Reform Judaism

D'var Torah: The Real American Idol

2009-03-09T03:10:06Z

by Irwin A. Zeplowitz
(Originally published in Ten Minutes of Torah and Reform Voices of Torah)
The popular television show American Idol seeks the most talented singers, hoping to promote each one as the next "superstar."There is a lot that is positive about American Idol. It is founded on the belief that there is the potential for great talent in anyone. The show allows "ordinary people"a chance they might not otherwise have to achieve the most they can in life. The success of the show has transformed the term "idol"from its original connotation of something false and deviant into something positive. Then again, perhaps the trivialization of the term "idol"is a hint to the shallowness of what popular culture truly values. The ultimate goal of American Idol, of course,is not simply to showcase talent, but to have the winner get "a major recording contract". In this, the real purpose is revealed--not fame, but fortune; not glamour, but gold.

The dramatic story of eigel hazahav, the "Golden Calf,"is at the center of this week's parashah, Ki Tisa. Commentators debate what it is that the people truly yearn for when they say to Aaron, "Come, make us a god"(elohim, literally "gods"[Exodus 32:1]). Rashi indicates that the people seek a pantheon of gods as a substitute for God. Many argue that the people are afraid because Moses has not returned from the mountain, so they want a "new Moses"(Ramban on 32:1), "someone to go before them"(Ibn Ezra on 32:1) as a leader. Others suggest that the "Israelites are demanding a god, rather than the God,"hinting that any diversion from the people's fears of abandonment is as comforting as any other (The Torah: A Women's Commentary, ed. Tamara Cohn Eshkenazi and Andrea L. Weiss [New York: URJ Press, 2008], p. 502).

Torah clearly forbids the making of idols (Exodus 20:4-5; Deuteronomy 5:8-9), so anything the people made would have been a transgression. But is there something more at work here, alluded to by the nature of the material with which eigel hazahav is made, the method by which it comes to be, and what happens to it afterwards?

The idol is made from gold--the material used as the measure of wealth for most of human history. While there are other precious metals and commodities, gold has long been symbolic of wealth. There is, in Jewish thought, nothing wrong with the making of money. "Rabbi Yishmael said, 'One who wishes to acquire wisdom should study the way that money works, for there is no greater area of Torah study than this. It is like an ever-flowing stream'"(Babylonian Talmud, Bava Batra 175b). Emblematic of the fact that there is nothing inherently wrong with wealth is that the Ark of the Covenant is itself covered with gold "inside and out"(Exodus 25:11).

The issue is not the material used to build eigel hazahav, therefore, but how this material is used. The calf, like all idols, is false because it represents only a part of the whole and, more importantly, because it is seen as the source of greatest authority. The people of Israel had left Egypt, but they had not distanced themselves from a worship of the material plentitude they saw around them. Even as Moses ascends the spiritual heights, the masses return to a tangible, material "thing,"assuming that this work--the literal representation of their shared wealth--is the true source of blessing.

The method of its construction reveals a second problem--that of communal culpability. Five hundred years ago, Don Isaac Abravanel asked, "Why did God tell Moses, 'Your people . . . have made a golden calf' (Exodus 32:7-8), when it was really Aaron who made it?"(Abravanel on Ki Tisa 31:18, question 4). The answer is that while Aaron bore primary responsibility for the casting of the statue, the people as a whole gave him the authority to act on their behalf. Though a number of traditional commentators argue that only a small percentage of the people were involved (see, for example, Rashi and Ramban on Exodus 32:7), they miss the clear understanding of the text that the gold comes from "all the people"(Exodus 32:3). This is more than tacit acceptance of what their leader is doing. They endorse what they have done by saying, "This is your god"(Exodus 32:4). The text underscores the focus on materialism by noting that the people began "to eat and drink, and then rose to dance [l'tzacheik, literally 'to play']"(Exodus 32:6). Then, as in every age, wealth led to an overindulging of desire.

After Moses rebukes the people for turning from God, he grinds the idol into a powder, sprinkles it over water, and has the people drink it (Exodus 32:20). In this, Moses seems to be teaching the people that the real problem of idolatry begins inside of us. After they were berated, the people might have been tempted to blame Aaron. Moses does not allow for such an easy deflection of personal responsibility. This act is a powerful, physical lesson that the idol is merely a symbol. The real idol is the internal desire--and it can be eliminated only by, quite literally, flushing this false god of materialism out of their system.

We are in the midst of a time of great financial challenge, facing a reduction of wealth not seen in generations. Though incredibly painful, such a moment challenges us to reflect on what it is that we have valued. Surely the greed and deception of some has led to greater pain. But just as the people of Israel all gave in to the worship of gold, so, in recent years, did we as a society lose perspective. The time to "play"has come to an end, and while we can blame others, we must not shirk our own sense of having placed too great a store in the accumulation of "things."

The transgression of the Golden Calf is not the pursuit of money and acquisition of things per se. We turn from the truth of Sinai, however, when the measure of our worth is based in what we possess, and a day of reckoning inevitably comes. As Rambam taught, "Let the wealthy not revel in their wealth . . . but one should glory in knowing and understanding God . . . (so as) to act with mercy, justice, and righteousness"(Guide to the Perplexed 3:54, quoting Jeremiah 9:22-23).

Rabbi Irwin A. Zeplowitz is the senior rabbi at The Community Synagogue in Port Washington, New York. He has taught at Kolel: The Adult Centre for Liberal Jewish Learning in Toronto, JLearn on Long Island, and the URJ Kallah. He is immediate past president of the Alumni Association of Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion and was chair of the Joint Commission on Sustaining Rabbinic Education. He can be reached at rabbiz@commsyn.org.

D'var Acher: Engaging in Righteous Killing

2009-03-09T03:05:35Z

by Barry Cohen
(Originally published in Ten Minutes of Torah and Reform Voice of Torah)
Something has always bothered me about this week's Torah portion: to regain control of the rebellious mob dancing around the Golden Calf, we engage in "righteous killing."Moses exclaims, "Whoever is for the Eternal, come here!"(Exodus 32:26). He proceeds to give instructions to the tribe of Levi to "slay sibling, neighbor, and kin"(Exodus 32:27).

On a smaller scale, such "righteous killing"had happened before, after the rape of Dinah (Genesis 33:18-34:31). Simeon and Levi massacred the perpetrators and their families. Many years later at Sinai, we kill three thousand of our own (Exodus 32:28). Arguably, if this did not happen, the story of our people could have ended in the wilderness.

What's God's response to the bloodletting? Killing even in the name of God requires a purification period; what had to be done had to be done, but there is a price. After the chaos is controlled, Moses tells God, "Now, if You will forgive their sin [well and good]; but if not, erase me from the record which You have written!"(Exodus 32:32). (Let's assume that "their sin"refers to those who killed to control the chaotic mixed multitude.)

Have you seen the movie Taken? In it, a former spy is forced to engage in righteous killing when his daughter is kidnapped overseas to become a sex slave.

I have four-year-old twins, a boy and a girl. As the movie progressed, I began to wonder what I would be willing to do to save my family. Could I engage in righteous killing? Could I even take the life of my extended family or neighbors if they stood in my way?

We can be moralistic and claim to know what "God"demands of us. But when we are forced to protect the good and welfare of our closest kin, what are we willing to become? In the aftermath, will we too seek purification for what we have done? Would we even have the chutzpah of Moses to demand forgiveness for engaging in "righteous killing"?

I wonder.

Rabbi Barry Cohen serves Temple B'nai Israel in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma.

On Gaza, Sense and Centrism

2009-01-01T07:11:56Z

By Rabbi Eric Yoffie
First published in The Forward
Wars sicken me, even wars that I support. I support Israel's offensive in Gaza, but watching it on TV -- the images of bombed-out buildings, crying women and, inevitably, the bodies of innocent bystanders -- is a painful experience.

I suspect that most American Jews feel the same discomfort that I feel. They support the military offensive too, but they are well aware of the risks that it entails, and they expect Israel to be both politically wise and morally sensitive in how it fights. It is especially important to us that Israel do everything humanly possible to avoid the death of innocents and to prevent a humanitarian crisis in Gaza. There is much evidence that Israel has worked hard to limit the carnage, and the credibility of Israel's leaders in providing assurances on these points is an important factor in assuring the continued support of American Jews -- and, indeed, of all Americans -- for the Gaza campaign.

Of course, there are those in the Jewish community who champion the Gaza offensive with slogans of crude triumphalism. Martin Peretz, editor-in-chief of The New Republic, wrote on his blog that the message of this operation is "do not f-k with the Jews." It is interesting to compare the somber statements of Israel's leaders, who are fighting to protect their children, with the obscene, cowboy-like delight that Peretz seems to take in the damage Israel's army is able to inflict.

At the same time, if some Jewish hawks are devoid of sympathy for Palestinian suffering, not a few Jewish doves have demonstrated an utter lack of empathy for Israel's predicament. J Street, a new Washington lobbying group and a major voice of the dovish pro-Israel community, has spoken out sharply against Israel's actions in Gaza. While it claims to represent the moderate American Jewish majority, in this case it has misread the issues and misjudged the views of American Jews.

It is not easy for me to write these words. I welcomed the founding of J Street and know many of those involved in its leadership. Furthermore, I am a dove myself. I support a two-state solution, believe that military action by Israel should be a last resort and welcome an active American role in promoting peace between Israel and her neighbors. But I know a mistake when I see one, and this time J Street got it very wrong.

J Street's first statement expressed "understanding" for Israel's motivations, and called -- as I do -- for a political rather than a military solution to the Arab-Israeli conflict. Nonetheless, its conclusion was that Israel made a mistake in attacking Hamas and that the United States and others must press for an immediate cease-fire.

A second J Street statement was worse by far. It could find no moral difference between the actions of Hamas and other Palestinian militants, who have launched more than 5,000 rockets and mortar shells at Israeli civilians in the past three years, and the long-delayed response of Israel, which finally lost patience and responded to the pleas of its battered citizens in the south. "Neither Israelis nor Palestinians have a monopoly on right or wrong," it said, and it suggested that there was no reason and no way to judge between them: "While there is nothing 'right' in raining rockets on Israeli families or dispatching suicide bombers, there is nothing 'right' in punishing a million and a half already-suffering Gazans for the actions of the extremists among them."

