Categories
Convention Israel

Patience: The Other Side of the Coin, in Jerusalem

Tuesday, during the opening sessions of the Central Conference of American Rabbis Israel Convention, I was impatient. No, the programs didn’t start late, nor were they slow. I was impatient about the content.

I have been at all four CCAR conventions in Israel since my ordination. Today’s sessions about the two-state solution and about the rights of Palestinians could have taken place at my first, in 1995. In fact, programs on exactly those topics have been held at all four Israel conventions that I have attended.

Convention planners cannot be blamed. A two-state solution is less promising today than it was in early 1995, when then-Foreign Minister Shimon Peres shared his vision of a Middle East Economic Union, mirroring the European Union, which he dreamed would result from the fulfillment of the Oslo Accords. Peace is just as urgent as it was on March 9, 2002, when a Palestinian terrorist blew himself up at the Moment Cafe, murdering eleven Israeli citizens and injuring scores of others, just blocks from our convention hotel. The rights of Israel’s Arab citizens remain as compromised as they were when a 2009 excursion took us to a Bedouin village that lacked both sewage and safe drinking water.

At the very same time when these sessions were in progress, the CCAR distributed a blog that I had written on the airplane, on the way to the convention, “The Supreme Court Vacancy and the Soul-Trait of Patience.” The irony wasn’t lost on me, stewing as I was in my impatience: Impatience over successive Israeli governments’ failure to make the two state solution an urgent priority and to grant every Israeli citizen the rights promised in the Jewish State’s Declaration of Independence. Should I be more patient with the Israeli government, just as I wished that America’s leaders had patiently waited until after Justice Scalia’s funeral before discussing or fighting about his successor?

No.

In my study and practice of Mussar with Alan Morinis over these last five years, I have learned that patience is on everyone’s spiritual curriculum. More people tend to be too impatient than too patient, and I’m certainly in that larger group. Still, as with any soul-trait, one can be out of balance in either direction. One can be too patient.

Reform rabbis are in Israel this week to declare that we will be no more patient in urging the Israeli government to seek peace than we were with authorities’ refusal to permit women to read from the Torah at the Western Wall. We are no more patient in seeking full equality for all of Israel’s citizens than we are in demanding that marriages solemnized by our Israeli Reform and Conservative rabbinical colleagues be recognized by the state.

Tonight, we demonstrated our righteous impatience collectively, as we marched for tolerance from Dormition Abbey to Beit Shmuel. The Abbey has frequently been the target of so-called “Price Tag” vandals. The “logic” begins these attacks is that somebody must “pay the price” for violence against Jews. Who could disagree? Terrorists should pay a price for their crimes. A heavy one. Innocent German abbots at a Christian holy place, though, are anything but terrorists. To the melodies of a Hebrew psalm and German and English hymns, we prayed that the violence end. Marching behind a banner of tolerance and bearing lights, we demonstrated that we will be no more patient in awaiting the end of violence perpetrated by Jewish terrorists than we are in demanding the end of Palestinian terrorism.

Today, in Jerusalem, I was impatient. I expect to be impatient all week.

–—

Rabbi Barry Block serves Congregation B’nai Israel in Little Rock, Arkansas.  Rabbi Block chairs the CCAR Resolutions Committee.

Categories
Convention Israel

Balancing Self Preservation and Justice

I attended the Pre-Convention morning studying at the Shalom Hartman Institute with Yossi Klein Halevi on Tuesday.

The Jewish people read a lot of text. We do this to remember our history, to study our most important values, and because text both ancient and modern can help to reveal ourselves to ourselves. Tuesday morning Yossi Klein Halevi helped us explore the competing values of “Remember you were strangers ” which teaches us that we may not be brutal, and “Remember what Amalek did to you…,” which teaches us that we shouldn’t be naive.

On the surface it may not be clear how these values may compete, but when we read them with an eye towards the relationship between Israelis and Palestinians we begin to see how hard it may be to find a balance. We, the Jewish people must not behave in a brutal way. We must not oppress the stranger, we must love our neighbor as ourselves, and yet when we have a long and difficult relationship with our neighbor, with the people we share land with, how can we forget, how can we love when we understand that this relationship is not so easy. How can we both avoid naïveté and brutality with the neighbor and the history that we have.

Through chevruta and with the larger group we examined multiple texts with an eye toward finding a balance both between brutality and naïveté and between self-preservation and justice.

