Totafot would be an expression denoting ‘speaking’ and corresponds to zicharon because whoever sees them (the tefilin) bound between the eyes will remember the miracle (so they become a zicharon, a reminder) and will speak about it (so that they become totafot, something that causes one to speak about the miracle).”

In every age, we must memorialize the miracle of this radical deliverance and keep it at the center of our vision.  This memorial “between our eyes” must get us to speak on behalf of justice in our own day.  Memorializing deliverance is different from simply celebrating our freedom.  Memorializing deliverance means remembering the cruel oppression of our past, both our physical and spiritual oppression. Yet, owning up to the responsibility of our identity as Jews means not only recognizing the oppression in our own past in Egypt, but understanding that mitzrayim still exists wherever the narrowness of oppression continues to rear its ugly head.  And, for many of us, mitzrayim exists in our own cities as racial inequality persists.

Lawyer and social justice activist Bryan Stevenson declared on our bimah this past Shabbat:

“All of us are burdened in this nation by our history of racial inequality.  We’ve all been compromised, we’ve all been sabotaged, our ability to be a free place has been undermined by this history of racial equality that we haven’t talked about, and I think we need to talk about it…”

At dinner afterward he continued:

“There are zip codes in this city (Chicago) where the majority of children are born into violent households and live in violent neighborhoods, and they go to violent schools, and by the time they are five they have been traumatized by that violence, and we’re not doing anything to respond.  We’re responding to our wounded warriors coming back from Afghanistan… because we realize that trauma is a disability we have to treat, but there are thousands of children in this city that are carrying that same disability, and we’re not responding to that.  I do think that all of us are implicated by that.” 

Pastor Michael Nabors from Second Baptist Church in Evanston called us to action with the words of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr:  “The ultimate tragedy is not the oppression and cruelty by the bad people but the silence over that by the good people.”

We know that we will not be judged by how well we speak on this Shabbat Tzedek or how well we preach in the wider community on MLK Day, but how we act alongside others when that day has passed.  Therefore, I’m grateful for the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism’s meaningful call to action on Tuesday, January 19th: Call-In Day for Sentencing Reform when we will have the opportunity to urge Congress to pass the Sentencing Reform and Corrections Act (S. 2123).  Let us stand up and speak out with our vision centered on tzedek.

—

Rabbi Shoshanah Conover serves Temple Sholom of Chicago.

 

 

Categories
Convention Israel

Looking Forward to 2016 and #CCAR16

As I turn the page in the calendar to 2016, I like to see what lies ahead for me in this secular New Year, and what it is I’m looking forward to experiencing.  Just around the corner on February 23-28, I’m excited to travel to Israel for the CCAR convention. While I have led trips to Israel, I’ve not been to a CCAR convention in Israel since 1995. As a participant I’m anticipating the potential opportunities for spiritual growth both professionally and personally.

One part of this Israel convention which I am most looking forward to is interacting with colleagues, especially our Israeli colleagues, and exploring the country together with them.  So infrequently do we get a chance to be with so many Israeli Reform rabbis.  Side by side we will have the opportunity to speak with them about Israeli Arabs, Palestinians, Settlements, ultra-Orthodox, gender gaps, or environmental issues. We will also travel to different parts of the country to meet with Israelis who will teach us about their first hand experiences in these areas.  With our Israeli colleagues we’ll explore the country and learn.

Another part of #CCAR16 which I eagerly await is Shabbat. Unlike other CCAR conventions, we get to share Shabbat together when our convention is in Israel.  On Friday night for our Shabbat worship we’ll have the opportunity to travel to one of our Israeli colleague’s congregations and participate.  We’ll experience firsthand how Progressive Israelis observe Shabbat. With our Israeli colleagues and their communities, we’ll pray and celebrate Shabbat.

When we journey to Israel, it’s not so much the sites we see, as the people and the mifgashim (encounters) we share.  I’m ever reminded of this at the end of Yehuda Amichai’s poem, Tourists.

Once I sat on the steps by agate at David’s Tower,
I placed my two heavy baskets at my side. A group of tourists
was standing around their guide and I became their target marker. “You see
that man with the baskets? Just right of his head there’s an arch
from the Roman period. Just right of his head.” “But he’s moving, he’s moving!”
I said to myself: redemption will come only if their guide tells them,
“You see that arch from the Roman period? It’s not important: but next to it,
left and down a bit, there sits a man who’s bought fruit and vegetables for his family.”