These words are deeply distressing because they are morally deficient, profoundly out of touch with Jewish sentiment and also appallingly naïve. A cease-fire instituted by Hamas would be welcome, and Israel would be quick to respond. A cease-fire imposed on Israel would allow Hamas to escape the consequences of its actions yet again and would lead in short order to the renewal of its campaign of terror. Hamas, it should be noted, is not a government; it is a terrorist gang. And as long as the thugs of Hamas can act with impunity, no Israeli government of the right or the left will agree to a two-state solution or any other kind of peace. Doves take note: To be a dove of influence, you must be a realist, firm in your principles but shorn of all illusions.

As a reality check for my views, I did what I normally do in these circumstances: I checked with my closest Israeli friends, who are all left of center, haters of war and ferocious opponents of the West Bank settlement movement. In virtually every case, they saw the action in Gaza as tragic but necessary and were astounded by the opposition of American doves. "What did they think," one of them asked me in bewilderment, "that we would just sit there forever while Hamas fired rockets into our cities?" And they pointed out that most politicians on the left support the offensive, as do more than 80% of all Israelis, according to polling data.

I have not seen any polls on the reactions of American Jews, but my own sense, supported by anecdotal evidence from the Reform movement, is that there is strong backing for Israel's government. American Jews have a commonsense approach to these matters.

We are aware that American forces have gone halfway around the globe to engage in a war in Afghanistan against terrorists who once carried out an attack on American soil. We know that civilians have frequently died in that war because terrorists make a point of operating in civilian areas. We know too that this war has the support of our liberal president-elect.

So why, we ask, should Israel's center-left government, after long periods of restraint and desperate efforts to renew the cease-fire, be expected to refrain from fighting terrorists that are regularly attacking from right across the border? And we are certain that if rockets were being launched from Canada into our own homes in Michigan or Maine, we would demand immediate action, and our government would quickly oblige.

American Jews see Israel's Gaza offensive as a tragic necessity, unwelcome but inevitable, carried out by a reluctant Israeli government doing what it must to end rocket attacks against its citizenry. In short, American Jews are, as usual, sensible and centrist, and supporting Israel in her hour of need.

Rabbi Eric Yoffie is president of the Union for Reform Judaism.

A Bad Day at School

2008-10-25T00:06:09Z

By dcc
I have a cousin in his mid-80s who often reminds me that it was good for the Jews in Austria before Hitler. He was a scholar, his sister was a lawyer (yes a woman in the 1930s), their family was well connected in Vienna. I often remind him that the United States is not inter-war Europe and we know better now. He then waves his hand at me and calls me naive. On days like today I think he might be right.

Reading the award-winning Dallas Morning News Religion Blog I found this gem of a post. A group of children in Suburban St. Louis, as part of the officially sanctioned school "Spirit Week" comprised of "High Five Day" and "Hug a Friend Day," choose to celebrate "Hit a Jew Day" as just one more way to be true to their school.

What upsets me the most are the students who knew of the day's activities but said nothing to their teachers. We all know German Lutheran pastor Friedrich Gustav Emil Martin Niemoller's truism, but this isn't about being charted off into gas chambers. This is about the destruction of our humanity and social fabric, the penultimate step towards burning books.

Our public schools in the United States have long been the place were people who look, act, eat and believe differently come together to learn about our social responsibility, about the best way to move forward and make a better life. Schools are the incubators of the American Dream. However when a school allows for something like this to take place, we lose the ability to provide a safe and nurturing environment for all our children. We are all responsible for our next generation. Just as our tradition teaches Kol Israel Arevim Ze Laze, All of Israel are Responsible for One Another, we too are all responsible for our fellow citizens. We must take more responsibility to make our schools vehicles of learning and progress for our children.

While I am sure this is an isolated event, I bet my cousin would say I am just being naive.

Lashon Tova

2008-10-20T23:26:53Z

By Larry Kaufman
A recent discussion in these precincts about Lashon Hara, intended to present a Jewish "take" on permissible and impermissible political discourse, gave rise to a peripheral discussion about the propriety of using words and phrases from languages other than English.

That article provided a literal translation of lashon hara as "the bad tongue," and provided as English explanations defamation, character assassination, or 'bad mouthing." The subsequent discussion suggested another meaning, malicious gossip.

As a relatively new entity, this blog had not previously articulated any "rules of the road," but the discussion provoked messages from the blog managers at the Union for Reform Judaism reminding bloggers the Union is not and cannot be in the business of endorsing or supporting candidates, and that the blog exists to look at the world through a lens of Reform Judaism. I propose an additional rule - we should follow the minhag (custom) that prevails on the Union list-servs, and translate expressions from languages other than English.

We RJ bloggers who use Hebrew terms have already been following that practice, with the tacit understanding that it's kosher to assume our readers have a basic vocabulary in the language of the synagogue - Shabbat, kiddush, kaddish, et al. (Et al is the Latin abbreviation for and others.) Supplying translations is a courtesy that is not typically extended in secular writing when a foreign-language term is used. Note, too, that in the context of this blog devoted to Reform Judaism, I do not consider or refer to Hebrew as a foreign language - it is the universal language of Judaism that binds English-speaking, Yiddish-speaking, Spanish-speaking, Ladino-speaking and other-speaking Jews, across time as well as space. They even used it in Pittsburgh in 1885!

Educated readers recognize that the purpose of any writer is to communicate, and the writer's choice of any word or phrase that may not be universally familiar is nonetheless purposeful. Most frequently, when the term is not English, it's been selected because there is no precise English equivalent, and because the writer pays his readers two compliment s: first, assuming they can cope with le mot juste, or as we might say in Hebrew, lashon tova, good language; second, assuming they are reading in order to expand their knowledge and broaden their horizons.

Lashon tova, good language, recognizes that language is both dynamic and complex. All languages are comprised not just of words, but also of idioms, figures of speech, and grammatical conventions. Prescriptive grammar is the province of Miss Nelson, your eighth grade teacher who told you not to end a sentence with a preposition, leading to the famous rejoinder, "This is the kind of arrant pedantry up with which I will not put." Descriptive grammar, as they taught us at the University of Chicago, is a reflection of the way the language is used by the educated leaders of society. Your use of language tells people who you are, in more ways than one.

I make no bones about admitting that I am NOT Joe Six-Pack (although I was once a hockey dad and am now a hockey granddad). As a Reform Jew, I am heir to the privileges of the Enlightenment, which includes the privilege of living in two worlds. I did not have to forsake my Jewish heritage to claim my share in the culture of Western civilization. I am proud to have been educated at a prestigious university, where I learned about nuances, distinctions, and precise communication. When I use a Hebrew term, or for that matter a Yiddish term, I am not only communicating my verbal message more precisely, but also the additional symbolic message to my reader or auditor that we are members of the same club.

When I'm talking to my club members, they know I mean something different if I talk about davening than if I talk about praying. While "praying" might be used as a translation for davening, "reciting sotto voce the prayers printed in the siddur" is more precise. If we address the Divine using our own thoughts and our own words, whether silently or not, we are surely praying, but we are not davening. And when we pray in gratitude for the food we have just eaten, we aren't davening, we're bentshing. (As I remember the Maxwell House Haggadah of my youth, it rendered Rabotai nevorech as Gentlemen, let us say grace.)

As I write, we are approaching Shemini Atzeret-Simchat Torah, and if you read this before the holiday is over, I wish you chag sameach, a happy holiday, or, if you prefer, gut yomtov. But for the past week, my greeting has been moadim l'simchah, the conventional although less well-known salutation for the intermediate days of the two Festivals that have intermediate days, Sukkot and Passover (Pesach). (Among cognoscenti, we could refer to the intermediate days as chol ha'moed, the ordinary or non-sacred days of the fixed occasion.) Is this distinction between sacred and non-sacred days really necessary? Why not simply say Happy Holiday and be done with it? All we lose is precision, recognizing, respecting, and perhaps teaching the difference between kodesh and chol, holy and ordinary. Will the scoffer who dismisses the distinction between chag sameach and moadim l'simchah turn around and wish his Christian neighbor a happy Christmas and a merry New Year?

Yes, we have to know our audience before we use foreign language terms without explaining them. My friend Alan, the English professor, tells about finding references in several term papers one semester to the fantasy echo. Not having the slightest idea what the fantasy echo was, he questioned one of his students, who cited one of Alan's lectures as the source for the term. Turns out in discussing late Victorian literature, he had used the French fin de siècle (end of the century) and the students had done their best with it!

Whether we're using English or some other tongue, language is not static. A word may take on a new meaning in a limited milieu, and the new meaning may spread, sometimes in the process rendering the earlier meaning obsolete. In my 1953 Webster's Collegiate Dictionary, gay only means merry. Somewhere along the line, it became an insider code word for male homosexual, and by 1981, the code definition had made its way into the dictionary as the fourth among several mainstream definitions. Today the idea of merriment seems to have been totally lost.

Speaking of in-group code words, as a Facebook newbie, I'm learning the difference between friends and Friends. A Friend is someone who has agreed to allow messaging between your Facebook page and his or hers. I have Facebook friends whom I wouldn't know if they bumped into me on Michigan Avenue. But Facebook always notifies me when one of my Friends acquires a new Friend. Thus I was delighted to read recently that Susie Ginsburg and Aaron Ginsburg (not their real names) are now Friends - delighted because Susie and Aaron have been married to one another for over thirty years. As my grandmother would have said of their Friendship, Sheyn tzeit, it's about time.

Just as Friends has a precise meaning on Facebook somewhat different from the street meaning of friend, so too Outreach has a precise meaning in the Reform movement different from its dictionary definition. Reform uses the term Outreach for activities and programs designed to welcome non-Jews into our congregational families. As a verb, outreach means extending your arm farther than the other guy. As a noun, the term might be applied in other religious circles for pursuing the unaffiliated, or seeking to extend geographic coverage, or for bringing members from the fringe into the inner circle. One of my listserv colleagues recently asked about using outreach to refer to establishing dialogues with other faith communities, instead of the established jargon, Interfaith. He was seeking precision, reserving "interfaith" for marriages between a Jew and a non-Jew. To my mind, interfaith still works in both contexts, and rather than precision, limiting the word gives us a distinction without a difference. But in the context of lashon tova, we reach out to Catholics or Muslims to get to know one another better - but reaching out is not Outreach, because the end point of Reform Outreach is bringing in.

As the presumptive coiner of the phrase Lashon tova (I don't recall having encountered it elsewhere), I can follow the Humpty-Dumpty precept - When I use a word, it means just what I choose it to mean, neither more nor less. As a second layer of meaning, superimposed on precision, I choose it to include using language benevolently. Even when I disagree with or challenge the positions taken here by those who blog and those who comment, I hope my words come across as lashon tova. And if anyone objects to my use of Hebrew, Yiddish, French or Latin in the process, honi soit qui mal y pense.

