Thursday, April 5, 2012

Blogging the Exodus: Questions

Questions are what we as Jews are all about (and what this blog is about, fundamentally). That's what I reminded the kids of last night at the model seder. And Reform Judaism, as David Aaron, liked to remind us, is rooted in ambiguity and questioning. 


That's why I'm sharing this blog article by Rabbi Danny Allen of ARZA. As we pray at the end of the Seder to next year be in Jerusalem, the line becomes increasingly poignant, as we in the Jewish world struggle with Israel's existential challenges, both internal and external. Perhaps these questions will lead all of us to greater understanding and connection--and ultimately commitment. 


Thank you Rabbi Allen for your thoughtfulness. 

Israel and Zionism should be at the core of our Passover observance. The Exodus from Egypt had a goal not just of freedom for the Jewish People but a return to our own land, our own sovereignty, and our own Jewish ways of living. We are required to make the story meaningful for every generation; hence we should be asking four important questions about Israel and considering four kinds of Zionists. 
All countries have governments, borders, neighbors, culture, language(s), economies, their own internal politics, and legitimacy within the family of nations. Why is Israel the only country whose legitimacy as a sovereign state is challenged in so many ways by so many people? 
On all other nights we may think of places all around the world we would like to visit. Why on this night do we say only “Next Year in Jerusalem?”
On all other nights we may consider the advantages or challenges of the country of our citizenship. Why on this night do we consider what makes Israel different from all other countries?
Most countries and societies need and welcome the voluntary sector in order to achieve their declared dreams. Israel’s Declarations of Independence challenges us all to “ensure complete equality of social and political rights to all its inhabitants irrespective of religion, race or sex; it will guarantee freedom of religion, conscience, language, education and culture; it will safeguard the Holy Places of all religions,” as well as to make peace with her neighbors. Why, on this night, are we not working more diligently to assist Israel in achieving its stated goals of equality for all her citizens, to build a more inclusive democratic society and peace with all her neighbors?
Questions are answered by individuals with a point of view and a particular perspective.  
Questions about Israel are often answered by four kinds of Zionists. 
The activitist Zionist – what does he/she say in response to these questions?
He/she first analyzes the questions, thinks through all the historical perspectives, centers the answer based where one fits within Zionist ideology, and then decides on strategy and tactics including which organization is best equipped to handle the response. While all of this activity is important and needs to be supported, sometimes what is needed is a simple answer, one that is the essence of one’s being. 
On April 1, 1933, the Jewish Review of Berlin, a Zionist newspaper, editorialized about what should be the response to the new Nazi law requiring Jews to wear a yellow star which was meant to mark Jews as illegitimate: The Jewish (Zionist) answer must be that briefest of sentences Moses spoke to the Egyptian (when his legitimacy was challenged): Ivri Anochi. I am a Jew. 
Wherever we fall on the broad Zionist spectrum, we are all Jews in the big tent of supporting Israel.
The disillusioned Zionist – what does she/he say?
Why is Israel really important anymore? She has not lived up to my dreams, to what I learned in summer camp, to the very ideals upon which the state was founded. I have worked for years and still Israel has so many problems, peace has not yet been achieved and I am tired of the struggle. 
To this person you should answer from Pirkei Avot: “You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to desist from it (2:21).” In a brief 64 years Israel has brought home millions of Jews, created a vibrant country, defended itself from military and terrorist threats, and contributed positively to the world. Rededicate yourself to the Israel with the spirit of the summer movement for social change; “The people demand a just society”. 

The nominal Zionist, the “Jew in the pew” — what does he/she say?
What’s all the fuss about? I live a comfortable Jewish life here in America and Israel does not really affect my life. 

Then you should remind this person that American attitudes toward Jews changed for the better after the 1967 Six-Day War when the world saw Jews who had reclaimed Jewish destiny in Jewish hands; that the technology for the cellphone they use was created in Israel; that Israel has painfully made peace with its two largest neighbors and is committed to a two-state solution: a Jewish State of Israel and a Palestinian state for the Palestinians living side by side in peace, which, when it happens, will further peace for everyone in the world; and that it is Israel that stands at the cutting edge of defending the West against terrorism and fanaticism. 
The not-yet Zionist, the one who does not know about Israel, the success of the national liberation project of the Jewish people, the good that Israel has brought to the world, and the amazing story of a people repatriated, a land reclaimed and a language renewed: For this person you shall begin with the words of God to Abraham:
Go forth from your native land and from your father’s house to the land (Israel) that I will show you and I will make you a great nation, and I will bless you… and all the families of the earth shall be blessed in you.
In answer to all the questions and in response to all the kinds of Zionists we are reminded of what Chaim Weitzmann, the first president of Israel, once said: A nation does not receive a state on a silver platter.

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Added a new blog to my blogroll

Go check out Alan Cook's Cookie Crumbs (check the blog roll). That is all...

Blogging the Exodus, the right day! Numbers and counting

So I posted this to Facebook already and it's been around pretty quickly, but this week Newsweek/Daily Beast posted their Top 50 Rabbis for 2012. Aside from Final Four bracket jokes and being "number 51 again" etc., it's interesting that it comes out at this time of year, when we as a people are so focused on numbers: counting plagues, times to say 'dayeinu', the various number games of the Haggadah, and of course the counting of the Omer, beginning Saturday night and running until Shavuot, the holiday celebrating the Barley Harvest and the giving of the Torah.