The CCAR convention takes place in Israel once every seven years; don’t miss it this year. Come explore, learn, pray, celebrate Shabbat and be open to the potential to grow professionally and personally.  Click here to register.

—

Rabbi Amy L. Memis-Foler serves Temple Judea Mizpah in Skokie, IL.

Categories
Israel resolutions

One Resolution, Many Voices

The CCAR Board recently adopted a comprehensive resolution entitled, “CCAR Declaration of Love for the State of Israel and Its People.” As chair of the Resolutions Committee, I was responsible for shepherding the process of developing an idea into a proposal fit for the Board’s consideration.

Toward the end of debate, hours before the Board approved the final, amended resolution, one Board member referred to the document as “polyglot.” Thin-skinned and exhausted at the climax of an arduous process, I took that characterization as an epithet. I was wrong. What our colleague meant was that the resolution reflected many voices. The resolution finds its greatest strength in being multi-vocal.

This Resolution began with the submission of a proposal, “End the Occupation,” by Rabbi Hillel Gamoran, co-signed by a large number of colleagues.

The Resolutions Committee considered that proposal carefully during two successive meetings. After the first, I presented it to the Board, with the recommendation that the Resolutions Committee propose a more comprehensive resolution, to address the issues raised by Rabbi Gamoran and others. By that time, CCAR leadership and I had reviewed our existing resolutions on Israel — notably a comprehensive piece, “Where We Stand on Israel,” a 2002 statement in need of replacement. The Board asked the Resolutions Committee to proceed.

A long drafting and consultation process ensued. Colleagues who lead ARZA, MARAM, and the CCAR Israel Committee were intimately involved. Colleagues from across the ideological spectrum were asked to review drafts, and none were shy about offering suggestions. ARZA leadership reminded us to be careful, given that we treasure Israeli colleagues and cherish a growing Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism. We knew that; after all, we had already consulted the chair of MARAM. Still, the delicacy of our task was brought home to us very clearly.

At one point, a colleague consulted by our President, Denise Eger, submitted a complete re-write, which didn’t change the substance of the proposal, but which was better written, strengthening its voice. I substituted that version for the one with which I had been working, changing it only in ways that were necessary to maintain the support of our key partners.

Throughout the process, Denise Eger, Steve Fox, and I were mindful of the large number of colleagues who had signed onto the earlier proposal that Hillel Gamoran had placed before us. A Resolutions Committee member who lives near Rabbi Gamoran repeatedly brought him drafts, inviting input, which was carefully considered. (To cite only one example, at Rabbi Gamoran’s suggestion, the phrase “Occupied Territories” was included in two places.) Naturally, not all of the input we received, from Rabbi Gamoran nor anyone else, from across the ideological spectrum, could be accepted.

Throughout the process, I adopted a philosophy about suggested edits: Unless I absolutely couldn’t make a suggested change, I accepted it. Working in Word, the function I used the most was “accept insertion (or deletion).” I rejected only edits which violated my arcane sense of English grammar and style or which I knew would force our key partners to withdraw support. The process required a level of bitul ha-yesh (getting my own ego out of the way), which isn’t necessarily characteristic of me!

Ultimately, after again considering Rabbi Gamoran’s submission, and much discussion, the Resolutions Committee substituted our own draft for Rabbi Gamoran’s proposal. The Board adopted the Committee’s recommendation with amendments.

The result is long and multifaceted, reflecting the complexity of the issues and the variety of topics addressed. I hope that signatories to Rabbi Gamoran’s proposal will see that concepts they viewed as important are reflected, even as I hope that those who declined to sign with Rabbi Gamoran find the adopted resolution to be a statement that they can support. I note that several issues surely important to signatories of Rabbi Gamoran’s proposal, but not included in it – the status of Reform Judaism in Israel and equality of Israel’s Palestinian citizens, to name just two – are included here. Other issues that the CCAR hadn’t previously formally addressed in a resolution – most notably our rejection of the Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions (BDS) movement – also merited inclusion in this comprehensive document. On that last point, I should add that the Resolutions Committee is now working on a stand-alone resolution on BDS, a topic that requires greater exploration than it has received in the past, too extensive to fit into our “Expression of Love for the State of Israel and Its People.”