Control

2008-10-20T18:51:36Z

By dcc
Tamar Fox at Mixed Multitudes writes about Y-Love's finding that there are "activists" in the Brooklyn neighborhood of Williamsburg who are destroying advertisements because the food pictured in these billboards is "excessive and indulgent." These ultra-Orthodox food-pleasure police are defacing property of surrounding businesses because they think photographs of food that is just too tasty will distract people and lead them into a life of crime, mischief and non-Jewish activity. Stop me anytime now, but isn't vandalism criminal, mischievous and non-Jewish?

Outside of the somewhat backwards tactics of resistance, why can't the ultra-Orthodox practice restraint and control?

I suppose this gets at the core of my misunderstanding with a large segment of this particular part of our community. As a Reform Jew I must make choices every day about who I am, what I believe and what I will do to represent the Jewish community. A vast majority of the ultra-Orthodox community never makes a choice when it comes to these aspects of life. I have to control my impulses and desires every day. I must not steal from my neighbor, I need to conserve energy, I cannot forget my heritage and so on. Why then do these radical segments of society need to build up such ridiculous rules that make it impossible for individuals to be responsible for their own actions?

If a person is keeping kosher for any reason, let it be by choice or the feeling that they are commanded by God, why would a picture push them to not keep kosher? If a picture of food is too excessive or indulgent, wouldn't a pious, righteous Jew not partake in such food? Why must it be assumed that a woman is so sexually interesting that a man could not see her while praying and still be able to devout his energy to the prayer? I will respect the differences in opinion that say it is tradition to do such things, but if Judaism is a religion of actions (and inaction in some cases) why can't we be trusted to act (or not act)?

These culinary-control-czars not only make Judaism inaccessible to a vast majority of modern day Jews, they cause those within their own segment of the community to become numb to the idea of choice and responsibility.

Tzedek, tzedek tirdof: My Father's Legacy

2008-10-20T06:55:03Z

By Andi Rosenthal
My father Leo - may his memory be for blessing - had some definite ideas about justice. A 22-year veteran of Manhattan South Homicide, a detective first grade, and later in his second career, a tireless VP of Protective Control for Bank of New York, he spent a lifetime bringing people to justice, righting wrongs where he could, never afraid to stand up for what was right and see that the appropriate penalty was handed down. And he managed to do it all with tremendous style. Above all things he found a way to connect with people whether they were do-gooders or perps, always with an irrepressible grin and a twinkle in his eye. His way with people was a weapon far more powerful than the .44 he carried or the Glock he kept in the kitchen cabinet.

He cared about justice as much as he cared about his family, because he cared about families who had been touched by the damage that unchecked injustice can do. He never forgot a victim, never forgot a name, always made sure that he remembered that no matter what sort of evil or physical or emotional mutilation or destruction had occurred, that what he was bearing witness to was the human relationship of life-to-life in an ultimate transaction gone awry. He understood that all human beings contained the yetzer ha-tov and yetzer ha-ra - the good and evil impulse - in equal balance. But what he never let himself understand or accept was how people could justify their actions when they led to such a destructive end.

I saw him lose hours of sleep poring over the details of a case file, and come home in the early morning hours after a night spent in pursuit of a suspect. I remember the morning he came home after finally breaking the case of the murder at the Metropolitan Opera, when I was eleven years old. "We did it, Schnickelfritz," he whispered proudly as I padded down the stairs to greet him at our front door at five in the morning. And then, hurrying into the kitchen to grab a quick bagel with American cheese, he took the stairs two at a time to go up and change for the Commissioner's press conference. There was no mistaking it: justice realized energized him.

My dad understood that pursuing and obtaining justice was a team effort that required the cooperation of many discrete souls working towards one sacred goal. Fellow detectives. The officers who'd first responded, the coroner's office, the EMS teams, the crime scene technicians. The witnesses, the friends and family of the victim. And the random people you'd meet while following a lead, from the guy in the coffee shop or the mechanic or the bartender or the lady who lived next door to the crime scene. My dad could make a friend of all of them. You never knew who would give you what you needed to solve the case.

The toughest people he had to work with were the wrongdoers themselves. He hated the excuses, the lies, the rationalizations people gave him for doing the unspeakable - acting on their own selfish and destructive impulses, robbing people of their dignity, destroying the souls of the people left behind, turning a fellow human being into a victim, needlessly and recklessly abusing the ultimate power of G-d - ending a life -- and taking that power into their own hands. He could pretend a friendship with a criminal for the sake of getting what he wanted out of them - a confession of wrongdoing and if he was lucky, a willingness to accept responsibility for what they did. He was a big fan of the allocution process, when a person has to stand up in court and tell, for the record, what they did, in an unvarnished and factual statement. No justifications, no embellishments, no embroidering of the facts to manipulate the listener.

There were so many other people that my dad encountered during the course of an investigation - objective people, people with no investment in the outcome - who could tell the truth in a way that made it easy to see when someone else was lying. Not only did he work with the best in the business, but years of gathering honest testimony and witness statements made him absolutely pitch-perfect when it came to detecting the body language, tone of voice, and other characteristics of the liar. As a daughter, naturally, I got away with very little. To this day, I still believe that anyone who underestimates the ability of a New York City homicide detective to see through a lie is kidding themselves.

I've inherited some of his intolerance for injustice. Like my father, I do not suffer fools gladly. I do wish I had his way with people, but I am also too much my mother's stubborn and straightforward child to listen to lies and rationalizations with a smile, however insincere, on my face. I have very strong - perhaps too strong -- feelings about those whose deepest impulses drive them to hurt others, and then attempt to justify, rationalize and worst of all, cover up their actions.

To this end, the first Torah portion I ever learned how to chant, Shoftim, reflects this. Shoftim is the Hebrew word for judges, and the famous phrase above, Justice, justice you shall pursue, is at the heart of the parsha's text.

The double justice we see in the text isn't there by accident. The way my dad, I think, would interpret it is that every crime has two stories: the truth of what really happened and then recognizing that vigilance is required to ensure that those facts are not in any way altered to gain sympathy or to rationalize the hurt that was caused to the victim. In my dad's view, the phrase, "I didn't mean for it to happen" was irrelevant. It happened, and nothing could undo those actions. The honorable thing to do is to accept responsibility, remember your actions and learn from them. Making an effort to change the story, or cover it up, or erase it was as much of an injustice as the crime in the first place.

For my dad, the pursuit of justice was as much about preserving the factual, ethical memory of wrongdoing as it was about making the bad guys accountable for their crimes. In Judaism, memory is the cornerstone of justice: remembering what was done to us to that we can learn from it and become better people. "May this memory be erased" is about the worst thing you can ever do or say - every person, every thing deserves to be remembered, both for good and for bad. We can't erase our actions, but we can take what we need to learn from them and move on. Without justification, without rationalization -- but with the hard-won wisdom we needed to gain from the experience.

Silence is not a Jewish value, nor should it be a human ethic. Because when the voice of the victim is silenced, and the injustice of that silence is followed by the memory of a crime being altered or erased, the opportunity to learn and grow vanishes with it.

When my father passed away three years ago, a friend suggested to me that as a way of finding comfort, I should choose a Torah portion or prayer moment to remember him by. While Shoftim was certainly the obvious choice, there is also a liturgical stronghold that has become a way for me to pay tribute to my father every Shabbat. During the second prayer of the Amidah, as we recognize the Holy One as one who "keeps faith with those who sleep in the dust," I shift my prayer book in my arms so that I can touch my left hand - my dad was a lefty - to my heart.

My dad's life was about keeping faith with those whose lives were shattered into dust, those who met with their final sleep too soon. He may not have been the most observant or exemplary Jew who ever lived. But his legacy is justice and remembrance, and the knowledge that lives in the world as a result of the ongoing struggle that we continue to face: ensuring that the truth of injustice is ever brought to light. As in the words of St. Thomas More: "In the things of the soul, remembrance without knowledge profits little."

Lashon Hara and Elections

2008-10-13T18:36:32Z

By William Berskon
The last few days have dramatized the gravity of the sin of lashon hara, literally "the bad tongue." Known in English as defamation, character assassination, or in slang 'bad mouthing,' lashon hara is part of the vidui, the confession at Yom Kippur which we have all just said. It has traditionally been seen as one of the most common, yet also most serious of sins.

It is a frustration to me that public discourse in America has lacked this concept: that it is wrong to say something bad about another person, even if true, without a compelling reason. Such compelling reasons include testimony at a trial, preventing serious harm to others from a bad actor, and self-defense against lashon hara.

One special frustration has been to see the systematic lashon hara as a tactic in political campaigns. Now to some extent, lashon hara is permitted, because the character and judgment of those running for public office is a legitimate issue. But it is all the more important not to overdo it. Why is it so important? Because one of the competitor are going to be elected, and can't govern effectively without public trust. And there has been a big drop-off in public trust of government, ever since the Watergate scandal, and subsequent scandals, such as Iran Contra and the Clinton impeachment.

What is impermissible lashon hara in a campaign? One important consideration is that what is said should be true, particularly if it is personal rather than on policy. A second consideration is the importance of not appealing to fear and anger, particularly by dividing people and labeling the other person as the enemy. This appeal to fear, anger and prejudice is usually called 'demagoguery.'

I have been particularly concerned by Governor Palin's innovation of lashon hara with a beautiful smile, of joyful demagoguery. Two examples have to me been particularly clear; the first is from her acceptance speech:

"In politics, there are some candidates who use change to promote their careers. And then there are those, like John McCain, who use their careers to promote change."

And from a recent speech in Englewood, Colorado:

"Our opponent though, is someone who sees America, it seems, as being so imperfect that he's palling around with terrorists who would target their own country."

The first quote is character assassination that can have no basis in fact. It is just an assertion that our ambition comes from pure motives, whereas the opponent's ambitions come from dishonorable ones. Such "pure" lashon hara really has no excuse.

The second is deceitful, and so impermissible, and an appeal to fear and anger, a labeling of the opposition as "other" and so dangerous incitement. As to the facts, all the mainstream media have said that Ayers hasn't been a terrorist for forty years, has become a productive citizen, and has never been close to Obama. Again, insinuation of evil motives--"sees the country as so imperfect"--is pure malice.

This incitement has given such encouragement to violent statements in Republican rallies that McCain, to his great credit, has condemned them and affirmed the decency of Obama. But at the same time he has been complicit in the demagogic statements, and I fear that lasting damage has been done.