For me the stand out text was was a poem by Uri Zvi Greenberg, “Holy of Holies.” Written in the early 1950’s, this poem is a conversation between Uri and his mother who was killed in the Holocaust. In it she says to him, “And even when the Redeemer comes, and the nations shall beat their swords into/ pruning-hooks and throw their rifles into the fire–/ you will not, my son, you will not!/ …Lest the nations arise again and gather iron/ and rise against us again and we will not be prepared/ as we were not prepared until now!” He posits that the Holocaust or all of Jewish history teaches us that even after the messiah comes we can not lower our guard because the nations will always come for us. And so we will always wear our uniforms and carry our weapons or we risk history repeating once again.

And yet, we must love our neighbors as ourselves. We must love ourselves, we must love our neighbors and we must do these things in equal measure.

I do not know if balancing justice with self-preservation, or brutality with naivete, or even self love with neighbor love will bring the coming of the messiah or even just peace in the Middle East, but I  would like to see us continue in this struggle. It’s a good one.

—

Rabbi Elizabeth Dunsker serves Congregation Kol Ami in Vancouver, Washington.

Categories
Convention Israel

Past, Present, and Future: My Day at HUC-JIR

It has been 12 years since I was a first-year student on the HUC-JIR campus in Jerusalem, but the moment I walked up the steps to 13 King David Street this morning, it felt like I had never left.   There were familiar faces, and new faces, but the stones felt the same underneath my feet, a walk through the library brought many memories to mind, and the music of tefillah stirred my soul.

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I started the day by joining in prayer with Israeli rabbinical students for Shacharit.  I did not attend very many services with Israeli rabbinic students during my Year in Israel, so I was grateful to have the opportunity to do so today.  After tefillah ended, we were treated to talks by two up-and-coming scholars from the Jerusalem campus.  Dr. Yifat Teharani taught us about biblical archaeology, focusing on the surprisingly multicultural nature of the desert society during the First Temple period (i.e. between the 6th and 8th centuries BCE).  Dr Dalia Marx taught us about the Cairo Geniza, and the ways in which some of the Geniza’s liturgical texts have begun making their way into contemporary uses.   Although the talks were different in tone and field of study, the themes were similar – reflecting on what we know of the past and how a deeper understanding of it can enrich the present and future of the Jewish state and the Jewish people.

FullSizeRender (1)We ate lunch with the Israeli rabbinical students, and I had the pleasure of connecting with several different students.  It turns out that one of them – Noa – is planning to do her final project at HUC on the intersection of dance and Judaism, and that is a topic that I’m particularly passionate about, too.  In fact, part of what brought me to Israel for this trip is a project I’m doing as part of the Covenant Foundation’s Pomegranate Prize.  I am spending a few additional days in Israel exploring the role of dance in modern Israeli society, including taking a Gaga class – not the children’s game we call “gaga,” but a unique dance form that was developed in israel and is now taught around the world.  I also spent a day at the International Dance Village, which is home to about 80 dancers from Israel and around the world who have come there to live and to dance.  It was exciting to meet Noa at HUC and discover that we share an interest in the integration of dance into Jewish life!IMG_9494

After lunch we were treated to more inspiring speakers and teachers, as we learned about the work of Dr. Ruhama Weiss and the pastoral care program on the Jerusalem campus, along with Dorit and Vivian of the amazing inter-religious “Healing Hatred” program that is sponsored by HUC. Dorit is a (Jewish) Israeli woman and Vivian is a Palestinian woman, and they help to lead an innovative year-long pastoral training program that brings together Israelis and Palestinians to address conflict-related trauma with the tools of spiritual care.

When I felt like there couldn’t possibly be anything more inspiring than the work of Healing Hatred, we were introduced to two students who are almost finished with their studies in the Israeli rabbinic program.  Tamir Nir grew up in a Sefardic masorti (traditional) family in Jerusalem and then moved with his parents to Gush Etziyon (i.e. a Jewish settlement in the West Bank) when he was 10 years old.  He is now not only a soon-to-be Reform Rabbi – which is remarkable enough given his background – but he is also the current Deputy Mayor of Jerusalem.  He spoke beautifully about the challenges faced by Jerusalem’s city council, including the challenges inherent in trying to provide provide better municipal services to residents of East Jerusalem, and the connections he sees between his role as a liberal / Reform rabbi and his day-to-day work as the Deputy Mayor.  We also met Yael Karrie, who works with Jewish and Arab communities in the Negev, along the border with Gaza.  She has created a number of programs to build bridges between people, including InLight, in which congregations throughout Israel joined hands with their Arab and Bedouin neighbors last December to “bring in the light” through a variety of programs meant to promote a shared society.IMG_8180