I have chaired the Resolutions Committee off and on for many years – too many, in fact; but that’s a subject for another day. I mention my longevity in this role here only to emphasize that I have never steered a process that invited the interest of so many CCAR members, or one that included so many voices in both the drafting process and the final product.

Otto von Bismarck observed, “Laws are like sausages; it is better not to see them being made.” I used this metaphor a few times toward the end of the process described above, lamenting that I had been “standing over the sausage grinder for a couple of months.”

Upon reflection, though, our resolution reminds me less of sausage than of chocolate cake made with orange juice. I don’t understand how orange juice is in some chocolate cake recipes; but I know that, when it is, the cake is delectable. Standing over a mix-master can be tiring, and one never knows how the cake will turn out. Still, adhering to a recipe that assures that the cake will rise, while remaining open to innovation, can produce a delicious cake.

—

Rabbi Barry Block serves Congregation B’nai Israel in Little Rock, Arkansas.

Categories
interfaith Rabbis

An Open Letter to My Dead Mother-in-Law at Christmas

Dear Bestemor (Grandmother),

We are here in Norway over Christmas.  I am sure you would be surprised since we have not visited at this season for the last 14 years. Before then, we regularly came at Christmas and stayed through New Year’s. I sat at your holiday table next to the Christmas tree in a house fully decked out in the Norwegian Christmas spirit, less garish than the American mode, but still full-on Christmas. In appropriate Norwegian style, we never spoke of why we stopped visiting at this time of year, but my guess is that you knew why. If you had been a Jewish New Yorker like me, we would have surely talked heatedly about this or perhaps even yelled and said regrettable words to one another. And you would have plagued me with unrestrained guilt for withholding the joy any grandmother deserved. But you were Norwegian and so bore your feelings wordlessly.

I thank you for making it easier. I apologize that now only after your death we have reappeared at the darkest time of the year to clean out your home and care for your widower, our beloved Bestefar, Grandfather.

As you knew, I am a Jew, a religious Reform Jew and a rabbi at that. It is not clear to me if you fully understood that last part, so integral to my identity. I met your son, my beloved, in Jerusalem on Rosh HaShanah. He was studying as a visiting doctoral candidate at Hebrew University; I was starting my American rabbinical studies with a first year in Israel. He was deep into his conversion studies; I was heady with my renewed love of Judaism. A perfect match.

Now 24 years later, I preach and teach, confidently speaking of intermarriage, pronouncing that we are ALL intermarried, whether we know it or not. It is true. In every American Jewish extended family there are members who are not Jewish. It would be extraordinarily rare to find a family untouched by the mixing inevitable in our modern world. Ours is no different. We navigate holidays, vacations and lifecycle events with this extra dimension of challenge, blessing and, yes sometimes, tension.

I could not continue to return for Christmas even though I wrote about my experiences at your holiday table so glowingly (“Kosher Christmas Dinner,” The Sacred Table: Creating a Jewish Food Ethic, CCAR Press: 2011). I described the kosher food laid out harmoniously next to the abundant treif, non-kosher food. Yet, I could not continue to visit during my son’s formative years despite your joy to host him. As someone trained to imprint religion on the next generation, I fully understood that the sights, sounds, tastes of a holiday, mixed with folklore of presents brought to the good little barna, children, all within a grandmother’s loving embrace, is the most powerful way to bond with religion.

It is ironic, as we were just about to announce a Christmas trip to Norway this year when you died suddenly in November. Our previous vacation plans fell through and, aware of your and Bestefar’s age, we thought it prudent to add an extra visit to the yearly schedule. The toddler who once marveled over the Christmas decorations in your house is now a teen, developing his own Jewish identity. He is surely beyond the stage of simple imprinting.

Please know that I never wanted to cause you any heartbreak. We stopped visiting in December and instead found other times for the long haul to your family. In addition, a continent away, I put your pictures around my baby’s crib and surrounded him with Norwegian culture. It was only fair to my husband and you, his family, that our child grow up knowing his people on both sides. I think you knew this, as you enjoyed speaking Norwegian with him on the phone and in person. Perhaps, this brought you joy the other 364 days of the year, but I am sure on Christmas it did not. Thank you for not obstructing our choices as parents; thank you for accepting difficult compromises with grace.

With much love,

Your American Jewish daughter-in-law

—

Mary Zamore is Executive Director of the Women’s Rabbinic Network and was editor of “The Sacred Table: Creating a Jewish Food Ethic.”  She is also currently the interim director of Mentoring for the CCAR.