Learning from youth

2008-10-11T01:38:31Z

By Gardening Grandma
A story in this morning's New York Times about the growing army of "eco-kids" not only grabbed my attention, it made me proud: "Pint-Size Eco-Police, Making Parents Proud and Sometimes Crazy" highlights how children are teaching their parents a lesson or two about caring for this earth, sometimes to the frustration of their parents.

While Judaism was not mentioned in the story, nothing could be closer to our hearts than protecting the earth and working to repair the damage we've created. As today's emailed Ten Minutes of Torah by Rabbi Marla Feldman notes, "to neglect our role in maintaining the fragile balance of nature is to default on our very first commitment in our covenant with God - our sacred duty to be stewards of God's Creation." She goes on to note that Sukkot is a perfect time to reinforce our connection to the natural world around us.

For more ideas about what to do this Sukkot, check out www.urj.org.

Strengthening Reform 16: Ethical and Ritual Mitzvot

2008-10-07T00:40:35Z

By William Berkson
In the previous post in this series, I sketched the history of Reform treatment of Mitzvot, concluding with Rabbi Richard Levy's A Vision of Holiness: The Future of Reform Judaism (URJ, 2005). In this book Rabbi Levy, who led the 1999 "Pittsburgh Principles" effort, rejects the traditional Reform distinction in the status of ethical and ritual mitzvot.

As I wrote, I think the abolition of this distinction is a spectacularly bad idea.

Ethical mitzvot even traditionally have priority over ritual practices, in my view and I believe in the view of many past Reform thinkers. However, traditionally ritual practices are indeed also mitzvot, commanded by God to the Jewish people. Classical Reform denied this 'commanded' status of ritual commitments, and said that rituals were to be chosen on the basis of whether they are spiritually elevating. Rituals were to be judged how well they serve us, rather than being seen as the way God demanded at Sinai to be served by us in return for his special protection of us.

To understand Rabbi Levy's new Reform view of mitzvot, it is important to recognize that he doesn't regard them as having the same force as either in Jewish tradition or in Classical Reform. In both, ethical mitzvot are unequivocal commandments from God about how we should behave. Rabbi Levy suggests that we instead we understand a mitzvah not as "'I command you,' but 'this is something very important to Me that you do.' The wisdom of this formulation is that reflects the covenantal aspect of the relationship between God and the Jewish people, rather than an authoritarian one." (p. 50)

But even in traditional Judaism ethical mitzvot are not simply products of the covenant between God and only the Jewish people. The Rabbis explored the Noahide laws, which are primarily ethical commandments, and which apply to non-Jews and Jews alike. And in medieval Jewish philosophy leading thinkers argued that ethical mitzvot are derivable from reason, and applicable to everyone. Only the 'revealed' mitzvot, religious practices, are commanded specifically to the Jewish people, and are binding on us because of our special covenant with God at Sinai, and not binding upon non-Jews.

It is important to understand that from its beginning Reform Judaism put all mitzvot on a different basis than Classical Judaism. For Classical Judaism the basis of the mitzvot is God's word as revealed in the text of the Torah and Talmud. Additional reasons for the mitzvot, ta'amei hamitzvot, were interesting supplementary insights, but the authority lay in the sacred text.

In contrast, Reform has not regarded the text as authoritative, and has looked as well to outside standards of truth: reason and empirical evidence. Philosophically, Reform made a fundamental change. We henceforth would judge religious issues not only by sacred texts but also by the sources of truth raised up by the Enlightenment. And scientific study as a new standard extended even to challenging the sacred texts, using "the science of Judaism"--Wissenschaft des Judentums. Thus, the reasons for the mitzvot, which traditionally were a topic of discussion and not a source of authority, in Reform moved to a central place fundamental sources of authority, along side the text, and sometimes above it.

Now the Reform leaders, through Herman Cohen (1842-1918), felt secure backed up by Kant's philosophy. Kant had seen science as based in "pure reason" and ethics as based in "practical reason", and had famously said, "Two things fill the mind with ever-increasing wonder and awe, the more often and the more intensely the mind of thought is drawn to them: the starry heavens above me and the moral law within me." Further, he argued that "God as a guarantor of morality" is a necessary postulate of "practical reason".

With this Kantian backing of "ethical monotheism", I think the leaders of Classical Reform were completely comfortable with the idea of God as the commander of morality to all humanity. But because of their universalist orientation, also following the Enlightenment, they were not comfortable with the idea that the particularistic customs of Judaism were commanded by God. So they looked instead to 'spiritual elevation' as the reason for the ritual customs, now no longer considered as mitzvot.

In reality, Kant's ethics don't in fact hold up under scrutiny; and community has proven to be more important than recognized by the European Enlightenment. The various 'platforms' of Reform during the 20th century have, I think, been an effort to go beyond the Kantian Classical Reform view, and to supply a new basis and vision for Reform. But it is evident to me that the culmination in the 1999 Principles, and especially in Rabbi Levy's book, that is a serious confusion, and not, contrary to the title of his book, a coherent "Vision".

Because for Levy all mitzvot are particularistic (part of the Jewish covenant with God), and we 'try them on' to see if we like them, the obligatory character of ethics is completely drained of any content. We can pray with tefillin on Tuesday, and not on Thursday, seeing whether the mitzvah of tefillin moves us as part of our "dialogue" with God. Even though I'm sure this is not Rabbi Levy's intention, the logical consequence of his view that ethical mitzvot are on the same (weak) basis is that this follows: it is OK for us on Tuesday to murder someone, and on Thursday to refrain from murder, and then see whether to follow that mitzvah or not.

A similar rebuttal of Rabbi Levy's view was given by David Wilenski here, in response to my previous post. And indeed Rabbi Levy quotes Rabbis Lance Sussman and Robert Seltzer as severely criticizing the 1999 Principles, by saying "the priority of ethics is disastrously weakened." And I see that the article by Sussman and Seltzer is part of a Winter 2000 edition of the CCAR Journal commenting, evidently some quite critically, on the "Principles." Thus I think it fair to say that the issue of the status of 'mitzvot' in Reform is far from arriving at any consensus view that either Reform clergy or laity are happy with. Indeed, that is shown in the title of Sussman and Seltzer's article: "Pittsburgh II and the Crisis of Confidence in the Reform Rabbinate."

My inquiry so far into the state of Reform Judaism--and I have yet to get hold of the key issue of the CCAR Journal--leads me to this conclusion: the key issue facing Reform now is, "By what standards are we to judge ethical and ritual mitzvot?" From the answer to this will flow whether and when to adhere to traditional mitzvot, or to modify them and even introduce new ones. That topic I will take up in my next post.

L'Shana Tovah

2008-10-06T05:56:05Z

By David Singer
Yes, a good year and a happy year. But to whom? To my family everywhere and to my friends also, and to colleagues, clients, and those I will meet this year. It goes without saying; I want all to have a good year with health and peace for them. And for myself, don't forget myself, who needs good health, who seeks peace for his daughter and wife and clients. But for whom else is L'Shana Tovah said?

It depends where you listen. If you were to visit a synagogue today, would you hear L'Shana Tovah said in honor of families who lost loved ones at wars fought today? Indeed, you would hear thoughts for those Americans fighting in Iraq. But would you hear thoughts of health and peace for Iraqi citizens in their country? Perhaps you would hear words for them, perhaps not. Some Iraqis are part of the war there; most are not and simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Do you hear L'Shana Tovah for them? Not much, I say.

What about Arab people in the Middle East?

Of course, in America, supporting Israel is the prevailing thought. But what about civilians who have died because of the Israel government's military actions in the recent past? Actions in the occupied areas and actions in Lebanon. A war criminal is a war criminal, no matter what flag is being flown. A country or nation-state or entity that attacks civilians is guilty, Palestinians, Lebanon, Israel, and yes, the United States are all eligible for that moniker - war criminal.

Will you hear L'Shana Tovah said for the governments who take the lives of innocent civilians? Which side is the righteous one? Israel, the attacker who has had enough of incursions into her territory and sends a violent message of war to stop the violence. Or innocent Lebanese who are in the wrong place at the wrong time, at home. Or innocent Palestinians who are quarantined by the Israeli government in the West Bank.

Surely, there can be accountability for war crimes. When we attend synagogue today in America, who speaks for the innocent who die needlessly in the world? Who is outraged that Israel is supported or assumed to be within its right to reply violently and indiscriminately? Reverend Martin Luther King said it best, "An eye for an eye makes us both blind."

If American Jews are outraged, they are essentially silent. Yes, there may be a few isolated peaceniks who speak out. But try and find such organized voices and the results are sparse, almost hidden. The Internet yields a frustrating lack of results, especially in a presidential election year. Speak to your Jewish friends, but choose carefully because most will not want to talk about this sensitive subject.

So, as a Jew for peace, what can you do? Speak out, but to whom? Go with the flow, and just say L'Shana Tovah automatically and be done with it? Wait for your rabbi to intone some words at services? A Jew for peace in America can be in a lonely place today. There is no easy answer for this person, and hopefully they are not alone in their beliefs.

David Singer, Temple Emanuel, Lowell, MA
Rosh Hashana 2008, 1st of Tishrei, 5769

This Week Is Like a Box of Chocolates

2008-09-28T20:23:39Z

By Barbara Weinstein
Legislative Director of the Religious Action Center
I'm an I Love Lucy aficionado. I have seen every episode, can recite by heart the Vitametavegamin routine that ends with Lucy sloshed on the alcohol-laced health tonic, and know that the longest laugh the show recorded came when Lucy did the tango with a shirt stuffed full of raw eggs. But for my money, the funniest episode is called "Job Switching," where Lucy and Ethel get jobs in a candy factory. Watching Lucy-as-candy-wrapper try and keep up with the ever-faster conveyor belt of chocolates is watching a master comedian at her best.

Sometimes, I feel a bit like Lucy at Kramer's Kandy Kitchen. That's particularly true this week as Congress tries to work through myriad bills that have languished for months, while also dealing with the economic challenges on Wall Street, and trying to leave town to campaign before Election Day. The legislative team at the RAC has been busily strategizing, posting action alerts, firing off letters to members of Congress, issuing press releases, and trying to make sure that social justice values are reflected in our laws.