Overall I feel like this blog has been one big info-mercial for various people and organizations, but the truth is that today felt like a giant dose of IMG_8186 (1)inspiration as a result of what is happening at HUC in Jerusalem and by HUC’s faculty and students.  The first two professors who gave talks about their academic specialties also spoke about how their work is linked to outside projects that are aimed at bettering Israeli society (Dr. Teharani founded a Scouts program in South Tel Aviv for children of immigrant, refugee, and migrant-worker families; Dr. Marx is working on the creation of a new liberal siddur for Israelis).  We closed the day with a mincha service led by the first-year cantorial students, and a rousing, uplifting rendition of Oseh Shalom captured my feelings perfectly – that although I came to Israel feeling great despair over the state of affairs in this country, today’s experiences at HUC gave me a renewed glimmer of hope and optimism about the possibilities for the future.

—

Rabbi Nicki Greninger is the Director of Education at Temple Isaiah in Lafayette, CA.  This is Rabbi Greninger’s first CCAR Convention.

 

Categories
Death News spirituality

The Supreme Court Vacancy and the Soul-Trait of Patience

When Justice Antonin Scalia died suddenly and unexpectedly, a week ago Saturday, I experienced the same surge of emotion that many Americans felt. Sadness for the life lost and for a person, his family and friends, none of whom I know, was tinged with either sadness and fear about the future of our country without Justice Scalia on the Supreme Court or gratitude at the prospect of the Justice’s being replaced on the Court by a fifth liberal.

In my own Facebook feed, I noticed both responses. One friend in the latter camp, where I also reside, confessed to a guilty conscience about any happiness experienced as the result of a person’s death.

By then, though, we had seen the statement by the Majority Leader of the United States Senate, declaring in the hours after Scalia’s death was announced that the Senate wouldn’t act on any nomination by the current President. That President quickly insisted that he would certainly make a nomination and expect the Senate to act upon it.

I suspect that both Sen. McConnell and President Obama began their statements with words of sadness and sympathy. Still, none can blame the media for leading with their sensational statements about the recently-deceased’s replacement on the Court.

I was appalled. Not at the press but at our national leaders.

When a person dies, Judaism teaches that our obligation is kavod ha-met, honoring the deceased. That priority is so important that we are forbidden even turn to nichum aveilim, comforting the mourners, until after burial. Turning so quickly to discussion of a successor justice, Sen. McConnell immediately changed the national conversation away from kavod ha-met to mundane and political matters. President Obama piled on.

Surely, neither Sen. McConnell or President Obama wished to dishonor Justice Scalia, a”h. Each would argue that his position best honors the deceased Justice — McConnell, by striving for a replacement who would fit Scalia’s own mold; and Obama, by arguing for a process that would adhere to the Constitution that Scalia defended.

Both men failed in a way that’s increasingly common in our modern world, giving in to an urge to act instantly.

I am often guilty: jumping to the phone when I hear that “ding” or feel the vibration, even if it’s just my turn in “Words with Friends.” At the same time, by studying and practicing Mussar, I have learned not to respond instantly when I receive a text or email that I initially deem irritating. Frequently, the simple act of waiting an hour softens my view of the communication I’ve received. At the very least, waiting changes the tone or medium of my response for the better.

How much healthier would we be as a nation, and how much more fittingly would Justice Scalia have been honored in the days after his death, had Sen. McConnell paid tribute to the newly-deceased Justice’s memory, declining to discuss any possible confirmation process until after a nomination were made? How much healthier would we be as a nation, and how much greater the honor to Justice Scalia, a”h, had the President declined to engage Sen. McConnell’s remarks until after the Justice’s funeral. As one who hopes for the confirmation of a successor justice nominated by President Obama, and who agrees with his constitutional argument on the point, I believe he would have carried the day by pointedly refusing to descend into public political discourse about any nomination until after Justice Scalia’s funeral, and certainly not in the hours after his death.

My Mussar teacher, Alan Morinis, reminds us that “sevel,” suffering, and “savlanut,” patience, are formed from the same Hebrew root. Perhaps the Senator would’ve had to struggle mightily, even suffering, to suppress the urge to make his point instantly. Maybe President Obama would’ve been pained by not joining a battle that has been initiated. Each has a “base” that expects no less than instant, repeated, hyper-partisan reaction to every event.

Similarly, we may be uncomfortable sitting with that provocative text or email, but we must suffer patiently in order to reduce the suffering we will cause ourselves and others with the instant, caustic response.

Now, because the Senator and the President lacked patience, the nation suffers.

—

Rabbi Barry Block serves Congregation B’nai Israel in Little Rock, Arkansas.  Rabbi Block chairs the CCAR Resolutions Committee.

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.

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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

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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.