Categories
Convention Israel Rabbis Reform Judaism

How Do Israelis Do It? – Getting Ready for #CCAR16

I often ask myself, how do Israelis maintain balance in life?  Israeli life is filled with political unrest and social stress in addition to work and family transitions that have their own challenging rhythms.  So yes, how do Israelis do it? Come to the 2016 CCAR Convention (#CCAR16) from February 23-28, and you will learn how Israelis do it.

Join your colleagues as we explore the various ways that Israeli society responds to the question, “How do Israelis do it?”   How do Israelis cope with the ongoing psycho-social-spiritual battery of one on one physical combat and warfare? How do Israelis cope with significant physical injury and post traumatic stress?

Learn from shared real experience and select a couple sessions from these options:

  • Meet Etgarmin heroes and learn of their life challenges.
  • Dialogue with JDC representative who guide the Ruderman Disability Awareness and Inclusion program.
  • Interface with the leadership of the Israel Center for the Treatment of Psycho-trauma and learn how they frame their values and practice.
  • Examine the creative contemporary healing function of Mikvah in Israeli society.

You could walk or run the Tel Aviv Marathon, half marathon, 10K, or 5K. Every rabbi who participates in the run/walk has the opportunity raise significant money to benefit Reform Judaism throughout Israel.  Together we will make a significant statement about our commitment to Israel, while supporting it financially.  CCAR is also offering a scholarship, applicable final_rotatortoward airfare and/or hotel costs, of up to 10% of the amount raised in your name.

Or, you could select another option and participate in the wellness track, which includes early morning meditation, yoga, or Tai Chi by the sea, followed by a face to face psycho-social-spiritual conversation.  You will walk away refreshed and renewed by the energy and passion of Israeli social services that speak with heart and soul.

On a personal note, after the conference, I’m riding with the Riding4Reform cycling experience that allows you to experience the land and people close up and personal. It is also a wonderful way to contribute to the Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism.  Find me at riding4reform.org to sponsor me – or join me!

—

Rabbi Karen Fox has been named Rabbi Emerita at Wilshire Boulevard Temple in Los Angeles, California.

Categories
General CCAR Rabbis Reform Judaism

Celebrating the Transformation of Catholic-Jewish Relations

This year marks the 50th anniversary of one of the biggest events in religious history. It was an event so groundbreaking and transformational that we can’t even remember a time before it. But all I have to do is ask my grandparents. There was a time when many Jews and Catholics did not get along at all.

My older relatives remember as children being harassed, spit on, or and beaten up on the way home from school by young Catholics who had learned in their Sunday school classes that Jews had killed Jesus. On Easter, there could be moments when it felt risky to be out in the streets.

Rabbi Joshua Stanton at IJCIC Meeting at the UN. Photo by Dov Lenchevsky
Rabbi Joshua Stanton at IJCIC Meeting at the UN. Photo by Dov Lenchevsky

People of my parents’ generation remember being ill at ease talking about religion with Catholic friends and colleagues, who didn’t necessarily espouse anti-Semitic views but didn’t necessarily have a favorable view of Jews, either.

As a 29 year-old rabbi, I remember nothing but love. I remember getting cards and hugs from Catholic neighbors and friends on the occasion of my Bar Mitzvah. I remember running in the bird sanctuary of my alma mater with a traditional Catholic who wanted to have “at least 9 children” but had nothing but affection for Jews, whom he saw as fellow people of God. I remember a dear Catholic colleague bringing his son to meet me at my synagogue earlier this year, so that his son could learn about Judaism and how beautifully it connected with his own faith.

Loving, openhearted relationships are now the norm between Catholic and Jewish communities. But it could not have been so without Nostra Aetate, the landmark accord that the Church promulgated as part of the Second Vatican Council. The proclamation affirms the sacred nature of the Jewish people and their covenant with God:

Since the spiritual patrimony common to Christians and Jews is thus so great, this sacred synod wants to foster and recommend that mutual understanding and respect which is the fruit, above all, of biblical and theological studies as well as of fraternal dialogues.

The theological clarification of Nostra Aetate was mirrored by continued changes in the attitudes of Vatican leadership and the Catholic Church as an institution. These shifts were so significant that it is difficult for many to envision a time before them.