There's still much more to be done, but already we've seen some significant victories in the last four days. After years of failed attempts, the House and Senate have both passed identical mental health parity bills. Pressure needs to be put on Congress to make sure the bill gets to the President, but all signs look promising. And speaking of bills signed by the President, after 18 years of misguided court rulings limiting the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA), today saw enactment of the ADA Amendments Act. Under the guidance of Rabbi Lynne Landsberg, the RAC has helped lead the Jewish community's advocacy on this bill, which will provide greater protection for those who face discrimination because of a disability. Today's victory, just before Rosh Hashanah, seemed sweeter than honey.

We're also happy about something that's NOT happening: namely, a Senate vote on a bill that would repeal a host of gun control laws in Washington DC. Our advocacy against the bill wasn't enough to stop its House passage last week, but working with a strong group of Senators, it looks as though a Senate vote isn't in the cards. We coordinated a joint effort of groups in the faith and civil rights communities to demonstrate the broad opposition to this bill, and it is gratifying to see positive results.

But above all, we were heartened by the decision this week of the U.S. Supreme Court to stay the execution of

Georgia

death row inmate Troy Davis. Mr. Davis was convicted of killing a police officer over 15 years ago. Yet there was no physical evidence linking him to the crime, and the prosecution's case was based entirely on the testimony of witnesses who have since recanted their statements. Many witnesses say their statements were, in fact, coerced by the police. For the past two years, we have weighed in with the Georgia State Parole Board to encourage them to review Mr. Davis's case, though Mr. Davis was again scheduled to be executed this past Tuesday. With two hours to go, the U.S. Supreme Court issued a last-minute stay, and this coming Monday will decide whether to hear his appeal. There are no second chances when it comes to the death penalty, and the Supreme Court's decision gives us hope that justice will truly be served.

This blog is already longer than Lucy's nose when she disguised herself to meet movie star William Holden, but I hope it gives you a taste of just a few days at the RAC this week. The victories have indeed been sweeter than any chocolate Lucy wrapped could be.

Philanthropy as a Rite of Passage

2008-09-22T19:54:23Z

By Gardening Grandma
Every synagogue I know has some sort of "mitzvah" requirement built into the bar/bat mitzvah program. Often the mitzvah is so small--"I spent an afternoon reading to children in an after-school program!" or "I gave my old children's books to the hospital!" -- that the chance that the 13-year-old learned a lifelong lesson is pretty slim.

But today I read about Jared and Colby Kash on Jewlicious. I've no doubt that these two brothers are on their way to a lifelong habit.

What's happening in your family?

Strengthening Reform: 14. The Idol of Autonomy

2008-09-21T01:39:20Z

By William Berkson
What should Reform congregations do by way of studies for children, for adults? What personal ethics should they espouse? What social reforms should they advocate? What rituals, celebrations, and memorials should they practice? What should the content of the prayer book? What home rituals should they encourage?

And who should make these decisions? The rabbis in each congregation? The Union for Reform Judaism? The Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion? The congregation members? A mixture? In what way?

I recently heard that several older Reform rabbis feel that the new Mishkan T''filah lacks a viewpoint and coherent vision of what Reform should be. I think the new Siddur is an improvement on Gates of Prayer in a number of ways, but I have to agree. Instead of a vision, we have a cafeteria of choices, with little guidance. I think that the founding of the Society for Classical Reform Judaism, which Rabbi Berman has written about here is one sign of that lack of direction, and lack of a compelling vision.

My feeling is that to strengthen Reform we need to evolve a stronger vision, instead of just pushing 'inclusiveness' of all viewpoints. "Inclusiveness" is not a vision that can inspire. There is an obstacle to developing a stronger vision, and that is the devotion to personal 'autonomy' as a supreme value for Reform. Reform has been so devoted to personal autonomy as an ideal that has been unable to develop clear and strong group ideals. But the ideal of personal autonomy is bogus ideal, a false idol; for human beings are not, in fact, autonomous.

Let me explain. This is going to have to go into philosophy, so fasten your seat belts.

The one who made personal autonomy a fundamental value in the West was Immanuel Kant. Kant said that each individual has a faculty of Reason and can judge right and wrong without depending on the views of anyone else. In fact, if you don't decide completely on your own, autonomously, you are being morally irresponsible. Autonomy means being a law unto yourself, or being ruled only by yourself, and Kant believed in an absolute "moral autonomy of the will."

Kant's ethics, in spite of having a lot of interesting insight, never worked practically. And that is because human beings don't have a faculty of "Reason" with a capital "R" that will tell us the right thing to do. That's what Classical Rationalists believed in the Age of Reason, but it doesn't exist. What we do have is a more humble kind of reason: the ability to weigh the pros and cons of different options. But when it comes to a decision, we take the pros and cons into account, our experience, what those we respect have said, and then make a judgment.

That this humble kind of rationality doesn't make an idol of personal autonomy possible we can see from the example of informed consent in medical ethics. There they talk about 'patient autonomy', and what is meant that the patient has full information, so they are not just dependent on one doctor's opinion. They thus gain some independence from any particular doctor's opinion. But they are still dependent on the state of medical ethics--not autonomous of the state of scientific knowledge, or of the ideas of our times.

The same is true in ethics and religion. An example is the changing view of women's status. Traditionally, what a woman earns belongs to her husband, to be controlled by him. This is now viewed as intolerably unjust, but it was once accepted as normal and proper--including in the Talmud. That just shows how much we are dependent on our times and the opinions of others.

Now we can change views of ethics and religion by critical discussion, over time. And that is what we should be doing: rationally weighing the arguments pro and con different ideas for our movement, informed by study of Torah and Talmud, and the ideas of our own time. Then we will make decisions not dictated by the discussion, or the fictitious "Reason," but informed by that rational dialogue.

Instead of engaging in this movement-wide dialogue, what recently we have had is the Romantic individualism I mentioned earlier. Each individual in communing with God will decide what Mitzvot to follow.

In a strong essay of Rabbi Herbert Bronstein, 'Mitzvah and Autonomy', in Duties of the Soul (1999) rightly criticizes autonomy as an "idol", meaning the particularly kind of self-centered, irresponsible view common in the popular media. But when it comes to looking for an alternative, he looks to the 'hermeneutic' tradition going back to Hegel, and including 'post modern' thinkers. Rabbi Borowitz, in wrestling with 'autonomy' also looks to these for ideas.

But the problem is that Hegel and his followers abandoned the critical tradition. So Reform Jewish thinkers turning to Western philosophy for guidance are faced on one hand with a naïve dogmatic rationalism--which Classical Reform followed--and on the other anti-rationalists who do not provide a philosophy that encourages the kind of classic Jewish dialogue in the Talmud, a dialogue that led to Judaism's greatest strength.

There is a Western philosopher who provided a better alternative, a more humble view of reason as guide, and that was my late teacher Karl Popper. Prof. Menachem Fisch has argued in his book Rational Rabbis that the Talmudic debate and decision actually follows Popper's model of critical discussion as a guide.

When I labeled autonomy an "idol" in the title I meant a false ideal--and a confused one. Nobody is contemplating a Reform religious police who will go around and report those who don't--or do--separate milk and meat. The idea that 'autonomy' is such a sacred ideal that we have to have a cafeteria-style Judaism is bogus. Humans are not autonomous, and we can recommend ideals and practices without coercing people to do anything. Furthermore, this is currently being done in Reform Responsa, which don't seem to be encumbered with illusions of autonomy in the same way as some other current Reform literature.

The product of the false ideal of 'autonomy', and where it really hits our current practice in Reform, is what I call "The Great Mitzvah Muddle," which will be my next topic.

Is Your Food Just?

2008-09-16T07:51:19Z

By Emily Grotta
I don't keep kosher, but I have been appalled at the news about the Agriprocessors plant in Postville, IA and the company's treatment of its workers. It's the kind of news story that gives all Jews a bad name.

That's why I applaud the news today that the movement to develop a "ethical standard" for food today received yet another stamp of approval from the Reform Movement, as the Union for Reform Judaism joined the Central Conference of American Rabbis in endorsing the Conservative Movement's Heksher Tsedek Commission.

The Union's resolution quotes the CCAR's:

"Those who produce kosher meat are engaged in sacred work and therefore are expected to adhere to the highest standards and values of Jewish tradition. Those who keep kosher, including the growing number of Reform Jews who are embracing the observance of kashrut, should not be forced to choose between their ritual observance and their ethical values."

So now, in addition to worrying about whether I am adding to global warming because the food I eat traveled thousands of miles to reach me, I have another worry--how the workers who raised and processed the food were treated. And that, of course, is the point of the new kosher: taking time to think about the food we put into our bodies, and all that implies.

Straight or Gay, Marriage is Sacred

2008-09-10T21:18:47Z

By JanetheWriter
Three years ago last week, the California Assembly voted to legalize same-sex marriage in the Golden State. Earlier this week, the JTA reported that on September 4, perhaps to mark this anniversary, Orthodox Jewish and Catholic leaders signed a statement that affirms that affording same-sex unions the status of marriage "dilute[s] the special standing of marriage between a man and a woman."

The signatories "hope that even those outside of our common religious traditions will recognize that we speak from the truth of human nature itself which is consistent with both reason and the moral life." Although one of the statement's signatories, Rabbi Fabian Schonfeld, chairman of the OU/RCA Joint Committee on Interreligious Affairs, and I share a religious tradition, I don't believe that he speaks from the truth of human nature and I certainly don't believe that that truth is consistent with either reason or with the moral life.

My truth tells me that the sanctity of my parents' 50+-plus-year union is on a par with the much more recent one of Josh Wayser and Richard Schulte, who together are raising five (yes, five) kids in a loving, stable home.

My truth tells me that the marriage between Laura Moskowitz and Robin Shore equals in holiness the one my grandparents had. My truth tells me, too, that their daughter Mariah, with two loving parents devoted to each other and to building a Jewish home together, is one lucky kid.

My truth tells me that, as Philip Smith wrote in a recent post on Jewcy, "...God might not care... whether you love men or women, as long as you love. Instead,...I would assume that God would be more concerned with how you move through the world, how you express love, and how you contribute to others."

And thus, my truth tells me that because of the ways in which Rabbi Victor Appell and his partner Colin move through the world, express love and contribute to others, their union, although not sanctioned by the State of New Jersey, is, nonetheless, holy. Like Josh and Richard, Laura and Robin, these two loving adults have devoted themselves to each other and to raising two Jewish children.

And lastly this: My truth tells me that, as with politics, all definitions are local. If the Orthodox community wishes to define "sacred" -- for the Orthodox community -- that's fine. If the Catholic community wishes to define "sacred" -- for the Catholic community -- that's fine, too. However, truths are not laws, and none of us--least of all Josh and Richard, Laura and Robin, Victor and Colin, or the thousands of other loving individuals building sacred, holy unions as same-sex couples--need be restrained in any way by someone else's truth.