I first noticed the list a couple of years ago. At first, it was a nice way to celebrate some colleagues' achievements. And it seemed like a good bit of American fun (we have so many top 10 lists, thank you Casey Kasem and David Letterman). Now I worry about it. Not too much, but enough to raise an eyebrow. Is it an ego thing now? Is it meaningful? I suspect most of the people on the list don't have time to process that they're on the list, they're just knuckling down and doing the work that many of us do in our own congregations (just not quite at that scale). And I suspect it's not worth wringing our hands too much, except that it does help us ask the question: what does it mean to be a 'good' or 'successful' rabbi? I know many colleagues that struggle to figure out what the right 'metrics' are for evaluation: is it about bringing in new members (or retaining members)? Raising money? Running successful programs? Preaching meaningful sermons? Taking risks? Bringing kavod to the congregation? All of the above?

Which leads me to this article posted by my friend Ilan (who's blog is on my blogroll...somewhere. Dude, update man!). The article from the United Methodist Portal, is on how to better evaluate church performance, and the parallels are there for us. While we focus easily on numerical growth (and drive a lot of what we do in our congregations toward that, for obvious reasons) he asks a simple but incisive question: what would happen if we evaluated our congregations (and rabbis) based on how we provided opportunities for spiritual growth, for opportunities to connect with the sacred? In other words: did we offer enough Torah? Enough music? Enough davening? Classes to help people develop their spiritual practice--meditation, kabbalah, worship, dance? Did we organize around compassion and justice?

Looking back at the list, it seems to me that many of these individuals were focused on exactly that. Not gimmicks, not 'better marketing', not programs for their own sake, or to bring people together for 'mere' socialization, but with sacred purpose. After all is said and done, is the secret 'sauce' ma really just be authentic encounters with God and each other. In which case, we in congregational life should find more opportunities to be communities of intention, rather than 'merely' count heads.

Blogging the Exodus: Day 8 (out of order): Faith--in God and Each other


Today at the JCC fitness center I overheard a couple of people talking when one said to the other, “well, God made you different, huh.” I thought to myself, indeed, God made us all different! There’s a wonderful midrash (yes, I think of midrashim at the gym. Be glad you’re not me) that compares God to a king. While a king puts his image on coins and they all look the same, God puts the divine image on all of us, and we’re all profoundly different from one another.

It is through those differences that we find meaning, for different perspectives and experiences challenge us to be more creative, more thoughtful, more compassionate. Because I don’t know what it means to suffer in homelessness, I cannot naturally sympathize. But I am forced—obligated—to recognize my lack of experience and say to the other, ‘how can I help’. So it is in the study of Torah: the tradition is to study in pairs, with both individuals defending their interpretation of the text as vigorously as possible—often as energetically as possible (we Jews do like to argue)—but always remembering that we are both created in the image of the living God. And so it is with prayer. There is a reason we pray with a quorum of 10; the ideal is not for the service to be performed at the front of the room to an attentive (or inattentive) audience, but rather a polyphony of voices—all different, all engaging with and responding to the liturgy differently, all singing the same words.

The question, to paraphrase Harold Kushner from his presentation at the CCAR conference, is not to convince ourselves that we believe in God, to be so assured of our answer that questions, challenges, diversity all become meaningless. Rather the question is: how do we recognize when we encounter God? And to quote Rabbi Kushner further:

When you are forgiven, you have the experience of encountering God who Forgives.

When you couldn’t do something and then you can, that is encountering God who allows us to grow.

That first day when you’re not sick after being sick, encountering God who is rofei cholei yisrael: the healer of Israel.

When we take on a challenge: discovering how strong you are. God is Hanotain l’yaef koach: who gives strength to the weak.

And when we encounter one another and challenge each other respectfully, God is she’asani betzelem Elohim: the one who creates me—and all of us with our myriad differences and experiences and abilities—in the image of God. May it be so, as we receive the Torah, as we affirm our confirmands, as we move forward. Amen.


Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Blogging the Exodus: Plagues

After a crater erupts, volcanic ash may blacken
the sky and make the sunsets lurid for months; 

There are eclipses of the sun, the stinging
darkness of dust storms, and the totality of
blackout.

All of these remind us of the Egyptian darkness,
so thick it could be tasted and felt.

Could the children of Israel, rebellious and 
frightened slaves, have lit their homes with
the symbolic light of faith or good deeds? 

Perhaps they cherished a glimmering hope
that man could achieve greatness on earth,
rather than in the pyramids of the dead. 

Perhaps they blew on the spark of their hope
that Israel, the lowliest of peoples,
might achieve freedom. 

In the thick darkness of the Egyptian night
they could not foresee how often the nations
would shoulder them out into the shadow,

How often their freedom would be reduced
to a flicker, burning for a moment
after the oil is gone. 

We pray God renew this miracle for us: 
that in the darkness of our age, in blackout
and rejection, in fear and ignorance,
He will cause a light to burn for us,

A light of learning, a light of freedom, 
a light of faith, a light of good deeds. 
These are the lights we pray will burn together
to make a bright blaze of hope for mankind. 
--Ruth Brin, from Interpretations. 

Monday, April 2, 2012

Blogging the Exodus Day 10: Greenery





Another pic for this one! Or in this case, a set of pics. Specifically, pictures my son took while we walked the dog around the neighborhood. Interesting to see things from his vantage; his height, what he thinks is important (he's also pretty good with a digital camera for a 4-year old). How do you see things differently?

Sunday, April 1, 2012

Blogging the Exodus Day 9: Spring

Yes, I skipped Day 8 (Faith and Strength): just didn't get around to blogging on Shabbat (funny that). I'll circle around to it, probably on Day 14.

In the meantime, Spring.