IJCIC Meeting at the UN. Photo by Dov Lenchevsky
IJCIC Meeting at the UN. Photo by Dov Lenchevsky

This week, on December 16th, leaders from the International Jewish Committee on Interreligious Consultation (IJCIC), which liaises on behalf of the Jewish community with the Vatican and World Council of Churches, and includes representatives from major Jewish organizations, including the Central Conference of American Rabbis, convened a celebration at the United Nations in collaboration with the Holy See. It commemorated the full half-century since the promulgation of Nostra Aetate and looked ahead to the promising future of Catholic-Jewish relations.

Jewish philosopher Bernard-Henri Levy delivered a keynote address, along with discourse from leaders of both communities, including Archbishop Bernardito Auza, who leads the Holy See’s delegation to the United Nations.

I am fortunate to be one of the CCAR’s representatives to this organization and had the privilege of helping to convene the gathering at the United Nations. It was a moment of celebration and formally acknowledged just how far Jewish and Catholic communities had come in their relations with one another.

I had the unlikely opportunity to speak at the convening, providing the perspective of a younger person, who was not alive until decades after Nostra Aetate was issued. For me as a Millennial and a rabbi, it seemed fearfully evident how easy it would be to overlook the time before Nostra Aetate. The document falls prey to its own success, as changes happened so quickly since its issuance that we can scarcely conceive of what it might have been like to be called a Christ-killer or have anti-Semitism run rampant in the world’s largest religious institution.

Many young Jews and Catholics have never even heard of the document. But when it is easiest to forget, we should be particularly keen to remember.

The process of creating Nostra Aetate and the tremendous efforts on the part of Jewish and Catholic leaders to lay the groundwork for it should serve as an enduring example. Even the most fraught of inter-communal relationships can be changed. Nostra Aetate should be not merely a reminder of the past, but also a guide to the future.

Yes, it took years of toil and challenging conversation within and between Catholic and Jewish leadership circles to complete. But in the end, Nostra Aetate is an enduring testament to interreligious dialogue and a reminder of the good it can do. In our time of turbulence and global uncertainty, it should serve as a guide to our steps and call us to improve relations between the Jewish community and those of other faith traditions.

Rabbi Joshua Stanton is the Assistant Rabbi at Temple B’nai Jeshurun in Short Hills, New Jersey, and co-Leader of Tribe, a group for young Jewish professionals in New York. He also serves as one of the representatives from the Central Conference of American Rabbis to the International Jewish Committee for Interreligious Consultations, which liaises with the Vatican and other international religious bodies. 

 

Categories
Books High Holy Days Machzor Mishkan haNefesh spirituality

Our Most Meaningful Yizkor Service, Ever

For us at The Temple in Atlanta, Mishkan HaNefesh provided us the perfect opportunity to utilize our current practices alongside the most innovative, thoughtful, and moving prayers and poems in the entire machzor.

While some have chosen to read the Seven Lights of Yizkor (beginning on page 536) metaphorically, we choose to actually light seven candles. This new ritual dramatically added to the power of the service. Seven members of our clergy each led one of the candle lightings. (This can easily be adapted for lay leadership). Each section contained an introductory reading, a musical selection, and then a few moments for personal reflection (see page 554). We actually read the reflection questions in each session out loud and allowed a few moments for silence. Finally, a member of the clergy recited the chatimah and then lit the candle.

We deliberately chose some readings from a wide spectrum – emotional, academic, helpful, challenging, and provocative. Each year, we will refine the chosen readings to reflect the year that has passed and the mood we hope to achieve. Some of the most evocative readings included:

  • This is the Hour of Memory (page 541) to open the service
  • The Echo of Your Promise (page 561) based on Psalm 77
  • May God Remember (a two page spread with the relationships we remember at Yizkor)
  • Forgiveness And The Afterlife (page 581)
  • Father (page 589)
  • One Morning Shortly After My Mother Died (page 592)

We invite you to see the yizkor service outline we used.