Hechsher tzedek

2008-09-10T20:11:04Z

By Larry Kaufman
Well, our Reform rabbinate has endorsed the Conservative "hechsher tzedek" stating whether or not the meat is kosher isn't just a factor of how the animal was slaughtered, but of how the workers were treated.

Back in the days when we were boycotting California grapes, we probably talked about social justice and prophetic values - but the Reform movement wasn't at the point where it could have talked about kosher and treyf.

As it happened, our speaker at Shabbat services on Labor Day weekend talked about his participation in the recent protest march at the Agriprocessors plant in Postville. (For those arriving in the middle of the movie, that's the large kosher meat company that's been the subject of a Forward investigation and of a raid and roundup of undocumented workers by the Feds.) I told our guest that I don't keep kosher, but I consider the Postville meat treyf.

The story has been told* about the sick child who was ordered by his doctor to eat bacon. The parents consulted the rabbi, who cited pikuach nefesh, the saving of life, as the operative Jewish value - and said the parents should comply with the doctor's orders, but that they should make sure the hog was properly slaughtered. Lo and behold, the hog was found to have some kind of blemish, which was taken to the rabbi for a ruling - was it permissible to eat the meat from this animal? The rabbi inspected the blemish, and said, If this were a lamb, or a calf, I would say the blemish is immaterial. But how can I pronounce a pig kosher!

The recent resolution about the hechsher tzedek seems to provide a similar anomaly. Although the third draft of what became the CCAR Pittsburgh Principles of 1999 allowed for the possibility of kashrut, by the final draft, dietary laws had been consigned to the commentary. That commentary did presage the recent action on hechsher tzedek:

An example of this might be extending dietary restrictions to animals raised under conditions violating tzar baaley chayim (inflicting pain on living creatures), or refraining from foods which demonstrate the oshek, oppression, of those who work the fields to harvest our foods.

Had I been one of the rabbis that wanted something like the above excerpt from the commentary to be in the body of the document, I think I might be feeling a little aggrieved right now about having been beaten to the punch by the Conservatives. But I would console myself by appreciating how far we've come in these nine years towards reclaiming and re-forming formerly rejected practices - and even more by remembering that the best way to accomplish something is not to worry about who's going to get the credit.

*I think the source for this tale in Let Laughter Ring, a collection of Jewish jokes compiled some 65 years ago by the late Rabbi S. Felix Mendelsohn of Temple Beth Israel in Chicago.

A Newer, Slower Kosher

2008-08-01T21:08:49Z

By dcc
Recently I have been reading Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma, which while partly polemical in its approach to local food consumption as opposed to what Pollan calls "the industrialized food chain," did a lot to reinforce my love of good, tasty, carefully created food.

But it seems that I am not alone in this re-discovery. In the last week or so my local paper has dedicated significant front page real estate and bandwidth (complete with a new "Times Topic Page") to local and natural food movements. Many people are concerned by the number of pesticides, hormones and antibiotics fed to what becomes our food. We are beginning to ask why everything has the same five ingredients and most of the time we can't pronounce them. The inherent ignorance necessary to continue Pollan's industrialized food chain is coming to an end; people have decided they want to know what they are eating.

For most of history, societies have created food rituals to say thank you and pause to recognize what is on the dinner plate. Most Hindus don't eat beef, Muslims follows halal, Roman Catholics popularized the "Friday fish fry" during Lent and the list goes on. But perhaps the most intricate food rituals belong to our people. Kosher laws--outdated and burdensome as they are--force us to take a look at what it is we put into our bodies.

This is where Mr. Pollan's quiet diatribe, the kosher-nostra and Reform Jewish consumption of technically kosher food comes together. In the past few months a huge kosher meat producer has come under national scrutiny. Agriprocessors, the nation's largest kosher meat plant, was raided by the Immigration and Naturalization Services for employing illegal immigrants and treating them like trash, bringing much unwanted attention to the disgusting underbelly of the kosher food industry.

This was after months of Jewish bloggers busting Agriprocessors' chops (sorry couldn't resist) regarding the company's working conditions, treatment of its meat prior to the slaughter and overall poor business practices. JTA's Telegraph blog has been covering these events , FailedMessiah has been all over this for years, and the other usual suspects continue to chime in from time to time.

While this food is technically kosher, its production violates a thousand other Jewish values, and, in my opinion, far more important values than how we salt our meat. One can trick himself to believe that the business of kosher food production is ethical, however if he takes a look at the track record, he will find that many of the major producers of kosher meat stuffs are not following the rules - rules from on High and from a more local source.

It is one's own choice to keep kosher according to Reform traditions. But there are some strong voices within my community pushing for blind adherence to halachic kashrut and consumption of kosher only meat. I have had conversations with Reform clergy and lay leaders who fight for animal rights, immigration reform and unionization all while buying kosher meat from major distributors that get much of their product from Agriprocessors.

These folks enjoy eating this food and feel connected to tradition when they make these choices, they say. I feel as if they are supporting a corrupt monopoly that hides behind faux-piety. How does one enjoy kosher meat and stay true to her liberal Jewish values?

One eats locally.

It might not always be possible to create a complete meal from your own backyard, especially if you, like me, live in an apartment. But there are local farmers markets, co-ops and other choices you can make to decrease your dependence on food producers like Agriprocessors. Granted if you believe that glatt kosher meat is a must this won't work and you may have to trade your values for your brisket. We have the right and obligation to know what is in our food and how it is made so if you are willing to put the extra work into creating a meaningful, holy meal, eating locally is the way to go.

Additionally there are others out there working on changing the kosher food industry for the better. Heksher Tzedek movement (a major achievement of the Conservative Movement that should be applauded by the entire justice-seeking community, especially with this week's announcement of guidelines) is working to improve the conditions of the kosher slaughter houses, for both the livestock and the workers, so to infuse Jewish values in Jewish ritual. Rabbi Morris Allen, a leader of this movement said, "We need to be in a world where we can say that keeping kosher is the way in which I demonstrate not only a concern for my relationship to God and Torah but the Jewish concern for our relationship to the world in which we live."

We have the ability to make the change. Reform Judaism is at its core, a Movement of reasoned change - we stand up for justice and holiness in the face of once hallowed traditions. We protect the environment by turning off the lights even if it is Shabbat; we march for civil rights arm-in-arm with friends from other faith based communities; we stand up to anti-Semitism and anti-Israel sentiment from outside and within our community; so why shouldn't we fight for the purity of something we put into our bodies?

This is both a physical and spiritual fight that people of conscience cannot avoid anymore. Isn't that the point of keeping Kosher?

From Black and White to Shades of Gray

2008-07-29T02:24:44Z

By JanetheWriter
Recently, someone I know told me he is a gun owner. When I heard this, I was dumbfounded and I was speechless.

In my head, guns and associated imagery, most of it violent, churned--a visual stream of consciousness. His handgun, a compact, weighty black rock nestled among dark socks in a nightstand drawer...the McDonald's in San Ysidro, CA, where 21 people were killed and 19 injured, all by gunfire...the aerial view of Columbine High School, a single line of students streaming from its doors... DayGlo orange-vested hunters traipsing into the woods, just yards from my office on a cool fall morning in rural New England...a photo of Rabbi Eric Yoffie speaking at the Million Mom March, the only religious leader to do so.

Complementing the images churning in my head were my up-until-now personal notions of guns: Guns are dangerous, guns kill and, as Rabbi Yoffie has stated on numerous occasions, "The indiscriminate distribution of guns is an offense against God and humanity," and the need for sensible gun control is a religious and moral imperative. Indeed, it's hard to argue with such powerful eloquence, particularly when it's so deeply rooted in our Jewish tradition, which values the sanctity and preservation of human life above all else.

When I'd recovered enough to ask some questions, I learned that this particular gun owner doesn't hunt, but he does own both long guns and handguns that he uses for sport shooting. I subsequently learned that shooting is an Olympic sport requiring tremendous precision, skill and training. With a bit more help from Google, I also learned that Israelis Alexander Danilov and Guy Starek are both distinguished competitive marksman. The former, a pistol shooter, won the gold medal at the European Championships in Germany in 1999 and the latter, a free rifle competitor, placed 7th at the 1995 World Championships and 4th at the 1998 World Championships.

Even with this knowledge, I was extremely disconcerted, not so much because someone I know owns guns, but rather because I--so quickly and so wrongly--had jumped to the conclusion that the weapons are handguns and thus are "bad" in every way. I like to believe that I view the world through lenses that bring various shades of gray into focus, and I was distressed and disappointed in myself that, in this instance, I had seen it only in the starkest shades of black and white.

As the gun owner and I continued to grapple with the issue he'd raised and my reaction to it, I started to think about the topic in a different way--as a page of Talmud. As such, various legal texts, commentaries, opinions and the like from across the firearms spectrum would be laid out on a single page. Among its contents might be the Constitution's second amendment together with states' handgun, rifle, and shotgun laws and commentary. Annotations regarding permits, background checks, waiting periods, sport shooting and more would wrap around the sides of the page, offering both majority and minority opinions and views.

Here, on this and other pages of "Talmud," we could come together to delve into the issue, to share ideas, to argue, to hash out concerns, to distinguish among the many shades of gray inherent in such an emotionally, politically and personally charged "tractate." Indeed, no issue of any import is purely black or white, all or nothing. Rather, each is all about the distinct shades of gray that comprise it and our responsibility as individuals and as Reform Jews is to define these shades, to bring them into focus, to determine which ones best suit our needs and our consciences and, ultimately, as Larry Kaufman has suggested--as did the Shakers before him--to "find the place just right" for us.

The False Choice of Peace v. Justice

2008-07-23T06:46:13Z

By Jonah Perlin
(First posted on the RACBlog)

The last month has been an important one for international war crimes proceedings. Monday night the "most wanted man in Europe," a Serbian war criminal was captured. Even more remarkable, on July 11, just six days before the 10th anniversary of the ratification of the Rome Statute which established the International Criminal Court (ICC) -- a treaty which the U.S. and Israel have still yet to become a party to -- Luis Moreno-Ocampo, the maverick Chief Prosecutor of the ICC, announced that he was brining charges against President Omar al-Bashir of Sudan.

In indicting Bashir the ICC not only made a commitment to holding individuals responsible for the ongoing genocide in Darfur, it also sent a signal to all sitting world leaders that they would no longer have immunity from perpetrating unthinkable crimes simply because of their status as heads of state.

While the Union for Reform Judaism and many others came out in strong support of this decision to indict President Bashir, the first sitting leader to be charged, some in the succeeding weeks have offered the critique that in pursuing international "justice," the ICC and the UN Security Council have actually placed a significant road block toward the creation of a lasting peace.

In their view, efforts toward peace are inversely proportional to efforts of justice, because such charges simply strengthen the leaders resolve to stay in power and takes away the potential for a diplomatic end to the conflict. In academic literature this is known as the "peace v. justice" paradox.

However, as two powerful pieces written in the last two weeks point out this is simply a false choice. It is not peace v. justice, but rather justice as a part of peace. As the ENOUGH Project's excellent report on the subject explains "Holding people accountable for war crimes is not only the right thing to do from a moral perspective--it directly promotes peace and makes future such abuses less likely."

Additionally as renowned Sudan academic and activist Eric Reeves explained in the Guardian Newspaper, "With its relentless and principled pursuit of those responsible for atrocity crimes, the ICC has created opportunities for political pressure that offer the people of Darfur their best chance for improved humanitarian conditions, security and a glimmering hope of peace."

Ultimately, if the UN Security Council decides that this warrant would put more people at risk it will be able to put the trial on hold. However, they have not yet chosen to do that. So while only time will tell, it remains our movement's firm belief that international criminal prosecutions are in fact a part of peace not antithetical to it.

Dónde están las mujeres

2008-07-17T20:45:32Z

By dcc
This week the Saudi government sponsored an interfaith meeting in Madrid, Spain. Rabbi Scott Sperling, director of the Mid-Atlantic Council of the Union and representative of the Commission on Interreligious Affairs, is there for the Reform Movement. Ari Alexander, co-founder of Children of Abraham, is also attending. He is live blogging at Mixed Multitudes about the event. He was shocked to see so few female participants at the conference. In a week were where we read Parashat Pinchas, a seminal work of feminism in the Torah, his point resonates even louder for me.

It is all too easy for men to say nothing about the lack of women in a room, Alexander writes. As a young man working in a world with far more women than men, but where there are very few women in positions of power, not saying anything is not an option. We must say something when there is a clear issue of discrimination. It is also the responsibility of all involved--both those in the majority and those being discriminated against--to work against these trends.

Take a look at Alexander's post. It is worth the read.

Witness to History: Past, Present and Future

2008-07-01T17:49:52Z

By JanetheWriter
Today marks the first anniversary of my visit to Oświęcim, the Polish shetl town in which the Nazis built the Auschwitz concentration camp. Sometimes, still, when I close my eyes, I see the infamous "Arbeit Macht Frei" entry gate and the iconic low brick building that marks the entrance to Birkenau, the neighboring extermination camp. On that long, long day last year, I walked the railroad tracks, stood in the barracks and in the crematoria. I gazed into the glassy water of the pond whose dark depths still cradle the bones and ashes of those whose lives were snuffed out there. I saw their tallitot, their tefillin. I saw their shoes, their eyeglasses, their hair. I saw the canisters of Zyklon B used to kill them. Their names--known and unknown--are indelibly etched in my heart. I know these people. I am a witness to their history--to my history.

Fast forward from July 1, 2007 to March 19, 2008, the fifth anniversary of the United States' invasion of Iraq. Sadly, whether my eyes are open or closed, my mind's eye shows me nothing of this atrocity. I don't see the brave souls who are fighting there, nor those who anxiously await their return. I don't see the tanks or those hunkered down inside them. I don't see the guns or those who use them. I don't see the desert bivouacs or those who live in them. I don't see the maimed bodies or the tortured minds, nor hear their anguished cries at night. I don't see the roadside bombings or the faces of those they kill. I don't see the flag-draped coffins--more than 4100 to date--as they glide off the transport planes. I don't see the funerals. I don't hear the gloomy notes of Taps. I don't know these people. I don't know their names. I am not a witness to their history--to my history.

I want to see these people. I want to know them. I want to learn their names. I want to be a witness to their history--to my history. But more than that, I want them to come home. My mind steps back a generation--to a different time, a different place, a different war. When I close my eyes, I do see them. I see them alight from overflowing transport planes, grinning and waving. I see them descend the metal staircase to the cheering crowd nearby. I see them on the tarmac, entangled in yellow ribbons, confetti, balloons and, finally, awash in long-saved hugs and kisses, safe in the arms of those who love them the most. After that, I don't want to see them--or future generations of them--ever again.

It is up to us then, as our conscience dictates, to demonstrate, to letter write, to vote, speaking truth to power. It is up to us then, as our tradition demands, to beat our swords into plowshares and our spears into pruning hooks. It is up to us then, to work toward the prophetic ideal. Then and only then will our soldiers--and we--go forth in peace, knowing war no more.

ACH, Traditional Reading

2008-06-30T18:18:19Z

By William Berkson
Ok, folks. I'm peeved. I'm just curious if others are irritated by this kind of thing. Last week Dr. James Dobson said that Sen. Barack Obama was deliberately distorting "the traditional interpretation of the Bible" when he pointed out that the plain reading of Leviticus prohibits eating shellfish, and that the Defense Department would have a problem with Jesus' Sermon on the Mount. Sen. Obama's point was that political leaders would be wiser by not being sectarian in their arguments for public policy--which I thought was a pretty good point.

I actually have a lot of respect for Dr. Dobson, as he actually is devoted to helping families, and he doesn't trim his sails to the political winds.

But what kind of arrogance is that in saying "the traditional interpretation"? Surely he knows that Jews exist, and many still hold that eating shellfish is prohibited. And he knows that Quakers and Baptists don't agree on how literally the Sermon on the Mount should be taken.

Shouldn't someone be calling Dr. Dobson on this? He's entitled to his interpretation of scripture, both Hebrew and Christian Bibles. But he shouldn't be allowed to pretend that his is automatically the privileged, "traditional" interpretation, and that he is entitled to rap the knuckles of anyone who disagrees.

Kashrut cleaning products?

2008-06-20T05:51:18Z

By Bryan Freehling
I began observing kashrut not when I converted to Reform Judaism thirteen years ago, but when I became a vegetarian almost three years ago. Although I considered observing kashrut upon becoming a Jew, my life partner of fifteen years who had kept kosher until he was 21, was not too amiable to that notion. However, after the passing of our beloved canine companion, Bella, both of us chose to become vegetarian.

Our ethical and moral vegetarian odyssey has done much for our spiritual and physical well-being, and it has made us more compassionate Jews. Additionally, our vegetarian lifestyle, since one chooses what to eat, has also helped us become more informed consumers. The challenges and obstacles faced by individuals and families who maintain a kosher lifestyle are often not as discernible to the naked eye as one might think.

A month ago, I learned to my horror that most fabric softeners and dryer sheets contain animal fat, also known as tallow. Although I am not certain, I sincerely doubt that these animals have been slaughtered in a kosher manner. And even if these animals were slaughtered in a kosher manner, I question whether observant Jews are even aware of this disturbing fact. I wonder how many observant Jews have washed and dried milkh plates with dish towels laundered with such fabric softeners. Many ingredients found in detergents and softeners can remain indefinitely in fabrics and garments even after several washings.

Unfortunately, it has wrongly been incumbent upon consumers outside of the mainstream American society to investigate and police these matters. All consumers have the right to know all the ingredients of the products which they purchase. Failure to disclose this information on labels should result in stiff fines for the manufacturers, suppliers, and vendors.

Bryan Freehling is a member of Martha's Vineyard Hebrew Center.

Do I really belong?

2008-06-11T20:12:56Z

By Elise May
I received a phone call yesterday that really bothered me. It was from a local Jewish organization that my young son and I belong to. The person (let's call her Miss Smith) was calling to inform me that I was behind in my membership fees. I explained that I send in as much as I can each month when I receive a bill. I was absolutely appalled to be asked, "Is $20 and $30 a month the best you can do?" If that is the amount I am sending in, one might think that is all I can afford, right? The call ended by Miss Smith basically saying that if I do not get caught up with the fees, my son and I won't be able to continue our membership.

To their credit, this organization did offer us a lower fee than the standard membership fee, but it is still much more than I can pay. Thus, I have been sending the $20-$30 per month. After this recent conversation, I feel completely unwelcome and don't know if I want to continue my membership (even if I could somehow get caught up).

This same thing happened at the Jewish Community Center. I had to give up that membership because I could not afford the dues. The ironic thing was that I contacted the local YMCA and they were more than happy to welcome my son and me. They asked me to simply pay whatever I could afford each month. My son was able to play soccer and take swimming lessons while I was able to use the exercise facilities. Isn't it a bit ironic that we had to leave the JCC because I couldn't afford it, but the YMCA (a Christian-based organization) didn't care how much or how little I was able to pay?

We seem to be so worried about Jews straying from the religion, but we sometimes make it so difficult for people to have a sense of belonging in the Jewish community. I am both hurt and saddened at the thought of my son and I being turned away from yet another Jewish group because of my income. I am trying to raise a child strong in his Jewish identity, yet I find myself being disillusioned by the cost of being Jewish.

Why should how much money you make determine if you can be a member of the JCC, a certain synagogue, or any other Jewish group or organization? Shouldn't we be making it a point to allow anyone to be part of Jewish groups regardless of if they can pay the fees? As Jews, we need to take care of one another and not exclude people just because their bank account isn't as large as some. What will God care about more--how much money we made or how much time we spent doing mitzvah projects and helping others? I believe it is the later.

Does Public Lying Matter?

2008-06-03T21:55:59Z

By William Berkson
The Talmud says, "Sins repeated seem permitted." With recent events this keeps ringing in my ears. And news media seem tolerant of dishonesty, at least to the extent of not thinking it matters a great deal.

Something seems to be very wrong.

Let's start with the list of recent clear-cut examples of public dishonesty. President Clinton lied to a grand jury, and was impeached for it. Karl Rove lied about leaking damaging information to the press about Valerie Plame. President Bush promised to catch and punish leakers of national security information. But then he approved leaking more information to discredit Plame's husband, target of the original leak. And when Rove was exposed as a liar and leaker, President Bush did not fire him. Clearly, President Bush broke his word to the American people. Last week the spokesman lied to, and tasked with spreading Rove's lies, Scott McClellan, issued an angry book denouncing the way he was used. At the same time Rove was honored with space in the Wall Street Journal to give a long critique of Senator Obama's not being forthright enough in his political comments!