Additionally, there are certain customs we have established over the years that blended perfectly with the new liturgy:

  1. Members of our High School Girls’ Yizkor Choir sing two selections each year. After a rabbinic meditation on looking at our memorial booklet to view the names of those who passed away this year, the choir sang the poignant words of Take My Name by Juliet Spitzer.
  2. After the seventh candle, members of our Yizkor Choir recited 18 remembrances (Tapestry of Memories) from congregational eulogies spanning Yom Kippur 5775 to 5776. The selections were carefully chosen by the Rabbis and provided the most emotionally powerful moment of the service.
  3. Immediately after the eulogy selections, the Yizkor Choir sang “For Good” (from Wicked– with some of the text changed to accommodate the sacredness of the moment). At the end of the first chorus, the singing stopped, but the piano continued to play softly. The rabbis then read the names of our members who passed away since last Yom Kippur. With the recitation of the last name, the choir resumed the text and concluded the composition.

Mishkan HaNefesh Cover Picture (Light) 10_14_2014The feedback we received from the congregation was extraordinary. Hundreds of members went back to view the service – again – from the livestream feed on our website. I am grateful to the CCAR for the gift of this machzor as a tool to enhance what is arguably the most important 60 minute liturgical experience of the entire year. This hour was, without question, our most significant Yizkor service, ever!

Rabbi Peter S. Berg is senior rabbi at The Temple, Atlanta GA.

Categories
spirituality

Spirituality in the Rabbinate

I was ordained in 2007, and accepted the position as the solo rabbi in a very small, extremely remote congregation in southeast Alabama.  My nearest colleague (Rabbi Elliot Stevens) is a two hour drive away.  Mine is the only synagogue in 100 mile radius, and we are located in the buckle of the Bible Belt where it is assumed if you walk and breathe, you must be a Christian.  My congregation is wonderful, and I have really enjoyed my 8 1/2 years here.

However, I should tell you that while I learned so much at HUC, I was not prepared spiritually at all.  We never talked about our relationships with God, we never prayed, except at services. Every meeting here in the south begins with a prayer, and I swear I was a deer in the headlights the first time I was asked to begin a meeting with a spontaneous prayer.

I think the lack of spiritual training hurts us and it hurts our congregations.  I have never once been asked to translate Talmud; in fact, most of my congregants only have a vague idea what Talmud is.  But when I do sermons or adult education on prayer or God, I am overwhelmed by the response. There is such a hunger among our congregants for a relationship with God, to learn about God and prayer.  And it is the area where I seem to have the least expertise.  Thank goodness for good books!

And I have so felt so empty spiritually myself so much of the time.  I cannot pray during services.  I have no cantor, so it is just me leading services and the music.  How can I do all that and focus on God?  It just doesn’t happen. I tried praying on my own using the prayer book.  That did not work at all.  And I am so busy because I am the only rabbi around.  It is truly a 24/7 job. Finding time to enhance my spirituality falls on the back burner.

I have been fortunate to be involved with a group of Christian clergy women, all seminary ordained. We meet once a month to study, or to let our hair down and complain about how the robes never fit right, or why dresses and slacks don’t have pockets to put your portable mike in, or most importantly to share serious problems we are having. There are many people down here who don’t think women should be leading a congregation, so we are a support group for each other.

I was surprised when I found out that all of the other clergy in my group are REQUIRED to have spiritual direction.  Required!!  The nun from the Catholic Church is REQUIRED to go to a spirituality retreat every year.  I wondered why we Reform Rabbis do not have anything like that.  I thought about it for a very long time, and finally approached one of the women ministers to ask about spiritual direction.  Of course, a Jewish spiritual director is out of the question here in Alabama, but I have a director who is Methodist. I have been seeing her once a month, driving two hours each way.  I’m slowly but surely getting my head straight and reestablishing the relationship I had with God before I started HUC.  I find it ironic that I lost the relationship I had with God which helped propel me into HUC while I was at HUC.  In any event, I look forward to seeing Lesley each month, and think I am becoming a better rabbi because of the explorations I am doing with her.

So I want to ask, why do we not have any training in this most important aspect of our rabbinate?  I took four required classes in Talmud, yet never talked to anyone about God, except theoretically as part of a Bible class or Philosophy.  I know now that the Institute for Jewish Spirituality does very good work in this field.  I am also aware that some inroads for spirituality training have been made on the LA and NY campuses of HUC, but I have not heard anything about Cincinnati.  And Rabbi Rex Perlmeter wrote a blog post around the High Holy Days about spirituality programs he is doing through the CCAR.  We are becoming more aware of the need to talk and teach about spirituality and our relationship with God.  I hope it continues and becomes an integral part of training for future rabbis.

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Rabbi Lynne Goldsmith serves Temple Emanu-El of Dothan, Alabama