Does any of this matter? The Jewish Sages did recognize that there are occasions when frankness is not the best policy. "Never tell the naked truth in the presence of a lady," as Mark Twain put it humorously. But none of these recent examples can be construed as being in the category of either polite or necessary "white lies."

The Ten Commandments clearly forbids bearing false witness. The Talmud permits lying to a corrupt Roman tax collector who is trying to extort more than the legitimate taxes approved by the Roman government. But again clearly that kind of exception doesn't apply. The lies of Clinton and Rove were examples of false witness that are simply designed to help themselves, and to hurt other individuals. There are no honorable extenuating circumstances.

Similarly, Bush's breaking his word on chasing down and punishing leakers of national security information was purely self-serving. It is an example of that kind of promise-breaking that is 'hilluldibur,' profanation of one's word, and is prohibited in Numbers 30:3.
Ok, so the Torah and the Sages wouldn't approve. But is there really any social harm done?Yes, enormous harm. Here is what needs more public recognition, in my opinion, including by the news media.

We all know the specifics: the Clinton presidency was severely compromised in its effectiveness as it was preoccupied with extracting itself from the consequences of Clinton's grand jury lies. But equally or even more important is the tearing of the fabric of social trust.
The following fascinating experiment was done by a psychologist. He set a task for two sets of groups to complete. They were of equal ability, but in one set he sowed discord by planting suspicion of the motives of the other members. The suspicious groups functioned very poorly because they would not cooperate. Trust in fact is the key to cooperation, and cooperation the key to successful effort.

An interesting Jewish example of the importance of public trust is the returning of found objects, which is commanded in Deuteronomy 22:1. And as a result there was a 'lost and found' wall at the Second Temple. According to Rabbi Nachum Amsel, both the medieval ethical treatise "SeferHachinuch" and the commentator Abarbanel indicate that the reason this mitzvah is so important is that it helps promote social trust.

Since the Viet Nam war there has been a disastrous decline of public trust in the US. First we had false pretenses in the start of the Viet Nam war, then Watergate, then Iran-Contra, then the Clinton grand jury perjury, and now again misleading the public on the war, and lies about leaks. The lack of trust in government is documented. But what is not noted is how this has sown discord, so that people with different views can't cooperate in Congress.

The paralysis is widely noted, but not its connection to the lack of public integrity. When politicians set a better example, and the press is more upset about public lying, it will be a much better day for America and the world.

Where do we draw the Line?

2008-06-03T00:56:36Z

By Elise May
Imagine sitting in synagogue during Rosh Hashanah services, the choir is singing, the sun is setting and casting a beautiful glow on the stained-glass windows, and suddenly a deafening sound pierces the voices of the choir. Everyone looks around and the whispering begins, "A chair must have fallen over. A table might have tipped over. Perhaps there was a car accident right outside." Then, the unmistakable smell of gunpowder is noticed. All the while, the choir keeps singing much like the sailors on the Titanic.

Sounds like a dream, right? Well, this happened at my Temple last year. A member had brought his gun to services, and it fell when he stood for one of the prayers. Luckily, no one was seriously hurt, but the man's daughter was slightly injured.

Having received and even taught security training for many years, I was trained in how to recognize a threat and respond accordingly. My first thought was, "Are we under attack?" I wondered if there were other people with guns. I wanted to get my son out of the sanctuary, but there were so many people. The odd thing was, no one was moving. I think everyone was in shock. Our Rabbi, to his credit, did not miss a beat and kept right on with the service. They took the injured congregant quietly out of the sanctuary to an awaiting ambulance.

I don't remember the rest of the service. But, I do remember feeling very venerable. If a gun can go off during High Holy Day services, anything can happen. How did someone even get into our Temple with a firearm? Was that allowed?

It seems the gentleman had a permit for the gun and always carried it for protection. But, if you can't feel safe in your own house of worship, where can you feel safe? Why do you need a gun at Temple?

What about the Commandment that states, "You shall not murder?" Does that also apply to protection? Our society is accepting of people who carry guns, and there are probably more of our friends and neighbors doing so than we know.

This situation made me realize how easy it would be for someone to enter our Temple and do harm to many innocent people. Things like this happen all the time in other places and to other people, but not to me and the people I love, right?

Luckily, this was not a terrorist activity or a display of anti-Semitism. However, I think it made everyone realize how venerable we are as a society. What do we have to do to make our world safe for the next generation?

Cracking the Stained Glass Ceiling

2008-05-30T23:11:30Z

By dcc
With all the talk about disappearing men from Jewish life, it would seem as if all the Reform Jewish institutions were run by woman...not so much. However there have been significant improvements in the sharing of power. Kudos to HUC-JIR, which is significantly increasing the voice and presence of women in its leadership. The Jewish Week reports:

[Shifra] Bronznick's strategies have already begun to change the culture of certain Jewish organizations. As a consultant for Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion, she helped integrate women into the seminary's administration. Female board members soon jumped from seven out of 55 in 2001 to 21 out of 55 in 2005, and a woman -- Barbara Friedman -- currently serves as chair.

"Shifra's insights about the ways in which women could enrich our organization through their leadership is something to which I gave great credence." said Rabbi David Ellenson, president of HUC. It is a step in the right direction.

The Anger Factor

2008-05-28T02:26:03Z

By William Berkson
Our society is now filled with anger, and with angry people who see their expressions of anger as positive, even courageous.

The most dramatic example has been the harsh anger of Reverend Wright, particularly at the National Press Club. But we also have the daily rage of some radio and television talk shows, where it is practically a communal ritual. Viewers join in an orgy of rage against those they view as misguided or wicked, adding daily to the list of grievances, of reasons to be angry.

The point of the comedy film Anger Management (2003) was to ridicule the notion of anger management. The problem of the lead character, Adam Sandler, is that he can't get angry and is too meek. 'Doctor' Jack Nicholson 'cures' him by provoking him mercilessly throughout the film until he loses his temper, gets enraged and stands up for himself. Again, rage is seen as a healthy step to courage and proper self-assertion. This 'pneumatic' theory of anger seems to have originated with Freud: repress anger and it will pop up another way and harm you; "get it out" and you will become healthier of mind.

Wisdom books of the Bible and the Sages have quite a different view, seeing anger as dangerous and foolish.

Ecclesiastes is blunt: "Anger rests in the bosom of fools." (7:9). And Proverbs does advocate suppressing anger: "A fool vents all his anger, but a wise man, holding back, calms it." (Proverbs 29:11) In fact controlling anger is seen as a heroic virtue: "He who is slow to anger is greater than the mighty, and he who rules over his spirit than he who conquers a city. "(Proverbs 16:32) Using this last passage as a proof text, the sage Ben Zomasays "Who is mighty? He who can conquer his impulses." (Avot 4:1) And Rabbi Eliezerechoes, "Do not be easy to anger." (Avot 2:15)

The irony is that current research in psychology tends to support the Bible and the sages. Venting anger seems to increase it, rather than getting rid of it. And angry attacks stir up strife, creating a vicious cycle of more reasons for anger on all sides.

My own view is that anger is best seen as a warning signal, a sign that we may be under threat. The question is how best to respond. Sometimes the best response is to attack or flee, but in normal civil life there are usually much better options. Sometimes, the smart thing is to gain allies against a real threat. Sometimes, it is best to just to "let it go" as the Buddhists say, and be calmed.

Discovering what is best in a particular situation requires reflection, and as cognitive psychologists have documented, the problem is that anger tends to block reflection. With powerful negative emotions we tend to go into a 'fight or flight' mode, and not think about goals, obstacles, and plans.

The remarkable thing about the Reverend Wright episode is first, it was unusually obvious in Wright's case that anger led to self destructive actions, actions that damaged his own reputation. Second was Sen. Obama's unusually wise observations in his Philadelphia speech on race. Yes, people both black and white have reasons to be angry, he said. But that anger is not wise. To improve the situation we have to find solutions, courses of action that we can unite on to cooperate and help all of us together. As David Gergen remarked, this speech was unusual in that Sen. Obama was talking to the electorate as if we were adults.

As Ecclesiastes wrote, "The words of the wise are like goads." (12:11). In fact because our tendency is to fall into primitive, self-destructive thinking we need constant reminder that there is a better way.

Here the news media have an important role and responsibility. They can cater to the worst in us by focusing on and magnifying any potential cause of anger. Or they can remind us to be clear sighted, not swayed by appeals to fear and anger, and instead focus on the real issues and characters of the candidates. I wish I could be more hopeful that the news media will play a constructive role in calming irrational anger and keeping us focused on what is important. To their credit they have played down the most egregious racist and sexist remarks. But unfortunately, many in broadcast journalism particularly, otherwise seem to seek out , magnify and constantly repeat any potential incitement to anger.

Israel: Land of Book Burning?

2008-05-23T02:46:00Z

By dcc

I missed the story about Israelis buring copies of the New Testament this week in the town of Ohr Yehuda. When I read this story, it made my stomach turn. What a horrible message to send to Christian neighbors in Israel and here at home.

Rabbis Eric Yoffie, Peter Knobel and David Saperstein issued a joint statement about this event. It is summed up in this one sentence:

We are appalled that Jews would engage in the burning of books that are held sacred by Christians around the world.

I join our rabbis in their disgust of the actions of these few radicals.

As Jews, we know better they explain:

We Jews remember the burning by Christians of the Talmud in 13th-century Paris and 16th-century Italy. We remember as well the book burnings in Nazi Germany. It staggers the imagination that in the year 2008, Jews would engage in actions of this type.

It is a shame. We are better than this.

Inextricably Bound

2008-05-20T23:18:21Z

By Mike Sims

Living an ethical life and Reform Judaism’s imperative to engage in acts of tikkun olam are inextricably bound. How can you say that you are committed to repairing the world if you destroy the lives of others through deceit? The first step toward making the world a better place is to make your own life, your part of the world, an ethical place.

If I were to write my children an ethical will, the first thing I would tell them is that very often big crimes start out as small misdeeds. I don’t believe the folks at Enron woke up one day and said, “Let’s commit massive fraud.” Rather, I suspect it started with a few small deals that may or may not have been “technically” legal and snowballed into a mess that bankrupted a company and ruined the lives of thousands of employees and investors.

I recall the impassioned argument I once had with a friend about whether it was right to pay for one movie at the multiplex and then stay for two or even three movies. My friend argued that once you paid to get in you should be able to stay in. Plus, she said, “they expect us to do it, and they charge too much for popcorn and soda anyway.” Remember, I told her, “we paid for one movie and got what we paid for, even if it cost too much.”

Small ethical acts can make a big difference—for the good or the bad. I choose to make them for the good.